Hand and Heart

[Aurinko]

Summary: Minerva McGonagall has been Albus Dumbledore’s right hand for more than half a century. Voldemort cannot cut off the head of the Order, but how much damage could he do by cutting off the hand—or cutting out the heart? AD/MM, also starring Severus and Aberforth.

Chapter One: Dangerous Discoveries

[/center]

“Another whiskey, Abe!” the brown-haired wizard roared, waving his empty glass about wildly. Aberforth took no time in delivering another shot of Ogden’s and helping himself to the man’s remaining sickles. He would be surprised if the man was sober enough to even raise the glass to his lips. A small smile played upon his lips as he heard a soft crash and a loud curse behind him.

Back behind the bar counter, Aberforth glanced around the room dispassionately. At three in the morning, the only customers left were those too drunk to make it out. He would give them another half an hour to get themselves out of his bar, and then he would forcibly remove those remaining.

Twenty minutes later, all but one of his customers had gone home. A simple levitating charm dropped the drunken wizard in the centre of the street, and a few quick spells tidied up the room and closed the shutters. They would be arriving shortly.

A tiny ‘pop’ heralded the arrival of his brother, punctual as always.

“Albus.”

“Aberforth.” They stood together in silence. Aberforth took a moment to sneak an appraising glance at his brother—his brother, who had been on the run from the Ministry for a few weeks now. Physically, Albus was fine, but Aberforth could tell that the prolonged separation from his precious school was taking its toll. He seemed…tired. They were not trading terrible jokes or insults, and the usual air of mischief was missing. Order business had kept Albus from Hogwarts—and those inside the castle—for the last few days, and the result was the weary man before him.

A louder ‘pop’ this time, and Remus Lupin appeared in the room. “Hello, Aberforth,” he said pleasantly. The young man looked up at Albus, and an expression of worry and distress flitted across his face. “Albus…” Lupin paused uncertainly.

“What is it?” Albus asked quickly. “Harry—”

“Harry’s fine, Professor. It’s Umbridge. She tried to remove Hagrid…he’s all right,” Lupin added quickly at the look on Albus’s face. “But…” The young man broke off, looking up at Albus worriedly. A niggling unease settled over Aberforth, but he dared not put a name to the source.

“What happened?” Albus repeated in a low voice.

“One of the professors found out about Umbridge’s plan. There were four Ministry Aurors trying to take down Hagrid when Minerva came running out…” Aberforth closed his eyes briefly. Oh Minerva, you fool girl… “They didn’t even have the courage to face her fairly!” Lupin choked, outraged. “The bastards shot at her—she didn’t even have her wand out!” Suddenly recalling himself, Lupin paused. The odd look on Albus’s face was obviously unfamiliar to the boy, but Aberforth knew. “Minerva took four stunners to the chest. She’s at St. Mungo’s now…She’ll…she should be all right…” he finished hesitantly.

There was a dead silence in the room for a long moment, and then suddenly Albus moved. He snatched up the nearest barstool and flung it violently against the wall, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. Whirling around in a black fury, Albus moved to grab the next one, but Aberforth was faster. “Albus!” The air around them was crackling with a furious energy. Unable to reach another chair, Albus slammed his fist into the round table beside him, his hand breaking through two inches of solid wood. “Albus!” Aberforth shouted finally.

His brother snapped around, and Aberforth relaxed fractionally as a kind of wild sanity entered Albus’s eyes. “St. Mungo’s, Remus?” the wizard said softly, striding towards the fireplace.

“Albus!” Aberforth leapt forward to grab the man, grateful for the werewolf’s strength as they held the wizard back. “You can’t help her if you get caught,” he reminded him loudly. “Minerva’s a tough girl. She’ll be all right.” Feeling Albus’s mad struggles slowing, Aberforth continued quickly. “And she’ll be right angry with you, too, if she finds out that you risked capture to come and see her sick. You know she hates that. She’s a tough girl, Albus. She’ll be fine.” Aberforth forcibly guided his brother into a chair and held him there.

“You can let go of me now, Aberforth,” Albus told him scathingly.

Aberforth gave him a long look.

“I won’t do anything stupid.” Another hard look, and then Aberforth released his brother. Albus glared at him and Aberforth met his gaze squarely. Albus surrendered first. “I never should have left her there,” he said quietly, staring at his hands.

“What would you have done? Taken her with you into hiding? Made her a criminal by association? One of you had to watch the students. You couldn’t have known,” Aberforth told him flatly.

“I knew that woman was insane.” The tone of his voice left no doubt of which woman he spoke. “I should have eliminated her.”

A sharp intake of breath from the forgotten younger man behind them drew their attention. They turned to him as one, only to find Remus Lupin gaping at them open-mouthed.

Aberforth chuckled. “In all your years at Hogwarts, you never noticed?”

Lupin blinked. “N…no…”

Albus glared at them both darkly. Lupin shook a little. Another brave Gryffindor, Aberforth thought dryly. The poor, clueless boy. Can’t believe that the great Professor Dumbledore would hurt a woman. Aloud, he said, “Albus has always been willing to do anything for the cause.”

“Of course,” Lupin replied hastily, glancing sideways at the named wizard.

And when it comes to Minerva, Albus has always been willing to abandon the cause, Aberforth added silently. The young man had discovered enough traumatic revelations for one day. “Go back and tell them that you’ve delivered the message. They’re to keep a covert eye on Minerva, to ensure that no accidents happen to her. Keep the mutt in the house. I’ll take care of Albus.”

His brother glared at him, and Lupin hesitated. “Go, Remus,” Albus ordered him wearily. “Thank you for coming.”

Lupin straightened. “Yes, sir.” He disapparated.

Albus let out a deep sigh and sank back into his chair, looking every one of his one hundred and fifty-five years. “Come on, Albus, let’s get you to bed,” Aberforth said gently. As he guided his brother upstairs and tucked him into bed, Aberforth reflected on the oddity of the situation. For the first time in fifty years, the two brothers had reversed roles, and though Aberforth found this rather alarming, he was also warmed by the thought of caring for Albus. Still, he knew full well that it was not his assistance his brother needed, as Albus’s incoherent mutterings indicated. Even falling into a drugged, dreamless sleep, physically and emotionally exhausted, Albus’s last thoughts were of her.

“Minerva…”

* * *

As the greatest wizard of the age surrendered to sleep upstairs, a dirty rat scrambled out from under the shards of the shattered barstool downstairs, shaking. The rat scampered out into the street, and then cut down an alleyway. A mangy cat, about to pounce upon dinner, yelped in shock as its intended meal transformed into an equally rat-like man and then suddenly disappeared.

Peter Pettigrew had news for his master.

A/N: Just thought I'd share this piece with the board, too, as it seems to be turning out well so far.

[Aurinko]

Chapter Two: The Truth of the Matter

[/center]

He had never spoken to her; she had never seen his face. And yet, she knew that he had come. Every night, without fail. Despite the danger and the incredible risk, he had come.

Why?

To watch her sleep. And to leave at her bedside, every morning, a single lemon drop.

To accomplish this one task, he had risked capture every night, and implicit in that capture, the fate of the Resistance. And yet still he had come. Every night, without fail.

It was enough to go to a girl’s head.

Enough, Minerva thought firmly, and focused on taking one step, and then another, each bringing her closer and closer to home.

She had just reached the edge of the staircase when angry voices carried down to her. “I’m trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir.” Potter, Minerva thought worriedly.

“Put that wand away at once,” another familiar voice said curtly. “Ten points from Gryff—”

Potter and Snape was never a good combination. Minerva began to walk faster.

“Ah. I see there are no longer any points left in the Gryffindor hourglass to take away.” What? “In that case, Potter, we will simply have to—”

“Add some more?” Minerva interjected smoothly.

“Professor McGonagall!” Severus exclaimed, striding forward. “Out of St. Mungo’s, I see!” Though the students at his back missed his sharp analysis of her condition, Minerva did not.

“Yes, Professor Snape. I’m quite as good as new,” she said clearly. Diffuse the situation. Minerva shrugged off her traveling cloak. “You two—Crabbe—Goyle—” She beckoned them forward, reigning in her impatience at their torpid, dim-witted manner. “Here,” she said, thrusting her carpetbag into Crabbe’s chest and her cloak into Goyle’s, “Take these up to my office for me.”

“Right then,” Minerva said after the lumbering idiots had gone, looking up at the hourglasses on the wall, “well, I think Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You-Know-Who! What say you, Professor Snape?”

“What?” Severus snapped. “Oh—well—I suppose…”

Minerva resisted the impulse to grin impishly. “So that’s fifty each for Potter, the two Weasleys, Longbottom, and Miss Granger,” she said, and a shower of rubies fell down into the bottom bulb of Gryffindor’s hourglass as she spoke. I thought that Miss Granger, at least, would have more sense… “Oh—and fifty for Miss Lovegood, I suppose. Now, you wanted to take ten from Mr. Potter, I think, Professor Snape—so there we are…”

Turning to the boys, she said briskly, “Well, Potter, Malfoy, I think you ought to be outside on a glorious day like this.”

Potter practically ran out the doors; Malfoy, deprived of his target, slinked back inside. Minerva shook her head.

As soon as the students were out of sight, Minerva found herself caught in a breath-stealing hug. “It’s about time you came back,” was all Severus said, and it was enough.

When he released her, Minerva was blinking rapidly. “Thank you for taking me to St. Mungo’s,” she said softly.

He started. “How did you—”

“Who else?” she replied fondly. The shy smile he gave her in return made her heart swell. Severus extended his arm, and Minerva soon found herself being led towards the castle.

“Gryffindor had no points left?”

“Your Gryffindors were rather poorly behaved in your absence,” Severus replied levelly.

“One hundred and twenty-six points worth of misbehavior in ten days?” Minerva asked incredulously.

“They were very poorly behaved.”

“Severus!”

The Slytherin shrugged elegantly. “About two days after you…left, the number of pranks suddenly tripled. Oddly, the majority of those were directed at Umbridge, and of course none of the staff felt capable of dealing with them.” He paused as Minerva blinked furiously. “I’ll never admit to saying this, but your little lions deserved some points for creativity alone.” Minerva stumbled at his comment, and only Severus’s quick reflexes kept her from falling on her face. “It would have given me the pleasure of taking away those points, too,” he added caustically.

“Severus!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

Minerva spluttered for a moment and then surrendered the point, laughing. “Oh, Severus…”

He indulged her with tales of the exploits of her young lions, his dry tone and scathing commentary giving her plenty of material to protest, and it was not long before Minerva found herself just outside the Headmaster’s office.

“Ginger newts,” Severus said clearly. Minerva swallowed as the stone gargoyle sprang back promptly. “Go on,” he insisted, gesturing at the staircase. “Merlin knows the man’s been driving us all crazy without you.”

“Thank you, Severus,” Minerva said, giving him a soft smile as she tucked some loose dark hair behind his ear.
He glared at her and ducked his head, turning on his heel to stalk off, muttering about “meddling mother-types” and denouncing women in general. Minerva, laughing gaily, moved up the staircase slowly.
She rapped smartly on the door, but strangely, no one answered. Puzzled, Minerva simply pushed open the door and stepped in, wondering where Albus had gone. Her ears caught a strangled sound; she whirled to face the desk and froze.

“Minerva,” Albus breathed. He was on his feet and staring at her dazedly, drinking in the sight of her like winter sunlight.

“Hello, Albus,” Minerva said warmly. An answering smile began to creep across his face as he moved towards her, only to freeze when he saw her walking stick. The lightning change that came over him was unlike any Minerva had ever seen.

Her green eyes widened in alarm as Albus suddenly threw himself at her feet. “Minerva, I’m so sorry.” The agonized guilt in his voice was painful for her to hear. “I never should have—”

“Albus.” Blue eyes looked up at her: dimmed, dark shadows of the shining jewels she loved. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said gently.

“I—”

“No, Albus.” Minerva carefully lowered herself to her knees, ignoring his obvious concern, to look him in the eyes. “It wasn’t your fault,” she repeated firmly, never breaking contact.

Albus closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. He sighed deeply, but when his eyes opened again, they were clear. Albus took her hand reverently and pressed a kiss to her wrist. “I’m so very glad that you’re home.”

Minerva smiled and kissed him lightly. “Someone needs to keep you in line, old man,” she teased.

“As long as you’re the one doing it,” he replied, rising to his feet before helping Minerva to hers.

“Always, love.” With a quick flick of his wand, Albus transfigured the armchair into a couch and gently guided Minerva into a seat. Though her mouth quirked at his overly-solicitous treatment, she said nothing. Albus carefully arranged himself around her and Minerva leaned back into him contentedly. His arms slid around to encircle her waist lightly, and Minerva laid her hands atop his. And so they sat together, the Headmaster and his Deputy, as comfort, strength, and a deep calm flowed between them on a level far deeper than words.

[Aurinko]

Chapter Three: On Stolen Time

[/center]

“I need your help with Minerva,” Albus Dumbledore said shortly, looking at the two women hopefully.

Rolanda Hooch and Poppy Pomfrey exchanged a significant look.

“What did you do this time?” the flying professor asked accusingly. “The last time I tried to get you back in Minerva’s good graces, she turned every one of my brooms bright pink!”

“No, no, nothing like that,” the Headmaster assured them hastily. The two women observed the great wizard evenly, eyebrows raised. “I’m taking Minerva out to dinner tonight and I need you two to raid her closet while we’re gone.”

“What?”

With an eager, boyish smile, Albus Dumbledore explained his plan. “Don’t forget now. Ten o’clock tonight, outside the Great Hall.” He opened the door to Rolanda’s office. “Thank you.” He flashed them a last quick smile and then was gone.

Rolanda Hooch and Poppy Pomfrey, two of Minerva McGonagall’s oldest friends, looked at each other and shrugged. Minerva had made her choice fifty years ago, and they still did not fully understand it.

* * *

“Thank you for dinner tonight, Albus. It was wonderful,” Minerva said softly as they strolled slowly through the empty halls of Hogwarts. Albus had allowed her to forego use of her walking stick provided that she used him instead, an arrangement she was more than willing to agree to.

He smiled softly, continuing at his slow pace as he led her back down the hallway. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. It’s been a rough year for you.”

“And for you,” Minerva insisted.

“And for me,” he agreed mildly. Instead of leading her back to their rooms, Albus stopped just outside the doors to the Great Hall. “I have something for you, Minerva.”

She glanced up at him, startled. “But—”

Albus shook his head and held up a hand to silence her. “Close your eyes.”

Frowning slightly, Minerva obeyed, missing the delighted little smile on Albus’s face. “Trust me,” he whispered. One of his arms came up around her waist, and then Minerva felt the familiar tug of a portkey.
Minerva swayed dangerously on her feet and clung desperately to Albus, eyes still closed. She hated portkeys. “Albus?”

“One moment, darling.” His arm left her waist and she felt him move away. Minerva heard the rustle of cloth and the squeak of a door.

“Albus?”

“This way,” he replied enigmatically. A gentle hand on her arm led her away. “Watch your step.” Minerva stepped down carefully, mind whirling as her feet sank slightly into the ground. The night air was crisp and cool, and a salty tang carried on the wind. She could hear the soft crashing of waves before her. He didn’t…

“Albus?”

“All right, love, open your eyes."

A short silence fell as Minerva observed the scene in shock. “Albus, you didn’t…” she breathed.

He smiled again. “Welcome home, darling.”

Minerva turned to him, green eyes alight. “Oh, Albus...”

They were home. This was their secret place, a little cottage in the south of France where they could hide away from the world and be simply Albus and Minerva and nothing more. It was all they needed, all they wanted—and all they never had time for.

Minerva looked up into the starry night sky. At Orion’s feet, the star Sirius shone brightly, much as the man had done during his life. Minerva swallowed, blinking away tears.

“It’s all right, Minerva,” Albus whispered softly, his arms encircling her comfortingly. She leaned back into his embrace gratefully. Looking up again, Sirius shining down on her, Minerva made her decision. In her heart, she made a silent promise to the two boys who had never truly grown up—to the one gone and, more importantly, to the one beside her. For once in their lives, they would come first. “Dance with me,” she demanded abruptly.

Albus smiled warmly, eyes twinkling in approval of her decision. A wave of his hand and the soft strains of a very familiar waltz began to echo across the sands. Albus offered Minerva his hand as his other reached around to rest behind the small of her back. Her hand slid upward and toyed idly with his hair as they began to move in time to the music. Minerva was not surprised when she found herself suddenly floating a few inches above the ground. Her injuries should have precluded her participation in one of her favorite activities, but Albus would have shifted the stars for her had she but wished it.

“Forever and always,” he whispered. "Happy Anniversary, my love."

“Happy Anniversary, Albus.”

* * *

"So, are you going to tell me how you planned this?" Minerva asked him the next morning, laughing inwardly as he prepared breakfast the Muggle way with a boyish enthusiasm.

"That would ruin the surprise," he replied, grinning.

She rolled her eyes. "It's no longer a surprise, Albus."

He paused, brows furrowed deeply. "I guess you're right," he said, flashing her a sudden smile. "All right, then, I'll tell you."

“I thought that we could use a break, and so I arranged for us to come here for the month. Poppy and Rolanda packed your clothes; we can owl them if you need anything else. Everything’s been taken care of.”
Minerva had lost him after the first sentence. "You did what?"

"I took off a month," Albus replied evenly, eyes dancing, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I gave you off for a month.”

"Why?" Minerva was gaping at him.

"Because it's our fiftieth anniversary this month, and when I married you, I promised that you would come first, always. Do you remember?" he asked seriously.
Minerva ran right over him. "Yes, but Albus, the Order—"

"Will be just fine without me,” he interrupted firmly. “I've left Kingsley in charge of the day-to-day business. Aberforth is handling Severus. If there are any conflicts, he'll handle it. They're not to disturb us unless Hogwarts crumbles into dust while we're gone."

"Albus—"

"No, Minerva. You come first, darling. Forever and always, always and forever. Do you remember?"

"Yes, of course—"

"Then it's settled." Sensing her protest, he caught her hands and forced her to look up at him. "Let's just take this month, Minerva. One month. On our fiftieth anniversary, the anniversary of the best day of my life. You come first, my love, always. You need this; I need this. We've devoted our entire lives to saving the world. This is our time.” She looked up at him sadly, and he shook his head slightly. “I won't deny that it's stolen time, but it’s been stolen for you,” Albus added, opening his hands as if to offer it to her in a ridiculously grandiose. “This is our life,” he said, suddenly serious. “Stay with me.”

Minerva closed her eyes and stood still for a long moment. Neither breathed in that space and both laughed simultaneously when they looked at each other. “You know me too well,” she said finally, looking up with him with a slight smile.

His delighted grin told her that he had already known her answer—in truth, had probably known what it would be while he planned this—but she told him anyway. “One month sounds wonderful, Albus.”

Albus kissed Minerva deeply just as she finished her sentence. “Wonderful,” he whispered, before closing the distance between them again.

“Wonderful,” she agreed breathlessly, some time later.

* * *

“Gone? What do you mean, they’re gone?” the shadowed figure roared.

The rat-man cringed fearfully. “I mean, they’ve just…just disappeared, my Lord. We can’t find them anywhere and nobody seems to know where they’ve gone.”

“Imbecile,” the tall blonde man beside the figure said coldly. “How hard is it for a rat to keep track of two professors in one building?”

The figure’s red eyes narrowed into harsh slits as he observed the cowering creature before him. “You have failed me, Wormtail,” he declared coolly. “I am displeased.” The rat-man called Wormtail nodded dumbly, trembling violently. “Luckily for you, however, I know that they will return.”

“My Lord?” the blonde questioned.

The figure’s answering smile was vicious. “Minerva would never miss school. We shall see them again, I suspect, in September.”

Wormtail let out a small sigh, attracting the figure’s attention to him again. “Still, you did fail me, and you know I never let that go unpunished.” It was perhaps for the best that Wormtail took in a sharp breath at his master’s words; the agonized screaming that followed allowed for no others.

“September,” the Dark Lord hissed through clenched teeth. “September.”

A/N: Sorry if anyone got confused when I posted this one on FF.net. Oh, and I realized that I forgot to thank my beta, Flying Auk, who I don't think has seen this site, but she's great and she never edited the first few chapters of this fic (you'll probably be able to tell, too). Errors are all mine.

[Orion's Guard]

Yes, it is turning out well. Will we see some more happy before the trouble begins?

[ginger newts]

Is this a re-write or did I miss chapters on ff.net? Maybe I'm just getting old and I forgot, haha. Anyway, I like it so far, but I'm dreading the sad part. Update soon.

[tayryn]

very nice!

i'm glad you decided to post this here... so much easier to read.

you're doing a wonderful job! and i like how you're prtraying Snape as well!

looking forward to more.

[angeldust]

yay! I started reading this a while back on ff.net but then i missed a load of chapters and didn't have time to catch up and now i do!

I love the idea of this slightly darker Albus, I love the way ur've made him darker but kept him so well... Albus!

[Aurinko]

Chapter Four: Six Days

[/center]

Six days.

It had been six days since she had been taken, and for six days he had watched in growing dismay as their defenses crumbled around them.

They all missed her—even his snakes were worried, though they would never admit it. But she had always been fair, even back when he had been a student, taking points from Gryffindor just as fast as she did from Slytherin and rewarding excellence wherever she found it. And in doing so, she had won the Slytherins’ universal, if grudging, respect.

Points, however, were the least of their problems now. If Severus didn’t suddenly become a miracle-worker, they were doomed. Even the Potter brat knew it.
Albus Dumbledore had simply ceased to function, and the Resistance was disintegrating.

Oh yes, the Dark Lord had known exactly what he had done in kidnapping Minerva McGonagall.

Severus recalled the scene at Grimmauld Place with a visible wince.

flashback

[/center]

They had all gathered together for the first time in decades, missing only two of the eleven that formed the core of the Order of the Phoenix. Grimmauld Place was still the Order’s headquarters, now owned by a more subdued Harry Potter. The children were upstairs, no doubt trying to listen in on the adults’ conversation with more of the Weasley twins’ confounded contraptions. The pranksters themselves were seated at the table, looking more serious than Severus had ever seen them.

They were all there: Molly, Arthur, William, the twins, Tonks, Shacklebolt, Lupin, Moody—even Aberforth, who had not attended an Order gathering since the seventies. Of course, they had not had a topic this devastating to discuss since the return of the creature calling himself Voldemort. Tonight, they were there to talk about their esteemed leader. Their leader, who had quite literally ceased to function the moment Minerva McGonagall’s kidnapping had been confirmed.

The accompanying ransom note, if Voldemort’s demands could indeed be called a “ransom,” probably helped account for Albus’s state.

Severus slammed the offending parchment down on the table violently.

“I hereby commence this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

“What gives you the authority to lead?” Shacklebolt snapped.

Severus sneered at the Auror. “I am Minerva McGonagall’s second. As both she and Dumbledore are currently…incapacitated, I am now the official leader of this Order.” He watched as Shacklebolt read the acceptance on the faces of the senior Order members, shocked speechless.

“Let it be, Kingsley. We have bigger problems to deal with tonight,” Arthur said wearily.

Sending Severus a half-hearted glare, the Auror returned to his seat.

The Slytherin continued as if the interruption had never occurred. “As you all know, Minerva was kidnapped three days ago. Our attempts to locate her have failed miserably. Albus received this note yesterday.”

Aberforth, seated on Severus’s left, rose to pick up the parchment. “Dumbledore,” he began tonelessly, “you really should take better care of your things, old man. Quite careless of you, really, to leave this one lying about where just anyone could pick her up. Since you don’t seem to care too much about her welfare, I’ve taken the liberty of relieving you of her.” The younger Dumbledore brother paused momentarily. Severus watched as the hand that held the parchment shook a little; the other formed a tight, angry fist. “Wormtail here—” Aberforth was interrupted by a growl from Lupin. “Wormtail here has gotten the ridiculous notion that you actually give a damn about someone, Dumbledore! I beg to differ, but I feel that I must give you the chance to speak your case. Should you care to prove me wrong, deliver the Potter boy to me at my manor by midnight You have seven days, Dumbledore. One of them, the woman or the boy, will die. I leave the choice to you.

“Yours sincerely, Lord Voldemort.” Aberforth glanced up from the parchment. “He’s added a postscript,” he said wearily, before proceeding to read the rest. “Oh, and Dumbledore? One more thing I forgot to mention. Should you somehow get the idea that this trade is unfair and attempt to change the stakes, I would be forced to undertake drastic measures, I’m afraid.
“If you attempt to find your precious Minerva, I will kill her. If you, in your desperation, tell anyone about this, I will kill her. In other words, if you do anything other than follow my instructions explicitly, I will kill her. In the meantime, I will enjoy finding out exactly what has so fascinated you about this woman. I confess that I cannot see it at the moment, but I have seven days, after all, to learn everything. Cheers!” Aberforth spat the last line, now radiating a cold fury.

Molly looked close to tears; Arthur held her comfortingly, though clearly horrified. The youngest of the Order, Tonks and the twins, had yet to get past their shock. William, Shacklebolt, and Lupin were sickened, though not as surprised.

Severus’s face could have been carved from stone.

Molly, of course, commented on it. “Severus! How can you be so cold?” she asked harshly.

“I am what I must be, Molly,” Severus replied impassively. “Now, if you all would pull yourselves together, we have some decisions to make.” Some of them glared at Severus, apparently insulted; he didn’t care. “Minerva is likely at Riddle or Malfoy Manor, though I do not know which.”

“Well, why don’t you find out?”
Severus observed Shacklebolt disdainfully. “Any inquires I make as to Minerva’s whereabouts will immediately be taken as investigations on Albus’s behalf, thereby condemning her to death.”

“Surely You-Know-Who wouldn’t just kill her!” Molly exclaimed. Severus raised an eyebrow. “I mean, isn’t she more valuable as a hostage?” she continued hesitantly.

Severus shook his head wearily. “Yes and no, Molly. I’m not sure how much the Dark Lord knows. He’s insinuated that he knows Minerva is the one weakness in Albus’s armor, but he’s not absolutely certain of that.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked.

“The note,” Severus replied. “If he was absolutely certain of Albus’s compliance, then he wouldn’t have bothered mocking him or giving him a week to ‘decide.’ The Dark Lord is avaricious—he would have asked for everything he thought he could get. The fact that he only asked for Potter’s life—”

“What do you mean, ‘only Potter’s life’?” Lupin snarled.

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the Gryffindors’ idiocy.

Aberforth, the only other Slytherin in the room, saved him the trouble. “If Voldemort—” Aberforth did roll his eyes at their collective gasp; Severus smirked. “If Voldemort had known the truth, he would have demanded the immediate surrender of Hogwarts, not Harry Potter.”

Eight of the twelve core members of the secret organization devoted to saving the world gaped at Aberforth. “What?” Tonks burst out.

Severus and Aberforth exchanged a look. Because that, Albus would have given him, you idiots. “You explain,” Severus said curtly, gesturing at the stunned table.

Aberforth shrugged. “You were informed at the beginning of the summer of the prophecy involving Potter and Riddle. Albus knows it’s pointless to surrender Potter to Voldemort; Minerva would die anyway.”

“He wouldn’t keep the deal?” one of the twins asked.

“Who, Riddle?” The other twin nodded. “No, he would. Minerva would be released, but without Potter, who would be around to stop Riddle? Albus knows that she would stay to fight and probably get herself killed. Giving up Potter would be pointless.”

They were still staring at Aberforth, unable to believe that a man could talk so callously about his brother, sister-in-law, and the young savior of the wizarding world—well, the damn-well-better-be-the-savior. Severus refused to think that he had put up with that idiot Gryffindor for five years to no purport.

Looking back out at the eight incredulous faces around him, Severus recalled a conversation with Minerva over tea in her office long ago.

[Aurinko]

flashback

[/center]

“Why is it that you Gryffindors seem totally incapable of thinking rationally when your ‘feelings’ are involved?” Severus snapped at Minerva after yet another Gryffindor first-year had shouted at him in detention and then promptly burst into tears.

The infuriating woman had burst out laughing when he had finished the tale.

“It’s not funny! You Gryffindors need to learn to compartmentalize!”

“Severus, our emotions are our emotions; they’re part of who we are.”

“Your emotions could very likely get you killed!”

Minerva sobered. “When the situation calls for it, I can ‘compartmentalize’ my emotions, as you say.”

“Usually, yes, you can. But not always!” Severus stood and paced across the carpet furiously. “Aside from the fact that I find it highly annoying, it’s a bloody dangerous habit!”

“Severus!”

“Admit it!” He pointed a finger at her accusingly. “You get overly emotional, and then you get distraught and you can’t think straight, and if that happened on the battlefield, it could get you killed.”

“It could also save a life.” Severus glanced up at her, incredulous. “Yes, Severus. It did exactly that, as a matter of fact, in another war much like this one…oh, fifty years ago or so.”

end flashback

[/center]

It was on that day, many years ago, that he had discovered that the Headmaster and his Deputy were far more than they seemed, both separately and together. Minerva’s story had been fantastic, but the proof had been there, and Albus had independently corroborated her words later, actually correcting the parts where Minerva had apparently downplayed her role.

It had become a favorite point of contestation over the years, whether being an “overly-emotional Gryffindor” was an advantage of disadvantage.

For the first time in his life, however, Severus desperately hated being right. If things didn’t improve quickly, they would lose this war because of two overly-emotional Gryffindors. He squashed the traitorous little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Minerva. Severus Snape was never overly-emotional, and certainly not over the kidnapping of one Gryffindor and the collapse of another. The mere thought was ridiculous.

Unbidden, Minerva’s laugher rang out in his mind, bright and warm, and Severus gasped for breath, feeling suddenly as though he had been blindsided by a bludger.

[Aurinko]

Chapter Five: The Dilemma

[/center]

“You see the dilemma, then?” Aberforth asked. Their blank looks indicated otherwise: at the far end of the table, both twins had their heads cocked to the side and eyebrows raised comically.

Severus resisted the urge to growl, to get up and shake them until their teeth rattled. “Here, I’ll spell it out for you in terms that you Gryffindors can understand,” he spat angrily, feeling a sort of vicious satisfaction when the boys flinched instinctively. “We need to rescue Minerva, and we need to do it soon. We’ve got four days. We’ve got one shot at this, because if we fail on the first attempt or the Death Eaters get wind of what we’re planning, they’ll kill her without hesitation. Do you understand?”

The puzzled looks continued. Severus’s jaw tightened painfully.

“What about Dumbledore?” William asked.

“Albus is not a consideration,” Severus replied curtly.

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, genuinely confused. Seated next to him, Molly looked even more lost than her husband. Her eyes had been glazed over since Aberforth’s reading, and Severus had little doubt that the woman would walk into walls if she left the house without direction. The werewolf, interestingly enough, had remained silent and looked quite pale.

“He does not know about this meeting, nor will he find out about this until it’s over.” And that’s only if we win, Severus added silently.

“Why?”

Severus glared at Tonks, who wilted after a few seconds. “Be charitable, Severus,” Aberforth rebuked him lightly. “They don’t know as much as you do.” The younger man relaxed slightly, taking the words in both contexts as intended.

“Then you fill them in,” he said shortly.

Aberforth nodded genially, looked around the table, and then sighed deeply. “As Voldemort intended, this is very hard for Albus. He cannot, and will not, surrender Potter, though I have no doubt that the notion plagues his every thought.” Close your mouths, Severus snapped mentally. Are all Gryffindors equally imbecilic? “He will do nothing to risk Minerva’s safety.”

“He’s just going to sit there?” Tonks squeaked.

“The Dark Lord has spies at Hogwarts.” She looked at him, nonplussed. “Other spies, you idiot!” Severus snapped, exasperated.

“Severus!” It was Molly, but the tone was so classically Minerva in its indignation that Severus paused as something hard and tight in his chest clenched painfully.

Severus took a deep breath, suddenly furious with himself. “As I was saying,” he continued tightly, “the Dark Lord has other spies at Hogwarts, and those spies are watching Albus very closely. For the main part, he has confined himself to his rooms these last few days, coming out only for meals. If he leaves Hogwarts, however, his absence will be noted, and likely taken the wrong way.”

“Polyjuice,” Lupin suggested neutrally.

“That is a possibility,” Severus admitted, “but I’m not certain that we want him with us on this mission.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Albus is…Minerva is very important to him.” Aberforth stumbled trying to find the words. The three Aurors at the table were staring at the barkeeper as if he’d had one too many shots.

Severus solved the problem for him. “This is a bit too personal for him. Our primary objective is to rescue Minerva, of course, but our other objective is to get ourselves out of there alive. Albus does not have any such consideration. For that reason alone, he is too dangerous to take with us.”

Arthur nodded slowly. “All right, Severus.”

“I still think he should come with us,” Shacklebolt disagreed, shaking his head. “Even in the worst case scenario, he’d be useful in getting us out of there.” He turned to look at Tonks questioningly.

“I’m with Kingsley,” Tonks said hesitantly. “Dumbledore would be a great asset to any mission, and I don’t think that he’ll be too happy that we went off without him.”

“If this works, then Minerva will save us from his wrath. If this doesn’t work, then we’re all doomed anyway, so what’s the difference?” Severus quipped. “And we have his tacit agreement to do this.”

“I thought you didn’t tell him about this meeting,” George said.

“I didn’t. But I did copy this note from his desk—no, not while he was watching!—but Albus knows that I have read it.”

“And he knew that you would do this,” Fred stated.

“Yes.”

“I still think—”

“That we should take the great Albus Dumbledore with us, to cover our retreat if nothing else?”

Tonks nodded.

“No,” Severus said flatly.

“Why not?” At some point in this series of small shocks, Tonks’ appearance had reverted back to its natural state, and her dark eyes held a frustrated, stubborn glint.

The two Slytherins exchanged a long look.

“No,” Aberforth seconded, equally emphatic.

“Why?”

Severus hesitated. “Absolutely not,” Aberforth snapped, but he was looking at Severus, not Tonks. Legilimency did not always require a spell, especially between two willing and skilled participants.

Don’t you dare, Snape!

Why not? He already knows most of it anyway.

You will not. The old man’s voice thundered in Severus’s head, power and anger giving it enough overtones of his brother that Severus weakened.

Dammit, Aberforth, they need to know!

That’s not your decision to make. Severus glared at the seemingly-placid old man.

Damn you, Dumbledore. You’re going to have to tell them something.

Why?

They’re not just going to bloody “take my word for it!”

You’re the First of the Order. They don’t have to take your word for it; they just have to do it.

Severus shook his head and turned to face the table again. Gryffindors should leave the possession of secrets to the Slytherins; they caused fewer problems. “Enough discussion. Albus Dumbledore is not coming with us.” Shacklebolt’s face darkened. Severus met his gaze squarely, black eyes hard. “Drop by Hogwarts some time. If you want Dumbledore at your back, take him on one of your missions, not mine.”

Tonks’s dark eyes were flashing daggers at him. “Enough. We haven’t got time for stupidity. Here’s the plan…”

All argument ceased as everyone listened grimly while Severus outlined his plan. It was bold, risky, and incredibly brave—the antithesis of all things Slytherin—but they were there to rescue a Gryffindor, after all. And although Severus hated clichés, desperate times called for desperate measures.

After he was certain that everyone was clear on their roles, and that no mention of this meeting was to be made anywhere, Severus summarily dismissed everyone—except Aberforth.

Why didn’t you let me tell them? he raged as the other Order members slowly left the table.

It’s Albus’s secret, not mine, Aberforth returned firmly, leaning back in his chair and calmly eyeing Severus.

It’s our lives! The old man’s face remained impassive. Dammit, Aberforth, they deserve to know!

No, they don’t. Severus could feel Aberforth’s disapproval; the old man hadn’t approved of Minerva telling him in the first place.

They’re not taking this seriously enough!

Telling them won’t change anything, Severus. These are Gryffindors, not Slytherins. They care more for Minerva as a friend, a teacher…as a sister. Severus did not miss that last, faint thought. It will not matter to them.

Are you mad? Of course it would matter to them. They want to win this damned war just as much as we do. Tonks and the twins, at least, would have taken this far more seriously if they knew that this could mean the end of the war.

No, Severus—

No? If we lose Minerva, we will lose Albus.

Albus would not abandon Minerva’s cause.

It wouldn’t matter. Your ridiculously romantic brother bound his magic to her, remember? If Minerva dies, all of Albus’s magic goes with her.

Then this had better work.

Damn you, Dumbledore.

A/N: Comments are always appreciated. Thanks for the encouragement!

[Jaya]

Am glad you posted here as well... and am still enjoying the story!

Jaya

[Orion's Guard]

AAHHH!

So, I cheated and went and read up to chapter 8 on ff.net. I imagine you will catch up here and there.

[Aurinko]

Chapter Six: One Weekend in Hogsmeade

[/center]

Again Minerva woke to darkness and despair. She had failed.

After all these years and despite all her precautions, she had failed. Somehow, somewhere, someone had found out the truth. She had been captured, and she would be used against Albus.

Albus. The thought was bittersweet. Oh, Albus. I’m so sorry. I tried…

flashback
Saturday, September 14

[/center]

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, and Minerva had flatly forbidden Albus from accompanying her into town. She wanted to get some shopping done and knew that bringing him along was tantamount to disaster. After all, her destination this afternoon was Honeydukes, and Albus Dumbledore in a candy store was worse than a hundred nifflers loose in Gringott’s. Besides, there was something special that Minerva wanted to get for Albus, and she could not have him tagging along with her while she bought it.

Minerva smiled slightly and stepped out into the crisp September air, waving goodbye to Rosmerta as she did so. The children had another two hours to run around Hogsmeade, which gave her plenty of time to make a quick run by Honeydukes. Maybe she’d even pick up some candy for Severus; Merlin knew the man needed more sweetness in his life. It’s too bad that Honeydukes doesn’t sell temperament sweeteners, Minerva thought. He’s been in an exceptionally foul mood ever since he realized that Granger, Potter and Weasley were on the roster for his NEWT Potions class. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that angry with Albus before. Severus had practically been spitting fire at the Headmaster’s decision to override his admissions policy. Minerva’s suggestion that he separate the “Trio” and continue as usual only calmed him slightly.

“Well, then, I suppose I’ll just have to wait for Potter and Weasley to fail out. Those two dunderheads haven’t a chance without Granger’s perpetual ‘assistance,’” Severus sneered. Then, bidding the two of them a curt goodbye, Severus stormed out of Albus’s office, muttering angrily. Albus and Minerva had exchanged a long look, and then bent over the professors’ yearly budget requests without another word.

It was one of the many idiosyncrasies of their relationship, this communication without words. Strangers had often remarked upon it, only to have one of them—usually Albus—break into laughter. “I think fifty years is long enough to learn what someone likes for breakfast,” he told Madame Bones flippantly before proceeding to order for Minerva, who had been chatting with Poppy about the latest developments in medicinal transfigurations. To Minerva, the comfortable, natural silences that arose between them even at the beginning of their relationship had always been strangely significant. It was level of understanding that she had never had with anyone else.

Minerva walked in and out of Honeydukes in thirty minutes. She bought her little gift for Albus with minimal difficulties, as well as another tin of ginger newts for her desk, and after some consideration, a box of dark brandied chocolates for Severus, who complained that the milk chocolate confections favored by the students were “sickeningly sweet indications of poor taste.” Inordinately pleased by her choices and musing about next week’s lesson plans, Minerva failed to notice the two cloaked men trailing her from behind.
By the time she had returned to the center square, however, something odd and uncomfortable was beginning to prick at the edge of her consciousness. Minerva fingered her wand and surveyed the crowd.

It was the typical Saturday mix of haggard mothers with children clinging at their heels, husbands with their wives, and small groups of friends—women with their girlfriends, men with their boys’ clubs—clustered about the square. Minerva smiled softly at the sight of a pair of young lovers strolling through, blissfully lost in their own world. Interspersed between the adults were dozens of Hogwarts children, nibbling happily on Honeydukes treats and chatting animatedly about one subject or another. Minerva smiled and nodded towards the handful of waves and greetings sent her way. The weather was glorious for the first time this month, and Hogsmeade had turned out in force.

Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Minerva chastised herself for her skittishness and turned to head back to the Leaky Cauldron. Moments later, all hell broke loose.

Someone with a flair for the dramatic shouted out “Morsmordre!” in a booming voice undoubtedly amplified by another spell. The appearance of the Dark Mark in the sky caused screams of fear to break out all across the square.

Minerva cast her first spell before she had even fully comprehended the situation, and a masked Death Eater went down with a cry. Then the battle began in earnest.

The milling chaos of the crowd was a serious disadvantage for the Order members and Aurors in the vicinity. They were forced back as the Death Eaters used their hesitation to risk the lives of the innocents to their advantage. Voldemort’s cronies had no such considerations, and Minerva cried out inwardly every time she saw a green light flash at the edge of her vision.

Frustrated beyond belief by her inability to return fire, Minerva suddenly transformed and dashed through the panicked stampede toward the abandoned center of the square. As soon as she thought she had enough room, she transformed again, firing off a stunner just as she reached full height. She realized her mistake almost immediately. There were four Death Eaters standing nearby, and the rest of her support was still trapped by the crowd.

“Stupefy!”

Four stunners arched toward her, angry-red streaks burning into her mind. Minerva was trapped, frozen in terror as she watched them in stupefied horror. She could feel them striking her, burning across her chest and flinging her off the ground…

NO! [/b]

The sharp cry cut through her terror like a knife, startling her into action. At the last second, Minerva threw herself to the side with a wrench, barely dodging the blasts in time. Righting herself quickly, she returned the spell. “Stupefy!”

Anger and adrenaline roiled in her stomach; irritation flared when her Death Eater target managed to erect a shield in time to deflect her spell. “Protego!”

“Stupefy!”

“Expelliarmus!”

Adrenaline rushing through her veins, Minerva dodged the spells with a grace and ease belying her years. Once upon a time, she had been trained by the best, and it showed. Even Alastor Moody couldn’t hold a candle to Albus Dumbledore when it came to dueling. Finally given a fair fight, the old man’s prodigy was doing him proud.

“Relashio!” the fourth Death Eater shouted angrily. A sizzling slicing spell shot towards Minerva, but her opponent was so distracted by his anger that it missed badly.

Her ears caught the young, agonized scream that arose from behind her, and Minerva’s eyes flashed emerald fury. “Sagitta ignifera!” Minerva roared. A golden arrow of fire shot from her wand to strike the offending Death Eater squarely in the chest. The man screamed in agony as the arrow embedded itself in his chest and then was consumed in flame.

“Sicae glacei! ” The next Death Eater, shocked by the fate of his companion, moved too slowly to defend himself. He, too, fell screaming as a half-dozen small daggers of ice pierced his torso.

“Avad—!” one of the two remaining Death Eaters screamed in rage. Minerva threw herself to the ground as soon as she heard the beginning of the incantation, but the Death Eater never finished it.

“Silencio totalus! ” the other Death Eater snapped irritably, shocking the witch on the ground as he summarily silenced his partner. “Petrificus totalus! ”

Minerva fought the curse valiantly, but succeeded only in struggling to her knees. Her wand hand shook, but did not move. Time slowed, and Minerva watched the events unfold with a strange detachment.

She saw Tonks and Kingsley look up in their duel with another pair of Death Eaters; saw Tonks’s eyes widen and her jaw drop and saw Kingsley’s fierce, desperate offensive. She watched as Remus Lupin threw all caution to the wind, using his inhuman strength to throw the crowd out of his way in his frenzied attempt to reach her, golden eyes full of horror. Tell Albus I’m sorry, she told Remus silently. The young man continued shoving his way through, ignoring the defeat in her eyes.

Minerva had fought well. She had protected her students. She was prepared to die. It was an eventuality she had always known was a possibility. I’m sorry, Albus. I tried. It was only when she felt the pull of a portkey and heard the simultaneous pops of apparition around her that she realized her second mistake.

[Aurinko]

Her captors did not speak to her, and that fact alone set off little warning bells in Minerva’s head. She was unceremoniously thrown into a cell in some dark, damp, cold dungeon showing the trademark lack of originality of Slytherin house and left alone to ponder her fate.

Imagine that you’re having tea with Severus, she thought with a self-deprecating smile, not being held for—

She gasped as realization struck. Merlin! Don’t give them anything!

Minerva’s mind was working very fast now, and the implications were staggering. Please don’t give them anything for me, Albus, please! Nothing. I’m not worth it. A single tear slipped down her cheek. She knew full well how much her husband was willing to sacrifice for her; it was no less that what she was willing to sacrifice for him—and he had far more to lose. Oh, Albus!

Stay away! Stay safe! Don’t give them anything!

Minerva wiped away a few stray tears with her torn sleeve, her mind begging him to remain resolute, even as a small part of her heart cried out to him in fear and longing:

Albus! Please come for me, Albus. But oh, stay away!

end flashback

[/b] [/center]

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys! Yes, I will catch up posting here soon.

[Aurinko]

Chapter Seven: Delivering the Message

[/center]
“NO!” Remus Lupin shouted, throwing himself down on the spot where Minerva McGonagall had just disappeared. “Dammit!” I tried to reach her…too slow. You weren’t fast enough, Lupin. You weren’t fast enough…again.

Remus looked down through blurry eyes at the bag he now clutched in his hand. The crinkled brown paper proclaimed Honeydukes in gold lettering. Minerva had dropped it just before she had been taken, and the look in her eyes had been unmistakable. I’m sorry. Remus knew that her message was not intended for him, but he quailed at the thought of delivering it.

A small fireball exploded just before him and Remus flinched automatically. “Fawkes?”The bird trilled a note of recognition and apology as it settled down lightly on the shattered stone tiles. “What is it?” Fawkes turned to offer Remus his bright tail and gave him a few notes of encouragement. Albus Dumbledore wanted a report. Immediately. With a soul-deep sigh, Remus put his wand in his pocket and clasping the bag tightly, reached out to touch Fawkes’s tail. There was a flash of fire, and then they were gone.

Traveling by phoenix flight was by far the best mode of magical transportation, Remus decided. Unlike portkeys, your stomach didn’t flip thrice over; unlike Floo powder, you didn’t land on your face. It was just like Apparating—one moment you were there, and the next, you are here—but without the wrenching jerks and fear of splinching. Furthermore, Fawkes seemed to radiate a sense of warmth, comfort, and security that Remus desperately needed. The phoenix sang a bolstering note and Remus unconsciously straightened.

Albus was seated behind his desk, head bent wearily over a long budget report, jumbled stacks of parchment placed haphazardly around him. Remus could tell that his work had not held his attention in some time. Albus’s hands moved restlessly across the paper, tracing nonsense designs across the miniscule numbers. The Headmaster looked up when Fawkes sang, his blue eyes dark and shadowed. “What happened?” Albus asked shortly, the exhaustion in his voice startling his visitor.

He doesn’t know yet, Remus realized instantly, golden eyes wide in disbelief. Half a second later, he was struck by another terrifying revelation: I’ll have to tell him.

“Remus?” Albus prompted.

Remus took a deep breath. “There was an attack in Hogsmeade today,” he said dispassionately. Albus’s face remained impassive. “We think that there were about a dozen Death Eaters, maybe more. About fifteen people were injured; eight were sent to St. Mungo’s.” Albus nodded grimly.

“Were any students injured?” the Headmaster asked.

Remus’s face fell slightly, and Albus mirrored his reaction, reading his expression for what it was. “There was one,” he acknowledged regretfully. “A Ravenclaw fourth-year, Mark Langdon. He was taken to the IC ward, but they expect a full recovery.”

Albus shook his head sadly, suddenly appearing far older than his one hundred and fifty-five years. “And the Order?”

“No injuries, but…” Remus faltered and failed to meet Albus’s eyes.

The Headmaster looked up sharply, blue eyes intense. “Remus?”

“Minerva was captured,” Remus admitted finally, looking up at his ex-professor with an expression akin to dread.

Albus froze. “What did you say?” he asked carefully.

“They took Minerva,” Remus replied quietly.

“How?” Albus’s voice was soft, dangerously soft, and Remus suddenly wished that he had brought Tonks—or the entire Auror squad—with him.

“There were about six of them in the main square. Someone shot up the Dark Mark and the crowd panicked. We couldn’t get through, and the Death Eaters were just firing off curses randomly to increase pandemonium. Minerva must have transformed, because suddenly she was in the center of the square, and we were not.”

Remus ran a nervous hand through gray-streaked amber hair as he watched Albus’s hands tighten around the roll of parchment he was holding. “There were four of them, and she fought anyway,” he said, a hint of pride mixing with the incredulity in his voice. “Langdon was hit by a curse meant for her. I’ve never seen her so angry.” Remus paused for a moment in reflection, the battle flashing through his mind in vivid color. “She was amazing, Albus. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast. It was just…incredible. And after taking four stunners in June—and at her age, too,” he added in disbelief, missing Albus’s pained expression. “She fired off curses that I’d never even heard of before.”

Given time to reflect on the fight, Remus was becoming more and more impressed with his ex-professor’s dueling skills. He had been her student for seven years and had never seen anything to indicate that kind of ability. Remus recalled a time when James had wondered idly who Professor Dumbledore practiced dueling against. I guess I know, now. Remus could almost feel his mind stretching as yet another of his childhood illusions about his professors was shattered. I wonder if Dumbledore—Dumbledore! Suddenly recalling the man in front of him awaiting his report, Remus continued hurriedly.

“Two of the Death Eaters she fought are in the IC. We captured two others, but the rest got away…with Minerva.” Remus glanced up, finished with his narrative. Albus’s hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists, the crumpled parchment beneath his fingers long forgotten. He had not moved once throughout the entire tale.

“Albus?” Remus asked hesitantly. “Are you all right?”

Something flashed in the Headmaster’s eyes for a moment and then was gone. Albus rose slowly, his expression closed and distant. “Thank you for br—”

Suddenly the office door banged open and a disheveled Severus Snape ran in. “He’s got Minerva!” the Potions Master exclaimed loudly. A slight flicker in the dark eyes was the only acknowledgement of Remus’s presence. Albus’s reaction to Severus’s entrance, however, was vehement. Finally presented with someone as outwardly distraught as he was inwardly, Albus broke.

“Oh God, Minerva…”

“Albus!” Severus said sharply. Moving faster than Remus had ever seen, Severus ran past him and caught Albus just before the man collapsed. “She’ll be fine. We’ll get her back,” he promised, easing the old man back into his chair with a gentleness that surprised Remus. “We’ll make them pay,” Severus swore vehemently.

Severus’s intensity awoke something within Albus, but it was not the cognizance Remus hoped for. “Yes, we will,” the Headmaster said softly, and Remus shivered.

Severus too, seemed slightly unnerved. All traces of the candy-loving, prank-appreciating Headmaster they had known were gone. Albus radiated a certain darkness that Remus had always associated with Severus. Even more so, however, Albus radiated danger in a way that Remus had seen only twice as a student. Albus Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard on the planet, and he was terrifying.

[Aurinko]

“Was there anything else, Remus?” Albus asked suddenly, his tone deceivingly even. The man’s face was totally expressionless, as if all life had just been wiped from him. Remus blinked, startled by his sudden transformation.

“Uh, yeah,” Remus stuttered, offering him the Honeydukes bag. “Minerva dropped this.”

Albus took the bag slowly and reached inside. He drew out a small box in shiny, dark brown wrapping paper, read the label, and handed it wordlessly to Severus. The Potions Master looked at the little box in incomprehension, and then swallowed hard. Leaning forward awkwardly, Remus caught the words “For Severus—not to sweet for your disposition, I hope.” Minerva had even drawn a little smiley face after it. Startled, Remus looked up to meet Severus’s eyes, only to find the man’s expression as closeted as ever—though there was a strange, menacing glitter in his eyes. Remus turned back to Albus immediately.

A large metal tin was next, the image of a ginger newt indented on the front clearly identifying its contents. Remus watched as a ghost of a smile flitted across Albus’s face, only to be replaced by an expression of unparalleled anguish. It was such a private moment that he felt obligated to apologize for eavesdropping. The sheer idiocy of that thought struck him hard and he closed his mouth with a snap, causing the other two men to look up at him curiously.

“Nothing,” Remus said shortly. The two men nodded, returning their attention to the paper bag.

Albus reached into the bag again and had to dig around the bottom before pulling out the last item: a small, dome-shaped package wrapped in blue-and-silver foil. “For my phoenix,” he whispered, seemingly unaware of his avid audience. “You always rise from the ashes stronger than before.” With trembling hands Albus carefully unwrapped the little package, taking in a sharp breath at the sight of his gift. Remus stepped forward to get a better look, puzzled when he saw only a single chocolate frog.

The Headmaster’s hands were shaking so violently that he was forced to pause and take a deep breath before continuing to unwrap the chocolate. As soon as he pulled the golden string, the chocolate frog jumped out of the packaging and onto the desk, but Albus paid no mind as his treat leapt happily out the door. It was the card, Remus realized, that had his attention. “Albus Dumbledore,” he read flatly, though he must have memorized the contents long ago. “Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times—” Here, Albus let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “—Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling and…” Albus’s hand tightened around the little card and Remus started. He had read Dumbledore’s chocolate frog card a hundred times—there was no more information on the card. But Albus picked up his reading again, his voice suddenly hoarse. “…and weekends in France with his wife, who is hoping that he will accompany her there for her upcoming birthday,” he finished softly. Even Remus’s werewolf-enhanced ears strained to catch his last words, and he gasped as comprehension dawned.

“You’re married?”

Albus looked up at him and Remus suddenly wished that he had not asked. “For the last fifty years,” the Headmaster replied simply, before returning to stare at Minerva's—his wife’s—last note. It was not their marriage that shocked Remus; after the “stunner incident,” he had begun to question the apparent relationship between Hogwarts two most famous professors. No, it was something else entirely.

Albus Dumbledore’s eyes had lost their sparkle.

A/N: Ack, these chapters are just over 10,000 characters, so I have to split them. Then again, I guess it's a good thing, because I finally got enough posts so that the little icon doesn't say "first year" anymore...

I forgot two really important things earlier.

1. A very big thank you to my beta, Flying Auk, even though I don't think she reads this board.

and

2. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story!

That's it for now,
Aurinko

[Aurinko]

Chapter Eight: Keeping the Appointment

[/center]

It was time.

In unison the two men raised the glass vials to their lips and downed their contents in one gulp, grimacing at the taste.

Silently they handed their wands to Remus who pocketed them solemnly.

The older man was older; the younger man, younger.

They were ready.

When the clock struck midnight they reached out to touch the convoluted black stone phoenix, exchanging a determined nod just before their fingers brushed against the grotesque sculpture.

Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter vanished in a flash from the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Left behind in their wake was an anxious Remus Lupin, who offered up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening.

* * *

The white-haired wizard and his young companion appeared in the center of the circle exactly as the clock struck twelve. Potter eyed the Death Eaters surrounding them with obvious unease, shifting his weight and fingering his pocket as if to grasp his missing wand; Dumbledore’s gaze remained fixed on the monster at the end of the hall.

The room had been prepared just as carefully as a theatre stage. Some thirty-odd masked Death Eaters encircled the two arrivals tightly, wands in hand, eagerly awaiting the fall of the “greatest wizard of modern times.” At the end of the hall was a small dais, and seated upon its ornate chair was Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort himself.

It was poetic justice that Riddle’s physical appearance was now as evil as his soul. Red eyes, little more than slits, stared back at his greatest nemesis.

“Ah, Dumbledore, so good of you to come,” Voldemort drawled, his rasping voice shattering the silence of the room. Dumbledore simply stared at him, barely acknowledging his presence. The Dark Lord scowled. “Give me the boy,” he demanded sharply.

“Where is Professor McGonagall?” Dumbledore countered, his voice equally harsh.

“Professor McGonagall? Is that what you call her in bed?” he leered, noting the sudden tensing Dumbledore’s body with vicious pleasure. “She’s been screaming your bloody name since the moment she got here.” The old man flinched visibly, and Voldemort smiled triumphantly.

“Where is she?” Potter shouted furiously, moving forward to stand beside his mentor supportively.

Voldemort looked down from the dais at the boy as if he were a particularly unpleasant bug to be squashed, and did not answer.

“Where. Is. She?” Dumbledore bit out, straightening angrily.

Voldemort returned his attention to the older wizard and smiled evilly. “I’m afraid that she won’t be able to join us. She’s a little…indisposed at the moment.”

“What the hell did you do to her?” Dumbledore roared, leaping forward and reaching out as if to strangle Voldemort with his bare hands. Half a dozen Death Eaters jumped forward from the circle to restrain him and Voldemort smirked. Dumbledore flung his hands up and the Death Eaters flew backwards, a few hitting the walls with audible cracks.

Cruel, delighted laughter and applause arose from the dais, freezing those in action. “Bravo, bravo,” the Dark Lord intoned, startling his followers. Then his face hardened. “Enough games, Dumbledore. Don’t forget who’s in charge here,” he threatened vaguely.

Dumbledore paused in his advance but did not back down. “Where is Minerva?”

“Ah, so it’s Minerva now, is it?” Voldemort asked mockingly. Seeing the growing ire in Dumbledore’s face, Voldemort waved to the Death Eater on his left carelessly. “Bring in the whore, then.” The furious flash in Dumbledore’s eyes was unmistakable, but every ounce of fire in him fled the moment the Death Eaters dragged in Minerva McGonagall and threw her at their master’s feet.

“Minerva!” Dumbledore cried sharply, rushing forward as she crumpled to the ground. Potter gasped audibly at the sight of his professor.

“Don’t move,” Voldemort warned them coldly, holding his wand to Minerva’s throat almost lazily. “I’d hate to have to kill her now.” Dumbledore skidded to a halt, his blue eyes agonized as he frantically assessed her condition.

Her dress had been torn to shreds and hung loosely on her eerily gaunt body. Thin, pale legs spotted with dark purple bruises splayed out beneath her, and she shivered slightly, boneless as a flobberworm. Dried blood and mottled filth were splattered across her rags, and her right arm hung at an odd angle. Voldemort watched in amusement as she struggled to right herself and Dumbledore struggled not to run to her side. Finally, she managed to push herself into an awkward half-sitting, half-kneeling position and looked up at her would-be rescuers.

There were dark circles under her eyes and a deep bruise on her left cheek. Tiny scratches showed red against the white of her face. She was clearly exhausted and in great pain, but her eyes met Dumbledore’s unerringly. Something passed between them in that instant, like a spark of electricity, and both straightened subtly.

“Let her go,” Dumbledore commanded, the sudden strength in his voice making Voldemort frown. “It’s me you want.” Dumbledore studiously avoided the sudden anguish in Minerva’s face.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. “You flatter yourself, old man. You know the deal. The boy for the woman.”

“I’m here,” Potter snapped angrily. “Let her go.” The woman on the ground looked up sharply at the sound of his voice and gave a small cry at the sight of him, green eyes wide.

Voldemort turned to look at the boy in mild irritation. “Stay out of this, boy.”

“Let me handle this, Harry,” Dumbledore said quietly, placing a restraining hand on his shoulder.

Potter shrugged it off agitatedly. “Let her go,” he said clearly, taking another few steps toward Minerva. “You have what you want,” he said, indicating himself.

“Harry, no!” Minerva cried, horrified.

“Silence!” Voldemort thundered, kicking her viciously as he raised his wand. Minerva collapsed with a soft cry, instinctively cradling her right arm to her chest.

“NO!” Dumbledore and Potter screamed, running forward at full speed. The Death Eaters rose up to stop them, but neither slowed their pace.

“ENOUGH!” Voldemort bellowed, rising from his seat and grabbing Minerva by her hair. His wand dug into the back of her neck painfully. “MOVE AND SHE DIES!”

Though she made no sound, Minerva’s eyes were tightly closed, the slow tear trailing down her cheek testimony to her pain. Dumbledore stood just ten feet away, breathing heavily, body trembling slightly as his blue eyes registered more emotions than any one man could ever hope to contain. The expression on his face could only be described as stricken, and he shuddered violently at the sight of Minerva’s tears.

Beside him stood young Potter, fists clenched fiercely, face flushed, also breathing heavily. “Leave her alone,” he said loudly, but the tears in his tone made the words seem more of a plea than a command. “You can have me, just…just please, leave her alone.”

Minerva’s eyes flew open at his words, and she shook her head frantically at him. Sensing her movement, Voldemort jerked on a fistful of her hair violently. Minerva’s head snapped back and she whimpered, falling still. Dumbledore gritted his teeth and breathed deeply, hands clenched into fists. The pure hatred radiating from him was palpable to everyone in the room.

“STOP IT!” Potter shouted.

“Silence, boy,” Voldemort said coldly, jabbing his wand at Minerva’s throat again for emphasis. “Here’s how this is going to work,” he began, looking at Dumbledore. “You will choose one, the woman or the boy, to take with you. You will turn around and walk out the door, and I will kill the other the moment you step out of this room.”

[Aurinko]

Dumbledore’s throat was working rapidly as his eyes darted between the two most important people in his life.

“Having trouble deciding, old man? I should have known that you were getting senile,” Voldemort said mockingly. “Let me help you.” Reaching down, he twisted Minerva’s right arm savagely, his eyes daring Dumbledore to try anything. Her tortured scream sliced straight through Dumbledore’s soul, and the old man faltered for a moment.

“Leave her alone, you bastard!” Potter screamed furiously, shaking from head to toe.

Voldemort’s eyes glanced over the boy, meeting his glare evenly. A sudden, sharp pain sliced through Potter’s skull as the Legilimens attacked his mind. Potter was too distracted to actively defend himself, and Voldemort slashed through his poorly-erected shields with ease. The boy fell with a sharp cry of pain, clutching his scar.

“So little Potter loves his professors, does he? How does it feel to be a failure as a father as well as a husband, old man?” the Dark Lord taunted his rival. Dumbledore looked sharply at Potter, who was slowly regaining his feet, the evident shock on his face only further amusing Voldemort.

“Didn’t you know that your precious golden boy loves you, Professor?” Voldemort laughed harshly. “He was so crushed when you betrayed him when he was just fifteen. Poor, precious little Potter.” Dumbledore seemed to wilt at Voldemort’s words. “So, you can save your son by killing his mother, or save your wife by killing her son. The irony is lovely, isn’t it?”

Dumbledore’s blue eyes were dim, defeated, when they met Minerva’s green ones. Her message was clear. Take him and get out of here! Dumbledore shook his head slowly. I won’t leave you. The flash of pain in her eyes hurt them both. Albus, please…she begged, needing no Legilimency to communicate with him. His answer was emphatic and unyielding. Never.

She looked up at Potter, slightly uncertain but nevertheless determined. The boy’s eyes widened as he read her message, confirming her conjecture. Then he too, shook his head definitively, no more than a slight inclination of his head, but it was enough to dash Minerva’s hopes.

Her worst nightmare had just come to life.

[Aurinko]

Chapter Nine: Prices

[/center]

“So we come to the end, Dumbledore. What is your—what?” Voldemort exclaimed rising up from his seat, unconsciously releasing Minerva who slumped to the ground.
A loud moan had arisen from the Death Eater on his left, and the man crumpled over in sudden pain. The Dark Lord himself felt an unpleasant tingling in his stomach and coughed sharply, thereby missing the slight, knowing smile on Potter’s face as all around the circle, his men were suddenly and violently ill.

He also missed the startled widening of Potter’s eyes as the boy whirled around to face Dumbledore. The sound of a different voice in his head had instantly incited a dozen different emotions in him, none of them pleasant. The boy’s green eyes were narrowed, his body tense and angry as he faced down his mentor. They glared at each other for only a moment before Potter shook his head and regained his determined edge. They raised their arms in unison, performing a simple spell with complex wandless magic.

“Accio Minerva!”

Brilliant violet and emerald fire arched towards Minerva, gathering her up and sending her sailing through the air at incredible speed. Voldemort’s shout of rage was echoed by his followers’ exclamations of surprise, and half a dozen curses were shot at Minerva.
“Protego maximus!” Potter shouted, and emerald green fire shot up around Minerva in a dazzling sphere of light. Angry red jets and sickly green ones dissipated as they hit the shield; Potter shook slightly with every impact but never faltered, eyes blazing.

From the back of the circle, however, came a single curse aimed directly at Potter’s back. Neither Potter nor Dumbledore noticed, so intent on rescuing and protecting Minerva that they were oblivious to all else, including their own safety. The woman in question, however, had always been preternaturally aware of and preoccupied by the latter issue and took action, weak as she was. Her whispered, wishful “Protego” seemed misplaced amongst the loud, angry shouts of the men in the room, and it was that doubtful anything but her magic heard her. The faint shimmer of violet that arose behind Potter was like a thin gauze screen to his heavy canvas, but it was enough. Both the curse and the shield disappeared simultaneously.

Then, finally, after what could have been only a few seconds but felt like hours, Minerva landed safely in Dumbledore’s arms. She was barely conscious.

“Fawkes!” the old wizard roared.

A bright note rang out as a small fireball exploded in the center of the room, and the Death Eaters trembled. The note turned into a startled squawk, however, as the phoenix tried to materialize. A ghastly green net of magic had somehow appeared around the bird and began to tighten. Fawkes flapped his wings desperately, trying to cut his way out of the net with his claws, but to no avail. The net was bringing the mighty bird down to earth, and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind what the outcome would be.

“Go!” Dumbledore shouted urgently. Fawkes’ head jerked up to stare at his wizard. “GO!” With a mournful note of apology and sorrow, Fawkes vanished in a ball of fire. Moments later the net hit the ground empty, burning into the floor with an angry hiss.
“Here,” Potter said sharply, holding out a half dozen wands. The old man held his right hand above them for a moment, then snatched the one on the far left. Potter broke the others spitefully, throwing the shards to the floor.

“I’ll try,” he said shortly. Dumbledore nodded, scanning the Death Eaters for danger and easily deflecting the few spells sent their way. Potter raised his wand and snapped it down in a practiced motion. For a moment he flickered, and Dumbledore’s breath caught hopefully. The next second, however, he was hurled painfully downward, hitting the ground with an audible thud.

The boy grimaced and rose, not bothering to brush himself off. “This way,” Potter ordered under his breath, raising his wand and firing off a vicious curse at the Death Eater to his left. “Hurry.” Dumbledore’s arms tightened around his precious burden as he followed, helping Potter deflect the myriad of curses sent at them, most poorly aimed due to the wretched retching of most of Voldemort’s circle.

They did not concern themselves with the Dark Lord himself. Twelve of the world’s most dangerous poisons were currently working their way through Voldemort’s system, and although they knew that he would quickly recover, for the moment he was out of their way.

Potter barely paused to open doors. If the door was locked, he blasted through it. If there was no door in the wall, he made one. The few Death Eaters that they crossed in the halls were quickly disposed of by some nasty curses from Potter and a few truly malicious ones from Dumbledore. Unlike the Death Eaters they fought, the two rescuers did not feel their injuries, major or minor. They would not pause, they would not stop, they knew no mercy. Potter in particular fought with a recklessness that surpassed even Gryffindor standards.

[Aurinko]

All in all, it probably took them only a few minutes to reach the small garden just outside the mansion, but even that was far too long for Dumbledore.

He could feel Minerva’s blood seeping through her robes and into his as they ran, the presence of that warm, sticky substance signaling the loss of their lifeblood. He could feel how cold her body was, weak from hunger, thirst, and blood loss. Worst of all, he could feel it as her breaths grew shallower and shallower against his chest until her body fell completely limp in his arms and his heart stopped. For a brief moment he felt a wrenching pain in his chest as if his beating heart had just been ripped from his body and set aflame, leaving him breathless.

“MINERVA!” Dumbledore screamed. He dropped slowly to the ground, cradling her body carefully, dead and dying vegetation all around them.

Ahead of him, Potter froze and whirled around, face stricken, eyes wide. “No,” the boy whispered, his mouth forming the word though little sound came out.

Dumbledore raised her head gently, stroking the bruised, dirt-streaked cheek with callused, trembling fingers as Potter stared at them in horror. “Wake up!” Dumbledore continued caressing her cheek softly, unaware that his tears were now falling freely, washing the dirt from her face. “Don’t do this to me, Minerva!”

In desperation, Dumbledore placed his left hand over her heart and took a deep breath. A brilliant violet light flared between them, and Potter watched in amazement as Albus’s magic flowed into Minerva. Agonized moments later, Minerva drew in a short, rasping breath, and Potter nearly cheered. Dumbledore, however, seemed unaware of this miraculous event and continued pouring his life-magic into her—face graying by the second as he slowly killed himself in his frenzied attempt to save her.

“Albus!” Potter cried sharply. “Stop it! She’s all right.” Seeing no visible reaction, the boy knelt down and slapped him hard across the face. “Dammit, we have to get out of here or we’ll all die! Now get up!”

Dumbledore blinked and looked up at him, blue eyes dazed. “Get up!” Potter roared. Fumbling, the old man attempted to obey but fell down hard, barely managing to break Minerva’s fall with his body.

Potter swore, loudly and creatively. “Here, give her to me,” he demanded. At the belligerent look in Dumbledore’s eyes, Potter’s expression hardened. “You can barely walk, and if we’re not gone in the next five minutes, none of us are ever going to leave. Now give her to me, for Merlin’s sake!”

Silently acknowledging Dumbledore’s threat of great harm, Potter carefully gathered up Minerva but did not rise from the ground. “Grab onto my arm,” he said. Dumbledore did so, and Potter rose slowly, adjusting to the double weight.

Gritting his teeth, the boy slowly guided the couple out through the little gate and beyond the inner wall. “Here,” he said shortly. Dumbledore nearly collapsed. Potter paused for a moment and then gently lowered Minerva into the old man’s arms. Satisfied that he held her with far more strength than Dumbledore had shown while walking, Potter rose. “Call Fawk—” Potter broke off with a gasp.

“What is it?”

“We’ve been here too long. The potion—it’s wearing off.” By the end of the statement, the boy’s voice had deepened, turning into the smooth, familiar tones of Hogwarts’ Potions Master. Severus Snape looked flatly ridiculous in school robes at least two sizes too small for him. “Bloody hell,” he cursed softly, looking down at himself in disgust. “Hurry up and call Fawkes; we can’t stay here.”

When asked, he would say that he acted purely on instinct.

Later, he would recall with satisfaction that the killing curse required pure, unadulterated hatred.

Finally, in the privacy of his own quarters, deep in the heart of the dungeons and surrounded by Slytherin green, he would wonder why he mourned the death of Lucius Malfoy.

Severus’s sharp ears caught rasping of the garden door just before it burst open. Someone had caught up with them. His borrowed wand was up in a flash, and the Dark Magic flowed freely through the fouled contraption. He could not be seen; they could not be taken. Expediency was the way of war.

“Avada Kedavra!”

The Death Eater fell without a sound as the bright green light struck him square in the chest, his wand falling from lifeless fingers. Severus could not say what possessed him to pull back the mask and see which of the men with whom he had gone out for drinks he had just killed. As soon as he touched the material he knew. Only Lucius Malfoy would own Death Eater robes of silk. Stumbling backwards as if burned, Severus stared down at the corpse of the man who had once been his best friend.

Behind him, Albus demanded his attention. “It’s time to go.” The younger man turned to find Fawkes on the shoulder of his mentor. He had somehow missed the bird’s arrival. Silently, Severus picked up the fallen wand, pocketed it, and grasped Fawkes’ bright tail. Then, in a flash, they were gone.

A/N: Kudos to anyone who figured it all out; my apologies to those of you who got confused!

[Aurinko]

Chapter Ten: Another Arrival

They landed in a jumbled heap in the center of one of St. Mungo’s private wards. The sanitized smell of the hospital struck his nostrils first, followed by a deluge of white walls.

Safe, Severus thought hazily.

Beside him, Albus shuddered violently. “POPPY!”

Severus heard a woman’s single frightened gasp before a cacophony of sound descended. His ears caught the sound of various people running back and forth and he felt strong arms lifting him up and pulling him away.

“She’s not breathing!” Somehow Albus’s simple, panicked statement cut through the hubbub, only to cause more panic. Severus swayed dangerously on his feet, only to be grasped more firmly by his helper. To his disgust, he found that the werewolf was the one supporting him. Throwing off Lupin like a dog with water on its coat, Severus shook his head to clear it.

Poppy had Minerva on a stretcher and halfway out the door before Severus was cognizant enough to realize what was going on. “The ER, stat!” the school nurse shouted at the two young hospital assistants with her. Turning back to Albus her eyes narrowed. Two flicks of her wand and Albus was following Minerva again, this time flat on his back courtesy of a magical stretcher.

After Albus and Minerva had been taken out, Poppy following in tow, Severus collapsed heavily into one of the room’s hard wooden chairs. He leaned back slightly but did not relax. A quick glance at the clock revealed the time as just forty-eight minutes past midnight. So little time for so much blood, he thought numbly. So much blood…

Lupin was discreetly taking care of the bloodstains on the floor, but the sight of the bright red on white was burned into the back of his brain. Minerva’s blood, all over the floor…Lucius’s blood on your hands—

“Severus?” Molly questioned gently, interrupting his train of thought as she stepped away from her husband and towards him. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Severus said sourly, knowing that the meddling woman would never just leave her inquiry there. He turned away and crossed his arms, discreetly observing her from the corner of his eye.

Indeed, Molly frowned, her face taking on that stern expression that her children knew quite well. Damn. ”Severus, you can’t just—”

Thankfully, at just that moment the door opened with a bang. A tall, dark-haired young woman wearing a heavy traveling cloak strode in, blue eyes fierce and frantic. Lupin leapt up in surprise, wand at the ready, but she ignored the werewolf. Spotting Severus sitting in the corner, she veered towards him immediately. “Where are they?” she demanded, completely ignoring the other three people in the room.

She took one look at his face as he turned towards her and sucked in a sharp breath. I must look worse than I thought, Severus noted abstractedly. “The emergency room,” he said quietly, desperately trying to ignore the stunned, stricken expression on her face.

“Are they all right?” she whispered, eyes wide and suddenly vulnerable as she fiddled nervously with her hands.

Severus suddenly felt the need to lie, and lie well. He paused for a moment and then looked up at her, offering her a dry smile. He shook his head slightly. “You worry too much,” he said lightly, his tone admonishing. “They’ll be fine.”

She was too distracted to notice his hesitation. “Thank Merlin,” she said, letting out a loud breath. “Can I see them?” she asked hopefully.

Severus shook his head regretfully. “They’re still in…the mediwizards are still…not yet,” he snapped finally, exasperated with his fumbling speech. Some spy you are, Severus!

“But they’ll be all right?” she insisted, intent on his face.

“They’ll be just fine,” he promised again, this time without hesitation.

She closed her eyes for a moment and stood very still, as if processing that information. “Thank you, Severus,” she said finally, opening her eyes slowly. Severus resisted the urge to sigh in relief as she slumped into the seat next to him, appearing utterly spent. He allowed her the time to collect herself, giving a discreet “let me handle this” wave to the three Order members watching them intently. Sure enough, she turned to face him moments later. “What happened? And what are you wearing?” she asked, her voice hinting of amusement at the last.

[Aurinko]

Severus looked down at himself and grimaced again. “It’s a long story,” he said shortly.
“I have time,” she replied lightly, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow skeptically. Despite her easy tone, Severus could see that she bit her lip nervously and her fingers clenched her upper arms tightly.

Frowning, Severus turned to Lupin. “My wand?”

Lupin said nothing. Fishing the desired article out of his pocket, he slowly handed it over to Severus, who resisted the urge to snatch it from his hands.

Beside him, the young woman sighed, rose, and drew her wand. “Allow me,” she said sarcastically, before casting a complex series of spell that left the room glowing faintly for a moment. She turned back to Severus, slightly exasperated. “Satisfied?”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Not entirely,” he said archly. She rolled her eyes childishly. Ignoring the small voice in his head that suggested perhaps this was not one of his best ideas, Severus cast a few more privacy spells on the room. He sheathed his wand with a flourish, inclining his head slightly to the woman on his left. “Now, what was it you wanted to know?” he asked solicitously.

She laughed despite herself, and although the sound was slightly strained, a little tension left her shoulders. A smug smile tugged at the corners of Severus’s mouth. Ten points to Slytherin. “Oh, Severus…” Her half-delighted, half-exasperated tone was painfully familiar. “You’re impossible.”

She glanced down at him and sobered immediately. “What happened, Severus?” Damn it, man, control yourself! “I got your note three hours ago. Your owl was quite insistent, I might add,” she said with a wry smile. “Crazy animal hooted loud enough to wake up the whole neighborhood.” Severus smirked, playing along with her attempts to distract herself. “Do you know how infuriatingly vague your blasted missive was?”
He shook his head; he really didn’t know. After all, he’d written to her only a few hours before his “appointment,” and how much of his sanity he’d retained at that point was rather questionable. Severus ignored the slight pounding in the back of his head and attempted to focus on her words. “Read it,” she ordered, thrusting a small slip of paper at him.

Severus unfolded the tiny paper slowly. It had been crinkled, creased, and crumpled more times than he cared to count. A slight pang of guilt struck him, quickly suppressed by the larger logical portion of his brain. He glanced down at the parchment.

You’re needed at home. It’s urgent. Come now. S.

Severus looked up at her, a slight smile playing on his lips. He had been rather brief, he supposed. “Yes?”

Her small hands tightened into fists and her lips thinned. “Have you any idea what it’s like to get a note like that? Do you know how long I spent trying to figure out if this was some cruel prank to get me to fly across the bloody channel? What happened? ”

“Well did you?” he asked curiously.

“Did I what?” she snapped.

“‘Fly across the bloody channel?’” Severus wondered idly how long he could keep her distracted enough to avoid telling her the truth.

Her eyes widened indignantly. “No,” she growled. “Since you were so wonderfully unspecific about the ‘urgency’ of the matter, I apparated five times to get here faster. I considered apparating directly, but I probably would’ve splinched myself twice over.” She glared at him. “You could have been a little more specific, you know.”

“I was a little preoccupied at the time,” he returned evenly, offering her the paper back. She snatched it out of his hand and plunged it into her pocket, still glaring at him. “You came, didn’t you?”

“Yes, you bastard, I came,” she said angrily. “Anyone else would have given me an explanation.”

“Then it worked just fine, didn’t it?” he replied, closing his eyes slightly. Why am I so tired?

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare, Severus Snape!” His eyes flew open, startled that they now matched the shock in hers. “What?” she said softly, reaching down to brush her fingers against a damp spot on his school robes. When they came away bloody, her eyes widened even more. “Why didn’t you say anything?” she demanded, drawing her wand and rising from her seat. Severus was too tired to object or defend himself.

Muttering quietly to herself about the stupidity of men, she sliced his robes open from neck to navel with a single spell, and gasped loudly at the sight of the bleeding sore in his side. “Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked him again, tearful this time.
“Didn’t want to…worry you,” he replied hoarsely, hissing as she pulled back his shirt gently. The removal of the tight fabric had ripped away the partially-formed scab and stung terribly.

“Idiot,” she told him, blinking back tears. Raising her wand again, she cast a series of powerful healing charms that left him tingling. “Anywhere else?”

“Left shoulder,” he replied shortly, doing his level best to remain upright.

Shaking her head, she cast another spell to slice his sleeve open and pulled away the rags. Severus sucked in a sharp breath as the movement tore open the wound again and felt her shake a little. Silently, she cast the required charms. “Is that it?” she asked, knowing that he would have already assessed his injuries, though he was too stubborn to ask for help.

Severus shook his head weakly and the young woman nodded. She cast a few more spells to help heal the small scratches and bruises adorning his body and clean him up. The young woman inspected him carefully. Apparently satisfied with the state of his injuries, she cast one last spell.

“Diana!” Severus exclaimed, finding himself suddenly attired in fitting robes of a deep green.

The young woman raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather have them in Gryffindor red?”
Severus backed down hastily, and she smiled. “Much better,” she declared. Turning to the others in the room, she finally introduced herself. After she interrogated, stripped and redressed me to her liking, Severus noted sourly. Blasted, meddling Gryffindors.

[Aurinko]

Chapter Eleven: Unpleasant Explanations

[/center]

The young woman turned and offered her hand to Lupin. “Diana Rowe,” she said shortly. “I’m a friend of Severus’s.”

“I see,” the werewolf replied as he shook her hand, though it was clear that he did not. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Rowe. Where did you learn all that?” he asked admiringly, gesturing towards Severus.

“The healing spells? Oh, my aunt taught me those a long time ago. I got into a number of scrapes as a child and she got tired of cleaning me up every time my father brought me to her in a panic.” She smiled sadly, momentarily lost in fond memories she now obviously found painful.

Undoubtedly familiar with the sensation himself, Lupin frowned. “I’m Remus Lupin, by the way,” he said pleasantly, deliberately interrupting her train of thought.

Diana blinked and looked up at the werewolf in confusion. “Pardon?”

“Remus Lupin,” he repeated. The brief flash of recognition and anger in her eyes was unmistakable, and Severus felt a surge of triumph as the werewolf dropped her gaze. Diana glanced at Severus, unsure, and he nodded slightly.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lupin,” Diana said quietly. They stared at each other uneasily for a moment longer, and then Molly intervened.

“Molly Weasley,” she said neutrally, disrupting the little tableau, “and this is my husband, Arthur.”

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley,” Diana replied warmly. “I’ve heard all about you two. The Headmaster finds your sons’ shop particularly innovative. He sent me a few of their products. They’ve managed to integrate Muggle and magical inventions ingeniously.”

Both Weasley parents beamed and Severus resisted the urge to smirk. A small bark of laughter escaped him, and all three of them turned to look at him darkly.

Complimenting the children and mentioning Muggles. Very good, Diana.

Not all of us are intentionally unpleasant, Severus, she shot back, turning to face the Weasleys again.

“Again, a pleasure to meet you two.” Severus rolled his eyes mentally. You haven’t met their monsters yet, he thought to himself.

“Now, will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Diana demanded, having dispensed with the pleasantries.

“No!” Severus said sharply.

They all turned to stare at him incredulously.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Diana said dangerously. “Just who do—”

“Sit down, Diana,” Severus snapped. His dark eyes met her blazing blue ones squarely. I think I’m the only one in this room who knows why you’re here, he said brusquely. I’m also the only one who knows what happened.

Much to everyone’s surprise she obeyed, glaring at him fiercely the whole time. Sometimes, Severus, you make it very easy for people to hate you.

You’re not the first to think so. “Facio secretum,” Severus said calmly. A clear, hazy dome rose around them. “They can neither hear us nor see us,” he told her.

“Then tell me what the hell happened!” she practically screamed at him, throwing her hands down in desperation. ”Dammit, Severus, I can’t just—”

“—Voldemort kidnapped Minerva and tried to use her against Albus,” Severus said flatly. “We just rescued her.”

Diana froze instantly, her hand half-raised, her mouth slightly open as she gaped at him. “What?” she said softly, her voice barely a thread of air.

Severus sighed deeply before meeting her eyes, instantly apologetic. “We don’t know how yet, but Voldemort found out about them. Minerva was kidnapped last week;—”

Diana’s eyes closed momentarily. “Oh Merlin,” she breathed painfully.

“—Voldemort wanted to trade her for the Potter boy. Tonight—”

Suddenly Diana was on her feet, thrusting an accusing finger into Severus’s chest. “Wait one minute. A week?” she exclaimed angrily. “You didn’t tell me that my mother had been kidnapped for a week?”

“No,” Severus replied evenly, ignoring her antics. Diana was up and pacing furiously as if the action would somehow dispel the rage and worry he knew she would otherwise direct at him. He appreciated the gesture, especially as every time she muttered “one week” under her breath, her right hand tightened on her wand.

Suddenly she whipped around to face him. “In Merlin’s name, why?” she questioned, her voice breaking at the last.

“Diana,” Severus said gently. “As much as he likes me, your father would have killed me for telling you.”

She frowned, startled. “Dad?”

“You would have come here immediately—” he began.

“—Well, of course—” she interrupted, nonplussed.

“—And then you’d have demanded to be involved in the rescue, which he never would have allowed.” Diana shrugged, finding no fault with his reasoning so far, and Severus nodded in satisfaction. “You would have tried to help anyway. Albus would have made me watch you every minute of every hour of every day. Then if you’d gotten away and anything had happened to you, he would have killed me.” If Minerva didn’t get to me first—after we survived trying to save you from your own Gryffindor stupidity.

Diana paused in her pacing, testing Severus’s sequence of events. Her shoulders slumped a little. “What do you mean, ‘if’ I got away?” she asked him finally, the strained smile she offered him indicating that she had forgiven his trespass—almost. There was a tense note to her tone and stiffness to her shoulders that should not have been there, but Severus was willing to accept that small loss in face of the larger victory.

[Aurinko]

Severus slumped back in his chair in relief. He simply wasn’t made to handle the McGonagall women. He didn’t know how Albus had survived the last thirty years with his daughter, let alone the last fifty with his wife. “Think you can outsmart me?” Severus asked a moment later, raising an eyebrow.

“I know it,” she replied, smirking. “Severus, my mother can—” Diana broke off suddenly, blue eyes wide and pained. “Tell me the rest of it, now.”

Severus nodded wordlessly, his throat suddenly tight. He stared at a point on the wall as he spoke, unable to meet Diana’s eyes. “Albus was supposed to trade Potter for Minerva at midnight. We—the Order, that is—had it all planned out. Aberforth was supposed to go as Albus; I would play Potter. Somehow Albus managed to switch places with Aberforth—I should have noticed,” Severus said, his tone sharpening in annoyance. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder but refused to allow himself to relax. “Aberforth never could have put on such a performance. We played straight into Voldemort’s hands. Albus was damned lucky that Lucius…” Here Severus swallowed hard, and Diana’s gaze sharpened. “…that Lucius had thrown a dinner party the night before. I was able to put a delayed poison in the soup, and drop a different mixture into Voldemort’s glass at the Revel that night.”

Diana looked up at him fearfully. “They won’t find you out?”

“I doubt it. Voldemort’s become arrogant. It’s made him stupid,” Severus said scathingly. “There are too many people at these parties, and not all of them are associated with the Cause.” The last word was audibly capitalized and cuttingly sarcastic.

Diana nodded, but the fear had not quite left her eyes. She opened her mouth to object, but Severus beat her to it. “Don’t say anything, Diana. I have to do this.” She shook her head at him in obvious disapproval, and he smiled slightly. “Minerva says the same thing. You two should compare notes sometime.”

“We do,” Diana replied with a tearful smile, “every week. You’re always on the agenda.” She swallowed and looked up at him. “How is she, Severus—truthfully?”

Severus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “She’ll be all right, Diana. Your mum’s a tough lady.”

Blue eyes narrowed. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“If you don’t believe me, then why don’t we check to see if you’ll be allowed to see her yet?”

Still eyeing him suspiciously, Diana nodded. Severus noted with a slight pang that she had begun to toy with her hands again. There were severe disadvantages to having people know you well.

Without a word, Severus gathered her in his arms and hugged her tightly. Diana stiffened within his embrace but he refused to let her go. Finally she relaxed, shedding a few bitter tears into the fabric of his new robes. Her suppressed sobs shook her entire body and she gasped for breath, now crying freely into his shoulder.

Severus sighed softly. “It will be all right,” he promised again, wondering if he had gained the capacity for the repetition of inane sentiments from his time with the Death Eaters. He held her, stroking her back gently, until her tears were temporarily spent. For a moment she simply relaxed against his chest, breathing deeply. When she was ready to face the world again she straightened, releasing the fistful of his robes she had clutched in her frenzy. With a teary smile she smoothed out the folds of his robes, wiped her eyes, and then nodded to him.

“Finite incantatum.”

“Oh good, you’re done,” Molly said when they reappeared. “The nurse says we can’t see them,” she informed them frostily, shooting a glare at the brown-haired mediwitch standing by the door.

They both turned to look at the white-robed woman. “I’m sorry, but only family is allowed to see them.”

“Good,” Diana replied, pulling herself together. “Come on, Severus.” Without waiting for a reply she headed for the door, catching his hand and dragging him along. “Which room?” she asked the mediwitch abruptly.

“But you’re not—and he’s not—”

“Yes, I am,” Diana snapped angrily. “And so is he. Now, which room are they in?” Severus thought it was the underlying threat of violence in her voice, rather than her claim, that won them the information.

“255.”

Either way, they were out of the room and down the hall before the woman had a chance to get another word out.

A/N: I'd really appreciate it if you told me what you thought of Diana. I had a short debate with my beta if I should add her. She was in favor, so I did. I wanted to give them a child, because they'd make such great parents. So, what do you think so far?

[tayryn]

i am so glad they rescued her! poor Minerva!

i think i missed something somewhere... an update or something... 'cause i was a little lost at one point... but that, like i say, is probably me missing an update, or losing that mysterious hour last night! lol

as for Diana... i like her! she was a nice addition!! very reminiscent of her mother!

[Jaya]

Love Diana.... she is her mother's daughter... and I'm still enjoying Snape... He's still nasty and sarcastic to the order yet with Diana... well, I think I'll wait for the next chapter....

Jaya

[Sola]

And again...GREAT!

Snape and Diana are realy great!...perfect match...again...

For Diana...wonderfull that ya added a daughter....she IS quite a McGonagall/Dumbledore!

And again....Snape is sooo cool in this!...coming from me this means SOMETHING...I guess....

Anyway....you're not planing to end here...are ya?

Sola

[AngelQueen]

Wow... this story is absolutely wonderful! *jaw is on the floor* I was crying during that entire scene with Riddle and I just wanted to blast him, the snake... Oooh! *growls fiercely* How dare he harm Minerva...

I rather think that the addition of Diana was a good one. She provides a new element to the story, allowing us to see at least a piece of this through her eyes as she watches her obviously beloved parents suffer.

However, just to be different, I was rather thinking Diana and Severus would be better as friends or almost-siblings. To have them get together just seems cliché to me... *pauses to think about the whole can of worms that would be opened if Diana were already married or something*

Still, whatever you want to write will be alright with me! I'll love it either way!

Again, absolutely wonderful story! Can't wait for more!

AQ

[Aurinko]

Chapter Twelve: In Room 255

[/center]

A/N: At long last (I'm so sorry, guys!), I present chapter 12 in answer to the question "how are they?"

Thanks to my beta, Flying Auk, who as always reprimanded me for shorting on the description, and thank you to everyone who reviewed!

---

Minerva blinked painfully and drew in a ragged, rasping breath. Eyes gently closed, she carefully catalogued her injures in an all-too-familiar routine. Her chest was terribly sore again, and although her breath rattled in her body, she no longer felt as though her lungs would collapse in flames at any moment. Her right arm throbbed in time with her heartbeat, but she knew that the shattered bone fragments had been refused and were now safely encased in a tight cast, as was her left leg, which merely itched. Best of all, for the first time in seven days Minerva felt clean. It was wonderful.

With a little sigh of contentment she slid a little farther to the right and nestled her head against her companion’s shoulder, leaning back into his chest. A gentle hand brushed back her hair and then pulled her closer. Eyes still closed, Minerva smiled slightly. Having Albus beside her was better than all the medicine in St. Mungo’s, and thankfully her primary care physician and old friend knew it well. Having a husband who was quite handy with wandless magic take down the bars and merge the beds while the nurse was out didn’t hurt, either.

Someone knocked on the door quietly, and Minerva resisted the urge to groan. The intruder opened it after a moment’s silence. Minerva pretended to be asleep—if the mediwizards wanted to poke her again, they would have to wake their patient first.

She heard light footsteps as one—no, two—figures moved towards her bed, the door swinging shut behind them. Neither spoke, but Minerva’s Animagus-enhanced ears caught a sharp intake of breath and some agitated rustling of robes. What was wrong? All right, you win. I’m curious, she admitted, opening her eyes slowly as they adjusted to the light.

“Oh God,” a familiar voice choked. Minerva’s eyes flew open; beside her, she heard Albus stir.

“Diana?” Minerva croaked hoarsely, reaching out with her left hand blindly. How did she get here? Behind her she could feel Albus rising, helping her into an upright position firmly braced against his chest.

“I’m here, Mum,” her daughter sobbed, catching Minerva’s hand in both of hers immediately. “Oh God, Mum, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mum,” she finished in a whisper, tears streaming down her face.

Oh, Diana…you’re too much like both of us for your own good. Minerva looked down at her daughter and smiled slightly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “It wasn’t your fault, darling.”

Diana shook her head furiously. “I should have helped. I should’ve found out and come for you. I never should have left in the first place and—”

“—And let your mother be captured by your enemies, just as I did?” Albus interrupted, the lightness of his tone belying the serious self-condemnation in his eyes. Minerva turned to face him sharply, disapproval written across her features, but he ignored her, his attention fixed upon their daughter.

“But you didn’t,” Diana replied instantly, looking up at her father with a frown. “You’d never let anything happen to Mum…” Diana trailed off, finally understanding the significance in his regard, even as she registered the sharp flash of self-castigation.

“There’s more than enough self-blame in this family to go around,” Minerva declared. “Let it go,” she ordered firmly, staring down both her husband and her daughter in turn. After a minute both nodded reluctantly, a light color in Diana’s cheeks and a little pallor in Albus’s. Just like the fifth years, Minerva thought with a slight smile. “That includes you, too, Severus,” she added without turning around.

Minerva heard Diana’s laughter as she turned around to face Severus, and knew instantly what she would find. Indeed, the young man’s dark eyes were wide and more than a little incredulous. Severus composed his face almost immediately, but all three Dumbledores were already smiling.

Severus raised an eyebrow archly. “Me, Minerva? Unlike you three Gryffindors,” he drawled, lips quirking slightly as he attempted not to smile, “we Slytherins don’t bother blaming ourselves for events beyond our control.” Albus, Minerva, and Diana looked at each other. The youngest shrugged slightly, wordlessly acknowledging the indisputable truth; the eldest smiled knowingly at the speaker. “On the other hand, when those events go in our favor, of course we planned them.”

Albus laughed outright; the two ladies glared them. Severus smirked at them all.

Even Severus Snape conceded defeat, however, when Minerva reiterated herself after his performance anyway. A moment’s silence had fallen before Minerva spoke, the marked gravity of her voice giving them pause. “My capture was You-Know-Who’s—oh, all right,” she grumbled, looking at Albus, “—Voldemort’s fault. Only Voldemort’s fault.” Her green eyes met Diana’s, Albus’s, and Severus’s in turn. Every one of them dropped her gaze.

[Aurinko]

Minerva smiled in satisfaction. Good. “Thank you,” she said softly, turning to Severus, who stood watching her in slight confusion. “Thank you for saving my life—and for keeping my daughter away from danger.” Severus nodded solemnly in acknowledgement; beside him, Diana’s eyes blazed but she remained strangely silent, staring instead at the white gauze bandages that bound Minerva’s chest.

Minerva resisted the urge to shout; breathing was difficult enough. “Is it wrong for me to want to keep you safe?” she asked her daughter quietly.

“Yes!” Diana exclaimed heatedly, taking a sharp breath when she realized what she had done. Seeing Minerva’s unmoved expression, she continued in a quieter, though equally animated voice. “You didn’t try to keep Severus away from danger! You were…you could have been…” Diana struggled with the thought and Minerva’s heart constricted painfully at her daughter’s stricken expression. “You didn’t tell me!” she shouted finally. “Severus is a—he works for Dad doing Merlin-knows-what every day. You get kidnapped and nobody thinks to tell me?”

All three of them observed her calmly and said nothing.

“Dad?” Diana asked tearfully, a mix of disbelief and anger dominating her expression.

Albus hesitated. “I love you,” he told Diana, the open honesty in his manner making his daughter swallow hard. “I’m your father. It’s my job to keep you safe. No matter how I do it,” he finished, meeting his daughter’s eyes without a hint of remorse.

“What about Mum?” Diana asked, knowing a dead end when she saw one. Minerva’s ears perked up and she looked at her husband questioningly, intrigued.

“Sweetheart, if I thought your mother would let me get away with it, I’d have her in France with you in a heartbeat, safely installed in a house with twice as many wards as you let me put on your flat.” Diana’s eyes widened fractionally; Minerva raised an eyebrow. Albus had put a record twenty-two wards on Diana’s flat, each more complex and powerful than the last, making their little girl’s flat quite possibly the safest place in France. “Actually, we do have a house there,” Albus suggested mildly. Minerva looked at him sharply.

“No.” Her voice was adamantine. The two professors stared at each other and the room suddenly shrunk in size. Minerva’s chin was lifted, defiant, as she faced down her husband. Albus’s expression was desperate, pleading, as he reached for her hands.

Minerva, please!

No. Minerva set her jaw determinedly. Never.

He knows about you now, Albus said, swallowing, the pain etched across his face shaking her resolve. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here now.

Hogwarts is safe.

There was an infinitesimal pause. No, it’s not, Albus said softly. Minerva’s heart twinged. She knew how much it had cost Albus to admit that.

It’s the safest place in England, Minerva asserted calmly, touching his arm in a show of support.

Albus shook his head. It’s not nearly safe enough anymore.
Minerva’s face darkened. If it’s safe enough for Harry, then it’s safe enough for me, she challenged, frowning deeply.

No. Now it was Albus’s turn to become stone.

Minerva’s eyes narrowed. So Hogwarts is safe enough for a half-trained boy but not for an ex-Unspeakable? We’ve been over this before. I’m not leaving you.

Things have changed. They know now. They’ll be after you as my wife, not just because you’re my second. He paused for a moment; her expression remained unyielding. I can’t risk losing you, Minerva! Albus exclaimed, throwing his hands up. She heard a rustle of cloth as someone started at Albus’s sudden violence.

Like I risk losing you? she countered immediately. We’ve talked about this before. We agreed to keep our marriage a secret because you wanted to protect me. That’s never protected you, Albus. The risks haven’t changed, not for me. The only way I’m leaving you in this life is dead.

Albus flinched and looked away, breaking their connection. From the corner of her eye, Minerva saw Diana whispering to Severus, who relaxed a little, though he still eyed Albus warily.

Albus sighed deeply and Minerva returned her attention to her husband. Minerva, I can’t…I can’t do this without you. Again, she faltered a little at the unadulterated truth in his words, knowing them as nothing less than the defining aspect of the part of his soul that belonged solely to her.

You won’t have to, she replied firmly. I’m not leaving you. Ever.

Minerva, please! Albus tried one last time to persuade her, reaching out to her in supplication.

Never.

The flash of agony that tore across his features at her final declaration was like a knife to the heart. Minerva reached up to cup Albus’s face gently, asking him to look at her. “I love you,” she whispered gently.

He closed his eyes for a long moment, then caught her hand and pressed it to his lips. And I love you. God, Minerva, how I love you. The blaze in his blue eyes was everything she had dreamed of as a girl, everything she could still barely believe she had. They drew closer—

“We’re going now,” their daughter announced loudly. Albus and Minerva started, blinked, and then turned to face their nervous child, identical smiles appearing on their faces as they realized the source of her discomfort.

“Right now,” Severus muttered, shaking his head in disgust. The slight color in his cheeks betrayed him, however, and their smiles widened appreciably.

Albus laughed. “Can it be true? I do believe that Severus is actually embarrassed by us, Minerva!”

“I’m always embarrassed by you,” Severus muttered grouchily, glaring at both of them. Much to his chagrin, Albus only laughed harder.

“Are you sure you want to go? We’ll behave,” Minerva promised, the hint of mischief in her voice alarming her daughter even more.

“Yes,” Diana confirmed hurriedly. “We’ll go tell the other Order members that you’re all right and then come see you in the morning, all right?”

“That’s fine, sweetheart,” Albus said to Diana while looking at Minerva.

“Sleep well, Mum, Dad,” Diana said, giving them each a kiss on the cheek in turn. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Severus and Diana were out the door in seconds. Minerva laughed as the door closed behind them and turned to Albus. “Now, where were we?” she asked, smiling.

“Just about to go to bed, I believe,” Albus replied blandly, his eyes twinkling madly.

“Oh, yes,” Minerva replied, leaning back against the pillows—and Albus—with a yawn.

“Goodnight, Albus.”

“Goodnight, Minerva.” She smiled at the smile in his voice, and they drifted off to sleep together.

---

A/N: So, what'd you think?