Before she was even cleared to return to classes Snape had his daughter in the Room of Requirement with him blowing up dummies and practicing shields. 

“What will you do if Madam Pomfrey finds out what we’re doing?”  Brogan asked, her face was flushed after a half hour of work and she was holding a drippy glass of ice water up to her cheek.

“Lie.” was the curt response as he demolished another dummy, this one giving off a whiff of ozone as it disappeared.

“You know Da, I really am learning to love you.”  Snape gave her a smile which was actually a terrifying display of teeth and malevolence but Brogan had gotten used to him by now and took it as a reciprocation of affection. She watched him destroy a few more things and then he joined her for his own glass of water.

“So, did you get a chance to tell the Headmaster about the magic number?”  Brogan was still extraordinarily relieved that her task was over and absurdly grateful that she hadn’t done it alone.  Really her presence was barely required between Hermione cannily checking on him and Snape looming, Slughorn had just rolled over and given them everything.  Yuck, that was an unsettling metaphor.

“I did and he believes he has a lead on where an item might be.  The orphanage had regular outings to the seaside, to one beach in particular, and the Headmaster has found a cave nearby apparently oozing with magic.”

“So, like that locket might be in a cave by the seaside?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s going to retrieve it, alone or with Order members?”

“He inquired if you were available to go with him.”

“Me?  Why me?  I can’t even use magic off the school grounds.”

“Indeed, the mind boggles does it not?”

“So, what did you say?  Am I available?”

Snape gave her a look which strongly suggested she was either an imbecile or he was completely immune to her sarcasm.   “He acquiesced to the three of us going.”

“Really?  Why is he so keen on me going?  Does he want me to wear a bikini in case we meet some Death Eaters?”

Snape growled and Brogan laughed and pointed to the other side of the room where a fresh crop of dummies had appeared.  Rather than the faceless black robed dummies the room usually created these had long white hair, beards and were wearing garish robes.  They destroyed all of them together and had large grins by the end.

 ---------

“Do you think it’s true that the Headmaster can speak to the spirit of Hogwarts?”  Brogan asked a little nervously as they made their way down the stairs after the session.

“Absolutely not, he just gets the paintings to spy for him,” sneered Snape glaring at a very obvious looking man in a nearby frame with a huge mustache and a strange yellowy-green waistcoat.

“It’s not as if it’s a bother!” muttered the man when Brogan glanced back at him with a smile.

 ---------

A week later Snape hadn’t said another word about their trip to the seaside so Brogan worked up the courage to ask.  “You’re still recovering; besides the weather has been horrid lately, what’s the point of going to the seaside when it’s so poor out?”

It was nice to be sheltered and protected for once but Brogan was notoriously bad about dreading upcoming events, surely her da had noticed during the Triwizard Tournament?  Draco knew all too well what a brooder Harry was; he had seen him pale and sweaty before the dragon task and then completely calm and competent once he was actually facing the humongous furious fire-breathing dragon.

Draco knew that left to her own devices, and Snape’s, she would have spent all of August pale and sweaty in that little bedroom at Spinner’s End so it was with a surprising amount of determination that he accepted the challenge of getting them out every day that month and keeping Harry, or Princess, busy.  And then they were finally at Hogwarts and dragons were showing up every fortnight or so to keep Brogan distracted but now thanks to the headmaster they were back in the metaphorical tent and waiting.

He tried homework as a distraction and failed pretty miserably, it seemed as though if given the opportunity Brogan really would have left Hogwarts for more practical training that year.  She would scrape out something barely acceptable for homework and that was it.  If Draco tried to inspire some scholastic pride Brogan would just roll her eyes and ask how knowing when to pick puffapods was useful for killing Death Eaters.  Which bothered Draco for many reasons but bothered him too much to actually respond coherently.

He avoided her for a few days after that, silently fuming because his father was a Death Eater you know, and a lot of his friends fathers too, and actually her own father as a matter of fact.  And so he was rather surprised when Ron slipped into the bathroom behind him before lunch and threw a careless locking spell at the door.

“Anyone can get through that you know, like literally a first-year could.”  Draco sneered.

“I am familiar with how first-years can get through locked doors and into places where they really shouldn’t.”  Ron smiled, “But Hermione is already at lunch.  Besides, I don’t need that long.”  Ron finished, getting more serious.

Draco sighed and leaned against the wall, letting his head thunk the stones a tiny bit.  “I know, she’s a mess.  It’s the nerves and I can’t distract her.”

“What have you tried?”

“Homework.”

Ron scoffed, “That’s it? She isn’t Hermione you know.  ‘Sides, the Dursleys punished Harry if he got better grades than his cousin Dudley and his cousin Dudley is an absolute moron.”

“Oh.” said Draco in a quiet voice.

“I think the whole nerves thing goes back to the Dursleys actually, he was so powerless there you know.  And they were so, I don’t know, cruel.  He had this Aunt Marge that hated him and had a dog that also hated Harry; Dudley would start teasing as soon as he knew Marge was coming, right,” and Ron started in a bitter sing-song that made Draco’s hackles rise, “Aunt Marge is coming, with Ripper and Ripper is going to rip you.”

“So he gets this dread going...”  Ron trailed off but Draco had nothing to add besides maybe another softer oh.

“It seems like you really do like Brogan, you know with that necklace and all and you’ve stuck it out almost the whole year now.”  He swallowed, “With Harry, or Brogan, almost everything goes back to the Dursleys.  Whenever he’s acting really weird or you just can’t figure him out try to remember that.”

Draco nodded instead of saying oh again, “Snape takes him for training almost every night now.  I think they just blow up dummies but that probably helps, right?”

Ron nodded, pleased.  “Has she said anything about researching the horcruxes?  How they’re made or how to destroy them?”

“No, and I don’t want her to do that.”

“Yeah, she’d figure things out way too fast if she thought about them at all.”

“I wonder if the, the horcrux, is trying to suppress those thoughts.”  Draco whispered.

Ron turned green, “I hate thinking about it being sentient...”

“Do you think the poisoned mead might have hurt it?”

Ron gave him a sympathetic look, “No mate, he came just as close to death when the basilisk bit him and that didn’t hurt it.”

Draco nodded tightly his eyes glassy.

“Do you know if Snape has learned anything?”

“I don’t think he has, I think that’s why he goes to the room and destroys shit all the time.  He’s gone through most of his books by now; but he doesn’t have as many dark books as my father does.”

“There are lots of places to get books Draco.”  Ron said severely.

Draco shrugged and Ron shifted closer to put a hand on his shoulder. “If you went back to your father and found the information how would you even get it back to us?  And how would we explain to Brogan why you went back?  The only thing that would satisfy her would be the truth and, and then she would know and you would be gone, and then what?  Then what would she do?”

They stood quietly for a long moment, until they heard a fist banging on the door, “Oi!  I gotta take a leak and I’m not walking across the bloody castle to find another loo!”

Draco cast a disillusionment charm on himself so whoever was banging would think Ron had locked himself in alone for whatever reason.  Ron gave his general area a two-fingered salute as he opened the door.  (But really if word got out about Draco and Ron locked in the boys bathroom together the school might have collapsed.)

 ---------

Draco tried playing chess with Brogan but she lost and pouted and refused to play again.  He tried playing exploding snap, but really he was a sixth year Slytherin he had outgrown that ridiculous game on his way to the train first year.  Eventually they rediscovered the joys of flying together. 

“Do you think,” asked Brogan one afternoon with her eyes sparkling and her cheeks rosy, “do you think you like me enough to buy me a Firebolt?”

“You already have a Firebolt.” Draco replied, winded and confused.

“I know that, you could just pretend to buy me one and then I could fly my Firebolt.”

Draco looked at her with his mouth slightly gaping, Brogan had flown higher and faster and dammit, more recklessly, than he had ever seen anyone fly before.  If Snape got wind of these ‘practices’ or, Merlin forbid, saw them he would use Draco for potion ingredients.  He would start with Draco’s toenails and work his way up to vital organs and have Draco test each potion as he went.  - And she wanted a better faster broom with which to hurl herself to an early grave?  Not bloody likely.

“No,” Draco finally bit out, “I absolutely do not like you enough to buy you a Firebolt.”

Brogan laughed and blew him a rasberry before she went hurtling down the lake, skimming her toes on the water.  Draco leaned back with his shoulders pulling his broomstick up in a lazy arc, flying higher so he could watch her small shape disappear in the distance, and thought about the Dursleys. 

 ---------

Hermione also noticed how stressed Brogan was getting and decided that she should enlist her help in learning more about horcruxes, but for some reason, maybe it was the same insight that had led her to checking on Slughorn that night -she wasn’t sure, anyway she decided to bounce her idea off of Ron first.

They were in the library together, Hermione double checking her footnotes and Ron just trying to reach twelve bloody inches dammit, how could they be expected to write so much on something so simple?  Hermione finished and couldn’t think of anything else to do, so as much as she didn’t want to interrupt Ron and his twelve bloody inches she was bored and it was on her mind.

“Ron, do you think I should ask Brogan for help with my research?”

Ron gave her a mildly harassed look, “No.” he said curtly and tried to throw himself back at his essay so she wouldn’t want to know why he said that.

Hermione just gave him a very determined look and he began twirling his quill as he figured out what to say.  Something about how Hermione was jealous that Brogan had finished her task and now she wanted to pull her in to help with her own?  That would be less than useless.  Something about how they shouldn’t be seen working together, but they could overcome that with barely any thought at all.

He could tell her that Draco needed the help more but Hermione and Brogan were awkward together now.  They were still friends and he knew that they still loved each other very much but they hadn’t figured out the details yet.  It was so reasonable that Hermione would want to research a project with Brogan, spend time with her like she had with Harry and get over being strangers now.

“Maybe you can ask to be partners for some other project, just not that one.”

“Why?  Harry destroyed one when he was a second year, surely he will have some insights.”

“That was a complete coincidence and we all know it.”

Hermione sighed but she didn’t try to deny it.  Ron reached out for her hand and pulled his chair around so he sat facing her, “I just don’t want Brogan to research horcruxes, I don’t particularly want you to research them either.  Not any of us actually.  We could probably leave it to the adults you know, maybe just this once.”

“Ron, we virtually are the adults now.  Is there a specific reason you don’t want to Brogan to research them?”

Ron nodded.

“And you won’t tell me?”  Ron looked at his shoes, but still held her hand.

“Are you trying to do some noble protect the womenfolk garbage?”

Ron swallowed, “It’s something really really awful and if Brogan finds out she won’t handle it well, so yeah, it is a noble womenfolk thing.  But I would do it if she was still Harry so maybe it’s just protect everyone. 

And the reason I don’t want you to know is, I don’t know.  It will make you sad, it will make you cry and feel helpless and terrible and I feel like I would rather cut off my own arms or have you hate me forever, or even be really huffy and cross for weeks, then watch you cry for a minute if I could help it.”  Ron dared to look up and meet her eyes then, he looked down again quickly reading her next argument in the line of her shoulders even if her mouth wasn’t open to voice it yet.

“I know that you would help, you would read every book in the library; but Snape and Draco are already working on that, right?  And you’re the one who’s always like trust Snape and leave it to the adults.”

Hermione blushed a little and nodded.  “But how am I supposed to not wonder?  You make it sound like something that I might be able to figure out if I think about it for a while.”  She saw Ron look away, not trusting himself to confirm her suspicion -except looking away did confirm her suspicion.

She smacked his arm lightly, trying to release some of the stifling tension that had spread around them.  “Honestly, how am I supposed to not think about it now?  Don’t you know me at all?”

Ron nudged her knee with his own, “you started it.”

“I suppose,” Hermione huffed a little, “but that doesn’t really help now.”

“Maybe a distraction would suit you too.”

“What sort of distraction are you proposing Ron?” Hermione asked with a downright coy look.

Ron felt the tips of his ears start to burn with his blush, he squeezed the hand that he was still (still) holding,

---------

Draco was telling off a swotty little first year Gryffindor, apparently the cocky little thing had been rushing or something and jostled Pansy who was deeply engrossed in telling a story with both hands fluttering all around and she had crashed into a wall.  Brogan was pretty sure that Pansy wasn’t hurt, except her pride of course, and the little lion probably didn’t deserve quite the chewing out he was getting but it didn’t seem to be bothering him too much.  On the contrary it looked like he was straining himself to look as contrite as he could manage so Draco would, please Merlin, let it go already.

It was actually a drama that repeated itself frequently whenever Draco and Pansy were strolling along together paying little to no attention to anything around them.  Brogan found herself trying to remember why it had always irked her so deeply.  It used to make her completely mad, the gross injustice of Draco carrying on, but now she just saw it as an old habit or the bit of drama that it was.  The swotty little lion certainly wasn’t going to be scarred for life because of Draco’s bitching, in fact he was shooting glances over to Pansy now -secret little glances that Pansy was returning with a bit of an eye roll herself.  Well, Draco really was hitting his stride now so that was understandable.

Brogan felt a flush creep across her chest, she had watched variations on this scene all year -actually for several years if you counted the times she had played the swotty lion part and just now she was realizing it was all a lark.  She truly didn’t have a sense of humor before, it was worse than embarrassing to watch that little Gryffindor stand up to Draco and flirt with Pansy knowing that if it had been him, Harry him, he would have gone toe to toe with Draco and made it into a huge fight.  Why had he been such a prat before and how had he changed so quickly, well obviously a lot of quick changes had happened, but this was moral crisis disturbing, this was grasping at the edge of the void disturbing...

“Draco hasn’t found a good sparring person since you changed,” Pansy sighed as Brogan realized the yelling had ended and they were walking again.  “The unresolved sexual tension between you two was always magnificent.”

“Is that what it was?” Brogan asked softly, hoping Draco was still fuming and not listening, “I thought I was just a twat.”

Pansy wrapped an arm around the shorter girl and pulled her in close, “Sorry to say you were actually flirting dear.  Maybe I can get you a book with diagrams.”

“You’re not the first to offer me a book; Hermione told me I had the emotional range of a teaspoon once.”

Pansy laughed and laughed, Brogan looked up to see Draco’s shoulders shaking too, the eavesdropping traitor.

---------

It was a week later, on a Monday when they were having bangers for lunch that Brogan got a letter.  Brogan almost never got letters but she tried to act casual and like a normal person who actually knew people outside of the castle.  Which she did, of course, because the letter was from Bill.

Dear Brogan,

I went to an interesting little gathering last night.  They mentioned Harry Potter might be taking a trip soon.  I tried really hard to get myself invited along too but it was no go.  It sounded as if they didn’t want anyone else to go.  (Your da was not present to voice his no doubt loud and angry objections to that idea.)

Maddeningly frustrating but the one who wants to take Harry on this jaunt alone had his points.  He is correct that as an underage wizard certain wards will not register his presence.  Makes it rather clever to bring along an underage person on such an adventure and frankly I can’t argue that he's the best choice for a powerful secret weapon.  - Don’t let any of the other kids know that I said so.

Also, I don’t know if you noticed what with dodging enchanted necklaces and being poisoned but it seems as if someone is trying to do some serious harm to someone up there at Hogwarts.  We had a rather interesting discussion about who exactly they’re trying to damage (how could one girl not named Harry be so bloody unlucky?) but the who is almost incidental when the perpetrator is so sloppy.  The upshot of that conversation was that perhaps it is not the best idea to have all the thumping good wizards traipsing around leaving the castle all alone (with only all the other professors and staff there to protect the sprogs from sloppiness.)

And again, your da was not invited to lodge his most vehement complaints.  Not that the meeting was anything close to democratic mind you.

I would write to your da but I don’t really trust him not to go raging after he reads it and I rather like my head attached to my shoulders.  I shouldn’t be writing at all of course but I’m starting to figure you out: more information, not less.  It sounds like this trip has been in the works for weeks now, I bet the waiting is driving Harry mad.

The weather seems to be clearing though, I think it will be soon.  Be prepared Princess.

Yours,

Bill

Brogan folded her letter up and almost found herself clutching it to her breast like a complete girl, but then again she was supposed to be acting like one so she indulged.  Bill was so so awesome.  Aside from being a shit for writing all that down in a letter that could be intercepted by anyone friend or foe alike, it was the most dead useful letter Brogan had ever received.  She sighed, clutched and sighed, Merlin’s pants maybe she should flutter her eyelashes too or something. 

Draco gave her a seriously disturbed look so she handed the letter over.  Draco’s response was not to clutch his chest or flutter, he sneered at her and for a moment Brogan remembered the comment about her being the best choice but somehow she thought that wasn’t what was making Draco sneer.  It was so much easier though to ask what didn’t make Draco sneer.

Brogan sighed again, and thought about the Quidditch practice schedule.  During Charms she managed to slip the letter into Hermione’s book with a hastily scribbled note at the bottom, ‘tonight 8:30’.

When Brogan and Draco reached the room they were flustered and giggly, they had encountered a few people on their way and Draco had been really amusing with his innuendos that they were heading for a secret broom closet.  Ron was freshly showered from his practice and had required the room to provide a huge tray of cheese and crackers, Hermione had required a big chalkboard that she was swiftly filling.

She wrote a lot of things that everyone already knew, and she drew underlines on some but eventually she gave up and joined Ron by the crackers.

Finally Ron spoke, “Dumbledore is not going to let Snape go with him, not unless we catch the assassin first and I really don’t see that happening.  We have nothing.  So the question is, do we let Dumbledore go alone.  And by we of course I mean you Brogan, are you going to let Dumbledore go alone?  The last time he tried to destroy a horcrux he almost died immediately, I’m sure he hasn’t done anything smart like tell someone else where this thing might be hidden.  If we let him go and he doesn’t make it back we won’t know where he is or if he accomplished anything.”

“Could we put a tracking charm on him?” asked Hermione.

“Probably not, not without his permission at least.  I’m sure he would notice otherwise and just rip it off.” answered Draco.

“What about Fawkes?  If the Headmaster doesn’t return do you think we could send him off to bring him back?”  asked Brogan.

“We could ask but Fawkes wouldn’t have to answer, it seems risky to just put it all on a creature like that.  If Dumbledore does die, which you know, I hope he doesn’t of course, but if he did then whatever bond they have would be broken.”  Hermione responded glumly.

The following silence was so complete they couldn’t even bring themselves to eat more crackers.  Finally Hermione roused herself, “Alright, nobody is dead yet so here’s what we’re going to do.  The Headmaster will want to go quickly once he decides and make it so Brogan can’t tell us or her father that she’s leaving.”

With a flick of her wand she had the board erased and was writing on it again, “Brogan needs to put together a go-bag with all the useful things we can think of and keep it on her at all times.”

“What’s a go-bag?” asked Draco although it was clear Ron didn’t know either.

“It’s a thing that some muggles prepare in case of an emergency, it has useful things like I just said.”  Hermione answered impatiently, her chalk flying across the board.

“But surely she’ll have her wand, what else would she need?”

“Muggles bring water.”  Hermione said tapping the word water on her list.

“Aguamenti” responded Draco, flicking his wand and crossing out water.

Hermione glared at him, “Brogan, do you know how to do that charm?”

Brogan nodded and Hermione allowed it to stay crossed off.  They spent a while arguing but eventually they had a very short list of go-items and a slightly longer list of spells that Brogan should brush up on.  It was perilously close to having accomplished nothing and yet they all felt better somehow.

Draco was assuring Hermione that he had a wallet thing -not a man-purse whatever she meant by that- which they could use as the bag.  Hermione was asking about extension and weightless charms, they were being very cordial but clearly testing each other.  Brogan drifted over to the cheese and Ron.

“That was good of Bill to write wasn’t it?”  Brogan asked.

“Yeah, it was.  It’s kind of funny how many Weasleys know your secret.”

Brogan wasn’t sure how to respond to that but she hadn’t actually told anyone herself except for Hermione.  However pathetic that was Brogan was willing to cling to it as an out, as a reason to maintain some pretense of secrecy.  As a reason not to say, ‘hey Ginny I’m a girl now and going out with Draco Malfoy but I’ve caught you and Dean in that fourth floor closet like twice so I suppose you’ll get over it too, right?’

If Ron expected her to say something he gave it up when Brogan stuffed half the wheel of cheddar in her mouth at once.

Soon enough Hermione was handing her a list of spells to learn, Draco was crisply folding his list of items for the bag and then Hermione was pulling Ron away from the crackers and quizzing him on the completion of his homework.  Brogan started to chuckle at them but Draco whipped around and asked her about a transfiguration essay they had due the day after tomorrow.

Ron caught Draco’s comment and started laughing, for a moment Brogan and Ron just looked at each other and Brogan’s cocked eyebrow said, ‘we could ditch them and go play snap for an hour,’ but Ron spread his hands out to say, ‘nah, it’s for the best.’  And then Ron and Hermione were on their way to the library.

Since the others had left Draco seemed to decide that they could do their homework where they were for a little while, and also the cheese was still there.  “You know,” remarked Draco casually, “when we return we need to look as though we’ve been in broom closet...”

---------

Snape was sitting near the fire with a potions journal when Brogan finally returned to their rooms.  He didn’t seem bothered by the time, a few minutes past curfew, or the way her hair was extra tangled.  She sat down on the couch across from him, crossed her ankles and took a deep breath.

“I heard you aren’t going after the locket with us.”  She dropped right into it, she knew her professor and father better than to bother with chit chat.

“It’s not my preference but the headmaster and I have discussed it and we seem to be leaning that way.  I was remiss, apparently, in not telling you.”

Brogan shrugged, “Maybe, but it’s okay.  The others think that it’s all Dumbledore’s doing but I wasn’t so sure.  It’s so that you can keep your cover as a spy isn’t it?  There’s someone in the castle trying to kill the headmaster and if they’re in the castle they might discover you’re missing.”

“More or less,” Snape shrugged elegantly.  “Are you concerned for your safety, going with just the Headmaster?”

“Not really.  You’ve been showing me tricks for weeks now and the others have some ideas for other spells I can learn, other things I can bring.

And the Headmaster isn’t too shabby himself of course.”  Brogan added with a smile.

“No, he’s quite proficient.  I wasn’t trying to toy with your emotions though when I was insisting on going as well.  However much I trust you and, grudgingly, the Headmaster I would prefer to go too.”  Snape seemed rather fixed on making his daughter understand what was political maneuvering and what was earnest concern.

“I know.” Brogan smiled, she touched his shoulder lightly on her way to bed, for the Snape family it was quite tender.