Chapter Two: If It Harms None, Do What Thou Wilt

Thank you for all the great comments and encouragement! I'm thrilled you're enjoying it!

I must, however, give credit where due. The oath Severus swears in the previous chapter ("Merlin's Rotting Rectum") is no more mine than, well, Severus himself. It was originally penned by the great RedSkyAtNight, whose incredible fics were sadly taken down years ago. It's one of my favourite swears, but I don't feel right in having folks think I made it up. Thanks to RedSky for such a filthy, hilarious oath!

Now, on to the staff meeting:

There's always one in every bunch: the naysayer, the skeptic, the one who says patent leather should never be worn after Mabun. Don't be swayed by them. In a ritual like Beltane, the mind must be open to all possibilities. If they are not...it's up to you to open them! That's what your wand is for.

~ Chapter Two: If It Harms None, Do What Thou Wilt...The Witchhiker's Guide to Beltane

~o0o~

It is said that a child conceived on this day will grow up to wield great power and knowledge and to be healthier than upon any other.

While the progeny of Wizarding Britain gorged on pumpkin pasties and bragged about their Houses' chances to win that year's House Cup, Rita Skeeter sat in her luxurious office at the Daily Prophet, pouring over the latest figures. Her readership was up twenty-three percent from last month, and her editor was talking about another raise...fifty-seven percent of her present salary. Not bad for Ivor Skeeter's skinny, buck-toothed little almost-Squib of a daughter. Rita smirked and adjusted one of her perfect curls. She loved proving the big boys wrong.

And she loved playing them for chumps as well. Ever since the new book had come out, Rita had been sprinkling a few well-placed rumours here and there about offers to move to the States and start her own publication house. Perbody J. Smoklehouse, Editor-In-Chief of the Daily Prophet, would have a litter of Crups before he let her go that easily. Nothing brought in the revenue like a good Rita Skeeter story. She honestly believed she could fart better copy than most of these hacks could produce in a year of work, and fortunately for her, dear old Perby felt the same way.

She looked over at her latest work and gave the book a fond little pat. On the dust jacket, the book's subject glared up her with a milk-curdling sneer of contempt, highlighting his preposterous nose and sallow complexion. Severus Snape: Nobody's Hero was a huge seller, even better than her Dumbledore bio ten years before.

She allowed herself a satisfied smile. She'd been vilified for that one, until the real facts came out shortly after the war. Only Rita had told the truth about old St. Dumbledore...well, a very good-sounding truth. The gist of it all was real enough to knock the barmy old coot off his altar and put him back in the dirt where he belonged. His popularity had dipped fourteen percent in the first four and a half months alone, and twenty-seven percent overall. Not a bad average.

And now it was Snape's turn. If that bitter old crow couldn't do the noble thing and shuffle off when he was at death's door, then he would have to face the music. Her sources informed her that since the book was released, demands to have him removed from the Hogwarts staff had risen forty-four-point-six percent.

Rita considered it her civic duty, really. The public had a right to know the truth. Or at least, they had a right to buy Rita's version of the truth. Didn't they?

She tapped a long, green-lacquered nail against her teeth. Everything would have been fine if that Granger bint hadn't cornered her in Diagon Alley, with her veiled threats and her holier-than-thou attitude. Rita had been spitting fire ever since that little reunion.

She had immediately cornered Ronald Weasley after his last proposal debacle. Twenty-two percent of her best flame stories came from jilted ex's. And after that fiasco in Ireland, he might be in the mood for a bit of vengeance gossip. But the ginger twat wouldn't even speak to her. He even had the audacity to have his lawyers threaten litigation if Rita tried to pursue the story further. Didn't the idiot know he could make money from his misery?

So Rita had gone back to basics and looked through every piece of back copy she could find, trying to find a dirty angle she could use to disgrace Granger, but the smug bitch was too goody-goody for words.

And now she was doing Snape, Rita was sure of it. She could practically feel it in her thorax. She was ninety-seven percent sure that was the reason Granger had threatened her with exposure again if she didn't climb off Snape's hunched back. Why else would someone like Granger stand up for a slippery creep like him?

Rita had spies planted everywhere, cameras in hand, just waiting for the opportunity to catch them somewhere together. She had Ron Weasley's flat on speed-Floo, just in case she needed to go and break the wretched news to the jilted lover and jump-start that lead again.

Scandal would get Granger off her back quite nicely, she thought, smiling to herself. It would almost be worth keeping it schtum for a bit. It might mean years...and Galleons...of blackmail. She would just have to be patient. Pride goeth before a fall, Miss Granger.

And she would fall. The goody-goodies always did. Law of averages and all that.

"So, let me get this straight, Minerva," Madam Hooch said, her yellow eyes glowing dangerously. "This May, we will be performing a complete and traditional Beltane rite, in full livery, with the entire Wizarding world watching?"

"That's correct, Rolanda," Minerva replied, with more confidence than she was feeling. The staff's reaction to her announcement had been, to say the least, underwhelming. She huffed in exasperation. "For Merlin's sake, it's not a human sacrifice, people! We are reviving a sacred ritual, one that has sustained magical folk for countless generations. Why, pray tell, are you all so unenthusiastic about it?"

Looking out at the group of sullen, uncooperative faces, she tried another approach. "What is so unsavoury about taking a venerated rite that we witches and wizards have performed since Merlin was a boy and showing the world how beautiful and unifying this type of social tradition can be?"

Severus, leaning against the mantle with his arms folded, pushed himself upright. "I fear it may be a case of too little too soon, and too much too late, Minerva."

"Gods, Severus. That is cryptic, even for you. What's that mean when it's at home, man?"

He gave a scowl of concentration. "I think many will see it as a gimmick set up by the Ministry to encourage the more conservative magical folk to engage in a bit of ritualistic tree-hugging to show how open-minded and free-thinking they are."

"Well, that's codswollop!"

"Didn't say it wasn't," he said, with an elegant shrug. "There may be others who might view it in less than bright light."

"Meaning?"

Severus suddenly looked uncomfortable, as if he wished he hadn't brought it up. He added haltingly, "Tom Riddle advocated the performing of ancient rituals for his own perverted use. There could be some who think this hits a little too close to those so-called Dark Revels." He couldn't meet her eyes. "Especially if it were discovered that certain persons, myself in particular, are participating."

The room erupted in a chorus of protests and angrily defensive declarations. Minerva, unnerved at his dispassionate but plausible argument, cried, "Everyone, please!" and the room gradually quieted. Before she could lose any more control, she gave them all a hard stare, and they settled back into grim silence.

As she opened her mouth to speak, a soft voice called out into the room. "Headmistress, may I say something?"

"Of course, Professor Granger," Minerva answered. The young woman stood, and looked around at her fellow professors. Most of them had been her teachers at one point, and they all, with one exception, had adored her feverish love of scholarship and industry.

Hermione faced them all with a rather self-conscious smile. "I hope I don't sound presumptuous, and I apologise if I do. But growing up in a Muggle home, I never participated in anything like this. I'd read all the Muggle stories about witches and warlocks, of course." She rolled her eyes, and everyone laughed shortly. The tension in the room seemed to ease by a fraction. "And I'll admit, I regarded these rituals as somewhat dark and sinister. People who didn't understand them spoke of devil and demon worship, and that all magical people were somehow in league with the dark forces.

"It took coming to Hogwarts to understand that people were merely ignorant of the true purpose of these rituals. They thought this way because they didn't know any better. I completely understand Professor Snape's reticence, with all due respect," she added quickly, turning toward him with a little bow, "but perhaps this is the best and greatest opportunity to prove that theory wrong once and for all.

"If we do this, not to glorify the Ministry and their ideas, but do it to act as a purification of the ritual itself, then we're doing our job, aren't we? We're educating. It stops being a dog-and-pony show for the government, and it becomes an educational tool to show that these rituals are nothing to fear, but something to embrace as our culture and our love for nature and one other."

"Well said, Hermione, well said!" Filius answered, applauding. The other teachers, with one exception, nodded thoughtfully, and Pomona Sprout squeezed Hermione's shoulder encouragingly. She blushed and looked around hastily, a little abashed at the reaction.

"Thank you, Hermione. I couldn't agree more. We shall stop promoting this as the Ministry's do, and treat it as a lesson to be taught. Besides," Minerva said with a smile, "This is supposed to be a retreat for us as well. Three years ago I had the opportunity to visit Knappogue Castle. It's a very luxurious spa retreat. Two pools, five wet bars, all private en suites, you know the type.

"Well," she added with a flourish, "Filius and I have been doing a bit of Transfiguration on the fourth floor, and we've managed to recreate the entire spa in the Northwest wing! I've even asked two of Knappogue's masseurs and one of their bartenders to be on hand during Spring hols. While we're preparing and rehearsing for the ritual, we can retire there in the evenings and do a little team building, as the Muggles say. That's a lot of massages, hot springs and letting our hair down, while we're pondering the mysteries of Beltane, wouldn't you agree?"

Now that got their attention! Even Severus had dropped all pretence of ignoring her. "Face, it, my friends," Minerva, added, taking it home, "you'll never get more relaxed and legless cheaper."

"Well, that's more like it, Min," Rolanda crowed, rubbing her hands in anticipation. "You should have told us that in the first place instead of all that ritual rubbish."

"Oh, make no mistake, the ritual will be an involving, time-consuming part of it all, but in between, what happens on the fourth floor stays on the fourth floor." She eyed them all as throats were cleared and faces flushed guiltily.

The general chatter sounded much more relaxed as Minerva signaled for quiet once more. "Now, one more order of business, and I'll let you go. As you know, the Beltane ritual is comprised of several smaller rituals culminating in a dance at the end. We will perform the rites themselves on the Quidditch Pitch. Filius has been overseeing the redesign, which will transform the pitch to suit out needs following the last game of the season. It's the perfect place to hold the ceremony and the dances afterward."

"Oh, yeah," Hooch said, her eyebrows waggling lecherously. "All those lovely dancers in the light of the bonfire. Leaves you randy as a stoat."

"Yes, thank you, Rolanda. There will be students present for parts of this," Minerva replied archly, giving her a withering look. "My point is that the ritual requires a witch and a wizard to act as the High Priestess and High Priest, who will in turn become the embodiment of the god and goddess. These roles require a great deal of preparation. The Room of Requirement will be used by our High Priest and Priestess to rehearse separately from the entire group."

She glanced at Filius, who gave her a solemn wink. "I don't have to tell you how important these roles are. The High Priest and Priestess are our gateway to the divine aspect of the rituals. They call all the rites to order and perform the more intricate and formal ceremonies. Further, they will receive a bonus from the Ministry due to the extra work they will have to do to get everything in order."

The faculty started twittering amongst themselves again, each eyeing the other. "Do we volunteer, Headmistress?" Sybil Trelawney asked, rising from her chair as if she'd been pulled up by her hair. Behind her monstrous glasses, her eyes blinked owlishly; her thin, thready voice wafted through the air like the smoke from a sputtering candle. "In that case, I would be willing to put myself forward as..."

"While I appreciate your sacrifice, Sybil, in this case that will not be necessary," Minerva declared, smiling indulgently at her Divinations professor. "The Deputy and I have already decided that your High Priest and High Priestess for this year's Beltane will be Severus and Hermione."

A collective gasp sucked all the air out of the room, and both Severus and Hermione looked at Minerva in growing horror.

Severus began to sputter like a Muggle motorboat. "But...but, but why me? Potter...he's your man! He should be the High Priest..."

Minerva stopped him with a look. She'd been prepared for this argument, thank Merlin. "Harry Potter has his own part to play in the ritual. Now, this is quite exciting, and very confidential. We're keeping this part a complete secret, so you must not tell a soul; it'll spoil the surprise." She looked out into their curious faces. "Wands out. You'll all take a wand oath of secrecy."

After the reluctant oath was given, she continued, "At the point where the Oak King is ready to return to the goddess, Harry will perform the rite of the Firebringer. He will be the embodiment of the bonfire as the symbol of good banishing the darkness. It's a very difficult role; he has to train very hard for this. He'll actually 'become' the fire. He's already started training for it...it takes a huge amount of stamina and magic to perform the rite."

"Oooh, I was in Yugoslavia several years ago for Beltane and saw that rite enacted. It was very impressive. Nice touch, Min," Pomona Sprout said with a smile.

"It's not been performed here in Britain for over two hundred years, so it's going to really increase the wow factor, I can assure you," Minerva added, feeling slightly dizzy with relief. She caught Filius eye.Well, we certainly dodged that Avada, didn't we? his eyes seemed to say.

"I want this to absolutely bring down the house, as the Muggles say, hence the wand oath to keep this a complete secret. I don't want anyone giving that away," she replied, fixing her eye on Severus. "Now, I want you two to meet with me on Wednesday, and we'll discuss the schedule you'll need to follow."

Turning away from their pale, astonished expressions, Minerva beamed at her staff. "Right! Now, isn't this exciting? We'll talk more during the next staff meeting. Good night, everyone!"

She and Filius almost ran out of the room. "What do you think?" Minerva asked her old friend as they sped down the hall. "Do you think they'll balk? I thought Severus was ready to walk out for a moment!" She dabbed at her upper lip with a handkerchief. "Merlin, I haven't been so nervous since I took my N.E.W.T.s. I think they'll do it, don't you?"

Filius patted her hand reassuringly. "Of course they will!" he declared breathlessly, running to keep up with her long strides. "I wanted to kiss Severus for bringing up Harry Potter...that was the perfect distraction!"

"It may have waylaid the others, but Severus wasn't buying it," she added ruefully.

"Oh, pish tosh! This is exactly what Severus needs. And Hermione as well. She's got to convince young Weasley that all this mooning is counterproductive and distracting. Not to mention pointless." He stopped her by grabbing her hand. "It will be wonderful, Minerva. For all of us. You wait and see."

After the rest of the staff filed out, talking heatedly amongst themselves, Severus turned to Hermione. She was wearing a look that was equal parts excitement and terror. Finally, unable to withstand his silent, flat stare, she gulped, "Well, I must say I didn't expect that! It's...rather exciting, don't you think?"

Severus shook his head. "I can think of several adjectives, but exciting isn't one of them." He sat down heavily in a chair. He shook his head and hissed to himself, "What on earth is Minerva thinking?"

"...When I returned from Christmas hols Professor McGonagall suggested this book on the revival of the old rituals..."

"...It's obvious that sly harpy already had this planned. A fait accompli." He fumed. "And they call Slytherins devious..."

"Have you read it?"

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her hopeful 'let's-make-the-best-of-things' expression, then frowned. "Read what?"

She made an exasperated little tutting sound that he remembered from her days mothering Potter and Weasley, and resumed digging around in a small handbag, muttering, "It's in here somewhere." She shoved her entire arm down into the bag, to Severus' bemusement. Clever little witch, that. The bag was about as large as a small wallet...nice bit of extension charm work.

"Oh, I just saw the ..." Suddenly she made a sound of triumph. "Aha! Here we are!" she announced and produced a small golden book with a flourish. "The Witchhiker's Guide to Beltane, by Sebelius Slunt."

"Sebelius Slunt? That sounds like Wizarding Rhyming Slang for..."

"Yes, I'm very aware of Wizarding Rhyming Slang, thank you," she replied prissily. "It's a very approachable and entertaining look at the entire process of Ritualism. I think you might find it an enjoyable read."

He managed to prevent himself from rolling his eyes. Barely. "Professor Granger. Hermione. Why on earth would I want to be entertained by a piece of pop-culture trash?"

She plopped down in the chair next to his, waving the book under his nose. "It's not pop-culture. It's a very accessible guidebook to the rituals. I mean, they're very complex."

"I'm well aware of the complexities of ritual..."

"Then you are well aware that the culminating ritual of Beltane is the fertility rite. That's when the High Priest and High Priestess represent the God and Goddess during the ritual. It's rather ..." she blushed charmingly. "Well, it's all a bit s-sensual and erotic, quite frankly." She gulped and looked at her hands, her face scarlet. "The goddess runs through the hedges, and the god must catch her, and when he does, well, erm, it's all rather ... you know, s-sexy, actually."

Severus paused. Suddenly, this ritual bollocks didn't sound all that heinous. "I see," he replied, lowering his voice by a minor third and settling a layer of sable over it. "So you and I will be reenacting the mating of the god and goddess." It was almost worth it to see a little gleam of something appear in her warm brown eyes.

She stammered, "Well, we, erm, yes. I mean, if one takes it symbolically..."

Severus watched her squirm her way through the explanation, growing colder by the second. It was obvious she had been reading up on this; it was also obvious that the idea of having him as her consort, even symbolically was about as attractive as if the role were given to Argus Filch.

He interrupted her with a terse, "Are you sure you're a good enough actress to symbolically overlook all my shortcomings?"

She stared at him blankly. "Sorry, I'm not following you."

"Granger, I'm not blind. I'm saying you no doubt would prefer performing this 'sensual and erotic' ritual with someone whose physical attributes were more pleasing. I'm old enough and ugly enough to know I'm old enough and ugly enough." He could not prevent the bitter tone from leeching into his voice. "I don't need a mirror to know I'm not exactly Gilderoy Lockhart."

Her eyes widened in alarm. "No, you're not, and thank fuck for that," she stated baldly. She gave him another exasperated huff. No wonder Potter and Weasley ran from her like the plague when she was on the warpath. "There's nothing wrong with you physically, Severus. Merlin knows, if I have to do this with anyone, I would want it to be you."

He looked at her obliquely. "Would you indeed? Either you are an appalling liar, or you really do need to get out more, Professor."

Ah, now there were the flashing eyes he saw at Hogsmeade! Her brows rushed together in that instant, and she gave him a look that was both angry and hurt. "Oh, don't be such an arse, Severus! I just meant that, we'll, this is going to be seen on the WWW! They say it adds at least a stone to your bum alone."

Baffled, he retorted, "Why? Are you planning on eating it? Talk sense, Granger!"

"I'm saying that the camera makes one look fat! I'm not really into exhibitionism, but when you add the factor that I'm going to be cavorting around in front of the entire world with an extra stone on my bum..."

She broke off, and looked away. "This is an important, if not the most important ritual in our culture. It's prestigious to have the role of the god or goddess."

Severus looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She was absently chewing on her thumbnail. "So it's not just the idea of being seen with me then?"

She made that charming little growling sound again. "Your insecurity is showing, Snape. I'm trying to say, well, I'm trying to say that it just feels like it's a private thing, and, well, you and I are one thing, and you and I and the entire Wizarding populace ogling us is quite another." She gave him a sheepish, apologetic shrug. "I'm a witch. Can I help it that I want to look dead sexy while you chase me in front of all those millions of witches and wizards?"

Feeling more pleased that he should, Severus replied, "I'm sure that the more, shall I say, explicit parts of the ritual will be edited for the WWW broadcast, Granger. No need to worry about Weasley seeing you dancing around the bonfire in your smalls."

The look on her face was so priceless it took all his training not to laugh. "Umm, it didn't mention having to strip down to your underwear in the book," she said, skeptically, frowning as she rifled through the pages. "I'm sure I would have remembered mention of dress protocol..."

He should have resisted. He should have kept his mouth shut. Instead, he leaned over, and in his silkiest, most sinuous voice replied, "Actually, participants in the Beltane ritual traditionally dance skyclad."

She froze, her eyes so large he thought they would fall out and roll across the floor like two marbles. He smirked, "I can imagine worse things for the Wizarding populace to see than you belly-dancing around a balefire wearing nothing but a smile."

Then the realisation of his words dawned on them both almost simultaneously, and Granger's mouth twisted into an answering smirk. "Well, then. I look forward to your equally naked tango, Snape."

He watched her as she rose from her chair, grinning down at him. In a voice too innocent to be innocent, she cooed, "Sleep well, Professor."

Alone, Severus dropped his head into his hands, and wondered which god he'd pissed off this time. He was going to have to dance, naked, around a bonfire, on the WW Bloody W.

He could Avada himself now, and save the trouble of memorising all those incantations...