A/N: Luna is still in absentia; thanks to all who pinch-hit. Special thanks, as per always, to Anastasia/TTFS, who took an early look at this chapter.


Awakenings

But if the wizarding world slept a little more soundly that night, the reason was probably contained in those two words.

/x/

Pop! Tonks reappeared and shook her head. "Can't do it. Can't see anything either."

Pop! Lupin this time. "Still nothing."

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Tonks and Lupin watched as Moody Disapparated and reappeared several times in quick succession.

"Did you see anything?" Tonks asked.

"No." Mad-Eye's magical eye whirled in frustration. He calmed it and screwed up his face, a study in concentration. Pop! And he was back again, growling.

"Alastor, please," Lupin admonished him, putting a hand on his arm before he could try again. "Just admit it. The wards have changed. No level of vigilance could have foreseen the birth of a new phoenix."

"Come on, Mad-Eye. Harry duty. I have to relieve Kingsley, anyway." Tonks turned back toward the Burrow.

She didn't; not really, but Lupin wasn't saying anything.

/x/

Mrs. Black and Phineas Nigellus stood at opposite sides of her frame. Only their backs, which were turned to each other, were visible. Every now and then, one would steal a look over a shoulder to see if the other had cracked yet.

"Turpentine," she muttered.

Instantly, he shot back, "Linseed oil."

She looked up, thinking hard. Then - "Mineral spirits."

/x/

"But Albus," Minerva giggled, a little hysterically, the potion finally taking full effect, "that can't be done! It's impossible… absolutely… " Her voice trailed off as her head nodded to her chest and she fell asleep.

Albus looked sympathetically at the witch who was now sleeping bonelessly in the chair that had so recently been his own. Asleep, with the potion relaxing her rigid posture and softening the lines on her face, the picture she posed reminded him of the young woman with sparkling eyes who had blown in on a wind from the Highlands. He took off his half-moon spectacles and polished them on his robes.

The book edged its way onto his lap.

Replacing his spectacles, he absently stroked its cover.

It ruffled its pages slightly. Had it not been a book, it might have been purring.

/x/

In the garden, Hermione was resting her cheek against Severus' chest, feeling his hands stroking her back gently. They stood together in silence.

Then he felt, rather than heard, her sigh.

"What will happen?" she asked softly.

He touched his lips to the top of her head and leaned his cheek against her hair. "I don't know."

"What do you think will happen?"

"A different question."

She laughed tiredly and nodded, her cheek still on his chest.

"Do you want to go indoors?"

She shook her head. "No. I like the sound of the leaves."

He transfigured a stone garden bench into a chaise and drew her onto it, sitting next to, stretching his arm across its curved back so that she could continue to lean on him.

She looks so very tired… "Once Nagini is dead, if the Dark Lord's physical body should be sufficiently imperiled, he will probably attempt to gain control of Potter through the scar. Once that happens, and the Indemnity is subverted - "

"Or satisfied," Hermione said softly.

Severus' eyes tightened, but he forced himself to relax before speaking. "After that it will be up to Potter."

Hermione held herself very still, trying not to visualize the scene, not to think how many would die before the final moment – even if everything went right and it happened at all. "How is Harry supposed to destroy both the scar Horcrux and Voldemort's body?"

"I don't know."

In the branches above, Tayet stirred but did not wake.

"Severus, no matter what happens, you have to stay alive long enough to help Harry."

"I have managed thus far, Hermione. I have some skill at improvising – one Potter has forced me to hone. And I do have some idea how they both work."

She nestled closer within the curve of his arm, twisting a curl, more slowly than usual, watching it coil and uncoil, thinking. "Severus," she said, a bit later.

"Hm?" He'd been watching her hand worry her hair.

"Might Voldemort try to subvert the prophecy somehow?"

"I think not. His mind doesn't work that way, Hermione."

She glanced up at him. "So you think it's all fairly predictable, still? Despite the fact that the attacks on the Order haven't come off as he planned?"

Severus nodded. "He is probably unaware of his own pattern. He's brilliant, but a little…"

"Unreflective?"

He smirked. "I was going to say 'megalomaniacal,' but 'unreflective' works just as well. There are two ways to set yourself against the order of things. One is to make a completely new order, the other is simply to take the existing one and negate it, methodically. The latter takes little creativity; the fundamental order remains the same." He leaned his head to hers, slowly rubbing his cheek against her hairline, enjoying the contrast between her skin and her hair.

"So we're beating him at his own game." She closed her eyes and drifted for a moment in the feel of his skin on hers.

"In a sense."

She laughed, a small, brittle laugh. "Not very creative."

Severus kissed her forehead. "I beg to differ."

She lifted an eyebrow.

He gestured to the tree where Tayet was sleeping.

"Yes, well, I'm quite sure we didn't plan that," she muttered.

"And I'm equally certain that that doesn't matter," he said, gently. She sounded so tired…

Then her brow furrowed – "Hm."

"Mm?" He glanced down at her.

"Nothing. I hope it works."

He closed his eyes briefly, resting his hand in her hair. "So do I."

"How difficult do you think it will be to get – to get everyone that far?"

"Not nearly as difficult as had you not worked so quickly, and alerted Molly that night, at the Leaky Cauldron. In some ways she's the heart of the Order. Much of it. Her family alone... "

"And Minerva's its head, now." Hermione mused, reaching down for a fallen leaf. "Yes, I can see the strategic aspects."

Her hair spilled out of his hand as she moved.

She Transfigured the leaf into a soft blanket, which she drew over herself, settling back into the curve of his body. "And Hagrid's strength… and us…" her lips quirked in admission. "What are we, strategically... pure theory?"

He reached for her hand, and laced his fingers with hers. "More than that, Hermione. Perhaps much more."

"Perhaps," she said, both an echo and a confirmation.

A slight breeze rustled the branches overhead, and Tayet emitted a single grumpy note before going back to sleep.

They sat quietly for awhile, each focused on the other's presence in the darkness, in time, in the moment, the solid warmth of the other, closer than touch, closer even than thought, even with Legilimency.

"A day, you said?"

"Maybe a little more."

Hermione sighed. She looked at their intertwined hands, then slowly undid the buttons at Severus' cuff. In her mind she saw the threads of flame on his wrist, and could almost hear the hiss of transformation as the Mark was driven into his arm. "And… then what?" Her voice was deceptively casual, almost broken, something more than a request for speculation.

"How do you mean?" His tone, in turn, slightly more guarded.

She did not need to look at him to know that his eyes held a hint of warning, but she paid this no heed.

"What will happen to you? With the Vows, the Compulsion, and… " her finger brushed the skin near the Dark Mark. She didn't speak, and her finger stopped right at the edge of the Mark.

His eyes glittered, fascinated by her finger, which was tracing the line where the Mark began. "Should Potter defeat the Dark Lord, the terms of all of them will be fulfilled."

She nodded.

"And this?" She touched her heart.

He said nothing, but drew the edge of her blouse aside and felt the darkness there, swirling slowly. He touched the mark on her skin, and heard a faint rushing, a counterpoint to the breeze stirring the leaves above them. "It might stabilize, or it might disappear entirely. Blood magic is - unpredictable."

"At least you'll heal. Your soul will, I mean."

He shifted almost imperceptibly. "I suppose it will."

"And then?"

He said nothing.

"You don't expect a 'then,' do you." It wasn't a question.

His lips tightened, and he reached a fingertip to her face. "It's too much to expect, Hermione. Even with Ollivander's work, the chances of your - " He stopped himself. "The timing alone…"

With the sudden and slightly incongruous air of someone reciting a series of potion instructions, she said, "So as soon as everyone's in place, you'll cast the Foris Clausa spell to trap Voldemort." The briskness she had managed to project for a moment faltered, but she rallied, continuing, "In order to cast Foris Clausa, you'll have to intend to cast Ava-"

"Don't."

"And then you're committed to the Killing Curse. And you can't cast it on Voldemort because only Harry will be able to judge the timing, since half the battle will be within himself." Her eyes shadowed. "So even after all this, our lives depend on Harry."

"They have, all along." His hand left her hair and he rubbed a finger under his lip, staring at the garden wall.

Oh, dear. Steady… "So even if we're right about the workaround - "

"We're right," he said evenly.

" – and even if the timing is perfect… technically Harry will have to destroy Voldemort's body and the Horcrux in his scar, simultaneously. If Voldemort's body dies too early, he's stuck in Harry, and if Harry's not strong enough… Oh, dear." Unconsciously, she brought the end of a curl to her mouth. "And if Harry shunts him out of his scar, like he did at the Ministry, then we're no better off and Voldemort will just try again, and he won't be distracted, so it'll be all the more difficult." She realized she was nibbling on her hair and scowled, dropping it. "The timing will have to be exact. No; none of us can do it for him."

He closed his eyes. She had no idea how precise the timing would have to be. He intended to manipulate it, for as long as he could. After that, it would depend on her matching his spell, on Potter, and on the bitch goddess, luck. Twenty-to-one. Probably slightly worse. But his voice betrayed only confidence. "The timing will be delicate, yes."

She drew the blanket aside and stood. "Then we'd best practice our part, hadn't we?"

He glanced at the circles under her eyes, but finally nodded.

Soon, the knife-edge of mist around the garden walls of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, reflected flashes of firing spells.

Overhead, in the branches, Tayet woke up, startled.

/x/

Hagrid tossed on his lumpy mattress. Even though Grawp refused to sleep indoors, Hagrid could hear his voice, carried on the night air through the chinks in the stones.

Even in his sleep, Grawp was mumbling, "No Hagger… no Hagger… "

Hagrid squeezed his eyes shut and tried again to fall asleep.

/x/

More spells flashed in the garden. Even using their Legilimantic connection to focus their timing, Severus was disarming Hermione two out of every three attempts. The third was because she was casting Protego too early, which knocked him backwards. It was what he had trained her to do; it was effective, in a duel.

But this would be no duel; the timing had to be exact.

Tayet swooped down to perch on the chaise. She cocked her head at the flashes. "Squeep."

Neither Hermione nor Severus heard.

Tayet ruffled her wings in irritation, and watched as the flashes grew brighter. "Squeep!"

Hermione anticipated Severus' next Disarming attempt and her Shield spell knocked him several feet, onto his back.

"SQUERK!" Tayet cried, taking wing and flying to Severus' side. "SQUEEP!" She glared at Hermione, who stood, wand ready, panting.

"This is hopeless!" Hermione lamented, waiting for Severus to get to his feet. "You're going too fast."

"Squilp?" Tayet craned her head to look at Severus, her wings still outstretched, backing up as he rose to one knee. "Squerp?"

Severus was scowling, but he reached out and placed a hand on Tayet's neck. "It seems rather a disaster, doesn't it, little one," he muttered, caressing her feathers with a gentle finger.

"Squeep." Crooning softly, Tayet hopped onto his arm, beat her wings a bit for balance, then folded them. Her talons finding purchase in the thick wool of his sleeve, she worked her way toward his shoulder, and leaned her head into his hair. "Squeep," she said again, softly. She took his braid in her beak and tugged it gently. "Thqueep," she lisped through a beakful of braid, eyes glittering at him.

Hermione had dropped to her knees beside them, still breathing heavily from the exertion. "Oh," she murmured. "Of course. We're going about this the wrong way."

"You noticed," he spat, brushing bits of grass off of his elbows.

"We do make rather a habit of it," she snapped back. "Okay. We can't consciously control the timing."

"Apparently not." He shook his head, earning both a clenching of talons on his arm and a sharp tug in his hair as Tayet held on.

Sitting back on her heels, Hermione groaned. "Severus, I was never planning to do more than protect Harry. I can hold a Shield that covers two people for over an hour."

"At which point you collapse, catatonic, one supposes?"

"Well, yes, there is that, but…"

He shook his head, amazed. "And just how did you explain that to Poppy?"

"She was the one I practiced on."

Severus just looked at her. "Of course she was."

"She insisted, after the first time – anyway, that doesn't matter now." Hermione reached a hand out and took the braid, gently, from Tayet's beak.

Tayet looked at her calmly.

"Okay, so, her tear is supposed to help, somehow, for the timing?"

Tayet clicked her beak and launched herself back into the branches. She was very sleepy, and she liked the sound of the leaves.

Severus and Hermione looked at each other blankly.

"That could have been a 'yes,' I suppose" Severus drawled, getting to his feet and extending a hand to Hermione.

"It does seem so. But… how?" Hermione blew her hair out of her eyes.

Severus shook his head. "I have no idea. It's rather uncharted territory. There may be some sources - "

She glanced toward the house, toward the library.

"Tomorrow," he said gently, drawing her next to him. "There's still time." For now.

Her arm around his waist, the wool scratchy but somehow right against her skin, her hand resting lightly on his hip.

Instinctive. Possessive.

In that moment, in that gesture, in its quality, Severus realized something. As they reached the door, he murmured, "Faith, Hermione."

It wasn't what he was thinking, not really, but it was close enough.

For now.

She stopped and looked up at him, and, as he bent his face to hers, the small braid swept forward. Tayet's tear brushed Hermione's eyelids closed.

One kiss in the doorway, then –

"I'm too tired to go upstairs," she sighed, leaning again into his chest.

A wave of his wand and the chaise flattened, widened, and waited. Hermione smiled and lay down, looking up at the stars. "Thank you."

Lying next to her, trailing a finger down her side, propped on his elbow, he watched her eyelids flutter closed in the deep starlight.

"Severus?" She had opened her eyes again.

"Shhh, Hermione. You're exhausted. Go to sleep."

"I will, in a minute, but - "

"Sleep. I'm right here, and I'll still be here in the morning."

She smiled, remembering the mirrors. "Whatever happens - "

He leaned his head down to hers, his hair brushing her neck. "Hermione - "

"Let me finish. Whatever happens – whatever you have to do - "

A note in her voice held his gaze; he could neither look away nor close his eyes.

"Whatever you have to do, Severus, I want you to remember three things."

He looked at her in the shadows and nodded.

"Promise me you'll remember?"

His voice so very soft - "I promise."

"This… lying here… with you…" her voiced trailed off.

"That's one?" he said softly.

She nodded. "That's one. I love you… can't believe… so lucky…"

He smiled, and smoothed her hair off of her forehead.

"And – and all I have to do is think of you, and…" She touched her fingertips to her wand and her Patronus appeared.

The otter scampered onto Severus' chest and happily waggled its paws at him.

He chuckled, and touched his own wand.

The jackal perched its paws on the bed and wagged its tail at Hermione, who smiled, almost asleep.

Weightless, pure light, the jackal jumped on the bed and sniffed at the otter, whose eyes went wide.

The jackal wagged its tail once, and the otter skittered between its legs and pounced on it.

Overhead, Tayet was awakened once more, this time by the sound of Severus' quiet laughter. With a contented "Squip," she went back to sleep.

/x/

Arthur mumbled and rolled over. Seeing the beginnings of light, but hearing no birdsong, he woke up a little more.

His movement awakened his wife, who smiled sleepily at him.

"Muffliato again? I'm sorry, dear – was I snoring?"

"Loud enough to shake the foundations, as you have every night since I married you."

His eyes were warm in the pre-dawn glow as he rolled onto his side, facing her. "Well… as we're awake… "

Molly's smile deepened.

No sound emerged from their room for a long while.

/x/

The birds that Arthur couldn't hear had started to sound in the orchard.

Leaning against the wall with Ginny's head on his chest, Harry looked at the blurry image that was his fingers in her hair. So pretty, he thought sleepily. With his other hand, he patted the damp ground for his glasses.

Ginny shifted in his arms and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. "Your glasses?"

He nodded. He hadn't known she was awake.

She reached up to one of the uneven stones in the wall. "I put them up here earlier, Harry."

She held them out of his reach and made him kiss her several times before she gave them back to him.

Even before he could see, she was beautiful.

/x/

On a very different island, it was still night.

In a house with no ceiling made of walls with no windows, Mr. Ollivander unbent and looked up as a dark liquid breeze stirred the palm fronds overhead.

The bamboo stand outside the door rattled a low tattoo as the wind rose.

One more step, and the first would be ready.

A moment later, the stars in the moonless sky overhead were eclipsed by the black glow emanating from the house with no ceiling.

Mr. Ollivander's face cracked into a weary smile. He would sleep now, for a few hours, while the island waited for the sun.