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Chapter Thirty Four
The two weeks passed quicker than any of them could have imagined. For Hermione, that was possibly because most of her time was spent with her head stuck in a book. She saw Severus less than she liked, and he saw her less than he liked, but they both had equanimity and knew they had things to accomplish that were much more important than personal time.
After class on Friday, Hermione, Ginny, Lorrell, Ron, and Harry met in the common room. They had been telling the students they were planning on pulling an all evening study session on Friday when they would be free from their various clubs and classes. They had, in fact, actually gone and studied together as a group several times in the past two weeks to make their absence on Friday seem ordinary.
As a group, they left the common room with books, notebooks, and binders in hand as though they were actually going to be cramming. They chatted about school subjects and what to tackle first all the way down a roundabout path through the castle that just so happened to take them past the entrance to the headmistress's office. Covertly surveying the surrounding corridors, they swiftly took the staircase up without delay.
Hermione wasn't sure how Severus and Tonks were getting to the meeting. She only knew they were not present in the office with Minerva when they went to Floo.
"The powder is on the mantle, everyone. I trust you all know where you are going," said McGonagall to the group.
"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" said Harry confidently. He had proudly not mis-Flooed once since his disastrous attempt to find Diagon Alley.
The rest followed suit. Ginny, Lorrell, and Ron. At the last moment, they heard one more voice pop up.
"Wait! I'm here! Sorry! It was hard to sneak away from everyone."
Hermione turned, half surprised to see a winded and flushed Draco Malfoy almost collapse into Minerva's office. "Glad to see you could make it, Mister Malfoy," the headmistress admonished while looking over her lorgnette from her desk. "I was worried you were merely being quixotic."
"No, ma'am," said Draco.
"Well, off you go then. I'll be along in a moment."
Hermione held out the jar to him as he took a pinch and stepped into the fire. She followed shortly after, completely unprepared for the tumultuous ride. The twisting turns did a number on her, and she was spit unceremoniously out of the fire and onto the rug in the drawing room, barely escaping hitting the floor by the two strong arms that caught her.
Standing up, a bit wobbly, and brushing herself off, she looked at her rescuer. "Thank you, Remus," she told him.
"Never a problem to assist my wards," he told her, helping to brush off her robes.
"Ha," said a snarky voice from the corner. "And we all know that is true."
"Severus," Remus greeted the solemn man. "Oh, excuse me, Draco."
Draco didn't land so much as tumble into the drawing room, nearly bowling over Remus and Hermione in the process. The older man assisted him to his feet as well and helped put him to rights.
Hermione noticed Draco was dressed very smart this evening. She wondered if he was nervous. She wasn't aware of his being presented in front of the entire Order before, even though they all knew he had been working as a spy for the Order for a year, being a second eyes and ears at first, and then the only ones when Severus was no longer able.
The large group of people had assembled by port key, Floo, Apparition, and the front door. It was a good thing the house was in a provincial area of London, or they would be in greater danger, even with the residence protected as it was.
As Hermione stepped into the noisy kitchen with the men behind her, Molly was carrying around a salver with drinks and assorted crackers and fruit. "Come on then, everyone have a spot of tea and a biscuit. No use having rumbling bellies during the meeting. We may be here for a while! Oh, Hermione! Come in, come in. Remus. And Draco! Welcome! Here, have some tea. There's a good lad."
Draco was beyond bewildered and took the cup and saucer before taking a seat in the corner next to his godfather. That was apparently going to be the misanthropic end of the table this evening.
Hermione went to sit with them.
Sitting around the room, she was impressed at the amount of people present. Remus and Tonks, Minerva, all the Weasleys besides Percy, Draco, Hermione, Harry, Ron and Lorrell, Katie, Moody, Kingsley, Severus, and assorted others sat at the table and stood around it as well, chatting amiably.
Moody watched the motley crew come in, his magical eye swerving to Draco. It gazed at him from top to bottom, stopping where the Dark Mark would be. He gave the blonde boy a pointed look, but he wisely said nothing.
Katie was new to the group like Draco was, but she had definitely made an ally in Charlie while Molly looked on with a watchful eye. Remus and Tonks were taking a quiet moment to themselves while everyone seemed to just want to catch up on gossip.
Suddenly, Minerva came forward carrying a large portmanteau.
"If it isn't the Gorgon herself," mumbled Severus to which he received a kick under table from a straight-faced Hermione.
Ignoring the comment, the elderly witch removed a large stack of papers that was sent around to each member, who took one and passed the stack on.
Flipping through hers, Hermione saw that it contained speculated locations of the Death Eaters and their headquarters, the approximate number of them, and even what was known of their attack plan and strategies on how to fight against them. Hermione considered making copies for the DA.
McGonagall waited a moment for everyone to look through the information before she began to speak. "As you know, I called this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. Each of you here has proven yourselves worthy of our trust and respect. This meeting has been called because we may have a breakthrough in an offense against Voldemort. Hermione, would you come up here please?"
"Yes, go on, Egeria," she heard Severus whisper in the corner.
As she stood, she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him forward. There was more than one curious look at the most hated member, and possibly the most feared, placidly standing and following the young little witch. It was almost comical. With effrontery, a few members leaned in to get a view of the apoplexy that would surely follow.
But it never came. He followed her to the front and stood behind her like a gargoyle, arms crossed over black, chin high, waiting for someone to protest his presence.
Only because he couldn't see the fierce look on Hermione's face did he wonder why no one did.
"This is just as much Professor Snape's accomplishment as mine. It was my idea, but it never would have gotten off the ground without him. Now, basically, we think we found a way to make Voldemort human again, without his magical enhancements."
"You think?" asked a voice from the back.
"Well, we obviously haven't tested it on him, and who knows for sure exactly what created him. However, Professor Snape came up with the idea of attempting it on a genetically altered Mandrake who had been given the same potion as Voldemort and exhibited the same properties. After, we tried our potion and refined it until it worked."
"And how are we going to get it to him?" asked Tonks.
"Well," said Hermione, "we have a few ideas, but does anyone else have a suggestion?"
The question was bandied about the room in a relatively organized way, with each person waiting their turn. Options ranged from injection (impervious to sharp objects) to a flower bouquet (no one knew horticulture). It was understood that everyone's opinion counted, and they would stay until the matter was resolved.
Hermione waited an appropriate length of time before calling back the discussion. "I have an idea to put forth as well. We know that the potion has to touch him in some inconspicuous way. Food and drink is out because, last Professor Snape knew, he had an unfortunate Death Eater or captive try all his food for him. Is that still the case, Draco?"
Draco nodded, trying not to be credulous that these people already considered him one of them.
"Alright, and does he still play chess before each meeting?"
Draco agreed again.
"Perfect." She turned her back to the crowd and stepped into the kitchen for a moment to retrieve the pack she had brought to make others think they were going to study. Hermione took out her chess set and laid it on the table before the crowd.
"And how's your chess set going to help us, missy?" asked Moody.
She explained the Muggle technology that would allow the potion to bond with the piece. "Any piece can be used, and we can use one or many. If it was one that would be used later in the game, say a bishop or a queen, then it would be difficult for them to pinpoint foul play."
Murmurs were heard as her idea was discussed. While she waited, Hermione and Severus watched the set pieces watch the crowd.
The white king walked up to Hermione, calling her attention. He pointed to his left forearm and to Snape with a puzzled expression.
"Yes," said Hermione. "We're talking about the bad man who calls him away."
The king made a slitting gesture over his throat.
"Yes, we are trying to figure out how to defeat him."
The king pointed to the chess set.
"Right, we want to use a chess piece to carry the potion that will hinder him."
The king pointed to himself.
Hermione gasped. "No, I couldn't use you! It'll be too dangerous!"
She hadn't noticed that the people around the table were no longer speaking. Instead they were entranced by the bossy witch and the piece's pantomime.
The white king stomped his foot. He pointed to Severus and to his mark. Then he pointed to Hermione and where her scar was on her abdomen. Stomping across the table, he pointed to Harry and his scar, to Draco and his mark, to Moody and his eye. To Remus, to Ginny, to Molly.
He then stood in the middle of the table and pointed once again to himself. It's my turn.
Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded. "Alright. I suppose you would be our best option. But it really will be dangerous. I don't know if it will affect you."
The king stomped his foot again with his arms crossed.
"What do you think?" she asked the brooding man beside her.
"If you have a volunteer for the christening, so be it."
"Christening?" asked Ron.
"Perhaps Voldemort is Anabaptist," Snape responded, completely straight-faced, only serving to confuse the boy more.
"Okay, alright, you win," said Hermione. "If they agree this is what we're going to try, I'll let you be the carrier, okay?"
The white king solemnly nodded and went back to the board where the black queen hugged him fiercely.
"What. The bloody hell. Was that?" asked Tonks.
"Miss Granger is quite gifted in Charms," said Severus in his first public sentence of the meeting.
"You made that, Hermione?" asked Remus. "That is quite the talent. And useful. It'll be beneficial to have something sentient carrying the potion instead of just the normal Wizarding chess set."
"It does seem like a good plan," said Harry.
"And we have nothing to lose," added Ron. "If it doesn't work, he doesn't have to know an attempt was made. Is there a simple spell that could be cast on him to test if it was effective before we try to fight him?"
That is a rather intelligent addition, thought a surprised Snape.
Once again chatter broke out around the room.
"A Cheering Charm perhaps?"
"Or a Rictusemptra?"
"Maybe just a gentle wind spell?"
"He has no hair to ruffle."
"Well, I know, but his robes perhaps."
The twins suggested turning his skin purple, but it was decided that that would be too visible.
"What about Concisus Macula?" added Lorrell.
The conversation paused as everyone turned to the busty blonde they had forgotten was present.
Lorrell shrugged. "I use Modica Macula when I want a little beauty mark for a few hours. Concisus Macula would make a mark for just a minute or two, right?"
"Excellent, Miss Pepple," said the voice of Dumbledore. Apparently some dolt had thought it prudent to hang a portrait of the departed headmaster in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Nothing could escape the old man. "I believe that would be just the thing."
More discussion ensued, and it was decided Severus would accompany Draco to Voldemort's next meeting.
"Are you sure you want to do the next scheduled meeting?" asked Draco, speaking up for the first time.
"Yes, I believe so," said McGonagall. "Why do you ask?"
"Because it's next Friday."
The flurry of activity was immediate. Everyone was present for a while, they reasoned, so a week's time was a surprisingly good choice. It left little time for word of their plan to escape, and the Order could be in place.
"Draco? You're going to this meeting?" asked Severus.
"Yes. My father wants to have me there as a reminder of his loyalty to the Dark Lord. He is certain he plans to attack soon."
"Then I will be ready to go with you," the older wizard told him calmly. As Draco walked way, Severus mumbled, "Unless I can find a sick friend named Bunbury."
Hermione made a clucking noise in admonishment.
"What?" he questioned. "You can't blame me for wishing I had emigrated at some point in the last twenty years."
She knew he was only trying to lighten the mood for her sake, he knew how she liked Oscar Wilde, but this was not the time to be flippant, and she was going to worry regardless. "You wouldn't have met me," she whispered for his ears alone.
She tried to be strong when she really wanted to verbally protest. Hermione hated the thought of him going back to the Death Eaters, knowing this time would be more dangerous. Possibly even more dangerous than when Voldemort first returned. This time, he knew of Severus's treachery.
But she couldn't. She knew she had to stay quiet, even as she could see him looking at her, wondering if she would break.
He was the best choice. The only choice. Only he could protect Draco, could be a distraction, and knew exactly how to react. No, everyone had to make sacrifices and take risks.
"Do you think he means to attack then?" asked Arthur.
Draco shrugged. "I'm not that high in rank yet. It's possible. It is in the last month of school now."
Soon, new battle plans were being drawn. Most of the Order would be waiting, ready at the castle. If Voldemort decided to strike, Severus and Draco would not be enough to stop him. And even with the potion, they could only hinder him. Only Harry could give the final spell.
Ginny and Ron would alert the DA the next morning and meet them at lunch to go over their duties. Everyone was surprised that they were so well prepared. Tonks had taught everyone well that year in Defense, and the DA took it a few steps above class. They were armed, and they were ready.
Ginny and Lorrell explained to the group how they had plans for the fifth year students to bring all the younger students into the Room of Requirement, and the sixth and seventh years planned on bolstering the Order if the castle was, in fact, attacked. They also explained how Hermione had enchanted the lists of names so that one marked off would appear on all of them, and no one would be forgotten.
"Good work, Hermione," said Minerva.
"Just grunt work," she told them humbly. "The task of keeping all the students together and calm will fall to the fifth years and the prefects." Hermione planned on being in the Infirmary, helping Madam Pomfrey should there be injuries.
Several hours after the meeting began, the planning was complete, and the mood of the room was tense. They now had a date. A deadline. Come this time next week, Voldemort could be defeated.
"Hermione?" asked Minerva softly. "Would you mind entertaining us a bit while we have a nightcap? I'm afraid we could all use a bit of a respite for a few moments."
"I don't mind playing, but I don't think I'm up to singing as well. Ginny? Lorrell? Would either of you want to sing, or should I just play?"
A few members left but the majority moved into the large drawing room that held the expansive liquor cabinet. Shots and glasses were passed around until everyone had something to sip, and Hermione set up her chess set.
Lorrell stood up alongside the piano there and chatted with Hermione before the music began. (1)
The bows of the strings pistoned up and down as the legato music began to play with the horns later joining in. Lorrell's deep alto voice strolled along the notes, taking her sweet time.
"'My funny valentine…Sweet, comic valentine. You make me smile with my heart. Your looks are laughable, unphotographable, yet you're my favorite work of art.'"
Lorrell owned the song as Hermione watched from the piano bench, the piano silent. Ron, of course, was riveted to her, and the rest of the group was alternating watching the witch and watching the chess set. The girl had a strong yet airy voice, very fit for the bluesy song she sang. Her favorite music to sing was from such artists as Ella Fitzgerald and Etta James, and it showed in the Sarah Vaughan rendition.
"'Is your figure less than Greek? Is your mouth a little weak? When you open it to speak, are you smart?'" Lorrell sang as she walked over to Ron and tweaked his nose. The words were fitting for sure.
It was odd how the girl had come to fit into their lives, but no one could deny how well she and the red-head fit together.
Lorrell continued the song, taking a slow stroll around the room as though it were her own personal jazz lounge with the patrons sipping on something strong and the lights turned down low. The audience was quiet; no inane chatter could be heard. "'But don't change a hair for me, not if you care for me. Stay, little valentine, stay. Each day is Valentine's Day.'"
"'Is your figure less than Greek?'" she repeated. "'Is your mouth a little weak? When you open it to speak, are you smart?'"
Hidden by shadow, Hermione leaned over to Severus to remark how this was definitely a song for Ron and not a song for him. He smirked so small only she would notice it, but that was fine. It was only for her anyway.
"'But don't change a hair for me, not if you care for me. Stay, little valentine, stay. Each day is Valentine's Day.'"
The crowd applauded, both for the set and the chanteuse, as they enjoyed the slow crooning of both. Remus nudged Hermione to show off a bit as well. Hermione tried insisting they had all heard her and would probably rather go home to get some sleep. She really just wanted to sit there by Severus for a little while, but in the end, she acquiesced.
Hermione sat at the familiar piano, recalling the night Severus found her in this room. How solemn a night it was, and how shocked she was seeing his white legs and the blanket he cast over her. She still cherished that blanket.
Her fingers almost touched the keys when she was interrupted by a cough from Harry.
"Actually, um, while everyone is here, I'd like to make an announcement."
Oh no.
"In light of recent events, our past history, and our love for each other, Ginny and I have been married."
"Oh no you haven't!" shrieked Molly Weasley as a cacophony broke out around the room. It seemed as though even Ron didn't know what had happened.
"Mum!" said Ginny. "Yes, we have. We still want to have a proper ceremony this summer if everything goes okay, but if it doesn't, we just wanted to be married first."
"But Harry! Ginevra!"
"I know, Molly," said Harry.
"I know, Mum," Ginny concurred. "But you know you and Dad were the same. You got married when things got rough, and Harry and I know this is the right decision. I'm going to stay in school, and there are places for married couples."
As they all listened, the full story came out. Harry knew that what he needed to do was dangerous. Possibly even more dangerous than that required of Snape and Malfoy. Voldemort already hated him and wanted him dead. He was Enemy Number One. If anything happened to him, he wanted Ginny taken care of. He had loved her longer than she probably knew.
Harry had never had much of a family. With the death of his parents and living at the Dursleys, he hadn't had a family life, a truly loving family, of his own. The Weasleys were as close as it came, and Hermione had a feeling that he might be feeling a little put out with the addition of Hermione into the Orphan Club and Lorrell into the Weasley household. He needed something, someone, he knew would be there. Something to hope for and look forward to. A driving force and reason to live.
Ginny knew Harry was a serious man. He had matured years beyond what his father possibly ever knew, even going so far as to be on speaking terms with Severus. He was a stable, loving, family wizard. If anything happened to him, she would be proud to carry on the name Potter.
"How did you get out of the castle?" asked Ron. "None of us are allowed off the grounds without a teacher!"
"Harry Potter!" spoke an angry McGonagall. "You didn't really need anything for Severus and Hermione did you?"
"It was Ginny's idea!" said Harry indignantly. "She said it's how Hermione got them out of the castle before!"
Oh, thank you Harry Potter and your big mouth.
Hermione quickly explained, and perhaps lied a little, that she had needed to get a few things to help with the potion, and she had brought along Ginny and Lorrell for safety.
She just didn't tell them that what she had needed to get was chocolate and lingerie to make her not angry at Severus so that they could finish the second trial.
And, in the end, it was Ron who made the most convincing argument.
It gave Harry more of what Voldemort didn't have.
Love.
Even Molly Weasley couldn't argue with love.
Ginny was crying by the time things calmed down, and Severus was watching her being consoled by Hermione as Molly was giving Ginny and Harry a bit of what for. She was insistent that if all went well, there was most certainly going to be a proper ceremony in the summer, and the elopement was not to be discussed until then!
It wasn't so much that she was ashamed. No, both the Weasley parents loved Harry and could not have hoped for a better match for their daughter. However, they remembered the climate when they eloped themselves. There was panic and fear in the hearts of everyone. Each person was clinging to someone or something for solace. They did not want that for their family, and they didn't want to be responsible for spreading that panic on to others. How would the other students feel if they knew that Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, was so scared that he had eloped with his school sweetheart?
No, it was better kept under wraps for now. It would be one more thing to celebrate when the Dark Bastard was gone for good.
Because they were going to win.
Slowly, people realized that the shocks were over for the evening. They began to disperse one by one with goodbyes and well wishes. They would be in contact by owl over the next week, and small groups would gather Friday to organize the Order. Most would be stationed at Hogwarts, a few at the suspected meeting site for the Death Eaters, and a few other strategic locations, such as the Ministry and St. Mungo's.
As Hermione went to go Floo with her friends, Severus shortly behind them, Remus spoke to her softly and asked if he could speak to her for a moment. She agreed and followed him to a separate room.
Remus's hackles rose as he realized the scent of Severus on Hermione was even stronger now. Yes, this was something that had to be addressed.
"Hermione, Severus has no doubt made you aware that I've been informed of your…attachment."
"Yes, he has," said Hermione, curious at his line of questioning.
"And this is mutual, of course, yes?"
"Of course it is, Remus. You don't exactly force Severus Snape to do something!" she said indignantly. Did he really think that she could manage to coerce him into something? Hermione refused to use some of the more dubious tactics of the late headmaster.
Remus was a bit startled. That wasn't how he had meant it at all, and it was absurd to think that she would be taking advantage of Severus Snape and not the other way around. "Is he treating you well? You haven't felt pressured by anything, or threatened?"
"Of course not! Honestly! Do you realize what that man puts up with? It's you lot who can be the real berks sometimes, Remus. He is completely different if you give him the chance to be. Bury the hatchet. Even Harry has."
Once again, Remus was taken back. He had not heard from Harry that the old Potter/Snape grudge would not see another generation.
Honestly, he was happy to see it go. When this was over, he would try and talk to the man. If Hermione Granger called him friend, he deserved it.
The girl in question tossed him an angry look over her shoulder as she strode back to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of powder, stating, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" and stepping through the flames.
~~HGSS~~
The following week, any guests to Hogwarts would have thought the castle was in mourning.
The majority of the chatter in the halls came from the lower years. The rest just calmly and quietly went about their business. Teachers rarely had to take points or give detention. Silverware could actually be heard in the Great Hall, and even the Quidditch Pitch was untouched on some evenings.
When the Order members had returned to the castle after their meeting, the students had dutifully contacted the rest of Dumbledore's Army the following day as planned. The plan was laid out in sparse detail, but the message was clear. War was upon them for real now, and in a short week, their mettle might be tested. They could not fail.
Their solemnity had transferred to the rest of the student body, who was already stressed with the end of the year looming.
Nothing good happened at the end of the year.
On the night before the hopefully fateful battle, Hermione found herself in Severus's quarters, where she had been everyday for at least a short while.
This evening found her with Crookshanks, her faithful feline, as she methodically brushed him and groomed him.
"I swear, some day I will find you pushing him in a perambulator," grumbled a cranky Severus from his well worn armchair.
Hermione looked up at him. She had watched the man grow understandably more and more agitated as the week progressed. "Have you talked with Draco?" she asked.
He told her he had.
"And everything is set for tomorrow?"
"It is."
"Severus?" she asked gently while coming around behind his chair, laying her hands on his shoulders and her chin on his head. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
He thought for a moment.
"Play for me."
Hermione gave his shoulders a squeeze and went to sit down at the piano. (2) Her chess set was waiting for her and intuitively began to play almost as soon as her bottom hit the bench. A few strings, a piano, and Hermione's voice filled the room with the lone white rook on trumpet.
"'Every time we say goodbye, I die a little,'" she sang in her alto. "'Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little. Why the Gods above me, who must be in the know. Think so little of me, they allow you to go.'"
The song was slow and tender, full of the longing only the blues can truly express. Each part was just an accent to the other, each working to highlight the lyrics that Hermione felt to her core. Every time he left, she wished it would be the last time.
When he left tomorrow, she was afraid it was going to be.
"'When you're near, there's such an air of spring about it. I can hear a lark somewhere, begin to sing about it. There's no love song finer, but how strange the change from major to minor, every time we say goodbye.'"
The song spoke the truth. When she had to leave him night after night, her mood went from a happy major to the sad, melancholy minor key.
"'When you're near,'" she repeated, "'there's such an air of spring about it. I can hear a lark somewhere, begin to sing about it. There's no love song finer, but how strange the change from major to
minor, every time we say goodbye.'"
Her fingers on the piano stilled, and she sat there a moment, wondering if the hopeful longing for the day when they wouldn't have to part was hers alone.
"Then don't," she heard from over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry?"
"Don't say goodbye. Stay with me tonight, Hermione," he asked her.
She took a long look at this man, this wizard in front of her. Once feared Potions professor, now her respected teacher. Once a Death Eater, now an Order member. Once the bane of Harry Potter's existence, and now almost his friend.
Once alone, as she was.
Now he was hers, as surely as she was his.
"Of course I will," she told him, cognizant of the fact that this was the first time she had been invited to stay the evening in his rooms. Hermione didn't think the night he fell asleep in her arms counted, even though she certainly felt as though it were an important rung in the ladder of their relationship.
She waited patiently while he used the facilities and used the time to ask Dobby to bring her some clothes. She informed the elf that he was not to speak a word of her whereabouts to anyone but the headmistress, and then only if she asked.
"Of course not, Miss. No, Miss. Dobby is keeping the secrets of the friend of Harry Potter!"
"Thank you, Dobby," she barely said before he popped out of sight.
She watched as Severus came out of the bathroom in a dark gray nightshirt that looked soft to the touch and hung to just below his knees. Hermione had heard he wore nightshirts. With the long sleeves and collar, he looked as bundled as ever.
He made an awkward gesture toward his bathroom. "Do you need to…or anything…?"
"Sure, I'll be just a second."
Hermione quickly used the facilities, changed her clothes and put up her hair to save her a bit of trouble in the morning. Coming out, she saw he was already propped up in bed with a book and his reading glasses.
Yes! her heart screamed. This is what I want. This is what I want for the rest of my life.
She smiled a bit shyly, which was strange considering she had no qualms about divesting him of his clothes. However, this seemed just as intimate, if not more so.
He pulled back her side of the covers, and she joined him in reading for a short while. After less than an hour had passed, she laid her book on the end table on her side and settled in on her side to sleep.
Taking her cue, he marked his place as well and called, "Nox!"
Both of them lay in silence, neither sleeping. Instead, they listened to the breathing of the other, each breath and ruffle of the covers seemingly magnified a thousand fold.
"Hermione?" said a whispered voice.
"Yes?"
"Do you think we should have gotten married?"
He heard her breath hitch. After a long pause, her voice, laden with emotion, attempted to evenly answer, "I'm sure if that is meant to happen, it will. It doesn't matter right now. I couldn't love you any more than I already do."
After an even longer pause, a strong arm stretched across the bed, wrapped around Hermione's waist and pulled her close to a strong, warm chest. Long strands of hair that wasn't hers tickled her cheek as she eventually fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Teaser: "Are we going to succeed tonight?"
The white king shrugged.
"I have a feeling if we don't, we'll die trying."
Author's Note: There was a side challenge set by some friends fulfilled in this chapter. We were watching Oscar Wilde's 'The Importance of Being Earnest' and I was charged with putting all 20 words defined in the program into my story. I stepped it up and said I can put all 20 into a chapter. Can you find them?
On the side, I am now happily 6 months pregnant. Xander's favorite trick is to punch my belly button while using the lower regions for a trampoline. Husband is convinced I'm giving birth to Chuck Norris.
This story ends at Chapter 40.