A/N: As always, thanks to Luna305 for beta duty. Also thanks to Luna, Anastasia, and Tobert, for various inarticulate but fundamental reasons.


Damocles

"No, Molly! I won't have it!"

"We have no choice, Arthur."

"There must be another way."

"This is the other way, Arthur. The other is… it's just…" her voice dropped, and she looked helplessly at him. "It's the back-up plan."

He stared at her, red-faced. "I'm not losing you as part of a back-up plan!" he shouted.

"Arthur!" she admonished him. The windows were open.

He lowered his voice. "If Hermione's plan fails, Molly - "

"It's a brilliant plan, Arthur."

"Logically, it holds water, I grant you. But… but Hermione is no strategist. Several dozen things can go very wrong, Molly, very wrong indeed."

Her voice was calm. "Even if the plan fails, Arthur, I assure you that I will not. Nor will Minerva."

"Molly - "

"Do you want our children to live their whole lives under He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Wondering when their own children are going to die? No, Arthur. There's nothing to be done. We have to give Harry a chance, no matter what it costs us. We made this decision, together, years ago."

"Molly, let me - I'll do it instead - "

"Arthur," she said gently, "it doesn't work that way." She waved her hand around the living room in the Burrow, with its usual chaos of the scatterings of 7 children – 9, now, including Harry and Fleur. "I'm the mother." She looked at him fondly, sadly, their history in her eyes.

It made him smile, and broke his heart. A lump in his throat threatened to choke him. He reached out and touched the strands of grey in her still-bright hair.

She reached for his hand and kissed his palm, drinking the feel of his skin in through her own.

"Molly…"

"I have to do this."

He looked at her. Since he'd first seen her at her Sorting, he had never once felt so lost. He drew her to him, his hand on her hair.

"I - I know. I was just going to say that I'm coming with you."

She pulled away slightly. "Oh, Arthur, no – it's too risky."

"I insist, Molly. I'll not have you face this alone."

Her hands fluttered on his chest. "Arthur, what if something does go wrong? Bill is far too young to deal with this lot on his own, and him just married…"

"My mind is made up. The children are grown."

"Ginny…" she said, weakening.

He drew her close again. "Even Ginny is older than you think, Molly, dear, for all she's your baby." Fingers under her chin, coaxing her to meet his eyes. "Wasn't it you who used to say 'Witches mature faster than wizards'? You were about her age, and trying to convince me… Hm. Yes." He cleared his throat sharply, and glanced away, not wanting to think about what Molly had convinced him to do when she was only a few months older than their youngest child.

Molly sighed as she leaned into her husband's chest. She would not argue with him.

Not today.

"No heroics."

Arthur said nothing.

She patted his chest firmly. "Promise me, Arthur."

He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair. She smelled of flowers and bread, of dust-bunnies and daredevils and the children's thousand daily rounds of did-not-did-too. She smelled like home.

"Promise me."

"I – I promise."

In the kitchen, Ron turned to Harry and gestured with his head toward the living room, a questioning look on his face.

Harry shook his head, and mouthed, "No idea."

The two left the house as quietly as they could, and, once they were out of earshot, they turned to each other.

"Doesn't sound good, Ron," Harry began, lamely.

"Not at all." Ron ran his hands through his hair, wishing they'd gotten to the kitchen a bit faster after the yelling started.

They looked at each other.

"Sounds like Hermione knows, though," Ron said darkly, as they sat down some distance from the house.

Harry nodded. "We could send Hedwig."

"From here to London and back? Not enough time."

"Floo?"

"With Mum and Dad snogging in the living room?"

Harry silently agreed.

"Apparate, then?"

"What, and bring the whole bloody Ministry down on our heads? Sorry, mate, but you can't move without half the Order and a team of Aurors for backup."

Harry grimaced and picked at the grass. "I hate this," he said, finally. "Not knowing."

Ron nodded, watching his parents through the window. Their obvious affection for each other usually made for unpleasantness in his stomach, but at the moment, he found it oddly comforting. "I swear, Harry, I'm going to go barking if something doesn't happen soon," he grumbled.

"Sure you haven't already?" Harry forced a smile.

Ron rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not sure. Mum and Dad snogging, and me not being ill? I must be mental."

"Completely," Harry agreed.

/x/

Had she but known it, Hermione would have been shocked to learn that she and Ron were feeling exactly the same way.

She had just set Severus on fire. Again.

And laughed at him.

She watched a brandy snifter float through the hallway.

"Oh, dear," she sighed, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes.

"Don't worry, dear. Whatever it is you've done, he deserved far worse," Mrs. Black sniffed sagely.

"What has she done now?" Phineas Nigellus appeared.

"I set Severus'… erm, yes. I set him on fire."

Hermione winced as Mrs. Black's cackle grated against Phineas Nigellus' loud guffaw.

"I've just come from Hogwarts," Phineas Nigellus said.

"How's Minerva?"

"Hard to say. She's mostly sitting on her desk twitching her tail, staring at the old fool's portrait."

Hermione opened her eyes at that. "She's what?"

Phineas Nigellus' mouth twisted with amusement. "Sometimes she hisses."

Hermione blinked.

"Seems to bother him most when she purrs, though."

Hermione closed her eyes again, hearing an echo, "… when it all became… too much… I could transform… my feelings were less – less human, less complex when I was a dog…"

She'd not seen Sirius fall through the veil. She'd only heard, afterwards, mostly from Neville.

She realized that would like very much to see Neville.

Reaching a decision, she said, "Mrs. Black? Would you give Severus a message for me please?"

"Will you set me ablaze if I don't?" Mrs. Black cackled.

Hermione sighed. "Of course not. Would you please tell him that I've gone to visit my parents, and I'll be back in a couple of hours?"

Mrs. Black nodded, and Hermione Disapparated.

Phineas Nigellus and Mrs. Black exchanged a worried glance.

"She seem a bit off to you?" Mrs. Black asked.

Phineas Nigellus sounded uncharacteristically reflective when he answered, "A bit…"

They were quiet for a moment.

"Will she be ready?" he asked Mrs. Black.

Having heard the pop from the library, Severus came into the hall in time to hear the question.

"Ask him," said Mrs. Black, nodding her head toward Severus. "I'm just a two-dimensional excuse for a pretext, remember?"

"She's gone?"

"You drove her back to Mummy," wheezed Mrs. Black. Turning to Phineas Nigellus, she said, "Pay up."

Phineas Nigellus' eyebrows flew up, then, grumbling, he reached into his pockets. "Didn't think it would take this long," he muttered.

Severus' eyes narrowed slightly, but he refused to be distracted. "To her mother?" he repeated.

Mrs. Black's eyes sparkled dangerously as she counted the coins Phineas Nigellus had handed her. "It's a wonder she hasn't gone before now," she said, with affected disinterest. "You owe me two more Sickles, you lousy skinflint." Turning to Severus, she continued, "Stop glowering at me, young man. You've worn this mantle for so long you're forgotten its weight."

A protest sprang to Severus' eyes, but Mrs. Black held up her hand before he could speak.

"Wait. Think. You're supposed to be good at both."

Severus inspected his cuffs for several moments before he nodded curtly.

Phineas Nigellus looked at him appraisingly. "Figured it out, have you?"

"She's saying goodbye."

Mrs. Black snorted softly. Phineas Nigellus glanced at her. Mrs. Black pointed at Severus. "More."

"And she wants comforting."

Mrs. Black nodded. "It won't be enough, of course. But every young bride tries, once, when she realizes what she's done."

Severus blinked. Bride? He noticed abstractly that his palms had gone clammy.

She shrugged. "She'll be back – an hour, maybe less. Mummy can't fix the fact that the man she loves is going to kill her."

Snape's eyes glittered darkly, but he crossed his arms, surreptitiously trying to dry his palms on his shirt sleeves.

Mrs. Black spared him a glance before turning to glower at Phineas Nigellus. "Love, death, what's the difference, really?" She gestured impatiently at Phineas Nigellus. "Pay up."

Phineas Nigellus nodded his concurrence. "Either way, life as you knew it is over. One just takes longer." He handed two Sickles to Mrs. Black.

Severus raised a questioning eyebrow at their exchange. "One wonders what pretense you have for currency."

Mrs. Black cackled as the coins clinked together. "None, of course. But even in death, principles must be upheld." Mrs. Black tucked the coins in her reticule before turning to regard him, the amusement on her face wiped away completely, replaced with a grave pity. "Don't you agree, Severus?"

He nodded once; Mrs. Black returned the nod.

Severus turned toward the kitchen, muttering "Accio coat." He was suddenly very cold.

/x/

"Harry, dear," Molly called from the window. "Could you join us for a moment?"

Harry and Ron stood and brushed the grass off of their jeans, but Molly waved Ron back. "Just Harry, Ron, dear." She ducked her head inside before Ron could argue.

After an hour, Severus started pacing in the library.

Harry stared at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "I – you – what? Hermione? What?"

"Sit down, dear. Here." Molly helped him to a chair.

Arthur said nothing.

After another half hour, Severus rested his hands on the mantle and leaned his forehead against the wood. I can't warred with Where is she?

Harry rubbed his hands on his jeans. "I don't understand. He'll do this because he owes me a life-debt?"

Molly looked at him gently. "We think so, Harry, dear."

Harry saw Arthur glance at her sharply.

"I don't understand how those work," Harry said. "Life-debts, I mean."

Arthur cleared his throat. "No one does, Harry. It's a mystery." His voice was steady, but his eyes were filled with desperate pleading.

Harry swallowed hard, and nodded. "Don't worry, Mr. Weasley. I'll make him do it." He thought, Somehow.

Molly's proud smile pierced his heart. "Of course you will, Harry, dear. You always have, haven't you?"

She hugged him tightly. "Now. Not a word to Ron. We'll be there and back before any of the others know we're gone."

Harry nodded, his mind still blindly groping toward some kind of alternative. If I fail... "What about the Aurors?" he asked distantly.

Arthur said, "Tonks and Kingsley will join us, naturally. I'll speak to him now. Excuse me, Harry." He turned away quickly, clearing his throat.

/x/

The shadows were lengthening in the house as Severus swept into the hallway.

Mrs. Black was leaning her head against her frame, her eyes closed.

"Mrs. Black," he demanded.

She opened one eye. "Not back yet, is she?"

"An hour, you said."

"You're slipping." She closed her eyes and he got no more out of her.

/x/

As the last rays of the setting sun slanted through the diamond-paned windows, Minerva resumed her human form and, reaching for her quill, began to write the first of three letters.

/x/

"An excellent dinner, dear. What a joy to have you all here." Arthur set his napkin down and smiled at his family.

Harry saw that the smile didn't match the look in Mr. Weasley's eyes. He wondered at what pretext they'd gotten Charlie back from Romania on such short notice, until he saw Bill and Charlie exchange a glance.

They know. Harry closed his eyes.

As Fred and George began another round of tales from their joke shop, Molly couldn't help but look at Percy's empty chair. Her heart closed in her throat. She forced her attention back to the twins.

No one moved to clean up the dishes. Ginny wondered, briefly, why her mother hadn't insisted, but was enjoying having all of her brothers home too much to give it more than a passing thought.

/x/

Severus sat in the Transformed chair in the library, swirling the air in his empty glass, staring into the still-warm ashes of the fire.

He suddenly sat straighter. Slipping, indeed. Shifting his weight, reached into his pocket for the mirror.

His hands were shaking as he touched it. "Hermione."

He waited.

Nothing.

Then –

"I'll be back soon."

Then nothing.

Where is she? was replaced again, insistently, by I can't.

And as his mind slipped into the empty spaces where "I can" should live, he unconsciously rubbed his thumb over the smooth surface of the mirror.

/x/

"Try not to stay away so long next time?" her mother said, giving Hermione a quick hug before turning back to the stack of bills on the kitchen table, her eyes already moving to check a column of figures.

"Tell Dad I - "

"What?"

"I'm sorry I missed him."

"It was a lovely day for tennis, dear, and you know he never sees Nigel these days."

Hermione nodded, but her mother said no more.

"'Bye, Mum," she said finally.

Her mother waved.

Hermione looked away.

Once outside, her blurry gaze fell on the swing-set her parents had been meaning to remove for years. She went and sat heavily on one of the swings, and wrapped her arms around the chain, leaning her cheek against the metal links that were cool in the fading dusk.

She felt Severus' thumb on her cheek.

And in Grimmauld Place, he felt her tear.

She felt his thought, the gentlest caress. "Come home, Hermione."

Strange, how something so tentative could be so solid.

She touched her mirror as he thought again, "Please."

He heard her say "Yes," and she was in his arms.