Thank you to everyone who is still on this journey with me. I hope you are all safe and well as worldwide lockdowns continue. I should have uploaded this weeks ago, but I had through to post a longer version ... it then became too long, and I decided to chop it up. Part II of the Battle of the Seven Potters will be up much sooner than my usual posting intervals. xx.

Chapter 31

"No, I will not permit it. Absolutely not!"

"You don't get to decide what I will or will not be permitted to do Severus Snape!"

"You are thirty-three weeks pregnant! I will not have you go on a suicide mission to retrieve Potter!"

"I promised to look after Harry. There will be so many of us; I'll be fine."

"Hermione, I will be out there on the other side. I cannot do what I need to if I'm worried about you and our son the entire time."

"You cannot expect me to stay at the Burrow with Molly and Ginny while everyone else is in the thick of things. It's not my way."

"You are being selfish! Everyone always wondered why you were sorted into Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw, and I see it now. You are selfish, impulsive, reckless, and you will end up just like the Potters and Black – getting yourself and our son killed. Well, I forbid it, Hermione. I forbid it."

Hermione stopped in her tracks, mid-scream, and her jaw dropped.

"I don't know why I expected any differently," Severus said petulantly. "Another muggle-born witch blindly loyal to a Potter, and it will get her killed."

"Right," Hermione spat, "It all comes back to Lily Potter. Even Petunia couldn't help but compare me to her sister. Well, if I'm Lily Potter, you're just the same miserable git you were back then, trying to push me away because you're hurt. You cannot just keep us safe and protected in a gilded cage Severus. I am in the middle of this as Harry's best friend, as your partner. I do this to protect those I love, and I will not sit idly by."

"Stop misapplying the sense you were born with Hermione!" Your magic is becoming more erratic. How much help can you really be?"

"I'm a body, a decoy. I can … I can hold the reigns of the Thestral while Kingsley fights."

"All you're doing …"

"I'm doing my duty," she interrupted, before stomping through the garden, back to the Burrow as quickly as she could with a courgette strapped to her front. If Severus wasn't fuming mad at her, he would have thought it adorable.

They had arrived at the Burrow that morning with the rest of the Order to strategize Harry's retrieval. Severus was hoping to be placed in charge of the raid once more; the Dark Lord was pleased with the rescue mission from Azkaban. Kingsley and Tonks made sure Scrimgeour and Dawlish were planning for the 30th of July, meanwhile that evening, Severus would tell the Dark Lord that the actual date was the 27th.

Severus assumed he'd be given around thirty fighters, and they were ordered to summon the Dark Lord if Potter was captured. By the last count, he only had a dozen fighters from the Order.

Minerva couldn't leave the castle as interim Headmistress. The castle was too susceptible to interference and needed to be held as it remained relatively empty. Molly refused to let Ginevra be involved as the witch was not yet sixteen, and Charlie Weasley was stuck in Romania; his portkey not leaving until the 29th of July for Bill's wedding. With Hestia and Dedalus guarding the Dursleys, Severus had been resigned to the idea of using Kingsley as a lone fighter when Hermione said that obviously, she'd be the thirteenth member. Everyone had gone silent and looked to Severus. Without looking at her, he'd dismissed the idea immediately, saying, "Absolutely not."

Hermione tried to hex him, but with her erratic magic had wound up hitting Molly's teapot, and it exploded immediately. Huffing Hermione pushed herself off her seat and stormed out to the garden, Severus following. Unsurprisingly, they found themselves screaming at each other in full view of the Order of the Phoenix.

Severus quickly strode to Hermione's side and grabbing her elbow turned her around to face him. Running a shaky hand through his lanky locks, he looked Hermione in the eyes and exhaled deeply. "Lily is nothing to me compared to you, Hermione Granger. Don't you understand that? Maybe if I loved you less, I'd be able to talk about it more. I lecture you, I blame you, and you bear it so well. I know I am an indifferent lover, but you have to understand that you are my whole life, you and our son. This is reckless and dangerous, not courageous. You need to stay safe now. You can't even throw a stinging hex at me; you're not just putting yourself and our son at risk, but everyone. What if you aimed for a Death Eater and hit someone from the Order instead? You won't be much help to Harry in your condition. Please stay behind," he begged, tears swimming unshed in his eyes.

Hermione slumped a little, and Severus tightened his grip to keep her upright as the fight went out of her. Looking up with tears falling down her cheeks, Hermione whispered, "you're right. I know you are. I just, I'm so frustrated with my limitations. My magic won't work, my body … gods, I resemble a whale most days. I'm supposed to be helping! I'm usually the one keeping Harry alive, and now I feel so useless. I hate this pregnancy. I should have been smarter than this."

Hermione gasped as she clapped her hand over her mouth and then wrapped her hands about her belly, sobbing, "I didn't mean it, oh gods I didn't mean…"

Severus held her tightly to himself and moved a hand to her hair, stroking her soothingly. "You did mean it, and that's alright. We love our son, but it is rather inconvenient. I understand, and it's not fair that you have to be sidelined, but it's for a short time, and …" a lump gathered in his throat, "enjoy it now. You'll be off soon enough, and you'll cry at night wishing you could hold him."

That it turned out, was the wrong thing to say as Hermione let out a fresh round of tears sobbing that she was the worst of mothers.

Severus tried again, "You're not a terrible mother. You are a loving, kind mother, but you have also been turned into a soldier, and you're focused on the mission. With your help Hermione Granger, this war will be over before our son is walking or talking. Eventually, Hermione calmed and begged Severus to take her home, unable to face the rest of the Order. He agreed, apparating her to Spinner's End, putting her to bed and returning to the Burrow.

As he strode into the Burrow garden, the rest looked at him cautiously, and he sat back down at his seat, pulling out his notes he began: "So Kings, your position will be…"

Severus made his familiar walk up from the gates of Malfoy Manor while gravel crackled beneath his feet. As he approached, the front door swung inwards, admitting him. He walked through the dimly lit and sumptuously decorated hallway and halted at a wooden door, pausing for a heartbeat before turning the bronze handle.

The drawing-room was full of silent people sitting at a long and ornate table. Illumination came from a roaring fire beneath a handsome marble mantelpiece surmounted by a gilded mirror. Severus lingered for a moment on the threshold; as his eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light, they were drawn upwards to an unconscious human figure hanging upside down over the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope and reflected in the mirror and in the bare, polished surface of the table below. Their visage was swollen and bloody, and Severus was not entirely sure who it was in the dim light.

None of the people seated underneath this singular sight were looking at it except for Draco, who was almost directly below it. He seemed unable to prevent himself from glancing upwards every minute or so.

"Severus," said a high, clear voice from the head of the table. "You are very nearly late. Come, I've saved you a seat," the Dark Lord commanded, indicating a seat on his immediate right.

"You bring news, I trust?" The Dark Lord nearly cooed to his spy.

"It will happen Saturday next, at nightfall."

The interest around the table sharpened palpably: Some stiffened, others fidgeted, all gazing at Snape and the Dark Lord.

Yaxley leaned forward to look down the long table at Voldemort and Snape. All faces turned to him. "I've heard differently, my Lord. Dawlish, the Auror, let slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirtieth, the night before the boy turns seventeen."

"This is a false trail," Snape interjected loudly. "The Auror office plays no part in the protection of Harry Potter. Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the Ministry."

"Well," Crabbe Sr. chuckled, "they got one thing right haven't they," causing pockets of laughter in the room.

Voldemort did not laugh, holding up a large, white hand calling for silence. "Where will he be taken, the boy?"

"To a safe house, the home of someone in the Order," said Snape. "I have been told it has been given every manner of protection possible. Once there, it will be impractical to attack him until the Ministry has fallen."

"Well, Yaxley?" The Dark Lord called down the table, the firelight glinting off his red eyes. "Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?"

Yaxley squared his shoulders as all eyes turned to him once more. "My Lord, I have good news on that score. I have – after great effort – succeeded in placing an Imperious Curse upon Pius Thicknesse. As the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it will be easy, I think, to use him to subjugate the other Heads and then take down Scrimgeour."

"It is a start," said Voldemort, "as long as our friend Thicknesse is not discovered before he has converted the rest. At any rate, it remains unlikely that the Ministry will be mine before next Saturday; therefore, we must grab the boy during his transport."

Snape stepped in again, "The Order is eschewing any form of transport that is controlled or regulated by the Ministry; he will be moved out in the open."

"Excellent, Severus. You shall plan the attack; while I see to the boy personally. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter, and I shall be."

Severus nodded in agreement. At these words, seemingly in response to them, a sudden wail sounded, a terrible, drawn-out cry of misery and pain.

"Wormtail," commanded Voldemort, "Have I not spoken to you about keeping our prisoner quiet?"

"Yes, m-my Lord," gasped the rat as he scrambled from his seat.

"As I was saying," continued Voldemort, "I understand better now that I must kill the boy; however, I cannot with my wand; they are twins. We can wound, but not fatally harm; therefore, I will need to borrow a wand from one of my faithful followers before I go to kill Potter."

The faces around him looked on in shock and horror. "No volunteers? Let's see … Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore. Your son has proven ably that he can carry out my orders, unlike you."

Lucius Malfoy looked up, his skin still as yellowish and waxy, his eyes sunken and shadowed as they'd been a month ago when Severus had retrieved him from Azkaban. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. "My Lord?"

"My Lord," Voldemort said mockingly, "I require your wand, Lucius."

Severus looked at his friend in pity as the blond-haired man withdrew his wand from his robes and passed it along to Voldemort, who held it up, examining it closely.

"Do I detect Elm?"

"Yes, my Lord," whispered Malfoy.

"And the core?"

"Dragon – dragon heartstring, my Lord."

"Dragon heartstring? Good," said Voldemort, drawing out his own wand to compare the lengths.

The Dark Lord raised Lucius' wand, pointing It directly at the slowly revolving figure suspended over the table and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life and began to struggle against the invisible bonds. Severus raised his eyes to the upside-down face and locked eyes with them. "Severus! Help me!" she screamed in a cracked and terrified voice.

Severus' eyes widened for a fraction of a second when he realized that this was his colleague and occasional friend, Charity Burbage.

"Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked the Dark Lord.

Nodding Severus said, "Yes, my Lord," as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Miss Charity Burbage, who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

There were small noises of comprehension around the table. "Yes … her specialty was muggle studies. It is Miss Burbage's belief that muggles are not so different from us."

One of the Death Eaters spat on the floor, while the rest jeered and hissed. Charity revolved to face Severus again.

"Severus … please .. please… we're friends."

Severus had never felt so impotent in his life, knowing he could do nothing to save Charity now. Wondering why she was here, he remembered Hermione mentioning Charity writing an impassioned defence of Mudbloods in the Daily Prophet two days ago. He'd been planning to warn her at the next staff meeting, but obviously, the Dark Lord worked more quickly than Severus and now it was too late.

While Severus was wool-gathering, Charity Burbage revolved to face him once again, tears pouring from her eyes into her hair. Severus looked back at her, hoping he could convey apologies through his eyes without the Dark Lord knowing as she turned slowly aware of him again.

"Avada Kedavra." The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity fell, with a resounding crash, on to the table below, which trembled and creaked. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs; Draco fell out of his onto the floor.

"Dinner, Nagini," Voldemort cooed, and the great snake swayed and slithered from his shoulders on to the polished wood, devouring Severus' former friend and colleague.

Later that night, he apparated home to Spinner's End, and vomited all over the front step, sobbing. He heard an elderly neighbour, Mrs. Williams, no doubt, come on to her stoop to investigate before muttering, "Just like his father," and walking back inside.

With that comment, Severus stood up rigidly, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, banished the sick and hurried inside. There, he found Hermione recovered from their argument earlier that day, pouring boiling water into the teapot before rushing over to him.

"What happened?"

They sat at the kitchen table, his hand in hers, as he recounted the entire evening. Hermione felt tears slide down her cheek for the sweet Muggle Studies Professor she had respected, but had not had since her third year when she dropped the class.

"Were you close?" Hermione asked, reaching for his hands.

Severus shrugged, "We weren't bosom buddies, but we spent time together. She was a couple of years behind me at Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, and came to teach in 1990, when Quirrell went on sabbatical. It was nice to have a colleague who was close in age and not a total dunderhead. Besides Quirrell and the rotating DADA staff, the other faculty were the same ones who had taught me for seven years. We would sit together at staff meetings, writing notes in the margins of our parchment, and she was a half-blood, so she understood that other parts of my life. Mostly we just smoked together down by the Black Lake.

"I'm sorry you lost a friend," and Hermione meant it; Severus didn't have many friends, and it appeared this was a genuine friendship, even if it wasn't a close one.

"I've lost many friends, but this was the first time I saw one murdered before my eyes," he shuddered. "She begged me to save her life, and I just sat there, staring at her trussed up in the air, revolving around us like a toy."

"There was nothing you could do," Hermione soothed. "Nothing."

"I know, but it doesn't mean it won't haunt me for the rest of my life."

"I'm sad I didn't get to know her better."

Severus' lips quirked up in amusement, and his eyes crinkled slightly as the mirth reached his eyes. "Merlin, we used to bitch about you. You were the only Muggleborn she ever had register for her class. Then when I found out about the time turner," he chuckled, "only Hermione Granger would use a time-turner so she could attend Divination and Muggle Studies!"

Hermione blushed, "Yes, well, I was a tad precocious…"

Severus shot her a look of disbelief, and Hermione giggled.

Hermione was not raised overly religious, but she remembered how her very prim grandmother would light candles in remembrance of the dead. Standing, Hermione rooted through a draw in the kitchen, finding a tall, white taper. Drawing out her wand, she lighted the wick and murmured, "Rest in Peace Professor Burbage."

Severus quietly stood up, kissed her on the top of her head and slipped out the backdoor into the miserable-looking garden. Drawing the pack of cigarettes out of his cloak pocket, Severus placed one between his lips and lit it with a snap of his fingers. He inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke fill up his lungs before exhaling and murmuring, "I'm sorry, Char, we'll kill that bloody bastard."

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed.

Harry stood slowly, having finished packing the last of his things into his rucksack.

"You took your time!" roared Vernon Dursley when Harry appeared at the top of the stairs, "Get down here; I want a word!"

Harry strolled downstairs, his hands deep in his jean pockets. He reached the living room and stood awkwardly, all of the furniture having been packed up and moved into storage the day before by professionals.

Harry stared at his Uncle, who began pacing and then he abruptly stopped in front of Harry and spoke, "I've changed my mind," he said.

"What a surprise," Harry said dully.

Uncle Vernon had blustered and sputtered for most of the summer and, for the last two weeks, had changed his mind daily.

"Vernon," Petunia hissed, "We've discussed this. We're leaving."

Vernon turned to face his wife with his piggy eyes, "On the word of that Snape fellow. Now really Petunia, you can't trust a word that … that delinquent says."

Harry nearly choked at the idea of Professor Snape being a "delinquent," and his eyes held particular mirth, hoping to one day show Hermione and Snape the memory.

"I've never liked Severus, but he knows the wizarding world. He has no motivation to make this up."

"Wasn't he one of them, a follower of Lord Thing – "

"Voldemort," said Petunia and Harry impatiently.

"- and we've been through this a hundred times Vernon," said Petunia shrilly.

"he's a spy!" shouted Harry. "He could have just killed you the day he brought me here, but he didn't. He's offered you protection and a new home, and you will leave tonight with the Order, or you will be tortured and killed. The moment I leave this house tonight, it's no longer safe for you."

"Dad," said Dudley in a loud voice, "Dad – I'm going with these Order people. Harry's right."

Dudley hadn't said much all summer. He hadn't hung out with his friends much, and Harry hadn't actually heard his opinions on the move.

"Dudley," said Harry, "for the first time in your life, you're talking sense."

Any further conversation was interrupted by the doorbell. Relieved to leave the room, Harry ran for the door. Introductions were made, and suddenly the Dursleys, Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle were piling into the Uncle Vernon's car and drive off to a location unknown to Harry.

Harry stood on the stoop, looking on with a mix of relief and curiosity before Dudley jogged back to the front door. He stopped in front of his cousin and stretched out his large hand.

"Blimey Dudley," said Harry, "What's gotten into you?"

"Dunno," muttered Dudley. "See you, Harry."

"Yeah …" said Harry, taking Dudley's hand and shaking it. "Maybe. Take care, Big D."

Dudley nearly smiled, then lumbered back to the car. The door slammed shut, and Uncle Vernon was pulling out of the drive. Harry raised his hand to signal goodbye, Dedalus furious waving while Dudley nodded in acknowledgment. Harry's eyes locked with his Aunt Petunia's for a moment; she gave him an odd tremulous look, and then suddenly, she jerked her head back towards the road, and they were gone.

Harry ran back up to his bedroom, the windows burning scarlet in the now setting sun. He picked up Hedwig's cage, his Firebolt and his rucksack, gave his unnaturally tidy bedroom one last sweeping look. Then he made his way back downstairs, where he deposited his things at the foot of the stairs.

"We'll never be here again," he whispered to Hedwig. Harry walked her through the entryway to Number 4 Privet Drive and stopped outside the door to his old cupboard. "This," he said, kicking the door, "is where I used to sleep. Can you believe it?"

The owl hooted in acknowledgement, and before Harry could continue reminiscing, there was a loud noise coming from outside. Setting his owl down gently, Harry walked through the kitchen and wrenched open the backdoor and saw figures popping into sight as their disillusionment charms lifted. Dominating the scene was Hagrid sitting astride an enormous motorbike with a sidecar attached. All around him, other people were dismounting from brooms.

The group headed towards the door to greet Harry, Ron reaching him first and clapping him on the back. Harry's neck outstretched and asked, "Where's 'Mione?"

"Ah, mate," Ron said, "She's at the Burrow with Mum and Gin. Can't be out fighting. You – you'll understand when you see her. You shoulda seen the nasty row between her and Snape over it. Not that I'll ever admit it to his face, but the bloke was right. 'Mione can't be out fighting yet. Too much risk."

Harry nodded and moved out of the way to greet everyone else and let them into Aunt Petunia's pristine sitting room. His eyes bulged as he saw Mad-Eye entered with two enormous, bulging sacks while his magical eye was spinning from darkening sky to house to the garden.

Looking at the room, Harry noted Ron, Fred and George, Bill, Fleur, Mr. Weasley, Mad-Eye, Tonks, Lupin, Kingsley, Hagrid and Mundungus Fletcher. No Hermione and obviously no Snape, who would be on the other side tonight.

Tonks and Lupin came up to Harry and has Remus hugged him, and Tonks said, "Wotcher Harry, wait until you hear the news…"

Tonks was interrupted by Mad-Eye, who gruffly began to explain the plan devised by Snape and the rest of the Order. The Death Eaters were on strict orders to summon Voldemort if Harry was visible. So the idea was to create a diversion with six different Potters.

Harry could see the flaws in the plan but knew apparition, portkey and floo were out of the question due to ministry monitoring. There was also the fact that Severus had to divulge plans to the Dark Lord. A hint of an illegal portkey could result in Yaxley or Thicknesse laying charges on any Order member. While not offering up access to Harry would result in punishment or death for Severus.

Reluctantly, Harry allowed Fleur to gently pull out some of his hair and add them to the large flask of Polyjuice Mad-Eye had acquired. The fake Potters: Ron, Fred, George, Fleur and Mundungus drank the bright gold potion. All of them gasped and grimaced as the Potion hit their throats, and their features began to bubble and distort like hot wax.

Fred and George turned to each other and said in unison, "Wow – we're identical!"

"I dunno, though, I think I'm still better-looking," said Fred, examining his reflection in the glass hob.

Once dressed, the fake Harry's went took rucksacks. Harry jogged to the entryway to grab his luggage and was shocked to find his trunk and Hedwig gone. He ran back to the sitting room, arms flapping.

Lupin rushed to his side, "What's wrong, Harry?"

"My truck, Hedwig … they're gone! I swear I put them down next to the staircase before you arrived."

"Hedwig's fine," one of the doppelgangers called out, "' Mione sent her elf, Pepper, to come to get her. Mad-Eye wanted stuffed owls, but 'Mione said Hedwig would be too obvious, give ya away."

'So Ron then,' Harry thought to himself before saying, "' Mione has an elf?!"

"Well, Snape does. Prince heir and all that. Turns out Snape is pretty loaded. Not Malfoy rich, but richer than you, I reckon."

Arthur, Lupin and Mad-Eye turned to glare at Ron who blushed sheepishly.

"Enough chit chat," Mad-Eye growled. "Potter, your things are fine; grab the rucksack, and we'll be off."

The group trudged back out to the garden and paired up: George and Lupin, Fred and Arthur, Bill and Fleur, Ron and Tonks, Mad-Eye and Mundungus, leaving Harry and Hagrid.

"Who's with Kingsley?" Harry asked, looking around.

"Er, no one," Arthur said, "Not enough people, so Kingsley will be rear guard."

Harry nodded and rushed to the motorbike, grinning up at Hagrid as he jumped in the sidecar and shoved his rucksack at his feet.

"Is this it? Is this Sirius' bike?"

"The very same," said Hagrid, beaming. "And the last time you were on it, Harry, I could fit yeh in one hand!"

Harry could not help but feel a little humiliated as he got into the sidecar while everybody else hovered on their brooms. Ron smirked at the sight of him sitting there like a child in a bumper car and winked.

"All right then," said Moody. "Everyone ready, please; I want us to leave at exactly the same time, or the whole point of the diversion's lost."

Hagrid kicked the motorbike into life, the sidecar beginning to vibrate as everyone else flew up into the air.

"Good luck, everyone," shouted Moody. "Rendez-vous at the Burrow!"