16 November 1998.

She wanted to go to the library; he told her he was better. Books had never failed her; he said that bits of parchment and ink had never been there. She didn't have the energy to argue, and he wouldn't have taken her answer. She surrendered.

Thus, nearly two hours later, she found herself discussing death over tea. Sheer habit kept her spine straight and her ankles crossed, though she couldn't feel her legs. She was surprised that she felt civilized and wondered if the feeling came from tea or habit. It didn't matter though, because Harry was talking, and she wasn't so proud as to ignore his experience.

"Everyone has that one spell they favor. That goes for the Order as well as Death Eaters. Bellatrix uses the Cruciatus, she likes to play with her food before she eats it. Lucius Malfoy aims to kill. Dolohov created his own, and it causes massive internal injury. I prefer Expelliarmus. Neville is particularly fond of Petrificus Totalus - he's been quite attached to it ever since you used it so effectively against him towards the end of our first year. You need to know the Death Eaters though. You also need to find something that works for you, that you are confident with, that you are flawless with, and that will let you sleep at night."

His eyes were hooded, and as she nodded, she wondered if he had ventured from his Expelliarmus before. She supposed he had, and she wondered whether she'd be able to sleep tonight. She tilted her head, pondering her own repertoire of spells. In that fight, she'd gone in cold, with only classroom knowledge and an unclear vision of combat. She had fought poorly and panicked, and all she knew is that spells had left her wand. She only remembered killing a man. She shivered, clenched her fists, and forcibly returned to the present. She conjured parchment and summoned a quill as she took the words from his mouth and made them concrete.

Expelliarmus won't work for me. Neville should be careful with Petrificus Totalus, we don't know who can do wandless magic. Unforgivable is Unforgiveable. Boils? Distracting, not necessarily dangerous. Deprimo? Perhaps strong wind could be beneficial., but it could also throw our spells off.. The Entrail-Expelling curse is out. I'm not giving them more of my humanity. Boils aren't enough. Bat-Bogey isn't enough. Hmm.

She sighed and ran a hand through the mess of curls that hung from her head in quiet chaos. She desperately wanted a shower but was afraid to dedicate the time. Harry kept talking and she still wanted the knowledge of her books. In a back corner of her mind, she began putting together a list of titles that might help. With the rest, she focused her attention on the rhythm of his voice.

"…what we know regarding Death Eater dynamics. There is the Inner Circle. Snape, Bellatrix, Lucius, Dolohov, Wormtail. Sectumsempra, Crucio, Avada Kedava, his own creation, and Wormtail usually reverts back to a rat and hides. The first four are his best fighters, his most trusted. Wormtail got there by necessity when he brought Voldemort back. Of course, Snape is his Potions Master as well.

"Bella is mad. She's dangerous, but she's mad. There isn't a method to that kind of mad. She thrives on her own pain and she lives to cause it, but her world is consumed by Him, and she comes a bit… err, more unhinged if you can keep her attention long enough to attack her relationship with him verbally.

"Words won't sway Malfoy. Generations of perfect Pureblood customs mean nothing can be said to make him bat an eye. He's not as fast as Bella, but I reckon he's a bit saner, though that isn't a good thing. He's also overconfident, and he can get careless if things don't go as planned. Be ready to move, though. He has a good aim.

"Dolohov is bad news. He's fast, he's nearly sane, but he's one-dimensional with that curse of his own creation. He doesn't like change and he doesn't do it well. Something else we've noticed is that he hates to fight in the rain, which makes Moody think he suffers from old injuries and one too many times with Cruciatus. Moody has people researching that angle.

"We don't know as much about the Outer Circle, but they're deadly, just as much as the Inner Circle because they want to be the Inner Circle, and they're willing to do whatever it takes to get there. The hardest part about them is that the Outer Circle constantly changes between promotions, demotinos, and death. They do the dirty work, so they have a really high casualty rate, but they're pretty much interchangeable. There's always someone else to take the dead guy's place."

Yes, this made sense. She was intimately familiar with Dolohov; he frequented her nightmares when her mind chose to revisit the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.

Harry continued to speak as the sun fell from the sky. Watching him, she mourned the boy who died sometime in the last few months and marveled at the man in his place. The who took his place spoke articulately and authoritatively, most notably when he spoke of war and tactics. He paced when he lectured, but he was calm and he was confident, and she could hear truth in the inflections of his words. He'd fought and killed and nearly died, and these truths helped him stay alive. His voice melted into her memory in a way she knew she'd never forget, and she regretted it just a bit because someday, she knew she'd want to.

They both started as people flocked to the house, and it was only then that Hermione caught sight of the clock. 7:00 meant that Harry had talked through lunch and that day jobs were over. She didn't mind. She hadn't been hungry since she'd vomited her lunch the day before, and the thought of a public meal made her stomach twist.

"That's enough for today, I think." She nodded. She wanted books and a bath and quiet and peace, though she was ready to settle for the first three.

"Harry…when is Ron due home?" Harry's expression darkened. In a moment, the soldier vanished and gave way to a little boy who was afraid of losing his best friend. Suddenly, he didn't seem so tall and his shoulders didn't seem so broad. His face was pale and his cheekbones were too prominent. It seemed odd that his voice didn't waver, as though it didn't match the mouth that it came from.

"Three days. Kingsley hasn't owled me with the report from today. That was due at four this afternoon."

She nodded, grim and drawn.

"I'll be upstairs. Harry…the RA delays the pain for convenience. Do the Aurors have anything that accelerates the process"

He was surprised, but he was too preoccupied for surprise to steal his expression, when he spoke, he hesitated because he didn't want to answer.

"It's tightly controlled. They say it's excruciating and highly addictive. And… the longer you take it, the more it takes of your life."

"I don't have time to do this the normal way, and I can handle it. It's mind over matter, and you know I can use it appropriately." There was acid in her voice and stone in her eyes and she was ashamed of the bitter residue that the words left on her tongue.

"I'll talk to Kingsley as soon as I see him." The boy was gone, again. Like the accelerant, five minutes of conversation had taken five years from his life, and it showed in new creases between his eyes and near his lips. These weren't happy lines, but it was war and you did what you had to, to stay alive.

:D Good times. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! I'm going to try and stay on my one-a-day schedule for as long as I can, but my manager at my fun job is officially on vacation, and as assistant manager, I get all of her fun, and all of my own. It's going to be a long week, but we're starting a countdown: Only 5 more 80 hour weeks! *dancedanceDANCE*

Yours,
Threnody