Coffee, Gods, and Sisters

Chapter 6: Coffee, Gods, and Sisters

"I can't get started this morning."

"I'm having the same problem, dear; those brats have hidden the cappuccino maker."

"We have to make them pay for this. What do you think of slow roasting followed by grinding their beans?"

"I know what to appeal to," said the editor. "It's a favorite of writers. The Greek playwrights used it all the time."

They crossed their wands and spoke words of power.

Crack!

"Vengeance Ith Mine," saith Deus Ex Machina Caffeinarum.

"They Thall Be Ground To Duth," saith Deus Ex Machina Caffeinarum.

"Their Headth Thall Be On A Pike," saith Deus Ex Machina Caffeinarum.

Harmony and the editor looked at each other. "Oopth."

Meanwhile, blissfully unaware of their impending doom, Biff produced cups of foamy elixir while Snorri tried his hand at depicting a mature relationship.

"I did not bring you along to charm the pants off the shop girls."

"I was merely listening sympathetically."

"Your 'listening sympathetically' will get you in the knickers of half the witches in England."

"They're both married."

"That hasn't slowed you down yet."

"That's not fair, Cissy. Besides, their major complaint, their only real complaint, is that the store is understaffed, their hours are long, and they're not getting home in the evenings in time to take care of their husbands and families."

"Oh, Sev, I know that. Our shops are making contributions to the Dark Lord, and they're all in financial straits. I don't know what to do. Our customers expect that shop to be open for them, and they expect adequate staff to give them the service they deserve. I can't afford more help, and I can't afford to lose those two girls. Those girls have been there ten years; they know all the customers and all their quirks. They're paid very well."

"My profession may be betraying me, love, but in Potions, one competent person is worth ten dunderheads. I would reduce the store hours and keep the girls."

It was mid-morning after the evening in which Professor Snape had stolen Mrs. Malfoy's virtue.

The first thing Severus had faced was a rant.

"I hope you had your fun," she had said. "I suppose you're going to run back to my sister. I suppose you think that cow is a better bed-warmer." She had flung herself across the sheets in despair. "Go ahead. It won't bother me. I'm just a skinny rich-bitch."

"Didn't you hear anything I said to you? Didn't you believe any of it?" he had said as he coaxed Cissy to her half of the bed, climbed in, and pulled the covers over them. She had held him, alternately sniffling that she was a poor specimen of womanhood and murmuring with the animal satisfaction of being cuddled before falling asleep in his arms.

He had lain awake for a while wondering if things could get any crazier – had decided it was a stupid question.

He had woken to find her sitting in bed and looking at him thoughtfully.

"Severus, I need help," she had said.

His first thought had been, yes, she needed to sleep later, and then, for a few terrible seconds, he had been certain the Black sisters wanted him to help settle some bloody awful feud.

"I realize you must work at least sixty hours a week as a professor, and you have duties for the Dark Lord, but I'm going spare taking care of all the businesses and investments," Narcissa had said.

"I'm a Potions professor, not an investment advisor."

"You're a friend, and I need help. Just come with me for moral support. I know it's a lot to ask, but I do need you."

"I can try, but I can't promise anything," he had said.

There was less of an explosion from Bellatrix than Severus had feared when Narcissa had announced at the breakfast table that Severus would be spending most of today, and numerous other days, with her as she made her business rounds.

Bellatrix had examined the breakfast item on her fork, "I have to make do with this little sausage and you get a big fat one."

"Bella, we have to take care of the estate, or it won't take care of us," Narcissa had said.

"I understand perfectly, sister dear, especially about all the care a Malfoy ass-set needs," Bellatrix had said. "Obviously, you're starting with the cherry orchard."

"You're impossible," Narcissa had said. "Well, it can't be helped. Severus and I will be on our way."

Now, after beginning with a visit to a fabric and clothing store, Severus and Narcissa were having tea and biscuits before visiting a potions and apothecary shop.

At the shop, Narcissa greeted the manager and proceeded to the warehouse office while Severus remained to talk shop with the manager and his two assistants. When he joined her, she was looking over the warehouse book and the sales book and frowning.

"Oh, Sev, I'll never be able to make sense of this mess."

"We need to match these entries against what's in the warehouse," said Severus.

"We have the receipts," said Cissy.

"Let me think," said Severus. "Sales versus expenditures isn't a good tracking tool because the store manager and his assistants are good brewers. They can make expensive potions from cheap ingredients."

"We don't want to track the manager and his assistants closely because they're artisans who take pride in their work. Close scrutiny would have an adverse effect," said Severus.

Narcissa felt a tingling that puzzled her.

"Ingredients," announced Severus. "Everything that comes into the warehouse goes out over the counter, either by itself or in a potion. We could cast a spell that monitors the ingredients in everything on the retail shelves and everything sold. That plus what's in the warehouse should equal the total bought."

He waved his wand and lines appeared in the air. "My first thought is that we want three columns. There're the bulk materials in the warehouse; there're the retail packages and finished products on the shelves; and there're the items that have been sold. Perhaps a fourth column would help, one that translates shelf items and the sold items into their basic constituents, the warehouse item."

"Okay," said Narcissa.

"I'm going to need help, Cissy. I can't keep all this in my head and the spell going at the same time."

"You're great at visualization," said Narcissa, admiring the skeleton for the spell hanging in mid-air. Could I read the list of materials we buy while you place them in the first column?"

Halfway through the list, she said, "The older materials are in alphabetical order, but the newer ones were added to the list as we decided to acquire them."

"We'll get them all up first," said Severus. "Then we can order them."

Narcissa read the rest of the list.

"I think we need three things," said Severus. "We need to order this list; we need a spell to add new items; and we need to extend the ordering-spell to include the new items."

"One thing at a time, Severus, I like that," said Narcissa, feeling a strange warmth in her undergarments, one that she had never experienced outside a bedroom or moonlight.

"I was in that new bookstore the other day, and it had a compendium of utility spells that I bought. One of them is a simple-minded thing called a 'bubble-sort.'" He explained it to Narcissa. "I'll try to keep the visual spell going while you do the sorting-spell."

Narcissa waved her wand. "This is kind of fun," she said, watching the items rearrange themselves.

They finished the spells for the first column and began on the second column.

"I couldn't do this by myself," said Severus.

Narcissa Malfoy smiled, put her hand on his shoulder, and felt strange stirrings inside her.

The transformation spell used by the second column needed all the potions made by the shop along with the ingredients for each of them. Narcissa thought listing all these items would be tedious in the extreme, but she found working with Severus ameliorated her normal impatience. He would sigh with relief after each potion and its constituents were added, and she would pat his shoulder in commiseration and smile at a brilliant professor doing the donkey work of bookkeeping.

When the second column was finished, Narcissa was feeling elated and uncomfortable at the same time. She excused herself for the loo where she discovered the reason for her confusion. "You just soaked your knickers over an advance in inventory," she told her reflection in the mirror. "Isn't it amazing how romantic gestures will turn a girl's head? No doubt you'll squeal if he balances the books." She consoled herself with the thought that the real cause was the enthusiastic participation of a desirable wizard working with her. For the first time in her life, she was a real partner.

She decided it would be better if he didn't know the effect he was having on her. After all, she didn't know what he thought about her. He had been considerate last night, but it was possible he was only taking care of his lover's sister before she had a case of 'female hysteria' and brought the Manor down. He had been attentive, even loving, and had spent the night with her, but now, as she recalled the evening, he had not had a climactic moment and he had not made any attempt on her virtue this morning while they were both in bed. Her stomach went hollow at the thought that he was merely being kind. She told herself that she was married and he was involved with her sister and it was foolish to entertain fond thoughts about him. So thinking, she brushed her hair until it was sleek and trim and checked her makeup and attire before returning to the storeroom where he was waiting.

He smiled at her when she returned, and she found herself floating over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders, and saying, "I suppose you've been thinking about the poor condition of our stores."

It was time to pull another rabbit out of the Victorian hat. "The Malfoy hand lies lightly upon the wizard world," he said. "No store or workshop has 'Malfoy' in its title, and banking is in the hands of the goblins. The only complaints are long hours and lack of maintenance since the Dark Lord returned, a connection the shopkeepers have not made by the way. The burden of supporting the Dark Lord has not yet been evenly spread – it has fallen upon those with ready cash, implying that considerable Malfoy assets cannot be readily converted into wizard currency, at least not without attracting unwanted attention, not to mention the unfavorable exchange rate the goblins offer for converting non-wizard money to wizard money."

Cissy sounded both impressed and sad when she said, "It's obvious you've deduced the rest of it. A long-lived family has made careful investments in the thriving non-wizard economy, which brings up questions about why such a family would want to attack the non-wizards."

She looked into the distance. "I know what you're thinking, and you may as well say it. The rich get the poor to give them their money by concocting an external threat that scares the shit out of them – the end of civilization as we know it. We're not going to get their money by being that threat."

Her fingers dug into his shoulders. "You may as well say it as have me say it for you. We've been bloody awful stupid. Don't sit there looking understanding, either, damn you. I'm not asking for your pity. This whole thing is hind-end foremost, and the last thing I need is your smirking superiority. Why don't you just tell me that we've made a muck of it, and get it over with, you sorry-assed, snotty bastard?"

Severus turned to face an enraged Narcissa. He said, "People do place their fortunes and lives at risk for what they believe."

"I don't need that, you pompous twit."

"What do you need?" he asked. "For me to get excited and yell back at you, to have a screaming match that clears the air?"

"I don't need that psychological crap, either. Can't you just say that everything's fucked up, like a real man would?"

"I don't think everything's a mess," he said. "You're keeping everything going."

"How would you know? You spend one morning looking at two shops, and suddenly you're an expert?"

There seemed to be no alternative. Severus stood and roared, "Why are you yelling at me? I'm trying to help. I didn't make one critical remark. I'm not the one who got you into this pickle."

"You don't have to shout."

"The hell I don't have to shout," he shouted. "If I don't yell back at you, you'll never calm down."

Narcissa considered the matter. "Are you going to leave me now? Now that you know I'm a bitch with a temper."

Severus stepped close, took her hand, and was suddenly behind her. She heard him whisper, "I might like that. I might like a fiery girl."

She felt possessive arms go around her and pull her close. "You're what I want." She moaned.

She felt his warm breath as he nibbled his way down her neck and nipped her shoulder through her blouse. "I want to have you." She did a slow writhe against him.

She placed her hands over his as his strong fingers took control of her breasts. "I want all of you." She leaned her head back and made small animal sounds.

He held her hands in his as they slid down her side, over to the juncture of her legs, up over her navel, and back to her breasts. "I want to take you." She brought his hands to her lips and mouthed his fingers.

His fingers massaged her temples. "You'll be mine." She leaned against him and sighed.

He nuzzled the back of her neck. "Let me have you." Narcissa bent over the desk and looked back at him fondly.

He ran his hands up and down her back. "Show me how lovely you are." She budged her skirt around her waist.

He stroked her hair. "Show me everything." Narcissa pushed her knickers down and moved her legs till they dropped to the floor.

He looked into her bright, intelligent eyes. "Offer yourself, sweetie." She was breathing deeply; she spread her legs.

He kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. "You're lovely." Narcissa moaned as he parted her and slowly slid into her.

He moved in and out of her. "You're the girl for me." She could hear her slimy slickness.

He made the confident strokes. "Give me what I want." Narcissa groaned with his coupling.

He gripped her offered softness. "You have what I want." She began her mating slither.

He gazed at the aristocratic face. "I'm getting what I want." She was wide-eyed as he plumbed her.

He listened to her soft panting. "I like having you." Narcissa's world was turning sweet.

He enjoyed the liquid slaps of his coupling. "I'm taking you." She thought everything smelled wonderful.

He watched her fingers knead the desk. "Give yourself to me." She wanted the moment to last forever.

He stopped and held his witch. "I have you." Narcissa became aware she was having an orgasm.

"Honestly. You'd think that two people tanked with cappuccino could do better," said Harmony.

The editor nodded in agreement. "The boys are letting us down. As per usual, it's up to us. And all we have is our triple espressos from the corner shop."

"They Thall Eat Mud In The Afterlife," saith Deus Ex Machina Caffeinarum.

"Quite," said the editor.

How easy it is, when describing intimate encounters, to overlook the quieter interludes in favor of the more lurid encounters where the fire consumes the pair, making a spectacle that is ripe for display by the wordsmith who wishes to easily capture his audience and let them, in a rush of their own emotion, imagine, often falsely, that such an all consuming conflagration can continue, when, in actuality, the bonfire quickly dies, leaving ashes, while it is really the more somber flame that warms the relationship and reaffirms that, even if passion is less high than the moon and perhaps because it does not enter orbit, it is a devotion that remains vibrant and strong, and thus it was, after Cissy had regained some semblance of rationality after Severus's verbal and physical declaration of his longing for her, that she rose and guided him to a chair where she straddled him with a presentation of her most intimate self, took him inside her in a calm manner that proclaimed their union more fervently than any impassioned impaling could ever possibly convey, and then, with a quiet dignity born of her complete surrender, begged him with her gentle kisses to make love to her as she offered herself as best she could, which, in all honesty, might strike some of our dear readers as a feeble effort since, remaining honest, it must be confessed that Narcissa Black had arrived in the world with the soul of a reptile and an observer might well question if there was any romance at all in the flickering tongue of her kisses and the primal, undulating slither of her body, but if the spectator had been able to see into that diminished organ, she would see that it was still the heart of our own fair kind and hence, able to beat strong enough to forge a link and possibly, in this case, because her lizard heart did not completely overwhelm her reason, it combined with her higher faculties to form a union based on the wizard's acceptance of her as an intelligent and competent woman, and the steel of this link, skeptical reader, is built of two people struggling together against the world and not to be underestimated, and it is in this light that we must interpret the sincerity of Cissy's flickering kisses, murmured endearments, and sensuous slithers as she sought with all her being to entice her wizard of choice into completing the impregnation ritual of their mating, and it is in this light that we must sadly note the propensity of our poor sex, even those with a reptilian heart when their one true soul-capturing wizard is between their legs, to succumb to the act of making love to the point where the flickering nibbles can become consuming kisses, the murmured endearments can become the whimpers of lust, and the controlled slither can become the writhing of a woman lost in passion, and once again the world became sweet for our helpless heroine as she realized she was having another orgasm, but to her relief, her beloved was not unaffected and he exhibited the unmistakable grips and moves of a wizard about to complete the possession of his lady, and his lady rejoiced as he surrendered to a witch that he admired for all her qualities, a witch he accepted as an equal partner in their journey even though he viewed this last episode as the final derailment of the original plan to stay with the Black sisters only until their husbands escaped from prison, which would surely happen given the incompetence of the Ministry, and then relinquish them, and with the aid of potions, let them and their spouses spread the spores among the enemy, but he had become attached to Bellatrix as a worthy companion, who, overly dutiful as the eldest sister and misled by youthful longings, had committed crimes that a clear-headed, capable adult now regretted, and he was becoming equally attached to Narcissa with her competence, reservoir of anger, and cool manners, and he was anticipating more days of mutual effort toward worthy goals and more bouts of the intimate and satisfying nature of her subdued passion to the point of deliberately encouraging the capable and lush lady in his lap to bond with him and to the point of hoping that she felt a relationship with him would enrich her life beyond anything she could previously imagine.

"Theveruth Thnape Ith A Wuth," saith Deus Ex Machina Caffeinarum.

"What?" said Harmony.

"Theveruth Thnape Weareth White Boxerth With Yellow Daithieth," saith Deus Ex Machina Caffeinarum.

"Severus Snape is a refined and worthy gentleman," said Harmony.

"Oh, dear," said the editor.

"Did you hear a funny noise upstairs?" asked Snorri.

"Naw, keep writing," said Biff.

Severus heard a shriek and ran to the house, arriving in the foyer the same time Bellatrix did.

"I told those servants to move that barrel of ice water," said Bellatrix. "Cissy, you're drenched. You're shivering so hard you can't even hold your wand for a warming spell."

Severus used his wand to dry and warm Narcissa and turned to Bellatrix. "You've been a bad witch. You deserve a spanking."

Bellatrix squeaked and ran to hide in her bedroom with Severus in hot pursuit. Narcissa decided her sister was taking everything better than anyone could expect and Severus was rising to the occasion like a true gentleman. The day with Severus had left her content as never before; she could let her sister have her fun and games and spend the night with him. Besides, sleeping together was silly, bourgeois, and dashed inconvenient. She had never condoned it before, and she didn't know what had possessed her last night. At any rate, she knew that she now had herself and the situation under control.

"You had him last. He gets to spend the night with me," Narcissa found herself saying in the reading room after dinner.

"Nonsense," said Bellatrix. "You had him today, too. I saw the look on that smug puss of yours. And he left me to spend last night with you."

"I've had to put up with your smug puss for weeks, not to mention all the noise you make while you re-enact Custer's Final Fling," said Narcissa.

"Well, your Little Swiss Miss was yodeling from the highest mountain," said Bellatrix.

"I was a proper Victorian lady, unfairly taken advantage of," said Narcissa, "and you can be his little heifer tomorrow night."

"I'm not his little heifer. I'm a thoroughly-bred thoroughbred that carries him off into his sunset," said Bellatrix. "And the fact remains that you had him last night."

"Fine, you can have him tonight," said Narcissa storming off. "He can cram his cock up your thoroughly-bred ass for all I care."

"Sing to me, O muse, of the anger of Narcissa –

The crashing storm that scares the stranger,

The virulent revenge that shakes the villa –

Earth-shaking, ball-busting: bits are in danger."

"Whatever are you muttering about?" asked Bellatrix.

"We've got to get this on a rational basis," said Severus.

"Why? What for? Cissy and I would die if we couldn't squabble."

It was the collateral damage that worried Severus.

"You don't think we're getting a caffeine high, do you?"

"I don't know. Brew another round, and let's see where it takes us," said Biff.

"Hello, boys," said a sultry voice.

Um, hello," said Biff. "And you are?"

"And I am? You just called me: 'Sing to me, O muse.' I heard it clearly, and here I am: A-1 muse, at your service. This was about vengeance, was it not?"

"Well," said Snorri.

"Don't tell me you invoked me for nothing," said the muse, sounding petulant.

"Um, we're getting there. We're getting there. And when we get there, we want it to be really good. That's why we called you," said Biff.

The muse's brow clouded.

"We could use your help on the way," said Snorri quickly. "After all, half the punch is in the build-up."

"I do remember the slow burn leading to Achille's snit," said the muse. "Let's get with it. Where's the inspirational stuff?"

"The what stuff?"

"Your amphora of wine," said the muse. "By the gods, I miss getting smashed with Aeschylus. After two amphorae, I used to run through the hills under the full moon tearing apart goats, or maybe it was little boys – things weren't very clear at the time."

"We have this," said Biff, trying to keep his hands from shaking as he handed her a cup of cappuccino.

She took a sip and paused. "This might tide me over. Which do you prefer, the spirit above your shoulder whispering in your ear or the more spirited lady in your lap whispering in your ear?" She smiled in remembrance. "Aeschylus was a lap type, but we haven't seen his equal in ages."

The muse skimmed the last several paragraphs. "I have sisters, too, you know."

Biff took pen in hand.

Sharp slivers of sunlight cut through the windows and then through the open door frame as the golden ray that was Padma Patil entered the bookstore.

"Hi, Biff."

He gave her a nod cooler than any darkened shadow.

The sails of her hope disappeared beneath an ocean of pain. Picking a random book off a shelf, she sank into a chair. Perhaps he was just busy, but he could have at least smiled. She had loved the way he had been smiling and saying, "Hello, Padma," but now he was cold to her, and she had no idea what she had done or failed to do. Everything had been going so well, and a serious, studious girl who once had the wind beneath her sank into a chair with her breath taken away.

At a loss for what to do, she looked at the books someone had piled on the table between her chair and an empty one – My Sister, My Self; Chicken Soup for Sisters; and If I Am Hexed or Cursed: A Sister's Story. An attractive, older witch returned carrying When Blood Is Thinner than Water: The Disowning Family. Padma decided that speaking to strangers was less painful than dwelling on her own problems.

"I have a sister, too," said Padma.

"I have two, one older and one younger," said the stranger.

"We're twins," said Padma. "We look alike, but we don't act the same."

"My sisters and I act differently, too," said the stranger.

"I'm Padma, by the way, Padma Patil. I keep wishing I could get in touch with my sister and talk the way we did when we were younger."

"I'm Andromeda Tonks, and I keep wishing the same thing."

Padma smiled at the common ground, and then it hit her who the stranger was. The shock must have shown on Padma's face because Andromeda said, "Yes, my sisters are Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy, and we've become quite different."

Under ordinary circumstances, Padma might have fallen silent, but the price of not continuing this conversation was to return to the unbearable pain of dwelling on Biff snubbing her, and she said, "Do you think it's hopeless? I sometimes think it's hopeless with my sister, but my better judgment keeps telling me it's a phase. After all, we are sisters. We had so much growing up together."

Andromeda smiled sadly. "We had lots and lots growing up together – all the sisterly love and hate, all the confidences and betrayals. It all seems so silly now, but I wish I could get it back."

Padma was grasping at straws, anything to keep talking to this kind lady, anything to keep from thinking about Biff. "I know this is farfetched, but our Potions master seems to be a friend of the Malfoy family. Maybe he can find out what Mrs. Malfoy thinks."

"That's very considerate of you, Padma, but it is farfetched."

"May I buy you a tea," said Padma. "I've had enough of this bookstore for a while."

Something of Padma's desperation must have come through because Andromeda gave her a quizzical look, glanced at her own selections, and said, "I agree. Bookstores can be very depressing at times."

Biff didn't know whether to be happy or sad that Padma finally left the store. His emotions had played him false, and he was attracted to someone who didn't care for him. He desperately wanted to her to just be near, but her cool indifference to him was tearing him apart – pretty girls have hearts made of stone.

Over tea, Padma talked about her and her sister trying to establish their own identities when they were young while, at the same time, constantly borrowing each others clothes and jewelry. Andromeda reminisced about how she and her older sister were of similar build compared to a slimmer younger sister. The two older sisters used to tease the youngest sister by having mock fights about borrowing each other's too-small lingerie while the youngest sister fumed over her undeveloped figure. Andromeda sometimes wondered if Narcissa still had a complex about it. Padma smiled at the clever baiting and agreed that they had been quite cruel.

Andromeda talked for a while about her daughter growing up alone, her recently becoming an Auror, and while she was proud of her, her inclination to volunteer for dangerous assignments.

Padma stood up. "There's Professor Snape. He's leaving the bookstore." Padma waved.

To Andromeda's surprise, based on what she knew about the cantankerous twit, Severus strolled over to the pair.

"Good morning, Miss Patil."

Andromeda stood. "Andromeda Tonks." She shook his hand. "Please join us. I hear you have been accompanying my sister."

"It's moral support," said Severus. "I merely tag along as Mrs. Malfoy audits the stores."

"That's not what I heard," said Andromeda.

"The people in the stores take me too seriously," said Severus. "They're constantly pulling me aside to give me their suggestions and complaints, hoping I'll convey them to Mrs. Malfoy in a discreet manner."

"Do you?" asked Padma, becoming fascinated by her professor's other life.

"He does very well from what I've heard," interjected Andromeda. "But do you have time for all this in addition to teaching?" she asked Severus.

Padma was thinking Andromeda was following her sister's life quite closely.

Severus was silent.

"Ah, very good, Professor, you don't want to tattle that my sister is using you and wearing you out," said Andromeda.

"I'd protest, but I can see the both of you are too clever for me," said Severus.

"He has assistants at school," said Padma.

"Yes, you told me," said Andromeda. "But my sister is very good at asking for help." She considered the situation. "Perhaps I can help at school, too. After all, even though we're estranged, you're doing my sister a favor. The Black family owes you."

"There is some extra funding, but the pay is minimal, and there may be obstacles for outsiders," said Severus.

"Are you afraid of adult women, Professor Snape?" asked Andromeda.

Padma's eyes popped open.

Severus appeared to give it some thought. "That is a hazard of the profession, too much time amongst youngsters. And protocol demands that we avoid seductresses."

"My, what a flatterer," said Andromeda. "Wherever did you get your silver tongue?"

"Academic politics," said Severus.

"Do you think your silver-tongued politics could wrangle you an adult assistant who's not preoccupied with her studies?" asked Andromeda.

Severus was thinking Andromeda Tonks might not be a pureblood snob, but she was definitely a Black sister.

Padma was nodding yes at Professor Snape. She rather liked Andromeda.

He would always wonder if he had agreed out of curiosity, a chance to observe all three of them.

Andromeda Tonks originally appeared for work early in the morning, causing Severus to conclude the entire Black family was afflicted, but she changed to the afternoon when she discovered the joys of working with Padma Patil and Hermione Granger. There was so much to talk about: families that didn't understand, sisters with different values, the shortage of eligible wizards, and officious Potions masters.

One afternoon, Andromeda appeared melancholy, and the girls persuaded her to stay for dinner at the castle. No one would notice an extra plate among hundreds of voracious teenagers. After Mrs. Tonks left, Hermione snuck Padma into her common room. There was much to talk about.

"She says her husband neglects her."

"I'm still gobsmacked. 'Stately beauty' actually applies to her."

"How did Andromeda fall into this?" asked Snorri.

"I don't know. She just dropped out of the blue like a dragon pouncing on a golden plot-point," said Biff.

"I wasn't aware we had any golden plot-points," said Snorri. "It's another witch in the brew; Harmony is going to kill us."

"No, just carve 'Hermione' on our peckers," said Biff.

"I wish you hadn't said that," said Snorri.

"Is it revenge time, yet?" asked the muse.

"Care for another round of foamy inspiration?" asked Biff.

"You can't live like this."

"Yes, I can. I found a dry cave. I have a winter's supply of smoked elk."

"You're running with the wolves and hiding from the Yellowstone Park Rangers."

Her eyes were sweeping the landscape for a small herbivore for dinner.

"A doctoral candidate at the University of Montana already has a dissertation on the change in wolf behavior. There's debate on whether it's best described as urban-pack or uber-pack."

"The wolves do seem to be doing better," she said.

The Dean of the Denver School for Magic wished her a good hunt. Half the faculty wanted to bring her in for de-hexing after her trip to England. He thought Misako Ogami had fallen in love late in life after deciding it would never happen to her. He had seen stranger behavior from smitten witches.