Chapter Nine

Plan B

There were only a few times in Snape's life that he could say he was actually totally and truly shocked. Right now was one of them.

"Lucius?" he whispered in disbelief. "How...?" He looked again at the abandoned Prophet. "Azkaban," he said flatly. "Of course. The captives are now the captures, I see." Even he had to admit it was a bold move on the Dark Lord's part, and an ingenious one as well. Azkaban would be key during the war, and the Dark Lord had captured it.

Wasting no time, because if they had sent Lucius, that meant the rest of them were probably on their way as well, Snape demanded: "Draco?"

Lucius gave him a half shrug, and began inspecting Snape's house.

"Don't toy with me!" Snape barked. "Where is he, Lucius?"

Lucius' grey eyes narrowed dangerously. "You, my friend, are in no position to be making demands, I can assure you." Then, appearing to change tactics, he answered, "He arrived at his destination with Wormtail. The little rat has been practicing Occulemency while you were at Hogwarts all year. As a... precaution, you understand? He actually had quite the knack for it, I hear. Seems to work rather well under death threats."

That son of a bitch, Snape thought, viciously. He had taken Draco out from right under his nose. How could he have been so stupid? In his worry over Draco, he had allowed himself to get reckless and clumsy. And Draco's safety had been key in Dumbledore's plan.

He had ruined everything.

"And... the Muggle?" Snape asked, turning his attention back to Lucius.

"Wormtail waited for him to write the letter to you, to make sure you thought Draco was safe," Lucius explained. "And then he told the boy to Apparate home, saying that you had changed the plan." He smiled coldly. "And then once Draco was gone, Wormtail disposed of the Muggle, of course."

Snape blinked, and that was the only reaction that Lucius got. "Pity," he said, although only a very small part of him meant it. There was no love lost between that particular Muggle and Severus, but - out of fear - he followed order's well enough. Snape also realized that must have been why the Vow had burned. But it had stopped when Draco arrived back at Malfoy Manor with his mother, where the boy thought he would be safe.

"Yes, such a shame, really," Lucius added. "Could have been avoided." As he strolled around the house, Snape followed from the other side of the room, never taking his eyes off him and never turning his back. "Wormtail joined Draco at Malfoy Manor soon after. Narcissa was quite surprised."

Something clicked with Snape, then. "Lucius, what's happened? What have you-?"

"Turn to page four, I believe it is, in the Prophet, won't you?" Lucius said.

Snape glared. He didn't have time for this. Snatching the Prophet up, he turned to the page as Lucius had requested.

Narcissa Malfoy found dead; Malfoy Manor destroyed.

Snape paled. "My God, Lucius. What have you done?"

"What have I done?!" Lucius yelled, stopping by the door to the kitchen. "You should be asking yourself that, Severus! You've betrayed the Dark Lord. You... lied to him." Lucius shook his head in disbelief. Whether it was over Snape lying, or the fact that he had managed to lie to the Dark Lord, Snape didn't know.

"Where... is... Draco?" Snape demanded through clenched teeth, and he raised his wand at Lucius for good measure. "Why didn't...?" He stopped, realizing what he was about to do. He wasn't sure if Lucius knew of the Vow.

"Why didn't your Vow bond burn?" Lucius purred. "Oh, yes... I know all about that. And so does the Dark Lord. It was a mistake to try faking Draco's death while Bellatrix was there, Severus. She told him everything."

That was unexpected. The Dark Lord had known for months of his treachery and had done nothing?

But Lucius was still talking: "Wormtail convinced Narcissa to free you from the Vow, now that the school year was over and Dumbledore was dead. Draco was allowed to remain with her until late last night, after the Dark Lord's successful take over of Azkaban prison. He and I then went to retrieve Draco. The Vow was released, so you had no idea just how much danger Draco, and his mother, both were in. Now she's dead, and Draco is where he belongs."

Ah, so that was it. He had been waiting until he had taken control of Azkaban. Now he has a lovely little place to keep Draco and I.

"And then, of course, Wormtail supplied me with some hairs, and I drank the Polyjuice Potion, and came to find you," Lucius finished. "Surprise."

"Indeed," Snape said. "Although, I'm sure more for the Dark Lord than it was for me."

Lucius whipped his wand out of his cane. "You've signed your death warrant, Severus. Draco isn't dead yet, I assure you. And you'll be joining him in Azkaban soon. And then I am sure the Dark Lord will take great pleasure in killing you both. You're a traitor, Severus."

Snape's eyes flashed. "Funny. I'm the traitor, yet you stood by and watched as your wife was murdered."

Lucius sent a curse at him then, and Snape managed to dodge out of the way. The force of the spell very nearly blew a whole in the wall. "You should never had made the Vow, Severus. Only fools go against the Dark Lord!" Lucius yelled, and nonverbally sent another spell.

Snape blocked it, and retaliated with a Sectumsempra. Lucius blocked that as well.

"I was protecting your son, which is more than anything you ever did for him!" Snape snarled. "Narcissa came to me."

"Yes, and like a sentimental fool, you obliged her," Lucius sneered. "Perhaps all those years you spent with that Mudblood-lover Dumbledore addled your brains!" He sent a Burning Hex at him, and Snape was just a little too slow. He did manage to turn to the side just in time; only his robes caught fire. He quickly put them out and then turned back to Lucius.

"If I betrayed the Dark Lord, then why is Dumbledore dead?" Snape snarled.

"Oh, trust me, that is something that he indeed would like the answer to. For some reason, he think it has little to do with the Vow."

Snape's eyes narrowed. Lucius was still by the kitchen door. He had to get out of there. He had to get to the Order. He and Dumbledore's plans had - quite literally - blown up right in Snape's face, and now both Draco, Potter, and not to mention himself, were all in very serious danger.

"You're the fool, Lucius," Snape snarled. "Do you really think that he'll keep you alive any longer than he will me? You allowed the diary to be destroyed. You lost the Prophecy. And now your wife and son both went against his orders."

"That's why Narcissa is dead, isn't it? Stupid woman."

Hate started to boil in Snape's blood. "Odd way to talk about a woman you supposedly loved. The woman who gave you a son."

Lucius snorted. "A disappointment, is more like. Just like you." He flung a Blasting Curse at him, which made the stair case and Snape's couch explode, and sent Snape falling backward. When the dust had cleared, he felt blood on his face and a throbbing in his head. Lucius was standing over him, his wand pointed straight at the place between Snape's eyes.

"He always did look up to you," he was saying. "I wonder if he still would have if he knew how I had protected you in school. That snivelling, scrawny little first year."

"A first year who was the only reason you passed your Charms N.E.W.T.," Snape couldn't resist throwing at him.

"I kept your secret. I even convinced the Dark Lord to let you into our ranks. He was reluctant at first, you know. Thought you were too young. Too weak. I told him how much you believed in the cause. How you wanted to make Potter and Black pay for what they did to you. I told him how brilliant you were." His face was inches from Snape's now. "I never told the rest of the school what you really were. Never told the Death Eaters. You filthy Half-blood!"

Snape had his wand in Lucius' stomach before the blond man even realized what was going on. "Incarcerous!" Snape snarled, and Lucius went careening backward, ropes already appearing out of nowhere and binding him tight. He landed a few feet away, back hitting the wooden floor with a very audible thud. Snape allowed the spell to continue, wrapping Lucius tight around the ankles and waist, and then his wrists and his neck. Scrambling to his feet, Snape made his way around the wreckage and to the concealed kitchen door. He resisted the urge to give Lucius a good Entrail-Expelling Curse. He knew he shouldn't leave him alive, but he couldn't waste any more time. He flung open the hidden door, and used Colloportus to seal it again. Then he flicked his wand, throwing open the trap door in the floor, and quickly lowered himself down into his basement and laboratory. Then he sealed the trap door as well.

Part of him wanted to take one of the yellow Intestine Boiling potions and down the whole thing. He had failed. Dumbledore had only been dead for two months, and he couldn't even protect Draco without him. He didn't know who hated more at the moment - Dumbledore, or himself.

There was the sound of a crash from above him; his door had been blasted open. He looked up through the cracks in the floorboard and could see shadows moving throughout his house. Snape began to panic, looking around for another escape route. Why didn't I bother creating an exit down here?, he thought, furious with himself. Then he heard a cold voice tell Lucius to get out of the way.

Two seconds later, the ceiling exploded.

Wood and bits of brick rained down upon Snape, who covered his head and ducked under his laboratory table to protect himself. He heard something drop lightly onto the floor from the kitchen above, and the outline figure could be seen as the smoke cleared. An icy chill filled his stomach as he realized who it was.

"Well," Voldemort said, silkily. "Hello, Severus."

Snape braced himself, emptying his mind, concentrating only on one thought: I am not afraid. He knew full well that was one of the biggest lies he had ever told in his entire life, including convincing all the students in his year that he was a Pureblood.

"Imagine my surprise, Severus, upon being informed that you had taken the Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa Malfoy. That, in itself, is somewhat forgivable. I'm sure she had certain ways of convincing you."

The meaning of those words was not lost on Snape. He didn't flinch, nor take a step back, as the Dark Lord came closer and closer.

"I was quite taken aback, however, that you lied to me. You see my problem here, Severus. No one lies to me. No one. It is impossible. I take great pride in knowing that. I know all, I see all." His red eyes flashed. "No one lies to me!"

Snape was only half listening. The other part of his mind was hell bent on coming up with a plan to get safely out of there. Although, the likelihood of that was becoming dimmer by the second. He couldn't fail again. He needed to escape.

"It would seem, My Lord, that you would be mistaken," Snape said, silkily. It was not one of his brightest moves. However, part of him felt like a great weight had finally been lifted off his chest. The Dark Lord knew. He could stop playing the part of the subservient Death Eater.

Voldemort sent a curse at him. Snape blocked it, and sent it ricocheting back. It crashed into the concrete wall behind.

"You always were powerful, Severus. I should have gotten rid of you long ago. I never thought you'd have the gall to betray me."

"Seems you were mistaken yet again."

Voldemort glowered, his eyes narrowing. "Yes. So it would seem. To lie to me takes great power. I assure you, you and only you, have managed it. This is disturbing, to say the least. I can't have my power being questioned."

Snape suddenly felt himself being hauled up into the air. An invisible hand had him by the neck of his robes.

"How long have you been deceiving me, Severus? Since I returned? Or before then? Were you Dumbledore's man even as you joined with me at seventeen?" Voldemort demanded. "And yet... and yet you still killed him. Why?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Snape sputtered, clawing at whatever was holding him. That seemed to be unnecessary, however, because as soon as the words left his mouth, he was thrown backward and into the far wall. All the while, he still never lost his grip on his wand.

"No one lies to me," Voldemort hissed, "and I will find out how and why you did. I am Lord Voldemort."

"You are a half-blood named Tom Riddle," Snape snarled. "Nothing more."

The room became deathly silent, and it felt like all the warmth had been sucked out. Snape counted five heartbeats in which nothing happened. And then, Voldemort did something completely unexpected.

He laughed.

"A half-blood named Tom Riddle. What about a half-blood named Severus Snape? I should have killed you then, once you admitted it to me. But I thought it would be rather hypocritical. After all, you.. like me... were merely trying to get rid of that part of you which never should have existed. And now that mistake has come back to haunt me. Something which I will very soon remedy. And trust me... you will beg for death. What is it that you're hiding, Severus? You are blocking me even now."

Voldemort sent something like a shockwave out of his wand. It sent the laboratory table, and all the cauldrons and potions ingredients, flying through the air, barely missing Snape, who had just struggled to his feet only to be pushed back into the wall again.

"I suspected you for some time. I'm sure you figured that, what with Wormtail being stationed at your house. But whatever plan you had worked for a time. With Dumbledore's death, those suspicions ended. It appears, however, that you just weren't careful enough," Voldemort stated. In an instant, he had moved from across the room to directly in front of Snape. He hoisted him into the air once more, his red eyes boring deep into Severus' black ones. Voldemort's long, white fingers wrapped around Snape's neck, and Snape felt his air supply being cut off.

"It's a shame, really, that I'm going to have to kill you, Severus," Voldemort whispered, coldly. "You really are quite resourceful."

He took his eyes off Snape for less than a second to summon the rest of the Death Eaters down to the basement. Fortunately, a split second was all Snape needed. Pointing his wand at what was left of the ceiling, he managed to choke out, "Bombarda Maxima!"

Voldemort snarled and hurled Snape back across the room as more of the floorboards and a couple of the cabinets from the kitchen above came crashing down into the basement. One of the support rods almost crushed Snape, who had quick enough reflexes and managed to roll out of the way just in time. He quickly got to his feet, wand at the ready. Voldemort was glowering at him from across the room. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, feeling each other out. Snape was about to make the first move, when a smell registered in his nostrils. Voldemort, it seemed, had recognized it as well.

Snape looked around, trying to find the source of it... There! He had forgotten that the mill houses came equipped with gas burners. Being a Wizard, he never bothered to have it changed to electric when he had taken the house. Apparently, the last explosion had knocked something loose in the burner, and the smell that both he and Voldemort recognized was a gas leak.

For the first time in his life, Severus Snape was glad his father had been a Muggle.

Snape and Voldemort glanced at each other, and then to the gas burner. It dawned on Voldemort what Snape was about to do a little too late.

Knowing he would have to time this absolutely perfectly, Snape - quick as a flash - pointed his wand at the boiler and thought, Incendio! and then ran like hell.

The explosion was immediate. Voldemort barely had time to react, but Snape was already concentrating on his Apparition point. Unfortunately, his timing was not exactly as spot on as he thought. He had just begun turning on the spot when the burner exploded, and thusly caught some of the resulting blast. The wall in front of him was blown away, and he was flung out of the basement and into the night with the rest of the debris. He had no idea how far the force of the explosion was carrying him, but suddenly the ground was rushing up at him at an alarming speed. He hit it hard and almost lost his wand. He hit it so forcefully, in fact, that it caused him to rise back up into the air again. When he hit the ground once more, his head smashed into something cold and hard, and then everything went dark.

Tobias Snape should have learned early on not to make his son angry.

One day when Severus was three years old, he was sitting in his booster chair, munching on some Cheerios, when his father came home from work. He looked angry, and he was stumbling around a lot and shouting for Severus' mother. This made Severus start to feel a bit anxious. When Daddy yelled, usually things got broken and Mummy cried a lot. He stopped to watch the scene unfold, a Cheerio half way into his mouth. His father was yelling about his dinner not being ready again. His mother was trying to calm him down, saying something about how he was early, and that she would have had dinner ready if she had known what time he was going to be home. Even at three years old, that seemed to make sense to Severus. Then he heard the words, "Stupid witch!" and watched as his father threw his mother roughly to the kitchen floor.

Severus dropped his Cheerio. His mother was lying on the ground, not looking at his father or Severus, and Tobias was still yelling and throwing things around.

Severus hated his booster seat. It was too tall for him to get up into by himself, and too scarily high for him to get out of by himself. And he desperately wanted to get out now. His father stormed over to his mother and actually threw one of the pots down at her. "What's the use of being married to an unnatural thing like yourself if you can't even make a fucking simple stew?" he shouted.

Severus had no idea how he had done it, but suddenly he wasn't in his booster seat anymore. He was on the floor, next to his mother. Apparently, this was a surprise to his father as well, for he did a double take, and narrowed his eyes at his son.

"How the hell did you get down there?" he demanded.

Little Severus stuck his tiny chin out, puffed up his chest, and said, "Don't you hurt my Mummy."

And then Tobias Snape was blown out the nearest window.

Which was the precise moment in which the now much older Severus regained consciousness, the memory floating away to the back of his mind. The first thing that registered was that he was lying face down on the ground. Second, there was a blinding pain in his side. And third, he could smell something burning. It was easy to figure out the reasons for one and three. His house had exploded, sending him flying outside. And the burning was because his house was undoubtedly on fire because of said explosion. As for what was causing the pain...

Snape managed to bring himself to his knees. He was coughing soot out of his lungs, and his wand was lying next to him on the ground. The coughing just made the pain in his side increase, and, impatiently, he looked down to see what was causing it. A stick, or a piece of wood from the house, was protruding out of his right side. He must have landed on it during the explosion. Grunting, he pulled it out, his hands becoming slick with blood. As it turned out, it probably would have been better for him to have just left it alone. The piece of wood - it looked like part of the rafters - had been longer than Severus thought, and it punctured him deeply. Blood was oozing out of the wound now, dripping down his robes and onto his shoes and the surrounding grass.

Get up, he ordered himself. Get up, get UP, you lazy bastard!

Gritting his teeth through the pain, he forced himself to a standing position and risked a look around. His house - or what was left of it - was in flames. A few of the Muggles that still lived in the mill neighborhoods were already crowding about, and in the distance he could hear the roar of a fire engine. They don't waste time, do they? he thought.

Holding his hand to his side in an effort to stop some of the bleeding, Snape grabbed his wand off the ground and started to limp away. There was no sign of the Death Eaters or the Dark Lord, but he doubted very much that they would have left without making sure that he was dead. Every step was excruciating, but he made his way down the street, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible, and then took off into the woods behind the houses in an effort to reach the river bank and Apparition point.

He didn't dare risk using his wand to light his path, so he was running blind. Fortunately, he had grown up in this very neighborhood and had snuck out into these woods on many nights, and could easily find his way around. Back then, however, a murdering maniac and his equally maniacal followers weren't after him.

Something hot whizzed passed his arm, and he ducked out of the way just in time as another spell followed it. Turning, he could see a masked Death Eater coming up behind him. The from the short stature and clunky gait, he guessed that that it was Alecto Carrow. Pointing at spot below her stomach, he thought, Sectumsempra! A huge gash appeared, spewing blood, and she went down, but Snape was already on the run once more. He'd gone numb to the pain by now, pushing it out of his mind, and within minutes he arrived at the fence and the river beyond. He didn't bother running the couple of feet to the left that lead to the fence opening, and in a rush of adrenaline hopped over it instead. He landed, clutching his side, and only stumbled once.

"There!" he heard someone yell.

Snape turned to see six masked Death Eaters and the Dark Lord behind him. "Bring him to me alive!" Voldemort hissed.

Not bloody likely, Snape thought. He gathered his strength, and hoping to God and Merlin he didn't splinch himself, turned roughly on the spot. He concentrated on only one thought, London, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

Hermione Granger - Head Girl, former Prefect, and the top student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - had never yelled at a teacher in her entire life. Yet, she found that was exactly what she was doing now.

Three days ago, she, Ron, and Ginny had returned to Hogwarts without, Harry Potter or Albus Dumbledore, and life went back to normal. Hermione was shocked and disappointed to see only half of the Great Hall was filled with students. Professor McGonagall introduced the school to their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, a very young woman named Elizabeth Cheston, who Hermione soon found out was an Auror, fresh out of training. This had been Cheston's first assignment. Needless to say, she was not exactly thrilled about it. She had long, platinum blond hair that was swooped over to one side and then tied in a pony tail.

"If one person calls me Professor Cheston, I swear they'll get a T," she told them on the first day of class. "I feel like I've just left this place myself, and it makes me feel old. Everyone calls me Lizard, but Elizabeth will do, if you absolutely feel like you have to."

Ginny told them later that she was friends with Tonks, and was in a different division than the Metamorphmagus, specializing in investigation. The reason that Hogwarts was Cheston's first assignment dawned on Hermione in no time - Dumbledore's murder.

Slughorn started off his class by going over their syllabus, and reminding everyone of their upcoming N.E.W.T.s. Hermione, of course, had been studying all summer. Ron was muttering something about it being O.W.L. year all over again.

"But you did well on your O.W.L.s," Hermione had reminded him. Ron just sulked anyway, and Hermione sighed. She had learned to ignore him when he got like that.

Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Vector, and Anthros all pretty much did the same thing as Slughorn, and Hermione had a pile of homework within the first two days that made even her head spin.

She and Ron ate dinner together in the common room on their second night, and Ron was asking whether or not he should write to Harry.

"I'm sure he's really busy, Ron," she had told him. "I know you miss him. I miss him, too. But, he wanted us to go back to school, and he needs to carry on with his training."

Ron sighed. "Fine. I guess I'll just write him over the weekend. Do you think McGonagall will let us visit him next Saturday or something?"

Hermione knew very well that the answer would probably be no, but she nodded encouragingly anyway to make Ron feel better.

The next morning, she and Ron went down to breakfast to find the Great Hall in an uproar. Owls were flying everywhere, dropping Prophets and letters to so many students and so often that there were literally piles on the tables, and people were having to sort through them all to find the ones marked for them. Students were shouting, and some looked like they were having panic attacks. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall were both in the crowd, trying to calm everybody down.

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted. "What's going on?" He picked up a lone Prophet that was lying on the ground underneath one of the benches, took one look at the front page, and grabbed Hermione forcefully by the wrist.

"Ouch!" she gasped. "What is it, Ron?"

His face had gone very white, and with a shaking hand he handed the Prophet to Hermione. "Azkaban," was all he said.

Ten minutes later, Hermione, Ron, and Professor McGonagall were in the Headmistresses office having a blazing row.

"You have to let us go back!" Hermione was shouting. She was pacing the office, practically tearing her hair out. "Harry needs us!"

"It is the middle of the week, Miss Granger!" McGonnagal argued back. "I will allow you both to visit Mr. Potter on Saturday, but until then-"

"That's not good enough!" Hermione yelled, face red.

"Hermione's right, Professor! You can't just expect us to sit here, twiddling our thumbs-" Ron began, but McGonnagal cut him off.

"I expect you to act like the adult wizards that you are. You have studying to do! Mr. Potter would not want to be responsible for the two of you not doing well because you were making yourself sick worrying about him."

"I never should have come back," Ron huffed. "I knew I shouldn't have let him talk me into this. This is bull shit!"

"Twenty-five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, and I will remind you to watch your tongue," McGonnagal snapped. "And as for you, Miss Granger, I am truly shocked at your behavior. You a Head Girl, and know better than to act in such a manner. If you continue carrying on like this, I may be forced to choose someone else for the position."

Hermione stuck her chin out defiantly. "Go ahead then. Harry is more important than a Head Girl's badge."

Ron and McGonagall both stared, and several of the portraits in the room actually stopped pretending to sleep to stare at her as well. Even Phineas looked shocked before disappearing from his frame, probably going to Grimmauld Place to tell Harry what horrible little demons his friends were being.

McGonnagal narrowed her eyes. "I know for a fact that you don't mean that, Miss Granger. You are letting your temper get the better of you. Now, believe me, I know how much Potter means to you, and how much you all mean to each other. But he has made his choice, and you two have made yours. Part of growing up is learning to deal with those choices. Don't you think I am as upset as you are about this turn of events? I'm sure an emergency meeting of the Order will be called-"

"We want to go," Ron said, imeadiately.

"-which I will be going to alone," McGonnagal continued, as if Ron hadn't spoken. "I will allow you to use the Floo in my office to talk to Mr. Potter after the meeting. But the two of you will not be going anywhere until the weekend, and that is my final word on the matter."

The two argued with her for a few more minutes, and by the time they had left - having lost fifty points all together from Gryffindor - they were both red faced and angry. Hermione was actually close to tears, but whether that was from losing the points or losing her argument, Ron wasn't too sure.

"I can't believe you were going to chuck your Head Girl badge, Hermione," he told her, flabbergasted.

Hermione blew a piece of hair out of her face impatiently. "There are more important things," she said. "Like Harry. Like the war. Like us," she added, putting her hand in his. "Ugh! I just can't believe she's being so stubborn on this! She knows that the best place for us to be right now is with Harry. We're a team."

"He broke up the team, remember?" Ron muttered.

"Ronald, he did no such thing."

"Oh, yeah? Then why are we here, without him, and he's at Grimmauld Place about to go find the you-know-what's without us?"

Hermione had nothing to say to that. But she knew that when it came time for the two of them to be able to speak to Harry, she would have plenty.

Harry was in a towering temper even before Phineas appeared in his frame at Grimmauld Place, and was definitely in no better mood once he left. He didn't know who to be mad at more; Hermione and Ron for acting like idiots on their third day back at Hogwarts, or at McGonnagal for not letting them come to see him. As it was, he would be seeing at least one of them within the hour.

As McGonnagal had predicted, an emergency Order meeting was called later on that afternoon. Moody, Tonks, and Lupin were already at Grimmauld Place. Kingsly, McGonnagal, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and the rest of the Order followed soon after. It was quite funny to see about twenty-five to thirty people stuffed into the kitchen at Number Twelve. Harry greeted everybody as they came in - he only gave McGonnagal a curt nod and didn't really care how childish she thought he was being - and then Lupin called the meeting to order.

Everyone started shouting at once.

"I can't believe You-Know-Who actually did it!"

"With Dumbledore dead, he thinks he can do anything.."

"How are we going to survive this? This is unreal..."

"Remus, what are we going to do?!"

"Everyone, settle down!" Remus barked, loud enough to be heard over everyone. "We're all very upset and disturbed by this latest bit of news, I know. But we have to calm down and work together, or we'll be here forever. Tonks... Kingsly, what does the Auror front look like?"

Tonks snorted and Kingsly shook his head. "Not good so far, Remus. Scrimgeour's recruiting more Auror's now than ever in light of the situation. He's upping the training fifty percent. Everyone can pretty much kiss any vacation time goodbye."

"And he's allowing the use of Unforgivables during investigations and battles with suspected Death Eater," Tonks added. Her hair was back to the mousy brown it had been during Harry's sixth year, matching the solemn mood of everyone in the room.

"Fight fire with fire?" Mr. Weasley shook his head. "They're not going to get anywhere doing that. It may backfire. The Auror's may end up being just as feared as the Death Eaters."

Harry tended to agree. They had talked about this at the last meeting - the fact that the Order and the Auror's were against using torture and things like the Unforgivable curses were what made them different from Voldemort.

"I take it the rest of the Ministry is taking this as well as the Minister himself?" Remus asked Mr. Weasley.

"It's bloody turmoil over there," he said. "They're acting like it's Armageddon, which it may very well end up being. If he has Azkaban, it means we're in trouble. We have no place now to keep those whom we suspect are Death Eaters, or any other criminal for that matter. The whole place has gone crazy."

"And the rest of the Wizarding world isn't reacting any better, but who can blame them?" McGonnagal added. "The Great Hall was a complete mess this morning."

"What are we going to do?" Harry asked. He was absolutely infuriated with the Ministry for letting this happen. Instead of going off and arresting people like Mundungus and Stan Shunpike, they should have been preparing themselves for a situation like this. For a brief moment, he almost understood why Scrimgeour would want someone like Harry vouching for them. Idiots, he thought, disdainfully.

Harry knew very well what the others were reluctant to admit out loud - they were losing. And from what he was hearing, as the Order kept discussing their options and the Ministry's reaction, this were not going to be turning around any time soon. I have to find those Horcruxes, he thought, firmly. Now more than ever. His resolved strengthened ever so slightly, he turned back to the Order's discussion.

"The war has officially begun now," Remus was saying, "and we obviously can't rely on the Ministry to take action anymore. We may have to start taking things into our own hands. And..." he glanced at Harry, "with the loss of Severus as our spy, things are going to be very difficult. But we can't lose hope. We must always have hope."

The Order stayed until well past supper, and only after everyone had left and McGonnagal returned to Hogwarts were Ron and Hermione finally allowed to use the Floo and speak to him.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione's head said. Both hers and Ron's were floating in the fireplace down in the kitchen. "How did the meeting go? What's going on at the Ministry?"

"First thing's first," Harry told them. "What is up with you threatening to turn over your badge, Hermione?"

Hermione looked shocked. "How did you-?"

"McGonnagal!" Ron shouted. "What a bloody gossip!"

"Actually, Phineas told me," Harry corrected him. "Said you two were acting like right idiots."

"Who cares what Phineas thinks?" Ron scoffed, and Harry could hear someone muttering in the background. "Oh, shut up, you!" Ron said, his head turning around in the fireplace, obviously yelling at Phineas' portrait in the Headmistresses office.

"Dumbledore's portrait didn't happen to wake up while you were in there, did it?" Harry asked. He hadn't mentioned what he'd seen the night they left Hogwarts to his friends yet. He wasn't sure why he was keeping it from them, other than him just thinking he'd imagined it and didn't want to sound crazy.

Hermione's head shook back and forth. "No. It's still sleeping. I'm wondering if there was something wrong with the animation spell."

"Anyway, I told you to go back to school so you could graduate. Not get expelled," Harry said, hotly.

"We were worried about you, Harry," Hermione told him. "We just wanted to be with you. This is the first time we haven't been together in six years."

"Yeah, mate, cut us some slack," Ron quipped.

Harry found that he couldn't stay mad at them for long. In fact, it felt rather good that both Ron - and especially Hermione - would go off on a teacher like that just for him.

"All right, then. The meeting went like this..."

Harry proceeded to recount everything that they had discussed that day, and told them about Remus' stance of working without the authority of the Ministry.

"About bloody time," Ron said. "Scrimgeour's acting more like that nutter Barty Crouch every day. He did the same thing, you know... allowing Unforgivables."

"Yeah, I remember," Harry said.

"I can't believe they killed Narcissa Malfoy," Hermione said. "It couldn't have been an accident. They must have done it because of Draco. The paper said that the whole house had been destroyed. They found her body out on the lawn." She shuddered. "The Prophet said it was almost as if someone had placed it there, pointing at the ruins."

"Sick," muttered Ron. "Don't get me wrong - the whole family is a bunch of evil, nasty Pure-blood maniacs, but she didn't need to get murdered just because Draco messed up."

"You don't know Voldemort," Harry said, quietly.

"Well, if Narcissa's dead, it probably means Draco is dead, too," Hermione said. "It's rather awful, really. If it wasn't for his parents, Draco may have turned out alright."

"Well, I guess we'll never know now," Harry said.

"Voldemort has Azkaban," Hermione whispered, shaking her head. "I still can't believe it. Things aren't going well, are they, Harry?"

"No," Harry said. "No, they're not. We could all really use Dumbledore right now."

And, gripping the golden locket around his neck, he hoped to God that somehow the portrait in McGonnagal's office could hear him.

A/N: Again, please remember that I haven't read "Deathly Hallows" yet, and DO NOT post SPOILERS. Thank you.