Perfection

And if I had a star to wish on

For my life I can't imagine

Any flesh and blood could be his match

I can even take him in the bath

Coin-operated boy

He may not be real

Experienced with girls

But I know he feels like a boy should feel

Isn't that the point?

That is why I want a

Coin-operated boy

With a pretty coin-operated voice

Saying that he loves me that he's thinking of me

Straight and to the point

That is why I want

A coin-operated boy

--Coin-Operated Boy, The Dresden Dolls

Perfection

Chapter 19: Coin-Operated Boy

"Who moved this?" Hermione asked accusingly, exiting the storage room while brandishing a vial of Sleeping Draught. Four of the five others in the room glanced at one another surreptitiously as Harry continued humming tunelessly and staring at something in the corner.

"We did," Ginny finally replied, pointing a finger at herself and Neville. "We gave some to Harry last night. I was worried because he's hardly slept since... well, you know."

Hermione forced herself to inhale and retain a degree of composure. "How much did you give him?"

Ginny shrugged. "A spoonful, if that. And relax. I'm sure Snape will have expected his workroom to fall into dishabille. It is us after all."

Hermione snorted softly as she disappeared again. "Just be careful of what you give him and make sure you keep track. We don't want him to become dependent on the stuff."

"Taken up French, have you?" Draco sneered at Ginny.

She turned and began to advance on him, but Ron stepped between them, keeping them at arms length from each other. Ginny snarled at her brother, feeling the change begin to rise up unbidden, before deciding to back off. Not all of them needed to know her secret just yet.

*

"Stop hovering! It's not as though I'm going to keel over walking from the hospital wing to my workroom," Severus barked and Hermione jumped back.

"I'm sorry... It's just..."

"I know." He pulled her back to him and brushed her lips with his gently, then pulled away. "Are you sure that this cloaking spell works?"

"Of course I am!" she exclaimed, mildly affronted.

"Wonderful," he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers again and guiding her until she was pressed up against the wall.

"Glad to see you're back," she gasped as he began nuzzling her neck and hiking up her skirt.

"Just as pleased to know you missed me."

*

"Where are they?" Neville moaned, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm surprised you had to ask," Draco commented, smirking. "I'm sure she's got her mouth open--"

"Would you cut it out?" Ron snapped. "Making this damn potion is stressful enough, not mention that the wizarding world's only apparent hope is currently spending his days endlessly amused by the damn wall, without you giving me those mental images.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Weasley. I was going to say that she's probably got her mouth open in shock that Pomfrey healed him so fast. Though now that you mention it, I always thought there was something strange going on between the two of--"

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Hermione's voice greeted them, as the door swung open revealing nothing.

"Er, 'Mione, where are you?" Ron asked.

"Oh, sorry."

A moment later, the figures of her and Snape materialised and she kicked the door shut, sitting down between the quietly humming figure of Harry, whose back was to the table, and Ginny, who looked more than grateful that they had finally arrived.

"Sev--sir?" Hermione asked. "Were you going to sit down?"

His only reply was to turn even paler.

"Are you all right?" she panicked, leaping out of her seat.

"What is he doing here?" Severus asked, pointing a slightly trembling finger at Neville. "Here. My workroom."

"It's okay," Hermione tried to comfort him, leading him to the chair, which he sat in, looking rather stunned. "He was helping. We didn't have nearly enough people to watch the potion constantly."

"Helping?" he croaked weakly, making Neville shift in discomfort.

"Everything's working out fine," she said soothingly.

He took a couple of deep breaths, as if to keep from hyperventilating, before sitting up a little straighter, ignoring the more than amused glances being sent at him.

"Right then," Hermione announced briskly, moving back to her side of the table. "First batch of the Shield will be ready to send to the Order next week. I suggest that someone go with it to provide instructions." She looked pointedly at Severus. "Either you or me. Your call, but we can discuss that later."

He nodded, looking taken aback by her suddenly confident demeanour.

"Next thing is Harry," she continued, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Simply hiding him isn't enough anymore--people are starting to question that he's had a bout of the flu that's lasted this long. Madam Pomfrey usually heals people more quickly that this."

"What else can we do?" Ron argued. "Letting everyone else see him like this would be worse--you said it yourself."

Neville mumbled something, causing everyone to jerk towards him, more than surprised by his contribution.

"What?" Ginny asked, squinting as though it would help her to hear.

"Imperius," he repeated fearfully, looking as if he wished he could take it back.

Hermione chewed her lip. "Is that a good idea? What about Polyjuice?"

"No," Severus broke in. "Polyjuice would take too long to make. Potter needs to make an appearance as soon as possible. Imperius takes no preparation and it can be made to take hold for as long as you want without following the person around with your wand outstretched for the world to see."

"I can't believe we're even considering it," Ron muttered. "Imperius? Azkaban? Life-sentence? Is anyone else remembering this?"

"Do we really have a choice? If you have a better idea, feel free to spit it out," Draco shot back. "It's this or complete pandemonium."

Severus stood up quickly, nearly knocking his chair over backwards. "I'll be back shortly. I need to inform Dumbledore."

"He'll never agree," Ginny protested, standing up as well. "Why don't we just--"

For a moment, anger flashed in his eyes before he smiled coolly. "Trust me, Miss Weasley, he will agree. This is the only way."

He swept out, leaving them to look helplessly at Hermione, who only shrugged. "It makes sense. Who would drink the Polyjuice potion, anyway? None of us can really afford to miss more classes than we are already. Including Snape."

"Snape'll be the one who casts the spell, right?" Ron asked nervously. "He won't expect one of us to do it. Will he?"

She shook her head emphatically. "He won't. But I will."

Draco slammed a hand down on the table. "Who else votes that Granger's finally cracked?"

"Fuck off, Draco," Ginny snarled, baring her teeth. "If anyone's cracked, it's you."

He smirked, but backed off without a fight.

"You want one of us to cast Imperius?" Neville enquired uneasily. "I mean, it's an Unforgivable."

"Well, he can't," Hermione pointed out. "He's not nearly up to full strength yet and he can't waste what he's got..."

The rest of them glanced shiftily at one another, no one willing to speak up.

"I'll do it," Ginny said finally.

"You don't have to," Hermione protested. "I can--"

"No," the redhead argued. "You can't. You need to focus on the Shield. It was you that made it the first time, not Snape. You're the brains behind this. No one can afford to have you distracted."

"But the rest of you know how to make the potion now."

Ron shook his head. "Gin's right. We would have made a mess of it if you hadn't been hovering over us for every stage of it. We don't want to make a mess of it next time. It can't be you or Snape for sure."

"Why don't I?" Draco suggested, looking more afraid than he would have liked. "You lot couldn't care less if I end up in Azkaban."

"Too true," Ginny mumbled under her breath, making Hermione kick her.

Too all of their surprise, it was Ron who objected. "You're next best at potions, even if your father did buy your grades. Neville and me are pretty much hopeless--no offence--and Gin's just a sixth year."

The younger girl's eyes flashed. "Maybe I am a sixth year, but I'm stronger than you think, especially since... Well, the point is, I'm strong. I can handle it and I won't get caught. Who's going to suspect me of doing something illegal?"

Draco snorted delicately, even as Hermione was nodding. "You're right. Glad that we've finally decided something. Ginny's our best option."

"No," Neville pointed out. "Snape still has to convince Dumbledore."

*

"Severus, I understand what you are suggesting, but I can't allow--"

"You have to!" he spat out bitterly. "Believe me, if circumstances were different I certainly wouldn't be condoning Longbottom's thought process, but I can't see any other way."

"I fail to see what is wrong with the Polyjuice potion. To my understanding Miss Granger is quite adept at brewing it."

"And to mine as well, but we don't have the time. And don't pull out your time-turner, old man. That's only one of the problems with using the potion. Who would be the one to drink it? Sooner or later people would start noticing."

Albus Dumbledore sighed heavily and pushed his half-moon glasses up his nose, looking older than ever. "I do understand the necessity of Harry making an appearance. I've been putting this off in hopes that he would regain his sanity, but it is becoming clear that that particular day may be a very long way off. I'd hate to see our side stoop to the level of mind control to keep the general public relatively calm."

"I hate it just as much as you," Severus said stiffly, slumping back in his chair. "I just can't see a way around it."

Dumbledore shook his head, half with regret, half with admiration. "I envy you Slytherins. You are able to see what needs to be done and simply do it, unhampered by ethics, almost."

"Some more than others," came the wry reply.

*

"Christmas is two months away. I'm sure you'll be able to find a straight man to go with you by then," Lupin groaned as Agrippa dragged him into the store.

"Don't be ridiculous," she argued. "I'm slightly off of men right now--you being the exception. And I thought you were my bodyguard."

"No one mentioned office parties at the time," he muttered.

"We'll need to find you a suit," the woman continued, apparently oblivious.

"And I don't have any money..."

"Oh, and please refrain from drooling over the male models. That can be my job," she added with a grin.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Just because I shag them doesn't mean--" he paused, peering over his sunglasses at a man leaving the store.

"If you were going for the James Bond look, I think it worked," Agrippa remarked.

"What?"

"He's--oh, never mind."

He shook his head. "Muggle culture is far too in depth for me."

"I had noticed."

*

"The Imperius curse can be modified, depending on whether it is going to be used for an extended period of time or not. The spell you cast will be one of the former and therefore will require less conscious thought, but a great deal more power."

Ginny nodded, forcing herself to meet Snape's cool gaze as Hermione looked on idly. "You don't think I can do it," she said flatly.

"The likelihood is small," he agreed, "but since you are our only volunteer--"

"I said that I could," Hermione commented.

Snape whipped around, glaring fiercely. "And I said that I wouldn't allow it."

Her eyes widened furiously and she opened her mouth to retort something, but he cut her off.

"For the potion's sake, if not yours," he told her, more gently, before turning back to the redhead who was eying him with defiance.

"Aren't you going to at least try to teach me?" she challenged.

"That I am. We will begin with the incantation."

Within three hours, Ginny had mastered the spell, much to the surprise of both Hermione and her instructor. Snape gave her a curt nod as the twelfth spider obeyed her bidding perfectly and went scuttling across the desk, which was the closest he had come to a compliment in over five years of teaching her.

"Time to try on something bigger," he told her, wiping sweat off of his forehead, feeling the after-effects of his illness.

Hermione twirled her wand, apparently casual, and moved her lips silently. He shot her a sharp glance and she stopped temporarily, only to resume when his focus returned to Ginny.

"An animal?" the redhead asked.

He shook his head. "Harry."

Ginny bit her lip, feeling a rush of something that was both fear and anticipation. "Harry?" she repeated, just to be sure. "Wouldn't it be better to practice on--"

"The Imperius curse reacts remarkably similarly to non-humans as it does to people," Hermione told her, then grinned at Snape's glare. "Sorry. Didn't mean to steal your fire."

His mouth twitched slightly before he focussed once again on Ginny. "What are you waiting for, girl? Do it."

"I was," she snapped, raising her wand. "Imperio."

There was no visible sign that anything magical had taken place, but for a brief moment power reverberated through the room.

"You don't need to speak to give him orders," Snape murmured, clearly impressed.

"I know that."

Almost instantly, the boy stood up, smiling at Hermione and Ginny. "Hey," he said. "Where are we? And why's he here?"

"Don't ask," Ginny ordered, slightly terrified of the power rush that was streaming through her veins. It was almost as strong as the one after she changed. "And don't tell anyone."

"Should he be asking so many questions?" Hermione asked, her brow creasing with worry.

"I told him to act normal," Ginny assured her. "If he wasn't nosy, people would think that something was wrong."

Snape snorted, but quickly covered it with a scowl. "What are you waiting for? Go take your new pet for a walk."

The last comment resulted in a fit of giggles from Hermione that Ginny could still hear once she was in the corridor.

*

"Pet?" she gasped. "Why didn't you just say 'love slave' or 'boy toy'?"

"Some of us prefer to be discreet, my dear. And just as many do not connect sex with every comment made."

"But you're not one of them."

He bared his teeth in a vicious grin. "No. I don't believe I am."

She returned his smile as he closed in on her and tilted her head back. "For which I am very glad."

He grasped her wrists in both hands and brushed his lips against the side of her head.

"Don't think that you managed that little spell of yours undetected, my dear."

Hermione's mouth curved. "Don't pretend that you weren't exhausted."

"I was perfectly all right before your interference," he murmured, fingering her collar.

She snorted delicately. "I'm sure that you were." Peering up at him through her lashes innocently, she added, "You wouldn't happen to need another boost would you?"

Severus regarded her, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Insolent girl."

She raised herself so that she was pressed against him and had an arm hooked around his neck. His fingers stopped toying with the collar of her shirt and began slipping down.

"Have I ever mentioned how utterly repulsive that skirt is?"

"Why don't you get rid of it, then?"

"I think I will."

As drew her legs out of the skirt, she added, "Your clothes aren't much to look at either."

Moments later, Hermione's carefully organised notes were tumbling to the floor as she fell back against the wooden surface of the desk, her fingers buried in Severus's hair as he came down on top of her.

*

Draco did a double take when Ginny entered the Great Hall that evening with Potter in tow.

She pulled it off, he thought admiringly.

The spell he had only mastered after years of his father's instruction had taken her an afternoon to learn. He wasn't sure whether to be pleased or slightly worried.

After a moment's deliberation, he smugly approached her table, attracting unwelcome looks from all sides.

"Looks like you got your boy toy back," he sneered. "I guess it was just wishful thinking on our part that something was wrong."

"Get lost, Malfoy," the dark-haired boy snarled.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Very impressive."

The comment was directed at Harry, but Ginny caught the compliment behind it and was barely able to keep from flushing.

"You heard him," she said softly, her glare sliding back into place without missing a heartbeat. "When have you ever been welcome here?"

*

Ginny fell back on her bed, feeling ill. She waved her wand indolently at the door, locking it--even though she was using Hermione's room to hole up with Harry, she didn't want anyone barging in unexpected. Especially not when she was crying.

You hate him, she reminded herself. How can you doubt that, especially after what he did? He was born a Malfoy and whatever illusions you may have had at any point, that's all he is now.

She was itching to change, but even she realised that it would be foolish to do so in the dormitories. The wolf was snarling to get out and so was she, but she knew that she wouldn't make it as far as the common room without being bombarded.

Very impressive.

Draco's words echoed in her mind, accompanied by the image of his cocky, superior expression that filled her with a strange sort of desire to either rip something apart or fuck.

Glancing around Hermione's immaculately arranged room, she knew that survival was minimal if she so much as moved anything, so fucking it would have to be. She moaned in frustration, far from oblivious to the fact that her wolf self had the ability to make her irresistible to anyone who she singled out--apparently research did sometimes lead to new discoveries. But Gryffindor boys were a lost cause, with their notions of love and sex going hand in hand. Besides, she wanted Draco. Or someone experienced, at the very least, in his absence.

Briefly, she considered Snape--he seemed to know how to please Hermione--but disregarded it almost instantly. Theirs was a companionship that extended beyond the physical and she wouldn't be the one to take away the other girl's happiness--although the knowledge that they were probably enjoying some form of intimacy just then hardly helped her condition. The rest of Slytherin was full of males that she wouldn't trust if they were tied up, blindfolded, and locked away in Azkaban and Hufflepuff was worse than Gryffindor when it came to honour. The Ravenclaws were still slightly bitter towards her after the failure of her and Michael's relationship--among other things, they were champions when it came to holding grudges.

Out of the blue, a thought that was both sickening and exciting came to her. Glancing up at Harry, who was staring at her blankly, she closed her eyes. How could she even think it? What would it do to him?

He's practically brain dead, a nasty voice whispered in the back of her mind. Even if he ever regains sanity, he probably won't remember any of this. He doesn't know you.

"Harry," she said, voice shaking with the notion of what she was about to do. "Come here..."

The tendrils of horror let go of her as he pinned her down on the bed, moving exactly as she instructed. She found that if she closed her eyes, she could pretend that it wasn't Harry on top of her, but someone else whose face she could reconstruct in her mind's eye with flawless detail. Arching her back into the cotton sheets, she relished the experience, knowing that no one else would ever be able to touch her in just the same way.

But once her ecstasy faded, reality hit, forcing her to roll onto her side and vomit repeatedly into the wastebasket that was at the bedside.

"What have I done?" she asked Harry, only to find that he would not reply until she told him what to say.

Wiping away tears before they could fall, she left the room and ploughed her way out of the portrait hole, heading directly for the Forbidden Forest--it was the only place that she could let herself run free.

*

"Are you feeling all right?" Hermione asked, pulling the tangled sheets up so that they were covered.

"Well, now that we've migrated to a bed, things have improved drastically," Severus replied dryly, closing his eyes.

She shifted so that she was tucked next to him, realising just how much she had missed the sensation of skin on skin.

"Why did they do it?" she whispered in his ear.

He sighed heavily. "It's the price of betrayal."

"Redemption," she corrected softly. "Not betrayal."

"They'll try it again," he warned. "And it won't be just me who they go after."

"I know. But they'll only succeed if we let them."

He snaked his arms around her protectively. "And we won't."

*

Ginny finally returned at dawn, exhausted from the hunt. Harry hadn't moved from the position that she had left him in, hadn't even dressed himself, but the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach had gone and now all she was left with was a vague sense of guilt. Truth was, the night before had blurred together in her memory and even if she had wanted to remember, she doubted that anything would be clear. Absently, she ordered, "Put something on," before marching straight through to Hermione's bathroom and picking bits of flesh from her teeth.

The bathroom was nice, she noted. Not built for luxury, yet certainly much better than those reserved for the rest of the students. And that went without mentioning the other girl's neatly organized bath products.

Forgetting her teeth, she went over to the edge of the bathtub and sniffed bath oils, sharpening her sense of smell so that the full strength of the aroma hit her. Picking her favourite, she turned on the tap and began running water until the tub was full, then proceeded to scrub herself clean.

The taste of blood was still tantalizingly fresh in her mouth.

*

Helena Snape sat mutely, watching dawn break over Hogsmeade, unfinished letter on the writing desk before her. She felt on edge, afraid--an emotion that had remained unfamiliar to her since her late husband's demise, may he burn in hell. Fear was not something that she felt often or strongly, but today it was so deep that it ached in her bones, making clutching her quill next to impossible.

In this mind-numbing terror, however, one thing became violently clear. Time was running out and she needed the girl.

Otherwise, everything would have been for nothing.

*

"Hello Ginny."

The dark-haired boy approached her from the shadows of the chamber.

"Tom," she replied, strangely civil--especially for her.

"So strange that we meet again after all these years--here, of all places."

He gestured airily around the dank room--in the direction of Salazar Slytherin's statue, towards the decaying basilisk--and smiled icily.

"Indeed, it's been a while."

"Time moves so fast," he commented. "Not so very long ago I was nothing more than a memory and you--you, my dear, were nothing more than a little girl." He shook his head. "Now look at us. My former strength is restored and you have gained much more than even I believed possible--without me. A creature of the night, with the power to change at will--but I suppose we have a certain Remus Lupin to thank for that. If it hadn't been for the Wolfsbane..."

"Do you have a point?" she snapped. "Find it before you impale yourself on the tip. Not that it would be a loss or anything."

Riddle sighed. "Such an impatient girl. But I suppose part of that is the wolf. And yes, I do have a point, but I would like to go somewhere else to discuss it--somewhere with a slightly homier feel, if you'll pardon the expression."

He gestured again and the room dissolved into another, with a fire crackling in front of two cosy armchairs.

"This isn't real," she said flatly.

"No it isn't," he agreed. "But the only time I could possibly have a reasonable discussion was while you were asleep. You've become far too adept at shutting me out, not to mention our little romp in the forest when Lucius kidnapped you. That caused me a great deal of trouble, you know. Especially having to eradicate Severus from the ranks--irritating, moral-bound fool that he was, he had his uses."

"That's certainly a relief," she replied, sitting down. "Since I don't seem to be waking up, you may as well talk."

"With pleasure." A glass of wine appeared in his hand, and he handed it to her. "Not quite a substitute for blood, I confess, but it's made well enough."

She accepted it, settling back and preparing herself for a load of bullshit.

"You see," he began, conjuring up his own goblet, "I owe you a debt. You tried--and very nearly succeeded--to help me return to full power, unwitting though it may have been. And I always reward those who help me."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "That's what you were trying to do? I couldn't tell."

He gave an appreciative chuckle. "Some feel that my methods are somewhat--unorthodox--but I find that they tend to be effective, for the most part."

"In English, for those of us who don't follow Voldie-speak," she snapped, losing the fraction of patience that she had.

"I can give you things that you can hardly dream of--you needn't fear that I will not uphold my end of the bargain. I'm afraid that I'm required to."

"Seducing me with power won't work."

He studied her closely for a moment. "No, I can see that. There's hardly anything left to be done. You've already done half the job yourself."

She twitched violently. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I won't insult your intelligence by answering. But remember my offer. You will be able to find me when you change your mind."

She blinked, surprised to find herself in the now-cool water of Hermione's bath.

One hell of a dream, she thought, climbing out and wrapping a towel around herself tightly.

*

Hermione rolled over, gradually awakening from her first real sleep in weeks, and met the gaze of the dark-haired man who was studying her.

"Is it morning all ready?" she yawned. "And is my bed hair really so bad that it warrants all of this staring?"

A corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he shook his head.

"Then what is it?"

"Just missed looking, is all."

She blushed in spite of herself. "Wow. That was almost... wow. Nice. Who are you and what have you done with Severus Snape?"

He shifted uncomfortably, then sat up, leaning against the headboard. "Don't you have class?"

She laughed. "You really have lost track of time, haven't you? It's a Saturday. And even if there were classes, I've missed so many that a few more wouldn't matter."

His eyebrow nearly shot up to his hairline. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?"

She giggled helplessly and leaned against him. "I'm years ahead of the rest of them, anyway."

Their conversation was interrupted by the hooting of an owl, which flew through the slightly open window and dropped a letter in Hermione's lap before settling on Severus's shoulder to preen itself.

"It's from Helena," he informed her, stroking the bird absently.

"I haven't even opened it. How on earth would you know?"

He shrugged. "I just do."

She tore it open, proving his prediction correct, and skimmed the letter briefly.

"She would like to meet with me again. Wants to discuss future arrangements with me and explain things in greater detail."

Severus nodded. "I thought that she might."

"Should I send a reply now?"

"Well, her owl certainly isn't sitting here because it likes the view," he laughed.

Hermione scowled. "You never know. Some owls could be perverts."

*

"Well, it's done," Hermione announced to the faces that were staring expectantly at her. "Congratulations--it's your first successful brewing of the Golden Shield. All that's left for now is to bottle it and ship it off to the Order."

"And then what?" Draco drawled.

"We make more."

"I feel like I'm drowning in the stuff," Ron moaned. "I go to bed and instead of dreaming about Quidditch or girls or both of them together, I dream about potion ingredients."

"The door's right there, Weasley," Severus whispered, eyes glittering. "Get out while you can."

The red-haired boy blinked in surprise. "That wasn't what I meant."

"I know," he replied coolly. "I wasn't sure if you did." Severus stood up, standing beside Hermione. "The two of us will be taking the Shield to London tomorrow. I've all ready owled Mrs Weasley to let her know that we're coming. The rest of you will be responsible for preparing the ingredients for our next brewing."

"Were you planning on telling us this anytime soon?" Ginny snapped, fidgeting anxiously.

"We're telling you now," Hermione replied calmly.

Neville raised his hand cautiously.

"This isn't a classroom," she reminded him.

"Is it all right if I go?" he asked. "Professor Sprout wanted to show me something in the greenhouse and I just thought that..."

"Yeah, that's it."

Everyone stood up, Harry following Ginny like a lost puppy. Hermione followed them out, holding Ginny back in the corridor and leading her in the opposite direction.

"Is everything all right?" she inquired, looking concerned.

Ginny scowled, rolling her eyes. "Never been better. Why?"

"You sure as hell don't look okay. You're all pale and twitchy."

"She's perfectly fine," Harry broke in, studying Hermione endearingly.

"I wasn't asking--Merlin, Ginny, don't make him do that."

"Sorry. It's just so... Never mind."

Hermione shook her head. "Are you sure nothing's wrong? I mean, the whole wolf thing and now Harry--it isn't getting to you, is it?"

"Of course not," Ginny snarled, more defensive than necessary. "The only thing getting to me is stupid questions about people who seem to think they know what's good for me."

The other girl blinked. "I'm sorry. I just thought I'd check."

"I don't need anyone checking up on me. I haven't done anything wrong! Unlike some people here, I'm not screwing my teacher."

Hermione's hand lashed out before she could even consider stopping it, leaving a red welt across Ginny's face. The redhead laughed coldly and hit her back, sending her reeling.

"Don't talk about what you don't know," Hermione replied coolly, fingering her wand while keeping the urge to hex Ginny into oblivion in check.

"Screwing?" Ginny asked lazily. "Reckon I could give you a few pointers there."

Hermione met her gaze without flinching, then turned and walked away. "I guess this answers my question."

*

"Severus, she's out of control. It wasn't just yesterday--did you see her at breakfast? We have no idea what she's going to do next."

"Relax," he told her, putting the cap on the last vial of the potion. "It was just one outburst. She's adjusting."

"She's had months to adjust--"

"And what do you suggest we do about it?" he snapped. "We'll talk to Molly during our visit and express our concerns--don't think I haven't noticed anything either--but until she harms another person, there's nothing we can do."

"What if she hurts herself?" Hermione objected. "How will we know, let alone stop her?"

Severus sighed heavily. "I don't know. Callous as it sounds, however, we have larger issues to worry about and must trust that her instincts will cause her to seek help when--if--she needs it."

Nodding reluctantly, Hermione finished packing away the Golden Shield and headed towards the fireplace. "Do you think we have enough? Should we take some of what we have stored away, just in case?"

He shook his head. "What we have will suffice."

She shrugged. "If you say so." Taking a handful of Floo Powder, she tossed it in the fireplace. "Twelve Grimmauld Place."

*

"I don't see why everyone's suddenly so concerned with my well-being."

"I'm your brother, Gin. I'm always concerned!"

"So, months after the fact, you're suddenly interested in why Malfoy and I broke it off? Seems more like idle curiosity to me. And, for the record, I seem to be the one who's stayed pulled together."

Ron moaned. "Fine, I'll drop it." Opening the door to the potions lab, he added, "We need to get started on ingredients anyway, and I don't want to be stuck in a room for hours with a sister who's pissed at me. Where's Harry, by the way?"

"In the library, doing his homework like a good boy."

He snorted. "And that's inconspicuous how?"

Her reply was simply to freeze in mid-shrug. "There's someone here," she stated, repressing the urge to sniff--barely.

"Please tell me that's not some leftover wolf thing," Ron shuddered.

Disgusted, she replied, "The wards were down. Anyone with half a brain would have noticed."

"Where are they?" he asked tentatively.

"Give me a second."

They stood in silence for a moment, heads cocked in an attempt to listen. Ginny sharpened her hearing, shifting through the noise of Ron's panicked breathing until she found what she was looking for.

"In the storeroom," she muttered finally. "Come on."

They crept across the room, wands out, freezing simultaneously on either side of the doorway. She counted to three on her fingers and they burst through, screaming out the first hex that came to mind. A shield went up, absorbing the spells before they could do any damage, leaving three redheads facing each other, all looking more than slightly stunned.

"Percy?" Ron croaked. "What the hell are you doing?"

The older boy pocketed his wand, blinking rapidly and adjusting his glasses.

"I'm sorry--I didn't--I mean, Dumbledore told me that I would be able to find you here," he stuttered. "I need to talk to Mum and Dad. I think I've made a mistake."

After fighting shock momentarily, Ginny's face crumbled and she threw her arms around her brother, forcing tears into her eyes. "Percy! You have no idea how much we've missed you."

*

"It deflects the Killing Curse?" Arthur Weasley asked. "You're not joking?"

Hermione shrugged. "Would I lie about something like this?"

"Of course not," Molly cut in. "This is the miracle we've all been hoping for and thank Merlin that it's finally come."

"Drink it now," Severus ordered. "Everyone that's in the house. Distribute the rest to everyone else that you can. We'll make more, but for now keep it inside the Order."

"What about Agrippa?" Lupin asked, appearing at the entrance to the kitchen, where the four were conferring.

"My mum's here?" Hermione asked, shocked. It hadn't occurred to her that their house would still be considered unsafe. Of course, considering the fact that she had been attacked...

"Of course I am, darling."

The woman appeared behind Remus, resting a hand on his arm.

"Don't worry about me. It's more important that everyone else get some."

"No," Arthur broke in. "There's enough."

"Of course there is," Molly admonished. "Now, won't you two have something to eat? You must be starving."

Hermione and Severus shared an uncomfortable glance. "We really should get back," she commented.

He nodded decisively, but was cut off by Agrippa's sharp voice.

"Nonsense, Hermione. I haven't seen you since summer holidays and probably won't until Christmas again. What can possibly be so important on a Sunday afternoon?"

Another look at one another, and Hermione coughed delicately. "Good point, Mum. We should catch up while we have the chance."

"So you're staying for dinner, then?" Mrs Weasley clarified. "Wonderful."

*

"Sit down," Ron offered, then realised that standing was almost preferable to the hard stools.

"Thanks," Percy said, prying Ginny off of him and lowering himself.

"Care to tell us why you're here?" Ron rephrased his earlier question, more politely this time.

Percy rested his head in his hands. "I need to talk to Mum and Dad. I don't know if they want to talk to me, but..."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ginny broke in, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You have no idea what you're being gone has done to them."

He shook his head. "You have no idea what I've done..."

"Whatever it is, they'll forgive you," Ron assured him.

The other boy's face was a mask of desperate hope. "How can you be sure?"

"Dammit, Perce, they'd do almost anything to get you back!" Ron burst out. "If you need to talk to them so bloody badly, then just do it."

"Ron, you're not helping," Ginny chastised, patting Percy comfortingly on the shoulder. "He's going through a difficult time---"

Ron shot her a sharp glance, working out the underlying message in the words. "Of course," he apologized.

The two younger siblings listened for close to an hour as their brother became increasingly agitated, switching frequently between remorse and desperation. Finally, they convinced him to leave, sending final words of encouragement out the door of the potions lab. As it closed behind him, Ron sprinted to the storeroom, searching through the vials frantically.

"It's gone!" he called out frantically. "All of it."

"Of course it is, you idiot," Ginny snapped, joining him. "What did you expect?"

"We're with the Ministry now," Ron moaned closing his eyes. "Why did they send him?"

"He doesn't work for the Ministry anymore," the girl reminded him. "Remember the lay-offs last year? After news of Voldemort's return sent everyone running?"

"We've got to stop him!" Ron barked out, heading for the door.

Ginny's expression twisted into a cool smirk. "I wouldn't worry," she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a wand that definitely wasn't hers. "He won't get very far without this."

"You're a fucking genius."

"Against all genetic odds," she replied wryly. "I'm going after him."

"Not alone," Ron objected.

"Yes, alone. You won't be able to keep up. Send an owl to Hermione and Snape and tell them to get back here as fast as they can."

*

An awkward pause. "How has school been?"

"Fine."

Another, followed with, "And everything's all right with your friends?"

"Yes."

"What about you? Are you all right?"

"Of course."

"You'd let me know if something was wrong?"

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Yes."

The words volleyed quickly across the living room, as if hit by and invisible tennis racket, and both Hermione and Agrippa shifted uncomfortably. She studied her daughter, feeling a jolt of pain shoot through her chest as she did so. They were so far apart now that there didn't seem to be anyway to breach the gap.

"Dinner's almost ready," Hermione commented.

"Indeed."

"Maybe we should help set the table."

The two women stood uneasily and Agrippa followed her daughter into the kitchen, where they were swept up into the chatter of the rest of the Order arriving and food being passed out, military style.

*

An owl swooped overhead bearing a piece of parchment. The wolf was as aware of that as she was of the dirt beneath her feet as she bounded through the forest, nose pressed tight to the ground, intent on her prey. Powerful muscles propelled her forward over ancient tree roots that had been exposed by wind and rain as she dodged branches, single-minded in her pursuit.

She was drawing closer. The scent of his fear was becoming more overpowering with every step and she knew that it wouldn't be long until he was cornered. There--just ahead--the crackle of dried leaves combined with terrified panting. Ten larger leaps than usual and she bowled him over, the human part of her mind cautioning her to leave him as unharmed as possible, minus a few scratches.

Remaining crouched on top of him, the wolf shifted, allowing her features to fade into those of a sixteen-year-old girl.

"Brother Dearest," she greeted Percy cheerfully, sliding his left sleeve up so the contorted tattoo was visible. "I'm calling this an arrest of sorts. Make one wrong move and I'll rip your throat out."

"You don't get it, Ginny," he wheezed, trying to sit up but finding her much stronger than he remembered. "You won't understand until he comes for you."

"Trust me; I really think that I understand perfectly. You're even more of an idiot than we all thought you were. And I thought that allying yourself with Fudge was the worst you could do. Now hand over the potion."

"But..." He faltered when her teeth became undeniably canine, plunging his hand into his pocket and procuring a small crystal vial.

"Don't pretend to be stupid, Percy. You obviously needed some brains to become Head Boy. Give me the Shield." Her grip on his arms tightened significantly.

"Haven't got it," he grunted, wincing.

"Then who does?"

She felt her reign on her temper lessen and, almost unwillingly her nails rippled into claws, then back again as she snarled. Percy swallowed hard, turning ashen.

"Flint," he gasped. "I handed it off to him at the edge of the forest. I don't know where he's gone."

"Marcus?"

"No, his cousin. Pedro."

Ginny stood, grabbing him by the collar and hauling him to his feet, swearing. She then paused, studying him contemplatively before smiling in a frighteningly chilling way. "Well, at any rate, we're one Death Eater down, with Circe knows how many to go. Guess you'll get to see Mum and Dad sooner than you had dared hope for. Although this might be the one thing they're not ready to forgive."

*

The uproarious laughter was almost deafening, and more than once Severus found himself needing to step out of the room momentarily to relieve the headache that was forming. He had to admit that he was surprised that Hermione's mother fit so well into this group of full-blooded witches and wizards--although it was apparent that this was mainly Remus Lupin's doing.

Hermione, he noted during his brief periods in the dining room, was looking drawn as he felt and the fact that she was pushing bits of food around her plate was slightly worrisome, but he set it down to her surroundings. Besides himself, the only person with whom she seemed willing to converse was Lupin and she was doing a bit too much of that for his liking.

His thoughts of a fitting revenge were interrupted by a small ball of feathers colliding with his face that left behind an envelope as it continued whirring around the room. He tore it open and skimmed the hastily scrawled lines, feeling his breath catch.

Percy came, potion's gone. Ginny's gone after him. Get the hell back here now.

Ron

Brushing his fingers against her shoulder, he signalled to Hermione that it was time for them to leave.