Chapter Text
(italic text from linked tiktok)
Suddenly, Harry hears another voice coming from behind him - a human voice. He whips around, his wand drawn and ready to start firing spells. The inferi continue to make their way onto the small island. Only they aren’t going after him.
In the tangle of rotting corpses and decayed flesh, he spots a figure struggling desperately against them. The person is gasping for breath, barely managing to fight against the cold hands threatening to drown them.
Harry races forward. He grabs the person under their arms, pulling them backwards towards dry land and away from the dark creatures. They struggle against it at first before hearing Harry’s voice reassure them that he’s there to help, immediately complying.
Once they manage to retreat enough from the inferi, Harry helps the stranger to their feet. For the first time, they look up at him and he instantly jumps back in shock.
Sirius Black stands in front of him, alive and well. But that’s impossible, he thinks. Sirius is…Sirius is gone.
The stranger seems just as surprised to see him, fingers digging tightly into Harry’s forearms where he supports them.
“James? What are you doing here, how did you-” The stranger cuts themself off, eyes wide and blinking in confusion.
And Harry’s heart drops as he realises this can’t possibly be Sirius. He stares at the stranger’s eyes - one blue and one green - remembering the family portraits his godfather had shown him in Grimmauld Place. His throat feels thick then he finally speaks, barely managing to get the one single word past his lips.
“Regulus?”
-
Regulus blinked. That was not James Potter’s voice.
In fact, the closer Regulus looked, the clearer it became to him that the boy in front of him was not James Potter despite all the ways they looked alike. He was shorter than James and quite a bit skinnier, built more like a seeker - like Regulus - than the chaser James was born to be. His face was sharper too, full of angles where James had been soft and gentle. But his eyes were what truly gave him away. Instead of James’s warm hazel, staring back at Regulus was a brilliant green.
No, this was not James Potter.
“Who are you?” Regulus asked, searching his soaked sleeves for his wand and coming up empty. “Why did you save me?”
The boy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I don’t- I just wanted to help.”
“Why?”
If anything, the boy only looked more surprised.
“You were drowning,” he said as though this answered Regulus’s question. “Those things were going to kill you.”
“And why didn’t you let them?”
Regulus lit a bluebell flame in his hand and tried not to shiver in its imagined warmth. He was so tempted to pull his hand into his chest and curl around the cold fire until he felt whole again. But it was never a good idea to show your enemy weakness, especially if you weren’t yet sure what exactly they stood to gain.
Illuminated in the flickering blue firelight, the boy’s features seemed to soften and he became almost indistinguishable from the man he’d once…known. It was so easy to imagine James standing in front of him, saving his life despite everything. Because that’s just the kind of man James Potter was.
The boy opened his mouth to answer but, before he could say anything, another voice called out.
“Harry?”
Regulus froze. He’d heard that voice before. Even as a weakened whisper, it gave Regulus chills. The flame flickered out.
The boy - Harry, apparently - gave Regulus an awkward half-smile by way of apology and hurried over to where Albus Dumbledore was crouched by the empty basin, emerald stains on the corners of his mouth.
Regulus shuddered. That potion was the work of a man truly deranged. He remembered very little of the potion itself; he couldn’t recall the taste or the smell as Kreacher had poured it endlessly down his throat. But he remembered the earth-shattering pain it had brought with it.
(He remembered the first time his father taught him to duel, how he’d limped away from the training ground with blood pooling in his shoes knowing he’d have to do it again in the morning. He remembered the agony of watching his big brother writhing in pain on the parlour floor, his own voice casting the spell to slice his skin apart while their parents looked on. He remembered the look on James Potter’s face when he’d found out Regulus had taken the mark.
He remembered it all.)
“Water…” said Dumbledore’s weak voice.
“I’m trying, Professor,” said Harry desperately, jabbing a crystal water goblet with his wand. “Aguamenti! Aguamenti!”
The goblet filled and emptied with each spell and Regulus felt a creeping sense of dreadful familiarity. He watched from outside himself as Harry raced to the edge of the island and Regulus realised with horror what he was about to do.
“No! Wait!” He shouted. But it was too late.
Harry plunged the goblet into the icy depths, filling it to the brim with water which did not vanish. Just as Harry turned to hand the water to Dumbledore, however, a slimy white hand wrapped itself around the boy’s wrist, making him spill the contents of the goblet clumsily over Dumbledore’s face.
Regulus didn’t think. He simply reacted.
He conjured another flame which swelled until it filled both palms, and threw himself forward, clamping his burning hands around the Inferius’s arm and ripping it away from Harry. The creature screamed - if such a sound could even be considered a scream - and fell back into the water with a splash. But more Inferi were beginning to heave themselves out of the water onto the rock, skeletal fingers digging into the stone as though it were clay.
For a moment, Regulus couldn’t move. A bone-deep panic filled his body as he imagined being dragged under by those creatures - again.
“Sectumsempra!” Harry yelled and his voice brought Regulus back to himself.
“Fire!” He yelled over the pounding of his heart, barely stopping to wonder where this unknown child would have learned a spell like that. “Their weakness is fire!”
“Incendio!”
Harry’s spell hit one of the Inferi square in the chest and caught another in the leg. They both went down. But it wasn’t enough. There were hundreds of Inferi piling onto the island, bringing the chill of death with them as they crept closer. Regulus stood back-to-back with Harry and held both hands up in front of him, focusing all his strength on conjuring a solid wall of flame. He wished he had his wand or even just some dry clothes. It was hard to stay focused on the flames when he felt like he’d never be warm again.
From behind him, Harry cried out and Regulus turned to find the boy wrapped up in the arms of an Inferius which was steadily carrying him back towards the water. Regulus felt ice wrap around his heart. He really did look just like James.
Regulus lunged forward, flames licking at his palms as he reached out for the Inferius before he felt a bitterly cold hand wrap around his ankle and his flame sputtered out. Moments ago, he’d thought it impossible that he’d ever feel more cold. But now, back in the arms of the creatures which had tried to drown him, he felt his blood freezing in his veins.
They weren’t making it out of here alive.
But then, through the darkness, fire erupted around them in a crimson ring. The Inferi holding the two of them released their grip and shied away from the light, dropping Harry heavily onto the slippery ground. For a terrifying moment, he seemed to slide towards the edge of the water as though he might fall in but he was on his feet again in an instant, wand at the ready, hand trembling.
It was then that Regulus realised he was dealing with a child. In a better situation, he might have laughed, Of course Albus Dumbledore would seek out a fragment of the Dark Lord’s soul with no-one but an unqualified teenage wizard for backup. Wasn’t that his entire war strategy in a nutshell?
Still, Albus Dumbledore was a sight to behold now. He was almost pale enough to be translucent but he stood tall, fire dancing in his eyes as it blazed around the island, wand raised above him like a torch wielding a fiery lasso. He gave Regulus a meaningful look as he began to move towards the boat, taking the ring of fire with him. Regulus put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and immediately pulled it back when the boy whipped round, green eyes wide and terrified and wand pointed directly at Regulus’s throat.
Neither of them said anything until Harry let out a shivering breath and whispered, “sorry.”
Regulus nodded. “This way.”
He followed Dumbledore, stepping carefully over the cowering form of the Inferius which had grabbed his ankle earlier and ushering Harry ahead of him. The flames flickered worryingly as Dumbledore stumbled towards the boat and Regulus felt his heart in his mouth. As much as he hated to admit it, Dumbledore was their last hope of getting out of here alive. There was simply no way Regulus could sustain that much fire without a wand.
“Mr Black,” Dumbledore said faintly, voice thin and thready. Regulus felt himself stand up straighter without really deciding to. “This boat will only permit one adult wizard aboard at a time. I fear we will not be able to make the crossing together.”
Regulus’s stomach dropped. They were going to leave him.
“Professor!” Harry gasped. “We can’t leave him here.”
“You misunderstand me, Harry,” said Dumbledore calmly. “It is I who will be staying behind.”
Harry looked dumbstruck. “What? But Professor…the potion! You’re-”
“Weak,” Dumbledore confirmed, sounding weaker by the moment. His flames flickered hesitantly and the Inferi stirred. “I fear I will be of no use to you.”
“But-”
“Mr Black,” Dumbledore continued, ignoring Harry’s protests and fixing Regulus with a hard stare. “This boat will return the two of you to the entrance of the cave. Once there, apparate somewhere you will not be found and contact Remus Lupin. Give him this.”
Dumbledore held out the locket and Regulus could have laughed.
“It’s not real,” he said, taking it and fiddling with the clasp until the locket sprung open, revealing the note he’d scratched out in a rush before leaving to meet his fate. “It’s a fake. I- I switched them.”
Then, Dumbledore looked at him with something unexpected, something like pride. Regulus had seen that look directed at Sirius by those same twinkling eyes and suddenly he understood its power, understood why Sirius had strayed from the family and into Dumbledore’s arms. That look was pure energy. It made Regulus feel warm.
“Then you already know what is at stake,” Dumbledore said, revealing his blackened hand.
Regulus frowned. “You put it on? I thought you were supposed to be brilliant? What kind of fool wears a cursed ring.”
“Cursed?” Harry yelped.
Regulus ignored him. He understood. “You’re dying,” he said bluntly.
Dumbledore inclined his head. Harry, who was looking frantically between the two of them, looked fit to burst.
“No! He’s not dying!” He growled. “You’re not dying, Professor. You can’t.”
The flames grew fainter once again.
“Harry, do you remember the promise you made to me? You swore…”
“To do whatever you said, yes, I remember,” Harry interrupted. “But- but-”
Dumbledore smiled softly, a dull twinkle in his eye. “Harry, my boy,” he said and the flames grew duller still. “I must ask that you trust me.”
For an agonisingly long moment, Harry said nothing. He stared at Dumbledore as though seeing him for the first time, eyes darting across his face like he was searching for something. Regulus tried not to let this frustrate him though he was acutely aware of just how small and unstable their protective shield was getting.
“Do you trust me, Harry?” Dumbledore’s voice was growing weaker. The Inferi moved closer.
Harry swallowed. “Yes.”
Dumbledore nodded. He caught Regulus’s eye and then looked pointedly at the wand above his head. Regulus swallowed. Now or never.
“Four seems like a good number,” Dumbledore said casually. “Never do what they expect. One-”
Regulus took a deep breath and prepared himself.
“Two-”
He looked over towards Harry who looked pale and frightened and deliberately did not see anyone else in his features.
“Three-”
Regulus grabbed Harry’s hand. It was warm.
“Four.”
The fire flickered out and died as Regulus snatched the wand from Dumbledore’s hand and shoved Harry into the boat before climbing in after him. He was so relieved to finally have a wand again that he almost didn’t notice the thrum of raw power that shot up his left arm. As the boat started away from the island, Regulus breathed down into the core of his magic and yelled, “Incendio!”
The fire that erupted around him was far less controlled and sturdy than Dumbledore’s had been but it was stable enough to keep the Inferi from clawing at their vessel. Regulus shivered, risking a glance down into the icy depths. He wished he hadn’t. All he could think about was how close he’d come to joining them. So much of his energy was focused on the spell (and not tipping over the precipice of anxiety into full blown panic) that he was barely aware of Harry’s presence beside him.
He couldn’t look back, couldn’t bear to see Dumbledore dragged down into the water. It seemed such an unceremonious end for someone so admired and trusted in the wizarding world. Drowning. What a ridiculous way to go.
“No,” Harry whispered.
Regulus heard splashing from behind and risked breaking his concentration for a moment long enough to see Harry staring back towards the rock, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Don’t watch,” Regulus said between gritted teeth. “Trust me. It’s not pretty.”
Harry glared at him. Regulus didn’t try to say anything else. He could only hope they would round the corner before Harry had to watch his professor die. The boy didn’t deserve that.
But children rarely had much choice in war.
It took an agonisingly long time for them to reach the bend in the cave walls and it was only once he was sure they were out of sight of the rocky island that Regulus chanced another look at Harry. The boy was pale and shivering, dull green eyes staring out into the distance, unseeing. Regulus swallowed. He’d never exactly been gifted when it came to handling other people’s emotions, especially the difficult and complicated ones - like grief. Truthfully, he had no idea what to say or do to make Harry feel any better about losing a man who clearly meant a lot to him.
So he said nothing, like the coward Sirius had told him he was.
Instead, he took a moment to think about Sirius. He’d sent a rushed note to his brother before he’d set out for the cave. It hadn’t said much. It contained none of the apologies or explanations Sirius deserved, no requests to reconcile or repair the deep-rooted bond they’d had as children.
The note had been short and to the point:
Horcruxes
- R.A.B.
Regulus hadn’t seen much point in asking for forgiveness in his suicide note, after all.
Now, somehow still alive with his mission accomplished, he let himself think about his brother in real terms for the first time in many years. For so long, Sirius had been a spectre on his shoulder. Regulus had carried Sirius with him everywhere since the summer of 1976 when he’d watched his brother pick himself up off the bloodied parlour floor and slip out of the house without so much as a goodbye.
He’d thought about Sirius as he’d stood in front of the Dark Lord at the age of sixteen and been branded. He’d gritted his teeth through the pain and imagined the same look on Sirius’s face under his mother’s Crucio.
He’d thought about Sirius as he’d killed muggles and muggle-borns in the name of the Dark Lord and wondered what his brother would think of him now. Would Sirius still think he was weak?
He’d thought about Sirius every single day but he’d never truly stopped to think about whether Sirius would ever want to see him again. Now, with that very real possibility looming ever closer as their vessel sailed, Regulus felt a familiar anxiety settle in his stomach. Perhaps he’d never truly grown out of being that wide-eyed little boy who wanted to be just like his incredible big brother. He could only hope Sirius hadn’t either.
Regulus felt a sudden rush of cold air and abruptly noticed his fiery shield was much duller and smaller than it had been as the boat set off. He also noticed that he was shivering so violently that the boat was starting to rock. Or perhaps that was the work of the Inferi trapped just below the surface by the flames. He’d barely noticed the cold when it had been all he could feel but now, with the allure of fire all around him, he felt unbearably chilled.
Harry appeared to have noticed the same thing.
“Dumbledore,” Harry began, flinching a little as he said the name. “He did a spell that dried my clothes when we first got here. If you know the incantation, I can try it for you.”
Regulus shook his head but quickly stilled when the movement made him feel dizzy. “We’ll have to swim outside of the apparition boundary.”
He didn’t have the energy to explain his fear that he simply wouldn’t have the strength to get into the freezing water again if he let himself warm up. Harry appeared to understand. Still, he seemed troubled and the concerned look he gave Regulus was painfully familiar.
Finally, the boat bumped onto the bank by the cave entrance. With graceful elegance, Harry climbed out of the boat and reached a hand out for Regulus who was far too tired and drained to consider refusing it. As he stepped onto solid ground, Regulus let his pathetically small ring of fire fizzle out with a defeated hiss. None of the Inferi tried to climb out of the water and both Harry and Regulus sighed in relief.
Regulus leaned heavily against the cavern wall, too exhausted to keep his eyes open. Without the spell to channel his energy into, he felt weak and blurry, like he wasn’t quite of this world anymore. He couldn’t stop Dumbldore’s wand from slipping out of his fingers and clattering onto the stony ground.
Harry scooped up the wand and tucked it away along with his own which gave Regulus a jolt of anxiety at being once again unarmed. But it was difficult to be afraid of a boy who had moments ago offered to dry his clothes for him while they were in the middle of fleeing for their lives. There were, after all, some things in life people simply couldn’t experience together without developing some degree of trust; escaping certain death was definitely one of them.
“Come on,” said Harry’s voice in his ear just before he felt the boy grab his arm and sling it across his shoulders. “It’s not far.”
So, this was trust.
Regulus let himself be guided around the lake, doing his best not to lean too heavily against Harry. Some of it couldn’t be helped but it made him feel better to know he wasn’t forcing a child to bear too much of his weight. He’d spent enough of his life leaning on Sirius, letting his brother shoulder everything he never could. It didn’t seem fair to push that burden on anyone else.
When he saw Sirius, he’d apologise. And if Sirius punched him in the face? Well, that was surely the least he deserved.
“The archway,” Regulus breathed as the stone wall came into view, blocking their path. He lifted his arm, ready to push his wrist into a sharp jut in the rock when Harry grabbed his hand to stop him.
“No, you’re too cold,” he said quickly, waving his already bloodied palm in front of Regulus’s face. “I got cut on the rocks. Just tell me where.”
Regulus took hold of Harry’s wrist with one shaking hand and guided it to the correct spot. The archway opened and Regulus barely had a moment to steady himself before Harry set off again, leading them through the outer cave and finally stopping at the edge of the rock where icy seawater lapped fiercely at their feet.
“Ready?” Harry asked.
Regulus didn’t trust himself to say anything positive so he simply nodded and let Harry help him into the freezing water, swearing colourfully under his breath as the chill shot through his limbs.
“It’s going to be fine,” Harry said, perhaps more than once. Regulus couldn’t be sure. He didn’t have the energy to say anything back.
He was so cold that the water started to feel almost warm.
Finally, they broke free of the cave walls and were drenched in soft moonlight. He scrambled up onto the nearest boulder with a great deal of help from Harry and pushed himself to his feet, staggering onto a more stable part of the rock. The chill of the air after the water made his eyes sting but he did nothing to keep the tears from falling. He couldn’t afford to waste the effort.
“I can apparate us both,” Harry said and Regulus really did cry a little then from sheer relief.
“Somewhere we won’t be found,” Regulus said through chattering teeth.
Harry nodded. “Got it.”
He pulled out his wand, tugged Regulus close, and started to turn. One…two…
The smell of salty sea air was gone, replaced by dust and decades-old furniture polish. Through his blurry vision, Regulus recognised the entryway to his family home in an instant. It looked darker and far dirtier than his mother would normally have allowed but this was the least of his worries.
“I said somewhere we wouldn’t be found!” He whispered, shoving himself up against the wall and pulling Harry with him.
“I know,” Harry said calmly. “But this was the safest place I could think of.”
“Are you mad?” Regulus asked, feeling dread pooling in his stomach.
Was this a trick? Had Harry rescued him from the cave only to deliver him straight into the Dark Lord’s waiting arms?
Feeling adrenaline flood his body, Regulus lunged towards Harry and snatched the boy’s wand out of his hand. He shoved Harry up against the wall and pressed the tip of the wand hard against his throat.
“Who are you?” He growled.
The wand bobbed as Harry swallowed nervously. “I’m- my name is Harry.”
“And who do you work for? Who sent you after me?”
“Nobody!” Harry said, looking up at Regulus with wide green eyes. “Please, Regulus. I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Expelliarmus!”
The wand was ripped out of Regulus’s hand. It flew down the hallway and Regulus turned just in time to see Remus Lupin snatch it effortlessly out of the air.
“Lupin?” He said incredulously. “What are you doing here?”
Lupin looked- well, he looked old. Of course, he’d always seemed much older than he was. He’d had grey patches in his hair for as long as Regulus had known him and he’d often looked drawn and worn out in school. The leathery scars cutting across his face did nothing but age him further. War had clearly not been kind to him.
Then again, had it been kind to any of them?
Lupin stepped forward, wand pointed directly at Regulus’s chest. He looked murderous.
“Are you alright, Harry?” He asked, keeping his eyes fixed on Regulus.
He held Harry’s wand out to the side, keeping it far enough away that Regulus couldn’t snatch it. Not that he’d have tried. Lupin was an excellent dueller. Regulus wasn’t stupid enough to challenge him one-on-one even if he’d had his own wand and two steady hands.
“Step away from him,” Lupin instructed, flicking his wand slightly to the side with a look that said he expected Regulus to comply. He did. “Harry, come here.”
Harry stepped towards Lupin, rubbing his neck gingerly, and took his wand only to be quickly grabbed by the wrist and yanked behind Lupin with an indignant cry. Lupin barely spared him a glance.
“Now,” Lupin said, mouth twitching into an expression which resembled a snarl. “Who the fuck are you?”
Regulus frowned. This was very much not on the list of questions he’d been expecting.
“What?” He said dumbly. “You know who I am.”
“I know who you look like,” Lupin said simply. “I want to know who you really are.”
Regulus felt distinctly like he might be developing hypothermia because nothing seemed to be making sense. There was no sane universe in which his brother’s half-blood werewolf boyfriend was quizzing him at the entrance to his pureblood fanatic family’s home.
“No tricks here, Lupin,” he said, feeling his teeth start to chatter again. He tried to clench his jaw to keep them quiet. “Ask me anything.”
Lupin frowned. “December 1976. Who did we catch snogging behind the tapestry on the fifth floor?”
It was such an absurd question that Regulus almost laughed. “Evan and Barty. You took house points and I gave them back.”
If anything, this only made Lupin frown harder. “What incantation opens the marauder’s map?”
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. I still think it’s a bit on the nose.”
“Impossible,” Lupin breathed, wand hand trembling just enough to be noticeable. “How are you here?”
Abruptly, Regulus remembered exactly where he was standing and felt a shudder run through him which had nothing to do with the cold. If Remus Lupin was here, he was quite certain of one thing: Grimmauld Place was no longer a Death Eater stronghold. The Order must have captured it.
(He wondered briefly what became of his parents before shoving the thought aside.)
Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about being turned over to the Dark Lord.
“Harry saved my life,” Regulus said at last, casting an apologetic look at Harry over Lupin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I threatened you. I thought you were leading me into a trap.”
“Uh, it’s fine,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “No harm done. Maybe…” He looked over at Lupin who was still staring at Regulus like he’d seen a ghost. “Maybe you can lower your wand now, Professor?”
Professor? Regulus thought. Since when?
It took a long moment for Lupin to put his wand away and even then he kept shooting glances at Regulus like he didn’t quite believe his own eyes.
“Merlin,” he sighed, running a hand over his face in a gesture which made him look even older. “Of all the people I expected to see…”
You and me both, Lupin, Regulus thought. You and me both.
“He knows about Voldemort,” said Harry and the mark on Regulus’s arm twinged at the mention of the name. “About how he keeps coming back.”
This caught Lupin’s attention and he opened his mouth like he was going to ask something. Probably several things.
Before he could, however, Regulus interrupted, “I’ll be happy to tell you everything I know when I’m not freezing my balls off. Can we get a fire going?”
As if noticing for the first time that Regulus was thoroughly drenched and listing badly to one side, Lupin cleared his throat and said, “Yes, of course. Sorry. Fire. In the kitchen. First door on your-”
“I know where I’m going, Lupin,” Regulus said tiredly, brushing past Lupin as he made for the kitchen. “It’s my house after all.”
“Right,” said Lupin quietly. “Right.”
It might have been his house but it certainly didn’t feel like the one he’d grown up in. Kreacher had always been incredibly house-proud and it was bizarre to see the place so run down and unkempt. There was dust everywhere, so much dust that the air reeked of it. The house had never smelled so empty before. The wallpaper that lined the hallway was coming unstuck in places and large chunks were missing entirely. The lamps along the walls were covered in cobwebs and dust which significantly dampened their reach, giving the place a gloomy, derelict feel.
Had it really only been a few months since he’d last seen the place? By the state of things, it looked like nobody had lived here for decades.
But Regulus didn't fancy standing around in the hallway to discuss the decor. He could almost feel the blazing warmth of the kitchen fire and at that moment he felt like he could have fought the Dark Lord himself just to get to it. He pushed the kitchen door open and almost wept at the sight of the fire roaring happily in the grate.
“Thank Merlin,” he whispered to himself, practically throwing himself down on the hearth in an effort to get warm.
Harry sat down next to him and handed him Dumbledore’s wand. “Think you can show me that clothes drying charm, now?” He asked with a small smile.
It was then that Regulus realised that Harry was also soaked and likely freezing. He scooted over on the hearth to let Harry get close to the fire and looked down at the wand in his hand. It didn’t feel like holding his own wand but it also didn’t exactly feel like holding someone else’s. He’d noticed the same feeling in the cave too. The wand wanted to be in his hand and it felt right to have it there.
“There’s no incantation. It’s all in the movement,” he explained, slowly demonstrating the pattern for Harry to copy. “Movement and intention. Think about what you want just like any other spell and-”
He performed the motion at the proper speed and hot air burst out of the wand’s tip but with much more force than Regulus had been expecting. How interesting. Still, he had more important things to worry about. He pointed the air stream first at Harry, who shivered in the rush of heat, and then himself. Their clothes began to steam as they dried out while Regulus slowly moved the stream of air between them, his movements becoming a lot steadier as the feeling returned to his fingers.
Harry attempted the motion a few times with little success. After a few more rounds of moving the hot air between them, Regulus felt warm enough to risk stopping for a moment to help.
“Almost,” he said. He wrapped his fingers carefully around Harry’s hand and moved his wand slowly through the correct movement. “Keep doing it slowly and build up speed. It’s more important to get it right first.”
He cast the spell again and spent a bit of time steaming Harry’s sleeves dry before returning to slowly shifting the air back and forth. Though his clothes were mostly dry, his skin screamed in the sudden heat and he felt exhaustion creeping up on him.
He might have fallen asleep right then and there if an unholy clatter hadn’t sounded from the hallway followed by a voice which sent anxiety shooting down his spine.
"Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth!"
Mother.