Chapter 7

Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth. The sum was astronomical; surely no-one would be prepared to risk that amount – and the horrible old warlock knew it, judging by the way he was leering at Snape, highly pleased with himself.

"I'll stand ten thousand for Professor Snape," a familiar voice called from the back of the dungeon.

The chief clerk, quill in hand, said in a bored voice, "Just come into the light so we can see you, and then state your name and occupation, please."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake – Draco Malfoy, company director."

"As I said, twenty wizards or witches of good standing," Bunter called out, amusement in his voice. "No-one else? Then I –"

"Harry James Potter, Auror."

Silence followed Harry's voice, in which his ringing footsteps echoed as he walked forwards to stand beside Draco. Lucius gave Hermione a little nudge, breaking her tense concentration, and she pulled herself to her feet, clinging to the back of the bench in front of her. Snape had better not run off; she couldn't lay her hands on ten thousand Galleons.

"Hermione Jane Granger, Unspeakable."

Harry turned to smile at her as she tottered to his side.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic." Kingsley's slow voice held a depth of reassurance; he came to stand behind Harry with his arms folded.

"Ginevra Potter, journalist and sports reporter."

"William Weasley, curse-breaker."

"Fleur Delacour-Weasley, 'ouse-wife and muzzair."

"Arthur Weasley, head of the department for Magical-Muggle Co-operation."

"George Weasley, shop proprietor."

"Angelina Weasley, Quidditch player."

"Luna Lovegood, magazine publisher."

Luna smiled mistily at Hermione as she came to stand in the little crowd. There was a pause, and then a set of brisk footsteps sounded behind her as a crisp voice declared, "Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts." For the first time, Snape showed a flicker of emotion; his black eyes widened as he turned his head to stare at his ex-colleague.

"Filius Flitwick, Deputy Head of Hogwarts."

"Neville Longbottom, Professor of Herbology, Hogwarts."

Hermione bit the knuckles on her fist, her eyes stinging.

"Blaise Zabini, spell-crafter and charms consultant."

"Pansy Parkinson, interior designer."

"Horace Slughorn, Professor of Potions - retired, you know, but always happy to help an old colleague."

After another pause, a voice drawled, "Lucius Malfoy, retired company chairman, currently undertaking academic research."

"Took your time," Harry whispered as Lucius took his place.

"Something to do with 'of good standing', I suspect," George muttered and Angelina elbowed him sharply. Lucius pretended not to hear.

When a familiar voice called out, "Ronald Bilius Weasley, Auror," Hermione very nearly sobbed. He gave her an embarrassed little grin and a shrug.

"That's twenty, Chief Warlock," the clerk said.

"I made it nineteen," Bunter snapped, thoroughly ruffled.

"Oh, did I not say?" The clerk cleared his throat officiously and scribbled on his parchment. "Percival Weasley, chief clerk of the Wizengamot. There, that's your twenty, sir."

"Severus Snape, you will not be sent to Azkaban; however, I am very reluctant to release you to run amuck in Wizarding Britain, casting who knows what curses here there and everywhere. Do you have his wand?" He gestured at the Aurors guarding Snape. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm.

"The old cheat, he can't snap his wand!"

"Chief Warlock," Kingsley remarked in his deceptively slow, easy voice, "I suggest that Severus Snape is released into the custody of someone of unimpeachable conduct and reputation, with the power to restrain him if required."

"Whom d'you suggest, Shacklebolt? I'm not letting him go to anyone untrustworthy, mark you." He glared at Lucius, who responded with a supercilious sneer.

"Harry Potter."

Bunter fidgeted with his quill and then flapped a hand.

"Yes, yes, get on with it then. Let him go."

"Snape's wand, please," Harry said pointedly and waited until one of the Aurors produced the wand and handed it over. Harry tucked it up his sleeve into his wand holster. "Professor, please come with me. Ron, Hermione, you'd better come too."

Hermione saw Draco catch Harry's eye and give a short nod, which was returned, and then Draco hurried to whisper to his father.

"Conspiring with Slytherins, are we? My word Potter, think of your reputation," Severus murmured. Harry's expression, as he cast Severus a sideways glance, was almost amused.

"The trouble was, as teenagers we were far too self-involved to appreciate the droller side of adult humour," Harry said.

"And you are so much older now – so wise and venerable?"

"I'm old enough not to rise to your bait, Professor."

"I am no longer anyone's professor, thank Merlin."

"The relief is mutual, I assure you."

As they left the courtroom, a tall, severe witch in tartan robes pushed past Hermione.

"Severus Snape! You – you impossible man! How could you do this to us? You wretch, you let us all mourn you as dead!"

"Headmistress," Severus said, with a dip of his head, "I had no choice in the matter at the time."

"But later, boy! You could have sent an owl!"

"Would you really have wanted me back?"

McGonagall made a sound of exasperation and threw her arms around his neck. Severus staggered slightly and patted her shoulder, looking both embarrassed and surprised.

"Minerva, please control yourself; there are journalists present."

"You idiot," she sniffed, releasing him and groping in her sleeve for a handkerchief, "why didn't you contact us? Where have you been? What have you been doing?"

"That's a long story," Severus said darkly.

"Then you must come to Hogwarts and tell it over a wee dram."

"A cup of tea perhaps, whiskey no longer agrees with me."

She cocked her head.

"What was that about a baby? Is it true what they said in the hearing?"

For an answer, he pulled his robes taut for a moment to display his distended belly.

"My word, surely not a potions accident?"

"I'll explain later."

"See that you do, young man, or else I'll send Filius to come and get you."

"Oh, yes, indeed," squeaked Professor Flitwick from down near Hermione's thigh. "However, Headmistress, we'd better hurry back. My fifth-years will be charming the clothes off each other by now."

"And my lot will be in among the Mandrakes," Neville said. "Glad you made it, Professor."

"Longbottom!" Severus snapped.

Neville paused while the other professors hurried away towards the public Floos. "I gather you avenged me," Severus said in a silky tone.

"What? Oh, the snake. Evil bugger, I chopped its head off with Gryffindor's sword. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Severus inclined his head. "That was well done."

Neville stared for a moment before nodding back, a gesture of respect between equals, and then he followed Flitwick away up the corridor. Severus watched them go, something oddly like yearning in his eyes.

Ginny nudged Hermione.

"Skeeter's on her way."

"Get me out of here before I throttle the cow!"

Harry snorted. "You read the Prophet, did you? I need to have words with my mother-in-law."

"Don't, Harry. You'll probably never know exactly what Mum said; you know how Skeeter misinterprets everything."

"You're right as usual," Harry sighed.

"Molly's never really liked me," Hermione pointed out. "Remember when Skeeter wrote that I was your girlfriend and I'd dumped you? The year of the Triwizard Tournament? Molly believed her. Not giving Ron babies was just the final nail in my coffin."

Ron's ears went red, but he didn't deny the accusation.

"Right, we're going back to our place," Ginny said briskly. "Professor, one of us will have to take you Side-Along to get through the wards."

Hermione stepped to Severus' side. He gave her a thoughtful look as they set off to the Ministry's Apparition point, but did not speak. He allowed Hermione to grasp his wrist and Apparate him to the front garden of Chervil Cottage. Hermione suspected that she knew why he looked around warily, but although Harry and Ginny had bought a house in Godric's Hollow, it was out of sight of Lily and James' old home.

Ron cleared his throat. "Do you really need me here? I can go back..."

"Yes, we do," Harry said forcefully, "we're up against the Wizengamot, mate; this needs all three of us."

"The Golden Trio." Severus' smooth voice was as deceptively bitter as dark chocolate.

"Exactly," Harry snapped, turning to him, "except that this time, the trio is fighting on your side, so don't knock it. Use it to your advantage. Gin, d'you want to go and get the boys while I sort out some lunch?"

Ginny met her husband's eyes and her mouth curved into a rather scary smile.

"Yes, that's a good idea. I might be a little while." She turned on the spot and winked out of sight.

"Perhaps I should..." Ron started to turn but Harry grabbed his arm.

"No, Ron. If you go, your mum will end up shouting. Ginny will wheedle the info out of her, and with luck, she'll even find out what spell she used."

They went into the house. Chervil Cottage, despite its quaint name, was a modern, spacious Wizarding home, as unlike number twelve, Grimmauld Place as it was possible to get, apart from the single elderly house-elf who glared at them from the kitchen doorway.

"Will Master wish to prepare his own lunch again, or will Kreacher be allowed to be a proper house-elf and actually cook?"

"Hello, Kreacher," Hermione said, which earned her a sniff.

"You'd better cook," Harry told the elf. "How about your famous chicken soup?"

"The chicken soup that Kreacher is allowed to make once in a blue moon? Yes, if Master wishes, Kreacher will try to remember the recipe."

"Great!"

The elf snorted audibly and pattered away into the kitchen, muttering, "Chicken soup indeed. My old Master and Mistress had proper luncheon, yes indeed, with five courses and wine to boot, and desserts and pastries ..."

Harry turned to Severus.

"Is chicken soup acceptable? I thought you might want something light after this morning's ordeal."

"Acceptable," Severus murmured.

"Something to drink while we wait – cup of tea?"

"Water," Severus said. Hermione thought he appeared paler even than usual and wondered if the Apparition had upset his stomach. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Didn't they allow you anything to eat or drink this morning?"

Severus gazed guilelessly at him.

"Yes, but because Veritaserum can have ill effects upon a growing foetus, I accepted nothing."

"They can't do that!" Ron exclaimed. "Not without Ministerial approval! Anyway, Veritaserum is tasteless; how would you know?"

The look that Severus turned on Ron would have shrivelled a schoolboy, but it made even the adult Auror take a step back.

"King's Potions has the Ministry contract for the supply of truth sera," Severus said in a voice like ripping silk. "Are you suggesting I am unable to identify one of my own potions?"

"Um, no ..." Ron muttered, shifting his feet. Meanwhile, Harry levitated a drinking glass from the draining board, moving it under the tap, which he turned on; after allowing it to fill, he floated the glass to Severus – all wordlessly with his hands stuck in his pockets. "Show-off," Ron grumbled. Severus accepted the glass and drank from it thirstily. For some reason, Hermione was fascinated by the bobbing of his Adam's apple with its fine tracery of silver scars.

They followed Harry into the living room. Severus settled himself smoothly into an armchair and finished his glass of water. Kreacher staggered in a moment later, bearing a tea tray far larger than he was and muttering under his breath. Hermione knew that Ginny had provided him with an elf-sized tray, but he refused to use it. Kreacher had raised domestic martyrdom to the level of a Shakespearean tragedy and battled daily against Harry and Ginny's reluctance to overwork him.

"Tea, Master," he groaned, hefting the tray onto the coffee table, "as Master requested. Kreacher lives to serve, indeed he does. Tea, Master says, soup, Master says, tidy the garden, Master says, dust the stairs, Master says ..."

"Thanks, Kreacher," Harry said cheerfully, and Kreacher rolled his eyes and shuffled away. Snape accepted a cup of tea. He looked like a crow, hunched with his beaky nose over his teacup. His black robes pooled around him on the arms of the chair, outlining his shoulders and arms. He shifted, sitting up and arching his back slightly as if it ached, so that his robe pulled around his body and tightened over the vulnerable curve of his belly.

"I've spoken to some of the members of the Wizengamot," Harry said in between gulps of tea. "You were granted a full posthumous pardon for the death of Albus Dumbledore, but unfortunately, the pardon didn't mention the use of Unforgiveable curses."

"That's a technicality, surely?" Ron asked. "I mean, so what? The bloke's forgiven, that should be the end of it."

"Unfortunately we're dealing with the law, Ron," Hermione said, "and more to the point, with the Wizengamot – some of whom have reason to hate Death Eaters."

"I was unpopular as a teacher and as headmaster," Severus said. He sipped his own tea primly, a wordless reprimand. Harry's eyes glittered with appreciation and he deliberately gave a slight slurp.

"That's totally petty and reprehensible," Hermione protested. "Harry, for Merlin's sake, grow up! Surely they need to accept that you were spying for us and under tremendous pressure! They can't imprison someone for sarcasm, surely?"

Harry abandoned his attempts to wind his companions up and leaned forwards with his hands hanging between his knees.

"There's more at stake here than just Snape. It's the Ministry's anti-Slytherin bias at work, like when Narcissa died."

Severus raised an interrogative eyebrow.

"Surely she was killed by a Slytherin?"

"Yeah, but there wasn't much effort to find her killer, was there? The case was given to me, only I'd just got my Auror's badge and I hadn't much of a clue. You don't give a murder enquiry to a complete novice unless you're not bothered whether the case ever gets solved. I only made it because I was given excellent unofficial advice from Kingsley and a couple of Tonks' old friends. See, if Narcissa had been a high-profile Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, the case would have been handled by the top Aurors in the murder squad. Kingsley is working hard and doing great, but he can't change everything on his own."

"You intend using me as a poster boy for Slytherin, do you?" Severus sneered at him. "Good luck; you'll need it."

"If it makes you feel better, you can tell yourself that I'm not doing this for you – I'm doing it for justice."

"Potter the hero rides again."

Hermione choked back a groan. Severus' hands were clenched on the arms of his chair, and Ron's expression was dangerous, his hand hovering over the wand in its belt holster.

"Hate me as much as you want," Harry said evenly, "although you might find things go more your way if you work with us rather than against us."

"I could make your life hell, Potter," Severus ground out. "I know what you're really like."

"Been there, Snape, got the t-shirt. You see, I know what you're really like."

Severus and Harry glared at one another, and then Severus countered in a smooth, conversational tone. "I see you finally mastered the art of Occlumency."

Harry clearly recognised the peace-offering for what it was.

"Eventually, yeah, I got the general idea."

"Who had the dubious pleasure of teaching you?"

"Kingsley."

"Of course, only the best for the Golden Boy."

Harry's green eyes glinted behind the rectangular frames of his spectacles.

"Yeah, good job he was on our side, he's a damn good wizard. He told me..."

But what Kingsley had told him was never revealed. A loud and indignant screeching noise from the kitchen made Ron leap up, wand in hand.

"Oh, that's the owl trap!" Harry strode quickly into the kitchen, returning with a large cage floating before him. It contained a very angry eagle owl clutching a red leather satchel in one talon.

"He's called Trojan," Severus said calmly. "Lucius sent him, knowing that I'd recognise him."

Harry released the door of the cage, and the owl immediately scrambled out and flew to Severus, dropping the satchel in his lap. It wheeled around the room making snapping sounds with its formidable beak, flying from window to window until Harry let it out.

Severus opened the satchel and peered in, gave a small nod, and then closed it again.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly, "but I need to examine that."

"Am I to be allowed no privacy?"

"Allowing you to keep it without checking will cost me my job," Harry stated. "If you're not sent to Azkaban after that, you'll find yourself in the care of Gaius Stott. He was very eager to arrest you and was the one who put the Veritaserum in your drink this morning."

Severus picked up the satchel and held it out. Harry took it and looked inside.

"What are the potions, Professor?"

Severus sighed as if asked to perform an onerous task against his will before lifting out the rack of vials and holding it out to Hermione.

"I doubt if you will take my word for anything, so perhaps your friend will identify them for you."

Hermione pointed to them one by one.

"Anti-nausea potion, general iron and vitamin tonic, this one's to keep hormones in balance, a headache remedy, this one's for blood pressure and this for indigestion and heartburn. They're all specifically formulated to be safe to take during pregnancy."

"Very gracious of Malfoy," grunted Ron. "What's he up to?"

"He isn't up to anything; he's Severus' friend!"

"Oh, 'Severus' is it, now?"

"Ron, what part of 'we're having a baby together' do you not understand?"

"I want to know what Malfoy has to do with anything; I don't trust that slimy..."

"Stop it!" Hermione was dimly aware she was shouting and that the three wizards were staring at her in astonishment. "Shut up, all of you! This isn't going to fucking work, is it? You're all going to snarl and throw hexes and bring up every bloody insult and slight from ten years ago and Severus will get sent to Azkaban and he and the baby will die!"

"Well, yes, that's one possibility," drawled a familiar voice from the doorway, "although there are plenty of people who intend that nothing of the sort will happen."

Harry and Ron had their wands trained on the intruder. Draco held up his hands to show they were empty.

"How did you get in here, Malfoy?" Ron snapped.

"I accompanied my wife and son, naturally, and they were invited by Potter's charming wife, who gave Astoria the password, and your house-elf let us in. Is Mrs Potter not here?"

"She's gone to get the boys," Harry said, still training his wand on the Malfoys. Astoria, a tall, elegant young witch in a designer robe, was accompanied by a female house-elf pushing a baby in a silver perambulator and another witch whom Hermione recognised from their own year at Hogwarts: Astoria's sister, Daphne Greengrass. Daphne gave a little cry and dashed across the room to clasp Severus around the neck and kiss his cheek.

"Severus! Oh, Merlin, we were so worried! Are you unharmed? Did they hurt you?"

Severus patted her silk-clad shoulder and murmured, "I'm fine, Daphne, don't fret," although he didn't sound particularly reluctant to be fussed over.

Daphne lowered her voice and asked, "Are you sure? Is everything all right – in here?" She rubbed his tummy lightly.

Hermione's chest felt so tight that she could hardly breathe. How dared she?

"I assure you, my dear, I am quite well." Severus' voice was smooth and slightly amused.

Daphne perched herself on the arm of Severus' chair and gazed down at him fondly while Hermione gritted her teeth.

"Thank Merlin for that. Now, Draco and I are going through all the outstanding orders; we'll make up the straight-forward ones and owl them out, and send everything that we can from stock, of course, and we'll owl everyone else and explain that the business is on hold as a result of personal circumstances. Do you want us to cancel the adverts in the papers?"

"Yes, it would be best. I doubt that the Potters will allow me to run my potions business from their kitchen."

"Surely you're not staying here!" Astoria exclaimed. She turned large blue eyes to her husband. "Draco, Severus must come and stay with us!"

"It isn't possible, I'm afraid," Draco said, and wasn't it odd that his was the voice of reason in this increasingly infuriating conversation? "Severus hasn't been freed; he's on bail pending trial and no doubt there are stringent rules in place to ensure the safety of the Wizarding public from such a notorious criminal."

"You don't say," Ron muttered, earning him glowering looks from all the Slytherins.

"Unfortunately, that's the case, yes." Harry, by contrast, sounded businesslike and not unfriendly. "At present, Professor Snape isn't allowed to go anywhere without an accompanying Auror."

"And that's you, is it, Mr Potter?" Daphne asked coolly.

"Yes, that's me."

"How pleasant for you. You'll have ample opportunity to have your revenge on Slytherin."

Harry settled himself into a chair and placed his fingertips together beneath his chin.

"Mm, that's right. My wife is helping me; she wickedly suggested that we start by inviting another new mother and baby, with her husband and sister, round for coffee and a chat, who just happen to be Professor Snape's business partners and friends. We've evilly asked our house-elf to make some nutritious chicken soup for his lunch, and no doubt we'll plan some equally devilish nastiness for dinner – probably cursed lamb chops, new potatoes and peas."

Kreacher chose that moment to appear levitating a large pot of soup, bowls and a basket of bread rolls.

"Here is soup," he croaked, glaring around, "as Master commanded. Here is enough soup for everybody except baby; soup is too chunky for baby, for baby might choke. Kreacher must make pureed soup –"

"No, he's just been fed," Astoria said hastily, as if she suspected the elf of evil intent toward the blond baby sleeping peacefully in his pram. The little female elf was gently pushing the pram back and forth in a rocking motion; she glared at Kreacher as if daring him to attempt to feed her precious charge.

"I'm fine," Daphne said loftily, "but do go ahead; don't miss your lunch on our account."

"Look, I'm going back to work," Ron told Harry, "but I'll have a word with Kingsley, shall I?" Harry nodded, and Ron waved at Hermione and hurried out, the pop of his Apparition sounding a moment later.

"Severus didn't have any breakfast," Hermione said. She wanted to get into the conversation somehow; she felt as if she was not so much excluded as simply beneath the notice of these pale, self-styled Slytherin aristocrats. They didn't even look around at her, but rather crowded around Severus, fetching his soup from Kreacher, offering bread, asking if he had taken his potions and if he was sure he was well.

It was with great relief that Hermione heard Ginny arrive. James ran into the room, stopping dead with a squawk of astonishment when he saw all the strangers, and then scampered to his father, who bent down with his arms outstretched and lifted the toddler onto his lap. Ginny followed him, carrying Albus. Daphne and Astoria fluttered to admire the baby. Ginny returned the compliment by cooing over Scorpius, which was so completely out of character that Harry caught Hermione's eye and winked; she managed a twitch of a smile in response. Draco took the opportunity to sit down near Severus and engage in a low-voiced conversation as Severus finished his soup.

Hermione tried desperately to look as if she didn't care when Daphne returned to Severus and resumed her perch on the chair arm.

"You will attend your appointment with the Healer, won't you?" she said solicitously. "And make sure that you get enough exercise without overdoing it."

"I shall endeavour to follow the Healer's instructions, insofar as my situation allows."

"We'll get you released," Daphne assured him, as if being confined to the Potter household was one step away from consignment to purgatory. "Draco already has some ideas. You mustn't worry."

Albus awoke and began fretting, which set Scorpius to crying lustily, and the Malfoys and their entourage left shortly afterwards. Hermione allowed herself to relax until she caught Severus watching her with his trademark sneer and an amused glitter in his black eyes. Feeling angry at herself for allowing her emotions to show and at him for being a bastard, she retreated to the kitchen where Ginny was now feeding the baby.

"I hadn't realised before what a vapid cow Daphne Greengrass is," Hermione said, trying to sound unconcerned.

"She did rather drape herself over him, didn't she?" Ginny settled Albus more comfortably at her breast and smiled down at him.

"The way she was patting his stomach, as if she had a right to touch him ..."

"Hermione, the Malfoys and Daphne have been Snape's only friends for seven years."

Hermione winced.

"Yes, I suppose they have. If I want the right to crawl into his lap I'm going to have to earn it."

"Who says you haven't already got it?" Ginny asked placidly. "Come on, why wouldn't a middle-aged and rather plain wizard want an attractive young witch plastering herself all over him? He tolerated her in front of us, but I doubt if he could actually live with her. She's a bit superficial and gushing." She squinted up at her friend. "You sound as if you want to make a go of it with him."

Hermione shrugged elaborately. "I'm thinking about it."

"Hmm, and the luscious Lucius? What about him?"

"What about him?"

"Harry and I wondered if you were getting rather too fond of him."

"Perhaps I am."

"You can't have them both."

"Can't I?" Hermione smiled in what she hoped was an enigmatic manner and returned to the living room before Ginny prised any more uncomfortable truths from her.