A look passes over Kell's face, an expression Sirius isn't certain he's ever seen on him before, as he grabs Sirius by the wrist and presses his hand to the wall. Smears of blood fill Sirius's vision as he hears Kell spit another incantation and the world suddenly tilts and ripples around them.

They spill into an alleyway, dropped hard onto wet pavement where upon lies Sirius's wand in a muddied puddle.

Or at least what remains of it.

"Merlin," Sirius breathes in horror, grabbing the upper half of what was once his wand, still etched in intricate runes, the core of it missing entirely. It feels impossibly light in his hand and not merely because it's been broken in half. His stomach twists, the dread in his belly boiling over into a wave of panic as he looks up.

Kell stands before him bloodied and worn, exhausted and shredded by his own magic. A magic that could bring them to Sirius's wand but not to Harry. Not for any failing of Kell's magic but simply... simply because there's no longer a Harry to be found.

The realization crashes down upon him, blood draining from his face as he stumbles back, crashing against the brick wall behind him and crumpling to the ground.