Hexes and Cures

The usual disclaimer goes here: No credit, no money to me.

Thanks must always go to my wonderful betas, JENGEORGE and NervousAboutAngels, for all of their help. And WriterMerrin here at TPP keeps me on my toes as well. Punctuation is the Albatross around my neck. She saves me time after time.

Chapter 25

Hexes and Cures

On Tuesday afternoon at promptly two p.m., Hermione sat in a comfortable high-backed chair in Headmistress McGonagall's office at Hogwarts for their pre-arranged meeting.

"I wish you had come to me sooner, Hermione. Scheduling is a nightmare as it is, but to rearrange everyone's schedule to accommodate yours... Well, I'm not sure I can grant your request. This will only be your first year teaching here. I know you want to spend as much time with Hugo as possible, but Fridays off is out of the question. Even tenured teachers don't enjoy such privileges. Can you imagine the uproar this would create among the staff?"

She continued to rant and rave at the trials, tribulations, pitfalls, and accusations of favoritism that would ensue if she allowed Hermione to skip Fridays. But in the hope of keeping her real goal a secret, she had not given Minerva all of the information. It became plain to her as the Headmistress calmed down that she would need to be in on Hermione and Harry's secret project.

"I don't need Friday's off just for Hugo," she finally admitted. "I'm in the middle of an investigation with Harry, and he still desperately needs my help. He's great at gathering evidence in the field, but when it comes to research, he's a lost cause."

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "A research project for the Auror Department? May I ask the nature of the investigation?"

Hermione glanced past Minerva to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore above her chair on the wall. He appeared to be asleep, as did all of the other portraits, but Hermione knew better. "I'd rather not say here, Minerva. The walls do have ears, after all."

"Well, I never!" exclaimed the portrait of Dilys Derwent.

"How uncouth!" remarked Armando Dippet's portrait haughtily.

"What do you expect from a simple-minded Mudblo..."

"Phineas, that's quite enough!" shouted Albus Dumbledore's portrait.

"Thank you, Albus," Minerva said with a slight nod and obvious fondness. Then she turned back to Hermione. "The portraits here exist solely as advisors and confidants to the current Headmaster. They serve in any way they are capable of, which includes, fortunately, keeping their mouths shut when necessary." She cast a chilling glare at Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait. He simply crossed his arms in front of his chest and huffed. Hermione thought perhaps that he would exit his frame in favor of the one at Harry's house, number twelve, Grimmauld Place, but he stood his ground. She finally concluded that he was too curious about her research project to leave until her intentions had been made clear. Minerva continued, "They are incapable of revealing my secrets to anyone. So anything revealed here today will not go further than this room for as long as I deem necessary."

"I apologize, Mesdames et Messieurs. I meant no disrespect." Hermione looked from face to indignant face. The only one still smiling was, of course, Dumbledore.

"Apology accepted, my dear," he said with his trademark twinkle.

"Speak for yourself!" spat Phineas waspishly.

"Don't worry." Minerva glared once again at Phineas. "You may speak freely here."

And so Hermione explained her saga, from finding Otto Steingold in a foreign city and relaying his story, to the research she was currently involved in, and the fact that a person of interest had been identified, but due to the nature of the charges and the Ministry clout this prime suspect had achieved, it was imperative that the investigation remain top secret.

"And you can't reveal who this person of interest is?"

"I'm sorry. It's not that I don't trust you, but if I'm wrong... I wouldn't want you to think badly of someone for something they haven't done."

Minerva nodded.

Just then, Filch's head appeared in the fireplace. "Headmistress, sorry to interrupt, but Professor Longbottom needs your assistance in the greenhouses right away."

"What has happened?" Minerva asked urgently as she stood and made her way to the fireplace.

"It's Peeves! He's throwing the new seedlings around and making a mess of all the hard work the Professor put in over the summer."

"Oh, dear!" She addressed Hermione. "Please excuse me for just a few minutes. Peeves takes such terrible advantage of Neville's good nature."

With a poof of floo powder, Minerva vanished and Hermione was left alone with Dumbledore and the rest of the portraits. His eyes twinkled at her, and she looked back up at him with love and admiration.

"So good to see you again, sir."

"And since you'll be teaching here in just a couple of weeks, we can have regular visits."

"I would like that."

"I was sorry to hear that you and Mr. Weasley split up."

"Yes, well, it's a long story, but let's just say that we're much better off under separate roofs."

"Thanks be to Merlin he lets you have access to your children."

"Yes, thank Merlin. What an unfair bit of legislation."

"Written by prejudiced pure-bloods, no doubt, as with so many other laws."

"I would have thought that laws such as those would have been overturned after the permanent fall of Voldemort."

"Perhaps you can introduce legislation?"

Hermione chuckled ruefully. "Somehow, I think it was easier to get time off for house-elves than it would be to get equal rights for Muggle-witches and wizards passed and enforced. Besides, I'll have my hands full with teaching and this project for Harry for a while."

"Speaking of which," Dumbledore said with a twinkle, "if you can give us any more information, perhaps we can help. Everard has a portrait at the Ministry as well."

Everard's eyes popped open at the mention of his name. "But Albus, you know that I cannot discuss what I overhear there anymore than I can here."

"Not even if you hear about unlawful behavior?" asked Hermione.

"You must understand, young lady, that we are not always privy to the entire conversation. Since we don't know the circumstances behind a particular action, we may jump to the wrong conclusion. Something may appear to be unlawful, but still necessary for the greater good."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps... But blackmail? What could possibly be the greater good in that?"

"She has a point there," commented Dilys Derwent.

"Do you know who the perpetrator is Everard?" Hermione pleaded her case for his cooperation.

Everard sighed heavily. "I did overhear a suspicious conversation... over twenty years ago. And if the person stands accused before the Wizengamot, I would be allowed to testify, but not until then."

"A great deal of evidence would be needed," added Albus. "The portrait's testimony could not be the only evidence, but it could be one nail in the coffin, so to speak."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Albus," contested Dilys Derwent. "I witnessed a murder in St. Mungo's once, and the guilty party was convicted on my testimony alone!"

"Really?" asked Hermione as her hopes began to rise.

"Your testimony and a mountain of motive and circumstantial evidence," Albus corrected her.

"Yes, but if portraits can testify, then why were you not allowed to help defend Professor Snape?" Hermione asked indignantly.

"That was a very different circumstance, my dear," Dumbledore explained. "You see, a portrait can be a witness to things he or she sees and hears as a portrait, but no portrait has ever given testimony as to the events that took place before he had become a portrait, much less during his own murder. I'm afraid that, as far as I know, I am the only living portrait in existence who was created by an act of violence. No one is certain how such a traumatic event would affect my memories as I transitioned from the living world to the portrait world. There is no precedent set. Therefore, the Wizengamot would require a unanimous vote to allow it for the first time."

"And, although I cannot tell you who spoke of blackmail in the halls of the Ministry all those years ago," added Everard, his voice barely above a whisper," if the guilty party is convicted, perhaps Snape could be exonerated as well."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "I knew it! Oh, thank you, Headmaster Everard!" She turned to Albus, whose eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. "Now I know that I am heading in the right direction with the investigation." A low growl grew in Hermione's throat as she paced the room, thinking of all the horrible things she would love to do to Umbridge. When she stopped pacing, she looked up at Dumbledore, her eyes brimming with tears. "Professor Snape deserved the Order of Merlin, First Class – NOT six months in Azkaban."

"I agree, Hermione."

Dumbledore's use of her given name startled her. She gazed into his crystal blue eyes and noticed – if possible – an extra twinkle.

"I'll see justice done if it's the last thing I do!" She promised to herself as much as to him.

"I hope so, my dear, for Severus' sake, as well as yours."

Hermione's short intake of breath betrayed her secret. "How did you know?"

Dumbledore smiled mischievously. "Severus came here in search of books to help you in your divorce case. We had a chat. No doubt, his feelings for you have only grown since then."

"Have they?" Hermione asked wistfully. "It's hard to tell with him."

"And you care deeply for him as well, yes?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Perhaps not to everyone."

"But he won't let anything happen between us."

"That's because he is not a free man, Hermione."

She knitted her brow and scowled at the painting on the wall. She had to keep reminding herself that the actual wizard wasn't really there. But he seemed so real. "What do you mean by that?"

"As long as the conviction hangs over his head, his life is not his own."

"I'll get it overturned – I swear I will – "

"Tread carefully, Hermione. The person you're after has long arms, very long arms indeed."

*****

Hermione spent the rest of the week at Hogwarts going over her lesson plans and reworking her schedule. As the Headmistress had feared, complaints came pouring in from the other staff members, but McGonagall kept her secret and used Hugo as an excuse. She assured everyone that Hermione's workload was equal to theirs, with extra hall duty during the week to make up for her absence on weekends. She also reminded them that Hermione's schedule would become like everyone else's by the following year because Hugo would then be attending Hogwarts.

This explanation placated almost everyone, with the exceptions of Neville, who was never upset to begin with, and Filch, who would never be happy until he could see miscreants in shackles.

*****

When Friday arrived, Hermione decided that she should establish her routine from the start, so after breakfast in the Great Hall, she went back to her office and floo'd to the Burrow. She knew that the school had sent out its required reading list and there were several tomes that Rose would need, including the new and improved potions text.

When she and the kids entered Flourish and Blotts, she was pleased to see the new text prominently displayed on a front table. But a few of the patrons were currently voicing their displeasure at being forced to purchase the book when they saw nothing wrong with the one from years (or decades) past. One of the parents even refused, saying that his old potions text would simply have to do and the child could take notes if methods of any real consequence came up in class. Hermione felt the need to intervene, knowing that pages and pages in the new text were dedicated to crucial instructions on ingredient preparation, as well as the subtle differences in each recipe and some new ones not even included in the old texts. Thankfully, this seemed to convince the stubborn tightwad to part with a few more Galleons for the sake of his child's education.

Hermione and her children then wandered across the street to the Apothecary shop to pick up an entry-level potions kit for Hugo and some of the more sophisticated ingredients that Rose would need for her second year.

"So, are you excited about starting at Hogwarts this fall, young man?" asked the elderly gentleman behind the counter.

"Well," admitted Hugo sheepishly, "I don't actually start until next year, but Professor Snape..."

"Actually," Hermione cut him off, "we were just going to practice a few simple potions so Hugo can get the hang of the mortar and pestle."

"It's all in the wrist," advised the old man as he mimicked the motion for Hugo and Rose to see.

Hermione smiled sweetly at the man as she laid her Galleons on the counter. But her smile faded as the old man's eyes narrowed. "Severus Snape?" It was more of an accusation than a question. "I don't know what you're up to, Mrs. Weasl – sorry, Miss Granger," he whispered so only she could hear, "but if you care about them, you'll keep Snape away from your children."

With a glare and a huff, Hermione turned and hastily ushered her children out of the Apothecary. She was not about to listen to such tripe, and she didn't want to expose her children to it either.

*****

When Sunday afternoon finally came again, Hermione busied herself with dinner preparation as Hugo begged her endlessly to set up the new cauldron and show him how to work the scales.

"Professor Snape will be here soon, love. He can show you how to set up everything properly." In reality it had been quite a while since she'd had any need to brew a potion. Although she was sure she could remember the procedure, she feared that she would never hear the end of it from her former Professor if she got anything wrong. Besides, this new book elevated ingredient preparation to an art form. She was anxious to watch him teach Hugo, and she hoped Rose could be persuaded to observe as well.

At five p.m. on the dot, the doorbell rang. Hugo ran to answer it.

"Remember he will be Disillusioned," she called after him.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape. So good of you to come," Hermione overheard Hugo say with a formal air. She could almost hear the grin in his voice.

"So good of you and your family to invite me," she heard Professor Snape reply.

"I didn't invite him," grumbled Rose, who was helping her mum in the kitchen.

"Come here, you." Hermione thought she could hear Professor Snape's smile now. "Are you taller? By Jove, I do believe you've grown a centimeter since I saw you last."

"Well, maybe a millimeter or two," Hugo admitted proudly.

"So, are you ready to brew your first potion?"

"No," Hugo admitted with a touch of embarrassment. "I wanted to set up my cauldron and have everything ready by the time you arrived, but Mum told me to wait for you. She said that you were the expert and I should learn the right way to do it from the start."

By then, they had made their way to the kitchen. Snape eyed Miss Granger suspiciously. "In other words..." He leaned over towards Hugo and lowered his voice with a pretense to keep her from overhearing. "... she doesn't remember what to do." He gave Hugo an exaggerated nod. Hugo mouthed an "O" as his eyes widened.

Hermione overheard, of course, just as she was meant to. She shook her head. Damned if I do and damned if I don't'. She dried her hands on the towel at the sink and turned to Professor Snape. Their eyes met, and she could tell that he was genuinely pleased to be here. "I'm so glad you came," she admitted sincerely as they exchanged cheek kisses.

"Wouldn't have missed it." He grabbed her hand and gave it a quick but gentle squeeze as his eyes drank in the warmth of her smile. "May I assist you in any way?"

"Oh, no. I've pretty much gotten it all taken care of, thanks to all of Rose's help." She gave her daughter a grateful nod.

Snape glanced at Rose, who was purposefully looking at anything but him. He smirked. "You're lucky to have such an efficient and knowledgeable assistant. Heaven knows I could have used one at Hogwarts, but the only ones that ever volunteered were dunderheads. They never lasted past their first day." He noticed Rose snicker. He wondered if it was because she had encountered her share of dunderheads at school already or if she felt that no one but a dunderhead would volunteer to help him.

"Actually," Hermione continued, "we were all hoping to see how much difference this new textbook makes."

"Speak for yourself, Mum," Rose said with belligerence. "I think Slughorn's methods are perfectly fine. I'm going upstairs. Call me when dinner's ready."

Hermione's face turned red with rage. She was determined to prevent a repeat of the previous week. "You get back here this instant, young lady!"

Snape raised his hand to calm her down. "Rose, have you acquired your new potions book yet?"

Rose scowled at him. "Got it Friday. It's upstairs."

"And where is your potions kit?"

"At Dad's house."

"No matter. Miss Granger, would you happen to have a cast iron pot you don't need for tonight's dinner preparation?"

"Why, yes, but what..."

"Good. Could you retrieve it for me, please?"

Miss Granger gave him a puzzled look, but stooped down to dig through her cabinet for the requested item.

"Rose, would you mind bringing me your new book?"

If looks could kill, Snape would have dropped dead on the spot. "Get it yourself," she sneered with such skill that Snape was impressed.

"ROSE!!"

Snape's face remained a wall of unreadable stone as he flicked his wand in the girl's general direction.

"OW!" Rose glared hatefully at Snape, but as the pain increased, she glanced down to see what was causing it. A boil was beginning to form on her inner right forearm. "What did you do to me?!"

"It's a boil hex. I thought you might need some incentive to insure your cooperation."

The girl snarled at Snape, then sent her mother a pleading look. Hermione simply raised her eyebrows. "I suggest that you do as you are told."

"UGH!" She turned and ran up the stairs. By the time she returned with the book, Snape had transfigured the cast iron pot into a cauldron and had it set up just to the right of Hugo's on the kitchen counter.

"If you turn to page twenty-three, you will find a recipe to cure boils. I suggest you get busy," he snarled threateningly.

Rose narrowed her lids and opened the book. "Oh, please! I learned this potion on my first day last year. This recipe is the same as the old book."

"The ingredients might be the same, but if you follow the instructions to the letter, you will discover improvements in both taste and efficacy. You can share Hugo's scales and ingredients." He placed the scales and box of little jars on the counter between her cauldron and Hugo's.

Rose snorted. "The old way worked just fine. I'm not changing a thing."

"I thought you might say that," Snape said with his own trademark sneer. He focused his attention on Hugo and left Rose alone to create her inferior brew. Some people just needed to learn their lessons the hard way.

"Now, Hugo, please observe the distance between the bottom of the cauldron and the flame. Some potions require added distance, some need less."

"Can't you just make the flame higher or lower instead of moving the cauldron?"

"Well, in the old book that is the only method taught, but this book shows the subtle differences between flame height, cauldron distance, and the actual surface area of the fire. All of these factors can change the outcome, sometimes in a subtle way, sometimes in a crucial way."

Snape thought he heard the word, "Rubbish," mumbled somewhere to his right, but he continued to ignore the source.

"Now, Hugo, when a recipe calls for crushing an ingredient to release the juices, always use the flat side of your silver knife, like this." He demonstrated for the boy. "And although an oak or cherry board will usually do in a pinch, a tropical hardwood such as teak or ebony has less absorbency and will give you a better yield on your juices." He noticed that the boy's new potion kits contained a standard issue oak board. "I think I have a teak one at home that I can spare. I'll bring it next week."

"Thanks, Professor. That would be great." Hugo gave Snape a big eager grin. He couldn't help but return the smile.

Just then, "Big deal," could be heard in a low grumble off to Snape's right.

Hermione had been watching Professor Snape and Hugo very carefully. She had no idea about the flame size and cauldron distance. And although she knew that the best way to crush most beans was the way the Professor had described, she had never realized that the species of wood in the chopping board could make a difference.

"There!" announced Rose. "Finished in record time."

Snape peered into her cauldron and raised an eyebrow. Hermione also took the time to inspect the contents of Rose's cauldron. "Looks good to me, love." She smiled at her daughter. Rose beamed with pride.

Snape sneered as he watched the girl decant enough for one dose and set it aside to cool.

Snape refocused on Hugo. "Try to crush this Adzuki bean."

The bean turned out to be tougher than anyone expected. The poor kid had to put the chopping board down on the kitchen table so he could get his weight behind him. As he pressed harder and harder, the bean finally popped out from under the knife and shot across the room, hitting Crookshanks in the butt. The cat yowled and hissed, then ran for the staircase. Laughter filled the room at the cat's expense, all knowing that only his pride was hurt. But when Snape turned back to Hugo, he immediately noticed a pool of blood forming on the oak board. The knife had slipped and sliced a deep gash in one of Hugo's fingers. He looked up at Snape, horrified.

"It's alright, Hugo," he cooed softly. "Here, let me see." He carefully took the boy's hand and turned it over. He lightly touched the injured finger with the tip of his wand and hovered it back and forth over the length of the cut as he softly sang the Latin incantation. He waved his wand over the bloody hand and chopping board to siphon off the blood. Hugo stared at his finger in amazement. It was as if nothing had ever happened.

Rose gasped in awe.

Tears began to form in Hermione's eyes. She had never seen such tenderness directed at a child from Severus Snape.

Hugo's face was beaming up at this surprisingly gentle man so full of special magic.

"Better?"

Hugo nodded.

Snape turned and reached out towards the errant bean, and with a silent, wandless spell, it flew through the air and into his waiting hand. "If you have that problem again, here's the solution." He carefully held the bean with his left thumb and forefinger. "If you are trying to crush a bean that has a tough skin, just carefully slice along the outer edge like this," he explained as he demonstrated, "so the outer skin will split." He handed Hugo another bean to try for himself. The boy carefully sliced the outer edge of the bean and then successfully crushed it under his knife. The juices pooled on the board, and he clumsily tipped the board sideways over the cauldron.

"Be sure to scrape the board with the dull side of your knife to get every drop."

"Yes, sir."

"What are you making, anyway?" asked Rose with a snooty tone, "Athlete's foot ointment?"

Snape ignored her rude comment. "Perhaps your potion has cooled off enough for you to test it," he suggested, his tone even and emotionless.

Rose shot him a resentful glance, but reached for the vial. She made a theatrical performance of holding her nose and throwing the potion back. Then she quickly chased it with some water. Everyone watched in anticipation as the boil on her arm began to disappear, leaving behind a faint scar just slightly paler than the surrounding skin.

"See?" she announced proudly, "It worked just fine!"

"But it left a scar," observed Hugo.

"So? Got rid of the boil, didn't it?"

"If you follow the instructions in your new text, not only will it make the scar disappear, but it will taste so good you'll want to come back for seconds." Snape informed the pig-headed girl.

"If you think I'm going to waste my time making that boring, old, simple, first-year potion again, you can take that new book and shove...OW!" Rose's hand flew up to her face as she felt a new welt forming on her cheek. "MUM!"

"Professor, you didn't?" Hermione scowled at her guest. "Her face? She's my daughter, for goodness sake. What have you done to her?"

Miss Granger's concern and growing irritation didn't phase Snape in the least. "Evanesco!" The contents of Rose's cauldron disappeared with a casual flick of his wand.

"What'd you do that for?" Rose bellowed. "You wasted a cauldron full of perfectly good..."

"IMperfect, INferior! A waste of good potion ingredients. You should apologize to your mother for wasting her hard-earned money that way."

Hugo tried without success to stifle a giggle. His sister had bullied him more times than he could count. It was fun to watch someone turn the tables on her for once.

"Ye of little faith." Snape raised an eyebrow at Miss Granger. "She plainly needed more incentive to cooperate."

"You conniving, vicious, hateful... GREASY GIT!" shouted Rose with as much venom as she could muster.

"Why, thank you," Snape replied with velvety smoothness. "Nice to know I haven't lost my touch." He turned to Miss Granger and smiled serenely. "Don't worry. You daughter's face will be restored to its previous pristine beauty after she brews and consumes the new and improved version of that – what did she call it – oh yes, 'boring, old, simple, first-year potion.'" He then turned on his heel and pushed his formidable nose right into Rose's disfigured face. "Page twenty-three," he said with deathly quiet.

The girl swallowed hard and picked up her new text book, turning obediently to page twenty-three.

"And, my dear young lady," he added quietly, the threatening quality replaced with unmistakable playfulness, "if you are successful, I will teach you how to cast that boil hex silently." The last word was uttered just barely above a whisper.

Her mouth dropped open as she imagined all the people she would love to use that hex on. A feral grin spread across her face.

"On one condition," he added in an exaggerated attempt at false secrecy, "You don't tell your mother it was I who taught you."

"Me, too?" asked Hugo anxiously.

Snape nodded as he put his finger to his lips and shot Miss Granger a wary glance. Rose smirked. Hugo giggled out loud. Hermione gave them all a suspicious look out of the corner of her eye, then shook her head with a smile. Perhaps the evening would turn out well after all.

Sure enough, after Rose followed the new recipe to the letter, with a little coaching from Snape on ingredient preparation, the boil on her cheek disappeared without a trace and she didn't have to hold her nose to drink it.

After she took a minute to admire her handiwork in the bathroom mirror, Snape offered to teach her the boil hex.

"Actually, as many bullies and clueless losers as I would like to use that on, I think I would rather learn the spell you used to heal Hugo's finger." She looked up hopefully into Snape's black eyes.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. That was actually a very mature request coming from a twelve-year-old. He hated to disappoint her but... "I'm afraid that's a very advanced and powerful spell."

"But it looked so simple," she insisted.

"Looks can be deceiving. It takes a great deal of concentration and vivid visualization skill, and you must utter the words and melody with precision."

Rose set her jaw in determination. "I can do all of those things. Ask Mum. Ask any of my teachers at school."

"She's like I was, very advanced," admitted Hermione with a proud nod towards her daughter. "But it will have to wait. Now, it's dinner time."

Both kids groaned with disappointment.

"I'll teach you the boil hex after dinner," he promised in an attempt to placate them, "but the healing spell will have to wait until next week."

"And I'm afraid that you..." Hermione directed her gaze at Hugo. "... will not have much success with either until you get your own real wand next year."

"Awe – next year? Why can't I get one tomorrow?"

"Wizarding laws against under-aged magic won't allow it," she informed him. "Sorry, but you will have to wait."

The table was already set, so each person grabbed a component of the meal and carried it into the dining room.

Everyone tucked into the steak and kidney pie, rolls, salad and iced tea. The conversation was sparse, but only because everyone was too busy eating to waste time with idle chit chat. After ice cream parfait for dessert, the table was cleared by all and Snape took the kids into the family room to instruct them in silent hexing techniques. He was pleasantly surprised at how fast Rose caught on, giving him a big welt on the end of his nose after only two minutes of practice. While using Professor Snape's wand, Hugo managed to inflict a small boil on the Professor's right hand, but he had to say the hex out loud to get it to work.

"Don't be discouraged, Hugo. The wand chooses the wizard. Next year when you acquire the one and only wand that is meant for you, it will be much easier. You'll see." Snape then steered the two children towards the computer and made a hasty retreat to the kitchen and Rose's new, improved boil cure.

"Merlin!" Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous bubble at the end of Professor Snape's already over-large nose. After giving her a condescending glare which only made her laugh harder, he grabbed a cup from the cupboard, dipped it into the cauldron and drank heartily. After a moment, the boil popped and vanished, along with the one on his hand.

"I hope she doesn't get herself into trouble with that hex!" Hermione said with a wary look at the responsible party.

"I merely imparted the information, madam. What your children do with their newly acquired knowledge will be a direct reflection on the moral values you instilled in them during their formative years."

"Oh, please!" She rolled her eyes with mock incredulity.

They both chuckled.

By then, Hermione had finished tidying up, and they settled in at the kitchen table, each with a large snifter and two fingers of cognac.

Snape swirled the golden-brown liquid around in the glass and waved it under his nose. "Nice." His eyes narrowed as he took in the relaxed and content expression on his hostess' face. He thought about Winky's prediction. For a split second, he contemplated sharing it with her, but he decided that it would be cruel to give her false hopes, since even Winky wasn't infallible.

He decided to change the subject. He reached into his pocket and pulled out her shrunken case file, then he enlarged it and pushed it across the table.

Hermione looked up at him inquisitively. "So, what do you think?"

Snape shrugged. "Everything in here points to Umbridge."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "That's what Harry and I thought, too."

Snape kept silent for a moment. Finally he said, "If even Potter can see it, then it's too obvious."

Hermione scowled at his inferred insult to her friend's intelligence. "Then who?"

"Could be Umbridge. Could be she has an accomplice. Or... perhaps she is being set up."

"Who would want to frame her?"

Snape scoffed. "Can you think of no one who would like to see her rot in Azkaban?"

Hermione let out a sound that was supposed to be a sardonic laugh, but it sounded more like a grunt. "But most of them are Muggle-borns. I doubt that any Muggle-born would blackmail another just to make the 'Pink Toad' look bad."

"Perhaps this Muggle-born resents the others for denying their true blood-lines and decided to kill two birds with one stone."

"I don't know. I still think Umbridge is involved in some way."

"Perhaps. One thing is certain. You must gather your evidence in complete secrecy. If the guilty party finds out what you are trying to do..."

"I know. They would sabotage the investigation and probably ruin my and Harry's reputations in the process."

"I have an idea that may shed some light on the case and help you be certain that you are on the right track with Umbridge."

"Oh?"

"If you don't mind a bit of espionage on my part." Miss Granger's eyes grew wide with anticipation. "But I would require Potter's invisibility cloak to pull it off."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I'd rather not say. It's not that I don't trust you, but if you don't know anything, you can't get into trouble if my plan backfires."

"How soon do you want it?"

"Could you have it here next Sunday?"

"Sooner, if you'd like."

Snape shook his head. "I'll have some preparations to make, so next Sunday will be fine."

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure Harry won't have a problem with loaning it to you."

They each held their snifters and tapped them together. "To espionage," Hermione suggested.

Snape nodded his consent.

They sipped their cognac in companionable silence for a couple of minutes before Hermione remembered her promise to Kingsley. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have good news and bad news. Kingsley is resigning next week."

Snape's face went slack and his jaw dropped. After a moment of shocked silence, he cautiously crafted his next question, already afraid of the potential answer. "And who, pray tell, will his replacement be?"

"Most likely Umbridge."

Professor Snape grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he emptied his snifter in one gulp and slammed the glass down so hard that Hermione was amazed it remained intact.

"More, please."

She rose and retrieved the bottle from the cabinet. "Help yourself."

"You may regret that," he warned as he served himself a generous portion. "So you have until... next spring to crack the case?"

"She will likely take office in May if we can't build an air-tight case against her by then."

Snape eyed Miss Granger with disdain. "Please tell me that wasn't the good news."

Hermione's face lit up. "No, actually, the good news is that Kingsley wants to open a restaurant that serves food laced with magical potions that will enhance the dining experience."

"And why should I consider this good news?"

"Because he wants you to help him develop the potions that will be added to the food. He wants to offer you a job!"

Snape scoffed. "I would sooner live in poverty than work in a restaurant cooking food for the masses. Tell him to hire a house-elf."

Hermione shook her head and sighed in exasperation. "No, you wouldn't work in the restaurant; you'd help him develop undetectable potions that could enhance the food magically, and you would probably need to supply the restaurant with those potions. The chefs would then add the required dose to each entrée. You need never set foot in the place if you don't want to."

"Oh," Snape relaxed his defensive posture a bit. "Well in that case, I won't guarantee my cooperation, but it sounds interesting enough to meet and hear what he has to say."

Hermione beamed at him. "Kingsley will be very happy."

"He's almost too happy most of the time. I don't know how long I can stand to be around him, but I'll give it a try."