Thank you Ed, Hippiechick, hand3 and Lil. Reviews never fail to make me happy! SaraC, glad to see you're still reading. I read a few of your stories (told you I click on reviewers' profiles) and I liked them a lot. Give me a few days and you'll get real reviews on them ;)
Here's a question for everyone: should I get anymore in depth with Callah or leave her as she is? Not the most multifaceted character but this story was never about her, so I'm a bit conflicted as to whether I want to pull in any of her issues beyond Snape. Decisions, decisions…
Enjoy this next chapter, which is lovingly dedicated to my computer. I went back into my old files and realized how grateful I am that some things will forever remain between me and him alone!
--Aimes
Albus Dumbledore entered and stood near the hearth. On the sofa sat Professors Sprout, Sinistra, and Grubbly-Plank. Professor Flitwick perched on the arm of the couch, next to Sprout, sipping a cup of tea. McGonagall sat in an armchair primly, legs crossed at the ankles, spine ramrod straight. Adjacent to her in the armchair's match, Remus relaxed comfortably. Callah sat in front of Hermione on the floor, facing the hearth from across the coffee table, while Snape leaned against the doorframe behind them. Hermione curled her legs beneath her and waited for Albus to begin.
He simply waited. Maybe he's communicating telepathically with everyone but me. Hagrid, Molly, Arthur and Bill Weasley, and Tonks burst into the room. Tonks knocked over a vase and everyone sighed. Or maybe he was waiting for people. Way to be a smart kid, Mya. Such rational thoughts you have. Hagrid straggled in moments later.
"Well, my dear friends, it seems we have reached a critical point in this war. Hogwarts has been sacrificed. Not for long however, no, no. We shall begin planning an offensive immediately. Callah and Miss Granger shall be in charge of it. Callah has the wisdom of experience and Miss Granger has recently shown an aptitude for this sort of work. You two shall remain here along with Remus. This will be our meeting point. The rest of us will split up and continue on our separate projects. Hagrid, Tonks, Arthur, we shall rally the troops. Molly, please contact the other magical creatures who have agreed to assist us.
"Within the hour, I expect a report from the Aurors from you, Kingsley, a report from the giants from Hagrid, and a ministry update, Arthur. We shall all return here to receive the reports. Remus, Severus, please come with me, we have something to discuss. Thank you." Albus left swiftly and everyone snapped into action. Me? Plan an offensive? Is he mad? Of course he's mad, he's Dumbledore. This is fucking fantastic. 'Here you go, Hermione, the lives of our ragtag army and the morale of our cause rest on you. Good luck, kiddo.' …The magical world is officially screwed.
Callah stood and pulled Hermione to her feet. "We're going to need my laptop. A tactical incursion of this scale's gonna need simulations." Then again, maybe we'll make it.
"Have you done this before?" Hermione asked nervously.
"Sure. I'm a spy, remember? I've never planned anything on this scale, but I've been trained to do it if I need to…we'll be fine," she assured Hermione. "Think of it as a mental exercise…a strategic thing. Try not to remember that they're real people, it'll make it easier."
"Um, Ron's better at this sort of thing, you know. Chess and all. Maybe he should be doing this?" Hermione clawed for a way out.
"We don't need a strategist, hon, that's why I'm here. What we need is someone versed in all the possibilities: knowledgeable enough to tell me what kind of magic they'll use, curses and all, and creative enough to predict possible new weapons they've come up with. Now stop stalling and let's go."
"I'm not stalling…I'm just…stalling. Okay, yeah. Right. Let's go then," Hermione said miserably.
"Cheer up, hon. You'll be fine. I've done this before, and we'll get Severus to help. I think between the three of us we can get it together."
Or we'll cause the deaths of most of the wizarding world. Shit, shit, shit. Now would be a good time to take up smoking. Or drinking. Or both. Yeah, both.
For the rest of the afternoon, Callah and Hermione sat in the kitchen and took stock of their resources, stopping only to take notes on the reports from Arthur Weasley, Hagrid, and Tonks. Using what they had learned, the women began to let a plan take shape.
Several hours later, they were exhausted. Hermione slumped against the kitchen table as Callah growled.
"We've got shit. Have you noticed that?"
"Our best bet is to get in as quietly as possible and take them on in a straight out confrontation. We need to use all our forces, so quietly eliminating till we get to Voldemort is out, right? But we can't launch a large scale offensive or we'll lose a lot of people."
"That about covers it. Which leaves us with the problem of making sure they're all together in roughly the same place at the same time. I think Severus can help with that. That only leaves us with how we're going to get in."
"Dunno," Hermione admitted. "Knock?" Brilliant idea, Mya. You're an idiot.
Callah was quiet for a moment.
"D'you know? That just might work."
What might work? She's got to be kidding.
"What might work?"
"Knocking. If the giants express interest in joining with Voldemort…we can just knock. That's our in."
"That's insane," Hermione protested.
"This entire war is insane," Callah countered. "Abandoning Hogwarts was insane, not hunting down that son of a bitch and exorcising him or whatever was insane, having two people instead of an entire team plan the incursion is insane; sanity is not something we're endowed with much of. Might as well stick with the trend."
Hermione pondered it. She's got a point, you know.
"It's late, Callah. We should sleep on it and talk to Professor Snape tomorrow. It'll still take us weeks to work out the details."
Callah sighed. "You're probably right. I'm beat." She stood and shut down her laptop. "Goodnight, 'Mione."
"Goodnight, Callah. I'm going to have some hot chocolate before I turn in. Sleep well." Callah smiled and proceeded upstairs, yawning.
Hermione poured herself a glass of Chenin Blanc (apparently known in some circles as hot chocolate) and went outside. The night was calm and balmy and she sat on the patio in the courtyard staring out into nothingness. So he's alive. Of course I expected him to be, but still. He doesn't frighten me, no more than he ever did. Why did you stay to see him, Mya? What possessed you? You'll get your chance with him…
Dayrin Lestrange…
"Penny for your thoughts?" came the gentle voice, startling Hermione out of her reverie.
"They're not worth that much," she replied lightly, trying to banish the heaviness of her heart.
"Then share them for free," Remus challenged. He sat next to her, setting his own glass of wine next to hers. He hesitated a moment, then touched her hand gently. Hermione slipped her fingers into his, intertwining them, not looking at him. The patio ended into a large grassy lawn which in turn ended at the edge of the cliff, looking out over the sea. Hermione and Remus sat like this for a moment: hands entwined, quiet, contemplative.
What are you doing, Mya? Idiot alert, danger, danger! Release him right this instant and go inside. Go to sleep. Take a cold shower. Shoot yourself.
Hermione ignored her inner voice and instead rested her head on his shoulder.
"I saw him," she said softly.
"I know. You were the last to arrive…why?" he asked gently.
"I don't know. I just had to. I don't know," she repeated.
His thumb began stroking the back of her hand, sending shivers down her spine. "I understand," he whispered.
"Really? Feel free to explain it to me, then," she replied wryly.
"You had to see him in a situation where you were equals, where you were as strong as he," he explained simply.
"As in he's not beating me. Yeah, I suppose you're right, actually," she admitted. "Remus, I…" Shut up! Don't say it! SHUT UP!!!
"Yes?" he asked, trying to hide the note of wistfulness.
"I need to go to sleep," she rushed, stumbling over her words. Hermione stood abruptly and prepared to leave. Something stopped her even as her mind screamed for her to get out of the situation. Hermione turned to him and smiled.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice soft and sweet. "You've always understood." She leaned down and kissed him feather light on the lips. Remus felt his body react, urging him to deepen the kiss.
She was gone before he opened his eyes.
Remus sighed and let himself fall backwards onto the patio. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he asked the night.
Hermione lay in bed, mentally running in circles. You're an idiot. Why did you do that? Why do you want to do that again? Because he's gorgeous. Because sparks run through you when he touches you. Hell, sparks run through you when he LOOKS at you! You're fucking screwed.
"Just shag him already, and call it a day, sweetheart. When you two look at each other the room heats about fifteen degrees," Callah called sleepily from the other bed.
"Sorry," Hermione said sheepishly. Go to bed; try not to think about it. If he wants to deal with it you can discuss this with him later. As you snog him senseless.
Oh gods.