Happy Friday!

A long chapter for you all - almost 9k! Some important things will be revealed, some happy things set up for the next few chapters.

A recap, should you need it:

After the disastrous battle at the Ministry, which left Bellatrix Lestrange dead by Hermione's wand, the Dark Lord has given Draco Malfoy the special task of killing her. Draco, turned by Severus and Hermione, crafted a plot through which he can 'poison' Hermione, thus earning the favor of the Dark Lord and buying Hermione some time to work on some special projects (namely, Horcuxes, Hallows, and souls). However, at the last minute, Ron also ingested some of the poison. What happens next...

Chapter 59

Harry Potter sat in the office of Severus Snape feeling exhausted, overwhelmed, and defiant. His blood was still pumping in his ears and the Time Turner that Hermione had slipped into his hand in the Gryffindor Common Room earlier felt slightly warm against his chest. He had no idea how to feel about the man before him, still and intense, almost dangerous with contained energy. Most people would have thought the Potions Master was merely not moving – but Harry Potter had only made it this far with a finely tuned sense for danger.

Severus Snape stared at the boy – man? – sitting sullenly in the single chair in his office with mixed feelings of relief and the same old sense of resentment, frustration, and desperation. He didn't want to like Harry Potter of all people. Need him to save the world? Frustrating in that it was out of his hands, frustrating that it was Potter, frustrating that it seemed writ in the fates of the Wizarding World, but he could accept it, large and bitter a pill as it was. Need to face him in class, those Lily-green eyes staring out of James Potter's face? A faint old hurt, nothing more. Need to save his ungrateful arse once again? Understandable, expected even, despite the frequent risk to his own life.

But to look at this half-grown wizard he half-hated in front of him and know, know, that it was him that he had to thank for saving the woman that was rapidly meaning more to him that he meant to himself… it was distinctly uncomfortable. He didn't quite know what to say.

Potter broke the silence. "Um – did you need me for something more? Um, professor?" He was tense as well, preparing to be eviscerated with words, threatened with expulsion, anything but-

"Thank you." The words ground out of him, and Severus felt himself glaring at Potter as he said them.

Those green eyes went wide behind smudged round glasses. "Uh - You're wel-"

"I need to know exactly what happened," Severus interrupted smoothly, as if he had never thanked him in the first place. "The Headmaster will want a report, and as H- Miss Granger is still indisposed, and, I believe, was unconscious through the entire night, it has to come from you. Don't leave any details out."

This was more like the Snape that Harry knew. He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. "Why can't I tell the Headmaster myself? Professor."

Snape's glare intensified. "Because I am going to be monitoring the care of both Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, so I also need to know what happened, you halfwit." Ah. It felt better to be back on familiar ground with the boy.

Anger flashed in Harry's eyes, but he gave in. "So, we were in the Library, and we were waiting for Malfoy to get Hermione's quill. Hermione sent me and Ron off to get a book so that he would be able to do it without anyone seeing. When we got back, Hermione picked up the quill and – um, she uh kicked me so that I would know it was happening." He hesitated briefly. "She put down the quill and just went still. Then Ron reached over and grabbed it –"

"And you didn't try to stop him?" Severus asked, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Did you want to lose the liability, Potter, or –"

"You can stop insulting me any moment, now, Professor," Harry spat. When he saw the flash of warning in Snape's eyes, he visibly tried to rein his anger in. "No, I didn't realize he was going to put it in his mouth. I tried knocking it out, but it touched his mouth and he went still, then Hermione started foaming at the mouth, and I was – I was stuck."

Severus felt his heart beating fast as Potter recounted the tale. "You only had one bezoar."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Just one. And I knew that I had to make a decision, but I couldn't decide who to give it to, but Hermione had told me that it was a matter of seconds that I had to get it in her. So – so I used the one I had and then Ginny came running over."

This was both a surprise and not, thought Severus. The youngest Weasley was nothing like most of her brothers - none of the brashness of Bill or Charlie, none of the sheer potential for destruction of the twins, little of the studiousness of the swot who had become prefect, and apparently none of the idiocy of the annoyance Potter insisted on dragging around. As a man who prided himself on reading people and doing it well, Severus was surprised to find that he had spent little time reflecting on Ginny Weasley in the last few years. He had known she was intended to be a match for Potter, and the last time he had thought of her, Severus had dismissed her as shy and damaged by absorbing too much of the Dark Lord's mind as a child. He would have to ask Hermione about the girl when she was well.

"And she had brought you the other bezoar you used on Mr. Weasley?" Severus asked. There was a thread of danger in his tone – he wanted to know what Potter's choice had been.

There was something tight in Harry's face as he nodded. "I had given the one I had to Hermione," he admitted, guilt etched in the clench of his hands. "I didn't know what to do about Ron, and then Ginny came over and shoved it in my hand and said that – um that you had given to her and ordered her to run to the library like her life depended on it. How did you know it was going to be both of them?"

Ah. That detail Potter had almost neglected. "I didn't," bit out Severus. "I'm going to need that Time Turner, apparently." Sometimes, basing his interactions with students off of talking to Hermione made everyone seem unbearably slow. "I have a bezoar to deliver."

Realization crashed onto Potter's features – Hermione was really going to have to work with him on how to keep every stray thought he had from telegraphing itself on his face. "Oh. Um – yeah. Uh, Hermione has this whole lecture about time-streams and not having them cross-"

Severus rolled his eyes and stood, thrusting out a hand. "Give it, Potter. I was the one who helped Miss Granger figure out how to avoid her own time streams in the first place."

Hesitantly, Harry handed over the Time Turner, the gold chain winking in his hand. "Did – I made the right choice, didn't I?"

"Yes," Severus said immediately. "Mr. Weasley is your friend, but Hermione is vital to the war effort. If she died we would be severely damaged. The only other people whose deaths would cause such disarray would be yours. If she died, the work of the Order would grind to a halt, and you would be unprotected." And I would be lost.

There was wonder in Potter's eyes. "How – how long has she been doing so much?" There, a furrow in the brow as he thought and thought and thought…

"You should ask her," Severus said shortly.

A knock sounded at the door.

Severus drew his wand, flicking it to open the door quickly. Tonks stood there. Seeing Harry, she gave a quick wave.

"Wotcher, Harry. Professor Snape. The Headmaster asked that I escort Harry to Gryffindor Tower and make sure he's secure for the night." She shuffled from foot to foot. "Is Hermione going to be ok? And Ronald?"

Severus nodded brusquely. "They should both be fine. Potter somehow had the wherewithal to carry around bezoars. Take him, I have work to do."

Harry scowled and followed Tonks out the door. As it closed, Severus could hear him asking, "Um – do I really need an escort back to the Common Room?"

Idiot boy. He didn't realize he normally did have a shadow, one who made sure he was always more or less safe and sound. Severus sighed and turned to his storeroom, opening a small box to remove a wrinkled stone. It seemed he had some time traveling to do.

Hermione felt her consciousness slowly rising out of the dark. The smell of Pepper-Up potions, crisp laundered sheets, and the quiet chill in the air swiftly let her know that she was in Hospital Wing. Even now, after having lived in the magical world for years, Hermione was still surprised that the Hospital Wing didn't smell like alcohol and antiseptics, like harsh muggle chemicals. House elves had no need for such things when they cleaned by magic, when messes could just vanish.

Her limbs felt sluggish and her mouth full of cotton. Otherwise, she felt quite well for someone who had just been poisoned. She licked her lips drily and thought of water, sighing at the thought of sitting up long enough to get some.

A shape shifted to her left, setting her heartbeat racing before she realized it was merely Severus. His lanky form rustled in the darkness before a swish of his wand closed the curtains around her bed and lit a candle. Another wave and a quiet murmur ensured they would not be overheard. "Awake?" he asked in a low voice.

"Obviously," she drawled – although the effect was ruined by the rasp of her voice. "Water?"

"Of course," said Severus. Someone, either Madam Pomfrey or the house elves had left a pitcher of water on the side table along with tall glasses. He filled one quietly, the pouring of water echoing in the quiet of the Hospital Wing, then helped her sit up and drink, sitting on her bed to do so.

The warmth of his arm around her and the smoky smell of his robes made a feeling of deep comfort settle around Hermione. He was safety and warmth, the smell of potions and his aftershave, the man she loved.

"You look happy for someone whose been asleep for nearly two days," he said, giving her a hint of a crooked smile.

She smiled up at him, warmth in her eyes. "You make me happy. Two days?"

Severus made sure that her pillows were supporting her, and let her go, settling on the bed next to Hermione. "Two days," he said solemnly. "There was an unforeseen… circumstance." His brow wrinkled, betraying the tension in his body.

Hermione frowned, racking her memories. Everything had gone perfectly up until – "Ron?" she asked with trepidation, worry curling in her belly. "Is he…?"

"Alive," Severus said hurriedly. "He's alive. He hasn't woken up yet, but we expect he will soon. You were smart to give your Time Turner to Potter – I was able to get a bezoar to Miss Weasley, and then she was able to get it to the library in time to save her brother. Both Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley have been lauded as heroes, whose quick thinking saved the day. Slughorn produced the antidote that I had brewed, and split the dosage between the two of you while I used the Time Turner to go back and produce more of it. It was a close call, and it took longer to give you the antidote than I had hoped for, but all should be well." To reassure her, he stroked her leg through the bedclothes, grounding both of them through touch.

Hermione yawned and stretched. "Two days… that sets us back a bit. Did you get Yaxley? How many days has it been for you?" Looking closely at him, she could see dark circles under his eyes and grease in his hair – it had been a long two days for Severus.

"It's been five days or so for me. Yaxley is waiting for you in the dungeons. The house elves found us a space and were promptly Obliviated – with their full permission, before you give me that look," Severus said quickly. To anyone else his voice sounded harsh, but it made Hermione smile fondly. "We are going to keep you and Weasley out of the public view for at least two weeks. The story will be that we have moved you to private rooms here in the Hospital Wing, and Potter and the other Weasley will be by to visit your bedsides to keep up the fiction. Of course, we could always keep Mr. Weasley in a real coma, just to keep up the pretense…"

Hermione flapped a hand at him. "It will be fine. Ron will enjoy a vacation from school work. He can stay at Safe House Three for a while and feel useful. He's been chafing recently, with Harry and I having a bigger role in the Order. We want to keep the bonds between him and Harry strong, not strain them with anything unnecessary."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Feel useful or be useful?"

"I won't tell you to be nice because I don't like wasting my breath," Hermione said tartly. "Be useful. Ron isn't useless – he just doesn't focus well or apply himself because he doesn't see the point when he's already been overshadowed by everyone else. He's a decent tactician – we'll ask him to review our contingency plans and to expand the ones that have to do with Hogwarts because he's familiar with the terrain. He was already going to try to make a plan for the DA to get the younger students out of Hogwarts if we're attacked, so he can work on that."

Seeing her annoyance, Severus reached over and took Hermione's hand, swiping his thumb over the back of her hand. "And where will you stay for the next two weeks?" A prickle of anxiety curled in his belly. Over the last five days, thinking of what had to be done with Yaxley, he had routinely thought of possibilities for how it could work.

Hermione flexed her hand where Severus had suddenly gripped it hard and gave him a knowing look. "Did you have an idea?" She brought her other hand up to caress his cheek. He felt like blushing or looking away.

"The chamber Yaxley is being held in is in the dungeons," he said slowly. "Your set of extra rooms is close to Gryffindor Tower, and roaming the halls disguised when you are meant to be in a coma in the Hospital Wing would, perhaps, not be prudent. Not that your skills with disguise aren't good, but-"

"Spit it out, Severus," Hermione said, wry humor in her voice.

He gave her an exasperated look, one that she knew meant that he wanted desperately to hide from her. "My new quarters, despite being in a tower, have a secret passage that leads the dungeons," he said quickly. "As Head of Slytherin, I need to be able to get there quickly. The exit is close to where Yaxley is being kept. And I have a direct Floo line to Safe House Three."

Hermione arched a brow at him, silently enjoying his flustered rambling. It was odd, to see Severus so unsure, so hesitant. "Was there a question there?"

Severus scowled blackly at Hermione. "Perhaps there was an insinuation," he muttered.

"You can ask, you know," Hermione said, leaning forward and caressing his face once more. The roughness of his stubble made her want to smile. "My answer will probably be yes."

The scowl on his face only deepened. "If you think it is prudent or convenient, you are more than welcome to stay in my chambers. With me." He found it difficult to look at her, staring resolutely at the corner of the bedframe.

Those damnably soft hands on his cheek turned his gaze to the woman in front of him. "If you're asking me to stay with you then my answer is yes, Severus. If you are merely insinuating…"

A bubble of confidence of joy grew in his chest, a feeling that made him lighter, that made him want to duck his head like a boy. "Please stay with me, Hermione," he murmured, sliding closer to her.

She laughed, a low ripple. "It's easier when you know I've already said yes, isn't it?" Her hand cupped his cheek, warm and kind.

"Yes," he agreed, leaning in to brush her lips with a kiss. "I'm looking forward to it."

She returned the kiss chastely, aware she had not brushed her teeth in two days. "Tomorrow I'll take Ron over to Safe House Three. Can you get permission from Dumbledore for me to take Harry as well? I'll use the Time Turner so no one notices him missing. I think it's important for him to be part of telling Ron more of my role."

Severus frowned at her. "Is the Time Turner necessary? I'm worried it's being used too much, Hermione."

Hermione considered for a moment, running her fingers over the back of his hand. "If he has an excuse, I suppose. But it would be a hard pill to swallow for him to have a detention right after saving two lives, wouldn't it?"

"I'm the evil bat of the dungeons," Severus drawled, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "Everyone knows I don't give two shits."

"Very well then," said Hermione, laughing quietly. "Can you find a way to ask Harry to meet us here in the morning?"

The next morning, a quiet and sleepy Sunday, Hermione awoke in her hospital bed once more, this time to weak fall sunlight streaming in through the arched windows. She yawned widely, and smiled to herself, still able to faintly smell the scent of Severus's aftershave on her pillows. As if on an alarm, Madam Pomfrey bustled in, pulling aside the curtains briskly.

"You've made far too much of a habit of ending up here," she told Hermione sternly. "You need to be careful, Miss Granger." While her voice was tart, her face was soft. Madam Pomfrey was used to being a keeper of secrets – her examinations meant that she knew exactly how old Hermione was and how many times Severus had been injured. She always just healed them, without a word to anyone else.

Hermione sat up, yawning again. "At least it isn't Harry this time?" she offered, giving the older woman a sheepish grin.

Poppy Pomfrey tsked at her as she pulled out her wand and began running diagnostic tests. "It looks like you're all in the clear, love," she said, patting Hermione's hand gently. "The Headmaster let me in on our little plan. Mr. Weasley awoke last night as well, but he's still sleeping this morning." Hermione noticed her eyes flick to the seat where Severus had been waiting for her to wake up. "I've closed off this part of the Hospital Wing, so the poor fourth years who grew themselves some antlers won't notice you and Mr. Weasley up and about. The house elves will being you some breakfast shortly, and then I believe you are to meet with Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Tonks in my office. Don't let me see you again too soon, my dear." With a brief smile, Madam Pomfrey left to tend to Ron.

She wondered how much the Healer knew. Severus was good at controlling his emotions and keeping his comings and goings private – but had she noticed Severus coming to sit with her? Uncomfortable at the thought, Hermione mulled it over while she dressed, then stood at the mirror to apply the Glamours that had slipped while she was unconscious. Someone, probably Ginny, had left her a folded pile of clothes, not her usual school uniforms. While there was nothing like a shower after being unconscious for a few days, Hermione applied cleaning spells. It wouldn't do to be found upright and walking to the student baths when she was supposed to be unconscious.

Hermione knew that what she had with Severus had to be secret, at least for now. He was her professor, for Merlin's sake, and if the wrong people found out while she was still in school there would be an uproar. But would they keep it a secret forever?

Part of her, she had to admit, wanted it to be a secret forever. However, she wasn't sure if that was out of a gut-deep knowledge that if the Dark Lord discovered that Severus had feelings for her, that her Potions Master would die a long and painful death, or if it was out of something else. A need for privacy? A desire for something of her own? A wish to avoid the judging eyes of those around her?

But there was also a small thrill that ran down her spine at the thought of walking down a public street hand in hand with Severus. Of it being assumed that she would care for him if injured, or that he would of course sit by her side as she recovered. Of the world knowing that he was loved, that someone thought Severus worth loving openly and proudly. Perhaps that would change a few minds – Hermione wouldn't hold her breath, but she could dream.

It could mean the end of his career – but Severus hated teaching. Perhaps, when the war was over…

And that was where these day dreams always ended. The war would have to be over first. Hermione sighed, and began wrangling her bushy hair into a braid. Cleaning spells always infuriated her fussy curls, and it would take something close a metric ton of conditioner to get them to smooth out and calm down later.

A sharp crack heralded Dobby popping into the room with a laden breakfast tray. He gave a squeak of joy when he saw Hermione, and then almost fainted when Harry poked his head around the curtains. It took a moment to insist that the Great Harry Potter Sir didn't need any additional breakfast, but soon Harry and Hermione were alone in the curtained off space.

Harry crushed Hermione in a hug as soon as Dobby was gone, squeezing her tightly. Hermione returned the embrace, feeling tears rising to her eyes.

"You must have been so scared," she said quietly, feeling his heart beating rapidly against her chest. Harry was too damn skinny still. "But you did a magnificent job."

"I almost lost you and Ron," Harry said thickly. "This was a stupid plan and we should never do anything like it again."

Hermione pulled away to sit on the bed, patting the space next to her. Harry sighed, but sat down. "It worked," she said seriously. "I'll fill you in when we go to our next location, but it worked."

"Next location?" asked Harry. "Dumbledore just told me to come here this morning and to tell everyone I had detention with Snape."

Hermione raised a finger, then checked the anti-eavesdropping spells that had been cast the night before. She added a few more before answering. "Just wanted to make sure it's all good. We decided last night that we'd take Ron to Safe House Three this morning. I think it might be time he learn some more of what's happening with the Order." She watched Harry carefully for how he would react.

It was clear he was anxious – Harry worried at his lip for a moment, then reached up to remove his glasses and clean them on his robes, the Muggle way. "I'm worried he's going to be pissed as hell at us," Harry said quietly. "And… I think he's be right to be."

"Me too," admitted Hermione. "If we had let him in on the plan, he would have never been so close to getting hurt. And we've been keeping a lot from him. You've known about my place in the Order since the Ministry. He's going to feel like we were deliberately keeping him out of the loop." She mulled it over for a second. "We do have a few excuses. His mother is going to be furious that we told him. We could use our fear of the wrath of Molly Weasley."

Harry looked at her strangely. "Or we could just tell him the truth." There was an unspoken accusation behind his words – that she was becoming more and more Slytherin to him every day.

"Or we could tell the truth," Hermione conceded awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm just so used to – well, to hiding all of this. The more people who know…"

"Ron isn't 'people,' Hermione," Harry said, but there was kindness in his green eyes. "He'll be hurt but we have been keeping secrets from him."

He was right, and Hermione knew it. "We should give him more credit," she said. "Hopefully he'll be able to respond well."

After eating, Harry slipped out of the curtained off area, then motioned to Hermione that it was safe to emerge. Tonks was waiting in Madam Pomfrey's office, enjoying a cup of tea with the matron. She gave Hermione a friendly hug, nearly knocking the teapot from Madam Pomfrey's desk to the floor in the process.

Tonks was updating Hermione as the responses of the Ministry when Ron entered with Harry.

He looked to be in worse shape than she did – pale as milk, with his freckles standing out stark from his skin. Ron had always been tall and lanky, but he looked skinny and tired. He ate like a hippogriff, but that was probably just to break even every day, Hermione realized. Two days of magical nutrition had not done him any favors.

Ron crossed the room to Hermione and enfolded her in a bear hug, much like Harry had done. Hermione clung to him tightly as well, the drop in her stomach reminding her that as much as Ron drove her crazy, she would be devastated if he had died.

"How much did Harry fill in?" she asked, ruffling his hair fondly as she pulled away.

Ron glanced at Harry, a small frown on his face. "Not much," he said pointedly. "Said we had to Floo somewhere first?"

Tonks stood up, nodding. "Dumbledore's orders," she said cheerfully. "Convalescing at Safe House Three. This Floo has been given special permissions, just for this morning."

Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at the banked fire. It erupted into frames taller than Hermione's head a moment later, filling the almost six foot high fireplace. Wizarding fireplaces had looked so odd to Hermione before she had learned about Flooing – now it was easy to identify which fireplaces were attached to the Floo Network by the height. It made sense for Madam Pomfrey to have a Floo of her own in her office – she often consulted with St Mungos, and if additional Healers or anxious parents were required, it was easier to Floo directly to the Hospital Wing in an emergency.

Hermione stepped up to the flames first, accepting a pinch of Floo powder from Madam Pomfrey. The moment it hit the flames, emerald green light bathed her face. She stepped into the cool flames, and clearly said, "Lewis House!"

She was spinning through the fireplace, keeping her arms well tucked in. Last thing she wanted was a burned hand from someone else's fire. Hermione almost fell into the well kept kitchen of the illusion, where a bored Elphias Doge was reading The Daily Prophet and sipping a cup of tea. He was quick on the draw, but Hermione was quicker. She Vanished the cup of tea before he had squeaked out a request for the passcode.

Note to self – take him off rotation here, she thought. Might be getting a bit slow. "A death by fire is merely a new beginning," she told him. "We're expecting a few more." He looked a bit dejected as he raised his cup of tea halfway to his mouth, then realized it was empty.

Soon, Harry, Ron, and then Tonks had tumbled through the fireplace. Ron looked a bit woozy – Hermione wasn't surprised. Flooing or Apparating to the illusion that guarded Safe House Three was always difficult – and Apparating directly to the Safe House was even worse.

Doge pointed his wand at Tonks and asked a few verification questions, which she answered easily, before letting them through. Hermione let Tonks explain how the wardrobe worked, letting Harry and Ron go in front of her. With a brisk nod to Doge, she passed through the back of the wardrobe, something tight clutching at her chest as the familiar feeling of fur coats tickling her nose made her smile with something like homesickness. Safe House Three was as close to a safe space as she had in the world, with her parent's home a soot-filled hole in the ground. Her bedroom in Safe House Three was warded to her exact specifications, her office for the Order, her summer hide-away with Severus.

When she emerged, Ron and Harry were being greeted by a surprised Cedric. Hermione winced – it appeared that they had all forgotten to let him know.

"Hermione!" Cedric said cheerfully. "What's all this?" He looked like he was considering crossing the room to shake her hand or give her a hug, but thought better of it.

Hermione gave him a brief smile, her gut stirring uneasily in anticipation of the conversation she and Harry would have to have with Ron. "Hey, Cedric. Ron is going to be staying here for a while with you – do you think Minny or Dobby could get the room opposite yours ready for him?"

Dobby popped into the sitting room with a loud crack. "Dobby is already getting the room ready!" he announced proudly. "And fetched books and clothings from Gryffindor Tower!"

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry said, smiling at the elf fondly. "Remind me to get you an extra pair of socks for Christmas."

While Harry and Ron chatted with the elf, Hermione drew Tonks aside and gestured to Cedric. "We're going to tell Ron about my role in the Order now," she murmured. "I don't know what his reaction is going to be. If he storms down here, don't let him leave."

Tonks raised her eyebrows. "Little faith?" she asked. "He is a Weasley."

Crossing her arms, Hermione frowned slightly. "He is," she admitted. "Precautions, that's all."

Harry suggested going up to see Ron's room with a significant glance at Hermione. I really need to teach him subtly, she thought ruefully as she nodded. They walked, rather than bounded, up the stairs – Hermione found that to her surprise, she was winded when they reached the top. She shuddered – she hated poisons.

Ron's room faced to the east, and the rising morning sun was shining brightly on the wooden floorboards. Much like Hermione's room, it was tucked into the eaves of the roof, with a slanted ceiling and a desk nestled under it. It was decorated in cool shades of blue and cream – the only hint of Chudley Cannon Orange was from a scarf Dobby had hung from the back of a chair. Ron crossed the room to the dresser, pulling it open to find his clothes neatly folded.

"This is the life," he said, slightly awestruck. He turned, and flopped down on the bed. "The life," he said again, a smile coming to his face.

Hermione pulled out her wand, and conjured two plush chairs for her and Harry to sit in while they talked. Ron gaped at her.

"Hermione! You can't use magic outside of school!" he protested.

Hermione sank into her chair, feeling the tension in every line of her body. "I can use magic here," she said quietly. "Ron, Harry and I have something to tell you." She noticed that to her right, Harry visibly tensed as well.

To her surprise, Ron sat up and leaned forward, a serious expression on his still-pale face. "Yeah, I figured since you were up sooner you'd know more of what was going on. Harry said we've been out for two days!" Harry opened his mouth then closed it, looking toward Hermione. Ron noticed, and frowned. "What's going on?"

Hermione took in a huge breath. "Let me put up some wards first." She cast everything she could think of, some necessary, some just to buy time. They would have to tread very carefully with Ron – he was a loyal friend, except when his ego was bruised. This could be very bruising to his ego indeed.

Finally, she sighed. Ron was already eyeing her suspiciously. "We have to have a difficult conversation, Ron," she said haltingly. "What I'm afraid of is you jumping to conclusions, feeling personally hurt, or storming out and not giving us a chance to talk."

Ron looked increasingly alarmed. "Don't – don't tell me you and Harry are dating now," he said, shock on his face. "Harry, mate –"

"No!" Hermione and Harry both exclaimed at the same time, then looked at each other and laughed.

"See, Ron, this is what Hermione means about you jumping to conclusions," Harry said, raising an eyebrow at Ron. "Let her finish."

Ron pressed a hand to his chest. "Nearly gave me a bloody heart attack," he muttered. "Sorry, Hermione."

Hermione folded her hands in her lap. "What I'd like you to do is to hear me and Harry out, and then let us know how you feel about all of the information that we have to give you," she continued, as if the interruption hadn't happened. She was glad it had – some of the tension in the air had evaporated. "I'm expecting you might be a bit upset with us, and you have every right to be, and we want to work on making it right."

"Blimey, Hermione," said Ron, rubbing the back of his head. "Spit it out."

Hermione took a deep breath. "I've been a member of the Order since the end of our fourth year," she said slowly. "But since our second year, I've been coming here every summer to get extra trainings so that if something happened – like the graveyard or the Ministry – we would have a better chance of surviving. I've been using the Time Turner extra, and now I'm nearly four years older than I appear to be. I'm not seventeen, I'm probably nearly twenty-one by now with all of the extra time." Ron's face was still, but his hands were clenched. She steeled herself, and continued. "Dumbledore said it had to be a secret – that if Death Eaters or the Dark Lord attacked, no one would suspect the tiny Muggleborn girl could be a threat."

Harry leaned forward, green eyes earnest. "Hermione told me right before we went into the Ministry," he said, anxiety in his voice. "She made me swear to listen to her, but she didn't really have time to explain. She came over to my house over the summer break, and gave me more details. I was inducted into the Order over the summer. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but it was because we couldn't."

Ron looked as though he was boiling. "So you've both been keeping secrets from me," he spat, real anger in his voice. "What the hell? Is – is this punishment for fourth year? For me not believing you, Harry?" There was a thread of fear in his voice as well, one that Hermione privately thought was well deserved.

"Of course not!" Harry exclaimed, looking hurt. Hermione breath caught in her throat – Harry was on the verge of getting angry.

"Ron, it wasn't time for you to know," she interjected. "For one, your mother didn't want you involved in any Order business until you were 17. We're a ways away from March, but we think it's important to tell you now. I was only inducted into the Order because I started helping with intelligence reports. Harry was only inducted because we forced Dumbledore's hand."

Harry looked at Hermione, then back at Ron. "But we think you need to know now," he said firmly. "Because things are changing, Ron. And if you can forgive us for keeping secrets from you, we want you to be part of the change we want to bring to the Order."

There was a vulnerability in Ron's face, in the intense worry in his body. Hermione knew that he was facing so many of his fears – the fear of being left behind, the fear of no longer being Harry's best friend, the fear of not being good enough. With a glance over to Harry, she saw that he could see it too.

"Hermione, could I speak with Ron for a second?" Harry asked quietly. "Alone?"

Part of Hermione's heart ached with the same fear that Ron was feeling. Harry was a leader, Harry was the most important person in the room at all times, Harry was her best friend. But she understood – Ron needed a kind of reassurance that she could not give him.

"Of course," she murmured. "I'll be in my office. Three doors down." Feeling small, she left the room and walked down the familiar hall to her bedroom and office. The wards hummed at her, as happy to see her as magic could be.

The slightly musty smell of a room that hadn't been touched in months hit Hermione in the face when she pushed open the door. She had begun warding the room so well that the house elves couldn't get in as soon as she had started reading intelligence reports. A thin layer of dust had settled on furniture – Minny would have pulled her bat ears over her eyes to hide from the shame. Hermione cast a few spells wordlessly, Vanishing the dust and brightening the air. She settled into her desk chair and ran her fingers over the smooth wood. The overhead hutch was filled with small cubbyholes; she pulled a sheet of parchment from one and a fresh quill from another. Making a to-do list was in order – she had a precious two weeks to devote to her projects.

1.Figure out how to Secret-Keep information, write to Charlotte. Consult with Flitwick if needed.

2.Experiment with soul entrapment.

a.Use that necklace that DM had

3.Devise a way to get that thing out of his head.

4.Get the Hallows story planted.

It was going to be a busy vacation.

She was writing furiously, doing Arithmantic formulae with the Fidelous Charm, when there was a quiet knock at her door. Hermione stilled, feeling anxiety form that familiar pit in her stomach. She pushed it down, and opened the door to a sheepish Ron.

"Can I come in?" he asked, not bothering to hide that he was peering around her.

Hermione nodded, gesturing at the chair Severus normally occupied. "Feeling better?" she asked hopefully.

Ron gave her a rueful look. "I feel like shit," he said honestly. "First, I'm tired as hell. Second, my best friends have been keeping massive secrets from me. And I'm also pissed as hell because I wasn't let in on a plan that almost killed me. But…I think maybe I kind of deserved it." His eyes were haunted in a way that she had often seen her own in the mirror, often seen Severus', often seen Harry's.

Hermione frowned at him, reaching over to touch his large hand. "You don't, Ron," she said gently.

"I do," he insisted. "I think… I think I've been able to be a child for longer than you and Harry have been able to, you know? Like, as soon as our first year Harry knew this was going to be his fight. And you and I knew we would be on his side. But…" he sighed heavily. "But you went and did what you do best and got over-prepared for it all and I did what I do best and stuck my head in the sand for as long as possible. Like it was homework." There was a ring of truth in his words, one that neither Hermione nor Ron could deny.

Hermione gave him a wry smile. "You always do quite well on the exams after you've had enough time to cram," she told him, patting his hand. "And if you don't have a problem looking over my notes, so to speak, in this circumstance, I'm sure you'll rise to the occasion."

The quiet praise made Ron square his shoulders and sit up straight. "What can I do?" he asked seriously. "I don't want to be a kid anymore. I want – I want to be part of this full-on."

Smoothly, Hermione called another piece of parchment to her with wandless magic and set quill to paper. "Let's draw you up a to-do list," she said in her primmest tone, aiming for a laugh. Ron gave her one, but didn't groan in the way he often did when it was homework. "First of all, you need to be inducted into the Order."

Ron winced. "My mum-"

"Your mum is only one of your parents," Hermione said, steel in her voice. "Molly Weasley is all bark and all bite. Your father on the other hand – he's a sensible man when it doesn't concern electricity. Get your father behind you, and your mother can scream all she wants in the Burrow."

Hermione frowned at her parchment, then used her wand to nudge 1. Order induction down the page and change the 1 to a 2. "No. Being part of the Order means being privy to secret information. Number one for you is to learn Occlumency."

She looked up and straight into his wide blue eyes, pushing past his feeble protest with more force than she needed, just so that he would register the attack. Instantly she was awash in his thoughts, swimming in those currents of shame and guilt and anger and earnest trying. She pulled out, not wanting to see the conversation that had occurred between him and Harry.

"You have no defenses," she told him briskly. "I'll work with you and Harry at the same time. Over the next two weeks, while I'm not here, I'll ask Cedric to help you out – he's quite good."

Ron looked ready to splutter at her, but cooled when she gave him a raised eyebrow. "You look like Snape when you do that," he said instead, a note of resignation in his voice. "What else?"

Hermione smiled sweetly at him. "Good. Over the next two weeks, we need to lay low because I need some time to work on some… special projects. I was supposed to be the only one 'indisposed,' but since you decided to join me, you get a brief vacation. Or rather, you get to do some work here at Safe House Three and start making yourself useful to the Order."

"But – shouldn't I be making myself useful to Harry?" asked Ron, furrowing his brow. "You know – getting ready for when it's the three of us-" He stopped when he saw Hermione's face and heaved yet another sigh. "I feel like you're going to tell me yet another thing that makes me feel like I'm twelve fucking years old."

Hermione shook her head. "I had to tell Harry this exact thing this summer if it makes you feel any better," she told him. "Ron, it can't ever be you, me, and Harry against the Dark Lord and all of his Death Eaters to save the world." She said it gently, knowing that yet another piece of that childhood innocence was chipping away. She declined to add 'like in a fairy tale or story book' so that it felt less like treating him like he was twelve.

"There are hundreds of Death Eaters," she said, deadly serious. "Hundreds of adult witches and wizards out to protect the Dark Lord and his interests. Some of them are in-bred idiots with power fantasies, yes, but there are many more who are powerful, in more ways than one. He has a strong fighting force, a strong political force, and some of the most sadistic and innovative Dark spell casters and spell creators in Europe. If we look at people who are allied with him if not Marked, they number in the thousands. The Dark Lord is charismatic and strong, and represents a nativist, anti-Muggle sentiment that has had hundreds of years to brew in Europe. Three teenagers, no matter how highly skilled, cannot stand a chance of defeating him magically, or what he represents on a much larger level."

"So what do we do?" asked Ron bleakly. "We can't give up."

"No, we can't give up," Hermione agreed. "We have to fight him on as many levels. The Order is as much a political group – albeit a secret one for the moment – as a fighting group. We are trying to spread our influence to Europe – hence why it was such a success to snag a famous young Quidditch star like Viktor to our cause. As much rides on what we do after the final battle as what we do to prepare."

Ron nodded slowly. "So there is going to be a final battle?" he asked. "Is that where you and I come in?"

"We are part of all of it," Hermione said firmly. "Ron, as much as I saw it's not going to be just the three of us, if we make it out of all of this shit intact, we are going to be public figures at a mythical level. And we will have to be – Harry Potter, a half-blood, teaming up with a Muggleborn and a Pureblood to use 'friendship and love' to defeat evil. But before we can get there, we need to use the resources of the entire Order to weaken the Dark Lord, engineer a final battle we can win, and bring this whole bloody system tumbling down."

She tapped the paper in front of her. "This is what I want you to think about over the next two weeks," she said firmly. "Everyone claims that you're a good strategist because you play chess." Hermione saw him puff up at the words, even though his worry, and gave him a thin slice of a smile, crafted to deflate. "But I don't know if that's true. I think that chess is a game with set rules – but I admit, maybe that's a muggle perspective and Wizard's Chess is a different game. But you're also a fan of Quidditch, and of other games of strategy."

From one of the little cubbyholes, Hermione pulled out a map of Hogwarts and handed it to Ron. "I'm giving you a test, Ronald Weasley," she said, holding his eyes with her own. "Imagine Hogwarts at the site of the Final Battle – Dumbledore thinks that given the hold this place has on the Dark Lord, it may very well be there. Start planning our defense, our offense, how we could get the students out if it's during the school year. If this goes well, this is what we will present to the Order to justify your admission." Using her wand, she nudged 2. Order induction to number 3 on her parchment.

Ron studied the map, concentration settling on his face. "By – by myself?" he asked.

Hermione grinned at him. "You're learning," she said approvingly. "No. Cedric is here – he can collaborate with you. He can also sponsor you for the Order if he feels that it goes well." She was quiet, letting the pressure settle upon him.

"This is – this feels scary," Ron admitted, leaning back and looking at her. "Hermione, I don't know if I'm ready."

"Do you want to be?" she asked him.

The question hung in the air for a moment, and Hermione was gratified to see that Ron was truly considering it. "I want to be," he said finally. "But I'm scared I won't be enough."

Hermione stood, coming around her desk to ruffle Ron's hair. "I have faith in you, Ron," she said. "And Harry does too. If this turns out not to be your strength, we will find another place for you."

She crossed the room to the door, holding it open for her lanky friend. "We'll talk more once you have at least some basic shields in place," she said, letting him go before her. "It's time, Ron – you don't get to be part of this just because you helped Harry save me from a troll our first year. It's time to earn your role."

Ron reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. "Harry said something like that to me," he said. "I want to stop feeling like a – what does Snape always say? Like a dunderhead."

"You have your chance," she said, nodding to the rolled up map in his hand. "This is based on your merits, Ron. Now. Let's have a cup of tea with Harry, Cedric, and Tonks before we have return to the castle." She turned and started heading down the stairs.

Harry was speaking with Tonks in a low voice when they appeared in the living room. Anxiously he broke off his sentence, looking up at Hermione and Ron on the stairs.

A heavy weight settled on Hermione's shoulders – Ron's arm slung over them. "I'm all good," he said with a put-upon sigh. "And Hermione's even given me homework."

And so ends Chapter 59!

It has been a while, hasn't it? Not as long as last time, but a while nonetheless. The good news is, I've already gotten a portion of Chapter 60 (are we here already?) written, so hopefully the wait won't be quite so long. Please review! Even if it's been a few months since I've posted - I still check nearly every day, and often a nice review is what makes me dig up these old files once more.

Life updates! I'm applying for graduate school once more, this time with a focus on public health. I hate this ritual of putting all of my self-worth in little application baskets for committees to stomp on, so ugh. I'm still working in mental health and homelessness, and it's still an emotional draining, sometimes rewarding, sometime soul crushing job. I have enough weird work stories to get me through the next few decades! My lovely girlfriend and I are close to celebrating four years together - she's taking me to meet her family for Thanksgiving and I'm taking her to France to meet my family for Christmas! And you all can thank her - she is always absolutely delighted when I write fanfiction (despite not reading it) and often encourages me to write. Things with my family are quite rough right now - my little brother is estranged from the family and is turning into a person I'm not sure I like, which is absolutely heartbreaking. I love him because he's my brother, but he's such a little shit. Hoping that turns around sooner rather than later, but this another part of adulthood I'm not fond of - I thought my sibling would be my ally against the world forever, and now he's almost a stranger.

I've missed you all, and am so grateful you are all still there reading this story. Please review, and feel free to send me fic recs - always a good way to make me write! Also a reminder to lia . a . karas - you had the 3000th review! That comes with the chance to send me a few prompts for a one shot. If I don't have any from this reader by the time the next chapter goes up, I'll open it up to everyone to say thank you for reviewing! See you next time, and happy holidays!