The Marriage Law

The Marriage Law Harry Potter

Book 1: Love Chapter 1: The Petition

“Are you certain, Severus?” Albus Dumbledore asked the irritated man. “You are under no obligation.”

Professor Severus Snape squirmed in his seat under the stare of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dumbledore had a parchment in his hand that would legally bind Severus to a student. He felt ill.

“It has to be done, but who would go unchallenged?”

The words at the meeting in Grimmauld Place were burned into his memory. It had been days ago, and time was running out.

The Headmaster’s purple velvet hat balanced on a corner of his high-backed chair. His silver hair and beard flowed over his shoulders and down the front of his majestic robes, while his sharp blue eyes peered over the crest of his spectacles and settled on Severus

.
“Certain enough,” said Severus. A strained expression passed over his features. He pinched the skin between his eyes. “She’s too valuable to let slip into the wrong hands.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore handed a silver piece of parchment to Severus, along with a gold quill that glowed with magic. Severus took it, hands trembling.

---

Hermione Granger was enjoying her breakfast in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy with her best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. when a large barn owl swooped down and dropped a blue scroll on the plate in front of her, splattering food everywhere. She froze.

Ministry of Magic: Department of Matrimonial Destiny was etched across the scroll.

“You’re not old enough,” said Ron, staring at her dumbfounded.

“I know,” replied Hermione, distressed, and ignoring the students complaining about being caught up in the splatter.

“Then what’s that for?” he asked in a panicked voice.

“I don’t know!” cried Hermione, leaving the scroll untouched near her plate. Harry reached out and grabbed it. He unfurled it and read.

“It looks like your activities with the time-turner have been considered when establishing the time of your availability for the Muggle-born Laws.” Harry grimaced.
“Can they do that?” Neville Longbottom breathed. “That’s not right!”

“None of this is right!” Ginny Weasley snapped.

Another crackpot scheme of Minister Fudge’s to safeguard the coming generations of the Wizarding community. The Marriage Law lowered the position of Muggle-born witches to property, and allowed pure-blooded wizards to petition for them.

“You had three proposals in the initial hour of your availability, so you’re being given permission to choose your partner.” Harry studied the page.
“Why didn’t anybody tell me?” Ron was shocked.

“You wouldn’t be permitted,” Harry explained firmly, before Ron had an uncontrollable outburst and lost them the House Cup. “You’re still underage. You didn’t file for an exemption on time. Your relatives are spoken for,” Harry added as a consideration.

“I didn’t know!” Ron protested desperately.

Hermione paled and searched in her pack for a quill. Ron’s face sank as he watched her scrabble on the parchment. The owl that brought it plummeted down from the crossbeams to take it back to the Ministry.
“So that’s it?” Ron asked, calmly.

“I think so,” answered Hermione.

“Who did you go with?” inquired Neville.

“Who did you have to choose from?” asked Ginny.

“Gregory Goyle, Garrick Ollivander, and Severus Snape,” Hermione said blankly.

“Are you serious?” asked Ron, horrified. He had always intended to settle down with her when he had enough to offer. Now the Ministry had torn her away before they had an opportunity.

“Who did you go with?” Harry asked.

“Snape,” hissed Hermione annoyed. “He’s in the Order. Get a hold of yourselves.”

“That would make sense,” Ron said, looking relieved.

“I have to thank him tonight,” Hermione said, gathering up her planner out of her pack.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“We’re getting married this evening,” Hermione said, writing an entry in her planner.

The Ceremony

Hermione stood in front of a full-length mirror frowning at what she saw. Her light-colored wedding robes swished around her ankles as Lavender Brown paced behind her, rubbing her arms.

“I don’t understand, Hermione,” said Lavender. “It’s weird.”

“He has just as much freedom as anybody to take a wife,” answered Hermione as she leaned towards the mirror and swabbed light blue eye shadow over her eyelids.

“You know what she means,” said Parvati Patil. “He’s a teacher!”

Hermione rustled through a makeup case and pulled out her mascara. “I don’t mean to be a criminal. Or have my memory modified to make me more obedient. They could give me to Goyle. Or Ollivander.”

“You might like making wands!” Lavender said desperately.

“I’ve had one conversation with the man, and I was eleven!” Hermione said, scandalized.

Parvati shook her head, incapable of coming up with another solution. A gentle tap came from the doorway.

“Come in,” Hermione called out. Professor McGonagall came in, accompanied by Ginny Weasley.

“I see you’re well,” McGonagall said cautiously, as if expecting Hermione to break into uncontrollable sobbing.

“I’m fine,” Hermione said.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. She had dressed in pale blue robes and clutched a bundle of pink and white wildflowers.

“I’m glad you’ll be in the ceremony, Ginny,” said Hermione.

What she was bothered about was whether Ginny wanted to be her friend or not.

“Don’t worry about me,” Ginny said dismissively. “What should worry you is your father.”

“My father— My parents are here?” Hermione gasped.

“Of course,” McGonagall said bitterly. “The Ministry owled them.”

“He’s shouting at Snape. He’s furious!” Ginny said, eyebrows raised.

“I’ve got to stop this.” Hermione started out of the room.

“Nonsense,” McGonagall said directing her back to the mirror. “Dumbledore will break it up when he’s convinced it’s gone on too long.”

Hermione turned back to her makeup case. She drew out tweezers and shaped her eyebrows.

“Your things will be moved for you,” McGonagall said stiffly.

“Moved?” Hermione asked bewilderedly. “To where?”

“Your new husbands’ quarters,” said McGonagall with a sour expression. “You will be married.”

“Of course,” Hermione said hollowly.

Oh, God, please no…

True, he kept her away from the Death Eaters, and Mr. Ollivander, who she would never again look at in the same way, but he didn’t have to make this pleasant for her. Living with him was bound to be awful.

“It’s time for the ceremony, Hermione,” Ginny said. “We should get moving.”

Parvati lifted a lace veil out of a case and fastened it to Hermione’s soft curls.

“You’ll be great,” Parvati said cautiously. “Don’t be so terrified. I’m sure he has redeemable qualities-”

“What?” snapped Lavender. “Name one!”

“I’m ready,” Hermione said, ignoring them.

Ginny opened the door and the group of ladies marched to the Great Hall where Hermione’s betrothed waited for her.

Hermione stood behind Ginny as faint music tinkled. Ginny hugged her before walking through the double doors clutching her flowers tightly.

Hermione’s father appeared beside Hermione and caught her arm. He stood shorter than her, his silver hair gleaming in the candlelight.

“He’ll protect you,” remarked her father gruffly. “From what I understand he’s one of their best agents. They’re relocating us to France tonight for our protection.”

“I’m sorry it came to this,” she apologized.

“Me too.” Hermione heard the tension in his tone.

“Dad, it’ll be fine.” Hermione hugged him.

Her father rubbed his eyes with a handkerchief and gazed at her.

“You’re lovely,” he said straightening her veil. “I expected you would be. Just not so soon.”

“Thanks.” She took his arm, and they began the slow journey up to the platform at the front of the Great Hall.

The long tables had moved to surround the room where presents and food awaited them. The long benches were arranged to observe the ceremony.

The crowd was full of Ministry officials, teachers, people she didn’t know, and nearly the entire student body. Many of them—mostly girls—looked horrified. Some whispered gossip among themselves. Harry nodded encouragingly. Ron looked green.

She could see Snape as she drew near the front of the hall. He wore a high collared tunic and black long coat. A burgundy ascot lay at his throat and a white flower fastened to his coat. His raven hair was caught behind his neck with a white silk ribbon.

Hermione felt faint, and she looked at the long carpet. Her father put her hand in Snape’s and a Ministry representative chanted the binding spell. Hermione heard herself repeat the proper words at the proper moment and the book was closed, concluding the service. She didn’t even pay attention to what she agreed to. She felt numb.

Nothing prepared her for his lips on hers. They were warm. The pressure startled her. She hadn’t been paying attention.

Snape drew back and frowned. Then he turned away and caught her sleeve. He strode down the aisle, dragging her behind him. They left the Great Hall, and he led her to the dungeons.

“Aren’t we going to eat?” Hermione squeaked.

“There is food in my rooms,” snapped Snape. “Didn’t you see who was present?”

“Not everyone,” admitted Hermione, inwardly admonishing herself for not being more alert.

“There were wizards I wouldn’t put past slipping potions into the food,” Snape growled.

“Veritaserum?” Hermione asked as a portal behind a statue of a large stone fish opened.

“Or worse,” said Snape bitterly, stepping into their new quarters.

A short table was loaded with plates and pots of food. It sat between a black velvet squishy couch and a stone fireplace. The walls were lined with books and two small windows overlooked the lake.

“I wish I would have gotten to say good-bye to my parents.” Hermione watched as the portal shrank and cut them off from the rest of the world.

“Your parents were told I would take you away. Somebody will deliver them here.”

“I understand my father gave you a terrible time.”

“Nothing surprising. Your rooms are in here,” he said, stepping to a portrait of a sleeping black kitten. He meowed at it and the image stretched and rose. “Emicoatus.”

Your rooms. Relief.

The kitten yawned, and its mouth grew broader. So broad in fact that it appeared to spread over the canvas. The wide grin stretched the stone frame and the color faded away. When the transformation was complete, it was an arched doorframe that revealed sleeping chambers.

“Who came up with this?” Hermione asked, astonished. She had done a research project on castle charms and had never come across anything like it.

“Helga Hufflepuff,” said Snape, stiffly. “Supposedly these were her quarters.”

The dark burgundy and gold she was accustomed had been replaced with a rich midnight blue and decorated with silver trim.

“A house-elf took it upon himself to make certain it met his specifications,” Snape said, quirking an eyebrow.

Dobby. Hermione winced. “I hope he wasn’t much bother.”

“I wouldn’t have considered as many details had he not been involved. It made a smoother transition.”

Hermione looked around the room. There were large windows overlooking the lake, and a small table and chair underneath. A heavy wardrobe was waiting for her clothing and there was a desk for her to work on. Then there was the bed. The structure was wrought iron with silver vines spread over it, twining up into the fabric of the canopy. The bedspread was velvet, and such a deep blue it was virtually black. Crookshanks was purring merrily in the center of it.

“Well, you’ve made yourself at home,” Hermione said to him.

Crookshanks yawned widely and dragged himself to his feet. A pool of long ginger hair remained where he was sleeping. He padded over and butted her hand with his head.

Hermione turned back to Snape, and he pointed out her lavatory. I was formed from a single piece of granite. The charmed ceiling looked like the sky. The bathtub was hollowed out stone. Water flowed from a diminutive waterfall coming out of the wall. Small ferns and wildflowers sprang up in little hollows of soil deposited in the rock. Her bathroom things were set up on rock shelves surrounding a mirror above a sculptured stone bowl. Celtic knot work flowed around the mirror and sink.

“Why aren’t you using it?”

“I don’t believe bathing should be an out-of-doors experience,” he sniffed imperiously.

Hermione looked at the openmouthed frog fixtures and wondered how they worked. A gentle knock echoed from the central chamber.

“I believe your parents are here.” Snape shuddered.

Snape walked to the parlor and opened the portal. Dumbledore walked through, and it closed.

“Would you like some food, Headmaster?” Hermione asked respectfully, wondering where her parents were.

“Thank you,” said Dumbledore walking over to a tea service Hermione had not noticed on a cart near one wall. He poured himself a cup of tea and filled his plate from food on the table. “Your parents will not be accompanying us. Your father disregarded the warning to abstain from food and drink.”

“What happened?” Hermione paled.

“Nothing significant,” Dumbledore assured them. “He ate a prototype. I assure you, he will be fine in a few days.”

“A Weasley Wizard Wheezes prototype?” Snape asked, his expression turning stony.

“Well, doesn’t all this food look delicious!” Dumbledore said cheerfully.

“What happened?” asked Hermione, her tone relieved. “I’m assuming it was just a shape-changing charm.”

“Shrinking,” said Dumbledore.

“How big is he?” Snape asked, reaching for a turkey leg. He plucked at it with his fingers.

“Mouse,” Dumbledore said.

Hermione nodded. “How long until it wears off?”

“A week,” Dumbledore said brightly. “Your mother was just saying he needed to take time off.”

“Where is he now?” Hermione asked.

“St. Gabriel’s in Paris. They’ll take good care of him,” Dumbledore reassured her.

“Mum left with him?” Hermione asked Dumbledore. He nodded as he drank his tea.

Hermione’s stomach lurched. She was married, and she scarcely got to see her parents. She stared at the table of food.

“Eat.” Snape frowned at her.

Hermione put meat and fruit on her plate.

“Well,” said Dumbledore, placing his teacup down and slapping his palms together. “This has been a dramatic day. I expect you’ll want to get some rest.” He stood up and Snape led him to the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Professor,” she replied. The portal shrunk behind him as he left. She was alone with Snape.

She pecked at her food and discovered how famished she was. She glanced up and realized Snape was cutting into a slab of vanilla frosted cake. It was decorated with tiny blue rosettes.

“What?” He asked sharply.

“It’s only—"she began hesitantly. “That’s my wedding cake.”

“Do you want to help cut it?” Snape asked frowning.

“No,” Hermione replied indignantly. “There’s a month left until end of term, what will happen then?”

“We’ll get our orders later,” said Snape shoving some of his cake onto her plate. “For the interim, we kept you apart from undesirables.”

“Mr. Ollivander is a Death Eater?” Hermione asked astonished.

“Gads, no,” Snape snorted. “He’s just a lecherous old man in need of a successor. Or two. Or a dozen.”

Hermione shivered.

“In his defense, he is taken with your test scores and has marked your progress at Hogwarts, as he does with all who wield his wands. However, he wouldn’t be able to provide the level of security that the Order could. Dumbledore also wanted to pair you with someone who wouldn’t… make demands.”

“How does he know anything about me?” Hermione asked, ignoring the last.

“You’re Muggle-born and up for a marriage contract. Your picture and school records were sent to prospective matches,” he said curtly.

Crookshanks padded into the room and jumped on the sofa between Snape and Hermione. Hermione stroked his coat, and he purred. He butted his flat orange face into Snape’s hand. Snape scratched him behind the ears.

“I have scrolls to grade,” Snape said firmly. Crookshanks purred louder and wriggled onto Snape’s lap.

“Is he always this distracting?” Snape asked glaring at the content cat.

“Don’t allow him onto your lap until after you’re at your writing desk,” answered Hermione. “Good night.”

Hermione stepped through the stone archway to her rooms. It shrank, and the gilded frame reappeared in the parlor. The black cat completed his yawn and stretched. It purred contentedly.

The orange cat had other ways of getting around the castle, as all pets did, but it seemed content to harass him.

Snape turned to look upon the table of food. The house-elves would have it cleared up by the morning and he had papers to grade.

He glanced back at the picture of the black cat on the stone wall. His bride was in that room. He shook his body to ward off chills.

He scratched the purring cat in his lap. One day at a time. They had no alternative. The world could depend on it.

The Morning After

Hermione woke in the morning and turned over to look at the underside of her canopy. She smelled food. Her stomach rumbled.

She pulled back the drapery of her bed and there was a breakfast service, complete with a rose lying on the napkin. Next to the rose was a pair of knitted socks with mismatched bells on.

“Shoo, Crookshanks,” Hermione said, moving his nose away from her plate. She gave a small piece of fish to the cat. He purred as he licked it.

After she finished eating, Hermione rose and dressed. After she had clasped her cloak, she left her bedroom.

She was received by a broad view of her husband’s arse. His voluminous outer-robes were draped over the back of the couch, and was on all fours looking under the coffee table.

She watched for a moment before she remembered herself.

“Do you need help?” she offered. He bumped his head on the bottom of the table and she started at the noise.

“I’ve lost my favorite pen,” Snape grumbled, rubbing his head.

“Don’t you use a quill?” asked Hermione.

“I break too many quills,” Snape snapped, thrusting his hand under the sofa. “This is a glass pen. Black. Twisted end.”

Crookshanks jumped on the sofa with something in his mouth.

“Oh,” said Snape, surprised. He took a glass pen from Crookshanks.

Hermione snorted. “He took it. Can’t resist anything in stick form. Trelawny’s always going about him stealing her knitting needles.”

“Don’t play with my pen,” Snape shook a finger at the cat in front of him. Crookshanks sniffed his finger and rubbed himself on it.

Hermione investigated her book bag, making sure she had enough quills of her own for the day. “Keep it secure from now on.”

“Naughty kitty,” Snape said, but continued scratching Crookshanks behind the ears. “The strangest thing occurred this morning…”

Hermione checked her wristwatch. Plenty of time to check in with Ron and Harry before classes.

“My breakfast was waiting near my bed,” Snape said. “Whomever put it there also gave me footwear.”

“Dobby.” Hermione shook her head. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Call me Severus when we’re not in class,” Snape instructed, as if it pained him. “We may be partners for some time… Hermione.”

“Well then,” said Hermione cautiously. “Until then… Severus.”

“Until then… Hermione.”

---

“He didn’t do a thing.” Hermione said irritated as she approached Ron and Harry at the long Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Ron let out a sigh of relief and she shot him a tired look. Harry grinned at her as they walked to Greenhouse Five for their class.

“It must be nice, having private quarters,” Harry said, making every effort to see the light side of things.

“It’s nice,” admitted Hermione, rummaging through her case for her dragon hide gloves. “I suspect Dobby oversaw the preparations himself. Do you know Snape has the quarters Helga Hufflepuff built?”

Ron was interested. “She was keen on enchantments and charms.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. She described her bedroom, complete with yawning cat.

“I wager that’s not even a tenth of it, Hermione,” said Ron excitedly. “I’d poke everything you could in there. You’ll find loads of hidden stuff.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Hermione grinned.

---

“I’m so sorry, Hermione.” Lavender looked as if she would burst into tears at lunch.

“For what?” Hermione asked, alarmed.

“Having to…” Lavender shuddered, glancing at the teachers table. Snape frowned at the Gryffindor table. “You know.”

“He isn’t evil,” answered Hermione. “Just… private. With few social skills.”

Parvati shrugged. “My grandparents’ marriage was set up. They learned to fancy each other.”

“Really?” Lavender asked, her face dismayed. “I couldn’t imagine.”

“Enough to have seven kids,” Parvati replied, reaching for a scone. “They’re still married, but it was a good match, with a real matchmaker that had known them their whole lives. This is different. Very different. People have a right to be concerned, Hermione.”

Hermione bit into her sandwich. She didn’t want grandchildren with Severus. Or children. That would imply they would have to-

“I hope he didn’t force himself on you,” Lavender said abruptly.

“He was a perfect gentleman,” answered Hermione hotly.

“Of course, he was,” said Parvati, trying to diffuse the situation. “No one should assume anything less.”

---

Severus Snape sat at the Head Table watching the Gryffindors eating their lunch. The 7th year girls seemed unusually animated. Hermione was dealing with the circumstance well, and it seemed as if Miss Patil was keeping things civilized.

Severus looked at his plate and pushed his food around. Once again, he was the object of scorn. The students believed he was a pervert and most of the faculty agreed.

“It will pass, Severus,” remarked a voice near him. Severus looked up into the glittering eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

“I know,” said Severus, taking a bite of his food.

“There’s a Quidditch game this evening,” Dumbledore smiled. “That will distract them.”

Severus snorted. He doubted it.

---

“Madam Snape, would you wait after class?”

Neville cast an anxious glance over his shoulder as he left. The class emptied, and Hermione found herself alone with her husband.

“There’s a Quidditch match tonight,” Severus reminded her, grading scrolls spread all over his desk. “You may sit in the staff box.”

“Pardon?” Hermione asked, surprised.

“Since Potter and Weasley will play, you might appreciate a more favorable view.” He explained in a tone that implied he thought she were simple-minded. His black eyes drilled into her. “The faculty box has additional capacity for family. You’re entitled to it.”

“Of course,” Hermione said hastily.

---

After that night’s meal Hermione changed into warmer clothing and checked herself in her mirror. She wrapped her hair back behind her head and adjusted a crimson scarf over it. She snatched her warmest cloak and stepped into the sitting room to join her husband.

Snape was sitting on his couch marking scrolls with observations in red ink. He appeared to make a lot of them, but to Hermione’s amazement, he didn’t seem happy about it. He glanced up as she walked into the room before scowling down at the scrolls again. “How cold so you think it will be?”

“Better safe than sorry,” admitted Hermione.

“Yes,” he sighed as he placed his pen down. He looked exhausted.

“What year?” Hermione asked, picking up a scroll.

“Sixth.” Severus rubbed his eyes. “Properties of cardiospermum.”

“Well, this one is terrible,” said Hermione wrinkling her nose as if the composition had insulted her.

“They should do it again, but twice as long,” Severus said irritated as he got up to grab his cloak.

Hermione shook her head. “Give them a project so they can see the reaction themselves.”

“Those are valuable components,” Severus pointed out, reaching for a black knitted hat.

“Have the best pair work on it and the rest of the class discuss and take notes.”

He appeared to consider.

---

“Where’s Hermione?” Lavender asked as she looked through the stands with a set of Muggle binoculars.

“With her husband.” Parvati rolled her eyes.

“She is!” Lavender squealed a scandalized confirmation as she spotted Hermione in the staff box. “I don’t know how she can stand it!”

“It could have been a lot worse,” said Parvati. She nodded toward the Slytherin stands where Goyle was glaring at the couple. “I doubt he would be as civil.”

Hermione watched as Ravenclaw and Gryffindor took the field. The wind had picked up and she and Severus were the only ones, aside from Dumbledore, that weren’t shivering.

They drew their cloaks around themselves. He reached under his cloak for a packet of crisps. He opened it and offered some to Hermione who took a few.

Severus looked up as the whistle sounded. Ravenclaw scored almost at once.

“Damn!” Hermione and Severus barked out in harmony. They looked at each other.

“I have a galleon on this game,” he confessed.

“You bet on Gryffindor?” Hermione asked incredulously. She saw McGonagall smirk.

“Professor Sprout insisted Ravenclaw would sweep the game,” grumbled Severus.

“So, you bet her a galleon Gryffindor would win?” Hermione asked as Ravenclaw scored again. She winced.

“Yes,” said Severus, irritated. “It appears she will get that galleon.”

---

“Wow, Harry…” Hermione trailed off.

“Where did they find her?” Ron asked blankly.

“She’s a second year,” replied Dean Thomas knowingly. “She wouldn’t even have even been there if Owens hadn’t gotten hurt in the last game. She’s too young, but they made an exception.”

“She’ll be a permanent team member next year,” said Seamus bleakly. “The end of an era.”

“At least we won’t be here to see it,” said Dean mournfully.

He was tearing apart a paper napkin and letting the pieces float to the floor. They were sitting among the food that had been stolen for the victory celebration. No one was eating.

“Are you OK, Hermione?” asked Neville under his breath as the other boys discussed how they could destroy Ravenclaw in the last match of the season. “I mean, about more than the game.”

“I’m fine,” answered Hermione giving him a small smile. “He’s very respectful.”

“That’s good,” nodded Neville, but he didn’t look like he believed it. “You can petition for a dissolution after six months. If you haven’t conceived, I mean.”

“Then I’m open for bids again,” replied Hermione with a frustrated sigh.

“True,” admitted Neville. “But most of us will be over age. At least a few are bound to get through.”

“Thank you, Neville,” Hermione said honestly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

---

“How was the pity party?” Severus smirked.

“Standard.” Hermione hung her cloak on a hook. “There was food and mourning, and then the team worked over new theories that won’t work.”

Severus rolled up the last scroll on the table and stuck it in the bag he packed for his classes.

Crookshanks jumped on the sofa and butted Severus with his head.

“Is he usually this demanding?” Severus asked as he rubbed the cat behind his ears.

“He normally has a common room full of people to pet him.” Hermione shrugged.

“You’ve become spoiled,” Severus informed Crookshanks, who only purred louder and walked all over his lap, covering his black clothing in orange fur.

Well, at least they’d keep each other occupied.

“Summer is starting soon. Do you plan on setting up an internship right away?” Severus asked.

“I wanted to take the summer off,” Hermione admitted. “It’s silly, but I thought travel would be good for me for a few months… come up with a career plan…” She turned red as if the thought embarrassed her. “Now all that sounds so… undecided.”

“Good,” Severus said, still stroking Crookshanks, who was settled in a large orange puddle on his lap. “No plans or contracts to break. Are you entering the Order?”

“Of course,” Hermione said sitting up straighter. Severus gave her a dry look she ignored.

“Will you be prepared to support missions when you are sworn in?” Severus asked her, looking up from Crookshanks. His eyes probed her.

“Where are we going?” she asked pointedly.

“Russia, for starters,” said Severus. “I have family there and it will serve as excellent cover. No one would suspect anything out of the ordinary.”

Hermione nodded. He was speaking to her as if she were already sworn in and it made her proud.

Wait… his family?

“I—I will do my absolute best,” she replied, struggling not to appear as off-balanced as she felt.

“My family is not in the Order. They know nothing other than I got married.” Severus was impressed had not shied away from him at their marriage ceremony, or in their household. She was an excellent performer and would make an outstanding spy. She had enough practice sneaking around with Potter.

She might even get through all this alive if she stopped throwing herself into the thick of things.

Order Meeting and Conformation of Plans

“Severus,” Molly Weasley asked him in a low, dangerous tone. “Are you insane?”

Severus lowered his eyebrows at her. He gripped a mug of hot cocoa in his hand. He glanced at Dumbledore, who was acting like he couldn’t hear them.

The table in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place was packed. Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George Weasley flanked one of the great oak benches. Remus Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Mrs. Longbottom sat on the opposite side. Severus was leaning in a doorway, disconnected from the others in more ways than one.

“Yes, Molly,” said Severus, crankily. “I’ve gone insane. I thought it would do for a nice change. A young bossy wife is just what I needed.”

Charlie snorted cocoa out his nose and Bill pounded him on the back.

“She’s never done field work, and she’s not initiated yet,” snapped Molly.

“Then why didn’t your idiot son think to put in a request ahead of time, so I wouldn’t have had to do this?” he barked back. “You’d think between the three of them, one could do math!”

“She’s suitable for the task, Molly,” replied Lupin calmly, reaching out for a tin of biscuits. “This is a stroke of luck for us all.”

“I have to agree,” Arthur looked at his wife. “Otherwise the Ministry will catch on and we’ll lose her. If they think it’s a farce we’re done for.”

Dumbledore, set his mug down thoughtfully. “Molly, they’re not skulking around searching for Voldemort. I must say, Miss Granger is the most suitable person for any research project.”

“Madam Snape, you mean,” remarked Molly, turning her sights at Severus.

“I am not having this discussion,” said Severus looking steadily at her. “I haven’t touched the girl, nor do I plan to.”

“It was arranged because it had to be,” said Arthur. “Unless you think Percy should break his engagement off. He very nearly did, you know.”

“No, of course not,” said Molly, flustered. “I just don’t think it’s right. She’s still in school.”

“At least we could keep her there.” Mrs. Longbottom scowled severely. The stuffed vulture on her hat bobbed in rhythm with her nodding. “Somebody else might have pulled her enrollment.”

“She’s so young,” answered Molly shaking her head.

“Think of it this way,” Arthur suggested as he put his arms around her. “When you were her age, you were a year away from establishing this fine family.” He grinned at his offspring and winked at Severus as he kissed his wife on the cheek.

“Heaven forbid,” declared Molly throwing a threatening look at Severus, who looked taken aback.

“I don’t make it a rule to molest my students,” Severus said stiffly.

“She won’t be your student for long,” remarked Fred, or George. “She’s turned into quite the—”

“George!” squeaked Molly, horrified. Mrs. Longbottom stared at him in disgust. Tonks began to laugh uncontrollably as did the other Weasleys. Dumbledore just rolled his eyes and sipped at his cocoa.

“That was rude,” said Bill laughing, his palm slapped to his brow.

“It’s true,” said George, or Fred annoyed. Kingsley shook his head in amazement that he had said what everybody else was not.

Severus waved his wand at the cocoa he spilled on his clothing.

“Sorry,” responded George, poking Fred, not sounding sorry at all.

---

“How did the meeting go?” Hermione asked. She was curled up on the couch, reading a book when he came in.

“Molly Weasley was unenthusiastic over the Russia plan,” said Severus, unwinding a black scarf from around his neck.

Hermione grimaced.

“We agreed that you are the most suitable individual for research positions, so she was overruled,” said Severus.

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, nodding at the brown paper-wrapped bundle, he pulled out of his robes.

“Potion ingredients,” said Severus gruffly. “For the Sixth years.”

The Trip and the Owl

Hermione woke late Saturday morning to the aroma of sausage. She shook her curls out and pulled her bed curtain back.

Her windows stood wide and light streamed into the bedroom. A full meal was resting on the lap table close to the bed. A scroll bound with a silver ribbon sat close to her breakfast.

Hermione levitated the service and Crookshanks sniffed at it before Hermione shooed him away. She had a drink of pumpkin juice and reached out for the scroll.

I am going to Hogsmeade today to restock supplies not available last night. Would you accompany me?

Severus

Hermione looked at a clock. Almost 10. She wondered when he planned on leaving. She tucked into her breakfast and went into her bathroom. Afterwards, her damp hair was twisted in a towel and she was picking her robes when a gentle tap at her door rang out.

“Emicoatus,” she called out. Severus walked into her rooms and stared at her.

Her cheeks were rosy pink from her bath and her eyes sparkling; the white terry cloth robe stopped mid-shin and her legs and feet bare. Severus remembered young Weasleys’ comment earlier, but thrust it from his memory.

“You received my scroll?” Severus asked.

“I’m not quite ready to leave,” answered Hermione nervously. “I need to get dressed.”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving so soon,” said Severus. “But it would be better.”

Crookshanks jumped off the bed and wound his way around Severus’ legs.

“I don’t think so,” Severus chided the cat. “You can stay here.”

Crookshanks seemed to understand. He stalked off, annoyed.

“I’ll be prepared shortly,” Hermione said.

Severus gave her a quick nod and walked out of her chambers.

---

“It’s not even a Hogsmeade weekend!” complained Ron.

“I know,” said Hermione, struggling not to smirk.

“Bring us back sweets,” suggested Harry.

“I will,” promised Hermione.

“And the new book on Bulgarian Defense Strategies,” added Ron, fishing in his robes for money.

“Never thought you’d ask me to pick up a book for you,” Hermione said pocketing his coins.

“Pygmy Puff Treats for Arnold!” Ginny added excitedly. Hermione nodded.

“We’ll need that book to win the cup from Ravenclaw,” said Ron determinedly.

“Just have a good time,” said Harry, looking at Ron doubtfully.

“I will.”

---

Hermione walked through the door Severus was holding open for her and gazed at the contents of Flourish and Blotts bookstore. She immediately picked up the book Ron had ordered her to get from a display.

“Why?” Severus asked. Hermione told him. He snorted. “It will take more than that to beat Ravenclaw.”

“What makes you say that?” Hermione asked huffilly.

“The Watkins girl had a grandfather that managed The Hornets,” said Severus.

“Let them think they have a chance.” shrugged Hermione. “Is that the replacement girl?”

“Yes,” said Severus picking up a volume of Russian history. He tucked it under his arm. “I looked into her family after the game.”

“Good day, Severus.” A smooth voice spoke behind them. Hermione and Severus turned to see Lucius Malfoy standing behind them. “Madam Snape, what a lovely surprise.”

“Lucius,” said Severus through gritted teeth.

Hermione drew in a breath.

“Congratulations on your wedding,” said Lucius silkily. “I would have congratulated you earlier had you remained at your own reception long enough to receive your guests. How like you Severus.”

“I thought a couple was allowed privacy on their wedding night,” Hermione snapped unexpectedly.

Both Severus and Lucius stared at Hermione with astonishment.

“I may have underestimated you,” said Lucius to Severus. “It only makes sense you would leave early. It was a school night, after all.”

Hermione silently burned with fury and she tasted copper as she bit her tongue.

“Arachne sprechen,” said Snape with a shake of his wand.

Lucius opened his mouth, but an avalanche of spiders came out of his mouth instead. They scrabbled over his waistcoat and down the front of his trousers. He jumped back in shock.

“Mind your tongue when you’re in the presence of a lady,” said Severus in a low dangerous tone. Lucius glared at the pair of them before he stalked off.

“What was that?” Hermione asked, completely delighted.

“It will wear off in three or four hours,” snorted Severus. “Until then, he won’t be able to speak.”

“That could be useful,” Hermione mused to herself, struggling to remember the movements he made with his wand when he uttered the incantation.

“Don’t even think about it,” Severus warned.

---

“Wow,” said Harry, impressed. He was resting in an armchair in the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Hermione were sitting on the carpet in front of the fire. There was an unusual combination of sweets spread in front of them on a small table.

“Do you remember how to do it?” Ron asked eagerly. He popped an Every-Flavor bean in his mouth and gagged.

“Yes, and I’m not teaching you, so don’t ask.” She handed Ron a Chocolate Frog and seized her new backpack. She reached into it, past where she should have stopped. “I picked up your book.”

“Where’d you get the bag?” Ron asked suddenly.

“Severus,” answered Hermione, giving Ron the Quidditch book he had asked for. “We got it at the bookshop—”

“Severus?” asked Ron, hotly. “Getting chummy, are we?”

“Ron,” warned Harry.

“It’s only a question,” Ron said sharply.

“Whether we want it or not, this is going to last a while,” replied Hermione as she rustled through her sack of candies. “We have to play nice, whether we want to or not.”

Ron was quiet.

“Are you going to petition for a dissolution?” Ron asked hopefully.

“No,” Hermione said.

Ron stared at her in shock.

“Oh, come on, Ron,” Hermione said exasperatedly. “What if I was put in the hands of a Death Eater? I’ll be in the Order!”

“One of us can appeal for you,” replied Ron, indicating any of the Gryffindor boys.

“I already discussed this with Neville. It means nothing,” said Hermione. “Percy pulled strings so I’d get an option this time, but there’s no evidence I will next time, or that someone horrid hasn’t already been chosen as a back-up. I’m not taking any chances.”

“She’s right, Ron,” Harry agreed reluctantly.

Ron pushed the unopened Chocolate Frog back on the table and retreated up the stairs to the Boys Dorm without saying good night.

“It’s tough for him,” remarked Harry apologetically.

“I know,” replied Hermione angrily. “But it’s not easy on me either.”

“I understand,” said Harry, getting up and putting an arm around her. “He’ll get over it.”

“Snape’s been generous,” said Hermione, drying tears away before they fell. “I have the coolest bathroom in the world.”

Harry grinned. “I’ll have to look at it someday. Just make certain he’s in class so I don’t get punished for strolling through a professors’ quarters.”

“Deal.” Hermione grinned.

---

When Hermione got back to her rooms, she found Severus asleep on the sofa under a mountain of scrolls and an orange mass of fur.

Hermione shook her head and whistled quietly. Crookshanks popped his head out of the pile and yawned.

“Bed, Crookshanks,” Hermione sighed.

As he stood up a few scrolls fluttered to the carpet. She winced, but Severus didn’t wake up. She waved her wand at him and the scrolls gathered themselves up and settled into a pile on the coffee table, then approached his rooms. Then she changed her mind. She had never seen the inside of his personal quarters and concluded she didn’t wish to challenge any wards he had set.

Hermione slipped into her room and picked up a blanket slung over a chair in one corner. She slid back into her drawing room and covered Severus with her blanket. He shifted as the blanket settled on him.

A lock of dark hair lay across his brow, his head tilted back. His expression softened in sleep and Hermione stopped to consider him.

He was her husband. It could have been much worse. She had enjoyed their day together. They had browsed bookstores and potion ingredient shops and stopped for curry. That part hadn’t been so bad.

She realized she was staring at him and tiptoed back into her rooms to go to bed with Crookshanks.

---

Hermione woke to a loud rapping at her window. She saw a huge eagle owl on her oversized ledge. He was resting on a massive package.

Hermione opened the window, looking at him puzzled.

“Are you lost, handsome boy?” she asked as she scratched him behind his ear tufts. He trilled as she reached out for the invoice:

To: Madam Snape
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Kethol’s Book of Experimental Fungi
Hillard’s Justification of Dark Arts in Modern Day
A Biography of Merlin
Ulf the Amazing Explains Advanced Rune Work
Percival’s Examination of Titanium
1 Magical Never-Loose Bookmark

Paid In Full: Snape Estate

Hermione paled as she stared at the pile of books in front of her. The fungi book alone was fifty galleons. The Biography of Merlin was ‘price upon request.’

She studied at the eagle owl, who was preening contentedly.

Did Severus buy these?” Hermione stared in confusion. The owl hooted and flew into her bedroom. He landed on a perch near the ceiling. “Well then,” she said, taken aback.

Hermione glanced at Crookshanks who was staring at the owl.

“Crookshanks?” Hermione wavered.

Crookshanks didn’t move. Hermione decided it was best to get help.

She went to Severus’ door and knocked. When she got no answer, she knocked more firmly.

Hermione was about to knock a third time when it opened.

Severus rubbed his face with the sleeve of his black bathrobe. “It’s early.”

“Explain that to the enormous owl in my bedroom,” answered Hermione.

“What?” asked Severus, instantly awake. Hermione moved out of his way and followed him into her rooms.

His eyes first settled on the open package on the dinner table. He picked up the invoice and groaned.

“There’s been a misunderstanding. I would never order anything this expensive!” Hermione said insistently.

“There’s been no error,” said Severus resignedly. His eyes roamed the bedroom and fell on the owl. “Good morning, Father.”

Sunday Morning

The owl on the perch swooped down dramatically and transformed into a tall, stocky wizard with silver and black hair. He was nude.

“You would have thought you would have at least invited us to the wedding,” the older man sniffed as he put on one of Hermione’s fuzzy dressing robes. “See what lengths I have to go, just to give my daughter-in-law her wedding present,” he sighed dramatically in a Russian accent.

Hermione studied the similarities between the men. They had the same nose, but where Severus had a finely boned face, his father had a wide expanse of brow and cheeks.

There were other parts she couldn’t compare, and it made her cheeks flame with the thought.

“How did you know?” Hermione asked as she reached to touch the cover of a volume. “About the books, I mean.”

“I followed you around the bookstore,” said Severus’ father proudly. “You did not want to put those down. It was like Severus when he was young.”

“Do you have any sense of decency?” squawkled Severus. “Stalking a poor girl around a book store—appearing naked in her bedchamber—”

“My daughter-in-law, I might add!” Severus’ father, pulled himself up to his full height, nearly as inch above Severus. “Whom I have never gotten to meet, although we share the same name!”

“Aren’t you being dramatic?” asked Severus, annoyed. He ripped off his bathrobe and handed it to his father who donned it, leaving Severus in black pajamas.

A small elf appeared in the doorway, balancing a plate of breakfast in one hand.

“Oh!” squeaked Dobby. “I will get breakfast for company. Pardons sirs and madam.” He scrambled backwards out of the room before Hermione could stop him.

“Dramatic?” Severus’ father asked, just as annoyed with his son. “You want to see dramatic, you should talk to—”

“Thank you so much,” said Hermione softly, interrupting them. “These are incredible gifts.” She was stroking the heavy leather cover of Merlin’s Biography.

“Well, at least one of you has manners,” said Severus’ father stubbornly.

Breakfast plates began appearing on the small table near the window and Hermione quickly scrambled for the books.

“I am Jacob Snape, head of the Snape family, and father to this… thing,” said Jacob Snape as he sat down. Hermione tried to stifle a giggle. “And you are Hermione Snape, formerly Granger. A top student at this school with promise to go far. An incident with a Time Turner made you above the age of consent before graduation, which allowed my son to marry you legally, if not ethically.” He narrowed his eyes at Severus. “My son petitioned for your custody as soon as you were available, and out of three candidates you chose him, although it bewilders us all.”

“He was the best choice,” said Hermione. “I knew him well.”

“It isn’t that you finally got married,” Jacob sighed at his son. “I know she was the intelligent choice, and it’s obvious you fancy each other.” Severus choked. “But did you have to petition for her? Your mother’s having fits! Was it too much to hope for, that you would elope like a normal person?”

Hermione reached out for a teapot and poured herself a cup. “It seemed to be our best choice to do things the proper way. We didn’t want them giving us any troubles over paperwork and channels and all that.”

“You must come visit us in our French estate during the summer,” said Jacob aside to Hermione. “I hear your parents are visiting the Delacours’. A fine old family.”

“I was planning on the Russian estate,” said Severus. “She’s never been to Russia.”

“Well,” said Jacob. “We’ll have to visit you, then.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” said Hermione, before Severus could say anything. “I hear it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Jacob confirmed. “Now about you, dear. We tried to look you up in the Wizarding registrars, but you didn’t seem to be there. Where is your family from?”

Hermione’s cheeks flamed and she looked at Severus. “London.”

“She’s Muggle-born,” said Severus flatly. “The law was only for Muggle-born witches.

“Oh,” said Jacob sitting back in his chair. “I see. Well. You’re top in your class?”

Hermione nodded silently, thinking it best to keep silent.

“Well, can’t blame a person for their parentage,” said Jacob, glancing at Severus. “Your Great Uncle Johann was a Mudblood, and his line turned out just fine. Wonderful man. Glorious with the children.” He smiled at Hermione. “I wish you could have met him.”

Hermione didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Well, at the very least,” Jacob said, rising to his feet. “Owl your mother. She’s driving me mad.”

“I will,” Severus said glumly.

“You’re not staying for breakfast?” Hermione asked as she stood.

“If I stay much longer, your new mother-in-law will come looking for me. I will not do that to Severus this early in the morning.” Jacob’s eyes twinkled.

“Thank Merlin,” Severus mumbled under his breath.

Jacob smirked before his form seemed to bunch up on itself and he transformed back into a large eagle owl. He hooted as he flapped out the window and into the clear blue sky.

---

Jacob Snape, in his animagus form, soared in the window of the den of his Oxford estate, and he transformed midair, his bare feet stumbling on the thick Oriental rug.

Flaming red silk robes lay on a polished mahogany chair near the window.

He took dark robes off a hook and slipped on carpet slippers before padding over to a gold rope in one corner of his den and pulling it.

He made his way over to his desk, saw his reflection in the polished ebony, and smiled in satisfaction.

He pulled a scroll out of the desk and began reading.

After he had read a few lines, a raven swooped in the open window. Jacob watched as it transformed into a beautiful, nude witch with long black hair and creamy pale skin. Jacob’s gaze swept over her as she reached for the red robes.

“Well?” she barked impatiently in a thick Russian accent, the sound of a native speaker rather than someone that had relocated. She pulled her robes on and slid into matching red slippers that had been left under the chair for her.

“You look as beautiful as the day I married you, Anastasia. Bravo!” Jacob smiled to himself as he casually went back to his scroll. It was almost too easy.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” She stormed over to the desk and snatched the scroll out of his hands. “And no work on the weekends.”

Jacob sighed resignedly as she pouted at him, and he folded his hands on the desk.

“They seem to be happy,” Jacob said as he watched her fumble with a few decorative hair baubles that had been lying on a small table tucked between bookshelves. “They have separate bedrooms for now. I think he is keeping it as professional as possible until she graduates.”

“How chivalrous!” Anastasia beamed proudly, coiling and pinning her hair around the crown of her head. “He always was a little gentleman.”

“I think you have a selective memory, my dear,” said Jacob, pointing his chin down and looking at her with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yes, yes,” she said dismissively, waving a hand at him. “What is the girl like?”

“Polite,” said Jacob. “Pretty. Has hair like your cousin Lillith.”

Anastasia snorted.

“She loved the books. Acted like I bestowed jewels on her.”

“Jewels of knowledge are more precious than jewels from the earth,” Anastasia said simply as she gave her hair a final pat and reached for a silver belt slung over the back of a chair.

“Indeed,” Jacob said, smiling at her. “She can head him off before his mouth goes into light speed. It’s a miracle if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Intelligent,” said Anastasia, impressed. “And quick, I can imagine. When do I get to meet the girl? What of her family?”

Jacob rubbed his forehead and waved his wand at a silver tea service on a cart across the room. It clattered over, and the pot started steaming.

“Should I sit down for this?” Anastasia asked, reaching for two cups.

“I don’t think it’s that serious in today’s age,” said Jacob unsteadily. “She’s a Mudblood.”

“That’s not polite talk nowadays, my dear,” Anastasia chided as she poured tea in both cups. “What of her parents? Are they living? How do they feel about this? What is their social position in the Muggle world?”

“I forgot to ask,” Jacob said, taking the cup of black tea from his wife. “I was shocked.”

“I can imagine,” said Anastasia, putting sugar and milk in her tea. “Considering Severus’ past.”

“Well, pure blood or not, they seem to have raised a clever, intelligent daughter,” said Jacob, sighing. “It’s not like we can change it now. Perhaps they’ll be tolerable people. They seem to mix well with our sort. They’re in France with the Delacour’s as we speak.”

“My great-great-grandmother always said she enjoyed spending time with Johan’s mother,” said Anastasia, shrugging and making a face.

“Perhaps it won’t be that bad,” said Jacob, nodding firmly.

---

“I apologize for my father,” Severus said stiffly as he reached for a plate of sausage. “He forgets his manners. Frequently.”

“It should have been expected,” said Hermione as she tossed a piece of sausage to Crookshanks.

“It was unacceptable,” said Severus, shaking his head. “What if you slept in the altogether?”

“Then we’re even,” she pointed out.

He snorted.

“I can’t believe your father did this,” Hermione said, changing the subject and wiping her fingers on a cloth napkin. She reached out for one of the more common books sitting on her bed.

She opened Percival’s Examination of Titanium and an envelope containing a bookmark fell out. It shimmered like a rainbow in the morning light. The tassel seemed to be woven from miniscule strands of silver. Sapphire chips set in the titanium shaped a decorative ‘H.’

“Good lord,” Hermione exclaimed and her fingers fluttered to her mouth.

“He tends to overdo things,” Severus said, embarrassed.

“I’ll owl your mother later and thank her,” said Hermione. “The card did say it was from the… estate?”

“That would be appropriate,” said Severus. “My mother enjoys being coddled.”

“I imagine most mothers-in-law do,” mused Hermione as she picked up the bookmark and examined it. She tucked the light piece of metal back into the book and turned back to the table.

She looked almost mournful as she began eating. Her eyes kept straying towards the books.

“Do you want to read them that badly?” Severus asked.

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione, flustered. “Normally I’d be opening them, but I’m afraid of damage.”

Severus shook his head at her and gave her an admonishing look. He pulled his wand out and waved it at the pile of books.

The book on titanium rose in the air and came to a gentle stop in front of Hermione. With a flick of Severus’ wrist, the book opened to page one.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Hermione murmured to herself as she began reading.

“Merlin only knows.” Severus shook his head at her and tucked into his breakfast.

Settling in on Sunday

Severus stormed into his rooms late Sunday afternoon to see Hermione reading, her legs folded up underneath her in his overstuffed chair near the window in their sitting room. He slapped a tray with a bacon sandwich and a goblet of pumpkin juice on it on a table near her. The pumpkin juice sloshed over the sides of the goblet and puddled on the tray.

Hermione squeaked in shock, but recovered enough to ask: “What’s this?”

“You didn’t have lunch,” Severus said stonily. “Your loss was commented on. Mr. Potter and Weasley kept murmuring to each other, and several young women in Gryffindor gave me nasty looks.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” Hermione said sheepishly. She was torn between intimidation and laughter. She placed her bookmark in her book and closed it.

“How would you know?” Severus asked with a sneer.

She placed the heavy tome on the little table. “I didn’t notice the time.”

Severus frowned. “The Order needs its members in top form, not running on empty.”

Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed. " If that was true, Mundungus Fletcher would never have been recruited!”

Severus tightened his jaw. “Fletcher will not be doing research and you will.”

Hermione sighed. It was an excuse, but if it was after lunch, she had been reading for hours without pause. He stood stiffly before her: back straight and arms wrapped across his chest. His black eyes drilled into her.

“Thank you,” said Hermione as a chill ran up her spine. " I’ll set people straight after I eat.”

---

“There she is!” shouted Ron to Harry as they rose high above the Quidditch pitch.

Harry called to Hermione, and she waved back from her seat in the stands.

Harry and Ron soared to her and clattered to a stop as their heavy boots landed on the old wooden stands.

“Where have you been?” Ron demanded as he pulled his headgear off.

“Where have I been?” Hermione asked, laughing. “In my rooms with a book. I went to the bookstore yesterday. Where else would I be?”

“Of course, you were,” Harry replied, nudging Ron in the side. “It’s Sunday. Where else would she be?”

“So, when do we get to see this place?” asked Ron, embarrassed.

“Whenever you want,” replied Hermione with a wide grin. “You should know where the entrance is, in any case.”

“We’ll change. We can go now,” Harry suggested.

“Perfect.” Hermione said with a sigh of relief.

After the boys were set to rights, they set out for the dungeon.

Hermione pointed out the stone fish and opened the portal to the rooms she shared with Severus.

Severus was sitting on the black sofa in front of the fireplace pouring over scrolls, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He gave them an obligatory sneer.

Harry and Ron took in the large picture window behind Severus, the soft chair and table beside the window, the picture with a purring, dozing cat on it. The single door leading out of the room.

“Err… hello, Professor,” said Harry, obviously wondering if this was a good idea.

Ron stayed quiet for a change. He was staring at the only door visible in the room.

Severus took his spectacles off and placed them in a wooden black box on the coffee table. “Come to check on her?”

“Something like that,” answered Harry sheepishly before Ron could open his mouth.

“I expect you’ll find everything in order,” Severus sniffed as he started marking a scroll in crimson ink.

Hermione shook her head at them. She stepped over to the purring cat and whispered the password that revealed the door to her bedroom.

“Extraordinary,” Ron looked both impressed and relieved.

Severus looked over at the backs of the trio and allowed himself smirk. They’d be occupied all afternoon and wouldn’t be able to get up to very much trouble. Babysitting them would no longer be such a laborious task. At least he wouldn’t have to follow them around and loom out of shadowy corners at appropriate moments anymore. Excellent.

“Blimey, Hermione! I’m coming over just to use the loo!” Harry’s voice came out of the bathroom.

Hermione shook her head as Ron shuffled over to investigate. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

“Wow,” said Ron, fascinated despite himself. “So am I!”

He tickled the frog faucet under the chin and a white liquid trickled from it.

“What’s that?” asked Harry with a startled expression on his face.

“What’s what?” Hermione asked as she stepped into the bathroom.

“Ron tickled the frog, and the water changed to… whatever this is,” Harry said pointing at the sink.

Hermione frowned and looked at the trickle of white fluid. She reached out to stick her hand in it, but Ron stopped her.

“You don’t know what it is!” Ron exclaimed.

Hermione sighed, annoyed, and walked back into her bedroom. She came back with a glass. She collected the substance and spoke the phrase carved on top of the faucet to stop it.

“We have access to a Potions Master,” she replied before turning away to walk into the sitting room.

“Severus?”

He turned and saw Hermione holding a container of white fluid. Ron and Harry were astonished and horrified she had dared call him by his first name.

“We were in the bathroom, and when Ron tickled the frog, this came out instead of water,” Hermione explained. “Can you tell us what it is?”

“What made you tickle the frog?” Severus asked as he took the glass from Hermione and swirled the liquid around in it.

Before they could answer him, he sniffed it, and then gave them a look of disappointment. He took a sip from the glass.

Ron, Hermione and Harry gasped as Severus swished the liquid around his mouth before swallowing.

“Are you insane?” Ron bellowed before he thought better of it.

“Did your mother tell you to say that?” Severus asked sharply.

“What?” Ron asked, confused.

“Nothing,” said Severus, waving a hand at him. “It’s milk.” He sat the glass on the table with the scrolls.

“Milk?” asked Harry in a puzzled tone. “For if you fancy a drink in the middle of the night?”

Hermione snorted, and the men looked at her. To her dismay, Severus included.

“Milk is good for your skin,” Hermione explained. “I wager it’s pumped in from the kitchens. I doubt Helga Hufflepuff could pop over to a Wizarding shop for face cream.”

“Girl stuff,” Ron responded, shaking his head.

Harry and Severus nodded in agreement.

“Oh, really!” Hermione spluttered before she strode back to her bathroom to figure out how to turn the milk off and the water back on.

Severus looked at Ron.

Ron looked at Severus.

Harry looked at Ron pleadingly.

“I know this must be difficult for you,” said Severus before Ron could say or do anything.

“What?” Ron asked, his face bewildered.

Harry put a hand on Ron’s shoulder.

“It would have been less troublesome if you were of age, or if any of your brothers were available to petition for her,” Severus continued carefully.

“What?” asked Ron again.

Severus gave him a trying look. “Your brother, Percy, could have appealed for her. However, it meant losing his own intended and seemed suspicious.”

“This didn’t seem odd?” Harry asked, interrupting what would have no doubt been a sarcastic remark from Ron.

“Unconventional, yes, but not so remarkable,” Severus intoned. “Adequate enough to keep her safe, at least.”

“What do you mean ‘not remarkable?’” Ron asked, easing off.

“Powerful wizards can lead much longer lives than the general Wizarding population,” explained Severus patiently.

“What does that have to do with professors pairing off with students?” Ron interrupted with fire in his eyes.

“Picture you’re a hundred and thirty years old, Weasley,” Severus snapped. “You come across a charming witch forty years your junior with a familiar last name. In fact, all the ladies have familiar last names because you taught each one that passed through Hogwarts. For the last century.”

Ron’s jaw dropped. “Are the Hogwarts professors married?”

“A few,” Severus said stiffly. “It’s difficult to see people as adults when you got to know them as children. Binns has a widow.”

“Binns?” Ron asked incredulously. “Are you still a widow if your husband’s a ghost?”

“You live in misery if your husbands a ghost,” Severus snapped at him.

Ron stood up straighter, surprised. He bumped into Harry as Severus loomed over him.

“Lucinda loved that daft dry dishrag, for some strange reason, and she wilted when he passed away,” Severus hissed.

No one saw Hermione standing in the doorway of her bedroom, listening to everything.

“He wasn’t gone,” Severus said in a deep tone. “He was still here. Bound to the school. Correspondence was dictated to house-elves and delivered by owl. She was given a report of her husbands’ condition in the very envelope as his death certificate.”

Ron paled.

“That’s horrible,” said Harry, a stricken expression on his face.

“That’s not very terrible, Potter,” said Severus silkily. “She spends her summers here, never again able to touch him. He gets to watch her age before him, knowing full well she will not meet with him when she moves on.”

“How do you know she won’t become a ghost?” Hermione interrupted from the doorway, breaking the spell.

“What?” Severus asked, annoyed he’d been interrupted.

“A ghost is someone who feels strong emotional bonds to something that keeps them here,” replied Hermione, sounding like a textbook. “Everybody knows that Binns became a ghost because it was his last term before the O.W.L.s and he was zealous about the peculiarities of the Centurion Tribunal that year.”

“What’s your point?” asked Severus loudly, his spooky demeanor vanished and annoyance in its stead.

Hermione folded her arms. He would not torment her friends for recreation.

Harry and Ron both turned and sat on the sofa as if this was something they’d been waiting for, for their entire lives.

Severus looked flustered.

“My point is he’s a ghost, and she has obvious links to him,” replied Hermione testily. “If offered the opportunity, she would spend eternity with him. He’s not connected to the school. Moaning Myrtle used to carry on all over the place before the Ministry got her to stop making trouble and Dumbledore offered her a home.”

“Fine then,” Severus snapped. “Binns can go for a country holiday. Nevertheless, his widow still has to have to have the opportunity to convert and you can’t anticipate that.” He stood up straighter and folded his arms.

“Yes, you can, and she would be an obvious choice for a ghost,” Hermione said insistently.

As Hermione and Severus bickered, Harry’s and Ron’s heads looked back and forth, as if they were following an especially enjoyable tennis match.

“No, you can’t, and there are no plausible arguments to being converted into a ghost. Also, being a ghost is not an enjoyable situation,” said Severus, knitting his eyebrows at her. “It would be absurd for her to choose it, even if given the opportunity.”

“Lucinda would prefer to remain,” Hermione insisted. “And there is logic to it. We’re still finding out about the process.”

“We? " barked Severus.

“Binns began the project my sixth year,” Hermione said smugly, crossing her arms. “We examine the new ghosts that converted in the last year over Easter weekend. The suggestion originated from Sir Nicholas.”

“You should have expected something like that,” Ron interjected to Severus from the sofa.

Severus sharply turned his head to glare at Ron.

“She doesn’t start anything if she doesn’t have a hidden play.” Ron shrugged.

Harry nodded his head in agreement.

Severus looked at her flabbergasted. “Where’s your data?”

“Binns has it in his office,” Hermione answered smoothly. “You can see it if you like.”

Severus looked at Hermione and saw defiance flashing in her eyes.

She knew she was right, and she wanted him to admit, as her professor, that she was more experienced than him about something.

Her chin was even tilted up, set determinedly.

Infuriating know-it-all.

“I would.”

Shame Minerva said I can’t take points from her anymore. It would be amusing to see smoke come out her ears, and she might even strike me. I’ve heard stories from Parkinson—

His body reacted unexpectedly.

Hermione watched as Severus swirled his robes around himself like a giant overblown bat. He glared at her.

‘Annoying git,’ thought Hermione as he retreated to his own rooms. She grinned at his bedchamber door as it shut.

“That was amazing, Hermione,” Harry whispered so Snape didn’t hear him.

Ron just cocked an eyebrow.

Hermione shrugged. “He can’t dock me points now. It’s a conflict of interest. Come on; let’s see what else we can find in my room.”

---

Severus closed the door to his room and looked down at his trousers.

“Oh, bloody hell!” he muttered as he unfastened his buttons.

At least he could get this over with quickly.

---

“If you smack it on the head, you might get pumpkin juice,” Harry suggested, laughing as Hermione and Ron looked at the stone frog crouched by the sink in Hermione’s bathroom.

“Don’t be stupid, Harry,” Ron muttered as he poked the stone frog with his wand.

It burped bubbles at him.

“Well, that was interesting,” Hermione remarked as she popped a bubble floating by with her wand. “So, there’s a way to integrate soap in the tap water? I wonder how to trigger it?”

“No idea,” answered Ron, shrugging. His expression suddenly lit up. “I have a great idea!”

“What?” asked Harry, who was studying the ivy growing around Hermione’s bathing pool.

“Let’s get Colin!” Ron said as if everyone else in the room was simple.

“Creevey?” Hermione asked, confused.

“We need his camera!” Ron replied, doing a dance in his excitement.

Hermione wished she knew what he was so excited about.

“His pictures move,” Ron began patiently.

“So, things will expose themselves,” Hermione finished. “Excellent, Ron.”

“Thank you,” he preened.

---

Severus left his rooms in a much more relaxed state to find Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Colin Creevey entering his quarters.

Colin was carrying the camera bag the Gryffindors finally talked him into, rather than carrying his camera around his neck everywhere. Severus said nothing but gave Hermione a strange look.

As the boys entered Hermione’s rooms, she stayed back to explain to Severus what they were doing.

“If the Ministry asks anyone, we have a valid marriage,” Severus said flatly. “What other Slytherin Head of House would let a pack of Gryffindors trot through his private apartments?”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, turning pale. “This is a terrible violation of your privacy—”

“I knew full well I couldn’t escape your friends.”

“I can’t believe you never explored in there,” said Hermione, desperately changing the subject.

“I believe it was immediately evident how useless I am when dissolving charms. I never thought of a camera. It was an ingenious solution, I will admit,” he grumbled.

“It was Ron’s idea,” confessed Hermione.

“I want to see your conclusions,” Severus said, interested instead of just patronizing.

“Of course. We’ll let you know,” replied Hermione. “I’ll never tell them. They’re bad enough at the best of times.”

---

Colin ran down the rows of wooden benches in the Great Hall to where Hermione, Ron, and Harry were eating their lunch a few days after the photographs were taken. A large brown envelope was waving in his hands.

“Did you get the film developed?” asked Hermione, making room for him beside her.

“Just finished,” said Colin, grinning and cracking the seal on the envelope.

“Are those the photos you’ve been waiting for?” Seamus asked, nodding at the envelope.

“Yea,” answered Ron, reaching out for a picture.

“Wow,” said Harry looking over Ron’s shoulder.

The picture was a close-up of the frog faucet. Bubbles rose out of its mouth. Occasionally, one of its feet came up to scratch the side of its head.

“What do you think that means?” Harry asked.

“Don’t know,” answered Ron, shrugging.

Hermione was staring at a photograph of her bed when she started.

“What?” Ginny Weasley asked.

The boys were still looking fixedly at the frog, wondering how it worked. Hermione quietly slipped the picture to Ginny, who choked.

“I wouldn’t let Ron see that,” Ginny replied, giggling.

The ivy on Hermione’s bed unwound and trailed over the bed from four corners. She could only assume they were restraints.

“Not certain I’d let Snape see it either,” she added as she handed it back to Hermione.

Hermione laughed and reached out for the other pictures in case there was anything else sensitive showing.

“Hey!” Ron protested as Hermione took a photograph from him.

“We have Charms next,” Hermione said primly. “Lunch is over. We can go over these later.”

---

Severus walked down the stone hallway to his rooms.

Hermione had classes for the rest of the afternoon, and he had scrolls from the fourth years to grade. His life was a dreary, never-ending cycle of homework, grading, and experiments.

He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding when he got in his quarters. He breathed the fresh air entering from the open windows. The house-elves must have aired the dungeons today.

Fresh yellow flowers grew out of a black ceramic bowl on the coffee table.

That house-elf was fond of the girl.

There were new flower boxes with red flowers outside the windows in the sitting room. Long tendrils of silver and green ivy snaked out of mounted vessels on either side.

The place looked comfortable. Besides, the plants could be harvested for potions ingredients. He would have to remember to thank the elf later. Hermione would appreciate the gesture.

Not that it mattered to him, of course.

Severus walked over to the open window and took in a great inhalation of air. He could smell the vapor rising from the lake in the sunny weather.

The scrolls could wait. Today was a perfect day to take in recreation.

---

Hermione walked to her quarters to read before dinner. The library was her usual choice, but her new books were waiting for her in the little bookshelf Dobby had constructed near her bed.

“Should we bring you anything to eat later?” Ron had teased, knowing she’d never get to the Great Hall if she stuck her nose in a book.

“I’m near the kitchens now,” Hermione reminded him. “I’ll grab a snack later.”

The boys had reluctantly said their farewells to her, and she started her descent to the quarters she shared.

Hermione opened the entrance to their quarters to observe light pouring in through the windows, including through the entrance to her bedroom, which should have not been open, and the door to Severus’ bedroom, which she had never seen open before.

Hermione drew her wand and went to Severus’ door first.

She peered into his room to look at a large bed with a black bedspread and a mahogany headboard. There was a short table near the bed with an oil lamp on it. A small wooden chest with a lock lay at the foot of the bed.

A window was in the stone wall to her left. It was hanging open, deep black curtains pulled back and thin, white under curtains moving with the wind.

The wall to the right had a door for the restroom.

Hermione approached her own rooms carefully. As she stepped into them, she met Crookshanks, who meowed loudly.

“Hello?” she heard Severus call out.

“Oh, hello,” called out Hermione, feeling silly.

Hermione entered her quarters to find Severus perched on the oversized ledge outside her window.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked tentatively. Her best guess was that moss growing on the castle was a useful potions ingredient. Her worst was that he’d been Imperiused and was about to drop to his death.

“Fishing,” said Severus, snapping his line out over the water without turning to look at her.

Hermione peered out the window and saw a generous ledge.

“There’s room for another.” He smirked.

“I’ll pass,” replied Hermione, turning green as she peered down several hundred feet to the lake. The line and reel were obviously enchanted.

Severus sniffed. There was a tug on his line and centered his concentration on it.

Hermione turned to see Dobby entering her quarters.

“Will Madam want her supper with the professor?” Dobby asked politely.

“Yes.” Hermione sighed. She had planned to spend her evening reading, but if dinner had been prepared, there was no reason to not take advantage of the situation. “The table is fine, Dobby. Thank you.”

Hermione watched as Dobby summoned rice, seaweed, sesame seeds and numerous small trays. He raised the cover off a bowl of crab and chopped.

“You know, Dobby,” Hermione said as she watched him prepare ingredients, “you don’t need to wait on us. We’re capable of going to the Hall for meals.”

“It is Dobby’s pleasure, Madam!” Dobby beamed. “And it is no trouble since Madam and Professor sleep so near to the kitchens!”

Hermione wanted to point out that the kitchens were at least two levels apart, but instead she inquired: “What are you making for us?”

“Sushi, if I can get a decent sized tuna,” Severus said from the window, struggling with his line.

“There’s no tuna in this lake,” Hermione said automatically.

“There is if Dumbledore decides there will be,” said Severus with a smirk as she watched him snap his wand toward the lake.

She’d been naïve to think he’d reel it in by hand when he could use magic.

Dobby chanted under his breath as the fish glided through the air.

The fish was cleaned, cut, prepared, and chilled before it reached its destination. The scraps were whisked into a metal pot as the delicate strips of fish fell onto the rice dobby had packed into small rectangles.

They waited as Dobby chopped vegetables, seafood and different wraps. The outcome was a spectrum of food, placed precisely on colorful trays across the table. Small black lacquer trays of pickled ginger, wasabi, and soy sauce divided the table, and chopsticks lay near the black six-sided plates Dobby had set out.

Dobby cleared away his containers and bowed before he left the room.

“I picked up the prints from Colin,” Hermione said as fished out the big brown envelope from her book bag.

“Very good,” said Snape as he sat and placed his napkin in his lap.

Hermione sat across from him and handed over the envelope. He opened it and peered at the photographs as he stretched out his chopsticks and filled up his plate.

Hermione watched as he flipped through the photographs. He froze and his eyes grew larger.

“What?” Hermione asked, praying he wasn’t looking at the photo of the bed.

“Has your bathroom mirror ever talked to you?” Severus asked sharply.

“No! Why?” Hermione frowned at him.

Severus went to his feet and pulled his wand out.

Hermione reached up and grabbed the picture from him. It was a close-up of her towel rack. In the background, an elderly, white-haired witch peered out from the mirror.

She winked.

Greetings and Meetings

Hermione started at the photograph in front of her.

Severus, glowered. He stood up and strode to the bathroom. Hermione followed him.

He stared at the mirror, his fingers grasping the edge of the stonework.

“Revelio,” he ordered.

“That’s not polite,” Hermione pointed out furrowing her eyebrows at him.

Severus glared at her.

“It’s a mirror,” Severus said calmly, as if explaining something basic to a child.

“I know it’s a mirror,” answered Hermione annoyed. “But it’s been here longer than either of us, and if someone tromped into my house demanding things, I’d tell it where to go.”

“It is nice to see one of you has manners,” remarked a gentle-faced elderly witch from the mirror surface. She was done up in antique garments of delicate blue. Gold runes were inscribed into the white fur that snaked its way around the edge of her tall hat.

Severus jumped back so quickly he slipped and fell over backwards. He sat down hard and struck his head on the opposite wall.

“Is he tickle-brained?” the witch asked warily.

“I beg your pardon!” Snape was irritated.

“I’m very sorry, Madam,” Hermione said. “We just discovered you live here, and he’s…” she cast about for a phrase.

“Paranoid?” provided the witch.

“That works,” replied Hermione, helping Severus to his feet.

“I suppose it would be a shock,” remarked the witch kindly. “The last time I spoke to a soul was the Year of our Lord 1742. Then Lyons expired, and the chamber was vacant. He was a handsome fellow. Sang in the morning. Nice bottom.”

“It’s 1997,” said Hermione hesitantly, avoiding that last part.

“I see,” replied the witch, clearly shaken. “I cannot understand why I was left behind for so long. I gave thought into the apartments. They would be beneficial for generations.”

“You’re Helga Hufflepuff?” asked Hermione, breathless.

Severus narrowed his eyes.

“Why, certainly, dear,” answered Helga, tenderly. “I am sorry I did not introduce myself directly.”

“How did you come to be in a common mirror?” barked Severus as he drew his wand. “Why would Headmaster Lyons never tell anyone?”

“I commissioned a portrait of myself before my death,” said Helga, disregarding the Potions Professor. “Later, I stowed away the portrait within the mirror. I don’t understand why Lyons never told anyone. Perhaps he thought I would be moved if anyone knew.”

“How could you put a portrait into a mirror?” asked Hermione with a perplexed expression.

“Mirrors used to be made of mercury and glass,” said Severus in an ordinary voice as he lowered his wand. “What a clever trick.”

“Thank you, good sir!” Exclaimed Helga sincerely, nodding her head; not insulted at all that someone hundreds of years her junior had called her brilliant enchantment a ‘clever trick.’

“Mercury and glass?” Hermione said questioningly.

“When designing an item that changes into a teleportation portal, a mix of mercury and glass is employed to create a fundamental component in the anointing potion,” Severus said as if recalling a textbook. “Since the portrait would be hidden, not actually teleported anywhere, all the glass would have to do is become a point of stasis.”

“What?” asked Hermione, a confused look on her face.

“I set up a pocket of space, threw the portrait in and locked it up,” said Helga. “He is just attempting to impress you.”

“I am not,” said Severus defensively.

“Certainly, you are,” answered Helga knowingly.

Severus was suddenly glad he had sought sanctuary in the opposite rooms rather than waking up to this every morning.

Hermione giggled.

“You live here presently, dear?” Helga asked Hermione.

“Yes ma’am,” replied Hermione. She hurriedly explained the legislation established by the Ministry and why a pupil was dwelling in the quarters of a faculty member before Helga started to ask. Hermione had a hunch she was a lady that was something to be frightened of when provoked.

Severus was quickly reminded of Molly Weasley.

“I beg your pardon?!” she squawked loudly. “Impertinent fool-born lout!” she thundered. “Leave it to a man to come up with such a beef-witted idea! Let me talk to the headmaster! We’ll have that fool expunged from the records and strip him of rank!”

Hermione made a mental reminder to convince Helga to teach her medieval slang and find out what ranks meant.

“Don’t tell me,” Helga blustered on. “He’s a descendent of that flap-mouthed Salazar. Never did have anything to rattle between his ears. I suspect his progeny would turn out no better.”

Hermione and Severus were both quiet. Their faces went slack of expression and they glanced at each other.

“Something terrible has happened,” said Helga. Her eyes skittered from Severus to Hermione. She looked frightened. “Tell me.”

Severus reached up and removed the mirror. Helga was jostled about and caught the inside of the frame to keep her balance.

“I’m not eating my supper in a toilet,” he declared. “If I have to explain unpleasant circumstances, I’m not going to be hungry.”

They left the bathroom together and sat down for their meal. Severus propped the mirror on a chair so they could talk to Helga comfortably.

“Has Hogwarts degraded to a situation where they cannot manage to cook its meat?” Helga asked, alarmed.

Hermione quickly explained sushi to her and assured her it was delicious. Helga then saw the photographs and Hermione had to dredge up what she remembered about the history of photography. She was thankful Colin tended to be long winded about details.

“Well,” answered Helga, attempting to understand some of the technological developments.

Severus decided the easiest place to begin history was after Lyons had departed. Voldemort had been such a powerful part of their modern history he elected to give her a lesson covering the last two centuries. Hermione often went to a bookshelf to consult when their memories failed, or Helga had a question they couldn’t answer.

Dinner was over. Dobby returned to remove their dishes and Severus stopped him as he was leaving.

“Dobby, I would appreciate it if you could place a hook in a distinguished area in the drawing room for Madam Hufflepuffs’ mirror,” said Severus.

“Very well, sir,” said Dobby cheerfully. “Is there anything else you would be wanting sir and madam?”

“Some trifle?” suggested Severus.

“If it isn’t any trouble,” blurted Hermione hastily, shooting Severus an admonishing glance.

“Dessert and one hook,” repeated Dobby. “I will return shortly sir and madams.”

“Thank you, Dobby,” said Severus. “Where were we?”

“Grindelwald,” answered Hermione.

Severus continued through their dessert and by the time Dobby poured tea Severus had started talking about Tom Riddle and Voldemort. By the time he had finished Helga was shaking her head in misery.

“I never expected anyone would grant that fool a measure of thought past his death,” Helga said worriedly. Severus stayed uncomfortably quiet. Helga didn’t appear to notice. “He had an entire chamber with a basilisk?”

“I assumed each founder had their own private place—” Hermione began.

“They did! You’re in mine!” Helga spluttered. “Rowena and Godric both slept with their students and had their rooms in the towers!”

“There are secret chambers in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers?” Hermione asked excitedly.

“Not anymore. They were cleaned out for extra space centuries ago,” Helga snorted. “They were supposed to be practical getaways, not a great bloody shrine to ourselves complete with inconvenient monster.”

“I hear there’s a giant statue of Rowena Ravenclaw in their common room.” Hermione hazarded.

“They put that in after she died,” Helga waved her off. “It brings me joy to know Godric never thought of it. He would have enchanted it to swagger and wink at the female students. Shocking man.”

Severus looked alarmed.

“Thank you for taking the opportunity to speak with me,” Helga smiled kindly. “I would like to see my new place. I would think you are ready to retire, and I have much to think about.”

Hermione thanked Helga for showing herself to them and bid her and Severus a good night before Severus carried the mirror into his drawing room. The stone arch to Hermione’s rooms shrunk into the form of the purring cat once again.

A brilliant gold gilded frame lay fastened to the stone wall near the cat with a hook driven in the center. Red velvet curtains draped from either side so the mirror could be hidden if desired. The elf did seem to take things to the extreme.

Severus hung the mirror and Helga smiled at him. “You both insist this is a union of convenience. I think there is something more.”

“I don’t know what you’re going on about,” said Severus, clearly caught off guard.

“You admire her mind,” Helga said plainly. “What else could one desire in a partner?”

“Who says I want a partner?” asked Severus scowling.

“I didn’t say you wanted one,” snorted Helga. “You need one.”

“I do not need one,” he sniffed imperiously. “I am quite capable of taking charge of myself.”

“That’s what they all say,” snorted Helga.

Severus threw his hands in the air and stormed into his rooms. He banged the door behind him.

“Impertinent whelp,” Helga puffed.

---

Hermione stared at the bottom of her canopy. The moon light poured in her window and filled the room with pale blue light.

Hermione couldn’t help but think how romantic it was. This was immediately followed with the understanding that the trifle went right to her head. She giggled to herself.

As she fell asleep, she wondered what it would be like if he kissed her again.

---

“Best of luck to you, my dear,” said Professor Flitwick to Hermione as he shook her hand vigorously.

End-of-year had crept up on them. Hermione smiled at her tiny professor before giving him a hug. When they broke apart Flitwick burst into tears.

“There, there,” responded Professor Hooch, turning to pat him on the back.

“They grow up so fast,” Flitwick said to no one in particular as he rubbed his face with a huge blue handkerchief. A Ravenclaw girl offered him a hug and he bawled harder.

“Wouldn’t be the same if Flitwick didn’t have a breakdown at least once,” McGonagall remarked to Hermione.

“He does this every year?” asked Hermione, giggling.

“Without fail,” said Severus. “There’s just the closing speech and the end-of-year feast left. Then we leave.”

“What’s the hurry?” Hermione asked.

“Initiations tonight,” Severus said candidly. “Order of the Phoenix.”

“What?” Hermione squeaked. “So soon?”

“The sooner the better with you lot,” Severus snorted.

“Thank you for your confidence,” replied Hermione dryly.

---

A thunderclap sounded over number twelve Grimmauld Place. Hermione, Harry, Ron and Neville watched as parchment, with their names inscribed in their own blood, drifted into a goblet full of golden flames.

“Well,” said Dumbledore smiling. “Who’s up for biscuits?”

“I’m in,” replied George Weasley.

“Good suggestion,” responded Fred Weasley.

“I’ll go put a kettle on,” suggested Arthur Weasley, kissing his wife on the shoulder.

“Congratulations,” said Remus Lupin, gazing at the trio through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Thanks,” replied Hermione. Ron and Harry were already working over some plans with Fred and George.

“I understand you’ve already been handed an assignment,” said Remus smiling.

“Russia,” replied Hermione. Ron and Harry looked up.

“You’re leaving?” Ron demanded. His eyes darted to Severus.

“It’s a research job,” Hermione said happily.

“You’ll get along fine,” Remus said, picking up a teacup with a few biscuits perched on the saucer from Arthur. “I’m sure the trip will be very educational. You’re supposed to talk to the Mystic Brotherhood. Very exclusive lot.”

“Rasputin was an active member of the Mystic Brotherhood,” Ron replied, settling back. “They’re presumed to have one of the greatest libraries in existence.”

“I wonder if I’ll get a look at it,” mused Hermione.

“Wish you well, Hermione,” declared Harry, seeming to be happy and worried all at once.

“Thanks,” said Hermione, feeling a ball tighten in her chest.

“I’m terribly proud of you, Neville,” declared Mrs. Longbottom, beaming.

Neville smiled timidly at the room, amazed he was even invited to take part in the Order.

“So, what is the Mystic Brotherhood?” asked Harry.

“Private fraternity,” said Fred. “Really elite. They only take a few scholars at a time, and only from a handful of bloodlines.”

“Devoted to the preservation and procurement of knowledge,” added Neville. “Bunch of leftover monks.”

“But very important,” said Dumbledore, sitting down across from them and dipping his biscuit in his tea. He turned towards Severus who was sitting quietly to his right. “Will you be visiting your family estate, Severus?”

“I was planning to—” started Severus. Ron started shooting daggers with his eyes. “There are twenty-three rooms in the estate, Ronald. I promise you the young lady will have more privacy than entirely needed.”

Ron turned crimson.

“Really, Ron,” Molly spoke to her son, exasperated. “Subterfuge is the only good thing to come out of this ridiculous farce.”

“So that’s the way it’s going to be then?” Ron said stiffly.

“It’s the way it has to be,” answered Hermione exasperated.

“If you’ll forgive me, I’ve lost my appetite,” said Ron, shoving himself away from the table and standing up.

“Come on, Ron,” said Harry, pleadingly.

“I know it’s the way things have to be,” answered Ron sadly. “I didn’t say I had to like it.” Ron stepped into the adjoining room. They heard him use Floo powder to leave.

“Where’d Ron go?” asked Arthur, sitting down next to Neville.

“Didn’t take Hermione’s assignment well,” said Remus.

“Ah,” said Arthur. “Well, he’ll be occupied soon enough. It’ll distract him.”

“We’ll keep him busy,” responded George, rubbing his hands together over the large parchment spread out in front of him.

“Just keep an eye on him,” said Molly.

---

“How did it go?” Helga asked eagerly as Hermione and Severus walked back into their apartments through the fireplace.

“She’s an active member of the Order,” said Severus grumpily.

“You don’t need to sound so excited,” Helga remarked. “You might burst with enthusiasm.”

“It’s an extremely delicate appointment,” Severus said, stepping over to the tea service and pouring himself a cup.

“It’s a research assignment,” answered Hermione.

“It’s too close to the Dark Lord for my taste,” said Severus bitterly. He turned into his rooms and came back out with a flask. He poured a healthy dollop of whisky into his tea.

“Why? Do you know something no one else does?” Hermione asked as she took one of her own.

“Just a suspicion. Nothing more,” he waved her off.

She looked at him warily.

“I may be able to get you a few books from the Brotherhood to study, even if I can’t get you access to their library,” said Severus taking a deep drink from his cup.

Hermione downed her cup. “Thank you.”

“I think you’ll be pleased with the Russian Estate,” said Severus thoughtfully. “It has a small reference library of its own. Although the books are common for the area, you may find them interesting.”

“I’m certain I’ll find something to catch my interest when I’m not working,” she reassured him.

“I’m certain you shall,” said Severus.

---

Hermione glowered. They both decided to read for an hour before bed and she had decided a toddy or two wouldn’t be amiss.

He had helped her to her bedroom and got her pajamas out for her. Hermione flushed at the prospect of undressing in front of him, but he had left without a word.

He had snorted at her state! The nerve!

Hermione couldn’t get it out of her mind.

“It’s only the toddy,” Hermione muttered to herself.

Crookshanks meowed questioningly and butted his head against Hermione’s left hand. She scratched him absentmindedly. He purred and curled up against her to sleep.

Hermione found herself slipping in and out of sleep. Severus’ face swam in front of her in and out of dream.

She slipped a hand down under the waistband of her underthings. She sighed softly.

Hermione imagined Severus placing the gentle kiss he had given her on their wedding day somewhere else.

She twisted under the covers and cried out her climax. She instantly clamped her hand to her mouth before she remembered she didn’t share a bedroom with two other girls. She snuggled deeper under her covers.

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Hermione giggled to herself. “He’s my husband, after all.”

She laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all.

The Snape Estate

When Hermione woke up, pain lanced through her head.

“Ow,” she whimpered.

Crookshanks rose and leaped to the floor. When he poked his head through the bed curtains to enter her room, a splinter of daylight broke through and lay across Hermione’s eyes.

“Merlin’s beard!” Hermione groaned.

“Good morning,” a low, sarcastic voice rumbled. She moaned in reply and prayed he didn’t look in on her and find her in such a state.

Severus pulled back her curtain and shook his head as she pulled her pillow over her face.

“You can’t drink this buried under there,” he said, gesturing to the goblet he carried in one hand.

“I could conjure a long straw,” her muffled voice drifted to him.

“I have doubts about you conjuring anything,” said Severus in a grim tone.

Hermione ventured her fuzzy head out of her bedding. “I feel like hell.”

“Stay away from alcohol,” said Severus, handing her a potion. “We leave this afternoon.”

“So quickly?” Hermione said, taken by surprise.

“We are carrying on under the façade of a honeymoon,” Severus said. He sounded embarrassed. “I’m expected to appear eager.”

“Shouldn’t I appear eager as well?” Hermione asked.

“I’m not certain you should appear enthusiastic,” Severus swallowed as she pushed off her covers. “Some might find it open to question.”

“Not after they talk to Lucius Malfoy,” Hermione snorted as she hung her feet over the side of her bed and hopped onto cold stone.

“That’s true,” said Severus thoughtfully. “Nevertheless, best not overdo it.”

She went across her room in a sleeveless white cotton shift. The daylight filtered through it as she moved by the window.

‘Gods, when did I become so old?’ Severus asked himself.

“How long will we be gone?” Hermione asked, looking at herself in a Muggle mirror and making a face.

“Most of the summer,” said Severus.

“I see,” said Hermione, stepping over to a bookshelf. Severus knew she was trying to look like she was considering the novels in front of her. He realized she was disappointed to be leaving so soon.

“I’m sorry,” said Severus. “This is a large responsibility.”

“I believe you’d been through more at my age,” replied Hermione hoarsely.

“Some people could travel through numerous lifetimes to go through as much as I have,” snorted Severus. “I would never hold it as an object lesson of good decision making.”

“I suppose not,” she answered turning around to him wiping a few tears away.

It was the spring sun. It was the look of her unruly hair in the morning. It was that terrible old-fashioned nightgown. It was the tears rolling down her cheeks, breaking the front she had been maintaining for years.

He hugged her awkwardly.

Hermione needed it, and was shocked he was offering, albeit mostly arms and elbows, but she was grateful. He smelled like sandalwood and soap. His black high buttoned vest was soft under her cheek.

Severus indulged himself by breathing in the smell of her hair. He caressed the smooth skin of her shoulders under his fingers. He watched as a loose curl winded its way straight up to ultimately settle on the end of his nose.

There was nothing improper with an innocent hug, Severus reasoned with himself. He caused her suffering and was encouraging her. She was no longer his pupil and technically his partner, a hug was within logic. Encouraged, even.

She relaxed in his arms and a part of him below the belt formed an opinion of its own. He stepped back and swept his cloak around himself. “I apologize for the suddenness of this, but it would be optimal if you were prepared by three o’clock.”

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding. A few moments were all the human contact he could stand, she knew. Hermione tried not to be bothered and pulled herself together. “I can be prepared earlier if required.”

“How soon?” Severus asked.

Hermione glanced at the clock on her wall. “Noon.”

“Noon then.”

“Good,” replied Hermione.

Severus spun and walked out of her rooms. The door shrunk behind him.

Hermione breathed in the smell of sandalwood. He must have just put it on because the scent lingered on her nightdress. She held up the white cotton and breathed in. Her body responded. She breathed in deeper and had the impulse to lie down. Perhaps the influences of the alcohol hadn’t worn off.

He’d never notice if she was a few additional minutes.

---

‘That was wrong,’ Severus chided himself as he opened his trousers in his rooms. ‘Shouldn’t have let it go that far.’

He lay on his bed and slid his palm over his under things. He wrapped his hand around himself.

In his fantasy Hermione had pulled her nightgown over her head and disposed of it. She then pointed a wand at him and rendered him in an identical state. Then she had led him to the bed and let him pound her senseless.

Severus gasped. He his body writhed in pleasure as he squeezed his eyes shut.

When he finished he lay, trembling on the bed.

He was overjoyed the Russian estate was big. They would both be busy and he’d be able to shake her out of his head.

Severus opened the door from his private chambers to see Hermione waiting for him in the drawing room. Her trunk lay at her feet and Crookshanks lay resting in a cage stacked on top of it.

Severus dragged his trunk out of his bedroom and went on to the fireplace.

“We need to use Floo powder to get to the Portkey Station,” Severus said.

“All right,” answered Hermione as she got to feet. She had never heard of a Portkey Station before, but she had never traveled internationally using wizarding means before.

“Don’t forget to keep a diary,” Helga said from the wall. “I want to hear all about it. And don’t forget to take pictures.”

“We won’t,” Hermione promised. “And Professor Dumbledore said he will have you brought to his office while we’re gone. You can catch up with the other Headmasters and not be so lonely.”

“Wonderful,” answered Helga smiling silkily. “I’ll have a word with Lyons.”

“Portkey Station,” Severus said throwing dust into the fireplace and being eternally grateful he wouldn’t be in Hogwarts for The Great Portrait War of 98’. Green fire leapt up and Severus and Hermione dragged their trunks into them.

---

“Welcome, my darlings,” a sing song voice called out as Hermione and Severus arrived at his family estate. They were in a large ballroom with an enormous dance floor that rippled like water when it was walked on.

Hermione saw a young, dark-haired witch striding towards her and Severus. She first assumed Severus had a younger sister, but was soon surprised.

“Hello, Mother,” said Severus wearily. He kissed her cheek as she embraced him. Hermione stared. “What a surprise to see you here.”

“You do not need to sound so excited,” said Anastasia Snape with a frown.

“They gave us the wrong portkey in Stockholm and we ended up somewhere in the Congo.” Hermione offered.

“You poor dears,” Anastasia said with a laugh. “I bet it was exciting!”

“It was!” Hermione reassured her happily. The snacks in the Congo had been excellent.

Anastasia waved her wand and the dust and grime from travelling pulled away from them and disappeared. “We were wondering why you were taking so long.”

“Thank you,” said Hermione, feeling less grimy. “I’m pleased to meet you, Madam Snape.” She bobbed.

“Call me either Mother or Anastasia,” Severus’ mother smiled.

“I tried to control her,” a deep voice floated in from a set of large double doors. Jacob Snape reclined in the doorframe. “But she insisted on coming right away.”

“I’m sure you did your best,” Severus sighed. He waved his wand at their trunks and they vanished. So, did Crookshanks’ cage, although he remained. He meowed and stretched.

“Hello, little kitty,” Anastasia said as he padded over to sniff her. To Hermione’s surprise he flopped at Anastasias feet and rolled on her dress hem purring happily.

“He’s usually not so rude,” Hermione said furrowing her eyebrows at him.

“I was in the herb garden this afternoon and got into the catnip,” Anastasia admitted.

“His name is Crookshanks.”

“Hello, Crookshanks,” said Anastasia scratching him behind his ears. Crookshanks meowed his adoration and twisted over on his back. “Oh, he’s adorable!”

“Father, we’re starving. I’d like to visit the kitchens.” Severus sounded exhausted.

“The dining room has been readied,” Anastasia said, beaming.

“Mother, there was no reason to go to all that trouble,” Severus said embarrassedly.

Hermione wondered how fancy the dining room was. It didn’t take her long to find out.

A twenty foot 17th century dining table stretched the length of the room. Four chairs were set up at the same end of the table. A turkey lay steaming, kept warm by a preservation spell. Stuffed mushrooms decorated the plate around it and each plate had a bowl of spinach and beet salad. Fresh bread lay cooling on wooden trenchers nearby.

“This is incredible!” Hermione said stunned. The walls were made of live trees growing close together. Their branches stretched out above them, shading the table from the illusion of a full moon overhead. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“At least one of you remembered your manners,” Anastasia said, looking annoyed at her son. “We’re just happy to see Severus settling down.”

Severus pulled a chair out for Hermione and sat next to her.

“Bless the food, Severus,” Anastasia smiled at him.

Hermione folded her hands as Severus bowed his head and chanted a prayer.

Severus helped Hermione dress her plate while Jacob carved the turkey. The floor was carpeted with thick grass, and she slipped off her shoes and buried her toes in it.

“This is wonderful,” said Hermione sampling the food.

“We’re glad you like it,” said Jacob. He turned to his son. “Will you be staying all season?”

“I was planning on it,” said Severus.

“You should come visit us in France for a while,” insisted Anastasia. “Have you ever been?”

“Yes,” said Hermione. “It’s why Severus chose Russia. I had never been here before.”

“There are so many things to see,” said Anastasia. “No doubt you’ll be busy all season.”

“No doubt,” Hermione said smiling at her mother-in-law.

---

Hermione looked at Severus across the large expanse of bed, her arms crossed. A blue robe was securely belted around her waist and her white nightgown poked out from behind it.

“I didn’t know they would stay the night,” Severus mumbled.

“You couldn’t possibly think they’d be making off for the Portkey Station after what we went through,” Hermione said crossly. “They could end up on the moon. I still don’t see why you should sleep on the floor. There’s enough room up here.”

“What if I snore?” he asked her.

“I’ve seen you sleep and I’ve never heard you snore.”

“Fine,” Severus said glaring at her. “But if I snore, you are to kick me to the floor.”

“I’ll have no trouble doing that,” Hermione snorted.

“I’m taking a proper bath,” Severus announced.

“Fine,” Hermione said. “I’ll be in bed by the time you’re out.”

His body reacted to her words.

‘She wasn’t talking to you,’ he thought angrily.

After his bath Severus walked back into his bedchamber, his hair still wet. He had satisfied himself twice before he got out. He was taking no chances with his nocturnal revelations.

There was a candle burning by the bed and he saw Crookshanks, his light red fur standing out on the dark coverlet. On the side he planned to rest on. At this point he had become used to the idea of going to bed on a soft mattress.

“Shoo, kitty,” Severus whispered as he took his robe off. Crookshanks got up and put himself firmly in the center of the bed.

Then he fixed Severus with a glare that made Severus’ cheeks hot.

“I’m not that bad,” Severus whispered, glancing at the mass of hair poking out of the covers on the side opposite to him.

Crookshanks purred and shut his eyes. Severus shook his head and got in the bed with the cat between him and his wife. The feline knew what was for the best.

Chapter

Hermione woke up to the scent of soap and sandalwood. She cracked her eyes open to see Crookshanks bathing himself in the bedroom window. A heavy arm was slung over her, pinning her to the bed.

The hand nearest to her eyes had small black hairs across the back of it, growing thicker as it moved up his arm.

Hermione tried to separate herself by slipping away and out of the bed. When she began to move, Severus groaned in his sleep and drew her closer, spooning her. His morning erection was pressing into her bottom.

‘This is not right,’ Hermione thought guiltily.

He stirred and one of his hands cupped one of her breasts. Hermione found herself shifting along with him and her breathing grew ragged.

Severus’ eyes fluttered open. He was holding Hermione in a most improper manner, not to mention his parts appeared to have taken charge in his sleep and had ideas of their own. He looked at her. Her eyes stayed shut. Probably dreaming of Weasley or another boy her age. She would be a prize no matter who she chose.

He gently relaxed his grip and fell over to his side of the bed to regain his senses.

Hermione crossed her eyes in frustration. She tried to control her breathing. She turned around. His eyes remained shut and his breathing was heavy as he lay on his back.

She sighed and got up. Maybe a long relaxing bath would calm her. She grabbed her blue robe and went to the bathroom.

Severus cracked an eyelid as he listened to the door click shut.

He throbbed and loosened the waistband of his pajamas. He slipped his hand underneath. He heard the water of the bath running in the walls and knew she wouldn’t be back soon.

In his vision she bucked against him, demanding and confident. A few quick jerks and it was over.

This was depraved. He tore his pajamas off and waved his wand to clean himself before he went to the cupboard to dress for the day.

---

As Hermione walked back in the bedroom Severus was shirtless and washing his face in a basin on a stand near one of the walls. In the morning light, she saw her room more clearly. Dark grey brocade wallpaper ran over the walls, only interrupted by pewter fixtures and accents.

“I believe Mother and Father will be departing after breakfast,” Severus said, wiping his face with a small towel and reaching for a shirt without looking at her.

“What will we do for the rest of the day?” Hermione asked, swallowing hard and fastening the cloak with a pewter broach.

“Mystic Brotherhood,” Severus said as he buttoned his cuffs. “They will meet with us here. I hope it’s the contact I think they’ll use. It’ll make things far less complicated.”

“They have a sister organization, don’t they?” Hermione asked. “I found it difficult to find anything on them.”

“The Amazons, but I’d hardly call the relationship warm. There are feminine and masculine forces in some types of magic. They are unpredictable if handled wrong. The last time the Amazons and the Brotherhood were at conflict millions of Muggles were wiped out.”

“Merlin’s beard,” said Hermione, shocked.

“To stave off any stray daughters from performing some pact of vengeance, the libraries for both groups were warded,” Severus said calmly, realizing how disheartened she was. “And Polyjuice won’t do the job, it was tried. The consequences were—a mess.”

“I see,” Hermione said, wide-eyed.

“The Amazons library and their historical records go back further and are more detailed than other repositories. You will be going there.”

“Excellent.”

---

Anastasia Snape downed the contents of a little blue bottle halfway through her morning meal and made a bitter face. A bead on the edge of the bottle shimmered silvery green in the sunshine falling gently through the forest branches in the dining room.

“It’s a youth serum Severus came up with while he was in school.” Anastasia beamed. “He was such a clever little boy.”

“Really, Mother,” Severus said embarrassed.

“I just wanted him to create something sensible,” Anastasia insisted.

Hermione caught Jacob roll his eyes before his face disappeared behind the Russian language newspaper he was thumbing through.

Hermione couldn’t make out the headline, but it looked like Viktor Krum’s partner, Tristan had given birth to twins. Tears were openly streaming down his grinning face as he held one of the tiny girls. Tristan looked tired, but she smiled at the camera, holding the other girl.

Anastasia noticed Hermione’s gaze.

“You are a fan of Bulgaria?” Anastasia asked.

“She’s a friend of Krum’s,” Snape said taking a sip of his tea.

“Viktor Krum is your friend?” Jacob’s interest was suddenly piqued.

“We met during the tri-wizard tournament, and went to the ball together.” Hermione explained.

“You’re that girl?” Anastasia said amazed and glancing at Severus.

“Mother,” Severus said, not troubling to disguise his disappointment. “You’ve been reading those rags again.”

“Well,” said Anastasia huffing. “One can’t help but hear international news.”

“That nasty little story made international news?” Hermione fumed. “I’m going to get that woman back if it takes me my whole life.”

Severus and his mother looked impressed. Jacob looked delighted.

Hermione said, remembered herself. “What does the potion do?”

“If you consume them religiously, you can slow down aging,” Anastasia replied.

“How does it do that?” Hermione asked.

“It tricks the body into thinking it’s still developing. It builds and replenishes new cells at an advanced rate,” Severus said. “The original aged cells slough off, so you don’t get lumpy with buildup.”

“That was a bug that took a while to work out,” added Jacob, his shoulders shaking with laughter behind his paper.

“If you were a gentleman, you’d never speak of it again,” said Anastasia hotly.

“I’m glad I’m no gentleman,” answered Jacob, from behind his paper. Then he belched.

“I cannot eat with a pig,” said Anastasia throwing her napkin. She rose and stalked off.

“Nosy thing, isn’t she?” suggested Jacob, dropping his paper when he was sure Anastasia was gone.

“I’m sure she would never mean any harm,” Hermione said.

“Indeed,” said Jacob from behind his paper, making Hermione wonder.

---

Severus and Hermione saw his parents off after lunch. Hermione watched curiously as Jacob packed up the flying carpet.

“Have you ever seen one before?” he asked, looking at her expression.

“No,” Hermione replied.

“You should get Severus to take you on an aerial tour with the estate carpet,” Jacob suggested. “He was never good on a broom, but he can manage a carpet.”

“I’ll mention it to him,” replied Hermione, glancing back at the house and making out the shadows of Severus and Anastasia arguing in the kitchen window.

“Don’t let the Snape temperament put you off,” added Jacob tying down a substantial red trunk. “We’re a vocal group.”

“I knew that,” replied Hermione chuckling.

“Suppose you did,” answered Jacob smiling at her. “You seem to be a strong young woman, you’ll manage fine. Don’t let him walk over you.”

“I don’t plan on it,” said Hermione, straightening herself.

“No one ever plans on it,” declared Jacob with an amused expression on his face.

Suddenly there was a loud noise from the house.

“Jacob!” Anastasia shrieked out the now open kitchen window. It was more of an order than a request.

“See what I mean,” said Jacob finishing his knot and standing up. “Yes, my dear?” Jacob yelled back. Hermione noticed he made no movement to get closer to the house.

“Tell Severus he must at least come visit us for a week in France during his time off,” Anastasia demanded.

“I’m certain we can manage a week,” answered Hermione under her breath before something reflecting the annoyed expression on Jacob’s face came out of his mouth.

“They’re on their honeymoon,” suggested Jacob exasperatedly. “They want time alone, darling.”

“They can disentangle themselves for a week,” said Anastasia firmly. “We have bedrooms in France as well.”

“Mother!” Hermione heard Severus’ scandalized voice behind her in the kitchen. Anastasia waved a hand dismissively at him.

“We can stop on our way back home,” yelled Hermione.

Anastasia looked smug as she went back to the kitchen, closing the shutters as she pulled her head back in.

After Severus and Hermione finally waved his parents off, they went back into the kitchens.

“They should be here soon,” said Severus. He stoked a fire in the heavy iron stove and set the small table for tea.

“Can I help?” asked Hermione.

“The elves made cakes,” said Severus absentmindedly. “They should be in the cube.”

Hermione tried not to flinch at the recognition of house-elves. She knew they must be present.

Hermione glanced at the crystal cube on the counter. It was frosted, and she could see something in it, although she couldn’t guess how to open it. Severus looked over her shoulder when he couldn’t figure out what was taking her so long.

“One of the brightest students at Hogwarts can’t figure out how to open a preservation chamber?” Severus snorted behind her.

Hermione wasn’t a student at Hogwarts. They shared the same name. They were partners in the Order. She decided to take Jacobs advice.

She brought her arm back sharply and it sunk into Severus’ gut.

His chin smacked the top of her head firmly as he doubled over.

They both tumbled to the floor.

“Well it’s nice to see Albus has chosen competent agents,” boomed a deep, Russian-accented voice behind them. “How are you, dear cousin?”

“Hello, Pieter,” said Severus pulling himself up from the floor and offering Hermione a hand, although he was still rubbing his tender abdomen. “Good to see you.”

Pieter reached out to her other hand, and the men pulled her to her feet.

Pieter was a black-haired, tall wizard with a long black beard. He had it tucked into his gold belt. His deep burgundy robes were composed of heavy wool. Hermione could see the tips of black curly-toed boots peeking out from under his hem. His white teeth glinted ferally at her from the depths of his facial hair. One of his glittering blue eyes winked at her. “Where are Uncle Jacob and Auntie Stacy?”

“You just missed them,” said Severus sternly. “If you wanted to see them you should have been here last night. If they’d seen you today, they’d know something was up and you know how mother is. You cut it too close.”

“I’d say I was taking an afternoon off and taking you fishing,” Pieter said in thickly accented English, pouring himself a cup of tea. “They would accept that.”

“In your dress robes. Nothing suspicious about that,” snorted Severus.

Pieter grinned at Hermione. “Do you fish, young lady?”

“Depends on where it’s from,” replied Hermione thinking of the perch outside her window.

“You do not like the ledge at Hogwarts?” boomed Pieter laughing heartily. “It does have the habit of putting one off, but there are splendid fish in the lake.”

“The place here is more conventional,” said Severus, putting a cake in front of Hermione. “Father keeps it stocked.”

" I would very much enjoy it,” said Hermione politely.

Pieter said beamed at Hermione. “She is quick, and she likes to fish. Could such a vision be more perfect?” He reached out and put a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, his blue eyes never leaving hers.

No one had ever spoken to Hermione like that. No one had ever seen her like that. She blushed.

“So how is Anna?” boomed Severus in a voice louder than he would have liked.

“Wonderful,” said Pieter smiling broadly. “We are expecting a child again!”

“Great God man, get a hobby!” exclaimed Severus. “What is it now, three?”

“This is the fourth,” said Pieter proudly. “I hope this one is a boy. Then we will have two of each.”

“Congratulations,” said Hermione. “When will the baby be here?”

“Any time now,” Pieter admitted. “Anna says it has moved in the proper way.”

“Should you be away from home?” asked Hermione.

“It is fine,” said Pieter. “I have a coin enchanted to pulsate when it is time. I can apparate to her in the blink of an eye.”

“Should be used to it by now,” said Severus smirking into his cup of tea.

“When are you going to find a woman good enough for you, Severus?” asked Pieter. “Your house should be full of little shrieking voices. You would be amazed at how relaxing it is.”

“I have an entire school full of children,” said Severus, glancing at Hermione. “That’s relaxing enough.”

“You never know,” Pieter said his eyes twinkling. “After your mission is over, you may decide not to worry about an annulment.”

“Ridiculous.” Severus suddenly reached out to refresh his teacup. Hermione took a bite of her cake. They avoided each other’s gaze like their lives depended on it.

Pieter inwardly shook his head. “You will dine with us tonight! I will bring the documents Albus wants you to look over. Anna would love to see you.”

“Excellent,” replied Hermione before Severus could say no. “We’ll look forward to it.”

Severus shook his head into his cup as he drew a sip. Pieter was plotting something. It made him uneasy.

Chapter

“I don’t think this is necessary,” Hermione said, annoyed.

Severus was holding out green winter robes and a brown fur cloak.

“You’ll catch a chill in that,” said Severus nodding at the brown and white striped dress she was wearing. It had no sleeves. It showed her knees. The neckline even revealed that fascinating little freckle just over her-

“They’re used to clothing like this, Hermione,” said Severus grasping at straws.

“Oh,” replied Hermione remembering Pieter’s attention. “I didn’t think of that.”

She moved behind her dressing screen. It reminded Hermione of something out of the Victorian era. It was pale yellow with pink roses painted on it. Anastasia insisted on the six-paneled obstruction because she said the area was too masculine and needed lightening up. Hermione slipped out of the dress her mother had given her and stepped into the robes Severus had presented her with.

They were light although thick and made of a soft material. She rubbed the material between her fingers and made a mental note to ask Severus about it later.

“Better?” asked Hermione. The garments had form to them, but had a high collar and the skirt fluttered to her feet.

“Very much,” said Severus, holding out her cloak. She took it from him and caught it with a clasp in the shape of a silver teardrop.

“Thank you,” answered Hermione. “Are we Apparating?”

“No,” said Severus. “Floo.” He pointed his wand at the fireplace and flames leaped in the hearth. He walked over to the fireplace and tossed in a handful of loose brown powder. The flames turned green and crackled.

-

Anna jumped as the flames rose in the hearth behind her. She smiled as her husband’s cousin stepped through the flames and gave her a smile. She always liked it when he smiled; he was so handsome but managed it so seldom it was a tiny thrill when he did.

Severus saw Anna set a hand on her swollen stomach and wince. He went to her and held her arm.

“Is it time?” he exclaimed, his voice high.

Anna scowled at him. She had large brown eyes and black straight hair pulled back into a large bun. Kohl darkened her eyes and her lips rouged. Her light brown skin shone in the firelight.

“You are as bad as Pieter,” Anna said in barely understandable English to Hermione’s ear. “I have done this before, you remember.” She whacked him with the wooden spoon she was holding.

The kitchen was small. Small brown tiles covered the walls floor and ceiling. Large wooden cabinets and bins lay above and below the counter that lined the walls. A large cast iron wood burning stove creaked and bubbling noises came from it. An assortment of pots rested on the top of it.

“Good,” Anna said, reaching out to take Hermione’s hand and pull her closer. “You brought someone useful, for a change. Can you stir a cauldron?”

“Yes,” said Hermione receiving Anna’s friendly hug.

“Good, then you can stir a pot,” said Anna handing Hermione a wooden spoon, steering her to the stove and taking Hermione’s cloak from her. “Severus, Pieter is into the vodka. Stop him before he sings.”

“Does he?” Hermione laughed stirring a pot of deep red soup. Severus hurried out of the room.

“The children think it is amusing and encourage him,” Anna said sitting on a wooden chair near the small wooden table. “They sound like werewolves in pain.”

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione chuckling.

“I would not normally mind,” said Anna admittedly. “But I have been of short temper as of late.”

“I can imagine,” said Hermione nodding at Anna’s midsection.

“This will be the last,” said Anna firmly. “Any more and he will have his own army.” She paused. “Thank you for helping.”

“Not a problem,” Hermione said handing Anna a biscuit from a basket hanging from a hook.

“Sometimes I get so busy I forget to eat,” Anna admitted.

“Really?” Hermione asked, not surprised at all.

Anna smiled. She liked this girl. She would be good for Severus.

---

Severus shook his head as he walked into Pieter’s den. He was doing the can-can by himself as he browsed a bookshelf with a small tumbler in one hand.

“SEV-EH-UH-EH-UH-EH-UH-EH-UH!” shrieked a Tarzan yell from a corner.

“Well goodness, young man,” said Severus amused as he scooped up his young cousin. “How terrifying you are!”

“I am five,” the small child said in perfect English. “And my name is Misha Titov.”

“Your English is very good, Misha Titov,” said Severus. “What did you get for your birthday this year?”

“A training broom,” he began. Severus winced. “Books about the stars, Quidditch, and an Atlas.”

“Exciting,” said Severus, his eyebrows raised.

“Smatrets, Misha!” said a voice from a corner. “Bulgaria!” Misha squirmed to be put down.

“Severus!” boomed Pieter. Anna was right; he needed no more vodka. “How kind of you to join us for dinner!”

Severus embraced his cousin.

“Your little ones are growing,” remarked Severus.

“They are five, three and two,” said Pieter proudly looking at the dark-haired children piled in a corner pouring over an Atlas. “Misha, Nadja and Tatiana. So far only Misha speaks English, but the little ones are picking it up.”

“I’m sorry to be a burden,” said Severus embarrassedly.

“They would learn eventually,” said Pieter dismissively. “We spoke English when you were young. There was no reason for you to learn.”

“You’re not much older than me,” said Severus annoyed, taking Pieter’s glass away from him and taking a drink.

“Half a decade,” said Pieter walking over to a counter with bottles lines up on it. “Anna is almost two decades younger than me. Seventeen years.”

“I keep forgetting,” said Severus walking over to the bottles to monitor Pieter.

“It is better to wed them young,” said Pieter with a gleam in his eye as he poured his cousin a drink. “They put up with more mischief. Then again, you know that, don’t you Severus?”

“That was not why I wed Miss Granger, and you know it.”

“So, she is ‘Miss Granger’ now,” Pieter said laughed. “You are in denial, Severus.”

---

Hermione sat at the dining room table between Nadja and Severus. Pieter led a prayer and they began to eat.

Nadja was set on telling Hermione the events of the day and wasn’t one bit put off that Hermione didn’t speak a word of Russian.

Tatiana stared at Hermione with wide green eyes and played with her spoon most of the meal. She was fascinated with Hermione’s hair.

For desert, little fruitcakes were served by Misha, before he sat to play the grand piano.

Pieter was tired and content after dinner, sinking into a velvet couch with a pleasant smile on his face. Hermione held the glass of vodka in front of her, sipping infrequently. Anna put the girls to bed and told them she was going to bed herself.

Talk of Quidditch turned to fishing, and Misha retired to bed before long.

“Did you bring the documents?” asked Severus when it was just the three of them.

“Yes, yes,” said Pieter waving a hand at him. “There are many, though. It will take you time to go through them.”

Pieter walked over to his desk and opened a drawer. He pushed at the bottom of one drawer and the bottom swing up. He reached into the hidden compartment and brought out a large package wrapped in brown paper.

“Be careful with them,” said Pieter warningly. “If they are lost—”

“Nothing will happen to them,” assured Severus. “I will make sure of it.” He tucked the package into his robes.

“I have something for you,” said Pieter to Hermione. He handed her a blue envelope.

“What’s this?” Hermione turned over the envelope. There was a green ivy seal. She broke it and the air around the envelope shimmered.

Madam Hermione Snape,
At the request of the English Ministry of Magic we invite you to partake in an information exchange between our countries. Your presence is welcomed at the Bibliothecha oo Amazon.

Sincerely yours,
Madam Inessa Ladislav

“The Amazons are even worse than the Brotherhood at guarding their information,” Severus said warily.

“They took the Dark Lords invasion into what they see as their territory as a personal insult,” said Pieter, his eyes darkening.

“Approximate Amazon army size?” Severus asked curiously, opening the top on the packet of papers and peeking in.

“Three hundred strong, and that is just their tower forces,” said Pieter. “Could you imagine three hundred insulted women looking for you?”

Severus let out a snort. Hermione giggled to herself.

“I still do not feel sorry for him, mind you,” said Pieter waving a finger at Severus as he poured more vodka in Hermione’s glass. “I am just saying it is not a place where I would want to be.”

“Indeed,” said Severus closing the end of the packet. The Dark Lord may have bitten off more than he could chew. He was weakened and hiding, yet caught the attention of the original militant feminist organization. Not to mention the most respected elite forces unit in the world. A wild part of Severus imagined this may be fantastic to watch.

Severus and Hermione eventually Floo’d back to their kitchen, and Hermione set down the basket of leftovers Pieter had insisted on giving them. A house-elf hopped up on a chair opposite her and Hermione jumped back into Severus.

“Cherv will take that for you, Madam,” he said, bowing.

“Thank you,” said Hermione. The elf hopped down and trotted to the pantry with the basket.

Hermione lowered a look at Severus.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” he groaned sleepily.

Chapter

Hermione woke to hear Crookshanks purring and she noticed a second lump weighing down the covers on her bed.

She opened her eyes and saw the small male house-elf she had seen the night before scratching a very happy Crookshanks behind the ears. The house-elf was wearing a clean red tea towel.

Severus had told her to stay in the rooms his mother had prepared for them, that he would stay in his usual rooms just down the hall.

She wasn’t sure she really wanted him to leave, but couldn’t come up with a reason for him to stay that didn’t sound suspiciously like she was afraid of the dark.

“Zdrast-vo-che,” Hermione carefully said to the house-elf, tentatively trying to say hello.

She didn’t know what to do if the little fellow responded in Russian beyond a greeting. ‘Hello’ was about as far as she went. She inwardly kicked herself for coming to a country without bothering to learn the basics of its language.

“My mother was born in Scotland, Madam,” the elf said in a very odd accent. He bowed to Hermione. It looked like he was trying to be polite and not laugh at what she just said. “I can speak English fluently. My name is Cherv.”

“Oh, good,” said Hermione, relieved. She looked over at her breakfast tray and saw her post stacked on one corner.

Cherv handed her a separate small scroll with a Hogwarts seal on it.

“What’s this?” Hermione asked as she took the scroll from him.

“It is from Cherv’s cousin, Madam,” said Cherv shyly. “I was hoping you could read it to Cherv.”

“You can’t read?” asked Hermione, surprised, as she took the parchment from him.

“Cherv cannot read English, Madam,” the elf confessed as Crookshanks encircled him, butting him with his head and covering him with orange fur. “Cherv can read and write Russian and Greek.”

“Of course,” Hermione said as she opened the letter.

Cherv,
All is well at Hogwarts. The children have gone home for the season, but there is still much to do. The rooms still must be cleaned and readied for the new students next year.

A new painting of one of the founders has been put in Headmaster’s office. She is very nice, and Dobby is liking her very much. She often has words with Phineas Nigellus and Dobby is now in charge of repairs in the Headmaster’s office if their disagreements escalate. It is interesting work and Dobby is learning all sorts of new words that are Inappropriate to Say in Front of a Lady. Headmaster Nigellus has told me this, and I’m guessing Madam Snape is reading this to you so I cannot write what I have overheard.

Hermione laughed. Phineas was so imperious, and Helga was so hard-headed that Hermione was amazed Dumbledore put them in the same room. She felt sorry for the other paintings. At least she was done with whatever hell she had unleashed on Headmaster Lyons.

Dobby thinks you need to tell Madam Snape the Legend of Felix the Kind. She would think it was amusing. Also, tell her that her friends miss her very much and hopes she takes care in a place she is not familiar with.

I hope you are doing well, and mother asks Dobby to tell you to give our regards to your mother.

Sincerely,
Dobby
Hogwarts Free-Elf

“Who is Felix the Kind?” Hermione asked as she stopped reading and refolded the letter.

“Master’s great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather.” Cherv hopped around on the bed ticking off ‘greats’ on his fingers. “He freed all the elves on the estate.”

“He did?” asked Hermione. This was a man ahead of his time. Hermione smiled at the little elf with keen interest.

“He thought we would look more dignified in uniforms,” said Cherv, ceasing his hopping. He looked woeful. “He was not thinking clearly after a local drinking contest.”

“Because uniforms are clothes,” Hermione faded off. Ahead of his time, perhaps. Ahead of his vodka, not. “If you’re all freed and have uniforms, why aren’t you wearing them?”

“We would not want to… well…” Cherv said hesitantly.

“You’re embarrassed,” said Hermione, reaching for the breakfast tray on the table near her bed. She looked at her open-faced ham and cheese sandwich and blinked. She would have to get used to the food differences here. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful to the small elf.

“It’s not something to be proud of, Madam,” admitted Cherv.

Hermione reached for her fork. “You know, Cherv, Dobby likes being able to decide who his employer is.”

“But then you take the risk of,” Cherv looked around to see if anyone else could hear him. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “unemployment.”

After she ate, Hermione dressed quickly in light green robes and followed Cherv to Severus’ chamber. She waited while Cherv knocked on the door for her.

“Enter,” Severus’ voice called out from inside.

The door opened into a room much smaller than hers.

Dark mahogany paneling lined the windowless walls and deep green carpet covered the floor. A bed with white sheets and a black spread was pushed up against one wall, its covers still messy. Several small bookshelves crouched in corners, while a large green velvet couch and low glass table sat in the center of the room.

Severus sat on the couch wearing a pale-yellow bathrobe. Hermione blinked a few times and shook her head. He read a document under a pane of glass laid over the top of it.

“How’s your Gaelic?” Severus asked sharply as he frowned at the document on the table.

Hermione winced. “Poor.”

“Unfortunately, that is not sufficient,” said Severus as he curled his lip at the offending parchment. “I will have to procure a translator.”

“Is there anyone trustworthy enough to be a translator?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

Severus raised his beetle-black eyes and they bored into her. “I had a thought I’d pop down to Economy Translators with a few copies and see what they think of it. Thought I’d give the Dark Lord a break for a change.”

Hermione gave him a dirty look. He was beginning to really enjoy those.

He smirked at her. She was really beginning to enjoy that.

“Well, as long as the Amazons are the front line and not me,” she said brusquely as she peered at the document.

The only word she had recognized on the page was ‘rise.’ Her Gaelic was colorful, even if it wasn’t practical. She had Seamus Finnegan to thank for that.

She pointed it out to Severus helpfully.

“Too bad Finnegan never had enough brain to think on his own,” said Severus, giving her a withering look. “He’d have come in handy.”

Hermione frowned, but inwardly agreed with him. It was a shame Seamus and his mother were still in denial. Seamus had gotten much better at charms through the years and would have made a good addition to the Order.

“I sent an owl to Charlie Weasley,” said Severus. “I expect he’ll reply by this evening.”

“Charlie?” Hermione was surprised.

“Who else?”

---

Professor Snape and Hermione,
I have some time. I can come see you. Is three days all right?
~ Charlie
P.S. Is the estate hooked up to the Floo network?

---

Charlie,
Friday is fine. The estate is fine for Flooing. It’s been temporarily hooked up to the extended network for the week. Please bring pictures of everyone.
Love,
Hermione

---

Hermione,
We received owls from Charlie, but decided it best to put Colin in charge of sending you pictures. Have you ever seen Charlie try to organize anything?
Hope you’re all right.
~ Ron

0

Ron,
Yes, I have seen Charlie try to organize. I was there last Christmas, remember? Don’t know what I was thinking. Colin was a great idea.
I miss all of you terribly. Maybe you can visit.
Love,
Hermione

---

Hermione,
I’d love to come, but Harry would want to come too and it’s not safe. Mum would kill me. Ginny would also like to come, but mum won’t hear of that either.
Sorry,
Ron

---

Hermione crumpled the last parchment in her fist and scowled. She supposed she was lucky she didn’t get a howler from Molly about how it was bad enough that she was here.

Mrs. Weasley was right. There was no sense of putting them all in one place when they were being potentially hunted.

Hermione saw the firelight flicker green out of the corner of her eye and she looked over to see Charlie walk through the fireplace.

“Oh my God,” said Charlie, looking around at the ballroom.

The muscular, stocky wizard looked out of place in the huge room. His red hair was in desperate need of a haircut and his clothing was worn. He pulled a battered leather trunk behind him. A bandage was wrapped around his left hand.

“Charlie!” said Hermione, flinging herself at him.

“Hi, Hermione,” said Charlie as he smiled and caught her. “It’s good to see you well.”

“Severus is out,” said Hermione apologetically. “He should get back soon.”

“I’m sure he’ll be along,” said Charlie, grinning as he looked at the cozy chairs and tea service Hermione had moved into the large empty room. “He can’t stay away forever.”

“You must be starving,” said Hermione, suddenly realizing how much Charlie looked like Ron when he was hungry and her chest ached for the familiarity that came with being surrounded by friends. “I figured we’d have some nibbles while we waited for Severus, but you look like you need something more than this.”

“I do,” admitted Charlie. “But I’ll wait for dinner.”

“Dinner is a few hours away.” Hermione lifted a small silver domed cover from the top of a plate and a small pink cake lay on a plate of delicate porcelain. Hermione cut him a piece and poured him some tea.

“I’ll be fine,” Charlie waved her concerns off as he poured cream into his tea and hungrily eyed the piece of cake she had cut for him.

They had just gotten settled when the flames in the fireplace went green again.

“Hello, Charlie,” said Severus in a cold, cordial voice as he stepped into the room. “How is your mother?”

“Fine,” said Charlie, trying to swallow the bite of cake he had just bitten into before he rose and shook Severus’ hand.

“What happened to your hand?” Severus asked sharply. “Did you have trouble on the way?”

“Hatchling got frisky,” Charlie muttered sheepishly.

“You weren’t wearing gloves?” Severus frowned.

“Sometimes it’s just not personal with the little ones,” Charlie said, trying to look innocent.

“You’re as bad as Hagrid,” said Severus, shaking his head. “And you’re starving.”

“Err—” said Charlie, really looking like Ron now.

“Get into the kitchens and get a meal,” Severus commanded fiercely. “Your mother would be furious with me.”

“I’m nearly thirty,” said Charlie, weakly defiant.

“All the more you should know better,” said Severus sternly. He swung around to face Hermione. “And that cake and tea is your idea of lunch?”

“Err—” Hermione stammered.

“Get a sandwich, both of you,” Severus snapped. “Then we’ll begin going over the paperwork.”

“Then get in fishing before bed?” Charlie asked hopefully.

“I suppose we could carpet to the lake and get in a couple of hours,” Severus grumbled.

“In the dark?” Hermione was confused.

“Not this time of year,” Charlie said. “Haven’t you noticed?”

“The rooms that have windows are enchanted,” explained Severus. “All the light bothers my mother.”

Hermione blinked in realization. The days must be almost completely light. She had forgotten completely.

“Can we lift the enchantments?” Hermione asked excitedly.

“As long as we put them back before we leave,” Severus said, frowning. “I thought it would bother you, so I didn’t alter them.”

“Round the clock daylight would be ideal,” said Hermione. “I have shutters on my windows.”

“I’ll have it seen to,” said Severus. “Now go eat. We’ll be dining with Pieter and Anna tonight. If you’re starving, he’ll accuse me of neglecting you.”

“Fine,” said Hermione, sighing.

“I think he’s secretly taking lessons from my mum,” Charlie said conspiratorially as he fell into step beside Hermione on the way to the kitchen. “At least he’s making an effort to be tolerable to you.”

‘You have no idea,’ thought Hermione.

---

“Charles, you are a friend of Hermione’s family?” Anna asked during dinner.

They were sitting in the Snape dining room. Once again, Hermione had kicked her shoes off under the table, so she could curl her toes in the cool grass. The enchanted ceiling was shades of dusky orange and blue.

“My father studies Muggle technology as a hobby,” said Charlie, trying to distract himself from the pretty woman with his herring salad. “Our families met when Hermione started going to Hogwarts. My mother wanted to make sure she was settling in well in her new household.”

“I understand,” said Anna seriously. “Your Marriage Law was quite a shock to us all. Poor Hermione is lucky to have gotten a man like our kind Severus. It could have been very unpleasant for her.”

Charlie choked on his salad and Hermione pounded him on the back.

Severus tried to stare down Charlie. He failed.

“Do be careful,” said Anna, laying a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “I think the house-elves may have missed a bone or two.”

“It’s wonderful,” said Charlie, regaining his composure. “I swallowed the wrong way.”

He sipped his water and glanced at Severus.

“How long will you be staying?” Pieter asked as he reached for a plate of chicken kiev.

“Probably just the weekend,” admitted Charlie. “The little ones will have a fit if I’m gone for too long.”

“Do you have many children?” asked Anna, matronly.

“In a way,” said Charlie, grinning.

“Charles works at the Romanian Dragon Preserve,” explained Severus.

“I would like a dragon, please,” said Misha politely.

“If you study hard and learn about them, maybe one day you can take care of them as well,” said Charlie seriously.

“Father, may I have a book on dragons?” asked Misha in careful English.

“I believe there might already be a few in the library,” said Pieter. “You may look after dinner.” Pieter turned to Charlie with interest. “Very interesting career path for someone who originated in a country where dragon breeding is illegal.”

“England is too small,” said Charlie. “One out of control dragon and it’s pandemonium. Romania is more practical.”

“I have to agree with you,” said Pieter as he burped and reached for another buttered roll. “But it must have been difficult for you to study something you have never seen.”

“I did my book work at Hogwarts,” said Charlie defensively. “Professor Kettleburn oversaw my training personally. I spent the summer between my sixth and seventh years in Romania on a student intern program.”

“I have heard of the internship program,” said Pieter, raising his eyebrows and reaching for his goblet of wine. “It is very difficult to get into.”

“Is it?” Charlie frowned. “The professor entered for me. I didn’t know until two days before end-of-term I was going.”

“You must have been an exceptional student,” said Anna, beaming at him.

My mother says you are always good at what you love,” said Charlie, shrugging. “I think I just got lucky.”

“I want to be lucky, like you,” said Misha, who had been whispering in Russian to his sisters. They were staring at Charlie’s bandaged hand in wide-eyed awe.

“Mne khotelos’ bi drakona na moi den’ rojdenia,” Nadia piped up.

“What?” Hermione whispered to Anna as Pieter seemed to be gently telling the little one no.

“She would like a dragon for her birthday,” said Anna.

Nadia began speaking in rapid Russian to Charlie who looked at Hermione for help.

“I’m lost,” admitted Hermione.

“She’s trying to negotiate for ‘just a small one,'” said Pieter. “I see politics in the future for this one.” He raised a single eyebrow at her and she fell silent, but continued to beam at Charlie.

“I might be in trouble,” Charlie said under his breath.

---

Pieter, Charlie, and the three children sang off-key opera loudly as Severus poured Hermione a cup of tea in his father’s study. It was a comfortable room done in brown leather and dark wood.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if they all sang the same song,” Hermione said to Anna, who was beginning to look annoyed.

Severus crossed his eyes in pain at a particularly high note, and Hermione and Anna giggled.

“What is all this jesting?” asked Pieter, staggering over to them, a glass of vodka sloshing around in his hand. “Does our entertaining amuse you?”

“Entertaining,” mused Anna. “Was that what it was? I thought maybe you had eaten too much for dinner and had made yourselves sick.”

“Such wonderful cooking, I could never tire of,” said Pieter, kissing her on the top of her head.

“You-,” began Anna crossly. Then she winced and placed a hand on her stomach.

Severus put his tea cup down and looked at her. Pieter placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Niet,” said Anna trying to brush away Pieter’s hand.

“Brat rojdaetsia,” Nadia said, grabbing Tatiana’s hands and trying to make her dance.

“Niet,” said Tatiana, going back to the wooden dragon in front of her.

“Da,” Anna said to Tatiana, who looked up from her dragon.

“Da?” asked Tatiana, who toddled over to Anna. She placed her small hand on Anna’s stomach and said, “Ooh!” in a surprised little voice.

Then she went back to Nadia and joined the victory dance. “Brat!” Tatiana sang.

“Well, the girls seem to think it’s a boy,” said Pieter, smiling. “I believe it is time for us to go.”

Pieter barked something in Russian to the children, and they all began to quickly gather their things.

Anna got to her feet and placed her hand on her husband’s arm.

“I think we will have to continue this later,” said Charlie, raising his glass in Anna’s direction.

“I believe so,” Anna said, smiling weakly at him. “Dinner tomorrow?”

“We’ll bring it to your house,” said Hermione quickly.

“Make some of those Cornish Pasties,” said Pieter, looking over his shoulder as he escorted Anna to the fireplace, the children following behind. “I haven’t had them since I was a child.”

“Will do,” said Charlie.

---

The next day, Hermione and Charlie worked in the kitchen making a simple dinner that could be put into the oven and cooked at the Titov’s.

“Cherv will do that for you!” The little elf wailed helplessly, standing on a chair as Hermione and Charlie swept through the kitchen mixing food and tending things on the stove.

“Its fine, Cherv,” said Hermione as she stirred a bowl of filling for pasties. “We like cooking.”

“You can go tidy up the garden outside,” suggested Charlie as he dumped a bowl of dough onto the floured table and started kneading it. “The roses could be pruned.”

“My job is kitchen,” insisted Cherv grumpily. “Zemlyaa prunes the garden. She would be angry if Cherv did it.”

“How many elves live here?” Hermione asked, wondering where they all were.

“Twenty? I do not know for certain.” Cherv paused and then brightened. “Should I go suggest Zemlyaa prune the roses and Cherv help her?”

“Good idea,” said Charlie as he picked the dough up and slapped it back down.

Cherv hopped happily to the floor and padded out of the room.

“You might end up with more elves, that keeps up,” said Charlie nodding at the retreating elf.

“They’re technically all free elves,” said Hermione. “They can do as they please.”

“Maybe one of their offspring might want to live with Mum,” said Charlie thoughtfully. “She’d really like it.”

“She’d have to give them fair pay,” said Hermione defensively.

“Room, board, and food is fair trade,” said Charlie.

“That is not fair!” she exclaimed. “That’s indentured servitude!”

“Trade is not the same as indentured servitude,” said Severus, walking in through the fireplace, his arms laden with packages from the market, “and I’m certain that arrangement could be called either.”

“Did you remember the potatoes?” Hermione asked impatiently as she reached for the parcels.

“Yes, I remembered the potatoes.” Severus snorted as he unpacked his load.

“Privet.” A sleepy sounding voice called out in Russian from the small fireplace.

Hermione turned and saw a weary looking Pieter entering the kitchen. She was thankful they hadn’t decided to use the small fireplace as storage space for spare cauldrons.

“Hello, Pieter,” said Hermione. “How is Anna?”

“She fine and is sleeping with young Boris,” Pieter said, smiling wearily. “I just awoke myself.”

“Congratulations,” said Charlie, his hands deep in a bowl of dough.

“Thank you,” said Pieter. “I admit I did not do much. She is incredible.” He looked at Hermione. “I do not know how your mother did it without magic. She was very brave.”

Hermione suddenly thought of her parents and wondered how long it had taken Anastasia to hunt them down at Fleur’s parents. They probably went straight there. She didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

At least they were in good hands.

“I’ll give you a potion for Anna,” said Severus, interrupting Hermione’s thoughts. “She might need it.”

“I thought you might have something,” said Pieter. “I expect she will wake within the hour.”

Severus left the room and Pieter turned to Hermione.

“He is a good man,” said Pieter. “Too emotional for his own good, but a good man.”

Charlie snorted.

Pieter ignored him.

Hermione was surprised, but acted normally as Severus returned to the room with a red ceramic bottle with a black stopper.

“Give her a drink of this every four hours,” said Severus handing it to Pieter.

“How much?” Pieter asked, tucking it into his robes.

“Depends on how much she thinks she needs,” said Severus with an arched eyebrow.

“Poka,” said Pieter tossing a handful of Floo powder into the small fireplace. He stepped into the flames as he waved goodbye to them.

Hermione was impressed. That was a difficult potion to brew, and most of the ingredients for the higher-level potions tended to be very pricey. He was a good man, she finally admitted to herself. At least he was acting like it for the moment.

“Are you done with the translation?” Severus asked Charlie.

“Very nearly,” said Charlie awkwardly. “The part at the bottom gets kind of vague.”

“Typical of the Brotherhood,” muttered Severus. “Just do the best you can.”

Chapter

When the mark of thunder shines upon one
One with fathers taken twice shall rise into the light
Plunging darkness into he will fall
Within him power will grow
Two paths here are laid
Light and Dark will be inside
Cleaving one into two
The answer lies with the givers of life
To show the path
Under the sea

“I think you need to go talk to the Amazons.”

---

A tall, muscular witch with braided red hair stepped through the fireplace in the Snape ballroom. She wore thick gray over-robes that were belted at the waist and a thin gold circlet across her brow.

Her eyes fixed on Hermione and she smiled cordially. “You must be Madam Hermione Snape.”

Hermione was relieved the Amazonian witch was fluent in English.

As per instruction, Hermione had been waiting for the Amazonian representative alone, although Severus had insisted in waiting in the next room over in case of emergency.

“Yes,” said Hermione, inclining her head. “I hope these arrangements didn’t prove to be too much trouble.”

“It was an amusing project to work on. Your Floo system is quite amazing.” said the witch in an odd accent. She bowed. Her thick grey over-robes were parted, and Hermione saw she was wearing white robes cut like a toga underneath. “I am Alexandra. It is my honor to act as ambassador for the Amazons.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Hermione said.

Alexandra reached into her robes and pulled out a rubber duck. She held it out to Hermione.

Hermione placed her hand on the Portkey and with a ‘pop’ they were gone.

They reappeared on a small, stable sheet of ice floating in the ocean. The position of the sun told Hermione they were several time zones away.

Icebergs and smaller chunks of ice slowly passed by as the sheet of ice seemed to drift in a specific direction. As they rounded an enormous iceberg, Hermione breathed in sharply.

A tower of ice rose thousands of meters out of the water and into the clear sky. Small slit windows fitted with tinted clear ice were set into the smooth material.

A drawbridge of made of thick carved ice began to descend as Hermione and Alexandra grew closer. Frosted ice links formed into chains that slowly lowered the football field sized bridge.

When it finally stopped, the tip of the drawbridge barely made a splash in the water.

At the top of the drawbridge, a giant set of wooden doors greeted them. Hermione was relieved to see a smaller door in one of the larger ones for people to easily come and go.

Alexandra pressed a delicate hand that was wearing a pretty blue ring to a panel on the door and murmured a word.

Purple lightning flashed across the ancient wood doors, and there was a loud grinding sound before there was a small click and she pushed the door open.

The entire first floor was one immense white room with the ceiling over twenty feet above the women milling about in it. Sunlight that reflected off the walls and illuminated the room. White staircases spiraled up support poles, accented with gold wrought handrails of ivy.

Alcoves lined the walls and witches in different light-colored toga-style robes popped in and out with a burst of amber flame. Hermione wondered if they were hooked up to a secure Floo Network, hence the amber flames instead of the green she was used to.

Enchanted doves carved out of ice flew about with parchments and scrolls, seeking out different women.

“This is incredible,” Hermione breathed.

“A lot of thought went into it,” Alexandra said proudly. “It holds some of the most valuable and rare books in the world.”

“I hope you’ll be able to help us,” Hermione admitted.

“If we can’t, I’m not sure who will be able to,” Alexandra said. She made a face like she had just smelled something foul. “No doubt you have already asked the Brotherhood for help.”

“They helped us with part of our problem, but another has come up,” said Hermione as Alexandra stepped onto one of the spiraling staircases. Hermione was relieved to see the stairs moving of their own accord. “Our answer was rather cryptic.”

“All things of true importance are,” said Alexandra sympathetically. “Hopefully my mother will be able to help you.”

It was cool, but not cold in the tower of ice. The walls were enchanted to prevent them from melting and to prevent the occupants from freezing. They passed several unmarked identical landings and Hermione wondered how often women got lost.

Alexandra stepped off the winding staircase at a landing, and Hermione followed Alexandra down a stark, white hallway until they arrived at a door with the head of an eagle etched into it.

The door slid upwards after Alexandra laid a hand on it, and Hermione was shocked at the interior of the room.

No windows decorated the walls. Dark wood paneling made the room look smaller than it was and only a few candles burned for light. A few dark colored, comfortable looking chairs crowded the room and a tiny, elderly witch was hunched over a parchment, scribbling furiously and sitting behind a large oak desk. Piles of books were everywhere.

“Hello.” She smiled as Alexandra and Hermione wound their way around the chairs and stacks of books. Her small wrinkled face beamed at them, and her white hair was pulled behind her in a thick braid.

“This is the girl, mother,” said Alexandra, bobbing.

“I am Sophia,” said the older witch to Hermione with, surprisingly, a hint of Scottish brogue in her voice. “And you have a problem.”

“Yes, I do,” said Hermione, reaching into an inside pocket of her robes. She brought out Charlie’s translation.

“You do not have the original?” Sophia asked, taking the translation.

“Not with me,” said Hermione.

Alexandra snorted.

“Have you seen the original?” asked Sophia, pointedly ignoring her daughter.

“Yes, I have,” said Hermione.

“Get the Pensive, Alexandra,” said Sophia. “And tea, dear. Thank you.”

Sophia waited until she Alexandra was busying herself with a small tea service in the corner before turning to Hermione again. “You had to find a translator?”

“Yes,” said Hermione. She hoped she wasn’t going to be chastised.

Sophia rose and walked out from around her table, leaning on a thin knobby cane. Her toga-robes were dark grey and tied with a pewter cord with gold tassels.

“Why didn’t the Brotherhood have a translation?” asked Sophia.

“I don’t know,” said Hermione.

“Probably because they didn’t know what it was,” snorted Sophia. “Damn hoarders. Don’t even know half of what they have. Only look for the prophecy after trouble’s already started. Bunch of buffoons.”

“Here’s the Pensive,” said Alexandra, setting a wide stone bowl on Sophia’s desk.

“Have you ever used one of these before?” Sophia asked.

“Yes,” said Hermione, taking her wand out and placing the tip to her temple. She pulled a smoke-like thought about the parchment from her head and placed it carefully in the bowl.

Sophia put her face in the bowl. Hermione watched as Alexandra waved her hand and shrank some of the books and furniture so there was room for them to sit and drink their tea.

Hermione blinked. Was it the ring? No one had wands.

Sophia pulled her head out of the bowl and smiled at her daughter. “I do need to tidy up, don’t I?” She cackled merrily as she tottered over to a large green chair.

Hermione placed her thought back into her head and sat in a purple chair near a small table.

Sophia waved her hand and a plate of biscuits appeared. “Your translator was good. One of the Brothers?”

“Friend of the family,” Hermione said, shaking her head.

“Convenient,” said Sophia, nodding as she took a cup and dipped a biscuit in it.

“What do you need to know?” asked Sophia. She leveled a look at Hermione.

“Well, I think it’s about Harry Potter,” Hermione said hesitantly. “I would think the mark of thunder would mean his scar. And his father and godfather were both taken from him.”

Sophia nodded.

“What else?” the elder Amazon asked.

“It sounds as if Harry’s going to have a struggle between dark and light within him,” said Hermione uncomfortably. “Are they suggesting Harry’s going to be tempted to join Voldemort, because if they are -”

“We don’t know anything,” interrupted Sophia. “Continue.”

“Then it says the givers of life will show the path to under the sea,” said Hermione. “That’s where it confuses us.”

“Such things are never conveniently clear.” Sophia nodded as she poured herself another cup of tea and waved off Alexandra when she tried to help her. “Perhaps it is not meant to be clear to you yet.”

Hermione frowned.

“But what if it’s important and I don’t see it?” Hermione worried aloud.

“Then you are not the only person who did not see it,” said Sophia. “We will be here for whatever you need.”

“You are very gracious,” said Hermione, recognizing a dismissal when she heard one. “Thank you.”

“We’ll be in touch with you,” Sophia said as Hermione rose to leave. “We’d like to stay informed of events.”

“Absolutely,” Hermione said, relieved. She hadn’t blown it. “We’ll be waiting for your communication.”

-

Hermione walked into the kitchen just after noon, and was greeted by the sight of Severus and Charlie eating piroshkis.

“How did it go?” asked Charlie, handing her one.

“They’re staying in touch,” said Hermione.

“Are you serious?” asked Charlie, his jaw dropped.

“Why? Is this bad?” Hermione worried.

“On the contrary,” said Severus. “It is exceptionally good news. Cherv!”

The little house-elf scuttled around the corner and into the kitchen at Severus’ command.

“A bottle of wine,” barked Severus. “We have celebrating to do.”

“Yes, master,” said Cherv happily.

Hermione threw a look at Severus, which he ignored.

Cherv zipped away and returned shortly with an opened bottle of wine and three glasses on a silver tray.

Hermione, Charlie and Severus toasted Hermione’s good fortune, although she still wasn’t sure what they were so happy about.

“How did it go?” asked Charlie.

“She said if we don’t see it maybe we aren’t meant to yet.”

“Typical,” spat Severus. He muttered to himself as he took a deep drink from his glass.

“Maybe when they owl me, they’ll be further along,” said Hermione.

“When they owl you?” Severus asked sharply. “Not when they contact the Order, but when they’ll owl you?

“Sophia said they’d owl me,” said Hermione hotly. “I’m their contact. It makes sense.”

“You’re born an Amazon, Hermione. They don’t recruit,” Charlie said suspiciously with a sidelong look to Severus. “They normally don’t even talk to outsiders.”

“Then why me?” Hermione squeaked.

“That’s a very good question,” said Severus. His face darkened. “One would think they’d go to Dumbledore. Stay on your toes.”

“I will,” promised Hermione. “Maybe they’re interested in me because I’m so close to Harry.”

“That would make sense.” Charlie folded his arms. “But I’m not sure it’s good news.”

“Be careful when dealing with them,” Severus cautioned. “We don’t know what to expect.”

---

“Are you sure, Mother? All the way to Atlantis? No one’s had contact with them for centuries.”

“It will be a difficult journey,” admitted Sophia. “And it will be an important story. If we can get the girl interested in us now, we can get the chronicle firsthand.”

“Does she have any idea what is going to happen to her friend?” Alexandra asked.

“No,” said Sophia sadly. “It is best she does not know. Her anger will fuel her determination.”

“It must be a burden to see prophecies so clearly,” said Alexandra, feeling sorry for her mother.

“Perhaps,” said Sophia shrugging. “But I have never known any other way.”

Sophia padded out of her office, her silk slippers making a soft noise on the floor as she walked to the moving staircase and rode it up to the library.

It was going to be a long day.

---

“I think we should go out for dinner,” said Severus suddenly. “We need to be seen out together. Do you like the ballet?”

They had been looking through his father’s library for anything pertaining to the prophecy, a dull, dreary task that had taken up most of the day and had produced nothing.

“Dinner would be nice,” said Hermione hesitantly. “I’ve seen ballet on the telly, but I’ve never been.”

“It’s a new type of experimental theater. Opera and ballet on the same stage. Be prepared to leave at seven o’clock.” He shuffled a stack of papers.

“I will,” said Hermione. Part of her was confident. Another part of her worried what to wear.

---

The house-elf, Sloozhanka, buttoned the back of Hermione’s red velvet dress robes.

The last hook clasped behind her neck as she sat on the small stool in front of the vanity in her room at the Snape estate.

“I’m really sorry for the inconvenience,” Hermione apologized to the little elf.

“No need for sorry,” said Sloozhanka in a thick Russian accent. “Is a pleasure to help madam prepare for ballet.”

Sloozhanka was one of the elves that wore the Snape household uniform. It was a scaled down version of robes with a different color corresponding to each section of the household. Sloozhankas were blue because she was considered household staff.

The small elf waved a wand over Hermione’s head, and Hermione watched as her curls tamed down to ringlets, and the elf clipped her hair into place with a bronze barrette inlaid with red gems. Hermione was pleased to know, at least here, elves were allowed restricted use of wands, because they were considered tools.

“Madam has such pretty hair,” Sloozhanka pouted as she rearranged the curls into a more natural looking cascade.

“When it behaves itself,” said Hermione sarcastically. “Which is rarely.”

“I could do madam’s every day,” the elf offered, giving Hermione’s hair a final pat.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Hermione reluctantly. “I keep odd hours and it would be too much trouble.”

“If you decide otherwise, pull the silver tassel near the bed,” said Sloozhanka. “You can summon me that way.”

She hopped off the wooden footstool she was standing on. “I think madam is ready.”

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. Her deep red robes were high necked with beaded flowers in black crystal decorating the front. Her hair was pulled behind her head, but it fell free, long curls snaking their way over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” said Hermione, and the elf bowed out of the room. At least some of the elves weren’t afraid to be freed, although the bowing would have to go.

Severus popped his head into her rooms, and Hermione turned to face him.

Her skin glowed golden in the amber shaded hurricane lamps. The rubies in her hair glittered in the flickering light. Severus’ chest tightened.

His body froze as she turned. The heavy robes slid across the stone floor in a perfect swishing motion; one perfect moment etched forever in his mind. He felt as if ice had caught flame in his veins.

She could never, would never, be his.

Hermione looked at Severus.

His hair was once again tied back, this time with a ribbon that matched her dress. His layered black silk robes were short in front, showing black silk trousers, leather boots, and white frilled shirt. The rest of his robes trailed behind him in a flutter. He had a strange look on his face and she felt her knees go weak.

His eyebrows furrowed, and Hermione began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You need a three-pointed hat and an eye patch,” Hermione giggled.

“Arrr,” Severus indulged himself. He opened a wooden box, and a pair of ruby earrings matching her dress lay inside on a pillow of purple satin.

“Wow,” Hermione whispered. She looked at Severus.

“They’re Mother’s. She always wears them with that dress,” said Severus as he tried to hurry her along. “We need to get going.”

Hermione fastened the rubies to her ears and Severus helped her into a black fur cloak.

“I doubt it will be chilly,” said Hermione. “I’m already dressed too warmly for summer, especially with the sun out all the time.”

“The theatre will be cool so people will be comfortable in more formal attire,” Severus explained.

He offered her his arm, and they walked down to the ballroom, so they could Floo to the theatre.

Charlie whistled at them as they passed by the door to the den.

Hermione paused and looked in the door at him. He was reading a book with one leg flung over the arm of a red chair. His t-shirt, bare feet and jeans with a hole in one knee was a drastic opposite to Hermione and Severus.

“What are you going to see?” asked Charlie.

“Faust,” said Severus.

Charlie bit his bottom lip and hid it with his book.

“I hear it’s lovely,” Charlie said, sneaking a look at Hermione. She hadn’t the faintest idea what it was about.

“It happened to be what was playing,” snarled Severus.

Hermione looked at him oddly, but was afraid to ask.

At the show, Hermione watched the tragedy unfold. A decent man fell to darkness and embraced depravity. She watched Faust kill his potion-seduced love’s brother because he threatened to keep them apart. When he ran to Walpurgis Night, she grinned at the prancing mythical creatures. When Hermione saw his love, her belly full of child, on trial for his crimes, she scowled. When death came in the end, his love followed the light and he fell to the abyss.

Hermione felt Severus slip a handkerchief in her hand. She sniffled as she took it and dabbed at the tears leaking from her eyes.

She was moved by the piece. He hoped she would enjoy dinner.

Perhaps he was just getting his hopes up and he was becoming a stupid old man.

The food at the Wizarding restaurant was French, and small plates of food kept appearing in front of Hermione as she finished the few bites each course allowed her.

“How many courses are there?” asked Hermione. She watched warily as the wine in her glass refilled itself.

“I’m not sure,” said Severus absently as he examined a tiny, one-bite artichoke. “Fifteen?”

“Good Lord,” Hermione said weakly.

---

Hermione and Severus stumbled across the dim ballroom floor drunkenly giggling, the only light was filtered in from the doorway to the dining room but there seemed to be a faint, soft glow from above.

“Shhh,” warned Severus, stopping suddenly. “Gonna wake whotsface.”

“Charlie?” Hermione offered with another giggle.

“Him,” agreed Severus, raising his finger. He looked at it. He moved it back and fourth, watching it. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Hermione grabbed his finger and pushed his hand down. “Shhh!”

“That’s what I said,” said Severus insistently.

Hermione looked down at her feet and watched the ripples her robes made.

“I used to dance in here as a child,” admitted Severus, shuffling his feet and making the waves seem to rise a few inches. Hermione grinned at him.

“Your mother probably thought it was adorable,” said Hermione.

“My mother always thinks I’m adorable,” Severus grimaced. “The woman has a very loose grip on reality.”

“I like your mother,” said Hermione, making a face at him, watching him dance a sloppy jig, causing the floor to wave into an ‘S’ pattern under him. “You must have had a lot of time on your hands.”

“You’d be amazed,” said Severus. “Tango!” he cried suddenly. He seized her hands and spun her around.

It probably would have helped if Hermione knew how to tango.

It also would have helped if her thick robes didn’t have a train. Her legs were almost immediately bound together, and she stumbled into Severus, and they fell to the floor in a heap.

“That wasn’t the best idea,” said Severus, now laying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

Hermione noticed it was inset with small glowing crystals in the shape of constellations. She rubbed her forehead with a scowl. “Imagine that.”

Severus looked at her quizzically.

“You elbowed me.”

“In the head?” asked Severus incredulously, still lying on the ballroom floor. “How did I do that?”

“Damned if I know,” said Hermione, laying beside him and staring at the ceiling. “That’s pretty.”

“My grandpapa enchanted it to glow. Before that it was just painted roses,” said Severus. He sighed. Then he raised himself on one elbow and kissed her. He lay back down beside her and instantly regretted it.

Hermione was surprised. She chanced a glance at him.

He lay back staring at the ceiling. Well she didn’t scream. Perhaps she’s still stunned.

He would have to apologize for his inappropriate behavior tomorrow.

He started as her face appeared above his, blocking his view of the stars. Before he could begin apologizing, she pressed her lips to his.

Then she lay next to him and snuggled against his side.

She was beautiful, and either she had way too much wine or she actually fancied him.

His head swam. His groin tightened. She was a pretty girl, very smart, his parents liked her… this was madness.

If the marriage was consummated, he would never agree to divorce.

Hermione laid a hand on his chest. He had kissed her. She had worked up her nerve and kissed him. Now he was just laying there. Maybe he hadn’t liked it when he kissed her and was repulsed now? She wondered whether she should remove her hand from his chest when he turned on his side and pressed his lips to her forehead.

She shyly reached a hand up and placed it on the side of his face. It was smooth from being freshly shaven, and he smelled like sandalwood. He drew a single finger down her jaw line. She shivered.

They kissed again and Hermione fought off the urge to wrap a leg around him.

“This is a very inappropriate place for this,” whispered Severus hoarsely.

“We should go to bed.” She was glad it was dark so he couldn’t see how red her face was.

He rose to his feet and held a hand out to her. She struggled to her feet under her voluminous robes and straightened skirts.

“You’re beautiful,” said Severus, looking down on her, and he meant it.

Hermione bowed her head, and Severus imagined she was blushing prettily.

He leaned down to kiss her again and felt her arms encircle his waist. He tried to avoid pressing his erection into her.

She seemed to take this as a challenge and pressed into him. He opened his eyes and looked at her. He parted his lips and flicked at her lips with his tongue.

Her eyes flew open to see his eyes. She snaked a hand down to his buttocks and deepened their kiss.

Severus groaned. He should have known better than to think she had never engaged in at least a few heavy petting sessions during her time at Hogwarts. She wasn’t shy.

Hermione’s mind went completely blank.

Her head was light from all the wine, her body felt like it was in overdrive, and Severus was obviously attracted to her. She heard him groan and she broke their kiss.

Severus saw her catch her breath and was surprised when she went for his collar and began kissing and nipping at his neck.

“Bedroom,” he gasped out.

Severus saw in the low light of his bedroom that Hermione had flushed a most bewitching color of pink. Severus felt his mind catch fire.

It took him forever to undo the hundred little buttons up the back of her dress. He had felt too tipsy to wield his wand at her and had undone them by hand.

He undid the three buttons to his robes, and they slid heavily to the floor.

He leaned down to kiss her as she undid his trousers and they fell. He broke their kiss and pulled his shirt over his head.

He kissed the back of her hand and led her to the bed.

“Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, after all,” groaned Severus, instantly regretting the whole thing as soon as he felt her hands on him.

He couldn’t control himself. She was young and sweet, and the wine was buzzing around his head. He had to leave.

“Why?” said Hermione, pulling back from him.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Do you promise?” she whispered in his ear and flicked it with her tongue.

He slid a hand under her undershirt.

“I would like to kiss you here,” he said hoarsely.

She nodded at him shyly and helped him take her undershirt off. She buried her fingers in his hair as he kissed and caressed her.

“Take your pants off, Severus.” Hermione groaned as he nibbled at her.

“Hermione-” Severus began.

“We’re married, Severus,” said Hermione with a groan of… was that exasperation?

“If we do that, we have to stay married,” Severus warned. Surely the girl would be dissuaded by that idea.

“Take your pants off, Severus,” Hermione squirmed against him impatiently.

Well, if it’s what she wants…

She felt him rise and lay on her. Something both rock hard and velvety soft nudging between her legs.

“I need you,” moaned Severus into her hair. He felt the beads of sweat forming in his brow as he fought his instincts.

“Oh, God, Severus,” Hermione burst out; eyes squeezed shut as he nudged her where she wanted him the most. “Fuck me.”

He was taken over the edge by her obscenity and began pushing himself into her without regret.

“I want to make you come,” Severus growled in her ear. Not knowing, not even caring where her new boldness came from.

“To the left,” said Hermione through clenched teeth, before kissing him violently and bucking up to meet him.

Severus shifted and he heard Hermione begin a low moan underneath him. He moved faster.

Severus heard her cry out loudly and shudder. He slowed down, but kept moving inside her. He continued a steady rhythm, placing soft kisses on her shoulders. She purred soft nothings to him and scratched his back as he took his pleasure from her.

When he was done, Severus collapsed on her.

Hermione opened her eyes and looked at him. She ran a finger over the little worry crease between his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m wondering if you’re going to regret this tomorrow,” said Severus, truthfully.

Hermione leaned over and kissed the end of his nose.

“I regretted not taking advantage of you the morning I woke up and you were dry humping my bottom,” said Hermione, giggling and sinking under the covers.

“You were awake?”

“How was I supposed to sleep through that?” asked Hermione, reaching for him as he lay back on the bed.

Severus turned her on her side. “This?”

Hermione was surprised to feel him ready again. She snuggled back into him, and he inhaled the scent of her hair.

He slid into her easily and finished again.

Severus looked down at his wife, gently withdrawing himself and leaving the bed to get his wand before he performed a cleaning charm.

Hermione snuggled back against him when he returned and sighed contentedly. She took one of his arms and wrapped it around her. He relaxed against her form and felt his heartbeat against her.

She was lovely.

Molly Weasley was going to kill him.

Chapter

When Hermione woke, she burrowed deeper under the covers.

It didn’t take her long to remember where she was. She quickly noticed she was alone.

‘Well, it wasn’t a dream then,’ Hermione thought groggily to herself. ‘Wonder if he’s off somewhere trying to forget.’

Her question was answered when the door to the room opened and Severus tip-toed in. He was wearing his yellow bathrobe and carrying breakfast.

She also noticed Crookshanks purring at the foot of the bed.

“How did you get in here?” Hermione asked him.

Crookshanks raised his head and yawned widely.

Severus groaned as he lay the tray down and got back into bed.

She certainly was bewitching, but to think he could perform like a twenty-year-old with no consequences was insane. He hadn’t been this sore in years.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked as she approached the bed with a tray for him.

“I may have over done it,” said Severus, wincing as he sat up.

“Would you like a potion?” Hermione asked.

Severus shook his head. “The rest are for Anna.”

“I did take healing classes my seventh year,” Hermione said in an annoyed tone. “I can brew a simple healing potion.”

“Third basement down. Take a right at the wine cellar,” said Severus with a chuckle.

“Excuse me?” asked Hermione, somewhat taken aback.

“My laboratory,” said Severus.

“Why is it all the way down there?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I was a sullen teenager,” Severus said dryly. “I liked to be left alone.”

“Who would have ever thought?” Hermione remarked sarcastically.

Hermione wolfed her breakfast down quickly and then looked down at herself. “I should put normal clothing on.”

“I’m sure the elves wouldn’t comment, if you happen to see one,” Severus said suggestively.

“It will be cold in the basement,” reasoned Hermione.

“Take my robe,” said Severus, motioning to the yellow robe that was draped over the back of his couch.

“You just don’t want me to put clothing on!” Hermione accused, her cheeks flushing.

“Yes.”

He tried to cover his smirk by sipping his tea, but Hermione saw it and scowled at him.

“I was thinking about poor Charlie,” said Hermione exasperatedly.

“Hermione,” Severus began, reaching out and taking one of her hands in his. “Our marriage has been consummated.”

Hermione stared at the back of his hand. Small black hairs dotted the back of his knuckles. She stroked them absentmindedly.

“If you want to tell people, you should,” said Severus, sounding nervous. He was afraid she was going to ask for an annulment immediately.

“I don’t know,” said Hermione. She scooted next to him and kissed him on the neck. “If it suits me.”

“I think you’d better get that potion,” said Severus, feeling his body respond enthusiastically.

She did fancy him!

“I’ll be back,” said Hermione, kissing his cheek and hopping off the bed.

Severus lay his head back on the pillow and allowed his eyes to rest. He was married to a competent young witch that seemed to like him. It all seemed too good to be true.

Hermione returned about an hour later and handed Severus a glass tumbler with gold liquid at the bottom. He downed it.

“Very good,” he said. “I would not have thought of using lemon to cut the aftertaste. What are you wearing?”

Hermione looked down at herself. She had changed into Muggle jeans, a blue cardigan and a white t-shirt. Her sneakers were poking out of the bottoms of her jeans.

“I didn’t know I was required to look like a cover girl,” Hermione said haughtily. “This was sensible for potions brewing.”

“Indeed,” said Severus, swinging his feet out of bed and stretching. He stood and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Well, it’s lovely.”

While certain pure-blood wizards and witches would sneer at her clothing as being unfeminine, Severus couldn’t help but appreciate the view from behind.

Especially when she bent over to scratch Crookshanks behind his ears.

“Your supplies need to be restocked,” said Hermione over her shoulder. Severus shook his head as he pressed on a panel on his wall. It swung open and Hermione saw a sparse bathroom.

“Figures,” said Severus, standing in front of the toilet.

Her eyes widened in shock. This married thing came with some unexpected surprises as well. Well, he certainly wasn’t shy.

When he was done, he started the shower that was tucked into one corner.

“Mother has a habit of using up everything and never replacing anything. It was the only way she could get me to go out as a teenager.” He sounded irritated. “She probably wanted to make sure I showed you around the city.”

Hermione laughed.

“I’ll go to the library and wait for you,” said Hermione.

“What are we doing today?” Severus asked, a frown creasing his brow.

“Restocking your supplies,” said Hermione, leaving the room with a wave.

Severus shook his head and smiled to himself as he stepped into the warm steaming water. At least he had been saddled with a sensible girl.

---

“Maybe we should have brought an interpreter,” remarked Hermione as they stepped out of a fireplace and she brushed a few stray ashes from her jacket. They had appeared in what looked like a pub. It was small and dark, but it smelled like warm food and smoked wood.

“Severus!” a jolly voice called out. “Vodka?”

Hermione spied a short, stocky wizard behind the bar. He was wiping down mugs with a clean red cloth.

“On you?” asked Severus, a corner of his mouth quirking.

“Of course,” said the barkeep, slamming a shot glass on the counter and pouring clear liquid into it. “Is this your new bride?”

“Yes,” said Severus, pulling Hermione closer. “Hermione, this is my cousin, Yuri.”

The barkeep had dark blue eyes, thick, brown curly hair, and a wide toothy smile that reminded Hermione of Pieter.

“I’m beginning to think you’re related to everyone,” remarked Hermione.

“Sometimes it seems like that to us as well,” said Yuri, pouring Hermione vodka in a shot glass.

Hermione drank it and thanked Yuri when he handed her a piroshki in a paper pouch.

“Replenishing supplies?” Yuri asked.

“How did you guess?” Severus asked dryly.

“It’s the only time you come into town,” said Yuri, smiling. “Svetlana would like to see you while you’re in the area.”

“We’ll try to stop by, then,” said Severus, his smile faltering.

“Well,” said Yuri. “I have drinks to serve and you have things to get. Send me an owl later.”

“I’ll do that,” said Severus, seemingly relieved the conversation was over.

Hermione and Severus waved good-bye and walked out into Mageeya Topeek. The small, magical shopping area was crowded and bustling with Russian-speaking wizards.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked.

“Svetlana’s mother was killed by the Dark Lord,” said Severus uncomfortably. “She got in the way when he first appeared in the area.”

“So, Yuri’s a widower?” asked Hermione abruptly, stopping before she banged into Severus in front of a store with an incomprehensible sign.

Severus nodded. He opened the door for her as she finished her piroshki, and she hastily shoved the greasy paper in her pocket.

“Yuri’s mother has never quite forgiven me for becoming involved in the Dark Lord’s plan,” Severus said. “She thinks the killing of Svetlana’s mother is God’s punishment for evil in the bloodline. She petitioned to have me burned the last time I came to visit.”

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione, truly meaning it, wondering if they were in danger.

“Master Snape!” A high reedy voice called out. To Hermione’s surprise, it had an Irish lilt mixed in with the thick Russian. “How good to see you’ve decided to visit us instead of going to France this year!”

Severus chuckled.

Hermione was surprised at his response. Although she was getting used to the likable Severus behind closed doors, she was surprised to see it in a public arena.

A tiny man hopped off the stool he was standing on behind the counter and ran over to shake Severus’ hand. He barely came to Severus’ waist, and his coarse, stiff amber hair stood out in all directions. He had tried to force a green cap on top of it in a mad attempt to keep in out of his face. He wore a tan shirt, blue vest, and brown pants in a fashion that reminded Hermione of the Renaissance.

However, he was also wearing Muggle basketball shoes in a child’s size, and a belt with silver studs on it.

Severus laughed out loud.

“You don’t like them?” the small man asked, flashing his shoes at Hermione and smiling. “They’re very comfortable.”

“I bet they are,” said Hermione, happy to see Muggle logic applied anywhere in the world of magic.

“Where did you get those?” Severus demanded.

“Traded for a silver cauldron,” said the tiny man.

“You let a cauldron go for a pair of shoes?” Severus asked, aghast.

When Hermione told him how much money those shoes would go for in the Muggle world, he looked shocked.

“For a pair of shoes?!”

“They’re very comfortable.” The little man grinned. “I’m Brian,” he said, holding out his hand to Hermione.

“Hello,” said Hermione. “Hermione.”

“Now, what are you looking for today?” the little man asked Severus, rubbing his hands together.

---

Hermione and Severus arrived home with mounds of packages heaped in their arms.

Severus convinced Hermione to leave them in the ballroom for the elves to put away.

“They’re bored,” Severus insisted. “It will give them something to do.”

Hermione reluctantly agreed, and they went to say good-bye to Charlie. He would be returning to England to make a report to the Order.

Not to mention Molly was expecting him for dinner.

---

“But Madam, most elves are happy here. They do not want to be paid.” Sloozhanka sighed as she braided Hermione’s hair. The morning was clear and golden sunlight was spilling over the dressing table, making the pins and combs sparkle.

“Wouldn’t you like of money for your own?” Hermione asked insistently.

“We have no need for money,” said Sloozhanka, confused. “We charge to the family account.”

“Not all masters are as kind as yours are,” Hermione pointed out, quite surprised at the elves’ answer.

“I agree,” said Sloozhanka. “Cherv has a cousin that had a terrible family.”

“I know his cousin,” said Hermione. “And I agree, the Malfoys are horrible.”

“Since Cherv’s cousin has been freed and works for a wage, does that mean he can take time off as well?” asked Sloozhanka innocently.

“I suppose,” said Hermione slowly. “The summer holidays are in full swing. I can’t imagine he has a lot to do.”

“Perhaps he could come for a holiday,” suggested Sloozhanka in a way that made Hermione think it was an order.

“That’s kind of you, for never having met him,” said Hermione suspiciously.

Sloozhanka tried to look nonchalant, but blushed.

“Spill.” Hermione demanded.

“What has spilled?” Sloozhanka, looking on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione, embarrassed. “It’s a term for telling me what is on your mind.” She felt rather stupid.

“I hear Dobby comes from very good breeding stock,” said Sloozhanka.

“Ah,” said Hermione. She began to wonder what house-elf courtships involved. “He is a very good person. I know nothing of his parentage.”

She wasn’t sure she agreed with the joining of anyone for purposes of creating more efficient slaves at all, although if both parents were freed, the child would be born free, wouldn’t they?

Suddenly, there was a scratching at Hermione’s bedroom window. She looked up to see a small white beast waiting for her on her windowsill.

“What on earth is that?” Hermione exclaimed as Sloozhanka hopped off her stool to open the window.

“Snow dragon,” said Sloozhanka. “Very rare. Someone interesting wants to communicate with you.”

The elf struggled with the latch on the window before she pointed her wand at it, and it opened easily.

“Could Dobby have a wand if he came to visit?” Hermione asked, suddenly getting an idea.

“Of course, he could,” said Sloozhanka as the little dragon leapt into the room and padded across the floor to Hermione on four feet.

He was the size of a bread box, and to Hermione’s shock, covered in white downy feathers. His feet looked like large dog paws, and he walked like a canine although his face looked serpentine.

“You are a funny-looking little guy,” she said, reaching for the tube bound around his neck.

“Looked in the mirror lately?” said the dragon in a high, reedy voice as he looked at her half-braided hair critically. His large amber eyes blinked at her.

Hermione froze in shock. Not only did she encounter a creature she had never seen before, it was intelligent, and she had perhaps offended it.

The dragon made a strange clicking sound, and by the way Hermione assessed his movements, she suspected he was laughing at her.

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione. “I need to learn manners, it appears.” She flushed a deep red.

“You have never seen one of my kind,” said the dragon. “Your apology is accepted if you manage to fix my ear tuft.” He swiped at his head with one of his legs.

“What happened?” Hermione asked, sliding to the floor and sitting near the small creature.

“It started itching somewhere near Stockholm,” complained the dragon.

Sloozhanka frowned at the dragon and marched across the floor to it. She pointed her wand and said something in a mixture of Latin and Russian that Hermione didn’t understand.

Hermione scooted back suddenly as a long, slender, electric blue worm was magically pulled from the dragon’s ear tuft.

“What is that?” she squeaked, horrified.

“Parasite,” said Sloozhanka. “Perhaps the master can make use of it in his laboratory.”

The small elf left the room, and Hermione was left with the dragon that was shaking his head as if to rid itself of the feeling the parasite had given him.

“What a first impression,” the dragon muttered to himself. Hermione thought he sounded embarrassed.

“We’re even now,” said Hermione, reaching out to scratch the head of the dragon. She gently unbuckled the tube bound around his neck.

She wasn’t surprised to see a sparkling blue envelope fall out.

Hermione,
Your home has been added to our transport network, so you can just use your fireplace to transport yourself to the Bibliotheque oo Amazon.
We realize it is short notice, but we would like you to join us this afternoon around three, your time.
Alexandra

“Short notice,” said Hermione sighing. “That’s only a few hours away.”

Severus walked into Hermione’s bedroom and looked taken aback at the dragon’s presence.

“Hail, fellow,” said Severus. “Let’s get a look at that ear.”

The dragon sniffed the air in the direction of Severus and padded over to him.

Severus sank to his knees and scratched the dragon’s head gently.

“Which tuft did it come from?” said Severus.

“The right one,” said the dragon. Severus carefully parted the fine, downy feathers and looked at the small puncture wound left by the parasite. He frowned.

“Do you need to return immediately?” Severus asked.

“Why?” The dragon looked suspicious.

“It looks as if it has laid eggs,” said Severus, sounding sorry for him. “They need to be removed carefully. If you need to return, I suggest you go by Floo.”

“I don’t think I will be reprimanded if I do not return immediately, as long as the sisters know where I am,” said the dragon.

“What was that thing?” Hermione asked.

“Parasites that leech magic,” Severus said. “Very dangerous. I can remove them, but it will take some time.”

“Well, I think that’s a very good reason to stay put,” said Hermione, repulsed. “It sounds frightening.”

“They aren’t deadly if you catch them early,” said Severus. “I shall write a letter to the Amazons telling them where he is, unless you want to tell them,” he said, looking at the opened envelope.

“I’m sure that would be fine,” said Hermione. She watched as Sloozhanka returned and led the little dragon out of the room, patting him supportively on his back. “I’m supposed to see them this afternoon.”

“Excellent,” said Severus. “I’m going to meet with Pieter. We can catch up at dinner.”

“Perfect,” said Hermione, relieved last-minute plans were going smoothly.

---

Sophia looked at Hermione, her face full of concern.

“I wonder where he picked it up,” Alexandra said nervously.

“He said somewhere near Stockholm,” said Hermione.

Alexandra and Sophia exchanged quick glances as a soft knock sounded at the door.

They were once again sitting in Sophia’s office, although it was much cleaner than the last time she had visited. A young witch that appeared to be Hermione’s age brought in their tea. She looked like Alexandra, though her hair was thick and golden blonde, cascading almost to the back of her knees.

“This is my youngest daughter, Kari,” said Sophia. “Her military training will be completed at the end of the summer.” Sophia beamed proudly.

“Congratulations,” said Hermione.

“She’s half a decade early,” explained Alexandra proudly. “Our little prodigy.”

“How long is training?” asked Hermione, surprised.

“Usually two decades,” Sophia said. “Incredible, considering her parentage.”

“We’re not sure who my father is,” said Kari, matter-of-factly. “Mother was assaulted during the last war.”

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione to both Sophia and Kari. She didn’t quite know what to say.

“It was years ago, a few moments of time, and I daresay we all recovered,” said Sophia stiffly, patting Kari on the arm as she poured the tea. “I got a beautiful, brilliant daughter out of it.”

Hermione got the impression Sophia had been repeating that to Kari since she was a child.

“How are Amazons usually born?” Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Well, a witch and wizard get together and do a kind of special hugging-,” began Alexandra, her eyes twinkling as she reached for her tea. Kari burst out laughing.

“Naughty girls,” Sophia admonished, half-heartedly. “You know what she means.”

“Usually we get a volunteer from the Brotherhood that is willing to create a child,” explained Alexandra. “We keep the girls and they keep the boys.”

Hermione couldn’t imagine being raised in an enclave of only one sex and brought up to see men as only sperm donors. She glanced at Alexandra.

“That’s not how Alexandra was born,” said Kari, practically swooning and batting her eyelashes dramatically. “Mother was in love with her father.”

“That was a long time ago,” said Sophia gently. “I made my choice to stay here.”

Hermione saw the flash of pain across Sophia’s face when Alexandra’s father was mentioned.

“You would have been miserable in England,” said Alexandra.

Sophia shrugged and sipped at her tea, but she seemed to be shooting warning glances at her daughter, who didn’t seem to notice.

“Have you gone to England?” asked Hermione conversationally.

“No, but I’d like to,” said Alexandra proudly. “He’s a great wizard.”

“Maybe I know your father,” mused Hermione, thinking of all the Wizards she knew.

“I know you do,” said Alexandra before her mother stopped her. “He’s Albus Dumbledore.”

---

“How did your meeting go?” asked Severus as they sat at the small table in the kitchen in the Snape mansion.

“It was very… informative,” said Hermione, reaching for a piece of steak and kidney pie. She was relieved the elves had prepared a British meal. All this foreign food was good, but not nearly as satisfying as food she was familiar with.

The elves had gone back to their den for the night, and a small fire was crackling merrily in the hearth. They had no other light, but the small fire was enough to lend a golden glow to the kitchen.

“That was the idea,” said Severus, annoyed. “Feel like sharing any of it with me.”

Hermione hesitated and reached for her glass of water. “Well, we did go over some old scrolls, but nothing seemed to fit.”

Severus looked at her, and she felt his eyes piercing her skin and looking directly into her brain.

“Do you ever use Legilimency on me?” asked Hermione suddenly.

“No. Not unless you think I need to.” Severus frowned.

“Does Dumbledore know he has a daughter?” Hermione blurted out.

“I beg your pardon?” said Severus, completely taken aback.

Hermione relayed the events during tea.

“This girl claims to be Dumbledore’s daughter,” said Severus, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair. “It can be proven with testing, of course, but it might be a trap to lure him here.”

“Why would the Amazons want to lure him here?” asked Hermione. “I don’t think Sophia had any intention of telling him.”

Severus frowned. “How old does the girl look?”

“Mid-thirties?” Hermione guessed, pushing her now empty plate away. “You can’t tell with witches up here with their lotions and potions. Your mother looks like she’s twenty-five.”

“I know how messy this might make things, but it’s very important he knows.”

“Why?” asked Hermione.

Severus frowned. “I thought you would see it as your moral duty to tell Dumbledore.”

“Initially, yes,” wibbled Hermione. “Sophia has already raised Alexandra, and although she has kept up with her fathers’ exploits, she didn’t seem all that motivated to seek him out. Dumbledore has enough to worry about right now.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” insisted Severus, shaking his head impatiently. “If a powerful dark wizard gained access to this girl, he could use her blood to magically track and kill Dumbledore. He needs to be informed immediately.”

“What!?” Hermione gasped. “How?”

“Why do you think bloodlines are so important to wizards?” He sounded exasperated.

“I assumed it was left over from long ago,” said Hermione weakly. “Like the Muggle noble families.”

“It’s not just societal,” said Severus. “There is a science to everything we do, although it seems backwards at times. I’m sorry, Hermione, we’re going to have to tell him. We have no choice. They should have obliviated you when they had the chance.”

Severus rose from his chair and kissed Hermione on the forehead.

“I will inform the Headmaster,” said Severus as he rose to his feet. “Have Cherv show you where my special books are. They will explain better than I can.”

Chapter

Remus Lupin sat at the large, wooden table in the kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, drinking a cup of tea and reading the Daily Prophet. He was just getting absorbed in an article on a new Irish Chaser when green flames leapt up in the hearth.

“Hello, Remus,” Charlie Weasley said as he walked into the kitchen.

“Hello,” said Remus, setting his paper down. His sleepy eyes crinkled around the corners when he saw Charlie.

“Is Mum around?” Charlie asked.

“No,” said Remus. “She went shopping for supper. Anything I can help you with?”

“Just wanted to tell you all bets are off,” chuckled Charlie. “The deed has been done.”

“Really?” Remus said, his eyebrows raised. “I thought they’d hold out until at least July.”

“They went to the ballet.” Charlie rolled his eyes.

Remus shook his head, a half-smile playing around his lips. “So, who won the pool? I know I lost two knuts.”

“Fred and George,” said Charlie. “It figures; they were always good at divination.”

“I don’t know why Mundungus let them bet at all,” said Remus, disgusted.

Charlie shrugged and sat down at the table. “I wouldn’t have let them, but I know better.”

“Well, I’d better go tell Dung so he’ll have a head start when they begin looking for him,” said Remus, rising from the table. “Give me an hour.”

“Will do,” said Charlie, waving his wand and watching a cup of cocoa float to him. “It’ll give me plenty of time to read your paper.”

---

Dumbledore was sitting on the balcony of his family home in Switzerland, sipping a glass of mint lemonade, when a large owl swooped down and landed next to him.

“Hello, there,” Dumbledore said, reaching for the parchment attached to the owl’s leg. “What do you have for me?”

Dumbledore unraveled the parchment and began reading. His face paled as his eyes ran over the page. His pallor turned red as his eyes reached the end of the page.

“Damndable woman!” Dumbledore thundered, startling the owl on the railing as he leapt from his chair. He flapped his arms helplessly as his mind searched for words.

He bellowed in frustration instead. He raised his wand in the air and with a loud crack, he was gone.

---

“Madam Sophia?” a young witch said tentatively as she knocked at the door to Sophia’s office.

“The door is unlocked, child. You’re more than welcome to come in,” said Sophia, her eyes crinkling over the top of her silver- rimmed spectacles. “You’re new to the department, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the witch. Her short black hair curled out in all directions and her red toga made her light skin and dark eyes stand out. “My name is Helen.”

“Odessa’s girl?” Sophia asked. “I hear you do well in Charms.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Helen, looking nervous. “Unfortunately, I’m not here for a pleasure visit.”

“Out with it, girl,” said Sophia, frowning.

“There’s a man outside! He’s demanding to see you,” Helen blurted out quickly. “Loudly.” She looked scandalized.

“Ah,” said Sophia, taking her glasses off and folding them up. Her hands were shaking as she pushed them into a worn brown leather case. “I should have been expecting that.”

“But ma’am,” Helen faltered. “How did he find us?”

“He followed his line,” said Sophia, shaking her head.

Helen looked confused, but Sophia said nothing more as she used her cane to rise to her feet and toddled out of her office.

---

Dumbledore glowered as he tapped his foot impatiently on the floating piece of ice. The drawbridge lowered from the enormous ice fortress.

He knew better than to storm in, as much as he wanted to. He assumed this place had the same type of wards the Brotherhood had. Although he felt like exploding, the reality didn’t appeal to him.

The heavy double doors creaked noisily as they opened, and he watched a small, hunched figure draped in green begin walking towards him, a dozen or more Amazon warriors in close ranks following beside and behind her. The older woman’s descent was slow, and the younger females had to pace themselves. They finally made it to the end of the drawbridge after what felt like an eternity.

He saw her eyes and he deflated.

“Why, Sophie?” he found himself asking quieter than he would have thought himself capable of. He was surprised at how much the sadness came out in his voice.

“We both had obligations,” said Sophia, her face pained. She stepped apart from her platoon and closer to him. They walked a few steps away. “I didn’t see any reason to ruin your life.”

“You couldn’t possibly have ruined my life.”

“I didn’t want to bring attention to her. I tried to go to England to tell you later, but… it didn’t turn out well and I returned,” Sophie said bitterly.

“Now she’s grown and not a child anymore,” reminded Dumbledore.

“I can’t change what has happened, Albus,” said Sophia, shaking her head. “All I can say is I was trying to protect you and our daughter.”

Her blonde hair had gone white and gotten much, much longer. Her back was hunched, and Dumbledore remembered her tall, with a spine of steel, and a stubborn streak to match. Her heavy, green cloak was pulled tight around her to keep out the cold, so he couldn’t tell if she had kept her slight figure, but he guessed she had by her thin face.

He shook his head sadly at her and then looked at the other witches.

Alexandra stood in the middle of the ranks of Amazons, her wand at her side and her bow slung over her shoulder. She heard her arrows rattle in their case as she began shaking. Kari nudged her with her elbow. It wouldn’t do to become a mess when she was supposed to be setting an example of professional behavior to the new trainees.

She stared at Dumbledore and tried to memorize every detail of him.

Something stirred inside her that she hadn’t felt since she had been a very small child, and her stomach began feeling queasy. Her head felt light. She noticed she was chewing on the inside of her bottom lip and her jaw was clenched. She was trying to convince herself that she was too old for this. Another part of her screamed he was going to go and she was going to miss her chance.

Something in her broke as she saw him shake his head and pull back from her mother and her inner-child won.

“Father!” Alexandra cried out and pushed her way through the ranks that hadn’t turned at her cry.

She didn’t know how he really felt about all this. She didn’t care.

Dumbledore raised his eyes and saw a pretty red-headed girl pushing her way through the ranks of archers. She looked like his mother.

“Mighty Merlin,” Dumbledore whispered, stepping forward to see her. “Sophie, she’s beautiful.”

Alexandra wanted to hug him, to shake him and ask him where he had been, to kiss his wrinkled face, to smack him for losing contact with her mother. As she got closer to him, she realized she didn’t know what to do.

She felt stark, naked, and open.

Dumbledore made the decision by embracing her.

Alexandra was held so tightly, she was having trouble breathing.

The other girls wouldn’t understand. Most of them considered love to be an impractical thing that happened to other people.

“Run along now,” Alexandra heard her mother say to the troops. “We’ll be fine. Shoo.”

Alexandra looked over her shoulder to see the troops walking back up to the fortress in broken ranks. She caught Kari’s eye as she looked over her shoulder, and the sisters locked eyes. Kari quirked a corner of her mouth at her.

“I think,” said Dumbledore carefully, “that we have some catching up to do.”

---

Hermione sat in Severus’ subterranean laboratory with a black leather book in her hand. She ate an apple as she turned the pages. An otherwise hidden portal was open behind her and a dozen books sat on a stone shelf.

“Find anything interesting?” Severus asked as he walked into the cave with a wooden box rattling with empty potions bottles.

“It’s interesting,” admitted Hermione. “I’m just not sure why anyone would want to do some of it.”

Severus shrugged. He looked uncomfortable.

She decided not to push it any further. She continued reading Divination by Reading Entrails by Marissa Lumpkettle.

“I thought you hated divination,” said Severus, glancing at her.

“I do,” said Hermione. “But this seems more scientific than staring at a hunk of glass.”

Severus shrugged. “It’s not.”

Hermione turned the page to see an illustration of a vivisected Muggle. She felt goose bumps rise on her arms and she closed the book.

“Stopping already?” Severus said, an eyebrow raised. “

“I feel like stretching my legs,” Hermione lied. “It would be a shame to waste the day.”

“We could go to the lake.”

“So you can fish?” Hermione asked, an eyebrow raised in mimic of his.

“We can have fresh dinner,” said Severus practically.

“Yes, we would starve were it not for your ability to provide for us,” said Hermione sarcastically, a smile playing around her lips. She walked up behind him and shyly encircled his waist with her arms.

“The carpet is ready to go,” said Severus.

-

Soon, Severus was steering the flying carpet out of his mother’s garden and west towards the lake.

“How large is your property?” Hermione asked, startled by the expanse of land.

“It is a clever illusion,” said Severus. “The lake is behind that crop of trees.”

“Lake?” Hermione spluttered. “It can’t be any bigger than a pond.”

“Well, it’s quite large when you are six,” said Severus hotly.

“Is that when you and Pieter named it: ‘The Lake?'” Hermione asked.

“Probably,” said Severus, nodding as the carpet brushed over the tops of the fruit trees in the orchard. He reached out and pulled an apple off a branch as they passed and bit into it.

Hermione tried to picture Severus at six and couldn’t. His mother had to have pictures lying around somewhere.

They soared over the field, past the orchard, and brushed the tops of the evergreen trees near the water.

Hermione was delighted at the trees growing in the shapes of tables and chairs.

Severus waved his wand and a golden dome surrounded the area. The air began warming immediately. Hermione slipped her fur cloak off and shook the chill out of her limbs.

Severus walked over to a tree stump. A single thin sprig tapered out of the center of it and jutted upwards a few meters before thin branches laden with light leaves spread out overhead to form an umbrella.

Severus took what looked like small glass blocks out of his pocket and set them on the surface of the naturally formed table. He waved his wand and they grew into preservation chambers. He slid the top off one and took out a sandwich.

“This is very nice,” Hermione said pleasantly. She slid the top off another one to find it full of bait. “EW!”

“Oops,” said Severus, setting his sandwich down and closing the top of the box she had opened. “That one is mine.”

“Thank heaven for that,” said Hermione grimacing.

“The other one should be safe,” said Severus, walking to the shoreline with his box of bait.

Hermione sat near Severus, eating her lunch as he cast his line. When she was through, she went over to a reclining tree and nestled into a nook that seemed carved out just for the purpose of creating a cozy place for reading.

Hermione glanced up from her book from time to time to watch Severus reel in his line.

After a few hours, feeling satisfied with her reading material, she looked at Severus curiously. “Is the pond fit for swimming?”

“Yes,” Severus said over his shoulder. “The bottom is sandy, so you don’t have to wear shoes.”

“Perfect,” said Hermione, walking by him, completely nude, and descending into the water.

Severus watched as his line wriggled itself away from her.

He was thankful it was enchanted to avoid anything but fish.

“Are you going to come in?” Hermione asked cheekily.

“No,” said Severus.

“Suit yourself,” she said, floating by on her back and sneaking looks at Severus’ expression.

Severus watched Hermione float on her back and sighed contentedly. She certainly was a pretty girl, if infuriating at times.

On the other hand, if she weren’t so infuriating, she wouldn’t be running through his mind half as much as she did.

She watched as he disrobed, and began giggling hysterically as he entered the water.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded as he swam and wrapped his arms around her. She had an enchanting way of squirming in his arms when she laughed.

She wrapped her legs around him and put her hands on his shoulders. “I thought you didn’t want to come in.”

Severus growled suddenly and let go of her, effectively dunking her.

Hermione came up spluttering and resembling a wet sheepdog.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked between coughs.

He brushed the hair out of her face and patted her on the back. As his hand went by her face, she saw a skull and snake etched into his skin of his left forearm.

She grabbed his hand and stared at the burn.

“It looks like it was branded into you,” Hermione said, her fingertips hovering above the mark as if she wanted to touch it.

“It was,” said Severus stiffly. “It only comes back when it’s activated.”

Hermione looked at the crinkled skin.

“Why does it look fresh?” Hermione asked sharply.

“It’s frozen in stasis,” said Severus, dipping it under the water. “Hidden inside the body and when the spell is woven, it ‘wakes up’ as it were. I think we should get back in the house. Just to be safe.”

Hermione looked up and failed to see anything unusual.

They climbed on the carpet with just their cloaks wrapped around them and flew back to the manor.

“Cherv! Secure the manor!” Severus barked at the little elf as they landed.

His eyes grew wide and he scampered into the house. Immediately all the shutters slammed shut. The back door slammed and disappeared as soon as they were inside.

Hermione followed Severus through the house, listening to the fortifications fall into place in and around the manor. They quickly went down to the basement and his laboratory. He pushed on a picture of a Mandrake and Hermione saw a brilliant red fire burning in a cubby hole in the wall.

“This is a direct line to the Order.” Severus explained before he stuck his head in. “Twelve, Grimmauld Place!”

Hermione paced impatiently.

“Hold on,” Severus said indignantly as he pulled his head from the flames. “The Dark Lord is on the loose and he says, ‘hold on.'”

“Who?” asked Hermione.

“Lupin,” said Severus, his lips pressed thin. “Dumbledore is off somewhere, and no other news has arrived.”

A small silver bell started ringing somewhere nearby, and a small glass orb on a shelf began glowing orange.

She watched as the little color Severus had drained from his face.

“What’s going on?” asked Hermione, her voice quivering.

“The Ministry’s under attack.”

Chapter

“What the bloody hell is going on!” Severus thundered, his head submerged in the Floo box.

Hermione waited while he was silent, as if he was listening to a reply.

“Well, I figured that out, Remus,” Severus said angrily. “Do you have anything to add to that observation?”

“Stop it,” she hissed at him. He threw a dirty look at her.

Severus stared into the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and fixed Remus Lupin with a stare that would melt steel.

“My orb had been orange for a total of seven seconds, Severus,” said Lupin, visibly panicked. “I don’t know more than you. Just be prepared to receive casualties, if needed.”

Severus nodded sharply. At least it gave them something to do.

He pulled his head back in his laboratory and turned to look at Hermione.

She was bristling like a wet cat. The state of her damp, windblown hair didn’t help. She had hastily donned her Muggle clothing and was clutching her wand, white-knuckled. Her eyes were aflame with rage.

“Heavens, that would make me think twice,” said Severus as he looked her up and down, an eyebrow raised.

“It isn’t funny!” shouted Hermione angrily.

Severus took a step back.

“Your friend isn’t out there, part of some stupid prophecy out to wreck his life before it started!”

“I lost friends in the first war as well, Hermione,” Severus said in a deadly calm voice. “They weren’t all Death Eaters. Now, I suggest we follow the measly orders we were given.”

Hermione swallowed hard and nodded. She slipped her wand into a long pouch she had hung on her belt, turned abruptly, and marched out of the laboratory.

Severus rolled his eyes and sighed. She didn’t even know their orders yet.

---

Hermione knew exactly what was to be done. She ran out of the ice tower and down the drawbridge, several Amazonian archers were with her. They were scanning the sky, bows at the ready.

“What’s wrong?” Dumbledore asked sharply as he stood.

“Ministry!” Hermione gasped out. “Attack!”

“I’m going,” Alexandra said abruptly, rising to her feet.

Sophia looked alarmed.

“We have sworn a feud with the Dark One as well,” Alexandra reminded her stubbornly.

Sophia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You will be missed greatly if you are killed.”

“I have to say goodbye to Kari,” said Alexandra excitedly, running up the drawbridge.

Hermione followed so she could return to Severus through the Floo.

Dumbledore looked as if he were going to argue, but shook his head and Apparated with a loud ‘pop’ instead.

Sophia stood on the drawbridge, alone.

---

Severus paced in front of the ballroom fireplace, biting his nails. Idiot wife.

Flames burst up in the fireplace and Hermione walked through the flames with a pretty blonde girl in a yellow toga behind her.

“Hello,” said Kari, holding her hand out to him. “I will be hiding here until things calm down.”

“Kari can be tracked to the Tower by her bloodline, and we don’t know who her father is,” Hermione said breathlessly. “The location must be kept safe.”

As Hermione made introductions, the flames crackled and Charlie Weasley’s head appeared in the fireplace.

“They stormed in and there was nothing we could do to stop them!” said Charlie, half-shouting.

“The Death Eaters?” Hermione asked, panic stricken.

“No! Ron, Harry, Neville and the others!” Charlie yelled, nearly hysterical, obviously distracted by some local pandemonium. “It’s all we can do to keep Mum under control. She’s gone completely mad!”

Hermione took a deep breath.

“I have to go,” she said, pulling her wand out and appearing to ready herself to walk into the flames.

“I don’t think so,” snorted Severus, grabbing her arm.

“You can’t stop me!” Hermione shouted at him.

“I most certainly can!” Severus said, drawing himself up to his full height and fixing her with a steely glare.

“It’s my duty to go!” Hermione yelled, ignoring his posturing.

“It’s not your prophecy, Hermione,” Severus said sharply. “You don’t have to die!”

When he opened his eyes, there was a loud ringing in his ears and his jaw ached. Also, he was on the ground.

He looked up to see Hermione wincing and waving her hand about in pain. She was eighteen years old and only by pulling some strings and she looked so very young.

“I just want you safe. Please,” he pleaded with her.

“I hate to break this up,” said Arthur Weasley, his head popping up in the fire near Charlie’s. “But we’re going to need your help.”

“Anything,” said Hermione, turning around to look at him, her face set in a mask of grim determination.

---

Hermione had never seen a spell of this magnitude before. She sat on a flying carpet before Kebnekaise Mountain in Sweden with a hundred Amazonian archers, all Disillusioned, lined up on flying carpets behind her.

A deafening bird-like scream ripped through the air, and Hermione looked up to see the sky ripple as if something huge was passing overhead.

“What the hell was that?” Hermione blurted out as their carpet rocked in the air.

“Probably K’pluur’s mother,” smirked Severus. “The snow dragon was just a hatchling, you know.”

The side of the mountain rippled, and a large door appeared in its side.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked as Severus shifted uncomfortably.

“They can only be killed by gods, haven’t been a ground for nearly two thousand years, and aren’t rumored to be very polite.” Severus said in a low voice.

“The Jotun…” Hermione rolled the word around in her mouth. Severus could see realization dawning on her. “Are they mad?”

“I’m fairly certain he won’t be showing up,” said Severus testily.

“Severus,” said Hermione warily. “According to legend the Jotun never had problems having children. The last time we saw them was two thousand years ago.”

Severus leaned over to the next carpet with Alexandra and several other archers sitting on it. “Is this a good idea?”

---

Hermione stared at the eight-legged horse flying next to her carpet. She was desperately trying not to stare at the rider on its back, but it seemed to be as fascinated with her as she was with it.

His skin was black and shiny like obsidian, although it moved like normal flesh. His eyes were clouded over like storm clouds; if you watched, you could follow small bolts of lightning through them. His mouth was a toothless yawn of bloody saliva when it opened.

Right now, his mouth was closed, and his lips pursed in thought. His dark hair was intertwined with small black adders, slithering about.

The Jotun were shape-shifters, and if Hermione didn’t know better, she would have thought they were all different species.

Some had more than one head. Some were fair, others dark. Some no bigger than a cat, some huge. A covered figure let her veil slip, and Hermione was stunned into awe by the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

The Jotun wove a strange magic that Hermione didn’t understand, and the air rippled. They flew their carpets through a ring of blue fire that blossomed in the sky, and found themselves in London.

Hermione had never seen or imagined anything like it.

The Ministry had been blown apart, leaving a wide, gaping maw of splintered bits of wood, steel, and concrete where the Muggle buildings above once were.

Muggles were running through the streets screaming. Small fires burned here and there, and firefighters had to fight the panicked crowds to get to them.

The Jotun barely had to do anything but growl, and hundreds of Death Eaters began breaking formations in terror.

The few Death Eaters that took to the air seemingly vanished into nothingness, followed by loud crunching noises and the occasional wail.

Hermione was relieved to see Ron unconscious on the ground, a broken flowerpot by his head. She breathed out a sigh of relief.

She searched desperately for any sign of anyone she knew in the ruins. They could be anywhere. How many levels were there, anyway?

A hole melted in the floor of the entrance hall and Death Eaters began flying out on their broomsticks in organized ranks to attack. They were met with a volley of ebony arrows. As they reached their targets, they encapsulated them in a clear, pink, glowing egg. The prisoners’ wands and brooms were sucked from the egg and expelled, clattering to the ground.

Hermione watched as the pink capsules fell from the sky, wands and brooms raining down into the wreckage.

Hermione was disappointed to feel her carpet fall back behind the action.

“What are we doing?” Hermione demanded.

“Apparating,” said Severus grimly as he raised his wand and grabbed her arm.

Hermione and Severus appeared near Ron, and she assessed his wounds. Just a bump on the head. She saw his wand near him and put it in his hand, so he could find it if he woke up.

Severus was dodging a curse from a small Death Eater and slipping behind a bust of Lothar the Lucky.

“Petrificus Totallus,” said Hermione with a swish of her wand, and the figure fell to the floor.

“Thank you,” said Severus, brushing the marble powder from his clothing. He walked to the figure and ripped the mask off.

Hermione was startled to see the face of a young boy behind the mask.

“Second year,” Severus sneered, kicking the boy aside. He marched to the melted hole in the floor and looked down.

They found Neville in a room full of Pensieves with locked covers.

“Crucio!” Neville screamed, and a Death Eater’s back bowed violently.

“Neville!” Hermione cried out as she ran to him.

Bellatrix Lestrange panted and her fingers convulsed as they scrabbled at the floor. A thin line of drool fell from her mouth and pooled on her robes.

Neville shrieked madly as he raised his wand again.

“Accio wand,” Hermione heard a calm voice behind her.

Neville’s wand flew past her ear, and she heard it ‘thwap’ into a hand near her.

“I think that’s enough, Mr. Longbottom,” said Severus sternly.

The fury drained out of Neville’s face, and he stood, shaking and pale, before them. He threw up.

“Professor?” Neville whispered. His eyes were dilated.

“He’s in shock,” said Severus, moving to him slowly.

“We’ve got you,” Hermione reached out for him and he took her hand.

They could hear fighting deep within the bowels of the Ministry. The Jotun were efficient.

There was a low rumble growing under them, and the floor began to shake. She looked at Severus, who was examining Neville.

Just then, a wave of green energy vibrated up through the floorboards and hit them like a freight train.

The world went dark.

Chapter

The spell had been born deep in the bowels of the Ministry where Harry and Voldemort ended it all. The backlash knocked people unconscious for miles.

Wild magic was unpredictable, after all.

Voldemort’s lifeless body was found near Harry’s unconscious form and was in storage in Gringotts.

Harry had yet to regain consciousness. He had gained the slit pupils of a snake, and his scar had spread, splitting his face.

He was in a padded room surrounded by Aurors, bound to the table he rested on, and occasionally letting out small bursts of wild magic.

Lily’s magic had been stronger than anyone imagined.

Ginny lost the little finger on her right hand. She gained a blue scar in the shape of Italy.

Fudge and many members of the Ministry were killed in the attack.

Mrs. Weasley managed to keep Percy, Fred, George and Arthur busy trying to subdue her, and they never saw combat. She would look back in her later years and be terribly pleased with herself.

Ron had regained consciousness the same day as the attack, and had been waiting in St. Mungo’s for them to wake for weeks. His arguments were weak and unenthusiastic at best when he confronted Severus. His heart wasn’t in it anymore.

Bellatrix LeStrange lost her mind. She was placed in the same ward as the Longbottoms and for the first time, Alice Longbottom raised one finger, pointed, and cackled dryly. Her healers said it was the most progress she had made in years.

Neville was still unconscious. His grandmother sat by his side every day telling him how proud of him she was. Sometimes Alice sat with her.

The captured Death Eaters were being kept in a secret location so they could be tried.

The Amazons had lost thirteen girls. Alexandra had boasted she had encapsulated seven Death Eaters and drove four more to death by dragon.

The Jotun had asked for the unclaimed dead. The few Ministry that were left had granted them their request and had asked no questions.

The black skinned warrior that rode near Hermione and Severus gave Alexandra a pendant for Hermione. He said it would assist her in her journey and it was hers by birthright.

Alexandra had been glad when they retreated into their mountain and the door had disappeared. She knew better than to open a box not meant for her and gave it to her father.

---

Hermione woke in St. Mungo’s. Her head felt sluggish and her bed was surrounded with a white curtain, blocking her view from the rest of the room. She groaned.

“I think we’ve got another one,” Hermione heard an unfamiliar female voice outside her confines.

The curtain was whipped back, and Hermione saw a wide-faced blonde healer standing by her bed.

“Don’t try to move, dear,” said the healer, taking Hermione’s wrist and feeling her pulse.

“Where—” Hermione whispered out of her lips. Her mouth felt dry, as if she hadn’t talked in a while.

“Don’t you worry.” The healer fluffed Hermione’s pillow under her head gently. “Just save your strength.”

Hermione rested her head on the pillow behind her and closed her eyes.

“Am I a widow?” she asked, her voice cracking.

The healer was silent. Hermione opened her eyes and looked at her.

The healer glanced quickly behind her. She shuddered.

“No dear,” she said as if she felt very sorry for her. “He woke last week.”

Hermione let out her held breath.

She recognized his voice on the other side of the door. There were other beds in her room. She wondered who was in them.

Severus opened the door to the ward and Hermione’s eyes were open. She was smiling weakly at him.

He took three large steps that covered the distance between them and took her hand in his. He pressed her hand to his forehead as he knelt by her bed. He gently dabbed at his eyes with her sleeve and when they rose to hers, they were dry.

“I thought I might die without you,” Severus said hoarsely, pressing her hand to his chest. She reached up with her other hand and caressed his cheek. She pulled him to her, and he kissed her gently on the lips, afterwards taking both her hands and kissing each of her knuckles carefully.

There was a loud sniffle behind Severus, and he turned to see the blonde healer and another healer near her snuffling behind their charts. He glared at them. The blonde healer busied herself by scuttling to one of the covered beds, and the other all but ran out of the room.

“I’ve really got to learn how you do that,” said Hermione softly and trying not to laugh. It hurt too much.

“No,” he said. “You’ll do it to me.”

“Of course, I would.” She closed her eyes and rested back on her pillow.

Ron walked into the ward and Hermione’s face lit up. She winced.

He sat on the other side of the bed and took her other hand. “You look a wreck.”

“I’ve been here for weeks,” Hermione croaked. “At least it sounds like it. Why haven’t I been healed?”

“You got hit with an experimental potion,” said Ron excitedly. “They didn’t know if healing would complicate things.”

Hermione frowned at this and turned to look at Severus.

“You can photosynthesize,” explained Severus. “It’ll wear off eventually, but you got hit with the full cauldron. It’s only supposed to be taken a few drops at a time.

“You were really green, and your eyebrows looked like grass. Wish I’d thought to have Colin take a picture.” Ron looked excited.

Severus looked incredulous, but Hermione laughed along with him.

“I hope they were smart enough to take notes.”

“I ran tests myself,” Severus said, wiping the tears trying to seep out of his eyes. Weasley had seen him break down several times in the last week, but he didn’t want Hermione to see him like this. “I kept careful notes. You’ll find them very interesting.”

A brown-haired healer with a thick German accent bustled in and told them it was time for Hermione to rest. She should not overtax herself. Severus tried to protest but the healer finally shooed them from the room.

---

Hermione recovered within the week, and found herself back in their quarters at Hogwarts after a trip to France and some time with their parents.

“Your friend has awakened,” Helga announced as Hermione left her room. Helga’s mirror had been returned to Severus’ quarters.

“Which friend?” Hermione asked.

“The Potter boy,” said Helga.

“How is he?” Hermione asked nervously.

“Alive,” said Helga grimly. “Phineas is reporting to Dumbledore as he finds out information.”

“How does it look?” said Hermione nervously.

“I would not hazard a guess,” admitted Helga.

“We’ll meet you in the office,” said Hermione as she turned to get Severus.

---

Severus and Hermione practically ran through the halls of Hogwarts, including through several hidden passages not included on the Marauders Map.

“Key-Lime Truffle,” Severus boomed at the gryphon guarding Dumbledore’s office.

Dumbledore sat in his office, the frame of Phineas Nigellus levitated near his desk so he may talk to him with ease. His fingers were steepled and glasses rested on the end of his nose. His eyes moved as Hermione and Severus entered his room, but he didn’t turn from the empty frame.

Severus sat down in a chair in front of the desk and Hermione chose the one next to him. They sat in silence. Hermione stared at her hands, folded in her lap and just wished someone would say something.

Phineas finally reappeared in his frame and gave a distasteful look to Dumbledore.

“The boy seems to be, in fact, the boy,” said Phineas with a sniff.

“Thank you, Phineas,” said Dumbledore, rising from his seat. It was best they go to see it firsthand. The Ministry needed all the help it could get.

---

“Hermione!” Harry smiled weakly.

Severus stood behind her with a hand on her shoulder.

Harry looked frightful. His scar cleaved his face in two. His slitted eyes were the same bright green they had always been, at her from sockets that crinkled at the corners in a familiar way. Hermione couldn’t help but think back on the prophecy.

When the mark of thunder shines upon one
One with fathers taken twice shall rise into the light
Plunging darkness into he will fall
Within him power will grow
Two paths here are laid
Light and Dark will be inside
Cleaving one into two
The answer lies with the givers of life
To show the path
Under the sea

How are you feeling?” asked Hermione tentatively as she approached the bed. The bonds she had heard about were gone, but Aurors still stood guard out of the room.

“Tired,” said Harry. “My brain feels slow.”

Hermione sat next to the bed nervously. Severus stood near the door, arms folded, watching them.

“Has anyone told you anything?” asked Hermione, hoping that was a vague enough question.

“I killed him,” said Harry, letting his head fall back on his pillow. His eyes closed and he looked serene. “It’s finally over. I don’t know how… there were creatures there…”

Hermione reached out and took his hand. It was easier with his eyes closed.

“Now you’re really a hero, Harry,” said Hermione, quirking a corner of her mouth at him.

He barely lifted his eyelids at her and grinned cynically. “Nice to be able to live up to it for a change.”

Severus snorted from the doorway.

“Well, you’ll always have people to keep your head from swelling,” said Hermione shooting Severus a look.

Harry chuckled.

“Now, what’s so funny?” asked Hermione gently, as she brushed a wild lock of hair out of his eyes.

“You two,” Harry said.

“How did everyone find out?” Hermione demanded. “I mean-,”

“The elves told Charlie,” said Harry. “He had to tell Mundungus.”

“Mundungus?” Hermione said confused.

“Well, he was the one running the betting pool,” said Harry, laughing and suddenly regretting it as he winced in pain.

Hermione was appalled. If Harry wasn’t in such a state, she would have been shaking him.

“There was a pool?” Hermione managed to squeak out.

“Who won?” asked Severus curiously.

“Fred and George,” said Harry.

Severus sniffed.

“You’re all disgusting,” said Hermione, folding her arms.

“I didn’t bet,” said Harry. “And Ron didn’t even know. No one thought it would really happen.”

“What do you remember, Potter?” Severus asked evenly.

“Well, we’d all had a bit of wine—”

“At the Ministry!” Hermione clarified.

Harry took a breath and acted like he was trying the best way to word things.

“We locked wands and Voldemort tried to get in my head,” said Harry. “We fought.” Harry was silent for a time. “I won.”

They knew that was the only explanation they would be given.

“Potter, have you seen a mirror?” asked Severus.

“A mirror?” asked Harry, confused. “Why would anyone give me a mirror?”

“Your scar grew,” said Severus.

“Well, I’m a hero,” said Harry, feeling like he could rest for the first time in years. Feeling exceptionally brave enough to be snarky to Snape. “I don’t have to be pretty.”

“And your eyes, Harry…” hazarded Hermione.

Harry reached up to realize he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“What happened?” said Harry. His face went blank. “Oh, that makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Severus asked warily, taking a step forward.

“The knowledge of Abraxas would change my appearance, and I am a parselmouth, aren’t I?” asked Harry.

Severus shifted uncomfortably.

“Knowledge would be enough to change your appearance?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide.

“This knowledge would,” said Harry placing his hand on the side of his head.

The door to Harry’s ward opened and Dumbledore walked in, followed by Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Arthur tried not to show anything in his face, but a muscle in his jaw twitched.

“Hello,” said Harry, trying to sit up. “Where’s Ron?”

“In the waiting room with the rest of the family,” said Dumbledore. Worry lines creased his forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” said Harry. “Groggy.”

“The family reunion can wait for another day,” declared Arthur. “You’ve been through too much for today.”

“He’s right,” Hermione said before Harry could protest. “Sleep now.”

Harry scrunched his face at her and laid his head back onto his pillow.

“You’ll thank her later,” said Kingsley.

A healer came into the room with a gold potion bottle. Severus stopped him and sniffed the contents. The healer was affronted, but allowed the intrusion. Severus nodded and the healer gave Harry the potion. He fell into a relaxed, dopy state.

“We’ll see you later, Harry,” said Hermione, smiling at him in a way she hoped looked normal.

“I promise to be more awake tomorrow,” said Harry sleepily.

“Of course, you will,” reassured Hermione.

---

Molly Weasley spooned chowder into the long line of bowls running along the counter in number twelve Grimmauld place.

Since the destruction of the Ministry, Grimmauld Place had been used as a place for Aurors to gather information, rest, eat, and plan reconstruction of their department.

The Aurors had been a great help in finally getting the place clean and the dark objects removed or destroyed. Some of the items were in observation where the Department of Mysteries had been temporarily located. It had been very convenient for all involved.

“I’ll serve them, Molly,” Remus Lupin said, taking two of the bowls from the counter. “You sit down. You’ve already done more than your share.”

When Lupin put her bowl in front of her, she ate silently.

Tonks slipped into the room and took a seat beside Molly.

“How’s Harry?” Lupin asked.

“Awake and talking to Dumbledore,” said Tonks. “Harry’s seen a mirror.”

“And?” Lupin asked, raising an eyebrow as he placed a bowl in front of Tonks.

“He seemed to take it well,” said Tonks shrugging. “You never can tell.”

Lupin nodded as he laid a basket of bread on the table and other Aurors filed into the room.

There was a ‘woosh’ of green flame and Hermione and Severus walked through the fireplace.

“Harry’s awake and about,” said Tonks.

“How is he?” said Hermione as a witch in bright green robes bustled her way past to get her meal.

“Feeling much better,” said Tonks, waving to a handsome middle-aged blonde wizard in dark blue robes as he grabbed a bowl and left the room. “He’s up and talking to Dumbledore.”

“Any on what happened to him?” asked Severus, getting jostled by an ancient little wizard in orange robes trying to balance four bowls of chowder on a tray for people elsewhere in the house.

“As far as we can tell, Voldemort’s brain collapsed during battle,” said Tonks. “Harry got all his memories and knowledge.”

“What?” whispered Molly, looking up from her chowder and staring at Tonks horrified.

“Voldemort’s not hiding in him,” said Tonks quickly. “Dumbledore did the examination himself. Harry said it was like watching a movie in fast-forward. His whole body turned into a pensive.”

Hermione collapsed onto the bench across from Molly and Tonks. The green-robed witch sat beside her and ate quickly.

“He’ll be alright,” said the Auror between mouthfuls of chowder. “Listened to some of the interviews. Very informative. We’ll learn a lot from him.”

Molly stirred her chowder absent-mindedly.

“He was born to do this, Molly,” Lupin reminded her, handing her a hunk of bread. “Nothing we could have done. We tried, you know.”

Molly nodded and nibbled at the bread. Hermione reached across the table and squeezed Molly’s hand. Molly didn’t look up, but clutched at it.

Green flames leapt in the hearth and all of them turned to look at Dumbledore as he entered the kitchen. No one said a word.

“I’ve never seen all of you so glum,” said Dumbledore, a tired smile playing around his lips. “The war is over. Harry will recover. He can see visitors tomorrow.”

“I’m sure we can manage to hold it together,” said Hermione firmly before anyone else could say anything.

Molly tiredly nodded in agreement.

---

The Ministry was taking Harry’s condition very seriously.

Molly, Arthur and Dumbledore were in Harry’s room. Hermione, Severus and Ron sat in the private waiting room. They had been in there nearly thirty minutes and Ron was beginning to fidget.

The door finally swung open. Molly looked pale, but looked satisfied.

“He’s going to be all right,” she breathed as her fingers clutched at the handle of her handbag.

“You can go in and see him now,” said Dumbledore. “I’m sure he’d appreciate seeing someone normal, for a change.”

Molly gave him a look, but Hermione and Ron practically leapt to their feet and ran to Harry’s door.

Hermione stopped Ron with a hand on his arm before he charged in. He stopped in his tracks. She looked at him and he took a deep breath before opening the door calmly.

Severus watched as Hermione and Ron quietly entered the room.

“Hello, Harry,” Hermione said as the door closed softly behind them.

“Well?” Severus asked the others, steeling himself for anything.

“He has all the Dark Lords’ knowledge,” said Molly, brusquely. “He’s lucky to be alive.”

“Indeed,” said Severus nodding, his eyebrows raised. He was surprised the boy wasn’t mad.

“But it is Harry,” said Arthur shaking his head. “Horrible burden for a boy to bear.”

“Harry has done more than most lifetimes ever see,” said Dumbledore. “If he travels the right path, he’ll become a very wise man.”

No one could think of anything to say.

---

“Wow, Harry,” said Ron, impressed at Harry’s new and improved scar.

“The healers say they’re working on it,” said Harry. “But I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

“You thought people stared at you before,” Ron mused.

“Ron!” Hermione said sharply.

“He’s right, you know,” said Harry quietly as he set down the hand mirror he had been holding. His light blue pajamas looked rumpled and a stack of Ron’s comic books sat near the bed.

“You’ll probably never be able to return to the Muggle world,” said Hermione softly.

“I know,” said Harry. “I don’t know if that upsets me or not.”

“Wouldn’t be that upset if I was you,” snorted Ron.

“Why is that?” Hermione asked curiously.

“A scout for the Hornets was in the Ministry the day of the attack trying to get a Floo connection for his new house,” said Ron excitedly. “Saw you on your broom, Harry. He was really impressed.”

“What did you do on your broom?” Hermione asked.

“Well there was air battle getting in,” said Harry, shrugging.

“’Bit of air battle?’” asked Ron incredulously. “It was some of the best flying I’ve ever seen. You should have been there, Hermione!”

“You’re lucky you’re such a good flyer,” said Hermione, finally snapping. “I can’t believe you just ran off to do this yourselves. It was stupid and thoughtless of you!” Her stern tone had risen in pitch and was approaching a screech.

Dumbledore opened the door to Harry’s room to see what the commotion was. Hermione shot him a look and he backed out.

Ron looked worried.

“Hermione-,” Harry began.

“Don’t you start!” Hermione boomed. “You could have gotten killed, or worse! You should have waited for the others.”

“They never would have let us go—” protested Ron.

“With good reason!” yelled Hermione. “What if the Death Eaters had gotten hold of Harry?”

“Well, they didn’t,” said Harry, raising the eyebrows over those green serpentine eyes of his.

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” Hermione said testily.

Ron threw his hands up behind her and she wheeled around on him. He stepped back and stumbled into a chair.

“And you,” Hermione began. In Ron’s eyes she seemed to get bigger than she really was. Her nostrils flared. “You should have known better, of all people.”

“What, ‘of all people?'” Ron exploded back at her. His fingers were white clenching the arms of his chair. “You weren’t here, Hermione. It was pandemonium! No one could organize, the Ministry was in pieces, Dumbledore was missing—” Ron rattled out.

“I know,” said Hermione guiltily.

“Where was he?” Harry asked.

Hermione hesitated.

“Oh, come on, Hermione,” Ron persisted. “It’s all over now.”

“It may not be,” said Hermione. “The Amazons have an obscure prophecy that might apply.”

“How many prophecies can one person have about them?” Ron asked, looking at Harry.

Harry shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I’d rather there are no prophecies about me at all.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione said. “But you idiots had me so worried and I was so far away…”

“How was Russia?” asked Harry.

“Oh, you don’t want to hear about my trip.” Hermione waved him off.

“Of course, I do,” said Harry. “It will be a normal subject. Maybe you’ll even stop yelling.”

She made a face and told him.

“His mother sounds desperate for grandchildren,” laughed Harry. “Be careful if you don’t want a brood.”

“I don’t think it would be a practical time to start a family.” Hermione shook her head. “I mean, if one were to happen.”

“You haven’t even talked about it?” Ron asked, incredulously.

“We haven’t been… intimate for that long,” Hermione said, embarrassed. “I’ve known you for years and I don’t know how many kids you want.”

“None,” Ron said.

“None?” Hermione and Harry echoed.

“I’m sure I’ll have plenty of nice nieces and nephews to entertain me,” said Ron. “Then I can give them back.”

“I’d like a couple, maybe,” said Harry thoughtfully. “Although I’m not sure who’d be with me now.”

“Don’t say that, Harry,” said Hermione. " I can think of someone.”

“Yea,” said Ron. “If you aren’t married to Ginny by the time you’re thirty, the Ministry’ll get you a wife. She might even be nice.”

“Ron!” Hermione said, shocked.

“I’m sure that’s going to be one of the first things to go,” Harry laughed. “A lot of things at the Ministry are about to change.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Hermione said. “Mr. Weasley has been working really hard. There’s talk he may become Minister of Magic.”

“My dad?” Ron asked, stunned. “Minister of Magic?”

“Well there’s not many from the Ministry left, are there?” Hermione asked. “Many remember Fudge trying to discredit your father when he wanted to get prepared for the Dark Lord.”

“Your dad’s a hero, Ron,” said Harry.

“Wow,” said Ron, looking surprised and proud. “Might get some respect out of this after all.”

“We’ve always respected you,” said Hermione softly. He grinned at her and hugged her back when she flung herself in his lap and threw her arms around him.

“I leave for two minutes and I find you in the arms of another,” came a cold voice from the doorway.

“Stop doing that!” Hermione demanded.

“Hermione, Ron, can you please leave us?” Harry said in a strange voice. “Severus and I should have a talk.”

“Of course,” said Hermione awkwardly.

Hermione and Ron rose to leave the room.

“Want us to smuggle you anything, Harry?” Ron asked.

“Chocolate frogs, if they have any,” said Harry. “There should be money in the drawer over there. Get whatever you want.”

Ron rustled in the drawer and came up with a heavy leather purse that jingled.

“Thanks, Harry,” said Hermione. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

Ron and Hermione left with a soft click of the door.

Severus turned and looked at the face split by a lightning scar. The slit pupils of his eyes narrowed even further.

Severus looked into the eyes of his two greatest fears rolled into one. He could do several things. He chose the honest way for the sake of his wife. He told the truth.

“I love her.”

Harry looked at Severus as if for the first time. “You must. I remember everything that ever happened in Tom’s life.”

Severus looked at Harry quizzically and sat down in the chair next to the bed.

“Tom?” Severus asked.

“No matter how much power he got and what titles he gave himself he always thought of himself as Tom,” said Harry rubbing his forehead and the area between his eyes. “He hated himself for it.”

“It-,” Severus started. “Your knowledge must be-”

“You have no idea.”

“I have a small idea.”

“You-,” began Harry fumbling for words. “Are a brave man.”

“Thank you,” said Severus sincerely.

“Take care of Hermione,” Harry said. “If you don’t, I will be displeased.”

Severus shivered for the second time that day.

“I will.”

---

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Ron asked Hermione. They were walking back from the cafeteria, clutching bags full of vending machine candy and sandwiches.

“Probably about Severus’ time as a Death Eater,” said Hermione. “I wonder if Harry can activate the Dark Mark.”

“Do you know about Severus’ past?” Ron asked.

“Not a lot,” Hermione admitted.

“Aren’t you curious?” Ron asked.

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Hermione admitted. “I’ve already seen his library. That’s enough for now.”

Ron suddenly stopped in front of a door. Hermione looked through the window to see what he was staring at.

A stuffed vulture perched on a witch’s hat. It bobbed as the witch talked. It didn’t look as if anyone was sitting up and talking back to her. Hermione looked at Ron and he looked at her guiltily.

Hermione pushed the door open and the witch turned around.

“Hello, Mrs. Longbottom,” said Ron as he and Hermione walked into the room.

“Hello, children,” said Mrs. Longbottom. Hermione mused they’d be grandparents and Mrs. Longbottom would still be calling them children.

“How’s Neville?” Ron asked and was instantly sorry. He winced.

“Still sleeping,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “He did have a shock. It will probably take him longer than you did to come around.”

“Probably,” Hermione said forcing herself to smile.

“They say he can hear people when they talk to him,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “You should say hello.”

Hermione forced Ron to walk forward and go around to the foot of the bed. Neville lay motionless on white sheets. His face was thinner than she remembered it ever being. His pajamas looked crisp and new, and his hair was freshly combed.

“Heya, Neville,” Hermione said cheerfully. “We miss you.”

“We sure do,” said Ron. “Harry beat you in waking up. You need to catch up.”

Mrs. Longbottom beamed at them.

“I keep telling him he managed to avenge his parents,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “I don’t know if he understands yet.”

“I’m sure he does,” Hermione said softly. “I was there.”

Mrs. Longbottom’s smile seemed frozen for a second, but she nodded at Hermione.

“Good,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “He was very fond of you. If he’d been of age, he’d have petitioned for you himself.”

“He’s always thoughtful of others,” said Hermione awkwardly.

“That’s our boy,” said Mrs. Longbottom proudly. “Just like his father.”

Ron smiled and nodded politely.

“Look at the time!” Mrs. Longbottom exclaimed. “If I want to see Frank and Alice I have to get going.”

Hermione and Ron said their good-byes to Mrs. Longbottom and Neville; then quickly left the ward.

“Well, that was creepy,” muttered Ron walking quickly along a corridor. Hermione had to quicken her pace to keep up.

“Most of her family is here, Ron,” said Hermione. “I can’t imagine how she holds it together.”

Ron was quiet while they made their way back to Harry’s ward.

Book 2: Mystery

Harry left the hospital soon after the doctors were convinced he was a danger to no one.

Sirius Black had left Grimmauld place, his money, and his possessions to Harry in his will. With the arrival of Harry’s birthday, the title and deed were transferred to him. Narcissa Malfoy was furious and was contesting Harry’s claim to what she insisted was her family home and fortune. Perhaps she was upset at the death of her husband and capture of her son during the raid at the Ministry.

Her upset turned to fury when Draco decided to testify against the followers of Voldemort.

Harry soon moved into his new house and honestly, seemed lonely after the Aurors moved back to the rebuilt Ministry. Grimmauld Place had been completely scourged of all charms and spells. Any protections were standard, although Harry could add any of his own. He started the day he moved in.

The magical items that were safe were kept; others were taken elsewhere or disposed of. Harry was compensated with a large amount of gold and the thanks of the Department of Mysteries.

The scout from the Hornets began hounding Harry shortly after he had moved in, but Harry decided he needed time before settling himself in a career. Especially one so public, looking the way he did.

Reporters bothered him constantly and he was pelted with owls at all hours.

Harry had been offered house-elves from some of the older wizarding families as a token of their thanks. With help from Hermione he assured them of a steady wage and time off to pursue other hobbies. For some of the elves that meant doing work in a different part of the house.

Hermione was frustrated, but took Severus’ advice and finally gave up. Harry was impressed.

Harry even negotiated a contract for an enthusiastic young elf on behalf of the Weasleys and Molly finally got extra help around the house. She nearly cried.

Arthur pointed out that most of the children were out of the house and she seized on the opportunity to proclaim she had retired, and it was someone else’s turn.

Dobby accepted Hermione’s invitation to visit the Snape estate in St. Petersburg, before the school year started. Soon after, he wrote to Professor Dumbledore requesting vacation time he had saved up.

When Dumbledore asked Hermione about it, she just smiled and said Dobby had so much to entertain himself, he probably wanted to make the most of his trip. Dumbledore had looked at her suspiciously, but approved Dobby’s request.

Hermione still didn’t know whether she wanted a Ministry position anymore. She didn’t want to be apart from Severus, so she took a temporary peer counselling position at Hogwarts.

To Hermione’s surprise Dumbledore had also hired a former Slytherin, Blaise Zabini to be a councilor as well. Hermione vaguely remembered the Slytherin, although they had shared classes. He was a thin young man of medium height. His hair was cut unevenly, as if he had done it himself. His skin had an ashen pallor to it and his dull brown eyes blinked slowly.

Now that the war was over and they were out of school, Hermione was pleased to find Blaise was shy and intelligent. She also noticed he never wore green or black, although he wore a silver pin with a snake on it. She never asked why.

Unfortunately, some of Hermione’s friends were still students, and they wanted to pop by at all hours. Most of the time they showed up when they were supposed to be in class and just wanted the afternoon off. Hermione turned them all away, annoyed they were wasting her time. After she had taken thirty points from Gryffindor they finally stopped.

Some of the First Years, away from their parents for the first time, suffered from incredible nightmares, and the house-elves reported an occasional bed wetting to Hermione. She often found herself summoned out of bed in the middle of the night to talk to a hysterical student.

Blaise found himself more often summoned to the hospital wing. He very nearly lost his nerve after they had found the first suicide attempt. He came back to the office he and Hermione shared covered in blood. He had calmly made a cup of tea and stared into the fire until it was nearly time for dinner. Hermione had given him a biscuit and he offered her a single small smile. It looked as if it pained him. The girl survived.

Madam Pince was thankful for the assistance. If Hermione and Blaise hadn’t stepped in, it would all fall to her in addition to her normal duties as healer of Hogwarts.

Severus had started out the year with his ‘bottle fame, brew glory’ speech, much to the annoyance of Hermione and Professor McGonagall who happened to be passing his room as he started his first class of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Professor McGonagall fixed Hermione with a withering look and Hermione had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing.

Neville had woken a few weeks after the school year. He walked with a noticeable limp and talked much slower than he usually did. Ron commented that his father thought this was because Neville had become more focused, not because he was damaged. Neville had already written to the Ministry about information on their Auror program.

Mrs. Longbottom had showed up at the Ministry while construction was still going on, demanding to speak to whoever was in charge. She demanded Neville be hailed as a hero publicly and her family be noted for their dedication to the cause. Mr. Weasley, who was in charge although no one was using the title ‘Minister,’ agreed and decided to boost morale by throwing a celebration for the battle heroes with a special part of it dedicated to the Longbottoms. It would be covered extensively by both the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler.

Luna Lovegood was her father’s top reporter, and the only person to get an interview with Harry Potter. Mostly, because she let him write the questions and he edited it with her. It talked extensively about his disfigurement, but there was no picture.

Mrs. Weasley was rapturously proud of her husband and joked he had become the nations ‘Arthur.’ Dumbledore was still peppered by owls a dozen times a day but unlike Fudge, Arthur seemed to pay attention to Dumbledore’s replies and the owls soon stopped arriving so rapidly.

Remus Lupin had been granted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. After some new changes at the Ministry it became much easier for him to get a job, if the proper precautions were taken. His students quickly warmed up to him and he was freely able to discuss lycanthropy, its effects, and how to avoid it happening to you.

Hermione was delighted to find Remus’ quarters were somewhat near hers and invited him to join the scavenger hunt for charmed items in her room. Severus wasn’t pleased at the intrusion, but rather than argue with Hermione he retreated to his room and bound it with a silencing charm.

Hermione had finally showed Severus the pictures Colin had developed of their quarters. Helga said she vaguely remembered putting charms on the bed at the request of a suitor, but really didn’t remember all the charms on the room anymore, or even who the suitor was.

She did, however, remember he fathered her third child.

The Amazons weren’t interested in the information Harry had gained about Voldemort, but the process used to make the exchange happen. This was their only difference from the other historians, in Harry’s eyes.

Well, and their tendency to send him pretty girls to talk to.

Ginny found herself very popular her Seventh Year. Although she was polite and socialized, she mostly kept to herself. There was no way to hide her missing finger, but the cut was so exact most people didn’t notice. Her scar was covered by her robes. She never talked about the battle.

The Marriage Law was disillusioned after the Ministry was ready to take on new business. Several marriages were annulled, some with the authorities having to step in.

Hermione felt it was inappropriate to comment.

---

“Severus?” Hermione asked tentatively.

Severus lay nude under the sheets near her. He had planned to spend the day fishing off her window ledge, but she had been reading a roll of parchment when he came into her room, only wearing a towel wrapped around her waist and one around her hair. They hadn’t stayed in place for long.

“What?” Severus frowned at her sternly.

“I was just wondering,” began Hermione slowly. “Do you think you’ll ever want children?”

“Do you—want children with me?” His black eyes were fixed on her and he looked very serious.

“Well, you are my husband,” said Hermione sarcastically. “You’re the logical choice.”

“Well,” Severus smirked and laid his head back on his pillow. “I would be, wouldn’t I? At least Hogwarts would have one competent potions student.”

Hermione smacked him and rose from the bed.

“Hermione,” Severus said seriously as he sat up. “I can support a family. I never really planned one, but I never planned on getting married either.” He began pulling his robes back on. He got to his feet and kissed her on the forehead. “I don’t regret getting married.”

Hermione gave him a crooked smile. “Well, not right now,” she said hastily.

“Of course not. Back to work,” Severus said pointing at the piles of research material. “I’ll go get lunch.”

Hermione made a face, but went back to her work.

---

“Hello, Severus,” said Remus Lupin as Severus walked through the portal to the kitchens. “How are the fish biting this fine Sunday?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” said Severus stiffly. No matter how hard he tried he could never really be comfortable in the presence of the werewolf.

Remus chuckled.

“Maybe I should have taken advantage of that law and gotten myself a young wife,” he teased. Severus brushed past him, knowing very well the werewolf would have been rejected by the Ministry, and opened the door to a cooling cupboard.

“More trouble than it’s worth sometimes.” Severus picked a basket off a shelf and placed a couple of apples in it.

“Wearing you out, is she?” Remus grinned wolfishly as he brought a mug to his lips.

“She is not wearing me out!” Severus exploded suddenly. “We are two perfectly capable adults!”

Remus was quiet and appraised Severus for a few moments. He reached into the inside pocket of his robes and brought out a small flask.

Severus poured himself a mug of pumpkin juice and held it out to Remus. Remus poured a healthy dollop of an amber liquid into Severus’ mug. Severus took a deep drink and sat quietly.

“She’s talking about children,” grumbled Severus.

“Right now?” Remus asked, looking mildly surprised.

Severus hesitated. “No. Just generally.”

Remus drank from his mug. “She’s a young bride, Severus. Of course, she’s thinking about babies. All her friends are.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Severus said lifting his mug to his lips.

“I take it you don’t want children, then,” Remus said.

“I—” Severus started awkwardly. “I never thought I’d have the opportunity.”

“It looks as if she’s giving you time to think,” said Remus.

Severus drained his mug and stood up. “Irritating habit.”

---

“What took so long?” Hermione asked as she looked up, her face appearing between stacks of scrolls.

“Lupin was in the kitchens,” said Severus.

“Why didn’t you ask him to join us?” Hermione asked opening the basket and unpacking it.

“I didn’t know if you’d be dressed,” said Severus.

A large black barn owl landed on the open window sill with a scroll attached to a leg. His feathers ruffled loudly at his landing. Severus looked at it and frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked.

Severus shook his head. “That’s a Black family owl. It must be from Harry. It just – surprised me.”

Hermione had never spoken to Severus of Sirius. She wondered if it would be appropriate.

“I wonder where Hedwig is?” Hermione frowned as she walked to the window. To her surprise the handwriting wasn’t Harry’s.

Dear Hermione and Professor Snape,
Harry is holding a secret celebration at his house next weekend. It’s Friday night at 9: PM so you won’t be missed at dinner.
Hope all is well with you.
Sincerely,
Neville

“He just bounces back, doesn’t he?” Severus

shook his head. He was reading over Hermione’s shoulder.

“Must get it from his grandmother,” Hermione said folding the letter. “Are we going?”

Severus sighed. “Are you making me go?”

“I couldn’t fathom making you do something you didn’t want to do,” Hermione said with a grin.

“Good to see you applying that intellect of yours.”

“I will go to a fabulous party and you’ll skulk around the dungeons.”

“Smashing,” said Severus picking his fishing pole up. He kissed her on the cheek and climbed out her window.

---

“Hermione!” Ginny crowed across the room as Hermione stepped through the fireplace into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

Hermione waved at Ginny, not wanting to shout over the noise filling the room. Fred and George ran up to meet her, pumping her arm as they shook her hand and shoving a bottle of Butterbeer at her.

“Where’s that man of yours?” Fred joked.

“You expect him to crawl out of his dungeons to enjoy himself?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.

“A snob is what he is,” said George grinning and shaking his head. “Doesn’t want to sully himself with the presence of us.”

“Heya, Hermione,” an excited voice said behind her. She turned to face Harry.

He looked as if he had been drawn on, and put Muggle contact lenses in. He hugged her heartily.

“How are you, Harry?” Hermione asked, hesitantly.

“Drunk,” said Harry with a solid nod. Hermione looked at the twins and they nodded as well. She sighed.

The flames behind her leapt up green and crackled. She stepped aside as Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall entered the kitchen.

“Well it looks as if the party is already in full swing,” said Dumbledore cheerfully. “Excellent.”

“Where is Severus?” McGonagall asked as if she already knew.

“Holding down the fort,” Hermione snorted.

“He’s left her to us tonight,” said Fred.

“He’s a brave man,” said Dumbledore as he took a Butterbeer from George. He sipped from it, and instantly turned into a small shrub. The bottle fell to the floor and shattered.

“You’re braver to take something from them,” McGonagall remarked raising a single eyebrow at the shrub.

Hermione scowled at her bottle and shoved it back at Fred. He had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Well that was unexpected,” said Luna Lovegood in a dreamy voice as she floated up to them.

“It certainly was,” said Fred scratching his head. “He was supposed to turn into a chicken.”

“Wonder where we went wrong,” said George pulling a notebook out of his robes and jotting down something in it.

Dumbledore reappeared in front of them, his hat askew and tilted low over his eyes. He was frowning.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Dumbledore asked, straightening himself.

“Nope,” said Harry.

“Interesting,” George muttered as he scribbled furiously.

Ron clanged a spoon against the side of a heavy goblet across the room he climbed onto the kitchen table and turned to look at them. As everyone quieted down it gave Hermione an opportunity to see who else was there.

Neville was standing in a far corner with his grandmother. She was straightening the front of his black robes and one of his hands rested on a gold cane. The handle looked like the head of a phoenix.

Tonks stood nearby talking to Arthur Weasley. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood behind him listening to Molly and nodding. Hermione watched Mundungus Fletcher shuffle into the room.

People she didn’t know lined the walls and Hermione wondered how many were in the Order.

“First, we have to address the matter of the banishment of You-Know-Who by our dear comrade, Harry Potter,” Ron said loudly. The crowd cheered and raised their glasses to Harry who blushed and said thank you.

“Second, we have to give him points for style. Not everyone could save the world and get himself drafted for the Hornets in one day,” said Ron, nearly dancing with excitement.

“Congratulations, Harry,” shouted Hermione over the cheering.

“We also have to thank the Longbottoms who have given all they could and more,” said Ron, his voice getting fuller as the crowd encouraged him. Hermione was stunned. She could see him behind a podium, motivating a nation. “May their line burn true.”

Neville looked embarrassed but his grandmother beamed.

Ron went on to thank numerous people, most of whom Hermione didn’t know. The crowd had toasted so much they were undoubtedly drunk by the time Ron dropped his bombshell.

“We can’t forget my dad, who worked inside the Ministry against You-Know-Who,” said Ron. “In the face of adversity, he never faltered, and this is why he was voted Minister of Magic by an emergency vote called by the lower Ministers this afternoon!”

Hermione’s jaw dropped as thunderous clapping and whistling filled the kitchen. Arthur was hauled onto the table to take a bow.

“Now we all have to vote for him when the Ministry can call a proper election to make sure he stays there,” reminded Neville, yelling over the din.

Arthur waved his hands and the crowd quieted down.

“Now, what was done couldn’t have happened without the help of everyone involved,” said Arthur smiling.

Hermione felt guilty. She and Severus didn’t do much at all.

Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder and Dumbledore was motioning her into another room. He was holding a mug of what looked like mead. She slipped through a few people and followed him.

Once in the other room he closed the door. It muffled the racket from the kitchen and gave them privacy.

“I believe Ron found his calling,” Dumbledore chuckled. “What a noise.”

“He’s always been good at motivating people,” said Hermione. “He learned it from Lee Jordan.”

“Would you like something, Hermione?” Dumbledore asked as he walked to a chest. He opened it to reveal a small bar. The bottles were tiny, but Hermione suspected they would pour out much more than they appeared to be able to hold.

“Is this serious, sir?” Hermione asked, fidgeting. She really wished at that moment that Severus had decided to join her. Or Harry. Or Ron. Anyone, actually.

“Hermione, do you know anything about Nordic legends?” Dumbledore asked as the bottles clinked.

“Which one?” Hermione asked. “There are quite a few.”

“Are you familiar with Heimdall?” Dumbledore asked.

“Guardian of Bifrost, the rainbow bridge,” said Hermione. “Let Loki trot across into Aesgard: realm of the gods. Created three races of man: Serfs, peasants and warriors—”

“In a nutshell,” interrupted Dumbledore. “You aware that he was able to, and did, manage to breed and create a bloodline.”

“Yes,” said Hermione.

“The Jotun gave this to the Amazons,” said Dumbledore pulling a small black wooden box out of his robes. “It belongs to you. She never opened it and doesn’t know what it is.”

Hermione reached out and took the box. It had a simple latch on it. Dumbledore watched as a light emanated from the box and decorated her face with colors.

“Did you open the box before now?” Hermione asked.

“I did,” said Dumbledore slowly. “Not to pry, but the Jotun are notorious for having a…” Dumbledore seemed to be searching for a word. “Curious sense of humor.”

A chill went through Hermione.

It was a lacy, three-dimensional pattern that reminded Hermione of a snowflake. The crystal was almost translucent. As Hermione pulled it out, she spotted a small leather pouch at the bottom of the box.

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“A piece of Bifrost,” said Dumbledore.

“What?” Hermione breathed.

“The bridge shattered,” explained Dumbledore. “What is left is the Aurora Borealis.”

“This is a piece of the sky?” Hermione breathed.

“This is a part of the bridge. Forged when it was still corporeal,” said Dumbledore.

Hermione slipped the leather pouch over the pendant and tied it tightly. She slid the chain around her neck and placed it under her robes. “That must have been over fifteen hundred years ago,” said Hermione. “I’m sure there are thousands of descendants by now. Why give it to me?”

“Mithrax is a historian among his kind and was taken by how much you looked like a silver bust of Heimdall. He took a sample hair off your robes when you were injured in the blast,” said Dumbledore. “When his test came back as he suspected, he finally had someone to give the artifact to.”

“Should I be wearing it?” Hermione asked cautiously.

“It is your right to wear it,” Dumbledore said. “The chain will never tarnish or break and the shard itself holds great power only you can learn.”

Hermione fingered the pendant through her robes and shook her head.

“I will, of course, want to see any notes you take in your research,” said Dumbledore. “Not much is known about it.”

“Of course,” Hermione echoed faintly.

Suddenly the door flew open and Harry and Ron burst in.

“Didn’t like my speech?” Ron laughed as he took a deep drink from his mug. Hermione knew it was full of Butterbeer.

“It was wonderful,” said Hermione, smiling at him.

“Truly inspirational, Mr. Weasley,” said Dumbledore raising his mug.

“You’ll do us proud, yet,” said Harry laughing.

Ron turned red, but smiled at them. The door suddenly darkened behind them.

“Hello, Hagrid,” said Dumbledore cheerfully.

“'Allo,” said Hagrid, a mug the size of a small barrel in his hands. Hermione had never seen him in Grimmauld place and watched him duck through the door frame. She thanked the powers that be for Victorian ceiling height. “Sorry I’m late. Had trouble with the Augureys. Got into a cage of pixies.”

“We’re glad to have you,” said Harry, smiling and turning to face him.

It was apparent from Hagrid’s expression that he hadn’t seen Harry since his transformation. The color drained from his face. He took a step backwards and hit his head on the doorframe.

“Ow!” said Hagrid, rubbing his head and regaining his composure. “Sorry Harry. Quite a look you’ve got there.”

“I know,” said Harry, sighing. “I wonder if I could get away with wearing a veil and sunglasses at all times.”

“People will get used to your appearance, Harry,” said Dumbledore.

“Especially when the new Quidditch season starts,” said Ron excitedly.

“People can overlook anything when Quidditch is involved,” said Hermione reassuringly. “Look at Bagman. The people just let him go and he turned out to be Voldemort’s most devoted servant.”

Ron and Hagrid flinched.

“Oh, really,” said Hermione testily. “He’s dead.”

Dumbledore shook his head and rose from the loveseat. “Let’s join the rest of the party.”

Hermione finally got an opportunity to talk to Neville, who said he’d be in touch and would like to speak to her. He still had a limp, but the healers said he would get over it in a few weeks as he grew stronger. His hip had been broken in the blast, and inactivity made the muscles grow weak.

Molly cornered Hermione and interrogated her about her life with Severus.

Hermione firmly told her she was happy, and it was none of her business.

After a few hours, and many toasts later, Hermione finally threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire and made her way back home.

“Well, hello,” said Severus as she staggered through the fireplace in their receiving room. Helga Hufflepuff sat snoring quietly in her frame and Crookshanks lay curled up sleeping near Severus on the couch. It looked like he had been grading first year scrolls. “How was the secret party?”

“I had a wonderful time,” said Hermione. “There were a few important announcements, as well.”

“How much have you been drinking?” Severus asked, sniffing her.

“I don’t know, but I blame it all on Ron and Dumbledore,” said Hermione, leading her head back and staring at the ceiling. The light fixture seemed to be wobbling.

Severus shook his head and ticked something off on a parchment with a red quill.

“What were these important announcements?” Severus grunted.

Harry’s been drafted by the Hornets. and Mr. Weasley’s the new Minister of Magic,” said Hermione wobbling her head so the fixture was moving in a figure eight pattern.

“What!?”

Hermione looked up and felt dizzy. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Has the manager of the Hornets seen Harry since the battle?” Severus asked, completely skipping over the change in government.

“I- I don’t know,” Hermione said apprehensively.

“Don’t be disappointed if he changes his mind, " Severus said grimly.

Hermione already feet the pang of disappointment. Crookshanks nudged her and purred deeply. She scratched his ears as he pushed his head into her hand.

She felt her eyes grow tired and she closed them.

She never felt her husband float her to her bedroom and change into her bedclothes. He tucked her in with a kiss and left Crookshanks to get some rest.

Chapter

Harry, Ron, Neville, and Gregory Goyle lingered in what was now Harry’s den after the Order of the Phoenix celebration party. Neville leaned against a fireplace while Ron and Gregory sat on a brown leather loveseat. Harry opened a bottle of champagne at the bar, although Ron stuck with his Butterbeer. After a disastrous evening with a bottle of Firewhisky his sixth year, Ron had lost his taste for hard alcohol.

“To the future of the Wizarding World,” said Harry, raising his glass. The others followed and drank.

“Harry,” Gregory said looking very nervous, and afraid. “I—I want to ask you something.”

“What?” Harry asked. His green slit eyes opened wide in curiosity. Gregory had been very quiet and never really talked to Harry directly. He was here at the invitation of Neville, who had forgiven Gregory for his past, considering he had pulled through when they had needed him, but he still didn’t fit in.

“Do you know what happened to my father?” Gregory asked nervously.

Harry was quiet. His gaze flicked to Ron and he looked sad.

“I’m sorry,” said Harry, his shoulders slumping. “Your father was killed after you switched sides. I can help retrieve his body for your mother.”

Gregory nodded and drained his goblet. He refilled it and drained it again.

“Keep doing that and you’re going to have a hell of a headache tomorrow,” said Ron quietly.

“He ran and was hit in the back,” said Harry. “He didn’t suffer.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Harry said. “Voldemort was looking for an excuse. If it hadn’t been about you it would have been something else.”

“Thought he didn’t need an excuse,” snorted Neville, sipping at his goblet.

“Not a good idea to randomly off devoted followers because their personalities annoy you,” said Harry. “Ruins morale.”

There was a moment of silence before they all began laughing.

“Ruins morale?” Ron laughed.

“He learned after the first time when half his followers renounced him,” said Harry.

“Suppose it makes sense, strategically,” said Neville. “Hey, Harry,” he said realization dawning on him. “Will you help me study for my Auror exam?”

“Sure,” said Harry, surprised. “I bet I’d be a lot of use to the Aurors.”

“Might want to rethink that Quidditch career,” joked Neville.

The room fell silent.

“I was just kidding,” Neville mumbled. “Sheesh.”

“Change of subject,” said Harry. “Hermione looked well tonight.”

“Glad she didn’t get mixed in with the Malfoys. That would have been nothing but trouble,” Gregory grumbled.

“Did Draco even want her?” Ron said, surprised.

“His father wanted her,” Gregory said.

“What?” Harry said, shocked.

“Would have thought you knew that,” Gregory said, surprised.

“Not a clue,” said Harry, taking a seat. “How could he take a second wife?”

“I have two wives, technically,” said Gregory, blushing. “More trouble than its worth, sometimes.”

“What!” Neville dropped his goblet. Wine splattered over the dark carpet.

“Padma was going to be married off as well,” Gregory grouched. “Pavarti begged me to petition for her so she didn’t end up somewhere awful. They let me because of some loophole left over from a hundred years ago. Barbaric nonsense.”

Neville raised his eyebrows, impressed.

“Hey, do you ever get them to-,” Ron began.

“No,” Gregory said with a fiery glare. “It’s not like that.”

“Snape took Hermione to the ballet,” Ron said sadly.

“Oh, come off it, Ron,” said Harry. “You could have asked her out once in seven years.”

“You never asked her out at all?” Gregory asked, bewildered.

“Asked her to the Yule Ball,” muttered Ron.

“Only after you couldn’t get anyone else,” snorted Neville. “I asked her before you did.”

“Well, I didn’t see you with anyone at the Yule Ball,” said Ron to Gregory, testily.

“Wanted to go with Hermione,” said Gregory. “Couldn’t ask out a Gryffindor, and certainly not her. She probably would have spit in my face.”

“Good point,” said Harry. “The twins ended up with those guys from Beauxbatons, didn’t they?”

Gregory nodded, smiling. “Padma still writes to Pierre. He and Oliver adopted a girl a few months ago.”

“You mean they were- ?” Ron asked, his face screwed up.

“Yea,” said Gregory, chuckling. “Knew the girls wouldn’t fool around and they made ‘damn good accessories,’ as Oliver put it.”

“We got dumped for a couple of poofs,” Ron said to Harry indignantly.

“Do you blame them?” asked Harry, playing with his glass.

“What did Lucius want with Hermione?” Neville asked.

“Use her as a pawn to get to Harry,” said Gregory.

“Pathetic,” said Harry, coldly. The other young men were chilled at his tone.

“Well, she ended up with someone nice to her. That’s good enough,” said Ron firmly, to everyone’s surprise.

“Didn’t think you’d ever approve,” said Neville.

“He didn’t leave her when she was in Mungo’s,” said Ron, looking glum. “Practically lived there for weeks. Slept in a chair. Didn’t eat. Stunk like a skunk until mum put her foot down and scourgefied him within an inch of his life.”

“So did you,” pointed out Gregory.

“I had a reason to be there,” said Ron. “Practically the whole family was there for the week after the battle. All I did was get banged on the head. Mum was a mess. Someone had to take care of business.”

“How is Ginny doing?” asked Neville abruptly. “I didn’t really talk to her.”

“Well, I think,” said Ron. “Hermione can keep an eye on her at school. She hasn’t said a word to anyone about the battle.”

“She’s never been one to brag,” said Neville. “You didn’t even know she could fly until half the team got banned.”

“Good point,” said Ron.

Harry stayed silent and sipped his drink.

---

Ginny lay silent in her bed, listening to her roommates sleep.

Tom was dead.

She never knew if Tom had ever realized she could see bits and pieces of his memory as he sucked the life out of her in the Chamber of Secrets. He might not have cared, thinking she would die, but he was sure to have sought her out if she knew she had seen him at his most vulnerable.

She knew why he had turned into the evil monster Voldemort was. She saw. She knew. Worst of all, she understood.

Harry thought he had it bad at the Dursleys. He never knew, but she was sure he did now.

Tom’s days of being another drone at the orphanage during the summer. The requests to stay at the school over the holidays denied year after year.

The nights when the older boys would stuff dirty rags in his mouth so no one would hear him scream. His body screaming in pain as he forced himself to walk normally so no one would know he was weak.

All because he couldn’t wield his wand.

Why?

Because the balance would be upset and the Muggles could find out about the Wizarding World. The precious Muggles, always needing to be sheltered from reality.

Who would shelter him from them? No one.

Did this make Ginny horrible? That she understood? That she sympathized with the boy who was, not the man he became?

Her family would never understand. Could never understand. No one could.

Well, maybe one other could.

Ginny quietly swung her feet out of bed and felt them hit her dorm room floor. She slid into her slippers and reached for her robe.

As she made her way to the common room she wondered if he would think she was crazy. No matter, it had to be done.

Ginny sat up writing until the first rays of sun started filtering through the windows. When her letter was done, she dressed quickly and made her way to the owlery.

When she got back, she met up with some of her classmates and went to breakfast. Afterwards she took a very long nap.

---

Harry ripped open the envelope from the Hogwarts owl after giving her an owl treat.

He skimmed the letter from Ginny and sighed. She wanted to talk. A Hogsmede weekend was coming up. It was about time he got out, anyway.

---

A raven flew through Hermione’s window one morning and let out a piercing cry.

As Hermione rubbed her eyes, she heard Crookshanks meow piteously. Her eyes opened and she saw her mother-in-law transforming from her animagus form. Anastasia scratched Crookshanks ears and he began purring loudly. She spelled light yellow robes and gold jewelry on.

“Hello,” said Hermione, rubbing her eyes.

“You do not share a bedroom with Severus?” Anastasia asked, frowning.

“First, because it was a scandal. Now, it’s because he snores,” said Hermione reaching out to give Crookshanks a pat.

“Use the Bubble-Head Charm in conjunction with a silencing spell,” said Anastasia. “His father is worse.”

“Don’t tell her that,” Severus said, padding into the room. “She’ll do it whenever she doesn’t want to listen to me.”

“It works for that as well,” said Anastasia, smiling at Hermione.

“I could hear you all the way across our quarters,” said Severus, rubbing his unshaven face. “Must you be so loud in the morning, mother?”

“It is the only way to get you awake,” said Anastasia.

“I’m awake,” said Severus. “The whole castle may be up now.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” Anastasia said dismissively.

Severus waved a hand at her and left the room. Momentarily he returned with the tea service and began pouring cups.

“Your father and I were thinking,” started Anastasia. Severus rolled his eyes behind his mothers’ back. “Since you didn’t get to visit during the summer, you should come visit us for Christmas.”

“Yes,” said Hermione slowly as she tried not to scowl at Severus, who was miming hanging himself behind Anastasia. “I had hoped to see my parents, as well.”

“They would be more that welcome to join us,” said Anastasia. Severus stopped misbehaving and looked impressed. “We are family now.”

Hermione still hadn’t told her parents she and Severus had a consummated marriage. She wondered how she was going to tell them without her father trying to kill her husband.

“I’ll owl my parents,” said Hermione, taking a cup of tea from Severus.

“Does father know you’re here?” Severus asked, curiously.

“I told him I was going flying,” said Anastasia, avoiding the subject.

“When?” Severus frowned. “Last night? It must have taken you hours to get here from France.”

“I apparated part of the way,” said Anastasia, defensively. “I can just Floo back.”

“Why didn’t you Floo here?” asked Hermione.

“Because then father would know she was jaunting all over the countryside to corner me into coming for Christmas,” Severus said making a face at his mother. She sipped her tea and smiled at him.

“Never could trick him, never,” Anastasia said proudly.

“Your plans were never very good,” said Severus sipping his tea.

Anastasia turned and smacked him. “I have had just about enough of you!” Then she rattled on in Russian at him and he turned pink.

“We’ll be seeing you the first day of your winter break, then,” said Anastasia with a smile to Hermione.

Hermione smiled weakly and nodded.

Anastasia turned to her son and pulled him down to her height so she could kiss him. Then she ruffled his hair and kissed him again.

France for Christmas, it was.

Chapter

Harry and Ginny sat in the Three Broomsticks drinking Butterbeer near the fireplace. Harry wore a green silk ski mask and a pair of shaded goggles. Ginny said it made him look like a color-challenged bee. She could still see his mouth and he grinned at her.

“The memories are a part of you, now, Harry,” said Ginny. “More than it’s a part of me, and I know how much a part of me it is.”

“But it didn’t happen to me. It was a long time ago and happened to someone else.”

“I can still taste that filthy rag,” said Ginny, shuddering.

“So can I,” said Harry, sipping his Butterbeer.

“How could anyone live like that?” Ginny asked.

“The Dursleys were never like that,” said Harry quietly. “They weren’t pleasant, but my Uncle never beat me. He may have threatened to, and he shoved me, but he never hurt me. Dudley used to hit me when we were small, but he hasn’t done anything but throw insults at me in years.”

“How could his father just leave him?” Ginny asked. “Just- gone.”

“How would you feel if you were enchanted and forced to make a child?” Harry asked her. “There’s a word for it Ginny.”

“Yes, she did a terrible thing,” Ginny agreed. “But, for the love of God, take the baby away from the lunatic before you chuff off!”

“Senior got what he deserved,” said Harry darkly.

“I agree,” said Ginny firmly. “He might not even known she was expecting—”

“Hello, Hermione,” Harry said, looking over Ginny’s shoulder.

“Harry?” Hermione asked quietly. When he nodded firmly, she slipped onto the couch with them. “What are you doing here?”

“Meeting Ginny for a drink,” said Harry. “Would you like a Butterbeer?”

Madam Rosmerta ‘thunked’ a bottle down as she passed.

“That’s service,” Ginny said, impressed.

Harry opened Hermione’s bottle and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” said Hermione, taking a drink.

“So, where’s that husband of yours?” Harry asked.

“Come out and enjoy himself?” Hermione said, shocked. “When there are dungeons to skulk around in? You must be thinking of someone else.”

Ginny giggled and Harry shook his head.

“You really do look like a bee, you know,” said Hermione.

“I know,” said Harry. “If I took this off it would be pandemonium.”

“Good evening, Miss Weasley, Madam Snape,” Professor McGonagall’s face turned stern. “Mr. Potter,” she said much quieter.

“Hello, Professor,” the three teenagers echoed. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

To Hermione’s surprise McGonagall slid into a chair near them.

“Mr. Potter,” said McGonagall seriously. “I thought we were going to keep your appearance under wraps, as it were, until further notice.”

“He is wrapped, Professor,” piped up Ginny.

“Gillywater, Professor?” Madam Rosmerta asked as she passed by.

“Yes, please,” said McGonagall. “Small, dear.”

Rosmerta bustled off to retrieve McGonagall’s drink and they leaned in.

“Ginny’s father says the Hornets plan on announcing you to their lineup,” said McGonagall. “A small picture will be with the other team members.”

“So that’s what the meeting is about,” said Harry. “They asked me what size robes I wore.”

“This will get the public used to your appearance,” said McGonagall.

“That might not be too bad,” admitted Harry.

“You have to think about PR now, Harry,” said Hermione seriously.

“PR?” Ginny asked.

“Public relations,” said Hermione. “How you can manipulate the media to influence the public’s opinion of you.”

“Well, that’s horrible,” said Ginny.

“Horrible it may be,” McGonagall said. “But she’s right. You need to think about these things, Potter.”

Colin Creevy suddenly hopped in front of their table and snapped a picture.

“Oh, Colin,” Ginny groaned as she was blinded by a bright flash.

“I swear one day-,” Hermione grumbled under her breath as she blinked blue spots.

“Mr. Creevy, I would ask you to please refrain from assaulting the patrons of this fine establishment with your camera,” said Professor McGonagall.

“I second that,” said Madam Rosmerta from behind him. She had Professor McGonagall’s Gillywater balanced on a tray with several bottles of Butterbeer and a large mug. “Take it outside, or put it away.”

Colin sulked away as the drinks were served. Harry nodded and three more Butterbeers appeared in front of them.

“Thanks, Harry,” said Hermione as he opened her second drink.

“We should stop at Zonko’s,” said Ginny, after Professor McGonagall had excused herself to a table with Professors Flitwick and Sinistra. “Fred and George said they placed a big order and I want to see how they’re selling.”

“I don’t know,” said Hermione hesitantly.

“Oh, come on, Hermione,” Harry said.

“Go enjoy yourselves,” Hermione insisted. “I’m hitting the candy shop and going back.”

After they finished their drinks, they parted, and Hermione watched as Harry pulled a hood over his head and he made his way through the crowd with Ginny. Whispers followed them and Hermione knew his disguise hadn’t fooled anyone. At least no one was running and screaming.

---

“For a child of dentists, you certainly have a sweet tooth,” Severus remarked.

“I don’t go out for supplies every week,” pointed out Hermione.

“You could,” said Severus, running a finger down a column in his grading book. He made a mark near a name and shook his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Marking the Muggle-born,” said Severus. “Good idea to keep a close eye on them the first few months. Prevents accidents.”

“I saw Harry,” Hermione said as she sat on the couch near Severus.

“Really?” Severus said, his eyebrows raised. “Is Hogsmeade still standing?”

“It was the last I saw,” Hermione said. “He was wearing a face covering and goggles.”

“Clever,” said Severus dryly. “Did he come up with that idea all on his own?”

Before Hermione could answer, Professor Dumbledore’s face appeared in the fireplace.

“We’re going to need you, Hermione,” he said quickly.

“What happened?” Severus asked.

“Harry was unmasked at Zonko’s,” said Dumbledore. “The results were disastrous.”

Hermione and Severus both groaned.

He shook his head at her as she disappeared. She was going to burn herself out.

---

Severus rose at dawn and looked at Hermione laying beside him. She usually wore a nightgown, but tonight she hadn’t bothered and was just wearing a shirt and her knickers. He estimated she had been asleep a few hours. He had tried to stay up, but decided to sleep in her bed to wait for her. Then he slept through her return.

He crept out of bed and onto the ledge of her window. With any luck they would have fresh breakfast.

---

Hermione woke to the smell of cooking fish. She stretched and yawned.

“You’re lucky you slept until noon.”

“Not a good day?” Hermione asked.

“Just a late day,” said Severus. “The fish were not cooperating.”

“Well, I see they finally surrendered,” Hermione said as she rose and went to her table. “Silly fish. Whatever were they thinking?”

Severus caught her forehead with his lips as she walked around the table and handed her a plate.

“Where did you get the grill?” Hermione asked, looking at the cooking device set on a piece of concrete to sink the heat.

“Transfigured it,” said Severus. “I figured you’d have my head if I bothered the elves to prepare us a special meal.”

“Haven’t seen Dobby in quite a while,” admitted Hermione.

“He’s still in Russia,” said Severus.

“Still?” Hermione asked as she began eating. “What’s he doing that’s taking so long?”

Severus looked at her like she had lost her mind.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“You really have no idea, do you?” Severus asked.

“No,” said Hermione frowning. “What am I missing?”

Severus delicately explained the mating habits of house-elves.

“He’s hired himself out for stud services?” Hermione spluttered, aghast.

“That’s a crude way of putting it,” Severus said.

“Well, really,” said Hermione testily.

“The litter won’t come until summer,” Severus said.

Litter?” Hermione exclaimed. She thought for a moment and a smile crept across her face.

“I think I’m going to Diagon Alley this afternoon,” Hermione said.

“Don’t go overboard,” said Severus. “I think you need another bookshelf before you get any more books.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” said Hermione.

---

Dobby was helping Zemlyaa prune the roses in the courtyard of the Snape Russian Estate when he saw a Hogwarts owl swoop overhead with a package. He quickly finished the bush he was working on and darted to the kitchens. His bare feet slapped along the brick path as the house loomed closer and he scuttled through the elf sized door.

Sloozhanka and Cherv stood on a dark wooden chair reading the label to a long thin package sitting on the heavy wooden table.

“It is for Dobby,” Sloozhanka said brightly to Dobby.

“Dobby saw a Hogwarts owl in the yard,” said Dobby excitedly. “Dobby was hoping his friends would be writing to him!”

Sloozhanka handed Dobby the package, which he tore into instantly. A dark mahogany box lay inside with an ‘O’ embellished into the wood. He opened it carefully.

The other elves saw tears start to slide down Dobby’s face.

“Dobby’s first wand,” Dobby said reverently, lifting it carefully out of the box. “Dobby never thought he’d see the day.”

---

On a crisp fall day, a dark blue square envelope dropped in front of Hermione during breakfast in the Great Hall. It was addressed to Master and Madam Snape in gold calligraphy.

Severus watched the delivery owl flutter out of the Great Hall.

“Another celebration at Potters?” asked Severus, sniffing and beginning to fill his plate.

Hermione opened the letter to find that was exactly what it was.

“It says you’re expected this time,” said Hermione, reading a pale purple letter enclosed with the invitation. To her surprise it was in Neville’s handwriting.

“I don’t think anyone really expects me to show up.”

“We would love to have you, Severus,” said Dumbledore, as he leaned over, between them. “There are enough rooms at Harry’s that you can retreat if you aren’t feeling particularly social.”

Severus grumbled a reply into his eggs. Dumbledore smiled at Hermione and retrieved a pot of marmalade she wasn’t using.

“Nosy old goat,” Severus mumbled as Dumbledore made his way back to his seat. He glanced at Hermione and stopped grumbling at the sight of her frown.

“Just think about it,” Hermione said, pushing her chair back.

He nodded once, but didn’t look very open-minded.

---

“Madam Snape?” A dreamy voice called out behind Hermione in the corridor outside the Great Hall.

“Oh,” Hermione said, skidding to a stop on the stone floor. She had no idea she was walking so fast. Perhaps it was because she was getting used to matching Severus’ long stride. Perhaps it was because she always felt as if she was behind in her office work. “Hello, Luna. Stop calling me that.”

“Did you see the Quibbler this morning?” Luna asked.

“No,” Hermione said stiffly. Luna knew very well Hermione didn’t think much of the paper her father edited. “I can’t say I did.”

“Well,” said Luna in that same far-away voice. “You might want to look at it. It has an exclusive about the new Hornets lineup.”

“How many students get the Quibbler?” asked Hermione. If she was going to have to deal with chaos, she wanted to have some idea of how quickly it was going to spread.

“Five,” said Luna, reaching into her robes and handing Hermione a copy. “Not counting this one.”

“Thank you,” said Hermione, sincerely.

“No problem,” said Luna, smiling.

---

Severus walked to his quarters after his last class of the day. Not a single detention. He had to clean the cauldrons himself, and the Second Years were learning sticking potions. He was in a foul mood.

“You hush!” Helga Hufflepuff hissed at him as he stormed into his quarters.

“I beg your pardon,” Severus said, frowning at the elderly witch in a portrait.

“She has had a terrible day and going to have a worse night,” Helga whispered loudly.

“That damned picture.” Severus growled.

“The Potter boy could not hide indefinitely.”

Severus murmured the word that would close the entrance to Hermione’s rooms. He sat on the couch and conjured himself a sandwich.

“How could one miscast spell could cause so many, so much misery, for so many years?” Severus mused as he took a bite.

“How could one foolish idea cause so many, so much misery?” Helga remarked from the portrait. “Even you fell.”

Severus raised his eyebrows and nodded as he ate his sandwich. Severus saw a flicker of green in the fireplace and it caught his attention.

“Severus?” Dumbledore’s head said from the fireplace.

“She’s sleeping,” Severus said, stiffly. “She needs her rest. I’m not waking her.”

“Of course, she does,” Dumbledore said, stepping through the flames. “Madam Pomfrey is concerned. That’s what I need to speak with you about.”

---

Hermione woke to a bright light in her eyes. The leather pouch had come loose from her pendant and slipped off in her sleep.

“Blimey,” she muttered as she looked around her room. It wasn’t illuminated well, but she could easily see. As her gaze went back to the shard it dimmed so it wouldn’t blind her. Her brain started working.

---

Severus rose and walked into his receiving room sleepily. Hermione was having an animated conversation with the fireplace.

“Professor, sir!” a squeaky voice piped up. “Thank you, Professor, sir! Dobby had always dreamed of his own wand, but never thought he would ever see it happen.”

“Your welcome.” Severus gave Hermione confused look. She was trying to look innocent. “I’m—sure you’ll make good use of it.”

“Dobby has, sir!” said the excited elf. “He has been reading the books in the blue library and doing experiments of his own.”

“What!” Severus barked. That was his father’s library of experimental potions and charms. Some very volatile ideas were in there.

“Dobby contacted Master Jacob, sir, when he finished his experiment on Flying Potions,” the elf said proudly, ignoring Severus’ outburst.

“Father finished his experiment?” Severus said in shock. He slumped to the couch. His father had been obsessed with that since Severus was a child.

“Dobby finished it for him, sir!” Dobby said proudly.

Hermione flicked a look at Severus. His stern look had turned dumbfounded.

“What was he doing wrong?” Severus asked.

“Your father is sloppy with potions,” Dobby said frowning.

“He’s meticulous!” Severus exclaimed.

“Python scales have to be splintered, not powdered,” Dobby said patiently. “The oil from the scale has to be dissolved in the first stage and the scale in the second. If it’s powdered it dissolves too quickly. It is ruined.”

“How long did it take you to discover this?” Severus asked.

“When I looked at it.” Dobby sounded confused.

“That’s wonderful, Dobby!” Hermione exclaimed. She looked at Severus, who was still speechless.

“Dobby has many chores to do today. The days are shorter,” Dobby reminded her.

“I hope you’re not working too hard,” Hermione said, worriedly.

Dobby assured her he was fine, said his good-byes and with a pop he was gone.

Severus waved his wand and normal flames crackled in the fireplace.

“What time did you get up?” Severus asked.

“About five,” admitted Hermione. “I slept a lot.”

“You certainly did,” said Severus. “You’ve been overtaxing yourself. Dumbledore agrees.”

Hermione frowned. “The two of you discuss me?”

“More than just you. I prescribe a trip to Diagon Alley,” said Severus, seriously. “Bring Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood with you.”

“What?” Hermione asked, confused.

“You three shouldn’t even be here this year. You fought in a war little over a month ago. Go out. Explore the women’s district. Spend some of my father’s money. He’ll be thrilled.”

“Women’s district?” Hermione asked, confused.

“Clothing shops and beauty things,” Severus said with a wave of his hand. “Fripperies no normal person should desire.”

“I’ll talk to them after breakfast,” Hermione said, grinning.

---

Severus answered a shy knock on the wall hiding the entrance to his quarters. Ginny and Luna stood in his doorway. Ginny smiled at him stiffly.

“Hello, dears!” Helga called out, much to Severus annoyance.

“Hello!” Luna called back, curiously looking at the portrait.

“Hermione is in her room,” Severus said. He uttered the word to open Hermione’s quarters and watched as the girls practically fled. Luna looked regretful she didn’t get a better look at Helga.

The door closed behind them.

“This is gorgeous,” Ginny told Hermione, her mouth wide.

“You’ve seen pictures,” Hermione insisted as she pulled a shoe out from under her bed.

“But still,” said Ginny, walking into Hermione’s quarters. “Mum wants me to find out if you really are all right.”

“Of course, I’m all right,” Hermione said rolling her eyes. “I’m sick of people asking.”

“You know her,” Ginny said sheepishly.

“He’s fine when he’s not being stubborn,” Hermione mumbled as she looked for her other shoe.

“Do you know where we’re going today?” Luna asked, changing the subject.

“Sure,” Ginny said. “Mum goes there all the time.”

“Have you ever actually been there?” Hermione asked.

“Well, she usually does all our shopping for us,” Ginny admitted. “Takes all our measurements at home. Says it saves the time of rounding all of us up and making us behave. We get to go to Diagon Alley before school, but that’s it.”

“Then we’ll have an adventure,” Hermione said positively as she stood up, ready to go.

The four of them travelled by Floo to the Leaky Cauldron in London before going through the hidden doorway to the wizarding world.

Severus gave Hermione free reign of the Snape accounts. When she had protested, he told her to consider it a late wedding present from his mother.

When she protested further, he became uncomfortable and suggested she pick up something generous for her parents as well. When she asked how much she should spend she paled at the sum.

“Why?” Hermione had asked, bewildered.

The four of them were sitting on the patio of an ice cream shop before they went their ways for the afternoon. Ginny and Luna were unusually interested in the exchange.

“My mother went to see your mother,” Severus finally relented. “Talking about grandchildren.”

Ginny choked on her sundae and Hermione looked afraid.

“What did dad do?”

“Well, after mother hit him with a full body bind, not much,” Severus chuckled despite himself.

“I bet mum is terribly jealous,” Hermione said. “She’s wanted to do that for years.”

“Your parents will be joining us for Christmas,” said Severus.

“Wonderful,” Hermione breathed. Once her mother was accustomed to the idea, her father was bound to come around. Eventually.

“You better find a good present,” Luna remarked.

Hermione nodded and picked at the last of her sundae.

Severus bowed as he left them, and they agreed to meet later.

“He certainly is different alone,” said Ginny. “I’ll tell mum to leave you be.”

“Please do,” Hermione said exasperatedly.

Hermione and Ginny made their way through Diagon Alley to the womens’ quarter. They were stopped frequently on the way by witches and wizards wanting to shake Ginny’s hand and to tell her father they wished him luck. Ginny shyly thanked them and jotted their names in a small notebook after they had gotten out of site.

“Can’t remember everyone,” Ginny shrugged when Hermione asked.

They finally reached a set of American western-style swinging doors between two stores: Prichard’s Potions and Spooner’s Spices.

“What an odd place for it,” said Luna.

“Well,” Hermione said. “I imagine it started small. A place for women among all the hustle and bustle of Victorian Britain.”

Ginny pushed open the doors to reveal a long, wide walkway lined with stores on either side. Witches milled about examining the displays or checking off lists. The buildings were tall, and the stores narrow. All of them were painted pink with white trim. Each store had a different colored awning with the names of the shops painted on.

“It looks like Madam Puddifoot’s exploded in here,” Ginny muttered.

“Horribly tacky!” Hermione agreed.

“Maybe it’s so people know they’re in the right place,” suggested Luna.

The first shop: Catherine’s Consignments, had a worn set of green robes displayed in their window. Hermione could see two middle-aged witches through the dirty window, each holding firmly onto what looked like a set of midnight blue robes. They were locked in what looked like an escalating disagreement. The young witch behind the counter looked nervous.

“I think we can skip that one,” said Hermione.

“Oooh!” Ginny said as she turned around.

“Perfumes?” Hermione asked, turning to read the awning. She wrinkled her nose. “What’s so special about perfume? Ron got me perfume once and it was horrible.”

“He didn’t get it from here,” said Ginny breathlessly. “I’ve seen their advertisement in Witch Weekly.”

A small silver bell tinkled as they walked in. Their footsteps echoed on bare, polished floorboards as they entered the shop

“Hello, ladies,” a rich voice welcomed them. An older, plump witch in light orange robes sat behind a counter.

Glass shelves full of glass vials lined the store and large windows let light stream in to let the little bottles sparkle in the sunlight. Hermione saw normal scents like vanilla, cinnamon, and rose. She also saw cryptic labels like: Ambition, Relaxation, Lust, and Scram.

“We custom mix for your natural scent,” said the witch behind the counter.

“There are no prices,” said Hermione.

“I have a list up here,” said the witch.

Ginny winced when she looked at it. Hermione read over her shoulder.

“Well, it’s only reasonable that enchanted scents would be substantially more.” Hermione nodded.

They left with a small sample of Inspiration for Ginny, who was having trouble writing an essay for Binns, and a bottle of Relaxation bubble bath for Hermione. Luna had passed, saying her father had more than enough experimental plants in his herb garden to tide her over for a lifetime.

Ginny couldn’t help but notice Hermione showed them the small crest on a signet ring and signed a receipt to pay for everything.

---

Hermione, Luna, Ginny and Severus walked through the fireplace in the Snape receiving room at Hogwarts, their arms piled with packages.

“Think you got enough?” Ginny asked grouchily, setting down a load on the low table near the couch.

“My stores needed restocking,” Severus said defensively as he set down two large bags.

“I’m sure the sale at the apothecary had nothing to do with it,” Hermione grumbled, dropping her load near Ginny’s. A few packages tumbled to the floor and bounced on the thick carpet.

“Did you get anything?” Helga asked the girls, frowning at all the little brown packages.

Ginny turned around and showed Helga a large red backpack.

“What is that?” Helga peered at the pack.

As Severus began sorting the little packages Hermione and Ginny began unpacking the backpack in front of Helga.

“What trickery is this?” Helga exclaimed as the bag kept producing packages long after it should have been emptied.

“Portable space,” explained Hermione.

“The things time has come up with! Can you put children in it?” she looked hopeful.

“I don’t think so.”

Hermione showed her the things she had purchased during their trip.

Soon, Ginny and Luna left them to finish sorting things and putting them away.

“Did you have a nice day?” Severus asked Hermione.

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”

“You’ve certainly deserved it,” Helga said. With a stern look from Severus she scuttled from her frame, making a face at him.

“About that…” Severus began. “You’ve been working too hard. Some of the children are being coddled. Dumbledore is not as concerned as I am, but the year is young.”

Hermione frowned and opened her mouth to protest, but Severus held up a hand.

“This is not about you personally. This is about your position. Every time a student has a fright, they’re rewarded with a nice talk and some tea. They are taking advantage of you and Blaise.”

“Some of them are truly upset,” insisted Hermione.

“Then only see them,” Severus said firmly. “Leave the rest for the Ministry. You’re here to give comfort, not to clean up the whole mess.”

“What about you?” she asked. “Do I give you comfort?”

“When you’re not trying to give me a heart attack.”

Chapter

The next few weeks Hermione watched the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet like a hawk, searching for anything concerning Harry.

The Prophet stayed amazingly silent about Harry’s appearance, although they reran the interview the Quibbler printed after the battle.

The day before Halloween the Quibbler claimed Harry was ready to break into the Quidditch world, and alternately, the arts:

“I saw him myself,” said Nanette Robbins, resident of London. “My piping lessons are in the same building. He was heavily bandaged, but I’d recognize him anywhere!”

The offices of Victor Jacobson: Operatic Trainer, have declined to comment. Henry Powell, the producer of the magical opera: Ophelia’s Return, has also refused to confirm or deny Potters participation in his newest project.

Thankfully, the Ministry celebration fell on a Saturday and gave Hermione plenty of time to convince Severus he was going whether he liked it or not.

---

Dumbledore, accompanied by Professor McGonagall, waited for the rest of what Ginny had begun to call the Hogwarts’ Contingency, in his office. His deep purple robes glittered with silver stardust as he moved. They were a present from Alexandra. The hat was more like a tall cap made of the same fabric. Enchanted ice carved in the shape of a nine-pointed star sat above his brow.

McGonagall was dressed in a tartan skirt and white ruffled shirt. Her dark hair was braided and down, for a change.

“Stop pacing,” McGonagall said. Dumbledore froze mid-stride and turned to face her. She spied the curly toe of one of his shoes, tapping soundlessly under his robes.

She sighed and threw him a disapproving look.

“Perhaps a spot of tea,” Dumbledore suggested.

McGonagall nodded at him and walked to a tea service in the corner. Dumbledore decided perhaps it was best to sit down. He caught himself drumming a jig with his fingertips and was thankful when McGonagall handed him a cup, so he’d have something to do with his hands. He sipped it and lifted his eyebrows.

“Ogden’s?” Dumbledore asked McGonagall.

“It will calm your nerves,” said McGonagall firmly. “Drink it.”

“I haven’t eaten today,” admitted Dumbledore.

“More the better.” McGonagall fixed him with a stern look.

His eyes twinkled at her as he downed his cup. He was just setting it down when green flames leapt up in the fireplace.

Dumbledore stood as his daughter walked through the flames. He was surprised when Sophia followed.

“Since I am being honored as well, I am allowed to bring a partner,” said Alexandra, her jaw set stubbornly.

Alexandra stood in robes patterned after her fathers; except the color was crème and the woven metal gold that gave her a healthy glow. She wore a head covering and a transparent veil hung loosely over the bottom half of her face, one end fastened near one of her ears. Her mothers’ outfit matched Alexandra’s, excepting the color was light blue. They smelled of wood and earth.

“Of course you are,” said Dumbledore smiling at them, nervously. McGonagall was glad she had slipped him a nip. She’d never seen him this wound up.

“You go veiled in public?” McGonagall asked.

“We have heard that the air is-,” Alexandra seemed to be searching for a word. “Not always so clean here.”

They all turned at a knock at the door and Remus, Severus, and Hermione entered, wearing dress robes.

Severus was wearing the same dark robes he wore to the opera, but this time his accessories were a deep green that matched Hermione’s dress robes. Lupin was wearing light brown and was fiddling with a fraying buttonhole that didn’t want to work properly.

“Where is Miss Weasley?” McGonagall asked.

“She should be here soon,” Hermione said.

“Does she know the password?” Remus asked, giving up on the buttonhole.

From the way they all looked at him blankly, he assumed not.

“I’ll go down and wait for her,” Remus said, backing out of the room and closing the door behind him.

“You look lovely,” Alexandra said to Hermione.

“You look better,” said Hermione smiling. “Your robes are gorgeous!”

“Thank you,” said Sophia.

“Mother wove the fabric,” Alexandra said.

Dumbledore looked down at his robes. He looked at Alexandra and then Sophia evenly in turn. These were wedding robes. The smell was from them being in a cedar chest for so long.

Sophia had woven them as a girl in love, hoping it would right all wrongs and conquer all. She had been mistaken, but the robes had remained. Dumbledore caught the guilty look in Sophia’s eyes and knew.

“It was a shame to let them go to waste,” Sophia brusquely.

“Indeed,” said Dumbledore.

The door opened and Ginny walked in, followed by Remus. She was wearing black velvet robes. Hermione raised her eyebrows, but assumed Fred and George had enough notice to get her something suitable.

“You look nice,” Hermione said to Ginny, excitedly.

“Thanks,” said Ginny.

“I would have thought the boys would be breaking down your door to escort you,” said Severus, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m going with Harry,” Ginny said, nervously. From the look on Dumbledore’s face he didn’t know this. She thought she saw him frown, but it was gone quickly.

“Well then,” McGonagall said, walking to the fireplace. “We’re all here, let’s go.”

With a brusque movement she threw Floo powder into the fire and stepped through.

---

To Hermione’s delight Pieter and Anna were present at the gathering.

“I am representing the Brotherhood,” said Pieter boomed proudly.

He stood tall in black silk robes. A white fur cloak draped over his shoulders. A tall cylindrical hat perched on his head, and a large ruby was set into the white silk band. Anna beamed proudly at him. She wore deep red dress robes and her brown hair was down and curled. Her body had either bounced back from pregnancy well or her robes were enchanted to make her curvaceous and fit.

“Come, Hermione,” Anna said in her thick accent, embracing her and arranging one of her curls in a motherly fashion. “I have pictures of the little ones.”

Hermione grabbed Ginny’s arm and Anna produced an impossibly large photo fold from her tiny handbag.

Tiny Boris was adorable, as Hermione had suspected. His sisters seemed to arrange themselves in every frame, even if it was just a hand or half a face in the picture. They smiled and waved furiously. Misha was posed in a lovely portrait of him near the piano. His sisters darted in and out of the legs of his bench, crawling on the floor.

“I hear we will be spending Christmas together in France this year,” Anna said casually.

“How many people did Anastasia invite?” Hermione blurted out, a picture of Nadja poking Boris fell out of her hands and fluttered to the floor.

“Hermione! Ginny!” a girl’s voice called out, distracting them. Hermione retrieved Anna’s picture and turned to the voice.

Hermione and Ginny saw Padma waving at them enthusiastically, her stomach beginning to show the swell of early pregnancy. Anna shooed them in the direction of the former Gryffindor, laughing and tucking away her pictures. Padma’s arms were thrown apart to show off her stomach.

“Good Lord, he’s quick,” Ginny said under her breath. Hermione punched her on the arm. Luckily, Parvati didn’t hear.

“Wow, Hermione breathed and put her hand on the other girl’s stomach without thinking.

Padma didn’t seem to mind being handled and beamed proudly.

“Gregory’s so proud,” she gushed. Hermione couldn’t imagine, but then again people gave her pitying looks when they saw her with Severus.

“When’s the baby due?” Ginny asked, still amazed someone her age was going to be a parent. She hoped the Goyle family was still well off.

“April,” said Padma. She scowled at Hermione who seemed to be thinking. “Stop doing the math, I got pregnant this summer.”

Ginny giggled.

“Where’s Parvarti?” Hermione asked.

“With Gregory, mingling and keeping up appearences,” Padma rolled her eyes.

“Must be nice to be able to take off,” said Severus wistfully as he neared them. “Congratulations Madam Goyle.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Padma stammered.

“Gregory always showed promise when he had enough confidence to apply himself,” Severus said. Severus looked behind Padma and chuckled.

The girls turned to see Parvarti fussing over Gregory’s dress robes. It was apparent they had more of an eastern cut to them and he wasn’t sure how they were supposed to hang.

“Err,” said Padma. “I think I’d better go help them.”

Ginny shook her head and quirked a corner of her mouth.

“Who’d have thunk it?” Ginny said.

Severus put an arm around Hermione and kissed her forehead out of the corner of his mouth. “Some need more urging than others.”

“No man should have to put up with two wives,” said Pieter from behind them. He shuddered. Anna smacked his arm. “What, you want me to take another wife?”

“If she likes dusting, yes. We must go,” Anna said. “They want us to go to the stage area.”

Hermione noticed Sophia was following Dumbledore, her arm in his.

As they approached the stage area they met up with Harry, unmasked. Hermione and Ginny had straggled back to talk to him as he joined their parade.

To Hermione’s surprise, Harry kissed Ginny hello on the cheek and Ginny flushed a deep scarlet. His robes matched hers so perfectly Hermione could only guess it was Harry; not the twins, that had bought Ginny’s robes.

Ginny loved Harry and would never care what he looked like.

Harry knew Ginny well enough to appreciate her. Ginny knew him well enough to see through whatever hare-brained scheme he and Ron came up with next.

In Hermione’s opinion, it was about time. She imagined Molly was thrilled.

Neville was already on stage with his Gran. She was delivering a teary speech about what an honor it was for the Longbottoms to be recognized for their contribution in the fight against Dark Wizards. A large picture of Alice and Frank Longbottom at their wedding hovered in the background. They were beaming and waving excitedly as rice flew around them in the shapes of flowers and doves.

As the Longbottoms made their way offstage to rousing applause, Arthur Weasley stepped into the light from the opposite side of the stage and thanked them. Hermione saw Ron across the stage and waved. As Arthur began speaking, Neville shook Harry’s hand and even quirked a corner of his mouth at Severus when the Potions Master smiled at him thinly and nodded once. His Gran was talking loudly to McGonagall about Frank and the legacy of his line, her tears gone and her iron expression firmly back in place.

Thank God, Neville had convinced her to leave the stuffed vulture at home.

To Hermione’s relief, she saw a long table appear on the stage. As they made their way to it, she saw the audience was more focused on the menus, although when Dumbledore stepped out they all began applauding again.

Hermione chanced a glance at Severus. Ron was pulling out a chair beside him. They were taking their seats and picking their menus up. Typical unromantic, unobservant males.

Other people filed out onto the stage and Hermione spotted Mrs. Weasley join her husband.

On Ron’s other side Hermione saw Neville pull a chair out for Alexandra. At least someone at the table had manners.

Their meal was simple, but delicious. As dessert was served the sky exploded with color.

“Fire dancers!” Severus exclaimed. “Excellent, Molly! Arthur would never have thought of this.”

Molly looked shocked, but thanked him and beamed at Hermione.

“You’re going to love this, dear,” she said, squeezing Hermione’s arm.

Hermione watched as soft orchestra music began to fill the festival area. As Harry passed sets of omnioculars down the length of the table she squinted at the sky. Hermione kept passing them until she got a pair of her own. She raised them to her face and she felt her mouth drop open.

The sparks she had seen in the sky were witches and wizards throwing flame and performing acrobatic tricks on their brooms. She watched as a small Asian wizard spun her broom impossibly like a top and shot multi-colored fire out of her wand. She pulled out of it and created a hoop of flame just as a blonde wizard swooped over her. As he flew away from her, the hoop changed into a butterfly and flitted after him.

The small witch alternately hid from him and teased him, making him grow frustrated in his chase. Other performers, dressed as flaming birds that flashed different colors as different parts of the orchestra played.

Harry slipped her a note jotted on a napkin halfway through the performance. Molly read it as Hermione opened it and burst into giggles.

Bet I’d be better at this than opera.

Hermione giggled uncontrollably and Severus quirked an eyebrow at her. She crumpled the note and tucked it into her robes.

---

“Probably a good idea there was no wine,” Severus said as he and Hermione stepped through their fireplace at Hogwarts.

“Could you believe Narcissa Malfoy was there?” Hermione said, scandalized.

“Dressed in mourning,” said Severus, bitterly. “How clever of her.” He walked to his drink cabinet and poured himself a generous amount of Firewhisky.

Hermione intercepted it on the way to his mouth, and drank before she handed it back to him.

“Thank you,” she said as he drank what was left in the glass. He frowned as he refilled it.

“For what?” Severus asked as he sipped at his glass.

“Going with me,” she said. “I know you didn’t want to.”

“It was nothing,” Severus lied.

He had detested the entire event.

Well, not the entire event. He had always enjoyed fire dancers. Perhaps the Headmaster would consider adding an art to the curriculum. It would be nice to see something like this on a regular basis.

The idea that the bubble-headed Patil brat was having the spawn of the ox-brained Goyle boy was enough to give him a headache. Maybe he’d be lucky and the child would turn out to be a squib.

Having to be forced to hear the exploits of the Longbottom line for the thousandth time would have been the end of him. He was glad they had just caught the end of it.

Potters appearance was disturbing to say the least. Unfortunately, he would probably have the Weasley girl mounted and breeding within half a decade.

Watching Dumbledore lose his dignity and publicly play a lovesick fool was stomach churning. The man had requested six youth serums, for Merlin’s sake. Severus shuttered to think of what he was doing with them.

---

An attractive, red haired young man adjusted his purple dress robes in a long mirror. His full red beard nearly reached his chest, his straight hair was pulled back with a black ribbon. He fingered the side of his nose thoughtfully.

“Was I really this good looking?”

“Of course, you were.”

A short woman with long blonde hair wrapped her arms around him from behind and peered around him at her own reflection. He turned and looked down into her face.

“Sophie-,” he began.

“Albus,” she smiled at his and placed a finger on his lips. “We were young. It was over a half a century ago.”

“You had time to tell me,” Dumbledore said.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“No you’re not,” said Dumbledore.

“No, not really,” Sophia said, standing on her toes to kiss him.

He sighed. The damned woman was insufferable. At least he was wise enough this time to give up.

“The potions will only last a few hours,” Dumbledore said, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

“We should make the best use of our time,” said Sophie with a twinkle in her eye.

“We can talk later,” said Albus, picking her up and hefting her over a shoulder.

She squeaked in delight as he strode across the room and threw her on the bed. She made to take off, but he grabbed her robes and yanked her to him.

Sophia giggled as he growled. Her arms encircled him and began untying his sash.

“I’m not even sure I remember how to do this,” he chuckled and struggled with her robes.

“I think I can help,” said Sophia as Dumbledore’s robes fell open. “You used to like it when I did this.”

Sophia snaked a hand under his robes and watched as Dumbledore’s expression changed.

“Now I remember.”

Chapter

“Thank you for making it down this early, Thomas.” Nigel Warren, a short, balding man with a dark mustache grumbled. He wore a brown mac and a tweed hat that had seen better days.

A tall man in a long black raincoat held an umbrella over them both and grinned down at him. “Nigel, it’s pouring down. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Better off out here than in there,” said the shorter man jerking his head. “Not natural, I’m telling you.”

The door to the small cottage opened and a young red-haired man wearing rubber gloves and carrying a camera came out.

“We’re done with the pictures, said the man, nodding at each of them. He snapped a glove out and offered his hand. “You can take another look before we bag and tag him.”

“Don’t know how you do it,” said James Thomas, shaking his hand. “Gives me the shivers.”

“Wherever there’s a mystery, forensics will always be there to solve the case,” the man boasted.

“Off with you now,” said the shorter detective. “Give us a minute.”

The photographer scuttled off to a white van and the tall man chuckled.

“Must’ve driven the wife nuts when they were kids,” remarked Thomas.

“Drives me nuts now,” said Warren as he pulled two pair of rubber gloves out of his pocket and handed a pair to Thomas. “But she thinks it’s cute that I work with her brother.”

“What can you do?” Thomas chuckled as he struggled with his gloves and tried to keep his umbrella up.

“This one’s creepy,” said Warren, opening the door to the house.

There was a corpse on the floor. Another photographer was taking pictures from all different angles. A stocky man took fingerprints from several objects in the room. A woman with her hair in a bun was taking notes in a black book. She turned as they entered.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” said the woman.

“This is Detective Thomas,” Warren told her. “Thomas, this is Detective Morgan.”

“Pleased to meet you, Detective,” said the woman. She was wearing a feminine black suit and a white shirt. “This is an interesting case. Has Detective Warren filled in the details?”

“No, he just said I should come out,” said Thomas.

He looked down at the corpse. The priest lay prone on the floor. He was positioned as if he had answered a knock at his back door. A look of fear was plastered across his face.

“Know anything about him?” Warren asked.

“Not a lot,” said Morgan. She flipped her book closed and let them to the kitchen. “His housekeeper found him. We talked to her about an hour ago. Thinks some neighborhood children gave him a fright and his heart gave out. He’s led his parish for over twenty years. Christened every child for miles. Married most couples around here. No one ever had a problem with him.”

“Then why is everyone here?” Thomas asked.

“Did you get a look on his face? There was a case just like this years ago, when my father was a copper. Still haunts him.”

“You’ll be talking to other people, of course,” interrupted Thomas.

“Of course,” she stiffened.

“Thank you, Shelley,” said Warren. “We’re all off this early in the morning.” He elbowed Thomas.

Thomas mumbled an apology and offered to fetch coffee and cookies for the crew.

“Thank you,” said Morgan. “That would be wonderful.”

Thomas shuffled off and Morgan turned to Warren.

“No, I was going to have a chat with the housekeeper and put the file in ‘unsolved mysteries,'” Morgan said sarcastically.

“He’s not used to competence,” said Warren. “So good at his job they put him in charge of the interns.”

“Poor man,” Morgan winced.

“Loves it,” said Warren. “Knew he’d be our man.”

“I certainly hope so,” said Morgan.

---

“Madam Bones,” said Thomas into a small black cellular phone as he walked down the street. “I believe we have a problem.”

---

“The Weasleys are joining us for Christmas,” Severus said, reading a scroll from his mother.

“Does that surprise you?” Hermione said as she cast her line. “Pieter and Arthur really hit it off.”

One of the elves had remarked there was an invisible barrier on her ledge, and she had no chance of falling. Since then, Hermione had promised Severus she would join him at least once. So far, she had caught three fish and Severus had caught none. She couldn’t figure out why he thought something he was so easily infuriated with was relaxing. As she pulled out her fourth, he gave up and began reading his mail.

“Mother always liked a full house,” said Severus. “She has a lot of sisters.”

“Must be nice when your house is that big,” said Hermione. “How many Aunts do you have?”

“Eleven on that side,” said Severus. Hermione paled. “Two on fathers.”

“Wow,” said Hermione. “That’s a lot of kids.”

“You should talk,” said Severus, rolling the scroll and placing it next to him on the ledge. “You’re trying to mother an entire school.”

“That’s not fair,” Hermione said, scowling at him.

“You’re eighteen years old, Hermione,” Severus said. “Please. Frolic.”

“I beg your pardon,” Hermione said, a bitter look on her face.

Severus found himself laughing. Not this usual chuckle or clicking sneer, but for once a full laugh. Hermione looked startled.

“Sometimes you remind me of me,” said Severus. “It’s disconcerting at times.”

Hermione threw him a dirty look and recast her line. She hoped she caught another one, just for spite.

Bastard.

---

A post owl swooped down through an owl entrance of number twelve Grimmauld Place a crisp November afternoon and burst into the kitchen. It dropped several letters in a red tray beside the wide chute before it sat on a nearby perch and hooted.

Harry padded over in stocking feet and scratched the owl behind his ear tufts.

“Got a few, Neville,” he said as he fished out the Daily Prophet and a scroll. He passed a scroll and a blue shimmering envelope to Neville. He pocketed the envelope and unrolled the scroll from his Gran.

“Gran says we’re all going to the Snape’s for Christmas,” said Neville, his eyebrows raised.

“Who’s ‘we?'” Harry asked as he reached for a bowl in his kitchen.

“All of us,” said Neville. “You too, Ron.”

“Not bloody likely,” snorted Ron as he stirred a pot of soup.

“Your mum’s already agreed,” said Neville.

Ron grumbled into their lunch, but didn’t say anything more. Harry seemed awfully cheerful.

“You seem keen on the idea,” said Neville.

“First time in France,” said Harry, chancing a glance at Ron.

Ron didn’t seem to notice, but Neville knew the real reason. Harry and Ginny had been writing an awful lot of owls to each other lately.

“I hope the rest of his family isn’t so creepy,” said Ron as he served soup to Harry.

“Pieter seemed alright,” said Neville. “That Anna and your mum showed each other baby pictures all night.”

“Didn’t know you could fit so many pictures in such a small wallet,” remarked Harry.

“The one of Bill naked on a rug was cute,” Neville chuckled. “You should send that one to Fleur.”

“If I can wrestle it away from mum, I will,” Ron said.

“You’re a great brother, you know that Ron?” Harry said as he sat down with his soup.

Neville looked at it and got up to get his own.

“I do try,” said Ron, smiling widely.

“Glad I’ve never made you mad,” snorted Neville as he ladled himself a bowl of soup.

Neville still had a limp, but didn’t require a cane anymore. Occasionally he still carried it because he thought it made him look debonair.

Green flames leapt high in their hearth and they turned to see Hermione stride into the kitchen.

“Hey, Hermione,” said Harry cheerfully. “You’re just in time for lunch.”

“Already ate,” Hermione said. “Is that Mrs. Weasley’s potato soup?”

She had crossed the kitchen and was peering into the pot.

“It’s her recipe,” said Ron.

“Well, maybe just a little,” she said, grudgingly.

“Don’t eat the candy,” Neville said as she sat down. A small dish of glistening ribbon candy sat in the middle of the table.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Hermione. “Is it from Fred and George?”

“Yup,” said Ron, shoveling soup into his mouth.

“What does it do?” Hermione asked.

“No idea,” said Harry. “No one’s been willing to try a piece.”

Hermione shook her head and blew on her soup.

“Does he treat you well, Hermione?” Neville asked.

Everyone at the table froze.

“Honestly,” said Hermione, annoyed. “I should type up a press release.”

Harry laughed and tried to shake out the stiffness Neville’s comment had struck him with.

“He’s smarmy, but decent,” said Harry. “Trust me. I know.”

“Gods, that’s creepy, Harry,” Neville shivered.

“Must take some getting used to,” Hermione said.

“It’s really convenient, actually,” said Harry. “I know all these spells and I didn’t even have to study.”

“Zap me, Harry,” said Neville, jokingly. “I could use some help in the memory department.”

“Knowing you, you’d get it all mixed up,” said Ron, shaking a spoon at him. “Crack the earth in two trying to make a cup of tea.”

“Probably right,” Neville said sheepishly as everyone else laughed. “Got a letter from the Department of Experimental Horticulture, though.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked. “What did they have to say?”

“Want me to work for them,” said Neville.

“Congratulations, Neville!” Hermione exclaimed.

“That’s great news,” said Harry. Ron nodded and sipped at his soup. Hermione had heard nothing about Ron working at all. She was honestly afraid to ask.

“Gran’s really proud,” said Neville. “I think she’s kind of relieved I’m not an Auror. That last skirmish was enough for this family.”

Hermione nodded and glanced at Harry. He looked pained, but it passed quickly.

“So, what brings you to see us?” Ron asked.

“Do I need a reason?” Hermione asked.

“Thought you’d be working,” Neville said, looking at the clock.

“Blaise has it covered,” Hermione said. “It’s calmed down immensely since we made Hodgekins and Gilby fertilize the gardens with dragon dung and very small shovels for making up trauma to get out of a potions test.”

Neville made a disgusted sound.

“I hear we’re going to spend Christmas together,” Harry said.

“All of us?” Hermione said, her eyes widening.

“Anna hit it off with mum and Neville’s Gran,” Ron said. “She’s staying here, but Neville’s coming with us.”

“Wow,” said Hermione wondering how big the estate was.

Harry fixed her with a strange look.

“Not that I don’t want to see you all,” said Hermione, looking at him. “It’s all a surprise and I’m wondering how large the house is. Where will everyone sleep?”

“This house could sleep that lot,” Ron said. “I’m sure his house is the at least this size or larger. They have an estate. This is just a townhouse.”

Green flames crackled in the hearth and Remus Lupin walked into the kitchen.

“Are you going to the Snapes for Christmas, as well?” Ron asked as Remus entered the kitchen. “And don’t you have classes?”

“Not that I know of,” said Remus, looking mildly surprised. “And no, I’m free this afternoon.”

“You can come if you want to,” Hermione said.

“I’ll pass,” Remus said. “But I’m sure these fools will drum up something for New Years.”

“Bit early to plan,” said Harry. “But probably.”

“I’d like to help,” volunteered Hermione.

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” Ron asked.

“What makes you think anything is wrong?” Hermione asked.

“You’re here in the middle of a school day and you want to plan a party at someone else’s house,” said Ron. “Don’t you find that odd?”

Hermione looked back at the eyes boring into her and sighed.

“Severus seems to think I need to get out more,” she sighed.

“Well, I agree with that,” said Ron. “The Ministry will be accepting applications soon. You should apply.”

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Neville interrupted her.

“You can’t stay at Hogwarts your whole life, Hermione.”

Surprisingly, she closed her mouth.

“Wow, Neville,” said Ron. “You have to teach me to do that!”

Hermione made a face at him and ate a spoonful of soup.

“Hey, Hermione,” said Harry, not wanting to see a disagreement on such a good day. “Do you and Snape want to come to my first game?”

“If he can get away,” said Hermione.

“He’s ‘Severus’ now, Harry,” said Remus, sitting near Hermione and elbowing her.

“I’m sorry,” said Harry, shaking his head.

“Must be confusing, sometimes,” said Hermione. “I’m sorry Harry.”

“Hey,” said Harry. “I’m alive.”

“And things have been settled,” said Neville, darkly.

Hermione looked at Neville. He really did look older. Harder. She wasn’t sure this was a good thing.

“And it’s over,” said Lupin. “Thank God.”

They ate in silence until their bowls were empty and Hermione cleared them away.

“It’s kind of neat, though,” said Harry, breaking the silence.

Ron cracked a smile at him.

“You the most powerful wizard in the world, Harry?” Ron asked.

“I think I might be,” said Harry. “Have to talk to Dumbledore.”

Hermione and Neville began to clear the table and put the dishes near the sink tucked away in one corner.

“That’s funny,” Neville said thoughtfully to Hermione as she set the dishes on the basin.

“What?” asked Hermione.

“Harry still needs acknowledgement from Dumbledore to see his own talents,” said Neville.

“Most of the spells transferred from You-Know-Who probably aren’t even legal,” said Hermione.

“That’s not true,” Harry said loudly.

“What?” asked Hermione, dropping a bowl with a loud clang.

“Many spells I learned were perfectly legal,” Harry said. He tapped a glass of water with his wand and ice formed slowly. An ice rose grew and bloomed before it became crystalline.

“Wow, Harry,” Hermione breathed as she took the glass from him.

“It’s permanent,” said Harry. “Will you pass it on to Ginny for me?”

Ron gave Harry a look Hermione couldn’t decipher, but she hazarded a guess.

“Sure,” said Hermione. “She’ll be the envy of every girl at school.”

“What? With a mug like that?” Ron gestured at Harry.

Harry burst out laughing. Hermione was thankful he was accepting his appearance without getting strange about it. Well, except for the Hogsmede incident.

“Sure,” said Hermione.

It was true. Most of the young girls were in awe of Harry. Most of the counseling had to do with fears of Voldemort hiding somewhere in Harry, ready to do him harm, not of Harry himself. A Muggle-born girl suggested an exorcism.

“You’re just jealous you aren’t getting any fan mail,” Harry said smirking.

“Fan mail?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, yea,” said Neville. “Got a room to go through it all. Seems like the whole world had to send an owl.”

“Oh, this I’ve got to see,” said Hermione, laughing.

Harry embarrassedly showed her the room that was intended to be his den. Piles of letters towered on his desk and unopened mail bags littered a corner of the room.

“Good Lord,” Hermione breathed. “You’re answering them all, Harry?”

“The twins are helping,” admitted Harry.

“The twins?” Hermione asked, confused.

“They figured out how to enchant a Quoting Quill to write in my handwriting,” Harry said.

“Don’t you mean a Quik Quotes Quill?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Ron said, appearing behind them. “Quick Quotes have themes.”

“Themes?” Hermione asked.

“Yea,” said Harry. “Rita Skeeter had a ‘Tragic’ one. They have other ‘flavors’ like Romance or Annoyed.”

Hermione giggled.

“Quoting Quills just take dictation,” said Ron. “Better that way.”

“No kidding,” said Hermione practically choking at an image of a lonely witch getting an ‘romance’ letter from Harry. “You don’t want anyone to accidentally think you’re proposing.”

Harry made a face.

“Want the grand tour?” Harry asked.

Ron’s room was still orange as ever, but with more posters than ever adorning his walls. Only one token poster of the Hornets was stuck on the back of his door. It was still Cannons all the way for Ron.

Neville’s Gran helped him decorate his rooms in honey-colored woods and cream flowered wallpaper. It was sparse, but Neville said he was working on it.

Harry had done his bedroom in dark woods and light yellow accents.

“Getting into the Hornet’s thing?” Hermione asked him, an eyebrow quirked. He had just grinned at her.

Hermione walked from room to room, impressed at all the work the boys had accomplished.

“Mum helped a lot,” Ron admitted.

When her tour was wrapped up, Hermione looked at a timepiece Anastasia had sent her.

“I hate to go,” said Hermione, cringing.

Ron, Neville, and Harry had seen her to the kitchen. Remus had already returned to the school after he had finished his soup and borrowed a book.

“One of us is usually home,” Neville said, as he handed her the ice rose for Ginny. “You’re always welcome here.”

“Thanks,” said Hermione, gratefully. Then she thought for a second. “Is it alright if I brought Blaise, sometime?”

The boys were unusually silent. Hermione knew they didn’t trust Slytherins, except for Gregory, who had changed sides, thanks to Padma. They had good reason.

“Of course,” said Harry, finally. Ron shot him a look, but he ignored it. “Any friend of yours is welcome here.”

“But Harry—” Ron began to protest.

“Dumbledore trusts him,” said Harry. “And he always was a disappointment to his father.”

“Bloody hell, that’s creepy, Harry!” Neville exclaimed with a semi-disgusted look on his face.

“Well, it’s not my fault!” Harry burst out.

Hermione wanted to toss Floo powder in the hearth and disappear, but she was riveted to the spot. Ron looked as if he’d like nothing more than to join her and whoosh off back to Hogwarts.

“Um—” Ron said awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

“Can’t you do something?” Neville asked.

“If I could, wouldn’t you think I would have done it?” Harry asked, obviously annoyed.

“I’m not sure I would,“ Ron said.

“What?” said the kitchen in unison, confused.

“Harry, do you even comprehend what you’ve been given?” Ron asked quietly. “That’s a lot of power, Harry.”

“I don’t understand,” said Harry.

“Harry,” said Hermione. “You know it all.”

Harry shook his head, not understanding.

“All Voldemorts secrets, his motivations, his plans,” Hermione said. “His knowledge.”

“The historians have already—” Harry began.

“Harry, you have names and locations,” said Ron, to everyone’s surprise. “You know who can be trusted and who can’t. You know where things are hidden. Where people disappeared to. Has anyone questioned you about that yet?”

“No,” said Harry, paling. “Good Lord.”

“You aren’t responsible,” Hermione said quickly. “No one will blame you.”

“You don’t know that,” Harry said.

“Have you even read any of that mail, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Harry confessed. “Just got the room set up. I assumed it was just the standard assortment. Half love me, the other half wants me dead.”

“You might be surprised,” Hermione said, shaking her head.

“Either way,” said Ron. “Even if Dumbledore is more powerful than you, think of what that means. Think of how powerful he is, and you’re only eighteen.”

“Too bad there’s no wizarding college,” Harry joked.

“What’s college?” Ron asked.

“School after school,” Hermione said.

“What on earth would you need that for?” Ron asked, flabbergasted.

Hermione and Harry explained the collegiate system to Ron. Neville seemed impressed.

“I can see how it would help Harry,” Ron said. “But what about the rest of us?”

“Think of what four extra years of focused experiments and schooling would do for the wizarding community,” said Hermione.

“Might give a few more a chance at becoming Aurors,” Ron mused.

“Might give me a chance at anything,” said Neville.

“Come off it Neville,” said Ron. “You were always tops in Herbology.”

“You need to believe in yourself, Neville,” said Hermione.

Neville gave her a small smile and his cheeks turned red.

“If I need to know anything, I’ll send you an owl,” Neville said shyly.

“Send me an owl anytime you want,” Hermione said. “That goes for all of you.”

“Will do,” said Ron.

“And don’t bicker,” she chided, as she threw a handful of powder into the fire. “Lots of things have happened that we can’t change now. Deal with it.”

Neville looked guilty. They all looked guilty, actually.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, as she disappeared.

Chapter

Dear Mr. Potter,
Our daughter, Katherine Biggins, disappeared the summer of 1978. Enclosed is her picture.
Her mother and I know she probably died long ago but were hoping you might be able to help us locate her remains. It would mean a lot to her mother.

Sincerely,
Harold Biggins

“Another one,” Neville said in wonderment. The envelope dangled in his hand as he read the letter.

“How many people went missing, Harry?” Ron asked, digging through a pile of letters.

“In the last fifty years?” Harry asked. “I don’t know.”

“Fucking creepy,” Neville muttered under his breath as he tucked the letter back into the envelope.

---

Severus woke up with something warm and heavy near him. A hand seemed to be gripping his morning erection firmly. It was not his hand. He opened his eyes to see a brown pair peering back at him.

“Can I help you?” he asked, trying to wake up and not kill Hermione with morning breath.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice muffled by the covers.

Severus lay back and let his wife molest him. Life wasn’t so bad.

“Severus I-,” a deep voice said.

Severus jumped.

“I’m sorry!” Remus’ head said, laughing from the small fireplace they had transfigured in Severus’ quarters in case of a strategic exit.

“Morning, Remus,” Hermione laughed.

“I’ll come back later,” Remus chuckled.

“Don’t bother,” said Hermione, her bushy head emerging from under the covers. Thankfully, she was still in her pajamas. “I was just leaving.”

Hermione snickered at Severus’ expression as she scampered from the room.

“Must be nice, having a young wife,” said Remus wistfully.

“Exhausting at times,” said Severus wearily. “What do you need?”

“Arthur found quite a few potions in the raids and he’s not sure about some of them.”

“One can only imagine,” Severus groaned.

“You are the best, Severus,” said Remus.

“I’m sure,” Severus said bitterly.

“The Ministry is willing to pay you for your contributions,” said Remus slowly, gauging Severus’ reaction.

“The Ministry is paying former Death Eaters for assistance these days?” Severus asked, an eyebrow raised.

“A few new laws have made their way through,” said Remus, smiling.

“Imagine that,” said Severus dryly. Remus tried to look innocent.

“Arthur’s doing the best he can,” Remus said. “And we’re still not sure who we can trust.”

“Do you not have access to Potter?” Severus said, climbing out of bed.

“Of course,” said Remus. “But that still doesn’t help us much.”

“He can identify every Death Eater there ever was,” said Severus stalking to his coat rack and retrieving the fluffy yellow robe Anastasia had sent over from the Russian estate. Remus raised an eyebrow. Severus ignored him. It was too early in the morning.

“But he doesn’t have the sense to stay away from people like Rita Skeeter,” Remus remarked, still smiling at the robe. “You know, yellow looks good on you.”

“It was from my mother,” said Severus stiffly. “Quite right about Potter. The Dark Lord’s memory with no wisdom. Pray for the world.”

Suddenly Molly Weasleys head popped into existence near Remus’.

“Oh, what a lovely color,” Molly exclaimed. Severus groaned inwardly. His reputation was ruined. At least she hadn’t shown up with Remus. He’d probably still be hearing her screech at him.

“Morning,” said Severus cooly. She had been unpleasant to him, but if he picked a fight with her the rebuttal from Hermione might be too much to take.

“I wanted to tell you,” she started nervously. Severus was reminded of all the Weasley boys when caught doing something wrong. He found himself feeling nervous. What had the woman done? What was she capable of? “I hear Hermione is very happy. Thank you.”

Severus was stunned. His mouth moved but no words came out. Molly disappeared from sight.

“Should I owl the Daily Prophet?” Remus asked, smiling his slight crooked smile. “You in yellow and Molly getting near to an apology, must be a polyjuice gang running about.”

“Very funny,” Severus said annoyed. The day had started out so well. “Tell Arthur I have some time in the afternoon.”

“Very well,” said Remus. “Report to the Department of Mysteries.”

“Can I bring Hermione?” Severus asked quickly. Remus looked quizzically at him. “She’s a valuable assistant. Reads like a most people breathe.”

“Why not? She would probably find it very informative. I’ll memo for another badge.”

“Thank you,” said Severus. With a small pop the fire faded from green to orange and died as Remus disappeared.

---

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked as she reached for her pumpkin juice during Breakfast in the Great Hall.

“The Department of Mysteries,” said Severus innocently as he sipped from his coffee.

“Really?” she asked flatly.

“They have the best equipment,” said Severus innocently.

“I’m sure they do,” said Hermione.

“I need you, Hermione,” said Severus. “You’re competent.”

It was the nicest compliment he had ever given her.

She blushed and brushed his knee under the table. Severus frantically tried to remember whether the tablecloth hung down low enough or if his wife had just done that in full view of all the students. Even if it didn’t, no one seemed to notice.

“I’ll pencil you in,” she said, smiling at him.

---

“Here are your things.” The Auror smiled as he handed Severus and Hermione their wands and badges after they had been scanned.

Hermione looked at hers and began snickering. Severus looked over her shoulder to see: Hermione Granger-Snape underneath it in smaller letters it said: Know-It-All.

“Well, it’s obvious the Weasleys are in charge,” said Severus, sniffing.

Severus chanced a glance at his own badge. It clearly stated: Severus Snape: Potions Master. He was relieved.

The Ministry had been reconstructed almost identically to the way it was before, except for the fountain. The centaur and the elf now stood beside the wizards; their arms raised. No wands lay in their hands, but the statues were fitted for alteration. Things were changing.

Hermione and Severus were directed to the Department of Mysteries at the information booth, and then headed to an elevator.

Arthur met them when the doors opened at their destination and walked with them along a long winding corridor.

“We weren’t really sure who else to ask,” said Arthur, rubbing a bald patch on the back of his head. “We aren’t even sure if they’re all potions.”

Severus stiffened. “I would hope we have Ministry equipment at our disposal.”

“Of course,” said Arthur. “All the toys you could want.”

This might not be so bad after all.

---

“They’ll grow back, Hermione,” Severus said in their receiving room. He was trying desperately not to laugh.

Hermione felt the bare ridge above her eyes. She was lucky her face was intact.

She had unstopped the small bottle and a white blaze had exploded out of it. The dragon hide suit had protected her from the blaze, but her faceplate had cracked. Thankfully, the only casualty was her eyebrows.

Severus had been near to hysterical when they had lifted her unconscious form from the floor. After her injuries were deemed superficial, he began to see the humor in her appearance.

“Maybe Madam Pomfrey has something that will speed it up,” said Hermione.

“Perhaps,” said Severus handing her a tumbler. He entertained a thought about Hermione sporting bushy eyebrows and smirked.

---

Ginny sat behind her drawn curtains and looked at an ice rose by the light of her wand.

“Oh, Harry,” she said softly, reaching out to touch a petal.

To her amazement, the flower bloomed. In the center a transparent image of Harry smiled and blew a kiss at her. Then the bud tightened to its original state.

Ginny frowned. What was that? It was wonderful of course, but what had triggered the effect?

She touched the petals. It stayed firm. She even tried to wiggle a petal open, but it wouldn’t budge. She tapped it with her wand. Nothing.

“Bugger, Harry,” Ginny muttered frustrated. The flower bloomed and he made a face at her. She started. It closed.

She seriously doubted he was directly connected to the rose itself, but it probably had expressive properties, like a picture. Her first statement had been favorable, so he had blown her a kiss. When she had cursed him, it had made a face at her. Curious.

“I love you, Harry Potter,” said Ginny softly. She was glad she had put a silencing charm around her, so she didn’t wake her dorm mates. They would think she was loony. The flower bloomed and Harry blew her another kiss. Well, this was interesting.

“I want to quit school and join the circus, Harry,” said Ginny. The flower bloomed and Harry made a horrified expression at her. It looked very strange with his serpentine eyes.

So, she could gauge his opinion this way. Strange. She wondered if this was his intention. She would have to owl him tomorrow.

Either way, it was a lovely present. Not creepy at all.

---

Hermione walked through a fireplace in the entrance hall of the Amazons. She pulled her dark blue robes around her. She didn’t know how the Amazons lived in togas. The air was pleasant smelling and crisp, but it was cold. She had chosen medium weight robes and carried a cloak just in case.

“Hello!” Alexandra called out across the massive receiving hall, waving at Hermione. Alexandra was standing near a pillar with two women Hermione didn’t know.

One of them was short and stout. Her toga was a light green with a red belt. She had a wide face and nose. A large mass of dark hair was piled on her head. She held a leather book and a white quill in her hands.

The other woman was tall and so pale she was almost devoid of color. Her eyes were light blue and her hair white. She looked young, younger than Hermione, but Hermione had never seen a being like her. There was no telling how old the girl was, but she also carried a leather book and quill. Her toga and belt were both white.

“Thank you for entrusting me with a portal to your Floo network,” Hermione said, smiling and clutching her bookbag.

“Thank you for giving us the opportunity to examine such a treasure,” the tall girl said in a monotone voice that seemed to produce a metallic buzz behind her words. Her mouth moving didn’t seem to affect the muscle movement of the rest of her face. It was unnerving.

Hermione tried not to look surprised, but knew she failed by the way the strange girl looked at her, clearly amused.

“When the Jotun left this plane of existence over a millennia ago, Asta was left behind.” Alexandra said.

Hermione didn’t know what to say, but the girl called Asta laughed. The short woman glared at the younger girl.

“Forgive me,” the Asta said, apologetically. “I will reinforce my shields.”

“Asta can naturally pick up thoughts,” the stout woman explained. “Sometimes she forgets everyone does not practice Occlumancy.”

“I actually do,” Hermione admitted. Harry had taught her, although it probably wouldn’t hurt to ask Severus to tutor her. “I’ll be careful to shield myself thoroughly in the future.”

“This is Nyssa,” Alexandra said, motioning to the stout witch. “She will be overseeing our experiments.”

“We hear you have an interesting item,” Nyssa said excitedly.

“That’s what I hear as well,” Hermione said, thankful someone with knowledge was willing to help her. The Amazons were more than accommodating.

Hermione followed the Amazons to a gold square, inlaid in the white seamless floor. The square rose to create a railing before a platform started to rise in the air. Hermione likened it to a freeform elevator. An ornate carved trapdoor covered in colorless roses opened in the ceiling above them and they ascended through it.

They rose through a brightly illuminated room with large windows. Dozens of women sat at dark wooden desks scribbling on different colored parchments. Rows of different colored ink bottles were lined along the top edge of their desks. On the corner of each desk was a small golden cage with a small dove seemingly made of ice flittering in it. No one seemed to notice as they rose up and through the room and through a trapdoor decorated in stone tendrils of ivy.

The next floor looked like a library, the paneling dark and large tables lined up with volumes stacked on them; except for the spines of all the books were a bright brilliant blue. All the amazons here seemed to have silver belts to their togas, although the colors of the togas themselves seemed to take on every color of the rainbow. Hermione tried to make out at least one title before they skipped past the room, but failed miserably.

If there was a code to the toga colors, Hermione couldn’t figure it out. Sometimes, it was obvious the color of the belts meant something, but confronted with the general population Hermione couldn’t differentiate any type of uniformity.

They rose through a smaller hexagonal room with six doors leading from it in different directions. All its surfaces were dark wood and one door had a silver crescent moon inlaid in it.

“There’s the bathroom, if you need it,” Asta announced.

Hermione tried not to laugh. Perhaps everything here didn’t have a mystical purpose after all.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, trying to make her voice sound steady. She suspected Asta only shielded herself when it suited her.

‘You are bright,’ a voice sounded in her head and Hermione noticed Asta’s white hair tinge blue. Hermione had the distinct impression that it was her species’ way of blushing.

Asta opened her mind and Hermione got the impression that the girl was insatiably curious about the outside world. She meant no harm, but the other women would disapprove of her firing off questions at Hermione, who was considered an honored guest.

Hermione promised Asta time for her questions as the platform slowed down and halted in a square room with white walls and thick red carpeting. There was one door leading out of it.

Alexandra stepped from the platform and drew her wand from in her folds of fabric.

She drew a small pattern in front of the door and Hermione heard an audible click. Alexandra pushed the door open and the other women filed through, Hermione behind them.

The lab was stark white, following a trend Hermione was noticing. The windows were large and let in an abundance of daylight.

“Well then,” said Nyssa, slapping the front of her leather book brusquely. “Time to work.”

Hermione started walking to a table full of unfamiliar instruments.

After hours of exposure to different forms of stimuli, Hermione, Alexandra, Nyssa, and Asta were left frowning at the small pendant.

“Well, that was informative,” Asta buzzed, an unimpressed look on her face.

“You need to learn that a failure is just as informative as a success,” Nyssa chastised as she picked up the shard and watched it swing on the end of its chain.

“Well,” Asta said slowly. “It’s impervious to fire, won’t chill in prolonged cold, and has a horrible habit of reversing an electrical charge.”

Alexandra snorted, her face bowed over a parchment full of notes.

Hermione had been further surprised to find Asta could create an electrical charge at will. When Asta reached out to test the shard she had been zapped back by a powerful charge that burned one of her fingertips. It had been easily bandaged, but Asta had taken on an attitude towards the shard.

Alexandra had declared it an act of karma for Asta abusing that ability previously. Asta had lifted a thin white eyebrow and threatened to charge Alexandra’s chamber doorknob so powerfully it would take weeks to take the curl out of her hair.

“It also scratches glass, but isn’t diamond,” Hermione said, getting back to business and squinting over Alexandra’s shoulder. Alexandra noted this and looked at Hermione.

“Is there anything else?” Alexandra asked.

“We still need to cover acids and bases,” Nyssa said, flipping a page in her leather book.

“That will only take forever,” Asta sighed, lowering her eyebrows.

“There’s always tomorrow,” Alexandra said. “I believe it is time for both of our dinners.”

Hermione nodded, for the first time noticing how fatigued she felt.

“Excellent idea,” Hermione said. “Is tomorrow fine for you? I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“The intrusion is all ours,” Alexandra said putting her quill down. “We have no right to ask you to analyze the shard at all. It is a great honor to be allowed to examine it.”

“Well, it’s a great honor for me to be allowed to study here,” said Hermione wincing at her choice of words. “If that’s what you could call it.”

“Tomorrow then,” Nyssa said firmly, slapping her book shut. “I think we’ve all had quite enough for today.”

Alexandra and Asta started buzzing around the lab cleaning up supplies and instruments. Nyssa pulled Hermione aside.

“I hear your mate is a Potions Master,” Nyssa said, her dark eyes gauging Hermiones reaction.

“Yes, he is,” Hermione said, wondering if this had to do with the acid and base testing.

“We would be able to recompensate him for consulting if he was willing to help us,” Nyssa suggested looking helpful.

“I’ll have to ask,” Hermione said, hoping her voice sounded non-committal.

Severus had been putting extra time into a student he had deemed hopeless, but out of class and away from the other students seemed to do fine. Hermione suggested remedial classes and Severus was astounded at how fast the boy had picked up on things.

Nyssa seemed very grateful and went to lock up a few cabinets, giving Hermione a moment to return the shard to its usual place around her neck. She was starting to feel naked without it.

---

“What?” Severus asked sharply.

“The shard I got from the Jotun-,” Hermione started.

“I heard you,” Severus said loudly, getting to his feet from the couch and striding to her across his receiving room in his chambers at Hogwarts. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I just thought it was of jewelry,” Hermione said. She was sitting near the window in her reading place, a steaming cup of tea on the small table near her. “I had no proof it was anything else.”

Severus held his hand out and Hermione reluctantly slipped the shard from its place around her neck and handed it to him. Her legs unfolded from under her and she placed her book down after marking her page.

“Is there anything else you would like to tell me?” Severus sneered as he undid the leather pouch.

“I’m raising a Chimera under my bed and Aragog has promised me one of his next clutch,” Hermione snapped back sarcastically. “Hope you like pets.”

Crookshanks meowed loudly near Hermione’s feet. He looked distinctly insulted.

“Don’t be silly,” Hermione murmured as she picked him up and placed him in her lap.

Severus glared at her and lifted the shard up to the light.

‘I’m married to the offspring of a god,’ Severus mused to himself. For a second he watched red lightning flash through the shard.

“Is there any pattern you can follow?” Severus asked. “With the lights?”

“None I can follow,” Hermione said pulling a small notebook and pen out of her robes. Forget quills for note taking. They just weren’t practical.

“Will the Amazons mind traveling?” Severus asked.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, thinking instantly of Asta.

“I accept their offer under the insistence that I observe the testing,” Severus said returning the shard to the pouch.

“I’ll relay the message,” Hermione said.

Chapter

Hermione bustled about the ballroom fidgeting. She was waiting for the Amazonian contingency that was due to arrive at the Russian estate to analyze the shard.

Sloozhanka shook her small head as she watched Hermione fuss over small pink flowers in a vase near a window.

Their bickering had started this morning when Hermione had insisted in wearing ‘inappropriate clothing for guests of this magnitude.’ Hermione had tried to explain to the little elf that she knew the Amazonians that were coming on a more personal level and semiformal dress robes were inappropriate for working in.

“These women are madam’s friends, yes?” Sloozhanka asked.

“More like colleagues,” Hermione said, wondering of Sloozhanka knew what ‘colleagues’ meant. The flowers kept sagging on the right side in a most uncooperative way. Hermione took her wand out and perked them up. “We are working together and have developed a camaraderie.”

“Madam is in a fine family now,” Sloozhanka said, placing her tiny fists on her hips. “It is not necessary for Madam to work.”

“Madam likes doing something,” Hermione said in an annoyed tone, turning to face the elf. “Madam would go batty with nothing to do. Working is interesting.”

“There are plenty of things to do,” Sloozhanka insisted stubbornly. “Ball Season is almost upon us and Madam hasn’t even begun to prepare herself.”

“Beg pardon,” Hermione said taken aback. What on earth was ‘Ball Season?’

Green flames leaped up in the fireplace. Alexandra, Asta, and Nyssa stepped through the flames into the Snape ballroom.

“Madam has a responsibility to represent the family socially when the season starts,” the little elf snapped briefly before disapperating with a small pop.

“What on earth was that about?” Alexandra asked confusedly.

“I’m not entirely sure I want to know.” Hermione had a horrified look on her face.

Asta projected an image she must have gleaned from Sloozhanka’s mind. Women and men in dress robes swept across a large floor to a classical piece of music. There was an image of Anastasia and Jacob much younger and laughing in an alcove as a very young Severus pirouetted in front of them in very tiny dress robes and tiny curled toe shoes.

“Oh, good lord,” Hermione muttered under her breath, despite the terribly cute version of Severus.

“As if you need any more to do,” Asta remarked.

Hermione made a mental note to ask Severus about Occlumancy.

“Where’s that husband of yours?” Alexandra peered about. Asta shuffled her feet on the floor and was delighted with the wave effect of the ballroom floor.

“Preparing his lab.” Hermione bowed to Nyssa who returned the formality. “He’ll be ready to receive us and begin as soon as you’re ready.”

“I want to see a man!” Asta said to Nyssa excitedly. “Are they very tall?”

Hermione blinked. Asta had never seen a man. The chances Nyssa had seen one was minimal as well.

“My husband is fairly tall,” Hermione said slowly as she led them from the ballroom. “Some men are very small. Just like some women are very small.”

Asta looked disappointed. Hermione wondered what she had heard about men.

Hermione would have loved to walk them through some of the finer rooms to an extraordinary laboratory, well lit with a high ceiling and spotless instruments whistling and whirring.

Unfortunately, a sullen teenage Severus had decided his lab was best tucked away in a subbasement.

An embarrassed Hermione led the women through the kitchens as they made their way to the basement entrance.

“What is that?” Asta demanded as Hermione reached for the brass knob on the basement door. She turned to see Asta pointing at a bowl of fruit.

“What is what?” Hermione asked.

“Asta!” Nyssa hissed, embarrassed.

Asta looked reproachful. She pointed at a piece of fuzzy orange fruit in the bowl.

“A peach?” Hermione asked blankly.

“Peach.” Asta rolled the word around in her mouth. She put her face near it and inhaled deeply. “What are they for?”

“It’s fruit. You eat it.” Hermione tried not to look confused.

“It’s not just for scent?” Asta asked tentatively reaching out a hand to give the peach a poke.

Nyssa slapped Asta’s hand. “Stop that.”

Hermione laughed. “I’ll be sure to have peaches added to lunch. I think you’ll like them very much.”

Nyssa looked thankful for the quick solution to a distraction. Hermione had a feeling Asta would have many questions about many things, but Wizarding Studies was not the reason the Amazons were here.

Hermione finally broke down as they made their way through the pantry. “I’m sorry for the informality.”

“I wish you had to walk through the kitchens to get to our lab,” Alexandra laughed as she bit into an apple she had pinched out of a bin.

Kari had opted to stay at the Snape estate for a few weeks following the Final Battle, just to make sure it really was all over. Alexandra had visited and had become very comfortable, although Hermione and Severus had been working at Hogwarts and had not been able to join them.

Nyssa sighed resignedly over the younger Amazon’s behavior. Hermione patted her on the shoulder and the older woman smiled wearily. “Sometimes it is like getting kittens to obey.”

“I know what you mean.” Hermione thought of Harry and Ron.

The women would their way through the levels of sub-basement until they came to a heavy wooden door with a much worn, dusty Slytherin crest on it. Hermione knocked.

The door swung open to reveal Severus puttering about, lighting Bunsen burners and stoking small fires of different colored flame held within stone bowls that ran along a polished black counter.

“Is that Archimedes Light!” Nyssa exclaimed, all protocol aside. She scurried up to examine the contents of the stone bowls.

“It is.” Hermione could have sworn Severus smirked.

“Asta! Come here!” Nyssa barked.

Asta stepped forward and licked her lips at the sight of the bowls. Hermione felt nervous. Archimedes Light was highly volatile. She wasn’t even sure why Severus had prepared samples.

“This is a fine example!” Nyssa went on as if the others weren’t in the room. “The Jotun used to be masters of Archimedes Light. Once lit, it needs no fuel. Once burned by it, you will be forever scarred.”

“It smells wonderful!” Asta said, practically swooning.

The others looked at her quizzically. There was no smell.

“You smell something?” Nyssa asked?

“Like daydreams and nightmares!” Asta said excitedly. “Wishes and hopes and desires and secrets!”

She picked up a bowl and inhaled deeply. Snape moved to take it from her before she hurt herself, but he watched as the flames licked her face harmlessly. She should have been screaming. He looked at Nyssa, but she looked bewildered.

Before they could do anything, Asta lifted the bowl to her lips and gulped the contents down.

Nyssa let out a tiny scream. Alexandra dropped her apple and covered her mouth with her hands.

Asta stood there. Then she burped. Tiny bolts of lightening shot out of her mouth. She looked embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry. Don’t know what came over me. That was the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Good Lord,” Severus swayed on his feet.

“How do you feel?” Nyssa demanded. She had grabbed Asta by the forearms and was practically shaking her. She looked terrified.

“Like your head does after your third cup of tea in the morning.” Asta said. She looked giddy.

Nyssa let go of Asta. “Years with you and we still know practically nothing.”

“I didn’t know either.” Asta reasoned with her. “But it was lovely. Do you think maybe I can have another?”

“Hello, Severus,” Alexandra said, finally acknowledging him as she searched the floor for her apple. “And how has your morning been?”

“Hello,” said Severus, weakly. “Fine, with the exception of your friend gulping down toxins like cocktails. Any more surprises for me?”

“What’s a cocktail?” Asta asked inquisitively.

“Nothing you need,” Hermione interjected quickly. “Ever.” Severus raised an eyebrow. “Just try not to drink any more fire until we’re done using it.”

Asta seemed to be pleased with the idea of another tasty drink later. Nyssa looked at her suspiciously. Hermione wondered if Asta was drunk. Severus seemed not to mind and gave Asta a bowl of fresh peas to shell to distract her.

“What potion is that for?” Nyssa asked Severus quietly as she kept an eye on Asta.

“It’s not. It’s for lunch.”

“Smart.”

---

Hours later Severus and the ladies made their way back to the kitchens. Asta was giddy with four cups of Archimedes Light. Severus had reasoned it was easier than trying to dispose of it and Nyssa had given up protesting.

The research had been discouraging. They knew nothing more about the shard, except it didn’t seem to react to anything at all. As far as Severus could tell it was nothing more than an indestructible night light.

“Well, you can’t expect them to relinquish a powerful magic item,” Alexandra shrugged.

“But it’s a piece of the rainbow bridge,” Nyssa insisted. “It’s sacred. There has to be something we’re missing.”

“The path to the other planes may have been a sacred thing to the humans, but it was just a road to the Gods until it was shattered,” Severus shrugged. “Albeit a road with very limited access.”

Nyssa looked at Severus skeptically.

“I think it’s time to consult the epics,” Nyssa said slowly.

“We don’t have access to the epics.” Asta was sniffing at a plate of cut up peach curiously. “Brotherhood holds the epics. Too bad they can’t read them.” She gave a buzzing giggle as she reached out a finger and roasted the peach with a small snap of lightening from her fingertip.

Severus and Hermione glanced at each other. It was apparent neither of them had a clue, and neither of them was sure it was appropriate to ask.

“You have family in the brotherhood.” Alexandra leveled a look at Severus.

Asta looked at Hermione. Hermione saw every reference to Pieter she had in her mind flash before her eyes.

“What in blazes was that!” Severus thundered as he shook his head.

“I think she may have a control problem when drunk.” Alexandra looked apologetic.

“You ripped right through my barriers!” Severus accused.

“What barriers?” Asta slurred. “Can we go to the lake later?”

Nyssa looked alarmed as Asta swooned. Severus leaped forward and caught Asta before she banged into the kitchen table. She snored loudly.

“We can have her moved to a bedroom while she sleeps it off.” Hermione said reassuringly to Nyssa. “Severus can see if he can get a hold of Pieter.”

Nyssa relaxed visibly. Hermione wasn’t sure if this is from the tentative offer of help from the brotherhood, or avoiding taking a drunken Asta back to the Amazons immediately.

---

Green flames leaped in the ballroom fireplace and Hermione, Alexandra, and Nyssa curtsied as three representatives from the Brotherhood strode through the flames. They had agreed to meet at such short notice, but seemed offended they were not informed of the pendant when it was first acquired.

Pieter looked very handsome in the robes the brothers wore. They were a thick fabric of burgundy and black.

The older gentleman in the party looked stern as his eyes fell on Hermione. He was taller than Pieter, but nearing an elderly state. His white hair was cropped close to his head and his skin looked as if he didn’t see the sun much.

The third man was Viktor Krum. He winked at Hermione as they bowed back to the Amazons.

When this formality was done, Viktor stepped forward and scooped Hermione up in a hug. She squeaked in surprise. She saw Severus frowning out of the corner of her eye.

“Viktor!” Pieter laughed. He stepped forward to shake the hand and kiss the cheek of Alexandra. “Put my dear cousin down! We are supposed to appear mysterious and regal.” Anna had insisted the girls come visit during their visit after the Final Battle, and Pieter was quite fond of Alexandra and Kari.

“Don’t know why I even bother.” The elder man made a disgusted noise. Nyssa looked at him sympathetically.

“Let us see this bit of jewelry you carry.” The older man peered at Hermione. “It seems that Muggle bloodlines can be far more valuable than we formerly gave them credit for.”

Viktor gave Hermione a proud look as Pieter shot a look at the older gentleman.

Hermione wasn’t surprised the Brotherhood had prejudices against non-magical people. Most of the time they were so isolated they had no cause to meet Muggles.

The older man stayed silent, but looked at Hermione, waiting for her to show the pendant.

Hermione pulled the silver chain with a leather pouch from beneath her robes. She fought her hair as she pulled it over her head and handed it to the older gentleman when he held his hand out.

Pieter breathed in as the pouch was removed.

“Extraordinary.” The grey-haired man squinted at the lights inside. “Have you figured out how to read it yet?”

“Read it?” Hermione whispered faintly.

“It seems as if we have some translations to trade.” Pieter looked at the older man meaningfully.

“It seems as if we may.”

Chapter

Hermione smiled pleasantly as she surveyed the table in front of her. History was being made at the Snape estate. Muggle-born, pureblood, Amazons, Jotun, and members of the Brotherhood all sat at the same table, exchanging ideas and enjoying a pleasant meal. She felt as if all were right in the world.

Then a small bun hit Asta on the side of the head. Alexandra stifled a giggle.

“Tatiana!” Anna cried out embarrassedly. Anna scolded her second youngest child.

Asta made a funny face at the tiny girl that was still squealing in delight. “She has quite good aim. Have you handed her a javelin yet to see what she can do?”

Hermione stifled a laugh at Anna’s expression.

“I think perhaps she should be steadier on her feet first.” Anna moved all other easily thrown food away from her Tatiana.

“We will take you to the range when you are steadier on your feet.” Asta spoke in slow English to the little girl. “And see what you can do with a bow.”

Anna looked less than thrilled, but Pieter’s booming laugh filled the Snape dining hall.

“We will have a Fire Dancer, a dragon trainer, and a warrioress! What an interesting time we will have!” He waved his wine glass with emphasis. “I wonder what little Boris will have in store for us!”

“Boris will be a dentist!” Misha howled with laughter. Hermione chuckled as she stirred the last of her after dinner tea. Misha had been far too interested in teeth lately after learning what Hermione’s Muggle parents did for a living. Hermione wondered what her own children would drive her mad with.

The elder gray-haired man from the Brotherhood shook his head and chuckled. Hermione had learned Nicolai was an expert in translations from the Brotherhood’s scholar caste and didn’t get out much.

“Nicolai, are the novices this ill behaved?” Anna looked at her giggling children exasperatedly.

“Most of our novices are older than this, but in large numbers they certainly don’t act like it.” Nicolai buttered the bun that had ricocheted off Asta’s head and onto his plate and took a bite. “Although we do have our ways of making them behave.” He looked at Misha darkly.

The little boy gulped.

Anna waved her wand at her children and cleaned them off. Then she scooped Boris up into her arms and shooed the children from the dining room. “It is obvious from all this playing that you are done eating.”

Pieter chuckled merrily and smiled at Nicolai. “Gardening is not all that frightening if I remember correctly.”

“Yes, but it’s tedious and repetitive and young ones hate it.” Nicolai waved a hand and his wine glass refilled itself.

“Perhaps it would be prudent to retire to the study where we can talk about negotiations.” Nyssa looked meaning.

“Of course.”

They all rose from the table and made their way to Jacob’s study. Asta seemed particularly enamored with the grass floor of the dining room and shuffled her feet softly as they left.

Severus led them into his father’s study where he assured Asta there would be more tea waiting for them, along with the research notes they had gone over previous to dinner.

“The method of research you used was quite complex.” Nicolai said with a patronizing note in his voice. “It was not your fault you didn’t understand what you had.”

Nyssa gave him an annoyed look. “Well perhaps if the Brotherhood didn’t keep its linguistic studies so secret, we wouldn’t have had this problem and wouldn’t have wasted so much time with so much at stake.”

“We have no idea if this leads to anything of interest.” Pieter brushed them off. “For all we know it could be a translation of a childs song.”

“Or it could trigger something totally destructive.” Nyssa’s chin stuck out stubbornly.

“I thought we’d ruled that out.” Asta interrupted, getting an annoyed look from both Nyssa and Nicolai.

Pieter gave Hermione a tired look and Viktor heaved a sigh. Nyssa and Nicolai had begun bickering about the way the Amazons had handled the artifact soon after their introductions.

“Anyway,” Hermione began in a frustrated tone. “Can it be easily translated or is it something out of your expertise?”

Nicolai puffed up his chest and Viktor flinched.

“You expect a translation of this caliber would be easy! Of course, it’s not easy! It’s going to be exceedingly difficult! All of our resources will have to be considered and in the long run it may be more expensive that you could possibly imagine!”

“Without her you would have nothing. It would be wise to remember that if you want to be involved in this project.” Severus cocked an eyebrow at Nicolai.

“Not be involved?” Nicolai blustered at Severus. Hermione noticed Pieter smiled into the glass of wine he was still holding. “You wouldn’t even know it was a language if not for us!”

“I’m sure we would have figured it out eventually.” Severus gave Nicolai a bored look and went for a tea service in the corner of his father’s study. He poured out a cup for Asta and handed it to her. “Your involvement was merely a shortcut. As you say, it may be a trinket that has no valuable properties whatsoever.”

Nicolai threw a furious look at Nyssa, as if she had prompted Severus to make his statement. She smirked at Nicolai’s expression. Severus continued serving tea to the others.

“Can it be done?” Hermione said as she impatiently took her teacup from Severus rougher than normal and sloshed tea into her saucer. “Or will I go put it in my jewelry box and only take it out when I feel like disco?”

“Disco?” Nicolai looked puzzled.

“Hermione, even if the Brotherhood will not help, I will.” Viktor looked tired as he smiled at Hermione. “This negotiation is tedious, and I have had very little sleep.”

“First children are always a shock.” Pieter nodded at Viktor sympathetically. “You will get used to it.”

“Pieter!” Nicolai barked at his fellow Brother.

“Viktor is right, this is tedious, and we know we will be involved. It is time to stop fighting. For good.” Pieter leveled a hard look at Nyssa. She scowled.

“You are swayed because family is involved.” Nicolai declared.

“And you are swayed because you are a stubborn, boring cleric with nothing better to do with your time than become more unpleasant.” Pieter fired back as he set his wine glass roughly down on the corner of Jacob’s desk.

Viktor snorted the tea he had been drinking through his nose. Asta laughed hysterically.

“You know, some of us have decided women are pleasant and are willing to hold civil conversation with them.” Pieter took a cup of tea from Severus and nodded graciously. Then he pulled a small flask from inside his robed and poured a small dollop of amber liquid into his teacup. “You should spend some more time with my daughters. They are quite charming when not flinging bread across the table.”

“Fine,” Nicolai snapped. “But when these temptresses take off with all of our secrets, you’ll have no one but yourself to blame!”

“Temptresses?” Alexandra looked complimented. Asta looked down at her attire, confused.

Nyssa looked completely shocked before she began blustering.

“Well, I- see here, you- I mean-,” Nyssa took a deep breath. “We’re wasting time! This is ludicrous!”

“Fine,” Nicolai said stiffly. “We want observation time with the relic, access to the prophecy you’ve been concealing, and our whales back.”

“What?” Hermione whispered to Severus.

He shrugged and frowned.

“What do you offer?” Nyssa asked suspiciously.

“The languages of Light and Dark, Fire and Stone.” Nicolai looked as if making the offer pained him.

“Well, we want the stars back.” Nyssa looked annoyed.

“Done.” Pieter clapped his hands together and grabbed Alexandra’s head roughly, planting a sound kiss on her cheek. “Now we celebrate!”

“No singing!” Anna looked horrified as she entered the room. “And I think you have had quite enough excitement for one night!”

“Quite.” Nicolai said brusquely. “I will go report the result of our negotiations so we can begin preparations.”

With a spin of his dark robes and an imperious sniff he apparated with a loud ‘pop.’

“You can apparate to the Brotherhood hideout?” Hermione asked.

“No, but Mageeya Topeek is full of vodka and friendly women this time of night and Nicolai does not get out much. Let him brood with them.” Viktor broke out into a bright smile.

Pieter snorted and wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist. “We do not get out much anymore, either. Let us follow Nicolai and visit Mageeya Topeek for a nightcap.”

Pieter teetered dangerously in Anna’s direction and Alexandra grabbed one of his arms to steady him.

“I have a better idea.” Anna ran a finger along the side of Pieters face seductively, scratching the dark curls she encountered, batting her eyes coquettishly. “Why don’t we stay in? Meet me upstairs, my handsome husband?”

Pieter growled and puffed out his chest. Hermione saw Severus disguise a laugh as a cough. She turned around to refill her teacup and hoped Pieter couldn’t see her shoulders shaking.

“I will be waiting for you, my sweet.” Pieter swayed back in the other direction and Anna steadied him before he fell on top of Alexandra. He growled like a bear.

“Oh, dear God,” Severus chuckled as he ‘helped’ Hermione serve herself another cup of tea.

“Go up and prepare the chambers.” Anna pushed him in the direction of the door, giving him a slap on his behind.

Pieter turned on her suddenly and gave her a sound kiss. “Temptress!”

“I’ll be there in a moment.” Anna gave him a pat on his chest.

“I will be waiting!” Pieter leered at her.

When he finally disappeared, Anna heaved a sigh of relief. “Tea?”

As Hermione handed Anna a cup of tea, she realized Anna had pinched Pieters flask with her final goodbye pat.

“How on earth do you put up with that nonsense?” Alexandra let out a peal of laughter.

“If that is the least trouble he gets into in an evening I am thankful.” Anna splashed some of the contents of Pieters flask into her tea.

“Do they growl often?” Asta’s eyes were wide.

“Not often enough.” Hermione muttered under her breath. Severus let out a low rumble only she could hear. She giggled.

“Only when they are at their most troublesome,” Anna said wisely.

Asta nodded with her eyes wide. Nyssa suppressed a laugh.

“Those were the most trouble-free negotiations I’ve ever heard of.” Alexandra shook her head. “Mother will be amazed.”

“What did you mean, by asking for the stars back?” Hermione asked curiously.

“The Brotherhood was annoyed when they could not find the tower to attack when we were at war.” Nyssa said as she flopped down into a burgundy armchair and accepted a cup of tea from Severus. “So, they enchanted the sky for miles around our approximate area so the stars shift at night.”

“No navigation?” Hermione asked.

“And no astronomy, astrology, divination…” Alexandra took a sip from her cup. “It’s hindered us for eons.”

“And all they wanted were their stupid whales back.” Nyssa chuckled.

“I understand they were most relaxing to watch.” Viktor said as he stared into his teacup. “And quite tasty.”

Hermione made a face.

“I know there was more to it than that,” Viktor admitted. “I have no idea what it was.”

“Well, maybe you’ll find out.” Anna patted Viktor on the head. “Now you should go home and get some rest.”

“There’s no rest for me there.” Viktor groaned. “I’m not sure I remember what sleep was like.”

“They’ll be sleeping through the night soon,” Anna said sympathetically. “Then they will be learning to walk.”

Asta snickered at Viktor’s expression.

“And talk.” Nyssa added.

“And how to create a distraction while the other is doing something naughty.” Hermione giggled, thinking about Fred and George Weasley.

Viktor groaned as he gathered his robes and stood up.

“We’ll see you tomorrow Viktor.” Hermione went to her old friend and gave him a hug. “Give our best to Tristan and the twins.”

“Of course.” Viktor looked at Hermione with a soft look. He kissed her on the forehead. Severus looked annoyed. “Perhaps we will have time to visit before you have to leave.”

“That would be lovely.” Hermione said. “We would love to have you.”

Viktor and the Amazons were walked to the ballroom, despite Asta’s protests, and Severus and Hermione said their goodbyes while Anna slipped upstairs before Pieter began looking for her.

When the green flames died down in the fireplace Severus put an arm around Hermione’s waist.

“I think we made history tonight.” Hermione said softly.

“Hopefully, just a footnote.” Severus said grimly. “No one else needs to know about this.”

“Since the pendant is secret, I’m sure we’ll be kept out of the history books.”

Hermione put a hand on Severus’ shoulder to reassure him. He surprised her by swooping her up in his arms for an impromptu waltz.

He winced as she flattened his toes.

“Didn’t you have to lead a dance once?” Severus chided.

“Four years ago, and I took an agility potion.” Hermione sniffed. “I have more interesting things to do than flit about a dance floor.”

“We’ll see about that,” Severus said, one eyebrow arched at her. “Ball Season is soon, and we’ll be expected to make an appearance.”

“I don’t remember you disappearing during the winter holidays to go dancing before.” Hermione sniffed. “Harry said you always flapped about the halls and caused general discomfort.”

“I wasn’t married before.” Severus looked annoyed himself. “Now I’m expected to unveil you at a social event the size of the Quidditch World Cup like a prize cow.”

“Well, moo to you, too!” Hermione dropped her arms.

“You know what I mean.” Severus said testily. “It’s archaic and a waste of time.”

“You enjoyed them when you were young!” Hermione fired back. She wasn’t sure what they were arguing about at this point.

“Don’t listen to that daft elf! She wallows in nostalgia!”

“Asta showed me and you were charming.” Hermione crossed her arms.

Severus flushed. “Well, she’s daft, too. And nosy.”

“Are we really going to do this?” Hermione asked.

“We have to. My parents are obligated to go because of our introduction into society.”

“I would think your mother would love this sort of thing.” Hermione frowned.

“Not since she’s not the youngest or prettiest anymore.” Severus snorted.

“You haven’t gone since…” Hermione hazarded.

“My fifth year at Hogwarts.”

“Oh my.”

“I would hardly know anyone anymore and there will be hundreds of people.”

“As many as the World Cup.”

“Perhaps that was an exaggeration,” Severus said with a pained look on his face.

Hermione looked at her husband. He was tall and handsome. Well, at least to her he was. He looked so handsome on their wedding day. What did people wear to balls, anyway?

“Do Anna and Pieter go to the balls?”

“I have no idea if they go anymore.” Severus sighed. “But I know they’re going to France for Christmas, so they’ll be missing the Christmas Ball. It’s the main event.”

“I wouldn’t put it past your mother to have something planned.” Hermione smirked.

Severus gathered Hermione in his arms. “But let’s not worry about it for now.”

Hermione pushed herself away from her husband. “I could learn to dance if I wanted to.”

“I have no doubt. You excel at everything you attempt. As long as a broomstick isn’t involved.”

“I’ve heard about your broomstick abilities.” Hermione sniffed imperiously. “And they’re nothing to brag about.”

“I never said they were.” Severus frowned, bewildered.

“I mean I could learn to dance if you wanted me to.”

Severus broke out into one of his rare smiles.

“I am not refusing you a ball if you want, and I am not embarrassed to be seen with a clod footed mess. I’m sure you would be the loveliest, most intelligent woman at the ball, and I am proud to be married to you.”

“Alright then,” Hermione said, making a face at him.

“See.” Severus said as he kissed her forehead. “Lovely.”

Chapter

Hermione and Severus stepped through the fireplace in their chambers at Hogwarts and brushed the soot from their robes. Severus let out an exhausted sound as he dropped onto the couch in front of a stack of scrolls that still needed to be graded.

“I will sincerely be glad when school lets out for the holidays and we won’t have to travel back and forth.” Severus reached for the stack of scrolls.

“I’ll remember that when you’re bickering with your mother.” Hermione smirked.

Severus winced.

“I’m more than capable of grading a stack of First Year scrolls.” Hermione said softly. “Go to bed.”

“You make me feel like an old man, you know.” Severus leaned his head back on the couch and took a deep breath. Hermione noticed the curve of his eyelashes resting on his face as his eyes closed and thought he didn’t look too old to her.

“Well, go to bed, grandpa. You have to get up early tomorrow.”

Severus snorted at her. “Fine. I surrender. Off to bed I go.”

Severus groaned as he forced himself to stand. Hermione gave his bottom a pat as he turned toward his bedroom. “I’ll make you feel like a young man later.”

He turned and smiled at her wearily. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Severus walked into his room and his door quietly closed behind him.

“Emicoatus.” Hermione heard a meow and a thump as Crookshanks jumped off the bed to greet her as she walked into her room. “Hello Crookshanks.”

Hermione reached down to pet the large orange long haired cat as he wound his way around her legs. “I missed you too.”

Crookshanks jumped back onto the large canopied bed and meowed expectantly as Hermione changed into her fuzzy pajamas. He purred deeply and kneaded his paws into her thick blue comforter.

“Not quite, sweetie,” Hermione reached out to scratch behind Crookshanks’ ears. “I have to play student teacher.”

Crookshanks settled his head down and sighed deeply.

Hermione waved her wand and enchanted her robe and slippers with a warming spell before slipping them on and padding back to the sitting room, tying her hair back as she walked.

She had just settled on the couch and was reaching for the first scroll when green flames leapt up in the small fireplace.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you at this late hour.” Dumbledore looked at Hermione’s pajamas.

“Not at all.” Hermione smiled wearily. “Come in.”

Dumbledore climbed through the fireplace and joined Hermione on the couch. “He has you grading papers for him now?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I offered.” Hermione waved her hand at the table. “He looked exhausted.”

“Thank you for taking all of this so well.” Dumbledore looked at Hermione seriously.

“It’s the chance of a lifetime and I’m glad to be able to help.” Hermione said. She pulled her wand out of her robe pocket and waved it at the tea set in the corner. It began steaming momentarily and she served herself and the headmaster tea.

“How did negotiations go?”

“The Brotherhood wants their whales back.” Hermione shrugged. “As well as an information exchange and observation time with the pendant.”

Dumbledore nodded and blew on his tea. “And what did they offer?”

“The languages of Light and Dark, Fire and Stone. And the Amazons stars back.”

“Really?” Dumbledore sounded mildly surprised. “They must really want their hands on that stone.”

Hermione’s hand instinctively went to the leather pouch around her neck. “Why would you say that?”

“They’ve been keeping those languages secret since before wizards had an organized community. Those secrets are older than Hogwarts.”

“The Brotherhood is older than Hogwarts?”

“The Brotherhood has always been.”

Hermione shivered. What was Viktor a part of? “I thought they were a private school. Like a university.”

“Not quite. More like a society for privileged families. You must be born of certain bloodlines to be able to be considered for membership, although there are tests and ordeals one may put oneself through to prove worthiness.”

“What happens if you fail?”

“I would imagine death. No one has ever been seen afterwards if they failed a trial. I suppose they could be simply transformed into something non-human or simply enslaved.”

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face.

The door to Severus room opened and Severus slunk out wearing his fluffy yellow robe. Dumbledore didn’t bat an eye.

“Good evening, Severus. I hope we were not too loud.”

“Not at all, Headmaster.”

“You should go back to bed, Severus. Thank you for the tea and conversation at this late hour,” Dumbledore said apologetically to Hermione. “We really should all be going to bed. Severus, take the day off. Your students will be thrilled.”

Severus gave the headmaster a sour look as the old man retreated into the fireplace.

Hermione giggled. “He’s right, you know.”

“About me needing a day off or my students being thrilled?” Severus drew his arms around her.

“Probably both.” She snuggled into his arms and inhaled deeply.

“So, you had this theory about how to recapture my youth?” Severus dipped his head down and caught her earlobe in his lips.

“I may have a few ideas.” Hermione lightly kissed his shoulder.

He reached down and cupped her buttocks in his hands. Her hands wound their way up his chest, over his shoulders, sliding over his jaw line to finally meet each other, entangled in his hair.

Severus flicked his wrist and his wand snapped into his hand from up his robe sleeve. With a gentle wave he magicked their clothes off.

Hermione burst out laughing.

“Do I please you, wife?”

“Completely.” Hermione sighed and kissed him. She savored the feeling of their lips together.

They heard a sniffle and they both turned sharply to look at Helga’s mirror.

To their horror, Helga was in her mirror and she wasn’t alone. The Fat Lady and Sir Cadogen were with her.

Hermione squeaked in terror and scrambled for her robes, which thankfully, were nearby on the floor.

Helga was wiping a tear from her eye and the Fat Lady had a hand over her heart and was smiling at them. Sir Cadogen was beaming and he winked at Severus lasciviously.

“What on earth are you doing?!” Severus thundered.

“Well, we were going to play cards, but we found ourselves confronted with… quite the display.” Helga tittered.

“Good lord.” Hermione groaned from the floor. She had her robes tucked up under her arms, shielding her from the mirror but giving Severus a clear view of her bottom.

It was quite a charming bottom. He took a moment to admire it.

“Severus!”

“What?” Severus looked at his wife.

“Cover the mirror!”

Severus looked at both his hands cupped over his lap, then back at her. “You have to be joking.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of dear.” The Fat Lady volunteered. “It looks as if you have quite the little friend.”

Sir Cadogen roared. Hermione looked scandalized. Both other ladies laughed, and Severus turned red.

“Come ladies,” Sir Cadogen took both their arms. “I know of a quiet painting in the charms classroom where we can play cards in a field of daises on a bright spring day.”

Both ladies consented and waved at Hermione as they stepped out of view in the mirror.

It didn’t take much convincing to coax Hermione into her room. Severus entered her swiftly and roughly and she cried out, but pushed back against him.

Hermione felt her climax rise quickly, intensified by the feeling of Severus fingers digging into her hips. She screamed his name.

“Again.” Severus started biting her shoulder and grinding into her. “Love me again.”

“Forever, I swear.” Hermione cried out as she climaxed again.

Severus pounded into her for a few moments more before she felt him tense. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered his name as he cried out hers.

He collapsed on her, great breaths heaving in his chest and sweat on his forehead.

She stroked his damp black hair and smiled pleasantly.

His breathing slowed. He nuzzled her neck, kissing her earlobe and settling his head on her shoulder.

She sighed contentedly. She wondered if Severus was half as comfortable as she was.

Then he snored.

Loudly.

With his nose wedged firmly in her ear.

Dear Lord, that answered that question. Hermione struggled to get out from under him.

Severus made a discontent sound and started awake.

“I’m awake!”

“Then that was just an air drill, was it?” Hermione shook her head as she sat up. She put a finger in her ear and wiggled it.

“Could have been. Perhaps you fell asleep and dreamed it.”

“I certainly didn’t dream the ringing in my ears.”

“A physical response to psychological trauma. Not unheard of.”

“Nice try.”

“I really am exhausted. I’m sorry.”

Hermione laughed. “I know. Gods, you’re funny.”

“Are you staying?”

“I think Crookshanks can enjoy spreading out tonight.” Hermione grinned at her husband. “Let me put you to bed.”

“Really? To actually sleep this time?”

Hermione sighed and kissed Severus on the forehead. “To actually sleep this time.”

---

McGonagall looked out over the Great Hall during breakfast, trying not to stare at the empty chairs Hermione and Severus normally occupied. Albus was late as well and that made her nervous.

Hagrid lumbered up to the table and into a seat near McGonagall. She tried not to appear nervous, but he was nearly wringing his hands.

“Anything yet?”

“No.” McGonagall said firmly. “And even if there was, breakfast in the Great Hall is hardly the place to be discussing it.”

“Dinner at Mr. Potter’s tomorrow would be a much better location.” Dumbledore’s voice came from behind them.

McGonagall turned and gave Dumbledore a withering look. “Sleeping in?”

“It was such a beautiful morning I decided to take a walk in the gardens. It gave me a chance to try out a personal warming charm I read about in the Antarctic edition of Rugged Wizard.“

McGonagall looked at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall and saw the blustering snow was still falling at great speed.

“Nice to see you’re still alive.” Hagrid turned his attention back to his breakfast as soon as he realized Dumbledore was at ease and all must have gone well. “I expect it worked well enough.”

“Better after the Gravitational Distortion Charm cancelled out the wind.” Dumbledore smiled as he took his place near McGonagall.

She stared at him, her lips in a tight, straight line. He patted her shoulder reassuringly.

She relaxed. Everything must have gone well.

Or at least well enough that it could wait to discuss later.

Chapter

Hermione watched Dumbledore breathe in the scent of Molly Weasley’s thick, steaming onion soup. He broke into a large golden-brown bread roll and held it over his wooden bowl as a few drops of melted butter fell out.

“Thank you, Molly for another spectacular meal.” Arthur raised his goblet of wine.

“Hear, hear!” Neville said cheerfully as he raised his. If Neville had it his way, Molly would cook at Grimmauld Place every night.

Gregory Goyle nodded, his mouth full of soup soaked bun. Padma and Parvati elbowed him from either side. He put his bun down and raised his goblet, trying to swallow quickly as his psudo-wives looked satisfied. Luna Lovegood looked on, amused.

Severus shuddered. Gregory’s ability to be molded was alarmingly easy. They were lucky Voldemort never showed interest and gave him direction.

Or just gave him a woman to nag him into being competent. Or two. That seemed amazingly effective. If Voldemort had come up with this arranged partnership idea years ago, they might have gotten somewhere.

He imagined an infuriated, captured Hermione being brought to him as his forced bride.

In his fantasy he cackled evilly before he tamed her. The more she climaxed, the angrier she got with him.

She would fight for domination in their bedchamber, the metaphor for good vs. evil being personified in their coupling, each desperately fighting for the upper hand. Their lovemaking would be angry, fierce, and feral.

Severus glanced at his wife eating dinner beside him. He found his eyes were being drawn to his Hermione’s bust. He hoped this meeting was going to be short.

She certainly seemed to be confident enough to try and dominate him in their quarters. He had spied the moving pictures of her rooms and saw the restraints on her bed. Perhaps she wouldn’t be opposed to playing the helpless female victim. He could soundproof the walls and they could really make some noise.

Perhaps - his breath caught in his throat – perhaps she would tie him up first. He could show her there was nothing to be afraid of. To keep her confidence up. Perhaps she would even hurt him.

Severus Snape was sitting at a dinner with the Order of the Phoenix and his cock was so hard it was beginning to hurt.

Under the table, he pretended to adjust the napkin in his lap and ran his hand up his wife’s thigh.

Hermione choked on her soup.

He was brought back to reality as Molly Weasley banged the heavy pot with the remainder of the soup on the table in front of him.

He was sincerely glad Molly Weasley was abhorrently pathetic at Legilimency. If she knew how depraved those last trains of thoughts were she’d Crucio him on the spot.

And he knew he deserved it.

But he’d still find out if Hermione fancied the idea of at least one of them getting tied up. That was the least depraved thought he had.

From the way she was tickling his knee, he knew she was up to physical love later. He looked at her face and she smiled at him.

She really was a very pretty girl. He smirked at her.

She held her cheerful smile as she tickled her way up his leg and firmly gripped his erection.

He gasped, sincerely glad no one was looking at them.

Then just as quickly, she let go of him and raised her goblet to Molly Weasley. She smirked at him.

Mrs. Longbottom, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks, and Remus Lupin stopped bickering about a new security spell published in Progressive Theoretical Magicks long enough to raise their glasses.

Ron and Harry clapped wildly, as if they had been starving for months. From the amount of take out boxes Hermione had helped them clear out before everyone else got there it wasn’t far from the truth.

Fred and George, who had turned into quite competent cooks after leaving their mother’s house, carried heaping bowls of steaming vegetables to the table as Molly opened the oven to reveal several chickens baked to a crisp golden brown.

“Thank you,” Molly said as she examined the chickens. “Now help me get these out.”

Arthur hopped up from his seat and helped Molly as Dumbledore clinked his fork to the side of his goblet to get everyone’s attention.

“As most of you know, there has been quite a stir about a gift Hermione received from the Jotun after the attack on the Ministry. After delicate negotiation with the Amazons and the Brotherhood they have decided to enter into a mutually beneficial project in deciphering the significance of the object and what it means for us.”

“I cannot believe you would just let her traipse about with that around her neck, Severus.” Molly chided him as she set a platter of chicken in front of him and Hermione.

“She didn’t even mention it to me!” Severus exploded, looking annoyed. “Could have gotten herself killed or transformed or worse!”

Hermione gave him a dirty look.

His almost-gone erection sprang back to life.

“We know it’s not harmful now.” Fred said. He smiled and licked his lips as a baked chicken floated to rest between he and his twin.

“We don’t know anything.” Harry said quietly.

Dumbledore looked at Harry, then looked down at his soup and started tearing his bread to bits over it. “Harry has got a very good point.”

Hermione had never noticed Dumbledore seem uneasy about anything Harry said before. She glanced back at Harry.

“All we really know is that it’s indestructible by means known to us.” Harry went on. “It could be a weapon. For all we know, no one’s pulled the trigger on it yet.”

Hermione started. She knew it was Voldemort’s knowledge and it put her on edge. Harry would never have thought that way.

Molly and Arthur looked at each other nervously.

“Well, the Amazons and the Brotherhood thought it was alright to wear?” Arthur ventured.

Hermione reached her hand up to fidget with the amulet hanging under her robes.

“No one mentioned a problem with you wearing it?” Neville asked.

“Never.” Hermione shook her head.

“But it’s attuned to your bloodline, isn’t it?” Harry asked. “Ever put it on anyone else?”

The table fell silent.

“He has a valid point.” Severus said to Hermione.

“I’ve let you handle the amulet.” Hermione protested.

“Handling isn’t the same as putting it on.” Dumbledore said as he scraped the bottom of his bowl and placed it to the side.

“Besides, your bloodlines have been magically bonded, haven’t they?” Ron added. “It’s nearly the same as family—at least magic-wise.”

“Huh.” Hermione said as she pulled the amulet out of her shirt. She pulled the pouch off and held it up where it sparkled between her fingers.

“It’s a living opal.” Mrs. Longbottom said.

Everyone turned to look at her.

“Well, enchanted, of course.” She waved her wand and some of the chicken nearest to her sliced itself and arranged itself on her plate. “Piece of that broken bridge from up north, isn’t it?” Never thought I’d see the like.

“How do you know this?” Dumbledore asked her.

“It was clearly described in the Chronicles of Jared the Wanderer.” She explained. “Neville’s fifteen times over grandfather.”

“And you chose to tell us now because?” George ventured before anyone else said anything rude.

“Because no one showed it to me before.” She sniffed in an imperious way as she peered at the amulet.

“It’s just a trinket?” Severus asked.

“No. It’s a key.”

Severus looked at Hermione, and instantly knew she was going to be buried under Longbottom family archives for the rest of the evening.

He knew he’d made painful sacrifices for the Order. Losing an evening of naked wife was a small sacrifice.

If anyone had asked him in that moment what any of the others had been, he’d have been hard pressed to come up with something.

Chapter

Hermione fastened her dark brown woolen cloak around her shoulders as she stood in front of the fireplace in her apartments at Hogwarts. She frowned in disapproval at her overprotective husband, though she wasn’t facing him.

“You are to exercise extreme caution.” Severus frowned at her back. The daft girl was taking things far too lightly.

“I know, Severus.” She sounded as if they had gone over this a million times before. Perhaps because they had. She understood his unease, but he was starting to sound like a broken record.

“We have no proof of what this is.” he insisted.

“I know, Severus.” She turned and gave him a testy look.

“This is serious, girl!” Severus barked. “The Amazons and the Brotherhood can only be trusted so far.”

“They seem to truly want to help us,” Hermione said exasperatedly, her cloak swirling around her as she sharply turned. “And what do they have to gain?”

“Too easy to convince if you ask me,” Severus grumbled as he fussed over Hermione’s cloak buttons. “And neither has asked for anything. Don’t you find that strange?”

“Some people find knowledge valuable,” Hermione said testily, brushing his hands away. “This is an item from legend. And perhaps many think the bitterness between the Brotherhood and the Amazons has gone on long enough. If they combine their libraries they’ll be one of the most powerful organizations in the world. Ever think of that?”

“Perhaps.” He actually had not thought of that.

“And Pieter is in the Brotherhood. Don’t you even trust your own cousin?” She fiddled with his tarnished silver cloak fastenings.

“Pieter is bound to the Brotherhood by ancient powerful magicks.” Severus frowned. “Those ties run far deeper than any blood relation.”

Hermione looked thoughtful. She stood back and examined Severus. “Why aren’t you in the Brotherhood if Pieter is?”

“I decided to follow the Dark Lord,” Severus said dryly. “Silly me.”

“Oh.” Hermione turned red.

Of course.

“It’s a wonder they’re even letting me participate in any of this,” Severus mused.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hermione snapped. She wrapped a warm beige scarf over her head and pulled on her matching gloves. “They would have been foolish to use anyone else.”

Severus looked amused at his wife’s indignation. “Thank you, wife.”

Hermione sniffed imperiously at him.

Severus tried not to laugh. He was rubbing off on her.

He motioned to the jar of Floo powder near the fireplace. “After you, my dear.”

She threw a handful of powder in the fireplace and green flames roared to life. She arched an eyebrow at him as she stepped into the flames.

He wasn’t ever really sure if she knew why he laughed at her.

---

Hermione was surprised to be walking through an ornate stone fireplace sitting by itself on a floating plate of ice, like the one she had ridden to the Amazonian tower the first time she had visited.

Severus handed Hermione a broom from a black iron rack that was nearby. There seemed to be a glowing ice cube in the distance, and they had to get to it somehow.

“You can fly, can’t you?”

“Of course, I can.” Hermione took the broom from him and glided easily upwards.

“I hear your first experience with a broom was not a pleasant one.” Severus chuckled.

“I was eleven, Severus. I have improved in many things since then.”

“One would hope so,” Severus sniffed.

He really was jumping up and down on her last nerve. What was with him?

As Hermione flew to the meeting place, she noticed small glowing lights under the water. She knew it must be a security measure, but she shuddered to think of what it was.

She and Severus came to a soft landing near an enormous cube of ice with an ornate arched door. Two tall men dressed in black were guarding the opening. They had no markings upon them so Hermione could only guess what faction they represented.

One held out a small water filled tank with a small orange fish inside. It glowed.

“Good Lord.” Severus peered at the tank. “Is that what I think it is?”

The guard smirked, but still didn’t say a word. Severus plunged his hand in the tank and the small fish cuddled up to him. The guard motioned for Severus to walk through the door.

“What is that?” Hermione asked as she stuck her hand in the tank. The small fish cuddled up to her and she gave it a gentle stroke.

“A Pethar. Very rare. Allergic to Polyjuice Potion. So much so that if someone is under the influence they go against their normally gentle and friendly nature and try to get away.” Severus gave the tank a glance again. “I suppose he’s not up for sale after negotiations?”

The guard smiled and shook his head.

“Pity.” Severus walked through the doorway to the meeting place and Hermione followed him.

She gasped as she entered the room.

They were in a room made of frosted ice. It was cool, but not cold. Hermione pulled her scarf off her brown curls, but kept it around her neck. She hazarded a guess that they were floating on a slab of ice somewhere in the vicinity of the Amazonian tower. The lighting was satisfactory but dim.

Guards from both the Ministry and the Brotherhood stood at each of the windows. Hermione was sure from the presence of Alexandra and Nyssa there was at least one platoon from the Amazons present nearby.

The Ministry guards seemed to be made up of a mix of Aurors and people from the Department of Mysteries. They wore light grey robes made of some sort of silky material as uniforms and short circular hats of the same color with no brims. Hermione was surprised to see each of them had two wands on their belts. It made her nervous.

The Brotherhood guards were dressed in deep green velvet robes with black fur trim. Pointed shoulder pads jutted out dramatically and curled up, making the guards look like they had broader shoulders than normal. Gold piping embellished them. They all had shaved heads and wore woven gold and silver circlets with a red stone set into the forehead. Hermione spied black curly-toed boots poking out from under their robes.

A rectangular wooden table with a blank parchment on it lay between two benches. Silver runes etched in shells were inlaid around the edge of the table and each end of the table had two heavy wooden chairs. Red sealing wax slowly bubbled in a small brass cauldron. A silver blade lay nearby.

“Hello, dear,” Nyssa greeted Hermione as she stepped into the room. “The Brotherhood has sent their security forces, but their representatives have yet to arrive.”

A nearby Ministry guard, a short, stout man with wiry red hair that seemed to stick out in all directions, rolled his eyes as if he had heard much about the subject. Hermione tried not to giggle.

“The Amazons probably had scouts in place on our property weeks before you came to work in my laboratory,” Severus sniffed. Nyssa looked embarrassed. “I’m sure the Brotherhood is just as invested in their security measures.”

“Are we the first from England to arrive?” Hermione asked changing the subject. “Besides security, of course.”

“Yes,” Alexandra said before Nyssa started up again. “Your Ministry officials have yet to get here.”

“I believe Dumbledore is also coming,” Snape said as he whisked his cloak off dramatically. He folded it over one arm and approached the table. “Along with Arthur, of course.”

“He is such a pleasant man,” Nyssa said warmly as they walked to the table. “Now each of you sits at opposite ends.”

When they were all seated Nyssa gave Alexandra a startled look as Alexandra flicked a grape out of her sleeve and popped it in her mouth.

“What on earth was that?” Nyssa demanded.

“A preservation bag sewn into the sleeve of my robes.” Alexandra snorted. “I told you they wouldn’t be here on time.”

Hermione let out a laugh and a small bell rung as they saw small green flames leap up in the distance. She turned and watched as Pieter and Nicolai made their way to the tiny island on brooms and were checked through security. They were wearing their normal burgundy robes along with tall black cylindrical hats.

“They’re on time enough,” Hermione said as Pieter and Nicolai took their hats off as they approached the table. “They’re earlier than the Ministry group.”

“Complaining already, temptress?” Nicolai sniffed. He seemed to be in his usual grouchy mood.

Hermione stifled a laugh.

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Nyssa grumbled.

Alexandra rolled her eyes. Although Nicolai had been put in charge of negotiations, it was clear he was never going to approve of the negotiations.

Pieter sat on Hermione’s right, leaving Nicolai near Severus.

“And how are you, dear cousin?” Pieter asked warmly as he pulled a piroshki out of his robes and handed it to Hermione. “Yuri would like to know when you and your barbarian of a husband plan on visiting Mageeya Topeek again.”

“Barbarian?” Severus said surprised. “What’ve I done to you?”

“Yes, barbarian!” Pieter rumbled at Severus. “How can you take a bride and not present her during Ball Season? It is uncivilized!”

Severus looked deeply offended. “I refuse to unveil her like a piece of chattel.”

Pieter waved his hand dismissively. “Ridiculous! She must meet the families we are close to! And it would make Anna happy to have a friend at the next ball.”

“Be that as it may,” Severus harrumphed at Pieter, “Mother is expecting us in France. If you’ll remember, you were invited.”

The bell rang again and momentarily Arthur Weasley and Mrs. Longbottom walked through the door. Mrs. Longbottom was carrying a large ancient looking red leather-bound book with brass fittings binding it together.

“Hello, everyone,” Arthur said cheerfully as he undid a gold silk tie and a deep burgundy curtain fell over the door.

Pieter and Nicolai nodded at Mrs. Longbottom politely. Alexandra and Nyssa stared openmouthed at the stuffed vulture perched on her hat.

Arthur introduced Neville’s grandmother. “This is Augusta Longbottom. She possesses what we believe to be the only written information about the shard from the time period when it was supposedly created. I had her bring this information today.”

Nyssa breathed in. “Incredible. Your records must be kept in impeccable order for you to find information this quickly.”

“Not as much as you would think.” Mrs. Longbottom walked over to the table and dropped the book with a heavy thud onto the parchment. “I enjoyed this volume in our family library when I was much younger and remembered the legend when the girl produced the pendant.”

“Convenient,” Nicolai said flatly. Pieter threw him a look.

Thankfully, Mrs. Longbottom ignored him. “Jared also talked about various sundries made from pieces of the bridge for sentimental reasons.”

She peered at Nicolai and made a face as if a strong, foul odor had passed under her nose. Hermione was just thankful he had not really been slapped. Mrs. Longbottom was not known for her patience.

The bell rang again, and Arthur lifted up the burgundy curtain and peered out into the darkness.

“That should be Dumbledore,” Arthur said, dropping the fabric. “He was afraid he was going to be late. Business at the school.”

“Anything we should be concerned about?” Severus asked.

“Not at all. Something about a niffler loose in the Ravenclaw common room. Unauthorized pet, I’m afraid.”

Hermione chuckled. “At least it wasn’t one of ours.”

Severus wondered if she was talking about Slytherin or Gryffindor.

“I am terribly sorry,” Dumbledore said as he whisked through the door. He took his pointed purple hat off and brushed dust and ash off of it. “It looks like my lateness has been holding things up.”

“Not at all, Professor,” Hermione said.

“Yes, we were just getting started,” Nyssa said warmly as Alexandra got up to give her father a kiss on the cheek.

“I take it you have already read the journals before us,” Nicolai said looking unsettled.

Hermione guessed he was not the type of person that liked surprises.

“Actually, no,” Dumbledore confessed. “I do have a school to run, Nici. Occasionally I don’t have the time to page through the journals of pure-blooded families.”

Hermione looked at Severus. From the glance he gave her, he hadn’t known that Dumbledore knew Nicolai either, let alone well enough to call him Nici.

Nicolai threw Dumbledore a filthy look, but seemed to lose some of his pompousness.

Pieter laughed heartily, but didn’t look surprised at all. He clapped Nicolai on the back, nearly knocking him forward into the table. Nicolai looked distinctly annoyed.

“You have not changed much since Durmstrang, I take it?” Pieter boomed merrily.

“Some of us find genealogical histories interesting.” Nicolai sniffed.

“Exactly!” Mrs. Longbottom broke in as she opened the book. Hermione winced as she heard neglected leather binding crackle. “I spent hours reading these as a girl during my summers home from Hogwarts. This was one of my favorite stories.”

Nicolai looked at her with more respect than he had before.

“A lot of the items would simply sing a family epic. I suppose the magic would have drained from it by now,” Mrs. Longbottom said thoughtfully. “Some held Valkyrie song, but since none of you have gone mad or deaf, I’d suppose that one’s not applicable.”

Severus shifted uneasily in his seat. The Jotun made him nervous. Period. Combine the Death Eaters with Monty Python’s surrealistic sense of humor and you have the nicest of the Jotun. There was no reason they wouldn’t find the torturing of a descendent of a god amusing. They might even find it worthy of a festival day.

“The patterns of flashing lights indicate something is written in the language of Light and Dark,” Mrs. Longbottom explained.

She looked accusingly at Nicolai. He attempted to look innocent. He failed.

“What do you know?” Mrs. Longbottom snapped at him.

“Whatever do you mean?” Nicolai said lightly.

Pieter frowned at him.

“You bring me as a representative, bring my family from two countries into this plan, put my reputation and integrity on the line, and you have withheld information?” Pieter’s voice steadily rose until it was a dull roar.

Hermione suddenly felt sorry for Pieter’s children when they finally pushed their father over the edge. Nicolai flinched.

Everyone at the table stared at Nicolai.

“It’s a key. Not like you wouldn’t have found out eventually anyway.”

“Is that what your big secret is?” Mrs. Longbottom sniffed. “We thought you knew something interesting.”

Nicolai looked outraged. “You knew?“

“Key to what?” Hermione interrupted before war broke out.

“We’ve just gotten a glance at it; we haven’t been able to read the message yet,” Nicolai admitted. “For all we know, the magic has decayed, and the message is incomprehensible. We don’t know the skill of the witch or wizard who made the item. And we didn’t get to test it to prove it’s a piece of the bridge. Everything we had was purely speculation.”

Severus tilted his head at Pieter. “Although it may be considered unscrupulous to withhold information, this was just a theory. A theory that panned out, but just a theory nonetheless.”

Pieter still glared at Nicolai, grumbling under his breath.

“Let us negotiate,” Dumbledore said.

He stood by the table as the others hammered out the details. When everything was finished and etched onto the parchment, each of them pricked themselves with the silver dagger and let three drops of blood flow into the sealing wax.

Nyssa and Nicolai chanted a spell the color of the wax turned grey.

Pieter pulled a wooden box out of his robes. When he opened it, Hermione saw there were four brass seals in it. He handed one to Dumbledore, one to Nyssa, one to Nicolai, and one to Arthur.

Nyssa poured four dollops of wax at the bottom of the page.

Hermione watched as the seals pressed into the wax: Phoenix, crossed arrows, crossed wands, and a book and a sword. They all had the initials ‘EA’ flourished in the center.

“What is ‘EA’ for?” Hermione asked.

" Eastern Alliance,” Pieter said proudly.

“Did you make these?” Severus asked, taking the Phoenix one from Dumbledore.

“Misha did help,” Pieter said, puffing his chest out with pride. “He has been spending a lot of time with my first metalworking kit. It is adorable.”

Nicolai sighed at the mention of Pieter’s children. Hermione speculated he had to hear about them all day.

Nicolai pulled a scroll case out of his robes and pulled out a red lacquered scroll case. When he unrolled the parchment contained in it and laid it on the table, small bolts of lightning ran through it, flashing the colors of the rainbow.

“Lay your hands on it,” Nicolai said.

All who were not from the Brotherhood, including Mrs. Longbottom, reached out and touched the page.

Hermione saw multi-colored stars flash in front of her eyes. When the flashing stopped, she removed her hands from the page.

She felt disoriented, and shook her head.

“That was the language of Light and Dark. The language of Fire and Stone will be more difficult to learn. We will meet next Saturday night. Then there will be a full moon. This time at a place of our choosing.” Nicolai picked the parchment back up after everyone had finished. He rolled it tightly and stuffed it back into its scroll case. Then he tucked it into his robes.

“Here is a copy of the prophecy,” Nyssa said, fishing a blue leather scroll case out from under her robes. “Translated, and a copy of the original that you may check for any mistakes that may have been made.”

“Thank you,” Nicolai said, taking the scroll case gently from her and tucking it under his robes. It was the first civil thing he had said to her.

“After the Saturday exchange we will release the spell keeping the whales away from you,” Nyssa said.

“Good!” Pieter clapped his hands together. “Then may I suggest we have a viewing and observational analysis of the relic on the Tuesday after. Anna can pack us a nice dinner.”

“As if that poor woman doesn’t have enough to do!” Hermione said testily. “What are you thinking?!”

Pieter laughed a big booming laugh. “It is her joy!”

“Anna used to prepare banquets before she got involved with this fool,” Severus explained, throwing a look at his cousin. “When she has the opportunity to ply her craft Pieter takes the children away. Once her spells are going, I hear she finally gets peace and quiet.”

Hermione relaxed.

“I know she would like company…” Pieter hinted at Hermione.

Hermione suddenly got the idea Pieter was trying to get Anna to talk to her about Ball Season.

“I’ll be glad to stop in to see her,” Hermione said, smiling.

Severus looked decidedly grouchy about this.

“Wednesday is better for us,” Alexandra said and she consulted a silver pocket watch she had pulled out of her robes.

“Wednesday, then,” Nicolai said.

“We can meet at the Ministry,” Arthur said. “We have the best place, I think.”

“Perfect,” Nyssa said smiling.

Dumbledore rolled the large parchment outlining the agreement of the new Eastern Alliance up and put it into a long, brown leather scroll case. “Ladies and gentlemen, we may call this a successful evening and declare it time to retire.”

They shook hands all around and flew back to the floating fireplace, taking turns taking the Floo back to their respective homes.

“See you in the morning!” Dumbledore said cheerily to Hermione and Severus as he tossed a handful of powder into the flames and disappeared.

“Wonderful,” Severus grumbled as he reached for a handful of powder. Hermione chuckled.

Even with everything going according to plan, he could find something to complain about.

Chapter

“You do know this could be the start of a lot of trouble, don’t you?” Detective Nigel Warren said to Detective James Thomas.

Thomas was frowning down at the corpse of an elderly man. The man’s face was frozen in a mask of fear, eyes wide open and his mouth was contorted into a silent cry.

“It looks to me like it already has become a lot of trouble,” Detective Thomas remarked as a photographer scuttled around the body snapping pictures. “Did you find anything from last time?”

The photographer stopped snapping and stood up straight, taking note of the amount of film he had left. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

They were standing in a soft pink painted dining room. Decorative plates with flowers on them hung over a dark wooden buffet. An intricately carved dark wooden table stood in the center of the room, cream fabric covered the seats of dining chairs that were pushed in neatly, evenly spaced apart.

A thin layer of dust covered everything, the only exception were three clean streaks on the dining room table where it appeared the man had grasped in a futile effort as he met his demise.

“Are you sure he was killed in here?” Thomas asked, looking around.

“We still don’t know if he was killed at all.” Detective Shelley Morgan said bitterly as she walked into the room. “Could have just kicked it from heart failure. I don’t even know why we’re here, Warren.”

“We were told to, that’s why,” Warren reminded her. “Someone has an interest in these dead men. Find any connection yet?”

“No.” Morgan shook her head at him.

“Well, then we’ll just have to wait for more bodies to turn up,” Thomas said, a strange note in his voice.

---

Ron Weasley stepped through the fireplace into Hermione and Severus’ quarters at Hogwarts. Sunlight came through the arched doorway to Hermione’s room. Neither Hermione nor Severus was anywhere to be seen.

“Hello?” Ron called out loudly. If they were having a private moment it was nothing he ever wanted to see accidentally.

“In here, Ron!” Hermione’s voice sounded muffled, but came from her room.

Ron strode through the archway and into Hermione’s room. The shutters were open and cold grey light filtered into the room. The curtains were pulled shut around Hermione’s bed.

“In here!” Hermione’s voice came from behind the curtains.

Ron pulled back the curtain and saw Ginny sitting cross legged with Hermione on her comforter. Hermione was holding up her pendant and Crookshanks was on his back, batting at it playfully.

“You can read it now?” Ron asked as he climbed onto the bed near his sister and closed the curtain.

“Bits and pieces,” Hermione frowned. “Snippets of words and phrases here and there. I think knowing the language of Fire and Stone will make me understand it completely.”

“What can you understand so far?” Ginny asked.

“Knowledge. Vessels. Life. Danger. Treacherous paths. Happiness. Fruit. Water. Wine.” Hermione said.

“But they said the spell could have degraded somewhat,” Ron said. “You could still have a partial message regardless.”

“It still may be something useful.” Hermione twirled the chain around her finger.

“You know this may be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” Ron said quietly.

“How do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Without the shard none of this would be happening.” Ron said. “The Amazons and the Brotherhood wouldn’t be so keen to sign a treaty. You wouldn’t be doing research at the Ministry.”

“You don’t know that,” Ginny said skeptically. “The Department of Mysteries would be a perfect place for Hermione.”

“But I wasn’t interested in the Department of Mysteries,” Hermione pointed out. “I wanted to work with Muggles.”

“Mum says we end up where we’re supposed to be, whether we like it or not” Ron shrugged.

“Well, this is supposed to be a key to somewhere,” Hermione said, dangling it so the light bounced off the inside of her bed curtains. “We’ll see where it takes us.”

“Just because you have a key to somewhere doesn’t mean you have to go plunging it in a keyhole. For all you know this leads you back to the Jotun and has a list of someone’s shopping.” Ron said, an annoyed tone creeping into his voice.

“He’s right, you know,” Ginny said before Hermione said something.

“I am under the supervision of the Ministry and your dad wouldn’t approve anything insane.” Hermione insisted. “Your mother would kill him.”

Ron relaxed. “I suppose that is a good point.” He shrugged at Ginny.

---

“You’re completely mad, Arthur.” Molly Weasley said flatly.

“I am not mad and if anyone is to do anything, it should be her.” Arthur looked tired. “I wish there could be another way but—”

“'But’ nothing!” Molly looked angry. “She’s barely out of childhood. She’s still a teenager!”

“She was given the artifact because she was part of a bloodline. It’s not like they gave it to us and said: ‘Here. Come to the party.’ They gave it to her because she is who she is. We can’t change that, Molly.”

“Hopefully they won’t have a problem with me escorting her if we travel.” Severus said dully.

“Thank heaven for that, at least.” Molly said bitterly. “You’ll take care of her, won’t you?”

“I always do my very best.” Severus said seriously, and then looked thoughtful. “But that crowd she runs with—”

Molly smacked him again. “Now stop that! Even with all their adventures they acted carefully.”

“Because of her.” Severus snorted.

“And they weren’t all that careful.” Arthur frowned. “She’s lucky the basilisk didn’t kill her.”

“I’d rather not think about that.” Severus shivered.

“We’ll have it translated completely tonight.” Arthur clapped his hands together as if the sound closed the subject. “Then we can think about our options. No sense worrying about it until then.”

---

To Hermione’s surprise, the Brotherhood had decided on Dumbledore’s office as their meeting place. According to Nicolai, it would give them a chance to see a different institution of learning. Pieter smirked and told Hermione that Nicolai just wanted to see Dumbledore’s office and all the items it contained.

Pieter, Nicolai, and Viktor Krum were still representing the Brotherhood and Asta, Nyssa, and Alexandra were still officially representing the Amazons, but the room was quite crowded.

A dozen Amazons, including Sofia waited patiently for their turn to be branded. A small group of members of the Brotherhood watched.

“You’ve got to be joking.” Severus said dryly.

“I assure you, the pain only lasts a moment and the potions we have prepared will heal you within seconds.” Pieter said in a reassuring tone.

“I have never heard of such a thing, Nicolai.” Dumbledore frowned at the red coals smoldering in a small cauldron that hovered a few inches above Dumbledore’s desk. There was a small brand in the shape of intertwined runes heating in the coals.

“There are a few things you do not know, then?” Nicolai sniffed imperiously.

Dumbledore gave him a tired look over the top of his glasses.

“Pieter, how does this work?” Hermione asked her cousin-in-law.

Pieter slipped his robes off his right shoulder. Among the copious amounts of black curly hair, she could see a small brand. “The information is given to you when the heated crystal fuses with your flesh.”

Nicolai had vocally disapproved this idea, saying the younger Brotherhood members had clouded judgment brought on by the idea of the evil seductresses and temptation. No one disagreed with him. Nevertheless talks had continued.

Officially, Dumbledore, Snape, Hermione, and McGonagall were representing the Order and had been named Guardians of the Shard, but there were a few select people from the Ministry waiting to observe and participate in the branding ceremony as well.

“Did you do this Viktor?” Hermione asked. “Does it work?”

“Oh yes,” Viktor said. “It vill allow you to read the story of earth. You vill understand after the ceremony.”

Hermione shrugged and slipped her robes off her shoulder.

“Hermione!” Snape hissed. “This could alter your perceptions of things forever!”

“Viktor seems fine.” Hermione said stubbornly. “This is what I came for. I’m doing it.”

Severus let out a breath and gave her an irritable look.

“You may mark her if you like.” Nicolai said to Viktor. “She is your friend.”

“This vill hurt,” Viktor apologized. “Drink the potion quickly and the pain vill go away.”

“It is easier if you lay down.” Nicolai waved his wand at a table. She climbed onto the it and gave a squeak of surprise as she found her legs and arms firmly bound.

“I am sorry.” Viktor apologized as he picked up the small brand, pushed a hand firmly into her back to stop her wiggling, and pushed the brand firmly into the flesh of her shoulder.

Hermione screamed and struggled as pain shot through her. The smell of burning flesh was sickening. Her eyes flew open and her husband watched her dispassionately.

After seconds that felt like hours, Hermione felt Viktor ease the pressure on her back where he was holding her down and her restraints were gone. She sat up quickly and Viktor pushed a small blue vial to her lips. She gulped the potion down and quickly the intense pain dulled into a dull throb.

“Are you alright?” Viktor asked her, a concerned look on his face.

Hermione scrunched her eyebrows up at him. It was all the warning he got before she punched him in the gut.

“I am not livestock!” Hermione yelled at him. “You need not tie me up to get me to do something I have already agreed to!”

“The binding spell may be overboard.” Nicolai snickered at the doubled-up Viktor.

Viktor gave out a groan and limped back to Pieter, who chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.

Hermione tried to see the brand over her shoulder, but only got a glimpse of scar tissue. Severus came over and ran his finger over the brand. It was still sore, but the potion was working quickly.

Hermione hopped off the piece of silk and breathed in as her feet touched the stone floor.

“What?” Severus asked sharply.

“This stone came from far away. It was carved out of the side of a cliff and transported here on wooden platforms. It was set here by magic and many feet have passed over it.” She seemed to be listening to something. “Someone used to dance here. It misses the feel of dancing feet.”

“The stone misses the feel of people dancing upon it?” Severus’ eyebrows went up in surprise.

“It’s not as clear as that.” Hermione frowned. “It’s more abstract.”

Pieter approached them chuckling. “Severus, it is your turn. I will warn you, I hit back.”

“Anna would murder me.” Severus snorted.

He started taking a shoe off and Pieter laid a hand on his shoulder.

“The mark goes on the shoulder.” Pieter said sternly.

Severus flinched at the word ‘mark.’ Hermione winced.

“Must it?” Severus asked. “It should work anywhere.”

“It is tradition!” Nicolai said sternly.

Hermione chanced a glance at Nyssa. Nyssa was looking at her questioningly. Hermione flicked her eyes down and blushed furiously.

Severus leaned over and whispered something to Pieter that caused the large furry man to throw his head back and howl with laughter.

“Off with it!” Pieter chucked once he had composed himself.

Severus started undoing buttons. He threw an accusing glare at Hermione. She desperately tried not to giggle.

Asta slipped over to Hermione. “What is going on?”

“Sometimes…” Hermione hesitated. “Human mating gets enthusiastic.”

“I have read about that.” Asta said proudly. “Passion grows between a man and woman and—”

Asta’s eyes widened. “Oh my!”

Pieter had yanked Severus’ clothing down from his shoulder and was giving Hermione an approving gaze.

Even from the small bit of skin exposed it was clear he had deep scratches on his shoulder. A bite mark graced it. There were small bruises at the base of his neck.

“It is wonderful being married, is it not, Severus?” Pieter smiled warmly at his cousin before shoving him roughly and making him lay down on the piece of silk.

The Amazons were whispering among themselves and stealing glances at Hermione.

Alexandra was looking at Hermione as if sizing her up.

“This is pleasurable?” Asta asked Hermione excitedly.

“It was at the time.” Hermione whispered back, trying not to die of embarrassment.

Pieter apologized to Severus before pushing the brand against his skin. Hermione watched as the brand pushed in as if there were nothing there. The skin seemed to grow up and around it as he pushed harder, glowing shades of yellow, orange, and red under his skin.

She watched Severus take a deep breath.

“Do you often battle before mating?!” Asta was smiling brightly, her eyes glazed. She was starting to look mad.

“Um… during.” Hermione said slowly.

“During?” Asta echoed weakly. Hermione noticed little shots of lightening going off in her mouth as she spoke.

“Asta? Are you alright?” Hermione asked.

Nyssa’s head turned and she got a panicked look on her face. She hurried over and placed a hand on Asta’s back.

Asta’s head whipped around and she stared at Nyssa. Her eyes, glowing blue. Nyssa jumped.

Hermione heard Severus yelp as the brand was pulled from him, but her eyes didn’t leave Asta.

“How do I find a mate?” Asta’s head snapped around to the somewhat startled group of Brotherhood men.

One of them, a tall man in his mid-twenties with dark wavy hair, straightened his hat and waggled his eyebrows at her. One of his brothers smacked him. Asta started towards him with a look of determination on her face. He didn’t look upset about this at all.

“I didn’t think blood-lust was this literal!” Nyssa was trying to drag Asta back to the Amazons.

“Back to the tower for you!” Alexandra had hurried and was trying to wrestle Asta under control.

“My name is Mikhail!” The hopeful looking Brother waved at her as the other Amazons jumped in to wrestle Asta towards a fireplace where Sophia had thrown a handful of Floo powder. The old woman looked horrified at Asta’s actions.

“Asta!” Asta managed to call out before she was shoved into the leaping green flames that would take her back home.

“I’m terribly sorry!” Sophia rushed over to apologize to Nicolai.

“Do you think they’re all like that?” Mikhail breathed as he continued looking at the fireplace with a goofy grin on his face.

“One can only hope!” A blond wizard standing near him straightened his robes and waved shyly at a short Amazon with brown curly hair. She blushed furiously and turned her back to him.

Hermione noticed the subtle twitch of her hips as she did so.

So did Nicolai.

“This is what I am talking about! Enchantresses! Temptresses! Evil sirens that will ruin us!”

“Have anyone in mind, Nicolai?” Pieter smirked at Nyssa.

“Enchantments and magic! Nothing more!” Nicolai was furiously red in the face. He turned and threw a handful of Floo powder in the fireplace. “The Brotherhood Library Three!”

As he disappeared, the room fell quiet.

“All vight!” Viktor pushed about the small coals with the brand. “Who vill be next?”

Chapter

“That was a fiasco.” Severus groaned as he flopped on the black leather couch in his quarters.

Hermione snickered as she walked in the door behind him. The portrait swung closed behind her with a small click. “That was brilliant.”

“Brilliant.” Severus pinched the bridge of his nose as he repeated her. “Just what was so ‘brilliant’ about that? So inspiring? So extraordinary?”

“Within a minute of a display proving my superior lovemaking skills, Asta hits puberty and Nicolai is ousted as a woman loving traitor.” Hermione strutted by her husband, stopping to place a kiss on his forehead. “Do we have enough time to test out the languages in my bathroom?”

“I wouldn’t suggest it.” Severus said reluctantly. “I know you’re just thinking of your intriguing frog faucet, but there could be a great many things in there and we wouldn’t want to start something we couldn’t finish. It might be wise to have Dumbledore there. Madam Hufflepuff was enough of a surprise. I know you’re just itching to get your hands on ancient enchantments that haven’t been meddled with. Your initial examination and hypothesis can wait for later, my dear. We should even arrange to have a house-elf take notes as we try different things.”

“Suppose you’re right.” Hermione sighed. “It’s just so hard to wait.”

She walked over to the small Wizarding Wireless near her chair by the window and switched it on. Severus tilted his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. A lilting instrumental came through the small box and Hermione picked up a book she had sitting nearby and idly examined the spine.

He was truly glad his parents liked her so much. He sincerely hoped her parents would survive the holiday in France with his family.

The weather had been getting colder. Leaves had already been stripped from the trees and the ground was awash with brown crunchy piles of them. Halloween was just around the corner. Their first Christmas together was quickly approaching. Hopefully the first of many with both their families present, celebrating together in a pleasant location.

Part of Severus groaned over being subjected to his mother, but some part of him hoped it would all go well. At least Hermione’s father couldn’t curse him. Thank the heavens for small favors.

“Why are you staring at me?” Hermione asked without looking at him.

“I was thinking about Christmas.” Severus sighed. “End of term tests.”

“You know, they don’t expect you to take them.” Hermione smirked as she opened the book and skimmed a page.

“Thank heaven for that.” Severus sighed. “I passed my N.E.W.T.'s by the skin of my teeth.”

“Did you really?” She was surprised. “Then why are you so hard on them?”

“Because once you drill it into their heads you can start looking into theory and making real discoveries.” Severus said. “I’d like one of my students to come up with some sort of breakthrough. Higgins at the Salem Institute already has two Potions Masters under his belt, and he’s only been teaching a decade. What do I have? ‘Miracle Breakthrough’ youth serums and enchanting scents.”

“Is that what all this is about?” Hermione laughed at him. She set the book back down and looked at him. “You are completely insane, you know that?”

“What’s wrong with trying to produce a successful student?” He grumbled.

“You’re trying to produce a prodigy, not a successful student. The Salem Institute got lucky, if you’re talking about Masters Young and Chen. They were mentioned briefly in the press by the time they were out of their first year at the Institute. Those kids were gifted; it had nothing to do with their teacher.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Severus sighed.

“I’m going to see Anna. Since the Brotherhood had to get here from so far away they hooked up a Floo from Mageeya Topeek. I can transfer to their house from Yuri’s pub.” Hermione’s voice sounded hopeful as she said Yuri’s name.

“I’d better go with you.” Severus groaned as he sat up. “If you breeze through and I’m not there to see Yuri while you… do whatever it is you women do, I’ll never hear the end of it from my mother.”

“Have a drink while you’re there. You’re too high strung.”

“You would be as well if you thought about what we’re doing.”

“What are we doing?” Hermione asked crossly. “Learning a couple languages magically and solving the secret decoder ring that we were handed? What have we done? The most important thing coming from this is the Amazons and the Brotherhood talking again, and even though we are their excuse we still haven’t done anything.”

“Without you this whole thing would fall apart.” Severus shook his head.

“I doubt it.” Hermione brushed him off. “If it wasn’t this it would be something else. The world is getting smaller and they can’t go on fighting forever.”

“Possibly.” Severus said slowly. “But unlikely to happen so peacefully.”

“Technically, you should thank You-Know-Who for creating such a disturbance the Jotun had to be called in.” Hermione said shrewdly.

“And the Shard?” Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

“It may just be a list of things to do and a key to a celestial pantry.” Hermione said loftily.

Severus shook his head and stood up. He walked across the room took a heavy, black woolen cloak from a hook near the door. “Believe what you wish. I will do the worrying for both of us.”

“You always do.” Hermione smiled at him.

---

“Severus!” Yuri bustled out from behind his bar, much to the annoyance of the customer who was waiting for his drink. “It is good to see you and your beautiful wife this fine night! What brings you to my fine establishment?”

Hermione got the faintest impression that Yuri was magically bound to the pub when she crossed the threshold from the fireplace. She looked down and just saw her normal shoes on a stone floor.

Yuri was wearing a dingy tan shirt and brown trousers. A dark brown cracked leather apron hung around his waist. His hands were wet from dipping mugs and glasses in soapy water to clean them. Brown curls were plastered to his forehead with sweat and steam from the sink.

“Hermione is just passing through on her way to see Anna.” Severus quirked his mouth as he accepted his cousin’s damp embrace.

“It is good to have you here Severus!” Yuri said warmly as he clapped Severus on the shoulder and hugged Hermione. Yuri kissed her on both cheeks and grinned mischievously at Severus. “You can help me tend bar. Ivanna is home with a chill tonight.”

“This is just what you need. Something to keep your hands busy.” Hermione insisted. “I’ll be back. Try not to get too drunk.”

“I will not be getting drunk.” Severus said testily.

“We shall see about that!” Yuri grinned widely and pulled Severus away by the arm as Hermione laughed at them.

She pulled a small bag of Floo Powder out of her robes and threw it into the hearth. She gave the green flames the directions to the Titov house and stepped into the fire.

Hermione was nearly knocked flat by a heavy iron skillet whizzing through the air as she stepped into the kitchen at Pieter and Anna’s house.

Anna gave a surprised exclamation in Russian that Hermione didn’t understand and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her close and out of harm’s way.

Copper pots, heavy iron skillets, shiny silver saucepans, and colorful ceramic bowls, all with magically turning spoons, whisks and spatulas swept through the air. Trays heavily laden with piles of food and silver pitchers filled with different colored liquids circled the kitchen in different patterns as they went from station to station getting garnish, a splash of sauce, a dollop of cream.

“Good Lord.” Hermione breathed from the safety of the eye of the storm in the center of the kitchen.

Hermione felt smidgens of thoughts prodding at the back of her head. Children running through the kitchen. The warmth of a blazing fire. The smell of spices used long ago. Darker things long ago. She looked down to see a thin carpet rolled out over the ceramic tiled floor.

This was going to be quite odd for a while.

“It is some work to get them all started.” Anna said simply. Her dark hair was braided and coiled around her head. The kohl around her eyes was smudged from the heat. She wore a plain purple linen dress with a cream-colored apron over it. “But once they all get going you just have to watch it as it gathers speed. Then it can go on its own.”

“They’re all intertwined?” Hermione asked. “How do you even begin to do something like that?”

“There are some good ideas in Chang’s Examination of Bronze Age Magicks.” Anna said.

“I—don’t believe I’ve heard of that one.” Hermione frowned.

“I believe I have a copy in Mandarin if you’d be interested.” Anna smiled as she pulled her wand out of her pocket and waved it.

Everything in the kitchen froze. Batters and liquids sloshed around in their abruptly halted containers. Spoons and whisks still stirred slowly.

“We can go have some tea while this is going on.” Anna insisted as she led Hermione through the kitchen, winding their way around floating utensils, bowls, pots and pans. “The kitchen will not need me for a while.”

When they stepped through the door leading out of the kitchen, Anna waved her wand and the bustling started up again.

“If I have enough time to do this on a Sunday afternoon, I can prepare food for the whole week. You, of course, have house-elves for that sort of thing at Hogwarts.” Anna walked with Hermione to Pieter’s study. A pot of tea was steaming on a low table near a large black leather couch.

“Pieter told me you were excellent at planning banquets.”

“Oh yes!” Anna sat on the couch and patted the place next to her. “I used to feed most of the Quidditch teams that came through the area. Ministry functions. Private gatherings.”

Hermione sat as Anna poured her a cup of tea. “It must have been interesting to be a part of so many events.”

“Then there was the fateful day I accepted a job from some men that called themselves the Mystic Brotherhood.” Anna sighed as she poured her own cup. “Some ridiculous fellow with a big bushy beard followed me around all night trying to pinch my bottom!”

“He didn’t!” Hermione gaped as she spooned some sugar into her cup.

“He was quite the scamp that evening, I assure you!” Anna shook her head at Hermione. “I cannot believe I managed to get anything done!”

“And you married him anyway?” Hermione giggled as she put a dash of cream in her cup and took a sip.

“The next day he sent me clock and a letter of apology.” Anna smiled as she sipped at her tea. “It was quite sweet.”

“Men are good at doing that,” Hermione remarked.

“Yes, they are, and a good thing for them, too,” Anna said with a sniff.

“How long has it been since you had a job like this?” Hermione asked interestedly.

“Last Christmas I did a meal for the St. Petersburg Potatoes.” Anna shrugged. “I still take a few jobs a year, but for the most part I’m retired.”

“I’d hardly say looking after your family is retired.” Hermione remarked. “Where are the children?”

“I sent them to France early.” Anna smiled. “Their Auntie Stacy is more than happy to have a house full of children.” Anna pulled her wand out and waved it at the table. A tray of warm vanilla cookies appeared. “It will also spare you from her prodding you to produce an heir. She will have had her fill of children before you arrive.”

“I figured that was going to happen soon.” Hermione winced.

“You do not have to worry too much.” Anna said as she nibbled a cookie. “She herself didn’t have Severus until she was much older. She is just anticipating children like children anticipate Christmas.”

Hermione smiled. “I know how she feels.”

---

Hermione walked through the fireplace in Mageeya Topeek to collect Severus and found herself staring in wonderment.

There was quite a crowd and they were being quite boisterous. There was a pretty girl dancing as people sang a folk song. Yuri was busy pouring drinks behind the bar.

As the lyrics in the song broke and an uplifting violin solo slunk out of the shadows of the rest of the musicians Hermione’s eyes fell on her husband.

She didn’t even know he knew how to play.

He was rusty to be sure, and he seemed to be pulling bits of songs together to make his solo instead of coming up with something improvisational and brilliant, but his heart was in it.

It didn’t deter the girl any and she continued dancing around him, and people kept clapping along with the music.

Yuri motioned to Hermione and she pulled her cloak off as she got behind the bar.

“What am I doing?” Yuri hastily shoved a tray full of short glasses filled with vodka into her hands.

“Table three!” Yuri pulled his wand out of a pocket on the front of his leather apron. He waved it and a small fireworks show went off over a table of young men that were clapping along with the music.

Hermione hurried over to the table and smiled as she served the young men. One of them handed her a silver coin that she didn’t recognize. She smiled and nodded politely, not knowing if he knew any English.

She hurried back to the bar and grabbed a second tray from Yuri, following his fireworks to the next table.

“People have been giving me these.” Hermione showed him the smile pile of silver coins she had accumulated after her fourth trip. “Is it payment? Do I owe them change?”

“They are yours for bringing people drinks.” Yuri smiled as he handed her another tray.

The music had stopped, and Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder.

“This is the last one.” Severus said to Yuri over Hermione’s shoulder. “We really have to be going.”

“You should come to see us more, Severus!” Yuri insisted as Hermione bustled to the last table to be served. She smiled and nodded politely as a large, bald man with a ginger bushy mustache gave her a small silver coin and she made her way back to the bar.

“You must come to France and brave one of mother’s gatherings!” Severus said silkily.

Hermione saw the look of horror on Yuri’s face. “And put up with constant badgering about getting married again? I’d rather kiss a goat.”

“You know, the more I hear about this, the more I want to stay away.” Hermione quirked a corner of her mouth at them.

“It’s fine as long as we can keep mother away from the brandy.” Severus shuddered.

“Ha! You tell her this year there will be no eggnog, then!” Yuri barked out a laugh.

“I’m sure we will all survive.” Hermione insisted looking at Yuri pointedly.

“I will consider it.” Yuri said with a measured gaze at Hermione. “Svetlana would like to see her young cousins, I think.”

“It would be nice seeing them all together on Christmas morning.” Hermione smiled silkily.

“I see why your mother likes her so much.” Yuri smirked at Severus.

“Inconvenient at times.” Severus shrugged as he and Yuri sized up Hermione as if she were a prize cow.

Hermione made a face at Severus and Yuri laughed. “I wish Tashi could have met you. I shudder to think of the group of you plotting together.”

Hermione hugged Yuri tightly. He held onto her tightly. “Such lovely women we’re so lucky to find. Do your best to keep yours.”

Hermione kissed him on the cheek.

Severus looked uncomfortable. Hermione watched his expression fade into the stoic look she had known him to always have until they had married.

Yuri turned to give his cousin a firm hug. “You were always her favorite, you know. She never blamed you. Even when she knew they were coming for her. Her mother is a delusional old cow and I tell Svetlana this is her way of grieving. You should come see us more Severus. We miss you.”

“You should come to see us!” Hermione interjected before her husband said something stupid.

“Ha!” Yuri burst out, breaking the tension. Severus raised an eyebrow at his wife as his cousin’s attention was turned to her. “It appears that you have me backed into a corner. Against my better judgment, I will owl Anastasia. I am sure she will be thrilled.”

“See you at Christmas, then!” Hermione artfully pried Yuri from Severus and they backed into the fireplace.

They tumbled through the Floo network and into their quarters at Hogwarts due to Severus trying to hug Hermione in transit and knocking them off balance.

“Masterfully done, my dear.” Severus said, kissing her before he got to his feet.

“I like your family. They all seem so nice. How they managed to make a grouchy old piss like you, I’ll never know.”

Severus laughed heartily. Hermione smiled. He smirked at her and snorted a laugh out occasionally, but he still rarely laughed outright. For Hermione it was a special gift to be savored.

“My mother would probably pay money to know.” Severus chuckled.

“Well, it’s a couple hours until dinner.” Hermione said, glancing at clock above the fireplace. “I’m going to take a bath. So should you.”

“That means it’s almost time to go eat Anna’s wonderful collection of tasty things and go listen to a bunch of blowhards talk about how smart they are.”

“Oh!” Hermione said in mock surprise. “Well, that’s fine. I do that every night eating with you.”

She shrieked in mock fright as Severus chased her around their sitting room.

---

Dinner in Russia had been spectacular with piles of meat pies and pastries, colorful steamed vegetables, fresh bowls of fruit, and breads of varying textures and shapes.

Hermione now sat in Dumbledore’s office enjoying a cup of tea and looking at various types of cookies and sweets.

Pieter had stuffed himself silly and was on his third cup of coffee. They sat near each other in identical burgundy velvet armchairs. He groaned as he reached for another sweet.

“I think it’s time to give up, old man.” The boy named Mikhail laughed at him.

Pieter gave a weak look to Mikhail and took a much smaller cookie than he was reaching for.

Hermione chuckled. “If I have to roll you home, I’m never going to let you forget it.”

“This is further proof women are temptresses.” Pieter said conspiratorially to her. “They make us lazy and soft.”

“Not unless you are a gluttonous pig.” Anna smacked him on the shoulder as she came up behind him and sat on the arm of his chair.

“I’m going to have to agree.” Hermione quirked an eyebrow at Pieter.

“Of course, you do.” The chair creaked as Pieter sat back. “You are in on the plan. Look at my cousin. Living a carefree bachelor life of study and fishing and you come along. Now he’s going to the ballet and smiling like a fool at you whenever your back is turned. Temptresses!”

“Does he really?” Hermione looked at her husband. He was talking to Dumbledore near a wooden pedestal and gesturing to the black velvet bag sitting on it. Sophia had a hand on Dumbledore’s arm. Her lips were pursed, and she was nodding at what Severus was saying.

“It is very sweet.” Anna insisted as she stopped Pieter from reaching for another cookie. She looked at him. “I did keep some for you at home and the children are not around to make them disappear.”

He shrugged and settled down in his chair.

Severus made his way over to them and sat in a black leather chair near Hermione. “We think you should be the first to look at it. It’s gauged to you and we don’t know if one of us touching it will change anything within it.”

“But you’ve touched it before.” Hermione looked quizzically at Severus.

“But the languages we learned changed us. The rules may be different now.” Severus took her hand in his. “Do be careful.”

“I’ll try.” Hermione smiled weakly at him.

She saw Dumbledore motion to her, and she walked to the podium.

He said a few words about international cooperation and past prejudices holding people back before he turned to Hermione. She picked up the pouch and heard whispers of thought at the fringes of her mind.

She swallowed as she opened the pouch and poured the Shard out into her hands.

“Oh my.” Hermione said shakily as the Shard spoke to her.

She saw a door in her mind that she had no doubt she could open. She wanted to reach for it, but she remembered Severus’ warning and held herself back.

What she thought were snippets of some sort of list were actually a description. It was the door to another place. Perhaps somewhere no one had been for thousands of years.

But the amazing thing was the chain. She now knew it wasn’t metal at all.

She saw it: watched as a man with her face sat under a tree in a field so green it hurt her eyes. He plucked long grey strands of hair from his own head and wove them together. A tear in the fabric of reality near him made him look up and smile. Hermione watched as a blonde-haired woman stepped through and approached him. He quickly strung the shard on the thin rope of hair and brought out a long thin piece of metal from the sleeve of his shirt. He tapped the rope and it turned the shimmering silver chain that Hermione had always known it to be. Hermione watched as he looped the chain over the woman’s head and kissed her.

Hermione started out of her reverie as Dumbledore removed the shard from her hands.

The first thing she noticed was that he was wearing dragon hide gloves.

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

“Your eyes looked like the shard.” Pieter looked concerned. “They were crystalline and flashing colors.”

“It was showing me its origins.” Hermione said. “Heimdall made the chain from his own hair and enchanted it into metal for a human woman. I didn’t get any more than that.”

“Fascinating.” Nicolai looked at the Shard in wonderment.

Severus approached the podium and took the Shard from Dumbledore with his bare hands. He held it up and Hermione could finally read the message the Shard signaled.

If you wish to fill the vessel of the mind

Seek out the treacherous path to the Givers of Life.

There you will find truth, treachery, harmony, despair

The best of foods and minds

And the most dangerous of all Gods.

Hermione watched as his eyes sparkled as hers must have. He didn’t seem to spend much time analyzing what he was seeing, though, because he put the Shard down after a moment.

“I saw a door.” Severus said simply. “Nothing more.

“Really?” Hermione said, surprised. “That’s odd.”

“We had a feeling there would be some things only accessible to you,” Nicolai said.

Hermione noticed there were a few members of the Brotherhood pointing various interments at her. Some were small wooden boxes with what looked like screens on them. Some were just holding thin stones. One was holding something that looked like a double pronged wand.

“What’s all that about?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows knitted.

“Possession detectors, chi monitor, curse alarm.” Nicolai said off-handedly as the men put their tools away. “Just a precaution.”

“A wise idea considering the circumstances.” Nyssa nodded as she pocketed a small white feather she had cupped in the palm of her hand. Nicolai raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

“Are you thinking the same thing I am, Nici?” Dumbledore peered at the Shard. “This is no time for games.”

“It leads to the Jotun.” Nicolai said flatly after he read the flashing specks of light.

“And my wife has been wearing it around her neck like an herb pouch. Lovely.” Severus handed the Shard to Dumbledore who had pulled his gloves off.

Nicolai took it from Dumbledore after a moment and Dumbledore looked at Hermione curiously.

“You never had a hint of this before now?” Dumbledore asked carefully.

“Are you kidding?” Hermione heard herself splutter. Severus bit back a laugh at Dumbledore’s startled look. “Do you honestly think I’d be bandying about with it on if I’d known what it was?”

“Of course not!” Pieter said with a laugh. “Although it is traditional to go somewhere exotic during your holiday.”

The Brotherhood members each held the Shard in their hands in turn. Nicolai bowed to Nyssa before handing the Shard over to the Amazons to have their turn examining it.

Hermione walked back to her chair and reached for her cup of tea. She sipped at it and shook her head as Pieter reached for another cookie while Anna was refilling teapots throughout the room.

“That would be an interesting Christmas trip. We should take your mother.” Pieter smiled at Severus. “She would be more than happy to protect us. It would be like the safaris she used to organize when we were small”

“Can we leave here there when we’re done?” Severus asked with mock interest as he sipped from his cup.

Hermione kicked him gently in the shin. “Knock that off. Your mother loves you.”

She looked at Severus curiously. “She used to organize safaris?”

“Oh, yes!” Pieter exclaimed, showering Hermione with cookie crumbs. “Every summer we would go to Africa to look for crumple-horned snorkacks!”

Hermione choked.

Severus groaned.

“There was a myth when we were young- how did it go Severus?” Pieter said with a smile on his face. He was savoring the act of embarrassing his cousin in front of Hermione and everyone else.

“There once was a unicorn that fell in love with a reindeer.” Severus said with a scowl. “They bred a foal that had a twisted volatile horn, a coat of gold, and stardust glitters in its wake. The hair from the tail of the crumple-horned snorkack, when used in wandmaking, will create a wand that can change destinies and shape reality.”

“We went looking for them.” Pieter said, a satisfied look on his face.

“Reindeer in Africa?” Hermione asked skeptically.

“Only my wife, of all the things she’s just been told, decided a reindeer in Africa is the strangest.” Severus shook his head at her.

“Hermione?” Nicolai said.

“Yes?” Hermione hurried over to the cluster of magic users.

“Viktor claims you are Muggle-born, is this right?” Nicolai asked.

“That’s right.” Hermione said.

“Not a magical grandparent or great-grandparent? Sometimes they told their children they were faith healers or touched by God.” Nicolai said anxiously.

“No old family stories like that that I know of.” Hermione frowned. “I’ll ask my parents at Christmas, but I would think if they knew anything, they’d have put it together by now and said something.”

“Perhaps.” Nyssa said, her lips pursed as she examined Hermione, as if by looking at her Nyssa could divine Hermione’s genetic code.

“It would be interesting to test the bloodlines of your parents.” Nicolai mused.

“It would not.” Pieter snapped. “It would be archaic and insulting.”

“I’m not sure my parents would mind.” Hermione admitted, putting a hand on Pieter’s arm. “Genetic testing is being looked at seriously in the Muggle world. Crossing magic and medicine may just be a few years off.”

“Have you even told them about this?” Pieter asked under his breath.

Hermione’s reddening cheeks answered his question.

“Well, you might want to ask them if they would consider it.” Nyssa said. “Just as a curiosity. It would be interesting to see if your Muggle parents could use a magical device attuned to their bloodline. It could lead to a breakthrough of magical objects that can be used by Muggles.”

“Are you planning on breaking the Secrecy Vows?” Nicolai raised an eyebrow at her.

Pieter had told Hermione the Brotherhood was against the Secrecy Laws from their first conception. They would like nothing better than for the world to know what a wonderful library they had. Historically, the Amazons said it was just because the Brotherhood liked to show off far too much.

Pieter didn’t disagree, but he pointed out the Amazon attack that created Siberia was hardly subtle.

“Not at all, but we have never limited the transference of knowledge to Muggle families of magic users. They know about us. Why not be able to give your mother a blanket she was able to change the color and temperature of? I’m not suggesting we make Muggle-ready wands that hold magic, but household items are harmless enough.”

“Muggle-ready wands?” Nicolai mused. “I think asking the Jotun to stay above ground permanently would be less destructive.”

“I’ll speak to my parents over the holiday.” Hermione said quickly. “We’ll let you know after the beginning of the year.”

“Hermione’s bloodline appears to be anything but normal.” Severus remarked. “If we test one parent, we should test both so we know where her celestial origins come from and see how a control subject reacts.”

Pieter turned to glare at Severus. “I cannot believe you think this is a good idea.”

“We’re not forcing them.” Severus said coldly. “It’s a curiosity. If they show no interest that will be the end of that. Hermione can’t be the only one that this thing will talk to. 1500 years of people on an island making future generations. I’m sure there are more families that will get the same reaction. She was just lucky.”

“People did have boats, Severus.” Pieter said. “And Britain was a popular place. Plenty of people came and went. You may have to search the world before you find this set of circumstances.”

“More the reason to test them.” Nyssa said.

“Testing bloodlines is always a bad idea.” Pieter shook his head. “It excuses all sorts of unethical behaviors.” He glared at Severus. “If they consider this, we would have to be very careful about it.”

“There’s no reason not to get the governments involved.” Hermione said quickly. “And Arthur Weasley is an expert in Muggle-Wizarding hybrid objects. He’s waiting for a report on our findings tonight anyway.”

“Could we squeeze in a meeting with your parents before they make a decision?” Nyssa asked. “Just to show them some of our theories and to show them exactly what we would be doing?”

“Thank you.” Nicolai said with a courteous bow.

---

“Wasn’t it wonderful?” Asta asked Nyssa as the older woman rose to the library on the floating platform that helped people travel from one level to the next in the Bibliothecha oo Amazon. “Was the reading exciting?”

“It was quite exceptional.” Nyssa assured her assistant. “I’m sure Hermione will allow you a private viewing and Brother Pieter is making arrangements for you to receive your brand so that you may examine the shard properly. If you’d behaved yourself at the language exchange you’d have been there as well.”

“I should write them a letter with an apology.” Asta said thoughtfully.

“That would be acceptable.” Nyssa said.

“Did we learn anything new?” Asta asked. “Was there a message hidden within the Shard?”

“Yes.” Nyssa said hesitantly. “There was. And a vision to go with it.”

“Really?” Asta’s eyes widened. “Is it as important as we thought it would be?”

“Even more so.” Nyssa said, clearing her voice. “It seems the Shard is meant to be used for transportation.”

“Transportation?” Asta tried to wrinkle her nose, but while skin around it seemed to wrinkle, her nose stayed stationary. “Like a portkey?”

“I think it will be more like a portable dimensional portal.” Nyssa said, gauging Asta’s reaction. “Back to the realm of gods and monsters.”

Asta looked thoughtful before her face froze and her eyes rose to meet Nyssa’s.

“I can go back home?”

Chapter

Asta had plain quarters in the Amazonian tower.

The floor was white marble, the walls white and free of pictures or decorations. One wall had a door; across from it the opposing wall had a small window to let light in.

A short bookcase was tucked away under the window and an old rocking chair sat nearby. A small purple fire burned in a white stone box mounted on the wall. It was opposite a small bed that sported a jolly yellow blanket.

Asta was sitting in her chair reading a historical text about the war with the Brotherhood; trying desperately not to think about the Shard and its hidden portal when there was a light knock at her door.

She rose from the ancient chair and it creaked noisily. She shot it a wary look, as if it would collapse in a heap before her eyes. It didn’t. Good, the enchantment was holding nicely. It was one of the first personal items she had been given when she was placed in the Amazons’ care.

Asta knew very well that chairs weren’t supposed to last hundreds of years, but this was her favorite chair and she hated to see it go.

She dropped her book on her bed as she passed it and opened her door.

“Well, this is a surprise!” Asta’s eyebrows went up when she saw who was. “Is there more news about the Shard?”

Sophia and Nyssa were standing in her doorway. Nyssa looked furious and Sophia looked highly amused.

“Is there something wrong?” Asta’s eyes widened.

Nyssa opened her mouth, but Sophia laid a hand on the younger woman’s plump arm and her mouth snapped shut.

“No, dear,” Sophia said quickly. “But something has arrived for you.”

“Arrived for me?” Asta looked confused. “From whom? I don’t know anyone. Why would anyone send me something?”

“I have my suspicions,” Sophia said with a twinkle in her eye.

Asta followed the women down through the tower. The living quarters were near the top of the tower, under the astronomy laboratory and observation deck. Past that there were personal offices and teaching areas. The library and communications sections were below that before they reached the common area on the ground floor.

Asta followed the women: Sophia hobbling along, Nyssa stalking through the tower, towards the big doors that opened to the drawbridge. Small huddles of Amazonian women and girls seemed to be giggling and whispering to each other.

Alexandra gave Asta a wink as she passed by. Asta frowned in confusion.

She felt profoundly uncomfortable. She had never quite fit in as well as she would have liked, and the other Amazons made her nervous sometimes. It was why she spent a lot of time in her room.

Was this some sort of a joke? She had never fully understood human humor.

Sophia waved her wand and the heavy door leading outside slowly began to slide open. Nyssa tapped her foot impatiently and gave Sophia a look that told Asta that whatever they were doing, she thought it a waste of time. Sophia beckoned to Asta and the younger woman followed. The three women stepped out into the light of the afternoon and Asta blinked at what stood before her.

There was a silver dragon the size of a small dog staring at her. It wore a small blue tag bearing Asta’s name in a swirly green hand. She looked at Sophia and then back to the dragon.

A clockwork key on the top of its head started turning and a sweet, lilting tune came from the dragon.

There was a soft sigh behind her. Asta turned to see a dozen Amazonian heads poking out of the tower, watching the little dragon.

Nyssa started grumbling.

The dragon did a small pirouette and small hinges creaked as its chest opened. A single rose carved from dark wood inched towards her on the end of an accordion hinged extender.

“Absolutely not!” Nyssa thundered. “She’s far too young!”

“It looks as if your young man is a historian.” Sophia said with a small chuckle and not pride in her voice. “A fine choice.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Asta said tentatively.

“You see!” Nyssa clapped her hands together. “That settles it! She has no idea what she’s getting into! The whole thing is preposterous to begin with! I will write to that Nicolai at once to have him reign in his little heathens!”

“Oh, hush.” Sophia said making a sour face. “The acceptance of the rose signifies a courtship, not a wedding.”

“He probably does not even know what his boys are up to!” Nyssa continued as if Sophia hadn’t spoken.

“We can go talk to the Priestess if there’s any doubt to his intentions,” Sophia reasoned. “She will talk to their Priest. It is the way of things and it is not ours to change.”

Nyssa was still huffing. Small black tendrils of hair had snaked loose of the carefully arranged piles of hair on her head, making her look like she had been struck by lightning.

“Mikhail wants to court me?” The tips of Asta’s hair glowed blue.

“You see, Nyssa.” Sophia tried to calm down Nyssa with a reassuring tone to her voice. “She knows who it has come from.”

“But we don’t know what desire means to her,” Nyssa insisted. “Was she drawn to sex? To the scent of blood? The combination of the two? Say she lets this boy court her and she kills him accidentally? Where will our negotiations be then? I say ‘NO’ Sophia. It is just too dangerous!”

“We will let the Priestess decide.” Sophia said firmly. “And there will be no more discussion on the matter until then.”

Nyssa scowled but was silent.

“He likes me.” Asta said. “That’s why I chose him at the ceremony.”

“What, dear?” Sophia asked softly.

“He smelled different from the others and he kept watching me.” Asta said as she looked at the small dragon. “Like when Severus looks at Hermione.”

“Pheromones.” Nyssa groaned.

“If her response was triggered from pheromones then she’s of age to mate,” Sophia pointed out.

“I’m over a thousand years old.” Asta said without taking her eyes off the little silver dragon. “It is probably time for me to become a woman.”

Nyssa and Asta looked at each other with worry.

---

Hermione and Severus held hands on their couch, their opposite hands resting on the Shard. Their eyes took on the same crystalline look of it.

As they took their hands off, Severus took a deep breath. “Well, that was most informative.”

“You saw the vision?” Hermione asked excitedly.

“I think you should share this with Dumbledore.” Severus said slowly.

“Yes, of course.” Hermione hurriedly tucked it away in the tan leather pouch she concealed it in and placed it back around her neck.

Severus examined his wife’s face. “You know, most people just dream of marrying a woman with a face like a goddess.”

Hermione made a rude face at him.

“Whoever would have thought I would get Medusa?” Severus reached out and tweaked one of Hermione’s curls.

“How very Slytherin of you,” Hermione said with a grin.

“Touché.” Severus leaned over and kissed her cheek.

---

Hermione tentatively knocked on the Headmaster’s office door. She hastily wondered if she should have made an appointment with him.

“Come in.”

Dumbledore sat behind his heavy desk looking over scrolls.

“Madam Snape, what a pleasant surprise.” He smiled and folded his hands over his paperwork.”

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you—” Hermione started, but Dumbledore just waved her worries away with a flip of his hand.

“Not at all. I was just going over some reports the Governors sent for me to look at. You’d think they didn’t understand it takes money to run a school.”

Hermione chuckled. At least it was nice to know part of the world was back to normal.

“Severus thought you should see this, Professor.” Hermione said as she took the shard from around her neck. “It shows its history, but we should be sitting down before activating it.”

“Well, I am grateful for the distraction.” Dumbledore rose to his feet and gestured for Hermione to sit on an overstuffed burgundy loveseat.

She sank into the soft curves of the seat and waited for Dumbledore to settle in next to her. He smiled at her expectantly and waited for her to present the Shard.

“We do have to join hands.” Hermione explained as she held out her hand. The Shard sitting was sitting in her palm. Dumbledore covered the Shard with his hand and closed it gently over hers.

Hermione stood near Dumbledore as he watched the memory trapped within the Shard play out.

When it was done Dumbledore tipped it into her hand and he looked weary as he took his gold wire rimmed spectacles off and polished them on the sleeve of his robes.

“You do know what a gift that is, Hermione?” Dumbledore asked as he set them back upon his nose.

“Nope.” Hermione brushed him off with a wave of her hand. “Gaudy thing. I was thinking about tossing it up at the next Hogsmede swap meet.”

The silver chain glinted in the candlelight as Hermione gestured with the Shard in her hand.

“Your husbands’ bad habits are beginning to rub off on you, Madam Snape.” Dumbledore looked as if he were fiercely trying not to smile.

Hermione snorted and Dumbledore allowed himself a quirk of his lips.

“I assure you I guard the Shard at all times.” Hermione hastily told Dumbledore. “I never take it off unless we’re examining it.”

“I know that.” Dumbledore said patiently. “That is what I am alluding to.”

“You think it may not be good for me even though our tests found nothing.” Hermione sighed.

“I think any tests done on advanced magical technology are inconclusive until proven otherwise.” Dumbledore looked at her over the tops of his glasses. “Before we could identify genes, they were still there. Before we could prove the world was round it still was.”

“Good point.” Hermione relented. She looked at Dumbledore sadly. “This is where you tell me you’re going to make sure it’s in a safe location, right?”

“No.” Dumbledore assured Hermione. “This is where I tell you to make sure it’s in a safe location. I would suggest you get a vault at Gringotts. The goblins are more than adequate for guarding such a thing, but if you let them know what they were guarding it would do much for wizard – goblin relations.”

Hermione pursed her lips.

“Well, you should think about it.” Dumbledore patted her on the knee, and she knew she was being dismissed.

“I will.” Hermione put the Shard back around her neck. “But I think that’s probably a very good idea.”

Hermione saw herself out of Dumbledore’s office and started the walk back to the quarters she shared with Severus.

She heard the familiar sound of a wet brush on stone and wasn’t surprised to see Mr. Filch scrubbing away at a wall when she turned a corner.

Hermione stopped to read what had been scrawled on the stone wall: Who are you when no one is watching?

For some reason Hermione felt a chill go up her spine.

“Has there been much graffiti lately, Mr. Filch?” Hermione asked politely.

“More writing on walls, that’s for sure.” Filch growled as he dipped his brush with long. Stiff brown bristles into the bucket of soapy water near him.

“The next time it happens, please notify me.” Hermione said brusquely as she waved her wand and the words disappeared under the power of her Cleaning Charm.

“Yes, Madam Snape.” Filch allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch at the wall cleaning. “As soon as I find them.”

“Thank you.”

Hermione felt uneasy about cryptic graffiti on the walls of the school. If anything, he’d at least seek her out next time in the hopes she’d clean the wall for him.

Filch gathered up his cleaning supplies and hobbled down the corridor in the direction that Hermione had come from.

Hermione hurried back to her quarters. For some reason she didn’t feel quite as safe anymore.

Chapter

Ginny Weasley grumbled in her sleep and unsuccessfully tried to ignore a red light that was growing brighter with each passing moment. She finally gave in and blinked her eyes sleepily at the crystal flower Harry had given her.

The petals were open, and Harry’s small face, with its slit pupils and large scar, were peering at her and she felt thankful that her thick bed curtains held the light back from the rest of the room.

“Hello, Harry,” Ginny whispered to the image of his face.

Harry’s face smiled and winked at her.

“Tonight?” She asked.

Harry nodded and seemed to sigh. She smiled lazily up at the flower as the petals slowly closed and the light went out.

Ginny pulled back her bed curtain and swung her feet out of bed. She winced as they hit the cold stone floor and she scurried to complete her task. She quickly pulled a bag out from under her bed before climbing back onto it and pulling the curtains shut.

She whispered an incantation and her enclosed area was magically soundproofed and with a flick of her wand she had light. She quickly dressed in a Muggle sweater and jeans before pulling Harry’s invisibility cloak and the Marauder’s Map out of the bag. She was hoping she wouldn’t have to use them, but best to take them, just in case.

Harry had insisted she keep them with her at Hogwarts because she’d find more uses for them than he would. Tonight, she was thankful for it.

She extinguished the light from her wand and pocketed it before slipping out of her bed and into her shoes. She closed her bed curtains and crept over to the small iron stove in the center of the room and gently opened the door in the side. She scowled and gingerly placed a piece of wood she found in a basket nearby onto the embers and poked it with her wand. If it burned out someone might get up to restart it and notice her absence.

She pulled the invisibility cloak around her shoulders before slipping the cowl over her head.

Ginny froze as she heard one of the other girls turn over in her sleep, but the sound stopped, and Ginny let out the breath she had been holding.

She tiptoed out of the room and down to the common room. She stood in front of the embers smoldering in the grand fireplace and prayed this would work. If it didn’t, she’d have a long trek through the castle to look forward to. She pulled a small brown pouch from her pocket and threw its contents into the fire. When the green flames leapt up, she grinned.

Sirius had been able to talk to Harry in the Gryffindor fireplace her third year because Sirius had connected it to his parent’s house on a two way link when he was at Hogwarts, undetectable by the Ministry because it wasn’t linked up to the Floo network at all.

When Umbridge came to power, she didn’t have each fireplace disconnected, she just blocked Transportation Charms from the whole of Hogwarts, with the only exception being the Headmaster’s Office.

McGonagall had recently lifted the spell blocking magical transportation from the castle and had, as Harry as suspected, it had made the link from the Gryffindor common room to Grimmauld place functional again.

She was grateful she didn’t have to sneak around the castle, but she snorted at all the precautions she had taken. She could have just walked down in her pajamas and said she was going to the small, hidden bathroom off the common room.

She stepped into the green flames and said: “Twelve Grimmauld Place!”

She felt the flames tickle her as she was whisked away from the common room and into the room Harry now used as his office.

She felt strong hands grab her and she was pulled into the room roughly. Lips pressed against hers and she giggled in surprise.

“It’s a torture waiting for you,” Harry murmured at her as he slid an arm around her.

“If the Floo hadn’t worked you’d still be waiting!” Ginny laughed as he ran his hand down her sweater to and slide it under the hem, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin under his hands.

“Hey!” Ginny said, pushing him away gently. “What are you being so fast about?”

She thought she saw a flash of anger cross his features, but he took a deep breath and smiled at her.

“Just- glad to see you, that’s all.” Harry said as he looked into her eyes.

Ginny gazed up and willed herself not to flinch. She had stared into Tom’s eyes before. She had stared into Voldemort’s eyes before. Now she had to see them in Harry’s face, and it pained her. She should have been able to protect him better. “Have you been having a bad day?”

He gazed at her before pulling her close to him and inhaling deeply.

“It’s only one more year,” Ginny said softly.

“You’re going to make me wait a whole year?” Harry’s touch was tender, but there was an edge to his voice.

Ginny looked up at him sternly. “If I feel like it.”

Harry opened his mouth, but closed it quickly and took a deep breath. “Of course.”

“Or sooner if I feel like it,” Ginny said with a mischievous smile. “You have had a rough day, haven’t you?”

“Sorry,” Harry said. His face scrunched up and his scar wriggled on his face. “Things have been … intense lately.”

“Those letters getting to you?” Ginny asked as she looked over his shoulder at the mailbags and piles of various letters and scrolls.

“It wasn’t so bad getting the crazy letters at school.” Harry shook his head. “There was always stuff to distract me and it was just… different.”

“It must be rough here with just Ron and Neville,” Ginny said sympathetically.

“Well, I did hire a couple more house-elves,” Harry grinned as Ginny’s hands slid their way down his back and cupped his arse. “After things settled down, quite a few families had their estates seized and their elves freed.”

“Oh, Gods!” Ginny snickered as she buried her head against his shoulder. “That must’ve created an uproar.”

“Yea, well at least we managed to claim a couple for our household and one for the Burrow,” Harry shrugged. “They were happy to be assigned to pure-blood homes.”

“It’s going to take a while for them to get used to all the changes.” Ginny sighed as she rested her head against Harry. She inhaled deeply and took in the scent of him.

“No doubt.” Harry said as he guided her over to an overstuffed couch. He waved his wand and flames roared in the fireplace as the lights dimmed.

“You know I love coming to see you, Harry,” Ginny said as they sat down. “But I do have classes in the morning. I’d rather you summon me on Friday or Saturday nights so I can sleep in.”

“I know,” Harry said apologetically. “But I found another one and—”

“Another of the boys that bullied Tom in the orphanage?” Ginny interrupted, her eyes growing wide. “I can’t believe you’re managing to find them all, Harry.”

Her eyes searched his face. It was hard for her to read him these days. She was used to the face he was born with, not this twisted manifestation of what had nearly destroyed him.

“What are you going to do?” Ginny asked quietly as she covered his hand with hers. “It’s not like they can be charged anymore. They must all be very old.”

“Of course, they are.” Harry said chortling. “But it makes you wonder how many others they made life hell for. I’ll make sure some sort of justice is served. Don’t you worry.”

Despite his words, Ginny looked at Harry with concern.

---

“It’s a pleasure to gain your family’s custom.”

Hermione was walking down a narrow passageway deep underground, her legs still shaky from the harrowing trip through the bowels of Gringotts Wizarding Bank in a small enchanted cart. “Thank you, Griphook. Professor Dumbledore assured me that Gringotts is the best there is.”

“He is right.” Griphook agreed. “We have security measures like no other.”

Hermione nearly rammed into the back of him as he suddenly stopped in front of a small metal door. She took a step back as he unlocked it.

The door swung open and a thin white mist rolled out of it.

“Your vault, madam.” Griphook bowed and stepped aside so Hermione could enter the small room.

She felt silly placing the small bag in the center of the room without so much as a table to go under it, but the room was for protection, not display. She set it on the floor and walked out.

Griphook relocked the room and they clamored back into the tiny cart they had arrived in. Hermione held onto the edge with white knuckles as it whizzed over narrow tracks that didn’t seem stable enough to support it as they made their way back to the main floor of the bank.

When they finally arrived at the main floor, Severus was waiting for them, a smirk plastered across his face.

“Enjoy the ride?”

“Bugger off,” Hermione grumbled as she walked towards him shakily.

Severus shook his head as he held up a cloak for her to shrug into. “You’ll feel better after lunch.”

“I doubt it.” Hermione said grumpily. “But at least the Shard is safe.”

“Next time I’ll bring a potion for motion sickness,” Severus reassured her. “But I’m sure Tom has something.”

Hermione nodded her head gratefully. She wasn’t sure whether she was more reassured that she would soon feel better or that the Shard was now under better care than she could give it.

“Here is a brochure for Madam.” Griphook handed Hermione a glossy folded parchment. “About transferring your Muggle accounts to Gringotts. It’s a much more secure system and when you put your money in you get your money out! No more worrying about who’s been touching it or where it’s been.”

Hermione thanked him and as she and Severus left the bank she began giggling. “Do you ever worry about who’s been touching your money?”

“Only when Mundungus Fletcher is in the vicinity,” Severus said with a snort.

They made their way through Diagon Alley, past the small shops with their window displays promoting wizarding wares. Hermione glanced in Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions and paused a moment to look at a Hogwarts scarf that had a hood attached to it.

“I should get one for myself,” Hermione teased him. “For the next Quidditch match.

He snorted. “Not if you’re going to sit near me.”

“You would banish me from your side for cheering for my own House?” Hermione laughed as they passed a group of teenagers that shrank back at the sight of Severus. “Maybe I should do it, then. Show them how it’s done.”

Severus groaned at her mischievous expression. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“With unrestrained glee,” Hermione sighed as she smiled at him.

He snorted at her and pretended to study a poster that had been tacked onto the wall. He frowned.

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“Dark Magic Repelling Cream,” Severus read aloud. “What is this nonsense?”

“People taking advantage of a situation.” Hermione said bitterly.

Severus nodded and scowled at the poster. “This looks like something Fletcher dreamed up.”

“Probably,” Hermione giggled. Severus looked at her sharply. “Well, let’s face it. He might as well have a sign around his neck saying ‘con man.'”

“True.” Severus sighed as he turned away from the poster. “If he’s gotten this cocky, he’ll be caught soon enough.”

“Too bad the people that are swindled don’t get their money back.” Hermione said as her eyes lit up at a shop window full of tiny glass figurines. Every few minutes they leapt up and moved around. Ballerinas danced; kittens played with glass balls of yarn; crystal dogs wagged their tails and silently barked.

“They do,” Severus said, surprised. “The Ministry seizes everything he’s got if the money’s gone, then he has to work off the rest until everyone is paid back.”

“Then why be a thief at all?” Hermione shook her head. “I’ll never understand.”

“Ah, but you see, there’s the problem.” Severus leaned forward to have a closer look at a glass eagle that was stretching its wings. “One mistake and you’re stuck.”

“What do you mean?”

“Imagine a person. They do one stupid thing in their youth and think they get away with it. They spend the money on disposable things. Food, drink, entertainment. Then when they are caught, they have to pay it back, but it’s all gone. Everything you make is seized from the Ministry to pay back your debts and you don’t have anything left to live on.”

“Oh!” Hermione said. “Then you’d be forced to commit more crimes to live. Well, that’s a flawed law.”

“Arthur’s been working against it for years. Maybe he can finally push it through.” Severus remarked as the figures froze again.

They made their way to the Leaky Cauldron where they were warmly greeted by Tom, the owner. After telling him what they wanted he waved them off and told them to get a table. They chose a small booth in the corner with worn leather seats and a polished wooden table.

When their food and drinks were brought over to them Severus cast a secrecy charm around the booth. “I feel much better with that thing locked up.”

“I’d kind of rather have it with me,” Hermione admitted sheepishly as she contemplated her dinner plate. “It’s like I’m missing it.”

“No doubt,” Severus said dryly. “If you are one of the descendants of Heimdall it’s pull to you would grow stronger the more you wear it.”

“Why is that?” Hermione asked as she took a bite of potato.

“If it’s lost, you’ll be able to track it. Of course, if another descendent found it, it would begin to adapt to the other person and your bond to it would start to disintegrate.”

“A lot of time has passed since Heimdall was spreading his offspring around,” Hermione admitted. “There could be thousands of people that could use it.”

“Including Muggles and Squibs,” Severus pointed out.

Hermione’s eyes went wide as comprehension dawned on her. “Do you mean to say a Muggle could use the Shard to open the door to the Joutun?”

“It’s possible.” Severus speared a wilted carrot with his fork. “I’m not young enough to be that curious anymore.”

“You know what? Neither am I.” Hermione squeezed his knee under the table and he quirked a corner of his mouth at her.

---

Detective Nigel Warren sat at his desk at the police station, a tower of papers on his desk and a large cup of coffee steaming nearby. “You sure you don’t want to share a cab?”

“I’m just going to stay at my sisters flat tonight.” Thomas waved off his partner. “She’s just around the corner. I’d just bother the wife if I went home when I feel so close to a breakthrough.”

“The only thing you’re close to is an aneurysm.” Warren snorted as he picked up the newspaper on the corner of his desk. “Don’t stay too late. The cleaning ladies don’t like it when they have to scrape drool off the desks.”

Thomas waved off the man and went back to his stack of papers. Once Warren was gone, Thomas dove into the stack with gusto. He pulled his briefcase out from under the desk and opened it quickly, snatching his wand out of it and pointing it at the pile.

He muttered a few words and did some complicated gestures, and the papers rose up in the air and began shuffling themselves. Small tags and post-its flew through the air like tossed confetti and when it had all settled, there were small piles of papers on his desk and the ones surrounding it, one pile neatly stacked in front of him, pink tags marking the top right corner of each page.

He picked them up and started flipping. He frowned at what he saw. He looked at the other stacks around him and went over to flip through each in turn. When he was done, he shrugged and pushed his lower lip out. He didn’t know what he had found, but it was the only link he had.

He pulled out a pad of paper from his desk and scrawled a note on it before folding it up and tapping it with his wand. He went to the window and whistled and soon a large eagle owl swooped down, out of the darkness to perch on a fixture for mounting flags outside the building.

“Take this to the Minister, Icarus,” he told the owl in a low voice. “Top priority. No idea what it is, but I’m sure someone does.”

The owl hooted in a low tone before allowing himself to be given the note and enchanted with a protection charm. He took a last look at the man before leaping off the fixture, his wings opening to catch the wind, and he glided off into the night.

Chapter 33

“It’s just a small gathering,” Hermione was trying not to sound whiny, but she knew she was failing miserably. “Just a local thing, really.”

Severus gave her a withering look over the top of his reading glasses. He sighed and shook his head. “I should wring that stupid cousin of mine’s neck for bringing this up in the first place.”

“Anna will be lonely,” Hermione pointed out.

Severus snorted. “I thought you said this was just a local thing.”

“Erm… relatively…” Hermione faltered.

“Relative to what?” Severus prodded.

“Northern Europe,” Hermione said quickly.

He quirked his head to the side and laughed, despite himself. “No!”

“Why don’t you want to?” Hermione asked him, her arms folded over her chest. She looked down at him as he put the scroll he was looking at on the coffee table.

“I’ve been to them before.” He screwed up his face. “You might be treated with some status, but sometimes things get ugly.”

“For being Muggle-born?” Hermione said, her face a look of shock.

“That… and for not knowing your place in the grand social dance going on around you… your posture, your shoes, your dancing skills, your ability to cast pretty, yet completely useless charms, and that’s just for starters.” Severus snorted. “Bunch of bullies.”

“Did they bully you?” Hermione asked, her brow furrowed.

“No.” He hesitated. “I used to be one of them.”

“Well, then you’ll know when it’s time to swoop in and rescue me,” Hermione said testily. “It’s Halloween. Everyone will be in a costume, anyway.”

“You’ll have to reign yourself in,” Severus said as he sat back on the couch. “This isn’t just about you or us, it’s about centuries of cat and mouse games within rival families for respect and power in their lands of origin. You won’t be able to speak your mind. It could effect the family’s business holdings.”

Hermione seemed to chew this over. “What if I’m attacked?”

“If someone is stupid enough to draw their wand, hex them into oblivion,” Severus said firmly. “If Anna doesn’t get to them first.”

“Or your mother…” Hermione muttered.

“Oh, I should have guessed!” Severus groaned dramatically and crossed his arms.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione asked, her chin jutting out defiantly and her hands on her hips.

“That my mother is an idiot.”

“Your mother is a very nice woman!” Hermione chided him.

“My mother is a great big pain in the—”

“Excuse me?”

Severus jumped and turned white at the appearance of his mother’s face in their fireplace. It was scowling at him.

“How long have you been there?” Severus tried to sound angry, but he wavered upon seeing his mother’s glare.

“Long enough to think I’m a pain only God knows where! Hermione, dear heart, I see you’ve been doing your best to ply him out of his temper,” Anastasia said lovingly. “But I think this will take a more direct approach.” Her eyes snapped to Severus, who jumped. “Severus Benjamin Rufus Snape, you will be taking your new bride to the Autumn Gala to present her to polite society, and that is an order!”

“Mother…”

Hermione found herself biting her lip as Severus completely lost his composure and whined at the Snape family matron.

His mother was pulled away from the fireplace and Jacob’s head popped into view. “Severus, if you don’t comply, she may finally nag me to death. If you love me, for the love of God, show up, do a turn, and leave.”

A scroll appeared out of nowhere and rapped him soundly on the head. He disappeared and Anastasia appeared again, a scowl on her face. “I’ve made some notes for you to look over. You’ve been out of society so long you won’t know half the people there.”

He let out another groan, but stopped as his mother reached her arm out of the fireplace and snapped her fingers at him.

“This is your own fault! You knew this day would come!”

“I certainly did not!” Severus blustered at her.

“Well, I did and that’s what is important!” Her voice was rising in pitch and Hermione was interested to see where this was going.

“I’ll go, I’ll go!” Severus threw his hands up in the air. “I’d rather bloody well hang myself, but I have a feeling you’d somehow revive me and make me suffer every second of my recovery time.”

“Don’t be a smart with me!” He mother snapped at him, but her expression had softened. “Here you go.” She tossed the scroll into the room; it rolled across the floor until it came to rest at Severus’ feet. “You’ll have a good time, Severus. You always used to.”

“I’ve grown up,” he said with a pained look on his face.

“You’ll see,” his mother assured him. “Hermione, don’t be afraid to pop over if you have any questions. I have a feeling you’re going to have many of them.”

“How did you get linked up to this Floo, anyway?” Severus asked suspiciously.

“Your father golfs with the new Minister.” Anastasia shrugged.

“Of course, he does,” Severus muttered.

“Thanks,” Hermione said to Anastasia, who took her eyes off Severus to beam at her daughter-in-law.

“It was nothing, my dear,” she said warmly. “I’ll see you soon.”

Hermione thanked her again and they said their goodbyes.

Severus sat on the couch, his arms folded in front of him, glaring at Hermione.

“Oh, what? You’re blaming me?” She blustered.

“You’re joking,” he said, completely blown-away. “How is this not your fault?”

“I was just trying to make it less painless, you bloody wanker,” she snapped at him. “She said you were going if she had to Imperio you!”

Severus opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on an irritated look. “She would, too.”

“I know.” Hermione nodded seriously. “That’s why I tried to convince you.”

“Even if I’m a bloody wanker?” He gave her a tired, sheepish look.

“Even then.” She slid next to him on the couch and put her arms around him. He grumbled, but didn’t pull away.

“I hate these things.”

“I know.”

“Will you be wearing descent robes, at least?” He glanced at her.

“Listen here, Rufus. I’ll wear whatever I like, whenever I like.” She snorted at him and he chuckled, despite himself.

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. He looked her over again. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but you should go shopping with Anna or Mother. They’ll know what all the styles and trends are this season and they can show you how to charge the family accounts.”

“I can buy my own costume,” Hermione said defensively.

“I know that, but father can use it as a business expense and I know Mother will insist,” he said with a resigned sigh.

“What about you?” Hermione asked.

“It doesn’t matter. Father’s bound to have nominated us for security detail. We aren’t allowed fancy dress. I don’t even want to think of some of the monstrosities she’s made me wear.” He shuddered. “Lavender, I ask you…”

Hermione could imagine, and she had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing.

---

“But the pink is so lovely…” Anastasia Snape trailed off as her eyes wandered over the men’s dress robes in front of her.

“He’d make sure to have some sort of accident so he could change,” Hermione said firmly. “They’re beautiful, but it would be completely wasted on him.

“You are right.” Stacy pouted at the robes. “Stubborn little beetle that he is.”

“Beetle?” Hermione asked before she could stop herself.

“That’s where he got all that nonsense from,” Stacy snorted as she pulled some light blue dress robes off a rack. “His grandmother gave him a black blanket when he was five. He crawled around everywhere pretending he was a beetle until he decided it made a better cape. He tried to take it with him to school, but I made him leave it behind. That’s when he started enlarging his robes.” She turned to face Hermione. “Just for spite, I tell you!”

Hermione giggled. “He’s always been like this?”

“He has!” She stated firmly.

“I think you’d go a lot farther with jewel tones,” Hermione suggested.

As Stacy began to mull this over, a salesman with wavy golden hair and a wide feral grin approached them.

“Ah, it’s always nice to see sisters coming in together,” he said warmly. “How may I assist you?”

One of his eyebrows quirked as he set his sights on Stacy.

“Young man, I am old enough to be your grandmother,” Stacy said in a sharp tone. “Now stop being silly and show me what you have in elven-made dress robes.”

The salesman boggled before bowing and bustling away to gather some designs to show them.

“Why do you tell people how old you are when you go through all the trouble of taking the youth potions?” Hermione asked curiously.

“How will people know how good I look for my age if I don’t tell them?” Stacy said as if this were completely obvious.

Hermione started to giggle. “Good point.”

“Now let’s go find our salesman with his tight little butt,” Stacy said, taking Hermione’s arm.

Hermione couldn’t contain herself and laughed out loud as her mother-in-law steered her towards their salesman and the rack of robes he had compiled for them to browse.

After some debate about fabrics and colors, Hermione and Stacy finally came to agreement on dress robes for Severus.

“Now we get to look for your costume, Stacy said with a twinkle in her eye. “There’s another shop I’d like to look in.”

Chapter 34

Hermione was dead tired, her arms around a First Year Slytherin girl who was finally sleeping, even though tears still streaked her face. She was gently disentangling herself when she felt something buzz in her pocket.

She bit back a curse as the girl frowned and began squirming. Hermione gently tucked her into bed and held her breath, The little girl’s face relaxed and she began sleeping soundly. Hermione let out her breath and scuttled out of the dormitory and into the Slytherin common room before pulling a coin out of her pocket.

Greenhouse Four

She frowned at the coin. She couldn’t think if a single reason she should be summoned to the greenhouses at all and began to grow suspicious.

She made her way through the castle, taking a long path through corridors before exiting the castle and walking along it’s perimeter until she could see the greenhouses.

All of them had lights blazing and she could see McGonagall, Dumbledore, Severus, Theodore Nott and Professor Sprout huddled together in what looked like a serious conversation.

Hermione bustled over once she saw that it was not a trap and was thankful when a wave of warmth washed over her as she opened the door.

“What took you so long?” Severus asked as soon as she was in and the door was shut behind her.

“Err…” Hermione fumbled. “I thought it might be some kind of trap, so I took the long way around.”

“Better to err on the side of caution.” Sprout nodded.

“We have a problem,” Theo said seriously. “Some plants have gone missing.”

“I’m guessing they weren’t daisies,” Hermione said grimly.

“You’re right about that,” Sprout snorted. “It was a flourishing Adenium obesum.”

“Isn’t that poisonous?” Hermione asked.

“It is a very pretty plant,” McGonagall interjected. “For all we know it will up in one of the common rooms with a love note on it.”

“We can always hope for the best,” said Dumbledore. “But that plant can be very dangerous—”

He froze at a humming sound and pulled a coin from his pocket.

“What is it, Albus?” McGonagall asked.

“The hospital wing.” He frowned down at the coin.

“Did anyone else get a summons?” McGonagall asked and everyone shook their heads.

“It’s a member of the faculty.” Severus said flatly.

---

Hermione sat on the worn couch in front of the fireplace in she and Severus’ quarters, biting her nails. She jumped at the creaking of the door and let out a relieved breath as Severus stepped through.

“How’s Mr. Filch?” Hermione asked, wincing as she saw an ancient tabby pad through the portal with him.

“He’ll live. It’s a good thing he was found so quickly.” Severus shook his head. “Bloody blow-dart to the back of his leg.”

Hermione found herself shivering, despite the cozy room. Mrs. Norris didn’t so much as look at Hermione before turning to go through the portal that led to her room.

“Cheeky,” Hermione sniffed at the cat’s retreating backside.

“There was something written on the wall,” Severus said hesitantly.

“What was it?” Hermione asked, an angry ball of ice starting to form in her stomach.

“Time to show yourselves,” Severus looked discontent. “Perhaps you should go for a visit somewhere.”

“Where would I go?” Hermione laughed.

“My parents’ house, your parents’ house, Anna and Pieter’s, even Yuri would like to see you.” Severus suggested.

“My home is wherever you are,” Hermione said firmly. “I will not have anyone chase me out of it.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“What now?” Hermione asked him.

“Plan B.”

---

Hermione flexed her arms experimentally in her new dragonhide body suit. “I think it fits correctly.”

“Good. You aren’t to take it off when you’re outside of our quarters.” Severus looked at her sternly.

“What about my head?” Hermione asked as Crookshanks and Mrs. Norris hopped off the couch, peering at her. “Surely you aren’t expecting me to wear a dragon-hide hood as well.”

“For that, we have this.” Severus pulled a silver chain from his pocket. “When you wear it, you might as well be wearing a glass helmet, even though you’ll look normal.”

“Like an invisible, heavy-duty, bubble-head charm?” She asked him.

“Exactly.”

“Will it even work in the rain?” Hermione asked curiously as she watched the cats make their hesitant way towards her.

“Yes, and it only goes one way so if you sneeze it won’t be a disaster.”

“Oh, good,” she said in a relieved tone as she looked back at him. “How will I eat?”

“In our quarters and only if an elf has brought it to you personally, or you have gone to the kitchens to fetch it yourself.”

“Fine,” Hermione said in a weary voice. “Anything else I should know?”

“If you are attacked, your Faculty Coin will alert the other members of the faculty,” Severus nodded. “Who will be informed of your whereabouts and be able to come assist you.”

“Don’t you think this is all silly?” Hermione asked him. She looked down at Crookshanks and Mrs. Norris, who were sniffing at her suspiciously.

“Not in the least,” he said coldly.

“What about you?” Hermione asked testily.

“What about me?” Severus asked, taken aback.

“You’re a sympathizer and the reason I’m here in the first place,” she pointed out. “Whoever it is, they’ll be sure to come after you sooner or later.”

“You can say that about any member of the staff!” Severus blustered.

“The more reason to have them all under protections,” Hermione said with a satisfied smirk. Crookshanks gave her leg an experimental swipe before jumping back at a metallic sound.

Severus glared at her, but then his shoulders slumped. “Perhaps it is a good precaution,” he muttered.

“We can bring it up to Dumbledore,” Hermione said gently as she leaned down to scratch Crookshanks on the head, but he ducked and slunk off quickly.

“I think we might be obligated to, if he hasn’t already thought of it.”

“Well, off to Diagon Alley with you for your own suit,” Hermione scooted him towards the fireplace. “I’ll stay here and terrorize the cats so they can get used to the smell.”

---

The faculty of Hogwarts sat at the staff table in the Great Hall, fidgeting with their robes and settling in for their evening meal.

Professor Sinistra had acquired a silver chain, much like Hermione’s, but had worn a small silver tikka she could attach it to while eating, keeping the rest of her head still covered. Hermione complimented her and soon the women were chattering about the ingenious enchanted jewelry that was being created as defense devices.

Professor Flitwick lifted a muffin to his mouth, only to have it bounce off an invisible barrier and crumble on to his plate. He swore and waved his wand: raising the chain in front of him and sticking to his forehead.

“It may take some getting used to, but as you can see, no one wants to take their protections off,” Dumbledore said to Severus sympathetically.

Professor Hooch strode in, her robes discarded, shimmering as the candlelight glimmered off the small scales of her armor, showing off her impressive muscle structure. She sat down and waved her wand at her head. Her gold necklace had a circular charm on it and when she cast the spell it had snapped to her face and surrounded her mouth as the loose chain drew itself together to make a seam that led from her chin to her chest.

“Show-off,” Flitwick muttered to himself as he tried to scoop up pieces of muffin with a spoon.

“What are you looking at, Minerva?” Dumbledore asked curiously.

“Two fourth years,” she said with a snort. “Young love gone awry.”

“Oh dear,” Professor Dumbledore said as he adjusted his spectacles as he watched the Ravenclaw table. A pretty red-haired girl was clutching her fork and seething at the Hufflepuff table; an attractive blond boy having his chin swiped at with a napkin held by a heavy-set girl with a bright smile.

“Oh…” Professor Sprout managed to squeak out as the Ravenclaw girl completely lost it and lunged over the table, casting hexes as she went.

The Hall went berserk. Several students had already taken sides and jumped at the chance to get a blast in; the prefects were shouting for order, and a group of older students jumped in to try and pry people apart.

The faculty rose to their feet and suddenly Flitwick and Professor Vector began to glow red.

Dumbledore pointed at his voice and roared: “Get back to your Houses IMMEDIATELY!” A sound like a giant lion filled the room and the children scrambled among themselves to grab their things and run out of the Hall.

“What makes you think they won’t just take it out into the hallway?” Severus asked him curiously.

Dumbledore waved him off. “If they were going to keep fighting, they would have stayed where they were.”

“I assure you, I will be talking to Miss Fredrickson,” Flitwick said with a dark expression on his face.

“Let’s take care of you first,” Dumbledore said in a practical tone. “Don’t move.”

The other teachers gathered around the glowing members of the faculty and began to examine them.

“I found one,” Hooch declared.

“I’ve got the other,” Flitwick said, motioning over his shoulder.

Dumbledore examined both of them, plucking the small darts away from their armor and slipping them into an envelope. “I think we’ll find these are the same as the others.”

Flitwick let out a breath as he began to fade back to his normal appearance.

“That’s not good,” McGonagall murmured to herself.

“I shouldn’t think so!” Flitwick scowled at her.

“What have you noticed?” Sinistra asked McGonagall.

“They were both hit in the back.” Severus said, already examining the wall behind the teacher’s table. He tapped it with his wand experimentally.

“It didn’t come from the student area?” Vector asked in surprise.

“Not a chance,” Hooch declared. “I think we need to make a sweep of the hall for booby-traps and everyone, take out your memories and put them in a Pensive while they’re still fresh.”

“I agree,” McGonagall said, nodding.

“Right.” Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together. “Seal the Hall and gather the Pensives in my office.”

The teachers murmured agreements among themselves, before shuffling out of the, in the direction of the Headmaster’s Office.

Chapter 35

“I hear they’ll be seeing you at the Ball,” Professor Sprout whispered loudly in a conspiratorial tone.

“I assure you, it wasn’t my choice,” Severus said stiffly as he wiped his mouth with his napkin before reaching for a nearby teapot.

She laughed and looked at Hermione, who was tapping the crown of a soft-boiled egg.

“You’ll enjoy yourself, Severus,” Dumbledore smiled merrily at him. “Change your life for an evening.”

Hermione shook her head. “It’s all his mother’s doing. She’s even dressing us.”

Severus winced at this remark, but Sprout tittered at the pair. “So, your mother is the one that wears the pants in the family?”

“She’s well-meaning,” Hermione said quickly before Severus had a chance to retort. “over-indulgent, but he is an only child and they have been waiting forever for him to get married.”

“Forever?” Severus frowned at her, but Sprout only giggled.

“You know what I mean,” she waved him off with a toast soldier.

Everyone looked up at the sound of a yell, but it was only a Ravenclaw celebrating a package of biscuits sent by owl from his mother.

The Great Hall had been unsealed after a week of searching, but no one managed to find anything that might suggest who or what had shot darts at the teachers. After Flitwick had given the go-ahead, the Hall was reopened with suspicion being thrown around by all the Houses.

“You know, all this nervousness might be good for us,” Flitwick pointed out in a squeaky voice as he gestured with a piece of sausage.

“How so?” Dumbledore asked inquisitively as he cut into his fried egg.

“Now all the students are watching out for each other. Now we’ve got hundreds of eyes looking for clues instead of just us.”

“You do have a point,” McGonagall said ruefully. “I hate to admit it.”

“At least no students have been injured,” Professor Vector pointed out.

“Yet.” Severus added.

“We are doing the best we can, Severus.” McGonagall rolled her eyes at him. “There’s not much more we can do besides tell the parents they need to buy their children armor and Repelling Chains.”

“That might be a good idea,” Hermione piped up and all eyes turned to her. “Oh, come on! There are several students with them already, after last week. It’s either protect them or send them home.”

Dumbledore drew in a deep breath. “I think you may have something. With one wolf amongst the flock it won’t be as frightening as fighting an idea or a madman.”

“You don’t know that.” Sprout looked surprised. “For all we know, it’s a group of students doing this.”

“It’s still an excellent opportunity to make the school brush up on its defense spells and charms. I think it’s been long enough that no one will faint at the casting of a hex,” McGonagall announced.

“I don’t know about that.” Theodore Nott, who had been silent up to this point, spoke in a soft voice that carried across the long table. “Hermione was up rocking a First Year to sleep not too long ago and I know there are still several boys that have been having… nighttime accidents.”

“Do you think they’d feel better if they could defend themselves better?” Dumbledore asked.

Hermione and Theo exchanged looks and pursed their lips.

“I think we should have levels of immersion,” Theo suggested. “So there will be a separate class for the ones that are still jumpy and afraid of casting spells. I know Professor Flitwick has had some problems getting certain children to use their wands.”

“I’ll second that,” McGonagall shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I know a few that don’t want to use them at all.”

“We’ve got to break them of this before it gets out of hand,” Severus said sternly. “We can’t have witches and wizards walking around afraid of magic.”

“Professor Snape is right,” Dumbledore said regretfully. “You’ve all come up with good ideas to combat this. We’ll plan a schedule for Practical Defense this weekend and begin its implementation on Monday. Agreed?”

They all voiced their approval and the tension that had been hovering over the staff table seemed to disperse.

The conversation turned to light topics as owls swooped overhead dropping scrolls and packages to the students. Suddenly, a brown owl swooped over the staff table and dropped a blue envelope in front of Professor Dumbledore.

He blushed as he tried to snatch it up and tuck it into his robes, but he ended up knocking over his goblet of pumpkin juice in his rush.

Professor Sprout chuckled to herself as she waved her wand to clean up the spill. “Looks like we may be seeing you at the Ball as well.”

Dumbledore looked alarmed as he looked at the envelope in his hands.

“You’ll enjoy yourself,” Severus said in a mocking tone. “Put change in your life for an evening.”

Dumbledore scowled at him before pocketing the envelope. “You don’t even know what this concerns. It’s probably just business. The information exchanges are going well.”

“I’m sure.” Severus smirked at him.

---

“Are you going, Ginny?” Luna Lovegood sat with Ginny and Hermione on Hermione’s bed in her quarters. “I’d think Harry would have gotten his invitation by now.”

“I’m sure he has.” Ginny snorted. “But you know all about him and dances. We’ve all been asked to attend.” She rolled her eyes. “War heroes and all.”

“Oh, I’d like to see you there,” Luna said, smiling mildly at Ginny. “It’s usually so boring.”

“Do you go every year?” Hermione asked, surprised.

“Oh, yes.” Luna sighed deeply. “Father uses it as an opportunity to make business contacts. He usually does very well. We get to go because my mother’s mother’s mother was a Longbottom.”

“You and Neville are cousins?” Hermione asked.

“Not really,” Luna said dreamily. “Although I wouldn’t mind. He’d make a very nice cousin. Anyway, one of my grandmother’s lived to be two hundred and thirty. She had her last baby at two hundred and two.” Luna looked as if she were doing some calculations in her head. “But the Longbottoms were never into longevity cultivation…”

“We get it,” Ginny interrupted. “There is are a lot of people between you”

“We have a Hogsmeade weekend coming up,” Luna said. “Will you be going with us?”

Hermione thought this over for a while, and then she began to grin deviously. “Well, we don’t have to go to Hogsmeade.”

“What are you thinking?” Ginny asked eagerly.

“Severus has a cousin that owns a bar. Our fireplace is hooked up to the Floo.” She grinned widely as the other girls giggled.

“I’ve always wanted to see Russia, even if it will only be the inside of a bar,” Luna said dreamily. “I hear they have Air-Nymphs there that feed on the tips of people’s hair and fill them with a small electric charge.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just static electricity,” Ginny pointed out.

“You never know,” Luna smiled. “I know father’s got a prototype for his Mythical Goggles in his workshop. I’m sure he’d let me borrow them.”

“Um…” Hermione faltered. “I’d hate to see them get broken, Luna. They do a lot of boisterous dancing there.”

“Whatever you think, Hermione,” Luna said.

“What else is there to see?” Ginny jumped in before Luna suggested taking anything else.

“I— I’m not sure,” Hermione admitted. “We might be able to visit Anna or Stacy.”

“That might be a good idea,” Luna said. “I talked to Anna at the celebration feast and she was very nice. She thinks my theory on Crumple-Horned Snorcaks might be sound.

Ginny tried not to laugh at Hermione’s expression.

“I—had no idea you’d gotten on so well. Maybe. I’ll have to ask everyone.” Hermione promised.

There was a sound of someone entering Hermione and Severus’ quarters and the girls turned at the noise.

“La, la, lalala,” a voice boomed. Luna’s eyebrows went up. “Boom, ba, da!”

“We’re in here!” Hermione called out, cutting him off and glaring at Ginny, who had both hands clamped over her mouth and tears building up in her eyes.

His head popped around the corner, into her room and his widened at the sight of the girls.

“You have a lovely voice, Professor,” Luna said in a mildly surprised tone of voice. “Maybe you should integrate it into your lessons.

Severus’ usual scowl reappeared on his face and his eyes snapped to Ginny, who was trying to stay composed, but it was obvious she was trying not to laugh.

“We were planning the next Hogsmeade trip.” Hermione grinned at him. “We’re thinking of using the time to visit your family in Russia.”

“Oh, good.” Severus looked relieved. “Now I won’t have her haranguing me that she never sees you.”

“I saw her not too long ago!” Hermione protested.

“Do you have any idea how much she’s been nagging me to come back home?” Severus had a weary look on his face.

“What?” Hermione blustered. “Why?”

“Hermione,” Luna put a hand on her arm. “Pure-blood families generally tend to live in one of the family manors. All of them.”

“If they can afford it,” Ginny snorted.

“Oh,” Hermione said, blushing. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Ginny laughed. “If I had to live with my brothers for the rest of my life I’d hang myself in the attic.”

The girls tittered and gave Severus time to regain full composure. He still wasn’t used to being familiar with people and it made him feel compromised.

But, these were his wife’s dearest friends. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to be stuck with her merry band of misfits for the rest of his life. He inwardly groaned at the idea.

“Why are you back so early?” Hermione asked him.

“I need the plant from my bedroom. The fifth years need another lesson in glowing potions.”

Ginny groaned and Severus scowled at her. “It would do you good to review your lessons as well. Your last test score was sorely disappointing.”

Ginny turned pink as Severus retreated from the doorway. “I hate it when he does that,” she muttered.

“It’s just one more year,” Luna consoled her. “Then you have tryouts and a career.”

Ginny laughed as Hermione cocked an eyebrow.

“The Hornets are holding open tryouts in July,” Ginny looked embarrassed. “But there’s no guarantee I’ll get a shot.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Hermione reassured her. “They’d be silly not to take you.”

Ginny chortled and opened a small brass pocket watch. “I’m afraid it’s time for me to go. I still have to go to the common room to get my things.”

“I should go, too,” Luna admitted. “I need to drop off a library book on the way to Transfigurations.”

Hermione said her goodbyes to her friends and walked them to the portal that would lead them out of the quarters.

As the door swung open the girls stopped and stared. There was an antique dagger stuck into the head of the stone fish that guarded the portal. The rock seemed to have melted where the dagger had been plunged in.

“What on earth is that?” Ginny breathed in.

Hermione grabbed her friends before sealing the portal up. “Nothing good. Thank God, we’re hooked up to the Floo.”

“I’d forgotten all about that,” Luna smiled serenely. “Where should we go?”

“Safest place to be.” Hermione shrugged. “Dumbledore’s office.”

Chapter 36

“We can’t stay in here forever. The Tin-Tinkles will get to us sooner or later.”

Hermione gave Ginny a tired look. “Do I even want to know?”

“Oh, why not?” Ginny said with a sigh. “What are Tin-Tinkles, Luna?”

“They hide within the nooks and crannies of ancient magical items,” Luna said seriously. “There are probably thousands in this room. The tickle the brain and addle the senses.”

“Well, they haven’t gotten to Dumbledore. I shouldn’t think we need to be worried.” Ginny said, a tension line starting to form between her eyebrows.

“There’s probably some debate about that,” Hermione remarked.

“I assure you, there are no Tin-Tinkles in here,” Dumbledore said in a reassuring voice as he entered the room; Severus, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout in tow. “I perform an enchantment once a month to make sure I don’t get any little creatures nesting in here.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Luna settled into her chair. “I was going to start worrying about doxies next.”

“I’d think you’d know about why there aren’t any doxies, Miss Lovegood,” Dumbledore said with a surprised voice. “They’re quite the delicacy for House-elves. Any that find their way in here wouldn’t last the day.”

“I didn’t know that,” Luna said, impressed.

“Well, now that we do,” Severus said in an irritated voice, “can we talk about the knife stuck into the statue in front of my quarters?”

“Well the good news is that’s it’s obviously an enchanted blade,” Flitwick offered up. “We’re not worrying about a magically advanced student.”

“Just a student with a store of enchanted weapons,” Severus said stonily. “Well, that’s obviously much better.”

“A store of weapons can be discovered and destroyed,” McGonagall said in an annoyed tone of voice. “Without having to take down a student by brute force.”

“How would they get weapons into the school?” Hermione asked.

“I think we’re beginning to realize things have been hidden away in the castle for generations,” Dumbledore said grimly. “I think we might have to bar entrance to the Room of Requirement.”

“We should have barred it to begin with,” Severus said scornfully.

“Perhaps we can repurpose it,” McGonagall said with pursed lips. “Make it into a classroom.”

“I could use more storage space,” Sprout said excitedly.

“We’re not going to do anything right away.” Dumbledore shook his head. “We need this person to come to us.”

“I say we put up silent alarms and traps,” Severus suggested. “I’m sure it will uncover all sorts of interesting things.”

“We don’t want to lock up the whole school, Severus,” Flitwick said wearily. “We’re after one student.”

“Or a group,” McGonagall added.

“Not every sixth year that wants privacy to pull one off,” Flitwick said grumpily.

Ginny, Hermione, and Luna burst out laughing, causing the tiny man to blush a deep red.

“Filius, really!” McGonagall scowled at him.

“I’m sure we can all come upon a reasonable agreement,” Dumbledore said as he walked over to his desk. He picked up a quill and began scratching out a message on a piece of parchment. “Until then, one of these girls is in grave danger.”

“My family has the resources to harbor them,” Severus said with a tone of finality.

“Which is exactly why you’re not to involve them at all.”

Severus’ eyebrows went together and he took a deep breath.

“He’s right.” Hermione gave him a pained look before he began shouting. “We don’t need anyone bothering your family. They’re pure-bloods. No one will bother them if we’re somewhere else.”

“You don’t know that!” Severus protested.

“That’s why they’re going to stay with the Amazons,” Dumbledore said firmly.

“What about Halloween?” Luna asked.

“I’m not leaving you here!” Hermione crossed her arms stubbornly.

“What about the ball?” Ginny blurted out.

Dumbledore gave them all a weary look.

“I’m sure we can come up with some arrangement. Severus, I can see why Hermione would be worried. We don’t know who that dagger was meant to threaten.” Severus looked startled at the idea of a student threatening him. “If I didn’t think you’d kill yourself trying to break back into the school I’d send you off to the Mystic Brotherhood’s stronghold.” Hermione giggled and Severus threw her a dirty look as Dumbledore gave her an amused one.

“Miss Weasley, I’m sure that a function with all the major dignitaries of Europe attending will have incredible security.” Dumbledore reassured her.

“Just a local thing?” Severus couldn’t contain himself and glared at his wife.

“I said ‘relatively,'” Hermione grumbled as Flitwick began silently shaking from suppressed tittering. “Now I can see why your mother wanted to make your agreement into an Unbreakable Vow.”

“Severus, I’m sure it will be fine and the more you’re seen in public together, the quicker people will stop talking about you two,” McGonagall assured him.

“And we can transfigure you into a decorative centerpiece from time to time if you’re really that worried about being bothered by certain people,” Sprout said, rolling her eyes. “You’re not getting out of this one. Your mother even contacted me.”

“What?” Severus looked appalled. “Whatever for?”

“She wanted to know if there were any herbs that would make you more agreeable—”

“I cannot believe that woman!” Snape burst out. “Of all the inappropriate—”

“Severus, you can’t blame your mother for acting like one,” Dumbledore said with a sigh as Severus seemed to steam in his own anger. “Miss Lovegood, I’m not sure what we can do with Halloween. We’ll just have to see.”

Luna nodded solemnly. “I understand the Amazons have advanced knowledge of magical creatures. I’m sure we’ll have enough to keep us up with our studies.”

“Except for Hermione,” Ginny chimed in.

“I’m always up for learning something new,” Hermione shrugged. She heard Severus try to hide a burst of sound with a fake cough and her cheeks burned red. She clenched her teeth. “I’d still feel better if he were somewhere else.”

Anywhere else, if he was going to act like a pervert.

“I know this little bed and breakfast—” Flitwick was jostled as Sprout bumped into him to stop his teasing.

“I’m sure you do,” Dumbledore said in an amused tone. Hermione decided it was best not to think about it.

“How long will it be before we leave?” Ginny sighed in resignation.

“As fast as we can get you out,” Dumbledore said regretfully. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay in here.” He waved his wand and a platter of sandwiches and fruit appeared on his desk. “If you must use the water closet, it’s behind the grandfather clock. It swings out if you pull on the right side. I’ll let you use your own judgment before concerning the beverages you find in the cabinet.”

The girls thanked him, and the Headmaster left with the Heads of House in tow.

“So now we’re independent study students?” Ginny’s voice wavered.

“It will be an amazing opportunity,” Luna said as she smiled serenely. “Harry will have to wait to see you, but I think he’ll manage.”

“What?” Ginny squeaked out.

“You’ve been leaving the castle?” Hermione breathed in. “You could get into a lot of trouble!”

“How did you know?” Ginny demanded.

“Sir Cadogen,” Luna admitted. “Sometimes he does his own bed checks at night.”

“That little pervert!” Ginny squealed.

“He’s actually been worried you aren’t getting enough sleep,” Luna assured her. “I don’t think he’s the type to run about gossiping.”

Ginny groaned. “Well, I’m not going to be doing it anymore. I wasn’t even if I stayed.”

“Really?” Luna looked at her curiously. “Why not?”

“I really like sleeping.” Ginny looked sheepish.

Hermione laughed and there was a small ‘pop’ as a house-elf appeared near Dumbledore’s desk, jumping as it saw the girls.

“I’m sorry, Mistresses!” It cried out. “Fuzby didn’t know anyone was in the Headmaster’s Office!”

“Then where did the sandwiches come from?” Luna asked the elf, tilting her head as she looked at him.

“I didn’t come from the kitchens, Miss.” The elf bowed at her. “I just finished the Transfigurations classroom. Now I do the Headmaster’s Office, then the boy’s bathroom near the Astronomy Tower, and then I scrub down before helping with dinner.” He beamed proudly.

“That’s certainly a lot to do,” Luna remarked.

“It is.” Fuzby nodded vigorously. “Fuzby has very important jobs.”

“Say, Fuzby,” Ginny looked thoughtful, “when you’re doing your work have you been noticing anything strange?”

“Strange?” His brows knitted together. “Like what?”

“Anyone skulking around at night that shouldn’t?” Hermione encouraged.

“Some of the elves say they see a shadow at night.” Fuzby shuddered. “But Fuzby hasn’t ever seen it.”

“A shadow?” Luna asked.

“Does the Headmaster know this?” Hermione asked.

“He does.” Fuzby nodded again. “We’ve been told to hide if we see it.”

“I think that’s a very good idea,” Hermione agreed. “Keep yourself safe. Can you use magic against them?”

“Fuzby doesn’t have that authority.” A deep blush spread over his face, to the tips of his ears. “Fuzby is only a third-generation elf.”

“How does that work, Fuzby?” Hermione’s interest was piqued. “What do you mean third-generation?”

“Fuzby’s grandmother was the first in his line to be born at Hogwarts,” the little elf explained. “Only fifth generation and up are allowed to use magic for the benefit of the school.”

“That’s very interesting, Fuzby,” Ginny said firmly. “Thank you. Now, if you could leave us?”

“Of course!” Fuzby bowed deeply before he disappeared.

“What did you do that for?” Hermione asked her in an annoyed tone.

“Stopping you before you evoked your faculty privilege and granted him the ability to use magic.” Ginny folded her arms. “I’m not going to be responsible for you granting magic on any random elf that pops into the room.”

Hermione drew in a breath, but Luna cut her off.

“You should look at all this,” she called out from the cabinet of drinks.

“What is it?” Ginny asked.

“What isn’t it?” Luna sounded surprised so the other girls decided to investigate.

“I think he might have every soft drink known to man,” Ginny said in astonishment.

“What’s Teddy Tendergrass’s Bug Oil Tonic?” Hermione read off one label.

“I don’t know,” Ginny said, bewilderedly. “What’s Admirals Salt Water Slush?”

They had settled back in their seats and were eating the sandwiches when the door to the office opened and Dumbledore and Snape marched in, trailed by Professors McGonagall and Flitwick.

“It looks like you’ll be seeing mother after all,” Severus said grimly.

“It appears that the Brotherhood and the Amazons have been having some smaller, technical meetings at the Snape Estate.” Professor Dumbledore sounded strained. “The enhanced security should be enough to keep out nearly anything or anyone.”

“Miss Weasley,” Professor McGonagall beckoned to her. “There are a few things we have to go over before you leave.”

“As do I, Miss Lovegood.” Flitwick cleared his voice and the girls paired off with their respective Heads of House.

“Why do I get the impression that the meetings aren’t good news?” Hermione asked as soon as the others were out of earshot.

“The meetings are fine,” Severus snorted. “Their location has a lot to be desired.”

“How?” Hermione asked curiously.

“They’re too close to family.” Severus’ lips were pressed tight.

“Well…” Hermione hesitated. “At least they’ll be keeping an eye on your parents.”

Severus rolled his eyes at her.

“And we’ll be able to keep an eye on each other,” Ginny offered.

“Heaven help us,” Severus groaned.

Chapter 37

“Girls! It’s so good to see you!”

Hermione smiled at her mother-in-law weakly. “I wish it could be under better circumstances.”

“Nonsense!” Anastasia pouted prettily, her eyes glittering with mischief. “Any time is good for us!”

Jacob harrumphed from the doorway to the dining room, a fake scowl on his face.

“Don’t you start!” Anastasia warned him.

“It’s good to see you again, lovely daughter.” Jacob beamed at the enclave of girls. “I have a feeling the estate will never be the same. I don’t think it’s ever had this many girls in it.”

“Three generations ago, dear,” Anastasia corrected him.

“Oh, I believe you’re right,” Jacob nodded. “Then there were seven, counting the mother.”

“The only thing I am sad about is that you are so away from our Severus. All this time wasted when you could be making children.” Anastasia hugged the girls in turn.

Ginny burst out laughing at the look on Hermione’s face.

“Oh, don’t let her fool you,” Anastasia said slyly to Hermione and Luna. “I hear she’s got quite the man wrapped around her finger.”

This time it was Hermione’s turn to laugh at the look on Ginny’s face. “It almost makes me sad I didn’t take advantage of the Law,” she said wistfully. “Then I might have a husband. That Justin Fitch-Fletchly was quite good looking.”

“Oh, you girls have plenty of time for all that!” Anastasia told them. “Things are so much different from when I was young!”

Hermione looked at Jacob and he shook his head and chuckled.

“You have such a lovely home,” Luna said as her eyes wandered over the ballroom, from the liquid floor, to the floral accents, to the map of the constellations set into the ceiling.

“Thank you, dear,” Anastasia said warmly.

Luna’s eyes stayed riveted to the ceiling. “Why are there stars out of place?”

“What?” Jacob hurried over to stare at what Luna was looking at.

“There,” Luna pointed to an area, “and there.”

“How are they wrong?” Jacob squinted. “They’re in the right places!”

“Not precisely,” Luna said as she continued squinting at them. “If this were accurate it would literally throw off the whole of Arithmantic studies.”

Jacob was silent. “How so?”

“All the variables would be changed.” Luna shrugged.

“How?” Jacob demanded to know.

“I’d have to figure it out, but it looks like somewhere between four to eight percent. It would change the Hennessy Theory for sure.” Luna shrugged.

“But, that’s the whole foundation of Arithmancy!” Jacob spluttered.

“I know.” Luna tilted her head as she looked up. “Strange, isn’t it? How long ago was it installed?”

“My father did it sometime before I was born,” Jacob said with his eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

“I can go over some calculations, if you like. It might be something interesting to do.”

“You do that.” Jacob gave her an appraising look.

“Well, one of you has something to do. What about the rest of you?”

“I’m sure we’ll find something. Plus, Ginny and Luna still have their schoolwork.” Hermione pointed out.

“Do you always have to be thinking about studying?” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Do you always have to be thinking about Quidditch?” Hermione laughed.

Jacob perked up at this. “You play Quidditch?”

“She’s on the team,” Hermione said merrily, her eyes twinkling as Ginny blushed in embarrassment.

“You are?” Jacob asked excitedly.

“And she’s trying out for the Hornets,” Luna added proudly.

Jacob’s face began to light up, but Anastasia smacked him on the shoulder.

“You are far too old to be on a broomstick!” Anastasia chided him.

“I am not!” Jacob said defensively.

“You’re old enough for the senior team!” Anastasia scoffed.

“At least I’m still young enough to play! You’re acting like I’m decrepit!” Jacob scowled at her.

“In five years you won’t be qualified to play anymore and that’s close enough for me!”

Ginny’s eyes flickered to Hermione, who motioned for she and Luna to follow once the bickering started.

“Are they always like that?” Ginny chuckled as the fight went on, oblivious to the girls’ absence.

“On and off,” Hermione shrugged as she led them to the kitchens.

“A preservation cube!” Ginny said excitedly. “Wow! My grandmother had one of these!”

“Really?” Hermione asked.

“No one really uses them anymore because refrigerators replaced iceboxes and cellars.” Ginny walked over to it and looked it over. “This one is in really good shape.”

“Help yourselves, girls,” Jacob said as he entered the kitchen. “Food always settles down a fright.”

Anastasia snorted as she whisked herself past him and into the kitchen. “With you, food is always the solution.”

“No one ever made a situation better by starving themselves.” He gave her an annoyed look.

“I’ll just put a kettle on,” Hermione said, her voice louder than usual. “Ginny, can you open the box or did your grandmother just use it as a safeguard for your brothers?”

“How many brothers do you have, dear?” Anastasia asked absent-mindedly as she clattered for teacups in a cupboard.

“Six. All older.” Ginny made a face as she slid open the box.

“She’d have probably been better off hexing the whole kitchen.” Jacob chuckled in amusement.

“She threatened it more than once, that’s for sure.” Ginny snorted.

“We were both lucky to have sisters.” Anastasia remarked to her husband.

“At least I only had two!” Jacob pointed out. “You had eleven!”

“We managed just fine!” Anastasia lowered her eyebrows at him.

“Until Ball Season came around. Then you nearly drove your father to suicide with your bickering!”

“Sibling rivalry! Nothing more.”

“Would you like me to Floo in one of your sisters to verify that?” Jacob asked in a withering voice. “I do believe there’s a Mr. Kensington that’s never quite recovered from being fought over.”

“I quite like Ball Season,” Luna piped up. “All of those pretty robes swirling around.”

“Oh, do they still do that?” Ginny looked nervous.

“I forgot! You girls probably don’t know all the traditional dances!” Anastasia gasped.

“Don’t worry,” Jacob reassured Ginny and Hermione. “We will fix that.”

---

“I hate this.” Severus scowled at his cup of tea.

“If there was another solution we would be using it.” Professor McGonagall folded her arms and gave Severus a stern look as Professor Sprout refilled her teacup.

“You could always go join them,” Flitwick said in an urging tone of voice.

“Why do you keep attempting to convince me to leave?” Severus peered at the tiny wizard, who was seated in the largest chair the school faculty room had to offer.

“He’s got big plans for your lab and some racing brooms,” McGonagall said, Flitwick’s face breaking into an expression of horror. “But he’s right. You should be protecting your family.”

“And leave this maniac with my lab?” Severus said haughtily. “I think not.”

“You haven’t even seen my plans yet!” Flitwick protested with a scowl.

“If it’s anything like your bounce enhancement project, not in a hundred lifetimes,” Severus said in an annoyed tone. “I have no idea what possessed you to use my desk as a test. We never did find it, you know.”

“I said I was sorry!” Flitwick said in an exasperated voice.

“Slytherin won’t fall without you.” Sprout examined him over the rims of her reading glasses.

“Who would look after them?” He sniffed.

“I say Professor Sinistra’s had her eye on the position for quite some time,” Flitwick suggested.

“Has she?” Severus’ eyebrows went up.

“It’s a good opportunity for you to test her, for further responsibilities,” McGonagall said to Dumbledore, who had been quiet up to this point, thoughtfully stirring his cocoa with the end of his wand.

“I agree with both of you.” Dumbledore sighed. “If you don’t feel comfortable leaving the students I urge you to stay. I know there will be increased security in Russia, so Hermione is safe there. However, I know if I were in your position I would want to be with family.

“Slytherin is my family,” Severus said with a tone of finality.

“That all changed when you said ‘I do,’ my friend.” Flitwick smirked at the potions master.

---

Severus landed in the Snape Estate’s ballroom fireplace and was surprised to see Hermione jump to her feet.

“Oh!” She looked relieved. “Thank God you’re not your mother.”

“For your sake, I’ll have to agree.” He snorted at her.

There was a loud whoop from outside and Severus frowned. “What’s all that noise?”

“The reason we’re all going to get murdered.” Hermione moaned.

Severus scowled as he went to the nearest window and peered out.

A jolly game of Quidditch was going on: Ginny and Luna against a pretty, young girl with long blond hair and an extremely good-looking boy in his late teens.

Severus let out a groan before he headed for the nearest door.

“Mother is going to kill you!” He yelled at the merry foursome.

“Oh, come on, now.” The young man swept down to greet them, his brow soaked with sweat and his breathing coming in huffs. He had dark, shaggy black hair and freckles covering his face. His eyes were twinkling, and his face had a mischievous look to it.

“How many potions did you take?” Severus squeaked as he looked at his father in horror. “They’re supposed to build up in your system.”

“I did build them up.” Jacob looked nervous. “Sort of.”

Severus cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I spread it out throughout the morning,” Jacob mumbled.

“You’d have had to! Mother would miss them if you didn’t!” Severus huffed.

“Well, now you’re here to help replace them.” Jacob slapped his son on the shoulder. “Your mother will never be the wiser.”

“Oh, I won’t, will I?”

A cold voice came from behind Severus and his whole body whipped around in fear. He was thankful his mother wasn’t looking at him. He looked up at the three girls still in the air. “Run!”

The girls sped off, around the corner of the building; leaving the ball they had been throwing back and forth to hit the grass with a dull ‘thud.’

She scowled at Severus.

“Don’t look at me, I just got here.” He held his hands up.

“Of course, you did, dear.” Anastasia patted his face. “I heard you chiding your father. What a good boy I have!”

Hermione began to snicker.

“And you poor dear.” She turned to Hermione. “I’m sure you had nothing to do with this.”

“What?” Jacob blustered. “And how did you come by the information you’re spouting?” Jacob glared at Anastasia.

“Because I know you, that’s why!” Anastasia snapped at him. “And having Svetlana up there with you! Yuri would have a heart attack if he saw her up there!”

“Svetlana’s here?” Severus asked stiffly.”

“And she’s an unbelievable beater, I tell you!” Jacob insisted.

Anastasia threw her hands up in frustration and stormed away.

“I really wasn’t expecting—” Severus began, but his father cut him off.

“It’s about time you got over yourself, Severus.” Jacob shook his head. “No one blames you except for her batty grandmother and no one’s taken her seriously for years. Svetlana’s mother died years after the first war ended. No one saw it coming.”

“Does everyone know I was a double-agent?” Severus asked, looking embarrassed.

“Did you really think it wouldn’t be in the papers now that all this is over?” Jacob snorted. “Your mother should thank you for her expanding social calendar.”

“This Ball Season nonsense will be even worse than normal?” Severus pinched the skin between his eyebrows. “Wonderful.”

“I’m sure your new bride will be more than equipped for the job of fending off other women.” Jacob chuckled.

“What?” Hermione squeaked.

“Don’t worry about high society nonsense.” Jacob assured her. “Things have gotten quite vulgar in the last few years.”

“I assure you my wife is not accustomed to vulgar activities,” Severus said coolly.

“Can you deflect a hex?” Jacob looked at Hermione.

“Yes!” Hermione looked appalled at the idea he thought her so useless in a fight.

“Cast a decent one?” He was grinning at her.

“Of course, I can!” Hermione sniffed.

“Anything else?” He prompted.

“I’m competent in transfigurations, charms, and defense spells. I was trained by Harry Potter in Defense Against the Dark Arts for a year, and I was a representative of Gryffindor in the school’s dueling club my seventh year.” Hermione scowled.

“More than capable.” He shook his head at Severus.

“It’s come to that?” Severus looked appalled.

“There was even a poisoning last year, but arrangements have been made to make that impossible this year.” Jacob shook his head.

“I should hope so!” Severus drew himself up.

“It was over a decades-old rivalry.” Jacob waved his son off. “Not over something petty or recent.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Hermione said with a sigh of relief. “So, we’re safe.”

Severus looked down at her pityingly and snorted. “For now.”

Chapter 38

Hermione blinked blearily at the Ministry guard standing in the room. She embarrassedly wondered if she’d done anything undignified in her sleep before she stretched her arms and shifted under the heavy bedclothes.

“Are you finally awake, Hermione?” Luna was already sitting up in her bed as Ginny groaned and stirred in hers.

“I am, but I’m not sure she is.” Hermione nodded to Ginny in amusement.

“She’s been awake on and off for hours.” Luna snorted as Ginny made several rude noises about having to get up.

“Oh, come on!” Hermione laughed. “You two are going to meet the Amazons and be a part of all this!”

“Are the boys going to the Brotherhood, then?” Luna asked curiously. “I would imagine all the societies in the world would be clamoring for him.”

“I’d never thought of that,” Hermione shrugged. “I suppose we’d have to ask, but I thought you had to be related by bloodline.”

“No one’s said anything to me about it.” Ginny yawned and poked her head out from her covers, her head a tousle of red hair. “But Harry’s got an awful lot of mail to go through. Told him he needed a secretary.”

A pained look ran over Hermione’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Ginny asked.

“Harry’s seventeen,” Hermione said, wincing. “He shouldn’t have to have a secretary. Or a funny face. And you should have all your fingers. I shouldn’t be married.”

“You regret getting married?” Ginny breathed in shock.

“No.” Hermione shook her head. “But doesn’t it seem like we should be doing all of this in ten years or more?”

“The rules change when there’s a war,” Ginny said flatly. The guard grunted in agreement.

“I suppose you’re right,” Hermione admitted with a smile, throwing a look at the guard. They weren’t supposed to recognize them in any way, ignoring them as if they weren’t even there, but Hermione had a hard time ignoring a man in her bedroom.

“I expected Professor Snape to be here,” Luna said as she peered around the room.

“Did you think he’d agree to anything besides commuting?” Hermione chuckled as she slipped out of bed and into her slippers.

Ginny snorted. “At least he won’t be teaching us anymore.”

“You’d be surprised to know how much we collaborate.” Hermione winced at Ginny’s scowl.

“Ah,” Luna said dreamily as she climbed out of bed and waved her wand at herself, going instantly from bedclothes to day robes. “Well, I don’t mind Professor Snape. I mean, potions are just like cooking, aren’t they?”

Hermione felt a pang of guilt for realizing her knowledge had a gap in it. “Erm… I guess so.”

“You don’t know how to cook?” Ginny asked, her eyes widening. “Seriously?”

“Well, it’s not like we have kitchen duty at Hogwarts,” Hermione said grumpily. “And my mum was never very good in the kitchen.”

“Well, it’s just like cooking,” Luna assured her.

“Cooking is easy,” Ginny snorted sarcasticaally.

“My point is that there are different levels of skill for everyone. You just need to practice more.” Luna pointed out.

Hermione and Ginny both pulled faces at her and they all laughed as Ginny began rooting around in a sack near her bed.

“When are we meeting with them?” Ginny asked as she came up with a toothbrush in her hand.

“They said three quarters of morning,” Hermione said uneasily. “I think that means 9 o’clock.”

“Well, getting ready early just means we’ll have more time to explore,” Ginny said mischievously.

The girls laughed and quickly prepared themselves for the day, Luna finally settling on a floppy straw hat.

They skittered through the manor on their way to the kitchens, looking at the guards and paintings as they went.

“And what trouble are you three up to?” An accusing voice called out of a room they had just passed.

“Exploring,” Hermione called out sheepishly.

“After breakfast,” Ginny offered, as if this made everything all better.

“Well, that sounds like quite an adventure!” There was a rustling as someone set down a newspaper and Jacob popped his head out of the study. “Now that I can move like I used to, I wouldn’t mind doing poking around!”

Hermione recoiled at the sight of him. Ginny tilted her head. Luna fixed him with a curious look.

“I know,” he said sheepishly. His hand went to the large bumps on his forehead and down to the ones forming on his chin and cheekbones.

“So that’s what happens when you take them improperly,” Ginny remarked as she pursed her lips at him. “Huh.”

“Severus says I’ll have a few more days before I go back to the way I was,” Jacob admitted.

“Does it hurt?” Luna asked.

“No. Just ugly.”

“Come on then,” Ginny said with a half-yawn.

Jacob looked delighted as he joined their group, Hermione still eying his bumpy face.

“And where do you think you are going?”

A strong female voice rang out and Jacob and Hermione both winced as Anastasia stormed out of an alcove where she had been reading a book.

“The girls were curious about the cellars. I was going to accompany them—”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort.” Anastasia sniffed at him. “Young ladies bring out the teenager in you and you’ll never survive all the trips to the infirmary at your age!”

She scowled darkly and Jacob smiled at her. “You used to love all my stunts!”

“That was before you nearly killed yourself trying to hunt down a kraken!” Anastasia put her fists on her hips and glared at him.

Jacob sighed in resignation. “Hermione, you know where Severus keeps his laboratory. Go down the corridor that goes off to the left before you get to it. Go to the end and start moving boxes. There’s a passageway behind it.”

“There is?” Anastasia asked blankly.

“I have discovered something you don’t know?” Jacob asked sarcastically. “Maybe we should alert the media.”

Anastasia whipped out her wand and hit him with a body-bind curse. The girls gasped as he fell to the floor, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Perhaps I should join you,” Anastasia suggested happily as Jacob made mean sounds at her. “It sounds like fun!”

Suddenly Jacob’s nose turned blue and his noises became more irritated.

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, wondering if something had gone wrong.

“It’s a timed curse. Fifteen minutes. It changes color every five so the victim knows how long they’re in for. It will go to indigo and violet before he’s freed.” Anastasia smirked at her husband and he growled at her. “Not in front of the girls! There’s enough time for your sweet words later.”

He let out a muffled ‘harrumph’ and his eyes relaxed. She bent over to kiss him, and Ginny let out a giggle.

Hermione had to bite her lower lip, but Luna looked curious. “Is this what you’d call a time-out?”

“A timed time-out,” Ginny snickered.

“Then let’s go!” Anastasia said happily. “I think we’ll summon food when we get down there. I wouldn’t want to lose precious time eating or packing breakfast.”

Hermione let out a quiet snort as they headed off towards the subterranean levels of the house.

---

“Your mother is insane!”

Severus snorted at his father, who was sitting on the low leather couch in the Snape quarters at Hogwarts; a bump on his head and a scowl on his face.

“I could have told you that.”

“Then they ran off without me!”

“Where to, exactly?”

---

Severus Snape tore through his family home in Russia, not trusting himself enough to Apparate into the cellars. He knew the girls would be walking and crawling and he hoped they hadn’t gotten very far.

When he saw his mother wander through a room down the hallway from him he got a sinking feeling.

“Mother!” Severus said, trying to cover his wheezing. “How… unexpected. I thought you all went exploring.”

“We did!” she said proudly. “And we even found something!”

“Small black casket. Charmed with a permanent sticking curse.”

“Is that what that was?” Anastasia chortled. “You were always such a clever boy!”

“Where are they?” Severus practically squeaked in fear. “Where’s the box?”

“Is it dangerous?” Anastasia looked alarmed.

“Only to me if Hermione gets it open.” He winced.

“They took it upstairs to the girls’ room. Darling, if I had known—”

“Trust me, mother. The contents of that box are nothing I want to talk about now, let alone when I was sixteen.”

“Was it a trunk of love tidings?” His mother teased him, batting her eyelashes.

His red face confirmed it and her face contorted into one of horror.

“Run!” The spun him around and pushed him. “They might not have gotten it open!”

Severus practically flew upstairs and to the room the girls shared. He could hear quiet weeping and soothing sounds punctuated by Luna saying things like: ‘you’re being silly’ and ‘it was long ago.’

Well, at least Lovegood had his side.

The guard, who had decided to stand outside during a teenaged emotional breakdown, gave Severus a very judgmental look.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. Then he frowned.

The contents of the box were spread out over the bed. He had never thought about breaking the box open, leaving the seal intact. He looked down and winced at what he saw.

He felt his face burn.

Gods, of all the ones to be looking me smack in the face.

He stared down at Lily Evans’ face: her bright eyes, her pretty smile, and the freckles on her cheeks.

All four of them.

Severus had forgotten about how lovely her bum had looked to him when he’d snapped that picture. Another lay nearby, showing a laughing Severus and Lily sharing a pillow. Their shoulders were both bare.

“Um…” Ginny faltered. “Hey Luna, why don’t we go check out that blue room we saw earlier. The one with all the glass figurines.”

Luna gave Hermione’s shoulders a quick squeeze before leaving the room with Ginny.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” Severus said, his eyes pleading.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Hermione said, wiping her tears away angrily. “It was before my parents had even met. It shouldn’t bother me.”

“Honestly, I’d forgotten about it,” Severus admitted. “Until father told me where you all went off to.”

“He went to get you for backup?” Hermione scowled. “Of all the sneaky—”

“He just wanted a potion for the bump on his head,” Severus said, chuckling. “She really got him good this time.”

“I still can’t believe she did it.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know she had it in her,” Severus countered.

Hermione giggled and Severus felt his face soften. He was glad his wife was less prone to throwing hexes than his mother.

Hermione looked down at the contents of the box: the pictures, the dried flowers, a purple ribbon, and several opened letters. Then she took a deep breath.

“Harry should have these.” Hermione said before thinking. She saw Severus’ face and inwardly kicked herself. “I mean, he’d like to know about this side of his mother. The girl his own age, not just his mother.”

“Not all of it, I’m sure.” Severus cocked an eyebrow as he picked up a picture of Lily, taken from behind. She was nude and waggling her bum cheekily at the cameraman.

Hermione burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh please! Just to see his face! We’ll modify his memory so he won’t be scarred for life!”

Severus gave his wife a scandalized look. “Hermione Granger-Snape, you’re a very wicked girl!” He crawled over the contents of the box to get to her. He kissed her and was surprised when she kissed him fiercely, her hands going to his chest and tugging at his clothing.

“Have something to prove, do we?” Severus growled at her as she ripped his vest open, the small buttons pinging off things in the room.

When they were done, nude and panting for breath, Severus raised his wand and repaired the items on the bed that had been damaged and whisked them back into the box. Hermione raised an eye at him.

“I just want to keep it all in one place. You can always smash it open again later,” he said with amusement.

“What was in that yellow envelope?” Hermione asked curiously. “We couldn’t get it open.”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Severus said, rolling over and sitting on the edge of the bed to put his clothing back on.

“What is it?”

“Pictures of her corpse,” Severus said bitterly. “One of the Death Eaters thought I might want it as a trophy.”

Hermione gasped in horror. “What a horrible thing!”

“Well, it wasn’t like I was spending my time with the London supper club crowd,” Severus said sarcastically.

“Really?” Hermione asked in surprise. “The Malfoy’s aren’t?”

“Perhaps some of them are,” Severus admitted. He looked at her before sighing deeply.

Hermione cocked her head at him. “What is it?”

“How do you manage to do it? Is it some sort of witchery?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can make me laugh. Even over terrible things.”

Hermione snorted. “It’s not me. I’m sarcastic and you’re self-projecting.”

“My love is just some sort of narcissism?” Severus asked.

“Absolutely,” Hermione said as she began dressing. “It also explains our age difference.”

“How?” He asked curiously, his eyes beginning to dart around as if searching something.

“I make you feel youthful and alive and not the elderly old prune that you are.” She whirled around and reached for her pillow, but he had it out of her reach and was swinging the other at her.

She squealed as he buffeted her firmly and tried to wrestle one out of his hand, but he refused to let go, giving her a few more swats with the other. He ripped the pillow Hermione was hanging on to away from her and threw them as far as he could.

“There,” he snarled. “Now you can tell people I beat you properly!”

The door opened and Luna and Ginny poked their heads in.

“The Amazons are here,” Ginny said.

“Are they going to the Ball as well?” Luna asked curiously.

“I—I have no idea,” Hermione admitted, never having thought about this before.

“Is the red-haired one really Dumbledore’s daughter?” Ginny asked in awe. “I’ve seen her, but I haven’t talked to her.”

“Be gone, you hens,” Severus said with a scowl. “You represent from Hogwarts! Start acting like it!”

Ginny and Luna zipped out as Hermione furrowed her eyes at Severus.

Hermione waved her wand and she and Severus were both presentable. He opened the door and motioned for her to go through.

“Wait!” Severus barked. Hermione turned to look at him and he hit her with a spell that felt like a small shock. As she swore he did the same thing to himself.

“What was that?” Hermione scowled at him.

“I wouldn’t want the Jotun to snap if she catches a scent of mating,” Severus said stiffly.

Hermione nodded in agreement, but she felt her cheeks burning.

Chapter 39

“He has a picture of my mother doing what?”

“They’re not dirty,” Hermione huffed. “If they were I’d have destroyed them.”

“You’d really have done it?” Ron poked his head back out. He snorted. “I’d have been right angry if you’d done that to me!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Hermione said in an annoyed tone. “If anyone found out he had dirty pictures of sixteen-year-old girls his life at Hogwarts would be over, regardless of who it is and when they were taken.”

“Well, he does have a teenage wife,” Ron pointed out.

“That’s not the point!” Hermione threw her hands up. “Do you want them or not?”

“Did he say it was OK?” Harry asked her suspiciously. He leaned back onto his desk and dropped his head as a giant pile of letters behind him slumphed to the floor.

Hermione fidgeted. “He agreed.”

Harry shook his head before looking back to Hermione. “He’s not in any of them, is he?”

“There’s one where he’s laughing with her,” Hermione admitted.

“Well, that’s not bad.” Harry mulled things over. “You know, I think I would like to see them.”

Ron made a rude noise. “I wouldn’t want to see any cheeky pictures of my mum.”

“Well, you grew up with her, didn’t you?” Hermione scowled. “Harry never had a chance to know his mum. Every little bit counts.”

He shrugged, but kept his head in the stacks.

“Can you visit?” Hermione asked tentatively.

“I think I can squeeze it in.” Harry grinned, his serpentine face looking ghoulish. “You’re connected to a direct Floo from Hogwarts, aren’t you?”

---

Asta quirked a corner of her mouth at Ginny. “You are distracted.”

Ginny shook her head and her cheeks pinked as she chopped her herbs finer. “Harry’s supposed to come today.”

“Ah,” Asta said knowingly. Nyssa rolled her eyes behind her charge. “When I’m expecting a letter from Mikhail I tend to get clumsy as well.”

“And this is why there are no males in the tower.” Nyssa said firmly. “We would never get anything done and there would be children underfoot everywhere.”

Hermione mulled this over as she dropped some beetles into her cauldron. She had been considering this as well. If they had a child, perhaps one of the house-elves would take extra pay to watch the child when she worked.

“Isn’t there a Floo in your quarters?” Ginny asked, frowning.

“Severus said he’d let him in.” Hermione reassured her friend.

“I don’t think the problem will be letting him in,” Luna said as a delicate pink smoke rose from her cauldron. “I think the problem will be with Professor Snape showing up to let him in.”

“Especially since you’re giving away his nudie pictures,” Ginny chimed in with a giggle.

“Enough!” Nyssa scowled. “More potions, less men! Look how far Luna has gotten compared to you!”

Hermione had to admit the older witch was right.

Hermione heard the door to the basements creak open and Anastasia and Harry’s voices resonating through the cavernous areas.

“He’s here!” Ginny squeaked, almost knocking over a vial of dragonfly wings.

“Fine!” Nyssa said grumpily. “Go! You’re a liability! Blow us all up for some young pup—”

Nyssa’s face froze as Harry popped his head through the door. Ginny ran to him and hugged him.

“I was just going to tell you Mrs. Snape has lunch laid out for us,” Harry said cheerfully. “But if you’re not done…”

“We’re almost done, Harry,” Luna said, looking at him thoughtfully.

“We can teach you,” Asta offered, but Harry shook his head firmly. “I’ve had quite enough of potions for a lifetime, thank you.”

“Tell Anastasia we’re very grateful and we will be up in a few moments.” Nyssa said, as warm as she could muster.

“Will do!” Harry grinned at them again before whisking Ginny out of the potions’ lab, their feet stomping through the basements and their giggles leading them to above ground.

Nyssa fixed Luna with a look. “You didn’t tell us.”

The blond girl shrugged as she bottled her potion. “He’s been in the papers. Alexandra and Sophia both saw him.”

“What do they know!” Nyssa scoffed. “A librarian and an archer.” She snorted loudly.

“Is there something I should know?” Hermione asked nervously.

Nyssa regarded her coolly. “No. Not now. Perhaps later.”

Hermione looked at Luna, but she was looking into her satchel.

“We’d have to do some tests,” Asta shrugged.

“What kinds of tests?” Hermione asked nervously.

Nyssa sighed. “We will talk of it to Dumbledore. Perhaps he has already done them. They said he was fine when they sent him home?”

“Yes.” Hermione nodded as her potion let up small puffs of black smoke.

“He would know best.” Nyssa said soothingly. “I’m sure your friend is fine.”

“But if he wasn’t, what would be wrong with him?” Hermione asked nervously.

“He’d be cursed.”

---

Severus came through the fireplace of the Russian Estate in a foul mood. He stomped by the door to the dining room to make himself known, then Apparated upstairs.

“What was all that about?” Harry asked.

“Something has upset him and he went to the pond to fish. When he returns he’ll tell you what is wrong.” Anastasia began to pour herself a cup of tea.

Hermione slowly sat down again and Harry offered her a strawberry. “You can’t worry about him all the time. You’ll drive yourself mad.”

---

The three girls were all sleeping when the shadowy figure made its way toward them. It slipped by the guards without so much as a glance and entered the room without trouble.

A wand in the dark. Silencing spells falling over the beds. The curtains were pulled tight. No one would know a thing.

---

Ginny yawned and opened her bed curtains. She could hear a radio and Luna doing her morning routine.

“Good morning,” Luna said as she swept by with wet hair.

“Got a proper soak?” Ginny remarked as she rubbed her eyes.

“Well, neither of you were up yet and I figured if I had time to kill…”

“Say no more.” Ginny blinked blearily. “Thanks for the silencing spell.”

“It wasn’t me,” Luna said with a curious look at Hermione’s bed, the curtains still pulled tight.

“She was probably up late reading.” Ginny wrinkled her nose. “She might already be up.”

“I’ll just take a peep,” Luna said, creeping towards Hermione’s bed as if she might wake it up. She gently took a corner between her fingers and slowly pulled a sliver open.

A deafening noise assaulted her, and Luna was so startled she fell backwards.

Ginny burst out laughing.

“It’s a flock of Russian pixies!” Luna squealed, scrabbling for her wand.

“I don’t think so.” Ginny said firmly as she pulled out her own wand and waved it at Hermione’s bed.

The curtains were flung open and Severus Snape groaned and rolled over as Hermione buried her head further under the covers.

Ginny snorted and closed the curtains. “Gross.”

“How does she sleep with that noise?” Luna asked in wonderment.

“There’s a charm. Mum has to use it from time to time; I have no idea what it is.” Ginny admitted.

“Brilliant.”

Suddenly a small white creature began scratching at the window. Ginny looked at it, her jaw dropped, as Luna went to the window to let it in.

“How do you know it’s safe?” Ginny squeaked.

“Are you safe?” Luna asked the furry dragon as it came in and settled on the carpet.

“I would hope so!” It croaked out in a snooty tone. “Where’s the Holder of the Shard?”

“Sleeping. Would you like me to wake her?” Luna asked politely.

“Is her mate nearby?” It peered around the room.

“He’s with her,” Ginny said, arching an eyebrow.

It made a snorting noise. “Mates lead to laziness.”

“You’ve been in that tower too long,” Ginny rolled her eyes and went to find her toothbrush.

“What’s will all the animosity towards having a mate?” Luna asked.

“Asta’s courtship is proving to be most troublesome. Owls back and forth at all hours. Then there’s the matter of the mechanical mice.” It said grumpily.

“I’m nearly afraid to ask,” Hermione said as she slipped through the curtains to her bed.

“He thought he would endear himself to her sisters and sent along a fleet of mechanical mice to sway their favor.” Ginny started giggling as the little snow dragon made a face. “Now they’re overrunning the libraries, popping out to do ‘entertaining’ things.”

“They’re not as entertaining as he had planned?” Hermione said in mock surprise. “How unexpected!”

“They’re always underfoot and constantly jumping out of the shelves to whistle a tune or dance.” He thought. “They are delicious, though.”

Hermione shook her head and decided not to ask anymore. “Did you just come to have breakfast, K’pluur?”

“Already had mine.” He let out a burp that sounded oddly mechanical. “This is from Dumbledore.”

“Dumbledore?” Hermione asked. He motioned to the brown satchel he carried close to his chest and she pulled a scroll out. She tried to unroll it but it refused. She frowned.

“Your husband must be present, and you must have privacy,” K’pluur explained.

The scroll seemed to become heavier in Hermione’s hands. She had the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

---

“Do you have him somewhere safe?” Hermione demanded.

“He’s been confined to an unused portion of the dungeons. Azkaban seemed unwise and there are too many dark items stashed around Grimmauld place.” Dumbledore walked beside her as they travelled down a corridor. “This was the only place left besides Nurmengard.”

She swallowed back a lump in her throat. “I thought you said he was fine!”

“We don’t have any way to measure this, I’m afraid.” Dumbledore admitted. “This particular curse hasn’t been used for over a thousand years, to our knowledge.”

Severus strode beside her, her feet trying to catch up to him and Dumbledore. They made a sudden turn and walked through a long, thin corridor with a door only at the end. Hermione felt herself shaking and she shivered as Dumbledore pulled a key ring out of his robes and began unlocking the assortment of devices on the door. He finally pointed his wand at the door and there was a loud ‘SNAP’ and a red spark in the center of the door. He opened the heavy door and Hermione was surprised to see the other side of the door had been lined with metal.

“Was this a fairy prison?” Hermione asked, her face aghast.

“If it can hold a fairy, it can hold nearly anything.” Harry was sitting on the edge of a bed in a roomy cell. The bed was plain, but there was enough room for a fluffy chair and a stack of books.

“You don’t even get a table?” Hermione frowned.

“I don’t think you’re very familiar with the way wizarding prisons operate,” Severus said in a bristling tone.

“This really is luxurious, Hermione,” Harry said softly. “I’m grateful for it… and hey, at least it isn’t another cupboard under the stairs.” He gave her a weak smile.

She took a deep breath. “What happened, Harry?”

“I… I don’t even know how to explain it,” Harry said, looking both embarrassed and angry.

“We’re not sure it was a properly cast curse, Harry,” Dumbledore said sadly. “We will be doing our best.”

“What do the Amazons say?” Hermione asked.

Dumbledore glanced at Severus. “They have a theory, but it hasn’t been proven yet.”

Harry shook his head and lay down. “Even if it is, I wouldn’t ask it.”

“If you were found guilty, you’d be confined to the sanitarium at St. Mungo’s,” Dumbledore said in a reminding tone.

“It’s not Azkaban.” Harry said firmly.

“What are you talking about?” Hermione scowled.

“When Tom’s magic exploded, I got hit with shrapnel,” Harry said with a snort.

“That’s an excellent way of explaining it, Harry,” Dumbledore said encouragingly. “The more you can tell us the better.”

Harry snorted.

“You killed people, Harry,” Hermione said unbelievingly. “How did this even happen?”

“Ask Ginny,” Harry said as he rolled over, his back to them.

Dumbledore motioned for them to leave the room and Hermione followed numbly. The door closed with a solid ‘thump’ and there was a clockwork sound as all the locks slid back into place.

“Is Ginny OK?” Hermione asked, afraid to ask.

“She’s gone home,” Dumbledore said sadly. “Molly felt it was best if she was with family.”

“Is she being charged with anything?” Hermione looked worried.

“No,” Dumbledore said shaking his head. “Since he’s cooperating with us, they legally can’t charge Ginny.”

Severus stiffened. “Did you know anything about this?” he barked at Hermione.

“Know what?” Hermione asked defensively.

“That Miss Weasley has been Mrs. Potter for some time now.”

---

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from asking the question everyone wanted to know: what happened to Harry? In fact, it had been this morning’s headline for the Daily Prophet.

Rumors were circulating and some of them were true. Small groups of wizards were beginning to argue if it weren’t for the Muggles none of this would have happened. Three people were arrested in Death Eater robes and masks. There was talk of a serpent-influenced cult, although Harry seemed genuinely baffled when asked about it. They had used Veritaserum during the questioning as per Harry’s request, but there were mutterings over whether he had the ability to overpower the potion.

Thankfully, there had been no mention of an elopement or Ginny in general in the news. Molly thought they had just gotten lucky, but Hermione knew the new editor of the Prophet wanted to get on the good side of the new Minister and the last way to do that was to demonize his youngest child.

“The Amazons still have to question him,” Ginny said glumly. “Nyssa came around to tell me she would be doing the interrogation and testing. I think she wanted to do the same to me and was irritated she couldn’t.”

“Well, let her be,” Hermione said firmly.

“But I’m supposed to be a representative of—”

“Oh, Severus can stuff it!” Hermione said angrily. “The pact with the Amazons had to do with the destruction of Voldemort and to oversee a treaty signing. The agreement was completed the day the Ministry blew up. The Shard is the only thing being researched cooperatively right now and that has nothing to do with Hogwarts.”

“Then why were they still teaching us if they weren’t involved with the school?” Ginny asked.

“I—I don’t know,” Hermione said, surprised she had never wondered this herself. “Maybe to keep up good relations?” She knew as soon as she said this how silly it sounded.

“Maybe to keep their eyes on that pretty piece of jewelry you’ve got,” Molly huffed as she brought a tray of tea and biscuits into the parlor.

“Or so Dumbledore will keep having excuses to contact the Amazons,” Ginny giggled.

Hermione snickered as she reached for her teacup. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley began, dipping her biscuit into her tea. Hermione saw her friend wince. “Since you are married now you have responsibilities to take care of.”

“What?” Ginny screwed up her face.

“If Harry does go away, even for a short while, it wouldn’t help to have all his paperwork in order. “Do you know anything about his accounts? Where the title to Grimmauld Place is?” Molly said gently.

“She’s right,” Hermione said before Ginny could say anything. “I know it’s not about money, but if he does go away, you’ll still need to keep up the house and pay bills. You have to get this all sorted out while you still have access to him.”

Ginny looked defeated, but still threw a face at her mother.

“That’s my girl,” Molly said, patting her daughter on the knee. “There’s a long road to travel, but it’s not over yet.”

Chapter 40

“It could be a lot worse.” Hermione had reached through the bars to touch Harry’s hand.

“I know.” Harry took a deep breath and drew his hands from her. He put a hand to his forehead and blinked hard. “Molly could want to kill me.”

Hermione laughed and sat up straight in the chair she had transfigured for herself. “Now, you know that will never happen.”

Harry chuckled. “I can’t believe Ginny asked me for the household papers instead of serving me with divorce papers.”

“Please.” Hermione snorted loudly. “You two are made for each other.”

“That’s what they said about you and Ron.”

Hermione paused. “I know. But the timing was never right and he kept acting like a clod.”

“Like things were perfect when you got married.” Harry quirked a corner of his mouth at her. “That worked out.”

“I was drunk, and ballet was involved,” Hermione said hotly.

Harry laughed deeply.

There was a loud noise from the door behind Hermione and it swung open to reveal Kingsley Shacklebolt and two guards. The guards began to advance, but Kingsley stopped them.

“This room will kill anyone that tries to do harmful damage and he doesn’t have his wand. You can wait in the hall while conduct the interview.”

The guards bowed sharply as Kingsley shut the door.

“How’re you holding up, Harry?” Kingsley asked as he pulled a generously sized tin of cookies out of his robes. “From the Burrow.”

“You would get into so much trouble if anyone knew what you were doing!” Hermione squeaked. “People could call you a sympathizer!”

“They’ll have to get more on me than Molly’s cookies.” Kingsley pooh-poohed her.

“Need to take more samples?” Harry asked. Kingsley gave him a regretful look and Harry sighed as he began to disrobe.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked, taken aback.

“Hair, skin, blood samples. Some pictures to top it all off,” Kingsley listed as he began to unload equipment from under his robes.

“How much stuff do you have in there?” Hermione asked in an astonished voice.

“I think I lost a portable grill, but I may have left it at my brothers,” Kingsley admitted.

Harry stripped down to his pants and Kingsley began poking and prodding him through the bars.

“But why are you taking the samples?” Hermione flinched as Kingsley plucked a few hairs from Harry’s chest.

“Have the Department of Mysteries working overtime on this one, not that they’re minding,” Kingsley said grimly. “If we can prove he wasn’t in his right senses and we can reverse his state, he might be able to get off with supervised parole.”

“That’s a lot of ‘ifs.'” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“Well it’s better than nothing.” Harry shrugged.

“Ginny told me—” Hermione hesitated. “Ginny told me those men were horrible and deserved it after—after what they did to Tom and the other small boys.”

“What’s this?” Kingsley looked surprised.

“You didn’t tell anyone?” Hermione yelled.

“I figured I’d get to say my piece at the trial.” He turned around so Kingsley could draw green glowing runes on his back with the tip of his wand.

“Good grief, Harry!” Kingsley burst out, his face mightily annoyed. “This could change everything!”

Harry looked sheepish. “I really didn’t think it mattered.”

Hermione would have slapped him if she could reach him. “We need to get you council. Before the trial.”

“I agree.” Kingsley said as he straightened himself up. “We need to know everything before you walk into that room.”

Harry sighed deeply. “It’s not even my story to tell.”

“You got directly involved.” Hermione pointed out. “It’s yours now.”

He seemed to mull this over as he began to pull his robes back on. “I’ll think about it.”

“I think you’d better.” Hermione said, her mouth a hard line.

---

“Madam Snape, will you be at the International Ball?” A fourth year Slytherin girl looked at her curiously.

It was a Hogsmede weekend and Hermione, Ginny, and Luna had been allowed to mingle with the other students since there had been no attacks outside the school. Hermione shared a cup of tea with Blaise while Ginny and Luna ran off to catch up on gossip with their classmates.

She sat down the cup of tea she had been sharing with Blaise. “Yes. Professor Snape will be there as well.”

She looked abashed. “Oh. Okay.”

“What’s wrong with her going, Amanda?” Blaise asked curiously.

“My mother wanted to know.” She blushed deeply.

“You tell your mother if she wants to be a nosy busybody do it on her own time and keep it away from the school. It’s highly inappropriate, but that does seem to be one of her strong points, isn’t it?” Blaise said snootily.

The girl suppressed a giggle and ran off.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked, confused.

“Her mother being a silly bitch.” Blaise snorted as he sipped at his tea. “We’re third cousins. The woman is useless.”

“That wasn’t very nice.” Hermione laughed as a group of seventh years ran by giggling mischievously.

“I don’t care. She irritates me and she knows it,” Blaise said grumpily as he reached for a biscuit.

“Are you going?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I’m going with Theo Nott. We’re going to try and give our mothers a heart attack.”

“That’s a very good idea.” Hermione nodded.

“Even if you think you should, don’t back out,” Blaise said warningly. “If you start backing down now it’ll just get worse.”

“Already making protective jewelry.” Hermione grinned as she sipped at her cup. “And not just for rogue Death Eaters.

“I hear it’s been getting rough. That’s why I’m bringing back up,” Blaise admitted.

“Think there’s going to be a fight over you?” Hermione teased.

“Probably not, but I’m lucky enough to be clueless and wandering around in search of a canapé when the hexes start flying,” Blaise snorted.

“Is your mother coming?” Hermione asked in what she hoped was a polite voice.

“She’s scoping out a new husband in Jamaica. I doubt she’ll be back.” He sounded disgusted.

“You’ll be thankful for women that like elderly men when you’re older.” She chuckled. “One day she’s going to hear about the black widow rumors you’re spreading around and you’re going to be dead.”

“I’m not a student anymore.” Blaise shrugged. “Couldn’t care less if people know now.”

Hermione was lifting her cup to her lips when the yelling started.

The pair jumped up from their chairs, running away from the café and towards the disturbance.

There was a mob of students standing around, but when Hermione and Blaise fought their way to the center, they were surprised to see two adults fighting. A broken wand lay on the ground nearby.

Hermione groaned as she recognized a face.

“Mundungus Fletcher, what have you done this time?” Hermione squawked as she waved her wand and the pair was pulled apart.

Blaise broke up the students as they made disappointed noises and scowled at the councilors.

“He’s selling fake protections!” A squat, white haired man accused. “Those trinkets don’t even have a whisper of magic about them!”

Hermione rounded on Mundungus and he cringed at the expression on her face. “What have you been up to?” She demanded.

“Just some novelty items,” Mundungus said, already cowering. “The sir mistook them for—”

“I didn’t mistake your intentions!” The man yelled. “You’re making coin off these poor, terrified children!”

A third year that hadn’t strayed far made a rude noise.

Hermione threw the student a look before turning back to the men. “Mundungus, give him back his money and whatever else you’ve taken today. We’ll refund the Hogwarts students and donate the rest to St. Mungo’s. End of discussion. Hand it over.”

The small man handed over a small leather bag and gave her a deep scowl before he Disapparated.

Hermione shook her head in disgust. “How much does he owe you?” she asked the white-haired man.

The man licked his lips as he looked at the bag, but at a glare from Hermione he admitted to a single galleon. She refunded it to him before she pocketed it and turned to Blaise.

“I see this becoming a bigger problem very quickly.”

---

“What a horrible little man!” Nyssa cried out as Hermione retold the story. She rounded on Asta. “See! This is what men do! Wasting time! Wasting resources! On what? Nonsense!”

“What am I missing?” Hermione looked at Asta.

“There have been talks of where Mikhail and I would live if things proceed. I’m too valuable to be romping around, they say.” Asta looked sad.

“What?” Hermione blustered. She rounded on Nyssa. “Like a slave? Like a commodity? What would the Jotun think, what would they do if they knew that’s how she was being treated?”

“They’re back in their mountain and we’re keeping her safe. What do they know?” Nyssa said coolly.

“I think they’ll know plenty if your prophecy brings us back to them!” Hermione’s chin stuck out stubbornly.

Nyssa threw her hands up in frustration and stormed from the room.

“Well, you won that round,” Ginny commented as she stirred her cauldron. Thin wisps of smoke were rising from it and she was beginning to look distressed. She stirred faster.

“Sophia suggested I see more of the world before I make a decision,” Asta admitted, the tips of her hair blushing blue.

“What does she suggest?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

“All of the attacks at Hogwarts have been primitive.” Asta sprinkled a pinch of chopped grass into a cauldron and it hissed at her. “They would not be a match for my natural talents.”

“Hogwarts is outsourcing?” Ginny said in a mocking tone. “What’s the world coming to?”

“I think it’s a good opportunity for you.” Luna, who had been silent until now, looked up from her neatly bottled potions. “I love studying with the Amazons. It’s an amazing challenge. But, I’d rather finish my last year at Hogwarts and join the Amazons properly instead of having it as supplemental.”

Asta nodded, as if she were rolling the idea around in her head. “It can be hard, living between two worlds.”

“Exactly,” Ginny said, “but, that’s the point.”

“What is the point?” Asta asked, a confused expression on her face.

“Getting a good look before you decide what path is right for you.”

Asta sighed. “Sometimes it’s a matter of fighting your way to even get a glimpse.”

Dancing Lesson Plans

Severus frowned at Hermione. “I fail to see why this is ‘good news.'”

“Because Asta will root out the trouble in no time and have some space to think about things. For all we know, she’s rushing into things with this boy from the Brotherhood because she thinks she might not get another chance!” Hermione said exasperatedly. “Bit of fresh air and change of scenery to clean out the cobwebs, as it were.”

Severus snorted. “This could blow up in all of our faces.”

“It was Dumbledore’s idea!” Hermione crossed her arms at her husband.

“Oh, that makes it all better,” Severus snapped. “Because his plans always go so bloody well!”

“Don’t swear!” Anastasia’s voice rang out from a nearby room in the Snape Estate.

He looked irritated.

“Would you rather she sparks off another war with the Amazons and the Brotherhood?” Hermione snapped.

“Well, then at least everyone will be busy as we sneak off and stay out of it!” Severus bellowed.

“Anna. Would. Murder. You.” Hermione spelled out for her daft husband.

He looked taken aback. Then he paled. “Why is it always me?” His voice had a whining ring to it.

“Because you have such a big heart and were born to do the right thing,” Anastasia fawned as she strode into the room, a tea service floating behind her.

“A little privacy, please?” Severus tried to stare down his mother, but she waved him off.

“I know when an argument is over. You should learn. It would save you many troubles.” She pushed him and he fell back into an armchair. “The deed has been done. It is over both of your heads. Your wife is able to keep an eye on things. What more do you want?”

“How about silence about all this and some civilized conversation to enjoy with our tea?” Jacob said sternly as he walked into the room, a newspaper under one arm.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Anastasia said in a sing-song voice that had a hint of warning to it.

Hermione and Severus both grumbled before settling in for their tea. Jacob rolled his eyes at the pair.

“Where did Ginny and Luna run off to?” Hermione asked curiously.

“They went with Svetlana to Yuri’s establishment.” Anastasia said as she poured some tea. “Something about… Russian Pixies? Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

Hermione bit back a laugh. “I think I might have.”

“Well, it sounded much like our Crumple-Horned Snorkack excursions,” Anastasia said dismissively. “I’m sure they’ll have fun getting into Yuri’s hair.”

“As long as they’re not here creating havoc, I don’t care what they’re hunting,” Severus grumbled.

Jacob snorted. “I’m going to love to see what you’re like as a father.”

Anastasia batted him on the shoulder. “Snape men mellow with age. I’m sure he’ll be a wonderful father once they get older and more settled.”

Hermione inwardly let out a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about pressure to be a mother on top of everything else.

“Get a dog instead,” Jacob said in a loud whisper, as if Anastasia couldn’t hear him. “Less bother and you can train them to fetch your slippers.”

Anastasia smacked him harder this time. Hermione giggled despite herself.

Crookshanks, who had padded in after the tea service made a disgruntled noise.

“This one would never allow it.” Severus sniffed and was rewarded with a swath of orange fur on the leg of his pants.

“No, he probably wouldn’t, would he?” Anastasia bent down to ruffle Crookshanks fur and he was more than happy to let her do it. “Just like your father. Doesn’t like to share any attention, do you?”

“I am not the cat’s father!” Severus snapped, but his mother just gave Hermione a weary look.

Hermione shrugged and Severus gave her a disgusted look.

“Well, I am yours and we have some deciding to do,” Jacob interjected as he reached for the sugar. “Like all of this Ball nonsense.”

Anastasia gave him a look. “All of this Ball nonsense is what separates us from the other families. It shows that our line is strong and wise. That we are powerful!”

Jacob snorted.

“And that’s why we were chosen to dance in the Lords’ Procession,” Anastasia finished.

“Oh, Gods, mother! How much did that cost?” Severus blurted out.

“Not a cent!” Anastasia said hotly. “It is because of who we are.”

“Or rather, who you are,” Jacob said to Severus and Hermione. “It’s always been prestigious to have war heroes on the procession. Shows they were good enough to make it through a battle with enough limbs and senses afterwards to shake a tail feather on the dance floor.”

Hermione tried not to choke at the last statement.

“Either way: you were chosen, you are not declining, and you need practice. Madam Natasha will be over this evening to look you over.” Anna nodded firmly.

“That mad old bat is still alive?” Severus exploded.

“She is alive and well,” Anastasia said in a warning tone. “You will treat her with the respect and courtesy she’s due!”

“What about me? I’m a war hero now.” Severus said as he scowled at his mother.

“Both of you, stop it!” Jacob reached for a scone. “Stacy, stop nagging him. Severus, stop upsetting your mother. I don’t want to hear a peep until I get to the Quidditch section!” He snapped his newspaper open for emphasis.

Both grumbled, but the room was silent except for the clink of porcelain and the turning of pages.

“Erm…” Hermione hazarded. “Who is Madam Natasha?”

“The family dance instructor. She’s been making us look noble and cultured for decades,” Anastasia explained. “She’s tough, but you’ll look wonderful.”

“If she doesn’t break your feet first,” Severus grumbled. “Look out for that staff of hers.”

“It was only a toe and it was because you were acting like a twelve-year-old!” Anastasia snapped.

“I was a twelve-year-old!”

“I give up!” Jacob snapped his paper shut. He piled a small plate with cakes and sandwiches and stood up, reaching for his cup of tea.

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Anastasia pouted.

“I’m not taking meals with you two until this is all sorted out. I’m an old man and my heart can’t take it anymore!”

Both Anastasia and Severus snorted, causing Hermione to bite her lips so she didn’t laugh.

“I’ll be in my study, should war break out,” Jacob announced before marching out of the room. Hermione secretly wished she could join him.

“Three o’clock!” Anastasia snapped as she rose to her feet. “She’ll be waiting in the Ballroom. Don’t be late!”

Severus groaned.

---

Hermione watched as Severus tried to stare down the tiny woman.

“I’ll not let you treat me like a child, I am a grown man!” Severus said in a low, warning tone.

The woman rapped him hard in the shin with an oak staff and Hermione winced as he doubled over. “Then act like one!”

She focused her attentions at Hermione and squinted. Hermione tried not to shrink back at the woman’s scrutiny.

“You danced with Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball.” It was a statement, not a question.

Hermione nodded.

“Two-left feet.” The woman scowled.

“Well, it’s not like I had more than an hour of instruction.” Hermione put her hands on her hips.

“Your family are Muggles.” Again, it was a statement. “Not bad for an hour. There’s hope, yet.”

Hermione didn’t know why she felt as pleased as she did.

“You remember the Ukrainian Waltz, don’t you?” Her attention swung back to Severus.

“Of course,” Severus ground out between clenched teeth.

“First position. On three. One, two…”

͠

“That woman is certifiably insane!” Severus thundered as Hermione lay on her bed, laughing.

The door opened and Ginny and Luna wandered in.

“What’s your mum done now?” Ginny asked curiously.

“We had our first dance lesson,” Hermione said, still giggling. “God save us all!”

“She one of the crazy ones?” Ginny chortled.

“Absolutely,” Severus said silkily. “And she’s scheduled an appointment for the pair of you Saturday afternoon.”

“Ha, ha.” Ginny made a face at him, but he still looked delighted. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

“This may be better than handing out detentions!” Severus said gleefully.

“As long as you know the Ukrainian Waltz and something called the Bigby Shuffle you’ll do fine.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Merlin’s Beard, what is this? 1932?” Ginny made a face. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Miss Lovegood may be able to avoid her wrath, but if Harry is cleared and taking you as a partner, you’re going to be expected to perform better than the rest of us.” Severus smirked.

“Harry can’t go!” Hermione squeaked. “He’s in prison!”

“But he’s still a hero in the eyes of the people,” Severus said bitterly. “He’s cooperative, unarmed, and would be in a place with the best security on the planet. They’ll find a way to get him there.”

“Because that doesn’t sound like a recipe for disaster,” Hermione said sarcastically.

“You remember the steps from Madam Jones’ Trotting Tots, don’t you?” Luna asked Ginny.

“Of course, I do.” Ginny began giggling. “She had us jumping about as soon as we could walk, didn’t she?”

“No way our mums could resist the little tutu’s she made for us.” Luna smiled serenely.

“You were in dance class?” Hermione burst out laughing at her friends.

“Oh, it was the thing to do fifteen years ago,” Luna explained. “They dropped us off for an hour and ran off to Diagon Alley to get their shopping done.”

“But we did learn all the traditional dances.” Ginny shrugged. “Even if we never went further than child classes.”

“Well, bully for you!” Severus crossed his arms and scowled.

“If you’re so worried about your shins, charm your pants next time,” Hermione said as if this were the obvious solution.

Severus gave her an irritated look, as if this had never occurred to him before.

“Listen, there are four of us. We can practice together and then the instructor will have less to complain about, won’t she?” Luna pointed out.

“I suppose so,” Hermione said slowly. “As long as we don’t pick up each other’s ‘bad habits.'”

“Oh, she’s one of those, is she?” Ginny groaned.

“Why would you think anything else? Luna asked.

“Because we’re a faraway land and berserk dance instructors aren’t supposed to exist.” Ginny said grumpily.

“You’re in Russia.” Severus said with a disapproving look. “You’re in the land of berserk dance instructors. Get over it and watch your shins.”

“I think she just has it out for you.” Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “What is it with you two?”

“She thinks I should have gone to the ballet instead of to Hogwarts. Considers it a colossal waste of time and talent.” Severus sighed as if trying to remain calm. “I was ten.”

“Well, I think you make a fine Potions instructor,” Luna said reassuringly. Severus began to relax and nod at her. “But I still think you should sing your lessons. It would make class far more interesting.”

Ginny and Hermione laughed as Severus scowled at Luna.

“I’m sure you’ll all do fine!” Anastasia swooped into the room. “Hermione, Madam Natasha was impressed you learn so quickly!”

Ginny snorted. “Tell us something we don’t already know.”

“The rest of you have appointments after dinner this evening.” Anastasia announced to a chorus of groans.

“You’re letting that woman back in the house after what she did to me?” Severus demanded.

“Yuri and Svetlana need lessons as well.” Anastasia made a face at her son. “You two will be in the spotlight, but the others need to know what they’re doing as well.”

“Well, I don’t want to look like a fool in front of the world,” Luna said firmly, folding her arms across her chest.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Anastasia assured her. “But we still have shopping for the pair of you!”

Luna looked mildly surprised, but Ginny blushed a deep red. “I—I’m not sure—”

“The Ministry will be paying for your costumes, of course,” Anastasia said haughtily. “Designers are already clamoring for your attentions. I have several brochures for you to look over. The owls have already started coming with them.”

“Oh!” Ginny breathed. “Really?”

“You should see the samples some of the jewelers have sent,” Anastasia said with a twinkle in her eye.

“I think your lives are about to change forever,” Severus said, tilting his chin down at Ginny. “The war was one thing, but this is the high-society aftermath and it’s about to get ugly.”

Chapter 42

“It’s been there for some time.” Asta frowned. “Decades, at least.”

“What are you talking about?” Snape asked snippily as he stared at the dagger planted into the statue in front of his quarters. “It can’t have been!”

“Put you hand on it, you daft boy!” Asta snipped.

Severus looked surprised, but said nothing.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” The tips of Asta’s hair turned blue.

“We’re all under a lot of stress.” McGonagall put her hand on the girl’s back, and she took a deep breath.

Severus hesitated before he put his hand on the statue in front of his quarters. He frowned. “It was charmed not to reveal itself until the caster died.”

“I’ll bet it was one of the men that died during the battle at the Ministry.” Asta shook her head. “Charms that have been in place for a long time tend to hang on, even after the caster is gone.”

“What about the darts?” Flitwick demanded in a high squeaky voice.

“Probably the same idea, if not the same person.” Asta shrugged. “It’s clear the castle is under attack, but who set the traps, we may never know.” She shook her head. “I’ll try to find and remove them, but I may need some help. Hogwarts is a big castle and there’s no telling if all the traps are inside. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t be blaming yourself,” McGonagall said firmly. “We don’t even know if it was all done by one person. Perhaps his first group of followers.”

“The Death Eaters weren’t his first group of followers,” Blaise snorted. “Just the first to get attention.”

They all looked at him and he looked uncomfortable. “My father told me his father practically groomed him to be a Death Eater. Not that he ever was.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Asta said automatically. “Your grandfather was killed at the Ministry, wasn’t he?”

“He was encapsulated and died when he fell to the ground. He was too old and frail to be fighting anything, let alone Jotun.” Blaise snorted. “We should ask Theo if he knows more than me.”

“I have a supply of Verita—”

“We are not going around dosing staff unless we have a firm suspect,” McGonagall said seriously. “And right now, none of our staff is under suspicion.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” Flitwick said darkly.

---

Severus entered the dining room in Russia and snickered as his eyes fell upon Hermione and her friends.

“Severus—”

“Mother, I swear it wasn’t me this time,” Severus said innocently.

“Like we haven’t heard that before,” his father said with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“The students insisted Asta be sorted since she is attending several classes.”

The girls looked at each other. “Ravenclaw,” they said as a whole.

“Hufflepuff.” Severus smirked.

“Ooh, she could use some friends,” Ginny said.

“She has a lot of friends with the Amazons.” Luna looked surprised.

“No. She has a lot of people telling her what to do because they will benefit.” Ginny picked at her bread. “She needs to be with people that don’t have an opinion.”

“Yet.” Hermione added. “Who don’t have an opinion yet.”

“Well, it will do her some good to get out of that stuffy tower, anyway,” Anastasia said as she waved her wand and a chair pulled itself out for her son.

“I’m just glad she’s someone else’s headache.” Severus snorted as he sat and swept his napkin over his lap.

“How do you figure?” Hermione asked curiously.

“When she was here, we were responsible for anything and everything that happened to her. At the castle she’ll be looked after as if she were a student.” Severus waved his wand and food magically began serving itself.

His mother slapped his wand hand and gave him an exasperated look. “None of that foolish wand waving at the table!”

The girls dissolved into giggles as he glared at them.

“The school did a good enough job looking after Harry.” Ginny hazarded. “I’m sure it’s fine for Asta. So far the only one that wants to get hold of her is her boyfriend.”

“She’s a grown woman; she shouldn’t need looking after at all.” Hermione frowned.

Severus paused before beginning to cut his meat. “There are rumblings about that. I have no idea what’s going on so don’t ask me.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“When you first met her, she was very child-like.” It was a statement and Hermione nodded in agreement. “Now she acts like a seventh year.”

“Sometimes older,” Hermione pointed out. “But she could just be very shy and as she gets more comfortable with us her personality comes out.”

“That’s not what I got from the gleam in her eye when she drank up our experiment,” Severus said with a quirked eyebrow as he picked up his fork. “She looked like Ronald at your first Hogwarts Feast, double fisting chicken legs.”

Hermione laughed at the memory. “I’ll give you that much.”

“I think she should be observed more,” Luna said as if she were fascinated. “Especially after the way she went after Mikhail. It was almost like she was triggered into burgeoning maturity.”

Anastasia looked impressed. “What a group of brilliant young ladies we have at our table! You’ll all be the talk of society!”

“They shouldn’t be worrying about primping and presentation when they could be studying or experimenting!” Severus snorted through his mouthful of food. “What a complete waste of time and energy! We’d be along further than we are if people paid as much attention to potions and spell work as they do those beauty rags I keep confiscating!”

“That’s going to lead to an eventual mutiny, you know.” Ginny took a mouthful of soup before she shook her head at him.

“You’d be better off giving them back to the offenders’ Head of Houses and let them take care of it instead of whatever you’re doing with them.” Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. “What are you doing with them?”

“Incinerating them,” Severus said coolly.

“Oh, you’re going to get hexed for sure.” Hermione chuckled. “Those are expensive.”

“Then they should be tucked away in book bags during class.”

“If he gives them back to their Heads of Houses what does he do with the Slytherins?” Luna asked.

“No Slytherins would be caught doing such an inappropriate thing—”

There was a unified snort from all the females at the table.

“Well, there isn’t any evidence of it, at least,” Severus said grumpily.

“They’re still using the bubble charm under their desks,” Ginny said coolly. “Scrambles up regular magic scans.”

Severus worked his jaw before beginning to eat, ignoring her.

“Is he always like this?” Anastasia asked.

“Worse.” The girls echoed as a whole. Severus threw them a dirty look.

“So, what about this Asta?” Jacob asked curiously. “She’s been sorted, but she’s not a student?”

“They’re acting like she’s a consultant.” Severus shrugged. “I know she’s been sitting in on some Herbology and Transfigurations classes so she’s learning something while she’s there, at least.”

“Is she sleeping in the Hufflepuff common room?” Ginny scrunched her face up.

“She’s got more freedom than that, although there’s no Floo hook-up in her room. The Amazons thought it best,” Severus said flatly.

“That’s just ridiculous!” Hermione blurted out. “She’s a grown woman!”

“But she might not be! We just don’t know, and our Care of Magical Creatures teacher is Hagrid.” Severus hissed. “Need I say more?”

“There’s got to be some way of finding out,” Luna said dreamily. “They must have measured her growth from the time she appeared. There’s something to start on.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “That does seem like something they would do. She certainly is acting like a moody teenager.”

“I think this young lady should do what she wants.” Anastasia said with a note of finality.

“You’re going to have to get the Amazons to agree with that.” Severus snorted.

“I don’t think so,” Anastasia said in a strangely high voice.

Severus was silent while he appraised his mother. “I don’t want to know.”

“Probably better if you don’t.” Jacob snorted. “Probably better if none of us do.”

“Do you need help?” Hermione asked.

Severus groaned. “I think your friend in the dungeon will need you soon. You might want to keep yourself free.”

“What’s going on with Harry?” Ginny asked quickly.

“The Ministry is reopening some old Muggle murder cases because of something they found, that’s all I know. I don’t know more than that.”

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out.

“Veritaserum works both ways, you know,” Ginny said in a low voice.

“Don’t you go dipping into my stores!” Severus looked flustered.

“She has her own, now,” Hermione snorted. “But we’re not going to start dosing each other for spite. Knock it off. Both of you.”

“Thinks must be getting exciting at Hogwarts,” Luna said thoughtfully. “Halloween is coming up.”

“They’re trying to keep things low-key under the circumstances,” Severus said with a shrug.

“I don’t see why.” Ginny shrugged. “No one’s actively setting off traps and decorations might catch things like those darts before they reach people.”

“Or set them off while decorations are set in place.” Severus raised his eyebrows at the food on his plate. “I’d hate to see a petrified person fall off a ladder.”

Hermione winced. “I thought you said most of the students were using those body-armor charms.”

“They are, for the most part. The fifth years were eager to learn more about self-protection so Professor Flitwick had them make a store for the school.”

“Then why do some people not have them?” Hermione asked with a frown.

“Several of the Slytherins believe they are immune—”

“Seriously?” Hermione gave him an exasperated look. “After everything?”

Severus shrugged. “You underestimate Slytherin stubbornness.”

“See them get poked with a dart and pop out in boils. Then we’ll see who’s immune.” Ginny was darkly amused.

“Thankfully, it looks like most of the spells were sixth year-level.” Severus took a bite of a dinner roll. “Some of them were quite crude, as if the person was flustered or afraid of getting caught.”

“Wait, could it have been someone you knew?” Ginny turned to look at him.

“I know you see me as a social butterfly, Miss Weasley, but believe it or not I didn’t know every Death Eater at Hogwarts,” Severus said sarcastically.

“Mrs. Potter,” Luna and Hermione said in unison. Severus rolled his eyes.

“Have you any word from the Ministry, dear?” Anastasia asked Ginny.

“Nothing from them, but I did get an owl from Kingsley that sounded promising. They’re going to try something this weekend that might break at least part of the curse.” Ginny admitted.

“What is it?” Severus looked suspicious and Jacob’s ears pricked up.

“Something about trying to remove some of the magical shrapnel.” Ginny scrunched up her face and shrugged.

“I’d like to look that letter, if I may. I was always a dabbler in experimental magic.” Jacob looked interested.

“No, you may not!” Anastasia frowned at him. “Last time you destroyed three rooms and I had to have everything redecorated!”

“Oh, heaven forbid!” Jacob put his hand over his heart. “I’m sure you hated that!”

“You could have died!” Anastasia fumed.

“I was fine!” Jacob pooh-poohed her.

“Experimental magic is more dangerous than you think,” Luna said wistfully. “My mother blew herself to bits. Well, ground herself down to sand, actually.”

Hermione turned green as Jacob and Anastasia looked surprised.

“That could just be a transfiguration gone wrong!” Jacob pointed out. “I hope you kept all the sand!”

“After I saw my first thestral father finally admitted she really was gone. He had her made into a ring.” Luna said dreamily.

“What!” Hermione squeaked.

“There’s a wizard in Hungary that does it. You send him remains and he heats them and there’s some spells he layers on top of it. It’s really very clever.” Luna nodded. “She’s a diamond now. Quite pretty, but father says she was more beautiful when she was alive.”

“Amazing.” Jacob said as he nodded his head. “The clever things they’re doing now.”

“I’m not having any more experimental magic in this house unless someone oversees you!” Anastasia looked at him crossly. “I don’t care if I get a pretty, new ring. And someone official! Not just Severus or the girls!”

“What about Pieter or Anna?” Jacob suggested. “They both excel at experimental magic!”

“If you leave their children orphans, I will murder you in your sleep,” Anastasia said coolly.

“How about he just sits in with the Amazons when they come to tutor the girls?” Hermione suggested.

“Aren’t you one of us?” Ginny asked sarcastically.

“I’m out of Hogwarts. While the extra learning is amazing, I’m not being graded.” Hermione pointed out.

“We’re being graded!” Ginny sqwalked.

“Well, of course you are, dear,” Anastasia said as she passed Severus a bowl of small potatoes. “Since the Amazons are working with the Ministry, they’re close enough to make sure you’re getting at least as much as you were from Hogwarts. It would be a shame to have an incomplete seventh year.”

Ginny goggled at Hermione.

“Don’t look at me! I had to finish the year with all that marriage nonsense!” Hermione squeaked.

Severus chuckled at the sight of his mother’s expression.

“But it was your decision!” Anastasia blustered. “The two of you!”

Hermione blinked. Then she looked at her husband. “You didn’t tell her!”

Severus winced and Ginny and Luna brightened.

“Tell me what?” Anastasia snapped, glaring at her son.

“I was really petitioned for,” Hermione said hesitantly. “I had no idea. We didn’t even like each other. It was the only way they could protect me from the Death Eaters.”

“And you didn’t know?” Anastasia looked horrified.

“Not until the scroll arrived the morning of the ceremony.” Hermione winced.

Anastasia went pale and began to fan herself.

“And after a summer, you got her?” Jacob nodded at his son with an impressed look.

“When did the falling in love happen?” Anastasia asked weakly.

“When they saw Faust!” Ginny piped up. She batted her eyelashes dramatically.

Anastasia swooned as Jacob burst out laughing.

“How romantic!” She breathed.

Severus grumbled at his father who only laughed harder.

“What if things hadn’t worked out?” Anastasia asked.

“We’d have gotten it annulled.” Hermione shrugged.

“No wonder your father was so upset.” Jacob mused as he looked at Severus thoughtfully.

Luna snorted. “There was never any doubt. They even had a betting pool.”

Jacob roared until tears fell from his eyes. “Master of your own destiny? I’d say you’re just along for the ride, my son!”

“Don’t worry,” Anastasia said, patting her husband on the shoulder. “So is he.”

Chapter 43

Asta hurried down a hallway, two Hogwarts’ students trailing after her.

“What if you’re wrong?” A girl with light red hair in a long braid held a stack of books to her chest as she hurried along.

“What if I’m right?” Asta said in a panicked voice.

“If you’re right then we’ve cracked the pattern,” the other girl said helpfully. She had narrow eyes, high cheekbones, and dusty brown hair in a pixie cut.

Asta pulled a door open and Snape’s booming voice stopped lecturing his students faded. “May I help you?”

“You’re about to do a Juniper Tonic?” Asta asked.

“You may sit in if you like,” Severus said in a low growl.

“Are you using berries from the UK or the continent?” Asta asked quickly.

“The imported berries were reduced, but I hardly—”

“Everybody out!” Asta said in a panicked voice. “Move it!” She looked at Severus. “You too!”

“What is the meaning of this?” Severus thundered as the students fled the classroom.

“I need to search your classroom. Now,” Asta said seriously.

“Have you found a pattern?” Severus frowned and tried to ignore the two lingering Hufflepuffs.

“It was in a book in the Restricted Section,” the red-haired girl nodded furiously. “It doesn’t tell you how to preform spells. It’s why it was overlooked.”

“What is it?” Severus’ eyes narrowed.

“The Memoirs of Luken the Awful,” the girl with the pixie cut piped up. “I was reading it for a Defense Against the Dark Arts project.”

“And what did you find?” Severus asked, his voice low.

“The order the spells have been going off. They’re in the same order as the ones that are listed in this book.” The red-haired girl said quickly.

“I hardly think—”

“And the page numbers correspond with the rooms the traps are in. It doesn’t count by level, it counts by columns. All the rooms are stacked perfectly on top of each other. You start with third level of the dungeons because that was as far down as the classrooms went in the seventies.” Asta added. “It should be an Iotikos spell. The chemical characters from the berries from the continent are different than the ones from here. “It might not go off, but I’d really like to take a look before a poison gas kills us all.”

Severus stared at the trio of Hufflepuffs before crossing his arms. “Fine. I’ll be sure to let all the other students know who’s responsible for all the extra work they’ll have to do in order to catch up on lost class time.”

“You can thank me later,” Asta said sarcastically as he stormed from the room.

---

“What exactly are we looking at?” Dumbledore looked at Asta over his steepled fingers.

“There are thirty-two more spells listed in the book, but I don’t think he got that far.” Asta screwed up her face.

“How can you say that with any certainty?” McGonagall frowned, the brim of her hat dipping.

“Because the last spell would be in here and we’ve searched it top to bottom. Everything seems right.” Asta tilted her head.

“He’s got a whole cabinet of experimental doo-dads back there!” Flitwick squeaked. “He doesn’t know what a fraction of them do!”

“In a cabinet so well guarded an atomic bomb could go off in it the worse that would happen is that it might creak quietly!” Asta seemed flustered.

“The next to the last is clear as well.” The girl with the pixie cut said with a huff.

“You went looking at it without anyone else?” Asta squeaked. “Don’t do that again!”

“There wasn’t anything there. Literally. It was an empty classroom with a bunch of broken chairs piled up against one wall.” The girl with the braid shrugged.

Dumbledore exchanged looks with his staff.

“Is there something I’m missing?” Asta asked.

“That would be the old Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom,” Severus hissed. “We’d always blamed it on a scared pupil and wild magic. I told you something wasn’t right, Dumbledore.”

“Did the floor come alive to devour the children?” Asta asked huffily.

“No, it didn’t,” McGonagall said reassuringly.

“Then it wasn’t trapped by this guy.” Asta shook her head.

“Well, that’s some relief, at least,” said Professor Sprout, who had been quiet up until now. “I know my classrooms are fine. They were built about a decade ago.”

“I’m glad to her we have one less thing to worry about.” Dumbledore beamed. “We’ll cancel classes for the rest of the day and ban the students from the classrooms. “I’ll summon some Aurors and we can have everything sorted out by Monday. Good job, ladies! Fifty points to Hufflepuff! Each!”

The girls gasped before they squeaked with repressed joy. They thanked everyone profusely before making their way out, leaving the Heads of House alone in the office.

“Don’t you think that was excessive, Headmaster?” Severus asked, visibly annoyed.

“Oh, stuff it, Severus!” Professor Sprout said happily. “The school will be safe by Monday. Hopefully this means the last remnant of the Death Eaters will be purged from the castle.”

“I applaud your enthusiasm, Professor Sprout,” Dumbledore said as he sat up straight before standing. “But I don’t think it will be that easy to rid ourselves of nearly a hundred years of contamination.”

Halloween

“Are you sure this is what you want, dear?” Anastasia looked at the trio of girls worriedly.

“I’m sure, Mrs. Snape,” Ginny said firmly as she hugged Hermione and Luna. “I’d rather be closer to Harry right now.”

“Of course, you would, dear,” Anastasia said. “But are you sure it’s safe?”

“As safe as Hogwarts ever is.” Ginny snorted. “Plus, I have some of the best anti-curse jewelry you can get thanks to the Amazons.”

“Nyssa was really disappointed when she heard you were going back,” Luna said dreamily. “She said you had a lot of promise.”

Ginny laughed. “She’d say anything to keep us away from Hogwarts—”

“And men in general,” Hermione said grumpily.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back, Luna?” Ginny asked. “I mean, Hermione’s finished and all, but you still have a year to go.”

“I think I’m a better fit with the Amazons.” Luna wrinkled her nose. “They know far more about rare magical creatures than Hogwarts does.”

“I bet they do.” Ginny agreed as they hugged. “I’ll miss you all.”

“Don’t forget to owl us often.” Hermione reminded her. “We want to know what’s going on with Harry.”

Ginny promised she would as she forced herself to smile when she backed into the fireplace.

Green flames leaped up and she was gone.

Luna and Hermione exchanged looks.

“What do you really think?” Luna asked Hermione.

“I think they should have consummated their marriage. The Ministry can say it’s a sham and dissolve it.” Hermione brooded.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, if I were you.” Anastasia sniffed. “Severus might be a pain at the best of times, but he has been raised right. He will see it done.”

“How do you know?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

Anastasia settled into the type of grin that made Hermione and Luna suspicious.

“What did you do?” Hermione demanded.

“I threatened to disconnect the Floo from the international network, so he’ll have to transfer all over again to get here.” Anastasia sighed.

Hermione’s jaw dropped as Luna started laughing.

“What?” Anastasia huffed.

“Well, it’s nice to know where he got it from!” Hermione said snippily. Jacob’s deep laugh came in from the direction of the dining room. She took it as an agreement.

Anastasia beamed as she kissed both girls on their cheeks and ran off to find her husband.

“You know,” Luna pointed out. “If Severus got his mother’s temperament this could be what he’s going to be like later in life.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “God help us all.”

---

“It must be good to be back.” Asta and Ginny walked down a corridor at Hogwarts. Classes were over for the day and they had decided to go down to the lake to go over their Transfiguration notes.

“It is,” Ginny admitted, but she felt guilty. “I think my parents would rather have me back at the estate.”

“The castle is safe now,” Asta reassured her. “I’m sure your father read the report Dumbledore sent off to the Ministry.”

“I know,” Ginny sighed. “But it’s hard knowing Harry is down in the dungeons and I can’t go see him.”

“At least you’re in the same building,” Asta said grumpily.

“Well, you’re getting owls pretty regularly now that Mikhail doesn’t have to worry about the Amazons making a fuss over them,” Ginny pointed out.

“True,” Asta admitted. “He sent me a book on the Great War. The Brotherhood’s version.”

Ginny chuckled. “I bet the Amazons would have a fit about that.”

Asta shrugged. “It’s as biased as the Amazons. I’m fairly certain no one will ever know the truth.”

“How do you know it’s biased?” Ginny asked curiously.

“The words taste sour,” Asta said, as if this made any sense.

“Hey, wait up!”

Ginny and Asta turned around to see the girl with the pixie cut followed by the red-haired girl.

“Ginny, this is Cat and Sarah. They’re sixth years.” Asta introduced them.

“You’re the ones that figured out the trap pattern!” Ginny said as she gave them an impressed look.

“Sarah did it, really,” the girl with the pixie cut said. “I just figured out how to disarm them.”

“Still,” Ginny said hesitantly. “Thanks. I wouldn’t have been able to come back if they were still going off.”

They made their way outside and winced at the bright sunlight. A chill wind swept by and they held their robes tighter as they hurried down to the shoreline.

Ginny began spinning small funnels of water out of the lake. She wiggled her wand and it began to take the rough shape of a bird.

“I know it’s not a Hogwarts’ event, but will you be going to the Ministry Ball?” Sarah asked Asta.

“I don’t know,” Asta admitted. “I know if I’ll be included if the Amazons decide to send representation, but if they don’t—”

“Then we’ll just have to get you in some other way,” Cat said firmly.

They ducked as water in the shape of a bird flew over them; fat drops of water raining down on them whenever it flapped.

---

McGonagall beamed at Dumbledore as she walked to the head table in the Great Hall. Candy bats swooped over the tables and students grabbed at them when they came near. The suspended candles were set into jack o’ lanterns and it gave the room a warm, orange glow. Laughter and the smell of good food filled the air. Hogwarts was back to normal.

She took her seat and giggled at Severus’ expression as a jellied spider strode by and threw a legful of edible glitter onto his food.

“Oh, just let it go for once, Severus,” she told him. “It finally feels like everything is back to normal.”

“You can finally let loose!” Professor Sprout said in a jolly voice. Her cheeks were so pink Severus assumed she’d already gotten into the sherry. “Whatever will you do now that there’s nothing to worry about?”

“I’ll remind you that you said that last time.” Severus sniffed as he poked at a glittery piece of meat.

She sighed as if he were a lost cause.

“Things are closer to normal,” McGonagall pointed out. “If you even remember what normal was like.”

Severus barked out a laugh. “Barely.”

“Dumbledore wants to see you later,” she said in a low voice. “Something about loose ends. He said I shouldn’t worry myself, but you know how he is.”

Severus nodded. Things are never normal again if you knew too much, but McGonagall was right. It was close.

---

Ginny whisked Harry’s invisibility cloak over her shoulders as she hurried down a hallway of the castle. She stopped suddenly and held her breath as she heard voices, but they grew fainter as the owners went in another direction. Almost everyone was at the Halloween Feast or on their way. With everyone gathered in an excited crowd Ginny hoped no one would notice she was missing. She knew her worry would be gone once she got to her goal.

She let out her breath and continued down another flight of stairs. She turned down hallways until she saw a large, heavy door. It was cracked open and a sliver of light spilled out.

She opened it and smiled as her eyes fell on Harry. His face was bandaged and there were several marks on his body that looked as if they were healing.

“How are you doing?” she asked softly.

The lock clicked as she pushed the door shut behind her,

---

Dumbledore strode down a long stone hallway with a spring in his step and a grin on his face. As he got closer to his goal a faint banging sound got louder. His pace quickened as he pulled 0ut his wand and ran to the reinforced door that led to Harry’s cell.

The door swung open and Dumbledore’s eyes met Harry’s. His bandages had been removed and his wounds still looked fragile and tender. The scar that had covered his forehead and then his face was gone, but the strange serpentine eyes remained.

“I don’t know! I don’t know what happened, I swear!”

With a wave of his wand he opened the cell and went to the prone figure of Ginny Weasley, her body covered with a sheet and lying motionless in Harry’s bed.

Chapter 45

Harry sat sobbing in the waiting room of St. Mungo’s, Molly’s arm around his shoulders, when Hermione walked in.

She looked at Arthur, who was watching them helplessly. “What do they know?”

“They caught it before it burrowed into her system permanently. Experimental surgery.” Arthur’s voice sounded hollow.

“I know it’s not the right time to bring it up, but I’m guessing the tests they did on Harry came up negative?” Hermione hazarded.

Harry barked out a laugh and sniffled. “The curse fractured and I shot it straight into her. I am so stupid.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake Harry, stop it!” Hermione ordered him as she ignored his words and transfigured a magazine into a box of tissues. “No one could have known! Not even the best wizards and witches of our time knew what was going on! They knew there was a scrap, but how were they to know it was transferrable?”

“I should never have touched her.” Harry’s face began to screw up again. “Never gone near her. I am so stupid.”

“Will you stop saying that? What if someone comes out here with important information and you’re falling to pieces? She is your wife. She needs you. Stop it!” Hermione looked furious with him. “And where’s Ron?”

“He’s handling the media. Doing a crack job of it, too.” Arthur smiled as he sighed.

“Good.” Hermione said.

“You know how much he’s rubbing off on you, don’t you?” Harry smirked at Hermione as he blew his nose. For the first time she could truly see his eyes and she breathed in as the brilliant green she was used to looked at her behind fogged frames.

“Harry, your eyes—”

“I know.”

---

“How long did they say she’d be out for?” Neville pushed aside a pile of letters so Hermione could set down takeout containers. The letters were still coming into Grimmauld Place, but Ron had been working hard on press releases, so Harry didn’t have to keep stating the same things over and over. Most of the letters were tied into neat bundles according to subject.

“A couple days.” Hermione shrugged. “Maybe more. How long until the Ministry lets Ron go?”

“About an hour.” Neville grinned. “That reporter should never have accused Ron of the Weasleys using their daughter to get closer to Harry.”

“I didn’t think he had it in him.” Hermione chuckled.

“I’m sure the reporters’ jaw is fine. They took him straight to the hospital.” Neville shrugged as he peered in a box. “At least Harry’s better. Wonky possessions gone wrong can be a lot worse. Some bloke took out a whole building in the 1700’s. Twelve families.”

“How do you know that?” Hermione asked.

“My long-ago grandfather had a brother charged with hunting him down after he fled. Kept a journal.” Neville pulled out something crispy and nibbled on it. “Is this cod? Anyway, there’s already precedent in the Ministry for this. He has a restriction spell cast on his wand and a charmed chain to wear around his neck so they can track him.”

“I thought it would be so much worse.” Hermione let out her breath.

“Harry’s a victim in this as well.” Neville pointed out. “His whole thought process wha-whosit was hijacked.”

“Ooh, so technical.” Hermione teased.

“Well, anyway, it falls under the same laws as people under the influence of Imperius. He’s not going to Azkaban.” He shrugged.

“Oh, the papers are going to love that,” Hermione said, her voice dripping with acid.

“They can love it all they want.” Neville snorted. “It’s the truth and it’s not going to change because someone wants a scandal that isn’t there.”

“Looks like Ron’s rubbing off on you.” Hermione grinned.

Neville laughed. “Seems like there’s an awful lot of rubbing off going on!”

Hermione burst out laughing as green flames leapt up in the fireplace. Ron walked through and his eyes fell on the food.

“Go ahead.” Hermione sighed. “You haven’t eaten in, what? A couple of hours? You’re probably wasting away.”

“You shut it,” Ron said grumpily, but he began picking at the containers.

“What’s with you?” Neville asked.

“They hit me with a huge fine and some of the reporters got pictures,” Ron said grumpily.

“Good.” Hermione said firmly, to everyone’s surprise. “Now you know what it’s like to be famous. Not all it’s cut out to be, is it?”

Ron scowled at her but said nothing. He knew she was still sore about that tiny Easter egg from his mum. “Is there any news about Ginny?”

“She’s still out,” Hermione said wearily.

“She should be coming around by now, shouldn’t she?” Neville asked.

“Oh, probably,” Ron said as he peered into the crisp bag. “I’m sure they’ll let us know what’s going on.”

---

Hermione tiptoed into the bedroom she shared with the other girls in Russia, but a curtain was pulled back and the room was flooded with light.

“Good grief, Luna!” Hermione spluttered as she staggered. “What are you doing in there?”

“Working on a permanent light spell.” The light faded and Luna lifted the dark goggles from her eyes. “Thought I’d have a fancy necklace, too.”

Hermione giggled and there was a groan from one of the other beds. “Is he sleeping in here?”

“He was waiting for you and reading, but he started snoring like an air raid siren about an hour ago.” Luna admitted.

“I heard that,” a sluggish voice called out. Another curtain was pulled to the side and Hermione saw her sleepy husband.

“Sleeping in the same room as a student?” Hermione said in mock horror. “The scandal.”

“We have a guard in the room and I’m officially under the care of the Amazons now.” Luna pointed out. “Father nearly fainted. Even he didn’t think they were real.”

“Ginny came around, but something’s not right. She’s a lot weaker than she should be.” Hermione screwed up her face.

“You can’t expect things to go according to plan.” Severus yawned. “For now, be happy. She’s alive.”

A chill went down Hermione’s spine, as if someone had walked over her grave.

‘Be happy’ for now, or ‘she’s alive’ for now?

Chapter 46

“So, when you found Potter, his eyes were still affected and then the effect faded to his normal appearance?” Kingsley rubbed his chin.

“I’m afraid so.” Dumbledore looked grim.

“Have any idea what it means?” Kingsley asked hopefully.

“Not a clue,” Dumbledore admitted.

“It could just be a residual?” McGonagall offered.

“I don’t think we could ever be that lucky when it comes to Voldemort.” Kingsley’s eyes darkened. “We thought we were safe last time, as well.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Dumbledore asked him.

“I think we should consult the Amazons and begin to seriously think about Plan D.” Kingsley looked glum.

“You can’t be serious—” McGonagall started, but she was cut off.

“We can’t let him sift through all of wizardkind, looking for a host,” Dumbledore said sharply.

“It’s not even a part of him, exactly.” Kingsley looked tired. “It’s like a fragment of what corrupted him.”

“Details.” McGonagall waved him off. “Whatever it is, it needs to go.”

“Which is why I think we need to—” Kingsley began.

“I don’t want to think of that for the time being.” Dumbledore said sharply.

“Well, we need to keep them apart, at least.” McGonagall nodded firmly. “I don’t care if they’re married, we can’t be running havoc every time they want to spend time together.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any arguments from Harry,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully. “At least not for now.”

---

“Oh, come on, Ginny,” Hermione pleaded. “It’s not forever!”

The curtain to Ginny’s bed in the Russian estate whipped aside. “How do you know that? We only just got started!”

Hermione put her hands on her hips and tried not to look shocked at Ginny’s appearance. “I know there are at least three more plans before they start looking for other options."

Ginny was pale, far more than her normal fair complexion, and her hair had gone several shades lighter. It was the consistency of straw, but Hermione guessed that could be fixed with a good scrub and loads of conditioner.

Nyssa looked concerned in spite of herself, and exchanged looks with Luna. “Busy hands calm a mind. You must come out.”

“Then what should we do?” Luna asked.

“We could start with a hair treatment.” Hermione shrugged as Ginny glared at her. “Well, it’s something practical to do. What else would you do?”

Ginny’s shoulders sagged. “I have no idea.”

---

“It was nice they let you come home,” Neville offered.

Harry snorted as he looked down at the magical ankle bracelet clamped around his leg.

“Better than nothing, mate,” Ron pointed out.

“And at least you look normal now,” Hermione added.

“Even need my glasses again.” Harry sighed.

“It could have been so much worse, Harry.” Hermione shook her head. “Ginny’s back at the estate for now. I know there’s talk of another plan, but I don’t know what it is.”

“I think I might,” Harry said sheepishly. “I was let in on the Amazon’s prophecy, wasn’t I?

“What does that have to do with anything?” Hermione asked cautiously.

“You may have to do some digging if what I think is true.” Harry screwed up his face.

“Like, research?” Neville asked. “What’s she supposed to research?”

“Atlantis and the Jotun.” Harry took a deep breath. “Voldemort knew some old rumors. The worlds used to be more connected in ancient days. There may have been an entryway to Jotunheim from Atlantis as well as from our world. Do you really think creatures of chaos would only have one door?”

Hermione was silent as she mulled this over. “Probably not.”

“Atlantis is long gone,” Neville said with a strange look on his face.

“Takes more than a typhoon/volcano/hurricane to destroy an artifact of the gods.” Harry said as he glanced at Hermione.

“What else do you know?” Hermione asked.

“The Brotherhood and the Amazons aren’t being entirely truthful about what they know,” Harry said seriously. “I’d like to call a meeting, but I have no idea how to do it.”

“I can find out.” Hermione shrugged. “I’ll probably see Dumbledore before you do.”

“I really didn’t want to send an owl.” Harry looked regretful. “It’s too sensitive.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Hermione and Ron both nodded.

---

They had been watching the purple flash making its way through the waters in the direction of the Amazonian tower for some time, and Alexandra couldn’t contain herself. She was grinning widely, much to Asta’s amusement.

“How do you even know what it is?” Asta asked, her arms folded across her chest.

“It has no ill-will readings at all, it’s in his favorite color, and the flashing coincides with mother’s favorite song. The brighter purples are high notes and the darker the color, the lower the note.” Alexandra said, as if the answer was obvious.

“You really are your father’s daughter.” Asta snorted. “Both daft.”

Alexandra giggled as she ran to a pole with a seat attached. She hopped on it and the floor opened beneath her and she began to slide down the length of the watch post, Asta right above her. They zipped through several floors and they joined up to other people who were descending to the ground floor. They all dismounted and Asta followed Alexandra to the door that led to the drawbridge.

It took a dozen Amazons to lower the bridge, but they were easy to find since the drawbridge was off the main hall. Several were cranky because they were at the end of their day, but they all complied, and the drawbridge was slowly lowered. Alexandra braced herself for the cold. Thankfully, it wasn’t windy. She tugged on the back of her toga and fabric fell out of the folds, giving her access to a cloak that had been warded against the cold.

Her eyes followed the light until it reached the side of the drawbridge. The water steamed in the frigid air as a pure white shark made of ice rose to the surface, a glowing scroll case strapped to its dorsal fin.

She retrieved it and the shark continued to rise out of the water and onto the drawbridge. It transfigured itself into a crystal clear dove that cooed at Alexandra.

It fluttered up to her and she cradled it under her cloak as she walked back to the Tower.

---

Misha Titov was chasing his sister, Nadja, around the kitchen table when a giant black owl with glowing red eyes flew through the window and landed on a large perch. Pieter looked up from his newspaper and at the beast that was glaring at him. The children were staring at it in awe.

Pieter snorted as he got up from his seat to retrieve the letter it was carrying. “Always with the dramatics, Nikolai?”

As he opened the envelope the owl took flight and soared out, the children watching it with wide eyes as it went.

“What was that?” Misha asked quietly.

“A common owl with a charm on it,” Pieter told his son. “In a few years you will be able to make your own fantastic transfigurations.”

“And me too!” Nadja exclaimed.

“A few years after Misha, you too!” He smiled as he scanned the letter. He sighed as he closed it. “I’m afraid that silly Nicolai is having another one of his fits. I will have to leave you at your Auntie Stacy’s this afternoon.”

“Yay!” the children exclaimed.

“Well, I am so sad that you will miss me so!” he said dramatically as they giggled. “I don’t know how I will make it through!”

“We’ll save you cake!” Misha cheered.

“I think that will do fine.” Pieter beamed at his children. “We shall have a welcome home feast!”

Chapter 47

“Does this frighten you?”

“No. It’s their reactions that may frighten me.”

Hermione put a hand on Harry’s back. “Well, you can’t make them wait forever.”

Harry took a deep breath and walked through a velvet curtain. They were in an underground cavern nestled deep in the earth, under the bedrock. The chairs and table grew out of the floor and small birds that looked like bright orange hummingbirds flitted around cooling the air with the flapping of their wings.

“I think you know why we’re all here.” Harry pulled a book out of his robes and let it fall on the table. Both Nyssa and Nicolai went pale as the others just looked at the book curiously. “It’s time for you to talk.”

“What do you want to know?” Nyssa asked furtively.

“Why you’ve been withholding information.” Harry was furious.

“We weren’t withholding information,” Nicolai said in a tired voice.

“Something like this happened before.” Harry said, his voice shaking with rage. “It was the reason for your war, wasn’t it?”

“We don’t know for sure—” Nyssa started.

Nicolai snorted loudly. “Maybe your records aren’t complete, but ours are.” He pushed out his chest proudly as if he had been solely responsible for recordkeeping for hundreds of years.

“It’s not that they aren’t complete,” Nyssa snapped at him. “But it comes down to the writer of the records, doesn’t it? How do you know what was exaggerated and what wasn’t?”

“We are not allowed to pick sides when the records are written,” Nicolai insisted, and it was Nyssa’s turn to snort.

“What is this book?” Mikhail asked curiously.

“The Origin Papers,” Nicolai said softly. “And both our sides were written down.

“We both have a copy, but I can only open the white cover and he the black,” Nyssa filled them in.

“How did you get a copy?” Nicolai asked.

“Dumbledore’s personal library.” Harry said hotly. “And I can open both sides.”

Everyone at the table gasped.

“What did you do?” Nyssa asked, her eyes wide and staring at the book.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked in a puzzled tone, his anger cooling quickly at this new mystery.

“In order to open the book, you have to have performed a ritual and have drunk a nasty potion.” Asta made a face.

“Unless…” Nicolai pursed his lips.

Nyssa narrowed her eyes at Harry. “Unless he’s tried to restore a balance.”

“Settle a score on a large level, as it were. For the universe.”

“Well, he did kill Voldemort,” Hermione said, pointing out the obvious.

“But did he strike at the man, or what made the man?” Nyssa asked curiously

“Both.” Harry turned pink. “I was enchanted.”

“Well, that changes everything!” Nicolai said, looking at Nyssa in wonderment.

“You’re the Page Turner,” Nyssa said in awe.

“What’s a page turner?” Harry asked, genuinely bewildered.

“There was a prophecy—”

“Oh, bloody hell! Not another one!” Harry groaned.

“You went for the problem both root and stem,” Nicolai explained patiently. “And you saved the universe.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“Voldemort wasn’t the only abused child out there,” Nyssa said ominously. “And you saved whoever it was from their abuser somehow. It must have been one of the men you killed. This child will be a changer of worlds.”

“But thankfully not a destroyer of them.” Nicolai nodded.

“But that’s not why we’re here, is it?” Asta asked. “It’s something in the book.”

“Ginny and I will continue to be feeble until the remedy is fetched from the Jotun. The door is in Atlantis. You know where it is. It’s how you asked them to join us. Oh, I’m sure you have some sort of alarm system,” Harry waved his hand. “But they’re not likely to come every time someone yells ‘eek!’ are they? You’d have had to send an ambassador for something with such little notice.”

“Two ambassadors, actually,” Nicolai squirmed. “We had to be in agreement for our plea to be heard.”

“That makes sense.” Hermione nodded. “It wouldn’t do to have them show up every time you had a row, would it?”

“How did you get there?” Harry asked them.

Now Hermione knew the reason for this meeting. They had a map and she had a key. They would have had to have knocked, but she didn’t.

It would have been nice of Harry to warn her, though.

“We took a boat—”

“I mean, how did you find it?”

“It’s never been lost!” Nyssa said frustrated.

“The island ceased to exist, it didn’t sink… exactly,” Nicolai tried to explain.

“What happened to it?” Hermione asked.

“A long time ago a volcano exploded and it created a land bridge to the continent,” Mikhail said, as if he were desperate to impress Asta with something. “The people on the continent saw the depravity on the island and invaded, scourging it of evil.”

“It was thought that they were wizards practicing out in the open.” Nyssa nodded.

“It was?” Mikhail and Hermione both asked.

“But there were no secrecy laws back then!” Harry exclaimed.

“Exactly.” Asta nodded sagely. “So, when wizards went bad, they went very bad.”

Hermione shivered. “The place we’re looking for is on land?”

“Oh no, it fell into the ocean again,” Nicolai said assuredly. “Earthquake eons ago. Underwater and in a cave carved into the side of a cliff.

“So, someone has to dive to it. That doesn’t sound too difficult.” Hermione folded her arms. “Unless there’s something else.”

“Well…” Nyssa faltered. “There are a couple trials just to make sure you aren’t there to cause mischief.”

“In Jotunheim? Are you serious?” Hermione laughed.

“You will be let in no matter what,” Asta said gravely. “And I should go as well.”

“That makes sense,” Hermione said before Nyssa could say anything. “It’s her native land, and I have a key.”

“So, how will we be represented?” Nicolai asked sharply.

“With me,” Mikhail said quietly. “I have to.”

The table went silent. Even Nicolai held his tongue.

“Err… why?” Harry finally asked.

“Because I have to meet her family,” Mikhail mumbled. “She has one. Other than the Amazons, I mean. It is our tradition.”

Nicolai took a deep breath and let it out, as if he were resigned to the situation. “We will also send Pieter—”

“You certainly will not!” Hermione barked out incredulously. “He’s the father of a newborn! His wife will kill him and come after you next.”

Nicolai blinked as if this had never crossed his mind.

“Sending Severus would be smarter,” Asta pointed out. “He’s the mate of the Keymaster.”

“If we did it that way there won’t be any trials,” Nyssa pointed out. “They all have a good reason for being there.”

“Severus will have to be joined,” Nicolai said stiffly.

“Let me talk to him,” Hermione said. “He’ll be reluctant at first.”

“Then I will happily leave the headache to you,” Nicolai said, looking satisfied for once.

“You’ll have to sell it as an excellent research opportunity,” Harry remarked.

“Now that’s something I can do.” Hermione smiled.

“Remind him that you’ll go without him,” Asta snickered.

“He’s doomed.”

Brotherhood Lunch

“You need me to do what?“

“Since I’m leaving on a journey, I got the sudden idea you’d like to join me,” Hermione said.

“I don’t understand why you need to go anyplace.” Severus snorted. “As you suggested, you aren’t the sole human being in the world that can be a Keyholder.”

“There’s no evidence they’re not Muggles.” Hermione pointed out. “They haven’t come across anymore.”

“How hard have they been looking?” Severus snapped. “I doubt anyone’s looked at all.”

“I’m not giving up the Shard,” Hermione said. “No matter who they come up with. It was passed to me, it’s mine.”

Severus wiped his face with his hand as if he were exhausted. She was apologetic for upsetting him, but this was necessary.

“And I have to take part in the Brotherhood to keep an eye on you?” Severus asked with a groan. “Mother will be over the moon.”

“My parents will be more supportive if you’re going,” Hermione said.

“You understand that you won?” Severus asked.

“Yes.”

He drew her onto his knee. “Ah, much better.”

“I bet.” She laughed.

He laid his head on her breasts and she put an arm around him. He sighed and Hermione held him. She had been through so much, and he so much more.

She wondered if it was reasonable to retire at twenty. Run off with Luna and follow whatever she was attempting to find evidence of this week.

---

“You are very handsome!”

Severus groaned to himself as his mother ran her fingers over his new robes for the Brotherhood, reaching up to give him a pat on his tall black hat. Hermione giggled and Jacob laughed at Severus’ helpless appearance.

Pieter came through the fireplace at the Snape Estate and looked upon in the sight before him. “We got you, Severus!”

“I demand that I get access to the potions journals in trade for my cooperation,” Severus grumbled as his mother picked a scrap of lint off his collar.

“Talk to Nicolai. He takes care of that.” Pieter’s smile broadened as he looked his cousin over. “The robes fit you well.”

“Thank you,” said Severus in a vexed tone.

“And soon we have lunch!” Severus’ mother called. “Everybody on the rear veranda!”

A rousing cheer went up as they broke into the light of day. The Snapes and the Titovs were there, along with Yuri and his daughter, and various faces Hermione didn’t recognize. They swarmed along the sides of a great dining table piled with Russian and British food, some of them dishes Hermione had never seen before.

Severus sat at the end of the table with Pieter on his right and Hermione on his left, Jacob sitting near Hermione, and a saved spot for Anastasia near Pieter. They were loading up their plates when Misha ran up with a girl with abundant flaxen hair that had been sitting near Yuri.

“I think the two troublemakers have run into each other.” Jacob commented.

“We need your hats.” Svetlana was more eloquent in English than Misha was, and far more aggressive.

“What for?” Pieter asked them.

“They bet us we wouldn’t be able to wear them at lunch.” Misha gestured to the table children assembled at.

“And what do you get if you win this game?” asked Severus.

“The bowl of custard and strawberry gelatin,” said Svetlana.

“The entire bowl?” Hermione glanced at the bowl on their end of the table. It was the size of a punch bowl and was decked out with colorful fruit.

“You don’t need the entire bowl,” Pieter told them. Their faces fell with disappointment. “Bring it back here to share with us!”

The children cheered as they picked up the tall hats from Pieter and Severus and ran back to their table, stumbling as the hats slipped over their faces.

“They’re indestructible,” Pieter assured everybody.

They dined together and basked in the sunlight. Hermione suspected the warmth surrounding the veranda was unnatural, but the sky was bright, and the flowers still clung to their petals.

She relaxed for the first time in weeks and savored the taste of her food. A hand fell on her knee under the table, and she looked up to see Severus smile at her.

She rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t shake him off and enjoyed his touch.

“—of course when the grandchildren come things will be different.” Anastasia’s statement rang out over the diners from the other end of the lengthy table. She was placing a salad in front of Yuri and stealing looks at Severus and Hermione.

Hermione stifled a giggle as Severus slapped his brow in annoyance.

“Wife, you stop that this instant and sit with us!” Jacob bellowed at her.

She waved off an old woman in a large white hat and took her appointed place. “I was only saying to the cousins—”

“Yes, we heard you,” Jacob sighed. “Less talking, more eating.”

She sniffed at him before studying at the table around her and serving herself. “I’m just saying it would be nice to hear the pitter-patter of feet around the house again.”

“The potions that keep you young make all of you young,” Hermione said in a careless tone that made Severus glance at her.

“Yes, we will get to play with them!” Anastasia said absentmindedly.

Realization dawned on Severus, and Jacob choked.

“I mean, your body is convinced you’re a young woman. Why don’t you have more of your own?” Hermione asked pleasantly.

Anastasia dropped her serving spoon, food splattering over the tablecloth. Jacob’s choking turned to amusement. Severus looked dismayed.

“We should!” Jacob exclaimed. Anastasia shot him a withering look, but he laughed harder. “We could make a dozen more!”

“Close your mouth!” Anastasia snapped at him. “You were no help with the first, you get no opinion!”

Jacob’s laughs turned to giggles as his wife whipped a napkin across the table at him.

“Fine!” Anastasia snorted. She looked at Severus. “You get settling in time!”

“We get how long we bloody well take!” Severus fumed as giggles started further down the table.

“You’re fortunate you live in England. You can escape her!” Yuri shouted.

“Mother, really! Must you pester everyone?” Severus asked exasperatedly.

“She does,” Jacob said earnestly.

Anastasia shot him another irritated look.

“I’m not even twenty!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Better to start at once before you get too old,” Anna said seriously. “You don’t want your first after thirty. It’s rough when you age.”

Hermione was silent. She recovered her voice when she saw Severus’ warning glare. She disregarded it. “I was feeling more around thirty-eight.”

“Thirty-eight!” Anna chuckled. “Your classmates will be grandparents by then!”

“No, they won’t!” Hermione blurted out.

Severus leaned over to her. “Many of your old associates are expecting. Eighteen and eighteen is thirty-six. You will be more than old enough for your peers to have grandchildren.”

Hermione blanched. “But I have things to do!”

“You got married!” The women around the table giggled. “You’re finished doing things!”

“Well, bugger that!” Hermione said, bristling. Her eyes turned to Severus. He held his palms up.

“If I never change a nappy, I’ll be a happy man!”

“Severus, you don’t mean that!” Anastasia insisted.

“Yes, I do. I look after a thousand of other people’s offspring. That’s plenty.” Severus said.

Anastasia sniffed. “You’re only being stubborn.”

Severus looked at Jacob, who looked in another direction.

“I promise you, I’m not.” Severus said firmly.

“Who will inherit?” Anastasia asked him, her arms crossed.

“Hermione, and then Yuri,” Severus said irritated. “Svetlana after that. Why are you acting like this is a revelation?”

“They’re cousins!” Anastasia hissed. “This family has plans, Severus, and they include you.”

Jacob grinned at Anastasia. “Who cares? Don’t we have enough for you, Stacie? We can make more!”

“So can we,” Pieter said with a wiggle to his eyebrows.

Anna snorted. “I was convinced this was the last one.”

“I forget how charming they are,” Pieter admitted. “Then I want more.”

Anna rolled her eyes.

“Let’s quit arguing about babies,” Jacob declared. “They have a mission to carry out first. They we’ll see.”

“Are you certain it has to be you on this secret mission?” Anastasia asked Hermione worriedly. “Can’t the Ministry send somebody else?”

“I don’t think anybody else can be counted on.” Hermione admitted. “We’re going to Atlantis to find a portal to Jotunheim so we can look for a cure for Harry and Ginny, and Asta is getting married if her family says it’s all right.”

“A wedding!” Anastasia exclaimed.

“All of that and all she heard was the part about the wedding.” Jacob elbowed Pieter, and they chortled.

Anastasia snorted. “And if they don’t, you come back. Get married here, and they don’t get to visit.”

“This marriage business has been illuminating for all of us, most of all that Jotun the Amazons have been harboring,” Pieter said.

Realization dawned on Severus, who had a sharp intake of breath. “They’ve always known how to get her home, haven’t they? They proved it when the Jotun answered the call.”

Pieter nodded. “They lied to her, to everyone.”

“Well, ‘they’re’ dead now and are most likely traitors to the Amazons for such a crime.”

“How is it a crime?” Pieter asked, sucking on a chicken bone.

“It’s kidnapping and imprisonment!” Anna kicked him under the table.

“Not if they left her behind on purpose. Who leaves a child behind when the portal to your world was going to be closed?” Severus said bitterly.

“The Amazons wanted to keep her safe,” Hermione reasoned.

“They wouldn’t have needed to if they let her go home!” Pieter chuckled.

“What if Asta didn’t want to go home, and they were preventing people from forcing her to go?” Mischa had sidled up to the table with a serving of custard and gelatin.

“What makes you say that, Darling?” Anna asked curiously.

“Well, when she came here she was my age?” Mischa asked.

“What does that have to do with it?”

“The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe?” Mischa asked disbelievingly.

The adults looked thoughtful.

“We’re the wardrobe?” Anastasia asked. Mischa nodded. “You’re a brilliant boy, Mischa Titov.”

“Will that change anything?” Hermione took the custard and Mischa skipped away.

“Who knows?” Pieter shrugged. “Love is a battleground.”

“No one else remembers back then, but I bet Asta does,” Hermione said.

“It would be helpful if the Jotun were briefed before you get there,” Anna said. “They were very polite when they came visiting.”

“You make it sound as if they came for tea,” Pieter laughed.

“While you were still sorting things out, before the door was sealed again, some of them did. That sweet fellow with a bloody mouth and snakes in his hair was fond of your personal blend. I let him take it back with him. He’s the one that brought you this Shard, yes?”

“What?!” Pieter choked.

“Since he had that horrible mouth infection, and it has a touch of birch bark—”

“Is that’s what was wrong with him?” Hermione asked. “It looked uncomfortable.”

“You know who she’s talking about?” Severus exclaimed.

“Well, it has to be Mithrax. He has snakes in his hair.” Hermione sighed. “Who else would it be?”

“What else goes on when we aren’t around?” Pieter asked curiously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Anna replied mysteriously.

Jacob snorted at Pieter. “I keep telling you, you’re better off not knowing.”

Chapter 49

“How much time do you have?” Neville Longbottom was sitting in his favorite chair near a window in number twelve Grimmauld Place. It was plump and purple and had little flowers dotted over it. He sipped at his cup of tea as he looked at Hermione.

“Not long enough,” Hermione groaned. “The stars have to be in the right position to open the portal in Atlantis once we find it. It’s going to be past Christmas by the time we leave.”

“Ball Season isn’t that bad.” Neville sat his cup down. “Gran used to drag me to the Opening Ceremony every year. The part where it’s a costume ball this year will make it better.”

“Is she dragging you this year?”

“This year I have a date, and I’m a dignitary in the Lord’s Procession. No one has to drag me,” he said proudly.

“Anyone I know?”

“Yup, but I’m not telling you.”

“Why not?”

“None of your business.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“How are the dancing lessons going?” he asked.

Hermione huffed, frustrated. “I have so much to do, it seems like a waste of time.”

“You realize this is more than a series of dances, don’t you?” Neville asked her as if she were dim. “Wizards don’t have the United Nations. This is as close as it gets. It’s a series of informal meetings between internationally important people in the spirit of magical cooperation.”

Hermione pouted. “They already warned me about the all the socialite hexing and the Minister of Magic from Liberia.”

“He got married last year.” Neville snickered. “He keeps his hands to himself now. She’s a terror.”

“Oh, good.” Hermione said, not realizing how relieved she was.

“If you had to hex him we’d stop you before it turned into an international incident.” Neville assured her. “There are protocols.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said, feeling better.

“You’d better prepare for the insults, though,” he said. “Snape’s a catch in some circles. Old family. Older money—”

“And then he runs off with one of his students, a girl with no money and no breeding.” Hermione finished for him.

“During a war,” Neville said, trying to diffuse what he said. “Unexpected and unconventional things happen during a war.”

“Is that what your Gran said?” Hermione asked with a grin.

Neville nodded.

“She knows who you’re taking, doesn’t she?” Hermione’s grin grew bigger.

“Yes!” Neville turned red.

“Is she happy about it?” Hermione asked, probing for details.

“Yes.” Now Neville’s cheeks were flaming.

“Are you going on about Alex again?” Ron snorted as he walked into the room and looked at Neville’s face. He ignored the other boy’s horrified expression as he walked over and helped himself to a handful of biscuits.

“Alex?” Hermione asked, a puzzled look on her face. “Wait, Alexandra?!” Neville turned purple, and she shrieked. “You’re going with Dumbledore’s daughter?!”

“She was on the market for what, three seconds?” Ron teased, as if this were common, but he still got a kick out of it. “They met at that fancy banquet for war heroes. You know, the one with the pudding—”

“I remember,” Hermione squeaked out, giggling at Neville who had grabbed a throw pillow and was trying to hide behind it. “Does he know?”

“I don’t know,” came Neville’s muffled reply. “He might kill me.”

“Doubt it.” Ron said as he stuffed a chocolate biscuit in his mouth. “She’s decades older than you.”

“He’s got a point,” Hermione said, trying to compose herself.

“That’s what Gran said,” Neville said, sounding miserable.

“You’ll be fine, Neville.” Ron picked up a teacup and filled it before gulping it down and taking a deep breath. “Lots of Amazons are going this time. They’re asking the Ministry for suitable escorts. It’s turning into a problem. The place they always hold it is too small.”

“It can’t be harder than choosing a location and preparing for the World Cup.” Hermione sat up in her chair.

“They prepare for that years ahead of time.”

“There’s more people to help.” Neville reasoned.

“The war’s barely over. Can’t trust anyone.” Ron shook his head.

“What are they going to do?” Hermione asked.

“Haven’t decided yet.” Ron admitted.

“Why aren’t the Amazons going with the Brotherhood?” Neville asked.

“Both sides are still fighting over Mikhail and Asta. Imagine what would happen if more of them ran off to get married?” Ron snorted.

“They wouldn’t be so xenophobic and some of their troubles might go away?” Hermione offered sarcastically. “Not to mention they’re not prisoners or slaves!”

“But they are citizens of a place that’s closed its borders.” Ron pointed out. “It’s not like they’re the first place that’s done it. There’s precedent for staying out of it.”

“But what if people want to leave?” Hermione asked.

“Where would they go?” Ron asked. “Who would take them? No one knows anything about them other than rumor.”

“Could they build another tower?” Neville asked.

“In the same way we could whip up another Hogwarts.” Ron shook his head. “In theory, sure.”

“Four people made Hogwarts,” Neville pointed out.

“But that was ages ago! Long before there were laws and classifications and rules about magic! You couldn’t build Hogwarts today, you’d be thrown in Azkaban!” Ron huffed.

“International waters and then move it,” Neville replied.

“We have to get them to agree on a pact first.” Hermione grumbled as she poured himself more tea.

“I’m not sure the Ministry would like that.” Ron frowned. “They’d be powerful and wouldn’t have to answer to anyone.”

“They’ll figure it out, Ron. It’s not all up to you.” Neville assured him.

“When did we get so involved in politics?” Ron groaned.

“When you decided to be friends with Harry Potter.” Neville snorted as he sipped at his teacup.

---

“Durmstrang?” Hermione was shocked.

“They were built on an abandoned goblin stronghold. Oodles of room, and protections all over the place.” Ginny nodded.

“When did you find this out?” Hermione asked.

“Just this morning. One of the second years has an aunt in Bulgaria, and it was in their newspapers this morning.” Ginny tossed a rock into the lake on the grounds of Hogwarts.

“Well, it will be interesting to see.” Hermione hazarded. “What does Harry think?”

“I don’t know yet.” Ginny admitted. “But I think something feels off.”

“Me too.” Hermione frowned. “We’re supposed to be in the Lord’s Processional.”

“In a school known for dark magic right after a war where the darker wizards lost. Brilliant.” Ginny huffed.

“I wonder what the Ministry’s angle is?” Hermione wondered.

“What do you mean?” Ginny asked her.

“They have to do tests and precautions of their own. Is it Durmstrang’s way of showing they’re hiding nothing?”

“It could be Durmstrang’s way of seeing if they’re booby-trapped like Hogwarts was,” Ginny pointed out. “Getting a second opinion?”

“She has a point.” Hermione and Ginny turned to see Asta and her two friends from Hufflepuff approaching.

“Hermione, this is Cat and Sarah. They’re going to the Opening Ceremony as well,” Asta explained.

“Oh, good. So, I’ll have backup when someone tries to kill me,” Hermione moaned.

“Only the Russians.” Sarah snorted. “And then just a handful of them. Snape’s bloodline is tainted, you see.”

“With what?” Hermione asked in bewilderment.

“Jewish on his father’s side. Gypsy on his mother’s,” Sara explained rudely. “No one’s told you this?”

“I didn’t think Muggle societal constructs effected the Wizarding World,” Hermione said. “No one’s ever said anything to Anthony, that I know of. That’s horrible.”

“Anthony Goldstein? But his bloodline is pure, isn’t it?” Cat pointed out. “No muddling about.”

“I—I don’t know,” admitted Hermione. “I don’t understand why any of this matters or how it works. It’s barbaric.”

“It matters because of the way magic reacts to bloodlines. Take the Blacks. They’ve always been talented in dark magic. Every one of them, even the good ones. That’s why they’re mainly Slytherins,” Asta pointed out. “Prewitts and Weasleys are talented in hedge-witchery. Home and hearth.”

“So, if I have children, what does that mean?” Hermione asked.

“With his line, there could be inherited talents in blood magic and potions. I’m surprised he isn’t a healer,” Sarah admitted.

“Your line isn’t clear, but—” Sarah hesitated.

“But what?” Hermione asked.

“The signs are pointing to something more celestial.”

Hermione’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh.”

“But wizards put a lot more stock in predictability and they breed based on it,” Cat said. “At least all the old families do.”

“Honestly, your kids will be completely unpredictable.” Asta sat down on a large flat rock near the shoreline. “But, they will have better access to schooling and different branches of learning than they did back when they came up with the rules. Your kids can be whatever they want to be.”

“Not always!” Sara protested. “Look at Seamus Finnegan! He can’t do anything water-based without it blowing up in his face!”

“That’s because he’s part-leprechaun and earth repels water,” Asta countered.

“He is?” Hermione asked.

“Can’t you smell it?” Asta asked.

“No,” Hermione said in surprise.

“Oh, well he does. Somewhere far back. It’s the only way you can tell. Well, that and the aversion to water.” Asta shrugged.

“You think you might want to tell him?!” Hermione exclaimed. “Or are you going to keep letting him blow things up?”

Asta looked unsettled. “You think he doesn’t know?”

“I’m sure he doesn’t, Asta!” Hermione said exasperatedly. “People move around a lot. Muggles had wars. He probably can’t even tell you who his great-great-great grandfather was without looking it up.”

“Oh.” The thought unsettled Asta.

“I mean, I wouldn’t walk into the Great Hall and pronounce his ancestors Boggle-breeders or anything, but you should tell him,” Cat said.

“What’s a Boggle-breeder?” Hermione asked curiously.

“It’s someone who exchanges— um—” Sarah faltered.

“Booty for bounty.” Cat explained. “All leprechauns are male, you know.”

“But leprechauns don’t look human!” Hermione exclaimed. “The offspring—”

“It’s where they live. The magic mutates them.” Sara interjected.

“If the leprechauns don’t claim their heirs the children grow up Out-world,” Cat added. “They’ll look like their fathers, but that breeds out in a generation or two.”

“Why didn’t we learn this in school?” Hermione mused.

“Is that something you think Hagrid is capable of teaching without dying of embarrassment on the spot?” Ginny asked her.

“That’s a good point.” Hermione muttered.

“The point is that if his half-breed ancestor wasn’t claimed it was because they had no magic in them.” Sarah explained. “That entered his bloodline later. It’s considered to be kind of embarrassing.”

“Seamus was Muggle-born, I’m sure he can take it,” Hermione said reassuringly. “Plus, he should be happy to know why his experiments aren’t working.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to take classes, Hermione?” Ginny asked. “We miss you. And they’re letting more people repeat years that got bungled up because of You-Know-Who. The Patil twins are re-registering.”

“I do want to come back as a student,” Hermione admitted. “I’ve thought about it, but Christmas is almost here and then I’m leaving on assignment. I don’t know if we’ll be gone a week or months. Anyway, most of my gaps are in Defense Against the Dark Arts and that’s hardly worth coming back for when I have a proficient teacher at my disposal.”

“Do you really have to go?” Cat asked curiously.

“I do,” Hermione said begrudgingly. “But it’s for a good cause. We’ll be going for Harry and Ginny.”

“Me?” Ginny asked confused. “Why?”

“Didn’t Harry tell you? We’re going for a cure to fix the two of you. It’s in the prophecy—well one of them, anyway!” Asta exclaimed. “we know you’ve both been weakened. The curse feeds off your magic.”

“Are you serious?” Ginny asked, looking at Hermione. “You could fix it? I still might be able to play for the Hornets?”

“First priority is always Quidditch,” Cat said seriuously.

“Harry should go with us, but the Ministry won’t approve it,” Hermione interjected. “They say he’s too unpredictable.”

“I agree,” Ginny said, looking alarmed. “And he’s not going anywhere without me!”

“And your mother would kill someone, your father knows this, which is why he said no,” Hermione said.

Ginny let out a sigh of relief and Asta reached over to give her a reassuring pat. “Married life isn’t about roses and smiles, it’s about loyalty and bravery.”

“Don’t I know it.” Ginny snorted.

Hermione found herself shaking her head. “Don’t we all.”

Book 3: The Finale

The higher chambers of the Amazonian Tower were originally designed as gathering places. The middle of the tower was ever-changing to the needs of its residents, but the top would always be a series of rooms carved out of ice with windows large enough to survey the surrounding area.

Tonight, the gathering was small and elite. The eldest and most knowledgeable Amazons were there. Most of them were frowning at each other over a long white table.

“She’s not a prisoner. It’s as simple as that.” Sophia frowned at Nyssa.

“But it’s obvious that she’s matured more in the last few weeks than in hundreds of years. We should be given time to study the changes!”

“Have you ever thought that when she comes back, she may know more about herself than you could discover in your lifetime?” A tall woman in red robes pointed out.

“If they let her come back.” A small woman with a hunch and a face like a dried apple spat out. “They may kill everyone and keep her. We don’t know.”

“And what if the contingency goes without her? What then?” Another woman with purple robes asked. “What excuses could they make?”

“You forget an important thing.” Alexandra reminded them. “Asta could have returned with them after the battle a thousand years ago, but she stayed. She could have gone back with them after the attack on the Ministry of Magic, and she stayed again. No one asked to take her back. She didn’t ask to leave.”

That silenced the women, but it was fleeting.

“What if it’s a trick?”

“How is it a trick?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t devise it!”

“We will send Nyssa with her.” An ancient crone with long white hair and robes said with a tone of finality.

“Me?” Nyssa squeaked.

“You know her best. You know our reasons for treating her the way she has been throughout the centuries. Assure them we’ve always had her best intentions in mind and ask questions. Get as many answers as you can, I don’t care how many men you must lie with to do it. Don’t remind me what their kind look like, I saw the Jotun for myself. Just get it done.”

The crone rose to her feet, her gnarled hands resting on an enormous white staff, and turned to leave, the others staring at her in shocked silence. They turned to look at Nyssa, but the color had left her face and her mind was whirling so fast she didn’t register their stares.

---

“No!” Nicolai roared. He slapped his hand on the ice table. “We shall not use dishonest means to gain intelligence against the Jotun.” His cheeks burned in anger.

“I’m sure that’s the only reason,” Pieter said under his breath. Harry and Hermione both bit back laughter while Severus furrowed his eyebrows at them.

There weren’t the usual group of soldiers guarding the floating meeting place the Amazons had constructed. Only a handful. It wasn’t a confidential meeting, but it was common ground for the trio of allies, and they were comfortable there. Most of them, at least.

“I only told you because we agreed to be transparent,” Nyssa said, her cheeks flushing.

“Thank you,” Severus said. “But I’m afraid we cannot condone such behavior.”

“She has no choice,” Asta chimed in. “She has orders.”

“Then I will not allow them to be carried out.” Nicolai folded his arms in front of his chest.

“You can try,” Hermione said under her breath. Severus kicked her under the table.

“Are you going to be joining us, Nicolai?” Hermione asked innocently.

“I will.” He drew himself up taller and tried to stare Nyssa down. “Mikhail needs a chaperone. I am the best choice.”

Nyssa waved a hand flippantly before she sat.

Hermione had to bite her lips and tried to hide her face with her hair by looking at the table.

“Let’s go over the plan again,” Pieter suggested, trying to change the subject.

“We meet at the Ministry of Magic and spend five nights in London being trained on how to use our gear,” Hermione offered. “Then we board ambassadorial magic carpets to get to France, where we will spend three nights. We will brief their Ministry and taking their advice. Then we will descend to the ruins of Atlantis and attempt to find the portal. If we can’t do that within three days, we must try again at the next moon.”

“If you succeed, you will enter the portal and it will either let you in, or present you with a series of trials,” Pieter added. “They know we’re coming. They wouldn’t have given you a key if they didn’t expect you to use it. We should expect either a diplomatic emissary or taken prisoner. Best and worst scenarios, I suppose.

“If the trials don’t kill us first,” Hermione pointed out.

“We have to survive Ball Season first,” Mikhail grumbled.

“It won’t be so bad,” Pieter assured him. “Most of us will be there. Even Nicolai.”

“I certainly will not!” Nicolai frowned.

“You certainly are. It’s been arranged.” Pieter smiled like a satisfied cat. “You even have a partner.”

“Ha!” Nyssa barked. “The poor thing!”

“The ‘poor thing’ is you,” Pieter said delightedly.

“It is not!” she exclaimed.

“It is,” Mikhail said, ducking prematurely. “The order came down after you left.”

“Well, perhaps I will take a youth potion or two and learn Amazon secrets,” Nicolai said haughtily. “Since that is acceptable behavior now.”

Nyssa snorted and tossed her head. “As if.”

“Right,” he said, glaring at her. “We shall see!”

---

“We will find them in a broom cupboard and have to peel them apart.” Pieter snickered as he sipped at his cup of tea. “Thank you, Stacie, I’m always chilled when we come from that meeting place.”

“It’s heated.” Severus pointed out.

“There’s something about it. All of that water and ice.” Pieter shivered.

“You don’t know how to swim, do you?” Hermione asked slyly.

“It has been a long time,” Pieter said abruptly. He drank deeply and set his tea down. “Thank you, but I must be going. Anna will be waiting for me.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, surprised.

He embraced everyone before throwing a handful of Floo powder in the fireplace and going.

“What did I say?” Hermione asked.

“Pieter doesn’t swim anymore because he almost drowned doing something for the Brotherhood. He hasn’t had the taste for water since,” Anastasia said worriedly. “He’s not angry at you.”

“Is that why he isn’t going with us?” Hermione asked.

“One reason. He recently had a son.” Severus pointed out.

“He has to care for a future member of the Brotherhood,” Hermione reasoned. “So, they’d make him go if it was a girl?”

“They couldn’t drag him down there,” Jacob interjected. “Not anymore. He’s too old.”

“It’s very sad. He used to be a good swimmer. Do you remember, Severus?” Anastasia asked as she waved her wand to tidy up the table.

“He was faster than anyone,” Severus agreed. “But after breathing in that cloud of pixie dust he never held his breath the same.”

“That’s right!” Anastasia exclaimed. “I’d forgotten about that!”

“Well, it’s good someone has,” Severus grumbled.

“No one blames you, Severus. It was all his fault, and he knows it.” Anastasia ‘tsked’ at him. “He was always lazy in potions.”

“I know, but you would have thought I’d noticed he was going to do,” Severus said glumly.

“Is that why you’re so hard on everybody?” Hermione blurted out as realization hit her.

Severus looked up, looking like he’d been caught doing something naughty.

“It raises standards—” he began sheepishly.

“It didn’t raise standards!” Hermione glared at him. “It made me everyone’s bloody babysitter!”

“Draco—”

“Don’t you give me that!” Hermione hissed. “You may have chided him in private, but you humiliated me every chance you got!”

“Severus!” Anastasia looked scandalized. “You apologize right now!”

“Mother—”

“Don’t you ‘mother’ me!” she fumed. “I have been hearing things about the way you behave when you are away from home!”

Jacob snorted as if this were an understatement.

“You need to watch yourself, young man!” Anastasia continued.

Severus looked bewildered. “Or what will happen, exactly?”

“I am not too old to beat sense into you!” Anastasia made for him, but Jacob caught her.

“This is a good time to slip upstairs.” Severus suggested.

“Good idea,” Jacob said as Anastasia squirmed and cursed at him in Russian.

He and Hermione slipped out and to their room upstairs, but she was still cross at him.

She got into bed naked as he was cleaning up in the bathroom, then she snuggled under the covers. She was nearly asleep when he slid into bed with her. She would have ignored him, but a hand covered in oil slide up her back.

“What are you doing?” She jumped, thinking of the sheets and mess.

“I will rub you until you’re convinced you need a happy ending,” he said boldly. “I will cherish we’re sleeping alone tonight.”

“I already have my happy ending.” Hermione said as she flipped onto her stomach and groaned as his hands found a knot under one of her shoulder blades. “You’re still in trouble.”

“I knew I’d be in trouble the rest of my life the minute I married you.” he snorted.

“Do you want to get remarried?” Hermione asked him suddenly.

“Your parents deserved better.”

“Should we do it over Christmas? When we’ll all be in France?” Hermione asked as she relaxed further.

He thought. “Yes.”

Hermione sighed and sunk further into the soft mattress. “I’d like to pick out my own dress this time.”

“I’m sure mother could help you with that. Are you ready for Ball Season?”

“Yes… well, sort of…”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“We have the dresses, but we’re trading them with each other.” Hermione groaned. “A little to the left.”

“Women,” Severus sighed teasingly as his hands changed position. “Always complicating things.”

“Well, we weren’t going as a group. When Luna and Ginny decided to go with us everything changed.”

“If the worst thing you have to worry about is a ball gown, I’m content.”

“And Harry.” Hermione added.

“You’ve been worried about Harry since before you met. I’m convinced that it’s your natural state.”

“Humph.”

She grinned as she rolled over and pulled him to her. His mouth met hers and his hands continued to slide all over her, her body oiling his.

Her fingers clawed at his back, but they slid around, trying to find purchase. She felt him push forward and fill her, and she gasped and held him close, her cheek against his.

He whispered sweet words into her ear, and didn’t take long to finish.

His arms went around her, and she relaxed, running her hands through his hair.

“We’ve been through worse than this.” Hermione reminded him.

“You don’t have to remind me.” Came his reply. “This is the least dangerous thing we’ve done.”

“Well, there’s a thought,” Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

“We have to keep an eye on Nyssa and Nicolai.”

“I know.”

“How long do you think it will take them?”

“Mundungus has odds 3-1 after the third dance.” Hermione sighed.

“How does he factor in?” Severus asked.

“He knows is that two squabbling people from opposing sides are being forced to be partners.”

“That’s all it took?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I’m starting to feel like the bet on our consummation was far less personal than we thought.”

“So, we’re letting him off the hook?”

“Not in a hundred years.”

Chapter 51

Ball Season was unavoidable.

Even with the primping and organizing, Hermione was still apprehensive.

Worried about hair frizzing, makeup running, strangulation by her magical masquerade costume…

A lot of bother happened because of Ball Season, and Hermione wasn’t certain it was worth it, no matter what Neville had to say.

But he had pleaded and claimed he may require backup.

She didn’t know what that meant, but staying home wasn’t an option.

Normally, a handful of young witches and wizards were admitted into genteel society, but this year there were witches and wizards with fresh titles by the dozen.

Ginny and Luna met Hermione at the Russian Estate to prepare for the ball with Severus’ mother. Their strategy had paid off, they were ready to go. Ginny was in red silk, Luna in white chiffon, and Hermione in brown taffeta.

---

“That is the most interesting necklace I’ve ever seen.”

A lanky older woman with golden hair and bright green eyes gaped at Luna’s necklace enviously.

“Thank you. They’re atomized pearls on spider silk.”

The woman looked astonished and leaned closer. She whipped out a pair of decorative spectacles on the end of an ornamented handle.

“The braiding was the hard part.” Luna admitted. “I only had to use two pearls.”

“You created it?” A plump, coral-haired woman in emerald green velvet lay a palm to her breast. “Rolf! Rolf, dear boy, come look at this!” Her enormous tiara shook alarmingly.

A gangly youth with black hair and freckles appeared. When his eyes fixed on Luna he blushed.

“The necklace is spider silk. Look how skillfully it’s woven! I thought of your project!” The tall woman spoke with a glimmer of playfulness in her eye.

The boy perked up and leaned in closer, the pretext of being shy cast away in the name of curiosity. “What weave is that?”

“I made it up,” Luna told him. “It had to be hazy, so I had to improvise.”

“That is…” he lifted a finger to pause while he found the words. “That may be the answer I’m looking for.”

“What’s the question?” She asked dreamily.

“I’m trying to catch an extremely powerful poltergeist. Been terrorizing the woodlands for over a century—I’m Rolf Scamander, by the way. From the USA. New Jersey.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luna replied. “I’m Luna Lovegood.”

“Have you ever heard of titanium spinning orbs?” He asked as he extended his arm.

“The African spider breeding program?” Luna asked as she accepted it. “I understood that they were still experimenting.”

He fluttered a hand dismissively. “That article in Monstrumologist Monthly was ages old! I think the writer walked back from Africa!”

“Well, Harold is prone to distraction.” Luna sighed.

“You know him?”

“He’s a cousin. The Phillywhits have always been scatterbrained. Their great-grandmother was tormented by devilkin moths.” Luna shook her head sadly.

They drifted off to the punch bowl and Ginny chuckled. “That didn’t take long.”

Fanfare sounded.

“Count Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy!” A slight fellow in a crimson coat and black hair cried out to the congregation of bodies.

A few people turned their backs. To his credit, Draco descended the staircase as if nothing were out of sorts.

Hermione held a hand up to wave.

“What are you playing at?” Ginny asked curiously.

“Blaise was my colleague. I’m not going to shun him and his companion.” Hermione said innocently.

“You’re so nosy.” Ginny accused.

“So what?” Hermione hissed before Blaise and Draco got within earshot. “Blaise! It’s so wonderful to see you! Hello!” She spoke too loudly.

“Laying it on thick?” Blaise asked her as they kissed cheeks and Ginny and Draco did the same for politeness’ sake.

“Draco was exonerated and disowned. That should be enough for everyone,” Hermione said with a huff. “Someone has to act civil.”

“How are you doing?” Ginny asked Draco seriously.

He looked as if he were going to answer flippantly, but then nodded and averted her gaze.

“Come on,” she said as she led him through the crowd, leaving Hermione with Blaise.

“Nice dress. What are you going to be? A giant chocolate cream puff?” Blaise asked her as he eyed up her brown gown.

“You’ll have to wait until midnight,” Hermione said mysteriously.

“I cannot believe you brought him with you!” A thin older woman with dark hair gripped Blaise’s forearm.

“He’s still family!” Blaise hissed.

“He’s not that close!” The woman grunted. Her tone dropped. “He murdered his own father!”

Hermione, who had not been privy to the minutiae of the battle and trials gasped.

The woman threw a look at her.

“Auntie Rosalind Zabini, this is Hermione Granger-Snape of the Russian-British Snapes,” Blaise said with a short bow.

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Hermione said as if she hadn’t heard the earlier discussion.

“And you as well, dear,” the woman said absent-mindedly. Any effect Blaise thought would come from the introduction was swept aside, and he looked annoyed. The woman turned back to Blaise. “I understand you have impeccable ideals about family obligations, but you may have gone too far this time.”

They peered over to Draco to see Luna introducing him to Rolf, who had no idea who the Malfoys were. The boys grinned at each other and Draco looked thankful.

“Oh, I’ll think he’ll do fine.” Hermione smiled.

Fanfare sounded again.

“Head Mugwump Albus Dumbledore and Lady Sophia of the Amazons!”

They turned to see Dumbledore and Sophia. Dressed in splendid purple and black dress robes he held her arm as she descended the stairs in pink and white shimmer.

“You look great!” Hermione said as they reached the foot of the stairs.

“Thank you, dear.” Sophia smiled at her and they kissed cheeks. “What’s that lovely smell?”

“The roses.” Hermione pointed to garlands strung high up on the arched ceiling. “They’re different from regular roses, though. They’re magically scented.”

“Albus, teach me flowers,” Sophia said in amazement.

“You should advise a year at Hogwarts,” Albus suggested, as if he had done it before.

She opened her mouth to respond and fanfare went off again.

“Count Nicolai Galkin of the Mystic Brotherhood and Lady Nyssa of the Amazons.”

The three of them turned. Hermione let out an altogether inappropriate noise.

Nyssa was seething. She gripped the hem of her red gown and stalked down the stairs.

On her arm was one of the handsomest men Hermione had ever seen. He was smirking.

Sophia swore in a language Hermione wasn’t acquainted with.

Nicolai swept around Nyssa and bowed as her slippered feet touched the floor. She threw him a glare. He waggled his eyebrows.

Sophia had to turn away, so Nyssa didn’t see her giggling. It didn’t work.

“He did it!” Hermione squeaked. “He found a youth serum!”

Nyssa stormed over to them as Nicolai raised his hand to greet someone else on the other side of the room and sauntered off.

“And what is so amusing?” Nyssa demanded.

“I don’t think we need to explain,” Sophia giggled.

“Who put him up to this?” Nyssa huffed.

“None of us,” Dumbledore assured her.

“Well, someone did.” Her eyes flashed around the chamber. She stomped away.

Sophia resumed giggling when Nyssa was out of earshot.

“Did you do this?” Albus asked.

“No, but I wish I had!” She had another fit of giggles as Nyssa grabbed the first Brotherhood member she could identify and whirled him around to terrorize him.

“I doubt he needed encouragement,” Hermione snorted.

Champagne was taken around and gentle music started, steadily swelling in volume.

The dance floor was cleared of standing people, and select couples took to the floor. Severus suddenly materialized by Hermione’s side.

“May I have this dance?” He inquired as his palm brushed her shoulder.

“I should hope so. That woman nearly broke my legs whacking them with that stick of hers.” Hermione scowled.

They took their positions and Hermione began counting when the music started.

And: one, two, three, left foot; one, two, right foot—

“You’re still abysmal,” Severus reminded her as they clapped and twirled around each other.

“I put levitation charms on my slippers,” she muttered. “Just keep hold of me.”

“Lord Neville Longbottom and the Lady Alexandra of the Amazons,” a musical voice called out.

“I expect they finally stopped with the fanfare, thank Merlin,” Severus snorted.

“I bet it will start up again when there isn’t dancing,” Hermione said as the dance ended.

There was no explosive reaction from Dumbledore and Sophia as they watched their daughter walk down the stairs.

“She looks so much like you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh, but she has your hair,” Sophia said proudly. She slid her arm around him and sniffled.

“Longbottom?!” Blaise Zabini exclaimed behind them.

Hermione chuckled despite herself.

Neville glanced at them cautiously as if expecting Dumbledore to run at him swinging.

Alexandra looked lovely in a dark green dress accented with glittering gold ornament. She waved one arm at a group of Amazons across the room. When they got to the bottom step, she kissed Neville and rushed off to join her friends, leaving him looking astonished.

Hermione, Blaise, and Draco laughed openly.

Dumbledore and Sophia still looked misty-eyed.

Neville stumbled over to them hesitantly.

“Well, that was smooth, Longbottom. I can understand why she thinks you’re irresistible,” Draco drawled.

Neville blushed crimson.

“Count Mikhail Korsakov of the Mystic Brotherhood and Princess Asta of Jodtunheim!”

“Princess?” Hermione blurted out.

“Interesting details have come to light,” Sophia said mysteriously.

They looked radiant. Asta in black and red, and Mikhail in white. They were smiling at each other so much it was a wonder they didn’t trip going down the stairs. She wore a gold ring with a massive pearl in it.

“Is that the Korsakov pearl?” A plump old woman gossiped to her friend who watched on with large eyes and nodded.

“What does that mean?” Hermione asked as Asta waved to her Hufflepuff friends and bustled over with Mikhail to introduce him.

“They are engaged,” Sophia said enthusiastically, clapping her hands. “Her family has granted permission! She found out this morning, and we have been invited to Atlantis for the celebration!”

Hermione exchanged glances with Severus.

“How did she find out?”

“There was a visitor this morning!”

This felt like an ambush.

But set up by whom? It was too elaborate for any known villains, and it couldn’t be Harry. Severus exchanged glances at Dumbledore.

The headmaster put a hand in his jacket pocket and fumbled before clapping again.

Neville dropped a hand into his pocket and turned white. He placed a hand on Hermione’s arm to steady her as she stepped back to make space for the happy couple. He held something in his palm and when she patted him on the hand, she accepted it from him.

She opened her pocketbook and pretended to look for a mint. She opened her hand and felt her stomach plummet.

It was one of her ancient DA coins.

Opening Ball Ceremonies

Hermione dropped the coin and handed Neville a mint. He thanked her as they exchanged nervous glances.

Alexa and Mikhail walked over to show off her ring.

“It’s enormous!” Hermione exclaimed.

“An envoy arrived this morning and he had the power to approve the match!” Asta said happily.

“An envoy?” Dumbledore sounded surprised.

“The esteemed Prince Mithrax Starfall of Jotunheim and Petra Petrova!”

Hermione looked up to see Mithrax with a pretty girl. He wore robes of gold and purple brocade, and his shiny black skin shone in the light. The serpents in his hair were calm and wearing little gold collars.

The dark-haired woman was in white and silver and smiling. Her hair was swept up and she wore glass slippers on her feet.

Mithrax’s eyes scanned the crowd until they found Asta. He tipped his chin at them before descending the stairs with his partner. Instead of taking her hand he swept her off the bottom step, twirled her, and set her gently upon the ground. People applauded as she turned red and breathless.

He smiled at her and Hermione saw white pointed teeth instead of a bloody maw.

“Lord Pieter Titov of the Mystic Brotherhood and Lady Anna of St. Petersburg!”

“Good to see you, Mithrax,” Dumbledore said as the Titov’s descended the staircase.

“You as well, Dumbledore,” Mithrax said in a received pronunciation dialect, surprising Hermione. “Have you met Petra? She’s Lady Titov’s sister.”

“How do you do?” she asked politely, in a thick accent like Anna’s.

They were exchanging hellos when Pieter and Anna joined them.

“Do we have a balcony yet?” Pieter asked.

“Yes,” said Blaise. “Fifth floor, east.”

“Blaise Zabini—” Hermione began introductions.

“Are you related to Aractus Zabini?” Anna interrupted.

“He’s my great-uncle!” Blaise looked surprised.

“He had quite the form in broomstick polo,” she said admiringly.

Blaise laughed. “He’ll be happy to know someone remembers. He keeps reminding us every chance he gets.”

“I don’t suppose he’s single?” Anna asked casually. Her sister looked as if she were going to faint.

“He’s seventy!” Blaise laughed.

“I assure you, the lady doesn’t care,” Anna assured him as she took his arm and began steering him away, Draco trailing behind them.

“What is she doing?!” Petra squeaked out at Pieter.

“You a favor.” His eyes twinkled at her before he sped up to join his wife.

Petra swooned and Mithrax caught her. “Are all humans so indirect?” he asked.

Severus cleared his throat. “Yes.”

Hermione elbowed him. “Not always.”

“This from a girl that send a flock of birds after a boy that didn’t know he rejected her.” Severus tsked.

“Did he eventually understand why?” Mithrax asked, fanning Petra.

“No,” Hermione said.

“Thank God,” Severus said under his breath.

“We’re going up. Will you be joining us?” Hermione asked Mithrax.

“Unfortunately, we must perform several ambassadorial duties,” Mithrax apologized with a bow as he took Asta’s arm along with Petra’s. “We’ll join you later.”

Hermione watched Anna wheel Blaise around the room introducing him to people and using it as an excuse to interrogate him while Draco followed, snickering.

Mikhail used this opportunity to join a small group of men from the Brotherhood.

Hermione and Severus wound their way up staircases and passed through wide glass double doors out onto a beautiful tiled terrace. There was a card on the outside that read: Eastern Alliance Courtesy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Silk couches, poufs, and beautiful flowered filled vessels were scattered around a table fireplace. The air was perfumed and warm, despite overlooking a beautiful winter scene.

Severus closed the doors once they were all outside. He pulled on a gold rope and an embroidered tapestry fell so no one could see them.

“What do you know?” Dumbledore asked Pieter.

“Not much,” Pieter said darkly. “He showed up today—”

“Showed up where?” Severus asked sharply.

“My house.” Pieter looked irritated.

“Why would he go to your house?” Dumbledore asked.

“To raid his tea supply again,” Hermione snorted.

Pieter opened his mouth, and then closed it. “They were eating cake when I came down the stairs.”

“I bet that’s when Anna mentioned the wedding,” Hermione pointed out.

“Are you telling me you trust them?” Severus frowned.

“He has been staying with the Brotherhood in their fortress. No one had told me he did not return with the others,” Pieter looked disturbed.

The balcony door opened, and Anna joined them, beaming.

“Have you finished your meddling?” Pieter asked.

She just raised an eyebrow at him. “And what are you talking about?”

“Meddling,” Hermione answered.

“It would be helpful to know his real reason for coming here,” Pieter grumbled.

“The Shards in Jotunheim have been acting strange,” Anna said, surprised. “They wanted to know if Hermione’s Shard is throwing off any strange reading, and if it was, to propose a joint project with the Ministry and the Brotherhood to study the phenomenon.” She sipped at a cup of punch.

“And to get some tea, of course,” Hermione snickered.

“Mmm,” Anna agreed. “He wanted to make sure he was at his best, so he came to our home first. That’s when we told him about the engagement.”

Pieter looked stunned.

“It’s amazing what you find out when you ask,” Anna sniffed.

“Has the Shard been acting strange?” Severus asked Hermione.

“I don’t know, it’s been locked away at Gringotts.”

“A project with the Ministry and the Brotherhood?” Sophia looked angry.

“We already have access to the Jotun through Asta.” Hermione diffused.

Sophia opened and closed her mouth. “How can we be sure he says he truth?”

“It’s no secret if Anna knows,” Pieter reasoned, earning a slap on his shoulder from his wife.

“You could always ask,” Neville said quietly.

There was a tap at the door and Alexandra slipped in. “Ask what?”

“Jotunheim wants info on Hermione’s shard,” Neville filled in.

“I thought you knew about that,” Alexandra frowned.

“How do you know about it?!” Sophia demanded.

“You’d know about it if you’d bothered to come home last night.” Alexandra cocked an eyebrow at her parents who had the decency to blush. “Mithrax has a sister. She’s in the Tower browsing the library. She’s been staying with a Brotherhood family since the battle.”

There were groans all around.

“We should have had a meeting this morning,” Pieter grumbled. “Our information updates are a catastrophe. I should know all of this.”

“Well, we’ve never done this at a major social event,” Hermione grumbled.

“You haven’t.” Severus sniffed.

“Baron Jacob and Baroness Anastasia Snape!”

The announcement was muffled over the music and closed door. Severus groaned all the same. Hermione tried to hide her amusement and failed. He gave her a cross look.

“If you want to know everything, you should ask Stacie,” Anna nodded.

“Why?” Severus asked suspiciously.

“She’s the only one that saw everyone this morning and you know how she is,” Anna gave Severus a knowing look.

“My mother, the great interrogator.” Severus looked tired.

“She’s effective,” Pieter said reluctantly.

“She’s nosy,” Severus corrected him.

“What time is it?” Alexandra asked.

“Still time before transformations,” Neville assured her. “Want to dance?”

“That would be lovely.”

“If you need us, I have my coin,” Neville reminded them as he rose.

“Have fun!” Sophia called after them.

“How long have you known about this?” Dumbledore asked her.

“Since I had to talk her into writing that silly letter to him in the first place.” Sophia sighed as Alexandra blushed. “They grow up too fast.”

Severus let out a strangled sound. Hermione laughed.

“You two stop that! You should have never gotten married in the first place! You’re just children!” Sophia opined with a sniff.

“I suspect I got the better end of the deal on that one,” Hermione laughed. She glanced at Severus who looked stunned. She leaned to kiss him on the cheek. “I have a lab now,” she whispered in his ear.

He snorted, but she saw a corner of his mouth twitch.

“We should go find your parents before they come looking for us,” she warned. He groaned. “Oh, stop being a baby and come on.”

“If anyone had told me about a year ago I’d have sent them to the medical wing,” Neville muttered as he held the tapestry aside for Alexandra.

Severus scowled, but let Hermione pull him back to the crowds of people dancing.

“There he is!”

Severus winced as he heard his mother calling out over the din.

“I thought we were supposed to lead the first dance?” he asked. “Where were you?”

“We were held up at the Portkey meeting point. Some infuriating little man tried to bring a satyr as his date,” Anastasia said.

“I don’t know,” Jacob mused. “Might liven the place up a bit.”

“You have to dance again. I didn’t see you the first time. Go.” The look on Anastasia Snape’s face brooked no nonsense.

Hermione and Severus went to the dance floor and did as they were told. Severus was a superb dancer, as his mother had claimed, and Hermione smiled through the steps as her feet levitated inches above the ground when she was twirled.

He sat her gently on her feet afterwards and he led her to a long table full of nibbles. He pointed at little displays of food and things floated onto small plates for them to take. An enormous gold fountain cycled liquid that looked like falling crystal. Severus filled up amber glass cups for them.

Hermione sipped at hers. “Water and sushi. Like our first date.”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“Then why do you know what I’m talking about?” She smiled sweetly.

They rotated among small groups and Hermione was introduced to far too many people than she could be expected to remember. They danced a few more times and then fanfare played out.

“It’s the countdown!” A girl nearby shrieked in delight.

People began fussing with their costumes, getting ready for their transformations.

“Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter!”

Hermione’s face lit up as she saw Harry and Ron at the top of the staircase.

There was a break in the crowd as Ginny pushed through it as the countdown started.

“5…4…3…2…1!”

Hermione felt her gown growing tighter, her hair levitating and the hem splaying around her. She laughed as a butterfly flittered by and she raised her hands to feel small blossoms and leaves in the tendrils of her hair.

“A dryad. Lovely.” Severus looked at her tenderly as people cheered around them as their costumes transformed them into unrealistic expectations.

A cloud floating nearby opened large blue eyes. “Watch Ginny.”

Ginny was on fire. Her hair and dress flared to life as she became a fire nymph, and she ran.

Harry was running down the staircase to meet her, his body going transparent as it turned to water.

When they came together there was a great cloud of sizzling steam.

There were wolf whistles as they came apart, damp and breathless.

Ron descended the stairs rolling his eyes. “Gross.”

“How long do you think they’ve been planning that?” Severus asked casually.

“Harry threatened to murder the footman if anything went wrong,” Luna said as her cloud became more solidified. “Why didn’t your robes change, Professor Snape?”

“I’m security detail. It’s why I don’t have a costume,” he said as he made no effort to slow down.

There was a scene beginning in a circle of members of the Brotherhood. Severus strained to look, then started over with a frown on his face.

She reigned in her costume, so she could move easier and followed him.

She was so very glad she did.

Nicolai was so angry his face was purpling. She was thankful he had taken the youth potion for surely, he would have given himself a stroke.

In front of him a gorgeous, pouting Mediterranean woman stood in a revealing red costume, red wings of flame bursting from her back and small horns protruding from her forehead.

“I thought you said I was a succubus? This should come as no surprise!” she said haughtily.

Hermione recognized Nyssa’s voice and pulled Severus back. “Don’t you dare!”

“This is an outrage!” Nicolai roared.

“How?” A member of the Brotherhood even older than Nicolai looked as if Christmas had come early. “It’s a lovely costume, dear. May I have this dance?”

“You may not!” Nicolai looked apoplectic. He pulled the cloak from his shoulders and tried to cover her up.

She snatched it from his hands, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it. Then she slapped his face and stalked away. He looked stunned. So, did the others.

There was half a moment before he picked up his cloak and went after her.

“What happened?” Hermione asked Severus.

“He initialized a mating ritual by giving her his cloak.”

Hermione was horrified.

Severus started laughing.

“What’s so funny?!”

“She accepted.”

Chapter 53

The rest of the evening went swimmingly. Hermione and Severus danced and ate all night, stopping to chat with Lord or Lady whomever. or sneaking a moment to say hello to a friend. Hermione avoided any hexes, but she did catch her fair share of dirty looks from among witches Severus’ age, and one from her dance instructor who she didn’t expect to be there.

She had been grateful when the Weasleys finally arrived shortly after midnight, and had a dance with each of them, even Ron, who turned out to be a better dancer than she had thought possible.

Dad said we needed lessons. He’s the Minister of Magic now, and we aren’t to trod on any dignitaries’ feet.

Harry and Ginny had danced the night away, since they hadn’t had any type of wedding reception, steaming up anyone they got near, to much annoyance.

Mithrax, to everyone’s surprise, periodically turned into a small thunderstorm that rained down crystal droplets.

Asta and her Hufflepuff mates danced until the sun came up, and several members of the Brotherhood were delighted to meet the acquaintance of Sara and Cat.

Hermione had never experienced anything like it in her life, and she got to experience it with her friends. She was content, tired, and full of exotic snacks.

As night became morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Ginny and Mithrax, Nicolai, Nyssa, Mikhail, and Asta relaxed on their reserved balcony. The sky was growing light and they could see the view of the pretty valley Durmstrang overlooked. Sunlight twinkled on the dewdrops that decorated the trees and flowers and a cloud of starlings twisted in the sky.

“We have to discuss the curse eventually,” Ginny said in a tired voice. “We all know it’s is more than anyone is willing to talk about.”

Mithrax agreed. “I think his bloodline will remain tainted for all time. It seems to be more of a corruption than curse. He can pass on the weakening effects, as we have seen.”

“What do we do?” Ginny asked worriedly.

“Get sterilized,” Mithrax said looking at them. “Don’t let this go any further. It will just become stronger.”

“To what end?” Hermione asked, her faced white.

“Until their line gives birth to the monster that will swallow the world. Two souls are tainted now.” Mithrax stood up. “I don’t know how far in the future that will be. The curse is one of ours, and was born of chaos. It is transferrable.”

“That’s fine,” Harry said simply. “I’ll do it.”

“Harry!” Ginny squeaked. “Shouldn’t we talk about this?”

“We’ll adopt.” His face had a look of finality. “I’ll raise a family with you, if you want, but someone else can have them. If we part ways, I’ll be celibate. I’m not passing this to anyone else. I’m sorry I passed it to you.”

“You didn’t know,” Ginny said insistently.

“There would still be normal children for generations,” Nicolai pointed out. “Maybe the monster will appear at the natural end of the world and he’s just the physical personification of a prophecy.”

“I think we’ve had our fill of prophecies,” Harry said firmly. “I’m done.”

“I don’t blame you,” Nyssa said. She was wearing Nicolai’s cloak and leaning against him, her eyes sleepy. His arm was around her.

Mithrax shook his head. “I’m not an expert in prophecies or curses. I’m a historian.” He looked at Harry. “Do you feel different? Has anything changed besides your memories?”

Harry looked guilty.

“Harry!” Ginny exclaimed.

“It’s not anything bad!” Harry insisted. “Sometimes I… see things.”

“Like what?” Mithrax asked.

“I couldn’t figure out what it was at first, but,” he hesitated. “I tried a few tests—”

“Seriously, Harry, what is it?” Hermione asked exasperatedly.

“I can see traces of magic,” Harry admitted.

“Like a goblin?” Ron exclaimed.

“Goblins can see magic?” Harry asked.

“Of course, they can!” Ron said in disbelief. “It’s how they can have a bank full of magic when they can’t have wands.”

Harry looked relieved.

“Anything else?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

“Sometimes I feel… like there’s something building up inside me. When I get angry or frustrated—”

“That’s perfectly understandable under the circumstances,” Nicolai said.

Ginny patted Harry on the shoulder. “I think we all feel that way sometimes.”

“But it feels like—it feels like I might lose control,” Harry admitted.

“Lose control of what?” Nicolai asked.

“I don’t know.” Harry’s shoulders slumped.

“I think we should test this,” Nicolai said firmly.

“I disagree,” Nyssa roused herself. “I think we should do much more study before even thinking of doing practical testing.”

“We can do it in the old coliseum,” Nicolai said, pooh-poohing her. “Neither Muggle nor Magical technology can pierce it’s protections.”

“How long has it been since we used it?” Nyssa asked incredulously. “Five hundred years? Muggle technology has improved quite a bit.”

“We can test it before we test him. It should leave you plenty of time for research,” Nicolai reasoned.

“So, it will just be us doing the research, will it?” Nyssa sat up. “While you run around building things and playing games?”

“Playing games?” Nicolai began turning red. “Is that what you—”

“What about the prophecy?” Hermione asked. “Are we going to act like it doesn’t—”

“What’s that?” Harry asked suddenly, looking out over the valley.

“I don’t know,” Asta said, frowning as she followed his gaze.

Nicolai got to his feet and went to see what she was talking about.

“Those aren’t birds,” Asta said squinting at what they had assumed were starlings. “What are they?”

Nicolai swore and hit a tile on the wall with his elbow. It lit up and he put his finger to a square in the center.

“This is Nicolai, Representative of The Mystic Brotherhood. Please apparate to your respective homes in a civilized manner. There has been a dementor sighting and the building must be evacuated. Thank you.”

Hermione heard the message repeating itself throughout the building. She looked at Harry to say something and the whole building shook so mightily the masonry cracked and the balcony above them started to crumble.

The face of an enormous Golem peered over the edge of the balcony at them. It’s skin was rock and ice and it glowed with a life from within. It roared, its mouth a pit of blue fire.

Harry was shaking his wand, but nothing was happening.

“Join hands!” Mithrax ordered them, and they did without question.

There was a flash of light, and they were gone.

Chapter 54

When the group opened their eyes, they gasped.

Asta fell to the ground and flexed her hands in the dark orange grass, then she raised her eyes to the twilight sky, and into a field of blue trees bearing silver fruit, and then up to Mikhail. She pointed to a yellow cottage in the distance and cried out with joy. She jumped to her feet and pulled Mikhail towards the house.

“What have you done?” Nikolai hissed at Mithrax. Nyssa looked too shocked to speak.

“The magic-eater would have killed all of us. It diffused your power,” he looked at Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. “It was our only escape.”

Harry shook his wand, and red and gold sparks flew out the end as they began the walk to what Hermione was sure was Asta’s home.

“Seems all right now,” Harry confirmed.

“Why did you bring us here?” Nyssa asked.

“If there were coordinated attacks, this place would be safe,” Mithrax explained. “I’m obligated to protect the Blood of the Gods.” He bowed to Hermione, and she threw him an annoyed look.

“I thought Asta was a Princess,” Nicolai said. “Yet her dwelling is a cottage?”

“There are many Princes and Princesses within her kind.”

“Is she in line for something?” Hermione asked.

“Long ago, but those times are gone,” Mithrax said, regeretfully. “Titles and antiques are all that are left.”

The humans waded through the grass and were nearing the boundary fence when the screaming started. It sent the hairs on the back of their necks up, and a primal part of Hermione recoiled in fear.

Harry started to run, but Mithrax held him back. “It’s their language.”

“Their language!?” Hermione blurted. “What kind of language is that?”

“Don’t you know?” Mithrax laughed.

“What is she?” Ron asked, swallowing nervously.

“A banshee.”

“She can’t be!” Nyssa exclaimed. “People have died in the tower before and she never wailed!”

“She’s young,” Mithrax said sagely.

Suddenly, Mikhail ran from the house and towards them, his face pale. Before anyone could say something, a blond, pale woman chased after him, swinging a shoe.

“I didn’t do anything!” Mikhail squeaked. “I swear!”

The woman caught sight of the small crowd of people and stopped short. Meanwhile, a large man with onyx skin and snakes for hair strolled around the corner with Asta.

Hermione looked at Mithrax, then at the man.

“You knew we were related,” he reminded her.

“You’re a banshee, too?” Hermione blurted out.

“Men can’t scream, if that’s what you’re asking,” Mithrax said coolly.

“Calm down, Helga! They met at a ceremony with searing human flesh! She lives with only women! He tells the truth!” the man bellowed. “I saw her memories!”

The woman had the decency to look embarrassed.

“She lives with me,” Nyssa said cautiously.

“And he with me,” Nicolai added. “Thousands of miles apart. They communicate through letters and gatherings.”

“That’s where we were tonight!” Asta said excitedly. “I danced papa!”

He laughed, picked her up by the waist and swung her around like a child. “You were beautiful, my princess!”

He set her down gently. “Now tell mama you’re sorry for nearly killing her with worry.”

“I should have told you about the ceremony first, Mama,” Asta said, pointedly not apologizing.

Helga seemed not to mind and brushed Mikhail’s jacket off. “You run fast, for a human… what’s this?” she brushed back a lock of his hair. “Ah. No wonder you were drawn to each other.”

Hermione gasped as she saw the tips of Mikhail’s ears. “Those weren’t there before!”

“What?” Mikhail asked, feeling with his hands and looking surprised.

“Many people have a sliver of giant blood in them. Unless it’s strong, it will only show in your homeland, where your magic is strong,” Helga nodded.

“What does that mean?” Mikhail asked.

“You’ll be faster and stronger. Not much. Your clan might be interested in you. You’ll be a novelty.”

Mikhail looked decidedly unhappy.

Nicolai stepped up to examine the young man’s ears. “Curious.”

“You know, I never thought I’d have an adventure with you two again.” Harry smiled at Ron and Hermione despite himself.

“It’s easy for you to say that with Ginny next to you,” Hermione snapped. She wheeled around on Mithrax. “Where is my husband?”

“He was on patrol and apparated out with everyone else,” Ron said reassuringly.

“How does he know where I am?” she asked, afraid.

“He doesn’t,” Harry said grimly.

“He’d know if you were dead,” Ginny reassured her. “It’s part of the binding spell you used when you were married.”

“Does he know if I’m alive or injured and trapped somewhere?” Hermione asked desperately. “Is there any way to communicate?”

“We must go to a gate to return you to your earth,” Mithrax said. “There are ways of communication, but they aren’t near.”

“You must rest first,” Asta’s father said. “You have come far. We will have rooms prepared. When you wake, we will discuss your quest.”

They agreed and went to the little house. When the little door was opened, it revealed the interior of a large home with a wide, sweeping staircase and lush carpets. The hall was fashioned of gold, silver, steel, and bone. Hermione shivered.

They were shown to their rooms, there was enough room for each of them to have their own, except for Harry and Ginny.

“I’m not tired,” Hermione insisted.

“Herbs in the hearth will refresh you.” Asta’s mother offered.

Hermione had respectfully declined at first, but had finally conceded. She slept.

---

“Gone?” Severus looked at Dumbledore blankly. “What do you mean, gone?”

“She is among the missing, but we have reason to believe she was evacuated,” Dumbledore said calmly.

“There was a circle burned on the balcony. A reverse summoning circle,” Arthur Weasley said. He looked deathly white, but then again, he was missing two children.

“Circle to where?” Severus asked.

“Jotunheim,” Arthur said bleakly. “At least we know where they are and who they’re with.”

“What?” Severus asked sharply.

“I don’t think it was their fault,” Kingsley Shacklebolt interjected. “The golem was near to them when it appeared. They couldn’t apparate if their magic was cancelled.”

Severus sat in a burgundy armchair, his head in his hands.

“We’ll get them back—” Arthur began.

“I’ll get them back,” Severus said firmly. “I don’t need your help. I don’t need your permission.”

“No one’s telling you not to go. You’re the only one that can go,” Kingsley said.

“According to whom?” Severus asked.

“There was a Jotun left behind. She wasn’t at the Ball,” Dumbledore said.

“The Amazons aren’t keeping this one, too?” he asked sharply.

“No, they aren’t,” Arthur said levelly. “However, women in their species can’t teleport. They have a magic attack that rattles the nerves.”

The females fight, and the males use flight. Interesting,” Severus said flatly.

“It is interesting. It’s also problematic because her brother was her ride back and he’s gone. She needs us as much as we need her.” Kingsley said.

“Who says we need her?” Severus said stubbornly.

“You need a guide.” Kingsley said flatly. “You aren’t a Shard-keeper. You’re just the next-of-kin to one in possible danger. It allows for much, but you still must be cautious.”

“We know you have access to the Shard, Severus,” Arthur said abruptly. “Let us know when you’re leaving, and you’ll have the support you need from us.”

“I will leave tomorrow. I will procure the Shard from Gringott’s. Make sure the woman is ready by ten o’clock.”

Chapter 55

“The golem must have been fierce if it caused Mithrax to flee.” A short, pale young remarked. “I do not know him for cowardice.” She had wavy white hair and wore a white toga in the Amazonian style.

“I’ve been told he was saving others,” Severus said coolly.

They were in the Minister of Magic’s office with Arthur Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a handful of Ministry people there to observe.

“There was very little warning,” Arthur assured everyone. “He was a fast thinker.”

“Your packs are outfitted with the latest,” Kingsley told them as he checked a buckle.

“This is unnecessary,” the woman huffed. “It is my home. I do not need supplies for my home.”

“You may become separated or part ways—”

“Give him the supplies. He will be the one who needs them.”

“Cynna, there will be gifts and offerings to help you on your way. It isn’t only survival supplies ,” Kingsley said firmly.

“That is a matter of opinion,” Cynna the banshee scoffed. “But I will take your gifts.”

“You will not be needing the Shard for transportation,” Arthur explained as he handed Severus a silver dagger to slide in his boot. “It’s far too risky. We’re doing it the old-fashioned way.”

“How secure is this Floo?” Cynna asked.

“This is a Ministry Floo,” Kingsley explained. “It is limited in its destinations and can be tuned to specific locations to prevent accidents. It’s tuned to a safehouse in Paris where you will find a portkey that will take you to—”

“Yes, yes,” Cynna said impatiently. “We’ve been over this. What if the Atlantians refuse passage?”

“Then we use the Shard,” Severus said grimly.

“We want to avoid that at all costs,” Arthur said challengingly. “That’s why you will leave it with us.”

---

Hermione woke, first hearing unfamiliar birdcall and groggily recounting the events of the night. She looked at the brown dress laid over the back of a white wooden chair and shook her head.

Getting out of bed was a chore, the herbs from the night before wearing off slowly. There was fresh clothing waiting for her, silver and black mesh, with a light fur cloak and a pair of boots to go with it. She wondered when someone had slipped in to leave them for her, but she wasn’t comfortable thinking about people slipping in and out as she slept.

She heard voices, though they were far off, and she went exploring. The floor she was on was empty, but there were household sounds further on, so she followed them.

Black carpet with silver human skulls woven in the pattern wound her down hallways and staircases until she was on the ground floor. The grandiose entry way led to other, smaller hallways and smaller rooms that looked as if they were from different time periods and possibly different houses.

A short hallway led to a room that looked as if it belonged to the small yellow cottage seen from outside. It was large and sunny with a cast-iron stove, a large wooden dining table, and a screen door leading to the yard.

Hermione should have known the boys would have looked for food straight away. Harry, Ron, and Mikhail were tucked into a spread of food. They were also wearing mesh clothing like the set she had found waiting for her, their formal robes discarded for practicalities sake. Asta’s father presided over the meal and was taking apart a large fowl for his own meal.

“Where are the others?” Hermione yawned as she shuffled in.

“Ginny’s sleeping. Asta’s out picking flowers with her mother. Nicolai and Nyssa are somewhere plotting, I’m sure,” Mikhail said around a mouthful of potatoes.

Hermione snorted.

“Join us, Shard-keeper,” Asta’s father encouraged. “They were telling me about your battles with this Voldemort.”

“We were to the part where Harry flew around like the wind.” Ron nodded. “Still sorry you missed it, Hermione.”

“Something tells me I would have been distracted,” she said huffily.

“I wasn’t just watching him, you know! I was doing other things!”

“Then how did a flowerpot knock you out?” Hermione said snippily. “I’m the one that found you, you know.”

“Did you?” Ron frowned.

“She did, I saw her,” Harry confirmed.

“When?” Hermione asked.

“I went underground right after you got there, I don’t think you saw me,” Harry said dismissively. “You may have been distracted.”

Hermione grumbled.

Just then, the screen door opened and Asta walked in with her mother. They were carrying bunches of flowers with flaming blooms.

“Good morning!” Asta said as she walked by the table, accidentally singing Ron’s hair.

He squeaked in surprise as Harry slapped at his smoking hair.

“Be more careful, Asatatania!” Her father chided. “Humans catch on fire easily!”

“We got fire flowers for supper, Atox,” Asta’s mother said as she set the flowers in a large metal kettle.

“Supper?” Nicolai looked mildly surprised as he and Nyssa walked in. “Are we staying that long?”

Asta and Mikhail exchanged a look.

“I must stay long enough to get married,” Mikhail said.

“He should meet his clan.” Asta’s mother frowned. “Their blessing would be a boon.”

“If you get married here you must have it,” Asta’s father said. “It can be no other way with the giants. To do otherwise is an insult.”

“And where are you planning on living after this wedding?” Asta’s mother crossed her arms. “You never spoke. Are we to lose her for another thousand years?”

“If he were to stay, he would never see his family again,” Nicolai pointed out. “Asta could return eventually.”

“Why? Are the portals broken? Will the Call never come again?” Asta’s mother asked, her temper rising.

“Wizards live less than two hundred years, Mama,” Asta told her.

The woman looked at Asta to Mikhail and back. “Ridiculous. Why get married in the first place? He will be gone before you know it! No wonder alliances between us and the humans always fall through. How many generations must you renegotiate with for a millennium of peace?”

Asta’s father looked weary. “It is not our decision any longer, Helga. She has started the Mating. They don’t have to be married, but they are in love. They should.”

“Don’t come crying to me when the giants squash you,” Asta’s mother scoffed. “What will you give them in tribute? Human words? That worked out so well last time. Tell me how giants and men live in peace, again. I forgot.”

“We are here on a Quest, Mama. We will find something on our way—” Asta began.

“Quests are not like they are in the tales. It may be incomplete. Perhaps it will be simple. Perhaps it will lead to somewhere to never return. It is not your Quest, Asta. You will not be going on it.”

---

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Severus. I can’t trust you. Not with her,” Arthur said in a low tone. “I know very well you’ll throw caution to the wind. You agreed to a guide without argument. You aren’t being reasonable, and we all know it. If you need it, you come back and we’ll have a team to help you.”

Severus stared at him for several stony moments before handing the Shard over. “You will be running many tests on it, I’m sure.”

“We already did quite a few before giving it to Hermione,” Arthur admitted. Severus looked surprised. “Did you think Dumbledore poked it with his wand a few times and decided it was fine? That thing went straight to the Department of Mysteries for as long as they thought they could keep it without causing an incident.”

“Did you use me to get it out of her bank vault? How Slytherin of you, Arthur,” Severus said sharply.

“No. They argued about it all night and into the morning. I can wait if you want to take it back to Gringott’s,” Arthur assured him.

Severus closed his eyes. “No. We will leave. I trust you will keep it safe.”

“I will. Take this,” Arthur traded for a large belt pouch. “Molly packed you a few things for the trip.”

Severus opened the top of the bag and smelled meat pies. “Piroshki?”

“She got the recipe from your cousin with the pub,” Arthur said.

Severus knotted the bag shut before tying it to his belt. “Tell her thank you.”

“I will.”

“Yuri as well.”

“We convinced your parents to stay in France for the time being—” Arthur winced.

“Define ‘France,’” Severus said suspiciously.

“She wanted to see you before you were off. I can’t blame her. You’re her only child and you’re about to run off into what could literally be the mouth of hell.”

Chapter 56

“They may be his clan, but they don’t have to like him, or any of you,” Atox said, the snakes in his hair slithering around his shoulders. “Giants are fickle. You must take them something impressive.”

“We have magic,” Hermione. “The giants in our world seem to like that.”

“They like it because they lost it. Our giants are still magic-users,” Atox waved her off. “They are also shape-shifters, if you didn’t know.”

“How will we find them after we have tribute?” Nicolai asked.

“They live weeks from here—”

“Weeks?” Nyssa exclaimed.

“We stay here that long and we’ll have two weddings.” Mikhail snorted. Nicolai smacked him on the back of the head. “I’m being serious! How long were you planning your courtship? Where will you live?”

“We will live in a new enclave where the Amazons and the Mystic Brotherhood will share information and projects. Did you not hear the discussion about the Colosseum?” Nicolai said hotly.

“I never agreed to testing,” Harry interjected.

“You should, though,” Ron said as he reached for a small blue boiled egg. When he cracked it, black slime oozed out. He made a disgusted noise. Asta’s mother took his plate from him and shook her head at him as if he should have known better. “The Ministry has nothing like the Colosseum. They’re better prepared.”

“We’ll have time for that later,” Ginny said firmly.

“Will we?” Nicolai asked. “We have no idea how long we will be here or if we’ll be able to get back.”

“I will not sit around,” Hermione blurted out. “I have to get back home. I have a husband! I have parents! Who will look after them?”

She looked around. The only people in the room that weren’t with their partners were her and Ron, and he had other siblings to look out for his parents.

“Severus can take care of himself, and he will take care of your parents,” Harry reassured her. “They’re family. Your mother-in-law has pestered them half to death by now. The Delacours are wondering what they did to deserve it.”

Hermione huffed out a breath, knowing he was right. “I hope they aren’t too much bother—”

“If they are Fleur’s parents can chuck them out and I’m sure your in-laws would be thrilled to have them.”

Hermione nodded.

“You’ve got to keep your eye on the prize,” Ron said knowingly. “Keep a level head.”

---

“You are not going anywhere!” Severus blasted.

“I’d like to see you try to stop me.” Anastasia Snape was dressed in a red jumpsuit and goggles and had a large pack strapped to her back. She was staring down her son and the Jotun, Cynna, was trying not to laugh. “I have clearance from the French government. Let me go.”

“No!” Severus exclaimed, outraged. “Where is Father? He’s noticeably absent from your send-off.”

“He is otherwise detained,” she said coolly.

“Did you lock him in the pottery shed again?” Severus fumed.

“And it will take him at hours to get out without his wand,” she countered.

“Oh, for the love of—”

“I’m the only one who knows what object is the portkey!” She nodded triumphantly.

Severus cast his gaze around the Parisian apartment.

His eyes lit on something. “Accio rubber duck!” He grabbed Cynna by the wrist as his hand caught the bath toy. They disappeared.

---

“We can give you a wagon,” Asta’s father insisted. He put his arm around his daughter. She looked uncomfortable and she and Mikhail said volumes with their eyes.

“I will come back,” Mikhail said seriously. He ran a hand through his brown hair nervously.

“I know you will,” she said reassuringly. “I will wait for you.”

He hesitated for a moment before he kissed her. Atox grumbled, but said nothing.

Asta’s mother gave Mikhail a kiss on the cheek. “I packed things for you. Take care with them.”

“Thank you, for everything,” Harry said as everyone else said their thanks and goodbyes as the wagon was loaded with people and sacks of supplies.

The wagon looked more like a sled than a proper wagon and was both floating and self-propelling, like a low-flying carpet with sides. Canvas was rolled along the interior walls, and Asta’s mother told them how to assemble them into a tent for shelter at night.

“If you were looking for Curse-Breakers your best choice is in the North. The shamans may have something for you,” Atox said gruffly. His wife gave him a sharp look.

“Thank you, truly,” Ginny said. “We don’t know how to make it up to you.”

“Give us a new story to sing,” Atox told her. “That will be thanks enough.”

Finally, the Golden Trio, Ginny, an Amazon and two Mystics began their quest into the wilds of Jotunheim in search of a cure for a curse and a blessing for a marriage.

Chapter 57

The enchanted wagon made for easy travel over the soft hills surrounding the valley that Asta’s parents lived in, but the further they got away from the little homestead the harder travel became. They found a forest so thick the wagon couldn’t make it through the proper way. They had to turn it onto its side and hope they could find a clearing to set up their camp in, which thankfully they had because that night it rained spiders.

Hissing, spitting, tiny spiders that scrabbled for purchase on everything and threw themselves at the small windows when anyone looked out.

Once the sides of the wagon were up and the roof was tightly fastened, the walls and roof became solid, and the windows thick clear crystal. A trapdoor revealed itself and led to a cozy burrow with stacked beds and a small hearth to cook on. There was a generous amount of supplies, and even a map.

“Can we trust a map from them?” Mikhail asked.

“Do we have a choice?” Nyssa asked.

“We do. We can always throw it out,” Nicolai said with a huff. “Do we want to?”

“We can trust the mother,” Nyssa said.

“You say that because she is a woman!”

“I say that because it displeased him when she gave us the wagon.”

“Perhaps she is the one that doesn’t want the match.”

“The mother likes us,” Mikhail said shakily. “Better than the father, at any rate.”

“She could be saving us for something worse,” Nikolai scowled.

“It is in their kind to be tricksters,” Nyssa said soothingly. “Asta is a special case and they lost the records of her first hundred years with us in one of the old wars. I know she was a handful. You may not know it, but events triggered her maturity, not time. When she was left with us, she was just a babe, but she looked a grown woman.”

“How did she come to be in your care?” Nikolai asked.

“It was over a thousand years ago. As I said, the records were destroyed centuries ago. The reconstructed records were rewritten from memory hundreds of years after they were first created.” Nyssa shrugged. “Who knows how much it is true?”

“Even rumor has to start somewhere,” Harry said. He was feeding small pieces of peat into the hearth and stoking the fire.

“Where does the smoke go?” Ginny asked. “There’s no chimney.”

Harry shrugged.

“And you just lit it?!” Nyssa was alarmed.

“It wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t meant to be lit. The smoke is leaving. I can transfigure a chimney, but the spiders will get in,” Harry suggested.

“This is fine,” Ron said in a high-pitched voice. Ginny reached out and took her brothers’ hand.

“Can we travel like this?” Mikhail asked.

“The cart will follow us, but I don’t think its self-propelling,” Nicolai said cautiously. “If there are any experiments, I’d rather they be done in milder conditions.”

“Yes,” Nyssa agreed.

“So, we stay for the night,” Hermione said.

“What if it hasn’t stopped by tomorrow?” Ron asked.

“Then we wait for it to stop,” Harry said firmly. “We got here in clear weather. It can’t last forever.”

“But then they’ll still be out there waiting for us,” Ron protested.

“You can stay in the wagon while we go looking after it stops,” Hermione said soothingly. “You’ll be safe in here.”

Ron looked as if he didn’t believe her.

---

“Are you sure this is the way?” Severus grumbled as he climbed over rocky terrain. They were in a cave near the sea, he knew that much, though where in the world that was, he did not know. It was dark and he was using an orb of light to find his way. Cynna, to his irritation, could see in the dark.

“I hope so. You didn’t grab the map,” Cynna said irritatedly.

“You said you knew where we were going.” Severus grunted.

“It’s been a thousand years. Forgive me if my memory is rusty.”

Severus was quiet for a moment. “What if we don’t—”

“Found it!”

He swung around to see her standing by what looked like a long shaft, a single rune carved crudely on the cave wall. She waved at him once before jumping. Then she was gone.

Severus swore, then hurried to the shaft. He could see nothing. No light. No voices. No portal. No broom to get him out if he jumped in a pit and was lost forever.

But it was his only chance to see Hermione again. So, he jumped.

-=-
“At least we have food,” Mikhail said cautiously.

“If it’s not poisoned,” Nicolai sniffed.

They had found a cupboard filled with supplies. Nicolai was skeptical of them.

Harry took an apple and bit into it, pretending he was choking, but no one fell for it.

“We have no choice unless you want a bowl full of spiders,” he said sarcastically. His patience was wearing thin.

Ron whimpered.

“They fed us once. If they wanted to kill us, they would have,” Ginny said reasonably.

“Maybe they didn’t want to kill us in front of Asta?” Mikhail mumbled. “It would be easier to send us on a quest we never come back from.”

“It took her a thousand years to find you. I doubt she will get over it and go on with her life,” Hermione said soothingly. “Besides, I have a feeling she has a temper and her father doesn’t understand how a girl her presumed age acts when she’s upset.”

“How is that?” Mikhail asked, alarmed since he had very limited experience with women.

Hermione, Ginny, and Nyssa exchanged looks before they laughed.

“Better not to think about it,” Nicolai said darkly.

---

Severus may not be able to fly, but he could slow his descent. The tunnel seemed to go on and on. Severus wondered if he was going to the center of the earth. He waited for the pressure to begin, but there was none, and it relieved him.

Eventually, he started seeing a dim light that grew brighter as he grew closer. Closer to Atlantis. Closer to Hermione. Closer to the steel spikes that waited for him at the bottom of the shaft.

With his spells in place, he deftly avoided them. He landed near them, and faced a long tunnel lit by green cubes set into the hard rock. The walls seemed to be weeping and there was the sound of dripping water far ahead of them.

Cynna was leaning against a wall beneath one of them. Her face was unreadable. “You made it.”

“I did.” Severus said stiffly.

She grunted and walked along the passageway. “They know we’re coming. The fall triggered their alarms. Get your gifts ready. If the passage looks this decayed who knows what we will find.”

They walked for some time before they started hearing marching feet. Cynna tensed and it made Severus nervous. A blue light began glowing brighter down the tunnel, as if a slow-moving train was coming towards them, but it couldn’t be. Not only because there were no tracks, but because the light was bobbing and as it came closer Severus could see that it was a group of men and women wielding tridents and wearing magical headlamps.

“I represent the Ministry of Magic,” Severus declared, pulling out a parchment and praying the experimental translator charms were working. “We request passage to Jotunheim.”

No one was paying any attention to Severus. They were all staring at Cynna. She smiled that strange detached smile their kind had and a few took steps back.

“What are you doing?” Severus asked her, right before she opened her mouth and hissed at them.

They turned and fled, some of them dropped their tridents, several screamed. Severus and Cynna were faced by three figures, teenagers from the looks of it: two girls, one tall and one small, and a boy.

“Back to hell with you, Vampire,” the boy snarled.

“Vampires?” Severus was confused. “I am not a vampire.” He looked at Cynna who was trying to look innocent. “She is not a vampire. We’re here on a quest for my wife—” Severus waved his parchment helplessly.

The boy lowered his trident and the girls followed suit. He took the paper, but shook his head. “I can’t read whatever language this is.”

“It’s English,” Severus frowned. “Why do you think we’re vampires.”

“Her face. Her eyes reflected yellow in the darkness and then she hissed,” the small girl said as she tried to peer at the parchment. “Doesn’t look like any English I’ve ever seen.”

Severus thought for a moment. The he pulled out his wand and tapped the parchment. The language changed to Chaucer’s English.

“Oh!” The girl exclaimed, but it wasn’t the language or the parchment. She stared at Severus’ wand.

The boy was speechless, but the other girl just looked at them curiously.

“Poseidon’s chariot, you’re a wizard.”

Chapter 58

The three soldiers led Severus and Cynna through the dry, dimly lit underwater tunnel and into a room shaped like an igloo. The walls were made of glass, but the sea outside was so dark they might as well be solid rock.

“I apologize,” the young man said, embarrassed. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“We sent notice,” Cynna said, frowning. “We’re looking for passage to Jotunheim.”

“If someone received word, it hasn’t trickled down to our level yet,” the taller of the girls said.

“Perhaps it’s ensnared in the diplomatic courts,” the smaller girl suggested.

The boy removed his helmet. He had gold hair and eyes. “What is the nature of your mission?”

“We’re looking for passage to Jotunheim, as we have said,” Severus ground his teeth.

“We aren’t a portkey station,” the taller of the girls said sharply.

“Other options were blocked because of the recent attacks,” Cynna said patiently. “Several people were evacuated to Jotunheim by a well-meaning diplomat—”

“How do you know this was well meaning?” the boy asked. “What if it was an abduction?”

“In the circumstances an evacuation was appropriate,” Severus said stiffly.

“And these people in Jotunheim are important?”

“Only if you call Harry Potter important,” Cynna snapped.

“Who’s Harry Potter?” the tall girl asked curiously.

Normally this would cheer Severus’ mood, but now was not the time. “He defeated an evil wizard who still has mad followers set to tearing the world apart. The recent attacks are a diplomatic nightmare. Land devastated. Muggles terrified. Ice titan ravaging the—”

“Titan?” The smaller of the girls gasped. “They’re just legend!”

“Not anymore.” Severus looked grim.

“You think this Harry Potter can fix everything once they return him to you?” the boy asked.

“When the evacuation happened this one’s wife went with Potter,” Cynna said, shrugging in Severus’ direction. It sounded so short-sighted when she said it.

“Recovering all that were evacuated is a priority,” Severus said stubbornly. “Even if Potter can’t help our situation he needs to be retrieved.”

“It sounds as if you don’t like this Potter,” the smaller girl said.

“He’s irritating,” Severus said, and left it at that.

The boy nudged a tile on the floor with his boot and then stamped on it. The lights grew brighter and they revealed a long hallway. “We were doing maneuvers today, that’s why we were so close to the manual entrance. Normally we aren’t this far out. You’re lucky we were around to find you. Otherwise you’d be bumping along in the dark for who knows how long.”

“They’re wizards, remember,” the younger girl prodded him. “They don’t need our lights.”

“It’s good to have them just the same. Thank you,” Cynna said politely.

---

“Do you think it’s going to rain?” Ron asked nervously. His eyes darted over the grey sky.

“No,” Ginny said firmly. She brushed her hands on her clothes as she got to her feet. “If it does, we’ll stop and take shelter in the wagon like we did the last time.”

Ron shuddered as he fiddled with a strap on the wagon.

The rain of spiders had stopped and to everyone’s amazement, the creatures had melted the next day as if they had been made of ice. Their puddles left dead patches of grass. The magical wagon had been unharmed.

The next few days’ journey was hard. The forest finally ended and led bewilderingly into a grey rocky area. They had to stop frequently to maneuver the wagon between crags and outcroppings.

When the land opened into a wide prairie, Nicolai was suspicious, and Nyssa agreed with him.

“We’re in a land of illusions and trickery. How can we know if the grass is real? It may be a lava flow in disguise,” Nyssa pointed out.

“It’s not hot,” Harry held out a hand. “I smell nothing burning.”

“The land could have killed us earlier if it wanted to,” Ron pointed out.

“It isn’t a matter of the land wanting to kill us. We could wander onto someone’s land without knowing. It could be booby-trapped. I would say nothing, but the treacherous land stopped too abruptly for my taste,” Nicolai said.

Ginny hopped down from the wagon where she had been resting and onto the grass. “Looks fine.”

As a unit, they all drew their wands and began doing enchantments, counter-curses, counter-jinxes, and charms. Nothing happened.

“I can’t even see an end to it,” Nyssa said nervously.

“It must be a mirage,” Harry said. “The directions said we should reach a road soon.”

“The directions never mentioned a forest of acid spiders or a field of boulders either,” Ron groused.

“We have no choice,” Hermione finally said. “It’s this or go back.”

“We have provisions and we’re more than capable of taking down game if there is any,” Mikhail reasoned.

“We don’t know if their game is poisonous,” Hermione pointed out.

“We should camp here for the night before setting out,” Ron suggested.

“I agree,” Nicolai said after a moment’s silence. “We should see what happens on the unknown land at night. Then, we move tomorrow.”

Chapter 59

-Severus-
Atlantis was something out of a story. A giant domed city deep underneath the sea, lit by old magic and Atlantean science, its smooth modern-looking architecture and tall structures were combined with magically preserved ancient ruins from when the city fell millennia ago.

Severus and Cynna had not had much time to look around, however. The soldiers had taken them directly to some sort of government building where diplomatic things were sorted out. It was an older structure, and the façade was crumbling. In contrast, the inside was polished stone and coral, obviously put in centuries later.

“We have no record of your intent to travel and we’re not willing to risk our treaties with Jotunheim by opening a portal.” The woman in front of Cynna and Severus shook her head and shuffled greenish papers on the counter. She had a tall gold hairdo and earrings that swung as she shook her head.

“It’s my home!” Cynna burst out, outraged. “I’m not an outsider!”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.” She leveled a look at them. “Feel free to enjoy your stay in our great city.”

Severus made a frustrated noise. “My wife was taken by one of their representatives. She had no choice. Retrieval is imperative. I’m here on behalf of the Ministry of Magic.”

“A kidnapping?” The woman’s forehead creased.

Severus repeated his story about the titan and the escape to Jotunheim.

The woman sucked on her teeth. “You need a diplomatic exemption to pursue this further.”

Severus opened his mouth, but Cynna kicked him.

“How do we get this exemption?” Cynna asked patiently.

“Fill out the proper paperwork,” the woman said as she shuffled papers around on her desk. Her fingers were lightning fast as she snatched up forms. Once she had a sizable pile, she handed it over with pens. “There’s a table over there and when you are done, a lawyer will be appointed to represent you.”

“Thank you,” Cynna said as she wheeled Severus around before he could say anything.

-Hermione-

The night passed without incident. The field was full of fireflies at night, and there were the usual night sounds of small field creatures and other bugs. Harry and Ron took turns keeping watch all night, leaving the others the opportunity to rest.

In the morning they decided to head out over the grasslands. Nicolai and Nyssa had prepared a simple breakfast of berries in flatbread so they could walk and eat and wouldn’t waste any more time having to sit for a meal.

Hermione watched as Harry and Ron climbed up on the cart so they could rest as they travelled. She felt envious as Ginny kissed Harry good night and climbed out of the cart.

“How long until we find the road?” Ginny asked.

“If our maps are correct, within the day,” Mikhail said, scratching one of the unfamiliar tips of his ears.

“Do we want to travel by road?” Nyssa asked.

“I don’t want to stray from the path. Perhaps it is a test,” Mikhail suggested.

“Perhaps it is a trap,” Nicolai retorted.

“I think we should trust our map,” said Hermione nervously. “There’s a village on it as well, isn’t there?”

“A village of what, I’d like to know,” Nyssa said with a sniff.

“It sounds risky,” Ginny said. “Is there any way to go around it?”

“Of course, but it would mean leaving the road, Nicolai said.

“We have a magic cart for a reason,” said Harry from the back of the cart. “I say we go around the village.”

Hermione and Ginny poured over the map while everyone else prepared to leave. The detour looked simple enough, and they wouldn’t have to leave the road immediately.

“I don’t think we should take the road at all,” Ron piped up. “Just find it so we have a landmark and then travel nearby.”

“I think I should trust my future mother-in-law,” Mikhail said firmly. “There are easier ways to get rid of us than sending us off on a quest.”

“Isn’t that the way they do things, though? All the tales say—” Ron started.

“The tales say Asta should have killed me,” Mikhail interrupted. “She should have killed all of us, but she didn’t. Mithrax could have taken custody of her and brought her home, but he didn’t.”

“We should take the road,” Hermione said suddenly. “Asta trusts her mother. She would have said something if she didn’t.”

“So that means the village as well?” Nicolai asked with a sniff.

“We weren’t told anything about the village. It could be marked as a warning,” Harry said.

“We must assume they will have scouts or enchantments that will notify them of our presence,” Nyssa offered. “Avoiding them may give the wrong impression and we can’t afford to cause diplomatic incidents that could affect our world.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Harry said. “We find the road first.”

The open plain was peaceful and beautiful, but it made it easy for Hermione’s mind to wander.

Severus.

She was trying not to think of him or what he was doing. Causing trouble, no doubt.