30: Cleaning Up

Chapter 30: Cleaning Up

The sun was shining in the window when Hermione opened her eyes and tightened her arms around the man in bed with her. The first time they had made love it was fast and ferocious, breathtaking. Each time since then had been different. Last night it had been sweet, drugging, so right she couldn't describe it. He had filled her and emptied her, left her floating until she rolled into sleep. Now she awoke refreshed and much more capable of taking on the day.

She lifted her face to look at him and found him gazing at her, his eyes full of concern. She hadn't looked closely enough to notice the previous evening, for she had been too wrapped up in her own grief. He looked worn out, worried. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I wonder what else they will do in their haste to take you all down, to break Potter. Losing you, losing any or all of the Weasleys, would be more than he could take. You saw how he was after Black died. Breaking him so he can't fight is one of their greatest weapons. That makes your death or injury one of their greatest weapons. Even with the Dark Lord currently happy about the way I'm manipulating you, it could change in a heartbeat. His moods are mercurial: we never know from day to day what he will do or say. I worry about you constantly."

The last few words had been halting, as though they were hard to speak, and Hermione knew they must be. After all, he wasn't one given to much emotion, except that of hate and anger. Even then, his control had been amazing. When she looked back on all he had lived through, it was amazing to Hermione that he had managed to restrain himself from killing Sirius all those time he came by Grimmauld Place. A man with lesser control certainly would have given into his hate.

Not that she hadn't liked Sirius, in his own way. He certainly cared about Harry, and he could be a jolly companion, but he and James...and a host of others, should she be honest...had made Severus's life miserable. That kind of misery often created monsters. And despite all he had lived through, she couldn't call him a monster. She loved him so much. "That's why you're pretending to be manipulating me, isn't it? To make me too valuable a tool to dispose of?"

"So far your contribution has been minimal; as a school girl you don't have all the information other Order members get. That makes you somewhat vulnerable."

Hermione debated for a moment, then decided to make her own admission. "That situation should change soon. When Harry turns seventeen in a few days, he, Ron and I intend to seek Order membership. We want to be more involved in the fight. Right now nobody will take us seriously. The best way to get involved is to become members."

"You cannot join...you're too young. Still in school." His anger and worry rose inside her.

"We aren't planning on returning to school. Even if the school governors do decide to reopen, we're going to fight. It's far more important than our N.E.W.T. scores." The admission only caused her a twinge of regret now, after the past month of getting used to the idea.

"You have decided not to return to school? Miss I-Can't-Soak-Up-Knowledge-Fast-Enough-Granger, er, Snape?" He looked annoyed with himself for needing to make the correction, but didn't dwell on it. "How happy will you be if you don't get a decent job because you never took your N.E.W.T.s?"

"Tell me how happy I'll be if the Dark Lord wins and I'm dead, or turned into nothing more than chattel?"

He paused a moment, studying her, then trailed a finger down the side of her neck and along her collar bone, ending with a kiss on that sweet spot below her right ear. "As long as you were my chattel, I think we'd get by."

"Don't joke about this, Severus." Hermione was frustrated by his attitude. "I can take my tests later. You know Professor McGonagall will pull for me, as will all my other professors, to see that I get a chance to test later...not that N.E.W.T. scores are likely to do me any good in Australia. But if we don't win the war, my scores are hardly going to matter. Many of the Order members may protest, but we're going after the evil git either way, and we'll be safer with their help."

There was a long moment of silence. "You're one stubborn woman. My wife." His acceptance soothed her, his admiration cooled her irritation, and the feel of his fingers rubbing her shoulders brought her to settle more closely against him.

"How long until Potter goes to Order Headquarters?" Severus asked after a lengthy pause.

"Soon. Before the protection wears off at the Dursleys'. He doesn't intend to go back either. And you can let whomever cares know that he hates their guts, so getting rid of them would be more a favor than a heartbreak for him."

He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. "That's not really true, is it?"

She smiled despite herself. "No. He loathes them, it's true, but he would hate to see anyone killed. So no, he wouldn't consider it a favor."

"He'd hate to see anyone killed?" The words hung between them for a long moment.

"Well, maybe not just anyone. There might be one or two he wouldn't be too fussed about." The admission cost her.

"Like me."

When she finally answered him, her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper. "Like you. We have to let the Order know, have to make sure they don't attack you when it comes to the final battle. Everyone . . . they don't know . . . they don't understand. I can't bear to think of losing you too. Everyone I know and love will be at risk in this war. Everyone who is left. Though I would hate to lose one more person, just one, I don't know if I could go on without you." She rested her forehead against his chest and whispered, "I know I couldn't."

He spoke after a long moment. "I couldn't bear to live without you. There would be no point anymore. Damned potion. It's all the Weasley boys' fault." His voice lacked true anger, and he pulled her closer to him.

Hermione laughed for real this time. "And if we survive this war intact, even if we have to hide away in another continent to protect you, we'll probably want to thank them for bringing us together."

"Not that we'll do it. They can go on thinking you're ready to send hexes through the owl post at the slightest provocation."

"I wonder if their freckles will be back to normal by the final battle?"

"The way the Dark Lord is recruiting, we'll be lucky to have that much time. I'll be surprised if we see the Yule holidays before he makes his move. Potter must train. He must." There was a short pause, then Severus spoke again, his reluctance clear. "On another note, the Dark Lord has asked that I find out from you who the Secret-Keeper is for Headquarters. I really wish I could say you didn't know."

"You can. Nobody knows. They decided it was safer that way. I was shown only a note and didn't recognize the handwriting at all."

Severus looked her in the eye, and she could sense him probing to see if it was true. Then he nodded. "That's a relief. Not that it will make him happy to hear it, but at least the information won't come from me or you."

When Hermione said goodbye later than morning and Apparated back to the Burrow, she felt a twinge of guilt. It seemed Severus was telling her everything. She trusted him completely with herself; she believed he was helping her, giving her good information about the Death Eaters. Yet she trusted him with nearly none of her own secrets. Even the Horcruxes, which were not known in the Order, were not up for discussion with the man she loved, though he was already aware of her search. When did her trust win out over her worries and circumstances? Would she ever be able to share all of her life with him, or would what remained of their lives be spent under a veil of half truths and round-about questions?

*****

Hermione spent the morning with Tonks and Remus at her parents' home, establishing new wards and cleaning up the havoc the Death Eaters had left behind. Much of the damage was repairable, but some was not. The family photographs that someone had thrown in the fire were lost, as were the Dutch figurines her great-grandmother had owned, as several chunks were still missing when Hermione tried to spell it back to its original condition. Her best guess was that shards had ended up stuck to people's clothing and carried out of the house by Death Eaters and Aurors.

Still, the damage could have been far worse. With magic, and with help, it didn't take long to return the home nearly back to normal. When they were finished, Hermione stopped into her aunt's to see her parents and tell them all was well, then returned to the tent and began cleaning up there.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked when he saw her putting books into her school trunk.

"Are we or are we not returning to Headquarters in two days' time...less actually?"

"Well, yeah, but we can do all that packing tomorrow. No reason to worry about it yet."

Exasperated, Hermione turned and looked at Harry, who smiled, but kept his eyes on the book in his lap. "Not only do we need to get our things packed, we need to leave this tent cleaned up properly before your father returns it to Perkins. Also, I promised Petunia I would make sure the yard was in good repair when we left, which means a bit more work tonight under cover of darkness."

"Don't you think the nosy woman in Number Five wonders how it is we manage to keep the yard in perfect shape without ever seeming to do any work in it?" Harry flipped the page of his book.

"Or how we manage to move the tent at night, in the dark?" Ron stuffed another Chocolate Frog in his mouth, then looked over the notes he had taken on becoming an Animagus.

"Or how about the fact that the three of us practically live here, but it looks barely big enough to fit someone like Professor Flitwick comfortably for a single night?" Hermione packed away a few more books, then checked under the table next to Harry to see if she missed any books there.

"Good thing you put that Muggle distraction spell on the tent, Hermione. Otherwise more tongues would be waggling than ever...and my incurable criminal behavior has long been a favorite topic of conversation in the neighborhood. Can you imagine the rumors about the kinky activities we involve ourselves with here?" Harry grinned when Hermione looked up at him in surprise at his suggestion.

"Especially with all the colored lights flashing everywhere when we cast spells," Ron added.

"Spells, what spells?" Hermione asked innocently. "You and I cast a few here and there, Ron, but Harry's still underage. I swear I never saw his wand in his hand once the whole month. And we would hardly cast a spell near a bunch of Muggles like this. Honestly, you're full of wild stories today."

This time both boys looked up at her, and they all grinned at each other.

"That's our story and we're sticking to it," Harry said, then closed his textbook. "I'm done, let's get back to Transfiguration."

Ron set aside his notes and stood to join them. Hermione shook her head, but put away her own tasks for later. Transfiguration it was. She wondered if either of them would manage feathers or fur this time around.

*****

Ron was starting to get a strange pattern on his arm, and Harry seemed more, well, hairy than usual when an owl came through the tent opening an hour later. Both boys lost their focus and returned to normal when the owl screeched as it landed on Hermione's lap.

Viktor's owl grasped her jeans with its claws, but managed not to scratch her skin too much, then held out the note attached to its leg.

"What, again? He's been keeping you rather busy, hasn't he?" she said to the owl. "Well, take a rest, if you like, and I'll take a few minutes to send a letter back with you." It was the third letter she had received from Viktor since school got out. Hermione lifted the owl on her arm and carried it over to the table. She fed it some bread and water, then turned back to the boys, who were watching her.

"It's not Viktor, is it? I mean, you know, him. He wasn't around or anything," Ron said.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Of course it's not Viktor. We're just friends. Now get back to work; I can see you're both making progress. I think you might have scales like a snake or lizard, Ron."

"Really? That'd be brilliant." He seemed to perk up at that and immediately closed his eyes to try and focus again.

When Harry joined him, Hermione unrolled the scroll of her letter and began to read.

Dear Hermione, I read about the attack on your parents, though the paper didn't give many details. I hope all is well with them and most especially with you. I hope to meet them when I am down next month to visit.

He continued on with more specifics about his plans, then closed the letter. It was shorter than usual, but it had only been a couple weeks since he wrote last, and she would see him in a little more than a fortnight.

Hermione pulled out a quill and parchment and sent a brief reply, apologizing for the length and saying that she looked forward to the visit, and that Harry and Ron looked forward to talking Quidditch with him. After some brief consideration, she decided she ought to prepare him for the fact that she was involved with someone else, leaving only a general mention that she was seeing someone, rather than the fuller explanation of a soul mate that Harry and Ron had. It was impossible to know if the letter would be intercepted, after all.

After she tied the letter to the owl's leg, she looked back over at Ron and Harry and grinned. Ron was definitely developing scales, though he hadn't gotten any further in changing shape or size yet. Harry's increase in furriness was not her imagination, as most of his body was now covered with the stuff, though it was the same color as his regular mop. Still, things were coming along nicely.

*****

Cleaning out the tent and getting everything settled at the Dursleys' was every bit the headache Hermione had expected. Petunia sneered at the teens, Vernon told Harry never to return and Dudley tried to cop a feel. Of course he got zapped...sometimes Severus' spell came in handy. When Ron questioned Hermione's zapping of the youngest Dursley, she only gave him a mysterious smile and continued walking.

Returning to the House of Black was rather depressing, though with the advent of Dobby into their household, the place was sparkling up nicely. The house could still use new carpets and a good coat of paint, new, lighter drapes, fresh furnishings, and the list went on, but clean was a nice change by itself. Hermione figured Harry might get around to brightening the place up sometime in the next ten years...if he didn't burn the place instead when the whole war was over. Fire might be the only way to permanently shut Mrs. Black up, after all.

The three of them had settled into the house in their regular rooms when Fred and George arrived that evening after closing their shop.

"Hey, what's brought you here?" Hermione said when she answered the door.

"Figured we were due to give an update. Anyone else here?" Fred asked.

"Just the three of us. Remus should be in later, but not for hours. Ron and Harry are in the kitchen; we were just getting around to pudding."

George patted his stomach. "Well, if you insist that we join you, I suppose I wouldn't want to offend."

"I'm sure." Hermione smiled and led them through to the kitchen. It took several minutes for greetings and servings of trifle to be passed around the table. Fred arranged a work schedule with Ron, and George showed off some of their newest products while Hermione dished out the extra servings.

When the food was nearly gone, Fred finally got down to business. "So we've been checking around, popped into Borgin and Burkes...you were right mate, the place is downright creepy..." this last he said to Harry, "but if he's got anything interesting, he didn't tell us."

"Checked into an antique store that's a bit more choosy with their clientele, but he didn't have anything either. We found some other interesting things, though." George began cataloguing some of the bizarre items they had bought to furnish the apartment over their store. Some were far from bizarre, but some couldn't fit any other descriptor.

When the twins left, the evening had definitely been more interesting than expected, but Hermione found herself even more frustrated than before their arrival. Some of her best guesses as to location and specifics for the last couple Horcruxes had come up empty.

As she settled into bed that night, pulling her diary out to write a message to Severus, she contented herself with the idea that the twins' search could still come up with something. She just didn't know what.

_________

AN: Thanks to RobisonRocket for taking the time to validate me, to countrymouse for her beta work, and a big thanks to all my readers. I got tons of reviews on the last chapter, with plenty of blush-inducing praise. Also, the list of people who have this story as one of their favorites more than tripled! You all made my day.