Chapter 75 ~ Well Hell, Let's Just Plan it All Out, Shall We?
"Only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not so sure about the former."
~ Albert Einstein
ECOTS
January 2nd, 1997 ~ 3:00 a.m.
The debriefing had been short.
Dumbledore and Lupin had stumbled back, having been apparated away with Dobby, the two looking worse for the wear but altogether alive. A giant flap of robes had been missing from the general vicinity of the Headmaster's ass, an explanation of 'I had heard the gluteus was a particularly tender part of meat on an African safari's documentary, but harbored little clue that a gargoyle's taste preferences swung in that direction' disturbingly provided.
It got worse when Lupin asked when exactly Dumbledore had had time to see a Muggle documentary, the wizard providing an overly detailed explanation about a rather interesting date he'd once had with an intriguing zoologist, who had excellent glutes himself.
Had Harry not already been ready to break things he might have had it in him to get traumatized by the sheer concept of Dumbledore dating.
As it was, Dobby had apparated them all to the Shrieking Shack just outside of Hogsmeade. It was as ratty and dust-strewn as he remembered, Hermione wrinkling her nose in distaste, while Tonks had seized upon the distraction of a new environment with the excitement of a toddler. She'd instantly begun bolting from room to room, running amidst the wrecked furniture, all the while making comments about what a hound Lupin was, and how if this was where he'd stayed during his Hogwarts years then he clearly knew how to 'throw down' and had been holding out on her.
Lupin, to his credit, had merely rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned.
Tonks had strolled in with an innocent smirk that fooled no one. "Why Remykins, if you didn't want the general commentary on your prowess you shouldn't have involved me in your sex life. I mean really," she cast a wink in Harry's direction, as if sharing a private joke, "you are clearly into breaking things. You must have been holding back with-"
Hermione gave in and threw a well-aimed silencing charm at the Auror.
This did little to stop Tonks' commentary, which she continued using miming, explicit gestures.
Lupin simply stared at her as if she were a particularly unique species he was considering cutting open to examine in DADA class.
Despite Tonks' feigned exuberance and off color commentary, Harry hadn't missed how she had inconspicuously cast human detection spells and silencing wards as she'd bolted from room to room. She might be a bit excitable, but she was still an Auror.
Harry had made a mental note to ask her if that was how she got people to underestimate her, and if that made it easier for her to get the drop on them. He'd ask later. When she wasn't miming Lupin taking her from behi-
Harry died a little inside as he realized what he was seeing.
Mercifully Regulus and McGonagall arrived then.
The Deputy Headmistress' ordinarily asture bun was askew, an annoyed, disapproving look on her face. "I so do detest stone edifices lacking a sense of humor." She flicked debris off her robes, shot Tonks a scolding look, then noticed Dumbledore's very white and wrinkled ass. "Honestly Albus, there are students present." A flick of her wand sent an old and moldy couch cushion transfiguring into a cloak, it tossed at Dumbledore with strict orders to 'do something about that unsightly draft.'
The entire time Kaylens had remained preternaturally silent. Harry thought about going to her, for all of half a second.
Black beat him to it.
Harry stood there, awkward, doing his best to stay as far away from Hermione in the room as he possibly could. That wasn't an issue, given Hermione appeared to be doing the same.
Black, however, had been eyeing Kalliandra since the moment he'd apparated into the mold-infested room. A shrewd, almost menacing look was directed between Harry and her, as if he were putting two-and-two together.
Then the bastard approached where she sat on the decaying stairwell, releasing a long suffering sigh. Without prelude he sat down alongside her, and then, looking like he was rather thinking better of it, lifted a hand, hesitated, then thudded it onto her shoulder as if to say, 'There, there. It's alright. I'll kill him for you.'
The look Black levelled in his direction definitely promised that.
Harry winced.
"What happened to the gargoyles?" Hermione asked, looking worried.
Leave it to Hermione to worry about things that had tried to kill them.
"Now that the horcrux has been destroyed," McGonagall said primly, "nothing. We left them to their own devices. It is my belief that having that monstrosity in the cemetery for so long rather…damaged them. Though they did become oddly easy to reason with once Goliath pinned them."
Hermione looked horrified.
"I assure you, Ms. Granger," McGonagall assured, "we will be checking in on them during a more…reasonable hour of the day."
Harry rubbed his face tiredly. "You mean one where they're not so prone to instant attack?"
Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Partially driven mad from decades residing alongside pure, pervasive evil? Even the best of us without a predilection for destruction would become, dare I say, twisted?"
From a doorway Tonks snorted loudly, sending dust on a fixture scattering.
A doxie was not far behind, Lupin groaning and moving to pursue. Tonks had rather gleefully offered her assistance, disappearing right behind him, only for a series of strange sounds and thumps to be heard.
They came back several minutes later, and Harry swore to things unholy that Lupin's shirt was on inside out.
The debriefing went quick. The horcrux had been destroyed. Hazel Scott had been finally freed. They all agreed that Riddle had obviously been visiting her, so he'd find out she was finally, after so many years, dead.
And when he did…he'd be pissed.
However sick and twisted Riddle's feelings for Hazel had been, he'd be out for revenge. Harry got that. If someone took his girlfriend away from him, he'd be on the war path. He'd want revenge, and given what he'd done to Dolores Umbridge, the Carrows and Lestrange he sure as fuck couldn't claim he wouldn't do it in as violent and messy a way as possible.
Dumbledore affirmed that a guard could be placed outside the Scotts' home, to ensure their protection, as that might be the first place Voldemort went.
Six horcruxes had thus far been destroyed. Riddle's school boy diary, Riddle Senior's pocket watch, the tree in the Forbidden Forest, the compass in the sunken ship, the galleon that had been implanted into Bellatrix's hand, and Hazel's locket.
Six down, seven more to go, including the one inside his own head.
Harry did not miss the fleeting look Kaylens sent his way, it the first time she'd so much as looked at him since they'd crawled out of that tunnel.
Dumbledore pointed out that he was highly certain Nagini was another horcrux, based off Harry's past nightmare, seeing things from Nagini's perspective when Arthur Weasley had been attacked.
That earned several curious looks in his direction, namely from Black and Kaylens. Hell, even Tonks sounded surprised. "Harry, that hot tip was from you?"
Clearly the Order hadn't shared everything with all its members.
He offered a strained grimace, jade gaze cutting through the dark room. It landed on Kaylens, even if his words addressed Tonks. "Yeah." His throat worked in an attempt to swallow. "Tons of fun, that one was."
The metamorphmagus let out a low whistle.
Black merely looked calculating. "So we know of seven, six of which have been destroyed." The look he was giving him…it was like watching a predator adding things up, doing calculations, figuring something out.
Like why Harry would be able to see through the eyes of another horcrux.
Like why Harry could sniff them out with so much ease.
Harry swallowed heavily. "Yeah. We know of seven." If they weren't counting him. But really, he saw no reason to point out to the room at large that a parasitic Voldemort lived inside his own skull and would obviously have to fucking go.
He wouldn't put it past Black to kill him on the spot on general principle.
Kaylens already knew though. Her eyes swirled with so much confliction he felt physically fucking ill. He held her gaze steadily. Nervously.
She offered him a weak smile; he offered one back.
Her eyes tore away, fixing on a spot on the floor.
His heart dropped.
Black shot him a look so black it was a wonder the man didn't pull out a wand to hex him there and then.
"So we think there are five more then," Tonks said aloud, oblivious to the exchange. She spun her wand, oblivious to the fact that she was standing in a room with the thirteenth and last horcrux, the one inside his head. Oblivious to the fact that they only had to identify four more, not five, because she was actively friends with one.
They had four more to find, six more to kill, and not a clue of where to start. It seemed impossible.
A wave of despair swept over him so swift and acute he had to close his eyes to avoid feeling sick.
"Presumably," Black muttered, eyeing his cousin as if she were a disposable breed of flobberworm.
Dumbledore and McGonagall had remained oddly quiet throughout the exchange.
Harry found out why a moment later when Tonks and Remus were obliviated, knocked unconscious, and removed.
McGonagall looked like she'd had just a bit too much fun doing that.
And that was how the debriefing ended. McGonagall, Hermione and Dumbledore headed back to Hogwarts through the Shrieking Shack's passage, presumably to 'check on the structural stability' per Dumbledore, while Dobby took a firm hold of he, Kaylens and Black, taking them back to the cottage. Someone was allegedly coming back for Tonks and Lupin.
Allegedly.
That had been two days ago.
ECOTS
January 4th, 1997 ~ 9:00 a.m.
Regulus Black lay sprawled out on a couch in uncharacteristic fashion.
The couch in question had been moved to the side of the room, directly in front of a bedroom door. This particular door belonged to Kalliandra, and the Healer turned Muggle physician had formed a deplorable blockade that would indubitably ensure that no Potter breached the door's defenses; the defense being him.
Regulus Black was on guard duty. Reading old tomes on poisons and antidotes had been his only refuge from his current state of complete and undeniable boredom. So he lay sprawled out on the couch, feet slung up on the arm of the couch, a tome on untraceable toxins in front of his long nose, reading.
A pity, that his…babysitting duties had reduced him to this undignified state. For as much fun as it was to imagine the increasingly frothy deaths he could reduce Potter to with just a slip of the right magical herb into his breakfast, he'd heard more than enough at that cemetery to have put two and two together.
Potter had clearly deflowered Kalliandra in a cemetery crypt.
Had Potter not been the alleged wizarding savior he'd have already killed the man himself. Strangling with his bare hands would have been his chosen method. Regulus, indeed, did his best to not think upon why he might harbor slight protective tendencies towards the young woman, given it was not a Slytherin's prerogative to particularly care about anyone beyond themselves.
Besides, he had tried doing that once. It hadn't worked out.
Concern wasn't a good look on him.
Footsteps caused Regulus to lower his threatening literature, sending a sidelong glare in Potter's direction. Predictably the wizard was back, hovering like a wraith that was uncertain about what he should do.
"What about a couple of days did you not understand?" Regulus questioned. "Was it the phrase couple or the mere concept of not getting your way? I would of course, be happy to lend you a dictionary if you require basic instruction in grasping the English language?"
Potter shot him a look. "Last time I checked it's been two days." The wizard tilted his head somewhat challengingly. "Unless the word couple has come to mean more than two?"
"Literal definitions, Potter? My, my, you have been spending too much time with that bookish friend of yours."
"Her name is Hermione."
Black snorted. "By all means, Potter. If you want to shout the other woman's name loud enough for that girlfriend of yours to hear you…"
That caused Potter's expression to crease, as if recently slapped. Regulus took note of it. He may need to mull that piece of information over when deciding whether or not to slip poison into the boy's food.
He really was undecided about that. Just because he could not kill him, did not mean he could not torture the wizard to within an inch of his life.
With a regretful sigh Regulus closed Neurotoxin Tolerance, Volume 2 and sat up. His lower back gave a dull throb from the unnatural position he'd been occupying for the past forty eight hours. He mentally cursed his age and fixed Potter with a dull look.
The boy, or rather man, hadn't come any closer. He was leaned up against a supporting wall between the cottage's living room and kitchen, dark green eyes staring at the doorway to what had once been Ariana Dumbledore's bedroom.
Regulus Black had all but sealed Kalliandra inside of it two days ago, after ensuring she took a particular potion that would be quite painful to her, but would absolutely ensure no Potter spawn would roam the earth anytime soon.
He was not allowing anyone under his care to have that happen to them as the result of a horcrux-induced tumble.
Irregardless, after forty eight hours the Reach ought to be feeling better.
And still she had not come out.
Black could only assume this meant she did not want to be bothered. He could commiserate with that. Potter was, after all, insufferably annoying.
Potter's words were drawn. "Is she alright?"
"Why don't," Regulus heard himself saying, "you tell me?"
For a moment the wizard said nothing, just grimaced, line of his mouth growing tight. A strange buzzing was heard from within the kitchen, one of the Dumbledore family's many animated objects – a dragonfly carved out of stone - flying circles around the doorframe in stark defiance to gravity and physics.
Regulus pointedly waited.
"I don't have to tell you a thing." Potter's gaze tore away from the door to glare at him. "But short of her having told you she didn't want to see me I am going to talk to her."
Ah, there was that surly spark the boy sometimes got. Regulus leaned back on the couch and smirked. "Ah yes, of course…I'm sure she'll be thrilled." He waited a moment for it to sink in, drawling, "Based off your less than…discrete commentary, if my deductive reasoning proves sound, you merely deflowered her, attempted to murder her, before infideliously 'hooking up'," in air quotes, "with another witch mere hours afterwards. I cannot possibly fathom why she would not want to bear your presence. My, my Potter, whatever has gotten into her?"
It looked like a knife had been shoved straight into Potter's stomach. "I didn't try to kill her."
How interesting that he had not protested the other accusations.
Regulus waved a hand dismissively. "A minor detail. You surely did something of that variety, Potter. And I assure you women in general aren't the most forgiving sort."
Every muscle in the wizard had gone tense. "Kally's not like that."
Regulus' eyebrow shot up. "That's naïve even for you."
The boy wonder looked stricken.
And then he didn't.
He looked determined. "I'm going in there to see her, Black."
Regulus considered it. He considered the fact that this boy was utterly useless without the girl, and that she was, for some inexplicable reason, stricken equally by him.
So Regulus did the only thing he could do; he smirked, gesturing a hand with false gallantry behind him. "By all means. The potion is bound to have worn off by now, but if you do find her writhing around in pain do summon me. I assure you, my remedies are far more effective than any soothing attempts you might make."
Potter had taken two steps as soon as the words 'by all means' were spoken, only to halt. "What do you mean writhing around in pain?"
Regulus had already dropped back down onto the couch with his book, sending the wizard a dour look. "You had unprotected sex with the girl. Surely you didn't think that not taking a contraceptive potion would be wise? I ensured she took one post haste."
The man, who he was rapidly downgrading to the status of boy, stared at him as if just realizing that.
Regulus hissed an annoyed breath.
Potter just stared. "And that made her sick?"
Having grown bored, Regulus re-opened his book and attempted to find the page he'd been on. "What about 'writhing in pain' was unclear?"
Potter made a strange sort of sound. Regulus imagined it was rather like what a dying niffler might make. And then the troglodyte opened his mouth, attempted to access his higher thought processes, and uttered words as if accusing him of some grievous offense.
"She never got sick before."
Regulus cursed the wizard's parents and their sex drive, which at present, was the only explanation for Potter's existence. Perhaps if Regulus nicked the time turner and went back in time far enough he could convince Potter Senior and the Misses what an annoyance their future offspring would be. With any luck they'd learn the meaning of the word rubbers.
Maybe it'd just be easier to castrate James Potter flat out. Yes. That would indeed be a viable solution. It was the only way to be sure.
"How sick was she?"
What he would do for a large glass of alcohol. A pity that he'd drank the cottage clean. He flipped a page with thinly veiled irritation. "I will ignore the slight on my potions abilities, Potter, and kindly point out that your past dalliances invariably toyed with pre-coital contraceptives. Post-coital are far more harsh given they do not simply prevent the release of the female counterpart's egg from the ovary but indeed have to prevent fertilization altogether. Even magic has yet to perfect painless potions capable of succeeding in that. So, to answer your dullard-like inquiry, she was about a six on the happy smiley to frowny face scale of one to ten that you Poppy-fan-ingrates are so fond of using. Probably would have been less but she did seem to have a bit of an allergy to it."
Potter's silence was deafening. "So she wasn't-"
Black realized the question he was about to ask and scowled. "Nothing so crude you cretin. We're wizards, not barbarians." He was not in the business of killing.
The look of relief on Potter's face was palpable.
Regulus shot him a disgusted look, returning to his book. "Now if you would Potter, do man up, risk entering, and if she does decide to inflict physical harm upon you do keep it down. I am fighting the vestiges of an encroaching migraine, for which I have you to blame."
Potter cursed something that would have had him scrubbing cauldrons for a month, but did just that.
Naturally, just when he thought he could relax, he heard Potter cussing again.
Kalliandra, it appeared, was not there.
And neither was that blasted, incendiary pigeon of his.
Regulus closed his eyes and vowed to never agree to babysit again.
ECOTS
The second he walked into the room the cold hit him.
Rooms, he reasoned, were not supposed to be cold.
This one was.
Fierce, blustery, January cold was barely held at bay by the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. The wooden logs popped as if all was well, when it was anything but. An icy breeze struck him like a slap to the face, and Harry hissed a frigid breath that misted in front of his nose like Myrtle materializing overly close to offer him another hand job because she'd been practicing.
Harry shuddered at the thought, and then realized…
Kaylens wasn't there.
Kaylens was gone.
Ariana Dumbledore's room was empty. The sheets of the bed were rumpled. Fawkes, that little bastard of a familiar, was conveniently absent, and the window was wide open. Kaylens poor housekeeping skills were letting in air cold enough to send his balls curling up inside him for winter as if they were freaking groundhogs.
The sunlight streaming in did absolutely nothing to warm a damn thing.
There was a handprint in the windowsill; it took Harry a disturbingly long ten seconds to realize she'd gone out it.
Cussing, he spared two seconds to cast a questioning look at the Great Horned owl that Kaylens had taken to keeping as a pet. The thing was still recovering from Voldemort's blows to it, but at least that animal was actually there. Unlike Fawkes. Unlike Hedwig. Hell, even unlike Dobby. The owl lifted its head somewhat weakly, as if sensing the waves of panic rolling off him, and deigned to take mercy on the human imbecile.
It clacked its beak weakly in the window's direction.
Harry about choked. "Thanks."
Kaylens' owl settled back down into its overly fluffed blankets to presumably relax in the frigid air.
"Fuck," he muttered, smacking his hands together. He bolted towards the window, Harry not even realizing he'd shouted out the door, informing Black that Kaylens was gone, until he'd done it and received no response.
Black either ignored him or didn't seem to care.
"Lot of fucking concern you have," he snarled, peering outside. There were footprints. Clear and discernable footprints setting off down the rocky beach. Kaylens-sized footprints.
The fact that there was only one set calmed him. Marginally.
He hadn't even realized that 'abduction by Death Eater' had occurred to him as a possibility until that very moment.
With an oath Harry shoved himself out the window. He didn't bother to go back for a cloak, coat, hat or anything even remotely resembling sane protection from the elements. Instead he muttered a warming charm at himself, the thing giving him a modicum of warmth against the frigid air as he landed solidly in a snow pile. And what luck he had – it was deep enough to get inside both his shoes.
Harry cussed, loudly.
He set off at a pace fast enough to hurry, but slow enough to not disturb the tracks.
Thanks to the snow, tracking Kaylens wasn't that hard. Really, it was like following a magical trail of breadcrumbs.
It took him all of three minutes to find her. Three minutes with his heart in his throat. Fear, irrational as it was, had daggered through him the instant he'd seen the room empty. Anger at Black for not checking on her had held it at bay. Anger at himself for having hurt her enough to make her not want to see him was a close second. Anger at her for having left the safety of the cottage was an even closer third.
The moment they'd gotten back from that monstrosity of a train wreck they'd called a horcrux-finding-attempt Black had snared Kaylens by the sleeve, drug her into Ariana's room, only for Black to emerge after a quarter of an hour to announce that he'd gladly castrate him before allowing him to see her. In fact, Black had informed him, somewhat sinisterly, to give her a couple of days to deal.
Harry had tried to shove bodily past him anyways.
Then Black had snidely informed him that it was Kalliandra who had asked.
That'd frozen Harry's legs damn near solid to the floor. Given that he had almost snogged Hermione, he hadn't been in a position to argue. And he hadn't.
So, after spending two days agonizing over shit he found himself standing outside in nothing more than a jumper and his rapidly freezing jeans, snow shoved down his damn shoes and soaking his socks, staring at the forms of Kalliandra and Fawkes with blatant relief.
She was alright. She was fine. She was right there in front of him.
She was also obviously insane.
Harry really ought to be used to this by now.
Fawkes and Kaylens sat inadvisably close to the rocky, snow-covered shoreline, as if thinking about taking a soothing summer dip in the sub-freezing temperatures. The ocean's winter waters bashed against the angry black rocks repeatedly, sending surf and spray flying high. The airborne water crystallized instantly into bits of snow.
Despite the sun the morning carried a bone deep cold so cold it made your skin physically hurt.
Kaylens and Fawkes didn't seem to notice. They sat just outside the splash zone. Kally had her legs curled beneath her, furry boots on her feet and an oversized cloak tossed around her shoulders. She had a second cloak on her, black hood pulled over her head. Fawkes crackled. Literally. The phoenix's feathers were on fire, forming a ring of wet, damp ground where the snow had melted away around him.
They looked like two travelers, impervious to winter, ready to have a fucking snow-picnic.
But that wasn't the surreal part.
No.
The surreal part was that a chess board lay open on the fluffy white powder between them.
And for the love of undead things Harry swore they appeared to be playing a game of wizard's chess.
Fawkes reached out with his talon, flames disappearing from his gleaming claw – presumably to avoid igniting the chess piece - and shoved a bishop diagonally two spots to the left.
Then his phoenix dropped his claw back to the ground, where it promptly reignited. Kaylens held one of her hands above the bird's head as if warming herself over a bonfire.
Harry blinked, then blinked again.
Neither had noticed him.
Harry opened his mouth to try to say something, only to fail.
Kaylens moved a chess piece, Fawkes padding on fiery feet closer to the board to scrutinize the move, before un-igniting his head and using his beak to shove a pawn forward one square.
Harry reckoned this must be what that Alice had felt like when she fell through that rabbit hole, only to find the rodent wearing a hat and hosting a fucking tea party. He could have sworn Hermione had babbled something about that in her attempt to catch him up on basic Muggle's children's tales.
Well shit.
"Please tell me," he posed heavily, "you hexed me for being an ass and that seeing this is the result of some sort of concussion?"
Kalliandra's mittened fingers froze on a knight.
Harry snorted, muttering another warming charm on himself and feeling warmth wash over his inadequate clothing, keeping his body just a notch above complete numbness. Hypothermia was a real bitch he wasn't partial to testing out. Really, tracking down his girlfriend ranked high on his super pleasant list today. "Hi, by the way."
He completely and totally failed at keeping the irritation out of his voice.
Fawkes turned a flaming head in his direction, eyeing him with a concerning amount of malice.
Great, now even his familiar was pissed at him.
Harry sighed, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he waited for Kally to say something, anything.
Oddly she did not keep him waiting. Normally she'd make him suffer just a little.
"So…" the word was hesitant, careful. "Black let you in I take it?" Her fingers seized the knight and moved it in an L shape, seizing Fawkes' bishop.
Harry's stomach dropped out. Black had told him she'd requested he stay away, but hearing confirmation… "Yeah." He studied her. "Found you weren't there. Got worried."
Her pretty face looked upset for a brief moment, before the expression was gone.
She didn't look at him; she simply stared at the chess board, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
Fawkes ignored all of this, once again giving zero fucks. The phoenix merely sniffed through his beak, flicking out a claw and contemptuously claiming Kaylens' knight with his queen.
In fact, claiming the knight was not enough. That damnable excuse of feathers lifted its talon and flicked it right off the board and into the ocean surf.
Kaylens' eyes followed its flight, eyeing where it landed with unveiled annoyance. "You know you're explaining to Dumbledore why his chess set is missing a piece."
The phoenix rolled its beady black eyes and vanished in a puff of flames, reappearing as a flash in the water, a wave rolling over its crimson feathers, before once more disappearing and reappearing right in front of Kaylens.
Fawkes held the dripping knight in its beak, dropping it pointedly onto the snow in front of Kaylens as if to say 'here, stop whining.'
Then it shook itself out, sending water droplets flying. Kaylens let out a yelp as she got splashed. Fawkes simply burst back into a fiery ball, the flames re-erupting with an audible roar.
Kaylens wiped her face off with the cloak. "Ass."
Fawkes made a trilling, musical sound that sounded like a chuckle.
Harry choked. "My god…you're arguing."
A set of hazel eyes glanced at him with poorly veiled irritation. "Arguing would imply someone's winning. And I am not conceding defeat to a bird."
Fawkes lifted his claw, extending a single talon straight up in the air as if to flip her off.
Kaylens' head snapped back, flipping the phoenix off right back.
Harry hadn't even known birds could do that.
His girlfriend's attention had already moved on, flickering back to the chess board, her nose crinkling as if deep in thought.
Harry felt like his own nose was about to freeze off, and seriously wondered when events like this had become normal. "Kaylens…"
"Potter."
He raked his hand through his unruly hair and tugged.
His girlfriend sighed.
Fawkes rustled his burning feathers.
Harry contemplated punching something. This…this wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to be nervous around her. But he was. She hadn't wanted him around. After everything they'd been through she'd still asked Black to keep him away from her. After everything they'd talked about in that crypt, after they'd talked about the future, marriage, after she pointedly hadn't said no, voicing her fears about not wanting damn kids… They'd talked about it like they were reasonable damn of age wizards, and after all of that, realizing Kally hadn't wanted to see him cut at his insides in a way the January cold couldn't even touch.
Harry had thought he'd made it damn clear he was in love with her.
He was scared he was losing her.
He was determined not to.
He had no fucking clue what to do. In all of Fred and George's unwanted tips on how to deal with girls, there hadn't exactly been a memo on what to do when you fucked your girlfriend, proposed to her, then snogged another girl under the influence of a dark object while the aforementioned girlfriend's undead doppleganger watched, all within a six hour time span.
As if reading his thoughts Kally shifted, holding out one side of the oversized cloak in silent invitation.
When he didn't move she cast a glance back over her shoulder. "Are you seriously going to make me ask?" A small frown crossed her face as she clearly got her first good look at him and his state of poor dress. Her lips parted, then closed, as if wanting to ask, but thinking better of it.
He couldn't blame her. Over the past year he'd given her some seriously weird shit in response to simple questions like 'why are there claw marks down your coat?' and 'Potter, why is your shirt sleeve missing?'
Most had involved brawling with Ron in werewolf form, but there'd been a few involving hinkypinks and disgruntled house elves.
Ultimately she gave the side of the oversized robe, one she was currently using as a blanket, a pointed flap.
For a moment Harry stared. He stared for so long that Kaylens' quirked her eyebrow in mild irritation.
Could it really be that easy?
Harry didn't need asked twice.
He walked over, sat down on the cold ground, and cast her a suspicious look.
A scathing glare was his response.
Harry hastily drug the other half of it around himself before she changed her mind. In the process his shoulder brushed against hers, Harry closing his gaze in a damn near shudder. He entirely missed that Kaylens had done the same.
The air was so cold it physically hurt, yet Kaylens' warm body nudged up against his made it impossible for him to think. At least clearly. Fuck if he cared though. He was just glad to be near her.
For two days he'd been agonizing over if he'd screwed things the hell up, beyond his ability to fix.
Given that she hadn't run away screaming, thrown anything, cussed him out, shocked him or recoiled, he reckoned he hadn't.
Then again she had crawled out a window in the middle of winter to get away from him.
Harry really needed to stop overthinking it.
The sun beat down, the cloak providing little warmth. It did nothing to stop the snow seeping up into his jeans from soaking his ass, and Harry shivered.
Kally didn't notice. Harry felt her shift alongside him, and he instinctively watched. She had reached out, her free hand absently hovering over the makeshift bonfire that was his egotistical-pigeon-prone-to-pyromania. Despite the display Harry had just witnessed, Fawkes practically preened at the attention. Kally's other hand fiddled with a pawn on the board.
She fiddled with it for so long that he actually got why Fawkes looked annoyed.
"You know you can just order the pieces to move," he offered quietly. "You don't have to move them by hand."
She didn't look at him. She just frowned artfully. "Not a witch," she said simply. "They don't listen to me." There was a strange note in her voice.
Harry just stared.
Of all the things his girlfriend couldn't do, not being able to play wizarding chess properly would never have crossed his mind.
Kalliandra could not incant. She could not fly. She could not see ghosts. She could not make wizarding games work.
The non-witch he was in love with bit down on her lower lip, almost thoughtfully. She began to move the pawn-
Fawkes trilled skeptically.
Kaylens instantly stopped what she was doing.
Harry swore to things unholy that the bird twitched its head beak back towards where she'd started, as if coaching her on where to move it.
She did exactly that.
The golden frill on the top of Fawkes' head sparked.
Kaylens' glorious eyes shot up, studying the phoenix suspiciously.
Harry was literally unable to fathom what the hell he was witnessing.
Kaylens, fortunately, explained it to him. "Your bird," she said simply, "is kicking my ass." She shot it an infinitesimal glare. "And mocking me while he's at it."
"I can see that."
Kally shot him an irritated look.
Fawkes made a sound eerily reminiscent of a snort.
Harry offered his girlfriend a tense grimace in return, a piss poor attempt at a smile, but the best he could come up with on short notice.
Kaylens sighed, returning to scrutinizing the chess board.
Harry couldn't take it.
"Are you alright?" The words were blurted unapologetically.
Kally's fingers went still on the pawn, a shadow crossing her expression. She glanced at him, the sunlight sending her irises sparkling. "Black told you." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah." His stomach churned. "Bastard might have mentioned it."
And suddenly he knew they were no longer going to talk about simple things like chess.
For a half second Kaylens' eyes held his, before she hissed a breath, tearing her eyes away. "Yeah well," she whispered non-committally, "his potions were a bitch."
Harry couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt. "I'm sorry."
Her head snapped back around. "For what?"
His jaw set. "If I'd been able to keep my hands off you, you wouldn't have had to take anything." It was his fault she'd had to take them, after all.
For a long, long moment she stared at him. Her lips parted ever-so-slightly, eyes flickering over him in seeming confusion. Finally… "Seem to recall I was a more than willing participant, Potter."
"Eventually I have to obliviate you, Kally. Given that...I shouldn't have laid a hand on you." His tone vibrated damn seriously. "I live with one inside my head, should have been able to handle a damn horcrux. It-"
Kaylens cut him off, dropping her hand away from the portable-Fawkes-furnace. "Are you really saying the only reason you-that we did that was the horcrux?"
She sounded upset.
Fuck.
Harry wet his lips, only for them to instantly chap in the cold. "I don't know."
Her eyes practically flashed. "Of course. How stupid of me to think-"
"Kal it's not like that."
"Then what is it like?"
Her words echoed on the air like a ghost from the past, the only other time she'd ever uttered those five words to him when they'd stood in the common room threshold, just after the Battle of Grimmauld, while he botched trying to ask her out.
He was awfully good at botching things with her.
They were so sodding close, their arms brushing dangerously close, yet Harry felt powerless to touch her. His numb fingers flexed, wanting to reach out, yet not.
He swallowed tightly. "I just.…I would have done it different."
Kalliandra held his gaze for a fierce moment, something he couldn't quite identify in her eyes. He knew with abject certainty that if they ever got into a real fight she'd tear him apart, Harry eager to avoid that.
She parted her lips, and Harry knew he had completely and utterly failed.
"You mean you wouldn't have snogged Hermione right after screwing me," she said flatly.
Right. They were doing this then. He'd been expecting it. Somehow he had just hoped there'd be a 'hi how are you?' thrown into the mix first.
"Yeah. That." His mouth had gone dry. "Probably wouldn't have let a horcrux goad me into having sex with you in the first place, knowing I'd have to obliviate the memory." He paused meaningfully. "You deserve better."
"No shit."
Harry flinched.
Somehow, for some inexplicable reason, Kaylens had not drawn away from him. She remained seated right beside him, there in the snow.
She was clearly throwing him a bone, giving him a chance to fix it. He'd take it. So he kept talking.
"I probably would have re-thought throwing down on your ancestor's grave too, and suggested somewhere…" he searched for a word, coming up empty, "nicer."
She was quiet a moment. "So…you're sorry." The words were flat, tone devoid of emotion. "You and I…we did this, and you're sorry."
The air had misted between them, Harry realizing only then what apologizing made it sound like.
Like he regretted the act itself.
His jaw went through several expressions, all of which could be described as variations of a grimace. "It's not what it sounded like."
A solitary golden eyebrow raised beneath her hood.
"I wanted you, Kaylens. Still do. I just…I would have waited. I would have-"
Kally sniffed, sounding eerily like Fawkes. "How about we don't insult each other and stop pretending we wouldn't have screwed each other if there hadn't been a horcrux involved? Seriously Potter, it's January. Neither of us would have lasted until April. So let's just…let's not."
Harry stared at her for a full damn minute. It was cold. The ground was cold. The air was fucking cold. But Kaylens…
She wasn't.
If anything she looked angry enough to burst into flames herself.
She was also right.
She shook her head angrily, turning to glare at something off in the distance. Either that or some rock had seriously annoyed her.
The muscle in his chest, the one beating only because of the girl besides him, thumped harder. "Alright."
Now Kally was shooting him that annoyed look. "Alright?" she repeated, incredulous. "That's it? No sweeping arguments. No sweeping declarations? Nothing even remotely self-deprecating?"
He met her gaze without apology. "Given that I've wanted to jump you since about a week after you woke up….no. Nothing to add." The corner of his mouth twitched, betraying him. "That was a very long week."
Her lips fell apart in seeming shock. And then, out of all the things she could have said, she came up with, "Why after a week?"
He shrugged, nearly dislodging the cloak they shared. "You nearly died. For the first week you looked like death." He paused. "No offense. Then I was too worried about accidentally hurting you. After that it was an exercise in sheer damn willpower." Harry tilted his head at her, quirking an eyebrow that was no doubt frozen to his face. "Why? Does that surprise you?"
The non-witch he was in love with seemed torn between snapping about his 'looking like death' comment and gaping at the rest of it.
Harry decided to spare her the trouble. He shifted on the ground, turning to face her better, taking a deep breath. "Look, Kaylens, about Hermione…"
Kally's eyes snapped shut. "Don't. Just…" She took a deep breath, then peered at him uncertainly, and suddenly Harry could see every bit of strain and upset and tension she'd until that second hidden. "Just please, Potter. Just don't."
It was like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. His jaw worked through several expressions before settling on a single word.
"Alright."
That word. Alright. It seemed trite as hell.
Amazing how he could be sitting close enough to literally touch her and yet feel like she was a kilometer away.
Again Kaylens had closed her eyes, as if by doing so she could also drown him out, pretend he wasn't there, that he wasn't talking.
Harry's throat rose and fell in a hard swallow. Hell, his Adam's apple hurt. Interesting, given that his face and neck felt completely numb.
Numb.
It was freezing out, and Kaylens wasn't a witch. Fawkes or not, the bird only provided some degree of warmth. And here Harry was sheltering under a cloak with her. She wasn't a witch, yet she'd been worried enough about his comfort levels to have offered to share.
Harry drug a hand up and through his hair, dislodging the cloak and its warmth from around his shoulders.
Kaylens opened her mouth to protest.
Harry shut it for her, reaching out and physically doing it. "Kal," he muttered, fingers lingering, "it's cold as balls out, you've been outside longer, you're pissed, yet you were worried about me, weren't you?"
His girlfriend's lips remained slightly parted, betraying his assumption. She recovered, only to sputter out, "Cold as balls?"
He gave a nonchalant smirk.
"You sound like Dean again."
His smirk disappeared and he made an immediate mental note to hex Dean the moment he was back to his own timeline. That truce of theirs had resulted in picking up some of the bastard's vocabulary. The last thing he wanted was for Kaylens to be reminded of Thomas while snogging him, which he rather hoped to be doing again. Soon if he had anything to say about it.
"Besides," she was saying, "you're the one that's not wearing a proper cloak, hat or gloves, Potter."
He seized upon the subject change. "Your point?"
Her champagne colored eyes glared at him. "That you worry about everyone else even to your own detriment?"
He rubbed his thumb against her chin. "Since when did that become a bad thing?"
To that she had no answer.
He did. Kalliandra had not made a single move to get closer to him, nor had she pulled away. So his hand slid away from the slope of her jawline, tracing against her cheekbone, her skin cool to the touch. That aberrant tingling was there, like always, it warming him against the cold in a way nothing else could. He studied her intently, malachite locked onto liquid gold, Harry watching as Kally's eyes eventually fell closed.
Careful to not dislodge her hood, his hand slid with painstaking slowness to the side of her neck.
The words came out like they always did.
"Cutis calidum."
The warming charm spilled out of his hand, a tug of power from within his veins leaving him and traveling out and into her.
Beneath his hand his girlfriend shuddered.
Harry simply smoothed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear.
A sliver of hazel appeared as she cracked her gaze, eyeing him with unveiled exasperation. But she wore a tiny smile. "Can't help but notice," she murmured, "that doesn't seem to help you."
He didn't have to ask what she meant. She meant the warming charm and the current frigid temperature.
She wasn't wrong; the air made his fingers physically hurt.
Still the line of his mouth turned, even if his smile was somewhat strained. "Sure it does. Was hoping you'd take pity on your hapless boyfriend and perhaps give him a cuddle. Share the warmth and all that."
A glint entered her eyes, Kaylens tilting her head to look slyly behind him. "Well I don't see Dean…"
He let out a growl so rabid even Fawkes looked up.
Kaylens, to her credit, simply smirked. Then she glanced down between them, telling far more quietly. "We are sort of cuddling…"
"Not enough." His response was gruff and immediate. The intensity of it he saw reflected in Kaylens' expression, and Harry dropped his hand away from her face in an instant. Something was wrong and he knew what it was, but he had no idea how to fix it.
Not to mention that she was right: he did need to help himself here.
It really was fucking cold.
Hastily Harry muttered the charm on his own clothes again, before glancing at her questioningly.
She simply frowned prettily, before picking up the side of the cloak he'd abandoned in second, silent invitation to join her beneath it.
This time when Harry ducked under he drug his arm around her waist, tugging her close. Kaylens stiffened for a moment, Harry's heart nearly dropping out.
He swallowed.
Kaylens said nothing.
His fingers flexed against her side.
Fawkes let out an impatient sound, drumming his talons against the abandoned chess board, as if to remind them both that he was still there.
Harry just blinked at the phoenix. "Is he tapping his claw at us?"
"Yes." Against his side Kaylens shrugged one shoulder, tone so impassive he shot her a concerned look.
The look just earned him another one shouldered shrug.
Usually when she did things like that her oversized clothing would slide off her shoulder, revealing her collarbone. It was always tempting as hell. Only now, wearing Ariana Dumbledore's better fitting shirt and coat….
It didn't.
Fawkes trilled in annoyance, breaking Harry's stare. He glanced at his familiar in time to see the bird reach out a claw to knock over a pawn in what he swore was the phoenix equivalent of 'screw it'.
And then the damnable bird padded off into the snow, the ice sizzling beneath his flaming claws, sending steam hissing and wafting up into the air.
Kaylens watched, her lips parted in slight bemusement. "Our bonfire just walked off."
Harry simply snorted, heart pounding in his chest. This was awkward. He hadn't spoken to her in two days and they inhabited the same small house. There was a guardedness to her eyes that had him wanting to punch things, namely himself, because it was his fault.
Fawkes was right.
Screw it.
Harry grabbed her legs, tugging them out from under her and over his own. Kaylens fixed him with a strange look, but he ignored that. Instead he just looked at her without humor, his arm sliding fully around her form, holding her tight against his side. The angle was awkward but he didn't give a niffler's ass about that right then.
Harry Potter was holding his girlfriend close. His hand flexed against her hip, his free hand rising to grab the corner of the cloak-turned-blanket, making sure it was still wrapped snugly around her.
He couldn't help but not miss the mildly exasperated look she gave him.
It was enough to rob him of literal air.
Oxygen was overrated. With a flick of his fingers fire erupted on a nearby shrub, sparking and burning. He glanced at her now very close face. "You were saying?"
Kaylens wasn't looking at him; she was looking at the flaming shrub. The snow that had been piled high on top of it was rapidly melting down. "Harry, you did magic…"
"I told you it'd come back." He glanced with narrowed eyes from the burning bush towards the direction Fawkes had stomped off to. "Shit with heat seems to be coming easier…blame the pigeon."
Against him Kalliandra nodded, though her brow had once again creased, as if thinking.
Harry was really sick of thinking about things. "I don't like this," he uttered without apology. "Sex with you was supposed to bring us closer together. Not drive a wedge. So…" his hand slid up along her side, kneading her skin as he went. "How about we just agree that neither of us are entirely happy about my behavior around horcruxes and move on?"
Her eyes shot up, startled.
Harry just heaved a breath, dropped his head over hers, and proceeded to speak against the fabric of her hood, breathing her in. "I told you before, Kaylens," he practically growled, "not screwing around with you." There was no point in not being direct with her. Life was short, especially for them.
So, not certain if he wanted the answer or not, he asked anyway. "So tell me the truth so we can get back to being normal, or our version…are you alright?"
To his surprise she answered immediately.
"No."
An iron ball formed in his throat.
"But I will be."
Pulling slightly back, looking down at the top of her head, his brow creased. She wasn't alright…
Harry let out a long breath and weighed that answer. He never had, and probably never would, understand girls. Yet this one…fuck if he didn't want to. "Bit dense," he finally muttered, "when it comes to chicks, Kaylens. Might have to translate. That mean you're still feeling sick, or not mad, or…?"
The girl in his arms didn't look at him. She didn't raise her head up. She just let out a small breath and leaned against his side.
Harry let her, heart thumping within his chest.
"Oh, I'm mad."
That iron ball in his throat dropped to his stomach.
"But…I know it wasn't your fault."
A wave struck the shoreline, sea foam spraying wetly overhead. Harry ducked his head over hers to shield her, Kaylens curling instinctively closer to him to avoid the inevitable splash.
Only it never came.
Harry cracked an eye in time to see an aberrant shimmer in the air overhead disappear.
He also, unlike Kaylens, whose head was still buried against his chest, caught sight of Dobby. The house elf held a finger to his lips, as if sharing a secret while simultaneously telling him to shush. Then, with a snap of his fingers, Dobby disappeared.
Harry didn't know if he should be glad they weren't dripping wet in sub-freezing temperatures or creeped out that Dobby was obviously following them. Either way, he owed Dobby a new tea cozy. Hell, while he was at it Harry also silently thanked Poseidon, Neptune, mermen, hinkypinks, global warming, high tides and any other mythological gods or creatures that had any part in that oversized wave.
Anything that drove Kaylens close to him was alright in his book.
Judging from the angry trill that erupted from behind an outcropping of rocks, Fawkes hadn't appreciated the near soaking quite so much. Clearly he hadn't received the 'Dobby shield treatment'.
Slowly Kally's fingers uncurled out of his shirt.
Harry's didn't. His arms tightened around her in silent gesture for her to stay put. "Well," he said, referring to the threat of their unscheduled saltwater bath, "that would have sucked."
Despite what they'd been talking about, Kaylens bit down on her lip, suppressing a tiny smile. "It was just," she said, "a little water."
"Oh yes. How silly of me to overact. You'd tell me if you'd forgotten the meaning of hypothermia, yeah?"
"Isn't that what you're for?"
"Didn't realize I was offering a heating service."
Kally sniffed in amusement, her hand sliding down the fabric of his shirt. It was doing little to keep him actually warm now that their burning Fawkes heater had wandered off. The burning shrub was poor substitute. Her touch, however, could drive him insane.
Harry looked down at the top of her head and took a deep breath to steel himself.
This…it could be unpleasant.
"I'm sorry about Hermione." Blunt. Direct. To the point. Harry purposefully ignored the incensed sound she made, clearly expressing her wish for him to just shut up. "Save it," he said. "I need to finish this." Because he needed them to be okay. Them not being okay, them not being perfect wasn't even an option.
Whatever protest she'd been about to make…she stopped, closing her lips. The sigh she let out was a little defeated. "Alright."
Holding Kaylens and chatting about unpleasant things was like dabbling with a rabid grindylow. It made his insides twist into all kinds of unpleasant contortions with just enough fear of physical maiming to make it exciting.
He tilted his head to find her eyes, then fixed her with a burning look. "I need to fix this, Kaylens. Because whenever the choice is mine it's going to be you. It's always going to be you. Reckon you should know that by now." He paused. "To be honest, kind of pissed you seem to be missing that. Thought we were more solid than that."
She was quiet for a second, Harry's hand sliding across the back of her head, down her back, petting her like a skittish animal ready to bolt. She sort of was one.
He was used to that.
What he wasn't used to was her being so quiet.
His breath misted in front of his nose. "Kaylens?"
"It's fixed, Potter."
He let out a snort so derisive it sent a strand of Kally's hair flittering.
She bit down on her lip. "Right," she said. "Of course you wouldn't believe that."
"Contrary to that moniker you so kindly dubbed me with, my IQ is North of idiot." King of Idiocy. He'd actually grown to like that, if only because it came from her.
His girlfriend remained curled against his side, oddly motionless. But she gave a miniscule nod against his shoulder, murmuring. "Alright."
It looked like she was thinking over her next words carefully. Irregardless of what they were, as long as they didn't tell him to go screw himself he could handle it. Irregardless of whether they were alright or not, at least they were talking.
"That horcrux…you said so yourself, it's the only reason you let yourself do anything with me." She paused, hesitant. "It's the only reason you snogged Hermione-"
"I would hardly call that a snog."
She shot a scathing look up at him, Harry wincing. "Right. Shutting up now."
She uncharacteristically didn't argue, her brow furrowing somewhat artfully, eyes flickering away thoughtfully. "Well what if it happens again?"
Well shit.
It wasn't that he'd touched Hermione.
It was her being afraid he might do it again.
Suddenly her earlier line of questioning and upset made a hell of a lot of sense.
Kaylens still thought the only reason he'd laid a hand on her, loved her the way he had – fucked up as it had been – was because of the horcrux. Which meant there was a chance he'd fucking cheat on her again because of another horcrux.
He really hated those things. He dryly wondered if that made him a self-hating wizard.
Didn't matter.
"Could have sworn," he said seriously, "we already established that I've wanted to jump you for months." That said, giving it a terse second to sink in, his hands continued their calming movements upon her. "Ergo, not being able to resist you. But I resisted her. And I somehow doubt we're going to run into another horcrux with that type of emotion in it again. Voldemort was a psychopathic bastard but never struck me as a sexual deviant. Need further proof, you can ask Hermione. She got that fun courtesy of hearing it too." Deep in his brain something that sounded suspiciously like Ron yelled at him to retreat, because mentioning Hermione right then probably wasn't the smartest thing.
Harry stifled that voice and ignored it.
"The second I even started to kiss her, Kal, I fucking stopped." The rubbing movements of his hands upon her stilled, fingers flexing strongly against her. "Because she wasn't you. So call me dumb, but if I could stop that under possession of a damn horcrux, reckon I could have stopped it with you if I'd actually wanted to." He paused. "And believe me, I really didn't want to."
That was the truth of it.
Harry was left with nothing to do but wait.
And for awhile Kaylens did nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
And then, slowly, painfully slowly, Kaylens shifted against him, snaking her arms around his torso. That leaden ball pinged suddenly up to his chest, ricocheting between his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Kally's head just shifted, nestling against the crook of his shoulder and chest. He could hear her breathing, hear the waves crashing behind them, hear the stirring of the animated chess pieces getting irritated at the abandoned game.
Kally seemed comfortable, and Harry was almost afraid to breathe, even if his insides were at literal war.
She shook her head against his chest. "We don't need unnecessary drama, Potter."
Despite everything a humorless chuckle escaped him. "You mean the constant threat of looming death, a dark overlord persistently trying to put your boyfriend's head on a pike, dark objects screwing with our minds, hiding you from the government lest they set their hounds on you, time travelling, random family that are occasionally human and sometimes part pup showing up, and the aforementioned boyfriend having a saving people thing is actually enough drama for you? You couldn't possibly." His deadpan was downright scandalized. "Hell Kaylens, your tolerance used to be higher."
She peered up at him. "You forgot the plague sweeping the world and quite possibly rendering the human race extinct."
He gazed at her right back, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, fingers kneading her skin through her cloak. "What's the matter, Kaylens? Not enjoying your zombie apocalypse experience?" He waited just a tic. "Have it on good word from Fred you took a certain amount of suicidal glee in taunting those things."
"Fred's one to talk. He dressed Avery in drag. He's the insane one."
The look Harry shot her spoke volumes.
Kaylens' hand gave him a half-hearted thump on his chest. Harry chuckled, the sound oddly mirthless.
The dead shrub he'd set on fire gave an audible crackle. It threw off heat, but not nearly enough. It was cold. Brutally. Fucking. Cold. But what was worse than the cold was he still didn't know where he stood with her.
"Why'd you ask Black to not let me see you, Kaylens?"
Kaylens went suddenly, impossibly still against his side, and Harry…
Harry quietly waited.
It took him a full minute to realize that she'd begun to shiver, Harry's hold winding tighter around her in a piss poor attempt to warm her with his own body heat. He bowed his head over hers, closing his eyes, another warming charm muttered and pouring out of his hands and into her, penetrating her clothing.
And still she shivered.
"Kaylens, maybe we should head bac-"
"I didn't want you to break up with me," she whispered. Her face burrowed against his chest, leaving Harry stunned. Slowly, very slowly he pulled his head up from over hers, only able to stare down at her in abject shock.
She offered nothing else; she just shivered in his arms.
Harry opened his mouth, but it took several tries to get his throat to work.
Unfortunately when it did his tone made it sound like he was talking to a mental patient. "Why in the hell would I break up with you?"
She didn't answer.
Harry stared. "Kaylens."
Again, she didn't answer. He could, however, feel her shivering growing more pronounced. That made sense; it was cold as fuck out. Thing was he'd already done another warming charm on her.
He was no longer convinced she was shivering from the cold.
"Kaylens."
Still nothing.
Harry hissed in exasperation, shifting and gently claiming her chin, forcing her face up to look at him. Finally catching her gaze, he was left with nothing else to do but raise his eyebrows in silent question.
She looked like she would rather like to run.
To say he was caught off guard was an understatement. Kaylens was fiery, feisty. She didn't back down. She was not someone he'd ever win an argument with. Short of a horcrux messing with her mind she did not get insecure. Yet here she was, quiet and telling him she'd been afraid he'd leave her after he'd been the one to screw things up?
Naturally he had literally no idea how to handle this. Really, someone ought to write a handbook. He'd have to owl Fred and George.
"Kally please…"
It was like a switch had been flipped.
With a hiss she abruptly tried to tug away.
Harry had enough sense to tighten his hold and prevent that. She struggled for a second, but Harry's grip tensed, holding onto her like she were the struggling snitch in the House Cup. Kaylens made a frustrated, angered sound, smacking at him, and this time it wasn't playful, but he just caught her hand, twisting her firmly around in the snow, tugging her back flat to his chest as he heaved hard breaths.
It was several minutes before she stopped trying to break away, Harry finally feeling at ease enough to snap, "Kaylens what the hell?"
In the struggle the cloak they'd been using as a blanket had been dislodged, and the cloak Kaylens had been wearing had half fallen off her head. It was too cold for this shit.
"Kaylens…it'd be really nice if you'd give my dense ass some clarification here. Particularly given I thought I was supposed to be sucking up to you."
The non-witch in his arms made an indecipherable, small sound that he couldn't quite make out.
Harry didn't want to repeat himself again. He was rapidly developing a headache as it was.
He did anyway.
"Let's pretend I got nailed with one of McGonagall's blasting hexes and lack hearing for the next three days," he suggested, purposefully trying to snare Kaylens' hand in his. She tried to yank hers away, Harry ignoring her attempt and eventually winning after a short scuffle. "Seriously. I'm downright deaf right now. Practically-"
"You're an asshole, Potter."
He paused, this time choosing his words very, very carefully. "Hardly shocking, luv. Not sure what that has to do with-"
"I'm not a witch."
Harry waited, expecting more, yet receiving nothing. Kaylens hair was in his face, her back tight to his chest as he breathed tensely. Around them snow was scattered from their struggle. If a Muggle policeman wandered by he'd surely arrest him on the spot for assaulting a girl.
"Okay…" he purposefully drew the word out.
Kaylens huffed a breath, sending her long bangs flying away from her eyes. "I'm not a witch, Potter. Hermione is. Luna is. Ginny is. Everyone else is."
"And the winner for stating the obvious goes to…"
His girlfriend made a growling sound. Harry simply waited, intuiting that if he remained silent that she'd keep talking.
He was right.
In the interim he had entertained himself by taking the hand he'd captured and working to firmly lace his fingers between hers. Given her attempts to shift away from him, that alone was a task. He still managed it.
Kally let out a resigned sigh. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"Not in the least," he assured her.
With a hiss she stopped squirming and dropped the back of her head against his chest, the fight draining out of her.
Harry heaved a relieved sigh of his own. "Finally…"
It took Kaylens another minute or so before she deigned to explain further. "You're better suited for someone, anyone else, Potter."
"Like hell I am."
She made a frustrated sound. "I'm not a witch, Potter. I'm a mutation that has an irritating tendency of dying before hitting the elusive twenty years of age mark. While all of you witches and wizards live into your hundreds." She paused. "Assuming there isn't some psychotic with a wand after you."
He snorted. "Hypothetically of course."
He could practically feel her eye roll. "So I'm not a witch-"
"Think we've established that."
"And I'm not going to live as long as the rest of you."
A low growl filled his chest. "We'll see about that."
"And I can't do magic."
"Thank fucking Merlin. You're scary enough with the shit you do as it is."
"That psychotic that wants you dead got obsessed with and killed someone who looks like me."
"Well at least we know he has good taste."
Kally's words came out in a rush. "So I'm ill-suited for you-"
"You're not."
"-and maybe you liked kissing someone else who was better-"
"I didn't."
"-and this isn't a fling anymore Potter. You told me you want sodding kids."
At that Harry froze. Any and all amusement evaporated.
"And I can't."
His hands on her had gone unbelievably tense. Harry didn't know what she meant. Kids or the fling. His insides clenched up in a wholly unpleasant way.
His mouth went oddly dry. "You-you thought this was a fling?"
For an instant she looked bewildered. "What? No. I just-"
"You just said it Kaylens." He half growled this.
She flinched and he hated himself just a little, but he didn't take it back.
"Everything's just gotten a lot more real, Potter."
Harry stared down at her. "Real?" he repeated, dumbfounded. "As opposed to the pretending we were doing before?" He couldn't help the bitterness in his voice. He was hurt. "So good to know you've been as invested as I've been."
"I am." She sounded like she wanted to cry.
He just grunted, "Then by all means, elaborate. You can't what?" She could probably feel his heart pounding painfully through his chest, given she was laying against it, her back pulled flush to him. "Can't have a fling? Because really Kaylens, if you're trying to dump me just say so."
Kaylens made an upset sound, but her words were eerily calm. "No. You said you wanted kids, Potter. I can't."
An irrational part of him still surged with upset and anger at her having called everything they'd been through a fling, even for a second. A far more rational, reasonable part of him – one that sounded oddly like Luna – reminded him that he'd been a bit of an ass recently and she was upset so probably not choosing her words correctly.
So Harry swallowed it all down and wound his arm tighter around Kaylens' body, sealing her back solidly to him as he tried to think.
"What do you mean," he finally asked, "you can't?"
"I mean I shouldn't. And if that's important to you…"
When they'd talked in the crypt she'd been coldly rational, pointing out she'd be scared of passing on her mutation, a fatal one.
Now she just seemed upset.
Right then Harry was half tempted to take the fucking timeturner, use it to get back to the cemetery to hex himself silent, before using a sledgehammer to break it. He wished he had never said anything if this was her reaction.
He'd told her they'd deal with it, handle it when they had to. He'd meant that; still did. He just didn't know what to say to that. The fact that she'd even been thinking about it-
"And when we got back and Regulus had to check me. Then all but threw that potion at me…"
Once again Kaylens trailed off.
It took him a second.
It took him a very long second.
In fact, it took him several.
An exasperated voice in his head, one that sounded suspiciously like Hermione this time, called him an idiot.
Then it all clicked into place. The pieces fell like dominos. Suddenly it all made sense.
Harry felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.
Fuck.
"Black thought you could be pregnant." Never before had his voice been so controlled. "But you weren't." About a year ago there'd been an incredibly traumatizing hour when Madame Pomfrey had talked to all the fifth years about dating and consequences, telling them how wizarding magic had an advantage over Muggles: it could detect things immediately, so you could wind up with responsibility immediately after one hell of a good night.
Harry remembered because he'd joined Ron in glaring daggers at Seamus, Ginny's honor the one they had been questioning. But with Kaylens…
In the crypt Harry hadn't even thought about that.
His mouth went dry. "You weren't, right?" There was a semi-desperate fear in his words.
Kaylens quietly shook her head, confirming that.
Relief flooded him, it quickly replaced with something else. "But it scared you," he said flatly. "You got scared about the what-fucking-if because I was an idiot and didn't think about using protection with you."
Kaylens was looking down at her lap, voice impossibly quiet. "You weren't alone in not considering that, Potter."
He ignored that. "And then you sat there for two days ruminating on what would have happened if you had been."
Against his chest he felt her infinitesimal nod. "Pretty much."
"And then the potion made you sick on top of it."
Her silence was telling.
"And since you're scared of kids to begin with, you were scared how I'd react if you told me how scared you were of the bloody possibility."
She made an oddly small sound that was incredibly unlike her.
Harry really needed Ron right then; he could count on him to deliver a justifiable decking. The supernatural strength part would just be a well-deserved bonus.
His girlfriend had felt used by him, had her privacy violated by Black, been scared on multiple levels, and gotten ill. Then she'd sat there alone in a room for forty eight hours without him, worried what he'd think of her for being scared. He hadn't even tried to see her. He'd just accepted that she was pissed and needed space.
Clearly she had wanted anything but.
He thought about bashing his head against the nearest rock. "Fuck, I am an asshole."
At that Kaylens shot him a look.
He met it unapologetically. "No. Right now you don't get to argue with that."
She looked away, growing quiet. Harry also went quiet. The only thing grounding him right then was the feel of Kaylens' fingers between his. She'd at least stopped trying to pull them away. That was good, considering he needed the contact probably as much as she did.
He was still trying to wrap his head around it. Kally wasn't scared of anything. How fucking messed up was it that this was what did it?
He let out a derisive breath. "And here I thought I was being respectful giving you space after everything."
Quietly she shook her head.
"I was worried," he confessed, "about you dumping me."
His girlfriend didn't have to ask why he'd been scared about that. He'd been rough with her, desecrated more than one grave with her, tried to suffocate her. Then he'd kissed Hermione. A sliver of fear drove straight through his chest.
"You thought about it," he croaked, afraid of her answer, "didn't you?"
To his great surprise she shook her head no. "Potter…" she sounded genuinely confused, "I already told you, I know that wasn't you."
He stared at the side of her face, the bright sunlight warming her pale skin. Amazing, how when he'd first met her she'd seemed tan. His mouth went dry. "How?" he croaked. "How could you possibly know that?"
Even at the angle she was at, her back pulled tight to his chest, he saw the conflicted shadow enter her gaze. "I've seen what having him in your mind can do to you before, Potter. Or did you forget that whole 'forced legilimency' stunt?"
It took him a second to remember what the hell she was talking about.
And then he did.
Outside the Gryffindor common room, when Kaylens had been dragging him to the hospital wing, back when they'd still hated one another and Voldemort had gotten into his head. He'd slammed her against the wall, hurting her, before shamelessly violating her mind.
He'd seen how her brother had died, how her arm had gotten hurt. A knife in a Death Eater's hand had plunged deep, cutting the nerves.
Unconsciously his eyes flickered down to her left shoulder, words out of place, unbidden. "Your arm doesn't shake anymore."
She released a bitter breath. "Fringe perks of inter-species blood mixing, Potter."
Without thinking his hand rose, sliding up along her left arm, touch gentle. His other arm wound tighter around her waist, sealing her to him, ensuring she didn't again try to run. The fire continued to crackle gently, Kaylens shivering against him.
It really was cold.
Harry didn't care.
Kaylens could have died then. She could have died when the Death Eaters had come back for her years later and killed her family. She could have died when Lupin had transformed, attacking them both at Grimmauld, or when Death Eaters had attacked Hogsmeade. She could have died when that crushing hex had hit her, robbing the breath from her as it had taken hold. Werewolves could have torn her apart, that flaming tree branch that had fallen could have crushed her, or she could have drowned in that pond when they had been deep within the Forbidden Forest.
She could have overdrawn. She could have been killed in the Battle of Grimmauld, from a stray hex or flying debris or from that fire engine that had been launched end over end through the air over she and Dumbledore and Black. She could have died in the potion's accident that had fractured Snape's skull back when she, Black and Snape had first begun trying various combinations in desperate hail mary attempts to make a cure for the plague. She could have been ripped limb from limb by zombies in Dublin, been crushed and burned in the train wreck that had disabled Amarante, or succumbed from the plague after surviving all of that.
She could have drowned trying to get to that damnable island. She could have died on the island. She could have been eaten by a shark. She could have overdrawn again while trying to heal him, to bring him back to life. And when he'd gone back in time that killing curse could have actually hit her in the Forbidden Forest. She could have bled out there in that clearing, or died later on from the injuries sustained when she had killed the horcux they'd torn literally out of Bellatrix Lestrange's severed hand.
There were too many ways to even count.
"I could have lost you," he said, with so much emotion his voice appeared to have none, "so many times."
"But you didn't."
The sea crashed behind them, Harry abruptly dragging her up against his chest, dropping his face into her thick mass of hair. He breathed her in for a long damn second.
Kaylens was right. They'd been through too much for unnecessary fucking drama.
Kaylens seemed to breathe easier, his non-witch seeming to hesitate, before her hand rose to slide over his forearm. She didn't try to pry it away; her fingers clutched on tight.
Then Harry felt her finally relax, even if her form still trembled with the cold.
With a shaken oath he muttered another warming charm, Kaylens shivering against him and letting out a far better sound. It was all he could do to repress a groan, twisting his head to speak directly against her cheek, her cold skin doing things to him even then. "Tell me," he muttered. "Tell me everything scaring you." Wetting his lips, pressing them to her cheek, he pled, "Please." Because this…
This wasn't going to work if they weren't honest with one another.
This wasn't his Kaylens. Not yet. She was close. So close. But this Kaylens hadn't been through what his had with him.
No.
This Kaylens and him….
They'd been through something entirely different.
To Harry's surprise she didn't dodge. She didn't deflect. She just answered.
She turned her face, her nose bumping against the side of his, faces close as they spoke at that awkward angle, with him holding her and her twisting around to talk to him.
She wet her lips. "Would you have done those things with me," she whispered, "said those things you did if it hadn't been for the horcrux?"
A low growl escaped him. "You know I would have."
A breath ghosted against the stubble of his chin, Kaylens' eyes closing, face nodding. "I just…I can't get it out of my head, Harry." She paused. "It just kept pointing out that I wasn't right for you. I won't live as long as you. I can't do magic like you. You want things I can't give you. That you'd be better off with someone magic. And…" she was shaking her head against him. "What if it was right?"
Inside him something dark and primitive and wrong rose up. "No," he said firmly, "it's not."
And just like that, her lips so very close to his, she jerked her face away.
Harry sucked in a breath as if he'd been slapped, but he did not move. He just watched as she glared off at the cold landscape, the shafts of sunlight making everything seem all the more icy.
This time when she spoke she sounded almost angry.
"Everyone keeps talks about death and the fear of the next attack with this stupid war, but none of us talk about other things," she muttered. Despite the quality of her words her gloved fingers slid over his arm. "Like a dark object goading you into unprotected sex or your boyfriend getting mind raped into making out with someone else. Or-"
Of all the things to seize onto he seized onto that. "You still think I was making out with her?"
"Weren't you?"
His brow creased so heavily there were bound to be lines. "No. No Kal." He shook his head so hard his vertebrate cracked. "I already told you what I did. And it took me all of a split second even under that thing's influence to stop, because she wasn't you." He quirked a brow. "Shouldn't that tell you everything you need to know about how much you're under my skin?"
"Things like that can change."
He glared openly. "Not this."
She bit down on her lower lip, hesitant.
He could have cursed. "Kaylens I'm an asshole. So the next time, and believe me there will be a next time, you're upset come and fucking get me. You didn't feel well because of something we did together. You shouldn't have to be scared because of me. I would have stayed with you. I wouldn't have left. And I don't," he reiterated, "want someone magic. Rather prefer an irritating annoyance with a penchance for pissing me off."
He caught the faintest hint of a smile.
"I know," she aceded. "I just…that thing was terrible, Potter. And I needed to think…"
She needed to think.
He hated this. This going round and round over the same damn things. This wasn't like her, and he mentally cursed Voldemort and decided the bastard would have to suffer just a bit extra for having done this to her.
Riddle would have to suffer because Kaylens thinking about all of this wasn't good. In fact, it scared the hell out of him. "Kaylens," he muttered, "I don't want to lose you." His voice was hoarse, strained, laying bare his damn fear.
She twisted her head back to look at him, confusion clouding her gaze. "You're not."
It didn't stop him from grimacing. "You sure about that?"
Her eyes practically flashed. "I'm upset, Potter. Not shifting our entire paradigm."
He raised one eyebrow in pointed question.
A wane, disbelieving smile touched her lips. "All that time around Hermione, Potter, and you're going to tell me you don't know what paradigm means?"
"You act," he muttered, finding her hand once more and lacing their fingers firmly together, "like this is a surprise. You know I rarely listen to Hermione."
She simply snorted, but something uncertain was betrayed on her face.
Harry wanted to remove that uncertainty, by any means possible.
So he did.
He dropped his face back against hers, speaking against the side of her mouth with a low growl. "I'm going to marry you, Kaylens. Ever feel insecure again, remember that."
The January wind gave a frigid gust, scattering snow around them, but Harry didn't notice.
Harry kissed her.
He kissed her slowly. There was no rush. At some point he'd loosened his arms from around her, the muscle in his chest pounding, thundering, beating loud in his ears as Kaylens shifted, twisting around in his lap to face him.
He wasn't sure how she'd wound up straddling him, but the particulars weren't important.
What was important was what she said.
"Harry," she murmured against his lips, Harry muttering in protest at her stopping, "how can you," lower lip claimed, "be so," biting her upper lip, "calm about all of this?
Harry slowed, hands sliding slowly up her back, fingers digging into her shoulder blades as he began the painstaking process of catching his breath. "Thought of a future with you?" he muttered truthfully, not pulling away. "Fuck Kaylens...makes it easy."
Two hands slid to his shoulders, Kaylens pulling back ever-so-slightly to look at him. She shook her head in a stunned sort of astonishment. "But….you don't know what's going to happen."
Harry looked at her. Just looked. Then he pulled her hood up carefully, bringing it back up over her head, it having been dislodged by what they'd been doing to one another. "Sure I do," he said, far too relaxed, as if speaking about a boring term paper. "We complete our vandalizing tour of the dark tosser's toys, kill our boy Riddle, I marry you, we get sickeningly domesticated, find a way to not worry about passing on your mutation, have a ridiculous number of kids once we're ready," he emphasized that, "and put the Weasleys to shame."
Hazel eyes studied him in quiet startlement, the flecks of green and brown pronounced in the sunlight.
It wasn't what he'd intended to say. Harry still wasn't convinced he'd live long enough to do any of that. He wasn't convinced she would live long enough to do any of that. Chances were they would both die far too young.
Despite that his mouth curved into a lazy smirk. "Dibs," he added, "on Hermione and Ron as godparents." Like hell was he letting her pick Dean.
Seeing her lips part to protest, he stopped her, already knowing what part she was taking issue with. "In all that worrying you've done, Kaylens, ever stop to think that you're the protégé of Black and Snape? Muggles have that whole gene screening thing. Much as I hate to admit they might be competent at something, reckon Black and Snape could figure out how to do something similar for you."
Judging from the look on her face, she hadn't thought of that.
It was all he could do to repress a semi-triumphant smirk.
Her lips parted, then closed. Kaylens sat on him, looking like she wanted to say something, but resisting.
Harry shot her an annoyed look all of his own. "Out with it."
Her eyes narrowed, marginally, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "You can't really think Black and Snape would do anything to help you breed, Potter."
His mouth fell open, a sputter coming out.
Sitting on his lap, there in the cold and snow, Kaylens quietly laughed.
This time he managed a growl. "You're going to pay for that."
A cold breeze swept past, sending a strand of her hair escaping the confines of her cloak's hood, the golden strand blowing carelessly in the wind.
It suited her.
Harry simply studied her. He knew every soft angle of her face, the curve of her nose and the slope of her jaw. The glint of her irises and sheen of her hair matched in coloration so perfectly it was like someone had painted her with the same damn brush stroke.
He'd never grasp how Ron and others in the dorm had thought she was plain.
For the fourth time since setting foot outside Harry apologized. "I'm sorry, Kally." He held her gaze, both his hands sliding down the contours of her form, settling on her hips. The cloak they'd been using as a blanket lay in a tangled heap around them. "But hell…now that that's out of the way and you know I'm not going to run because you're scared of things…are we alright?"
Her teeth clamped down harder onto her lower lip, it doing little to repress her amused look. "You are," she assured him, "an idiot."
"Fair enough." His hands flexed on her hips. "So, what do you reckon? Assuming we actually survive all this, we've already gotten all those terribly serious talks out of the way. Reckon our lives ought to be pretty stream lined given we've already got them half planned."
"You forgot," she pointed out, "what kind of house we want to live in, and whether or not we're getting a dog."
He snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, of course we're getting a dog. I need something to sick on Thomas when he visits."
Her lips parted, aghast.
Harry ignored this, pressing, "What are your thoughts on being recluses in a cabin somewhere? Really, ought to keep any zombies, fan girls, and reporters away. Can't have you killing any of them just because they irritated you, after all."
She drummed her fingers against his thigh in silent annoyance.
"Ah, so you agree," he supplied for her. "So…the only decision we have to make for the rest of our lives is whether we want to be buried or cremated. But given the zombie shit going on, leaning towards that whole wizarding cremation thing. Seems a bit safer. Would really hate to have to deal with your ire in the afterlife all because I'd come back and tried to eat your brains."
At this she shot him a mild glare.
"We also," he continued, "might want a house elf. Paid of course, or Hermione would skin us."
This time Kaylens shot him a questioning look.
"You have a tendency," he started, aware that he might need cremated earlier than anticipated, "to throw things everywhere."
She smacked his chest, opening her mouth to protest-
He caught her hands. "Never said I minded. Creepily you always seem to know where everything's at."
Now she just looked exasperated.
"So, we're killing Riddle, finding a remote village, getting a dog, employing a house elf, getting sickeningly domesticated, and cremating each other."
With preternatural quiet she nodded, that same tempting smile teasing her lips.
"We really ought," he continued, "to publish a book. Streamlined decision making for the modern couple. Really, it'll send Hermione and Ron into positive fits."
Silently Kaylens quirked an eyebrow, tilting her head questioningly.
"Because," he explained, "we're going to use them as a piss poor example of communication."
Kaylens lips parted in an understanding 'oh.'
Harry smirked. "What? They didn't want to get called out, Ron shouldn't have taken nearly six years to ask her out."
His girlfriend's eyes widened, breaking her silence in mild shock. "Wait…in your timeline he actually did?"
"You should have seen it." Thinking about it, he hastened, "Actually you will see it. It's quite pathetic, actually. Starts off strong and then rapidly spirals into word tripping and stammering. You and Thomas are the ones that actually plan what they're doing and say yes for her."
Kally's mittened hands slid up to his chest, almost every centimeter of his skin frozen and numb. Oddly his nerves managed to conveniently work wherever she touched him. "Well that sounds…"
"Pitiful? Sad? Train wreck-like?"
She shook her head slowly, looking bemused. "Says the wizard who just dug his way out of a hole."
He scoffed. "I at least admit to being an ass."
Kaylens gave him a playful smack.
And just like that everything was alright again.
Harry was pretty certain that anyone else would have dumped him, but not Kaylens. Kaylens was his. She wasn't like everyone else. She might have gotten insecure, but she bloody well grasped what had happened.
It was why he was in love with her.
Another wave crashed against the beach, another gust misting past and carrying a salty scent on it, freezing him. It was cold as balls out, and Harry didn't ask for permission this time.
He just grabbed her, ignoring her startled squeak, gathering her into his arms and tugging her up with him.
Then he drug her back towards Dumbledore's cottage, abandoned chess board left to the elements, or at least Fawkes.
It was awhile before the phoenix returned, and when he did the bird fixed the abandoned chess pieces with a malevolent look, before grabbing them one by one and disappearing with them, and eventually the board.
The familiar couldn't help but think it was going to be a long few months.
ECOTS
February 18th, 1997 ~ 2:00 p.m.
The next month and a half passed in no time.
"Merlin's beard," Regulus drawled, "one would think one as prone to murder attempts as him would have, at some point, learned how to dodge."
Kally sat in the window seat, legs curled beneath her, and shot Black a withering look. "You're the one who insisted on animating three of them." Pausing, she enunciated, "Three," just in case he'd forgotten how to count. Three against one wasn't exactly fair.
"Ah yes, because the Dark Lord's followers have been known for fighting in single-file lines with even odds. How could I have forgotten? Then again, I did miss that first day of Muggle-killing training camp. The Dark Lord must have covered it then," the ex-Death Eater deadpanned, taking a disinterested sip of his beverage.
Kally growled in annoyance, before turning back towards the large glass pane currently revealing the ass-kicking her boyfriend was receiving. Clutching a hot cup of cocoa between her hands, she watched as Harry – out on the snow-covered beach – got battered with a particularly large wave, slipping on ice, right before an animated and disturbingly humanoid pile of rocks slammed its arm into him.
Harry went flying back into the churning sea, landing with a chilling splash before the waves picked him up and threw what was left of him at the rocky beach, a trail of blood oozing in the mud. Sea foam flew, freezing on the frigid air as it fell back to the sand like snow, speckling the ground around Harry's twitching form. He lay face down, one arm looking like he was trying to lift himself back up, but too cold to succeed.
Kally's chest twisted, her fingers so tight around the ceramic mug that it was a marvel she didn't break it. "Black…" she hissed, starting to move.
A staying, firm hand dropped onto her shoulder, squeezing almost painfully. "Be a good girl," he placated as if she were a small dog, "and stay. Unless of course you'd like me to get the shock collar?"
He didn't even look at her to see the infuriated glare trained his way. He was too busy looking out the window at his pet project.
Regulus had conjured humanoid fighters for them to train against. They'd been made out of the smaller boulders farther down the beach, stood approximately two meters tall, and right now two stalked towards where Harry lay like a drowned fish on the beach, twitching as if recently hooked on some Muggle fishing line while the winter waters of the North Sea battered against him.
The stone men swung their arms like lethal clubs.
And Harry didn't move.
Kally's pulse sped.
Black tisked. "Should've went with a red wine for this."
She hissed.
"At least," Regulus posed, "it would have matched the spectacle."
The club wielding stone man got closer.
Kally made an upset, angered sound and made a swift move to get to her feet-
Black's hand tightened ruthlessly on her shoulder, digging into her once damaged nerve and eliciting a cry of pain. Just because it had healed didn't mean it didn't still hurt. "Cease working yourself up, girl. You'll spill your chocolate."
She made a sputtering, harpy-esque sound at the man and contemplated upending her hot chocolate over his head.
And that was when a club-like arm swung directly down at Harry's.
Kally shouted warning.
She didn't recall what happened next, but she woke up on the window seat, slumped half against the window, Black making a tisking sound and putting his wand away. "I saved," he said with clear derision, "your cocoa. Had I known you would get so worked up from mere spectating I would have added a little something to it for your nerves. Though even I have to admit that the Irish in my Irish libation is a bit lacking." He cast a disappointed look down at his mug.
She blinked groggily. "Did you-did you hex me?"
"You were being unreasonably shrill."
Her eyes went wide as she remembered why. "He better be alright." She spun towards the glass to check-
"Really Kalliandra," Regulus drawled, sounding bored, "that wizard of yours is the homo sapien equivalent of a cockroach. I hardly think a brutal battering from an enchanted pile of rocks is capable of killing him." He took a long sip from his own mug, and let out a dissatisfied sigh. "A pity. If he'd just go ahead and become a pulpy smear it'd save me the trouble of scraping the maladroit off the rocks after his repeated failures."
Kally was staring out the window, raking a hand through her hair. Harry was clearly alive, given he had rolled over onto his back, coughing heavily. The club had stopped inches from the top of his skull. But he was alright. Her heart rate started to calm down, beginning to approximate something closer to normal.
Black merely rolled his eyes, rooting around in his cloak and unearthing a silver flask. He then proceeded to unscrew the cap, pouring some of it into the ceramic mug she'd been drinking out of. "Drink and calm down, or be hexed," he ordered. "This booze was expensive. Now if you'd excuse me, I have to ascertain if our savior-troglodyte out there is capable of anything beyond Neanderthal-esque grunts or if he's magically evolved to a higher order of reasoning over the past twenty minutes."
With that the man rose in a fluid movement, robes swirling around him as he stalked across the room and right out the door.
Two seconds later Kally caught sight of him through the window. He was storming towards Potter's still downed form.
Right. Those two's relationship could be described as antagonistic at the best of times. But right now she wouldn't put outright murder attempts past either of them. Shaking herself she hastily stood.
She also caught sight of her cocoa, hesitating…
Thirty seconds later she was out on the beach, mug in hand, just in time to hear Regulus start.
"That was pathetic, Potter."
Harry lay sprawled out on the uncomfortable looking rocks, looking rather like a drowned rat, yet managed to lift a single finger in obvious greeting.
Casper ignored him. "I haven't seen such a massive fuckery since I walked in on those Auror and wolf friends of yours when the inebriates thought they had my home kitchen to themselves."
Kally's froze at the horrible visual and tried not to gag. "Merlin no…"
Potter just snorted, the effect ruined by a groan of pain. "What's the matter Black?" he choked. "Worried they sullied the fine china?"
So that was what it took for Potter to not be traumatized by Tonks and Remus and their complete and utter lack of self-control: taunting Regulus with it.
Kally murmured something soothing to herself.
Black just curled back a lip and snarled. "If I wanted to walk in on nightmare inducing affronts to nature I simply would have invited you to stay with me."
"Hell Black, isn't that what you already did?" Harry shoved himself up on his elbows and let out a groan. "Not like were roomies or anything but hell, same house. Close enough."
Kally closed her eyes and took a long, long sip from her mug. The spiked cocoa slid down her throat, the whiskey strong enough to actually burn her tongue.
It was also strong enough to elicit a cough.
Both Potter and Black cast her identical looks.
Her lips lingered over the hot chocolate. "Strong cocoa."
Harry eyed her suspiciously, then gingerly slumped against a sharp looking rock, sweat and blood tricking down his forehead. "Uh huh."
Kally met his eyes and shrugged.
Black simply rolled his eyes, attention whipping back to Potter. "You cannot expect to count on brute force alone forever, Potter. As you've so recently experienced, yet seem to have already forgot in that rodentia-sized brain of yours, access to magic is not guaranteed." With a somewhat irritated flick of his wand, it looking like Regulus was outright trying to smack the air, he droned, "Now do it again. This time without blasting hexes."
Harry shot him a fuck off look if Kally had ever seen one.
"That face come with an off switch, Potter, or is it simply your cro-Magnon genes expressing themselves a bit late?" Black sneered.
"At least," Potter groaned, "I'm not some inbred Pureblood."
"Oh good," she said to herself. "You're both still talking."
"I'm talking," Black corrected. "Whether or not Potter is capable of understanding basic vocabulary is still under question."
The rest of the conversation didn't go much better, ending in Black sicking the stone men on Harry. Harry hastily tried transfiguring a bunch of birds to attack the things, presumably to distract them, but his transfiguration skills sucked.
It failed spectacularly.
The spectacular part was the sheer height Potter reached when the one bitch slapped him back into the North Sea's shallow surf.
A few minutes later found Kally tossing a cloak around Harry's shivering shoulder, her boyfriend looking rather gray with the cold. He was also shaking violently as Black continued his lecture.
"You are always fighting," Black said, sounding bored. "It's sickeningly Gryffindor. If you want to win when the odds are stacked against you, you'll have to learn how to cheat." The potion's master glanced from the stone men to Harry and back again. "Regrettably I am afraid the subtle art of subterfuge may be lost upon one as prone to barging in and exploding things as you, but really, if you desire to actually take down the Dark Lord once and for all I recommend giving its study some consideration."
Judging from the way Harry was bristling she quickly shoved her steaming mug of cocoa at him. Potter snagged it, more out of self-preservation so his face would not get scalded. "What in the hell is that even supposed to mean?" he grumbled.
"It means you're outclassed here, Potter. You cannot take animated stone by brute force. So unless you're eager to die again I would highly suggest you learn how to read a situation and figure out alternatives to rushing in." Regulus gave a pregnant pause. "Unless of course you think the Dark Lord is going to play fairly?"
Harry grumbled something under his breath and took a sip of her drink.
He instantly made a face, his head jerking towards her. "Did you put booze in this?"
Kally gave a small smile as if to say your point?
Her boyfriend just heaved a deep sigh. "Glad someone's enjoying this."
Her lips twitched. "My boyfriend's fighting in a thin and conveniently soaked shirt, and he happens to be rather…fit." Her eyes flickered down his chest for a second, his shirt clinging to him in a way that left nothing to the imagination. "What's not to like?"
Harry balked at her, and Kally smirked, reaching out and snagging her mug of cocoa back. Black had been right. It was better watching this with booze.
Harry just shook his head at her, his dark hair slung wetly across his forehead. "You know…if I'm stuck in a wet shirt it's only fair…" His eyes flickered from her to the rolling ocean.
Her eyes narrowed over the mug. "Try it and die."
He was still eyeing her with that same look. How he managed that when looking as gray as he did she didn't know. "It might," he said, "be worth it."
"I will literally," she made sure to carefully enunciate the words, "kill you."
Potter smirked somewhat predatorily, the effect ruined by his chattering teeth. Apparently even warming charms had limits.
"I am jealous," Black stated, as if comforting himself, "of wizards who don't know either of you."
Kally took a small sip of her hot chocolate, simpering over the rim, "Course you are, Casper." She sounded anything but commiseratory.
Harry snorted.
Black's wand flicked out and sent the stone men moving once more. "Again, Potter. And we are going to continue this exercise until you've channeled some vestige of a duplicitous nature and figured it out."
Kally lowered the mug and shot Potter a sympathetic look.
The hulking stone men swiveled their heads in her and Potter's directions. The things had been made of a combination of bowling ball sized rocks and smaller ones, the smallest the size of beach pebbles. They'd been stacked, complete with joints, to resemble half-giants, and they had started stalking their way.
Harry was still shivering and shaking with cold, but his jaw set with a resigned determination. "You might," he told her, "want to move." His pale fingers tightened around his wand, his jade eyes flickering between the three constructs. "Don't think they're that particular about who they hurt."
"Oh, they most definitely aren't," she agreed, taking a few steps backwards, putting space between her and where her boyfriend was about to be mauled.
Harry's teeth ground so hard she could practically see flecks of enamel fly off.
"You can't beat them, Potter," Regulus called in a bored sounding tone.
"Then what," Harry questioned, dropping the cloak he'd been using to dry off with and beginning to backpedal away himself, "is the point."
"Cheat, Potter. Cheat."
"So Slytherin of you."
Regulus scoffed and ignored this. "What do you have that they don't, Potter. Because I am really getting tired of playing little league coach to you."
Kally glanced at him. "Little league is for Muggles. How do you know what it is?"
Casper ignored her too, but a strange expression crossed his face. "How about we concentrate on your little boy toy staying alive?"
"I'm still confused on that point, Black," Potter called from where he'd continued his slow game of cat and mouse, where he was the mouse. "Why exactly do you care if I beat him or not?"
A stone man looked at Harry, looked at a baseball-sized rock on the ground, then kicked it at Harry's head.
Potter swore, a hasty shield charm stopping it a meter from his skull.
The stone man's shoulders slumped, as if disappointed.
Black, to his credit, found this entire spectacle normal. "Similar goals, Potter," he droned. "You kill him, I finally get my freedom and can cease and desist looking over my shoulder at all times like a wounded fox on a hunt. Why?"
Harry snorted. "Was thinking the whole 'end of the world' thing going on might have had something to do with it."
"Not in the least. We're overpopulated as it is."
Kally glanced at him again, her eyebrow quirking. "Why'd you work so hard to help develop the cure then?" Catching his scowl, she gave a complacent shrug. "Well if you're hoping we'd all die out anyway…"
Unsurprisingly Casper ignored her.
He did, however, eye her with unveiled displeasure, before smacking her on the arm with his wand. A warming charm spilled into her and Kally shivered, infinitely glad for the wizards in her life this winter.
Even if they were all acerbic spouting asses.
Harry, meanwhile, continued to take a backwards stroll around the beach, looking so cold and so gray from his repeated dips in the ocean that it was a wonder he was still moving at all. The statues followed, at a slow, grinding pace, as if sizing him up.
Harry looked grimly determined, casting a warming charm on himself as well.
"Again Potter," Black called in a lazy drawl, walking to take up a viewing spot besides her, "since I'm feeling generous and giving out hints in the general interest of us all getting inside before you freeze into a corpse, what do you have that they don't? What would be a duplicitous method of beating them?"
Harry cussed beneath his breath, the backs of his feet hitting an icy, foaming sea wave that had rolled up behind him.
Regulus quietly groaned alongside her. "If he is our only hope," he muttered, "we are doomed if his dimwittedness is anything to go by. He is remarkably slow on the 'uptake.'" The Muggle doctor made finger quotes.
And just like that Kally suddenly got what Regulus was driving at, understanding washing across her face, her mouth opening-
Black slammed a hand over her mouth, hissing, "Silence girl. He needs to figure it out on his own."
She smacked his hand away. "I wasn't." Potter unfortunately heard, shooting her a betrayed look. She just shrugged, smiling a bit. "He's right. It won't help you any."
Harry dodged a club that was swung in the general vicinity of his head. "Remind me to stop snogging you."
"Like you'd last."
"I'm in hell," Black stated calmly, conjuring a glass of wine in hand.
Harry growled, darting through the shallow surf and nearly slipping on ice. "Haven't we had this conversation before?" He blindly waved a hand back and forth between them, keeping his eyes on the stone edifices hellbent on crushing him. "Just, you know, reverse."
"Probably."
One of the stone figures had waded out after Harry, ankle deep while Harry stood in frigid water up to his calves.
Black just stared at him, drinking his wine and shaking his head. "Un," he grated, "believable." He paused, as if contemplating the deeper meanings of life. "Only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity, and Potter is proof of the latter. Precisely how long do you think it will take him to come to the same conclusion you did?"
Her boyfriend was now knee deep in water and darting back and forth, rapidly having his escape route cut off. "Not sure. And stop butchering Einstein quotes." She shot him a look. "You know he was a Muggle right?" And Slytherins hated Muggles.
Regulus merely smirked. "I find some of the philosophical insights of your sort's scientists to be rather on point, Kalliandra. Don't you?"
Kally wrapped her arms around herself and bounced up and down on her toes to stay warm. She couldn't imagine how Potter felt, soaked as he was from his repeated dips in the ocean. "My father was a science teacher. What do you think?"
"Mmm," Regulus purred, Kally not sure if he was responding to her or expressing his appreciation for the wine. "At least you possess the mental faculties to deduce sound strategy. Such a feat is clearly not ubiquitous as proven by him."
Harry nearly got taken out by another club, the repurposed branch slamming into the water where he'd just been standing. Kally winced. "You know he's usually better at that kind of thing."
"A factoid of non-import," he drawled, "when his opponent is already an expert at that very thing."
He did have a point.
Harry had backed up into water up to his waist now, looking quickly back and forth between the three stone men as if trying to decide what to actually do. He was sizing them up, muscles taut, standing out beneath the soaked shirt clinging to him. Kally was torn between concern and flat out enjoying the show.
She might have sighed a little too loudly, raking her fingers through her hair as she watched with a small smile.
"Oh spare me," Casper bemoaned.
Harry wasn't using magic. Unlike every other time he'd faced them he wasn't, and that was different. The whole object of this little game they were playing was for Harry to destroy the stone edifices, the things simulating something stronger than him that couldn't feasibly be beaten, on account they weren't actually alive. So Harry was no longer trying to overpower the things. That hadn't worked. No. Now he was just buying himself some time to think.
He waded back into the ocean a bit deeper, and the stone men followed, only to stop once they got up to their knees.
"Come on, Potter…" she encouraged, aware he might not even see it as an option.
Only then he suddenly did.
She could tell the exact moment he figured it out. Water lapped at his waist, Harry eyeing where the creatures had stopped. His brow furrowed, lines so deep they could leave permanent marks, and he looked rapidly back and forth between them.
Then he glanced back over his shoulder, the North Sea stretching to the horizon. It was cold, unforgiving, dark.
Potter's head whipped back towards her and Regulus, green eyes narrowing onto the potion's master as if thinking something through and finally getting it.
This his eyes caught hers, a determined spark within them.
Kally couldn't help it; she grinned.
So did Potter, her boyfriend abruptly casting a warming charm on himself, then flipping his wand around so fast she missed the movement entirely. "Confundo!" The first hex was followed by a second and third, the fiery blue light blasting at the stone men as they tried to take swings-
They failed. The confounding hexes struck each directly in the head, Kally making a mental note to not piss off Potter. Really, her boyfriend had ridiculously good aim.
Given his fondness for taking risks, that was probably a good thing.
Before the stone men had not been willing to follow him into the water; they had simply remained in the shallow surf, trapping him. Apparating by normal means was against the rules of the game. Now though, now they were confused, and very willing to chase their prey deep into the ocean surf.
Harry seized upon that and bolted deeper, diving in. Kally caught sight of his blue jeans and boots before he disappeared, re-emerging farther out twenty seconds later.
At which point he shouted to them both.
"Better not be any fucking sharks out here, Black!"
Regulus uncharacteristically smiled. "And what a pity that would be…"
Kally shot him a dark, dark look.
But Black had closed his eyes, looking as if he were deep in a fantasy about Harry's demise. With a hiss and flick of her fingers she shocked him, the wizard grunting and dropping his glass. It shattered amongst the rock, the glass shards glittering in the sunlight like pieces of ice. The red wine slid between the snow and rocks, creating blood-colored rivulets.
Casper spared it a forlorn glance before conjuring another glass, chastising in an overly cultured voice, "That was expensive."
"So," she snapped, "is Harry."
Their alleged guardian gave a complacent shrug eerily reminiscent of her.
Harry, in the meantime, had begun slapping the water's surface as he tread water, shouting taunting encouragements at the things. "Come on Estonia! Get some! Got some first class savior-skull for you to crack!"
Eventually the confounded things attempted to swim after him.
Given they were made of rock they spectacularly failed, sinking.
Buoyancy had been the answer to Black's riddle of what Potter had that his opponents didn't.
Harry washed up on the shore a minute later, coughing on saltwater and shivering insanely. He looked, for all intents and purposes, like a recently expired corpse.
This time he at least remembered to cast a drying charm on himself.
"Took you long enough," Regulus called, having consumed enough of his new glass to be in a better mood. "Now pull your fool self together, Potter. We resume in two. This time you cannot use the ocean as your defeat option."
Harry made a choking sound.
Kally cast Black one last annoyed look before she walked over to Harry, tossing the spare cloak down to him. Drying spell or not Potter's shirt still stuck against his chest, his jeans clinging to his hips, his dark hair slung over his brow in a fashion that was almost distracting.
"I can't decide if you look terrible," she relayed, "or incredibly hot."
Potter let out a pathetic sort of groan. "Not hot. Hypothermic."
Lips twitching she sat down beside him. "Don't be so dramatic."
Harry remained sprawled out on his back and let out another low groan.
She patted his arm consolingly.
He reached out an arm and grasped for her, Kally snaring his fingers with a hint of a smile. She gave him all of thirty seconds to recover before conversationally asking, "So…what's your plan for round two then?"
Harry cracked an eye at her for all of a second.
Then he determinedly shut them, flipping her off with his free hand instead.
Kally laughed quietly, rubbing her thumb over the back of Potter's very cold hand. His knuckles alone were cracked, bleeding, and she carefully avoided them. "Ah, so you don't have one then."
The dead-looking-human resembling her boyfriend let out a low growl.
A disdainful tone interrupted them. "You are a sciolist, Potter."
At this Harry actually opened his eyes, shooting her a questioning look, mouthing sciolist?
Kally offered an amused look. "You think I know what it means?"
Harry had just opened his mouth to presumably say yeah when Black's voice cut in.
"It means, you troglydytic philistines, that while Potter here acts like an expert on fighting dark wizards, he has little actual knowledge on the subject. Ergo, sciolist." The man's oddly polished shoes crunched against the rocks and ice as he approaching, stopping to hover above them. "Is it any wonder that his forces are winning, when our savior cannot even master basic vocabulary?"
Potter made absolutely no attempt to move. "At least people don't tell me gesundheit every time I open my mouth."
Black sniffed with derision. "You need to learn how to fight dark wizards, Potter, or you will last about five seconds on a real battlefield."
Now Harry just openly glared. "Funny you say that, because of two of us I'm not the one who ran to hide from Riddle for a couple decades. I'll take Moody's training over yours any day."
Black rolled his eyes, not rising to the bait. "Alastor Moody is an Auror, Potter. He is skilled at tracking them down and attacking like the good and loyal Ministry hound he is. And atrophied as your neural synapses surely are from all the sap you and this one spew, surely even you remember how successful they have been in defeating him?"
That got his attention, Harry squeezing her hand and moving to sit up, propping himself up on his elbows. He still somehow managed to keep a hand on her leg though. "What are you driving at, Black?"
"That you need to think like a dark wizard in order to defeat one. And touching as your little bromances with all those Weasley's, the wolf, and Alastor are, none of them can teach you that."
Harry scoffed. "And you can?"
Regulus lips curled back, a sneer on his face. "Yes. Now move, before I decide to attach chain to that little girlfriend of yours ankles and drop her into the sea to let my stone constructs hold onto."
Harry bristled and tightened an iron grip around her wrist. "How about you go and play a little game of hide and go fuck yourself?"
And it continued like that for the next hour. Over the course of it Harry got attacked by stone constructs – Black kindly made more – killing them in increasingly creative ways.
Disappearing in a flaming ball of phoenix fire and reappearing in the air, dropping them and disappearing again.
Opening a sinkhole in the beach and luring them in.
And her personal favorite: animating stone men of his own and having them go at it. While that'd been happening Harry's smug ass had walked over to her and sat down, throwing an arm around her shoulders as they both spectated.
Even Black seemed to enjoy that one.
At the end of the day Black didn't offer any accolades or encouragement. He just merely held open the door for them and shot Harry a dark, assessing look, before telling him, "Better."
Harry and her had shared a glance, Potter leaning close to mutter, "What do you reckon? Anything more and ought to be scared he'll give me a hug next?"
Black had stalked right past them both, muttering soothing things to himself about most likely killing Potter in the morning.
Kally couldn't help it; she laughed.
ECOTS
Author's Note: Writing transitional chapters is like chewing glass...just saying. Also, sorry if this was a bit of a strange chapter. The protagonists all cover some 'real' topics that I think fanfiction always glosses over quite conveniently but, you know, consequences so figured I'd address it that way.
