Per request, the timeline so far….
July 1996 – Harry & Kally meet.
Early October 1996 – The Dublin Zoo is attacked along with several Muggle families in a brazenly political attack to try to cause distrust amongst Muggle governments. This is one of many initiated worldwide. Victims of the Dublin attack are taking back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Remus Lupin turns into a werewolf during the day and attacks Harry and Kally.
Mid October 1996 – Remus meets with werewolves and is given a potion to help control his transformations (to an extent) but it gives him bloodlust. He has been keeping this in check with potions.
Late October 1996 – Hogsmeade is attacked along with other wizarding only areas. The goal was to keep wizards within the boundaries while a spell was cast. The spell provided immunity to wizards from the plague. Meanwhile Death Eaters set the plague loose, beginning in Dublin.
Harry and Kally try to distract the Death Eaters in Hogsmeade while their friends go for help, only to nearly get killed and port keyed into the Forbidden Forest. Mutant werewolves attack (ones that can change at will) and demand the prophecy from Harry once more, nearly drowning Kally. Fawkes brings them a portkey and Harry and Kally wind up at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
Meanwhile back in Hogsmeade Ron is bitten during the daylight hours by Remus in werewolf form and Hermione is taken by Death Eaters. Ginny kills Seamus while imperius cursed.
At Grimmauld Kally loses consciousness, having overdrawn. While Harry and Kally are passed out Angelina, knowing Kalliandra will eventually die, injects her with unicorn blood. Kally loses a sense of self and Harry erects a barrier in her mind to separate the unicorn blood memories from her own. Hermione, Ron, Harry, Kally, Neville, Luna and Ginny are invited into the Order of the Phoenix.
Grimmauld street is attacked by Voldemort and Death Eaters, the end result being a draw. Peter Pettigrew, however, is caught and Sirius' name is finally cleared. Dumbledore and Tonks are severely injured.
Harry and Kally are portkeyed back to Hogwarts, where they find that Hermione has been rescued by Viktor Krum. Harry grows a set and asks Kally out, and the New Order has a meeting.
November and December 1996 – Thanks to the plague and suspicion that Dumbledore had a role in it, Hogwarts has a skeletal crew staff and most students are transferred to other schools by their families. McGonagall is the acting Headmistress while Dumbledore recovers and begins to train everyone in combat, in addition to their regular lessons. Kally takes up an apprenticeship with Regulus and Snape, since she cannot do regular magic and helping with potions would be the most useful thing she could do for the Order and war effort.
Late December 1996 – A potential cure for the plague is created.
January 1997 – Ginny, Neville, Tres and Amarante are sent into Dublin to test the cure. They find that plague victims come back to life as strange zombies. Some have superhuman strength. They also encounter a Muggle girl named Malana who has contracted the plague. They test the various cures on her and one works. However, they are all trapped.
Late January 1997 – Kally, Dean, Regulus, Fred and George are sent into Dublin after them. Death Eaters attack them.
Harry, Luna, Ron and Hermione are sent into the Forbidden Forest with Dumbledore to kill a horcrux. They succeed, but Luna is severely injured and nearly dies.
Early February - A week goes by and those in Dublin have not returned. They attempt to escape, finding a train and using it to take them past the anti-apparation barrier. They are attacked by more Death Eaters and the train is destroyed, with Amarante sustaining a debilitating, traumatic brain injury. Dean and Kally are separated from the group and find out that Dean is a Death Eater (forced against his will in the aftermath of the Hogsmeade attacks).
February/early March 1997 – Kally, Tonks, Dumbledore, Lupin, Dean, Fred, George, Ginny, Neville, Malana, Amarante, Tres, and Regulus are all quarantined for about a month. Kally and Regulus had contracted the plague, but eventually recover. Harry, reeling from his fallout with Dumbledore and self-blame for Luna's injuries, gets jealous over Kally and Dean. They have a 'fight' followed by fluff.
April 1997 – New arrivals begin coming to Hogwarts. Students who were previously forced away by their parents, but have turned 17, now can make their own legal decisions and begin coming back. Several students and wizards from the United States and France come as well.
April 28th, 1997 – The Order of the Phoenix all decide to take a 'swim' in the Black Lake, that McGonagall enchants to try to drown them, to see who gets to go attack the horcrux on the island.
May 1st, 1997 – Dementors attack Hogwarts.
May 2nd, 1997 - A group of thirteen (Dumbledore, Professor Gai, Diggles, Bill, Fred, Ron, Harry, Kally, Luna, Neville, Dean, Tonks and Regulus) go to an island where a suspected horcrux is at. Fleur, Mr. Weasley, Remus and Kingsley remain behind on a boat to provide support from there. They succeed in killing the horcrux, but Harry, Dumbledore, Professor Gai, Diggles, Bill, Kingsley, and Mr. Weasley also die. Harry's body is recovered and brought back to life using practical healing magic.
May 7th, 1997 – Harry wakes up post his near death experience and suffers from post cardiac arrest syndrome. The war bond between he and Kaylens, along with the phoenix tears already in his system, is helping to keep him alive and allowing the damage to his heart to heal slowly. The idiot informs Kally of his intentions regarding eventual marriage and they learn of Hazel Scott.
Early June 1997 – Regulus, Kally, Dean, Fred, George, and Jake are sent off to help other wizarding areas in Europe learn to brew the potion that serves as a plague antidote. Harry is sent home to the Muggles.
July 30th, 1997 – Tonks, Moody and Harry go back six months to February 1st, 1997. Harry begins training with the Aurors.
April 22nd, 1997 – Tonks, Moody and Harry gather outside to dry their mandrake leaves in the light of the full moon, only to hear Bellatrix Lestrange laughing. The fight in the Forbidden Forest ensues and Harry sees Kally 'die'.
April 23rd, 1997 – Just after midnight, Harry goes back in time 3 full days, to April 20th, 1997, to change the events that transpired in the Forbidden Forest.
April 20th through April 22nd, 1997 – Harry 'enlists' Madame Pomfrey's help to learn how to heal and change events. He abducts Umbridge and repeatedly gives her life threatening injuries, using her as a practice dummy for healing. Once done with her Umbridge is obliviated into not remembering she is a witch, and her body is dumped outside a Muggle hospital.
April 23rd, 1997 – Harry succeeds in saving Kally, but Voldemort finds the group lingering outside the Forbidden Forest, unable to return to the castle due to the protective charms Dumbledore and McGonagall had placed upon it to protect the students. Kally suffers near fatal injuries and finally overdraws in order to kill another horcrux. Overdrawing is the typical death for all Reaches.
April 27th, 1997 – Harry realizes that the two timelines do not match. On the night of April 27th Harry meets up with Kally, Hermione and Ron in the common room. Harry finds out that Kally hasn't ever used her wand before (she has but doesn't remember, due to the time travelling). Kally and he go to the Room of Requirement (chapter 48) and she uses her wand with success. However, as of April 27th Kally is still unconscious and quite honestly dying. She cannot breathe on her own for long and spells are keeping her alive. She is well and truly in a coma and bad shape. He, Regulus Black (a Healer) go back in time four months to December of 1996 to give her time to heal. That, Harry justifies, is the only way the two timelines can match up and make sense (if she had time to heal before the events of April 27th took place).
Harry and Regulus go back in time to December of 1996 with Kally's injured body. They stay at a cottage of Dumbledore's family, since no one else will be there and there is no chance of running into the other versions of themselves running around.
December 1996 – Harry enlists Hermione's help to perform archaic magic, transferring his magical abilities to her to help the unicorn blood in her body heal her injuries. It works, but he cannot do magic. His magic will come back eventually, but it will take time for it to regenerate. They decide not to obliviate Hermione, as she does not do anything that will affect the timelines badly and she can then research ways to heal Order members.
January 1997 – They visit the Scotts and learn about Hazel and Voldemort's history.
They go to Highgate Cemetery and find another horcrux, killing it. In the process this horcrux affects Harry, Kally and Hermione rather seriously. They find that Hazel has been kept 'in stasis', neither alive nor dead with a decaying body, for decades, and Kally finally snaps the thread of life connecting her there, killing her.
February 1997 – Regulus, Harry and Kally are back at Dumbledore's cottage, and Hermione is back at Hogwarts.
ECOTS
Chapter 76 ~ What Do You Mean Not Every Day Involves Life or Death?
"Wherever you are, be all there." ~ Jim Elliot
ECOTS
March 15th, 1997
The next few weeks passed in a blur of books, drills, wands, and gratuitous beatings.
Kaylens slammed into the snow with a crack, Harry right behind her, only he landed purposefully on her, grabbing the back of her long golden hair and jerking her head ruthlessly back. A cry escaped her lips, Harry's stomach practically gutted as he ignored it.
Instead Harry's knees sank further into the snow, an icy crust having frozen the top layer into something crunchy, the rocks and sand of the beach digging through his jeans. They were outside Dumbledore's cottage, Kaylens face down with her slender neck angled awkwardly backwards, her cervical vertebrae straining against the pressure he was personally applying.
Kaylens' knit hat lay lost, somewhere off to the side, thrown during their brawl. Now her ears and face were exposed to the oddly cold March air, her warm breath misting in front of her face.
Harry dropped his face down to outright snarl. "When," he growled, "are you going to take this seriously?" Nearly a year ago, when they'd brawled in Dumbledore's office, he hadn't recalled her being so easy to take out. Now though….
Now he'd managed to knock her on her ass and take her out eighteen times in a row and counting.
Kaylens just hissed in his grip, her expression contorted into one of pain and annoyance. "I'll take it," she muttered, "under consideration."
There was nothing for it.
He growled again.
Then he flipped her over, fist slamming down beside her head. Harry hovered over her, and to her credit she didn't even look startled at being manhandled.
No. She looked downright amused.
"You're taking the mickey out of me."
Her chest heaved, rising up and down as she tried to catch her breath, giving him one hell of a good look down her shirt. Kaylens, oblivious to being ogled, merely widened her eyes mockingly. "So that's what I'm doing…" She said it as if new worlds of information had been opened up to her.
"You know you're not as funny as you think you are."
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't think I'm funny at all."
He contemplated slamming his face in the snow. Perhaps that would help his rapidly developing headache. "I'm serious, Kaylens. Since when did it get so easy to take you out?"
For a moment she looked confused, shooting him a questioning look. "Are you serious?"
The look he shot her made it perfectly clear that he was.
The look she shot him assured him that he was an imbecile. "You're bigger than me, Potter. Honestly, since Dumbledore's office you broadened out. Not to mention apparently learned how to brawl, so…" she gave a one-shouldered shrug, wiggling beneath him to get comfortable. "It's not a leap to think it'd be easier to overpower me. Though out of curiosity, how far off in the future is it before you become so fit?" She lifted up a hand and gave his bicep a squeeze, looking like she was enjoying herself.
He looked at her hand as if it were an irritating fly.
She dropped her hand with a sigh. "You know, you're really taking all the fun out of wrestling you."
Harry cursed. Loudly. "This wasn't supposed to be fun." He might have said more, but Kally was clearly not paying attention. No. His girlfriend's eyes had begun traveling down his chest, moving lower to where he straddled her, pinning her quite literally to the ground.
He suddenly grasped what the term ogled actually meant.
Harry drummed his fingers against the ground, a low growl emitting from his chest.
Eventually Kaylens brought her eyes back up, hiding a guileless smile.
"This isn't," he muttered, "a game, Kaylens. Voldemort manhandled you. After Hogsmeade that werewolf grabbed and nearly killed you. And don't get me started on Avery. You couldn't get away. What if something happens again and I'm not there to get you out of it?"
A small furrow formed between her eyes.
"Ah, she finally gets it," he drawled, sounding scarily like Black.
"I broke," she corrected, "Avery's nose. Surely that counts?"
"Alright." He paused. "Discount Avery and you're left with Voldemort and a werewolf. Not terrifying at all," he said flatly. "Can't imagine why I'd want you to learn how to fight back. Not like I want you alive, or anything."
Kaylens eyed him as if troubled. "You're really bothered by this, aren't you?"
Now it was his turn to look at her like she was an idiot.
She skillfully ignored this. "And you wouldn't be if I could beat you in one of these brawls just once?"
"It'd be," he said, "a decent start."
Her lips parted, then closed, as if rethinking some small argument. Then she simply shook her head, saying, "Fine, Potter. Have it your way."
Harry wasn't entirely certain what happened next. He was just aware of a jolt, like a shock that shot through his whole body, ricocheting through his muscles and rendering them rather useless. Pain exploded in his nose, and he found himself shoved over onto his back.
He lay there in the snow and his jacket gave an undignified sizzle. He couldn't be certain, but he thought the lapel of the brown leather had just caught fire.
A handful of snow was shoved unceremoniously onto it, snuffing it out. It still hissed, a waft of smoke drifting up. Then his perplexing girlfriend sat on his legs, giving his chest a conciliatory pat.
Harry let out a groan. "Phat in the phuck,was phat?"
Golden irises eyed him sympathetically. "You might want to fix your nose, Harry. It's all…" she wrinkled hers, "crooked."
Harry reached for his wand and did exactly that, ignoring that a muscle in his arm was still twitching spasmodically. The spell took effect a second later, Harry feeling the cartilage crack back into place. It hurt, but he ignored it. He was too busy looking up at the girl sitting on him. "That," he said, his sinuses giving a dull throb, "was better." He paused. "You forgot we said no magic."
"We said no wands," she corrected. "I don't need a wand to electrocute you."
Right. He had to remember he was dating someone nearly sorted into Slytherin. With a groan he drug a hand up to his still twitching eyebrow and tried to hold it in place. "Telling you that violated the spirit of the exercise would probably be lost on you, wouldn't it?"
"Probably."
For the thousandth time since this entire insane affair had begun, Harry wondered if she was bad for his health.
Probably.
He loved every second of it.
"Seriously Harry," she said, "when did you learn to actually fight anyhow?" It wasn't said insultingly. If anything, she sounded genuinely curious.
He just grunted. "I've been living with Mad Eye and an insane, color-changing Auror for the past three months. Where do you think?"
The golden haired imp bit down on her lip, as if holding back a laugh.
"A half dozen grindylows," he added, "might also have been involved." Really, the infestation was annoying. Particularly when the 'rodents' in question frequently tried to pull you out of bed to drown you.
Now he wasn't imagining it; she was definitely holding back a laugh.
Harry made a displeased sound, his gaze cutting across where she sat, perched rather serenely on his knees. Sunlight spilled over her form, her knit hat long since dislodged, her dark golden hair a tangled mess. It tumbled down her back, like an ethereal waterfall of liquid gold that the goblins kept hidden beneath Gringotts. Really, if he ever had to make a vault withdrawal he made a mental note to not take her with him; the surly creatures might never let her leave, claiming she was an artifact.
Her lips twitched, as if reading his thoughts.
Harry quirked an eyebrow.
She didn't seem to notice. Her jacket was unzipped just enough to see the cut of her shirt, her gaze shifting to look off into the distance at the roaring sea, the infuriating non-witch fiddling with the phoenix feather wristlet he'd given her.
In the sunlight her eyes practically glowed.
Spying his look she cast a curious smile at him, raising an eyebrow.
With a growl he grabbed her by the waist, earning a startled squeak as he readjusted her so her weight wasn't quite dislocating his kneecaps. He made absolutely no attempt to remove his hands from her waist thereafter. "You know," he said, "you're awfully agreeable with this whole," he gestured with a finger back and forth between them, "thing."
She gave another one of those one-shouldered shrugs she always gave. "I'm never going to be able to beat you, Harry. So I'm not going to even try your way. It's like Regulus said, if you can't, then cheat."
He smirked ruthlessly. "So glad you feel that way."
His fist shot up and Harry grabbed at her hair, jerking her backwards, his girlfriend letting out a loud cry as he tossed her off him. There was a scuffle, Kaylens attempting to kick him and managing to land a knee in his ribs, while he shoved his forearm in her face, knocking her back.
It ended like the other attempts: her on the ground, him on top of her, and Kaylens looking mildly irritated. Harry heaved several breaths, his darkened gaze sweeping Kaylens' familiar face for any sign of injury, finding none. It still didn't stop the annoyed twinge in his gut that he got every time he had to hurt her. But, at least she wasn't holding any of this against him.
She lifted a slender hand and flicked hair out of her face. "You should add this to that relationship book of yours, Potter," she said. "Solving problems by wrestling match."
He snorted. "Dangerous. Ron would actually try it and Hermione might kill him."
"Might?"
He laughed.
Then he got kneed in the balls, the pain actually blinding him.
Harry fell over sideways, clutching his manhood and groaning. Kally just shoved herself up with a smile, brushing her hands off on her jeans.
"That," he grunted, "is really going to mess up our night."
Kaylens just shot him an innocent smile, then crouched down beside him to whisper something about kissing and making things better.
Harry immediately and abruptly forgot all about grappling drills.
ECOTS
March 18th, 1997
"You know Potter, I'm actually impressed."
Harry lifted his head to shoot the man a look. It was the kind of look that trained snipers shot their soon-to-be victims: cold, calculating, ruthless.
Regulus was impervious to it. "I actually mean it. How fast you sycophants grow up."
Kally rested her elbows on the table and glanced cautiously between the two. "Do you really think it'll work?" She hated how worried she sounded.
"Don't know." Harry shrugged. "Guess we'll find out."
"That's not particularly reassuring." Her eyes narrowed in subtle point.
Her boyfriend had already returned his attention to the parchment spread across the kitchen table. It detailed a crudely drawn island and its perimeter, including the surrounding ocean, a rocky barrier that allegedly required a blood sacrifice to breach in either direction, and a large X where a boat had apparently been before Death Eaters had sunk it. He held a quill so heavily dipped in ink that it freely dripped, but he didn't even notice; Potter was too busy muttering to himself about spots where he, Moody and Tonks could disillusion themselves and stake out the Death Eaters destined to attack all of them.
She hissed in exasperation at his ability to single mindedly focus on potentially suicidal tasks. "Potter…"
"Kaylens," he deadpanned. For the briefest moment he glanced up, the serial-killer-esque vibe he'd been exuding vanishing as the ghost of a grin touched his face.
She dropped her hands onto the table, palms resting flat against it. "You're enjoying this far too much."
"Why not? Can't be worse than the last time I was there. Least this time I won't wind up dead."
Kally was fairly certain the sputtering sound was coming from herself. "You-you can't know that!" Of all the asininely stupid, insane things he could risk, him risking this wasn't one she was even remotely alright with.
Kally had woken up in the middle of the night to find him gone, out here, drawing and muttering to himself like a Quidditch-obsessed mad man about ways to find out where the 'bastard was hiding.'
Apparently Fleur Delacour would soon get taken by Death Eaters, and Harry wanted to put a tracking chip on not just her, but on at least one of the Death Eaters abducting her. It'd let the Order figure out where Voldemort and his followers were hiding their victims.
It also meant putting himself in danger, at the site where he would apparently be killed.
And it terrified her.
Regulus opened the fridge and rooted around for something. "Your blatant concern for him is downright sickening." Finding what he was looking for he pulled it out, a decanter of wine – chilled – in hand. He wasted no time in removing the stopper, fixing her with a disappointed look.
She ignored him, a standard means of communication in this cottage. Potter had already turned his attention back to the map, while a tiny, wooden-carved, and animated ostrich flew overhead in stark defiance of natural law and physics. Specifically, it flew in circles around Harry's head.
It also chirped.
Kally was fairly certain that ostriches did not chirp. In the Dumbledore cottage though, they did.
Without even looking Harry reached up a hand and sent a wandless blast of air at it, veering it off course and directly into the wall.
She snatched his quill from him, voice ridiculously calm. "Harry," she said, "sell me on this. What exactly are you hoping to accomplish?" She gestured at his scrawled artwork that was meant to be a battle plan. But really, a child could have drawn better. "Asides from getting that 'I almost died' adrenaline rush you seem to have taken up as your new favorite sport?"
Kally realized this probably made her sound like a nattering girlfriend.
She also realized that she honestly didn't care. She still wasn't entirely certain how she felt about all of this. Potter was going to do something asininely stupid and she wouldn't even be able to be there to help him. Or smack him. Or whatever.
Harry glanced up, expression almost unreadable.
Then his brow deeply furrowed, her wizard nodding as if coming to a decision.
He abruptly stood, grabbing the back of his chair and scooting it closer to hers, until he was right next to her. He sat. Then, without a word, he reached out and shifted the map so it was positioned right beneath both their faces.
"This," he said, pointing, "is the line. It's a magical barrier Riddle set up that prevents anyone from getting on or off the island easily." He drug the tip of his finger around the edge of the paper, stopping at the X. "That's the ship we all go in on. It gets attacked by Death Eaters and they-" he paused, expression growing hard, "-they kill Mr. Weasley and Kingsley. They take Fleur and leave Moody and Lupin for dead. But if we can get something on Fleur before any of this takes place, we might be able to track where they take her, which means we can rescue her." He scowled. "Eventually."
It was the eventually that had Kally frown.
Harry was already pointing to another spot, a bit farther off. "This is where we saw the Death Eaters fly off. If Moody, Tonks and I disillusion ourselves and take up position there, they'll fly right past us. We might be able to get a tracker onto one of them in the post-attack chaos without them noticing. If we can," he pressed, "that gives us a backup in case the one on Fleur doesn't work or in case they find it."
Black snorted. "They will. The Dark Lord is perhaps more paranoid than even you, Potter. Frisking prisoners is a rather standard matter."
"Great," he muttered beneath his breath. "Smart Death Eaters. Who the fuck knew?"
Kally quirked an eyebrow, tilting her head to better look at him. "Given they're winning…everyone?"
Harry simply growled at her. "Not helping."
"Wasn't trying to."
"Wench."
"I prefer pragmatist."
Harry simply stared at her, his shockingly serious expression cracking with the barest trace of amusement. "You're going," he finally said, "to be the death of me."
Her own lips twitched, her long hair brushing against the map. "Now who's being surly?"
With a muttered oath Harry grabbed her chair, giving it an abrupt jerk so that it thudded against his. Kally might have squeaked at the sudden maneuver, the wizard steadfastly ignoring that and thumping an arm around her shoulders.
Then he turned back to the map, Kally shuddering unconsciously as his callused fingers brushed purposefully against the back of her neck.
A slight smirk touched his face, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her. "My point is if we can get a tracking chip on one of those bastards, we could track their movements. See all the places the Death Eaters are going. Maybe they have more than one safe house. Maybe not. That kind of thing. And we can do that safely from here." He jabbed a finger at the spot he'd indicated before.
Kally considered it for a moment, an unsettled feeling still in her. "I think you're forgetting one thing, Potter."
Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Your 'saving people' thing." She lifted a solitary hand and made two fingered air quotes. "Are you honestly going to be able to sit back while people you care about die and not do anything about it?"
His musculature stiffened, marginally, but she still felt it. It was the set of his jaw that was the most noticeable. "Yes."
She quirked an eyebrow.
"First rule of time travel, Kaylens," he said stiffly. "You can't change something that has already happened."
Regulus leaned against the counter and took a drink straight from the decanter, snorting in an undignified manner. "Of course, we wouldn't want to create a time paradox and put us all into a permanent loop, now would we?"
Harry shot him a black look, before turning his attention back onto her. His lips drew into a thin, firm line, face moving through several expressions before he even tried to talk.
When he finally did he sounded pissed. "I don't like it, but I don't have a choice. They're dead. I can't change that."
From the countertop Fawkes let out a musical trill, Kally not sure when the phoenix had joined them and not particularly caring. Regulus too, seemed surprised to find the creature had joined them, glancing at the bird and drawling, "I know. It's absolutely obscene how mature he's becoming."
Those familiar green eyes, ones that had been fixed on her, swiveled towards the counter to glare at them. "You are both," Harry said calmly, "complete assholes."
Kally swore that Fawkes actually chuckled.
Harry's attention turned back to her, his expression stony as his eyes. "Kaylens?"
Kally took a small breath, unable to say anything for a full minute. Instead she quietly sat there, biting down on her lower lip while Harry's hand gently trailed up and down the back of her neck, the movement rhythmic, calming.
Harry wanted to go after the Death Eaters, to find out where the hideout was. He had a chance to try to save people, people he cared about, but wasn't going to. She didn't get it. Finally…
"You said you can't save them," she said, words soft, "because you can't change the timeline. But if that's true…then how'd you change it for me?"
Harry didn't so much as blink, but something dark entered his eyes. "I never checked to see if you had a pulse, Kaylens. There wasn't time." His eyes raked intensely over her. "Black didn't check either. I'm glad for that. It let me go the hell back and change things without screwing up the timeline."
Her heart skipped at his tone. "And if you had?"
She wasn't certain why she'd asked it. She just…did.
Potter went silent, his expression as hard as she'd ever seen it. "I'd have done it anyway."
Kalliandra could barely breathe. "Harry…"
"That's it," Regulus drawled, cutting in, "Potter, I'm revoking your timeturner rights."
Harry lifted the hand not draped around her and flipped him off.
Casper muttered something foul over the decanter, the flying ostrich landing on his head and eliciting a whole new round of mutterings.
Kally barely noticed. She hadn't taken her eyes off of Harry's. His stared right back, the wizard smirking slightly. "You're worried." It wasn't a question.
"Am I that transparent?"
"Hardly," he muttered. He snagged one of her hands off the table. "But Death Eaters don't play nice, Kal,and like hell am I passing up a chance to fight dirty." He grimaced. "They won't see this coming. And I'll have Moody and Tonks to back me up."
She sighed. "I'd still feel better if Dumbledore knew."
He scoffed. "Seeing as how Dumbledore is going to be a bit preoccupied with that whole 'dying and being reborn as a bird' thing, can't exactly involve him or McGonagall."
He was right. Kally hated to admit that, but he was right. He'd have two Aurors with him, but still… "And you're obliviating Regulus and I."
A shadow crossed his expression. "Yeah."
She sighed, considering something she'd almost rather not, yet doing it anyway. "What about Hermione?" she posed. "She already knows about this. You're not obliviating her because it won't matter and from what you said she's not going to that island with you and Ron anyway so…" Hermione was a powerful witch. She could help. Seeing the puzzled look on Harry's face, she hastened, "She's good with a wand, Harry. The more people you have to help you the better."
Harry still looked confused. "Let me get this straight," he said, "you're actively encouraging me to go on a stealth mission with the witch that I snogged under the influence of Riddle's toy?"
Kally shot him a narrow eyed glare. "Yes."
"Shit," he said. "You are perfect."
Kally couldn't help it: she growled.
Her boyfriend just chuckled. "You know you have nothing to worry about," he said, shoving his fingers determinedly through hers. It sent tingling through her fingertips.
"I'm aware. Just doesn't mean I'm exactly happy…"
Potter grinned, looking a bit self-satisfied. "You'll get over it."
Kally hissed. "Thanks for the reminder. Really, so looking forward to that whole wand to my head thing you're going to do."
His grin disappeared, Harry growing rigid. "Told you Kaylens, I'm not going to do that."
She shot him a pitying look. "Call me dumb, Potter, but pretty certain you have to if you want to actually, you know, live."
Everything about him was tense. "Yeah," he said lowly, as if speaking to himself, "you'd think."
He said nothing else on the matter, Kally simply eyeing him curiously. "You realize," she finally said, "I won't remember any of this? So technically you don't actually have to explain any of this to me, right?"
"Yeah well, I'd rather not have you pissed at me for the next month, if it's all the same to you." His lips gave a bitter twitch, but after a minute it faded. Harry studied her with a long, penetrating stare. "I told you before, Kaylens, not going to keep shit from you. Not ever. Not even if it makes you pissed, because this thing between us…it needs to work."
Kally didn't argue. She didn't ask why. She already knew. So she nodded.
A satisfied expression crossed Potter's face.
Kally shook her head at him, then glanced over at where Black still stood. Somehow the bastard managed to look aristocratic despite the conversation of being obliviated and the wooden ostrich now sharing the decanter of liquor with him. "And Regulus, you're okay with all of this?"
The wizard scoffed with undiluted derision. "Do be clear, Reach. Are you referring to his plans against the Dark Lord, the subsequent use of his unskilled charms work upon our heads, or my unwitting entrapment with the two of you and your sickening displays of…" his lips curled, spitting the last word, "affection?"
Potter made to get out of the chair, Kally giving him a firm yank back down. "No you can't kill him," she said, glaring at Regulus anyway. "I was referring to the former two," she said dangerously, "but don't worry, we'll make sure to turn that last one up a few notches on the public display part since you're such a romantic and all."
Harry choked on a laugh, Kally shooting him a scolding look. He did not look the least bit apologetic.
Neither did Regulus. "He's using the element of surprise and time travel to his advantage. The Dark Lord won't be expecting that." Tilting his head in an uncommon sign of acknowledgement, he added, "Shocking as it might be, I approve."
Besides her Potter snorted derisively. "Well that's a first."
Casper turned his dark gaze onto him. "Contrary to popular opinion, Potter, you occasionally do have good instincts. Such a pity you rarely seem to follow them." He seemed to consider something. "Besides, I find it downright ruthless and refreshing that you are willing to allow that veela friend of yours to remain in the Dark Lord's captivity just to gain an advantage in war. There are rather few willing to make the necessary sacrifices to win this, and that old man running the school is regrettably one of them." He lifted a regal hand and gave a flick at the miniaturized ostrich, sending it flying so that he could tilt the decanter towards him. "I am, admittedly, glad to see the so-called savior coming around to our way of thinking. Hell, Potter, this tactic…it is downright Slytherin of you."
Quite suddenly her hand felt like it was being slowly crushed, Harry's grip tightening exponentially. "Don't mistake me doing what is necessary with liking it, Black."
"Don't mistake me for someone who cares."
The toy ostrich took off, flying sideways into the fridge. It squawked drunkenly as it hit the floor, shaking itself off and stumbling sideways.
The poor thing had probably concussed itself three times in under five minutes.
Kally was pretty certain her phalanges were being crushed, the non-witch trying to free her hand from Harry's. The motion caught his attention, Harry jerking his burning gaze away from Regulus and back to her, comprehension dawning on his face.
Instantly the pressure on her hand relaxed. "Sorry."
She offered him a mildly pained smile. "No problem."
He looked at her for another moment.
Then he abruptly stood, jerking her up with him. The second she was on her feet he began dragging her away from the table, the map, the strategizing session, Regulus, the drunken ostrich, and within moments she found herself bodily hauled out of the room.
Unlike the chaoticness of the kitchen, where carved figurines flew around and various baubles buzzed and whirred, the living area was downright peaceful.
And still something was clearly wrong.
Harry's grip slipped from hers, her boyfriend stalking off towards the entry, hands lifting to tug at his hair. Every muscle in him rippled with barely repressed tension, his gaze half-dead as he stared at the closed door.
Kally's fingers curled in on themselves, the absence of his hand in hers suddenly palpable. She wet her lips, silently waiting.
Eventually Harry spoke, his voice oddly devoid of emotion.
"Am I doing the right thing?"
Wetting her lips again, she didn't have to ask what he meant: the cold, methodical, pre-emptive calculation Harry was doing with Fleur's life.
A chill shot up her spine.
Harry didn't turn to face her. He kept his back to her. His fingers tightened in his messy black hair.
She took in a small breath. "Do you think you are?" Ultimately it didn't matter what she thought; it mattered what he did.
A second passed, and then another.
His hands dropped away from his head.
"That's not what I asked." His voice was almost cold, and in that moment she realized that maybe she was wrong. Maybe what she thought mattered more to him than even his own sodding opinion.
It was enough to make her mouth dry.
"Yes," she said. She was surprised to realize she meant it. If asked to make the choice, she'd decide the same.
Harry remained motionless, standing a meter from the cottage's door. The set of his shoulders, the tension in his arms…it told her everything she needed to know about his thought process.
"Fleur's one of us, Kaylens. If I do this...if I use her to get an advantage doesn't that make me just as bad as him?"
Kally didn't know if he meant Voldemort or Black, but her answer was the same regardless. She shook her head, wetting her lips. Then she strode forward a few steps, closing the distance, determinedly threading her fingers tightly through his. "No. No it doesn't."
It took Harry a second longer to respond, but eventually he nodded.
"Come on," he muttered, "we should keep reading…horcruxes aren't going to find themselves."
And just like that Kally watched her boyfriend shut down his emotions on the matter.
ECOTS
March 31st, 1997
Another fortnight passed, and Harry found himself inside the Shrieking Shack with Hermione and Kally, Black standing an annoyed guard near one of the boarded up windows.
"And the brunette is absolutely certain that her little wards will hold?" The wizard poked the piece of plywood with his wand, scowling. "I've seen better."
Hermione pursed her lips at the less-than-subtle insult to her academia. Harry cut in before she could do something that'd get her expelled. "If you're so certain they're rubbish why don't you test them out?" He leaned back in his rickety chair, spun his wand in a decidedly Tonks-like-manner, and smirked ruthlessly. "Really Black, it'll be fun."
Black shot him a less than humored look. Harry just grinned back. He really wanted to see Black get blasted into the next century by Hermione's wards, particularly since he'd spent the better part of the past few weeks training against Black's stone constructs. The continued beatings and Black's unhidden glee had hardly endeared him to the bastard.
Unfortunately the Potion's Master was a bit smarter than Harry hoped for, looking between Hermione and the boarded up glass, before scowling, backing away from the windows. He eyed it like a German Shepherd that had recently gone rabid.
Harry couldn't help it; he snorted.
Hermione shot him a scolding look.
Harry shrugged, totally unapologetic.
Kaylens simply sighed.
"That witch of yours better hope her wand work is cleverer than his servants, Potter."
"See what I mean?" Harry asked, meeting his friend's brown gaze. "He's daft. Your spells are always better."
Hermione shot him a scolding look. Harry had long since become impervious to those. His and Ron's years of procrastinating on revisions had just about assured he'd be immune, otherwise he'd have caved a long time ago. For now though, Hermione had done something clever with a wand and warded the area so no one could find them, let alone overhear them. Hogsmeade visits might be completely and totally cancelled, a thing of the past, but there were still kids that lived in the village. The last thing they needed was one to stumble across them at the Hogs Head or the Three Broomsticks or even out in the Forest.
So they were meeting here, in the Shrieking Shack, in the dead of night. It seemed easiest for Hermione to sneak out to meet them without being noticed there anyhow, on account of the tunnel. Particularly since only Dumbledore and McGonagall was aware of what she was doing.
Since he'd refused to obliviate her, on the grounds that someone needed to research how to save soldiers on their side in the war from brain death, Hermione had been doing just that. Apparently something in her research had warranted them all meeting, and she needed Kally and Regulus' help. In fact, she'd gone so far as to tell Harry by owl that he could stay wherever he was and wasn't needed.
Since he wasn't fond of things remaining awkward he'd flat out ignored that and come along anyway.
That'd earned him about thirty seconds of awkwardness, his best friend looking between he and Kaylens like a deer in headlights, before Kaylens had declared, "Oh for God's sakes I'm not mad!" to get her to stop.
Black had merely snorted, drawling, "But imagine the fun if you were…"
That'd earned him black looks from all three of them.
Now here they were.
As it turned out Hermione had researched everything the school library had to offer on the subject of revitalizing destroyed brain tissue and come up empty. Hell, she'd even gotten a note from McGonagall to ransack St. Mungo's archives, spent a few days doing exactly that as part of an alleged 'advanced research project for gifted students' and come up equally empty there.
Apparently she'd found something anyway.
Harry abruptly leaned forward, dropping both his elbows onto the dust covered table. They sunk into the centimeter deep crap. "Well?" he asked. "Did you find out anything?" He shot his eyes between Kally and Hermione one more time, assessing whether or not his girlfriend was going to kill his best friend. Judging from Kaylens eye roll he figured Hermione was relatively safe.
Relative being the operative word.
Hermione still shot Kalliandra a slightly worried look, worrying on her lower lip for a moment before glancing over to him.
And then her eyes sparkled.
Harry lifted his eyebrows. "So you did find something."
"Sort of."
His eyebrows dropped right back down. Hermione didn't use vague terms like 'sort of.' "You were at Mungo's all week, Hermione. How could you of all people not find something?"
Again there was that strange spark to her eyes. "I didn't find something at Mungo's, Harry."
A pause.
"The research work being done there was admittedly…" she pursed her lips in a small frown, "sloppy. They just seem to have re-hashed the same outdated concepts from fifty years ago over and over. So I branched out."
"How good that someone barely legal has arrived at the same deductions I could have divulged twenty years ago," Black drawled. "Why do we need her again?"
Kaylens glanced towards him with a frown. Harry just disregarded him. "Go on."
"The research there really was abhorrent, Harry," the Prefect said carefully. "I looked at their funding sources while I was there too. It's all from pureblood foundations." She brushed a curl out of her eyes. "Is it any wonder they've become so stagnant? Any research proposals from Muggleborns like me and even half-bloods have been getting turned down for decades. It was…it was a bit frightening, almost."
Black snorted. "Money talks girl." He paused. "Potter, I thought you said this friend of yours was intelligent? Surely even she is in possession of faculties enough to know that purebloods own the wizarding world?" He sniffed. "Money and positions of power are hardly handed out to you mere peasants."
"Don't mind him," Harry said, seeing Hermione had gone slack jawed. "He hasn't had his afternoon nap yet."
"When it is afternoon I will. Look outside, Potter. It is well after midnight. I am more likely to dance naked and howl at the moon than nap at present."
Harry rolled his eyes, while Kaylens' gaze took on a critical air.
Then his girlfriend abruptly stood, walking towards the window, where she immediately started to frisk him. "Where is it?"
Black began cursing in uncharacteristic unrestrained fashion.
"Howl naked at the moon…" Kally muttered, "Are you trying to scar me for life?"
"If you must know I was quoting that boyfriend of yours assumptions of Slytherin house." There was a slapping sound as Black attempted to bat her away.
Harry ignored this with the steadfast patience of someone who was used to it. Hermione had just gone wide eyed, lips parted, aghast.
"Careful 'Mione," he said, "or dust from the nineteen seventies might fly in."
Her mouth snapped shut. "Harry," she said quietly, as if keeping her voice low would prevent them from hearing, "Kally's um…well she's…"
"Searching Black with the proficiency of a Muggle TSA agent? Yeah, Hermione, I know."
The pride of Gryffindor house stared.
It took a moment, the sounds of Kaylens shamelessly frisking Black and his protestations breaking the silence, but eventually there was a triumphant, "Ah ha!" A moment later Kally came back, an onyx-colored flask in her hand, and she plopped herself right back into her recently vacated chair.
A second later she leaned back in it, kicking off both her shoes, before propping her feet on his thighs.
Harry eyed her perfect fucking feet like they were dangerous asps, then quirked a brow at her.
Kaylens just grinned, before her eyes flickered behind him, those golden irises of hers narrowing critically. Judging from the sound of hard, swift moving footsteps on creaking floorboards, Harry had a pretty good idea of what she was looking at: Black, coming to reclaim his flask.
As usual she took precisely three seconds to make a decision. Then she unscrewed the cap and tossed it back, chugging it like a Muggle collegiate at their first frat party.
She coughed, half choking on it, dropping it on the table as her entire face scrunched up, her nose wrinkling in distaste. Harry watched in mild amusement as she flat out wheezed. "Merlin, Black, that was-"
The wizard was on them in two seconds flat, snatching the flask back angrily. "Fifty years aged scotch girl, squandered on your inelegant taste buds."
Kaylens had clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling another round of coughing, but she managed a weak, "Better that then your liver."
Black sputtered angrily. "My liver is fine you philistine."
Even Harry snorted at that, his hands having dropped to Kaylens striped socked feet, massaging her toes. "Uh huh," he said skeptically.
The ghost of his godfather snarled and stomped away, muttering dark things and staring morosely at his now empty canteen.
Harry just gave Kaylens' foot a slight shake. "Remarkably subtle. What's next? Clubbing him over the head?"
His girlfriend just winced, still wheezing from the clear alcoholic burn she'd just given herself. "Shit if I know but I am not doing that again."
Hermione eyed them and their shocking degrees of dysfunction with blatant worry. When she spoke though, she was remarkably calm. "So this is…normal then?" Her brown eyes flickered towards where Sirius' ghost had disappeared to.
"Kaylens doing shots? No. Black overdrinking? Yes."
Hermione pursed her lips and frowned. "But he didn't seem…"
"Drunk?" Kally shook her head, tucking strands of long, golden hair behind her ears. "He wouldn't. He's a functioning alcoholic. It's gotten worse since the cottage. Captivity apparently doesn't 'suit him.'" She made air quotes. "I keep dumping out his stashes and he keeps finding increasingly creative ways to resupply them."
Harry tweaked her small toe in a small sign of solidarity. "At the very least it's entertaining to watch her try," he told Hermione.
Kally hissed at him.
Actually hissed.
Harry's attention darted back to Hermione. "So, Mungo's research is as prejudicial as the rest of the wizarding world and you found something?"
One thing that being friends with him for so many years had done for Hermione was it'd helped her recover quickly from outlandish shit, and she did. She nodded, an unkempt curl that had escaped her bun bouncing. "No, actually. I had to sneak away from St. Mungo's for that. I went to the National Institute for Health's Biomedical Research Center and the University College of London Hospital-"
Kally choked, "You went to Muggle London? In the middle of a plague?" Her hazel eyes glinted, and Harry swore to hell that she actually looked impressed. "Hermione that was-" She winced, her eyes still watering from having chugged Black's liquor.
Harry frowned. "How about next time," he suggested, "we don't booze it up in an effort to keep Black's liver intact?"
"The boy is correct," Black drawled form elsewhere in the shack. "My liver so does have this irritating tendency of growing back. Hardly cause for your concern."
"Bite," she coughed, "me."
Harry smirked like a jackal. "Gladly."
"I was talking to him."
"Well hell Kaylens, didn't know you and Reggie had that kind of relationship."
Kaylens' gaze darted beneath the table, and Harry instantly knew she was eyeing his nads to see if she could accurately kick him or not. "Oh please," he drawled, "like you'd hurt something so important to both of us."
Naturally she tried. Harry managed to cross his legs damn quick.
Black made a disappointed sound from the doorway.
Hermione just pressed on. "Well…" she said, as if worried for their sanity, "leaving magical London seemed my only option. There just wasn't much there and Muggles are at least are much more transparent on where their research's funding is coming from. We're at least innovative, which wizards clearly aren't anymore. Not to mention everyone there is so panicked about this plague business they barely noticed another student with a visitor's slip looking through their computers."
"So what did you find, Hermione?" Harry asked, sliding his hand up and down Kally's calf. She shivered beneath his touch and forgot all about rendering him sterile.
There was a second, maybe two, where Hermione maintained self-control.
Then it all went out the window.
"They're doing all kinds of things! Muggles, that is. Wizards really need to take their cues from us given we're far less repressed and our scientists aren't operating on outdated prejudices. In fact-"
This was followed by a two minute long rant about the forward-sightedness of Muggle researchers in comparison to their wizarding counterparts. He exchanged a look with Kally, the corner of his lips twitching as Hermione completely and utterly failed to notice his utter lack of attentiveness.
Kaylens appeared to be suppressing a giggle.
He'd chalk that up to Black's booze.
Hermione finally quieted, catching her breath, before rounding onto Kaylens. "So, keeping all of that in mind," Harry had half a mind to ask Hermione all of what, but valued his life too much to admit he hadn't been paying attention, "logically Kally you should be brain dead." Hermione said this matter-of-factly, as if it were not a living person she was talking about and instead a specimen in class.
Kaylens, however, went a bit wide eyed.
Hermione didn't notice.
"It's actually quite remarkable that you know your own name let alone Harry's," Hermione continued, snatching up a bag that had appeared out of literal thin air, shuffling through it. "Not to mention your motor skills. You're able to walk and write, and your speech is impeccable. You don't have any single-sided weakness or facial droop going on, and there's absolutely no drooling-"
Harry blinked. "Er…Hermione."
"It's like you have no damage. Which is unlikely. With oxygen deprivation for that long there should have been, even with the magic Harry did. I mean, you were nothing more than a barely working brain stem and-"
"Hermione," Harry tried again.
"-yours only still works thanks to Madame Pomfrey and Regulus being quite skilled, despite his apparent drinking habits." Hermione paused, frowning, "But I was thinking…you don't show any deficits. I mean according to Harry you seem as intelligent as you were before, can do all of your own activities of daily living, and aren't even incontinen-"
"Hermione!"
She looked up so fast her bun fell out.
Harry sighed. "Remember how you're always telling me about tact?"
She looked instantly guilty.
Kally just drug her hands over her face, turning oddly red. Harry spared her a concerned glance, then re-directed his attention back to Hermione.
"I assume there was a point to all of that?"
"Of course!" she said instantly, if not a bit defensive. "Kally lived when she shouldn't have, Harry. She lived because unicorn blood has regenerative properties. Clearly it fixed her damaged neurons."
Harry couldn't help but stare at her. Surely his best friend was smarter than this. "And the part that we don't already know is…?"
Floorboards creaked, Black having returned to lean in the doorframe with a scowl, observing the proceedings.
Hermione tugged out a folder of papers and set them on the table. "Well, it got me thinking…unicorn blood is unsuitable for what we're going for. It comes with the curse of losing your identity, imparting another species' memories into the victim's mind to the point that it drives them mad," she glanced at Kally, hastening, "one you've managed to handle pretty well, all things considering…"
"Yes, she has," Harry grated, his teeth grinding at Hermione only slightly.
Kally dropped her hands away from her face and shot him a look.
He shot her one right back. "You're welcome for saving you from that, by the way. Still waiting for that thank you."
His sweet, forgiving, kind girlfriend attempted to kick him again.
Harry snagged her foot mid-air and dropped it back onto his lap. "You know liquor makes your reflexes shit," he advised. "Absolute shit. You were saying Hermione?"
Kally made a sound like disgruntled grindylow.
And he would know. He'd been living with a whole pack.
Hermione just beamed at being asked anything academic. "Well obviously with all the ill effects that come with it, unicorn blood would be rather ill suited for the mass-casualty use we're hoping to fashion it for. Practicality wise, we don't have time to rehabilitate every person we use it on from its nasty side effects in the way you were able to with Kally."
"A pity. And to think, the ill-bred public would be lining up to get that boy-savior-mind-revitalizing treatment," Black drawled. "The goatish half-wits."
Harry reached for his wand, only for Kaylens to shove her foot over his wrist, preventing that.
Hermione looked oddly impressed. "Goatish? You read Shakespeare." She shook herself. "But Regulus, even if Harry did do that for everyone, there's no guarantee it would work again. The odds of it all going horribly wrong are astronomical. I did the math."
Harry's voice bit dryly into the stale air. "Of course you did."
"But," Hermione continued, "there are other species that have regenerative properties that might work better. Not many, mind you, but a few. Granted they all have downsides, but vampires and phoenixes seem to be the most promising. If we used their blood-"
Harry snorted. "Good luck getting a phoenix to sit still long enough for that." Fawkes might donate some tears – maybe – but he'd seen up close and personal how dangerous Fawkes' talons could be. Not to mention, he still recalled how Fawkes had flat out refused to use his tears on Kaylens months back, at the Battle of Grimmauld.
Phoenixes could be incredibly picky at the most inopportune times.
Hermione was undeterred. "My point, Harry, is one of the things I found that Muggles have been doing," she tapped the folder on the dust covered table, "is an operation called a hypothermic cardiac standstill. It's quite fascinating. When they have a particularly difficult open heart operation or a repair to an aneurysm that is likely to burst while pressurized with blood from a pumping heart, they literally infuse the person with an anticoagulant serum to prevent the blood from clotting. They circulate that within the individual for awhile, then slowly cool their blood lower and lower, until they've dropped the person's internal body temperature down to a hypothermic state. This preserves all of their cellular tissue, allowing it to survive in a hypoxic state-"
"Hypoxic?"
"Low oxygen," Kally murmured, looking dizzy. "So what does any of that have to do with-"
"We can freeze victims with magic!" Hermione practically burst. "If someone gets badly injured we could infuse them with a serum like that, then lower their body temperature with magic. That will keep them alive until we can get them to more definitive care. To be honest, I can't believe it's not being done already. Muggles in the United States are already doing it successfully. Some physician in the Sonoran desert pioneered it. But we just need to create a magically suitable serum that we can inject to prevent the blood from coagulating-"
From the doorway Black snorted with unconcealed derision. "Of course. Wouldn't want to cause a stroke in our precious Order members, now would we?" He made a floppy gesture with his left hand. "How intimidating would our golden team of miscreant rebels be, approaching the Dark Lord's armies with one-sided weakness and limps?"
Harry was a bit lost, but even he knew Black was mimicking disabled people in a terrible way. "Okay….?" He glanced at Hermione for clarification.
He was met with an exasperated look. "Oh for goodness sakes, Harry. What do you do when you're at home with those horrible people? Don't you ever read any of those books I send you?"
"Not really."
Hermione clucked in disappointment. "Well I sent you a wizarding first aid text last summer, given how often you manage to hurt yourself."
Kally's head snapped towards Hermione. Abruptly she leaned on the table, almost missing it and nearly falling out of her chair. Harry managed to grab her in time, Kally gesturing back and forth between her and Hermione. "You and I, we need to talk."
Hermione looked relatively alarmed.
Harry growled in her direction. "Had to drag me under the bus with you."
Hermione hesitated, then fell back on what she did best: talked above everyone else's reading level. "So, Harry, my point is if we could preserve someone long enough, even if their heart is stopped, then perhaps we could experiment with phoenix or vampire blood on them. If we can do that, then perhaps we could use that to restore cellular activity and metabolic function in the brain cells of those who were killed by something other than the killing curse. Maybe we could save them."
He tried to process that, but he was having trouble getting past the whole 'vampire blood' and 'experiment on people' thing.
"We're not turning our team into vampires, Hermione."
"I'm not talking about biting them, Harry. I'm talking about harnessing their regenerative powers into something useful. Not spreading the magical pathogen. That's passed through saliva. They won't turn into one unless they're bit."
"Why in the hell do you even know that?" Kaylens blurted, batting away Harry's attempt to make sure she remained upright in her chair. "Harry, I'm not drunk."
"Sure you're not," he said, skeptical as fuck. Still, he slid his hands back down to her feet.
There really was something about his girlfriend's feet. They were spectacular, even clad in striped socks from the nineteenth century.
"Well? What do you think?" Hermione said, shoving the papers across the table at them, not answering Kaylens question and clearly intending them to just read the file.
Unfortunately the only thing that accomplished was sending a plume of dust into the air, the table covered in a thick layer of decades old build up.
Kaylens sneezed so hard she nearly fell out of her chair again.
Harry lunged and snared her just in time.
When the plume cleared it found Kaylens' chair pulled directly against his, his girlfriend leaning rather contentedly against his shoulder, her fingers plucking at the pages of the research file. To her credit she appeared to be actively trying to read it, despite her squinting.
The sound of drumming fingers filled the room. "Volunteers without a choice, turned into unwitting human guinea pigs with the risk of being turned into monsters. What an interesting way to show benevolence."
The hell of it was that Black sounded like he meant it.
Hermione looked towards the Potions' Master turned Muggle doctor, a sudden uncertainty in her eyes.
Harry took a deep breath. "You're suggesting we experiment on our own people." He wasn't sold.
Hermione actually winced, but then determinedly flipped open another folder that she'd brought with her. "I understand it sounds terrible, Harry. But if they're going to die anyway…we have to try something, don't we?"
Had Hermione suggested this a half year ago he'd have been stunned. He'd have ranted and raved and possibly accused her of being as bad as the Death Eaters. They had to be better than them. But now…
Rather than saving Fleur, he was planning to use the veela as a literal homing beacon to Death Eater Central. All to give the Order an advantage. One that wasn't even guaranteed.
Well shit.
Harry drug his hand through his hair and grimaced. "Fuck… 'Mione, when did you get so…"
"Practical?" The glint in her eyes vanished. "They took my parents, Harry. They killed Sirius. They might as well have killed Kally. They killed Seamus, and Muggle children, and I'm honestly losing count of how many bodies they've left behind. They even killed you, apparently. We don't exactly have a lot of options anymore."
His brow creased deeply, staring into the eyes of his best friend as if he didn't recognize her. He was struck, yet again, by how that brief captivity had changed her.
Hermione tore her eyes away first, something watering within them. "Besides," she said shakily, "I know we can do this. We can increase how many we save this way. I know it's not what I set out to find, but this…it'll buy us time to save people, at the very least." She wet her lips. "Just in case saving Kally was a one-off."
The entire room went silent.
Kaylens, as usual, was the one to break it.
"I like it." She said this as if they were discussing a casual jaunt through the forest. She also appeared to be picking her words very, very carefully, as if articulating were a challenge. "It's better than not doing anything. Besides, isn't experimenting what Riddle's already doing to his people?" She paused. "If you can even call them that still?" She gave a careless shrug with one shoulder. "At least this is to try to help save ours."
Hermione chanced a weak smile in Kaylens' direction.
Kaylens dropped her head onto his shoulder, closing her eyes, making a contented, cat-like sound.
Harry tightened his arm around her, his mouth twitching just a bit. "Alright," he said seriously, "we do that. So what did you need Black and Kaylens here for?"
Hermione was already rooting around in her satchel. "Blood draws. I need Black to do it," she unearthed a sealed needle and several small vials, "and Kaylens to donate. I was thinking if Madame Pomfrey, Malana and I looked at how her human and unicorn blood cells combined under a microscope that we'd know what to look for when trying to replicate it with other species, since her union is obviously working."
Kally's head lifted off his shoulder, squinting. "Malana? Is she still at Hogwarts?'
"Sort of," she evaded. "But she's a researcher by trade. That's how she got caught up in the plague business in Dublin to begin with. I thought she would have told you?"
Kaylens simply shook her head, frowning, but twenty minutes later and Black had drawn her blood and the non-witch had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Harry, being the good boyfriend he was, even adjusted to make sure she didn't accidentally slide off him. Somehow he reckoned her colliding with the floor in a tipsy state would make for a rather long night for him.
Hermione had just finished casting a cooling charm on the blood samples, tucking them neatly into her satchel for transport.
It'd been awhile since he'd seen her. Since the incident in Highgate things had been a bit…strained in their letters.
"So," he broached, "how're things with Krum?"
Hermione's dark eyes darted up, looking surprised.
Black groaned. "For the love of fucking Salazar," he snapped, skulking off, muttering about teenage drama and being unable to take anymore.
The sounds of Black stomping up the rickety stairwell were followed by irate pacing overhead. The entire shack creaked, old floorboards groaning in protest. Harry just smirked. "He falls through the floorboards I'm considering that a bonus and sending Krum a thank you card."
Hermione simply clenched her eyes shut and released a breath through her teeth. "I keep forgetting you know about that."
Harry shrugged. "Makes sense, given the version of me you're actually around all the time doesn't know."
"True…"
He waited. He could be patient. In the meantime he lifted up a hand, running his fingers through Kaylens' long hair, twining it between his fingers while Hermione thought through the best way to approach this. Knowing her she was weighing the pros and cons of all possible responses. Finally…
"That timeturner is making things unnecessarily complicated, Harry." She opened her eyes, peering across the table at him, gaze following the motions of his hand in Kally's hair. "It's a wonder none of us have screwed something irreversible up yet."
"Yeah well, you know me. All my plans go to hell eventually. Give it a week, something's bound to crop up."
The look she afforded him was so scolding she might as well have donned the librarian glasses and taken up the school's vacant post.
"Well?" he prompted.
Upstairs came the distinct sound of someone tripping, followed by several concerning thuds and a crash. Hermione's eyes darted straight to the ceiling, while Harry's remained on her with a confident smirk. "Don't mind him," he said, "he used to be a bit more coordinated. Seems to be going downhill. Reckon Kaylens might be right about it being time for him to start cutting back."
"Yes…" she pursed her lips, glancing at Kally's sleeping form critically. "Though she might want to try a different rehabilitation tactic."
He snorted outright. "Tell me about it. I'll be the one dealing with both their headaches in the morning."
It stank of dust and mold, and the dimly lit candle flickered as if considering going out. Hell, had he and Kaylens been there alone he could have made a romantic night out of the macabre setting. Mood lighting and all.
His best friend must have been thinking along the same lines. "So…everything with you and Kally is okay then?" Hermione gnawed her lip, looking a bit worried. "Nothing got…unsettled?"
"Kaylens and I are solid, Hermione. We're good. If we weren't I'd have a knife in between my ribs rather than a hot chick curled against me. You, however, are dodging." He rose an eyebrow.
Hermione momentarily looked nervous, like she was debating whether to talk or not.
She settled on the talk option.
"Viktor treats me like I'm the only girl in the room, Harry," she said, leaning forward onto the table with a sigh, looking at him for the first time directly. "He opens doors and pulls out my chair. He's the perfect gentleman, if a bit reserved. Honestly, if he wasn't what I know he is, he'd be the perfect wizard to date in terms of his pure, raw physicality-"
Harry choked back some bile and didn't hear the next three disturbingly girlish sentences.
"But…"
She didn't continue.
His eyebrow quirked higher. "But?"
It was like watching a tightly wound rubber band break. "But Merlin it's exhausting." Lifting her hands and shoving them through her wild hair, she blurted, "Do you have any idea what it's like to have to watch literally every word you say, Harry? All. The. Time? The sneaking around so you and Ron won't find out-"
Harry repressed a snort, reminding himself that Hermione had no idea she'd be dating Ron by the end of the year.
"-has been bad enough, but when I'm with him I'm constantly fretting over everything. I have to be casually observant to see if were being followed or who might be listening in, because it could be another Death Eater we don't already know about and Dumbledore wants me to try to identify as many of them as possible. I have to watch to make sure Viktor himself isn't about to try to hurt me, since I never know when his façade is going to drop, let alone if it's a façade with him because he did use to care for me. But honestly Harry, watching for hexing is hard to do when his tongue is constantly down my throat! Not to mention on the occasion we do deign to sit and actually talk, I'm persistently having to plant what Dumbledore and Snape want me to say, so he'll think it's novel information to take back to Vo-You-Know-Who, and I have to do it cleverly."
"Good thing you're clever then," he countered, fighting back irritation at her discomfort with Riddle's name and a gag at the notion of her snogging anyone.
Hell, he'd sort of snogged her and was still grossly uncomfortable with it.
He tugged Kaylens just a little bit tighter against him, his girlfriend expelling a sleepy murmur.
"So what's Dumbledore having you plant," he lifted a hand and made air quotes, "in ole Wronksi Feint's head?"
But at that Hermione simply shook her head. "You know I can't tell you that, Harry. Dumbledore wants information as compartmentalized as possible for everyone's safety."
"Fair enough. Just be careful."
At that a bit of the old Hermione's spark seemed to come back. "You're the time traveler, Harry. You already know I am." She sent him a look so stern it rivaled McGonagall's after they'd been caught dueling that mountain troll at eleven.
He laughed. Loudly. Which was about the end of the serious part of their conversation. Five minutes later found Hermione on her way back through the tunnel to the Whomping Willow, leaving the three of them there in Lupin's old headquarters, all but one candle having flickered out.
It was downright eerie.
"Well," Black finally said, having returned to stare at the passage Hermione had disappeared down, "seems you're all getting a little ruthless. It's about time you developed proper appreciation of tactics." He paused. "That one's willing to turn people into dark creatures. How utterly charming."
Coldly it occurred to Harry that Black was actually right.
Hermione had gotten more ruthless. She was willing to experiment on Order members who had been hurt in the field, rather than sending them to St. Mungo's.
Well shit.
Harry's jaw set, the only comforting thing about any of it the feel of Kalliandra pressed up against him, still sleeping, upright against his side. He still managed a nod. "Hermione's always liked strategy," he ventured, "she just…isn't always very good at it." That had always been Ron's department. Until now Hermione had never really had the stomach for it.
The fact that she suddenly did weighed heavily on him.
Eventually Harry moved, dragging Kaylens slowly up with him, ignoring her tired protests. At one point she actually growled at him. Hell, given how often she did that, he had half a mind to ask her sometime if Reach genetics were somehow mixed with rabies-immunity. Clearly she'd been bit by something at some point, but given she wasn't dead immunity was the only explanation.
She made an unhappy sort of sound, Harry giving in and scooping her legs up off the ground, shaking his head in bemusement.
Having watched their interaction Sirius' ghost outright smirked. "If you wake her up," Black drawled, "you are going to be in for an extremely long night."
"Better not wake her then." And with that…
He apparated them back to Dumbledore's cottage, Black following a second later.
They still had work to do.
Harry was running out of pre-fixed time, and he sure as fuck wasn't going to squander it, because in just under a month he'd have to remove the memories from both Black and Kally, and Harry….
Harry fucking hated that.
Fortunately he had a plan.
ECOTS
April 10th, 1997
A spider web candelabra swung creakily overhead, the fixture moving in the wake of spell fire and the harsh wind let in from the shop's front door. Harry let it thud close behind him, his wand outstretched in front of him, its end sizzling.
"You'd think," he said, "he'd have gotten better about this."
Kally quickly drew the shades over the grime-covered window, wrinkling her nose. "Or have cleaned the window panes. Really, it's been months and it looks like he hasn't touched it."
Harry cast a smirk over his shoulder. "Last time I checked maintaining sterile environments wasn't exactly at the top of the Death Eater pawn shop to do list."
Mr. Borgin lay on the ground, Harry having rendered him unconscious before the bastard had even been able to even register that a wand was aimed at his throat.
Kaylens flicked the shades shut, spinning on her heel to eye him curiously. "You know, this technically is where we met, Potter." She walked over and nudged Borgin with her toe, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Does that count as a first date, or does it not work like that?"
Harry snapped his wand at the door and locked it, casting her a wounded look. "Can't decide if I should be pissed or not. Met you at Madame Maulkins, Kaylens. Not here."
"Yes well," she said, stepping purposefully on Borgin on her way behind the counter, "you didn't seem quite capable of talking to me there, now did you? Mostly just strange stammers and such."
He tossed a notice-me-not charm or seven of them at the store front, growling a little. "You were in a skimpy dress. Can't even call those dress robes. What'd you expect?"
"Multi-syllabic professions of grasping the English language?" she suggested, coming up alongside Black and nudging him over to see what he was looking at.
Black barely mustered a disgruntled utterance, having went for the ledger behind the counter the second Borgin had hit the floor, landing in a suspicious looking stain. Stained with what was the question.
Harry figured he probably didn't want to fixate on that too much if he wanted to sleep tonight. So he didn't.
Instead he muttered about ten muffling and silencing charms at the storefront window and door, wagering things might get loud. That done, he eyed the doorway, spotting a sliver of grimy light spilling in from the street.
In a move reminiscent of Luna Lovegood he snagged the rug and stuffed it beneath. Catching Kaylens' odd look he smirked. "Bloggerwarts," he offered solemnly, lips twitching traitorously. "They're untrustworthy little bastards."
Her lips parted in a silent 'oh' of understanding, her lips twitching rather fetchingly.
Luna had pulled the same move the night he'd asked Kaylens out, and she clearly remembered.
"The boy wonder believes in make believe creatures," Regulus drawled, "with make believe powers." He flipped a page. "We are doomed."
Harry felt a stab of annoyance, then tilted his head at the doorway. "Funny thing about coming back from the dead, Black. You see all kinds of things other people don't. Make believe creatures included." He might not have ever seen an eavesdropping bloggerwart, but he wasn't ever about to discount anything Luna ever said as 'looney' again. Not after seeing those Kogas hovering above his bed in the hospital wing, their feet in one world and feathers and beaks in the next.
"Like," he stated, "I care."
Kaylens just had an odd expression, mouthing, you're seeing things? She didn't look judgmental, just curious.
Why? he mouthed. Thinking of turning me in?
She let out a small breath, rolling her eyes as if to say As if! before turning back to what Black was looking at.
Harry grinned at her for a second, then resumed securing the location. It was early morning, not even dawn, but they figured it was the perfect time to both find Borgins getting ready to open his shop, while ensuring there were the least number of witnesses to what they were about to do.
After all, Knockturn Alley always had been a night life part of town. Its vagrants weren't exactly early risers.
Bearing that in mind, Harry looked around the storefront for other potential points of entry, gaze landing on the fireplace connected to the Floo network.
Anyone could come through it
"Either of you happen to know how to shut down a Floo connection?" he asked hopefully.
Nothing.
"You know, just in case Voldemort decides to Floo in for a quick morning cuppa with his favorite ex-employer."
Still nothing.
He shot the oblivious Black and Kaylens an annoyed look. They ignored it. He scowled. "I'll just take care of this then?" he said, jabbing his wand in its general direction.
Kally gave a vague murmur of agreement, sneaking a peak at the page behind the one Black was reading, Sirius' ghost rewarding her with a sharp slap to the knuckles.
His girlfriend grumbled.
Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose before turning his attention back to the problem at hand. He hadn't a clue how to disable a fireplace connected to the Floo network. They were in Knockturn Alley, had just attacked the proprietor of Borgin and Burkes….again, and if caught they'd be in serious trouble with the Ministry.
Or worse: Knockturn Alley's regulars.
Then there was always the very disturbing possibility of Voldemort himself coming by for a morning cup of coffee with Borgins.
Harry rapidly decided that he needed more sleep. Kaylens and that leg of hers that slid literally all over him had proven distracting as hell the previous night. His girl's sleeping habits asides, all it would take for all three of them to get caught was one person coming through the Floo network.
Well shit.
Ultimately he didn't try to seal it.
He just blew it up.
The muffling charm he used on the windows and doors worked fairly effectively, but it didn't stop the loud blast of sound from erupting within the store itself. Kaylens jumped a good foot. Harry just spun his wand smugly in hand, glancing at the rubble that had once been a fireplace, and grinned at her. "Problem solved. Everything okay luv?"
Kaylens gaped at him. "Harry," she said as if awed, "you just blew up the wall."
"Only," he corrected, "a little bit of it."
Black, to his credit, had not even looked up from the ledger. "Potter, since the definition of discrete has clearly escaped you, perhaps you would consider making yourself useful?"
"Why the hell not," he said. For once Harry was entirely on board with whatever Black had planned. Hell, the ex-Death Eater had him on board the moment he'd suggested breaking into the shop and quite possibly giving Borgins a head injury. Harry still held a slight grudge from when the asshole had tried to hex Kaylens last year.
They also had limited time to follow up on this lead. Knockturn Alley's shoppers might not be early risers, but they wanted to be in and out of the shop before it technically opened.
Black read his mind. "Then if you would," Casper drawled, flipping the ledger pages without peering up, "drag that in the back," that being Borgin's unconscious body, "and ransack the storage and records. We need to see if there's anything else in here that came along with this." Black uncurled his fingers, revealing the locket that had hung around Hazel Scott's neck for so many years.
After over two months of reading through what was left of Voldemort's old diary and the old record books they'd procured from the Hogwarts library, they'd finally gotten around to examining the horcrux they'd most recently destroyed, and when they had….
They'd found the mark of Borgin and Burkes on it.
It meant the locket had clearly been pawned there. And it just so happened that good ole Riddle had once worked there.
It was the first lead any of them had had in awhile.
And according to Black, Borgins and Burkes kept impeccable records. At least…they did of all sales that were legal. When the ledgers were absolutely full it made it difficult for the authorities to accuse them of doctoring the documents, which they of course did. But since horcruxes were made out of ordinary, everyday objects, there was no reason to think that they hadn't logged the sale of the locket somewhere.
It explained why Harry was smirking, in an unusually pleasant mood. "Ransacking? Seems like more of Kaylens' thing, but what the hell." He shot his girlfriend a wink, heading behind the counter and making sure to step on Borgin in the process. It was the thing to do after all. Once behind the counter he rather shamelessly smacked Kaylens on the ass, before disappearing through a gawdy curtain and into the back room.
A flick of his wand sent Borgins levitating after him.
He caught sight of Black's head darting up, the wizard's words unnaturally calm. "Did that indolent just spank you?"
Kaylens tried and failed to repress a laugh.
Harry had come to learn that Sirius' brother had very distinctive lines that should not be crossed. Tossing a rock at his head for a snarky remark? They were good. A bit of poison slipped into his morning breakfast? A non-issue. Tossing a hex around the bastard, dangerously near his ear, so as to knock Borgins out? Completely and totally fine. Random explosions of part of the wall not three meters from where the bastard stood reading? No problem. Smacking Kaylens on the ass within his vicinity?
He'd found the line.
The wizard snarled, grabbing Kaylens by the sleeve before spinning her blindly around and shoving her through the beaded curtain, muttering about curses he'd like to try out on the two 'handsy delinquents' beneath his breath.
Kaylens stumbled in looking incredibly amused.
Harry released the spell and dropped Borgins to the ground. He thudded like a sack of flour, only this type of flour cracked. Harry wasn't particularly bothered by this. He was too busy looking around.
The back room of Borgins and Burks looked like a dark wizard garage sale. Random fold out tables were piled high with random boxes and baubles, several supply cabinets filled with liquids – some of which still appeared to be bubbling – stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and something appeared to be scuttling in the walls. The only sign of an organizational paradigm was a sadistic sort of flagging system with what looked suspiciously like color coded rat tails.
Hermione would have positive fits.
Rather like Black was. Harry could hear him flipping pages of the most recent ledger with such ferocity that pages were ripping, while muttering comfortingly to himself about all the deadly, dark objects within his immediate reach that he could shove down Harry's 'gullet.'
In the dim lighting Harry caught Kaylens' eyes. "You ever get the feeling Black doesn't like us?" He smirked haughtily. "Because really, he's just brimming with joy."
Kaylen seemed to study him for a moment, a flash of amusement in her irises. "Since when has horcrux hunting put you in such a good mood?" she finally inquired, hazel eyes flickering around the room searchingly, before settling on a file cabinet. "Usually does the opposite. You get all…surly."
Harry just shrugged. "Incarcerous," he muttered, ropes whipping out and binding Borgins face down on the ground. "Since we were at the halfway point to being done with our sadistic game of 'soul toy hide-n-seek' and my girlfriend actually seems to stand a real chance of killing the one in my head? Then again, might just be that trick you did you with leg last night."
"Mmm," she murmured agreeably, "there is that." She trailed her fingertips along the cobweb-covered files, flicking a particularly nasty looking spider off and into the wall.
Harry glanced at where it had splattered, leaving a distinctive red and green smear. "Those are venomous you know."
"Only if they bite you." She plucked a file labeled '1944-1947' off the shelf and smacked it against her leg, dust and several small flecks flaking off it.
The disturbing bit was that the flecks scuttled beneath the cabinet the second they hit the floor.
Then his girlfriend sat right down amongst them and began to leaf through the file, the very embodiment of the phrase 'and zero fucks were given.' As usual Kaylens harbored a complete and total lack of concern for her well-being.
It was hot.
"Fuck," he muttered, crouching down over Borgins and searching the bastard, "marry me, Kaylens. Seriously."
The scoff she emitted was so derisive he'd have been wounded if they hadn't already had this conversation a half dozen times before. "Keep asking like that," she muttered, "and I'll keep telling you no." She appeared to be speed reading in the dark; unicorn-enhanced vision for the win.
"Can't help but notice that you've never actually said no," Harry pointed out, patting down Borgin's coat.
"Mmm, funny that."
Now it was Harry's turn to cast her a dry look, his girlfriend smiling impishly.
Really, this had become a recent game of theirs.
Problem was he was quite serious.
Harry continued his game of 'frisk the Death Eater' and found a suspicious looking vial of vicious purple liquid in the bastard's left pocket. He removed it carefully. Knowing Borgin if that got smashed it might unleash a toxic gas that would make the venomous spiders currently crawling up his girlfriend's leg seem trivial.
Speaking of, underneath the filing cabinet where the majority of the spiders had scuttled came the sounds of a struggle, several thumps, followed by what suspiciously sounded like the squeaking death throes of a rat.
"Poor mousey," Kaylens muttered, almost absently.
"Moving," he muttered, finding a dagger tipped in blue slime in Borgin's boot and discarding it onto the floor, "hasn't even occurred to you, has it?"
She made an absent sound clearly indicating her complete and utter inattention.
Harry fisted his grip in what was left of Borgin's hair and lifted the man's head up, just in case he had some sort of weaponized ear piece, and found nothing. So Harry accidentally dropped the Death Eater's head back to the floor, it smacking the concrete so loud there was bound to be a concussion involved. Not that Harry cared.
Finally satisfied that Borgin's was disarmed, Harry pocketed the bastard's wand and stood up just in time to see a spider about to drop down onto her head.
He rewarded its efforts by blasting it into the wall.
"Mmm, thanks love." She didn't bat an eye.
"Swear to fucking Christ," he growled, stalking over and grabbing her by both arms, jerking her back to her feet. "Read literally anywhere else." He blindly reached out and snared his own stack of spider-covered files, smashing them against the wall for good measure, before he hog marched the non-witch-trying-to-ensure-he-suffered-a-coronary into a back office.
Surprisingly it was much, much cleaner.
Given how bare it was, concrete floor, nothing on the walls, and no cabinets, that wasn't hard to accomplish. A single Muggle light bulb buzzed overhead, clearly enchanted to provide reading light in this little used space.
It was also devoid of spiders; Ron would probably still squirm.
It occurred to him that he missed his friends.
Harry kicked the door shut, tossed his stack of files down on the pristine looking desk, muttered a terse warning at Kaylens to not open or even think about touching any of the drawers – the damn non-witch was more of a magnet for trouble than he was – and began reading.
Kaylens had already perched herself atop the literal desk, that single lightbulb swinging a mere half meter above her head, and begun to read.
And that's how they stayed for the next hour.
At some point Black had woken up Borgins. Granted, Harry couldn't be entirely certain given he didn't go out to exactly check, but the screaming was a dead giveaway.
He really hoped their muffling charms held, otherwise they'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do to the Aurors.
Borgins let out a gurgling howl, as if choking on his own blood. Harry ignored this, idly wondering when the sounds of someone being tortured had stopped arousing alarm in him.
"What about this?"
Kally was obviously as non-bothered as him, his non-witch having glanced up, eyes catching his in the harsh lighting. He shifted in his chair, leaning up to politely look at what she was pointing at.
1944 – locket and bracelet set – Tom Marvolo Riddle
Harry actually frowned. Could it really be that easy? He glanced up at Kaylens, quirking an eyebrow.
She quirked one right back. "Well? Dumbledore said he liked symmetry and symbolism and all that tripe." She gestured at the ledger. "If he turned the locket into a horcrux maybe he did the same with the bracelet it came with." She paused. "Question is who he'd give it to?"
Harry honestly didn't have the slightest clue. But fuck, maybe they were finally getting somewhere.
"Probably looks like the locket at least…" Kally was musing aloud. "Set usually do. Might make it a little easier to find."
Harry set his own ledger down – one titled 1940 to 1944. "Why do you know that?"
Kally's crystalline eyes flickered up. "Why would you get a jewelry set that didn't match?" she said, perfectly serious.
Harry eyed her like she were a strange and new species. "Sometimes I forget you're a girl."
Her eyes narrowed. "Remind me to make you sleep in the other room."
"Uh huh," he said, not taking her threat seriously at all.
Something slammed up against the office door, the thin drywall shaking. Dust flaked down from the ceiling and Kaylens eyed it suspiciously. "Looks like Casper's having fun…"
"Least he has a hobby that doesn't involve wine."
"True…" she said. "Seems like he does have a lot of rage to get out. Might be best to let him."
"A decade and a half on the run will do that to you." The bastard probably had as many reasons to hate Death Eaters as he did.
Kaylens was drumming her fingers on the ledger from 1944, her nose crinkled thoughtfully. "What was he interrogating Borgins about again?"
"Fuck if I know."
Kaylens snorted, Harry equally ambivalent. The entire plan for the day had been to come here and look through Borgin and Burkes' ledgers, on the off chance there was something useful. Black had also mentioned possibly having a little 'chat' with his old friend.
That old friend made a groaning, dying sound from the other side of the wall.
Kally's eyes lifted from the ledger, looking at the door. "You don't think he'll actually kill him, do you?"
"Does it matter?"
"When it makes us accessories, yes."
She had a point. Not that Harry particularly cared about what happened to Death Eaters, but he had enough people trying to kill him without the Ministry looking into Borgin's untimely and run-of-the-mill homicide.
Plus, he really didn't need the Ministry of Magic looking at his girlfriend closely. At all.
"Casper!" he shouted, motivated mainly by the preservation of his sex life. "We found something."
The dull sounds of a beating stopped abruptly.
ECOTS
April 17th, 1997
They hadn't made much progress since, unless you counted obliviating Borgins to within an inch of his life and depositing him in front of the destroyed fireplace – according to Hermione the Daily Prophet had reported the bastard's injuries as being due to a 'Floo network malfunction' - but at the very least they had identified another likely horcrux.
Harry went over the list in his head: Nagini, a bracelet, and him still needed killed. Between them and Dumbledore they already had killed the diary, the tree, the compass, the galleon in Bellatrix's hand, a pocket watch, and Hazel's locket.
They had hopefully identified nine now.
That left four more to go, seven more to kill.
Easy.
What wasn't easy was Kaylens. Things with them had been good. Too fucking good. Almost four months with her in total isolation, once he got past the fungal infection known as Black that pestered them with things like reality, had made it so the thought of being without her for even a day had his stomach feeling physically ill.
In a few days he'd be without her again for three months.
Harry's stomach clenched and he drug his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
Sure they'd been researching. Sure they'd been training. Sure they'd been coming up with contingency plans. They sure as fuck hadn't been idle. Yet he still felt they needed more fucking time.
Waking up with her every fucking day here…it'd been like living someone else's life.
He wanted that to last more than anything.
Which was what had him thinking on how to make that last. Black might have obliviated the Scotts, for their own good, but they'd still offered Kaylens another life, another option, another out.
Harry wasn't an idiot. After all this was over, assuming it ever was, the Ministry of Magic would probably still exist. They'd still want to kill people like her. There would still be prejudicial asses like that woman in the Three Broomsticks, who had said Kaylens needed put down as if she were some type of rabid animal.
Even if everything went perfectly for their side, even if he killed Voldemort and somehow lived through it, even if Kaylens got control of her magic and reduced the risk of overdrawing again to near zero, if she stayed in the wizarding world she'd still be in danger on a daily damn basis.
The Scotts had offered her an out, yet Kaylens…
She hadn't mentioned it; not once.
Then there was the whole issue of her not remembering any of this.
It was enough to make him want to hit things.
Harry shoved himself up in bed and groaned. It was early. That owl, nearly fully recovered now, fluffed its wings from its corner, hooting at him quietly. "Yeah," he grumbled, "morning."
It just hooted again, Harry blinking tiredly at it. "Where's the other one of you?" He dropped his feet to the ground, aware that Fawkes was already gone.
Kaylens' owl just hoo-ed in response.
He scoffed. "Lot of help you are…" He stood and stretched, before leaving the room in search of Kaylens.
He found her just outside the cottage, sitting on the rocky beach, her feet in the surf, waiting for the sun to come up.
ECOTS
An utterly endearing thing about sitting on uncomfortable rocks was they made it almost impossible for someone to sneak up on you. They had this horrid tendency to crunch underfoot.
Kally heard him before he got anywhere close. "I really hope," she said, "that's Harry and not Regulus." Closing her eyes and letting the sea breeze brush against her skin, she murmured, "It's far too early to interpret the latter's acerbic philosophizing. And if it's neither and some Death Eater then just go away. I haven't had coffee yet."
The tired snort told her exactly who it was. "You don't drink coffee."
Her lips turned ever-so-slightly. "True, but they don't know that."
A low chuckle cut through the twilight, Harry picking his way across the rocks until he reached her. It was still dark out, only a few slivers of reddish-orange light spilling across the water. In the dark the North Sea appeared almost black.
Harry's bare feet stopped alongside her, something in her warming at the sight. Kally wasted no time in leaning back on her hands, craning her neck to look up at him. Her gaze flicked between his toes and his face. "Boycotting socks?"
For a second Potter just looked at her, before a tired smile creeped onto his face. "Nah," he told. "Just sleeping with this hot chick. Non-witch has a tendency to kick off her own socks. Suspect she's progressed to stealing mine."
Then he gave his bare toes a pointed wiggle.
Her lips parted, aghast. "The hot chick resents that."
"Resent away." The corner of his mouth twitched, dark stubble covering his chin, his voice roughened with sleep.
The tenor of it made her positively shiver.
Then again that might have been the icy water that touched her toes. Kally outright shuddered at that. "Maybe," she mused, pulling her legs away from the surf just a little, "our favorite elf overheard we'd been talking with Hermione, and decided to steal them." Biting down on her lower lip, she mock seriously added, "You know, for the good of elf kind." Harry had told her all about how Hermione had terrorized the house elves of Hogwarts, hiding socks in random parts of Gryffindor Tower, to the point they'd refused to clean it after all.
Harry just shook his head, dark hair sticking up messily from the pillow. "Piss poor argument, Kaylens. Dobby's already free. He doesn't give a shit about finding socks."
"Ah, so…" allowing her eyes to slide down his form, Potter oddly still shirtless, pajama pants clinging to his hips, she countered, "even if you are somehow blaming that on me, still doesn't explain why you're shoeless."
Potter tilted his head, dark hair falling into his eyes. "Isn't it obvious?"
She quirked an eyebrows.
"Some old woman living in a boot stole them."
Kally fought back a smile. "Potter," she said slowly, as if talking to an invalid, "I know Hermione was horrified at your lack of childhood and sent you those fairy tales to read-"
"More like to torture and later quiz me on."
"-but your comprehension skills need work."
He shrugged. "I seriously strike you as the fairy tale kind of guy, Kaylens?"
She did him the courtesy of pretending to consider it. "Well…I would have said no, but you are standing out on a beach, outside a secret cottage, about to watch the sunrise with your girlfriend. Be honest Potter, that's almost story book quality."
"Oh? So that's what we're doing."
"Well, that and brooding."
Potter's eyebrows creased together, looking baffled. "About what?"
Placing a finger to her lips, she made a soft shushing sound, falling oddly quiet. Harry might have found her, but she honestly did not want to think or talk about why she had come out here to begin with. Because in a few days he was going to obliviate her, and she wasn't going to remember a thing about this cottage or this place.
This beautiful, beautiful place.
Or worst of all….him.
And she wanted to remember him; she really did.
She looked away, watching sea foam churn against the lightening backdrop. For a long moment the only sound was the sea, its waves striking against rock, washing up the embankment as far as the tide allowed. Every so often it washed up high enough to touch her toes, painted green today. Seagulls occasionally cawed, the repetitive sound echoing, stretching across the endless expanse of coastline. It was almost haunting.
Harry, to his credit, was content to remain silent.
Eventually he sat down alongside her, kicking some of the smaller rocks and pebbles out of the way as he got comfortable.
Only then did Kally notice that he had a shirt in hand. It was crumpled in his fist, like he was stressed. Her eyes flickered to him, nodding at it. "You know, usually people put those on."
Dark green eyes, steady as stone, slid to meet hers. "Complaining?"
Kally reached out a hand and pointedly flicked his chest.
Harry responded by eyeing the spot as if a mosquito had bit him.
And then the surf washed up and touched their feet.
Potter recoiled so fast that it was like he'd been hexed. Kally clamped down on her lower lip, stifling a small laugh at his contorted expression.
"Fuck Kaylens," he muttered, "that is cold."
She widened her eyes, goosebumps having already broken out over her legs, and dead panned, "Thought it was quite tropical myself." Spotting the look he was sending her, she added, "Really Potter, you're the one who keeps swimming in it with all those stone friends of yours Black keeps making for you."
"Friends? How about homicidal constructs."
Wiggling her feet to get the water droplets off them, she couldn't help the faint smile touching her face. "Homicidal constructs? Is that what you're calling them?" She tisked, glancing slyly at him. "And here I thought you and Estonia, Gruntworthy and Stonehedge were on a first name basis by now. Isn't that what happens when guys beat on one another? Instant friends for life?"
Harry stared at her, incredulous. "You named the transfigured boulders?"
"Awfully rude not to."
Harry's only response was to groan, before shrugging into his shirt.
Kally gave an overly loud sigh of disappointment.
He simply growled.
"What?" she questioned without a trace of innocence. "I only get to appreciate this for a few more days, Potter. Have pity on a girl."
Then it struck her; what she'd just said. A few more days….
And just like that the horrid emptiness was back.
Kalliandra closed her eyes and just breathed. The salty scent of the air was so thick she could taste it, the sea oddly pleasant on the tip of her tongue. What swirled in her mind though…
It was anything but.
All of this…everything her and Harry had been through together was going to disappear in a few days. Four months gone with a touch of his wand.
It honestly scared her; it hadn't before.
Harry had recognized that something was wrong the second he finished shoving his head through his shirt's neck hole. "Kaylens," he said, "you're making that face."
She made a small sort of growling sound, like the kind you'd hear poking a stick blindly down a hole at an already disgruntled creature.
He was impervious to it. "Seriously, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, Harry. Don't worry about it." The words sounded hollow even to her own ears.
There was silence, and then a scoff. "Oh yeah, because I'm so good at that."
She said nothing in response; what was there to say? She was just glad he was out there, sitting with her, even if he was getting dressed.
Potter finished fighting with his shirt and observed her for a second. She could practically feel the wheels in his mind turning as he looked at her. His scrutiny lasted so long that she inevitably glanced over at him, finding the wizard's eyes dangerously narrowed, an intensely thoughtful look on his face.
The only warning she had was the twitch of his little finger.
Harry grabbed her before she could so much as blink, the wizard jerking her across the rocks, Kally up and draped over his lap so fast – like she didn't weigh anything at all to him – that she could barely let out a startled breath before it was done.
An unamused set of malachite eyes bored into her own like lasers. "Out with it, Kaylens." Firm, hard hands were on her, Harry's hand sliding up her side. His brow was creased so deep it looked like it might physically hurt to make the expression. Yet he did it anyway.
When she didn't answer right away a low growl rose from somewhere deep inside his chest, rumbling his entire torso. "Kally…I know you…"
His voice was low and deep, rough like it always was in the morning. It was enough to make her nearly shiver. "Potter," she said, "you should talk to me more when you've just woken up."
There was a moment's delay as Harry processed what she meant, his hand flexing against her side.
Then he got it, sniffing and deciding he really didn't give a damn.
"Stop dodging, Kaylens."
She let out a long breath of her own. "Potter, it's not…" she whispered, as if afraid to speak too loudly. "There's nothing you can actually do about it."
"Try me."
The words were intractable, firm. For a moment she wasn't certain how to react.
Eventually she just wet her lips, placing a hand on his chest, fingers curling against his shirt. Where she was, sitting partially on him, partially on the rocks, was strangely comfortable. The sigh she let out spoke volumes. "I'm just…not exactly looking forward to losing my memory of everything," she admitted. Her eyes flickered up to find his, green studying gold, her stomach in positive knots. "I'm just…worried."
The effect of her confession was instant.
Harry's expression darkened, something unreadable in his gaze. She didn't like it. In fact, she hated it. His mouth opened, a half-growl already coming out-
She cut him off, words soft. "Harry, it's alright. I get it." And she did. He died soon enough in her timeline, just like she nearly had in his. Only in his case both her and Regulus saved him. They were the reason that he was alive, able to sit with her right now.
If she remembered that he survived it, she might not do what she originally did. Regulus might not either. They might not respond in the same way, or try as hard, and if they changed even one small thing Harry would be gone.
Retaining her memory wasn't worth that.
They'd already been over this, the three of them, more than once.
Her fingertips curled against his shirt, as if to reassure herself that he was there, with her, firm and solid.
Harry released a tense breath, studying her for a long, long moment. Finally… "Any consolation," he said, voice still roughened with sleep, "I'm not exactly a fan of this either."
"I know."
Still he looked at her, that same unreadable shadow in his eyes. "I don't want you to be scared," he said.
"Bit hard," she admitted, "when you're about to lose four months of memory." She gave his shirt a pathetic tug, fingertips grazing the skin beneath. "If something happens to you I won't even…I'll never know." Her breathing was shaky, but she lifted her eyes back to meet his. "You're going after Death Eaters. You're trying to put a tracking chip in Fleur at a place where you died, Harry. I'm having a little bit of trouble with that. But…I get why you want to. I just..." she shook her head, giving his shirt another small, pointed tug. "Don't want to lose this." And by this…
She meant him.
She meant every stupid sodding thing they'd been through together.
He'd told her he loved her.
He'd went back in sodding time for her.
He'd gotten to know her, because before…they'd never had enough time to simply sit and talk. And now that they finally had….
It was going away. She wouldn't remember a thing.
Beneath her hand Harry's chest vibrated, her eyes flickering in confusion.
Harry, the ass, was chuckling.
Her lips parted to presumably hiss-
He cut her off.
"You're distracting as hell, Kaylens," he told, lifting his hand and dropping it over hers. "But stop. I promised you something, and I sure as hell don't intend to break it."
His voice had dropped as he spoke, the rough pad of his thumb brushing over her knuckles. He had promised…he'd promised that he'd find a way to make sure she remembered the important things. In the cemetery, trapped in that crypt together, he had promised her that.
But that had been before everything had gone to complete and total hell.
It seemed like an impossible task, and yet…she believed him.
It still seemed so, so fantastical.
She wet her lips. "You couldn't possibly have figured out-"
His lips twitched. "What's the matter, Kaylens? Seriously think I don't have a plan after three months?" He paused. "Shocking as it might be I actually do think ahead sometimes."
Despite her trepidation she tilted her head, inquisitive.
He countered with a slightly smug smirk. "Sorry Kaylens, but it wouldn't be much of a plan if I told you ahead of time, now would it? You might…protest."
Now she was really curious.
As usual he practically read her mind, shooting her a challenging look. "What? You do that a lot."
She lightly smacked his chest. "You couldn't' possibly have found a pensieve that large."
"Not exactly." Something peculiar entered his eyes. "Let's just say the less you know, the better, alright? In the meantime…" his hand reached up, brushing against her cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Stop worrying about that of all things. I've got it covered. Besides…" he hesitated, "I wanted to talk to you about something else."
She wasn't sure when her boyfriend had become so cavalier about obliviation, but she was curious.
Harry shifted, his arm sliding firmly around her waist, words hard. "It's about what Helga Scott suggested you do. Her offer."
Her offer to help her leave.
To leave the wizarding world, and never come back.
Instantly her heart skipped, spine stiffening. "There's nothing to talk about."
"I think there is." He met her eyes steadily. Kally sat there, literally draped across his legs, the black rocks of the beach slowly lightening as red light began to spill over them. Harry had one arm firmly around her form, his other hand fiddling with her hair as if it were a novel new toy he'd just been given, yet his gaze was dead steady, everything within it entirely serious.
Amazing how a few words could send a flood of stress through her very veins.
Her family was dead; she didn't want to talk about some distantly related Scotts.
Unfortunately, Harry didn't look ready to drop it.
"Like what, Potter?" she sounded tired.
"Like the fact that you could have a family…one that isn't terrible."
She let go of his shirt, scoffing. "Yeah…a woman who wishes that I was her dead daughter and a dog." The look she gave made it very clear exactly what she thought of that. "Not to mention that I don't know them."
"You could."
"I'm of age, Potter. I don't need a family to go home to."
"Everyone needs a family."
She took a deep breath. "Harry, they want me to leave the wizarding world for the Muggle one. Completely discounting the whole plague thing going on, what reason could I possibly have for doing that? There's nothing left for me there. Hell," shaking her head, "there's even less there for me than in the wizarding one."
Potter's expression changed in an instant. "Gee…thanks."
She visibly winced. "That came out wrong."
"Ya think?" The stone-like gaze looking back at her looked annoyed.
He was hurt.
She hissed a breath. "I just meant that everyone I love there is gone, Harry. At least here I still have some left."
Potter went quiet for a long moment, but his hand slid up and down her back, his fingers unconsciously kneading the skin along either side of her spine.
He was completely and utterly infuriating.
Eventually Kally's eyes drifted shut, and when Harry finally spoke his words rumbled out like thunder. "Nothing left there…" he repeated, as if mulling it over. "So what? No friends? No boyfriends?"
He was teasing her, dropping the subject so she'd feel better. She smiled a sly little smile. "Like I'd tell you."
A pause.
Then Harry shifted, his breath, warm and comforting against her ear. "What's the matter Kay, don't trust me?"
She let out a breathy little laugh. "Kay?"
"Trying another something," he said far too casually. "Question stands."
She shook her head slowly. "No. You'd probably try to kill them anyway."
"I'd only maim them," he promised, "a little."
"Hmph."
At some point Harry's hand had slid up to the back of her neck, it incredibly relaxing. Her own fingers fell to trail against his leg, brushing against the rocks they sat on.
"So?" he asked. "Old boyfriends…how many murder raps am I going to have to dodge?"
She cracked her eyes, peering at him, a tiny smile on her lips. "You realize," she said, rehashing something she already had, "I didn't exactly date before you, yeah?" She paused. "Mister Yule Ball."
Harry flinched. "Please," he muttered, "don't remind me of that." Spotting her look, he rushed, "It sucked. Majorly."
She shot him a skeptical look.
"They made me waltz."
The corners of her lips twitched. "Now there's an idea."
For a moment he looked horrified, as if someone had just handed him a blood contract condemning him to work with Snape for life, whilst happily requesting he scrawl his approval on it, in big red letters, right beneath the Minister of Magic's name.
Then Harry growled, dragging a hand up her arm. "Seriously Kaylens…you didn't think about it?" And suddenly she knew they were no longer joking about past dates. "You never even considered leaving? Not even on your own?"
A bit of tension slid back into her form. "Of course I did. For about a minute." Harry remained silent, patiently waiting, Kally giving his shirt a frustrated tug. "What'd be my end game though? No high school diploma, no family, no friends. I'd wind up working in some gas station and the most exciting part of my day would be making coffee." She widened her eyes pointedly, whispering, "And Harry…I make terrible coffee."
He smirked. "Thought you didn't drink coffee?"
"My brother did."
He stopped, looking like he was filing away a new piece of information for later use. "So let me get this straight: you got up before the rest of your family, like a good little sister, to make your big brother coffee."
The glare she shot him could have frozen the equator. "Potter…"
"That's ridiculously cute."
"Shut up."
His expression sobered. "You wouldn't wind up in a gas station, Kaylens."
She arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Harry, even if Hogwarts was willing to forge something for me out of pity, I'm not exactly graduating from there. I'm not graduating from anywhere. I'm not a witch. I won't have any real skills beyond potions. That's hardly marketable in the Muggle world. What am I going to put on a resume? No real skills but can wrangle a hoard of acerbic, bickering wizards effectively without getting caught in their cross-spellfire?" Clearly seeing his expression, she narrowed her eyes critically. "You're just realizing you're dating a high school dropout, aren't you?"
"Yeah…"
"And?"
Potter looked far too pleased. "Kind of makes you hotter. Rebellious. Still wondering why you aren't interested in leaving."
She hissed a breath. "Harry, why are you….I mean…do you want me to leave?"
He balked. "Hell no."
She wanted to throw up her hands, but didn't. "So why are you trying to so hard to convince me to?"
"I'm not. I just…I just need to make sure that if your ass tries, that it won't without me." His brow creased heavily. "Not sure I could handle waking up to find that you'd left," he said seriously.
"Harry…" she sighed exasperatedly. "Point is leaving isn't exactly ideal. I'd lose my chance of a life. Remus, you, Dean, Black. Even the remotest chance of a job."
He closed his eyes and groaned. "Please tell me when we get married that Black isn't going to be a daily part of life?"
She opened her mouth to respond, but only a strange, sputtering sound came out.
Harry took it like he always did: like it was normal.
Nothing about this, about them was normal. Kally was acutely, terribly aware of this. And still…the sodding warmth twisting around inside her…
Finally she managed to articulate something resembling English. "Do you seriously think I'd want to leave you?" she asked quietly. "That I'd even consider it?"
He looked at her strangely. "Kaylens," her name came out like she we're the dumbest creature in existence, "clearly I haven't been obvious enough. Not talking about you leaving. Talking about us leaving, because like hell," he shifted on the rocks, jostling her, "would I let you leave without me. I'd go with you."
She could only stare.
He shrugged. "Don't look so surprised. Gets me away from sociopaths hellbent on trying to kill me, crazed Ministry officials, Snape, and even worse yet…" he leaned in closer. "Reporters."
She frowned, puzzled. "Reporters?"
"You know, like Skeeter?"
"Skeeter?" Merlin it was like he was speaking some secret language. "Is that a wizarding paper? Like the one Hermione gets at breakfast?"
A rather stunned look overtook Harry's face, as if just realizing something.
"We haven't had that conversation yet," he said slowly, "have we?"
"What conversation?"
And then, despite every heavy thing they'd been talking about, Harry started to laugh.
His fit of laughter lasted for awhile. Every so often she could catch a muttered word, like beetle, blackmail, Quick-Notes, and love triangle.
Kally hissed an exasperated breath. "Potter…"
He tried valiantly to get control of himself, but another laugh just snorted up his nose and he nearly choked.
Despite herself her lips twitched, Kally rolling her eyes in bemusement. "The Great Potter, survived multiple dark wizards attack and being number one on snake face's hit list, done in by a snort." She said this like a newscaster doing a broadcast.
He snorted harder.
Some minutes later Harry had dropped back on the rocks, the wizard dragging her with him and tugging her up against his side. He was still chuckling fiercely. "Shit Kaylens," he muttered, nuzzling the top of her head with his, "I forget…you don't know everything yet."
"Mmm, then tell me something I don't know."
"Just consider this my preemptive apology for any hounding you might get for dating my ass." He chuckled. "Angry letters in the mail. Love triangle accusations. Beetle infestations…."
And that was all he would say on the matter, his chest vibrating as he laughed quietly.
Kally wrinkled her nose in annoyance. She still reached up, threading her fingers through his hair, the sun finally almost all the way up. "You're an absolute git, Potter."
He snorted, looking far too pleased with himself.
"Know what else?" she said, giving a strand of his black hair a small tug.
"Yeah?"
"Your bed head is epic."
Her boyfriend growled like a carnivorous wolf.
Then he kissed her, and Kally honestly forgot why she'd been so worried in the first place.
ECOTS
April 22nd, 1997 – 10:32 p.m.
"So…right about now I'm technically dying."
Harry lay sprawled out on the rocky embankment, left leg bent at the knee and the other just sort of there. His left arm was folded behind his head, his right one wrapped around the non-witch he was on a technical four-month-long date with. "Yup."
Tonight was the night. It was the night he, Tonks and Moody had planned to do their first animagus transformation. It was the night that Kaylens and Black had wandered into the Forbidden Forest to go mushroom hunting. It was the night Death Eaters found them and tried to kill them both. It was the night Harry watched the killing curse blast the ground apart inches in front of his girlfriend's face. And that was all before he'd gotten around to tearing the male Carrow into fucking pieces, time travelling back so he could save Kaylens, playing 'field trauma surgeon' with Umbridge, fighting Voldemort, sort of killing Voldemort, and then dealing with Voldemort's pissed off spirit trying to steal his horcrux and what was left of Bellatrix's hand back.
And Kaylens still had nearly died.
Meanwhile the other version of himself was patiently waiting for Kaylens to get back from potions, staying up late in Gryffindor Tower. This version though was laying outside, star gazing with his girlfriend for their last few hours before he had to wipe her mind.
Black was waiting inside, drinking. As usual.
At least the heat-enchanted blanket they were laying on was comfortable, the sounds of the North Sea relaxing.
Kaylens fingers traced unintelligible patterns across his chest. "I still can't believe you turned Umbridge into a practice dummy."
Harry shot a look down at the top of her head. "Worked didn't it?"
She let out a sniff of amusement.
"She's lucky that's all I did to her."
Now Kaylens was fixing him with a look. "I thought you obliviated her into forgetting her entire history and dumped what was left of her at a Muggle hospital?"
He gave a one-shouldered shrug so as not to dislodge Kaylens' head off the other – later he'd marvel that he was picking up her mannerisms, plus he liked having her there – and grimaced. "She's an evil bitch, Kal," he said darkly. "Would have been doing the world a favor if I had killed her. Pomfrey though probably wouldn't have approved so…compromised."
Kally actually shifted at that, placing a hand flat on his chest and pushing herself up so she could look at him. "You really would have killed her?"
"Yes." He didn't blink. He didn't stutter. "That bother you?"
She studied him for a moment, her hazel gaze glinting in the dark. "No," she whispered, and Harry knew without question that she meant it.
Again he shrugged. "Then what's the problem?"
"There is none. Just…figuring out how your mind works."
"Dangerous hobby, Kaylens. Sure you want to delve down that road?"
She gnawed on her lower lip for a moment, pretending to consider. "Well…I am already sleeping with you, so seems a bit late…"
He outright snorted, giving her a pointed tug to come back down to where she'd been. His shoulder was cold in the spot she'd recently vacated.
Kaylens, as usual, complied, and fuck if he didn't love the way his skin felt as she snaked her hand across his chest. It left her arm draped over his midsection, Harry's fingers gripping around her shoulder to keep her pressed tightly to him.
He needed this. He needed to feel her warm breath against him, knowing what she was going to go through over the next few weeks once she was back at Hogwarts. He needed her proximity, knowing that after four months of continually being with her, near her, that he wasn't going to see her until the end of July, at the earliest.
He needed her, and the thought of separation was killing him.
"You alright?" she asked, rather astutely reading his expression. He imagined it was turbulent, like a damn storm.
"Yes," he lied. "Just thinking about how much I'm going to fucking miss you." He glanced down to find her impossibly golden irises glinting up at him, concern reflected in every pigment. "Seriously, Black was right. You're like a really good damn addiction for me. But now I have to be sober for a few months while that other me gets you. Really, it's enough to make me want to break into Hogwarts and hex my fucking self."
That got a smile out of her. It made his fucking stomach churn with something impossibly warm.
"At the end of July you'll come find me, right?" A lock of hair had fallen in front of her face, the non-witch reaching up to brush it out of the way, peering at him with such open hope that had he been a younger version of himself he might have run.
"Damn right I will," he said instead.
He was going to find her, and then he was going to fucking marry her. Granted he had to properly ask, even though he already sort of had a half dozen times, but he reckoned a ring had to be in his hand for it to actually count.
"What's your middle name?" he asked, shifting his leg so it rubbed against hers.
Kaylens responded by sliding her leg over his, her thigh coming to rest against his waist, rubbing against a certain spot and forcing a well-meant groan out of him. "I'll tell you in July," she said, "when you find me."
Now he groaned for a whole new reason. "That's what you told me over the summer too. That you'd tell me once I got back."
Her lips parted, looking scandalized. "So you were trying to cheat and get it out of me now?"
"Can't blame a guy for trying."
She very casually lifted a hand and gave his chest a flick.
He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. He left his mouth there, buried against her thick hair, just breathing her scent in.
Honeysuckle and rain, like the kind lingering within the air during an electrical storm, thunder rolling overhead, and something woodsy. Like being outside after a fresh rain, or on the Quidditch pitch. That's what Kaylens' scent was. Like amortentia.
"You ever brew a love potion?" he asked.
The look she shot him was so scathing he actually laughed. "I didn't mean it like that."
"How desperate," she questioned, her eyes narrowing like she hadn't quite decided whether she wanted to inflict physical harm on him or not yet, "do you think I am, Potter?"
"Well, you are dating me…" He swore to Merlin his father's genetics reared their ugly head at the worst of times.
Kaylens kicked him. Hard.
Then she curled back up against his shoulder, making herself comfortable as if she hadn't just assaulted him, while he made a dying sound, contemplating who was worse: Kaylens or Bellatrix. Really, he'd had beatings from both.
"I just meant," he groaned, "that you smell like mine."
A bit of wind kicked up off the sea, sending her hair scattering into his face. Kaylens peered up at him anyway. "What do you mean?"
"When you brew it, it smells like what attracts you. It's different for each person." Reaching down to rub at his recently injured leg, he explained, "We had to brew it in class once. Last year. Mine smelled exactly like you. Thought you'd find it endearing. Didn't think you'd resort to violence."
"Oh," she said, wrinkling her nose, her own hair tickling it as she batted it away. It was utterly adorable, though Harry valued his life so would never voice that aloud. "Potter you didn't know me last year."
"Apparently that wasn't a factor."
"That's…a little scary."
He snorted. "Tell me about it." Still, he found himself eyeing her curiously in the dark. "Did I just teach you something about Potions?"
She glanced up at him, nodding, her nose still wrinkled from her tangled hair. Harry decided to take pity and tugged his arm out from behind his head, beginning the arduous process of smoothing her thick hair out and away from her face.
Not that he was complaining.
"You live in the potion's lab," he said as he did this, "how have you never brewed it?"
"Lust potions aren't exactly on Snape and Black's list of war mandated potions for brewing," she pointed out. "I don't know anything about some basic things."
She had a point. He still smirked. "Lust?" he paused what he was doing and quirked an eyebrow. "For someone who doesn't know about this potion you certainly seem to know what it does."
She smacked his hand away and gave him an exasperated look. "I don't have to have studied it to know you can't manufacture actual love in a bottle, Potter. Though…apparently you can make it smell like someone." She gave a small shudder. "That's actually creepy."
"Think you can brew one when you get back?"
Now his girlfriend eyed him as if he had grown a second head. "Why on earth would I want to do that?"
"I'm curious if yours will smell like me."
Kaylens dropped her hand back to his chest, tapping a single finger in thought. "Of course it would. What else could it possibly smell like?" Seeing him open his mouth, she actually laughed, cutting him off. "Please tell me you're not about to suggest it'd smell like Dean?"
Harry paused, given that was exactly the thought that had crossed his mind.
She laughed again, wetting her lips and looking up at him with unveiled amusement. Apparently he hadn't needed to answer at all. "You're something else, Potter. Why the sudden interest anyway?"
And there, laying on the beach's rocky embankment with her, he considered this.
It really didn't take a lot of soul searching to figure it out.
Telling her was another matter entirely.
So he remained silent for a moment, Kaylens content to remain that way. It was something he fucking loved about her. She never pressed him the way Hermione did to open up 'for his own good'. She didn't badger him the way Ron might have because they were 'mates' and shouldn't have secrets. She didn't get frustrated the way Ginny may have. She didn't cry like Cho definitely would have.
Kaylens was just content to simply remain, and he was infinitely grateful for it.
The air was pleasant against his skin, warm but not too warm. Overhead the sky was clear, stars bright, the moon's cast light making it easy to see her expressions even had he not had phoenix-enhanced vision. Hell, the pale moonlight spilled over her features, making her appear paler than normal, making the paler flecks in her dark eyes sparkle.
It was fucking entrancing.
Harry shifted, his hand finding her jawline, fingers tracing gently along it. "Just want you to have all the facts in, Kaylens, before….well…" His own expression grew unreadable, Harry studying her with quiet intensity.
They both knew where this was heading, assuming they lived long enough, and like hell did Harry ever want her to have any lingering room for doubts.
Knowing his potion had smelled exactly like her, before he'd even met her strangely removed any for him.
Harry studied her, breathing harder than he perhaps should. The slope of her nose, the high angles of her almost unnaturally angular cheekbones, her darker than black eyelashes – something he knew by now was strange given the color of her hair…they all stood out amongst the pale moonlight.
It was enough to make his mouth dry.
Kaylens' lips parted with sudden understanding.
Still she said nothing, and neither did he. He just contentedly traced the line of her jaw, fingers sliding inevitably to her cheek, tracing her cheekbone back to the tip of her ear.
Her hand fell over his, pressing his palm to her face, her eyes closing. It was like being hit with an electrical wire, the entire back of his hand tingling from the contact. "Harry," she said, "you don't have anything to worry about." Eyes flickering open, the flecks of green and brown against the liquid gold backdrop swirling, she added, "Though if it will honestly make you feel better I'll try brewing it. You might need to send me a note or something though, given I'm not going to actually remember any of this conversa-"
Harry pressed his mouth to hers, cutting her off. She never got to finish her reassurance. Harry's hand slowly tangled in her hair, his body shifting, moving, bringing her with him as he gently turned her onto her back. Not once did he stop kissing her. Not once did he want to.
Harry hovered over the non-witch he was in love with, his hands moving down her sides, his grip fisting in her clothes. Slowly he drug them off her. Slowly she drug his off him. Harry's mouth had been firmly pressed against the side of her neck, the taste of her skin doing things to his pulse that were downright unhealthy, when she'd blindly divested him of his belt.
It was thrown, somewhere, lost like his other ones had been. Later he would idly wonder what her vendetta was against his belts, and why she couldn't just leave them attached to his pants or just nearby. She always had to throw them, which invariably resulted in them disappearing – really, he'd gotten scarily good at transfiguring new ones out of random sticks - but fuck if he cared about that right now.
Harry made love to her against the rocks.
He claimed her, though this time their movements were slow, measured, needing. They were not flat out treasured every damn second. This…he would be deprived of this, of their contact, their closeness for months.
It wasn't a simple lust. He didn't simply want this woman. He needed her, on a primal level, and the pressure of his mouth against hers, every brush of his hands over her body, every thrust of his hips against hers conveyed that, promising her that he was hers, that she was his, and he had no intentions of going back the way of fucking sanity.
Their breathless gasps, groans, sounds of blatant pleasure were the only sounds to break the otherwise impenetrable silence of the shoreline.
Kaylens had been taking potions – they'd learned from their mistake in the crypt – so there was no worry. Harry eventually was spent, barely holding himself up, over her, breathing hard as the air around them practically sizzled. Static electricity, energy always seemed to thrum between them, Harry thudding his brow against hers to breathe deeply for a long, long while.
Kally's fingertips drug down his bared back, nails scraping his shoulders, raking down the length of his spine as he physically felt her pulse calming beneath him.
He seized her lips for a long, lingering moment, catching his breath, before confessing, "Every time…every," mouth pressing back to hers, "fucking," nose bumping alongside hers "time." It was incredible in a way no one would ever have a prayer of comparing to, and from the way Kally was nodding against his face she agreed.
Eventually he slid out of her, the loss of being in her felt, like always. Harry collapsed onto his back, dragging Kaylens with him, the two now laying, exposed to the night air, Harry's heart throbbing, twisting as he became cursedly aware that it was no longer the 22nd.
It was after midnight, on the 23rd of April.
Soon Kaylens would have to leave.
Judging from the way she was trembling against him she knew it too.
He slid his hand up and into her hair, fingers raking through it in the most calming, reassuring manner he could muster. His eyes didn't close. He just stared straight up at the clear night sky, Kaylens scent mixing with that of the salty air drifting off the North Sea, his heart still pounding.
He loved her; he was about to lose her again, for months.
There was a twist deep inside his core that made him physically ill.
"Harry," she whispered after a long while, "obliviation…does it hurt?"
His throat violently constricted, but he answered all the same. "Nah," he croaked, sounding hoarse. "It's just like blinking."
She had begun to trace those incomprehensible patterns against his chest again, her fingertip following an outline he could not. The only difference was now his chest was bare, Kalliandra shivering as the cool night air brushed against her skin. She was naked, cold, and so was he, yet neither made a move to retrieve their clothing.
Harry simply flexed his fingers against her side, muttering a warming charm, feeling her pressing agreeably closer as it took hold.
"Have you ever been obliviated?" she finally asked, skeptical.
Despite himself he smirked, dropping his head down against hers, shaking his head. "Not that I remember."
She smacked his chest. "You're an absolute ass."
He caught her lips, kissing her again. He kissed her long and hard, eventually pulling her up and onto him, Kaylens laying atop him, Harry's hands sliding up the bared length of her back as he gave up on meaningless things, like breathing. The only things that mattered were the way her legs tangled with his, the feel of her hands raking their way through his unruly hair, the way her long mane of gold fell down around her face as they kissed, the ends tickling against his skin, the way his heart pounded, fighting for release against his ribcage.
The way his hand reached out as they kissed, blindly summoning, his wand leaving the pocket of his discarded jeans and launching directly into it. His fingers clenched around the holly wood for a tense moment, Kally oblivious, her hand sliding against the side of his face as she deepened the kiss, an incredibly contented sound expelled from between her lips.
Harry's arm tightened even harder around her thin waist, crushing her to him, his head lifting to practically shove his tongue down her throat as he attempted to taste, feel every part of her. It wasn't enough; it never would be. Every centimeter of his body felt like it was on fire, pinpricks of magic, of electricity traveling between their bare skin, Harry groaning as he nudged his nose against hers, a pit of dread in his stomach.
Months ago, when he had told Kalliandra that she wasn't his Kally he had been right; she wasn't. She was an entirely different, new Kaylens. They'd had different experiences then his Kally had. He was in love with his Kally. He truly, deeply was. But they had never gotten to talk the way he and this Kaylens had. The extra time together…he'd gotten to know more of her, and he wouldn't trade it. Not for fucking anything.
He was in love with Kaylens, no matter what timeline he was in. But this one, this Kaylens…
They weren't just in love. They were actually friends.
Close friends.
And if he were honest with himself, he felt closer to her than he did Ron and Hermione. He didn't know when or even how it had happened, but somehow it had.
And like hell was he giving that up.
It was with a deep breath, seized against her lips, that he cleared his head.
The smile Kaylens gave against him should have gutted him for what he was about to do.
He didn't allow it.
He cracked his gaze, seeing the content, tranquil expression upon her face, her eyes closed, the non-witch as relaxed as he'd ever seen her.
He brought his hand up, moving from along the small of her back until his fingers gripped directly beneath her shoulder blades. It'd control her, his lips pressing to hers in one more kiss, Harry savoring it, needing it to last him. He didn't bother pulling away, Harry speaking directly against her. His words came out roughly, hoarsely. "Hey, Kaylens."
She opened her eyes, spectacular gold meeting hardened green.
Her gaze also met the wand pointed directly at her forehead.
Harry didn't allow her time to register it.
He should have told her. He should have sat her up and calmly explained what he was going to do.
He was terrified she'd say no, insist on obliviation, just like Hermione had tried.
So in the end he just did it.
The moment her eyes caught his he said it.
"Legilimens."
There was a familiar swirl, Harry plunging into her mind like he had thrice before. Like when he'd entered her mind so long ago, finding her memories mixing with that of a young unicorn, the blood of which had saved her life. Back then he'd separated her memories from the unicorn's, one-by-one, so that her sanity would be spared, building a wall between the two.
And just like he had so long ago, Harry began to build a wall within Kalliandra's mind.
Only this time he began to hide all of her memories from the past several months behind it, boxing it in, leaving no holes for them to escape through. And on one of the bricks he left a runic symbol, a marking.
It was a key, a solitary trigger word, used for tearing it down when he was ready.
In his arms, there on that beach, Harry heard Kalliandra whimper as he worked.
It gutted him.
ECOTS
April 23rd, 5:53 a.m.
The door to the cottage opened and Regulus looked up from his drink, coffee laced with a bit of spirit, to find Potter carrying the Reach back inside. She lay limply in his arms, clearly sleeping charmed, oblivious to where she was and what her boy-wonder-boyfriend had just done.
"Did it work?" he drawled, finding himself oddly curious.
Potter looked oddly haggard, exhausted circles beneath his eyes, but he met his gaze. "Yeah," he croaked. "I think so."
No wonder Potter looked worn. If what he'd attempted had actually worked, the task alone would have taken hours of continuous legilimency. He doubted even that eccentric Headmaster or Severus would have been capable of it without it serving as a significant drain on their magical reserves.
Yet Potter had tried it anyway.
Regulus found himself oddly intrigued, enough so to actually close the book he had been reading. It had been a rather intriguing tale about a Muggle detective with an expansive vocabulary, written by some Muggle that had been eventually knighted. "I suppose we will see in a day or two," he said. "I'll maintain an eye on her for the next twenty four hours at the school, as agreed upon. If she seems to be remembering or if it any way has failed, I'll obliviate her."
A strange expression stiffened Potter's face, but he nodded. "Thank you."
Then the wizard sat down in the window seat, the girl still in his arms, Potter shifting her until she rested more comfortably against his chest. It was like watching a child clutch onto a life-sized rag doll that they considered a security blanket.
It was enough to make Regulus idly wonder for the hundredth time if he had indeed missed out on a pivotal life experience by never growing so attached to anyone. Fortunately he did not allow his thoughts to linger. "Then, as agreed upon, that bookish friend of yours will obliviate me."
Potter merely nodded, his hand having come up to basically pet the side of the unconscious witch's face.
He let out a resigned sigh, already regretting his interest in the troglodytes' love affair. "I'm curious, Potter," he said, finally setting both the book and coffee down, "your life is the one at stake here. What could possibly cause you to risk that, just to spare her a few pityingly pathetic months of memory?"
The wizard looked up, and there was no hesitance in either his gaze or tone. "Haven't you ever loved someone so much you'd do anything for them?"
Regulus paused with his mouth partway open, the drawl of his typical response already formulated on his tongue. For some reason Potter's transparency had given him pause. The wizard was infuriatingly open about his affectations, apparently seeing nothing weak in them at all.
He ruminated upon it for only a moment more, before deciding to hell with it; he was going to forget all about this anyway. "Yes," he said, voice clipped and factual.
Potter looked so surprised it was a marvel he didn't drop the girl. "I thought Slytherins weren't afflicted with that type of issue?" he said instead, the sarcasm in his tone almost admirable.
Regulus merely rolled his eyes. "When I stated that I was referring to your sort of issue, Potter. We Slytherins are in possession of enough self-control to not go googly eyed over any member of the opposite sex who looks at us it in that 'oh so special' way."
The wizard frowned. "So what are you talking about then?"
Again Regulus found himself pausing, then decided that eighteen years was more than long enough to have kept it to himself.
Besides, Potter had a remarkable ability to keep things to himself. Shockingly.
"My son," he stated, ignoring the shell-shocked look on Potter's face. "Now, I believe things on Hogwarts' grounds have calmed down enough for our other selves to be cleared from the area of the incident. It is night still, so assuming your mandrake leaves survived you ought to have enough time to collect them to complete that miserable transformation you lot were attempting. So, shall we?"
And just like that Regulus Black reduced Harry Potter, the alleged savior of the wizarding world, to stammering.
