A/N: Congratulations to my partner-in-crime for her major achievement.


Silence

Tayet sang a soft, worried note as the mist outside thinned, condensing into shapes. Already they had substance enough to cast hungry shadows over the garden wall.

At the sound of the Floo from the chamber off the headmistress' office, all conversation ceased, and all heads turned.

Coming into the office, Hermione paused at the sight of Bill, Arthur, and, after a hesitation, Lupin, all standing at her entrance. Her eyes widened a little at their new formality, but however disconcerting that was, it was nothing to feeling five pairs of questioning eyes fixed on her.

At first the intensity of their gaze was undifferentiated, collective. She drew herself straighter and met each pair of eyes in turn, reading in them varying degrees of surprise, concern, confusion, and, from Lupin, a kind of shuttered reserve that seemed to resonate with something she preferred not to think about just then. She turned last to Bill Weasley, whose regard was calm, tinged with respect. When she met his gaze, he nodded once, and smiled slightly.

Well, then, she thought, and, drawing her chin up a little higher than perhaps was strictly necessary, she announced, "As you see, I am perfectly well."

"No, no, dear…" Molly began, but Bill cut her off, saying seriously, "Of course you are. Thank you, again, Hermione. Forgive me for not seeing it sooner?"

Hermione stared at him for a moment, then recovered herself, nodded and took a seat. Only then did the wizards sit. Okay… strange… breathe… She turned a questioning look to the headmistress, who appeared to have been quite as surprised by the show of respect as she herself had been.

"Only those here currently know of your… work, with…" She closed her eyes briefly, then finished, "… with Severus."

Hermione's face revealed neither her trepidation at the headmistress' hesitation nor relief at her concluding words.

"They also," she continued, "are aware that Albus is awake and able to advise us. Remus will be informing Tonks, and I, Kingsley, after the meeting. Albus will inform Hagrid personally, and asks that neither Harry nor Alastor Moody be informed."

Hermione's mind raced again. "So Harry, Ginny, Ron…"

Arthur finished for her. "None of the other children will be told. It's too much, to ask them to hide anything from Harry."

Bill shifted slightly, raising his eyebrows, and Arthur turned to him, smiling. "Sorry, son."

Bill waved a hand in a gesture that was both amused and tolerant, but asked, "Charlie?"

All of the Weasleys turned to Dumbledore's portrait.

"That is, of course, up to you, Arthur, Molly," Dumbledore said.

The parents exchanged a glance, and Hermione saw Molly's lips twist in benevolent admission. "He can't keep a thing from the twins, I'm afraid. And they – well…"

Bill nodded. "Right. Okay, then."

Throughout this exchange, Minerva had been watching Remus. There was something too casual about how he'd not looked at Hermione since she'd entered. Her lips thinned slightly. "Miss Granger, do you have further information for us, before the others arrive?"

Hermione nodded, and adopted her usual classroom posture as she turned to address everyone. "He - " she closed her mouth, and turned to Minerva. "I'm sorry – I don't know which form of address is appropriate, now that…" She gestured involuntarily toward Dumbledore's portrait.

"'Severus' will suffice, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said calmly.

Only Minerva noticed some change in Remus' air that indicated he had paid rather close attention to Hermione's tone and manner.

"Yes, sir," Hermione continued. "Severus believes he will be called to report to Voldemort tonight, or perhaps early tomorrow morning. Once he has ascertained Nagini's presence, he will inform me of the location, which I shall then communicate to you. He asks that you have the Order assembled, ready to Apparate," she finished, quietly.

Arthur pressed Molly's hand, and Bill dropped his head slightly, glancing up at his parents. Lupin did not move.

Minerva placed her palms on the edge of her desk, but otherwise betrayed no reaction to the probable imminence of the confrontation.

After a moment in which Remus' eyes stayed fixed straight ahead, he turned to Minerva. "Logistics?"

Minerva nodded. "We have solved that particular problem. I will prepare two untargeted Portkeys this afternoon, as well as one for each Order member, targeted to the hospital wing." She swept her hand to include the assembled portraits, all of whom were wide awake. "We all believe it will suffice."

Hermione looked up in time to see Phineas Nigellus slip out of his frame. A glance at Bill told her he had also seen the movement; he gave her another small smile.

Remus nodded, and, dropping his eyes to his knees, said nothing further.

/x/

"Untargeted Portkeys," Phineas Nigellus said to Mrs. Black, then disappeared again.

"Young man!" she called.

There was no response from the kitchen.

She called again, and, although she waited longer, she again received no response.

Finally, she snorted. "Cousin."

The kitchen door swung open, and Severus appeared, turning the mirror in his fingers.

"Untargeted Portkeys."

"Plural?"

She nodded, glancing at him apprehensively.

He closed his eyes briefly, then nodded once, sharply, turning back to the kitchen.

His hands on the mirror had stilled.

/x/

Hermione felt the mirror in her pocket grow warm. For reasons she didn't fully understand, she angled herself toward the headmistress' desk before slipping her hand toward it.

"Hermione."

He received the impression of a question without words, and pressed on. "The untargeted Portkeys - Phineas heard the plural correctly?"

"Yes," she thought, and the contact was broken, but not before Hermione felt, more than heard, the sound of shattering glass. She closed her eyes.

Minerva was rising to greet the rest of the Order as they arrived. Hermione forced herself to stand, to go through the motions of greeting Harry and Ron.

"All right, Hermione?" Ron asked, glancing sideways at Harry with an expression Hermione couldn't fathom. She'd never seen Ron look… speculative? Ron? Surely not…

If her inability to read Ron was a surprise to her, it was nothing to the surprise she felt when she met Harry's eyes. Her "Good morning" died on her lips, and instead, she found herself taking a step back, saying only "Harry?"

"Hermione," he nodded grimly.

Where before she had only ever seen the reactive emotions of a child – anger, fear, determination in response to a new adversity – there was instead a force of personality that she'd seen matched by only one other. She caught her breath and said again, "Harry?" tilting her head slightly in question.

He held her gaze and nodded, the ghost of a grin lurking in his eyes.

Hermione wasn't sure, and she didn't check, but she thought she heard a slow exhale from the direction of Dumbledore's portrait. Her face broke into a pleased grin, and Harry nodded, returning her smile.

There was no mirth in Harry's smile.

None at all.

Hermione was reassured.

As she moved back to her seat, she felt more than heard something shift in the Order. Some relaxed. Some came to a heightened level of focus. She had no idea how she knew, but she knew, without looking at their faces, that Minerva, Bill, Lupin, and the Aurors had taken the exchange between herself and Harry as some kind of signal – that they were already psychologically drawing themselves into a battle line, a bastion behind Harry and behind herself, and behind Severus, those of them who knew… She knew, too, that Arthur and Ron were confused by something, and that Molly was, somehow, smug about something – the same something that confused Arthur and Ron.

These impressions lasted no more than a moment, but of them, of their accuracy and rectitude, she was certain.

Then she felt the mirror in her pocket cool. Her hand was back on it in a flash. "Oh, no you don't. And you'd best not be destroying the kitchen again."

She received an impression of anger of such flaring intensity that it nearly burned her fingers, followed by a sense of ruthless self-control, followed, finally, by Severus' words in her mind. "What just happened?"

Through gritted teeth – if her mind had teeth, and just then she was fairly sure it did – she thought, "I just saw Harry."

A startled feeling.

"What answer were you expecting? And what did you break? And why do I have the feeling that you're spying on everyone in this room?"

"Because I am. Keep your hand on the mirror."

Hermione scowled mentally. "Heil."

A bark of laughter rang in her mind. There was no mirth in it, but she felt some of his tension dissipate as she heard the Floo in Minerva's chambers, signaling Kingsley's arrival. Before he entered the office, the outer door swung open, and Hagrid entered, carrying his crossbow.

Minerva rose instantly. "Hagrid, is there a pro-"

"Nah, Headmistress, I jes' like ter…" Hagrid waved the crossbow aimlessly, looking dazed, and the sentence hung unfinished as everyone in the room froze, unsure whether to look at him, at the crossbow pointing carelessly from his hand, or at something, anything else.

At that moment, Kingsley entered, brushing ash and soot off of his robes. "Sorry if I'm a bit late. The Prime Minister…" He heard the quality of silence in the office, and stopped, his sweeping hand frozen mid-gesture.

Everyone was looking at Hagrid, and Hermione saw his eyes flick to each member of the Order in turn.

Minerva. Molly. Ron.

Oh, gods - Harry. He's going to break down completely when he gets to Harry.

Her poise crumbled and she was across the office and hugging him fiercely, her arms not reaching even halfway around him. "Hagrid, it's okay; there's a way. It's going to be okay."

His large hand had come up to pat her head awkwardly, and it stilled on her head.

She looked up at him. He was looking across the room, but she knew he wasn't really seeing whatever was in front of him.

"Hagrid," she said again, softly. "Hagrid, did you hear me? It's going to be okay."

He blinked, and cleared his throat, and then a rumble started somewhere in his chest that began as a laugh, and finished as, "I knew yeh could do it, Hermione!"

She found herself swept off her feet into a fierce, rib-bruising hug that was mostly beard and slightly musty-smelling. She tried to speak, to tell him no, it wasn't her, but she couldn't draw enough air to make a sound.

"Hagrid! Have a care!" Minerva said, her voice sounding choked.

"Righ'!" he said, happily, placing Hermione none too gently back on her feet, thumping her soundly on the shoulder.

Hermione winced as she felt something in her shoulder pop, but she struggled to get enough breath to say, "It wasn't me, Hagrid. It wasn't me."

Eyes sparkling, he beamed down at her.

Still not certain he was registering her words, she stepped back, her hand on her shoulder, and said, "It was Lupin."

Remus stood slowly, and the quality of silence changed again as Hermione found herself looking straight into the eyes of the only living member of another group of friends, a group so very like her own.

Her stomach grew cold and she thrust her hands firmly into her pockets.

"What? What is it, Hermione?"

Remus shook his head slowly, and turned to Hagrid.

Ron, whose face had erupted in an enormous grin at the news, shot a look at first Harry, then Hermione, but neither met his eye. Harry was smiling, but not as broadly as Ron thought he should be, and Hermione's smile seemed… sad? Resigned? His grin faded slightly, and he glanced at Bill.

Bill gave him a small, enigmatic smile and put a hand on his shoulder, but said nothing.

"Hermione?"

Moving back to her seat, Hermione allowed her hair to fall between her face and the rest of the Order. "I… I've just told Hagrid everything is going to be okay."

Her thought was a whisper in his mind, and his own was fiercely gentle in return.

There were no words for it.

The moment was brief.

And… Lupin. He's…" she began.

"Lupin?" he asked.

"He doesn't feel right."

An assessing silence. Then, "'Feel'?"

Before she could stop herself, she nodded. Her hair fell away from her face, and she looked up hurriedly, but only Ron was looking at her.

Grinning, he tilted his head toward Hagrid, who had uncocked his crossbow and was setting it down on a table, Remus' hand still on his elbow.

Moody, whose magical eye had been clicking over everyone, traveled from Ron to Hagrid to Remus.

"I'm glad for it, Hagrid," Remus was saying. "It's risky, of course, but it definitely flips the odds in our favor."

"And anything that does that is happy news indeed," said Arthur, rising to join the other men at the table.

Happy… Hermione's mind echoed. Happy. She swallowed hard, blinking fiercely. Oh, gods.

Moody's eye clicked over to Hermione as she ran her free hand through her hair and rubbed her thumb on the mirror.

"I heard, Hermione. I heard." The reassurance in Severus' mental tone did not match the steel that came through, sharp and hard.

"It's nothing. It's fine. I'm fine."

"Breathe, Hermione. Lupin. Back to Lupin."

"He knows. I'm nearly certain of it."

"More probably, he suspects." A tarnished malice, quickly mastered. "Pay it no heed. He'll put it aside, for now."

Minerva called the meeting to order, and Lupin joined Tonks on the far side of the office as Arthur rejoined Molly. Kingsley seated himself near Hermione, and Hagrid stayed near the door.

Ron could not stop smiling, but Moody's magical eye remained firmly fixed on Hermione.

If it could have narrowed, it would have.

As it couldn't, not even Bill Weasley noticed.

Minerva summarized Hermione's report and outlined Remus' plan to avoid the Indemnity required by the Horcrux in Voldemort's snake.

"So we shall all assemble at Hogwarts this evening and await Hermione's message regarding the location. I will target the Portkeys for Hagrid and Grawp, and the rest of us will Apparate. Hagrid, your obvious mission is to destroy the snake, and I believe we may trust Remus' assumption that Grawp will, quite instinctively, do everything possible to protect you. Once the snake is killed, Hagrid, and you must make Grawp understand this… " she looked at him pointedly, every inch the commanding teacher.

Hagrid nodded, his eyes determined. " 'E's smart, Minerva. I'll explain it to 'im."

Ron and Harry exchanged dark glances, and Hermione bristled. Moody's eye remained immobile.

"… he is to get you as far away as possible, as quickly as possible. Nothing more."

"Which he would likely do anyway," Hermione thought fleetingly, sensing Severus' nod. They had agreed, in Grimmauld Place, that the merit of Lupin's plan lay in its capitalizing on Grawp's one guiding principle. Useless as a weapon, Grawp nonetheless displayed an unshakable loyalty to his half-brother. Hermione had insisted it was out of love; Severus that it was, more likely, animal instinct.

They'd put the debate aside. There hadn't been time.

Minerva's voice seemed to falter slightly. "There being no way to predict how many Death Eaters will be present, it is to be hoped that the element of surprise will prevent Voldemort from being able to call any of the more fearsome creatures at his command. I believe the trapping spell Miss Granger alluded to… ?" She looked at Hermione.

"Look at each of them in turn, Hermione."

She looked at Minerva – clear-eyed, proud - then at Hagrid – misty, solid – "It will, in all probability, not affect Grawp, and perhaps not Hagrid, although there is no way to know for sure."

"No way to test it, is there?" Kingsley rumbled.

Looking at Kingsley – stanch, calm – Hermione simply said, "No." She looked at Moody, who leaned forward in his chair.

Then at Tonks – taut, coiled - who shifted uneasily, glancing at Lupin, who turned to look up to where Tonks stood behind his chair. Tonks' eyes widened as she saw his expression, and she raised her eyebrows slightly.

He shook his head – the smallest movement.

Tonks sighed. She would have to drag it out of him later, she knew. She returned her attention to Hermione, who was looking toward the Weasleys as she continued to address them all.

"The spell will be cast once you have all Apparated, which should be immediately after Hagrid and Grawp arrive." Looking at Bill -

"'You'?" Remus asked quietly.

Hermione turned to face him and nodded.

"You will not be Apparating with us, then?" he continued, in the same quiet voice.

"Careful, Hermione." A deadly, silken whisper.

"No. I - " she glanced at Minerva, whose posture was rigidly alert – more at Lupin, she thought, than at herself. "I will already be there," she finished, lifting her chin.

Moody's eye clicked once.

"And how is that?" Remus asked, his tone carefully neutral. Tonks, Bill, and Harry all looked at him more closely.

Hermione matched his tone, regarding him evenly. "How else would you know the location?"

"Surely your source could convey the information to you as easily were you to remain here, at Hogwarts, than if you were to Apparate from another location?"

"Severus?" she thought, not taking her eyes from Remus'.

"The best lies contain some truth."

"Lovely." She smiled slightly. "Voldemort already knows about me."

A shockwave rippled over the Order - even Remus was taken slightly aback.

Behind his mask of sleep, Dumbledore smiled sadly. Brava, Hermione.

"It was necessary to maintain contact. Were I to arrive with the rest of you, his position would be immediately compromised."

"Malfoy," muttered Harry, glancing at Ron, who nodded.

"So," Remus said, somewhat grudgingly, "I assume that your source will cast the trapping spell?"

Hermione nodded. "By itself, the casting shouldn't unmask him – which may be to our advantage; at least, I hope it will…" She was talking too fast and she knew it. She paused for a steadying breath, and, looking finally to Harry, continued. "But the timing will have to be precise, else Voldemort may flee."

Everyone nodded, except Ron. "This spell," he said. "What's it called, exactly?"

Hermione smiled sadly. "Foris Clausa, Ron. It's a foreclosure spell. Once it's cast, no witch or wizard may cross its boundaries until its… until it's over."

Saved by an apostrophe, she thought wildly, fleetingly grateful that her near-slip had been inaudible, as the Order broke into discussion amongst themselves, the Aurors moving to stand together, doubtless considering possible tactics.

The attention of the group diverted for a moment, she sighed inwardly.

"'Saved by an apostrophe?'" came Severus' thought.

"I almost let it slip - the terms of the spell – its conditions – what you'll have to –"

"Focus."

"Stop distracting me, then!"

A moment later, she could have sworn she felt eyelashes brush her fingers, and she drew a shuddering breath.

The Aurors broke apart, and Kingsley addressed the group. "We'll obviously have to be flexible – no way to predict what we'll find when we get there. Bill, Tonks, Moody, Minerva, and I will take the offensive, if possible; the rest of you will shield and step in as necessary."

Hermione watched as the implications of those last words reshaped Ron's reality.

Kingsley saw it, too. "And you, lad," he began, his tone gruff, but kind.

Ron blushed at being directly addressed.

"Your job is to stick to his back," Kingsley nodded toward Harry, who had been sitting silently throughout.

Ron nodded. "I will."

"And don't let anything get past you."

"Yes, sir."

Molly paled, but the look on her face was proud.

Harry turned to Molly and said, "Ginny."

Molly's eyes widened slightly, and she went, if anything, even paler. Then she closed her eyes and nodded.

Arthur started to speak, but she placed her hand slowly on his.

It was a silent gesture, but it was enough. He swallowed hard, and, looking from his wife to Harry, finally nodded.

Harry sat silently for a moment, then turned to Hermione. "The last Indemnity, Hermione. The one for my scar. Is it… it's you, isn't it?

As Hermione's gaze crossed the few feet between them, it carried six years along with it. A smudge of dirt on Ron's nose, a chess game. A vase of faded flowers by her hospital bed. Ducking under branches into a dark tunnel, bringing him toast by the lake, and a broken bowl of Mertlap Essence. His shielding her from Cormac McLaggen at Professor Slughorn's party.

Dumbledore's funeral.

Threatening the Dursleys with a made-up spell.

He didn't need to hear her answer.