E Pluribus Unum

Chapter 54 – The Long Goodbye

Minuet looked up at Hermione with some concern. The older girl had been studying all evening. Normally, Hermione studying wouldn't have seemed odd, after all it was Hermione. But tonight there was something feverish about her, something that disturbed Min.

“You all right?” Min asked in a soft voice.

Hermione looked up at her with a frown.

“N.E.W.T.s,” she replied, with a touch of irritation at the interruption. Minuet was tempted to let it lie, but the bushy hair was wilder than usual and the frown lines more deeply graven then she had ever seen them before.

“Pull the other one, it has got bells on it,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes. Hermione opened her mouth on what looked to be a pretty hot retort and then closed it again.

“It's Ron,” she admitted slowly. Minuet nodded in sudden comprehension. Since the little row in Hogsmeade Ron had been conspicuous by his absence. Harry had been silent on the subject, but Min knew how much his friend's coldness had affected him.

“You know, there is something that none of you have thought about,” she ventured with great wariness. She knew that she was a latecomer into this relationship and tended to tread carefully because of that.

“Oh?” Hermione gave her an encouraging look and Minuet took a deep breath.

“His parents know his better than anyone and he might actually listen to them.” she suggested and Hermione's face lit up.

“Min, you are brilliant, utterly brilliant!” Hermione abandoned her books and left the Room of Requirement without a backwards look. Minuet smiled and hoped that it would turn out all right. With the final battle looming before them, it would be awful if any of them died before they could patch up their friendship.

Kathryn sat back and watched as Albus Dumbledore tried to explain to the Weasleys how he had managed to “forget” to mention that their youngest son was dating a demon. It was utterly classic. Of course, she realized suddenly, she hadn't thought to mention it to them either and she had seen them several times at Order meeting since she had found out.

That was an embarrassing slip up.

“To be honest, Molly, Arthur, there was just so much going on that I wasn't certain of who knew what,” Albus finally admitted. “I assumed that Ron had talked to you about his new girlfriend.”

“No, for all we knew, he was still dating Hermione,” Arthur replied, his voice soft, but with his eyes filed with both concern and anger.

“What happened between Hermione and my Ron that drove him to a demon,” Molly's voice was rising in indignation and Kathryn moved to stop that train of reasoning before it began.

“She did nothing wrong, absolve her of any responsibility in this,” she snapped, defending the absent girl. “Ron met a pretty girl who had a thousand years of experience at manipulating young men. Hermione never stood a chance.” The starkness of that truth surprised Arthur and Molly, she could see it in their eyes.

“But now that he knows, why doesn't he leave her and come back to Hermione?” Molly asked, still raging but under better control now.

“Well, two things,” Albus began slowly. “One: he doesn't wish to admit to such a grievous error in front of his best friends, and Two: the demon in question is not entirely evil.” Hearing him say it made Kathryn wince a little.

The resultant explosion from the Weasleys was completely understandable.

“You owled my parents!” Ron raged at them. “What right did you have to do that?” Minuet was trying to look as small as possible as the redhead screamed at his two best friends.

“You wouldn't even talk to us, we were worried,” Harry replied, his voice calm and his eyes sad. Minuet didn't know why he wasn't angry at all, but he just stood there facing down Ron's anger with a gentle sadness.

“So you owled my parents and told them I was dating a demon?” Put that way it sounded rather bad.

“You are dating a demon,” Hermione shot back angrily. Her response was more what Minuet had expected. A good brawl might clear the air between them, but Harry's lack of anger concerned Minuet.

“She's not like that, but I don't expect you to understand!” Ron shouted at her.

“Actually we do understand, you prat, she saved my life!” Hermione yelled back and Ron fell silent in surprise.

“What?”

“If you had been talking to us, you would have known that,” Hermione muttered.

“I don't understand. First you tell me to break up with her because she's evil and now you say you know she's not.” Ron looked a little shell shocked.

“We were wrong about her and we're sorry,” Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“She's not entirely good,” Ron admitted slowly. “But I love her and I know she can find her way back.” The last was said with a defiant tone and he seemed surprised by the answering agreement from Harry and Hermione.

“Does that mean that you forgive Snape about Orion?” Harry asked with a patience and kindness that surprised the other boy.

“I've been an idiot about a lot of things, but Brinna has made me see that black and white aren't the only options,” Ron admitted with a rueful smile.

“Well, then she has already done good for you,” Harry answered and Ron broke into a beatific smile.

“Friends?” he asked, with a shy duck of the head.

“Forever!” Hermione shouted and Minuet slipped away to let them hug and cry in privacy.

Later on, sitting in Binns' class, listening to him drone on about the Goblin Wars, Minuet had time to wonder.

Could you ever really trust a demon? Even if she was striving towards redemption, was it at all certain, that when push came to shove, she wouldn't revert to form and go all dark side on them?

Minuet turned the thought around in her mind, but couldn't see an answer to it.

In the end, she decided that Uncle Severus was probably a better judge about the possibility of redemption from evil than she was and she would just have to trust him to know what to do if this went badly.

But just in case, she would need a back-up plan.

It took many hours to calm Molly and Arthur down and get them to a semblance of calm about the situation. Kathryn was deeply grateful that Severus wasn't present for the discussion, his protectiveness of Brinna was such that the sorts of things that Molly was saying about her would have caused some real problems.

“My youngest children cannot seem to keep from meddling with the Dark,” Arthur muttered and Kathryn winced yet again. She hadn't forgotten about Tom Riddle's diary exactly, but it certainly hadn't been something she had considered in her dealings with the Weasleys. She could see how that particular experience could make any parent a little paranoid.

It wasn't as though the two of them didn't have a point, after all. Despite everything, Brina was a demon...sort of. She sighed deeply and wished ardently for the days when the lines between good and evil were more clearly defined, at least in her own mind.

“Its not as though we don't understand your objections, Molly,” Albus was saying, still trying to calm down Ron's mother.

“You're just willing to risk my son's life on the chance that this creature might turn good,” Molly retorted and now it was Albus' turn to wince.

“No, he means that Ron is willing to risk his life for the person he is in love with and that we don't have much say in the matter,” Kathryn corrected gently. “His loyalty and compassion may be the very things that could save her.”

“Or they could get him killed,” Molly reminded her.

“Either way, you raised him to be the man he is today and that man has chosen to stand by Brinna's side, no matter what,” Albus broke in gently, but with firmness.

“Grandmére would say that fate's guiding hand cannot be redirected easily,” Kathryn sighed, wishing she had something better with which to soothe them.

“You don't have children of your own, do you?” Molly returned with some venom. Kathryn groaned and rubbed her eyes with her fists.

“Molly, if Orion was in this situation I would be as worried and angry as you are. His life and safety aren't things that I would want to gamble with. But Ron is seventeen, of legal age, and – arguably – of sound mind. There is damn little any of us can do about this. Hell, he wouldn't even talk to Harry and Hermione for months because they were against the relationship. What exactly do you think we can do?” She was frustrated, tired and frightened. She just wanted to go to bed and sleep.

“I don't know,” Molly deflated and the weariness and grief in her face made Kathryn feel like a monster. “I just want him safe, that's all.”

“Tell that to the other side,” Kathryn grumbled to herself and was glad that no one heard her.

Ron Weasley was standing in front of his desk and trying manfully to apologize. There was a part of Severus that wanted to not accept the stammering boy's regrets, however Arthur was still one of Severus' few friends and he supposed that he owed it to him to be a trifle gracious to his son.

“I know that I've been a prat, sir. I don't expect you to forgive me for it, but I am sorry,” he concluded rather mournfully.

“If Albus Dumbledore could forgive me my past sins – which were a thousand times worse than your own, by the way – then I can hardly do less by you, Weasley,” he answered after a moment. The boy beamed at him and Severus sighed. They were all just so damnably young. Just looking at the fresh-faced youth made him feel old and dirty.

“Thank you sir.” Weasley seemed smiling and happy again, but Severus' practiced eyes could pick out a the underlying worry and tension. He understood all to well what the young man feared, because he shared that concern.

The final confrontation was coming and neither one of them was entirely certain which side Brinna would end up on.

Minuet was sitting alone in the Room of Requirement for a change. She had escaped the tension of the Great Hall and sought out the sanctuary of the Room early in the evening. She had apparently needed a music room today, because the place was done in Rococo golden cherubs and had a giant piano in the middle of the room. There were other instruments as well, but it was the piano that was causing her the most trouble.

It was a Spellbound piano, one of the finest instruments ever made. She had desperately wanted one as a child, but even her father hadn't been wealthy enough to get one for her. Marcus Spellbinder had only made five of them and they were not for sale by their owners for any amount of money. Her fingers itched to play it, but instead she stared angrily at it from across the room.

She had, of course, had music lessons all her life. All purebred young witches did. It was just that after her father had been arrested, Mademoiselle Giselle had abruptly stopped coming to teach her. The dance mistress, the painting teacher, they had also gone away, but it had been the loss of her piano lessons that had hit her the hardest.

Her anger and grief over that had been tucked away with all the other sorrows attendant on the event. She had pretended that it didn't matter as she tended to Tina's needs and bolstered up her mother.

Now she was eyeing the piano with hostility. It wasn't the instrument's fault, of course, but it was a symbol of all that had changed for her. It sat there, taunting her with her lost childhood.

“I survived and I can live without you,” she hissed at the black Spellbound Grand.

“Um, Min, you are talking to a piano,” Harry's voice cut through her introspection and she spun in surprise.

“I didn't hear you come in,” she admitted, with a rueful grimace.

“I can see that,” he teased. “So, do I need to vanquish the piano for you?” He was joking, she knew, but there was an undertone of seriousness. The fact that Harry was willing to fight to protect her was something she took for granted, but at that moment she saw herself for the weakness that she potentially could be for him.

“No, Harry, its not the piano's fault,” she replied, but her mind was now on something completely different.

“Then why were you trying to hex it with your eyes?” he asked and she snorted in amusement.

“It was reminding me of everything my father lost for us all,” she answered, sighing.

“So it talks back?” he asked in interest, wandering over to the ebony and gold instrument.

“Of course not, Harry, pianos don t talk,” she chortled.

“Hey, before I got here, I would have said the same thing about paintings,” he shot back and she nodded. Things that she took for granted were often alien and new to Harry.

“That piano doesn't need to talk,” she answered and gave into the inevitable.

She sat down before the instrument and settled her fingers over the keys. There was a soft thrumming in her bones as the piano read her and readjusted to her height and reach and then she settled in to play.

Harry sat in one of the nearby upholstered chairs and watched her. Minuet, black hair back in a ponytail, strands working loose to fall around her face, eyes intent on the keys before her, was probably the most heartbreakingly beautiful thing he had ever seen. She had a stubborn little chin and her nose was a little sharp, but her huge dark eyes softened the aristocratic features and her easy smile made her more pixie than princess to him.

She started to play and he gasped in surprise.

Magical pianos were apparently more like keyboards than pianos. The music that she conjured forth was something slow and sort of classical sounding, but there were the sounds of violins, birds chirping, the wind through the trees, and other things that he couldn't identify as easily.

She played the same way that she lived, with an assurance and grace far beyond her years. He wondered sometimes what she had paid for her maturity. He knew some of it. He knew that the social ostracism she had endured had strengthened her, but the core of maturity had been there long before, he suspected.

The music was evoking a forest glade, he realized suddenly. The creaking of the trees, the songs of the birds, the wind in the branches, and the soft melody that threaded through it all, they created the sensation that you were surrounded by invisible trees. He closed his eyes and could almost see the glade, sun slanting through the branches, making dappled patterns on the leaf-strewn ground.

He opened his eyes again and saw the slender form of the girl who had stolen his heart. Her face was sad and he wished that he could make every childhood hurt go away.

Look at her, he thought. She looks perfectly at home in all this splendor. She was born to wealth and privilege, to the aristocratic pureblooded society of wizards and witches. He came from the suburbs of Muggle London. She was polished and graceful and completely at ease.

The doubts started to grow in his mind and he could feel a sort of despair eating away at him.

“Harry?” Minuet was beside him and he realized that the music had stopped.

“Why on earth would you want me, when there are so many better choices, Min,” he asked, anguished and filled with a sudden self loathing.

Minuet stared at him in shock for a moment and then cupped his face in her hands and stared him in the eyes.

“Because you see me, Harry. You look at me and see me. You don't see my father or my lineage, or the advantages or disadvantages to an alliance with my family, you don't even see a Slytherin.” She took a breath. “I love you because you are smart, funny, caring, gentle, kind, brave, noble and utterly adorable,” she said with a soft smile and her heart in her eyes. “I wouldn't want to be with anyone else in the entire universe.” her voice and tone penetrated the gloom that had washed over him and he shook himself.

“Sorry, I don't know where all that came from,” he admitted.

“I do,” she whispered back and he shivered in sudden understanding. They had nearly gotten him and he hadn't even realized what was happening.

With a fierceness that surprised them both he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard. He forgot that she was still only fifteen and that he wasn't supposed to be doing this. He forgot everything but that they needed each other.

Her soft sighs and panting woke him to his responsibilities and he paused to take a breath and pull back.

“Don't you dare, Harry Potter,” she growled at him and pulled him back to her mouth. He thought of a thousand good reasons why he shouldn't be doing this, including the fact that Snape would find uniquely painful ways of making him pay for it, but the look in her eyes made him realize that any punishment was worth it.

If he was going to die in a few days anyway, he might as well just do what they both wanted anyway.

Either way he would die, either Voldemort would kill him or Snape would.