Best Laid Plans

The weeks following Harry's final days of school were a whirlwind of Order meetings and plans. The headmaster was patiently waiting for Harry to finish his final year at Hogwarts before he was inducted into the Order, and his training took on a whole new level of intensity. He was sure that hell couldn't even compare to the way he was feeling right now.

During the summer break, the Order had moved their meetings to Hogwarts, due in part to Harry's reluctant agreement to remain inside the confines of the castle walls. Remus had arrived at Hogwarts too and had told Harry that he was there to keep him company, though Harry knew that there was more to the story than even Remus was willing to tell.

His suspicions were confirmed with Severus's own admission of Lord Voldemort's plans for him to eliminate Remus Lupin, information that was shared only between the headmaster, Severus, Remus and Harry. Harry knew that the news would be broken to the most trusted members of the Order at tonight's meeting. He was curious to see how the remaining members would take the information and what plan they would come up with.

Harry was worried too about the Weasleys. Ron, in particular, had not written to him, not that he knew where the headmaster was keeping him. His parents knew, though he doubted they would relay important Order information even to their youngest son, Harry's best friend.

He resolved to ask Professor Dumbledore, next time they spoke, about inducting Ron into the Order. After all, he was involved in this war through his family and friends and was the most loyal friend he had.

Harry willed his abused body to climb up the remaining staircases to the private rooms he had been given on the second floor. He dearly wished, at times such as this, that he had been given rooms closer to the dungeons so as to be nearer to his tormentor. But that wasn't being totally fair to Severus. Harry knew that he was being trained for the forthcoming battle and that the Potions master was only endeavouring to prepare him, though his body saw it as a form of torture.

The dark-haired wizard had started his training on orders from Professor Dumbledore, and Harry thought it was particularly cruel and unusual punishment to make him run flat out around the replica lake in the Room of Requirement until he was heaving for breath and the air itself felt like a foreign object to his lungs.

He was careful to keep his wand on him at all times. Severus's lesson that first morning was a harsh one, but it could have been so much worse had the lesson taken place when confronted by Voldemort.

He had caught the smirk on Severus's face the second morning after his run and was about to explode in his usual temper, but something held him back. Perhaps it was the look in the older wizard's eye, or maybe the raised eyebrow that seemed to be mocking him into quitting. So he just took a deep breath and asked Severus what was next.

Not a day went by when he didn't think about Hermione and her sacrifice. Although it was not her choice to die, and a more gruesome and frightening death he could not imagine, he thought he would not be at the stage he was now without her help. Not for the first time, he thanked the gods that she had come into his life, no matter how briefly. He never voiced his thoughts, as he didn't want to dredge up the memories that were almost too painful to think about, even within the confines of his own mind. So instead, he pushed himself all the harder in training, the vivid memories of what he had seen in the Pensieve running through his head the entire time. No matter how much he had tried to will them away it was no good and in the end, he was determined to try to live with them.

Making it to his rooms, he quickly shut the door behind him before tossing his Invisibility Cloak on the end of the bed and collapsing onto the soft mattress face first. He knew he needed a shower, but now that he was in a horizontal position he couldn't will his body to get up.

And so he lay there, his mind awhirl, relaxing his abused body while he could.

***

With Harry's training stepping up a notch, Severus found himself busier than he was during the rest of the year when all the students were underfoot. With the Dark Lord's threat hanging over his head like a ghastly piece of mistletoe, he was finding himself quicker to demonstrate his ill-temper, with Potter being his central outlet.

He had to give the boy credit, though; he took it like a man and put more effort into whatever spell or training he was performing. Severus was suitably impressed, though he would rather suffer the Cruciatus than tell the boy this.

There had been many heated arguments within the headmaster's office, with Severus himself doing more than his fair share of shouting and pacing. He had argued with Albus as to what would transpire between Remus and himself. The headmaster assured him that it would all be taken care of when the time came. Severus had that dreadful sensation in the pit of his stomach that Albus was about to use his questionable morals once again for the side of the Light.

He knew there was a meeting tonight. Albus would tell the inner members of the Order about the orders given to Severus by his other master. He was not looking forward to it and wondered idly if he could feign some illness. Black Crow fever perhaps. No, he couldn't take that road, and he knew that he had to face the Order head on if he were ever to gain their trust and respect.

It was true that he hardly required it. It was only essential that he garner the trust of the Order's head member, Albus Dumbledore, but even he was using some dubious methods in these shaky times. Not that there was anything wrong with that; they were at war, but he couldn't help thinking that he should have handled the case of Miss Granger's disappearance with the decorum it deserved. At least he could have put some actual effort into finding the girl before dismissing all hope.

He knew that the Potter boy's newfound maturity was entirely due to the circumstances surrounding Miss Granger's disappearance and ultimate death. Although Albus himself had performed the Rem Celare not only on Potter but the youngest male Weasley spawn to make them believe that Miss Granger had indeed met her end, it still worried him that the old man was playing with the young man's mind, no matter how much he still despised the red-headed one.

He himself believed that there was little hope of finding Miss Granger alive. Too much time had passed. He acknowledged the signs of a highly proficient wizard that had performed the Obliviate on Mr and Mrs Granger. It had effectively erased from their minds the memory of their only child and nothing else.

The events pointed to a number of the Dark Lord's followers, but to Severus, it didn't quite add up. Why kidnap Miss Granger and Obliviate her parents, but not follow up by torturing and killing her, sending her body back to Potter in order to taunt him?

Still, something was gnawing at his insides, and he couldn't get the damn girl out of his mind. Was it guilt for the way he had treated her in class? No, he treated all of his students the same, except for his Slytherins. He could have marked her assignments a little easier; her work was always excellent, in truth. But the girl had irked him from day one – always with that damn arm flailing around in the air, always ready with the right response to any question, straight out of the textbook.

He had called her a know-it-all on numerous occasions. He only now saw how much self-recognition was involved in that epithet. He knew the intense desire to prove oneself as good as those who were pure-blood, but there was a more subtle way to go about it. She never realised how much her showing-off squashed the desire of the other children to learn.

Groaning, he put his face in his hands and scrubbed hard. He had bigger things to worry about than a know-it-all who had by now long left this plane of existence. She was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time, and no amount of revisiting the past would bring her back.

Why couldn't he just let her rest in peace and move on with his life? Or what little fragment of it that was still his own. He knew he would soon be joining her, wherever she may be. Not that he believed in an after-life. No... final oblivion would be welcome after the life he had led thus far.

***

The key players from within the Order were all seated around the oval table in an unused classroom where their leader held the Order's most private meetings. Albus had another classroom, which was much larger, but this particular room was selected for its location in the dungeons and its cosy size.

Dumbledore knew that the wizards and witches sitting in this room would not speak about what he was about to divulge to them, as he himself had placed charms on the room making it impossible for them to discuss the proceedings with anyone who was not in the room at the time. Any listening devices or spies would hear only a mixture of unintelligible words; therefore, he knew that what was about to be discussed would not leave the room.

He hated having to place the charms, but one could never be too careful where Tom Riddle was concerned. Perhaps he was paranoid, but paranoia had served him well in the last war.

He was torn from his thoughts as Arthur Weasley, who was seated on his left, bent towards the ageing headmaster and said in a low voice, "Any word on Hermione?"

Albus looked over towards Arthur, his face solemn as he shook his head.

"It's just that Molly worries so; you know she considered Hermione part of the family and used to fuss over her as though she were one of our own."

Albus nodded his head. "I know, Arthur, and believe me when I say that I am doing everything in my power to find her, but the war is my first priority, as it should be for all of us. I fear that there are no new leads on Miss Granger's whereabouts. I am truly sorry."

Albus looked into Arthur's cheerless eyes as he conveyed his condolences. He knew that Hermione was most likely dead, but he couldn't bring himself to tell the wizard, who had a heart of gold.

Nymphadora Tonks was seated on Remus's right, whispering in his ear. Remus went bright red for a moment before shaking his head. Tonks giggled girlishly and placed a hand on Remus's thigh under the table. Remus stiffened momentarily, then relaxed.

Severus looked around the table with hooded eyes. He felt too exposed seated around the table. He was used to shadows, the darkness, where he could hide himself away from the world and its accusing eyes. The eyes of the fallen, the eyes of those he had betrayed for the good of all, the green eyes of Lily Potter which he saw every day through her son as Severus trained him to become the next chess piece on Albus Dumbledore's board.

He wondered briefly whether Harry would succeed in the end. Whether he would vanquish the Dark Lord and whether the Wizarding World would hail him as a hero. No matter, for he himself would not live to see the end of that day, whenever it may come.

This brightly lit room was giving him a headache. He knew that they were there to discuss his orders, and he had to will himself to remain seated, not to fidget, and definitely not to pace the length of the small area.

His musings were abruptly halted when Moody limped into the room, his wooden leg beating out a cadence on the stone floor. Everyone seated at the small table turned to look at him, his magical eye swirling around within its socket.

"Bloody stairs," Moody growled out by way of explaining why he was late. He hobbled to his usual seat; the only other vacant seat was that of Mundungus Fletcher, who had already stated that he could not make the meeting. Mundungus was working on a lead that – he said – would ultimately be of assistance to the Order.

Albus drew his hands together in the fashion of a father welcoming his children back home. He stood, preparing to speak, and all eyes turned to face the powerful wizard.

"As we are all here, then I propose we begin. I have a matter of grave importance to discuss with you all tonight. Our able spy, Severus, has been asked to perform a most unforgivable act in order to show his allegiance to Voldemort."

All eyes turned towards Severus, who glared back at the looks of pity, curiosity and loathing that were cast in his direction. Albus cleared his throat and diverted the attention away from Severus and back to himself.

"As I was saying, Severus has been put in a most awkward position, and he must appear to obey this order to maintain his position as Voldemort's loyal follower. Therefore, I have come up with a plan to ensure that this act will be carried out and make it clear to Voldemort that Severus is once and for all in his camp."

"What are his orders?" Emmeline Vance asked.

"Ah, I was just about to get to that." Albus paused as the majority of the Order held its breath, waiting for the news.

Harry looked around the table at the various members. His heart was beating fast in his chest, and he wondered if he would die from a heart attack before the headmaster let everyone know of Severus's instructions to kill Remus.

"Unfortunately, there is no delicate way around this – Severus has been charged with killing Remus."

Initial gasps of disbelief and cries of outrage were heard around the table as all eyes focused on both Severus and Remus.

"As I was saying, Severus has been given the decidedly difficult task of killing Remus," the headmaster continued. "I have come up with a plan to ensure that this takes place."

"But, Albus, you can't be serious!" Hestia Jones spoke up. She looked flustered, as though she were about to faint.

"Of course I am, my dear; when have you ever known me to jest about such things?" Hestia just shook her head as she quivered in her seat. Minerva placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"We shall not be sacrificing Remus; he is too valuable to the cause, as are you all. He has made immense progress with the werewolves in the north, and if we were to lose him now, they would slip back into the darkness, something we cannot afford. No, instead we shall be using someone else, someone who has volunteered for the job in a Polyjuiced version of Remus. Someone without whom, I fear, Severus would be unable to complete his task and would no longer be able to return to Voldemort's side, thereby causing us to lose all the valuable information that he risks his life for each time he returns to Voldemort."

"But Polyjuice ceases to work on the dead, Albus," Moody growled out, "any competent potions maker will tell you that."

"Indeed, it does not. Therefore I propose that Severus burns the body before anyone sees it," Albus stated, looking pointedly at Severus, who inclined his head slightly.

Severus had previously discussed with Albus the fact that he was being followed by Death Eaters. Although he never saw them, he knew they were there and also that the Dark Lord had directed them to tail him whenever he was not within the walls of the castle, to make sure that he carried out his plans to the letter.

"I already have someone in mind to take Remus's place." The old wizard paused. "He has already agreed to do all he can and would be grateful for even a short time in a healthy body."

"What's the matter with him – and can he be trusted?" Moody asked, his magical eye spinning wildly within its socket. He seemed to be thinking through the plan with his usual mantra of 'constant vigilance' running through his head.

"He prefers to remain anonymous, and I trust him." At Moody's brief nod, Albus continued. "The good medi-witches and wizards at St. Mungo's have done all they can for him." Albus lowered his head in a show of respect for his friend.

"He has lived a full life and feels that dying for our cause would be the best way to end his life on his own terms." Kingsley nodded his head, agreeing with the old wizard that it was indeed a very selfless act.

Albus reseated himself, and after a few brief minutes of silence when everyone in the Order was lost in their own thoughts, Albus stirred in his seat. "Now, if there is anything else anyone would like to discuss, I suggest you do so now, as we are all in for a busy night."

When no one posed any other questions, still too lost in their thoughts, Albus spoke. "I believe, Remus, that you should appoint someone else to converse with the werewolves, as they will still need their monthly Wolfsbane, and you, being dead, will not be able to take it to them." He looked at Tonks, who opened her mouth to speak and then abruptly shut it once more.

"It is settled then. I shall leave that up to you to organise, Remus, though I fear that Voldemort's anger will fall on Severus if he waits much longer to carry out this task. I am afraid, Remus, that once your death has come to pass, you will be under similar conditions as young Harry here. You must not be seen, if Severus is to pull off this ruse."

Remus nodded his head, a steely look of determination crossing his face as he returned Tonks's earlier squeeze under the table.

***

Draco was confused. A situation he would never freely admit to anyone.

His father, a wizard who always had time for his only son and protégé, was not acting himself lately.

He had seen his mother yesterday for the first time in a week. His father had told him she was feeling ill, and he had thought nothing of it. However, when he had seen her yesterday, he had to hold in a gasp and stop himself from running into her arms and asking her if she was alright. She was limping slightly, and her face had various bruises and cuts that looked as though they were days old, as they were already healing. Why hadn't she used a potion or charm to heal them? One look at his father showed him that he would not allow it, and he turned back to his mother and saw, for the first time in his life, fear in her eyes, and it was directed at her husband.

Something was wrong here. Very, very wrong.

He had heard the spectacular yelling coming from his parents' bedroom more frequently of late, and he was worried about what was going on with his father. When questioned about it, his father had raised his silver cane to his throat, the threat of violence in the air. His father had never laid a hand on Draco before; what had changed?

He had no one to turn to regarding his father's increasingly volatile temperament, and for the first time in his life he felt isolated. His friends, if one could call them that, would never understand the complexities of his problems, and besides, they weren't smart enough to come up with a solution anyway.

No, a Malfoy didn't air his dirty laundry for all to see. A Malfoy stood tall and proud. That was one thing his father had taught him. Right now, Draco wished he was anybody but a Malfoy; and then he would be able to save his mother, a woman he loved more than himself, from the harm caused to her from the man she loved. His father.

Draco didn't know what was happening with his father, but he knew he didn't like it one tiny bit.

***

Severus was seated behind his desk, going over this week's strategy for the Order. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a weary hand. He knew he would have to go through with Albus's hair-brained scheme, though he did not like it. There was too much room for error. An unknown wizard, Polyjuiced to look like the werewolf; a thousand things could go wrong.

And then there were the werewolves that Lupin had befriended to the north. What would become of them? Though they were not his concern, he believed they would play a strong part in the coming battle, and he shuddered to think that they may still turn back towards the Dark if Lupin didn't convince them otherwise.

Yes, it was a pain to have to brew so much Wolfsbane each month, but though he complained regularly to the headmaster, he didn't truly mind, not if it meant that his potion could swing the war in their favour.

Hanging his head in his hands, he sighed once more. He knew he was being tracked whenever he was outside the school gates by his fellow Death Eaters. They were waiting for him to slip up; the Dark Lord didn't trust him and with good reason. Therefore, he had to be additionally watchful whenever he left the confines of Hogwarts, without appearing to be so.

'How has my life come to this?' he thought ruefully.

A quiet knock at his door made his head jerk up. Sitting up straighter and plastering a frown upon his face, he barked, "Enter," at the unwelcome guest.

The door opened to reveal a smiling Remus Lupin.

"Ah, if this is a bad time, Severus, I can come back later," he said, already moving towards the desk and closing the door behind him.

Severus glared at the wizard, his usual look of contempt on his features.

"By all means, Lupin, come in, make yourself at home," he sneered, standing and sweeping his right arm in an arc.

Remus ducked his head shyly, but nevertheless took up the seat across from Severus, folding his legs neatly under the desk. He looked up at the Potions master expectantly.

"I thought," he began when the raven-haired man sat down once more, "that we could discuss the events leading to my demise," he continued with a smile gracing his lips.

Severus nodded his head. He wasn't foolish enough to think the Dark Lord would wait forever and felt a tiny bit of gratitude at Lupin for coming down to his dungeons as quickly as he had. He had thought the werewolf would have wanted his freedom for at least another week, and the fact that he had come to him within three days showed Severus that he not only had the backbone to see it through but also the presence of mind not to allow Severus to be punished for his procrastination.

"I am sorry I was not here sooner, but I had to brief Dora and Kingsley as to what to expect with the werewolves. I'm afraid to say they are not the most trusting of people in the best of circumstances. Although I think they will get on in the end, it will just take time for all to adapt and get used to each other, they are not very trusting of wizards, not that I blame them really, it's just that they haven't had much exposure to wizards and those that have, have very good reason to distrust them, but I think it will work out in the end and..."

"Lupin, will you cease the infernal chatter? I do not want to know about your so called 'friends'. You are giving me a headache." Severus glared angrily at Remus, who at least had the decency to look suitably chastised.

"Sorry, but I do tend to prattle on when I'm nervous." At Severus's angry look, Remus quickly shut his mouth.

"Now," Severus continued when he knew he would not be interrupted again, "I will be needing a small number of your hairs for the Polyjuice Potion."

"Oh, of course." Remus smiled, reaching up and plunking four light brown hairs from his head.

"Is that enough?" he asked, as he held out the four hairs including the roots. Severus pulled out a small pouch from one of the inner pockets of his robe and held it out.

"That should be sufficient." Severus closed the pouch once the hairs were within and placed it back into his pocket.

"As I'm certain that Albus has already spoken to you on this matter, I do not have to reiterate how important it is to the cause that you remain hidden within the castle. It is not only imperative to my role, but to several others, that you remain unseen once my task is carried out." Severus spoke in the way he would when speaking to one of his students. It carried an underlying warning that Lupin held his own security in the palm of his hand.

Remus nodded his head a couple of times, his face reflecting the gravity of the situation. Remus knew that his position was a serious one, though he was inclined to deal with the rising anxiety and pressure through jokes and laughter: his own coping mechanism.

"How are you going to convince him that it is me that you have killed if you are going to destroy the evidence, so to speak?" Remus asked, his face openly curious.

Severus looked up at the wizard. Sneering, he replied, "I am sure that Albus has a contingency plan for this unless you want to donate a body part to the cause?"

Remus laughed. Actually laughed at Severus's words. The deep, rich laughter rang in Severus's ears until he wanted to let go and join in. But he dared not. It would do nothing for his image as the surly Potions professor and spy. Instead, he bit his tongue.

"No," Remus countered, wiping the tears of laughter that had formed in his eyes. "I am quite partial to every one of my body parts. Though perhaps I could part with a few more hairs." He looked up at Severus then, a genuine smile lighting up his face.

"These will be sufficient," Severus replied. He was unnerved by the Marauder's easy-going nature. He had never really talked to the werewolf before, and with good reason, but he knew he would be spending more time in his presence during the coming months, as where Potter would go, no doubt the mutt would follow. Thinking on it for a second, he resolved to try to be a little more tolerant when he was in his presence.

He had made amends with Potter, so what was one more? Besides, both would prove useful if he lived through this war.

Remus stood up and cleared his throat. "Well, I'd better be off then," he stated as Severus sat lost in thought.

Remus walked over to the door, opened it and stepped out before pausing and turning his head to look over at Severus, who was still seated at his desk.

"Stay safe, Severus," Remus said, a tinge of sorrow in his voice.

Before Severus could formulate a response, or even look up at the werewolf, he had already slipped out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

***

Firstly, I would like to thank my fantastic beta, AmyLouise, without whom you would be reading a story that does not make much sense. Truly, she is a wonderful beta, and I couldn't ask for better. Thanks so very much, babe.

Second, I would also like to thank everyone who is reading and reviewing my story. Kudos to you for sticking with it. Although I cannot guarantee regular updates, I will not abandon this story. Once again, reviews and constructive criticism are very much appreciated.