Epilogue

Disclaimer: If I owned it, they'd probably have to cast John Cleese in the movies, somewhere. ;-) Not to mention Rowan Atkinson.

Epilogue

"Madame Mab, we've got a problem," said Pip, intern at the offices of the International Fellowship of Fairy God-Mothers and Other Do-Gooding Beings.

Mab pushed her gold framed glasses up on her tiny nose and frowned down at her intern. Pip was always dramatic, but he seemed a little more agitated than usual. "What problem is that, Pip my boy?"

"It's this requisition for a fairy godmother," he said, placing the paperwork (which was almost as large as his boss) on the desk. "Pooky in the Identification of Worthy Projects Department found a... being... which apparently qualified for some sort of reward in the aftermath of the Granger Case."

"Holy Titania! Not the one -- Fletcher's Godchild?" Mab asked, flying from her long-legged chair to the top of the desk to begin perusing the file. That Regina Fletcher had made Master was one of the great mysteries of life, as far as Madam Mab was concerned. Her and her psychology! Barmy overly-literate ball of fur.

Mab's jaw dropped as she read the request. "Is this some sort of joke?"

He swallowed. "Um, no, Ma'am," he said, apologetically. "Any sentient being with a pure, noble heart and a reasonable heart's desire is, under the guidelines of the Blanket Non-Discrimination Policy of--"

"All right, all right, I know regulations!" Mab shouted, stamping her small foot on the blotter. Her wings quivered with agitation. She flipped through the few pages of the file, her lips pursed in concentration as if searching for an out somewhere in the paperwork on the latest deserving client. Finally she sighed.

"Send Blueleaf to do it," she said heavily. "And make sure it never gets back to Fletcher. It's bad enough she's giving the young recruits strange ideas by recounting all the havoc she wrought, getting that Granger witch together with her wizard. We'll never be able to contain her if she knows that she sparked another sponsorship with her reckless actions."

"Right away, boss," Pip squeaked.

"Don't call me 'boss,' you wanker," Mab growled at the youngster's back. Her wings drooped. "Sod it, I've been spending too much time around that damned Jarvey!"

Blueleaf, Fairy Godfather (Journeyman First-Class, Pixie division) cautiously entered the gentlemen's lavatory at the Ministry of Magic ballroom and banqueting space. Everything was clean, gleaming and in excellent repair this day. There was no sign of the reported damage in the wake of Regina Fletcher's (by now) legendary case of matching Hermione Granger, famously brilliant witch, with her puzzling heart's desire--Severus Snape, infamously disagreeable wizard.

He had to confess, he was glad it had been Fletcher's turn in the rotation when that case came up.

He slowly approached the wall at the end of the room. His eyes focused on the Endless Warm Towel Dispenser. To the average wizard or witch, it still looked quite ordinary, if perhaps a little shinier than one might expect. But Blueleaf knew his business, and this thing had the undeniable air of That Which Can Think and Feel. However, it had no apparent means of communication.

Well, here goes nothing, he thought.

"Greetings, Endless Warm Towel Dispenser. I am Blueleaf, Fairy Godfather (Journeyman First-Class, Pixie Division). Due to your recent heroic actions and acquisition of sentience, I am here to grant your heart's desire," he recited dutifully.

The Towel Dispenser tingled with a sense of wonder and gratitude, as it wordlessly conveyed its request.

One year later, the Midsummer's Eve Ball at the Ministry was in full swing, and so too was the romance between Severus Snape and Hermione Granger. Snape found it rather fun to once again be on the receiving end of Potter's and Weasley's intensely focused ambivalence. Especially since he was now free to hex them back in self-defense, should they be foolish enough to think they had caught him unawares. Or better yet, step back and watch Hermione jinx their arses off. She tended to be in the mood for a great deal of 'comfort' after such incidents, and he was more than happy to oblige.

As for Hermione, it had become perversely enjoyable to attend Ministry functions, now that the obligatory invitations carried the palpable though unwritten message, 'Please don't bring him as your date!' Not to mention she had found an entirely new pastime to enjoy at said functions. Slipping out for a snog during the course of such an event had become, for the two of them, the equivalent of a nicotine addict rushing out for a much-needed smoke.

They were deeply engaged in said activity when Hermione was overcome by one of her more randy moods.

She slipped her hands into Severus' robes and began to caress him. Disengaging her lips from his, she whispered ticklishly against his neck, "Mmmm, Severus, the hallway is empty... Why don't we--"

"Hermione, love," he muttered warningly against the rim of her ear, "you'll lose the little social standing you have left if we're caught shagging in the halls."

"What can I say--I love living dangerously," she breathed, slowly sliding her belly up and down against what was threatening to become a most impressive erection.

"You've spent too much time in bad company, you naughty little Gryffindor thrill-seeker," he said. His lascivious smirk belied the reproof in his words.

"So, take away house points, you nasty old pervert," she giggled. Her eyes still glowed with mischief, but her voice lowered seductively as she hooked her knee around his thigh and said, "but do it quickly so we can get to the shagging."

Glancing up and down the hallway, he pressed a helping hand against her pert little bum and she obligingly hopped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He backed awkwardly towards the door of the gent's lav, quickly casting a spell to detect whether or not it was occupied. Finding it empty, he slipped his wand back into his sleeve and ducked in.

Hermione fastened her lips to his again, one arm firmly seated on his shoulders so she could play with the ends of his luxurious black hair, as her other hand slipped between them to free his erection. With a few expert movements, he worked the hem of her robes up over her hips, then seated her pretty bare arse on the edge of the sink to free his hands (and spare his back).

"Eeek! This sink is cold!" Hermione squealed.

Suddenly, they heard a soft click, almost like an apologetic cough of interruption. Severus turned, noticing (for the first time) the most unusual Towel Dispenser. A particularly thick, soft and warm-looking towel descended from the device's aperture.

Hermione's tongue on his earlobe brought him back to more important matters than the disquietingly bizarre yet familiar appearance of that bathroom fixture. With a flourish, he snatched the towel from the machine and lovingly tucked it under her bum with a bit rolled up behind her, so as to protect her from the cold porcelain and the protruding taps.

"Naughty minx," he said with a smirk, "you planned on something like this tonight."

"I didn't notice you wearing underwear either, darling," she gasped, as his hand found its way up under her robes to her breast.

"We'll have to make this quick," he murmured, ducking down to push his face between her thighs. Hermione squealed ecstatically as he began lapping at her warm, fragrant nether lips. Encouraged by her fingers twined in his hair, he pumped his tongue into her welcoming channel and rubbed her clit with his nose, teasing her with short exhalations of breath. As her thighs and fingers tensed, heralding her climax, he quickly stood up and shoved his cock into her.

As he pumped madly, she exploded in his arms, biting him forcefully on the neck. (He had long since learned to turn aside quickly if he wanted to keep his nose intact.) Reveling in the twitching, tight slickness in which he was embedded, Severus let go, allowing himself a moan of profound satisfaction.

For a scant moment they rested, his forehead against the cooling glass of the mirror, her curls trailing down his back as her head hung over his shoulder in happy satiety. Knowing, however, that enjoying the afterglow would have to await the privacy of either his bed or hers later that night, they reluctantly moved apart enough that Hermione could slide down from the sink. Rather than toss the towel in the laundry chute, Severus covertly Reducio'd it and slipped it into his pocket. He couldn't resist keeping a little souvenir of their more adventurous amatory exploits.

A quick Cleansing Charm and they were both presentable again, if a little too flushed for propriety. Severus peeked out the door, determining that the coast was clear before escorting his wanton witch out into the hall again.

"Oh, love, that was exhilarating," Hermione whispered, as she smoothed her robes carefully. "But I have to say, I found that iridescent purple, ruby and emerald encrusted Endless Warm Towel Dispenser just a little distracting."

FIN (This time for sure!)

A/N:

That's all, folks--I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! My ambition is to make the world a better place, one punch line at a time.

Towel-y sends lots of love and kisses. As a professional courtesy, he kept his eyes closed the whole time. Unlike us rather less couth souls.

;-)

I have it on good authority that Regina Fletcher celebrated her promotion to Master Fairy God-Jarvey by sidling over to The Plaid Pooka Pub and getting absolutely plastered with some snarky little bloke named Turpin. If Reg hadn't created one of her 'diversions,' someone would have had to post bail for them.

It's all done, LariLee! The good little punctuation marks of the world are safe from me, for now. Thanks for everything!

Finally, thanks to Lotm, for the 'epilogue bunny.'