"Life isn't worth living until you have found something worth dying for."
~ Martin Luther King Jr.
Chapter 72 ~ You Call This a Bonding Activity?
ECOTS
January 2nd, 1997 ~ 8:05 p.m.
"You mean to tell me that you've lost two of my students?"
Minerva's voice had grown quite shrill, the woman's insufferably dark eyes staring him down as if he were one of her students who would cower.
"Au contraire, vieille femme, those insufferable excuses of genetic lineages that refuse to go the way of natural selection got themselves, as you would so eloquently put it, 'lost.'" At this Regulus Black found himself partaking in something he never thought he'd do – air quotes.
The sarcastic edge he found oddly pleasing.
The tight bunned witch stared at him, mouthing the words back to herself. "Got themselves…lost." She seemed to shake herself. "Pray tell, Regulus, how exactly do you lose a human being?"
"When that human being is Potter," he said without concern, "it is surprisingly easy."
Minerva made an angry sound, Dumbledore – who had thus far remained silent – reclining back in one of McGonagall's office chaises and steepling his hands. "Highgate Cemetery...how very interesting."
Regulus let out a long suffering sigh at the old man and woman he was forced to deal with. It was like the former was no longer tracking the conversation and the other was fixated on her fantasies of transfiguring him into a small toad. A pity, that before he could open his mouth to inject some snide levity in the Order leader's direction that Minerva beat him to it.
"Albus if you have something to say about where my students are please spit it out! I do not have time for deciphering your usual enigmas!" As she spoke she had snatched up her cloak, quickly pulling it on.
Black did have to give the old timers this – they had taken to his whole explanation about being a time traveling version of himself quite quickly. Apparently Dumbledore had been expecting this, as he'd harbored plans to grace Potter with access to a timeturner for quite some time, and he'd apparently alerted McGonagall as well.
Perhaps he ought to check the old man's brain for early signs of senility. Surely Alzheimers was the only explanation as to why anyone would think giving Potter a timeturner was a good idea.
"I was just thinking Minerva that given Tom's penchants for symbolism-"
"I hardly care about his proclivities, Albus! I care about my two missing Gryffindors and the fact that one of them just so happens to be our star Seeker!"
Black inclined a mildly amused eyebrow. "Quidditch…well at least your heart is in the right place."
A deadly look was levelled in his direction. "My concern is and always has been for the safety of my House and all of Hogwarts' students, however taxing they might be." She shot him a look that made it crystal clear of who she referred to.
Regulus sent her a tight-lipped, pureblood smile. "Ah yes, missing me in your classes, Minerva?"
"I miss the opportunity to transfigure you into a newt whenever the mood strikes me and passing it off as a class exercise."
Regulus merely sighed. "We have two versions of Potter and Kalliandra running around," he drawled. "Perhaps we should further discuss your abuse of Professorly privileges once they've been found? Given the fact that these two are from the future it might make their continued existence a bit problematic if we do not locate them."
McGonagall scowled, then snapped her wand at some of her office cupboards, the doors flying open. Several vials promptly flew out, disappearing into her cloak's multitude of pockets before he could read the labels.
The afternoon had gone South somewhat quickly. The cemetery's official visiting hours had neared closing and neither Potter nor Kalliandra had shown up at the pre-arranged meeting spot. As such, he had disillusioned himself and swiftly moved about the cemetery in a swift effort to find the two wayward teenagers, having little luck.
And as soon as it had formerly closed he had ensured he had been outside of its gates; he was, after all, a Slytherin. He knew what patrolled this cemetery at closing, and no one had ever accused a gargoyle of harboring mercy, let alone a sense of humor. He doubted they'd find Potter's lack of a sense of time or direction amusing.
As such he'd gone to Hogwarts with the singular goal of stealing one Miss Hermione Granger. She'd helped Potter create that pathetically sappy Christmas gift for the girl, and on the actual day he could not help but overhear the sentimental fool commenting on the locator charms that he'd placed upon it so he could 'find Kalliandra wherever she may be.'
Despite that Regulus had been unable to locate Kalliandra. It seemed that whatever locator spell had been woven into the girl's bracelet, that it was clearly only accessible by a very specific charm, and Hermione Granger would surely know the bleeding incantation.
Unfortunately he had been intercepted by the Head of Gryffindor House whilst trying to break in through that plump portrait, snarling that she was nothing more than a tribute to type two diabetes.
It'd hardly endeared the Fat Lady to him.
Dumbledore still appeared to be deep in thought, Regulus scowling and turning his attention back to McGonagall. "Vieille femme," he demanded, "shocking as you may find it, I need access to Miss Granger. Locating them will be somewhat straightforward once we have that girl's assistan-"
"Regulus Black," Minerva clipped dangerously, "where do you think I am headed?" She paused. "And by our standards I am hardly old."
"Of course, I stand corrected. Old would have been 20 years hence. Now we would classify you as downright decrepit, you-"
"Regulus," Dumbledore interrupted, "it is hardly in good taste to insult a lady." Minerva looked ready to transfigure him into a squirrel, Dumbledore far more calm and holding up a staying hand. "Though perhaps an apology can wait until after we had found our lost flock? I imagine the process of siphoning such contrition out of you will be quite tasking and there appears to be somewhat of a time issue."
With that the old man stood, a calm sort of power suddenly radiating as he met Minerva McGonagall's eyes. "Go retrieve Miss Granger and perhaps Nymphadora, if she is readily available, Minerva, and meet us within the entrance hall. Given the location of tonight's endeavor I do believe some additional help may be in order." Blue eyes snapped to his behind half-moon spectacles. "Regulus, I do believe it is time you met Goliath..."
Receiving one last venomous look from McGonagall Black followed, scowling. Sending Potter onto the same side of the cemetery as that little girlfriend of his had clearly been a tactical error. "I swear if we find the two of them holed up in some corner doing teenage things…"
"Given the nature of the horcrux in question," Dumbledore said with a hint of a smile, "I suspect that is exactly where we will find them."
Regulus Black found himself suddenly repressing the urge to vomit.
ECOTS
January 2nd, 1997 ~ 10:35 p.m.
Kally sat on the floor, relegated to a corner of the crypt that was as far away from Potter as he could put her. Her knees were pulled to her chest, arms looped around them, her chin on her knees. They were trapped, stuck. They'd spent about an hour attacking the door, Harry trying several unlocking charms – most of which had not even sparked at his wand's end.
That was her fault. If it hadn't been for her, if he hadn't given away some of his magic to save her life, he'd have been able to incant, to fully cast.
But he couldn't.
So here they sat.
It was a good thing they both were able to see in the dark, because it was pitch black, not a hint of light save the moon outside. Even that didn't infiltrate the grimy windows. It wasn't bright enough.
The horcrux had been pulling at her mind for awhile now. Shuddering, she could almost hear a tiny, dull whisper, like some terrible specter whispering to her to doubt herself, to do bad things. She couldn't make out where it came from, and that made it even worse. Surrounded by dead bodies sealed in coffins, she half expected one of them to suddenly creek open and sit up, intent on killing them.
She still had nightmares about Dublin.
He doessssn't love you.
Her fingernails dug at her jeans, her eyes flickering towards where Harry sat. He too was on the ground, leaning against the doorway, one leg straight out, the other bent at the knee. His elbow rested on that knee, the hand attached rubbing wearily at his head. Every line of his face was drawn, tired, like it was taking all of his effort to concentrate.
If the things the horcrux said to her, if what it was doing to her was already this bad, she couldn't fathom what it was doing to him. He had one in him, so the voice, the persistence, the control…it'd be so much louder in him.
It'd been over an hour since he'd opened his eyes. He'd asked her to be quiet, to not say anything, so he could focus on Occlumency shields and drown it out.
It hadn't been until his eyes had turned black, Harry telling her that it was urging him to take her again, to smother her, that she'd realized the danger she was actually in.
As long as Harry was in close proximity to this thing, it'd try to convince him to hurt her.
So far he hadn't. He'd avoided it.
Part of Kalliandra wondered by how much.
She closed her eyes, burying her face against her knees, trying to drown it all out. Every so often they'd hear the booming flap outside, gargoyles clearly patrolling, circling the cemetery. Each one made her more afraid, wondering if this was it, the time they'd break inside and get them, and each time they passed without incident.
A snow storm had picked up outside, wind howling intermittingly. It was getting colder, each of her breaths misting on the air, the fierce, frigid cold seeping up and into her from the ground. Harry had long since stopped providing warming charms to her. He was afraid to touch her.
She couldn't help but notice that he'd stopped doing them on himself as well.
She sucked in a breath, then another. Harry loved her. He wasn't allowing her to slowly die, to freeze to death, for some sick and twisted pleasure. He was trying to block out the voice, the thing telling him to hurt her. He was afraid to touch her because if he did, he might give in. Her fingers felt numb. Her toes no longer seemed to exist. Even her phoenix wristlet had grown dull, lukewarm against her skin. Kally shivered so hard her teeth chattered, the Gryffindor's legs as tight to her torso as she could get them to preserve heat.
Something, someone whispered to her that Harry would rather have Hermione, Luna, someone who was a real witch. Someone who could do magic. Someone who wasn't a liability to him, who wasn't useless. Who-
"Kaylens."
Her face jerked up, out of her knees. Harry had finally dropped his hand away from his head, his eyes blearily opened, looking pained, cold. For a singular, terrifying moment she wondered if this was it, if he'd lost his fight with it, because nothing of who he usually was shone in his gaze.
She wanted to say something, to go to him, curl against him, to try to stay warm together, but didn't dare. She didn't even speak.
Something of her trepidation must have shown, Potter offering a wry grimace. "Not turned into Avery yet, love. Relax."
Kally wanted to feel relieved, but couldn't. That seemed like the kind of thing someone would say if they were trying to get their prey to actually relax.
"Hate to do this, but…gotta take a piss." He smiled humorlessly.
Kally blinked, glad she'd been too cold to think about something like that. They'd literally been locked in here for hours. All she could do was silently nod. Potter stiffly moved, standing, walking towards the grate at the far end of the mausoleum. It was tiny. One of the tour guides had told her all the mausoleums had them, for drainage in case of flooding, to prevent the bodies from becoming submerged and potentially polluting the local water sources.
She watched as he walked over there, preferring not to but not daring to look away as he moved, just in case he attacked. But all he did was put his back to her, the sound of his belt buckle being undone, and the zipper-
Kally averted her eyes as a steady stream of fluid began to splash down through the grate, tinkering against the old metal and running. The slight stench of urine in the enclosed space was subtle, it not long before she heard the zipper being zipped back up.
Kally wet her lips, glancing back at him, still shivering almost uncontrollably. His back was still to her, words a cold grind, like a wrought iron gate being forced open after it'd frozen.
"Sorry about that."
"Don't be," she said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. "Makes it less embarrassing for me if I have to later."
A slight snort filled the air. "We have the best bonding activities," he drawled. "Really, should write a book about it. The Boy-Who-Lived's Guide to Dating. Hermione would be fucking horrified."
Now it was her turn to snort.
"Step one," he continued, "get in a brawl and yank the hair out of her literal scalp. Step two, violate her privacy and steal memories directly from her mind. Step three, get punched. Step four, get a drink thrown in your face. Step five, wait till she almost drowns and steal a snog. Step six-"
"You're ridiculous." Even the cold tension couldn't stop her quiet laugh from escaping.
At that Harry turned, rubbing his gloved hands on his jeans. "Hell Kaylens, didn't even let me get to the part about losing my shit and yanking literal organs out of less than stellar behaving Death Eaters in a misguided attempt to show I care."
She feigned a careless shrug. "I actually liked that. It was like an impressionist artist's tableau, only with intestines in the forest."
Never once did either dare allow their voices to rise above bare whispers. They couldn't risk being heard.
The wind outside blew, howling, a sudden, sinister whispering filling the crypt. Kally's heart skipped, her trembling more pronounced than before. Harry fell silent, the slightest hints of normalcy now gone. They both knew what it was. They also both knew there was nothing they could do about it. Not yet. Not when all horcruxes fought back when you tried to kill them.
They'd agreed to wait for Black, for whenever he eventually found them.
Harry wrapped his arms around himself, bouncing unconsciously up and down on his feet to stay warm, looking fairly miserable. He'd given her his jumper before. All he had on was his jacket.
"Do you want to switch?" she questioned, before she could stop herself. Shifting slightly, she gave the oversized jumper a slight pull, indicating her meaning. "We could switch so you could get warm-"
The look he gave her was enough to silence her.
The problem was he was still looking at her, that hunting, predatory look back in his eyes. Kally instantly moved, drawing her legs back beneath her to stand-
"Don't," he ordered, closing his eyes and breathing deep. "I'm fine. I think…I think I have him blocked out, for now. Just…don't think I can hold back if I see you half naked again."
Her heart did more than skip; it nearly stopped. "Oh." She hadn't thought of that.
This time when Harry's eyes reopened they were clear, that same shade of infuriating green peering at her tiredly through the darkness. It looked like he was thinking something over, finally saying, "Your lips are blue."
She let out a shaky breath. "What's the matter," she whispered onto the chilled air, "don't like my shade of lipstick?"
She physically saw his throat rise and fall in a tense swallow. He looked stressed. "Not sure you even own makeup, Kal."
"I used to." Her brow furrowed. "Even used to wear it, actually." Seeing his expression, a faint smile touched her lips. "Hell Potter, I liked it."
Harry blinked, then leaned abruptly back against the shelves, as if he'd lost all energy. It looked like he was shifting his entire mental paradigm of her around to accommodate this new information. "Hell," he echoed, "I'm engaged to an actual girl."
Her heart skipped, breathing shaky. "A girl? You sound surprised. I feel like if you swung the other way that should have been divulged a bit sooner…"
"Yeah well," he said, darkly humored, "won't Ron be disappointed."
She narrowed her eyes as if she'd suspected all along. "I knew it."
"Such confidence," he said dryly. "I'm going to marry you and you're questioning who I'd rather do: you or Ron?" He quirked a curious eyebrow, his messy hair long enough to nearly veil his eyes.
There, in the crypt, unable to feel her fingers and toes, Kally still managed to breathe quietly. "Don't recall," she softly said, "ever saying yes." Her eyes flickered up to look at him, Potter standing there tense and resolute, looking right back.
"True." His eyes practically burned. "Also didn't say no."
She murmured agreement, unable to counter it and not wanting to. They were talking, after so long in silence, and something in her shamelessly begged for more conversation from him. At some point, at some strange and twisted and utterly insane point in her life she'd started to like talking to Potter.
And right now she desperately wanted to hear his voice so she could know that he was okay. So she could know the horcrux's claws were not fully in him. So she could know he was still there, even if he wouldn't touch her. Even if he wouldn't come near her. Even if he was afraid he'd hurt her. For awhile she'd been afraid he would too. Watching him as he sat there, fighting a silent battle with the insidious thing she could hear whispering in the dark, was terrifying.
It was terrifying because there was utterly nothing she could do to help him.
She was helpless.
Kally could still feel his hands on her, feel the way his breath had ghosted across her lips, his desperation palpable and radiating.
Harry's voice vibrated lowly, roughly. "Can't help but notice," he observed, "that you're also not arguing with me."
He was right.
She wasn't.
She breathed slowly, strangely unaffected by everything, words a quiet whisper, "This is crazy, isn't it?" she was scared this was a joke, that he'd laugh and take it all back, it a product of the horcrux and nothing more.
Insecurity slithered through her, Kally knowing why and where it stemmed, but unable to stop it. She sat there on the freezing floor, peering up at him like a small child. "I mean, Harry, you're sixteen-"
"Seventeen," he corrected. "Getting closer to eighteen, actually." His mouth drew into a humorless line. "Wouldn't worry though luv, even with all the time traveling you've still got me on the age thing. By a few months, at any rate." He'd crossed his arms, remaining right where he was, leaning against the far shelves holding up coffins.
Kally could only stare, her golden eyes taking him in. Eighteen…this wasn't her Harry. This wasn't her Harry at all. Hers was sixteen, back in the dorms at Hogwarts, undoubtedly trying to figure out a way to sneak her up to his dorm without Hermione reporting them.
Her heart skipped. "Still, shouldn't you be off snogging as many witches as you possibly can find? Isn't that what guys are suppo-"
"Found one." His tone cracked like a whip. "Snogged her. Liked it. Didn't see a pressing need to keep looking. Unless there's something I should know?" He quirked his brow at her, face an expressionless mask, his meaning clear.
He thought she might not want to.
She wet her lips nervously. "No. That's not it, I just…" Glancing away, at the door that refused to open no matter how much either of them had tried to force it, she sucked in a chilled breath. "Just I don't know. I never thought about this kind of thing, Potter. Especially not before I was done with school. Especially not after…"
She trailed off. She didn't need to finish. Harry would already know what she meant.
Reaches didn't live very long. So why on earth would she have ever considered any type of future?
"Besides Potter…don't you have things to do?" she questioned. "Like finishing school, or…or pretty much anything else?"
Potter let out a snort so derisive it was a wonder he didn't turn into Snape on the spot. "We're at war, Kaylens. One that might not be over for a hell of a long time. So what exactly makes you think I have any intention of actually finishing school?" She opened her mouth to splutter at him, only for him to shoot her a look that could have silenced the dead. "Rhetoric. I don't need to hear it. I'll get enough of that from Hermione as it is. So that's to start. Second, we're both of age, Kaylens. My parents were married at eighteen and had my charming ass by the time they were nineteen. Fairly common for wizards, not that'd you know."
Kally drew her legs to her chest, shivering pronounced. This…this was all insane. "If you think I'm having a kid at nineteen, Potter, you got hit harder in the head than I thought."
"Nah, was thinking thirty." His breath misted in front of his face. "Gives us at least a decade to sort out that whole Voldemort-taking-over-the-world thing before we have to worry about it."
Kally made an upset sound.
His mouth twitched darkly. "So how many kids do you want then?"
She about choked. "None." Pausing, unable to believe they were actually having this conversation given the circumstances, yet unable to think of anything else to do, she blurted, "Why? How many do you?"
"Three." He didn't bat an eye. "Would say we could compromise and settle on one and a half, but not exactly sure that'd work out so well for the kid. Unless of course you've got ideas on how to raise one leg, an arm, and a talking head?"
It took Kally a second to realize that the choking sound was coming from her.
Potter just smirked ruthlessly at her.
Letting out a groan she buried her face against her knees, groaning. Talking…talking was important. It'd keep Harry distracted. Yet what they were talking about had her wanting so very desperately to run. Prying open the drainage grate he'd just pissed down and crawling for it was sounding promising. "Swear to Merlin, Potter…"
"If you were this worried about it, Kaylens, then why didn't you just outright say no?" Her head shot up from her knees, finding Potter's green gaze locked onto her. "Told you, not going to take offense. Just means I'll have to wait. And in case it wasn't obvious, for you I will wait."
At some point her breathing had gone entirely shaky. "I didn't say no, Potter."
"Aware. What I'm asking is, why not?"
"Because…"
"Because why?"
"You know why."
There, in the quiet and cold crypt, one where they may very likely die, Potter's eyes blazed in the dark. "Course," he uttered, "that really clears it up. Can't believe I was confused on that point."
The sarcasm was so cold it physically hurt to breathe it in. There were things he wasn't thinking of. Things that were suddenly and acutely and terribly flying through her head. Things that she really shouldn't have to think about right now, but was because he was an ass. "If you actually want kids Potter," she said simply, "you might really want to rethink asking me anything."
Now he looked confused.
Kally hissed a breath, dragging a hand over her head and nearly dislodging her hat. "I'm a Reach, Potter. My mutation's fatal. Assuming I even lived long enough to actually-"
"You will."
"-have a kid, did it ever occur to you they'd inherit the same?" Her eyes flickered in the dark, stomach clenching. "I'm only alive because of what a Death Eater did to me, Harry. Because I'm not entirely human anymore. I don't- I don't think any kid of mine would be getting that same obscure and unpredictable treatment, and I'm not exactly keen to just up and create someone who would just die before they were twenty."
Judging from Potter's face, it was obvious he hadn't thought of that.
She wet her lips, looking abruptly away from him. This…this was not how she'd anticipated spending her evening.
Shockingly it didn't take forever for her boyfriend to speak. "How about," he said bluntly, "we worry about that when we get to it?"
Lifting her eyes she merely shot him a look.
He met it and didn't flinch.
Whatever had happened to him in the months to come, the ones he'd lived and she hadn't yet, had changed something in him.
The strange part was she wasn't scared of it, whatever it was.
He hissed a breath, dragging his hands over his face, before stopping, looking. Then Harry took a leaden step towards her, followed by another, then a third. Each step looked as if it were heavier than the one preceding, as if taking them had cost him something. Given the voice in his head, they probably did.
Kally might have moved, to put distance between them, but there was nowhere to go to, nowhere to run. She was probably too cold at this point to put up much of a fight anyway.
Harry dropped down alongside her, breathing hard, and didn't look at her. She noticed. Together they sat, alongside one another, his breathing loud in the otherwise penetrating silence. Neither mentioned what they'd just been talking about. In fact, it was as if the conversation had never occurred. Outside that horrible, terrible flapping came, the two of age wizards stiffening, afraid. Kally tried desperately to control the chattering of her teeth, so the gargoyle wouldn't hear.
Eventually it left.
Only then did Harry move, clumsily yanking off his glove, his movements clunky, as if his arms were no longer working right.
Then he'd grabbed her arm, sucking in a breath, Kally wordlessly watching as he shoved up her jacket sleeve to get at her bare skin, his hand pressing against her wrist.
Kalliandra watched as Potter's lips moved, his eyes closed, and then warmth spilled out of his fingers and into her. It swept through her hand, up her arm, through her left shoulder and even into her neck. Kally was shivering for an entirely new reason now, the cold in the rest of her somehow so, so much worse now that she remembered what warmth felt like.
Harry's hand abandoned her, the wizard pausing, as if steeling himself. Every movement he made was meticulously controlled as he blindly found her side, the brush of his fingers through her jacket still enough to make her quiver.
Then his hand lowered towards her thighs, sneaking its way below the hem of the jumper, before moving up beneath her jacket, to finally rest against her skin. His fingers were cold, Kally gasping, Potter momentarily freezing as if trying to control his thoughts, actions.
Then she slowly felt his thumb caressing her stomach, brushing past her navel. It was enough to nearly send her into hysterics, wanting him so badly yet also afraid. Harry was determinedly not looking at her, but once more he muttered a warming charm, and this time it poured out against her abdomen, her internal organs suddenly feeling the heat.
It stretched up past her chest, up to her face. It moved down from her bellybutton, past areas he'd claimed as intimately his, down to her knees. Kally shuddered, it sodding good. The sensation alone sent her hissing a pleasured breath, the Reach unaware of what hearing that and not acting actually cost him.
His hand jerked out from beneath his jumper that she wore, falling down to his side. He sat there stiffly for several seconds, then made to get up-
She grabbed his arm in the dark. His head jerked towards her, eyes ablaze. "Kaylens don't-"
"Stay," she quietly ordered. Eyes flickering over his, she watched his gaze slowly soften, regaining some control. "You're freezing. Do it on yourself now."
To her utter and complete surprise, he actually did. He still tried to move, Kally repeating her gesture, not wanting him to leave.
"Kaylens I could hurt you," he growled.
She studied him carefully. "No," she said, "you won't."
"How the fuck could you possibly know that?" This time his voice was near savage, it taking every tiny bit of resolve for her to not flinch. It was the horcrux talking in him. It had to be.
"Because," she said, "I refuse to believe you'd let even Voldemort talk you into hurting the only person willing to sleep with you."
Harry stared at her as if she'd gone insane. "You're really good for my ego, you know that?"
She ignored this. "If you didn't want me to realize how much you cared, Potter," she instead deflected, revealing what she'd noticed him doing, "then you should have cast warming charms on yourself tonight. Instead you didn't, because you hadn't done any on me and some stupidly noble part of you didn't want to be unfair and be warm when I was cold. Even if it would have been perfectly logical for you to not want to touch me while you pulled yourself together."
He simply stared at her, expression creasing. "Kaylens…"
She refused to let him finish, to let him argue. Instead she released his sleeve, knowing touching him right now might not be the best idea.
For a long, long moment they both looked at one another, there in the dark, their breaths misting in front of their faces.
Then slowly, very slowly he began to lean in.
Kally let him.
Eyes fluttering somewhat druggedly, Potter's breath ghosted against her mouth. "I really should move…"
"Probably…"
"But-"
"Yeah."
His lips brushed against hers, his hand rising, grabbing at her arm. Even through the coat it was like an electric shock, Kally making a small sound she didn't recognize. "Harry…"
"Kally," he muttered, lips grazing hers in speech, not claiming hers, not yet. "Kaylens, I love you. I don't-I don't care about anything fucking else. Just…"
"Just?" she could barely breathe.
"Don't say no." His hand slid to her hair, knocking off her hat, fist clenching-
Outside something crunched. Loudly.
They both froze, spell broken, Harry's eyes rocketing open in similar fashion to hers. Her heart was thundering against her ribcage, her breathing unsteady, Harry's grip on her arm tightening in silent command to stay silent. The hand in her hair instantly loosened, falling. In the deep shadows his mouth formed the words someone's outside.
No shit, she mouthed back.
The crunching got louder, like several sets of footsteps walking on frozen snow.
By slow, unspoken agreement, uncertain if it were Death Eaters, Voldemort, groundskeepers, Black, or something else altogether, they slowly moved apart. Kally tugged her legs beneath her, shakily standing, the cold having penetrated deep despite the warming charm. To be honest it felt like her legs weren't moving correctly.
Harry didn't look much better, but he was at least standing, wand somehow in hand, the wizard looking around the crypt for some form of weapon.
He didn't need one.
"They're in here!" came a hiss.
Kally already had both her hands out at her sides, magic ready to spark at her fingertips, but at the disembodied voice her brow furrowed. Harry outright froze, having already found a sizeable chunk of concrete, the improvised weapon having broken off over the years and fallen alongside one of the higher set coffins.
"By all means child, advertise it to the gargoyles. I'm certain they will be quite sympathetic given our noble quest of breaking and entering into one of their vaul-"
"Hermione," Harry's voice croaked, not very loud after hours of whispering. The relief in it Kally practically felt. He dropped the stone, rushing the door and pounding on it. "Hermione, Black! We're in here!"
Outside everything fell silent.
Then McGonagall's smug voice said, "I assured you my student would find them, Regulus."
The distinct sounds of incensed hissing erupted, clearly Black and McGonagall, along with another voice she couldn't quite make out.
She hadn't moved. She hadn't been able to. Until that second she'd been uncertain if she'd ever escape the mausoleum, part of her having been terrified that Potter wouldn't last the night.
Outside Black was muttering something dour, Kally falling back against the shelves in breathy shock, shaking with relief. "I bet he's trying not to strangle her," she said, but Harry didn't hear her, distracted.
He pounded on the door again.
"Harry, Kalliandra," Hermione called through the stone, "are you both okay?"
"Oh yeah, we're spectacular." Harry rolled his eyes. "Just getting some quality time chilling with a horcrux. Just what we always wanted. Thinking of taking it on vacation with us even. Really, you and Ron ought to give it a go."
Again, outside everything fell silent.
"Mr. Potter, do you mean to say-"
"Well it's either that or I've developed psychopathic urges to kill my own girlfriend so, take your pick."
Kally shot him an exasperated look, only for Harry to shrug. "What? Want me to lie?"
"In this case? Yes," she hissed.
Harry winced. "Sorry."
"Oh I cannot wait to get back to the cottage with them," Regulus said, sounding bored. "After murder attempts they'll be lovely to live with."
"Regulus that's hardly nice-" Hermione started.
They could practically feel Black's eye roll. "Nice has nothing to do with it. Now would you like ten galleons on Potter? I'd prefer to take Kalliandra in that fight. The witch has a certain access to poisons…"
Hermione began sputtering profoundly.
McGonagall merely sounded resigned. "Ms. Granger, if you would step aside-"
"No wait!" Outside Hermione seemed to have collected herself, it sounding like she had pressed herself up against the outer door. "Harry, if that's really you, then how did Kally and I meet and what happened when we did?"
"Carriages on the way to Hogwarts. Kaylens threatened to get out and walk, while I fantasized about pushing her out. Then you insisted on talking to her about classes."
A pause…
"It's them." Hermione sounded business-like.
McGonagall sounded somewhat annoyed. "Shoving a student out of a carriage, Mr. Potter? Rest assured, we will be having a chat regarding violent tendencies towards others."
"Sure Professor, we'll add it right to the top of the list between 'kill Voldemort' and 'DADA battle lessons.'
"Sarcasm," the Professor corrected, "is the lowest form of humor, Mr. Potter."
Harry rather looked like he wanted to punch something.
Hermione again. "Harry, can you open the door?"
From the other side of the door came a strangely aristocratic snort. "And this is your brightest student, Minerva?" Regulus drawled. "Really child, if they had been capable of opening the door don't you think they already would have? Or has Potter proven such troglodytic that you automatically assume he's in the habit of locking himself in places where he is certain to freeze to death overnight?"
Harry growled at the door, McGonagall hissing. "I will hardly have you insulting my students, Regulus."
"Ah of course, we wouldn't want their deficit of common sense to reflect poorly upon their purveyors of tutelage now would we?"
Even through a solid foot of stone they were able to hear Hermione's incensed breath. "Okay so you can't open it," she said logically, ignoring the arguments around her. "What have you tried doing so far, Harry?"
"Asides from brute force nothing. Can't exactly do much magic right now Hermione." He shot a betrayed look at his own hand, dryly biting, "Unless Kaylens here wants to risk incineration but, fires the only thing working…"
Kally winced. "Sorry," mumbled quietly. She was the reason he couldn't do magic after all.
Harry shot her a strange look. "Shouldn't be. Told you, I'd do it again."
Something squirmed uncomfortably inside her.
Oblivious to their conversation Hermione was talking aloud, almost to herself. "There are a few spells I could try, but if there's really a horcrux in there it might set off a trap and if we can't get to you quickly-"
McGonagall cut her off. "My apologies, Ms. Granger, but whereas I typically would be highly against the desecration of graves," Regulus snorted, drawling something about her and Albus' date nights, which McGonagall ignored, "we hardly have time for finesse. Particularly if a horcrux is at play. Mr. Potter, Ms. Kaylens, tell me, is there anywhere within the mausoleum where you could ensure that you are both out of alignment with the door?"
Harry stared, bewildered, looking around. Kally just questioned, "Define out of line…?"
"As in if we blast it in by blunt force is there a way for you to avoid becoming crushed?"
"You do realize those things will hear that?" Black said.
"Then perhaps someone should begin working on protective charms," McGonagall shot back.
Inside Potter had finished his assessment of the space, turning back and saying, "No," at the same time that Kally winced, saying, "Actually…there is." Harry's eyes flew to hers, staring at her. Kally met his gaze sheepishly, clarifying, "But you're not going to like it."
In the distance a loud roar echoed across the cemetery, Hermione squeaking, McGonagall tutting. "I am afraid our time is rather limited, Mr. Potter, Ms. Kaylens. Perhaps if you hurry then I will…" her voice trailed off, footsteps crunching in the snow and moving away.
A chill swept down her spine.
Harry looked at the door as if it were a viper. "Hermione…where'd McGonagall go?"
"To transfigure something," she said evasively. "Kally you were saying you had an idea of where-"
Alongside the mausoleum came the sound of footsteps, their Transfiguration Professor obviously walking around the small structure. Muffled words in Latin were said crisply and clearly, a flash of light lighting up the high windows, McGonagall disturbingly stating, "Good. Come along now, we have use for you."
Outside there was a grind.
Then it erupted, CRACKING, scraping, stone grinding. The voluminous noise was like nails on a chalkboard and Kally yelped, her ears feeling as if they would bleed.
Harry swore, grabbing his ears.
It was like listening to something unnatural walking.
Hands firmly on either side of her head, Kally spun around to look at a coffin now directly in front of her face. It was metal, sturdy looking enough. The name Elias Ross was carved upon it, Kally's heart beating swiftly as she contemplated exactly when she'd lost any and all sense of morality. She supposed at this point it didn't matter, because this coffin was made of metal, and it might just hold.
Another cacophonous scrape erupted from the alleyway between the mausoleums, a shadow passing one of the high windows. Kally's head darted up, seeing only the tips of stone wings passing by, seven feet off the ground.
The creepy statute of that angel she'd seen when Harry had pulled her behind the mausoleum hours before, snogging her senseless, was apparently animated. It walked by as if all of this were perfectly normal, squeezing through the narrow alley. Potter saw it too and made a sputtering sound.
Then the entire mausoleum rocked, the ground itself shaking, dust flaking down as a thunderous explosion was heard. This one seemed a lot closer.
They needed to leave, and needed to leave quick.
Kally spun, casting a glance full of trepidation back at Hazel's coffin, before turning her attention back to the metal one.
This time Harry followed her gaze, comprehension hitting him.
"Kaylens are you insane?" Another BOOM. He grabbed a shelf and held on. "We can't hide behind that! If they blast off the door it'll hit it. Directly. Unless you've developed some recent, dying urge to impersonate a bug splattered between that and the wall when it crushes us…"
This time she really winced. Amazing how everything could go from quiet, to cacophonous in moments. "Actually," she said hesitantly, "I thought about that, and I didn't mean behind it."
It took him a second.
"You can't be serious."
"I'm open to suggestions."
Harry drug a hand over his head so quickly his hat actually came off. "Fuck," he muttered. "Fuck."
"Fifty points Mr. Potter for foul and uncouth language!"
Harry was still staring at the coffin, his glove gripping his hair as if wanting to pull it out. Only this time when Harry used his new favorite word he did it quiet enough that McGonagall couldn't hear him.
Kally gestured frantically between him and the coffin with her arms.
He shook himself. "Shite." His eyes flashed towards hers, shockingly clear considering the fact that they were still in there, still under its influence. "Remind me to apologize to your ancestors when we get out of here."
Kally gaped at him. "My ancestors? They're not-"
"Oh yes," he drawled sarcastically, stalking over and grabbing at the lid, "because Riddle would choose just any Ross family to bury her with when it's conveniently your mum's surname. Or are you forgetting that the crypt opened up for you, even if it wouldn't for me?"
Cold washed over her, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. She hadn't thought of that. It hadn't even occurred to her. He'd been kissing her, fumbling with the door until she'd reached blindly behind her to touch the handle, the two stumbling in…
Voldemort had placed more defenses on the horcrux than they'd realized, and if it was spelled to only open for blood relatives…
It explained why he'd cursed Hazel's parents into forgetting where their daughter was buried.
Kally felt the blood draining from her face.
"Harry are you ready?" Hermione sounded only a little frantic.
"Not yet!" he shouted, curling his fingers around the coffin's lid and grunting, trying to force it open. It didn't budge. He planted his feet and put his shoulder into it, veins in his head looking ready to explode. Still nothing. Sucking in a breath, realizing she was ransacking her own family's tomb Kally grabbed at the other handle and tried to help, but age and time had rusted it shut.
Harry's hand slipped off, the wizard bashing his elbow against it and cussing loudly.
"Harry, what is it? Are you both okay?" Hermione sounded, if possible, more frantic.
Harry swore and danced around in a circle.
"He's fine, Hermione!" Kally called, earning a malevolent look from her boyfriend. She ignored this, stopping and looking around for something they could wedge, to get leverage. "Harry can't do magic right now so it's…complicating things. Is there anything out there that we could use to wedge a coffi-" she stopped herself, correcting, "something open? Like a metal pole, or a-"
"Would a wrought iron fence post work, girl?"
Kally could have kissed Regulus Black right then. "Yes!" Reaching a half-comforting, half-you-need-to-stop-bouncing hand out she grabbed Harry's arm, schooling her voice into false calm. "Along the side of the mausoleum there are some windows. If you break the glass you can pass the post right thro-"
She didn't get a chance to finish the sentence.
Glass came shattering in, flying everywhere like sparkling deadly shrapnel. Kally was pretty certain the startled sound she heard had come from her, but she didn't get a chance to reflect on it as deadly sharps flew in.
Harry'd grabbed her and thrown her to the floor before she could duck, the wizard throwing himselfover her with reflexive speed she'd not even realized he had. Glass rained down, tinkling against the stone and concrete floor around them, Harry's arm tossed over her head, his weight pressing down on top of her. The shards tinked harmlessly against his leather coat.
It took several seconds before it was over, but when it was the tension in Harry's form over hers seemed to drain, relaxing subtly.
McGonagall's stern shout all but broke their eardrums. "Regulus Black! I will not have you harming my students!"
"Sorry." He didn't sound sorry at all.
Kally lifted her face away from the ash-covered floor, the fibrous remnants of her burnt shirt very near her face, Harry easing himself off her. She barely had a chance to comprehend the loss of his reassuring weight when she found herself flipped over, Harry looking down at her with a peculiar look.
She sucked in a breath, realizing he was assessing her for injury with a clinical sort of calmness that was almost terrifying.
Kally found herself doing the same. "Your cheek's bleeding," she whispered, reaching up a hand.
He ignored this, snaring her hand in mid-air and moving. "Come on," he muttered, tugging her unceremoniously up.
"Harry you're hurt," she hissed.
He ignored that too.
Things were moving fast.
Black's voice shouted again. "It's coming in!"
Potter spun and shoved a foot on the lowest shelf, using it to stretch up high enough to snare the fence post as it was levitated in through the broken window. He hopped back down, spun it in hand, then with a move born of years of fighting and pent up aggression jammed it brutally into the coffin's opening.
Then he began to shove down on it, hard.
Kally stumbled back to get out of his way, the wrought iron wrenching around violently as he shoved his full weight on top of it. The sure way he handled himself, attacking it, his musculature taut and straining beneath his jacket...
The damn thing had come slightly unzipped in all the chaos, his chest faintly visible, Kally seriously wondering if she could remember how to breathe again in time to not pass out.
The coffin lid flew up with a resounding CRACK.
Harry tossed the post down, it clattering dangerously, turning to her with sweat dripping down his face despite the cold. He held out his hand. "Come on."
Kally could only stare, lips wet.
Harry grasped her expression, an exasperated one befalling him. "Seriously, Kal? Now?" He heaved a heavy breath. "Fucking horcrux…can't believe I'm saying this but get the hell over here and get in the coffin. Please."
Shaking herself she grabbed his hand, her wizard tugging her alongside him, the two now standing over it. Outside, in the distance, noises continued to erupt, things they couldn't decipher or put a visual to. It was utterly chilling. All they could do was stand there, staring down at the moldy padding that a half-century old corpse lay in.
The stench wasn't quite as bad as she'd imagined it'd be.
But it was still bad. Long dried formaldehyde and decay, mold and a stench similar to halitosis wafted out. Most of Elias Ross was covered in a faded, dusty, thread-bare suit. The muscle and flesh and fat on his hands and face had sunk in, the skin peeling down. His left cheek had a saggy bag of tissue just beneath the eye, looking like it had once covered a cheekbone or eye socket; the other cheek had nothing left, only bare bone and sinewy strands of flesh left behind. Some of his teeth down to the gum line were revealed, while the far side of his mouth bore a bloated, swollen lip as if the flesh had somehow puffed up and remained that way. The hair was long and stringy, the eyes sunken in, the nose turned up.
It was as if he had been a wax candle left out in the sun too long, so had melted.
Kally's stomach recoiled, hand flying over her mouth to cover it. Potter made a similar sound.
"POTTER! Time is something of an issue!" A pause. "IT'S COMING BACK! THREE O'CLOCK!"
Kally stared at the door in horror. "Black what's coming-"
A sharp tug directed her attention back to the coffin. "No time," Harry ordered, dropping her hand, reaching in to the coffin and grabbing the corpse around the shoulders. Kally felt ready to retch, but stepped closer, hesitantly grabbing the legs.
"Sorry," tilting his head to read the placard, "Elias." Harry glanced to the side, muttering, "One, two-" With a grunt the two of them lifted, dragging the dead wizard out of his coffin. Problem was Potter just let him drop, whereas Kally had tried to gently lower the man – one that was most likely her ancestor – at a more sedate pace.
Naturally, even though the desiccated cadaver was fairly light, it jerked her forward, Kally barely keeping hold of his legs.
The top half hit the concrete first, the dead man instantly bursting into a hundred pieces of dust and dead flesh and pieces of fabric, it all pluming up into her face.
Choking she recoiled, tripping backwards-
Potter caught her, yanking her forward, Kally thudding against his chest with a racking cough. She wheezed, hacking up an actual piece of dust. Potter just looked at her oddly, hands flexing on her form. "Well hell," he drawled, "that's attractive."
She scowled, ducking her head and choking. "You try," coughing, "inhaling the face," choking again, "of a dead guy."
He shook his head, mock tisking. "Such respect. That's your ancestor, Kal. At least apologize to the spirits."
"I hate you."
"Sure you do."
Her fingers curled against his coat. "You take me," she rasped, "to the nicest," coughing, "places."
He smirked. "Tell you what, next time we'll ransack my family's graves. Fair trade."
Still choking on the dead man she couldn't even slap him for that.
A second later Harry'd grabbed her and bodily tossed her into the coffin. She slammed inside, the only thing keeping it from physically hurting was that the fluffy, curiously grey cushioning was miraculously intact, even after so many years.
There was a strange, brown-black stain curiously near where the corpse's butt had been.
Kally physically gagged as she realized what it was from. Body fluids, leaking out one of the only two outlets they'd had to take. The cushioning she now lay on hadn'toriginally been gray, the fluids and mold having stained it black in spots. Making a distressed sound she scrambled to not touch that horrid-looking spot, choking for a whole new reason. "Harry you ass!"
The ass in question launched himself in after her, eyeing her oddly. "Attempts on your life," he drawled flatly, "you're fine with. Try to protect you in a secure box, you're pissed at the accommodations. Five star resort for the honeymoon I take it?"
She made a sound not unlike an angered harpy. "As long as our bed didn't recently have a leaking corpse in it I'll be fine!"
Potter clambered inside, trying to fit, doing his awkward best to not crush her. "No promises."
Kally hissed, trying to squirm to the side, pressing herself as flat to the edge as she could to make room for him. Two people in a one person coffin was not what this was designed for.
"This thing," Harry muttered, "would have a lot more," knee hitting her and causing her to yelp, "sorry," squirming, "room if it wasn't for this," growling, "padding."
"Yeah well," she winced, "you can write the manufacture a letter."
Harry shot her a withering look. "Oh yeah, I'll get right on owling 1945."
Kally tried to elbow padding out of the way. "Why do they even need padding? It's not like the person can feel anything."
"Makes their dead loved ones look pretty?" he sarcastically growled.
A voice, an angry McGonagall voice, erupted outside. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT TOOK DUMBLEDORE?!"
Both Harry and her froze.
"Well it had these claws…"
"NYMPHADORA MENODORA TONKS!"
Outside that ominous flapping arose.
Then something loud and large and angry sounding growled.
"See?" came Tonks' voice. "There it is."
Harry's eyes went shockingly wide, her wizard abruptly snaring her around the waist and wrenching her flush to his body, the two sinking inside together and finally fitting. Kally could feel every sodding inch of him pressing up against her, the jeans that had dug against her bare thigh hours before as he'd taken her, the belt buckle she'd personally undone uncomfortably digging into her waist. "Harry," she gasped, feeling something else. "Harry are you fucking serious? Right now?"
Harry's gaze locked onto hers. "How about we worry about my deviant turn on's later, yeah?"
She nearly laughed.
Potter reached up and grabbed the lid, bellowing. "Professor we're ready!"
"Gabriel!" McGonagall instantly responded. "Gabriel, do my bidding!"
Potter jerked the lid closed, it slamming with a resounding, suffocating thud.
They were enveloped in complete and utter darkness. Everything went silent. It was like the volume on a television set had been turned down, all the noise, the arguing, the disturbing screeching, and the shouting muted by the metal cage surrounding them.
Kally sucked in a frightened breath. Her breasts pressed hard to the solid planes of Potter's chest, his hips digging into hers, his face smashed tightly to her own as they both tensely waited. The sound of their breathing was shockingly loud, echoing inside.
It was tense.
"Who the hell," he muttered, breaking it, "is Gabriel?"
"Biblical figure," she murmured, practically feeling his lips. "Stone angel we saw out back," words breathy, "probably." Potter shifted, Kally gasping, mostly from what her boyfriend was doing to her.
Another slight movement elicited a sound even she was surprised at.
Both of Harry's arms had had enveloped in a tight vice, keeping her as close as possible so they could fit. "What's the matter Kaylens," he said with low amusement, breath warm and hot against her face, "uncomfortable?"
She hissed like a disgruntled cat. "Such an ass…"
He sniggered. "Told you, luv. You'd get bored with someone normal." He moved to crush her even closer-
She whimpered in pain. "Harry your elbow…"
"Sorry."
"Piss on that," she hissed, only for his mouth to find hers, shutting her up.
In the coffin they lay facing one another on their sides. Now Harry's legs tangled with hers, his large shoulder practically crushing her as he shifted, forcing her nearer in the confined space, her ribs practically breaking beneath the force. Kally made a whining, pained sound, but didn't ask him to stop.
And he didn't.
Instead they both gave abruptly in to the horcrux-driven need to touch, feel. Kally couldn't even be afraid of what it'd do next. She didn't have a single, solitary care so long as Potter kept kissing her. She was too exhausted, too cold, too everything to keep being scared.
Her knee slid between his legs, Harry gasping against her mouth-
The BOOM sounded as if it had traveled a great distance to reach them.
The dark world of moldy solitude upended.
Everything flew.
They jerked apart to avoid biting off one another's tongues.
The shelf beneath the coffin seemed to disappear.
Kally's hair lifted in front of her face, forming a halo. It seemed to float in mid-air for a second that lasted just a touch too long. For a second they were both weightless, Harry's arms jerking around her so protectively tight that a stab of panic shot through her. He could be trying to kill her again, to suffocate her, to-
She didn't get farther than that.
That frozen, weightless moment ended.
The coffin was thrown violently back.
They slammed violently into something – presumably the wall behind them – Potter crashing into her, her ribs and legs screaming, everything hurting as his bones crushed against hers. A loud, muffled crunching outside their metal cage sent her eardrums near bleeding. Kally screamed. Potter bellowed.
Then everything crumbled, and their entire world flipped.
Clinging to one another they slammed into the sides, ceiling, bottom. Her shoulder screamed in pain as the damaged nerves from so long ago were struck, the pressure of being thrown against it intense. In the blur of flipping and rolling and limbs and hair a singular, solitary THUNK struck the roof of the casket, the metal denting violently in near their faces with a loud twang and nearly taking out Potter's right eye.
Then they slammed to a halt.
For a second everything went still. Blood dripped from Potter's face. Kally registered something warm on her own arm.
Then whatever they had landed on began to vibrate.
And then it collapsed.
Outside their dark world the ground dropped out from beneath the coffin. Kally's stomach flew into her throat as gravity claimed them.
Then they fell, the metal coffin falling with an unceremonious thunk, jarring them on impact before it rolled one final time, thudding to a halt.
Kally found herself on top of Harry, hair hanging in his face.
The coffin had clearly landed on its side.
Potter coughed, as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Kally shoving her palms down to try to take her weight off him so the imbecile could breathe, letting out a small cry as her shoulder sent blazing knives of pain rocketing down towards her fingers.
Potter's eyes cracked at that, eyeing her with clearconcern even as he drug in another ragged gulp of air. She could only gasp, unable to speak, nodding to convey she was alright. A strange, high-pitched buzzing rang in her ears. Potter choked down another lungful of air, Kally noticing the horrible gash on his face.
Now he had two.
"Potter," she choked, trying to shift and only succeeding in hitting the back of her head on the cushions, "you're bleeding."
"Yeah?" he croaked, shifting himself. "What else is new?"
"You're bleeding more."
He coughed, glancing away at the dented in lid.
A second later his arm had tightened around her waist, the wizard shifting, then kicking at the lid of their prison.
It flew open with a screech, something cracking as the hinges broke, the lid falling right off the coffin and clanking loudly inside the decimated mausoleum. A field of rubble surrounded them, the air fogged with a haze of dust. Scattered body parts lay everywhere, the wooden coffins not having held up as well as their own metal shelter, and snow flaked down from a small hole in the ceiling.
It looked like some old Egyptian deity had grown furious and torn apart a bunch of mummies, tossing random pieces around liberally as concrete dust plumed skyward in the enclosed space
Kally made the mistake of trying to breath.
So did Harry.
The two began coughing, Harry's arm tightening as he tried to ease her off him. Kally got the hint, succeeding only in rolling off him and onto a stone slab with a quiet cry. It hurt. She lay there for a second, wincing, Harry rolling inelegantly out with a grunt of his own.
It took her a second as her vision refocused to see it.
There, looming in the darkness, was a huge silhouette with wings.
It had kicked the mausoleum door clear off its hinges, and that was the stone slab Kally now lay on.
Minerva McGonagall walked inside, waving her hand in front of her face to dispel the floating debris, her hair wrapped in a tight bun on top of her head, a scarf draped around her shoulders.
"Mr. Potter, Ms. Kaylens, are you quite alright?" She sent the statue a frown. "I had anticipated the overall effect but with significantly less exuberance."
The statue's head had taken out a small section of roof, so they were unable to see if it looked suitably abashed or not.
Kally managed a weak thumb's up.
Potter had already shoved himself up, blood smearing down his face, leaving them both to eye him worriedly. He seemed unconcerned, looking up with a wince. "Nice statue, Professor."
And right then, amongst the debris and rubble, the coffin labeled Hazel Ross began to let out an acrid, blue-green gas.
It smelled disturbingly like bleach.
ECOTS
Author's Note: A note on updates… to be transparent, my sister died just over a week ago. She was obviously fairly young and left behind two young children. Since I live cross country I will be playing the 'traveling 2000 miles' game back and forth as often as feasible in the upcoming months to see them in addition to our wilderness EMT activities and my day job. So, while I will attempt to get chapters updated as often as possible (and I will do my best, particularly now that my hand is healed), please do not be shocked if there are chapter delays. I promise it's not a loss of interest in finishing this or anything, it's simply a lack of time between work and helping out family as they transition through all of this, skyping nieces to help them with homework, getting my own head around it (as this is my second sibling I've lost and the only one I had left) and things of that nature. I wanted to be blunt about why I may be slower (I very well may not be slower, but I may, so just in case…).
