Chapter 6

Hermione looked up see someone in red Auror's robes standing in the doorway of her office. She recognised the woman as one of Harry and Ron's team, a Muggle-born witch of some forty years of age.

"Hello, Wendy, can I help you?"

"Harry asked me to give you this, Merlin knows why. We should just Banish it – not as if it's worth much." She levitated a cracked pottery jug across to the desk. "Watch it, it bites, nearly took Giles' hand off."

Hermione cast a couple of investigative charms and grinned.

"Thank Harry for me. He knows I'm fascinated by old curses, and this one's a cracker. I haven't seen a snapping curse this old since I was a trainee."

"Have fun."

Hermione floated the jug into one of her warded carrying cases and ordered a cup of coffee from the canteen. It arrived as oxtail soup, which was a distinct improvement on yesterday's lukewarm, over-sugared tea.

oooOOOooo

Lucius Malfoy looked up from his desk and gave his complacent little smile.

"Why, Hermione, how pleasant to see you. How may I help you?"

"Hello, Lucius. I thought you might be interested in this." She opened the case and displayed the decrepit jug. "Snapping curse, early fifteenth century at a guess. The Aurors dug it up at a crime scene."

"Fascinating," he breathed, approaching carefully. "Does it – ah, yes." He prodded the jug with a roll of parchment and it lunged and bit off the end. "It doesn't differentiate between inanimate objects and fingers, I see, a very early version of the hex. I don't have this in my collection."

"You're welcome to it; they were only going to Banish it."

"How are you getting on with your Cumbric curses?"

"Slowly but steadily. I've had a lot of other work come in so I had to put them to one side, but I've dismantled ten. I've recorded all the details and brought you a copy of my report."

"How kind. Would you like tea?"

"Thank you."

They settled in armchairs beside the fire and watched one another across the tea table.

"He is still sulking," Lucius said eventually.

"Predictable. Has he brewed the potions Healer Strood recommended?"

"As far as I know; he certainly consumes potions after his dinner. One assumes that since he has decided to go through with it, he'll do it properly."

"I want your advice," Hermione said, and he raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised. "I'm going to tell people. I can't just turn up in six months time with a new baby and introduce him as my son, can I? I want to let my parents know, and my closest friends."

"Do they not know already?" Lucius asked blandly, and Hermione felt her face heat up.

"Two of them do, but they're sworn to secrecy and I'd trust them with my life. The problem will be telling the Weasleys, especially Ron. I don't want to just speak up without Severus even knowing, and ideally, I'd like him to be there."

"Hm. You want them to believe that you have a relationship, I assume?"

"If everyone thinks that the baby is planned, and that we're friends, if not lovers, it'll go easier for him and for the baby."

"You expect me to bask in your reflected glory, do you?" Severus' voice was acrid with spite. Hermione twisted in her chair to see him leaning in the doorway with folded arms.

"I could just as easily claim to be basking in yours."

Severus sneered as he walked into the room. Hermione glanced at his middle, but his usual billowing black robes hid any sign of expansion. "How are you, Professor?"

"Blooming." He threw himself into a chair and steepled his fingers. "What are you plotting to do to me now?"

"I just want to tell my parents and friends about the baby, and I'd prefer to do it so that they don't hate you, so please stop being such a suspicious bastard."

"Says the girl who set my robes on fire, who stole from my stores..."

"I was a child! You did stupid things as a kid, so did I!"

"Children, please," Lucius sighed. "Stop forcing me into the role of mediator; it doesn't suit me at all. I'm supposed to be the personification of evil around here."

Hermione chuckled and Severus' lips twitched.

Lucius nodded. "That's better. Now, Hermione, I assume you wish to tell your parents and the Weasleys..." he gave a tiny shudder, "...accompanied by a plump, pleasant and personable Severus?"

"That's the general idea."

"Good luck with that. You might manage a bad-tempered bastard with a bulging belly."

"I am not bulging," Severus snapped. He glared at Hermione, who was making good use of the excuse to stare openly at his stomach, and then with a very put-upon grunt, he slid his thumbnail down the row of buttons on the front of his robes. They slid apart to reveal that his trousers were straining over a gently rounded tummy. "Happy now?"

Greatly daring, Hermione stretched out her hand.

"May I?"

"You won't be able to feel a thing yet." However, he did not move as she pressed her palm against him, feeling the shape of his hard belly under the taut woollen fabric.

"Hello in there," she whispered and he snorted.

"I suppose you're going to want to bond with the little squirt like this for the next six months."

He was getting visibly twitchy, so Hermione withdrew her arm and took up her teacup.

"Thank you, yes; it would be nice, since I'm going to be caring for him."

He waved his hand to refasten his robes and snatched up a shortcake biscuit.

"I have a number of important commissions to brew while I'm still able to get close enough to the cauldrons, so I shall owl you with dates when I'm available to be displayed to your associates."

"That's great," Hermione told him. "You'll have to owl me at the Hog's Head, though."

"That dive? What in Merlin's name are you doing there?"

"The cottage is being sold," she explained composedly, "and I can't afford to stay at the Three Broomsticks or the Leaky Cauldron because I don't know how long it will take me to find a cheap flat. I don't earn enough on my own to splash out, and I've got a baby to save up for now, too."

Lucius cleared his throat.

"You might find bonding with your son is easiest when in close proximity," he suggested with a small and perfectly evil smirk. "The Dower House is more than large enough..."

"No," said Severus, "absolutely not. The Dower House is my brewing facility, and I will not put up with feminine fripperies hanging in the bathroom or Kneazle hairs floating into my cauldrons."

"Very well," Lucius said, pouring himself another cup of Earl Grey. "That's settled. Hermione, you may move into the Manor whenever you please. I only ask that you do not allow your familiar to chase my peacocks or enter the Dower House."

Hermione's thanks were tempered by the feeling that far from doing the manipulating herself, she had just been perfectly manipulated.

oooOOOooo

Severus entered the Burrow on Hermione's heels, his robes and cloak swirling around his slender, angular frame in full pantomime demon king mode. The effect was everything she had hoped for. There was a moment of stunned silence before a babble of shrieks, exclamations and swearwords burst out of the assembled Weasleys and hangers-on. Harry got to his feet and, with Ginny at his side, strode across the kitchen with his hand extended.

"I'm delighted to see you again, sir," he said clearly. Severus slowly reached out his thin, pale hand and allowed Harry to shake it, his black eyes emotionless. "Please, accept my thanks for everything you did for us, and my apologies for doubting you, and for all the stress we put you through." Lowering his voice a little, he added, "I'll kneel, if you want me to – Hermione tells me that she promised on my behalf."

Severus tipped back his head. He was only an inch taller than Harry was now, but he still managed to look down his impressive nose at him.

"That won't be necessary, Potter. However, I shall hold the offer in reserve for when I really need it."

Ginny took Harry's place and also shook Severus' hand, and then there was a rush of bodies as Bill, Fleur, George, Angelina, Percy, Penny and Ron all jostled to congratulate Severus for being alive.

"Oh, my," Molly gasped, fluttering around the table. "Harry, why didn't you tell us?"

"Because Hermione asked me not to," he replied placidly, although there was a gleam in his green eyes that suggested he was enjoying the situation far too much. "Professor Snape is Hermione's guest, not mine. Didn't Ron tell you she was seeing someone?"

"She's seeing Snape?" Molly shrieked and heads turned towards her. Ron gaped rather unflatteringly.

"What? You and Snape?"

"Professor Snape, Ron," Hermione couldn't resist muttering.

"Good heavens, Severus," Arthur remarked. "You've always been a dark horse, haven't you? I always wondered if Hermione wouldn't be happier with an intellectual rather than," he glanced fondly at his youngest son, "a pure man of action."

Severus raised an eyebrow, but merely murmured, "Quite."

"And the good news is," Hermione exclaimed, "Molly, you remember that ritual magic you invoked to give Ron and me a baby?"

There was a sudden, apprehensive silence.

"What was that, dear?" Molly asked, her tone cool.

"You used old ritual magic before Ron and I split up to ensure we had a baby. Don't you remember?"

"I might have cast a charm or two, yes, but that was before you separated."

"It worked," Hermione said brightly. Now the silence was palpable, so filled with tension that she could almost taste it, metallic and dry.

"You're pregnant?" Ron breathed, looking horrified.

"No, don't be silly, I can't get pregnant, can I? Healer Strood told us that. No, the magic that your mum used was so powerful that when I got together with Severus, it rebounded onto him. He's about three and a half months along."

Severus stood with his feet planted on the flagstones, in the balanced yet easy stance of a duellist, his face schooled to impassivity, his black eyes alert.

"Molly," Arthur whispered into the hush, "what have you done?"

"Shit, Mum!" Ron exclaimed. Severus' lips curled into a tiny smirk as he swept his hand down to release the fastening charm on his robes. He was wearing a tailored shirt and trousers that hugged his body. There was too little fat on him to smooth over the swell of his small cantaloupe belly – it was obviously no flaccid middle-aged paunch. He rubbed it idly with one elegant hand.

Ron had gone completely white, his freckles standing out on his face like spots of paint.

"That could've been – Mum!" He rounded on Molly, who stood staring at Severus with her mouth open. "What the bloody hell have you done?"

"Given me the baby I never thought I'd have," Hermione said.

"Placed me in a delicate and peculiar situation," Severus added. His voice was very quiet and precise, far more lethal than Ron's bluster. "Do not expect me to forget or forgive this in a hurry, Molly Weasley." He snapped his robes shut, turned on the spot and Disapparated straight through the Burrow's wards.

"That's a shame, I was hoping he was going to stay for lunch," Harry said after a moment. "I would have liked to talk to him."

"So would I, the greasy bastard," Ron growled, and his entire family, with the exception of his still-astounded mother, rounded on him. Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hex was exceptionally impressive today, Hermione thought, as Harry seized her around the shoulder and hugged her to his side.

"You'd better go and find him," Harry whispered as he leant towards Hermione. "He must have been excruciatingly embarrassed. God, that man's brave, and you can tell him I said so."

Hermione nodded, slipped out of the door and Apparated to Malfoy Manor.

oooOOOooo

Severus stood by one of the tall windows of the drawing room, staring out over the formal garden. Hermione was about to walk through the doorway when she heard Lucius' low voice.

"It's done now, Severus, you've taken the hardest step. The rest will be easier."

"Like this?" Severus asked bitterly, running his hands around his belly. "I should be used to humiliation, but as I've had the last seven years without it, it seems I'm out of practise."

"You shouldn't let it distress you so."

"Oh yes, I forgot, it's bad for the baby. Well, fuck the spawn, it's turning me into a hormonal mess, and I look like a snake that's swallowed a Bludger whole."

"Severus," Lucius purred, "you'll just have to put up with it for another five and a half months, and then it will all be over. It isn't a lifetime sentence. Hermione is more than willing to take the child off your hands. That's what you want, isn't it?"

There was a long pause as Severus sighed.

"I don't know. I don't know what I want, except for it to be over and finished, and then I can think about it rationally."

"Have you felt it move yet?"

"No, Strood said I'll feel it between four to five months."

"Narcissa wasn't really very taken with Draco at first," Lucius said. "She'd already lost the two previous little ones, so she didn't dare let herself care until he started to kick. By the time he was born, she already loved him with this fierce, possessive need that quite took me aback. Wait until you can feel him somersaulting around in your tummy before you decide whether to give him up." Lucius got to his feet from his chair beside the fire and laid his book aside. Severus looked around at him. Hermione could see the gleam of his black eyes, reflecting the firelight, but he was too intent upon Lucius to notice her.

"You sound as if you want him yourself."

"Well, he is yours." Lucius stepped closer, reached out and placed his spread hand firmly on the front of Severus' robes. Hermione, holding her breath, heard Severus let out a little sound, almost a whimper. "I want to feel him squirming inside here," Lucius whispered, and he took the final step that brought them chest to chest. Severus tilted back his head to look up into Lucius' eyes. Lucius began rubbing Severus' belly in a firm circular movement. "I want to watch you growing fuller and rounder day by day," he growled. "I want to pretend that he's mine, and that you are utterly mine."

Severus groaned and made a half-hearted attempt to push him away.

"I'll never be owned by anyone again, Malfoy, so bugger off."

"I don't want to own you," Lucius breathed, lowering his head and biting softly at the side of Severus' neck. "I just want to fuck you till you scream."

Hermione bit the back of her hand to prevent her gasp betraying her. Lucius shifted so that one of his legs was between Severus' thighs, eliciting a distinct humping movement before Severus stilled again.

"Bastard." His voice was thick and shaky. "You know the bloody hormones make me randy as hell."

"Are you accusing me of taking advantage of poor little Severus? As if I would." Lucius nibbled around the edge of his ear, and Severus quivered visibly. "If I'd known how a simple belly-rub would affect you, I'd have tried it years ago."

"Only works," Severus gasped, "when I'm pregnant. Lucius, stop."

Lucius smirked down at him.

"You don't really mean that, do you?"

"Granger will be here at any minute."

"She's supposed to be having lunch at the Weasley place."

"I left in a rage after threatening Molly. I can guarantee that Granger will follow me."

"Call her 'Hermione', Severus. It's much friendlier. Besides, calling her 'Granger' makes us sound like a pair of old perverts."

"We are." Severus made another attempt to pull away. "If this isn't perverted, I don't know what is. Were you all over Narcissa like this when she was carrying Draco?"

Lucius reared back.

"Great Merlin, are you still jealous of Narcissa? Yes, I did like to feel him move inside her; he was my son."

Severus snorted and this time, Lucius let him go. Severus pushed his hair back, burying his fingers in the lank black strands.

"I'm ... Yes, I am still jealous of Narcissa. I hate you for stringing me along for all those years, your little bit on the side, when I wanted you like hell."

"You wanted Hermione Granger too, I noticed. You like her, don't you, Severus? I must admit that the girl has a terrific brain in her head."

"Now that she's learned to use it as more than a filing system for facts learned by rote, yes."

"Not to mention a very grabbable, round little arse."

Severus huffed, in amusement or irritation, it was hard to tell. Hermione eased carefully back until she was watching them through the crack between the hinges of the door.

"You made it perfectly clear that our relationship was not exclusive on the day you proposed to Narcissa."

"I had no choice," Lucius said with a hint of exasperation. "It was arranged for me. Severus, we have gone through all of this a thousand times."

Severus wrapped his arms around himself, hunching slightly into his robes. "I know. I just feel ..."

"Fat? Angry? Vulnerable? In need of a damn good shag?"

"Fuck off."

There was reluctant laughter in his voice now, and Lucius seized him and slid his hand under the gentle curve of his belly to his groin.

"This suggests the latter." His other hand came up and grasped his hair gently, holding his head still so he could cover Severus' mouth with his own. Severus grabbed Lucius by the shoulders and rubbed against him shamelessly, pushing upwards into the kiss, making small, deep humming sounds in his throat.

"That's better," Lucius murmured, leaving his mouth to lick around the shell of his ear. "Much better. Let yourself go, Severus, let us look after you." He raised his head and stared straight at the narrow gap at the edge of the door. "He loves having his nipples nibbled, you know. Why don't you come and assist?"

oooOOOooo

Hermione's knees almost buckled. She felt dizzy with shock and excitement and lust – it was lust that curled, hot and quivery, deep inside her; lust for that tall, arrogant handsome wizard despite all the reasons why she ought to hate him, and lust for Severus with his fecund little belly, even though she told herself she was wrong, perverse and sick.

She stepped into the room. Severus was still holding himself up by Lucius' shoulders, possibly not even aware she was there. When she began to unbutton his robes, he twisted to stare at her, but Lucius held him tight.

"Hush now, let's do this properly. Hold my arm, Hermione."

He Apparated them directly to the master bedroom. Hermione was aware of acres of pastel carpets, sheepskin rugs and a huge four-poster bed with green hangings, but Lucius was spreading Severus out on the bed and opening his robes and she forgot about the decor.

Hermione's hand trembled as she unfastened Severus' shirt and trousers. The line of little black hairs curved down into his white underpants, and when she pulled them down, his cock bobbed free. He was staring at her with his black eyes hazy with lust.

"Bastard," he panted, "you set this up."

"Of course I did," Lucius agreed. He was climbing out of his own robes, revealing a pale, trimly muscled physique with broad shoulders and an impressive erection. "I wasn't going to wait until you were the size of an erumpent with a temper to match before suggesting the threesome that we all want, was I?"

"Are you both bisexual?" Hermione asked.

"Of course," Lucius said. "Although I tend to prefer men and Severus is prone to falling for unsuitable women. However, Narcissa wouldn't entertain the notion of sharing at all. She was prepared to turn a blind eye to my little peccadilloes, but that was as far as it went."

"I'm a little peccadillo, am I? Oh God!"

Lucius shut him up by simply leaning down and sucking Severus' cock into his mouth. Severus tried to thrust upwards but Lucius' hands on his thighs prevented him.

Hermione had never in her life imagined that Severus could babble like that, his sinful voice reduced to an incoherent stream of nonsense. When she sucked and bit gently on one of his nipples, he positively squealed. She considered that Lucius Malfoy lived up to his reputation as a complete bastard when he let go of Severus' cock before he came, leaving him swearing and jerking his hips in a futile effort to regain the hot warmth. Instead, Lucius Accio-ed a jar, the contents of which he slathered onto his own cock before plunging a slicked finger into Severus' arse.

"You evil shit! Malfoy, get inside me before I explode."

"As you wish."

Lucius lifted Severus' legs, lined himself up and pushed steadily inside him; Severus writhed. Hermione could hardly tell if he was in agony or the most exquisite arousal, although judging by the way his cock jerked and leaked fluid, he was very happy about the proceedings. Hermione applied her mouth to a nipple in an attempt to wring those embarrassing noises from him again – and succeeded – while Lucius snapped his hips in a punishing rhythm.

One of the supremely satisfying moments in Hermione's life was seeing Severus' eyes roll back in his head and hearing him shout as he spurted creamy white curds onto his own belly while Lucius Malfoy shuddered and came inside him.

Lucius crawled onto the bed and collapsed beside Severus, smugness personified.

"I need a fag," Severus groaned, and Lucius hitched himself up on one elbow and trailed a finger through the sweaty hairs of Severus' treasure trail.

"No, you don't – it'll only make you feel sick. You need to recover for a few minutes and then we have a very important task: a task which, as a wizard and a gentleman, I am honour bound to carry out, and you can damn well help."

"What?"

Lucius leaned his head close to Severus' ear and said very quietly, "We're going to make Hermione scream louder than you did."

"I did not scream."

"You did," Hermione told him. "You positively gibbered."

Severus opened his eyes and peered up at her, then frowned.

"Miss Granger, you are unsuitably clothed. Get that robe off at once."

"Yes, Professor Snape."

"Sarcasm does not become you."

"That wasn't sarcasm, it was irony."

He heaved himself up until he was sitting against the pillows and gazed thoughtfully at her.

"You really have grown into something of a handful, haven't you?"

"I heard that I have a very grabbable arse."

She turned around and dropped her robes, wriggling the said arse. When she looked back over her shoulder, a twitching in Severus' nether regions suggested that he agreed. Lucius rolled over onto his back, sighing happily.

"I can see that the next few months are going to be very entertaining indeed."

How right he was.

oooOOOooo

The next day, Hermione was eating toast in the breakfast room, waiting for an owl to deliver the morning paper so that she could glance through it while she drank her coffee, when the Floo alert chimed gently in the hall and she heard an elf questioning the visitor. She wondered if she had time to find out who it was before Apparating to work. Feet pattered on the marble tiles as Prossy hurried in.

"Miss Hermione, the Wheezy in the hall must speak to you, it is very very urgent, the Wheezy says. Shall I tell the Wheezy to go away?"

"No, I'll see them."

To her astonishment, Ron was pacing before the fireplace. As soon as she appeared, he hurried to her and grabbed her by the upper arms. His hair was tousled and his eyes wide.

"Hermione, thank Merlin! Call Snape and Malfoy right now."

"What?"

"We only have a few minutes, get them now!"

"Prossy, bring Master Lucius and Professor Snape here right away. What is it, Ron?"

"I'll explain when they get here. Trust me, Hermione, it's looking pretty damn bad."

Lucius came from the library, fully dressed and radiating chilly annoyance at the interruption to his morning routine. Severus, who required more sleep nowadays, came down the stairs wrapped in a black dressing gown and appearing unshaven, bleary eyed and surly.

"Harry sent me," Ron explained rapidly. "Snape, there's a warrant out for your arrest, and the Aurors will be here in around ten minutes ."

"What?" Lucius drew himself up and reached for his cane. Ron held up his hands.

"Just listen, okay? They're putting up anti-Apparation wards so you can't get out. I have to go before they block your Floo; they don't know I'm here. You mustn't fight them. They're coming in droves and you can't win, so don't try. They might be looking for an excuse to rough you up, so don't let them have it. Keep calm, don't argue. Play for time, demand legal representation and so on – I'm sure you know the drill, Malfoy. Harry says that he'll sort it, he's seeing Kingsley now. Got to go, good luck."

He threw a handful of powder into the fire and stepped in, saying "Aurors' office, Ministry of Magic," as he did so.

"Well," Lucius drawled, looking from Hermione to Severus, "your fears appear to be well founded, Severus."

Severus shrugged.

"It was too good to last. I'm going to get shaved and dressed; I might as well attempt to retain a little dignity."

He had sufficient time to shave, dress and consume his morning potions before someone hammered on the front door.

"They've drilled through my wards with a ten-person lightning bolt curse," Lucius muttered.

"That's illegal, isn't it? They're supposed to tell you to come out first."

"Not if you're in pursuit of ex-Death Eaters, it appears. Let them in, Prossy, before they blast the door open."

Aurors in red robes poured through the front door, taking up exaggerated defensive postures around the edges of the hall. Lucius held up his empty hands.

"I assume you have a warrant for this intrusion?"

"Of course we bloody do, Malfoy; we're not stupid enough to come near a slippery bugger like you without all the paperwork." A big, burly Auror whom Hermione did not know well waved a roll of parchment. "But you can keep your knickers on; we're not after you this week."

"Then who are you after?" Hermione asked, stepping out from behind Lucius and Severus. A ripple of shock ran around the room, and the big Auror looked momentarily uneasy.

"Mrs Weasley? What're you doing here?"

A couple of members of his team, rather sharper on the uptake, winced visibly.

"My name is Granger," Hermione said coldly, "and I didn't realise it was against the law to stay with friends, Auror Stott. What's this all about?"

"I have a warrant for the arrest of one Severus Snape."

"On what grounds?"

The Auror bared his teeth in an unsightly grin.

"The use of Unforgiveable curses. Come on, Snape, you coming quietly or do we do it the hard way?"

Severus drew himself up and donned an aura of icy distain, along with the travelling cloak handed to him by a trembling Prossy.

"We'll see you later, Professor," Hermione said.

"Don't bank on it," muttered one of the Aurors as they trooped out, jostling Severus in their midst.

"I'll go to the Ministry," Hermione said as soon as the front door slammed shut. Lucius lifted down the bowl of Floo powder and held it out.

"Go now. I'll Floo Draco and we'll get legal representation for him. Don't do anything hasty."

"Right. Good luck."

As she stepped into the green flames, Hermione realised she was shaking.

oooOOOooo

"Here." Harry thrust a mug of hot milky tea into her hands and Hermione took a grateful gulp. "He's in the holding cells, the Chief Warlock is convening the entire Wizengamot later today for the preliminary hearing, and we've got to move fast if we're to keep him out of Azkaban."

"Oh, no," Hermione breathed. "Oh, please, not Azkaban."

"The Dementors have gone," Harry said bracingly, but Hermione just stared into her mug of tea, trying to hold back tears of frustration.

"Harry, his pregnancy is being sustained by his magic, and Azkaban has had magic-dampening wards a mile thick ever since they banished the Dementors."

"Then we'll have to keep him out, won't we? Drink your tea." He conjured up parchment and a quill and sat down behind his desk. "We need to get everyone on his side to attend the hearing, plus everyone who is likely to be outraged at a miscarriage of justice ... Hermione, I'll do what I can from here, you go to Ginny and help her round up anyone you can think of: the old DA members, Order members, Hogwarts people, everyone. Go on, hurry. Use my Floo. Oh, and you'd better get the Malfoys here, too. If all else fails, we'll break him out and send him to France on a Thestral. We'll look after him, Hermione." Harry patted her shoulder and gave her a gentle shove towards the fireplace.

Less than an hour later, as Hermione and Ginny crouched beside the Floo with soot in their hair and a list of people still to contact, Harry's Patronus galloped through the wall of the kitchen and gazed wisely down at them.

"The Wizengamot is convening in ten minutes down in courtroom ten. Come at once."

"Go," Ginny said briskly, "I'll join you in a few minutes." She had already taken her sons to the Burrow, although she had not explained to Molly what the emergency was.

Hermione seized a handful of Floo powder and plunged into the flames, breaking into a run as soon as she reached the Ministry and hurtling down into the bowels of the building. Just along the corridor from the courtroom, she skidded to a halt before two tall, elegant wizards who appeared to be holding a convivial conversation.

"Miss Granger," Lucius drawled, "good morning. Allow me to introduce you to Master Euripides Squiffle, head of the firm of Squiffle, Jinx and Scurrie, Master of Wizarding Law and Lore, and provider of general legal advice to the Malfoy family for the last five generations."

Squiffle, a cadaverous individual, raised a pair of lorgnettes to peer at Hermione and sniffed audibly.

"Is this the young person responsible for Professor Snape's lamentable condition? Well." He sniffed again. "I see. How unfortunate. I do hope you will sit still and keep quiet, young woman, and not jeopardise our case."

Hermione opened her mouth to tell the old man exactly what she thought of his bad manners, but Lucius placed a spotless black boot on her foot and pressed warningly. Squiffle nodded and strode away, his robes flaring, and Lucius muttered, "No time, we must go in." Seizing Hermione's arm, he drew her to a small, inconspicuous doorway. To her surprise, it let them in to the back of the courtroom where the members of the Wizengamot were already shuffling into their seats. Lucius headed for a shadowy corner, pushed Hermione onto one of the benches, sat down beside her and whispered, "Read this."

He passed her a folded copy of the Prophet. She lit her wand.

"Rita Skeeter, special correspondent, interviews the courageous war-heroine Molly Weasley in an exclusive insight into the affairs of the famous. Molly admitted, with a tear in her eye, that she had not always been on good terms with her now ex-daughter-in-law, Hermione Granger. 'But how she could leave my Ron and take up with that murderer, Severus Snape, a man old enough to be her father, with the ink barely dry on their divorce papers, I really can't say.' Granger, a bookish, ambitious young woman famous only for her friendship with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, had been seen in the company of notorious ex-Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. Has she already dumped one bad boy for another? Has Snape's miraculous return from death swayed her from her ill-advised relationship with the richest wizard in the west of England? – turn to page eight for more details."

"Skeeter appears to have an axe to grind," Lucius murmured. He leaned back on the hard bench with his arms folded, his eyelids lowered, but the cool grey eyes were alert as he watched the members of the Wizengamot.

"She hates me; I've had a run-in with the bitch before, but I could kill Molly!"

"The Weasley woman may have done nothing more than admit you've been in a relationship with Severus – which was your intention anyway."

"I suspect she volunteered the information. Is this why they've arrested him – because of this trash?"

"It brought him to their attention."

"You've been expecting this, haven't you?"

"It hasn't come as a surprise. Despite his Order of Merlin, there are plenty of people who haven't forgiven him for Dumbledore's death."

"But he received a posthumous full pardon."

"Apparently not so full. Ah, that's the chief warlock."

An elderly, cumbersome wizard flopped into his seat with a grunt, and the whispering died away. Down in the space before the tiered seats, a red-haired figure tapped upon the table with a gavel and cleared his throat.

"The Wizengamot is now in session," the chief clerk of the Wizengamot proclaimed portentously. "Fetch the accused!"

Severus was brought in at wand-point by four Aurors. He held his head high and walked steadily, his black robes swinging from his shoulders and his cloak flaring out behind him. People murmured and rustled as he passed them, but he stared straight ahead.

"Severus Snape," said the chief warlock, "you know why you're here. You have been accused of using Unforgiveable curses. Do you deny the charge?"

"No," Snape said quietly.

"Very good. You know that..."

"Excuse me, Chief Warlock Bunter," Squiffle called out, getting to his feet, "my client had excellent reasons for..."

"Mr Squiffle," Bunter rolled the syllables around in his mouth, as if savouring them. "Well, well, this is a surprise." A ripple of laughter ran around the benches of the Wizengamot. "Your client's excuses are not up for discussion at this time; this is a preliminary hearing. We are here to decide whether there is a case to answer – which there is, on Mr Snape's own admission – and what to do with him in the meantime. My own preference is to lock suspects and offenders safely away in Azkaban, but as you all know, I'm an old meanie." There was another gust of laughter. Bunter peered around with an air of satisfied complacency. "We will decide upon a date within the next six months for a full trial and..."

"Chief Warlock, my client's physical condition makes it unsafe for him to be sent to Azkaban."

"Really, Squiffle, is that so? He looks healthy enough to me, but of course, I'm not a Healer. Why, pray, should Snape not avail himself of the sea air and wide open views of our prime detention centre?"

"The anti-magic wards would be detrimental to Mr Snape's health, Chief Warlock."

"Hm. Well, we could all make that complaint, couldn't we? Snape, why should we not send you to Azkaban to await trial, hmm? Come along, give us your reasons, we haven't all day."

"As a result of a misdirected spell," Snape said in a clear and emotionless voice, "I am almost half way through a magically sustained pregnancy."

The clerk was forced to rap his gavel on the desk to restore order.

"Great Merlin," Bunter said with obvious distaste, "do we have a Healer in the Ministry who can confirm this rather implausible statement?"

A witch in a green robe stood up and stated that she had examined Snape and confirmed that he was indeed carrying a child.

"Do you also confirm that confining Snape to Azkaban will jeopardise his life?"

"Possibly," she said, "but not necessarily."

"Damn," Lucius whispered.

"I request that my client be granted bail, due to his previous good character and the risk entailed in imprisoning him within anti-magic wards," Squiffle said briskly.

The members of the Wizengamot leaned towards one another, whispering and glancing at Snape. Bunter turned right around in his seat to talk to the witches and wizards behind him. After about five minutes of conversation, he flapped a hand at the clerk in a demand for a call to order.

"Very well, very well. Snape will be freed on bail until the time of his trial, yet to be decided, on one condition: that twenty wizards or witches of good standing shall each be prepared to forfeit the sum of ten thousand Galleons if he fails to stand trial."