Author's Note:
Thank you all for reading. Enjoy. All praise to JK Rowling.
Draco looked up to see the welcome he had received and shrunk away from it wincing, his hands held in front of him.
Hermione had had nearly nothing to do with him so far this year. Although in thinking on it, she realized that she shared more classes with him than with either Harry or Ron. But he hadn't bothered her. He hadn't done anything to make up for his years of being an unutterable dick-wad either, though, so she hadn't really spared him a moment's thought. And strangely, looking at him now, as slight and pale and pointed as he had always been, her first thoughts weren't whether he belonged here in this room, but rather whether or not Snape knew where his head boy stood on this chilly evening in late October.
"Please lower your wands, Gentlemen," Dumbledore said levelly. "And Mr. Malfoy, please come here."
Draco adjusted his steel grey suit jacket and walked towards him. When he got there Dumbledore crooked a pointer at him and leaned his head in, indicating that he wished a private conversation. When he spoke however, his modulated undertone was perfectly audible to everyone in the room.
"I must admit I am both surprised and pleased to see you here tonight, Draco."
He placed a hand on his shoulder, and brought him in even closer. The two were of a height and Dumbledore's eyes delved searchingly and evenly into Draco's across the short gap.
"And while in a few days time, over a warm cup of tea, I would love to hear why you have chosen to come to this meeting tonight, I'm afraid that we haven't the time just now. "
He smiled, and tightened his grip on his shoulder.
"For know I just need for you to answer a few questions for me honestly."
Draco looked up at him, and from where she was sitting in the front row, Hermione could see his brave face beginning to break as his dark eyes began to fill, and his narrow, delicate chin begin to shake.
"Do you believe this world will be a better place without Lord Voldemort in it?"
Draco was crying freely now, but his voice didn't even falter as he replied,
"Yes,"
"And do you understand that if you do choose to stand with us that may result in injury to yourself, even death?
He was gently shaking away his tears now, his head held tall.
"Yes,"
"And finally… and understand I wouldn't ask this unless I felt it absolutely necessary, Draco. "
Dumbledore's voice softened
"Does your father know where you are?"
Draco lost it, crumbling into the older man's shoulder, but everyone heard his response, muffled though it was,
"No,"
He patted him briefly, and smiled up at the Blaise's mother who had been standing with her son on the inside of the semicircle. As Draco dislodged himself Dumbledore gently gestured them all to some empty chairs and said,
"Miz Jeanette, how lovely to see you again, please make yourself comfortable."
He turned his attention back to the group at large and said,
"Perfect. Now that that is cleared up, I ask that we return to the matter at hand. "
"Professor." Ron was the only one still standing up, although the twins were looking more tightly coiled than usual, and while Mad-Eye had lowered his wand he certainly hadn't pocketed it.
"Mr. Weasley, we are on a schedule."
"Yeah, one that can be completely ruined by anyone thick enough to trust this git."
Dumbledore looked at him appraisingly and Ron blushed.
"…No offence meant, Professor."
Hermione tugged on his sleeve, and whispered,
"Ron, let it go,"
"No, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley has a right to voice his concerns if he believes them relevant to the cause. That is how a democratic collective should function. "
"Well,"
Ron had the floor and every eye was on him. He swallowed and stood up a little straighter.
"I can't trust him."
Malfoy was on the edge of his seat looking unsure of whether or not he should stand up during this exchange.
"Hm. I asked Mr. Malfoy some questions just now hoping to answer that rather fickle question of trust. And I, obviously, came to the conclusion that my trust would not be misplaced in this young man. I asked my questions in the clear view of everyone hoping that while, undoubtedly they would have questions of their own, my experience would allow them to trust my judgment in this. You are saying that my judgment is not enough for you?
Ron was beet red but he didn't so much as stutter.
"Not in this professor."
"Than you must do something to either change your mind or prove your doubts, and do it quickly. I'll have you know that if I allowed every person in this room to question their childhood rivals we'd be here until the twelfth of Never."
"Ok, just…" Ron walked over just as Malfoy was standing up. The redhead glanced back at Harry and swallowed. Draco's eyes were dry, if slightly red and he glared at Ron evenly.
"What, Weasley?" His glance darted towards the center of the room where the large clutch of Weasleys stood. "… What could I possibly say…?"
The look in Ron's eye and the timbre of his voice took Hermione aback. She had never seen the man in him, not like this.
"What do you love, in this world?"
Draco snorted, smirking and shaking his head, but there was a crease of concern knitted between his thin brows.
"You owe him an answer," Dumbledore's voice was soft. "We would all appreciate an answer."
Draco dropped his head, and you could hear a pin drop. However when he answered he looked Ron directly in the eye.
"Nothing…"
Ron closed his eyes. When he opened them his lashes were wet.
"…Nothing except for my life. And if I let my father dictate what I do with it, it won't last long…"
He looked for the first time towards Harry, and Hermione, and tentatively at the entire assembly.
"… and if it does it won't be a life worth living. I mean, the things they make you do, you wouldn't believe,"
He was getting worked up now.
" I was sixteen, sixteen when they branded me. Sixteen when they made me a murderer. That's not the life of a man, that's the life of a monster…"
"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore touched him lightly on the shoulder. "I believe I said earlier that tonight we don't have time for the whys and the wherefores."
He nodded and, glancing over to where Ron stood, still as a stature, he went back to his seat.
As Ron was going to sit down Dumbledore cocked an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction.
"Well, I'm still not going to invite him 'round for tea and toast anytime soon, but I guess we can use all the support we can get."
Slowly Hermione felt the tension in the room begin to dissipate.
'Good, good," Dumbledore said softly to himself. He appeared to be lost somewhere in the middle distance for a few moments before shaking himself back into the present. Hermione thought that she understood. This wasn't the first time Dumbledore had found a soul teetering on the brink of oblivion and cast it a line.
"Now, without further delays… "
Once again his voice boomed over the crowd, holding everyone's attention perfectly captive.
The reason I have called you all here tonight is because at break of day tomorrow, Mr. Potter has decided to confront Voldemort."
There was a measurable amount of shuffling and muted exclamation at this. Hermione gave Harry a motherly pat on the knee.
"There is nothing special, magically or historically, about October the 29th, however it was chosen as the ideal date due to the fact that it is now, rather than later. We have chosen morning for the simple reason that it will grant us light, and perhaps separate our foes from the darkness in which they prefer to dwell. So that covers the When. As for the Where, we will be calling on Tom Riddle at his most recently known whereabouts, a small island in the Orkneys at which he has been spending much of his time of late."
Harry got up to join Dumbledore. He quickly and nervously looked about the collection of friends and strangers before speaking.
"And as for the Who, that's kind of the most important. Because if everything goes well, I hope most of you won't see any fighting tomorrow. We're going to organize four tiers of offense. The first, headed by Dumbledore and I, will be arriving by non magical transportation. We can't apparate in because the island is so well warded, and we can't well, lay siege, because that would just be asking for the exact type of war we don't want. If we need to call in the reinforcements, the second tier will apparate in at our call… we'll make sure there is a way open to you. We've organized tier leaders, so just hold tight and they'll call their members in a minute."
He swallowed and glanced quickly to Dumbledore before continuing.
"We'll do everything we can to avoid it, but… if you are called up, come in prepared to fight. Hopefully the island will be pretty deserted at this time of day, which is frankly alright by me. It's Voldemort we want... He doesn't know it yet, but tomorrow will be a very big day for him."
Hermione's stomach clenched. She looked at Harry and, hating herself, wondered for the first time if Snape would be equal to the enormity of his task tonight. If he gave anything of their plan away they could be walking straight into a trap. Would they be able to tell… to sense… if Voldemort broke him? Wouldn't Dumbledore?
Wouldn't she?
But she couldn't dwell on it. The large group had broken up into smaller ones and names were being called and shoulders tapped. The secondary and tertiary tiers would soon head off to their safe apparition points outside of the castle, and the fourth tier would head back to a safehouse in London, prepared to, if everything was turned on it's ear, contact the few remaining trustworthy members of the ministry, the E.U.'s and U.N's Wizrding contingencies… anyone who would listen.
She couldn't believe how much she ached for Snape to be here, stoic and strong, at her side. She hated that he was forced to continue his charade, even for one more night. But she swallowed her fears and apprehensions. Briefly, she thought of her parents, completely oblivious to danger at home in London. If she stopped kidding herself she could recognize that they were in much more danger than she had ever been able to admit to herself these past few months.
She steeled herself, and walked to Harry's side.