Without Question

By Tien Riu

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowlings. Depiction of characters, plotline and all related mistakes are mine. Warning: note that this story contains overtones of what is commonly known as slash, yaoi, shonen-ai (otherwise known as homosexual relationships).

Author's Notes, and response to reviews at end of chapter.

With thanks as always and ever to Ashe - ever-patient beta-reader.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Though It's Dark

"Ron?"

He was dreaming about spiders crawling towards him when, suddenly, he could hear Hermione calling his name.

Ron opened his eyes and wondered, briefly, why Hermione was in the boys' dormitory (and wasn't that reverse sexism the way girls could march right into their side of the tower but they couldn't do the same to them). Then he wondered why his bed was so uncomfortable.

"Ron? Can you hear me?"

He was lying on the ground. (Why am I sleeping on the ground?) There was a fire – it crackled in its little stone lined hole.

"Ron?"

"Leave him be, he's like this in the mornings." Harry said, "He needs a little time to switch on."

They were in a clearing surrounded by trees. Something chirped in the darkness.

"Where am I?" Ron demanded, "What are you doing here Hermione? And tell me that we aren't in the acrumantala infested Forbidden Forest -!"

But that was six hours ago and far from Hogwarts.

The box was tucked behind the fire place (such a simple hiding place). It felt like nothing to Severus' fingers - there was no powerful magic here. No wards against entry, nothing to charm it against theft or hide it from detection. There was no real need; until five hours ago, the box had been empty.

Tyche had created it that summer when the negotiations between their parents had first started. A wedding gift, she had said with her sardonic grin, a representation of their relationship and future together. He couldn't remember what his response had been - he hoped, with the hindsight of age and the embarrassment of memory that it had been intelligent and wise. (It had probably been trite and clichéd)

Severus gritted his teeth as he stared blindly at the cheap, unpolished and splintering wood. She had cast the unbreakable charms with their blood (for what they were worth, she had said with a roll of her eyes, let tradition hold it together when the charms failed to work).

It was still lined with velvet – still plush from lack of use. The potion bottle he'd found in it – afterwards – was long gone, broken pieces ground to dust. He'd dropped the time turner in there before Narcissa had arrived – she would have noticed anything warded or protected. (- and two families end in a bloodless bath -)

There were years when he did not think of Tyche at all.

Entire years.

Damn you Narcissa.

Albus had handed the 'turners to staff members at the beginning of the school year - passed them around as if they were candy rather than dangerous, prohibited tools.

But temptation had passed him by years ago; he lifted the hourglass from the box, absentmindedly wrapping the chain around his fingers.

His hands were shaking. Had she noticed? Before tonight he would have assumed such things beneath Narcissa - if not completely beyond her attention span; the lady of the manor would never have deemed to notice such small details in those around her.

How soon we forget the lessons branded into our skins. What is on the surface is never the complete truth.

The chain of the time turner slipped through his fingers. The solution to all the problems in my world; the antidote to any poison –

There was a brief whoosh and the fire turned green; the Headmaster's long beard rolled out over the logs and onto the flagstones - it was no warning and all the notice he received.

"Narcissa Malfoy has -" he stopped - of course Albus would know already, the floo monitors were in his office; he gripped his hand tightly, willing it to stop shaking (Gutless Hufflepuff - betrayed by my own limbs -), "She sent Draco to you."

"Ah." Albus said quietly, "I see."

(Do you? Then would you be so kind as to explain it to me, your hapless fool?)

"Hogsmeade has been attacked." Albus said as if he were talking of the weather, "I'm surprised you didn't feel it - the shaking was quite more than Rowena Ravenclaw's notes implied."

Severus didn't question how the Headmaster knew - he always did (How you do this and retain your sanity -), "I am closer to the foundations here. The effect was - muted." Severus responded - and wondered why he couldn't admit Narcissa Malfoy had managed to hex him to sleep (of all things!), "Narcissa knew - what would happen tonight. It might have been the reason why she agreed to come."

Sent to distract us? But no, that was paranoia speaking.

No need to speak of failure. It had not been too late when he had realised - it had already been too late. It was always, he suspected, too late. (Ten years, twenty - thirty - when does this chain of evidence and event end?) He gripped the time turner tight enough that it felt as if the glass would shatter.

Albus hummed thoughtfully, "Fascinating." He shook his head, the beard twisting strangely over the flagstones, "What else have you discovered my boy?"

"And if there is none?" Severus asked, "If that is all I know?"

"Severus."

"You cannot read my mind, Albus."

"I don't need to, Severus." The Headmaster said, "I never have had to."

"There was a gathering earlier this - yesterday. At least five of the old families were there."

"The question then is which of the families -"

"Albus -" he knew the sensation that pressed against his chest - had given it name after name as the years went by.

There were children from twelve of the old families at Hogwarts - seven of them were in Slytherin.

"I gave you my word, Severus." Albus chided gently.

( - liar -) But he said instead: "Whatever Narcissa Malfoy's motives, we have to assume that what she does will not - with any certainty - be with our interests at heart."

"But perhaps -" he paused, the breeze from the green flames tugging at his beard making the tip roll across the flagstones, "Perhaps, not in Tom's interest either, dear boy." (Don't call me that.) "You will answer his call?"

"I'll report back when I can." Severus said shortly.

"Then we will wait for your return." Albus said calmly.

Severus froze and forced the words out: "Surely time should be of the essence. Grand gestures are meaningless - you said that once."

Albus' head tilted to one side, considering, "Ah yes, the 1987 Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch match; Humpernickel wanted to forfeit."

"We still won." Severus said absently.

"Regardless of their meaning, there are a time and place for gestures - grand or otherwise." Albus noted; the flames licked green around his floating head, curling over the pale white of his beard and then he was gone.

When Sirius reached the inner sanctum of Albus's office, Remus was sitting in one of the armchairs scattered around the room - Madam Pomfrey shaking her head as she ran her wand up and down his neck.

"Really Headmaster - were it not for the circumstances. . ." she declared as Sirius closed the door, "Try not to harm yourself any further, Lupin - there is only so much even you can sustain before permanent injury occurs." She snapped, gathering her skirts about her and stepping towards the fireplace before turning to glare at Sirius, "As for you Sirius Black - " she began then shaking her head tossed powder into the fire and with a muttered 'Infirmary' stalked through.

"Ah Sirius." Albus said, "You do have quite a knack at firing the ire of my staff." he gestured to a seat, "I take it the ever quick thinking Miss Granger directed you here."

"She told me to come here immediately - after casting a 'stupefy' that would have done you proud, Remus." Sirius said uncertainly, glancing at the werewolf and taking in both the paler than normal complexion and the dark scorch marks on his brown robes, "What happened? Where is Harry -? What's going on?"

Albus leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, "As you might have garnered, Voldemort has attacked earlier than expected." He nodded to Remus, "Your prediction, Remus."

"Hardly happy to be proven precognitive, sir." Remus said, wincing, "What do you want us to do, Professor? I take it that there isn't very much time?"

"Slightly more than fourteen hours according to Colin Creevey." Albus confirmed, "Sirius I need you to send the alert out through the Order. Tell them -" he paused, then sighed, "Tell them that the worst has happened and that we will do as planned - Hogwarts' wards shall fall and the war will begin tonight." He tapped his desk and a small panel rose to reveal a box, "You will have enough time." Albus drew out the time-turner, "That we can manage."

"And Hogsmeade, Albus?" Remus said quickly as Sirius made to rise, "What of Hogsmeade?"

Albus shook his head, "The tunnels were opened and the forerunners will draw the people back to Hogwarts before Voldemort reaches the village. More than that -" he looked old, Sirius thought, old and tired, " - is beyond even a time turner's ability to foretell. Go Sirius."
Sirius nodded, already drawing the time-turner over his head, "What of Harry sir? Will he - is he safe?"

"As safe as he has always been." Albus said and waved at the fireplace, "Go."

The flames roared green then died, bringing with it silence.

"And I, sir?" Remus asked quietly, "What do you want me to do?"

Albus tapped the side of his nose, blue eyes twinkling, "Ah Remus. My dear boy."

"Sir?" Remus ventured after the pause had stretched for longer than a gap in conversation might indicate.

Albus glanced towards Fawkes - who, Remus observed with some curiosity, ducked his head, "First time that bird has been wrong when it comes to time." Albus muttered, "Your task, Remus, is on its way – or rather his way."

The creak of the stairs turning came as the flames flickered from green. Fawkes squawked on his stand.

Remus could barely remember the boy that pushed open the door and entered the office - though there really wasn't a need for remembrance when it came to recognising Malfoys. The silver-blonde hair (though this one was a touch darker than expected) and those eyes were distinctive. (Not Lucius -) He grabbed for a name (he must have taught the boy after all). (Dragon? Surely not? No - it was something. . . Latin. Draconis?)

"Remus. You may remember Draco Malfoy." Albus said.

There was something odd about the look in the boy's eyes – they seemed glazed. Almost drugged. Not at Hogwarts – Remus thought uncertainly, Muggle habits in a pureblood. . .

"I taught him – some time ago now, sir." Remus said finally, and wished silently that Madam Pomfrey's potions against concussion worked instantaneously rather than over the course of a night.

"Fred -? Fred?" Ginny broke ranks with the rest of the fourth year Gryffindors sleepily making their way into the Great Hall - ducking past a prefect along the way - to reach her brother, "Fred?"

"Ginny – Merlin! There you are – thought you'd gone and vanished like –"

"Fred where's Ron? He isn't with the fifth years." Ginny said urgently.

Fred stared at her, "He isn't here already?" he asked, gripping her shoulders, "What about Harry and Hermione?"

Ginny shook her head, "I can't find any of them – where's George?"

"Looking for Ron." Fred said distractedly, "They must have run off – knowing Harry, they're in the thick of whatever this is about." Ginny bit her lip and glanced around the Great Hall, searching for that flash of Weasley red.

There were students everywhere, roughly organised by houses now though the four long tables had been vanished – so she assumed – by the House Elves. They huddled together, half of them still in pyjamas – a few of the Hufflepuff first years were curled up in the corner, trying to sleep.

"Noise level ain't 'nuff to wake a hippogriff is it?" George's familiar rumble said next to her ear; Ginny did not squeak but did turn to glare at her older brother.

"Looks like we're only missing the Slytherins." Fred remarked, "Didn't find Ron?"

George shook his head, "Like you said, probably in the thick of things with Potter and Granger."

"Leaving us to look after the girls." Fred added with a huff of humour, "There's Katie now – Bell – oi! Bell!" he bellowed.

"Who he think his kidding?" George muttered, "If the Minister of Magic doesn't know he fancies her by now –" and then glanced rather guiltily at Ginny, "We'll talk about this later." George said, and rested his hand on her shoulder – it was a warm, familiar weight. She tightened her hold on Fred's arm.

Their mother had taken the four of them to the station by herself that year. There had been another series of late night raids and Ginny had never seen her father so tired. They had been running late; there hadn't been any time for a proper good-bye.

Her mother had seemed about to say something more, but the train had whistled and she had managed only a hurried: "Don't lose each other. Take care - and don't forget you're family."

It had been a strange farewell, at the time Ginny had wondered if perhaps their mum had been thinking about Percy and his pig-headedness again.

Don't lose each other. . .

"Hey Fred, George. Ginny." Katie Bell said, "You three all right?"

There were more students pouring in past the doors – mostly Slytherins though there were a few Ravenclaws and one or two black-banded Hufflepuffs in the crowd. Most of the Slytherins, Ginny noted sourly, had taken the time to pull on robes.

"Haven't found Ron yet –" Fred said, "You don't know any news do you?" his voice cracked slightly and he flushed red as he cleared his throat.

"He's with Dumbledore." Katie said promptly, "Along with Granger and Potter. Probably having tea and lemon drops knowing the old codger." She grinned suddenly, "You two might be interested in this - Madam Pomfrey's been giving Prefects droughts to keep everybody warm." She was shivering as she dug out a bag from her robes of what looked like yellow sweets, "Probably a good thing too since most of the younger years got pulled out of bed in their pyjamas. Anyway, Finnegan (that idiot) charmed mine into lemon drops – they don't taste half bad, you two –" she glanced down at Ginny, "Sorry Ginny you're positively dwarfed by these two – three should grab one now while there's some left." Katie glanced up and swore softly, "And there's the professors now. Quick take these – I have to make sure the littles get one each or every sniffle between now and Christmas will be my fault." She hurried off, leaving each of them with a sweet.

"She's right, they aren't half bad." Fred remarked, sucking briefly, "We'll have to talk to Finnegan about the charm he used – maybe some sort of pre-set charm to change medicine -?"

"Better yet - something to change sweets into medicine." George said with a snicker.

"And then," the Headmaster said as the fire flickered from green, "There were two." Fawkes thrilled, fluttering his wings, "Oh I always count you, my friend." Albus chuckled, "I trust you know your task?" Fawkes fluttered his wings and Albus politely gestured a window open, "On time, Fawkes. No later, no sooner." He reminded the phoenix who squawked one last time before vanishing into the dawn.

Albus stood at the window, eyes drawn to the glow on the horizon where Hogsmeade was, fingering his beard.

The knock on his door was a mere pretence at politeness; Albus didn't turn around as he answered: "Come in Minerva."

"Fawkes -"

"Yes, I just sent him off." Albus said, "The children are gathered?"

"In the Great Hall. Calmly so far - and the Prefects are distributing the potion as best they can." Minerva McGonagall said, "You were right this time, everything is moving smoothly. There is only one question left, Albus. And you have been quite amazingly agile about avoiding answering it."

"At least some should leave with the groups."

"Is that entirely wise?" Minerva asked quietly.

Albus turned from the window and sat down in one of the arm chairs by the fire, "Tea?"

"Oh Albus." Minerva said, exasperated, "Really - at this time?"

"When else?" Albus asked.

She stopped him mid gesture with an exasperated sigh, "Allow me; after the past few days I don't think I can stomach that lemon-tainted sop you call tea," she said, "Besides of which, I always was more partial to Earl Grey." The teapot that appeared had cats curled around its rim.

They drank in silence as the sun rose.

"Albus - why?" Minerva finally said, "All of this - the safe houses, the exodus, the Wards - even allowing the children to prepare - all was for their safety. I understand - despite what Severus might think thank you - that the Slytherins are part of what we protect but they would be as safe within the wards, safer! Why send them out with the others? Why increase the opportunity for all of this to fall into disaster?"

Albus was silent for several long moments before he answered, "The madman -"

"Oh not this again Albus -!" Minerva protested.

"The madman saw darkness. The genius saw stars. But the child -" Albus paused, "The child however, saw everything."

"And what does that mean, Albus?" Minerva asked in exasperation, "What does it matter what the madman, the genius - or yes, even the child - see?"

"Everything Minerva. It is everything." Albus said, "Victory or defeat, the sun shall rise after the final battle. And on that day, we will all face the same challenges we face now. Tom is no more than one challenge - a vast one yes, but we cannot allow him to overshadow the others that are equally as important."

"And how shall placing Slytherins out there – to stick out like sore thumbs and increase the threat of discovery – make them all the more prepared to face all these other challenges, Albus?" Minerva snapped, "How -"

Albus held up one hand, "Pax, Minerva." He stood, "Come, Severus will be returning soon."

"Albus." Minerva said; but she rose from her seat, "Albus. What do you from this?"

"The war would have meant nothing - win or lose - if at the end, nothing was learned, I feel." Albus said in answer.

Ginny wasn't listening to her brothers; she was watching Professor Dumbledore talking with McGonagall and Flitwick at the front of the Great Hall. She wished she was close enough to hear.

Behind Ginny, somebody shot up red sparks - she flinched. Fred pressed down on her shoulder.

"S'just the prefects." He said, lowering his voice as students around the Great Hall slowly grew silent, "What do you think this is about anyway?" he asked.

"I heard somebody say something about a drill - in case You-Know-Who attacks again this year."

A prefect (Sonya Grey, a sixth year Ravenclaw) frowned as she passed them but continued on to a group of sniffling second years, kneeling to hand out what looked like the same yellow sweets Katie Bell had given them. George crossed his eyes at her, one cheek bulging from the sweet.

"You lot be quiet." A Hufflepuff prefect hissed before moving on to wake up a patch of first years.

He needn't have bothered - they snapped upright in shock as the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

Professor Dumbledore looked up from his conversation just as Professor Snape stalked past them, robes flaring around him. The flames from the torches caught a glint of gold hanging around his neck - it drew Ginny's attention - (I've seen that before -)

There were splashes on the Professor's robes – dark wet patches that reminded Ginny of something – Potions?

"Merlin." George breathed, his hand tightened on her shoulder, "Fred. Fred."

Blood.

"Shite."

It was blood.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, "All ready, prefects?" he asked then smiled, "The second of Hogwarts wards were raised earlier this morning." He paused - almost as if he expected a response.

Bile rose in Ginny's throat. Where are you Ron?

"Ah - I see that 'Hogwarts, A History' has been slightly lax in its - recording." Dumbledore said, "Nobody? Well then - perhaps an immediate answer. Professor Binns?"

The ghostly professor floated out from a shadow - or perhaps through a wall and cleared his throat, "The first wards of Hogwarts, set upon the foundations by Lér D'Lér -"

" - stop apparation." Fred was whispering, "First wards for safety. Last for hiding us from muggles after the division -"
" - set in concentric circles around Hogwarts -" George added, " - twelve wards in total."

"The second is the first line of -" Fred stopped, eyes widening - and then he let go of her and slipped away into the crowd.

"You lot quiet over there -" a prefect hissed.

"He's going after Katie." George said softly, "Ginny - Ginny don't move - Merlin don't move, I'll be back -" and then he let go of her and slipped into the crowd as well.

"George - wait -" Ginny began and hugged herself, leaving unsaid the remainder of her sentence: What's going on? What do you know that you won't tell me?

Professor Binns was still lecturing - the first year Hufflepuffs were settling in to fall back asleep in their corner, " - the second through to eleventh wards are designed to rise -" he huffed: four years of history lessons had taught Ginny that this was his version of a laugh, " - when Hogwarts has been attacked or is deemed to be in danger of an attack. Each ward stops a physical manifestation - both magical and muggle -"

"Let me go -!" Fred hissed; Ginny whirled - George was pulling his twin back through the crowd.

"Not now you nitwit." George whispered harshly as he grabbed Ginny's arm, drawing her close, "Don't loose each other - Ron's already gone. If we get separated whatever happens from here in - we'll be alone." He said, a desperate edge to his voice, "Katie can wait - family comes first."

Fred stared at him oddly, then subsided with only a muttered, "Later Ginny - we'll explain later."

Ginny felt like kicking both of them. There's blood on Snape's robes, Binns is talking about wards and they're chasing girls -

" - the eleventh ward stops visual apparitions from entering or leaving the grounds and seals Hogwarts within and without." Professor Binns stopped, "The wards have been raised?" he exclaimed and abruptly vanished.

The Great Hall exploded into noise.

"Quiet. Quiet please!" Professor Dumbledore was saying; sparks flickered across the Great Hall and Professor Flitwick sent a hoard of firecrackers up into the ceiling, "Hogsmeade has fallen. We expect an attack on Hogwarts shortly after dusk. Before then, the eleventh ward will fall."

The silence fell – worse than the sudden explosion of noise because it settled in: stifling and still. Fred and George stepped closer, bracketing Ginny between them. She hated how her brothers always tried to stand between her and anything they deemed dangerous. That morning, Ginny didn't care. Not because she couldn't defend herself (and since her first year at Hogwarts, not being weak had been almost an obsession) but because while they tried to protect her from reality, she would know where they were. And knowing the exact location of her family was - very important.

Ron - you idiot - where are you? Mum said to stay together - Ron -

"The Ministry has always deemed it safer to seal away Hogwarts and keep all that it holds - separated in times of war." Professor Dumbledore said into that silence, "'Protected' is an easily bandied word. It does not equate safety; it does not provide wisdom," He paused, "It does not guarantee that harm will not occur." It seemed, to Ginny, as if he was staring directly at her, "It cannot stop violence - nor death. What peace it offers it does through ignorance." He held out one finger, as if to halt speech (though everybody in the Great Hall - with the possible exception of Mrs Norris - were silent), "But 'protected', by its very nature, offers an intrinsic choice - one oft' assumed but - " Professor Dumbledore smiled then, " - occasionally taken by choice:

"Be hidden, or hide."

Author's Notes: It has been a long time hasn't it? I am sorry, turns out working, moving countries and running an archive does eat up all your free time. However, as this chapter has been on my hard drive for the past three months, being edited continually, I thought I should at least attempt to release it for all of you to read. A poor seasonal present but the best I can do, I'm afraid. Suffice to say, all mistakes are mine, all things that work is due in large part to Ashe.