Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who's read/favourited/reviewed/followed me, it really does make my day when I get the little notifications! :) Particular thanks to my reviwers:
Fai's smile: Oliver is quite possibly even better than Percy deserves and I adore Percy Weasley from the bottom of my soul (also part of your suggestion makes me think you've been reading my rough draft for the chapter after this one! You'll see what I mean I think when it's been posted). And you're right, caffeine deprivation is a terrible terrible thing! I'm writing Druscilla and even I want to shake her sometimes, she was meant to be a very imperfect character who does genuinely mean well at the bottom of it all but the relationship between her and Percy got way more complicated than I ever anticipated... Hope you liked this installment, thanks for the kind review. :)
Mayacompany: Thanks for the review, sorry for the wait again! :)
Cheery Blossom Haiku: Your review made me laugh at myself, I cannot believe this has been dragging on since 2005, I tend to forget that! I am determined to finish though, and you're so right there are not enough long Percy stories out there! Thanks for reviewing and for giving me a chance ;)
Jadely31: I'm so pleased you're still with me after all this time! I am very fond of the body hiding exchange myself! I'm also blushing at your hugely kind words! Thanks so much as always for the lovely reviews! :)
A Subtle Change
Chapter 30
Sneaking out before morning light left a bad taste in Oliver's mouth that even Percy Weasley's endearing morning breath couldn't quite banish. He slipped silently out of the front door of Grimmauld Place onto the dark and empty street, almost less sure of what he was doing in this relationship than he had been when he'd snuck in a scant few hours before.
XXXXXXX
Lying awake, as he had been for some time, Arthur Weasley heard the front door open and close and wondered who was going out or coming in at this hour. The temptation to peer out of the window though was offset by the desire to stay in the warm bed with his wife pressed against him. Sleep had thankfully found her easier than it had him.
XXXXXXX
At Hogwarts Hermione found herself in the common room by first light. She was no closer to getting them to Harry and was quietly furious that they'd really got little more useful from Percy than confirmation of what they'd already known. That and fact that portkeys were the chosen mode of transport. Her mind was slowly but steadily turning over various ways they might lay their hands on one. It all hinged more on chance than she liked, her preferred option was untested and the only way to test it wasn't something that sat well with her, especially with the target she had in mind.
XXXXXXX
Druscilla rose early, dressed carefully, practically, and flooed to the Ministry. There was so much to be done, so many people to speak with, not least of all the Minister and the Hogwarts Headmaster, but first coffee. Coffee and her office, the room she'd sculpted about her into her own private kingdom and the place where she felt most in control, most conscious of her own formidable abilities. Percy Weasley wasn't the only member of the Order who took sanctuary in the Ministry.
XXXXXXX
Remus, never an easy sleeper, was roused early by the sounds of someone passing his room. The only person on his side of the floor was Percy Weasley but when he ventured downstairs, expecting to find the young man making coffee as he had many other mornings, he was greeted by the dark and silent cavern of Grimmauld Place's empty kitchen.
XXXXXXX
Minerva McGonagall was an early riser by habit and if one of the reasons that habit had formed was the pleasure of catching Severus Snape at breakfast for a few uninterrupted minutes of conversation before he retreated to his dungeons for the day, then that was something she wasn't about to share.
As usual he was waiting for her with a freshly poured cup of tea alongside his own black coffee. One of the many things she'd learned about him in these early breakfasts was how little he actually cared for coffee but found the kick necessary to make him feel more awake. Severus was by nature a night owl, and, by the necessity of having too much to do to fit into the hours of a reasonable waking day, an early riser. A compensation he was determined not to admit to was starting the day in quiet calm with the one member of staff he felt he could claim a real friendship with and also a deep admiration for. He smiled tightly as she sat down, wondering if this would be the last time they'd do this.
XXXXXXX
Narcissa Malfoy woke slowly to the sensation of her husband gently kissing her neck. She giggled like she was 16 again and pulled him close, feeling his arms encircle her. She had never felt safer than she did in his embrace. Sleepy mornings like this could almost let her forget that he would ever leave, she pushed the thought from her head before it could spoil the mood. The sooner the business with the Potter boy was concluded the happier she would be, she was tired of sharing her husband's time and attention. The sooner he was focussed solely on herself and Draco again, the better.
Arthur had repeatedly put off speaking to his twin sons, knowing full well that they weren't going to like what he had to tell them, but with time rushing on he was unable to put it off further than after breakfast. He called them into a quiet sitting room, trying as he always did not to end up staring at the blood stain they'd been unable to get off the ceiling no matter how many of Molly's formidable cleaning charms they'd used.
The twins were exchanging the usual 'which piece of wrongdoing have they found out about?' glances and Arthur couldn't help but smile briefly.
"Boys I need to talk to you about tonight. Now please don't overreact but..." it was clear from their expression they knew where the conversation was heading and they were having none of it.
"We're coming with you!" Fred insisted.
"We're grown adults, we're not children anymore!" George argued.
"Seriously Dad, you're not stopping Bill or Charlie or even Percy from going!" Arthur wasn't sure he quite liked Fred's emphasis on Percy.
"You can't expect us to stay here like you don't trust us! I know we've screwed up on occasions but you can't just shut us out of this!"
"This is our fight too! Harry's our friend and the outcome of this is going to affect us all!"
Arthur held up his hands and finally achieved some level of quiet. "Listen to me! I want you to stay with Ginny. Your sister is vulnerable, she is a fifteen year old girl who currently has no chance of levitating a feather much less defending herself from anyone!" He lowered his voice, taking in a deep and shaky breath. "If this doesn't work, I have no idea what will happen next. I need to know there is someone here taking care of her. Please!"
Fred and George exchanged an unusually serious look and their whole demeanour changed.
"Of course, Dad."
"You can trust us."
Arthur hugged them both. "Of course I trust you, I'd never ask you to do something so important if I didn't." His sons had made some dubious choices at times, but it was their very willingness to bend the rules to suit them that had encouraged his decision to entrust them with their sister's safety. Arthur had every faith in Dumbledore and held a certain grim hope in their returning with Harry that night, but if not... If not then he had every faith in Fred and George's will and ability to defend their little sister.
XXXXXXX
Remus had retreated back to his room after breakfast to consider things. His recent fight with Druscilla regarding Severus had forced some long submerged thoughts and feelings to surface. There was an uncomfortable well of guilt that threatened to overflow whenever he saw evidence of the things Severus had to endure. He'd never really stopped wondering whether if someone other than Lucius Malfoy had reached out to the sullen potions genius at school if Severus' life might not have turned out differently. Perhaps not, but there was no way to be sure of that.
It was only too obvious to him that if there was one person who would be in more danger tonight than Harry it was Severus, and that left him wanting to do what he should have done so long ago at school. Reach out and offer the support Severus would undoubtedly not want.
He sighed and flooed to Hogsmeade. He could use the walk from the village to think what on earth he was going to say that wouldn't sound ridiculous.
XXXXXXX
As soon as she'd managed to pull him away from his breakfast, Hermione hurried Ron down to see Hagrid. The half-giant didn't often join the rest of Hogwarts for breakfast of a weekend, preferring a quiet cup of tea with Fang (who enjoyed a bowl of milky tea of his own) before getting to work on his vegetable patch.
Today though the vegetable patch stood empty. They found Hagrid inside his hut, kettle boiling dry on the fire and Fang sulking in his basket.
"Hagrid?" Hermione ventured quietly, seeing the man was in some distress. "What's wrong?"
He looked at her, more wild-eyed than usual. "We're tryin' somethin', tonight. We're goin' to go get 'im back."
"When?" she asked quickly.
"Late on this evenin', after dinner. Though I doubt anyone's likely to want dinner."
"Are you going from here?"
"No, the Order's all meetin' at Grimmauld Place." Hermione's questions were coming so fast Hagrid didn't even have time to consider whether or not answering them was wise.
"Take us to Grimmauld Place with you," she insisted. "We'll hide under the invisibility cloak and we won't get in the way but we can't sit here while this is going on."
Hagrid sat down, trying to muster strong enough opposition to the wilful young woman in front of him. "I don' know how much better you think sittin' at Grimmauld Place will be, no one's stayin' there - the attack's being coordinated from the Ministry."
"The Ministry?"
"Aye, Professor Thornfield sorted it all out, charming woman that and so attentive to the younger members of the order, she's always chattin' with Oliver these days and I hear she's just the same at work - always keen to help those just startin' out." Ron suppressed a snort at this point, he'd heard exactly what Druscilla Thornfield's idea of 'helping' was and that it tended to involve attractive young men. "She's been awfully attentive to Remus lately too."
Hermione was not interested in Thornfield's 'attentive' manners. "So she's coordinating from the Ministry?" At least it was an Order member doing it, though Hermione had never been quite sure about Thornfield from everything she'd heard about her.
"Assume so, yeah." Hagrid was not a man to go to for details.
"What time do you need us ready for?" Ron asked.
"Well we're goin' at seven, bu'...'ang on! I never said I'd take yer!"
"Hagrid, you can't expect us to sit here and wait! Plus I reckon you're wrong about Grimmauld Place being empty, Fred and George are supposed to be watching over Ginny and I can't imagine they're going to think it safer to go anywhere else! And think about it," Ron continued with a calculating expression, "If you fail, Grimmauld Place is going to be looking a lot safer than Hogwarts."
"Don' say that! Dumbledore'll see it all right again. An' 'ow do you know the twins are stayin' with your sister, you're not s'posed to know tha'!" Hagrid sighed in defeat as Ron and Hermione looked innocent. It was a look that was rather more convincing on her than him, but that didn't mean Hagrid believed it for a second. "If I don' take yer though I suppose you'll spend the night sittin' up and that'll get everyone else worried." Hagrid frowned and snorted. "Fine! Yer can come bu' yer bring that cloak and don' tell no one!"
XXXXXXX
"So what do we do once we're at Grimmauld Place?" Ron questioned Hermione on their way back up to the school. "I take it you're not intending for us to stay there with Fred, George and Ginny."
"No," she sighed, "But I'm not a hundred per cent happy with the next step. We need to get hold of a portkey and the easiest way to do that would seem to be to get one from somebody there. They're all bound to be on edge and in all the disorganisation we might be able to get one unnoticed."
Ron frowned. "How?"
She shook her head. "Not how. Who."
"Huh?"
"Tonks. We make her drop hers, hope it looks like an accident, and swipe it under the invisibility cloak before anyone spots us."
Ron looked dubious, "So how do we make her drop it without her realising we're there?"
"There's a spell I've been researching," Hermione said reluctantly. "It's supposed to throw someone off balance. It sounds like if you're not expecting it then you wouldn't realise it had been cast on you. But I've never cast it and I'd rather test it out..."
Ron groaned, "Alright, fine!"
She looked confused for a moment until she realised what he was thinking. "No, not on you! We need someone who doesn't know it's coming and who's preferably of a similar level of clumsiness to Tonks. We'll have a better idea of how it'll work on her that way. You're much less likely to drop things than she is!"
Ron frowned, "I'm not sure I like where this is going. Are you talking about Neville?"
Hermione looked guilty. "Can you think of a better choice? He's nearly as clumsy as she is. It's not like the spell should hurt him, it's just meant to make him lose his balance a bit." She bit her lip, clearly seeking the approval of someone else for something she didn't approve of herself.
Ron couldn't let her down. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."
XXXXXXX
Dumbledore could still remember a teenaged Druscilla sat across from him in this very office after breaking one too many rules. Back then she'd been difficult, defiant, insensitive to the point of cruel at times, her harshness softened for most people, though not Dumbledore, by her ready smile and flirtatious manners. She'd also been staunchly proud of being a Slytherin, bright, passionate, playful, and unpredictable. He reflected that the woman before him hadn't really changed very much.
Back then he would never have considered her likely to become a future Ministry leader, but then she had always been unpredictable.
Her thoughts seemed to be running along similar lines. "Well, this brings back memories." She grinned, looking around his office in interest. "I'd say simpler times but they weren't really, were they? At least probably not for you."
Dumbledore did not return her smile. "Indeed not. Though things have certainly reached a fever pitch of anxiety at present."
"I didn't think you got anxious." She shrugged, "Just never occurred to me that you would, that you're as human as the rest of us."
"There is a lot riding on tonight, not least of all a young boy's life."
"Well," she became more serious, "I have come bearing good news on that front." She frowned. "At least it might be good news, it really all depends on how you feel about it."
"Oh?" Dumbledore gestured for her to go on.
She gathered her thoughts for a moment and continued. "You're probably aware there are people in every department of the Ministry trained to be emergency back up to the Aurors should a need arise." Dumbledore nodded. "The idea is if the Ministry ever comes under attack there should already be people on every floor with full knowledge of emergency procedures and defensive training, without us needing to station Aurors on every corridor which tends to make people nervous." She gave an awkward laugh.
Dumbledore found himself filling the silence as her she sipped at her coffee, looking unusually uneasy. "That was the capacity under which you saw service alongside the Aurors in the last war, wasn't it?"
"Yes. It was." She didn't elaborate, indeed did not need to, Dumbledore knew she'd received several commendations and also an official warning for her actions during the last war. He was aware that towards the end her risk-taking had become something of a problem for Moody who'd eventually firmly dumped her back at a desk and made it clear she was to stay there. Up until that had happened there had been major speculation that she might go back and finish the Auror training she'd once abandoned, to take up a position in International Magical Cooperation, and forsake the political career she'd been building for herself even then. The Ministry had never again made such major use of a member of the emergency trained personnel and the war had ended soon after, leaving Druscilla to return to politics. She looked lost in thought for a moment as though she were remembering of the same events. She shook her head and continued. "Anyway, since then people have continued to be trained but they've never been called upon." She paused significantly. "Fudge has taken the step of asking them to volunteer for tonight's rescue mission."
Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "How does Kingsley feel about this?"
"Better than I do. Maybe that's a good sign. He trained these people, if he thinks they're potentially going to be of use as something other than extra targets then we need to believe him."
Dumbledore frowned at her phrasing. "Indeed. Well it is a resource I am surprised the Minister is willing to activate but if Kingsley thinks it is for the best then you're right, we must place our faith in his knowledge of them."
"It's going to be a real mix of people isn't it?" She smiled grimly. "Hogwarts staff, the Order, the Aurors, the Ministry staff."
"You're worried about how well they will function together?"
"Bluntly, yes. But I do have faith in Kingsley's judgement and he has apparently agreed to each of them individually. Which I had no idea was going on, it always bothers me when stuff gets past me at the Ministry, which is probably why I'm so nervous about the whole idea if I'm honest."
She was honest, Dumbledore reflected. More honest now than she had been in her youth, less likely to lie to cover her own mistakes, and she was probably one of the few people he knew who he believed never tried to lie to themselves. Druscilla liked the unvarnished truth, that at least he could see as a strength even if her occasional insistence of foisting it upon other people he found discomforting and insensitive.
She did however have a tendency to demand honesty and openness in return from those around her. "What's your plan? For dealing with Voldemort?" She asked the question as though she felt she had every right to the answer but didn't believe she was likely to get it.
"My priority is getting Harry back safely."
"Is it?"
Her knowing little smirk suggested she neither believed him nor was particularly troubled by the notion that the young man's well-being might not be his first priority. That same lack of compassion he'd noted in the rebellious teen, it troubled him that it was still there.
"You're not going to tell me your plans are you? Sometimes I wonder if you trust me," she said lightly. "Oh don't worry, I don't take it personally, I'm not sure how far you trust anyone outside of some of your staff. I can respect that."
"I'm sure you can. Trust isn't something you're noted for yourself."
"You know I never used to think you liked me very much." There was a hard edge to her voice but her tone remained perfectly civil.
"And I was quite certain you did not care for me." Dumbledore found himself responding in much the same way, of all the things to have to deal with this morning a rerun of Druscilla's school reprimands was not top of his list of priorities.
"No." Druscilla's honestly did tend towards the brutal. "But I was impressed by you even then. And now..." she sighed, softening slightly. "Now I wouldn't want your job for anything."
"That's reassuring, give how remorselessly you've pursued Cornelius." Dumbledore decided to take advantage of having Druscilla in his office in a mood to talk, not something he thought had ever happened before. "Tell me, what will you do with his job once you have it?"
"You think I'm going to be Minister?" It wasn't clear if the question was Druscilla being coy or genuine.
"Don't you?"
"Well yes. But I know that one of my flaws is to sometimes overestimate myself. I'm worried this could be one of the occasions." She smiled grimly, "Plus I have to live to see tomorrow first. And so does the Ministry."
"The Ministry has survived past dark lords, not to mention some Minsters that were frankly not much better than dark lords themselves. I'm fairly convinced that there will be a Ministry in the morning."
She gave a little laugh. "Notice you're not daft enough to offer guarantees on there being a me in the morning."
"Life sadly comes with few guarantees, but I know Kingsley said he hoped never to fight you again even though he managed to disarm you." Dumbledore couldn't help smiling at the memory of the usually unflappable head Auror recounting the incident of her pulling every dirty trick in the book, plus a few new ones, and eventually stealing his wand when he helped her up from the floor.
She laughed and winked. "Most people who've fought with me prefer not to come back for seconds. There are no guarantees but I'm rather hoping a pigheadedness and refusal to lay down and die before I get what I want will be helpful."
"That seems to have worked well for you so far."
"I know you don't approve of me, or my career..."
Dumbledore interrupted her before she could start on a defensive tirade. "Actually I think you've done great things in your career, a fair number of them were even good things. Your work with werewolf rights has been particularly impressive."
"Well, thank you, I suppose" she was stopped in her tracks for only a moment before regathering a degree of momentum, "Would you care to guess though how much unsolicited advice from powerful old men I've endured over the years?"
His smile was equal parts amused and frustrated. "More than I could possibly imagine, I'm sure. But you are using one valid point to evade another. My advice is unsolicited but it is not uninterested, I am not attempting to patronise you nor even to caution you. I am simply taking the opportunity of speaking my mind to the person most likely to be our next Minister. A person I find both personally and professionally extremely impressive but whose lack of compassion concerns me."
"You think I have no compassion?"
"That is not what I said. Nor is it what I think. I simply believe that you have a tendency towards being hardnosed and ruthless."
She smirked, pleased with herself. "I'll take that as a compliment."
The old man looked sad. "Please don't."
In her discomfort Druscilla hit back. "You think because I'm a woman I should be fluffy and approachable?"
"I think that as a reasonable and intelligent adult who is about to wield a worrying amount of power that you should take more time to understand the lives of those who wield none at all. That your response to those who disagree with you, or who do things that you disagree with, can be unfortunate. You may be in the position of setting the tone for how the Wizarding World puts itself back together after all this. Can you afford a hard line approach to that?"
For almost the first time he'd known her, she looked genuinely lost for words.
Dumbledore continued, determined to at least make her listen, even if it served no purpose. He had to try, the Wizarding World did not need another term of bad Ministry leadership. "You have lived your life from moment I met you by insisting people either keep up with you or get out of your path. Your compassion to the likes of Percy Weasley is at least partly predicated on his usefulness to you. If he weren't as remarkable as he is would you have thought twice about Fudge pushing him out of the Ministry?"
"No. I would not have." She was clearly unashamed by her answer, though there was a hint of something like self-doubt as she continued. "There are days when I still wonder if he was remarkable enough, he worries me. I have placed a heavy burden on young shoulders, and I think he's faltering and I don't know if I did the right thing."
It was impossible for him to know what she was thinking but her doubts about her clear favourite had been slowly dawning on the headmaster of late. There had clearly been some kind of row at some point, she'd spent a good week barely speaking to Percy and he'd seen the way she kept an eye on him in their meetings almost as though she were worried he might fall apart. He had no idea how well founded her concerns were, Percy was a closed book to most of the world. "If anyone should know Percy Weasley's fortitude then it is you."
"Yes, but I also know just how young and untested he is." She sighed, "You know it's funny, people at the Ministry think I'm thoughtful. I'm not. They think that boxes of biscuits for the maintenance people at Christmas and 10 galleons dropped into every collection they put under my nose makes me thoughtful and generous. In reality, I'm more thoughtlessly generous. I dole out donations and Christmas gifts to the underappreciated not to make them feel appreciated but to ensure that I am." She snorted, "I think it took Remus all of ten minutes to work that out. Took Percy rather longer, and I suspect it upset him rather more. He does like having someone to hero worship." It was interesting, Dumbledore thought, that she so clearly didn't like the idea of being hero worshipped.
"Why are you smiling at me?" she asked.
"Because both Remus and Arthur Weasley have assured me at various points that you were aware of your own flaws but until now I'm not sure I've ever seen you show it."
"Advertising your weaknesses in politics is rarely a good idea. Look, I know I'm not perfect. I've made mistakes, I'm going to make more of them, but yes thank you I am aware of my own flaws. One of them being that I do tend towards the defensive. But if you expect me to be pleased by your approval, which I have never sought, then..." She passed from an intense sincerity to back on the defensive within a couple of sentences.
"I do not expect you to be pleased, or indeed anything else." Dumbledore sighed, frustrated at his inability to handle the woman and suspecting she was equally frustrated that she couldn't handle him. "Why did you come here this morning?"
"To tell you about the Ministry reserves." Even she didn't sound convinced.
"You could have put that in an owl or a firecall."
"Yes." She spoke quietly and sipped her coffee again, gathering her thoughts. "I need to know you're going to handle him. Voldemort. I'm risking people's lives, some of whom it now turns out aren't even Aurors but just Ministry staff with minimal training and no experience of combat, based on the notion that you can, but you don't want to tell me your plans. You've not even confirmed that you have a plan. I respect your abilities and your intelligence and your endless ability to get people to do what you want. Don't give me that look!" She pointed crossly at him. "You manipulate people as badly as I do, but when it's done by a respectable old man it's thought of as 'guidance'. Even when you're guiding people right into the firing line." She stopped briefly for breath, pushing her unruly curls back from her face. "I believe that you have good reasons for everything you do, and I am willing to follow you right into that firing line, but I need some kind of reassurance that I'm not throwing away people's lives."
The speech, and even more so the passion behind it, shocked him. Perhaps most shocking of all was the simple 'I am willing to follow you right into that firing line'. He'd never expected to hear anything like that from this woman. He raised his eyebrows, wondering how best to respond. "And what would you do if I couldn't give you the reassurance you wanted? Call the Ministry off, let the Order go in alone?"
"Stop it." It was clearly an instruction rather than an answer to his question.
The headmaster was genuinely puzzled by the sudden flash of temper. It was never easy to tell what would provoke Druscilla, a key reason he felt so few of her assistants had lasted long. "Stop...what?" he asked.
"Stop playing power games, I'm not Cornelius damn it!" she smacked her palm down on his desk hard enough to upset her cup.
Dumbledore was reminded of her smashing her mug in an order meeting in a previous display of temper. "You really need to stop doing that."
"Losing my temper or spilling coffee," she asked, drying herself with a spell and trying to rescue some of Dumbledore's paperwork from the puddle. He waved his wand and his desk started clearing itself up.
"Both?" he suggested with a smile. He might not know what would provoke her but he had long ago learnt that calm good humour was the quickest way to diffuse her, short of just giving her what she wanted anyway.
She snorted, "I suppose if I spilt less coffee I'd actually get to drink it which might have inherent good effects upon my mood." Dumbledore looked unconvinced by this but then she'd always secretly suspected him of being a herbal tea drinker and she'd never been able to fully bring herself to trust people who didn't appreciate the importance of a large strong mug of coffee.
"It's a theory," he said noncommittally. "I am well aware for the record that you are not Cornelius and I was not attempting to play games with you, merely wondering what you hoped to achieve from coming here to demand answers."
"And you beating about the bush over whether or not you're going to tell me, or indeed whether there even is something to tell me, that's not you playing games?"
"I have a plan for handling Riddle, does that reassure you sufficiently?"
"I don't know." It was almost reassuring to see she was as uncertain about what she wanted from him as he was. She sighed heavily, looking frustrated but calmer than she had been a minute before. "You're right, I can hardly pull the Ministry out now, but you can hardly blame me for wanting some reassurance that I'm not sending them in to a situation we can't control with no idea of how we're going to cut the main head off the monster."
"You're making the same mistake everyone does."
"And what is that?" She really didn't enjoy being told about her mistakes.
"He's just a man."
"Oh I know that." Dumbledore wasn't quite convinced by her tone, for all her bravado and insistence upon using a name that almost everyone else shied away from she was still guilty of buying into the mystique Voldemort had constructed around himself, the way he had managed to persuade supporters and enemies alike that he was something else, something beyond the bounds of mortality. "But," she continued with more certainty, "Unlike everyone else, I'm also aware that so are you."
He smiled, thinking of another dark haired unpredictable Slytherin. "You are not the only person to see that."
"There's no point arguing with you is there? I'm never going to win." And she liked to win.
"I have no wish to argue with you. I have attempted to offer you the reassurance you sought." He was conscious of a note of appeal entering his voice, of feeling like they had each reached out to the other and missed by a mile in this conversation.
"I suppose you have," she allowed. She surprised him then with a small smile. "Cornelius never found a happy balance with you. He went from owling you over every little crisis to shunning your counsel altogether." They shared a brief moment of humour at the Minister's expense before she fixed him with a determined look. "I don't plan on making the same mistakes. I happen to like having people around who disagree with me and I strongly hope that the relationship between the school and the Ministry will be more harmonious should I become Minister."
"I'm glad to hear it. A little surprised, but no less glad for that."
She grinned, "I'm not a teenage tearaway anymore you know. I realise I was a brat back then, and I still can be, but I have listened to the things you've said over the years (even the parts I didn't agree with) and I've listened to all the other unsolicited advice too and I've come to the conclusion that though we may go about it in different ways you and I want the same thing. We want a better world," she looked a little rueful, "Though we may have equally different ideas of what that means." She pulled a face, "Seen in a certain light, that's what the Death Eaters want too."
Dumbledore smiled, remarks like that one rarely endeared her to people but he rather liked that she thought that way. He liked that she was willing to look at things from someone else's perspective, even the perspective of those she'd fought so hard against. She'd lost friends to the Death Eaters in more ways than one back in the last war and, along with a slightly inappropriate sense of humour, it had left her with a sense of the human cost to both sides that he felt might be a true saving grace were she to be the one tasked with reuniting the Wizarding World in the inevitably difficult aftermath.
She rose and prepared to leave. "Thank you for humouring me this morning."
"Thank you for coming to speak to me." He offered her his hand and she took it in a warm firm handshake. "I think you have every chance of making a fine Minister one day."
"One day?" she questioned.
He gave an enigmatic smile. "You don't need a pep talk from me."
She shrugged, "I don't know about that. I've a horrible feeling that might have been why I was here."
XXXXXXX
It being a Sunday morning, the school was quiet and Remus found his way down to the Slytherin area of the dungeons unassailed by staff and students alike. He was admitted to Severus' office with an irritated sounding "Yes!"
"Hello Severus."
The potions master looked up from his work in surprise. "Has something happened?"
"No! No, no, I just, wanted to speak with you."
There was a tense silence which Severus eventually interrupted with an impatient, "Well?"
Remus cleared his throat, faced with the other man in all his ill-tempered reality he felt a little less bad for never having reached out before. There was a tension in his jaw though and dark circles beneath his eyes that tugged at Remus' kind heart. "I wanted to wish you luck," he held out a hand, "So, good luck."
Severus sneered, "I do not require your good wishes."
Remus gave a small smile and shrugged, his hand remained steady, "I know. But you have them regardless."
Finally, just when Remus was about to turn away, Severus shook his hand, grip on the too-firm side of comfortable. "Try not to die," he said dryly, "Our next Minister for Magic won't be any good to anyone if she's too busy crying over you."
"You too." Remus gave his hand a squeeze before allowing the scowling man to withdraw. The act contained at least as much challenge as it did affection but his words were sincere.
"I don't believe anyone would cry over me, Lupin," Severus scoffed.
"You're wrong about that. You're wrong about a lot of the bollocks you think people think about you. You have been vastly underappreciated it's true, but there are no small number of people who value you highly and, heaven-forbid, even care about you."
Severus snorted, "Are you done? Any more death bed confessions you feel a need to make?"
Remus couldn't hide his amusement at the other man's annoyance. "No, I think I'm done. None you'd like to make?"
"No." Severus responded flatly to the attempt at humour.
"Then I'll get out of your way."
"There's a first time for everything."
Remus did not rise to the bait, but left before the fragile truce could break. "Good luck, Severus."
"Lupin." The werewolf stopped and looked back, Snape was sorting papers on his desk and not paying him any attention seemingly as he continued, "I occasionally regret getting you fired."
From Severus that might just class as a heartfelt apology, and whether it did or it didn't Remus was well aware it was the best he was going to get. He smiled warmly, "Long forgotten, Severus." Remus quit while he was ahead and quietly retreated, hearing Severus snort once more as the door closed behind him.
XXXXXXX
"Target sighted." Ron's grim whisper tickled Hermione's ear as Neville came into sight down the corridor chatting with Luna Lovegood.
"Oh god," Hermione muttered. The invisibility cloak really was too small for two people these days, Ron was forced to stand awfully close. Her mind whirled for a moment before she poked her wand just slightly out from under the cloak and whispered, "Offendimus!"
The effect was instantaneous and dramatic. Neville stumbled, threw out his hands, dropped the books he was carrying and crashed awkwardly to the ground where he lay unmoving. A trickle of blood oozed across the floor from where his head had impacted upon the stone slabs.
Hermione froze in horror.
"Neville!" Luna crouched beside him, dropping her bag and rolling him over with shaky hands. "Go and get Madame Pomfrey!" she shouted to a group of nearby third year Slytherins who scattered quickly in the direction of the hospital wing.
Ron held Hermione firmly under the cloak as she moved to help the prone boy, relieved when he saw Neville start to move and groan. The stricken girl turned to him to see a grim expression on his face as he tugged her away, barely avoiding a collision with a young Slytherin who'd returned swiftly with Madame Pomfrey. As soon as they were out of sight of anyone, Ron pulled Hermione into an empty classroom, closed the door, and freed them both from the confines of the cloak.
"Why didn't you let me go and help him?!" Hermione sounded anguished.
"Why didn't I let you reveal that we just ambushed him from under an invisibility cloak we're not supposed to have?! Why do you think? Best case scenario McGonagall would have confiscated the cloak, worst case she'd throw us in detention for god knows how long and there's no chance we'd be able to sneak out tonight!"
"But Neville..." Hermione looked torn and sat down heavily in a nearby chair.
"Is being looked after by people better equipped to do so than us. Anyway, don't you think it's rather kinder that we don't tell him what we just did? He's insecure enough about how much his friends value him. Knowing Neville he'd rather believe he was clumsy than that his friends would attack him."
"I didn't mean to hurt him!"
"I know!" Ron ran a distracted hand through his hair. "Come on, let's go up to the hospital wing and check on him, we can say we heard about his accident from someone."
As he stuffed the invisibility cloak in his bag and turned to leave he realised Hermione wasn't following him. She remained stricken, her face the picture of guilt. He felt his heart do something uncomfortable and reached out a hand to her. "Come on, it wasn't your fault. You didn't mean to cause any serious harm and you probably haven't anyway. Let's go and see him, ok?"
Fighting tears, she took hold of his hand tentatively and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.
Ron held onto her hand a moment longer than necessary, a stray thought crossing his mind about how small it was compared to his, how well it fit in his larger palm. When he let go he almost wished he hadn't, missing the support that the usually calm girl radiated. He supposed most people would have thought Hermione a better fit for Ravenclaw than Gryffindor, which was nonsense anyway, but if there were any other house for her he'd always have thought it would have been Hufflepuff. Hermione was staunchly loyal to her friends, to her principles, and to her own sense of self. Hermione didn't compromise if she could possibly help it, she might cooperate, on occasion you might even get her to change her mind, but her internal barometer of right was fixed firmly in place.
It was no surprise therefore that hurting Neville should cause her such distress. He was a friend she already felt she was wronging by their current dismissal of him in hopes of keeping him safe. More than that though, to harm somebody, especially in such an underhand way, simply ran utterly contrary to who she was. It was the part of her that had seen little humour in Fred and George's pranks, that had had little sympathy with Percy's unfeeling disregard for his family, that loathed the Malfoys not for their treatment of her but of the little house elf that had been powerless to escape them. It was the part of her that simultaneously frustrated and inspired him. Now he felt like he was the one compromising her somehow. He had insisted she find a way for them to follow the Order and help Harry, and it had led to her feeling responsible for their friend being stretchered off to the hospital wing.
He had hoped that seeing Neville would ease her guilt but when they reached the hospital wing Madame Pomfrey forbade them to enter.
"No, off you both go! Mr Longbottom needs peace and quiet, he's had a nasty knock to the head. You can see him tomorrow. Now run along and stop bothering me!"
Even Hermione's near tears couldn't persuade the formidable nurse and they were forced to give up and return to Gryffindor tower.
XXXXXXX
On his way out of the school Remus was astonished to run across Druscilla in an otherwise empty corridor. "What are you doing here?"
She looked equally surprised to see him. "I had to see Dumbledore. What are you doing here?"
"I went to see Severus. I just wanted to wish him luck, he's got an unenviable task as usual."
She smiled with warm amusement, "Well of course you did."
"Oh don't start that again! He's risking his life and I just wanted to...well I don't know what difference I thought me wishing him luck would make but...well..." he faltered under her gaze.
"You done?"
"..."
She placed her hands on his face and drew very close to him. They were the same height in her stilettos. "Because I'd hate to interrupt you."
"Erm, go right ahead..." Remus wasn't sure he'd known what he was saying to begin with and he certainly didn't now.
The kiss shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. She'd flirted so much for so long that he'd moved rather past the point where he had expected she might do anything about it. Her interest had been made clear but he knew her well enough to know that if she really wanted something to happen she'd make her move. She hadn't done, so he had assumed their flirtation was nothing she took too seriously.
Her words had been softly spoken, playful and patient, her kiss was anything but. Her hands ran into his hair, pulling him close, and when she withdrew all his suddenly hazy thoughts could force out was, "Wow, what was that for?"
She smiled again, a more open, sincere expression than he was used to seeing on her. "You are a lovely man. You are kind and compassionate and much more mature than most. Severus had you fired, he trashed your reputation and destroyed the best hope you had of happiness at that point in your life, and I'm not sure that not forgiving him ever even crossed your mind. For all your sniping at each other, it's clear you wish him rather better than most do, and I say this as someone with a deep admiration for the man."
"He did it because he was in pain himself. And I did once nearly kill him so his anger, while misplaced, is certainly understandable. He's an extremely brave man and the idea that a stupid mistake he made when he was barely out of school, a mistake my friends and I may have contributed to forcing him into, could have had such hideous and long lasting consequences for him makes me sick to my stomach." Remus managed to look wretchedly guilty and angry in equal measure.
She kissed him again. Softer this time, her hands stroking soothingly through his hair instead of scratching against his scalp. It wasn't really getting any less surprising, from Remus' perspective the whole encounter had taken on a rather dreamlike quality. Though, he considered as he finally brought his hands to her waist, he was happy to indulge this sort of dream for as long as she wanted.
"Are you just going to keep doing that?" he asked slightly breathlessly.
She grinned. "Probably. Though not now, we need to get going." She moved his hands from where they had settled on her hips and placed them firmly at his sides. "Let's go before the children spot us. I'm long past snogging in Hogwarts corridors."
"Well apparently you're not." He grinned back, small tendrils of almost unbearable hope beginning to convince him that this was real, that this maddening woman might well be within his grasp if he wanted her.
"Cheeky!" she looked pleased even as she feigned offence. "Don't grin at me like that or I'll drag you round the back of the broom sheds and tarnish both of our reputations."
"I'm not sure there's much left your reputation wouldn't survive."
She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not sure whether or not that's a compliment. Either way I think we both have bigger things to worry about right now."
"Yes," he sobered, "Sorry, you're right."
She squeezed his hand. "We'll talk about this later, because there's damn well going to be a later." She paused for a moment to consider and winked, "Maybe involving broom sheds."
XXXXXXX
"Did you just see that?" Hermione sounded like for once she wasn't entirely convinced by the evidence of her own eyes even as she watched Remus Lupin hurrying after a certain Ministry official.
"Oh yes," Ron grinned, delighted they'd taken the long way back from the hospital wing and even more delighted that it had served to distract Hermione from her guilt. "And I have got to tell Percy!"
"Ron!"
"What?!"
"You shouldn't be gossiping about Professor Lupin's private life!" she scolded.
"It's not private if you do it in the middle of a school corridor!" he argued.
Hermione's indignation faltered. "Well, you might have a point there. They're clearly not going for secrecy." She shook her head briskly, "Anyway, nevermind them. We need to go and get ready for tonight."
XXXXXXX
'Get ready for tonight' Hermione reflected a couple of hours later, clearly meant quite different things to her and Ron. To her it meant poring over notes and textbooks, trying to cram in every last piece of information that might help them survive. Sneaking into the boys' empty dorm (which was becoming an embarrassing habit these days, Seamus had passed her on the stairs and given her a look she preferred to pretend not to understand while informing her Ron was 'all alone up there') to see her friend engaged in quite a different activity to her own efforts.
Hermione stopped in the doorway and gave Ron a despairing look. "What are you doing? Packing for a day trip?" She gestured to the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products on the bed and the shoulder bag he seem to be stowing them away in after discarding the packaging all over the floor. "I'm not entirely sure we need the contents of a joke shop to fight Death eaters." She pointed out, trying to stay calm and not shout at the idea that he was wasn't taking this as seriously as he should be.
Ron barely spared her a glance. "That's where I think you're wrong this time," he explained calmly, continuing to pack his bag. "What Percy said about Fred and George got me thinking. Neither you nor I are going to out-duel a Death Eater, but some of this stuff the twins have been working on is pretty unpleasant. It's designed to be simple to use and absolutely not fun to the person it's aimed at, if nothing else it's going to be the last thing they expect."
"Ron, that's..." Hermione couldn't seem to find words.
"It's not as daft as it sounds, I have a strategy and it involves keeping us both alive!" Ron huffed defensively.
"No, Ron, it's," she grinned wickedly, "It's bloody brilliant!"
Ron coloured and shrugged dismissively, "Yeah well, it hasn't worked yet."
"Work or not, it's a good idea. If only they'd thought to weaponize Canary Creams."
"Yeah, I don't fancy wandering around a fight offering Death Eaters biscuits."
Hermione's nerves translated into unstoppable giggles at this idea and Ron was soon joining in. "Excuse me Mr Malfoy, might I offer you some light refreshments?" He mimed proffering a tray, "The Custard Creams are particularly good."
"Stop it!" Hermione smacked him with a nearby pillow, "We have to take this seriously." Her giggles however hadn't subsided by much.
Ron smiled fondly, "I take your safety very seriously."
Hermione's giggles were stopped in their path by a sudden lump in her throat.
"Mine too for that matter," he added, purposely not meeting her gaze. Girls, he felt, got entirely too emotional. One moment they were hitting you with things, the next moment they looked like they wanted to hug you. It wasn't that he was all that averse to that notion except that Hermione looked very much like she'd burst into tears while doing it, and that was just awkward.
XXXXXXX
Severus Snape was ready to leave. He had tidied his office, left his affairs (what little there was of them) in order, and graded one final batch of Gryffindor tests with abysmal marks. There was only one thing left he needed to do.
When he arrived at the headmaster's office he got the distinct impression he'd been expected.
"Severus," Dumbledore smiled warmly. "I'm glad you came."
Severus nodded awkwardly, unsure how to begin what he had come here to say.
As was usual for them, Dumbledore broke the silence. "Sherbet lemon?"
For the first time in all the years of Dumbledore offering him sweets, Severus took one. Instead of eating it however he fidgeted with it a moment before dropping it into his pocket.
"Thank you." It didn't take a genius to work out it wasn't the slightly sticky sweet he was grateful for.
Normally when his potions master wanted to be vague Albus let it go, but this time he found himself wanting to hear what Severus really felt for once. For a man who shared his views and opinions so determinedly he tended to keep his inner thoughts and any trace of emotion, that wasn't fuelled by anger, to himself. "What for?" Albus asked, his expression silently begging the other man to answer.
His potions master looked uncomfortable but met his eyes with a vulnerable honesty he rarely offered anyone. "Everything I suppose."
"Everything doesn't seem to be very much really." The guilt Severus always unknowingly stirred up in him rose to the surface. "I didn't reach out to you until it was far too late when you were at school, and then when you came to me for help I sent you back to him."
Severus raised an eyebrow and offered a small smirk, "I seem to remember that that was my idea actually so don't blame yourself for it."
Rare as it was, Albus would not allow his friend's humour to distract him from what he needed to say. "I am sorry you had to go through so much."
Severus' expression became deadly serious. "I made my own decisions Albus, you didn't make them for me. I am grateful for what you did for me."
The headmaster gave a tired smile. "You're very welcome, I wish I had done more."
"You did enough." The words sounded sincere enough that headmaster could almost believe them himself. Guilt fought back though as he watched his friend hiss suddenly, pale face grimacing in pain.
"It's time to go." Severus extended a hand.
Albus Dumbledore shook his hand firmly, fully realising that this was as close to a gesture of affection as Severus could get. He smiled at him reassuringly, "Good luck Severus."
"I hope good luck goes with you as well." The younger man moved to the door.
"Severus," Dumbledore called him back, "If something should happen to me, look after Minerva. Taking on Hogwarts won't be easy."
"I'll be there for her." Severus didn't even have to consider his answer, Minerva might be the only person he'd ever felt any real degree of comfort with and one the few people he ever felt able to provide support to.
Dumbledore smiled and nodded knowingly. "I know you will."
Severus inclined his head to the headmaster and swept out of the office. Dumbledore's smile turned sour as he realised neither one of them could say goodbye. Not that it needed saying. Severus was always a man of few words but perhaps on this occasion all that was necessary, or at least feasible, had already been said.
XXXXXXX
It felt strange passing by the students in the hallways, seeing them laughing and joking and fighting with no idea what was about to happen. Snape almost fell over Dennis Creevey and as he was about to deduct house points a sudden impulse stopped him. He caught sight of a tall stately figure making her way down the corridor after him then glanced over towards the hourglasses in the entrance hall.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr Creevey."
"But I'm not in Gryffindor..." Dennis started to protest but Snape had already swept out of the main doors which swung closed behind him.
This last act of petty vengeance buoyed his spirits for a few steps at least as he hurried down the path. He ignored the sounds of the doors opening behind him, convincing himself it was a student out for a late quidditch practice or simply making mischief, it wasn't his concern anymore he told himself firmly.
The voice that called after him though was too familiar, and usually too welcome, to belong to any student. Right now though it was not one he cared to hear. Albus had been difficult enough but this was the goodbye he'd avoided altogether because he didn't know what to say. Gryffindors never did know when to leave well alone though, especially not their head of house.
But he'd never known how to refuse Minerva and his feet stopped automatically at her behest.
He waited patiently as she strode down the path towards him.
"I don't have long," he warned, holding up a hand as if to ward her off.
"Severus." She wasted no time on pleasantries but pressed his hand between both of hers. "Just stay alive until we can get there."
Her tone brooked no argument but that had never stopped Severus before. "I will do what I can, you shouldn't waste your energies worrying about me."
"Severus, it wasn't a request," she barked, severe and intimidating even to him.
"You do know I'm no longer your pupil."
She snorted and released his hand. "It's not as though there isn't still plenty you need to learn."
"Yes, Professor." Their eyes met and he saw hers searching his for sarcasm, he wasn't even sure himself whether it was there to be found or not. "Minerva, some of these people have even less fond memories of life in your classroom than I do."
She smiled grimly, understanding his warning and expression of concern. "I didn't think anyone had less fond memories of my teaching than you did."
He returned her smile ever so slightly. "I assure you, it's possible."
"Well they should be grateful that I am no longer empowered to put them in detention."
He smiled his agreement, he was occasionally still grateful for that himself. "That they should."
She stepped back a little, knowing he needed to go and wanting to spare him having to say it again. "We'll be right behind you."
He nodded and strode away again, robes billowing in the evening breeze.
She watched him for only a moment before returning to the school, she had no more time to waste on sentiment than he did. The best way to ensure he came back was to ensure they were ready to go in and reclaim him.
XXXXXXX
Druscilla took one last tour of her office, checking everything was in place, that if anything should happen to her someone else would be able to come in and understand what needed to be done to keep the office running. A grim thought but she knew the dangers of what they were all rushing in to. Originally she'd talked of staying at the Ministry to coordinate but there was little enough to do here and Fudge had proved unusually keen to be involved. For once she couldn't fault his actions, he was the person who should be doing this, not her.
She made her way up through the building, past more staff than was at all normal for a Sunday evening in the Ministry. People seemed to know something was happening.
Wonderful, she thought sarcastically as she strode towards the Minister's office, people on edge and sensing trouble, that's all the Ministry needs!
Cornelius called her in within micro-second of her hand connecting with the office door, it was as though he had expected her.
He rose from his desk as she entered and nodded a silent greeting.
"I'm off to wait with the Order." She closed the door behind her. "Kingsley's staying here with the Aurors until it's time." She knew it was an odd choice, she and Tonks were the only members of Ministry staff going from Grimmauld Place, it seemed at some point over the last few months her loyalties had switched from the Ministry to Dumbledore and his ragtag band of misfits. Everything seemed to have changed from the moment Remus Lupin had set foot in her office.
Cornelius extended a hand and shook hers firmly. "Good luck."
She nodded grimly. "You too."
He snorted in distinctly un-Ministerial fashion. "I doubt you'll give them opportunity to come and strike the Ministry."
She recalled the stumbling, anxious looking Ministry employees milling around in the corridor outside, and likely every other corridor. "I don't think it's Death Eaters you'll need to worry about," she said bluntly. "People know something's wrong, when this all kicks off you may have a panic on your hands and almost no Aurors to calm things down."
"I can handle my own staff, Druscilla. Just you worry about getting back here alive, I refuse to clean up your mess on my own."
"Careful Cornelius, you almost sound like you care."
"Almost," he agreed.
XXXXXXX
Severus was carefully watching the time, making preparations to (hopefully, he still hadn't allowed himself to think too much about the fact his plan might fail) bring down the Dark Lord's wards. He would know, probably even before Severus himself did, if the man succeeded and then...the Potions Master pushed the thought away as he strode down a dark corridor and through an anteroom.
A flash of powder blue robes caught his eye. He halted his progress and turned to see Narcissa Malfoy sat quietly alone in the corner.
It was likely guilt for his previous assault on her that she was clueless about, combined with concern for her son should both his parents be placed in danger, but his first thoughts were not of the threat she might pose to his task but the threat it posed to her.
"Severus." She greeted him with a small surprised smile. "I'm just waiting for Lucius, hoping he'll be ready to go home soon." Severus doubted it, Lucius had still been at the Dark Lord's side when he had slipped away. She wrinkled her nose, "This place is so dreary."
"You shouldn't be here, Narcissa." The words were out before he could properly consider them but he wouldn't take them back.
"The Dark Lord doesn't care whether I'm here or not and I'm sure I'd soon know about it if I were to outstay my welcome." There wasn't a hint of expression on her beautiful face. She looked as empty of thought as a child's doll and with that same vaguely uncanny air of innocence.
"That wasn't what I meant," he approached her slowly, as though he were afraid of startling her. The memory of her expression of terrified realisation from when he'd forced his way into her private thoughts reared its ugly head. "It's not safe here, you'd be better off at home."
"My husband is here." She said this like there could be no further logical debate on the matter.
"Don't you think it is enough to have one of you in harm's way?" Caution thrown aside, even with time ticking on he found he couldn't walk away from her, from the whole messy Malfoy family.
"What do you think is going to happen?" she asked. "No one knows we're here, and if the Ministry do work it out then it's best that I am here." She gave him a look of fond condescension, as thought she were explaining something to a small child. "Severus, either this place is safe in which case there is no cause for me to leave, or it is not in which case you could never induce me to go while Lucius remained. My place is by his side."
"Because you're his wife?" he sneered.
"Because I love him," she corrected gently.
"Do you not think that if there is danger involved then it is your son you should be concerned about?"
His slightly desperate tone hardly seemed to register on that tranquil face. He might as well argue with a doll for all the response he could raise from her. "He is safe enough at Hogwarts. I have enough faith left in Dumbledore to believe he would never actively harm Draco because of myself or Lucius." That was hard to hear, that she had any faith left in the headmaster at all astonished him and made him wonder about different ways things might have gone, different paths they all might have taken.
"I agree. I think, physically speaking, Draco is safest where he is, what I meant was that should anything happen to you and Lucius what would happen to him?" He made one last try, he needed to leave but his feet wouldn't budge.
"Don't ask me to make hypothetical choices, Severus, you may not like my answers." Finally some emotion appeared in her expression but what it was he couldn't tell. From a woman who had seemed willing to risk anything to keep her son safe though this was a puzzling response.
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
"I mean that I love my son, and I would do almost anything for him without hesitation, but Lucius is my life. I won't be going anywhere, Severus." Her tone said it all, there would be no persuading her.
He'd spent too long talking to her already but walking away, leaving her to the fate she seemed so fixed on embracing, cost him more than he would have expected. A single grim thought kept him moving, after tonight that was it, no more lies, no more double life, perhaps no more life at all. Whichever way things went though, he was ready for this to be over.
Out of her sight he hurried away, one last little job for Dumbledore and then it was all over. One way or another.
XXXXXXX
A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm working on the next part, not entirely sure if the rescue attempt is going to fit in one long chapter or end up being spread across two but I'm hoping to post again soon! I'd love to hear what you thought of this installment! :)