LANCASTER / H. POTTER

TEN POINT FIVE

"Lee Jordan, that smarmy git," Fred muttered jogging behind George towards the portrait of The Fat Lady. "Having us out after curfew for nothing."

"You act as if you've never been out after curfew for less than that," George replied with an amused smile at his brother's antics. Fred stopped in his tracks. "Plus, isn't it fun to mess with Filch a little bit?

Fred didn't answer, instead, pressing a lone finger to his lips, signaling to George to be quiet. They stood still for a brief moment, before hearing something from down the corridor. A quiet strangled cry and hacking coughing. George looked at Fred with an alarmed look on his face, and without any hesitation; the two of them went running in the direction of the noise, throwing the caution for Filch and Ms. Norris to the wind. 

The pain that once burned like a fire had faded away to an icy numbness. Black filled the edges of Copeland's vision and the only thing she could hear was her own stuttering heartbeat. Her breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. Copeland reached a shaking hand out, before letting it fall to the ground, using it as leverage to pull her forward. To where? She didn't know. But forward was her only option at this point, going back would only cause more damage.

"What in the world?" Copeland heard a familiar voice through the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. Footsteps approached her, but in her shell, Copeland still felt alone. Help had come but she didn't feel saved. Not after what she had seen. Death was inevitable soon enough, why not just let her die now?

"Copeland? Copeland! Blood hell-George! Get Dumbledore, Flitwick, Snape - I don't care get anyone! Someone!" Fred shouted, voice breaking. Soon, Copeland was being painfully turned over and through her blurry eyes, she could see Fred, his face morphed into an expression of distress. But through it all, he found it in him to make a joke; for his sake if not hers.

"Knew you were going to be a troublemaker, but this is just too much," He chuckled weakly, before squeezing his eyes shut, wand gripped in his trembling hand. "I know spells how to fix this, I just can't remember!" He growled, frustrated. He adjusted the grip on the injured girl, praying that George was fast.

"You are going to be fine, one of the Professors is going to fix you up, and everything will be fine," He breathed, watching as she faded in and out of consciousness, eyes unfocused. Her breathing was so labored, Fred could see how much strain just living was becoming. He brushed the hair out of her face, and her mouth opened, lips quivering, but Fred shut her down before she could even utter a sound.

"Save your strength, alright? You don't need to say anything," Fred told her, head snapping up when he saw George running back, no one trailing behind him.

"Dumbledore went to go fetch Snape, I ran ahead of them," George panted, kneeling next to Fred, who held Copeland to his chest. Copeland coughed, blood dripping from her lips, eye's dulling again. Fred shook her, eyes shining with unshed tears, and George grabbed her hand.

"No, no! Got to stay with us alright? U-Um, Fred?" George stammered, trying not to panic for both his brother's and Copeland's sake. Fred sniffled, wiping at his tears with his sleeve.

"Copeland! Half of that is Cope! You know what rhymes with Cope? Hope. And I hope, we can get you out of this alive!"

"FRED!"

"WHAT GEORGE, I'M PANICKING HERE!"

Only a few moments later, Dumbledore and Snape rounded the corner fast, wands in hand. Snape reached the three of them first.