Chapter 2

A/N: Obviously, these five would never be friends in canon, but looking for work in the post-war rubble that is the Wizarding world has brought them all together.

The Wizarding Job Agency was located at 94 Diagon Alley, just across the street from the infamous shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, one of the few businesses on the street that remained open. That fateful day, as with any other day, Severus marched past its garish exterior and into the blocky concrete building that had once housed a shop for secondhand cauldrons.

The shoddy interior boasted a few fireplaces for making Floo calls, a great deal of parchment for writing resumes, and ten or so owls for delivering them. Very few of the wizards who came to the Job Agency, however, made use of these resources. In fact, Snape noticed, Lucius had already set up the Gobstones game on the table they usually shared with Remus, Hagrid, and old Mad-Eye Moody.

Hagrid and Alastor gave gruff nods in his direction, but Remus said politely,

"Good morning, Severus."

Snape growled at him and carefully raked a few of the cheap stones across the table.

"Trouble with the ex-wife, Severus?" drawled Lucius in amusement, deigning to pause the music on his omnipresent iPod and speak.

"Estranged wife," grumbled Snape irritably, unsure of why he felt compelled to point that out. "But, yes. It would seem that I owe her a great deal of gold that I simply do not have."

Moody heaved an exasperated sigh. "How many times, Severus? How many times have I told you not to be borrowing gold? Especially from that beaver-toothed harridan."

"I didn't borrow anything," he snapped, for Moody's last comment had nettled him. "It's child support she wants. No gold from me, no more visits with Toby."

"Well, Severus," spoke up Lupin nervously as he smoothed the duct-tape on his robes, "perhaps it's all for the best. It never seemed like Toby really benefited much from your outings."

"Of course he fucking did!" Snape slammed his fist down on the rough-hewn table, and the Gobstones streamed their noxious liquid at Remus. "I'm his fucking father."

"Enough," snarled Mad-Eye, pulling Snape back by his robes.

"I expect Dumbledore'd have summat ter say about that," added Hagrid.

"Indeed." Lucius had been watching the melee with disgust. "Is this what we're reduced to? This? I never thought I'd see the day when a Malfoy sat in the Job Agency with werewolves and giants and blood traitors!"

"Oh, my," Lupin put in, ignoring the insult, "you're quite right, of course, Lucius. Here, Severus, have a bit of chocolate. It's perfect for the nerves."

Snape snorted in disgust. "Keep your bloody candy. You can't settle my nerves unless you've got seventy-five Galleons hidden in your pants."

Moody's magical eye whirled. "Sorry there, Snape, but there's not much of anything in Remus' pants. Certainly nothin' valuable."

"Stop looking through my clothes already!" Lupin cast a quick spell on his trousers.

"I expect Dumbledore'd have summat ter say about that!" chuckled Hagrid appreciatively.

"What was the trouble with Hermione, anyway?" asked Moody. "Besides the money."

Snape glowered and said shortly, "Nothing that regards you, Alastor."

"She went to see the Runespoors last Saturday night," Lucius expanded, "and I fear she found them most entertaining. Severus actually spied upon her from the Gent's."

"That's it, my boy, constant vigilance," stated Moody proudly. "What sort of Secrecy Spells did you use?"

Ignoring Alastor, Snape protested loudly, "What of it, Malfoy? She'll only speak to me to tell me what a worthless tosser I've become, but she paid ten Galleons to see Lockhart and his merry band of man-whores."

"Ten Galleons?" Lucius' pale skin had gone even whiter. "Are you certain?"

"I used the Disillusionment Charm to fetch Toby from the pub and overheard Angelina Johnson saying so."

"Disillusionment Charm!" Mad-Eye was positively giddy. "Nothing like it for that sort of work."

"How many women would you say were there?" asked Lucius, eyes narrowed with interest. "A hundred? More?"

"Certainly more. I'd venture to say five hundred. I warrant that place was magically expanded to fit all those whoring witches."

Lucius tossed aside his precious iPod in a display of glee that was rarely seen in him. "But that's five thousand fucking Galleons! Those bloody Runespoors are making a killing. Every witch in Britain turned out for that display."

"Sickening." Moody shuddered. "You, er, didn't see Rita there by any chance now, Snape?"

"I believe she was in the front row," responded Snape coolly, "having a lap dance from Bill Weasley."

Moody's remaining nostril flared dangerously. "I knew I should have followed her. She told me she was off to her Learning Annex writing class over in Knockturn Alley. Crucio!" Snape ducked instinctively and was rewarded with a pat on the back from the spell's caster. "Nice reflexes, my boy. Always on his guard, this one."

"Yes," replied Snape sardonically, "if I wasn't twenty years past my prime, I'd apply as an Auror."

"That is what we must do," declared Lucius. "Moody's wife will stop lying to him, I can do the upkeep on the Manor... "

"The Manor?" asked Snape with a quizzical lift of his eyebrows. "I thought you'd sold it."

"Entailed," grumbled Malfoy, "but, as I was saying, you'll get your son back."

"As what, an Auror?"

"No, you imbecile. As the Runespoors!"

Snape gave a rare laugh. "Now that I'd like to see."

"And so you will. Of course, we'll have a different name and all that, but think of it! Five thousand Galleons. That's a thousand apiece."

"You know, the Runespoors are a set of attractive men rather younger than we," ventured Lupin.

"Exactly. Who'd be paying ten Galleons to see a half-giant who looks like he's got a dead sheepdog for hair, a skinny werewolf with a needle-sized knob, a sixty year old ex-Auror with a false leg, a false eye, and no nose, a greasy-haired git, and a pale aristocrat with spindly legs?" Moody growled. "I can't even get the wife to see it for free."

"Lucius, you're an idiot," cut in Snape dismissively. "Alastor is right; no one in their right mind would pay to see this lot in G-strings."

Lucius scoffed. "That horny lot would pay to see any male flesh they could. Besides, what if we were to... "

"Go off and join the Runespoors yourself, then, Malfoy. I've business to attend to," interrupted the former Potions master brusquely. Snape swept out of the room before the others could inquire as to what 'business' he could possibly have.

* * *

Tapping his foot impatiently, Snape loitered around the white picket fence that surrounded the well-kept home of old Horace Slughorn. Faintly, he could hear the simmering of cauldrons and the occasional explosion as the students within brewed a Calming Draught. At last, the children began to meander out the door toward the waiting group of parents.

Toby stopped short when he saw Snape swooping up the front walk to collect him. "Er... Mum was supposed to get me today. I don't have to go to your house until the weekend!"

"Be that as it may," Snape returned through gritted teeth, "I thought we might do something this afternoon. Maybe go for a butterbeer, just father and son?"

Before Toby could respond, Horace Slughorn himself, getting on in years, though still portly as ever, burst forth from the door. "Well, if it isn't Severus Snape! Been too long. Usually it's Hermione who collects him. I was sorry to hear about your divorce, Severus, that I was."

"We're still married," muttered Snape. "Separated."

"I see. Well, anyhow, your boy's got your talent for potions. Take a look at this Calming Draught!" He extracted a crystal phial from his robe. "Never seen any such from a ten year old, but then again, I never taught one. Your Hermione insisted I take him, though. It seems he's inherited at great deal of talent from the two of you."

Snape nodded. "Thank you." He glanced down at his son, who merely glowered and hugged his schoolbooks to his skinny frame.

"Severus, what the bloody hell?" Hermione stormed toward the small group, wearing the most outraged of expressions.

"I simply came to greet my son," he said as Slughorn vanished into the house. "I was under the impression I had a grace period before I'm barred from seeing him."

"Go wait at the Portkey, Toby." Hermione shooed the little boy away before turning back to Snape. "I know what this is about."

"Do you?" Snape raised a skeptical brow. "Then my Occlumency is not quite as impenetrable as I had thought. No, Hermione, I don't wish to discuss the seventy-five Galleons. Is it a crime to come and see him on occasion?"

Irritated in the extreme to have been outfoxed, Hermione grumbled, "I suppose not."

"Perhaps it wasn't Toby I wanted to see," added Snape smoothly. "I know very well that you come here to collect him in the afternoon."

"Me?" said Hermione dumbly. "Why in Merlin's name would you want to see me?"

"You are my wife, Hermione." Snape rested his hands on her shoulders. "I have every reason to want to see you."

"We're getting divorced," she snapped rudely.

"Are we?" His mouth held the ghost of a smile. "No, I don't think we are." Leaning down, he brushed his hooked nose down her cheek and murmured into her ear in a soft, challenging voice, "I'll never see divorce papers from you, will I, Mrs. Snape?"

"Bugger off." Hermione shoved him away, ignoring the heat that flooded her body at his nearness and especially the wetness that had pooled beneath her scarlet robe. "I've got to get back to work." She stalked off toward Toby and the old paper bag that served as their Portkey.

Snape, in a strangely satisfied mood, Apparated back to Diagon Alley to meet Lucius for a Firewhisky and perhaps to mock him further at his suggestion that they become the Runespoors.