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Releasing the wand for what he promised would be only moments, he continued sawing at his bindings, slowly, rhythmically, trying to gain precious centimeters of mobility...

He was armed, and the realization had numbed him, his next move horribly elusive.

With the rhythmic sawing of the shard, his mind fell curiously blank for the first time in what felt millennia.

His gaze fell upon her as she moved, shoving herself up from where she lay on the floor, arms shaking fiercely, be it from shock or the pain he knew she daily bore, he did not know.

"Kaylens." He whispered softly, grasping for something, anything familiar in the horror that was his life.

She fell into place besides him, so close, her bloodied sleeve nearly brushing against his skin. She was blocking Dolohov's view of what he was doing, he knew it without even asking, for her eyes swept the room as those of the hunted would.

She was being as cautious as him, despite the slight sway to her stature.

Snap.

Another thread of the rope broke free, it's release masked by her sudden, purposeful coughing.

Her head fell forward, her coughs lingering long enough to seem genuine, and her golden, tangled locks came cascading down, falling over her eyes, veiling her expression from all but him. To his eyes each shimmering strand, glinting in the dull afternoon glow, as well as her watery orbs, remained visible, as well as her bound wrists, white and torn from where she had frantically pulled, struggling for release in Dolohov's arms.

The bastard would never again lay a finger upon her.

He would never again lay a finger upon anyone.

Harry Potter had a few dark spells he was quite eager to try out.

Snap.

"How much longer do you think it'll be till he finishes questioning the village Antonin?"

Dolohov sneered. "Ludovic you are trying my patience as much as the half-blood and these..." The dark gaze of the man scanned the room, taking in the few conscious students and the two patrons bound and lined against the walls. "These spares."

"But what if the ministry...."

Dolohov kicked the floor, sending shattered glass skittering across Dean's fallen form. "We will be here and gone before those fools catch wind of this. Besides, these things are delicate matters..."

Questioning? His ears listened, silently taking it all in. Besides him Kalliandra appeared to be doing the same, while Luna shifted the glass shards on the floor around with her feet.

Bagman seemed besides himself with questions. Harry mentally egged him on to be loose lipped.

"Perhaps we could stun them all and take them back ourselves?"

Dolohov scowled in his direction. "He will not be needing all of them. And you would do well to keep your mouth shut from now on or I will shut it for you."

The discussion ended.

It was then that he heard it.

"You..."

Only he had heard her whispered accusation, for it could be nothing else. The sheer revulsion in that one, whispered word left nothing to question.

Her eyes had moved from Dolohov, drifting into the background beyond, liquid fire boiling beyond their depths. Lifting his own he followed her gaze to where Ludo Bagman stood, pouring himself another fidgety drink.

He turned his confusion upon her, noticing her chest's rhythmic rising as her breaths came quicker, deeper, faster...

Golden eyes flickered shut, a pained expression falling across her.

"How sorry were you?" She breathed to herself, only barely, for the hatred saturating her soft tones was not lost upon him.

It was chilling.

His own boiling blood froze as he studied her, taking advantage of the lull in activities.

"Kaylens." He whispered, almost pleadingly.

Her hateful gaze burned right through him, straight to Bagman.

"Kaylens please..."

Her eyes fell shut, her fists opening and closing on thin air. "You're bleeding Potter, are you alright?" She whispered shakily.

Gently brushing his arm against her own, he waited for some sign that she was alright.

Minutes passed, before delicate eyelids flickered open, her eyes alight with an aberrant glow.

"Good." She murmured. "Because I can only give you a moment."

His mouth flapped wordlessly, shocked at the transformation before him.

Where his skin lightly touched her own, an unnatural tingling had begun.
* * * * *


The energy reverberating from him drew her nearer, an eternity passing before she was able to forcibly draw away.

His confusion radiated in startling quantities, but he would understand soon enough.

They would all understand...

She would not stray near him again, for her world was moving unnaturally slow, as if the events occurring around her were illusory, fleeting images from horrible dreams that would surely vanish with a waft of merciful consciousness.

Only no such merciful breeze came.

Her bound hands rose from her lap, tracing the tender line of her jaw, feeling her cooling skin. Somewhere, amidst the fighting, she had fallen, shoved away by Dean. The dried smear of blood along her cheek gave evidence to that.

She could feel the heat radiating from Dean's limp form.

He was alive...

Hermione...

The small girl's fingers had curled around fallen chunks of her bloodied, uprooted hair, as if the resolute Gryffindor had wanted something to hold onto, something solid and tangible to prove the afflictions had been real.

They had...

Her eyes fell willfully shut once more, immersing herself in the peaceful oblivion of darkness, where no demons save her own reigned.

The memories of a resurrected night, long due revenge, beckoned.

A limp hand lay splayed across the front corridor...Blood trickling onto the wooden porch boards...

"God forgive me..." She breathed, the palpable chill filling her lungs.

She had made her decision.

The chilling rain pelted down, something dark mixing with the muddy water licking at her nose...

The tingling began softly, like a light feather playing across her skin, traversing it's way upwards, inwards...

It was their blood swirling within the puddle....Sean's blank eyes staring back...

It was rolling in discrete waves, operating by it's own indiscernible rules, pulsating from the living, evaporating from the dead.

A boyish face appeared above her, sympathy in his oceanic eyes. "I'm awfully sorry about this kid..."

His voice had echoed through that night, and again this day.

He had stood idly by once, and was again.

She squeezed her eyes shut ever tighter, involuntarily shudders traveling through her, the heady pressure in the very air building, pulsating in uncontrolled waves outwards.

The world was taking on a hotter quality, every nerve burning with fiery intensity as she began reaching, feeling...

The acrid presence of Ludovic Bagman filled her, and she began drawing.

Her intent was to kill.
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A/N: Please forgive the author's note, but I believe a proper thank you is in order.

Thank you for making this story the Number One Favorite Story on the site, for making me the Number One Favorite Author on the site, for making this the 7th most read story in the site's history when it has been out for less than a year, and for making this the story with the Most Reviews Ever.

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"Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, merely changed and transformed from one form to another."
~ First Law of Thermodynamics ~

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Chapter 21 ~ Amongst Us ~ Part 1


It was as it was before, the feeling.

She did not fear, could not, for it was her very nature.

Her cells were multiplying with frightening measure. She could almost feel them, enticing her breath to come in sharp, pained gasps. The gentle tickling of prior, the feel of static lightly traversing across her skin, had been long since vanquished, replaced by fiery tendrils of unchecked energy weaving steadily through her, searing across her very skin like fiery, unkempt tendrils of hell.

The very atoms of her cells were moving in unnatural ways.

Pained eyes flickered open upon the world, reflecting the light as only she could see it. For the golden mist swirled throughout the room in thick, stifling electron clouds, sending fiery chills searing through the hollow shell of what she had once been.

The particles danced, shining from all that was alive, emitting softly from all that was dead, as energy must do. The human eye had always been blind to the subtler forms of it's majestic ballet, but it was a dance to which she was privy.

It was her curse.

She did not fear it, nor did she embrace it as she so ought. She simply breathed, allowing the palpable chill to fill her lungs, cooling her lips as it passed.

His presence filled her.

The hot particles upon the once barely discernerable breeze vibrated, the golden mists forming tightly from her to him, flowing in a closed circuit between them, her will unconsciously directing the charged particles to dance within the rhythm of her domain.

Fiery cold, soothing pain... Such were the sensations of electrocution, and all it's conflicting ambiance.

An ambiance that beckoned, heeding her call as she pulled, drawing it from him, taking it upon herself without heed for consequence.

Besides her, drawing her concerted concentration from the impenetrable world of her mind, she noticed Potter stirring, taking advantage of the small distraction her spent energy afforded them.

Ludovic...

She could have chosen to attack the other Death Eater, but it had to be him.

Ludovic, as the other had called him, had stood idly by, watching them butcher her family with barely a grimace.

He had not lifted a finger.

"I'm awfully sorry about this kid..."

He would regret it. They all would. She would see to it.

But Ludovic first.

Potter's arms were moving now. She could feel it despite her closed eyes, as surely as she felt Ludovic's own sapping strength.

She pulled Ludovic's strength of life into herself, as she had done twice before, robbing him. The energy driving his heart pounded frantically, pulling from her, recoiling like a frightened child until she finally had him in her grasp.

Smothering that fire of resisting life for as long as she could, she silently cried in pain, feeling Ludovic do the same.

The soft sound of a body falling lifelessly upon the debris strewn floor met her even before the backlash did.

Everything that had occurred, had taken place within a poorly closed circuit. Now the white hot thread of energy, the one that had vibrated so thickly between them, finally snapped.

The electricity flew from his fallen form to her own kneeling one, leaving her no choice save to absorb it's sudden release with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Her eyes flicked open as the force of it hit her, revealing sparkling, cloudy hues of golden light dancing around her, fading away as the shroud of unconsciousness fell ever closer.

Besides her Potter was moving... Standing... Shouting... All of this registered instinctively within, as she finally succumbed to the alluring darkness, beckoning with rest.
* * * * *


"Stick with the pack, go astray and we will kill you ourselves. Brethren or not."

The pack leader's words reverberated inside the wolf's pounding skull, distracting it from the pungent scents tempting it's olfactory senses, the townsmen's cruor teasing the pack, stimulating their bloodlust's desire.

Yet the pack controlled it, tramping as one across the periphery of what had once been the epitome of quaintness, before spreading out, fringing across the outskirts of the forest, taking cover in the forest's shadows. Here the pack would fight back the stragglers, catching any who sought to flee Hogsmeade before their task was complete.

The wolf pawed the ground with overt savagery, the animal's furor at being deprived it's quarry apparent to the elder accompanying it. A menacing growl calmed it, forcing the words of the pack into it's aching mind, for the tempting allure of the townsmen's blood, located just within the walls of Hogsmeade, was causing the canine to lose itself.

It needed to feed.

The accompanied wolf, driven nearly mad with desire, sniffed deeply, huffing the coarse bristles of it's snout away angrily. The hirsuteness of the beast's hide was coated in the fleshy cruor that had coursed freely from it's torn pelt, the fresh tears of it's transformation still apparent, for a werewolf was quick to transform, yet slow to heal.

Voldemort would fix that.

The knowledge drifted through the animalistic savagery plaguing the wolf's mind, forcing it to remember who it was, why it was here, what it's job truly was beyond the desire brought about by the feigned hunt.

He was Remus Lupin, friend of those within the town's walls, the walls sheltering beneath the very tree boughs he and the other werewolves hid below.

He was there to discover Voldemort's intent, his plans, his faults.

The creature Riddle was intelligent in a way he could only dream of, for where generations of healers had failed in discerning the mechanisms of lyncanthropy, Voldemort had succeeded, and harnessed it's cruel power into something he could fully exploit.

When they had stood poised on the brink of Hogsmeade, seemingly ready to attack, he had been surprised. For their orders were not to kill, maim, or injure the town's inhabitants in any way. They were merely to form a guard around the town's circumference, ensuring that all wizarding occupants remained within it's walls for a time.

And when that time was over, they were to be gone, fleeing into the forest where a portkey would await their return to the Parisian catacombs.

The reason for this peculiar Death Eater activity was unbeknownst to him. He could not fathom why.

But all his suppositions vanished as the scent of blood wafted upon a stale breeze.

His bloodlust was wholly returned, the teeth of the other creature of the night, the elder, digging into his pelt, the only thing preventing him from running into town to hunt his quarry.
* * * * *


The thick cloud was barely discernable, yet it pulsated around him, bearing down, stifling him as if an electric shock were coursing threw him.

He felt numb, unable to move, let alone think, properly. His head spun in a not unfamiliar way, and despite this, Harry knew where he had felt the same sensation.

Grimmauld Place.

"I can only give you a moment"

It was her. She had whispered those words only seconds before. She had done it before, and she was doing it again, and though he did not know how, every fiber of him knew it to be true.

Kalliandra was doing this.

She could only give him a moment... A moment of distraction. A single chance to take them out.

He knew what he had to do.

The heady pressure increasing around him, over-powering any sure sense of equilibrium, he forced his arms to obey, grasping his wand in a barely concealed move as Dolohov's drugged eyes fixed upon Ludo Bagman's form, as the former Ministry Official disappeared behind the bar, clutching his chest.

Harry spared the man no pity, all his energy fixated on the soul task of catapulting to his feet, then twisting until the wand so precariously gripped within his bound hands was pointed towards the remaining Death Eater.

"Delirium Modente!" He gasped, his last shreds of energy spent as he set the curse free.

The dark curse.

A Death Eater deserved nothing less.

He never did see Dolohov's eyes as the last fledglings of sanity were stolen, but the curse left Dolohov's large frame withering upon the ground, hands clutching desperately, tearing thick, bloodied chunks of hair from his scalp.

The heady pressure lifted as suddenly as it had come, the cloudy form vanishing with a breath, and Harry fell to his knees, breathing deeply, watching in grim satisfaction as one by one, memory after memory, fled from Dolohov's twisted, scarred mind.

The Death Eater would be unable to recall even his own name once the curse had run it's course.

Harry had finally learnt the joys of cruelty upon one's enemy.

It was several moments before he realized that while the others were stirring, Kaylens was not.
* * * * *


"Mr. President... Your wife and daughter are amongst the missing...

The car door slammed behind him, his daughter's small form curled up on the passenger side's floor, whimpering, begging for Mum...

Marie...

Fumbling for the key's with his frozen hands, his mind was assaulted. Every ungodly memory of the past weeks, of his life, slammed into his consciousness one, by one, by one.

Only the whimpering of his little girl kept him sane. He needed to stay strong for her.

The hospital doors slid open, the glass paneling revealing his haggard reflection. At the end of the guarded hall, lined with security, awaited the morgue.

Identification of the body was necessary.

"Tonksie...Tonksie...Daddy where's Tonksie?!"

Emily's hysterical crying drew his eyes through the rain coated windshield to where Tonks stood, a look of pure consternation on her normally warm face. She darted, arm out, presumably clutching the wand he could not see.

What affected him, what jolted him, what sent his foot pressing upon the gas peddle, the wheels spinning, skidding in the watery gravel, was the sense of pure, unadulterated despair that overcame him as he watched her slip in the mud, falling....

She landed in the grass, her back to the Earth, arms stretched upwards in front of her soaked body, shaking so violently that he could see it through the rain's thick onslaught. It seemed as if she were supporting a burden of incredible weight, one that would bear down upon her if she faltered, one that would crush her and then come for them if she failed.

The mortician gestured to the nearest gurney, his heart lurching as he approached.

He already knew. He had seen their revival attempts at the home they had taken him to. He had seen the bluish tint to her once lively lips...

Yet having seen her... Knowing what was to come...

The tires spun in the gravel, screeching forward as he neared her. She had to get in. They were not leaving without her.

Without warning, without a single sign, the car lurched violently, halting as a resonating thud reverberated throughout the hood of the vehicle.

The thunderous sound startled him more than his daughter's cries, more than the sound of his cartilage breaking as his nose collided with the steering wheel, for a large dent had formed in the hood, the glass of the windshield cracking, splintering out until a network of spider webs formed across it...

As the sterile sheet was pulled back, he knew none of it could prepare one for seeing the lifeless body of the love of their life for a second time.

The first time had nearly killed him...

A lock of her auburn hair fell loose, his hand smoothing it back...

Something invisible had collided with their car....

The feel of blood trickling down his face, falling upon his white knuckled hands, which remained firmly clutched around the cold, black steering wheel, had drawn him back.

As did Tonks' weak cries from where she lay, scrambling in the mud like a terrified animal seeking escape.

"Emily stay here!" He commanded, tossing the door open, bracing himself for the rain and despair he somehow knew to be coming.

The pelting rain was the blessing, for it kept him conscious, re-vitalizing him with it's icy furor as the despair attempted to drown him. He staggered, reaching for her, for Tonks.

She was scrambling to her feet, slipping in the mud, crawling backwards towards him, fending he and Emily from whatever it was only she could see.

Her other arm was flailing, her whole face changing, moving in ways a face should not move...

He reached her, grasping her firmly to steady both he and her. "Kenneth...." She screamed angrily, choking on the thick downpour. "Kenneth get away..."

"Not without you!" He shouted into the wind, the rain slapping against him. His arms looped beneath her, hauling her with him, sliding her across the grass as her wand arm remained steadfastly out, preventing him from completely lifting her suddenly limp as a doll form.

Only her arms remained rigid, for she was refusing to move them, not even for an instant to stand...

Bent over her pulled her with him, scrambling backwards, finally falling onto the side of the car, it's headlights blazing a brilliant path of light into the darkening, storm-shrouded day.

As he weakly tried to stand, yanking on the rear door of the vehicle, shoving Tonks' protesting form inside while she held her wand out, he finally saw it.

There, in the beam of light from the car's headlights...

A huge, looming shadow, flanked by many, many more, were surrounding them.

Yet the source of the shadows, he could not see.

The palpable chill in the air only grew until the frost upon the window's splintering turned to ice.

It was only then that it dawned upon him why Tonks would not lower her wand.
* * * * *


He froze.

Harry Potter, a true Gryffindor, completely, undeniably, froze. The shock of everything sinking in, preventing him from taking anything into account, save for what lay right before him.

"Kaylens..." He mouthed soundlessly, frightened by the pale pallor caressing her damp skin.

There were other patrons scattered, unconscious or worse across the pub, yet she was the closest.

Hastily he murmured the spell to loosen the remaining bindings, wiggling his blood encrusted hands until the ropes slid to the glass strewn floor. He dropped to his knees, reaching to brush her blood stained locks aside, when a shaken, yet commanding voice, halted him.

Kneeling besides her, Harry stared slack jawed as Ronald Weasley spoke, clambering to his feet, a dark bruise encircling the side of his face.

"Harry. Move. Away. From. That. Thing." He repeated, a threatening air creeping into the barely uttered command. "Move away, before it wakes."

Harry blinked stupidly, not fully processing Ron's words. All he knew was that Ron was not dead. Ginny's curse had not worked. And now a pair of icy blue eyes were fixated upon Kaylens as if she were Voldemort himself.

Fortunately for Harry, Luna was not nearly as thrown by Ron's sudden return to the realm of the living.

"Why hello Ronald. I was wondering when you'd stop pretending."

Ron's eyes flickered to Luna's for the briefest of seconds, before his wand shot out, fixated upon his quarry.

"So how long have you been awake Ronald?" She continued airily, rising to her feet in one fluid motion. Her bound hands began fiddling with her soil strewn hair, brushing it back curiously, as if it were a mere pest to be dealt with.

Ron's bruised face contorted into a scowl at this. "Long enough." He responded warily.

Luna was moving to where Ron still stood, staring at Kaylens as if she were Lucifer incarnate. "Well Ronald, would you mind undoing these for me?" She articulated, extending her wrists to him expectantly. "Harry's the only other one with a wand and he seems a bit preoccupied."

Ron's gaze never left his target, his wand flicking to Luna's outstretched arms without a glance, sending her tight ropes coiling free.

Luna smiled happily, flexing her wrists testingly at eye level, as Ron took a step forward.

"I'll ask you one more time Harry." He muttered menacingly. "Get. Away. From. The. Grim."

Harry's confusion regarding Ron's sudden appearance was routed by the serious expression across the redhead's freckled face. At a loss for explanations, he turned back to the girl before him, laying his hand upon her brow, feeling her cool skin beneath his own as Ron's poisonous stare burrowed into him.

"Harry she's a Grim. A Living Grim. Get the hell away from...."

He scarcely heard Ron's baritones, for a gentle tingling was radiating onto him, running across his open palm where his skin fell onto her own, as if small bits of static electricity were passing between them.

His fingers trailed down her face, a soft moan escaping her lips, drawing her shallow breaths into stark contrastation with his own.

Forgetting Ron's words, his eye's drifted from her to where Dean lay, sprawled beneath an overturned table that Luna was up-righting. "We need to get help..." Along the walls the scant others present were watching with bated breaths. "We need to get out of here before..."

"First you need to get away from the Grim Harry!" Ron nearly bellowed, wand arm shaking violently. "You might not know what she is, but you saw what she did!"

Hermione let out a muffled protest, and Ron's eyes flickered for a moment to where she sat, propped up, wide-eyed and staring.

It was the chance Harry needed. He did not know what had happened to Ron, but certainly his friend meant Kaylens harm. He was deluded. Grim's were omens of death. A living, breathing, sentient being could not be one.

He quickly placed himself between them, his own blood stained wand out, directly in Ron's furious face.

"Ron look, we don't have time for this. There are other Death Eaters in town and we don't have time..."

"We can't leave that thing lying around." Ron challenged, raising his own wand until it was eye level, directed at his scar. "I wouldn't have believed it myself had I not seen it. But leave a Living Grim lying around and it will kill you later."

"Ron stop it!" Hermione shouted, slightly hysterical as Luna knelt, freeing her and Neville's bindings.

Behind him another unhappy murmur rose from Kaylens unconscious form.

Luna now hovered over a quietly muttering Dolohov, sending thick ropes coiling around his arms and legs. And as Harry watched her, he noticed one of the non-student patrons inching away from where they stood, her frightened face fixated on Kaylens as well.

His eyes narrowed. "Would someone kindly tell me what's going on here?"

"But she can't be... He thinks she a Reach but she can't be...." Hermione stated weakly, her small form barely supported by Neville.

Harry's eyes did not leave Ron's for a second. "A Reach? And to me that means...."

"An energy shifter." Neville supplied. "That... That t-thing that just happened...." The Gryffindor attempted to wave, nearly dropping Hermione in the process. "That thing with the air... It was e-energy... They can draw on it when they need to..."

"When the need to kill people." Ron finished angrily. "I'd bet my broom Bagman is dead, Harry. That thing..." He indicated, gesturing violently with his wand. "Did it!"

"And she also quite possibly saved our lives." Neville sighed frustratedly. "She gave Harry the distraction he needed to take Dolohov out."

"She could have killed us all Neville!" Ron shouted, mercifully unheard upon the street as Luna's silencing charms were cast upon the windows and doors.

"But, she, didn't!" Neville shot back, setting Hermione down in one of the few chairs that had escaped unscathed.

Ron's resolve only grew. "Harry, she's not human." He declared. "She's not even a witch! All she is, is an energy draining leech that would kill her own mother if she had the chance! That's why they call them Living Grims! Whoever comes in contact with one dies! Meeting one is like seeing your own..."

"Death?" Harry supplied angrily, finally losing it. His head hurt. Ron being alive, Kaylens whatever it was they thought she was... It was simply too much to process. "Ron if she had wanted to kill us, don't you think she already would have?"

Ron's expression faltered, long enough for Harry to know that the truth of his words had sunk in.

"But she can't be a Reach..." Hermione was continuing on, sounding pained at the lack of certainty. "Remember History of Magic, the unusual species unit? You know with Veelas and Vampires? Things like that? We covered Reaches, and a Reach can't do Magic! They simply can't.... And I've seen her do magic in class..."

Ron snorted, a smug expression crossing his face. "A pre-magicked wand. Don't you see? We've never seen her do anything beyond basic, first year spells now have we?"

Harry's mind churned, searching for something to refute the statement, but when it came down to it, he had only seen her levitate Professor Gai and stun someone....

In Dumbledore's office she hadn't even reached for her wand.... She hadn't even tried to defend herself....

My God...

"Look..." He said shakily. "Just don't touch her. Leave her be, at least until we figure a way out of this mess."

Ron's hardened expression did not soften, but his wand arm fell "Fine. But remember who's idea this was Harry. Grim's are supposed to be killed on sight. So you can deal with the Ministry. Not. Me."

Killed on sight....

A sickening feeling rose within his chest at the words. They couldn't... The Ministry wouldn't....

Yet looking at Ron's expressionless face, he knew it to be true. Mr. Weasley worked at the Ministry. Ron had grown up in the wizarding world. Ron knew all of it's prejudices, even agreed with some. Hell, Ron had been afraid of Lupin upon first finding out hadn't he?

"A Grim... A Living Grim... Amongst Us.... Amongst us again..."

The whimpering of the woman, who was still attempting to slide away, reached his ears.

The sound of her frightened ramblings made him realize just what he was dealing with.

Kaylens had killed someone... His eyes flew to where Bagman had fallen, only to watch Ron traverse his way there, as if in slow motion, bending down, taking a pulse...

Ron's hate filled gaze, directed at the girl on the floor, was all the confirmation he needed.

Bagman was dead.

My God she really did...

He swallowed the cold truth, turning to look upon her.

Golden eyes were staring back, a frightened expression across her pale, tear stained face.
* * * * *


The car door slammed behind him, the rain having left the leather interior drenched with pooling rain droplets, and as his foot met the gas, he marveled at how the barely conscious Auror still held her wand high, aimed out the window, quietly muttering about a man named Lupie.

"Daddy... Dada...."

Something was boiling within him, something worse than fear as he shifted into reverse, slamming on the gas so hard the subsequent tire squeal left Emily screeching.

Tonks was leaning between the front seats, aiming her wand through the ever widening crack in the windshield, screaming as he stabbed violently at the defroster.

Somehow, amidst it all, his brain was still working logically.

Hydroplaning on the slick soil the car spun. Cranking the wheel into the turn the spin slowed until it was under his control, and they were on the road, driving, sobbing, shaking.

He wasn't sure when he finally lost consciousness. He was only sure that they were far beyond the cemetery where his young wife lay.
* * * * *


"Kaylens..." He whispered disbelievingly. Never before had he seen even a trace of such blatant emotion upon her normally complacent features.

Seeing Kaylens torn expression he rounded on Ron.

"You were going to kill her?" He shouted furiously, putting the pieces together. The way Ron had pulled his wand on her, the uncharacteristic, hardened expression...

He stepped backwards, shielding Kaylens with his entire body. "Is that what you planned?" He hissed, voice quivering dangerously. "It's not enough that the ministry indoctrinates their petty prejudices against everything and everyone through that ridiculous Daily Prophet and it's ridiculous laws, but you were stupid enough to actually consider listening to them weren't you?!"

The red head's expression faltered, and it didn't take long to see why, for Ron's eyes had fallen on the now conscious Kaylens, a look of mingled fright and disgust upon him.

Harry was furious for reasons he could not begin to understand. "What's the matter Ron?" He shot out. "You had no problem talking when you were proclaiming her inhuman a few seconds ago, yet now can't answer a simple question. Why is that?"

Ron let out a stutter.

"Sorry, couldn't quite catch that Ron." He nearly growled, glancing to the floor where Kaylens sat, her frightened expression giving way to one of sheer astonishment as their eyes locked.

"It's okay..." He mouthed, incapable of articulating anything else. All he knew was that if she was what they claimed her to be, then it wasn't her fault. She surely had not asked for it, just like he had not asked to have a death sentence hanging over his own head.

Suddenly every hostile action, every cruel word that had passed between them made perfect sense.

The whispered conversation in the bookshop, her anger at having been overheard, her familiarity with Remus, a werewolf, another hated species with laws ruling their kinds lives...

His anger at Ron's actions boiled over.

He leveled his wand once again. "Answer the question Ron."

Ron's eyes, glued to the floor, refused to look up. "I...I hadn't thought that far ahead..."

"Doesn't look like you were thinking at all actually."

"Harry you don't understand what those things are capa..."

"Ronald stop it!"

All eyes darted to the small brunette in the chair.

"Tell me you weren't even considering that." Hermione clipped. "I thought you were too smart to go by what the Ministry says! It's just another petty law..."

"It's not petty Mione! It's for our protectio...."

"Protection from what?" Hermione queried. "Anyone with a wand is dangerous, just because she's different doesn't mean she should be singled out Rona..."

Ron's jaw dropped. "Hermione! She killed Bagman! Did she show any mercy then? Did she?"

Hermione shook her head sadly. "He was a Death Eater. Do you really think he would have shown any to us?"

The red head scoffed. "This is Bagman were talking about..."

"He wouldn't have."

The verbal diatribe between the two teenagers ceased at Kaylens' scarcely uttered words, and as Harry turned he was surprised to find her standing besides him, watery eyes fixated on Ron.

"Ludovic Bagman was his name yes?" It was more of a statement than a question, and he let it remain in the air as he quickly unbound her arms for her.

"Thanks." She breathed, rubbing her arms where the skin had torn, flecks of dark cruor flaking off, floating to the debris strewn floor.

"How could you know that, murderer?" Ron snapped, though for once he scarcely acknowledged it. His consciousness was focused upon her reaction, upon the slight shaking beginning in her left arm, the stiffening of her neck, the balling of her fists...

Her eyes flickered closed, yet not quick enough for him to miss the deep pain residing within them.

"Because Ludovic did not show any mercy to my family." She responded softly, hauntingly. "That is all you need to know."

Ron was babbling about something. He caught the phrase, 'Bagman wasn't a killer,' but suddenly that all seemed so unimportant. For Hermione had asked what spell had actually hit Ron, and he was suddenly wondering that as well.

"Ron this isn't you!" Hermione quelled. "What has gotten into..."

Suddenly Ron's behavior clicked into place as well, and he turned around, scanning the room furiously, taking in each of the unknown patron's faces.

Hermione was right, this wasn't Ron. He may be brash, often speaking without thinking, but Ron was not violent.
Not only were there Death Eaters to deal with on the outside, he realized, ones they would have to deal with eventually, but they now had to deal with internal enemies.

Ones skilled in the Imperious curse...

His eyes landed upon the whimpering woman nearest the door, an unnaturally concerted expression upon her face.
* * * * *


Remorse... Guilt... Satisfaction....

The lifeless sight before her, the one she had so ruthlessly denied the right to live, ought to instill something within her.

Yet it did not.

Weasley's scathing diatribe, intermingling with her own cruelly uttered truths, resonated within the confines of her mind. Her eyelids finally flickered shut, seeking momentary respite as the pungent scent of scorching lumber rose from the dark recesses of her memory, encircling tightly around her.

She had killed, yet it did not feel as it ought. Nothing could have prepared her for the cold feeling of emptiness rotting away inside.

She felt empty inside, nearly undone, and perhaps this man lying lifelessly before her, evidencing her executed revenge, would be enough to shove her over the last crevice into the unreachable claws of cruelty.

For the life of her she could not summon one iota of remorse, for he had stood by during the slaughter, having the power to stop it, yet failing to act.

He was as guilty as those who had committed the crimes themselves.

Yes... She judged him.

The merciful, loving human she had once been was gone. It had been fading since the day the first monster had strode into her home, extinguishing the wicks of life burning upon her brother and grandmother's candles.

It had finally died the night she learnt the truth, for the tragedy in her young life had not been enough. The sick gods governing existence had not yet had their fill of her pain, her grief...

The scent of thick ash once again filled her nostrils, the painful realization that it was her own lifeblood pulling upon the ground, intermingling with her remaining brother's...

The pain her body now felt paled in comparison to the pain of what she had done. The lengths she had gone to survive that night...

The pain pouring unspoken from her lips was silenced as another voice rose up, saturated with the hate she felt burning within herself.

Potter...

"Let him go." He growled angrily. Though it was not his voice that drove her eyes to open, it was the tense feeling of his hand encircling her wrist, tugging her, forcing her to move until she was positioned directly behind him.

The muscles in his arm shook, vibrating with fiery intensity, rattling her own arm as well, yet her questioning gaze fell unnoticed, unseen upon the back of his dark head.

His attention was elsewhere, fixated upon a prematurely gray haired woman sitting nearest to the door.

It took her a moment to realize that the Weasel had already been stunned, and that his induced fury was on her behalf.

"Your idea... Clever really." Potter continued sardonically. "But I'd really love to know why you targeted her." The gesture of his head left no question that it was her to whom he was referring.

Confused she allowed herself to be led forward by Potter, closer to the irritated woman, whose eyes no longer quite met their own. "So..." He continued. "Is it because you're just another brain washed Ministry pawn, or does your leader closely resemble a snake?"

His voice was becoming rather snakelike himself... Or it could be her head, which was still reeling from her previous feat.

"Harry what..." Hermione sounded hesitant, and Kally's own eyes flicked over in time to see Hermione's dark ones flitting from one end of the room to the other, between the woman and Ron, then between Ron and a shattered plant holder.

Suddenly the brown haired girl, clutching her side, was staggering to the Weasel's, scattering broken bottles in her wake.

The woman watched her progress with a foul expression. "Whatever it is that you are insinuating boy, you should know that I am a Ministry official...

Potter let out a barking laugh. "I'm supposed to be impressed by that aren't I?"

"Considering that you are committing a crime by keeping that thing alive..."

"The last time I checked the use of Unforgivables was a crime as well." He countered, slipping his fingers into her own reassuringly. "So why did you use it on a 16 year old Wizard?"

"And as Ministry official, Leanne, surely you know that the use of an Unforgivable on an Underaged Wizard merits a longer sentence in Azkaban." The other patron, looking to be in his mid-thirties chimed in, smiling like the cat that ate the canary.

Potter's acknowledged neither the new conversationist nor the Weasel's sudden ramblings as Hermione brought him back to consciousness.

"Why Amarante, what brings you to England? I thought your belligerent parents would have taught you well enough to stay away."

Amarante waggled his eyebrows in an oddly familiar way. "Well you know Très and I, never too far from trouble."

It suddenly dawned on her that Amarante was a spitting image of Professor Très.

"We should go." Luna called dreamily, her form barely visible from beneath the curtained windows she was peering out of.

"Why?" Potter voiced urgently. "Do you see someone coming?"

"No..." She called, emerging from beneath the drapery. "Just a feeling Harry. I think the Ira's are trying to tell me something..."

"Ira's?" Questioned Leanne incredulously. "You're all mad... I don't know what they teach you at that pathetic school of yours..."

"Hogwarts is not pathetic!" Snapped Neville, his own wand drawn and leveled at the disgusted looking woman.

"Neville's right. Hogwarts is really wonderful." Luna commented. "And Ira's are real." She added as an afterthought.

Amarante appeared greatly amused. "Ah, well at least the students are too put off by my brother's teaching methods are they Leanne."

Leanne scowled, but Amarante wasn't done.

"So let me guess Leanne. You're considering turning her..." He gestured towards where she stood in Potter's protective grip, "in to the Ministry, and were too much of a coward to confront her yourself, which is why you put the red headed, stuttering boy over there under the Imperious. Is that it?"

The woman was beginning to look like a cornered animal. "I have every right to do so! That thing is a monster..."

She internally cringed at the words she knew to be true.

"A monster that should be put down! And as for you!" She hollered, turning to Potter. "Consorting with such a thing! Why I never...."

"You ungrateful wench!" Interrupted Weasley. "They both helped save you're pathetic arse and all you can do is holler at them! How dare you!"

Amarante visibly yawned, and in a heartbeat his wand was out.

"Obliviate!"

The deafening roar of Potter, Luna, and Amarante all attempting to extinguish the woman's memory at once sent the wench's head snapping back into the wall, her eyes dazedly rolling around before unconsciousness took her.

"Well that solves that." Amarante muttered cheerfully, dusting his hands together. "The name's Amarante by the way. I was supposed to be visiting with my brother this weekend but well..." The man shrugged sheepishly, his ear length hair falling into his eyes. "Got knocked out by him instead. Ruddy Imperious wasn't something he could ever throw off very well unfortunately."

She hardly heard the rest of his words, for she had broken away from Potter's grip, dropping besides Dean's unconscious form.
* * * * *


No sooner had Kaylens released his hand than Amarante turned his wand on the remaining conscious patron. "Sorry dear but.... Obliviate!"

Hermione's critical look as Amarante finished putting the patron to sleep was answered with an air of apology.

"Can't leave her free to turn the girl in either now can we?" He pointed out. "No offense but the British Ministry of Magic is a bit outdated in their laws and views. Australia has the decency to leave unusual species alone as long as they are not harming anyone."

Harry nodded his thanks gratefully. Enough had gone wrong today. They could not afford to leave any lose ends lying around.

"Is it unusual that no one here is dead?"

Luna's question was met by five bewildered gazes. Only then did Harry realize that she had not been merely milling around the entire time, but that she had been checking the other patrons to see if they were alright.

Her question did not seem to set well with him, nor Neville apparently.

"Isn't that a good thing?" He asked warily.

Luna's mouth opened, but Ron cut her off. "No Neville...It's not... Think about it, why would Death Eaters even bother attacking if it were not to kill? All of us are alive, and they aren't that incompetent. I thought for sure my number was up when that green curse hit me but it wasn't Avada Kedavra, I can tell you that much."

Hermione elicited an odd noise, but Ron went on. "And think about it. Why didn't they off Harry when they had the chance?" He glanced at him sheepishly. "Er...Sorry mate... But you know what I mean."

He nodded. "It's okay Ron."

Ron nodded, glancing at Kaylens now. "Sorry about earlier Kaylens. I may not like you but I would never..."

"I know." She replied without a glance. It was apparent that her concern was not for herself, but for Dean.

And the expression crossing her face as she peered closely at his ear was disconcerting...

"You're quite right young man." Amarante commented, yanking on his earlobes. "If I could venture a guess I would say that this whole..." He waved a hand around for emphasis. "Debacle was merely a way to distract us from something far more sinister."

Far more sinister...

Harry did not like the sound of those words.

"Whatever their aim was I suggest we leave." Ron was pacing now. "But if Amarante is right then they won't exactly let us walk right out of here..."

Luna's gaze was drifting towards the rear exit. "Our best shot is the woods."

"The Forbidden Forest? Wonderful..." Remarked his red headed friend, looking thoroughly put out.

"No...She's right." Kaylens voice was oddly strained, her brow creased with concern as she continued examining Dean. "If I create a distraction one of us should be able to make it back to the school, Death Eaters or not."

Everyone, with the exception of Luna, looked at her oddly.

"What do you mean by distraction?" Neville asked warily.

"I mean I go out, drawing their attention away from those of you going into the woods." She huffed.

Hermione and Amarante were both shaking their heads.

"I can't condone allowing a teenager to put themselves in harms way." Amarante stated flatly, all trace of lightness gone from his voice.

"If they are not aiming to kill I'll be fine." Kaylens spat icily. "You were so sure of that a minute ago."

The older man's jaw dropped, leaving Harry with an uneasy feeling. "Kaylens I don't...."

She cut him off.

"Look! No one else may be hurt severely but Dean needs help." She said heatedly, gently fingering his ear. "His skull is fractured, and from the looks of it badly."

"How do you know that?" Ron challenged disbelievingly.

Her penetrating stare bored into him. "The human brain is encased in a protective fluid, and if it's fractured badly enough it can ooze out through the auditory cavities..."

"His ear..." Hermione supplied, responding to the confused looks upon his, Ron's, and Luna's faces.

Ron seemed to be having trouble accepting it. "And you're a healer since..."

Her shoulders visibly stiffened, a flash of anger passing within her eyes. "Since I've seen it before Weasley. Now do you want to argue or help your friend?"

The red head threw up his hands. "No need to get testy...."

Harry interrupted them before it could escalate farther. "We have to go. No more time for discussion."

Kaylens nodded, rising from Dean's side. "For once I actually agree with him."

Her voice was firm, steady, a steely glint in her eye as she tore her eyes away from her fallen friend. "He needs help and he needs help soon. We need to move."

"Someone is going to need to stay here." Neville pointed out. "Merlin knows what a Death Eater would do to an unconscious Muggle-born... Not to mention Madame Rosmereta and Lara."

"I'll stay." Came Hermione's voice, earning her a startled look from all parties. She shrugged sadly. "For once I'll admit that I can't do something. My ribs... I'm sure they're broken. There's no way I could outrun anyone right now."

Ron's face became drawn. "Fine. But you're right about one thing Mione. You're in no shape to fend for yourself at the moment. So someone else needs to stay behind."

Harry's eyes flew around the room, taking in the possible volunteers. There were the two patrons, Neville, Kaylens, Ron, and Luna.

"I'll stay." Neville volunteered. "I'm not in as good of shape as the rest of you. I'd have trouble outrunning them as well."

Ron's eyes narrowed onto him approvingly. "And that's something we intend to fix once this is over."

A sly smile crossed Neville's face. "The quicker you get out of here the sooner we can get started."

Ron nodded. "Alright. Hermione, you and Neville take Dean into the girl's restroom. Well prop the back door open so if anyone does come back they'll think we went out through the kitchens."

Harry eyed his friend carefully, admiring the idea. "And the rest of us will go out the men's restroom window. It leads right into the alleyway between here and Dervish and Bangs. Then Luna, Ron, and Kaylens can try to make it back to Hogwarts while Amarante covers me..."

She let out a protest, but a wave of his hand silenced her. "You're not going. End of discussion."

"I should create the distraction." Amarante countered.

"No." Harry replied, shaking his head decisively. "We need a distraction, and the bloody Boy-Who-Lived is going to give them one. I doubt the Death Eaters, orders to not kill or not, will be able to resist the chance to have a go at me. Besides, you're the more experienced wizard, so your aim is probably better than mine."

Amarante eyed him apprehensively, before a cheeky grin lit up his eyes. "Well alright then." He said, clapping him on the back. "Death Eater target practice. Looks like you're not going to have all the fun after all there Harry."

As Amarante went to help Luna with the bracing of Dean's neck, and the moving of his imp form, all the while whistling a Muggle show tune, Harry wondered who exactly he had just asked to cover for him.
* * * * *


Her skull ached.

The pinpoints of bright light speckling her vision needed to be sprayed away with a very large hose.

Preferably a power hose.

Groaning she attempted to dislodge herself from the crevice between the back and front seats that her bum had fallen into, the blinding pain in her shoulder letting her know that indeed, it had been dislocated.

Collapsing onto the almost slimy, rain soaked leather of the back seat she took stock of the situation, the tree branch jutting through the front windshield, ending where Emily's head should have rested, had she not been curled into a whimpering ball upon the floor mats.

Thank God Kenneth had forgotten about belting her in.

She had to get them out of there, and was now trying the handle, discovering the door to be wedged shut by another tree, for the car had veered off, bouncing from the ditch into the wooden area keeping pace with the road itself.

Her fingers found the automatic window key, pressing until she realized that it too, was nonfunctional.

She nearly swore, bracing against the opposite door and kicking out, feeling the resistance of the glass and the window curved out, buckling back in against her bruised feet. The grimace of pain was taking over her face, droplets of water from her mousy hair intermingling with her sweaty tear droplets as she continued her violent, desperate onslaught, watching the splintering spider web crawling across the glass...

Cringing she turned away, the splintering of the window giving way to hundreds of glittering shards flying amongst the sparkling lights already within her vision.

The oozing gash in her calf barely registered, distracted as Kenneth's cataleptic form slipped upon the slick wheel till the brunt of his weight bore down upon the horn, the blaring vibrations of it's constant, single noted beep shattering the afternoon silence that until then, had only been broken by the sound of the still groaning engine and the pounding rain.

Reaching over the seat she sent him slouching upon the door, the blood slicked horn falling silent as his weight fell away.

There was no need to allow the sound to attract any unwanted attention, for Dementors could move fast, though a car could move faster. But how long they had been out, how far Kenneth had driven before succumbing to the creature's effects, slumping over the wheel, and how long the creatures had had to make up the distance between...

She did not know the answer to any of these things, and could not afford the price of drawing them near if they had made it to their vicinity.

The President's nose was clearly broken, the cartilage sufficiently contorted to have allowed a free flow of blood from it upon the wheel. Now the clumping cruor could be seen, clustering upon his upper lip as if he had been eating a sadistic lollipop flavored for the vampiric sort.

She had to get them out of here, that much she owed him for saving her.

In the face of half a dozen Dementors Kenneth had managed to maintain his composure, not breaking down as she nearly had, and he had been without the benefit of a protective Patronus.

This Muggle was made of stronger stuff than the most battle hardened of wizards.

Contorting herself as best she could, she slithered out the window, clinging to the rain soaked roof for balance. Her sleeve snagged upon a glass shard embedded within the window frame, and her palm slid from the roof, barely catching against the thin tree trunk responsible for thwarting her previous efforts to open the door, and somehow this steadied her.

One arm dangling limply at her side she clambered to the ground in rain soaked clothing, her onyx boots matching the ever-increasing darkness of the sky.

Then her world lit up, a pair of headlights from the road turning to shine blindingly onto them.

Skidding up the muddy incline she began yelling for the device her Muggle father always carried around, a mobular something or other, but her hasty ascent halted abruptly, shock erupting through her entire being as the car door opened and slammed, a figure stepping into the headlight's beam.

Sirius Black was silhouetted within them.
________________________________________


Recommended Stories of the Week:

Protector of Mankind by IchigoPan Rated: 15+
Strange events from the past affects the present in the life of Alexis Kanno. All she knows about the power running in her veins are that they are her own to control. Little did she know that there are two sides to her abilities.

Fallen Auror by Fallen Auror Rated: Mature
With the fall of Voldemort he was ready to let his dreams come true. However, the serenity did not last for Harry Potter as the Wizarding world plunged into decay by its own greed. Haunted by his mistakes and sickened by the corruption he decided to go it alone. But does he fare any better…

This is perhaps the most unique story that I have thus far encountered in the realm of fanfiction, for it takes place within the distant future, using a Film Noir Genre, while possessing a unique flair for twisting the most despondent of situations into cleverly woven mystiques.
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"No one is truly evil. They simply see things from a different point of view."
~ A.K. Lovell ~

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Chapter 22 ~ Amongst Us ~ Part 2


"In the long history of bad ideas, this one is the worst!" Weasley muttered, staring apprehensively down the alley, the threshold of the Forbidden Forest looming menacingly at him.

"Look on the bright side." Potter grunted, releasing his hold on the windowsill, dropping onto the dirt strewn ground. "If there are Death Eaters out there Aragog probably ate them first."

Weasley paled considerably, contrasting with the warms hues cast about the alley by the sun's dying light. The year was growing late, and the early hour of the setting sun would perhaps aid he and Luna on their task of remaining unseen in the forest's shadows.

Or at least Kalliandra hoped so.

Luna's striped orange and black socks appeared out the restroom window, and she dropped from the sill to the dusty ground, landing rather elegantly despite the large cloud of dust rising around her. Spying this the girl smiled, squatting down to spray a fine stream of water from the tip of her wand, right onto a sizeable dirt pile.

Her brow wrinkled curiously at this, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips as Luna plunged her hands into the murky concoction, stirring it around as if it were pudding.

"Hey gang, it's clear... The roof." Amarante hissed from his precarious position atop two trash cans. "Give me two minutes and then I'll be ready to cover you."

"Kaylens?" His calloused hand fell onto her arm, a determined expression on his face. "You're going with Luna and Ron."

The way he stated it left no room for question, but plenty for argument, her fiery eyes telling him pointedly that she was not about to acquiesce his request so easily.

"Please, no arguments." He added, as a gust of wind tunneling down the alley sent his unruly hair into his eyes. The way his nose wrinkled in annoyance as he shoved it away, disentangling it from his glasses, was almost laughable.

But there was nothing laughable about a perfectly healthy person wanting to risk their life when someone of no consequence was available.

Someone like her...

She sighed exhaustedly, her muscles filled with the dull ache of her earlier overextension. If only doing such things was less painful...

"At least tell me why you want to go alone." She wh