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Caelum breathed quick and shallow, skin bleached of color, and Harry fumbled in her potions bag, unable to find a blood replenisher quickly enough. A knife wound. How did you get a knife wound, Caelum? Idiot.
She cast a quick diagnostic charm, forcing herself to ignore the way he flinched at the wand movement, and cursed.
"'Sfine," he mumbled, stumbling. "'Snot 's bad as Crucio. I do that one all the time."
Harry went still. "You what?"
"'S mum's favorite spell."
"You're not going home after this," Harry said, voice hard and body shaking with rage. "You're coming with me."