Kell's idea of fine and Sirius's were very different, he'd learned, but for once, Sirius doesn't argue. He'll not let Kell bleed himself dry, of course, but he supposes a little bit of blood shed in an effort to find Harry isn't so big a deal. Though he'd much rather it were his own.

As entranced as ever, Sirius watches Kell perform his magic, painting the coin in the crimson red of his own blood before pressing it to the wall.

Unlike nearly every time before, nothing at all happens. But Kell doesn't move, his shoulders hunched as he tries a different incantation next, one Sirius easily recognizes from numerous times previous.

And still nothing happens.

"The coin's not good enough," Sirius decides because he refuses to consider the alternative. "He has an owl. Hedwig. She's back at the little cottage Harry moved into a few months back. Could you pluck a feather and use that?"