A/N: Love to signofthetimes, CB and reviewers.

True story, y'all: My bedroom has no closet (it's a really old house) so I store my clothes on a hanging bar. Every so often, I come in and find pieces on the floor. I assumed that Pooh was taking pieces that had fallen off and dragging them into his bed to lie on. (We share a love of natural fibres, apparently).

Woke up this morning to a strange noise. Sat up, no glasses, and realised why my clothes were falling. Newt has tipped to the idea that the bar moves, and that many of my longer clothes sway when it does. As I watched, she'd crouch under something long and spring straight up, digging her claws in and riding like a kid on a tireswing.

Madea, whose clothes now have a fringe whether they were meant to or not :/

Viktor had just dropped off to sleep when he heard Uncle Rumen's voice. 'Little bear, wake up. Wake up, Viktor, it's important. Wake up, love.'

Uncle Rumen hadn't called him that in how long? He opened his eyes and groaned softly, stiff from sleeping upright in the armchair. They'd been taking turns questioning Morreau to see if he'd break, and he'd wanted a nap before his turn came.

'Uncle? Is it Grandmama?'

'She's not got long now, Viktor. She's asking to see you.'

Viktor sat, feeling his cheek rasp under his fingers. How long had it been since he'd shaved or had a real sleep? Since Morreau got found out, and that was…days, at any rate.

'We've heard from England?'

'Someone named Umbridge contacted us. Snape's in the office to explain.'

'Hermione?'

'There already.'

'Morreau?'

'Still hasn't broken. Pavel and Arco are in there right now. They're leaning on him fairly hard.'

'The Wolfsbane?'

'They've dosed themselves. Istok and Galca too, so they can take over when those two tire.'

'Please see they get a good bonus for this, Uncle. It's quite uncomfortable not to change, I understand.'

'I've already authorized time and a half for this. I don't know how he's holding out.'

'Morreau? Fear. It's better to be the right hand of the Evil One than in his path.'

Uncle Rumen looked grim and sad. The office was well lit up, and the family was there, even the children, both of whom were crying.

'Hermione?'

'I'm sorry, sweet.'

Snape held up a letter on the Dark Lord's own parchment. 'It came twenty minutes ago from London. Stomach cancer, terminal.'

Viktor sat down. 'What can we do?'

'She wishes to see you before she dies.'

'I can't get in, can I?'

'We've sent an official petition to the Dark Lord on compassionate grounds.'

'Should I hold my breath?'

'No, my lord, not for an instant. It would be possible for us to get you in and out again, very likely.'

'How?'

Sirius spoke from the corner. 'Kid, if I can do it, you can do it. And Des'll help us.'

'Desmond's been petitioning to see his wife. That one might well get through. If it does, the commotion of his arrival might well be cover enough to permit you to remain unnoticed. Your grandmother has also asked for a priest.'

'We'll bring hers, if he'll go.'

'Yes, indeed.'

Viktor sat down, and both cousins came to him at once, settling in his lap. He put an arm round each and let them cry into his tunic, murmuring softly, comforted by having people to focus on.

'All right, shhh. Grandmama wouldn't want you to make yourselves sick, would she?'

Both shook their heads. 'We'll sit here and snuggle a bit, does that sound good? Professor? What would we need do?'

'Right now, nothing. I've asked a friend in London to push one of the petitions through, if both isn't going to be tenable. He'll get back to us as quickly as possible.'

The children, woken in the middle of the night to get bad news and then worn out by their storm of grief, were both yawning. Uncle Penko and Sirius came and collected them, to put them down on divans in a nearby lounge until plans had been made 'There are other considerations as well.'

'Like what, Professor?'

'Seal the doors, please. Kreacher, watch the children.'

Snape explained about the Horcruxes and the museum idea. Viktor inhaled deeply at the whole notion of multiple Horcruxes.

'How many so far?'

'The diary, to a certainty. The locket, which is in Kreacher's possession. Possibly, a cup of some sort, mentioned in a letter to Archibald Mulciber. More, potentially.'

'What about the ring?'

'Ring, dog?'

Anu was nodding vigorously. 'Yes. Slughorn was talking about the boy with the ring, remember?'

'I do.'

'What are the odds it isn't him, Snape?'

'Low, admittedly. There have been no rings surrendered thus far, that I've heard of.'

'Doesn't mean it isn't one.'

'Obviously, Black. Perhaps you could speak to Slughorn, Tamm?'

Anu nodded stolidly. 'All right.'

Viktor wanted to protest it. He's thirteen, he wanted to say, don't send him back there. But he couldn't. It could be there only chance and Anu looked as resolute as any martyr about to be fed to lions. It was an impossible situation, and apt to get worse before it got better.

Snape must have seen the look on his face, because he lowered his voice. 'I will have a word with the boy, never fret.'

'Thank you.'

'It might be necessary for your lordship to bring some of these artefacts out of Britain for us.'

'I will do whatever it takes, to be sure.'

'We will need to rely on your cunning to hide things.'

'Are there photographs for the goblins to copy the known items?'

'I took the liberty, Viktor.' Uncle Penko spoke up from the corner, where he'd been watching out the window. 'I thought it'd be easier to ask forgiveness than permission.'

'No need, Uncle. You're Lord Paramount of the Conclave.'

'That's what my correspondence says, anyway.'

Draco spoke up. 'What about the conference?'

'We can finish it, Draco, between us. Viktor, do you mind?'

Viktor took her hand, which was trembling again. 'We speak with the same voice, wife.'

'I know. They know it as well, I daresay.'

'Morreau?'

Snape turned his head slowly to look at his godson. 'Malfoy, I've all the faith in the world in you.'

'We should decide a game plan right now, though. Who knows how long you might be gone?'

Viktor hoped the answer was 'not long at all'. He had absolutely every confidence in Hermione, but it made him nervous to be gone from the country during a time like this. On the other hand, it was the least he could do for Grandmama, to ease her final moments.

'I agree, Professor.'

'Should we summon the Ministers and hammer something out?'

'Let's do the hammering first.'

Two hours later, shaved and showered, Viktor felt nearly human again. He was listening to Kreacher's latest wires, his wife beside him, and Snape at the end of table with Drago.

'So it would seem Poland is quite convinced.'

'Poland's afraid to lose their trade with Latvia. Once Latvia declared for us, it was a matter of time.'

'Serbia, too. They need those Estonian mermaid scales.'

'So that's taken care of.'

Drago rubbed his head. 'What about France? I'm not…how will we know?'

'The rest of Europe is with us, more or less. France will have little choice except to ally themselves directly with the Dark Lord, and I doubt Morreau wants that.'

'He was eager enough for their coin, Godfather.'

'But not their wolves. If Greyback's as despotic as Pavel seems to think, then there's a real chance those wolves will defect to us if loosed in a country where that was possible.'

'Has he told Morreau that?'

Snape laughed mirthlessly. 'No doubt he's told him in detail how that would be. If Morreau thought those riots last year were ugly, a few thousand half-feral wolves rampaging through France might give him pause.'

'Will it be enough, do you think?'

'Between the reality of his situation here and the political implications of being outed as a traitor, I would say so. If worse comes to worse, Scabior can coerce something out of him. It would be cleaner not to, of course, but…' Snape shrugged to show that needs must is needs must.

'That would leave us open to being challenged.'

'By the time he marshalled the nerve to do, my lord, we'd have what we needed. And it would require his admitting to the country that he'd taken foreign coin. His career would be over and he knows it.'

'Not to mention, Viktor…if this happens, then you wouldn't really be liable to answer the charges if you didn't want to.'

Viktor cocked his head. 'Explain, Drago, please.'

'Mate, those other countries want to ally with you. That makes you and Hermione the heads of it. France can say whatever it wants to, but you'll have most of Europe at your back, and Egypt, and Turkey, and a lot of others. You rather of make the rules now, the two of you.'

Viktor looked at Hermione, who said nothing. 'Drago, we aren't…we didn't…you make it sound like we're Dark Lords or something.'

'Not Dark, but Viktor, you've united Wizarding Europe.'

'To stop the Dark Lord.'

'And then what? You'll disband and everyone goes home like before?'

'Yes.'

Draco shook his head. 'I'll support the both of you no matter what happens, but Viktor, be realistic. Maybe it will happen that way, but what are the odds?'

'Hermione? What do you think?'

'I hope that…Draco might be right, Viktor. Maybe it will be over once it's done, but Britain will need to be rebuilt, for one. War crimes trials for the Death Eaters that survive. Restarting the economy. I don't think we'll just be able to walk away.'

Viktor could taste the truth of it, and it was bitter to him. Bitter to them. It was their homeland they were discussing, and the thought of seeing it in ruins must have been terrible to them.

'No. Of course not. I was being naïve. Apologies, Drago.'

'Not at all. Wish you were right. This is going to be a hell of a mess to clean up. Sorry, Hermione.'

She waved the apology away. 'The point is, we have to be prepared for every potential outcome.'

'Quite so, my lady.'

Uncle Penko knocked and was bidden in. 'Your petition's been rejected, Viktor, but Des's hasn't.'

Snape rose, looking pleased. 'Excellent. It's a start.'

Viktor closed his eyes and breathed a prayer to St. Mikhail. It was, wasn't it?

Anu Tamm could sense the tension in the air as well. He was keeping an eye on his fiancée and brother in law, which is to say that he was studying his reader whilst they slept on the divan, curled up together like puppies. Crookshanks, Hermione's grumpy tom, was with them as well, lying at their heads and glaring at Anu anytime he moved, lest he wake the children.

He sensed another person had joined them and rose, wand drawn, only to realize it was Snape. He lowered his weapon, sighing softly. 'Professor?'

'Walk with me, Tamm?'

'What about Yana and Ivan?'

'Kreacher is here.'

The rest of the Ministry was no more lively. If anything, with most of the wolves gone for the full moon, it was more dead than usual. The door to Morreau's room opened and Arco stumbled out, followed by Pavel.

If Hermione had looked tired and uncomfortable, the men looked ghastly. Both of them had a waxy pallor, dark rings under their eyes and perspiration running down their faces. Up close, they had a feral smell that made Anu want to step back, instinctively nervous around this predatory odour, but might that be unkind? He reminded himself to be charitable and instead looked to Snape.

'Should we call Healer Yokov now, sir?'

'Pavel, do you need something? Arco?'

Both wolves shook their heads. 'No. It's not so bad.'

'If the Vicereine sees, she'll scold you.'

Pavel managed a snort. His teeth, noticed Anu, looked longer and sharper. 'That's true.'

Arco's face tightened. 'If we're not needed, Professor…'

'Go lie down, gentlemen, and I'll send potions to help relieve the pain.'

They walked on quietly, gaining a small tail of dogs. Bess came from a courtyard and bowed, then looked left and right.

'They're in the office, girl.'

She bowed again and headed that way. Snape shook his head, disgusted.

'Salazar has infected them like a miasma.'

'Sir?'

'A disease.'

Anu laughed, more at his tone than anything. 'Does he still owe you, sir?'

'I keep a running tab on him.'

They found a vacant lounge and slipped inside. Snape motioned for Anu to sit down and then sat opposite him.

'You know how vital what you are doing is, Tamm?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Good. Listen carefully, then.' Snape leant forward and Anu did too, wondering what Snape was about to confide in him. He was slightly startled when the man's hand shot out and took his chin, tugging his head up, but gently. Anu relaxed, knowing Snape wouldn't hurt him.

'If you ever do such a dangerous thing again, boy, I will personally skin you alive, and that's before Malfoy and Krum get their turn at you, to say nothing of the girl, Kask and his sister, and whomever else.'

Anu's eyes widened. 'Sir, I didn't mean to-'

'Slughorn has been doing this for longer than both of us have been alive combined, do you understand?'

'Yes, but-'

'No. If I have reason to believe you are taking unnecessary risks, I will stop things. There are other ways for us to seek out this information that don't involve risking your well-being.'

Anu could have cried. He felt pressure building in his sinuses, and he raised a hand, embarrassed to be acting like a kid. 'No! I mean, you don't need to.'

'Then listen to what we're telling you, boy. It isn't worth your safety. Because make no mistake, Slughorn will use and discard you should it come to that. He's done it before.'

'What about the others?'

'Others?'

'If it's not me, he could go after the others.'

Snape shook his head. 'No. They're too well guarded, for one. And for another, offering yourself as a sacrifice to avert abuse doesn't make things better. It just legitimizes the abuse. I would know, Tamm. You've a chance to stop this, but only if you're willing to let us help you.'

Anu nodded. Had Slughorn hurt Snape? Sirius had said Snape's father was a bad man. A moment of adult clarity came over Anu; it almost didn't matter what had happened, so much as responding to it.

'I'm sorry that happened, Professor.'

'It was long ago, and the person who did it is dead. But thank you. Now, what will you do to see Slughorn doesn't hurt you?'

'No more touching.'

'That's right. A degree of casual contact might be unavoidable, but don't let him touch you. You'll sense the difference, I should think.'

Anu nodded. He had already, after all.

'What else?'

'Take Sirius or Madam Skeeter.'

'And if that should be impossible?'

'I don't know, sir.'

'Neither do I. I was rather hoping you'd have an idea.' Snape's voice was totally deadpan, but Anu thought it was a joke and smiled a little.

'What about Scabior?'

'Scabior?'

'Slughorn's…he doesn't like people who…he likes special people. Do you know what I mean?' Anu knew there was a word he was looking for but he couldn't find it.

'A snob? Yes, he is.'

'Maybe he wouldn't notice Scabior as much?'

Snape's face didn't change, but something about it seemed pleased. 'Just right, boy. He might take some convincing.'

'Scabior? Really?'

'He feels strongly about the issue, I understand.'

'We could talk to him about it.'

Snape nodded. 'Let me try first. Not a word until I have, is that clear?'

'Yes, sir. Professor?'

'Tamm?'

'When this is over, will you all come back here?'

'To visit?'

'No, to stay. We'd all like that. Or I would, and I think the others. And Barty likes it here, and Edric's got school. You know, everything is here.'

'Britain is our home, Tamm.'

'It might be hard to stay there if there's been a war.'

Snape's mouth quirked ever so slightly. 'We shall see. If nothing else, we will take some time to go over your potioning, Malfoy seems to think you've a skill.'

Anu blushed a little, pleased Drago had been bragging about him.

'Nene is better. She makes that ointment.'

'Quite so. I should like more of that before I go.'

'Your knee still hurts?'

'And always shall. Joints don't heal quite like they were, unfortunately.'

Anu fingered his eye patch lightly. 'That's a lot of things, it seems like.'

'Quite so.'

'Professor?'

'Tamm?'

'That boy he was telling me about. Slughorn made the Dark Lord what he is?'

'The Dark Lord was born the way he is, but Slughorn helped him along his path, willingly or not. That might well be the key. I've a stratagem for you to try, if you were so inclined.'

Anu leant forward, wanting more than anything to please Snape and the others. 'What is it?'

'The next time you see Slughorn...'

Snape's suggestions were instructive, and Anu felt wiser when they parted, but older as well. He thought about that as he went for the Floo, and home.

Rita Skeeter was rather at loose ends. She wandered the Ministry, sometimes transforming into her beetle form, sometimes simply finding a quiet place and relaxing. She had had rather a nice chat with Madam Scabior about the best places to shop in Sofia, helped the elves make a batch of baklava, and spent what seemed an interminable amount of time listening to an elf called Norry wail about his general inadequacy in all things. (She was frankly not tempted to disagree on that last, incidentally.)

Now she was just walking a bit, sometimes stopping to admire the architecture of the Ministry, pet a dog or look out a window onto the courtyard, which was very nice in an austere kind of way.

She smelt him before she saw him, a low feral smell like an animal's den, and a tang of salty flesh…or blood (?)…underneath. Rita spun, wand up. She'd never actually met Nicolae Pavel, but she'd seen pictures, and clearly this was him, spare, neat, of average height and aspect. Smiling.

'Sir, you startled me.'

'I didn't mean to, Madam. My sincere apologies.'

She shook her head. 'It's all right. I, ah, what are you, are you quite well?'

'No. I've opted not to transform this month. It is less than pleasant. Snape was good enough to dose me, so I thought some fresh air might help to improve things.'

'I've heard. Would you answer some questions?'

'Not for a paper, I should hope.'

'No. It's habit, I suppose.'

He inclined his head. 'I understand. Where shall we go?'

The two of them settled in a courtyard. 'What would you like to know, Madam Skeeter?'

'Rita.'

'Nicolae.'

'Everything. How did you come to be here?'

'Quid pro quo?'

She had never been asked that. Most men, she'd found, were content to natter about themselves endlessly. It was actually a little nice; she mused, and suddenly found herself wondering how it'd feel to let him touch her.

Don't be stupid, she chided herself, and then tried to bring her thoughts back to focus on her questions. She could do quid pro quo. Perhaps something interesting would come of it.

'All right.'

The courtyard was quiet and cool. The dogs were barking somewhere. His smell was overwhelming, but not in a bad way, she found. It was an antidote to Traver's smell of pomade and too much cologne and the ointment he used on the injuries he'd got in Pavel's raid on the British Ministry a million years before.

'..Rita? Are you quite well?'

'Sorry, yes. Wool gathering. You were one of the people who attacked the Ministry back in '92, weren't you?'

'I was. Myself and a good many of the wolves here, as it happens.'

'It took nerve, striking so directly.

He shrugged one shoulder. 'A strong message, I would say. Were you there?'

'No. I was not well.'

'You were there when the Lestranges and Krums formalized the arrangements, though. I've read the articles.'

'I was, yes.' Who was interviewing whom here?

'You seemed quite content with things then. What changed, if I might ask?'

She tried to find a coherent answer. 'I was disquieted that night by what I saw. She was so very young, Nicolae. So was my lord Krum, but the girl was just so…so small. Like a little doll, all dressed up. Madam Krum-Madam Zhivka Krum, I mean-had made her a sort of little poppet in Bulgarian dress, and it was in the bed with her when we all left.'

Pavel nodded. 'Was it hard, putting a good spin on that?'

'Yes, actually. But I supposed that if her parents didn't mind, it was nothing to me.'

'And then?'

'Snowden.'

'You were at Snowden?' He sounded surprised.

'Yes, by accident. I was supposed to get statements from some of our brave fighting men' her mouth twisted wryly as the awful memories fought to come forward 'and then you attacked.'

'You didn't fight, I take it.'

'No, but I was there when they brought them back. One of them had his face hexed mostly off; he was still trying to scream. I spent the night trying to…there was blood everywhere. And vomit, I remember…' she turned her head aside, forcing down a mouthful of hot bile.

'What about you?'

'At Snowden? I was leading the vanguard. We engaged them in this copse of trees. I remember, they were the kind called-poplar, I think, in English?-there was this shower of leaves and bows as the trees got hit. I was trying to get close to Goyle, but he pulled out before I could.'

'Did you take many casualities?'

'Not too bad, that time. A handful, but…' He shrugged again. 'We can always go to ground, you know. We were hiding in this old mine. It smelt like death inside, but it was safe.'

'That must have been ghastly.'

'It was no picnic. Why did you decide to help us? Snowden was long ago.'

Rita inhaled and started to explain about Travers. Pavel held up a hand.

'I know about that much. Whitnell and the rest.'

'I was with him when we found out. And he just…he laughed it off. And I realized, then, what I'd been doing. I'd sent those poor boys to their deaths, but if I didn't do something now, I was damned. Really damned.'

'I understand.'

'What about you?'

Pavel seemed to pause for consideration. 'My government didn't ally with the Dark Lord, so that was the official reason. For me? Do you know what Wales is like under Greyback? The wolf parts of it?'

She shook her head. Pavel's eyes were gleaming. His smell was stronger, a hard animalistic smell of dens and dark places. 'The whole north of the country is his, what isn't established villages or towns. He lords over it like a god. Nothing happens he doesn't approve.'

'The people live in crude huts, ten and fifteen to a room. Sanitation is non-existant. The outhouses are just holes in the ground. The food is cooked in common pots and distributed twice a day, so people sneak into the woods and trap birds and mice. Getting caught means a beating. If one is lucky.'

'The infant mortality rate is something like sixty percent for children under five. The maternal mortality rate is three in ten. Disease is rife, and everyone has parasites of various kinds. And there are worse rumours floating about.'

Rita leant forward. 'Like what?'

'Greyback has the most beautiful girls paraded before him nightly and chooses one for his bed, and his lieutenants. He sends men to find them, pimps that scour every dwelling. Some of those girls are twelve and thirteen years old, Rita. It's an abomination.'

'And I realized-this is what he wants for all of us. The Dark Lord would herd each and every wolf in Europe into a squalid pen like that, unless and until he could get some use from us. I won't die that way. I'll fight.'

'And that's why you joined with Krum?'

'I joined with Krum because I'd rather a Dark Lord who treats people well. And a chance at Greyback. He and I had an encounter once. I'd like to finish our conversation.' He grinned, teeth very white and very long. She knew what he meant to bring Greyback.

'I, ah…yes. I see.'

'Do you?'

He held out a hand, and she took it. His skin burnt on hers, clean, hot, like a cleansing flame. They found a disused room and undressed in the dark and quiet.

When he entered her, Rita started to sob. She'd forgot how sweet it could be. He was careful. He asked. And he gave back.

After, naked, they twined together on a conjured mattress.

'It helped?'

'Yes. You?'

'Yes' he said, and they did it three more times.