In The Balance

"You!" Harry jumped to his feet and glared venomously at the traitor before him, extracting his wand with a speed and grace that surprised even him.

"Harry, no!" Remus shouted, whipping out his own wand in preparation to stop the angry teen. Snape merely stood there, stone faced and looking as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"He murdered Dumbledore!" Harry protested, his brilliant emerald eyes glittering with fury as he leveled his wand upon the Half-Blood Prince. His head was pounding with the ferocity of his rage, but a soft, barely audible voice in the back of his mind urged him not to strike.

"He did not murder Dumbledore, Harry," Minerva spoke softly, causing Hermione and several lower members of the Order to gasp softly. Raising her chin slightly, McGonagall slowly rose to her feet and walked around the side of the table. A sea of eyes followed her every movement, and Harry felt himself unconsciously lower his wand.

"Welcome back, Severus," she murmured just loud enough for the room's occupants to hear, before pulling him into a fast embrace. With a slightly disgusted scowl on his face, Snape awkwardly patted the older woman's back.

"Bloody Gryffindors," he muttered with a roll of his eyes as he stepped out of the woman's embrace and shook as if to rid himself of her 'cooties'.

"Yes, yes. Same to you Slytherins," she mocked good-naturedly, ignoring the incredulous stares she was receiving as she conjured a chair and ushered Snape into it, despite his very vocal protests.

"You're just as bad as Albus," Snape growled, falling gracefully into the chair with a petulant 'harrumph'.

"Wait a minute! If he didn't murder Dumbledore, who did?" Hermione, ever the voice of reason and curiosity, spoke up, momentarily forgetting her own dilemma.

"Nobody, my dear," Minerva answered matter-of-factly. "He died peacefully in the comfort and safety of his own bed."

"But... what... how?" Harry sputtered, falling back into his own seat and running a shaky hand through his disheveled, black hair.

"The body that you witnessed being 'murdered' was actually an extremely sophisticated and powerful golem being controlled with the last of Dumbledore's powers," Remus explained, having been part of the cover-up from the very beginning. "The spell Snape hit it with was designed to look like the Killing Curse, but was actually the deactivation spell. Albus passed away shortly after, from a mixture of old age and the effects of destroying one of the Dark Lord's Horcruxes."

"So I didn't go to that cave with the real Dumbledore then?" Harry asked, clearly confused and unwilling to accept the truth that maybe, just maybe, Snape was a good guy after all.

"Yes and no," Snape murmured silkily, delighting in the obvious discomfort he was causing some of the Order members, and Harry in particular. He was a Slytherin, after all.

"Care to elaborate?" Hermione snapped, noticeably fed up with the roundabout way their questions were being answered.

"The spell used to create and control the golem was ancient, and very complicated," he answered after shooting her an annoyed glare. "It required Dumbledore's conscious to be inside it as a means of control. Therefore, Mr. Potter was truly conversing with Dumbledore the entire time, though it was really a golem's body. And on the roof, he was not hearing Dumbledore plead for his life, but was actually hearing him ask me to deactivate the golem because he had no strength left to sustain it."

The room was silent once more as they let the information sink in. Some of them were having trouble accepting the fact that Severus Snape was, indeed, one of the good guys. Many believed he was still not to be trusted, while others felt their original faith in him redeemed. Harry and Hermione were both wary, but as they were powerless to stop him at this point in time, they both silently decided to accept whatever the Order had decided in regards to Snape and his role in the war to come. What they had learned of Dumbledore's death was shocking news, indeed, but it was in the past, and at the moment, each had heavier things on their mind.

"All right. I accept that what I saw may have been a cleverly crafted illusion," Harry began at last, bringing the attention of the room back to himself and Hermione, who had resumed holding his hand for support, "but I still refuse to completely trust Snape." He turned to the man in question with a haughty smirk, sarcasm and disdain dripping from his voice. "So please forgive me if I take everything you say with a grain of salt."

"I do not want people to be agreeable," Snape shrugged, Harry's obvious contempt for him not in the least bothersome, "as it saves me the trouble of liking them."

"Can we please get back to the original topic at hand?" Minerva spoke up at last, her voice stern and commanding. "You said that the Dark Lord was already making plans to kidnap Hermione, is that right?" she inquired seriously, turning her steely gaze to Snape.

"Indeed," he replied, straightening his shoulders in a dignified manner as he addressed the Head of the Order. "You were not alone when that troll, Trelawney, had her latest vision. Wormtail had been skulking around Hogsmeade in the attempt to sniff out some valuable information to regain the Dark Lord's favour when he saw her begin his trance."

McGonagall cursed under her breath, an action that surprised a few of the younger occupants of the room. They rarely saw her break enough under pressure to lose her composure.

"She probably would be dead now if you hadn't intervened before Wormtail could get a hold of her," he continued blithely, not really caring weather or not Trelawney lived. One less nuisance in his life, he mused silently. "In which case, I would have been able to pass the information on to the Order; giving you the upper hand by gaining knowledge of the prophecy without the Dark Lord knowing." With a wry smirk, he continued, speaking in one long breath, "However, since you apprehended her first, he knows that both sides are aware of the prophecy, but he doesn't know that you know that he knows. So I suppose you still have the upper hand."

Hermione's head reeled with that mouthful, and she unconsciously released Harry's hand to rub her temples in an attempt to sooth away the massive headache forming there.

"What has he planned?" Remus interjected, leaning forward and clasping his hands in a very Dumbledore way.

"He has not finalized any details of the abduction with his upper echelon, but since I have redeemed myself enough to enter his 'good graces', he felt it safe enough to contemplate the situation in my presence," Snape explained, his obsidian eyes momentarily flashing with some unidentifiable, yet powerful emotion. "I do know that he takes the month and day prophesized to mean this coming year, so he intends on capturing her within the next few weeks. However, I am not sure when exactly, where, or how he intends for the Death Eaters to carry out this mission." The room once again dropped into silence as they contemplated this new bit of information.

"So what does that mean for us?" Harry finally asked the question that was on many minds.

"That means, Mr. Potter," Snape murmured silkily, leaning forward to look Harry square in the eyes, "that you and Miss Granger have a decision to make."

"Come forward, Lucius," Voldemort hissed, his serpentine eyes glowing with malicious expectation. The striking, wicked blonde stepped forward with a somber look, wondering if he'd been brought forward on false pretenses and was actually about to be cursed into oblivion. After all, his body was still recovering from his time in Azkaban, which he'd only recently escaped from with the assistance of a low-level Death Eater who'd managed to steal his way into a position at the Ministry of Magic, and eventually become one of the new prison guards.

"Yes, My Lord?" he murmured silkily, dropping to one knee gracefully and delicately kissing the hem of the elegant black robes. As he stepped back, he couldn't help but note that the Dark Lord was, indeed, in an exceptionally good mood today. Perhaps he would walk away from this assembly without post-Cruciatus tremors wracking through his body, after all.

"I have summoned you here to discuss the Prophecy you have no doubt been informed of by now. Wormtail never did learn to keep his mouth shut," Voldemort explained coolly, twirling his wand between his fingers as he considered the man he formally deemed his most trusted follower. He still had yet to prove himself after that disaster that got him imprisoned.

Lucius wisely remained silent, which also served to confirm Voldemort's suspicions of Wormtail's loose tongue.

"I have chosen you and Severus to lead the attack on Diagon Alley, and I hold you with the sole responsibility of capturing Harry Potter's female companion. A Miss Hermione Granger, if I am correct." Leveling his gaze upon the elder Malfoy, Voldemort grinned maliciously. "I have stationed four novice Death Eaters at key points along Diagon Alley's main street for surveillance over the next few weeks. With the new term beginning at Hogwarts soon, I have no doubt that Potter and his little friends will be venturing there to purchase their supplies. When the recruits spot the girl, they are to report directly to you, at which point Severus and yourself are to carry out the attack."

While Lucius didn't enjoy the thought of waiting around for some inestimable time, he dared not question the plan. After completely botching his last assignment in the Department of Mysteries, he knew he'd have to watch his step. This could be the mission that would put him back on top in Voldemort's ranks, but if he was unsuccessful, he knew it would mean the end of his life. Voldemort would not tolerate another failure.

"As you wish, my Lord," he murmured in reply, bowing his head reverently. As he backed out of the room, he couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction. In less than a year, the war would be over, and he would be one of the most powerful men in the world. He would not fail this time.

The Granger girl wouldn't know what hit her.

Harry and Hermione excused themselves from the meeting, knowing they had a lot to talk about. With words of encouragement and support following them, they left the kitchen where the meetings normally took place, and quietly ascended the stairs to Hermione and Ginny's bedroom. Upon entering the dark room, they noted, with relief, that Ginny was nowhere around.

"She's probably playing chess with Ron," Hermione murmured distractedly as she flicked her wand to set the lamps ablaze.

"Yeah. Probably," Harry replied thoughtfully, thinking of the girl he had only weeks ago dumped rather unceremoniously. There had been no doubt in his mind that he had loved her. He had thought he was breaking off their relationship to protect her, but sometime around his seventeenth birthday he came to the realization that she would be in danger no matter what he did. She had already once become a target of the Dark Lord, and to top it all off she was the only daughter of one of the most important pureblood families on the light side, and therefore, one of the biggest thorns in Voldemort's side. With that realization came his admittance that he was no longer in love with Ginny Weasley, though she would always hold a special place in his heart.

"Harry?" Hermione snapped him out of his reverie, a look of concern marring her dainty features.

"Yeah, sorry, just thinking," he replied, shaking his head and returning his attention to the young woman standing uncertainly before him.

"About?" she prompted, taking a hesitant step forward.

"Ginny. You. Snape. Voldemort. Life. Death. Everything."

"Oh," she didn't know what else to say, so she turned quietly on her heel and walked over to her bed. With a soft sigh, she sank into the thin mattress and dropped her gaze to the old wood floor.

"It's all right. I tend to think about a lot of things lately." Sitting on the bed opposite Hermione's, Harry reached a hand out and gently tipped his friend's chin up. "Don't worry about me."

"I'll always worry about you, Harry, and you know it," Hermione chastised, fiercely brushing a tear away as it threatened to fall from her glistening hazel eyes.

"Hey," he murmured, moving to sit beside her on the other bed and wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder, "I promise you, everything's going to be all right." Hermione laughed wryly, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Harry."

"Well then, here's a promise I can keep." Shifting on the bed until he was facing her, Harry took both her hands in his and locked gazes. Hermione hiccoughed softly, inwardly cursing her inability to stay rational. "I promise you that I will never let Voldemort destroy your mind, body, or spirit. I will not allow him to force his spawn upon you, and become an unwilling accomplice to his destruction of the wizarding world that we have both come to know and love."

"But Harry, the clock is already ticking. I could be captured at any moment," she protested, though her heart had swelled at his declaration. She wanted to believe it all, she really did; but she was not so naïve as to think that a seventeen-year-old boy could ensure her safety from the most sadistic and powerful dark lords the world had ever known.

"Then Snape is right," he said, squaring his shoulders determinedly. "We have a decision to make." Reaching into his pant's pocket, he withdrew a small, crystal vile full of a silky, silver liquid. It was a highly potent and illegal Fertility Potion, according to Snape, who had handed it to Harry before the two teens had left. It was, he had said, powerful enough to ensure conception ninety-five percent of the time.

Hermione stared at the potion, a myriad of emotions crossing her face. There was so much she had wanted to do with her life before settling down and finding a family. And, like every other little girl, she'd always dreamt of marrying for love and then starting a family, not forgoing marriage entirely and bearing a child for the greater good of the world. If she did this, she would be sacrificing her education, her youth, and any career she wished to have. It was one of the hardest decisions she would ever have to make in her life.

After what seemed like an eternity, she looked up at Harry.

"I've made my decision."