Part Four

Babbity Git, Part Four

~Drinking Partners~

Severus had been alone for most of his life, and had felt very alone for a great deal of it. Certain moments of despair stood out over others: when his mother died, when he called Lily a Mudblood, receiving the Dark Mark, All Hollow's Eve, killing Dumbledore.

In all those times, he had never felt so helpless.

"It's bad, isn't it?"

He turned to face her at last. "Where's the whisky?"

"Oh, I knew it!" she said, fretting with the hem of her shirt. "I'm going to die and you're afraid I'll take the secret to my grave."

"Whisky is still the best thing for snakebite," he explained, looming over her. "So where is it, Miss Granger?"

"Stop calling me Miss Granger. It makes me sound like a librarian." She pointed to the kitchen area. "It's under the dry sink."

Severus narrowed his eyes and glared at her. "It can't be. I checked there."

"I know," Hermione replied, reclining on her elbows. "Milky Joe told me. I put it there after you looked."

He gave her a hard stare, which she returned in kind, and walked over to the dry sink. Pulling the cabinet door open, he crouched down and saw that there were at least a dozen bottles on the shelf. He plucked one out, opened it, and drank from it.

"Hey," she said. "I thought that was for me."

"Just making sure it was still good." He poured a measure in one of the coconut tea cups.

Crossing the room, he handed the cup to her. "Drink up, it won't hurt you."

She tipped the cup to her lips and drank. And kept drinking.

"Be careful with that," he said, putting a cautioning hand on her arm. "You'll ruin your amateur standing."

"I'm part French, Mr Zabini," Hermione said as she lowered her cup with a sigh. "My relatives started me on wine mixed with water when I was six." She held out her cup for a refill. "But I don't believe in excessive drinking." She knocked back her whisky in one gulp. "Especially in front of children."

"Ah," he said, to humour her. He was still amazed at her deft handling of a beverage that took most wizards years to get used to. Firewhisky had a real kick.

"Did you know I'm a war hero?"

Severus nodded.

"I'm a war hero," she repeated and held out her cup for another refill. He topped it off for her. "So I went to all the Ministry dinners. They had martinis before dinner, white wine with the fish, red wine with the main course, champagne with dessert, cognac with coffee, and port to finish."

He wondered if Narcissa Malfoy organised the menus. Her kind always floated to the top, regardless of guilt. "Sounds divine."

She drank her cup dry and held it out again. He poured a measure in, and looked at the mostly empty bottle. He'd have to open another one soon.

She took a delicate sip that held him transfixed. Until she fanned herself.

"Is it getting hot in here?" she lolled back at a strange angle and raised her bandaged leg to the ceiling. "Ooooo, it's getting hot in here. Isn't it getting hot in here?" She peered blearily up at Severus.

He guided her around to lie on the bed properly again. "Now, you mustn't move so much. Just lie there quietly."

"I bet you think I'm an iceberg."

Severus was mesmerised as she sat up and twisted herself into a pretzel to take a sip from the coconut she held under her knee.

"Do you know how old I am?" she asked.

"No." He wasn't lying. He'd have to stop and calculate it to actually know.

"To tell the truth, I've read more than five thousand books. I keep track of them in a notebook. I speak four languages, including Gobbledegook, but Mermish gives me a headache. I play the piano very well." She wiggled her fingers. "And I cook a brilliant soufflé."

"That's very interesting." He took another drink from the bottle, emptying it.

"Do you know where Sofia is?"

"That's in Bulgaria, isn't it?" he asked, a little unsure.

"No," she said, sitting up straight. "It's in Bulgaria."

He stood up and went to the dry sink to fetch another bottle. On the way back, he noticed the girls watching them in the window. He walked over to it.

"Miss Granger isn't feeling well," he said and drew down the blackout shades.

He sat down by the bed, and filled the cup she held up.

She sipped a little, looking at him over the edge, a half-smile on her lips. "I had a boyfriend once."

"Really?" asked Severus. He wondered where she was going with that random comment.

"He kissed like a fish. Do you kiss like a fish, Walter?" She leaned closer to him.

Walter? Oh, yes. That was him. Walter Zabini.

"I've never kissed a fish," he replied.

She nearly spit out the whisky she was drinking, she was laughing so hard.

"All right, you've had enough," he said trying to take her cup away.

She collapsed back onto the bed, taking her cup out of reach. She raised her bandaged leg into the air and pointed her toes. "Viktor never would have done what you did to my leg."

"With fish lips like his," Severus muttered. "How could he?"

She sat up and put a hand on his shoulder. "I liked what you did to my leg. The last part, I mean," she said earnestly. "Tell me, I want to know. How did my blood taste?"

"Delicious," he said, reaching for her cup again. "Now, come on, you've had..."

"No," she interrupted, pulling her cup out of his hand. "No no no no, I'm being serious. What did it taste like?"

He gave her an exasperated look. "How would I know? I'm not a vampire."

She was slurring her words together. "Wawawas it salty?"

He thought about it for a moment. "A little salty, yes."

A look of horrified dismay passed over her face. "Not too salty?"

"No, it was just right." Severus felt as if he had landed in a perverted version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed, tears welling in her eyes. "You thought it was too salty, I can tell. You didn't like it."

He glanced over and saw the girls standing in the open doorway. The little snoops. "I liked it."

"Really?"

He stood up and crossed to the door as he spoke. "Yes, I liked it."

She slumped in the bed, looking forlorn. "You're not just saying that?"

"No, it was brilliant blood!" he said, then turned to the girls. "Go play Foxy or something. Go on." He shut the door on them.

Outside on the deck, the girls looked at each other in helpless misery.

Elisabeth clutched her hands into fists at her side. "I'm going to kill that bloody snake!"

She ran off down the path to the lagoon.

"Elisabeth!" Annie called after her. "Come back here!"

~Not a Snake~

Inside the hut, things took a turn for the surreal. Well, the slightly more surreal, in Severus's opinion.

"You're right about me, you know," she said. "I'm no fun. I worry too much about rules and schedules."

"I never said that," he replied. He'd thought it a time or two, of course. But he'd never said it out loud. He had a glass house of his own, on that count.

"I brush my teeth every morning and every night. And if I don't have a toothbrush," she said, dipping her finger into the alcohol in her cup and demonstrating a brushing motion in her mouth briefly. "I use my finger."

He hummed as an answer. What could he say to that, really?

She pressed her wet finger to her cheek. "Oooo, I feel so numb."

"Numb?" he asked, alarmed and showing it. "Where?"

"Everywhere," she said, suddenly frightened. "What does it mean?"

"Oh," he said, trying to soothe her. "You'd better lie down."

"I'm so cold," she blurted. "Why do I feel so cold?"

He covered her with a blanket. She tried to sit up, but he pressed her back down. "You'd better rest now."

"I'm dizzy," she said, closing her eyes. "I'm so very dizzy."

"Just lie still," he said. It wouldn't be long now. Should he tell her the truth?

"Come closer," she said, crooking a finger at him. "So I can tell you something."

He leaned over her. She flipped the blanket down a little and held up her cup. "My coconut is empty."

He refilled it one last time.

"How's about yourself?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "There'll be plenty of time later...I mean, you go ahead."

She lifted her head and took a sip. "What was she like?"

Severus was puzzled. "She who?"

"The lady who drove you to this."

"Drove me to what?" He was even more confused now.

"Drink."

"Oh. There was no lady," he said and realised it was true.

There was one, in the beginning. And even in the end, or what he'd thought was his end. But she wasn't there now. She had left weeks ago.

"She was your wife," Hermione said and giggled for several minutes.

He failed to see what was so funny. "There was no wife."

"From what are you running from, then, hmmm?" Her eyes gleamed at him in the dim light.

"Oh, I'm not running away from anything."

She nodded her head. "There has to be some-some-something."

"Does there?" he asked rhetorically. "The War was hard on all of us. I just wanted to leave it behind."

"I can understand that," she said, hers eyes soft and knowing. She reached up and traced his jaw line and then his nose. "You remind me of someone I knew long ago."

"You told me already," he replied, leaning into her touch. What did it matter now? "Blaise Zabini, my nephew."

"No, not him." She shook her head in denial. "You look like him. But you remind me of Snape. Professor Snape."

He sucked in a soundless breath. His mind raced for a plausible answer. "Perhaps because I was a teacher too?"

"You were?" She sounded so surprised. But then he could hardly blame her.

"Yes," he said. "In Italy."

He hated himself for lying to her. She was dying. But he had promised Potter. And he was aware of the girls listening just on the other side of the door.

She smiled to herself. "And you let me go on about shaping young minds."

"Yes, that was rather amusing," he said dryly. "It doesn't really matter now."

"It makes me feel better about the girls." She drained her cup and he took it from her, setting it aside. "I wish you would tell me what else you are hiding."

Goosebumps ran up his arm like an electric shock. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I can feel it, Walter. There is significant and substantial magic on this island."

"The wards are very strong."

"The wards are only part..." He stood up and walked away from her, giving himself a little distance. She sat up and put her hands on her hips. "Part of. Part of it...Oh dear!" She fell back to the bed, eyes closed.

He rushed to her side and gently pried an eyelid back. White. He crossed her arms, and pulled the blanket over her head, leaving her feet bare.

Outside the hut, Elisabeth returned from her expedition to the lagoon, dragging her feet the whole way. In her left hand, she carried a long thin branch of dark wood. It had lighter ridges every few inches, and thorns as well. There were ragged leaves on the twiggy end, obviously water-logged and dusty, having been left to trail along the path behind her as she walked.

"What's that?" asked Annie.

Elisabeth held the branch up for inspection, even as her head hung lower, avoiding the other girl's eyes. "It's the snake."

"But that's not a snake!" Harry exclaimed.

Elisabeth stamped her foot. "It looks like a snake!"

"You ninny," said Jenny.

Annie put a reassuring arm around Elisabeth's shoulders. "You'd better tell Mr Zabini."

Elisabeth nodded, her demeanour that of a prisoner about to march to her doom. "I want to go home."

"He's going to be furious!" Harry chipped in.

"Why?" asked Jenny.

"Because Miss Granger isn't dead," Harry explained.

They all glared at the "snake" as if the whole ordeal was its fault.

Inside the hut, Severus slumped into the chair at the radio, pedaling listlessly for a few moments.

"Stump, this is Babbity Rabbity calling. She's... It's over."

Seamus heaved a long sigh. "I'm sorry, Babbity."

"I have to tell the girls. Stand by, will you? I might need you soon."

"Will do."

Severus dropped the mic, and passed Hermione's bunk without looking at her. Her toes twitched in reaction to the breeze his movement created.

He opened the door, and walked out to face the girls.

"Mr Zabini..." started Annie.

Severus interrupted her. "Just a minute." He closed the door behind him. "Er, will you all come over here, please?"

He gestured to some empty crates grouped near the wall of the hut.

Annie tried again. "Mr Zabini..."

Severus held up a hand to stop her. "No, no, please. There's something I want to tell you."

"There's something we need to tell you." Annie said.

"I'll go first, all right?" He cleared his throat. "This is very hard to say... "

"Mr Zabini," said Annie. She was getting a bit frustrated.

Severus patted her shoulder. "Please, there's a good girl." He ran a hand through his hair. It felt odd to have it this short. "Now, Miss Granger, whom I guess we all gave a very difficult time to, when she only wanted... Well. Miss Granger has gone away."

"No, she hasn't," said Jenny, petting him on the arm.

"You tell him, Elisabeth," Harry piped up.

"Why me?" Elisabeth muttered mulishly, hiding the branch behind her back.

"Because it was all your fault!" Harry exclaimed hotly.

Severus was puzzled. "Tell me what?" he asked in a short tone.

"It wasn't a snake. It was this," said Elisabeth, bringing the branch out in front of her.

Severus leaned closer to look at it in astonishment. "Well, that's not a snake."

"It looks like a snake." Elisabeth defended herself, stubborn to the core.

Severus took another long look at the branch. "Well, that's not a snake," he repeated, just as stubborn.

"Here," said Elisabeth, handing it over. Severus took it from her. "Watch out for the thorns."

One of them sank into his hand, and he shook it off. "Thank you," he said wryly. He blinked at it twice. "Not a snake," he muttered to himself.

"It looks like a snake," Elisabeth said. She was getting tired of repeating herself. If she had a list of things she hated, it would hold first position.

"No, it doesn't," He said under his breath, considering it. He stood up, and angled it away from his body into the shade from the hut's roofline.

"This looks like a snake!" he announced, conviction enunciated in every word.

The girls followed him as he marched into the hut to Miss Granger's bunk. He flipped back the blanket, and her eyes popped open.

"Is it morning already?" she said in a slur, drunk as ever.

He flipped the blanket back over her head.

"Babbity, we have a minister here to comfort you all, if there's a need," said Willykins from the radio.

Severus picked up the mic. "Never mind that. Miss Granger is alive," he said. He held the branch up to the mic. "The snake is dead."

"What do you mean, Babbity? What's going on?" Seamus said, clearly confused.

He wasn't the only one. Severus tried to unknot the ravel of thoughts running through his mind, and gave it up as a bad job.

"Over and out," he said, and tossed the mic onto the desktop.

He grabbed a bottle of firewhisky from under the dry sink, and handed the branch back to Elisabeth as he went out the door.

He needed to be alone. With whisky.

~Hangover~

Severus was in such a hurry that he skipped the steps, jumping off the deck. He gave his audience a dismissive salute, and started down the trail the led back to the cove.

Jenny's wee voice stopped him cold. "Were you really a teacher?"

He spun around abruptly to face the girls with a hard stare. "Hold up your right hand."

The girls stared back at him like he had transfigured into a blue caterpillar or sprouted two extra heads.

"Come on, do it," he growled. "Raise your right hand."

They glanced at each other, fidgeted a bit, and finally obeyed.

"Now, place it on your heart and repeat after me," he said. "Cross my heart and hope to...well, just swear you won't tell."

The girls looked at one another again.

Harry spoke up first. "Cross my heart and swear I won't tell." Her actions suited her words. The other girls did it as well.

"Now spit on it." They balked, distaste clear in their expressions. "Come on, spit!" he barked.

Harry spit. The rest of the girls spit too.

"The first one to break the pledge will get warts," Severus said, and stomped off to his boat.

Annie shaded her eyes to watch him go. "Do you really think we will?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," muttered Elisabeth.

They all trudged into the hut to make tea and watch over Miss Granger.

The next day, Severus woke up disgruntled and out of sorts, with his mind still a chaotic whirl. He drank three cups of coffee spiked with whisky in quick succession, and went aboveboard to start his day's work.

He consulted the measurements he'd taken before he was interrupted the previous day, and began constructing a patch for the hole in the hull. He tried to keep his mind a blank and his swirling thoughts at bay, but that proved nearly impossible.

Visions of drunken Granger danced in his head, asking him how her blood tasted and if he'd like to kiss her. She was a fascinating creature when intoxicated. The prudish, uptight spinster bound for horrid pink suits and an office full of painted kittens on china plates disappeared, and a whimsically alluring sprite took her place.

He wondered if he'd ever see that sprite again. Not that he wanted to see her again. What he wanted was for Miss Granger and her impressionable young minds to depart forthwith to their original destination, leaving him the hell alone. He wanted his peace of mind back. And his hut. Not to mention his whisky. His clothes they could keep, since they fit so well. He remembered how Hermione looked, soaking wet in his shirt and trousers.

Very well, indeed.

As if summoned, the lady in question stumbled onto the beach and seems to hunch in on herself in the bright sunshine. She shaded her eyes and made her way slowly to the side of the boat, wading through the calm water of the cove. She was wearing his trousers, cuffed to mid-calf, and one of his shirts, the sleeves rolled up six or seven times so that her forearms showed. She was a tiny little thing, all bushy hair and bravado. He always forgot that. She seemed to loom, ever large, in his mind.

He watched her grasp the rope ladder and hoist herself to the top deck, where he stood, waiting for her.

"Good morning," she said, in a near whisper.

"Good morning," he replied, in his normal voice.

She clutched her head and he repressed a smile.

"You needn't shout," she said, wincing at her own voice. "Do I owe you an apology?"

"For what?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"For anything I might have done yesterday," she explained. He chuckled and she winced again. "What did I do yesterday?"

"Nothing much," he said. "You told me you know Gobbledegook and that you hold your liquor very well."

He smirked at her.

She cringed at the sight; it didn't bode well for her dignity. "I didn't."

"You did." He nodded.

She played with the hem of her shirt. "I had the oddest dreams."

"You did?" He felt compelled to ask.

"Yes," She wrinkled her forehead in concentration. "Seamus Finnigan was there, but I couldn't see him. I just heard his voice. Then a giant snake was chasing me, asking for soufflé. And you told me you were a teacher. Isn't that preposterous?"

"Extremely."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Except that last part really happened."

"Did it?" he asked, hoping to bluff his way through.

"You know it did," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. "What else are you keeping to yourself?"

"Not much," he pretended to think. "You asked me to kiss you."

She blushed and ducked her head, wincing as she did so. "I did not!"

He moved closer to her. "I don't kiss like a fish, or Viktor Krum," he whispered.

She covered he face with her hands and groaned. "I'm absolutely mortified."

"Why?" he asked. "You had a bit more than prudent, and made a fool of yourself. You're human, like everyone else."

"I hate feeling foolish," she muttered.

"As do I," he said, and toasted her with his mug of spiked coffee.

"I also loathe being lied to," she said, looking him square in the eye. "I know you're hiding something."

"I'm not hiding it." He leaned against the railing and watched her think.

"What are the wards protecting?"

Excellent question, Miss Granger. Twenty points to Gryffindor.

"An object of Dark Magic," he answered.

"What kind of Dark Magic?" her brow furrowed with worry. "Is that why the Death Eaters came here?"

"Yes, they're looking for it," he said. "I am here to keep them from taking it."

She bit her lip. "You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?"

"No."

Tears welled in her eyes. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Not right now." He hated Potter more than ever. He'd have to create a new list, just for him. 'Things he hated about Potter.'

She drew in a breath, and wiped her eyes. "Fine. I'll just be going then." She swung a leg over the rail, and climbed onto the rope ladder. "Heaven help you, Mr Zabini, if it gets us all killed."

He watched her trudge across the sand and past the dock. He rather thought death would be preferable to her fury, should she suss out the whole truth before he had an opportunity to confess it to her.

Hermione was too agitated to go back to hut right away, so she kept to the shoreline, walking under the tall brush and through waist-high grasses, until she came to the cliff wall that bisected the island. Turning west, she followed the wall, supposing that it would lead to the lagoon. Not watching where she was going, she continued her argument with Mr Zabini in her head. She was deeply hurt at the lack of trust he had displayed.

She had thought, foolishly it seemed, that the snake bite incident had achieved something of an understanding between them. She had thought that he might start to open up to her now, as he had when she was drunk. But no, she was entirely wrong, as she often was when it came to men. They were another species altogether, wholly unfathomable. Thank Merlin she had only told him about Krum, and not any of the others. Not that there had been many. Just Ronald, Blaise and one night with Neville.

Hermione stumbled over something in the path, and turned to look down at it. Her bag! Picking it up, she tilted her head back, and traced a line up the cliff wall. It was no good. The cliff was too craggy to get a read on where she stood relative to where they had landed on the island. Hermione placed a hand flat against the rocks, and felt a twinge of magic jolt through her arm like an electrical pulse.

Rubbing her hand on her trouser leg to shake off the buzzy feeling, she cocked her head to one side. If she concentrated, she could barely discern the sound of the falls. The vegetation beneath the cliffs was dense, muffling the sound of the water. She started walking again, counting her steps, and reached the lagoon a few minutes later.

She filed the distance in the back of her mind to be consulted later, when she would have time to evaluate it thoroughly. From the position of the sun in the sky, she estimated that it was close to tea time. And she couldn't wait to show the girls what she'd found.

~Dinner With the Girls~

It was Christmas come early in the Quonset hut that evening. The girls had been gratifyingly enthusiastic to have their cherished belongings at hand. Annie squealed with joy over her expensive perfume. Harry had to be reminded several times that cricket bats belonged outside. Jenny had scooped up her teddy bear with shining eyes. And Elisabeth had actually smiled...smiled...at the sight of her chemistry set, not a single test tube or beaker broken in the fall. Hermione understood very well how they felt. She had her lovely books back again.

And their larder was full, to boot.

But best of all, she had her wand, as did Annie and Harry. She had tucked them into the beaded bag for safekeeping before the Portkey trip, and had been too ashamed to admit it to Mr Zabini. It was bad enough, hearing the echo of Alistair Moody in her head, shouting "Constant vigilance" at her morning, noon and night.

She was eager to feel the rush of her magic course through her body, but held back, remembering Mr Zabini's admonishment. It wouldn't do to attract unwanted visitors back, when they seemed to have given up.

Hermione dearly hoped they had given up.

With so much to choose from, the girls helped her to create a veritable feast that night for dinner: watercress soup, roast beef, mixed veg with peas, carrots and new potatoes, and Mcvities ginger nuts for afters.

They were just sitting down to eat, when a knock sounded on the door, and Mr Zabini stuck his head in the hut.

"Do you mind if I join you, ladies?" he asked, unsure of his welcome.

Hermione bit her lip, dismayed that she hadn't thought to invite him, despite their disagreement. "By all means, please do, Mr Zabini."

She dished up an extra serving as he crossed to the table and stood there, blinking at the table in shock. His eyes roamed from the full plates and bowls to the well-stocked larder shelves, then back again.

"Miss Granger found her bag!" Harry announced gleefully.

"So I see," Mr Zabini said, and sat down in the chair at the head of the table, where Her...Miss Granger had placed his meal.

"It smells wonderful," he said, picking up his spoon.

Annie beamed at his compliment. "I heated everything up."

Severus took a bite and chewed it thoughtfully. "It's the perfect temperature."

"I'm glad we have lots of food again," said Elisabeth. "But I'm so tired of tinned meat. I'd love to have fresh fish instead."

Annie wrinkled her nose. "I'm allergic to fish."

"Mr Zabini tried to teach me to fish," Miss Granger said, after swallowing a spoonful of soup. "But he never follows through on anything he starts."

Severus inhaled sharply, nearly sucking a bit of beef into his lung. He coughed violently and Harry jumped up to pound him on the back.

"Oh, Jenny! Go get Mr Zabini something to drink," exclaimed Miss Granger.

Jenny ran off and came back moments later, plunking a bottle of firewhisky on the table in front of Severus.

"Jenny!" Miss Granger yelped.

"Why did you bring that to me, little girl?" Severus tried to push the bottle away, feigning shock. Jenny pushed it back. He started coughing again.

"She always brings it to you," said Harry, trying to be helpful.

Severus gave Harry a hard stare. "She does not," he gritted out.

"She does when we help you with the boat," Harry protested.

Severus glanced up at Miss Granger, who narrowed her eyes. "Shut it, Cheeky. Ixnay on the oatbay."

"Oh," said Harry and shoveled a spoonful of mushy peas into her mouth.

Miss Granger cleared her throat, and the meal continued in a somewhat pleasant silence.

Once afters were consumed, and the remnants had been cleared away, Severus suggested that everyone show him what had been in Miss Granger's beaded bag. He wasn't particularly interested, but it did create a distraction that effectively subverted Miss Granger's intent to harangue him again. He could see it brewing in her eyes.

The girls led him to the shelves by their bunks, where their treasures were neatly arranged, and showed them off, one by one.

Many, many, many minutes later, Severus began to wonder if a lecture or another argument...even the dreaded persistent questions...might not be preferable to the endless round of show and tell he had subjected himself to. After petting Jenny's teddy bear and sniffing Annie's perfume, he valiantly held back a yawn and plotted how he would make his escape.

And then Harry dangled a pair of battle-scarred horse chestnuts under his nose by the thirty centimetre long ropes they'd been strung on.

"Conkers!" He almost whooped in delight.

Harry grinned liked a loon and handed him a strung chestnut.

Miss Granger cleared her throat and caught his eye. "Outside, please."

Harry pelted through the door onto the deck while Severus followed at a slightly more sedate pace.

They faced each other an arm's length away, and Severus raised his hand, letting his chestnut dangle between them.

"You first," he said.

Harry nodded, wrapping some of the sturdy string around one hand, and holding the nut steady with the other. She closed one eye, taking careful aim, and angled the string up, before releasing the nut and jerking her string-wrapped hand down forcefully. There was a sharp crack as her nut struck Severus's.

"Good shot." He looked his nut over. No fissures marred its pristine surface. Yet.

Harry dangled her conker and Severus took aim. His first shot missed. Harry grinned at him. He took another shot, and the resounding crack echoed through the trees, startling a bird into flight.

Harry looked her nut over. "Not a mark," she said, smirking.

Severus dangled his conker again. "Didn't you say your Uncle has a pig farm, Harry?"

Her smirk widened. "Yes, sir." She aimed, and shot. His conker fell to the deck. "Sta...! "

"No stamps!" Severus bellowed and lunged to grab his conker just before Harry's foot came down on it.

Harry beamed at him. "You're very quick, aren't you?"

It was his turn to smirk at her.

Miss Granger stuck her head out the door of the hut. "It's getting dark, Harry. Time to come in and get ready for bed."

"Awwwwww," complained Harry. "I haven't won yet."

"Another time, perhaps," said Severus, raising an eyebrow. His eyes gleamed with the fire of competition.

"I'll hold you to it!" said Harry. "But you should know I'm a fiver, sir."

"I'll keep that in mind," replied Severus, suitably impressed. He was only a three-er. If he counted the palm tree matches.

Back inside, Elisabeth proudly displayed her chemistry set. It was elaborate for a juvenile, but she handled it with reverence and expertise. Severus knew exactly how she felt. He ached to feel the steam from a simmering cauldron undulate in clinging tendrils across his face. To hear the gentle snick of his silver potions knife as it sliced fluxweed into a fine mince.

He patted Elisabeth on the head in an awkward manner and looked up to see Miss Granger observing him. There was something in her expression that made his spine tingle with apprehension. He schooled his features to indifference as he stood up and crossed to the table where she sat.

"Is there anything you'd like to show me?" he murmured, lacing innuendo into every word.

She flushed a becoming shade of pink. "Actually, it's time for the girls to go to bed. But I do have some books to show you."

Miss Granger stood up and called for quiet. "Girls, get into your pyjamas and brush your teeth. I will be right outside with Mr Zabini."

"Will he come back and say good night to us?" asked Elisabeth.

Miss Granger gave him a questioning look. "I will," he replied.

She picked up her beaded bag and led the way outside as the girls gathered their nightclothes. She set the bag on a crate, and turned to face him.

"I've been thinking..." she started.

He held up a hand to silence her. "I still can't tell you anything."

"I realise that," she returned evenly. "I'm not pushing. Or, I'm trying not to," she said, with a wry smile.

"All right, then." He sighed. "You've been thinking."

She took a deep breath. "You are guarding an object of Dark Magic. And the island has very strong wards, designed to protect that object." She paused and looked at him for confirmation.

He nodded. She knew as much already.

"You didn't design those wards, did you?"

He couldn't see the harm in admitting that...it wasn't a secret, after all. "No."

"So, if the Death Eaters come back," she said. "You'll want access to it before them, correct?"

He nodded again, a bit wary now. She was slipping into forbidden territory.

She opened her bag and rummaged in it for a few moments. "I have several volumes on wards and dark magic."

He reached for the books she held out to him.

She didn't let go as he grasped them, looking into his eyes earnestly. "I can help you with this, if you trust me."

I do trust you. But I made a promise.

~Teenage Infatuation~

A reverie descended as they stood, holding the books between them.

"We're ready!" Harry yelled, and it broke.

She let go, and they entered the hut.

"Why don't you sing for Mr Zabini?" Hermione suggested.

Annie began, her voice soft and true,

"There were ten in a bed

And the little one said

'Roll over, roll over'

So they all rolled over

And one fell out.

There were nine in a bed

And the little one said

'Roll over, roll over'

So they all rolled over

And one fell out."

Harry sang next, a tad off-key, in a comical warble,

"There were eight in a bed

And the little one said

'Roll over, roll over'

So they all rolled over

And one fell out.

There were seven in a bed

And the little one said

'Roll over, roll over'

So they all rolled over

And one fell out."

Elisabeth took over, somber and sweet,

"There were six in a bed

And the little one said

'Roll over, roll over'

So they all rolled over

And one fell out.

There were five in a bed

And the little one said

'Roll over, roll over'

So they all rolled over

And one fell out."

The three girls sang together, their individual voices blending together surprisingly well,

"There were four in a bed

And the little one said

'Roll over, roll over'

So they all rolled over

And one fell out.

There were three in a bed

And the little one said

'Roll over, roll over'

So they all rolled over

And one fell out.

There were two in a bed

And the little one said

'Roll over, roll over'

So they all rolled over

And one fell out.

There was one in a bed

And the little one said..."

"Goodnight!" Jenny chirped, and fell back on her pillow, giggling.

Hermione was flabbergasted. "Jenny! You said something!"

"She's been talking for days," blurted Harry.

Annie hurried to add, "We've been saving it for a surprise."

"Well, it certainly is," Hermione said, rushing over to give the little girl a hug.

"It certainly is, young ladies." Severus gave the other girls a warning look while her back was turned. It said, quite clearly, "Don't drag me into this."

They nodded in acknowledgment, even Jenny, as she lay back after Hermione's long squeeze.

"Goodnight, all," he said.

"Goodnight, Mr Zabini," the girls chorused.

"Wait a tick," said Hermione, while rustling in her bag. She handed him a long metal cylinder. "A Muggle torch. There's no moon tonight. It'll be too dark to see your way back to the boat."

"Thanks," he said, letting his hand linger over hers for a few moments before taking his leave.

Four days later, while he was having tea with Hermione and the girls, the wards issued a piercing scream. Jenny's hysterical screech blended with it, and Hermione staggered to the little girl's side while holding her hands over her ears. The rest of the girls followed, digging their nails into their hair, as they crouched over, putting their foreheads on their knees.

Severus's stomach roiled, but he managed to make his way to the deck just outside the doorway, still under the roofline. He looked up and saw three Death Eaters circle overhead, retreating far enough that wards stopped howling. Jenny's screaming was muffled shortly thereafter.

The Lestranges were back, and they'd brought a friend. Severus watched as they circled higher, unable to identify the third man. He kept low, creeping off the deck towards the underbrush, trying to get a better look. He was halfway to the stream, monitoring the invaders' flight path, when he heard footsteps pelt across the deck.

Severus held his breath as the three men hovered, listening for additional sounds. The one he couldn't identify lowered his broom cautiously, halting when a whine seemed to build in the air, pressing against Severus's temples. Carrow. He was mean, cunning and observant. He also had a penchant for torturing children. Especially girls.

Buggering Fecking Hell.

A movement in the corner of his eye caught Severus's attention, and he swiveled his head to see Annie step out of the underbrush a few metres to his right, jaw agape, gazing up at the men in black robes hovering overhead.

Stealth abandoned, he dove and tackled her, rolling into the underbrush with the shivering girl perched on his chest. He was almost perfectly certain that Carrow had spotted them.

He pulled Annie to her feet, and looked up, swearing under his breath. The three men were tiny black dots now, zooming toward Australia at breakneck speed. He was entirely certain now.

"Come on, I need to get back to the hut," he said, striding ahead impatiently.

She tried to follow and gasped in pain. "I think something's wrong with my ankle."

He swept her up in his arms, and marched back to the hut, depositing her like a sack of meal on the most convenient bunk. He took a moment to glance at the others...they were huddled at the table around Jenny, calming her down...before crossing to the radio and jabbing at the communication button.

"Babbity to Stump. Are you there, Willykins?" he gripped the mic tightly, his neck tense.

"Yes, Babbity. I'm here. Are you secure?"

"No. Get Sabre or Third Brother. Now," he barked. There was a squeal of feedback that made everyone in the hut jump.

"All right, all right. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

What seemed like eons later, someone picked up the mic. "Third Brother here. What's the problem?" Potter sounded like a toad with a head cold.

"We've been spotted, Brother. Get us out of here. Tonight."

"By who?"

"The Lestranges and Amycus Carrow." Hermione didn't quite muffle a horrified gasp. "Ask Seamus about his favourite hobby."

"Shite." There was a pause, and Severus heard a garbled discussion take place. "We can't get you out of there tonight. There aren't any Portkeys made. Only Luckless has authorisation, and he's out on assignment."

"I don't give a shite about authorisation," Severus gritted out.

"You should," said Potter. "The opposition is intercepting the Portkeys that aren't, if you get my drift."

"Fu..." Severus started. Then Hermione caught his eye. "Udgebucket."

"Our sentiments exactly."

Severus thought furiously. "We have the Bulgarian ship."

"That would be unadvisable. You could only leave under cover of night, and you've never piloted one before. The chances of hitting a reef or an atoll are extremely probable."

"We can't just sit here and do nothing," Severus hissed. "They'll be coming back. Soon."

"Luckless will be back in two days. Sit tight till then."

Severus growled in frustration and threw the mic down, stalking out of the hut. He could hear Jenny sobbing and Hermione crooning comforting words to her. He didn't realise Annie had followed him out of the hut again, until she tapped his shoulder.

He spun around and she took a step back at the look in his eyes.

"I.. I... I just wanted to say I'm sorry," she said, twisting the hem of her shirt. "About before, putting us in danger. It was an incredibly thick thing to do."

He muttered a non-word response, not trusting his very shaky tact at that moment.

"I hope you don't think badly of me," she continued, looking up at him through tear-dampened eyelashes.

He sighed. "No, I don't think badly of you."

She took a step closer to him. "I don't think badly of you, either."

"What happened to your hurt ankle?" he enquired, his eyes narrowing.

"It feels much better now," she said, and pursed her lips as her eyes drifted shut. "You can kiss me if you want."

He stared at her in consternation for a moment, completely flummoxed. What was it with the elder females on this island? He looked down at Annie's hands trembling slightly as they hung loose at her sides. First time. He'd stake all his Galleons on it.

"May I?" he asked in a purr, sweeping her into a dip. He gazed at her with fervent intensity. "I've been waiting for this moment since we first met."

Annie cringed back, overwhelmed.

"Leave those children behind," he whispered, laying it on thick. "Come to me on my boat tonight. We will live there together, forever. It will be like camping, with romance."

He leered at her.

She pushed feebly against his chest and he set her upright. "Miss Granger doesn't let us out at night," she squeaked before running back to the hut.

He repressed the urge to guffaw until she was out of earshot. Despite the figurative sword hanging over all their heads, he suddenly felt quite... cheerful.