The Founders

Chapter 65

When Alexander heard the scrape of stone, his heart stopped.

The last few minutes of his life had been the worst that he had ever experienced. He had left Kyra to die. He sat with his head in his hands on the sofa across from the fireplace, taking no notice of the movement all around him.

After Kyra had closed the entrance on him, he had shouted himself hoarse, trying any means to re-open the fireplace. But when he came to his senses, he remembered why she'd done it, and freed the first and second years one by one; each one needed to be cushioned first and then have the rope cut.

The last child had just been brought down when Professor McGonagall had come bursting in. She fell against the door frame, clutching her heart, and staring at the scene, quickly followed by the other teachers.

They found Alexander white as a sheet, shaking, with young children lying on the ground around him and surrounded by the remains of rope. He explained as quickly as he could what had happened, and that Kyra was still trapped.

Then he sat down mutely on the sofa, and put his head in his hands as the teachers moved around him, gradually waking the first years up and escorting them to the hospital wing.

At the sound of grating stone, his head snapped up and he sprang to his feet, eyes wide in disbelief. Kyra stood in the opened entrance. Her blonde hair was matted and bloody, and blood spattered across her cheeks and forehead.

Her cheeks were grimy with dirt and tears and blood was dried in a wound on her temple. She stood, defeated, the sword trailing from her bloody hand, her eyes distraught.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He took a step forward and she stumbled into him. Burying his face in her neck, he gripped her, arms wrapped around her waist, and feeling her warm and alive beneath his fingers. She gripped the fabric of his shoulder tightly and sobbed once, clinging to him.

Then she lost all strength and collapsed into his arms, blacking out.