Chapter Sixty-Four: Tree Falls in a Forest

"Sevvy!"

"Why the hell do you yet persist in calling me by that ridiculous name, Cassandra?" Snape bellowed, rubbing his eyebrows as if trying to get them to come off. "Has it never occurred to you that some people enjoy sleep at three in the morning, as opposed to willful disordering of traffic markers in an illegal car for fun? Simply because you've given up liquor doesn't mean the rest of us can't get good and hung!"

"First of all, it's three in the afternoon, second, you could just take a potion for hangover, and third, Draco an' I found Hermione." Severus continued to rant, ignoring Cass' calm announcement.

"If you're going to interrupt me with loudness and absurd nicknames, you could at least have something important for an excuse –you what?!"

"Yeah, you'd best change out of those pajamas. See you in five minutes." Cass slammed the door, turned around, and began to laugh her lycanthropic American head off. That was so satisfying! Just as the guffaws melted into giggles, she looked up and saw a frowning face dark with five o' clock shadow and impatience. "Oh…hi, dear."

"Do I really want to know where you were?" John asked, mixing Wolfish and human speech horribly as he scowled. Cass understood perfectly and smiled coquettishly.

"Finding Hermione with Draco." She kissed her husband's cheek, ignoring his unkemptness. "We just loved the CD you burned."

A peculiarity of the Wolfish language is that while many of its' phrases, common usages, and terms translate readily into somewhat long-winded English, there are others which all speakers, native or taught, agree are unexplainable. Such a type of phrase is what ordinary humans call a kiss. Wolves, being pack animals, commonly lick each other in affection or with other such emotion, and certain types of licking vocabulary manifest with humanoid speakers such as werewolves as kisses. Suffice it to say, the semilupine couple had quite the conversation at this point, but don't expect we editors to even begin translating it. The only two people who could get all giggly whenever such phrases are mentioned, immediately before resuming said conversation. It's positively sickening sometimes.

"Draco's with her at Godric's Hollow now. We've got to get going."

"Cassie, there's a battle going on in just a little while. Voldemort's going to attack, and we've been preparing a rebuttal force all morning." Despite the fact that this was quite a mouthful for John, Cass merely shrugged at it.

"So?"

"So! They want someone to run the Machine for artillery backup. I can't do it without you."

"Crap. Get Mel down here. I can give her instructions on the pre-loaded commands and maybe that'll hold it." John turned to go, but not before kissing his beloved once more. Cass ran a hand through his hair and held him close a second. "I do love you, you know that?"

John's arms went slack even as she said it, and before she could even look up properly, his eyes had gone blank and the unearthly voice started:

"THE PRICELESS SECOND IS LOST THIS DAY. NONE LOOK, FOR NONE KNOW WHERE, NOR EVEN TO LOOK. GUARD WELL THAT WHICH WAS LOST, FOR NONE SHALL KNOW THE WOUND UNTIL THE HEIRS COME INTO THEIR LEGACY."

"Holy fuck." Cass' eyes were wide as John came back to himself.

"It happened again, didn't it? What did I say?"

"Something about lost seconds and heirs and legacy. What won't we know to look for?" Cass frowned, thinking hard, until suddenly she gasped. "The priceless second –second identity! Mel's family doesn't know to look for her, because they think she's dead. We should guard Hermione well because if Mel's cover's blown, those damn Catesbys will try to hunt us all down. And they will, regardless, but it won't happen until those three heirs get their legacy…who the hell are they supposed to be?"

"Narcissa, Draco, and you." John remarked unemotionally. "Lucius Malfoy was killed half an hour ago. Tonks confirmed it."

"What?"

"The Death Eaters had gathered outside of Godric's Hollow for a revel before they attacked Hogsmeade. Lucius turned against his master and refused to kill the Muggles they had captured. Voldemort killed him and sent his body onto a heap of dead with a wandless hex. That amplified wand Severus warned us about is working –that's why we need the Machine."

"John, I've got to tell Draco! He's back there guarding Hermione, we sent Narcissa to St. Mungo's, he's going to be so- -right when his dad turned back-"

"Cassie, Draco was the one who called Tonks and the other Aurors to spy on the revel. He saw. He knows."

"But why was he…?"

"I'd imagine he heard the noise or something and went to make sure they didn't come any closer to the house where she's hidden. Where exactly is she?"

"The one with the ugly red tree in front. Where was the revel?" John thought quickly. Having studied and drawn maps of the area, he knew it perfectly by heart in his head.

"A quarter-mile or so. Tonks says that they've moved on, but Draco wasn't with her party. I'd say he's still guarding at the Redtree House."

"I'm ready. Where's your car?" Severus was indeed ready, if not dressed precisely the way one would expect. They started out of the room even as Cass began giving commands.

"Right outside on the lawn. John, please draw up a map so we can avoid driving over the revel site. There's paper and stuff under the passenger seat. Sevvy, your shoes are on the wrong feet and your shirt's backwards. I'm going to give orders to Ginny and Mel; I will be right with you."

Ten minutes later, Dingo was in the air. It would be nearly twenty years before Cass knew how wrong she had gotten the prophecy.

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"Draco?"

"You're awake!"

"Yes…" Hermione looked around, confused, but still too tired to lift her head more than a few inches. "I don't mean to be rude, but…where are we?"

"We're…you don't remember?"

"Remember what?" Hermione looked for her wand and saw her wrist. There was a corkscrewing, angry scar that went up and around her forearm from hand to near the elbow. "Good lord, what the hell-?"

"Hermione…you were kidnapped." Draco frowned and took the tired girl's hand in one of his. "Almost exactly ten months ago."

"Ten months? But that's impossible- …what day is it?"

"Wednesday."

"The date!"

"Oh. January sixteenth."

"It was March just a few hours ago!"

"No, it wasn't…Hermione, they must have kept you asleep somehow."

"No way. If I was asleep, I wouldn't be so…so tired…"

Draco looked around for something that would hold water, reasoning that it might help is friend to wake up. Instead, he discovered one of his mother's gin bottles, a half pot of stale coffee, and a Muggle child's backpack. He recognized that as his own, which he had demanded because it was in Slytherin colors and later forgotten about. Unzipping it, he discovered a mother lode of snacks, treats, drinks, and general junk food items –all Muggle.

Narcissa's personal private stash was so unusual and varied he laughed aloud before seizing something called a Snickers bar. It claimed to contain peanuts, which, he remembered from Yankish-foods classes, contained protein and were therefore nutritious. He also remembered Professor Cass's lecture on chocolate's being made from beans, which made it therefore a vegetable and therefore also a health food. Unfortunately, Draco had not quite grasped that she hadn't been serious.

"Hermione! Wake up!" Unwrapping an end of the confection, Draco waved it near her nose. "You've got to eat this. It'll wake you up."

"What on earth –is that a chocolate bar?"

"Yes, with-" he checked the label. "Caramel, peanuts and soft fluffy filling. Come on. It's good for you."

"Sugar is not either good for you. Rots your teeth."

"It's a vegetable!"

"What is?"

"Chocolate!"

"Draco, you sound like a woman with PMS. I'm not eating that."

"But aren't you hungry?" Draco waved the chocolate under her nose again. "I've got potato crisps, too, and a fat bag of gummi worms…" He checked the backpack again; reading the contents in what he hoped was a tempting voice. "Ring-Dings, Ho-Hos, Twinkies –you can't have them, they're dangerous- M&Ms, Chewy Spree, barbecue flavored potato crisps, salt and vinegar flavored potato crisps, a can of chocolate covered cashew nuts, Hershey kisses, gummi worms, gummi bears, cinnamon gummi bears, Wonka Runts and Nerds, whatever on earth those are –and three Diet Cokes." Hermione frowned.

"Why bother with diet soda after all that junk? And how on earth are Twinkies supposed to be dangerous?"

"They don't have the protective chocolate coating which keeps out the germs…" Draco smiled wryly. "Sis wasn't serious about that, was she?"

"Sis?"

"You know, Professor Cass."

"Oh, then you know." Hermione sighed with relief. "And you're …okay with that?"

"Her calling me 'little bro'? Of course. Please eat something. Look at your arm, you're barely a sack of bones."

"Alright, but I'm eating the cashew nuts. Those at least keep up the pretense of health." Two nuts, chewed haltingly, later, Hermione suddenly gasped.

"What is it?"

"I've missed the N.E.W.T.s!"

"Hermione, only you would care about that at a time like this," Draco sighed, checking out the window. He assumed the Death Eaters had cleared out from the revel that had ended his father's life, but he had no idea how close they were or when Cass would be back with Snape.

Right then it hit him.

His father wasn't coming back. Ever.

His mother was in St. Mungo's. He didn't know how she was, and she didn't know about her husband. He would have to tell her, if she made it.

The knock on the door downstairs made him draw his wand. He shushed Hermione, who was now trying to inspect her scarred arm confusedly, and went down, prepared for nearly anything. Needless to say, it was his godfather.

"How is she?" Severus asked. He looked like a little boy, and for the moment Draco was relieved. At least he had one bit of good news to tell.

"She's fine, Uncle."

It was more than clear Severus wanted to run up the stairs like a child on Christmas morning, but the dark-haired man touched his godson's shoulder instead.

"Draco, I'm sorry." The black eyes were nearly even with the blue by now.

"It's alright. Better go up, we should get her out of here."

Lucius had resisted Lord Voldemort. He had died, with more nobility than ever in his life, and been tossed onto a heap of common Muggle dead, whose lives had all been better than his. Dimly, Draco knew it was better this way. His father had finally freed himself before dying, and in death had earned back at least some of the honor he had lost. He would not stand trial, and in at least the hearts of those who knew him best was exonerated of everything. That was enough. Draco would mourn later. The time had come to finish what began almost sixty years ago.

Of course, the full extant of Lucius' final heroism would be revealed, at exactly the time when the misinterpretation of the prophecy was proved. But again, that would be quite some time later.

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