Dumbledore's Secret

Chapter 15

It was a little after three in the morning when Severus made his way upstairs. As he'd had no desire walk even the short distance between his lab and the stairwell if it meant running into a jubilant Harry Potter, he stayed holed up in the one-time pantry until the party ended around 2:30. When he had been sure that the kitchen was empty, he'd sat in the darkened room for another quarter of an hour, drinking a cup of coffee. He hoped it would be enough to keep him awake for the rest of the night; he didn't have the strength to face his demons tonight.

After consuming as much coffee as he could stand, he wandered upstairs, bored and restless. When he reached the second floor corridor, he saw her, bare arms wrapped around bare knees, which she'd pulled closely to her chest. She was leaning against her bedroom door, her head titled toward the ceiling. It was too dark to see if she was awake, so he whispered, "Lumos!"

She looked at him with slightly unfocused eyes. "What time is it?"

"Three, or a little past," he said, coming to stand in front of her. "What's wrong?"

"Lupa snores."

He looked down at her and said, "You look much younger in your sleepwear." Some part of his brain knew it was an odd thing to say, but the rest of him, exhausted and buzzed with caffeine, felt it was a perfectly acceptable comment to make to a woman curled up on the floor of a hallway at three in the morning.

She seemed to be in a similar state because she said, as if his observation had been entirely normal, "It's probably the hair. It's not brushed."

He sat down next to her, making sure not to touch her bare arms. Resting his head against the door, he murmured, "No, I think it's the clothing." The oversized t-shirt and shorts made her look smaller, somehow more vulnerable. He looked away, trying not to stare at her legs.

She glanced down at herself. "Well, I guess the Garfield t-shirt is a little juvenile."

"I don't even want to know who Garfield is."

"Don't you sleep? Is that why you're always such a mean s.o.b.?"

He smiled, though she couldn't see it. "Don't you sleep? Is that your excuse for your poor spellcasting performance?"

"I sleep. Just not tonight. Like I said, Lupa snores."

"You sleep with your house elf."

"Well, it's not like I know the protocol! Where else was she going to sleep?" Then in a near whine she said, "I can't believe I'm a slave owner..."

"Oh, get over it."

"No!" she said, her voice rising. "I will not get over it, I am tired of this whole damn place!"

"I'm sure the entire house appreciated your little temper tantrum," he hissed.

She was silent for a moment, as if listening for those she'd woken, but no one in the house stirred. Then she said, "You're right. I'm being childish. I usually act younger than my age. But for tonight, let's blame it on something other than an inescapable character flaw."

"The lack of fresh food."

"The bathrooms."

He grinned at that. "Umm, yes, they're in a sad state. But maybe the house elf heads on the wall..."

"Those are disgusting! No, I think it's the lack of fresh air. I can't believe I haven't been outside for over a month!" She sighed. "If I were at home, I'd be hiking right now ..."

"Really, at 3 a.m.?"

She elbowed him playfully, and he tensed at her touch. She seemed to sense it, for she quickly moved away and said, "No, not at 3 a.m., but perhaps in the early mornings. The sunrises! Oh, and autumn, I'll miss the fall, with all those colors ..."

Suddenly, he stood up. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand.

"What?" she asked, bewildered, but she didn't hesitate to put her hand in his. He felt his stomach clench at her touch, but he ignored the sensation as he pulled her to a standing position. Quickly releasing her hand, he led her to the top floor of the house.

A few days before, when he'd been wandering around late at night, he'd found a skylight. He'd pushed it open, wondering if it could be a vulnerability in the house's defenses. But he'd quickly dismissed his concern, as the anti-apparition wards, along with the fidelius charm, would have kept anyone on the outside from being able to access the window. He hadn't actually gone out on the roof, but he had, for the first time in weeks, breathed fresh air (if city air could be classified as such).

She stared up at the skylight and said, "Can we actually get outside?"

"We can try." They were in a storage room of some kind, and he found an old table that he dragged beneath the glass. Stepping gingerly on it, he unlatched the skylight and pushed it open. Putting his arms on either side of the opening, he pulled himself up and slid onto the roof. It was not a pretty view: the roofs of muggle houses spread out before him, and the sky had an almost purple glow from all the street lamps and city lights. The moon looked sickly, and only a few stars - planets, actually - managed to shine their way through the light pollution of muggle London.

"Come on," he said, reaching down for her. He helped her crawl through the opening, and she gasped as if she just seen her beloved Appalachian Mountains.

He gave her a skeptical look. "It's a horrid view, so there's no need to pretend..."

She grinned. "It's a view, period!" She took a deep breath and sighed contentedly.

"You'll probably die from all the pollution you just breathed in."

"Killjoy," she muttered. She lay back against the gently sloped roof and stared up at the sky. He sat down beside her, studying her with a sideways glance. Her hair spread out in gentle waves behind her head, and her pale limbs appeared even whiter than usual in the glow of the city night. In another world, if I were another man, he thought before shaking his head fiercely.

"We should go. It's late," he said stiffly.

She only laughed softly. "Dr. Jekyll has returned. Or, is it Mr. Hyde? I always get them confused."

He was silent, and she said, "It's muggle literature ..."

"Yes, I know," he snapped. "Look, I don't think you understood what I told you before. Before I became a spy, I was a ..."

"Shh," she whispered.

"You don't get it, do you? You and your grandfather, fools, both of you."

She sighed. "People can change, Severus."

"People do not change! That's what neither of you understand."

"Yes, they do. It just takes a while."

He scoffed. "They do not ..."

"Look, can we talk about something else?" she asked quietly. "I'm so tired of death eaters and Voldemort and wars and ... I know it's selfish of me, and I'm not even in the middle of it all, not like you or granddad or Harry ..."

He turned away at the sound of the boy's name. "As I said, it's late, and we should ..."

"Oh, shut up. You don't want to sleep. Neither do I. Otherwise, we wouldn't be up right now. Come on, now, I know you can converse like a normal human being ... sometimes, during lessons, you almost come close to it ..."

He sighed. "Fine. What do you want to discuss?"

She thought for a moment. "Tell me about Hogwarts, what to expect."

He felt a smile tug at his lips. "Nervous, are you?"

"God, yes."

He thought for a moment, then said, "Hogwarts can be both heaven and hell, though usually it exists somewhere in the tedious middle."

"Hmm, well, thanks for narrowing it down for me."

He clucked his tongue. "And I thought it was a rather poetic description."

She laughed. "Yes, you should put that in the admissions packets. I'm sure all the students will rush to sign up."

"There's no need to recruit anyone. Hogwarts is the most prestigious school in the wizarding world, and I say that without exaggeration."

"Well, I have to work harder, then," she muttered. "I'm never going to be ready ..."

To his own surprise, he reached down and squeezed her shoulder. "Have a little more confidence in yourself, Charlotte. You'll do fine."

She looked up at him, her lips parted in astonishment. He looked away quickly, and she said, "Are the students really as bad as you say? I mean, will they cause so much trouble? The Weasleys seem like good kids, if a little mischievous, and Hermione and Harry ..."

He scoffed. "Potter and Weasley will sleep through your class while Miss Granger takes notes for them. She'll be an ally, though, if you need someone to answer a question. She'll always speak up."

Charlotte groaned. "Not in my class. She looked like she was going to kill me when I wouldn't free Lupa ..."

"For the gods' sake, don't worry about that. Besides, she's respectful to all her teachers, even me, though she hates me to the core."

"Surely that's putting it a bit harshly ..."

He looked at her and said, "You'll see soon enough. I have a certain ... reputation, and I like to keep it that way."

Charlotte laughed. "Oh, I don't need to wait and see. I've experienced it. You're quite the taskmaster." She paused, then asked nervously, "Anyone I should watch out for in my classes?"

He frowned. "Draco Malfoy."

"And what exactly do I have to fear from him?"

"His father, Lucius, is Voldemort's right hand man."

Charlotte sat up. "Is Draco following in his father's footsteps?"

"It appears so."

She sighed. "Well, perhaps we can stop him. Perhaps we can show him..."

He laughed bitterly. "Oh, god, you are naïve." But he felt a sudden surge of warmth fill him. She would not blame the son for the father's sins. Then he said, "If you want to help anyone, you'll watch out for Draco's friends, partiularly Gregory Goyle." He added quietly, "His father was there that night ..."

She closed her eyes. "But you think Gregory wants to choose another path..."

"I don't think he's very happy. Which of course makes him all the more vulnerable. Voldemort preys on the miserable, he ..." Severus stopped, and they were silent for a long while.

Finally, she said, "You know, I don't think about her as often as I should."

He didn't need to ask whom she meant. "There's no particular set of requirements for grief."

"Perhaps not. But ... she was my mother. She is my mother. I thought about her for the first time tonight, for the first time in weeks. She was a good mother, and how do I repay her? I get her killed and then I forget her."

Feeling desperate at the sound of misery in her voice, he said harshly, "You're not still on about that, are you?"

She glared at him. "Of course I am! And you, who are you to talk? I don't know what happened to you, but I know you still blame yourself ..."

"You're right, you don't know what happened, so just keep quiet about it." Then, "Look, you mustn't be too hard on yourself. Besides, you were there, in the end."

"I didn't even get to tell her ... He silenced me the moment I was brought into the room, I couldn't even look at her, he wouldn't let me move, I wanted to reach out, tell her I was sorry for all those years we lost, but ..."

"But you came. She had to have know you loved her because you showed up, you came for her." He closed his eyes. Could he only have said the same about himself ...

She was looking at him, he could feel it. He bit out, "Stop it. You do that too much."

"What, look at you?"

"You know what. What you call 'reading' me. Your legilimens." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You break into my mind, though it won't work when I have my eyes closed."

She drew back. "I don't ..."

"You do."

"Well, I don't mean to."

"Yes you do. Another way that you and your grandfather are alike. Never met a nosier pair than the two of you."

"This legilimency, can I learn more ... the books you gave me don't say much ..."

He laughed suddenly. "You are a conniving little ... You've been reading about it. You've been practicing."

She shook her head. "No, I told you, I don't know much about it. After you mentioned it earlier in the summer, I looked it up, but all I got was a basic definition ..."

"And the spell."

She shrugged. "But I haven't been using it. You'd have heard me ..."

"You don't need to use it. You're beyond that."

"Oooh, is this a compliment from Professor Snape?" She looked up at the sky. "Where are the flying pigs?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's hardly a compliment to tell you the truth."

"Do you really think I'm like my grandfather?" she asked suddenly.

"You and Albus certainly provide support for the nature over nurture theory of things."

"He is a great man."

"He trusts too easily. He gives people second, third, fourth chances..."

"As I said, he is a great man."

"You sound like Hagrid," Severus said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"The giant at the Order meeting?"

"Half giant. Your grandfather has stuck up for him when few would."

"He does that often, doesn't he?"

"Just wait until you return to Hogwarts. Currently, we've got a werewolf, a fraud, a centaur, a half giant, and a ..." He paused. He'd almost forgotten. "... a death eater, all on staff."

She crossed her arms. He prepared himself for another round of the people-can-change bit, but instead she said, "You've left me out."

He smiled. It was becoming too easy to do that, but he decided to blame his near giddiness on the late hour. "And just what are you?"

"Assuming when you said 'fraud,' you weren't referring to me, I'm the muggle-raised, practically non-magical granddaughter of the headmaster who only got the job to save her hide from Voldemort."

He sighed. "As I said, Miss Richardson, you need more confidence."

"What happened to Charlotte?" she asked, fighting off a yawn. "I rather liked that."

So did he, and that was a problem. "You're tired. Come on, time to go."

"No," she said petulantly. "Besides, what does it matter? I'll just get up a little later ..."

"Oh no you won't. You think you're getting out of lessons tomorrow morning?"

She glanced at him in surprise. "But I thought, with all the people, with Harry's birthday, with Granddad here ..."

"We're certainly not taking off for Saint Potter's birthday. If the rest of this place wants to consider it a holiday, fine. But I will not. And neither will you."

"But I haven't finished my work for tomorrow. When you and Remus and Tonks ran off this afternoon, I was too nervous to concentrate."

"None of your excuses. We continue tomorrow morning, 8 o'clock."

He studied her. She did look tired; he should let her sleep. And if she had protested again, he supposed he would have given in. But instead, she smiled and said, "Good."

Good, he thought, staring at her. Then, forcing himself to look away, he said, "Get to sleep."

She nodded and followed him off the roof and back to the second floor. He walked past her door, making sure not to look back at her.

"Well, see you in a few hours," she whispered to his retreating figure.

He almost turned around. He almost walked up to her, put his hands in her hair, and kissed her. Almost. Instead, he nodded curtly, his back still to her, and headed back downstairs to the kitchen. Four o'clock. He needed more coffee.

*

When Molly walked into the kitchen at 5:30, she couldn't say she was all that surprised to see Severus at the table, sipping coffee and reading; he seemed like a man who didn't sleep, or not much, at any rate. Standing in the doorway, still unseen, she was tempted to turn around and go back to bed. But Arthur was leaving for work soon, and she wanted to make sure he got a good breakfast.

She had never been comfortable around Severus, though she tried to put on a polite face. He was part of the Order, after all. But she couldn't forget what was tattooed on his left arm, no matter how much good he'd done for the Order. She had seen too many dark marks floating menacingly above friends' and family members' houses during the first war to forget what that skull on his arm meant.

Still, she said cheerily, "Good morning, Severus!" as she swept into the room, heading directly for the stove. "Oh, good, coffee. I always need something stronger than tea in the morning. Can I refill you?" she asked, looking over at him.

"No," he said tersely, then added, almost as an afterthought, "thank you."

"Well then, how about some breakfast? I'm making Arthur some fried tomatoes and sausage ..." As much as she disliked the man, she couldn't let him go hungry, not while she was around. Certainly, by the look of his gaunt face, he could use a good meal.

"No," and again, a few seconds off, "thank you."

Their one avenue for conversation having come to a dead end, Molly said no more to him as she set about making food. The silence was certainly fine with her; she had enough on her mind as it was. Arthur, running for Minister! She banged the frying pan on the stove, and Severus looked up, startled. "Sorry," she muttered, plopping the sausages in the pan. She'd never see Arthur now, not unless he lost the election, which, according to him was quite likely. It seemed a no-win situation: either he won, and he'd be stuck in the ministry the rest of his days, or he lost, and he'd be put through the ringer during the election, then belittled and mocked for years to come. She knew what people thought of her husband. If it came to that, she knew what people thought of her: plump, domestic, simple Molly Weasley, with her brood of children and wacky muggle-loving husband. The characterization had never bothered her until now, perhaps because it was likely to be on the front ! page of the Daily Prophet for the next six months. When she thought of that horrid paper and the things they'd said about Harry, about Albus ... well, she didn't look forward to her own name appearing in that rag.

After she'd charmed the kitchen knife to begin slicing the tomatoes, she took a sip of her coffee and sighed. If she were truly honest with herself, Arthur's running for minister wasn't what really bothered her. She could imagine that, several years in the future, it might even be something that the two of them looked back on with humor: "Mol, do you remember that time I was supposed to give a speech in Scunthorpe but ended up in Scagglethrope instead?" or "Arthur, I'll never forget that picture of us in the Prophet ... you look like you're sleepwalking and my hair is a frizzled mess! That'll be one to show our grandkids."

No, the election, put into perspective, wasn't really such a trial, though it would feel like it for the next few months. It was Percy that bothered her. Well, not Percy, but Arthur's assumptions about Percy. "He's missing, Molly, he's not at the Ministry," he'd told her last night as they'd climbed into bed.

"Well, perhaps he's just had to take some time to figure out what's important to him!" she'd replied, feeling a mixture of worry and hope. Yes, that had to be it; he was going to come home soon, he had to. "Now that you're running for Minister, why, I bet he'll be at our side in weeks!"

Arthur had sighed. "Molly, I wouldn't get your hopes up. Penelope said ..."

Molly shook her head as she turned the sausages over in the pan. What did Penelope Clearwater know about her son, anyhow? What did any of them know? She'd been the one to carry him for nine months, the one to watch him grow up. He'd been such a sensitive child, one who could say the sweetest things when no one else was around. Oh, she knew he got to be a little stuffy in a crowd, but he simply wasn't meant to be around a lot of people. And the way the twins had teased him ... she should have been harder on them, she should have stuck up for Percy more.

Penelope obviously didn't know the boy, and all Molly could think was, good riddance if they'd broken it off. But for Arthur to think that Percy was getting himself into trouble! Percy's own father! Molly shook her head again. "He's absolutely wrong," she said angrily, then looked up in embarrassment, realizing she'd spoken aloud. But Severus said nothing about her outburst; he didn't even look up from his book.

"Oh, Molly, you didn't need to ..." Arthur came into the kitchen, dressed in his finest business robes, which, truth be told, were not that fine at all. He looked tired, and his voice was stiff. They hadn't said a thing since their row about Percy the night before.

"Well, you can't go off to work hungry," she muttered, turning back to her sausages.

Severus stood up.

"No, please Severus, don't go," Arthur said politely. "I'm just going to have a quick bite before I head to work. No need to get up."

She felt Severus's eyes move from her to her husband, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew things were not well between them.

"Besides," Arthur continued, putting down his briefcase and moving to the stove for some tea, "I haven't gotten a chance to thank you."

"Thank me?" The potions master's voice was incredulous.

"Yes, Ron did quite well on his O.W.L.s. He was quite surprised when he received an O in potions. I imagine that we have you, in part, to thank for his good marks."

"Believe me," Severus said frigidly, resuming his seat, "he was no more surprised than I."

Molly scowled at the professor. But then she caught Arthur's eye and saw that he was grinning. "Charming mood, as always," he muttered to her when pouring his tea at the counter.

She laughed softly, and they looked at each other again. The unspoken apology passed quickly between them, and he said, cheerfully, "Smells good, Mol. But you must be exhausted ..."

She put the food onto a plate, handed it to him and said, "No more than you, I suppose."

As the two of them sat down together, a voice at the doorway called, "You wouldn't happen to have a little more of that delicious smelling breakfast, would you, Molly?"

She looked up in surprise. "Albus! Minerva! Why, you're here rather early!"

Minerva, who swept past her husband and headed immediately for the coffee pot, muttered, "You're telling me."

"You know that old people can't sleep," Albus said with a smile, sitting at the table beside Severus.

"Some old people," Minerva muttered.

She headed to the table with a steaming mug, and Albus said, grinning, "Ah, for me?"

Minerva scoffed. "You can get your own."

"Here, Albus," Molly said, starting to get up. "I'll get ..."

"No, you will not. Sit down, Molly," Minerva bit out sternly, and now even Severus had a trace of a smile on his lips.

"She's absolutely right," Albus said with a gentle smile to his wife. "I'll get my own, thank you Molly." Albus waved a finger at one of the cabinets, then nodded at the tea kettle. A mug came flying out of the cupboard, and the kettle levitated off the stove, tilting just above the mug. Once the water had been poured and the tea nicely stirred, the mug floated to him, landing on the table with a gentle thud.

"Show off," Minerva muttered.

Albus chuckled, then turned to Arthur and said, "Well, the good news is, they spelled your name right."

He pulled a newspaper out of his robe and tossed it onto the table. Molly read the headline and sighed: "Arthur Weasley, Unknown Ministry Bureaucrat, Faces Off Against Interim Minister Odgen." There were two pictures below the headline: Odgen, his perfectly manicured hands making emphatic movements as he gave a speech, and Arthur, looking completely dazed and befuddled as reporters crowded around him.

"You're running for minister of magic?" Severus asked incredulously. Molly's head snapped up, and she was ready to tell him off for any sign of scorn on that pallid face of his. But she saw only genuine surprise there.

"Yes," Arthur said, "I'd forgotten. You've been holed up here, without any news, haven't you?"

Severus looked uncomfortable. "For the most part," he muttered, glancing briefly at Albus.

Albus said quietly, "Two days ago, the death eaters being held in Azkaban escaped." Severus closed his eyes, and Molly almost felt sorry for the man. "Fudge was ousted yesterday, and Tiberius has taken over the ministry. Luckily," Albus continued in a more cheerful tone, "Arthur has decided to challenge him."

"I don't know how lucky it is," Arthur muttered, glancing at Molly awkwardly.

She decided that now was no time to show their internal differences. "Of course it is," she said bracingly. "And you'll run a fine campaign, too." Then, suddenly, she glanced down at the paper and muttered, "Though, I'm not sure I'll be a very good candidate's wife." In the bottom right hand corner of the paper, there was a picture of Mrs. Odgen, looking as perfectly groomed as her husband as she shook hands with a sickly man in a hospital bed. "Mrs. Odgen Brings Charm, Culture to the Sick at St. Mungo's," the headline above her picture read.

"That's not true," Arthur said, reaching out for her hand.

They all lapsed into silence for a moment, then Molly said, "Oh, Albus, you wanted some breakfast!"

Albus shook his head. "I was only jesting ..."

"Please," she said, "it will do me good. Minerva, can I get you ..."

"A bit of toast would be nice, actually."

Happy to have something to take her mind off the election, she set to cooking, once again. Meanwhile, Arthur flipped through the paper, and Albus began to talk to Severus.

"Severus, forgive me for overreacting last night," the headmaster said, and Molly glanced over at Severus to see him frown.

"I thought it was for the best that I go," he said.

"Yes, you're right, it was. Minerva and I stopped by St. Mungo's last night, and the healers said that your potion saved Kingsley's life."

"Oh, how is he?" Molly cut in. "Is he awake yet?"

"No, unfortunately not," Albus said with a sigh. "But he is recovering. It will take some time for him to recuperate. The healers think he suffered from both the Cruciatus and Cruento curses."

Molly shuddered. An unforgivable and one of the darkest hexes known to wizard-kind. "Whoever did that to him should be locked up and never let out!" she exclaimed angrily as she put more sausage into the frying pan. "Indeed, I think that's too kind a punishment for him, or any death eater for that matter!"

Minerva suddenly got up from the table and said, "I need some fresh air."

Molly looked at the older woman in surprise. "Is everything alright?" Minerva looked pale and wouldn't meet her eyes. Then Molly remembered that Severus was in the room. She glanced at the ex-Death Eater, wondering if she'd offended him, but his face was impassive as he continued to drink his coffee.

"I'm fine," Minerva muttered as she left the kitchen.

Albus watched her go, then sighed. "Molly, perhaps not all death eaters are the same," he said gravely.

She frowned. He'd always had a soft spot for Severus. True, the man had put himself in danger countless times for the Order, but it was not, as Albus seemed to assume, a selfless sacrifice. It was his rightful penitence.

"Now," Albus said, his tone becoming lighter, "Severus, you and I need to have a little chat."

"Oh, should we leave ..." Arthur began, looking over at Molly.

"No, no, it's nothing private," Albus said. "We only need to discuss the issue of Harry's learning occulmency."

Severus put down his book. "Albus, you know I cannot ..."

With a sigh, the old man said, "Yes, unfortunately, I do know it. But someone has to teach him ... Minerva said he's still having these visions. And I believe it's still too dangerous for me to teach him."

Severus shrugged. "And so how do I fit into this discussion?"

Albus said, "I believe we both know someone with the skills to teach him."

Severus looked confused for a moment. Then, he closed his eyes and murmured, "No."

"Yes, Severus. But, you know as well as I do that she needs a little tutoring of her own before she can help Harry. She's a natural legilimens, though you'll need to teach her to focus. And she'll need to spend some time on occulmency, as well, for her own good as well as for Harry's. Seeing as you get along with Charlotte a little better than you do Harry, I thought ..."

Severus's eyes snapped open. "No. I cannot do it. I will not teach her. You teach her."

"I won't have time," Albus said. "Minerva and I leave again today, and we won't be back for any considerable length of time until just before term begins. I think Charlotte needs to begin lessons with Harry no later than the start of term. So, you'll have the next few weeks to ..."

"Albus, please, don't make me do this."

"I've brought along a pensieve from Hogwarts so that you can protect your privacy."

Severus snorted. "Yes, a lot of good that did me before."

Albus raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure Charlotte will respect your privacy."

"Well, I'm not."

"I'm sorry, Severus, but you don't have much choice in this matter," Albus said firmly. "You can either teach Harry or you can teach Charlotte, so she can continue teaching Harry."

"Dammit, Albus, I don't want her in my head!" Severus bit out angrily, and Molly glanced at the two men in surprise. She'd never heard Severus, who was so quick to speak rudely to others, take that tone with Albus before.

But the headmaster did not rebuke his potions master. Instead, he said gently, "Have some faith in her, Severus."

Molly cut into the tense silence that followed, saying cheerfully, "Here's your breakfast, Albus."

"Ah, thank you Molly," and then, after a big spoonful of the fried tomatoes, "Delicious. Really, Severus, you should eat breakfast more often."

Molly had just sat down at the table when Charlotte came in, Minerva at her side.

"Good morning!" the younger woman said with a bright smile, strolling up to her grandfather to plant a smacking kiss on his cheek.

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Apparently, there's something in the Dumbledore gene pool that makes them abnormally cheerful at unnatural hours."

Severus snorted, and Molly said, "Well, I think it's charming. Good morning, Charlotte, dear. Can I get you something to eat?"

"For Merlin's sake, Molly, sit down and rest a minute," Arthur mumbled from behind his paper.

"I'm fine, Molly, thanks though. I'll just get some fruit or something."

"You're looking well, my child," Albus said. "Though perhaps a bit tired."

As Charlotte sat down at the table, orange in hand, Molly saw her eyes flicker momentarily to Severus, who, to Molly's surprise, returned the glance.

"I didn't get much sleep," Charlotte admitted, her eyes now on the orange she was peeling, "but I'm quite all right."

Molly looked back at Severus. His eyes remained on Charlotte for several more moments before he looked back down at his book. As sure as there was magic, Molly thought anxiously, there was something going on between the two of them.

Glancing back at Charlotte, Molly said, "I've been thinking, Albus. What if, sometime in the next few weeks, I take Charlotte out to Diagon Alley? She's seen so little of our world! I know it's dangerous, but it might do her good to see something more than the inside of this house."

And it will definitely do her good to see more than that morose man, Molly added silently. She couldn't help but think of Severus's father when she looked at him, and Molly had no desire to see Charlotte become like his mother. Isolde MacFarlan had reportedly been a happy, pretty young woman when she'd married Augustus Snape; by the time she'd died, she'd been nothing but a shell of a her former self.

Before Albus had a chance to answer, Arthur suddenly threw down the paper in disgust. "This is ludicrous!"

Everyone stared at him. "What is?" Molly asked, startled.

Arthur didn't speak for a moment, then he looked at Albus. "Have you seen this?" he asked, picking up the paper and shaking it.

"I only looked at the front page," Albus said.

Arthur sighed and began to read. "Page 3. 'Minister Signs Executive Order Tightening Non-Human Regulations. Late last night, Minister Tiberius Odgen signed into law an executive order that requires all non-human creatures, including part-humans such as werewolves and vampires, to register with the Ministry.'"

"But, there's already legislation requiring registration!" Molly exclaimed.

"Yes, but listen," Arthur said impatiently. " 'Whereas previous regulations only required such creatures to sign the registry, the new law, effective immediately, will require all creatures to report to the Ministry and receive a brand indicating their status. Creatures that are obviously non-human, such as house elves and goblins, will not have to be branded, but those creatures with humanoid features, or who are part-human, such as werewolves, will be branded with a letter corresponding to their status. Charmed to appear both on the creature's skin and any outer clothing, the brand will allow wizards to recognize dangerous non-humans at a quick glance. As Minsiter Odgen wisely explained, 'For too long, peace-loving witches and wizards have been at the mercy of these animals masquerading as humans. It's high time we put the leash on them in order to keep our people safe.' Any creature not reporting to the ministry within the next 48 hours will be held in contempt of t! he ministry and subject to fines and arrest.'"

No one spoke for a moment. Then Charlotte burst out, "That's horrible! This isn't Nazi Germany, for god's sake! Can he really do this?"

Albus's face was grave. "Legally, he has every right, as Interim Minister, to sign an executive order. The Wizengamot can declare the law unconstitutional, but it will take months to do so."

"I have to respond to this," Arthur said suddenly. "If this bloody election is good for anything, I'll have to do something about this."

Albus sighed. "Yes, but you'll have to do it craftily. Most people will consider it a perfectly acceptable law. If you run out today and start lambasting it, you'll be playing right into Odgen's hands."

Arthur put his head into his hands. "I can't do this, Albus! I'm a poor, obscure nobody! I'm an outsider!" He pointed at the paper almost violently. "They only got my name right because you told them how to spell it!"

Charlotte said quietly, "Perhaps you can use this to your advantage."

Arthur looked up. "What do you mean?"

"Well, in muggle politics, at least, American politicians love to call themselves outsiders. They love to claim they're just like the rest of us." Charlotte suddenly put down her orange and spread her hands out in front of her. " 'Fellow citizens,'" she said in a mock serious voice. Molly grinned as Charlotte continued, " 'It's true that, like most of you, I'm not a wealthy man. It's true that, like most of you, I've not been entrenched in wizarding politics. You might ask, how can an ordinary wizard, someone just like yourselves, handle the difficult times ahead?'"

Charlotte then looked earnestly at Arthur. "Next, you have to slam your fist onto a podium, or make some sort of emphatic movement with your hands. Then you say something like, 'I may not be a Ministry insider, but I do know this. Like you, I am parent who wants to raise his children a world without fear.' Pause for applause, of course. 'Now, while I have the utmost respect for Odgen' - what, you don't? well, politics requires a few white lies, I suppose - 'his latest proposal' - now, wave a paper around in your hand, it doesn't matter what's on it - 'ignores the real problem. Should we really be wasting our resources on new regulations, regulations that simply duplicate our old ones?' - Never mind that the two proposals are really quite different. - 'We should be concentrating our efforts on finding and bringing down Voldemort! He's the real enemy here, and my plan will make sure that we don't forget that.' Of course, then comes the tricky part, because you actually n! eed some sort of plan."

Charlotte stopped and looked around the table. There wasn't a single straight face among them; even Severus's lips were twitching. "What is everyone laughing at?" she asked, a coy smile on her lips.

"You wouldn't happen to want a job as a speech writer?" Arthur asked, laughing so hard that tears were forming in his eyes.

"Hmmm ... considering that laughter probably isn't the response you should be aiming for..."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Arthur agreed, wiping his eyes. Then he sighed. "I'm still left not knowing what to do, though."

Minerva said, "I think you need to decide, Arthur, what your goal is. Are you running to run or are you running to win?"

Arthur shrugged. "I think it's pretty obvious I'm only running to form an opposition to Odgen. I don't possibly see how I can win."

Molly put down her coffee mug. "No, Arthur, you're running to win."

He looked at her in surprise. "What? But Mol, you know ..."

She shook her head. "It's like chess, Arthur. You always play to win, no matter how good your opponent. If you play to lose, there's no chance of winning." She met her husband's eye. "I certainly didn't want you in this game, but now that you are ... make him afraid of you."

Severus murmured, "A very Slytherin response for a Gryffindor, Molly."

She raised her chin. "Yes, well, there may be a rare occasion or two when Slytherins have the right idea. And besides, think of Remus ... if you can win ..."

Still, Arthur looked unconvinced. "The only problem with this is that I'm the one who has to run. What do I do? Do I give a press conference today? Do I let them interview me? Do I start giving speeches? Maybe I should just ignore it for a bit, let Odgen hex himself with his stupid policies ..."

"No," Minerva said suddenly. "One way or the other, you'll be in the news. The question is, will it be Odgen who tells them what to print or you?"

Albus nodded appreciatively. "Yes, she's right. You have to control your image."

Arthur grimaced. "My image? Dear Merlin ..."

"Maybe," Molly said, "maybe Charlotte's little impromptu speech was more useful than funny. The press will definitely talk about how, uh, finically disadvantaged we are. Maybe you should try to make it something worth celebrating, make it sound like you can understand the common wizard's perspective."

"Yes," Minerva said, smiling. "Be on the offensive, not the defensive about it."

Even Severus spoke up. "And call Voldemort by his name."

Arthur gaped. "But... no one likes to hear it ..."

"At best," Severus continued, "you'll be thought of as bold. At worst, you'll keep the issue in the news. I can already see this sorry excuse of a paper focusing on you or Odgen instead of the war."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, maybe you're right. And this executive order?" he asked, looking around the table.

"Actually," Albus said, "I rather liked Charlotte's suggestion about that one, as well. Tell the press that Odgen's avoiding the real issue. Tell them he's wasting his effort on these regulations when he should be going after Voldemort. Put Odgen on the defensive, and buy yourself some time until you have to come up with a platform of your own."

Arthur snorted. "You mean, until you all can come up with a platform for me."

"Hey," Charlotte said, smiling gently. "There's no shame in that ... consider us your 'kitchen cabinet'."

Flashing her a grateful smile, Arthur stood up and stretched. "Well, thanks for you help." Then he looked at Albus and Minerva. "You'll be leaving today?"

Minerva said, "In a few hours, as soon as Harry wakes up."

"Until we come up with a better way of communicating between Order members, why don't you ask Harry if you can borrow Hedwig?" Albus suggested. "That owl is the most brilliant of her kind ... if you need to get in touch with us, she'll find us. But, if all goes to plan, we'll be in Turkey for the rest of this week, then we'll be back here for a day ... I'll need you and Molly to tell everyone there'll be an Order meeting next Sunday. Then we'll travel to Italy and the Czech Republic. After that, we should be finished with our little diplomatic tour."

"How's that going, by the way?" Arthur asked.

Albus sighed. "Not very well. We've gotten some support, but it's not very enthusiastic. The general consensus seems to be that this is Britain's war."

Arthur shook his head. "And I'm signing up to be Minister. As Ron would say, mental."

Molly laughed as she stood to give her husband a farewell kiss. "I'll save some dinner," she murmured.

As Arthur disappeared into the stairwell, Severus said to Charlotte, "Your essay on fluxweed? Is it done?"

Charlotte grimaced. "It's getting there."

"Really? By your eating an orange?"

"She's hardly had any breakfast!" Molly cut in angrily. "And she's tired." Then, turning quickly to Albus, she said, "About that trip into Diagon Alley ..."

"No," Severus bit out. "it's too dangerous."

"I don't believe I was asking you," Molly replied irritably. She looked pleadingly at Albus. Just as he was getting ready to speak, Tonks stumbled into the kitchen looking bleary-eyed.

"Morning," she grumbled, going over to the stove.

"Tonks!" Molly cried. "Tonks can go with us. She's an Auror, she can watch out for us, and I'm sure she'd love to do some shopping ..."

Tonks looked at the table in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Severus sneered. "Yes, Tonks, wouldn't you love a little shopping trip with Miss Richardson? You and she are great friends, aren't you?"

Tonks and Charlotte glanced at each other, and Charlotte quickly said, "Listen, Molly, it's really nice of you to offer, but it's far too much trouble, and I have so much work to do as it is ..."

"And I'm sure I'll be terribly busy at work," Tonks added.

"Not on your day off, you won't be," Molly reasoned. "And Charlotte, you've got to take a break. Surely you want to get out of the house."

Molly glanced at Albus, whose face was impassive as he watched the scene unfolding.

"Even if Tonks did want to go," Severus said, slapping his book to the table, "she cannot provide enough protection. What if you were ambushed by a whole group of death eaters?"

Albus said softly, "Molly, I'm afraid Severus is right."

Molly sighed. "Very well, but I think she needs her rest. Today, why don't you spend the day with the kids and me?" she asked Charlotte with a motherly smile. Then she glared at Severus. "Perhaps Charlotte could use a break."

"I believe Miss Richardson is old enough to make up her own mind," he snapped.

"Well, perhaps being stuck here with you has somewhat addled her wits!"

"You two do realize I'm still in the room?" Charlotte asked quietly.

Molly sighed and said, "Of course, dear, I'm sorry. It's just that I think..."

"It's pretty clear what you think," Severus snapped. Pushing away from the table, he muttered something that sounded unfortunately close to, "Bloody mother hen," before storming into his lab and slamming the door.

"Uh ..." Tonks said, standing by the stove, teapot still poised above her mug. She quickly poured her tea and said, "Uh, I've got to get going."

"Yes, why don't we see you out?" Minerva said, standing quickly. "I believe, Albus, you wanted to talk to Tonks about the events of yesterday."

"Yes, absolutely," he said, taking the cue. The three hurried out of the kitchen, leaving Charlotte and Molly alone.

"He's right, you know," Charlotte said quietly. "I'm an adult, Molly. I can make my own decisions."

"I never meant to suggest that you couldn't, dear." Then, meeting the younger woman's eye, she said frankly, "He's no good for you, Charlotte."

Charlotte's face flushed bright red, and she muttered, "I don't know what you mean." Then, pushing away from the table, she said, "I need to finish some work."

Molly watched Charlotte head upstairs with a sinking heart. She hadn't meant to offend the young woman. Then, she thought again of Isolde Snape, and all doubt disappeared. Nosy or not, Molly had no intention of letting Charlotte go down the wrong path.