Chapter 2: Festina Lente ~ Hurry Slowly

Hermione let the group handle the next stage of planning. There wasn't much she could add to at that point. They needed to figure out where Voldemort went, what the remaining horcruxes were, where they were, and assess how the new development may have shifted the calculus of each side of the conflict. Sitting on a wooden chair on the porch, Hermione looked out over the water. It was a calm night. A contrast to the complete upheaval roiling around them. The back screen door squeaked announcing the arrival of another into her self-imposed isolation.

The person didn't speak, they slipped into the chair next to her. She didn't have to look in his direction to know it was Harry. Something about the time they had spent alone together had developed an ability to sense each other, anticipate each other's needs and actions.

"You could have told me what you were planning," he started.

"Would you have let me go?"

A long breath escaped him. She finally looked at him. He was clearly conflicted. There weren't many instances over the past year where they felt like they had any control over their situation; however, this new reality was different. "No," he answered simply. Let the confession hang in the air for several minutes. "I guess we're not breaking into Gringotts."

A genuine laugh escaped her. Some of her stress was relieved. "I saw Bill left with Griphook not too long ago. We still have the sword?"

"It didn't leave my sight until Griphook did," Harry answered firmly. It was the most critical weapon they had. "He wasn't happy about it."

What else could be said Hermione wondered.

"When I couldn't find you, I didn't know what to do. I was terrified," his voice was thick with emotion.

Trying to imagine the fear she would have felt if Harry had mysteriously disappeared, she swallowed down a lump in her throat. "I'm sorry. I thought about leaving a note. I started one. I didn't know how to explain any of it."

"Did he touch you?"

The question was such an abrupt shift, it took Hermione several beats to figure out what he meant. Looking down, she saw the marks on her wrist, it was more swollen than she remembered. Instinctively she knew that wasn't what he meant. She felt her cheeks flushing thinking about how she let Voldemort kiss her neck. Looking away from Harry, she waited until the heat eased before turning back. "He kissed me. I had to let him, let him get close enough so he wouldn't see the knife. Wouldn't see it coming."

"How far were you going to let it go?"

At that she got angry. "I wasn't going to sleep with him. If that's what you're asking."

He ran his hand through his hair. "That's not what I meant. I don't know what I meant." Harry reached out and took her left hand in his. He looked at her wrist. "Hermione, this looks bad."

"It's fine," she said and tried to pull her hand away. A hiss of pain undercut her words.

"You did this to save me?"

"Partially," she admitted. "Mostly. The more we planned the Gringotts break-in, knowing he already had the elder wand… it seemed like all we were working toward had an expiration date. It was clear we needed more time. The only way to get that was to change the rules."

"I know I wasn't quiet about my concern for you after Bellatrix tortured you. I thought you trusted me enough to eventually tell me what you were struggling with."

The hurt was as clear. "I do trust you. I just didn't know how to tell you everything. I didn't have a solution."

"And now you do?"

With that she let out a sigh. "No. I'm not even sure I made the situation better."

"It's hard to imagine how the situation could be worse. I've learned never to underestimate you though," he said and nudged her arm. Trying to inject some levity in the terrible situation. "I understand how you got in. How did you get out?"

He may not have known it, but he had managed to ask the one question that would test her conviction that she trusted him. Snape was clearly a double agent. The risk to his life would exponentially increase the more people were aware of his secrets. On top of that, as far as Harry was concerned, the man murdered Albus Dumbledore. It might be easier to convince Luna that the Crumple-Horned Snorkack didn't exist than it would be to convince Harry that Snape was on their side.

"Hermione?" Harry seemed to pick up on the conflict within her.

"This is going to be hard to accept. Just hear me out completely before you decide I'm wrong. Snape helped me escape. I didn't see how, but he blocked off the room I was in when the Death Eaters figured out something was wrong, showed me the escape route, and sent a patronus message to Arthur to explain what had happened. He's still working for the Order," she explained and saw his head shaking in an effort to ward off her words. "Harry, yes. Was it a doe that Ron said led you to the sword of Gryffindor? That's his patronus. I saw it."

"No. He killed Professor Dumbledore."

"He did. He gave me his memories that explained why he did. Dumbledore was dying. The curse, in his hand, was killing him. Dumbledore made Snape promise to intercede for Draco and cement his loyalty in the minds of every Death Eater who had been doubting his allegiance. It was premeditated. By Professor Dumbledore."

Hermione wondered if she'd need to share those memories with Harry to convince him. Her words did seem to be working their way through his defenses. None of that excused Snape's years of bullying Harry. Dumbledore hadn't asked Snape to do that. "I think he's the one who Mister Weasley is going to ask to enter the vault and look for the Horcrux. If he had the sword, he'd have been part of making the copy. And I told him about the snake," she confessed. "If he helps us destroy two horcruxes, will that convince you? Technically three, since he's the reason we have the sword and were able to destroy the one in the locket."

"You'd think I'd get used to how quickly everything we thought was true can be turned upside down. It's like standing on bloody quick sand," he said. It was his turn to be angry.

There were plenty of reasons to be angry. All the things Dumbledore had kept from him. How could it not feel like a betrayal? "I am sorry, Harry."

"Don't be sorry for telling me the truth. That's never something you need to apologize for," he told her. When she wouldn't meet his eyes, he gently rested her chin on the crook of his finger, and turned her head toward him. "You scared the hell out of me. I couldn't find you and then you showed up on the beach covered in blood. Please don't ever do that again either."

"I can promise I will always tell you the truth, but I can't promise I won't go off again if I think it will save your life." That was the truth. She loved Harry, she knew that. How much she loved him terrified her. It was what had compelled her to risk so much and she would do it again.

"I know."

His words were so quiet and she was so engrossed in her thoughts she wasn't sure what he was referring to. The confusion increased when he was pulling her up to her feet. There was something in his eyes, a look she had seen a lot in recent months when she would catch him watching her in the tent. He worried too much. "I can take care of myself."

"I know."

If he knew, why was he still looking at her like that? she wondered. "I told you I'm not turning back. That decision was made a long time ago." The memories under the beech tree after Dumbledore's service replayed in her head a lot. Harry had been so surprised she and Ron weren't going to let him go on alone. If he was about to tell her to leave him now, he'd learn some things about her loyalty.

"I know."

"Harry…"

Before she could say more, he was kissing her. The action shocked her so much she just stood there for a few seconds. She felt his hand reach up, cradle the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. Then her body responded before her brain could catch up. Their tongues danced around each other, his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She didn't want his touch to end. It felt like a cold flame leaving trails on her skin. The pleasure of the tingle wasn't like anything she had experienced before.

Harry pulled back, continuing to hold her close while he searched her eyes, trying to gauge her reaction.

For her part, Hermione was trying to catch her breath and process not just what had happened but what it meant.

"I love you," she finally said.

"I know," Harry told her with a small laugh. "I love you too."

"I didn't know that," she said and then realized how that sounded. "I mean I knew you loved me. I just thought you loved me as a best friend."

"Like how I love Ron?" he asked, looked toward the house. "I haven't kissed him, but I'm pretty sure it's not the same."

"Harry," she groaned at the teasing. Her arms wrapped around him, and she rested her head on his shoulder, his aftershave tickled her nose. She didn't want the warmth and protection she felt standing there with him to ever end. His heart beat against hers. Somewhere in there was a piece of Voldemort's soul. She would make it her mission to destroy it. It wouldn't be easy, maybe impossible. The only way to destroy a Horcrux while leaving the vessel intact was for the person who made it to feel remorse. That was different than regret and she knew it. It wasn't something she could force Voldemort to feel.

Suddenly several pops sounded announcing the arrival of others. The sound made her jump. Harry's embrace tightened in response. "I think it's just Arthur," he said in her ear.

They both pulled away from each other to look. It suddenly felt cold where Harry had been touching her. As she stepped to the side to keep from being found out by the elder Weasley, Harry surprised her by reaching out and taking her hand in his.

As the forms approached the shield, it was clear there were two people. "Shit," Harry said under his breath when Snape stepped over the protections.

"Try to be civil," she warned. "He saved my life."

"I will if he does."

Hermione rolled her eyes, stepped forward to act as some sort of human shield between the two.

"Miss Granger," Snape acknowledged her. "You're looking more yourself."

She wasn't sure what his reaction would be now that several hours had passed and the ramifications amongst Voldemort's followers would be spreading like a wildfire.

"We need to be brief. I have to get back to Hogwarts. This school is at risk," Snape continued. He seemed uncertain about walking into the cottage.

Arthur gave a curt nod and led the way. Hermione and Harry followed behind. The reaction from Bill made it obvious that Snape's roll as a spy had been a successfully guarded secret. It took Arthur time to explain to Ron and Bill. Hermione watched Snape backup near the door. Ready to make an exit if needed.

No one seemed happy with the explanation, but time was of the essence and everyone sensed they didn't have the luxury of processing hurt feelings. That was until Ron caught sight of Harry holding Hermione's hand. The look of surprise and hurt made Hermione drop Harry's hand and step aside. Harry looked down at her hand and then up. She watched him stand a little straighter, meeting the silent accusations from his best friend. There would be a lot to repair when this day was over.

Not wanting to make matters worse, Hermione picked a chair on the opposite side of the table from Harry. Everyone else in the room found a seat. Snape stepped up to the head of the table and put a golden chalice down. Harry's hand flew up to his scar.

"The snake is dead," Snape started. "I don't have a way to destroy this though."

Hurt feelings were forgotten. Ron, Harry, and Hermione all shared excited looks. Another Horcrux destroyed. "We have the sword," Harry said, paused. "I understand that's thanks to you."

It wasn't an expression of gratitude, just a statement of fact. Hermione didn't expect Harry to embrace the man who made his school years unnecessarily adversarial.

"Good," the older man said. "I can't linger. Suspicions are increasing against me and I fear the Death Eaters are planning to attack the school to find me. The Carrows also need to be dispatched."

"We need to go there," Hermione interrupted. "The last Horcrux is there. Somewhere. And we can help defend the school."

"The Order is already gathering in Hogsmeade, Remus and Tonks are organizing the communications. Aberforth has maintained a secret entrance into the castle," Arthur explained. "We need to decide if everyone should focus their efforts there or if some members should be tasked with searching for what's left of You-Know-Who."

It was a good point. Hermione feared one of two things would happen now that Voldemort was without a body again. Either he would go into hiding and would pose a constant unknown threat or he'd find someone to possess. The sooner they found him, the sooner they'd have a strategy for dealing with him. "I think he'll go to his hiding places. The ones he can get to. To ensure his Horcruxes are safe. He might even think those locations are sufficiently protected."

Harry nodded. "Someone should go to the cave and to the Gaunt shack. Finding him might not be the problem. How do you contain a bodiless soul?"

No one had an answer. Or maybe they did know the answer. The soul needed a body.

"I think we should concentrate on the school," Arthur decided. "I'm not sure what good it will do to find You-Know-Who and it puts those searching for him at risk. We'll deal with the immediate threat. That's to the school."

The group didn't have to be told twice. Everyone stood.

"I'll go ahead," Snape said. "Alone. I suggest someone destroy that immediately."

Harry looked at the cup Snape was pointing toward. "We'll take care of it."

With a curt nod, Snape left with purpose. Bill and Fleur began to confer with each other, it looked like Bill was trying to convince the Veela to stay at the cottage. The request seemed to be going over as well as all the times Ron suggested Hermione stay behind.

Mister Weasley seemed to sense the situation was none of his business. "Grab whatever potions you have and meet me at the Hog's Head," he told the group.

Ron turned and looked like he was leaving himself. "Ron," Hermione said but didn't know what to say. Her friend turned back around.

"I'm going to get the sword. We put it in your bag after Griphook left," his tone was icy.

Harry offered a sympathetic look. He seemed to sense it wasn't the time to address the erumpent in the room.

"I have potions," Fleur announced. "Let me gather zem and we can go."

One argument was clearly over, Hermione thought. She picked up the cup, held it in her hand and rolled it around. "Helga Hufflepuff."

"That leaves Ravenclaw or Gryffindor," Harry said. "We should find the Ravenclaws when we get to Hogwarts to ask them what to look for."

Ron took that moment to put the sword down on the table. He wasn't gentle with it. Hermione tried to ignore his behavior. She really couldn't blame him. When he left the tent the night of the argument over the sword he had accused her of choosing Harry. Implying she wasn't choosing him. She had been so conflicted in that moment. Abandoning Harry was never an option. It wasn't for the reasons Ron had implied that night. That had changed. Clearly. Something happened during the weeks it had been just her and Harry. It had been just them, trying to survive together. During that time, she realized the silly notions she had about relationships were based on teenage immaturity. Real love was mutual respect and genuine friendship she shared with Harry. It wasn't supposed to be emotion-filled reactions that caused someone to lash out. Jealousy wasn't love or a manifestation of love. It was a manifestation of someone's insecurities.

The contrast couldn't have been more clear between the two relationships. Ron leaving was the space she needed to understand the differences. Still, it hadn't been the reason she chose Harry that night. Ron would likely never believe that explanation. "Do you want to do it?" she asked the redhead. Trying to be deferential.

"You should do it. You haven't destroyed one yet," Ron said and then considered her. "Although you did murder someone today already."

"Ron," Harry said forcefully. "I know we have things to talk about, but we don't have time for this."

"Right. Just take the cup outside. I like this room," Ron replied coolly. "I'm going to get our stuff."

At a loss, Hermione looked to Harry. "I've given him so many chances. And every time, he hurt me. He has no right to be angry that I'm done being treated like that." Harry stepped up to her and rubbed her neck. "That's not love. Whatever he thinks we have. It was never love," she continued. "He doesn't have a right to me." Cup in hand she headed for the door. "I don't belong to him." She took the sword from Harry and looked at him expectantly.

Harry stared at the chalice now on the ground at his feet. He seemed to feel a connection to it. As soon as he spoke in parseltongue a black cloud started to pour from the opening.

Without hesitation, Hermione stepped up and ran it through to the ground with the blade before any images or words manifested themselves. She handed the sword back to Harry. "I don't belong to anyone," she concluded, not missing a beat.

Amused, Harry gave her a nod. "Copy that."