"So Snape was offering to help him? He was definitely offering to help him?"
"If you ask that once more," said Harry, "I'm going to stick this sprout-"
"I'm only checking!" said Ron. Ginny leaned into her Extendable Ear, trying to hear more clearly over the sound of the sink running. Mum had put Harry and Ron to work peeling a mountain of sprouts. They were engrossed in the task, as well as their conversation, which gave her the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop. She pushed away the tiny bit of guilt that tried to rear its ugly head as she refocused on the sound of Harry's voice.
"Yes, Snape was offering to help him!" Harry was saying in an emphatic tone. "It sounded like he was already helping him. He complimented Malfoy's Occlumency, and Malfoy said 'Just trust me, I've got everything under control. He'll have all the information he needs to fulfill the prophecy, and the repairs will be completed on time.' Sounds like Snape is in on it to me!"
"In on what, though? Repairing what?"
"He didn't say," Harry said, and even from Ginny's distance up the stairs, she recognized the bitterness in his tone. "It was like he didn't want Snape to know the details."
"Which, you have to admit, doesn't make a whole lot of sense if they're working together. Snape's been feeding information to the Order all this time - a new recruit like Malfoy would be bottom of the food chain in You-Know-Who's circle. Don't you think if it's important, Snape would know about it?"
Harry was silent for so long that Ginny had to double check that the Extendable Ear was still working. Finally, he said, "I don't know what Malfoy is up to, but I can only think of one prophecy that Voldemort would be interested in. And the Order still hasn't been able to find Trelawney. Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. Sounds like Malfoy thinks he's found a way for Voldemort to kill me."
Ginny's heart skipped a beat.
Ron laughed awkwardly. "Well, if he's as shit at assassination attempts as he is at Quidditch, I think you're safe." When Harry didn't laugh, he continued, "Are you going to tell Dumbledore what you heard Snape and Malfoy saying to each other?"
"Yep," said Harry. "I'm going to tell anyone who can put a stop to it, and Dumbledore's top of the list. I might have another word with your dad too."
"Pity you didn't hear what Malfoy's actually doing, though."
"I couldn't have done, could I? That was the whole point, he was refusing to tell Snape."
There was silence for a moment or two, then Ron said, "'Course, you know what they'll all say? Dad and Dumbledore and all of them? They'll say Snape isn't really trying to help Malfoy, he was just trying to find out what Malfoy's up to."
"They didn't hear him," said Harry flatly, and Ginny had to strain to hear the rest. "No one's that good an actor, not even Snape."
"Yeah... I'm just saying, though," said Ron.
"You think I'm right, though?" said Harry, his voice thick with accusation.
"Yeah, I do!" said Ron hastily. "Seriously, I do! But they're all convinced Snape's in the Order, aren't they?"
"Aaah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything. Bless them."
At the sound of Fred's voice, Ginny quickly retracted the Extendable Ear. She might be able to get past Harry and Ron, but the twins had a sixth sense when it came to all things mischief. She slowly rose to her feet and crept up the stairs, being sure to skip over the creaking one. She eased the door to her room open and only let out the breath she had been holding once she felt the door close behind her.
"Well, Arnold, what was that all about?" she asked the Pygmy Puff, who squeaked cheerfully upon her arrival. She crossed to her bedroom window and looked out at the yard, which was dusted in a lovely layer of snow. It was lightly snowing now, and Ginny's breath left condensation on the window.
What could Malfoy be up to? Contrary to Ron's words, he sounded skeptical of Harry's assertions. Ginny didn't quite know what to think, but just as she trusted the twins to sense mischief, she trusted Harry to sense danger. They didn't know enough about Malfoy's conversation with Snape to know what all it meant, but she trusted Harry's interpretation of the events enough to know it spelled trouble for the Order.
It was times like this that Ginny felt extra frustrated with being excluded from these conversations. Ron's half-hearted endorsement was as firm of support as Harry was going to get otherwise - she could just hear Hermione now: "Obviously, Harry, he was pretending to offer help so he could trick Malfoy into telling him what he's doing..." Harry needed someone standing firmly in his corner, and that someone was Ginny. Why couldn't Harry just accept that? Promises to Dumbledore be damned, she could be useful...
Deciding to put that usefulness to action, she began to turn Slughorn's Christmas party over in her mind, determined to look for any possible clue Harry might have missed. She had been having a lovely time with Harry, Luna, and Neville - Hermione would have joined them, but she was busy hiding out from a truly repulsive Cormac McLaggen. Professor Slughorn had been introducing them to a bunch of influential people all night. She had had to contain a squeal when she got to meet Donaghan Tremlett and Myron Wagtail of the Weird Sisters. She had been on her way to get some punch when Filch had dragged Malfoy in by the ear, getting him in trouble for attempting to crash the party.
She had avoided thinking about the punchbowl since it happened, as she didn't know what to make of it, only that it made her uncomfortable. When Malfoy had caught her glass, he had looked so...vulnerable. She turned the incident over in her mind, but that was the only word that seemed to fit. She had never seen him with such an open expression on his face, and in that moment of unguarded eye contact she had felt a weariness so heavy it had taken her breath away. She had tried snapping at him, but he was perfectly polite back, unnervingly so. He had only returned to his characteristic Malfoy sneer when Harry had walked up.
It must have something to do with what Harry overheard, she thought as she laid down on her bed, her arms behind her head. But what? What could make Malfoy so exhausted he forgets to be Malfoy?
She pondered for a while longer, but came up with no good candidates for what Malfoy could have been repairing, or any ideas on how to kill Harry that Voldemort wouldn't have already thought of. She even briefly considered the Rotfang Conspiracy before laughing at herself. Some things were just too outlandish to be true, no matter what Luna said.
It was only once she had well and truly run out of ideas that Mum called her downstairs for dinner and Ginny was forced to put Malfoy out of her mind.
The next morning, the entire Weasley clan plus Phlegm - er, Fleur - and Harry congregated around the kitchen table for breakfast. Ginny piled eggs onto her plate, her stomach grumbling in protest. The twins were making ready use of their magic and levitating the serving spoons around, haphazardly depositing beans on everyone's plates. Errol had arrived with the paper moments ago and was lapping tea weakly from a saucer next to George's elbow.
"Anyone we know dead?" Ron asked casually as Dad opened up the paper. Mr. Weasley frowned, skimming the pages.
"Yes, actually," he said, causing Ron to drop his fork. "Louise Abbott was found dead in her home last night - Killing Curse, according to the Aurors on the scene. Her daughter Hannah is in your year, isn't she?"
Ginny's stomach twisted terribly as Ron and Harry looked at each other, stunned.
"Who did it?" Harry demanded, his eyes piercing as he went to grab the paper. Mr. Weasley grimaced.
"Well, according to the Aurors... Stan Shunpike."
"What?" Harry said loudly. "The Knight Bus driver? He can't have."
"Maybe the Imperius Curse?" Fred offered, his fork stalled halfway to his mouth.
"Perhaps," Mr. Weasley said, though he sounded unconvinced. "Apparently, Stan was bragging in a pub about knowing insider information about the Death Eaters' activities, and then when they found Louise dead a few blocks over... Circumstantial evidence is as good as a confession if the Ministry is feeling desperate."
Seeming to decide he had said too much, Mr. Weasley returned to his plate, his face slightly red. Harry and Ron exchanged a dark look.
Ginny pushed her eggs around, her hunger forgotten. She felt vaguely nauseous at the thought of the morning Hannah must be having. Had she seen her mother's body? Did she hear the attack, or did she wake up for breakfast just as Ginny had, only to find that breakfast was never going to be right again?
The table descended into an awkward silence, finally broken by Mrs. Weasley asking Fleur something about wedding planning. As soon as Harry finished his plate and stood up, Ginny stood up too. She hurried to dump her eggs in the trash before following him outside. He walked to the edge of the Weasleys' yard and sat down atop the little stone half-wall, looking out at the land beyond.
"Why the Abbotts?" he said before Ginny could sit down. "And why only the mother? Hannah and her father were both home that night."
"I don't know, Harry," Ginny said softly. "Maybe she knew something important."
She sat next to him, letting her feet dangle. The stones were cold against her legs.
"They're not in the Order," Harry insisted. "They were just...normal. Just normal people. Why-" His voice broke off at that moment. Ginny reached down to grab his hand. He resisted for a moment before letting her, and when he did he held on so tightly that Ginny's hand ached.
"It's not your fault," she whispered.
"Yes it is," he said. "No matter how much I do, it's never enough. Innocent people are still getting hurt."
"You couldn't have stopped it, Harry. You couldn't have known-"
"How many more innocent people are going to die, Ginny? People I know? People I don't know? If the Ministry seriously thinks Stan Shunpike is a Death Eater, they don't stand a chance against the real thing."
Ginny said nothing. Her eyes lingered on the horizon, knowing that the Diggorys' home was just a few miles out of sight.
"How do I end it?" he said in a quiet voice, his shoulders shaking a bit. "How do I stop him?"
Ginny leaned her head on his shoulder and let him cry. They sat together for a long while, letting the winter wind blow around them as the sun rose.
Winter break passed quickly, though the mood of the house was subdued after the news about the Abbotts. On Christmas Eve, Ginny sat in the living room, making paper chains to decorate for tomorrow. Celestina Warbeck was playing on the radio, which delighted Mrs. Weasley and annoyed Fleur, a pleasing outcome in both regards. The house smelled lovely - cinnamon and pine and citrus. A roaring fire in the grate chased the cold away, the crackling of the logs a pleasant undertone throughout the family's conversations.
Fred and George started a game of Exploding Snap in the corner, which Ginny joined in after a couple of rounds. Remus was seated by the fire, staring pensively into it as Celestina sang "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love." Ginny watched him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what had him looking so sad. She knew the work of the Order weighed heavily on him, but he rarely looked this tired.
Her mind flashed on Malfoy for a moment - he had had that same sort of exhausted expression during Slughorn's Christmas party. He had held her gaze after giving her the glass back, almost like he was trying to tell her something. But what?
"You lose, Gin!" Fred said cheerfully as the cards exploded with a loud pop! Ginny jumped and shook her head, irritated that she had gotten distracted.
"Fine, fine," she mumbled as George began reshuffling the cards. She turned her gaze and saw Harry engrossed in serious conversation with her dad.
Looks like I'm not the only one with Malfoy on the brain.
Their conversation carried on for a while, with Remus joining in after a bit, but between the exploding cards, Celestina's warbling, and the fire, Ginny couldn't hear anything. Once Fleur began loudly imitating the radio, everyone collectively got the signal that it was time for bed.
The next day, Ginny happily slid her new Weasley sweater on over her pajamas. This was one of her favorite family traditions - it drew them all together. She hurried down the stairs to join her family, who had congregated around the kitchen table for an early Christmas lunch.
"Harry, you've got a maggot in your hair," Ginny said with a giggle, leaning across the table to pick it out. Harry shuddered and smiled at her.
"'Ow 'orrible," said Fleur.
"Yes, isn't it?" said Ron. "Gravy, Fleur?"
Ginny glared at Fleur as she and Mrs. Weasley began to argue about Tonks, who Ginny liked quite a lot.
I would much rather be getting Tonks for a sister-in-law. At least she knows how to have fun.
"Arthur!" said Mrs. Weasley suddenly. She had risen from her chair; her hand was pressed over her heart and she was staring out of the kitchen window. "Arthur-it's Percy!"
"What?"
Mr. Weasley looked around. Everybody looked quickly at the window; Ginny stood up for a better look. There, sure enough, was Percy, striding across the snowy yard, his horn-rimmed glasses glinting in the sunlight. He was not, however, alone.
"Arthur, he's - he's with the Minister!"
And sure enough, the man Ginny had seen in the Daily Prophet discussing Death Eater raids was following along in Percy's wake, limping slightly, his mane of graying hair and his black coat flecked with snow. Before any of them could say anything, before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley could do more than exchange stunned looks, the back door opened and there stood Percy.
There was a moment's painful silence. Ginny's heart was beating loudly in her ears. Then Percy said rather stiffly, "Merry Christmas, Mother."
"Oh, Percy!" said Mrs. Weasley, and she threw herself into his arms.
Rufus Scrimgeour paused in the doorway, leaning on his walking stick and smiling as he observed this affecting scene.
"You must forgive this intrusion," he said, when Mrs. Weasley looked around at him, beaming and wiping her eyes. "Percy and I were in the vicinity - working, you know - and he couldn't resist dropping in and seeing you all."
Yeah right.
But Percy showed no sign of wanting to greet any of the rest of the family. He stood, poker-straight and awkward-looking, and stared over everybody else's heads. Mr. Weasley, Fred, and George were all observing him, stony-faced.
"Please, come in, sit down, Minister!" fluttered Mrs. Weasley, straightening her hat. "Have a little purkey, or some tooding... I mean-"
"No, no, my dear Molly," said Scrimgeour. Ginny narrowed her eyes at Percy, who avoided her gaze. "I don't want to intrude, wouldn't be here at all if Percy hadn't wanted to see you all so badly..."
"Oh, Perce!" said Mrs. Weasley tearfully, reaching up to kiss him.
"... We've only looked in for five minutes, so I'll have a stroll around the yard while you catch up with Percy. No, no, I assure you I don't want to butt in! Well, if anybody cared to show me your charming garden... Ah, that young man's finished, why doesn't he take a stroll with me?"
The atmosphere around the table changed perceptibly. Everyone looked from Scrimgeour to Harry. Ginny looked down at her own clean plate and frowned. What did the Minister really want with Harry?
"Yeah, all right," said Harry into the silence. Ginny knew that scrutinizing look on his face - having been the target of the Ministry's displeasure all last year, he wasn't fooled by this supposedly friendly visit.
"It's fine," he said quietly, as he passed Lupin, who had half risen from his chair. "Fine," he added, as Mr. Weasley opened his mouth to speak.
"Wonderful!" said Scrimgeour, standing back to let Harry pass through the door ahead of him. "We'll just take a turn around the garden, and Percy and I'll be off. Carry on, everyone!"
Where's an Extendable Ear when you need one?
Distantly, she could hear the twins starting their well-known routine of riling Percy up, Mum's voice becoming shriller by the minute. Her eyes, however, were on the kitchen window looking out over the garden, where Harry and the Minister walked. Harry was gazing toward the house, an unhappy expression on his face as he listened to Scrimgeour. Could she possibly make up a reason to go out there, or would Harry tell her to go right back inside?
At that moment, Fred flung some of his parsnips at Percy, who had just been quite rude to Dad, and Ginny couldn't resist joining in.
Ginny packed her trunk carefully, Arnold chirping on her shoulder as she folded her robes. They were returning to Hogwarts in a few hours and the Ministry had arranged for a one-off Floo Network connection to the Burrow for everyone's safety. Her mind flashed on Scrimgeour's scarred face smiling at her parents just over a week ago. It was such a sharp contrast from how Fudge had treated Harry, and by extension the Weasleys, that it still made her head spin a bit. Harry had been tight-lipped about his meeting, only saying that Scrimgeour wanted him to publicly support the Ministry. The Minister's visit had ended quickly afterward, seeing as Percy had flounced out of the house with rage after the parsnip incident.
Serves him right, the pompous idiot, she thought as she grabbed her favorite socks and slid them into her trunk. Mum had cried horribly when Percy left. It would have been better if he had never come at all.
Knock knock.
Ginny bounced to her feet and opened the door.
"Well this is familiar," she said with a grin to Harry, who for some reason didn't smile back. Her smile dropping, she opened the door wider to allow him into the room. He walked straight to her bed and sat down, his hands laced tightly together in his lap.
"What's wrong?" she asked, coming to sit next to him. "Is it the Daily Prophet? I didn't see-"
"It's not the Prophet," he said. "It's...I don't know how to say this."
Ginny stayed silent, alarmed. When Harry stayed silent too, she gingerly put her hand on his knee. "Then what's wrong?"
He looked up at her and held her gaze, his green eyes blazing.
"Ginny, you're wonderful," he said. "One of the most wonderful things that's ever happened to me. And that's why this is so hard." He sped up as he talked, letting the words out in a great rush, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "Things are getting bad out there - the Abbotts are proof of that - and they're going to keep getting worse until we can end Voldemort. If he finds out we're together-"
"I don't-" Ginny started but Harry was having none of it. He talked louder, over her.
"Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to. He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you're my best friend's sister. Think how much danger you'll be in-"
"Are you breaking up with me?" Ginny blurted, unwilling to be silenced. Harry bowed his head.
"No, not exactly," he said, a faint splotchiness creeping up his neck. "It's been like... like something out of someone else's life, these last few months with you. But if you were to get hurt, Ginny, it would kill me. It would kill me. So... I'm asking if things can return to the way they were before. I know you said you were done with secrets-"
"You're unbelievable," Ginny said, rising to her feet. "All I do, time and time again, is try to prove to you that I can help you, that you don't need to be strong for me, we can lean on each other... but you just push me away, over and over and over again. It's like you're not listening to me at all."
"And I told you," Harry said, standing up too, "that the way you can help me is by being happy and living an ordinary life. Do you know how much I would give to do that? To live an ordinary life? It's not in the cards for me, Ginny, but I don't have to drag you down with me."
"Oh, but dragging down Ron and Hermione is fine?" she said, near tears now. "They can know everything, be involved in everything, but if it's your girlfriend-"
"You know it's different-"
"No, Harry, I don't know it's different. But here's what I do know. I meant what I said before. It's either everything, or it's nothing. And I guess this means it's nothing."
Harry blanched, but Ginny stayed firm. "I'm not going to be anyone's secret, Harry. Get out."
He did, slamming the door behind him, his angry footfalls echoing up the stairs. It was only when she heard Ron's door slam several floors above that she let herself break down and sob.
Severus Snape Apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, his breath misting in the cold winter air as he landed. The lights of the castle twinkled against the night sky, looking for all the world like something out of a fairy tale. But Severus knew this wasn't a fairy tale. This was a long, never-ending nightmare.
Snow crunched under his feet as he passed through the front entrance to the grounds, the iron gate swinging open slowly to let him pass. The students had returned to school today; the spring term would start tomorrow. Speaking to the Headmaster tonight was essential. The Dark Lord had kept an unnervingly close watch on him after that disaster of a Christmas party, so he had been unable to excuse himself from the Riddle manor until the winter break was over.
With a quick wave of his wand, the front doors to the castle opened, the murmur of students' voices washing over him along with the warmth emanating from the building. He walked quickly toward the Headmaster's Tower, his footfalls echoing sharply against the stone floor. The glow of the lights in the Great Hall contrasted with the relative shadow of the front entrance, Severus's footfalls heading in the opposite direction of the students leaving dinner for their dormitories.
Ever since the Dark Lord's holiday gathering, Severus had been fighting a persistent low-level panic, one he had had to shove down so deep that even the Dark Lord couldn't see it. But now that he was away from the Death Eaters, he could feel it rising up from his stomach, his heartbeat quickening with every step he took.
The Headmaster would know what to do. Just as he always did, he would tell Severus what steps to take, what path to follow, in order to walk the tightrope that had become his life. One slip, even for a second, could be fatal, and he had never been as close to slipping as he had been at Malfoy Manor.
We will have to hope that Ginny Weasley has more sense than Lily Potter ever did.
The words had been like a gut punch, which of course the Dark Lord had intended. Severus had carefully climbed the ranks, becoming one of Voldemort's favorites, but even those closest to him were not immune to his cruel sense of humor. He had never imagined his most desperate secret being dragged to the light all these years later, and certainly not in front of two dozen Death Eaters. He had had to do damage control for over a week after that, telling anyone who dared question his loyalties how very little he thought of the mudblood Lily Potter, how his misguided, youthful desire had been nothing more than a wish to humiliate James even in death.
Lies, all of it lies!
But they had believed him. It was what they wanted to hear anyway. All except perhaps Lucius Malfoy, whose eyes had taken on a strange kind of fire after the Dark Lord had dismissed the party for the evening. Draco had rushed out of the room the instant permission had been granted, and Severus had been unable to come up with a reasonable excuse for returning to the manor unbidden by the Dark Lord. No matter - the boy was back at Hogwarts now, and they would have plenty of time to discuss things in their private lessons.
He stopped before the gargoyle at last, his pulse pounding in his ears.
"Treacle tart," he said, and the gargoyle obediently hopped aside, allowing Severus to ascend the spiral staircase.
Albus Dumbledore had his back to him when he entered. The Headmaster was looking out the large windows behind his desk, his hands folded behind his back. Severus grimaced at the sight of the blackness on Albus's right hand.
It's spreading already.
"Ah, Severus," Albus said, turning and smiling at him. "I was hoping I would see you tonight. Please, sit down."
The two men sat, Severus reminded suddenly of his own years as a Hogwarts student. He had sat in this chair more than once, James Potter in the other one, and received gentle but firm admonishment about Hogwarts' supposed "zero tolerance" for bullying. It wasn't true then and it wasn't true now.
"I had to come here immediately, Headmaster. I was unable to leave any sooner."
"Ah yes, as I understand it, Voldemort had quite the gathering of Death Eaters over the holiday," Albus said, waving his wand and summoning a decanter of firewhisky along with two glasses. Severus watched the glasses fill up but did not drink. He instead offered a curt nod to Albus.
"Yes, unlike any he has had since the First War," Severus said as Albus sipped his firewhisky. "The Death Eaters already grow restless, hiding in the Ministry's shadow. He had to give them some sense of importance, some sense that he cares for them." He couldn't stop the disgust from creeping into his voice.
"What did you learn?" Albus asked, not unkindly.
"Dolohov believes he's making some progress at the Aurors' office - someone named Dawlish, he said. You should alert Shacklebolt. If Pius Thicknesse were to fall-"
"Then Rufus is just a short tumble behind him," Albus finished, turning the glass in his good hand. Severus nodded again, relieved to be speaking to someone who understood things as he did. His was an isolating existence - even when he was able to speak honestly, he often felt multiple steps ahead of the other party. But not with Albus.
"Macnair is doing some kind of experiment with the Imperius Curse," Severus continued, "but it sounded very much in the theoretical stages. I was unfortunately unable to hear most of his report, as I was sent out of the room."
"Oh?"
Severus' lip curled. "The Dark Lord thinks me a most competent babysitter." Albus's smile turned sad.
"Did she survive?"
"Not this time, I'm afraid."
Albus sighed and looked down. "Unfortunate, but probably for the best. You're sure the poison will be undetectable?"
"Absolutely. If I could have used more, I would have, and she would have been dead before the fall term started, but it would have raised too many questions for anyone inspecting the body."
Albus nodded. "I trust your judgment, Severus." He moved to stand, but Severus interrupted him.
"There's more, Headmaster. Trelawney issued a third prophecy before she died."
"Did she now?" Albus said with a raised eyebrow, sitting back down. "Just as cryptic as the others?"
"No, unfortunately this one was oddly specific." Severus briefly recounted the events of the night - Trelawney prophesizing uncontrollably and without any prompting, the Death Eaters jockeying for power, the Dark Lord's unfortunate conclusions regarding Ginevra Weasley, and Draco's Occlumency slip-up. Unable to bear it just yet, needing to hear Albus's reassurances, he avoided his own personal connection to the story. Albus stayed quiet for a moment, his blue eyes piercing as he held Severus's gaze. Severus cautiously lowered his Occlumency shields, in case Albus wanted to see the events for himself.
"Well this is certainly unexpected," he said finally. "You said the atmosphere in the room changed when Sybill was speaking?"
It was Severus's turn to raise his eyebrows - of all the potentially consequential details to pick out...
"Yes, it felt like it does during a thunderstorm," he said slowly. "The air was electric. But it disappeared as soon as she passed."
"Most puzzling," Albus said, and appeared to drift off into thought.
"Doesn't this concern you at all?" he snapped, losing patience with Albus' eccentrics. "Not the air pressure, the prophecy itself! The Dark Lord believes he has all the information he needs to summon the Hallows. You said-"
"I know very well what I said, Severus," Albus said, his tone a bit sharp. "If Voldemort were to possess the Hallows, particularly at this stage, that would be disastrous for us all. But this prophecy of Sybill's strikes me as unusual, compared to the others. All may not be as it appears. Regardless, even if the prophecy's information is correct, it is just that - information. Voldemort lacks the means to carry it out."
"Draco Malfoy-"
"Was absolutely horrified to learn of Ginny's potential involvement by your own account, Severus," Albus said, a bemused twinkle entering his eye. Severus glared at him - how could he find anything humorous at a time like this? "By all means, keep an eye on him, but do you really believe he'll somehow be able to convince Ginny Weasley to help him in Voldemort's cause? She would rather die than betray Harry, or her family."
Severus stiffened.
"I've said something to upset you."
So softly, barely more than a whisper, Severus said, "He compared them."
"Compared who?"
Severus growled in frustration. "Are you going to make me say it? Lily. The Dark Lord practically called it history repeating itself, he made Draco the same...offer...he did to me, all those years ago, and said that he hoped Ginny Weasley would have more sense than Lily Potter ever did. And I'm supposed to take consolation in the fact that, according to you, she apparently has the exact same amount of sense, that she would make exactly the same decision-" His voice cut off, emotion rising up and tightening around his throat. Albus smiled at him and put his hand over top of Severus's, causing the younger man to flinch.
"She won't ever need to make that decision, Severus," Albus said, and Severus was ashamed to find that he was shaking. "We will protect the Hallows if that will alleviate your stress, but I am certain that Ginny Weasley will never aid Lord Voldemort again. The events in the Chamber left a remarkable impact on her. No, what this tells me is that I must redouble my work with Harry. We will be running out of time shortly, if we haven't already."
"And I don't suppose you'll finally deign to tell me what you're running out of time for?"
"That, unfortunately, is between myself and Harry for the time being."
Severus glowered but did not argue. After a moment, he said, "You said we will protect the Hallows if that will alleviate my stress. You know where they are?"
"Oh, certainly," Albus said with a casual wave of his firewhisky, as though they were discussing the Quidditch season. "I have two of them, and Harry has the third."
"What?" Severus sputtered. "When Draco said- I never actually believed-"
"Unusually perceptive, that boy. I would be curious to learn where he's been getting his information. But it doesn't matter now, I suppose. Lord Voldemort knows, in any event, of at least two, and I suspect he will discover I possess the third very shortly. There is no safer place for them than Hogwarts."
"Does Potter know?"
"No, and I don't intend to tell him, I don't think. It will only distract him."
"You should take the cloak from him - he is careless with it, Draco already caught him with it once-"
"I will caution him, but it is best the cloak stays with him."
"But if you had all three-"
"Then I would in theory be the Master of Death, yes," Albus said, an interesting note of bitterness creeping into his voice. "I dare not take it, Severus. I proved to myself long ago that I was unworthy to unite the Hallows, and proved it again last summer."
"Last summer? But... the ring..."
"Yes," said Albus gloomily. "Most foolish of me. But I will not make that mistake again. The Hallows will stay where they are, with some additional protections. I will ask Tonks to keep an eye on Ginny Weasley, and you will continue to monitor Draco. Find out where he is with the Vanishing Cabinet - we'll want to increase the Order's presence here if he thinks he is getting close."
"...Yes, Headmaster."
Severus turned to leave, but before he could enter the stairwell, Albus's voice stopped him.
"Do you believe the boy truly cares for her, Severus?"
Severus paused, his back to Albus. Looking over his shoulder, he said, "His thoughts appear to indicate so, but he has...surprised me, with his abilities. Legilimency against him is no longer a perfect measure of truth. Why?"
Albus chuckled. "He proving to be too good a student? That's a problem you rarely have." When Severus said nothing, Albus continued, "I suppose I can see what Lord Voldemort meant, about history. A young Death Eater pining after a red-haired girl on the opposite side of a brewing war, in love with his mortal enemy, Potter... We should encourage it, I think. Anything that keeps Draco connected to his humanity is a good thing, and will only help us."
"If you expect me to play matchmaker-" Severus sneered.
"I said nothing of the sort," Albus interrupted. "Merely that genuine human connection should be encouraged."
Severus struggled not to roll his eyes as he faced the stairs again and began to head back down the tower.
"I don't think history repeats itself, Severus," Albus called after him, "but sometimes I rather think it rhymes."
A/N: This one took me a little bit, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, particularly the Severus section. Longest chapter yet! Several chapters from canon are adapted here, including Chapter Sixteen: A Very Frosty Christmas from HBP and a small chunk of Chapter Thirty: The White Tomb, also from HBP. Curious to hear your thoughts on where the story could be heading next!