Disclaimer: Blah blah blah, doesn't belong to me, blah blah, don't sue me, blah blah blah, no money, blah blah, rated R.

************************************

I'm gonna fight 'em off
A seven nation army couldn't hold me back
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right behind my back
And I'm talking to myself at night
Because I can't forget
Back and forth through my mind
Behind a cigarette
And the message coming from my eyes
Says leave it alone

~ From the song, "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes

*****************************************

Chapter 4: Army

"Severus, no . . . you can't be seriously thinking of doing this. It's far too dangerous." Hermione folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair, a mutinous expression on her face.

She noticed that her husband had calmed down somewhat, but there was still a high colour to his cheekbones. If Hermione hadn't been so frightened for him, she would have been grinning.

After all, it wasn't every day that a witch and wizard Apparated naked in the middle of your living room. She was quite certain that she'd never hear the end of it.

"I have no choice, Hermione," answered Severus, breaking her train of thought. "At this point, we don't know whom we can trust and I must find out what kind of magic was aimed against the future monarch. It's the first step in figuring out who did this."

"Maybe it was just a jealous boyfriend," Draco said hopefully. "I get that all the time." Ginny looked at him archly and he shrugged without apology. "Well, I do."

Severus curled his lip at Draco. "Having just seen you naked, that astounds me," he said acidly. Draco gave him an outraged look. "And you're a fool if you think it's a jealous boyfriend," the Potions Master continued. "Every instinct tells me this is about the monarchy, and not some personal grudge. The timing isn't a coincidence. Somebody wanted to strike before you are crowned."

His grim expression punctuated his words.

Presently, the latter day Adam and Eve were seated on the sofa, their hands curled around tumblers of whiskey, which Severus had grudgingly poured for them. Draco noticed Ginny's hands were shaking and snaked a comforting arm around her shoulders to pull her close.

After their dramatic entrance, Hermione had had the presence of mind to quickly reach over for her wand, but not before giving Draco's nude form a rather indiscreet once over as she quickly conjured a loose set of robes for the two of them. Despite his surprise at the Apparating couple, Severus had raised an inquiring eyebrow at her as she'd blushed.

"I'll grill you about that later," his eyes had said.

Once he got over his initial shock, Severus had stayed silent long enough for Draco to explain what had happened that evening. By the time his nephew had finished his story, the Potions Master's countenance had turned rather murderous before he quietly told them of his immediate plan for dealing with the situation.

And for once, Hermione felt extreme consternation that he was such a Man of Action.

She interrupted with her opinion once again. "Severus, be reasonable. You can't go there alone."

"We don't have time to bring anybody else in," he snapped impatiently. "You know as well as I do that time is wasting and if we wait too long, all traces of magic around the waterfall will be gone. I must go now, while the magic lingers and can be analyzed. We must know what we're dealing with here."

"I'll go with you," said Draco firmly.

"No!" barked Snape. "It's too risky! You must stay out of sight until we know what we're facing. Somebody was clever enough to find you, even though you say you told nobody of your plans. We're obviously not dealing with an ordinary assassin here. Besides, he'll be expecting the place to be crawling with Aurors soon. Whoever did this is long gone by now."

"Who said it was a man?" Ginny asked in a quiet voice.

All heads turned to her as she sat up straight under their appraisal. "I mean, isn't a woman just as capable of doing this as a man?" she asked.

"Indeed," murmured Severus. "It could be anyone."

Hermione gave her husband a pleading look. "At the very least, take an Ocularis Nox potion before you go. It's dark out there and you need to be able to see, in case the would-be assassin is still in the area."

Severus nodded at her. "I still have some in my stores, left over from the war. I believe the batch is still good. That potion goes bad after six months, you know."

"I know," said Hermione, without missing a beat. Severus allowed himself a slight smile. It was an exchange of words that was comforting in its familiarity.

He took a deep breath. "So it's settled then. I must depart at once."

"Don't forget to retrieve my wand," reminded Ginny. "I didn't have time to grab it. Hopefully, it's still on the bed." Her cheeks turned pink as she said this.

Severus nodded briefly to Draco and Ginny before taking his leave. Hermione sighed and stood up.

"I'll have a room prepared for you both. Seeing as how you popped in here starkers, I take it that one room will suffice?" Ginny blushed with an even deeper shade of pink and Hermione let out her first grin of the evening.

"You didn't have perfect scores on your N.E.W.T's for nothing, you clever girl, although I hated you for it at the time," remarked Draco cheerfully. "One room will be just fine."

Hermione gave Ginny a hug and pecked Draco on the cheek. "I'm going to help Severus prepare for his trip," she said. "I might as well be useful as I know I won't be able to sleep a wink until he's back home safely."

"You mean, you're going to fuss at him," said Draco, with a knowing smirk.

"So what if I am? He must promise me that he'll Apparate directly home at the first sign of trouble. The house is heavily warded, although, in hindsight, it was fortunate that Severus kept them open for you. What if you'd had to Apparate to the Burrow instead?"

"Lord!" exclaimed Ginny. "It doesn't bear thinking about. And Draco would have been lucky to come out of it with his . . . erm . . . head intact. The twins have a deadly aim with their wands."

"My head, eh?" Draco raised an amused eyebrow. "And then I would have had to string them up for treason, so a lot of good that would have done," he said arrogantly. "Thankfully, it all turned out alright. We may have been in dishabille, but we made it out safely."

He looked well pleased with himself.

Hermione smiled at them as she murmured her goodnight, leaving them alone.

Draco immediately gave Ginny a concerned glance. Her bright red hair, which always seemed so sunny, was currently in startling contrast to her pale face and her dark soulful eyes were very guarded at the moment. Even her freckles seemed to be hiding.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "You've barely stopped shaking."

"I suppose I'm still in shock. One minute I'm having the most delicious moment of my life and the next I'm skidding naked across my old Potion Master's floor. I don't think I'll ever forget the look on his face."

A snicker escaped before she could stop it.

"That's more like it," thought Draco.

He laughed. "Yes, it's worth remembering, isn't it? If I didn't know better I'd say they were both overwhelmed by my beauty." Ginny rolled her eyes as he reached over and took the tumbler out of her hands and set it on an end table. He pulled her fingers to his lips. "I'm sorry it turned out this way, Gin," he murmured. "I had so much more planned for us." He slid her forefinger into his warm mouth and nipped gently.

Ginny's breathing hitched for a moment. "Well, hold that thought," she said huskily. "I hope to continue the night's activities sometime soon, when things calm down. Only next time, we do it in a safe place."

He leaned over and gave her a brief, sweet kiss. "Isn't that what the Muggles call, 'safe sex'?" he asked playfully.

"No . . . I think that's something else."

"Oh."

He stared intently at the fire before Ginny broke the silence.

"Draco, what are you going to do? It's obvious you have dangerous enemies out there."

He looked at her as if he was amazed that she even asked the question. "Why, I'll do what any self-respecting Prince would do under the circumstances," he retorted.

"And that would be?"

The expression on Draco's face darkened, before he answered.

"I must build an army," he said fiercely. "One that is loyal only to me."

The harshness of his tone caused her to turn and study him. His jaw was set mulishly and his eyes were as hard as diamonds. He stood suddenly, his posture erect as he was silhouetted against the fire and his face took on a deep, focused look. Ginny noticed that he was firmly tapping his wand against his palm.

He positively radiated power and for a fleeting moment, she felt completely safe.

And she knew that look from The Final Battle: He was channeling his Slytherin Warrior and woe to anyone who got in his way. If Ginny hadn't been so utterly exhausted she would have been extremely turned on.

Then Draco completely broke the mood with his next comments.

"I'll build a huge army . . . one with really spiffing uniforms," he murmured. "And of course, Severus will be my general. Don't you think he'd look smashing in feather plumes? Hermione would be all over him like ham on a sandwich."

Ginny tossed her head in exasperation, shooting him a disapproving look.

"I know what you're trying to do and it won't work," she said. "You can't protect me from the reality of your situation, so don't try to make light of it, Draco Malfoy. Besides, Snape would never agree to feathers . . . he'd kill you himself first."

Draco gave her a mock scowl. "Party-pooper."

She stood up wearily. "I can't think about this anymore tonight. I'm going to bed, Draco."

"You go ahead, sweetness. I'm too wound up right now, but I'll join you soon."

She moved towards him and Draco met her halfway, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. She was rigid for a moment before relaxing and melting against him. He buried his face in her hair.

"It will be all right in the end," he said quietly in her ear. "You'll see."

"I'm just so scared for you," she whispered. "For us."

He folded her tighter in his arms. "I know, my love."

He could think of no words to comfort her, so he just held her.

***********************************

Jacob Sternbucket was running late, but he really couldn't bring himself to care very much. His wife Dorcas was expecting him home at any time, but this only served to slow his movements down even further.

He really didn't want to go home.

He was a very slight man, some would even say he was rather awkward-looking, but he moved with a surprising grace around the shelves of his apothecary. Examining his stores, he paused every now and then to scratch his quill on a parchment as he moved from shelf to shelf, checking his inventory.

He may have been funny looking, but a brilliant mind lurked behind that unobtrusive body. Or so his mother used to tell anybody who would listen. Perhaps that was why he grew up with absolutely no friends.

Looking around Hogsmeade's Slurp & Gibbons Apothecary, he let out a small sigh as he surveyed the neat and tidy shelves filled with potions.

He wasn't a Potions Master, by any means, but he did know his way around a lab.

His wife's nagging voice kept a shrill commentary running through his head and he tried to ignore it. He really should be Apparating back home, but he just couldn't face her this soon after their latest row. She'd been stomping around the house all morning, in a foul temper and although none of it was his fault, she still managed to take it out on him anyway.

It was so bloody unfair.

After all, it was for her sake that he'd been working long, extra hours in the lab, trying his hand with different potion ingredients in a futile attempt to solve the medical problems that caused her infertility and his unending misery. They'd consulted with various Healers and Potions Masters, all of whom had said there was nothing that could be done about it. Dorcas had been inconsolable.

"Brilliant or not, mum," he thought to himself. "I'm an utter failure."

Jacob finished his inventory, leaving the parchment on an old worn desk that was wedged into the back storeroom. The urge to get thoroughly pissed was foremost on his mind as he made his way out of the apothecary to shut the front door, locking it with a wave of his wand. He sluggishly made his way down the road to The Three Broomsticks, his steps deliberately slow and tentative.

Once he found himself inside the pub, he squinted at the lighting that illuminated the interior of the cheery establishment. Desperately wanting a drink, he quickly made his way to the bar, hopping up on a stool. He pulled out a copy of the morning's Daily Prophet from his robe pocket and caught the eye of Madam Rosmerta.

"Your usual?" Rosmerta asked, as she took a swipe at the bar with a wet cloth. Jacob nodded curtly. Looking around, he noticed an ancient man, sitting to his left, a mug of dark ale clenched firmly in his gnarled hand. The old man tipped his head in greeting.

"I take it you come here often, young man," he said gruffly.

Jacob only grunted, not really wanting any company at the moment. The old man didn't seem to notice as he extended his hand.

"Aloysius Hamhock, at your service," he said by way of introduction. "And you are?"

"My name is Jacob Sternbucket," the younger man answered dully. "I'm better known as Jacob the Apothecary."

"Ah yes! You're the fellow who runs the Slurp & Gibbons. I thought I recognized you." Aloysius beamed at him in a friendly fashion.

Jacob suppressed a sigh. He could see that he wasn't going to get any peace this evening.

The old man took a deep swig of his ale, his white hair and beard obscuring most of his face as he contemplated Jacob. A pair of deep set dark eyes looked penetratingly at him and the younger man squirmed in discomfort.

"If you don't mind my saying, you look decidedly unhappy, Jacob the Apothecary," Aloysius commented. "Trouble at home?"

Jacob could feel the anger building in him . . . the nerve of the old man! He answered him slowly in an effort to put a polite spin on his response.

"I don't see that it's any of your business, sir," he said, barely hiding his irritation.

The old man shook his head. "I'm sorry, my boy. I know that it's none of my concern, it's just that you looked so sad. Sometimes it helps to talk about these things, even if it's to a stranger. My wife died ten years ago and to be quite honest, it's been the most peaceful ten years I've had since childhood."

Jacob was surprised that the old man seemed to know just where his unhappiness lay. He vainly resisted the urge to stay silent and instead, found himself opening up to this stranger.

"What can I say, Al?" he murmured finally. "It all just seems so pointless, doesn't it? You do everything right, you find a nice girl and settle down and then it all goes to hell in a handcart. I should be happy, after all, the country is at peace and I'm making a good living, yet I feel like I have nothing to look forward to."

"So your wife doesn't understand you, eh? What seems to be the problem?"

It was all that Aloysius needed to ask before the floodgates of Jacob's misery opened up and he found himself complaining to the old man about the circumstances of his life. Aloysius clucked at him in sympathy, nodding at the right times and he seemed genuinely interested in Jacob's diatribe.

They spoke for another half-hour, as Jacob downed several whiskeys in that short period of time, pouring out his heart to the old man. To his credit, Aloysius paid for all his drinks and by the end of it, Jacob was feeling very loose and surly.

The younger man paused to glance at his copy of The Daily Prophet. "And to make matters worse," he snarled, "The political situation in this country is deteriorating rapidly, if you ask me. Oh, I suppose things had to change after The War, but why we need a monarchy is beyond me. And of all people!"

He looked at Draco Malfoy's picture on the front page and poked at it savagely.

"I just hate that he seems to always get what he wants," he said harshly.

"Do you know Draco Malfoy personally?" Aloysius asked with curiosity.

From somewhere inside of Jacob the anger and hatred welled up and it was surprising in its intensity. "No, but I know all about him," the Apothecary sneered. "He's led a privileged life and everything has been handed to him since birth. He's never had to work for anything in his life, as far as I can see. He does one clever little thing to help defeat the Dark Lord and next thing you know the Ministry is going to make him a king! It's a travesty, I tell you! And he's going to corrupt that nice Weasley girl, I'm sure."

He couldn't hide the blatant jealousy in his voice.

Aloysius looked intently in his ale before answering in a low voice. "Well, between you and me, Jake, I have to agree with you. A monarchy is a poor form of government in this day and age and Draco Malfoy is a poor choice to run this country." The old man shifted his eyes furtively. "And I've got it on good authority that he's a sniveling, ferret-faced brat."

"Hear, hear!" muttered Jacob, lifting his glass to his new friend, Al.

They drank another round before Jacob reluctantly admitted that it was time to leave. Aloysius encouraged him and gave a last little bit of advice before he settled his tab and turned to the young man.

"I have to go myself, Jake," he said with affection. "But I'll be here tomorrow night if you want company. I think you're a nice bloke. And a smart one, too."

Jacob the Apothecary was ridiculously flattered. He nodded his good-byes as the old man slowly made his way to the door.

Had Jacob immediately followed behind him, he would have been startled to see the old man's pace quicken as he spryly made his way down the road to an area behind The Shrieking Shack. Once Aloysius was sure that he hadn't been followed or observed, his form suddenly shifted and in his place stood a tall, apple-cheeked young man with brilliant blue eyes.

"Another potential recruit for The Cause," he muttered happily to himself, before he Disapparated.

********************************************

Severus Snape was chilled to the bone as he moved closer to the fire in Albus Dumbledore's office. It didn't seem to matter what time of the year it was . . . the old, draughty castle still managed to remain brisk, despite all the warming spells and fireplaces that magic could conjure.

He was thankful that he was now only an occasional visitor to the school. The fourth happiest day of his life was the day he'd tendered his resignation to the Headmaster, twenty-four hours after Hermione had agreed to marry him.

His other three happiest days had involved Hermione . . . and a soft bed.

Albus shook him out of his rumination by handing him a steaming cup of tea.

"I do hope you're not planning on keeping me in suspense much longer, Severus."

"I'm trying to warm up, thank you very much," said the younger man. He'd already briefly visited with Hermione through the Floo network, telling her he was safe and that he'd be coming home soon. Giving a mental command, he eyed the flames, causing them to roar even higher within the fireplace.

The Headmaster shot him an envious look. "You make me wish I could do wandless magic, my boy. It certainly would come in handy when my rheumatism is acting up."

"You could do it if you wanted to," answered Severus, gruffly. "You're just too stubborn."

Albus took a deep sip of his tea. "Old-fashioned would be more like it," he murmured. "There's nothing like the power of pointing a wand at something before casting a spell. I'm very attached to my wand, you know. Both of them," he chuckled.

Severus did not grin at the feeble joke, only giving Dumbledore a wordless nod as he stared absently into the fire.

"So, what took you away from your new wife at this late hour?" the Headmaster asked gently. "I have to say that I was most surprised to hear from you."

Severus pulled out a very small object from his robe pocket, setting it on the stone floor in front of the fireplace. With a muttered word, the object enlarged.

"Do you recognize this, Albus?"

"Oh, indeed," answered the Headmaster. "That's Hermione's Magic Particle Spectometer. A brilliant invention, if I may say. However, I was hoping that it would stay in retirement with you for a while longer."

"So was I. Unfortunately, I've had occasion to use it within the last hour. I don't have to tell you that what I'm about to say goes no further than this room?"

"Of course not. Tell me everything."

Severus began his story by telling Dumbledore about the attack on the future Prince of Avalon and his visit to the scene of the crime only minutes earlier.

"It was most peculiar, Headmaster," said Severus. "Even though the spell had been cast at least a half hour previously, the air still resonated with the unknown energy. It was extremely powerful and I could literally feel the magic darting between the trees. When I used the Spectometer, the readings were completely off the parchments. I just can't figure it out. The good news is that Hermione, in her usual compulsive manner, has had just about every spell she could think of analyzed and charted as she was working on this invention. If there's a similar spell out there, we'll find it."

Albus peered at the Spectometer. It consisted of a bluish crystal ball that was as large as a medium sized pumpkin. The crystal was hollow in the inside and the interior of was a complete vacuum, allowing magic to flow unimpeded through its centre. The purpose was to conduct magical energy and break it down to its elemental components, so that it could be studied and analyzed.

It was extremely controversial because it broke the unspoken taboo against mixing Muggle and Magical Science. In fact, most wizards were not even remotely interested in where magic came from, or why some folks were inherently magical and others weren't. That's just the way things were. However, the device had been crucial in the fight against Voldemort, so most wizards were willing to forgive Hermione her break with tradition.

A piece of parchment was attached to the base of the Spectometer and Severus pulled it off, handing it to the Headmaster.

"These are the last readings I took, but they're identical to all the other readings taken within the last hour. It appears that the spell had the components of the Avada Kedavra, but Malfoy mentioned that the magic was red and not green, as one would expect. You'll notice that this energy here (he pointed to some squiggly lines on the parchment), is something new . . . something I've never seen before. It seems to have altered the Avada Kedavra, but I don't understand how. It's got something to do with time, though. I'm sure of it."

Suddenly Albus Dumbledore's face turned as white as his beard and his spindly legs began to shudder. Concerned, Severus led him over to a chair, curious as to what had affected the Headmaster so.

"There's no need to do an analysis," said Albus. "I know very well what spell was cast on young Malfoy."

His pale eyes were bleak as he looked at Severus. "I haven't seen that spell since the war with Grindelwald. It was supposed to be buried within the Department of Secrets at the Ministry, but apparently somebody has found it. This is trouble, Severus. Big trouble."

"What is it?"

"Have you ever heard of an Antequam Eructo?"

Severus frowned and shook his head.

"I'm not surprised," said Dumbledore. "The knowledge of its existence has been hidden for many years."

He lifted his wand in a shaky hand and looked at it thoughtfully before he ventured an explanation. "It's a spell that is cast on the intended victim without his or her knowledge and it has absolutely no effect at the moment that it is cast. However, at some point later on, depending how the spell is uttered, the Killing Curse is released. By that time, the person who cast the spell is long gone."

Severus looked at him in disbelief. "Are you saying that there is a delay between the time the spell is cast and when it is released?"

"I'm afraid so, my boy. Grindelwald's Minister of Propaganda designed it over sixty years ago. There were many, many successful assassinations because of it. The spell was eventually contained and all those on the losing side who knew of it were either executed or sent to Azkeban. The irony is that Miss Weasley and Mr. Malfoy were completely alone at the time they were attacked. If Mr. Malfoy had not moved suddenly when he did, he would most assuredly be dead. As it is, it appears that he was just very lucky."

Snape's mind was reeling with the implications.

"It is the ultimate terrorist weapon, as it can also be adapted for Explosion Spells," the Headmaster added quietly. "And there is no defense for it at this time."

"So this means that an assassin can cast this spell and then be kilometres away from the scene when it takes effect?" Severus' voice was incredulous.

The Headmaster nodded. "And there's the rub . . . it takes a keen sense of concentration to cast the spell because it's extremely difficult to execute and it's very complicated. And what's more, if it is done incorrectly, it backfires, instantly killing the person who casts it. That is why it is known for being the spell of choice for assassins who are passionate about a political or religious cause." He paused for a few seconds before he murmured; "Only a fanatic would dare to cast such a spell."

Snape whistled. "Hex me sideways!" he exclaimed.

"Indeed."

"It appears that Lord Malfoy will have to stay out of sight until we can come up with a counter-spell," continued Dumbledore. "Back in my day, we didn't have this nifty Spectometer to help invent spells and potions, so I'm hoping that your wife will be able to come up with something that will keep the future Prince of Avalon safe. In the meantime, we're going to have to find a hiding place for him."

"Oh, I have just the place to keep him safe," said Severus thoughtfully. "And I know just the person to insure his safety."

Albus raised a fluffy white eyebrow.

"It appears that my nephew is in need of a bodyguard."

"Oh my . . . and why do I know what's coming?" The Headmaster braced himself.

"Only Harry Potter will do," Severus answered.

Albus Dumbledore started shaking with mirth and pretty soon, a full-blown gleeful howl was issuing from his throat. "Oh that's wonderful!" he wheezed. "Just wonderful! I'm not sure if Draco will be any safer with Mr. Potter, though. They just might kill each other first."

"Don't laugh, Albus. It's the only way. Unfortunately, Harry Potter is the best Auror at the Ministry and nobody can dodge and counter a Dark Spell like Potter," said Severus firmly.

"Young Malfoy will not be happy, to say the least."

The Potions Master snorted. "Are you asking me if I care? Because I don't."

"And what if Mr. Potter refuses?" asked Dumbledore.

It was Severus' turn to raise an eyebrow. "Surely you jest."

"Of course," murmured the Headmaster. "What was I thinking? Mr. Potter is all about duty and honor, is he not? And if I may suggest . . . you might want to remove Lord Malfoy's wand before you tell him that he's going to have to spend an unknown amount of time in the company of Mr. Potter."

Nodding mutely, the Potions Master rose from his chair.

"And it would be best if you remove all breakable items from the room," Dumbledore added.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in weary resignation.

Oh bloody hell.

To be continued . . .

******************************************

Author's Notes: Both the Ocularis Nox and Antequam Eructo are products of my own imagination: Occularis Nox is a night vision potion and Antequam Eructo is loosely translated as meaning "cast before time" . . . I don't speak or conjugate Latin, so I'm sure the tenses and perhaps the genders are off, but oh well. If there are any "Latinites" (or is it "Latinics"?) out there, you might do me a favor and e-mail me with any corrections, heh.

This was obviously a "set-up" chapter. Draco is in for it now!

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, I so appreciate it. And once again, my Beta Elizabeth was most helpful. Thanks E!