A Day in the Life

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Disclaimer: It's all JK Rowling's. No money has changed hands.

A/N: Huge apologies for the long hiatus of this story. The next chapter is underway and, hopefully, won't take quite as long.

Thanks as ever to Septentrion, my very patient beta.

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'Katy, will you please hurry up? You're going to be late for school.' Having already bundled a still bleary-eyed Albus through the Floo, Hermione was standing by the fireplace, tapping her food impatiently as she waited for her daughter to make an appearance. That girl is so laid back, she's almost horizontal. 'Ka...'

'Okay, okay.' Katy stomped into the living room, a fur-lined cloak slung over her arm.

'Why on earth are you wearing those?' Hermione enquired, frowning at Katy's sturdy footwear.

'We're going on a field trip. I did tell you... last night?' At her mother's surprised expression, Katy sighed. 'You haven't done my picnic lunch, have you?'

'I don't remember you saying anything... Oh, never mind.' Hermione placed the pot of Floo powder she was holding back on the mantelpiece. 'Winky!' I need you.'

The house-elf appeared in the blink of an eye. 'How may...'

'Katy needs a picnic lunch,' Hermione snapped. 'And be quick about it. I haven't got all day.'

Winky bowed and disappeared.

'There's no need to be so mean to Winky, Mum.' Katy's eyes narrowed as she glared accusingly at her mother. 'It's not her fault you can't remember things.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

Katy opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again when Winky reappeared clutching an enormous picnic basket. She smiled. 'Thank you, Winky.'

The elf beamed at Katy before vanishing.

'I'd better get going.' Katy hurriedly took a pinch of Floo Powder and threw it into the grate. 'See you later, Mum.' Grabbing the basket, she called out, 'Hogsmeade Junior School,' and stepped into the flames, leaving behind a rather confused Hermione.

Picking up her (now cold) cup of coffee, Hermione reheated it with her wand and sank into her chair with a grateful sigh. Even with Katy's surprise announcement, she'd still managed to scrape a good half hour to herself before first period. First-year Charms. Such a doddle; she could teach that standing on her head with one hand tied behind her back...not that she didn't have meticulously prepared lesson plans, mind.

Ah... Bliss. She chuckled guiltily and sipped her coffee, determined to enjoy every minute of it. Having the Deputy Headmaster for a husband certainly had its benefits; devising the timetables might be an onerous duty, but Severus had turned that to his advantage, making sure Hermione's Monday mornings weren't too demanding and steadfastly refusing to countenance any grumbles from the others about preferential treatment. Even with the aid of magic, Hermione knew it was impossible to please everyone, anyway, so she didn't let it trouble her conscience all that much.

It was also a bonus not having to face all the noise and bustle of breakfast in the Great Hall, Minerva having long ago exempted her from that duty because of the children...a privilege for which Hermione was especially grateful. On many a hectic morning, when she was running late, Hermione was lucky if she managed to grab a slice of toast before rushing off to class. But on those occasions, like today, when she was able to get Katy and Albus off to school relatively on time, Hermione could order what she fancied from the kitchens and enjoy a few precious moments of solitude before the start of her working day.

No Severus, no children, no teaching. This was her time.

She was just about to order her breakfast tray when her eyes fell on the magazine on the table: Charm Matters. Hermione smiled, remembering the previous afternoon when she had returned from her walk, and Severus had... Severus had...

Driven me crazy with lust, put me over his knee and... and... said he was going to fuck me hard later. But, he hadn't...

Wrinkling her brow in consternation, Hermione went over the previous night's events. The children had come home; she had made dinner, and got them ready for bed. And then she had gone into the bedroom... and... She rubbed her temples as her head started throbbing. Why couldn't she remember? And what had Katy meant?

'This is ridiculous.'

Putting her cup down, Hermione got up and went into the bedroom. She hesitated by the door. Yes, she'd... she'd... gone over... to the dressing table. Yes, that was it. She crossed the distance quickly and stared at her reflection. Picking up her hairbrush, she dragged it through her hair and paused thoughtfully.

'Mirror, did you say something about getting a haircut last night?'

'Yes, dear,' the mirror replied. 'You were having trouble getting the tangles out.'

Ah, yes. She remembered now. She'd taken something for a headache... and gone to sleep. Severus must have decided to leave her rest. Yes, that must have been it. Mystery solved, Hermione swept her hair up and twisted it into a chignon.

'Gods, I'm turning into Minerva.' Hermione shook her head in dismay. Something really had to be done about it. Maybe Saturday? She had an appointment with Madam Malkin, anyway, and there was that new hairdresser Ginny was always raving about; she could owl her for his details at morning break... Yes, that sounded like a good plan.

Breakfast forgotten, Hermione returned to the living room, gathered up her marked essays and made her way to the Charms classroom.

* * *

'I don't want excuses, Miss Simmonds.' Hermione flicked her wand at the board, erasing the instructions she'd put up at the beginning of the lesson. 'I had to learn how to use a quill at your age as well, you know. It's not that difficult.'

'But, miss, I...'

'When I set a deadline for an essay, Miss Simmonds,' Hermione continued, ignoring the girl's protests, 'I expect to see your parchment on my desk at the appointed hour. Now, I suggest you go to the library at the earliest opportunity and complete the task I set you. Any further delay will result in the loss of house points. Do I make myself clear?'

Hermione watched the dejected, and probably homesick, Muggle-born leave her classroom and join her friends, who were waiting for her by the door.

Not my problem, she thought, flexing her aching back. First lesson over, thank heavens.

Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Hermione shook her head at the idiocy of the combination. It was so bloody frustrating. Three weeks into term, and there were still several Hufflepuffs who hadn't managed to master a basic Levitation Spell. Three weeks! The Ravenclaws had looked so bored, she'd assigned them some extra reading. But at least they were trying their hardest, which was more than could be said for some of the Gryffindors in her next class. They were even less interested in Charms than Ron and Harry had been...which was something of an achievement.

Still, there was break and a free period before she had to engage in another battle of wills. If she got a move on, she could make it to the Owlery and back and still have time for a quick cup of tea. A brisk walk might loosen her up a bit and clear her head, too. Smoothing out a scrap of parchment, Hermione penned a quick note to Ginny and tucked it in her pocket before hurrying from the room. She turned right, away from the babble of teenage voices congregating at the other end of the corridor. It was a slightly more circuitous route, but little used. With any luck, this way she wouldn't bump into anyone who would hold her up with idle conversation. She was worked up enough as it was without sacrificing her mid-morning cuppa.

A house-elf shot behind the suit of armour he'd been polishing, but Hermione scarcely noticed as she strode past. On reaching the stairs, she put one hand on the banister and hitched up her robe with the other, pausing briefly to glance down the dimly-lit corridor that ran off at a right angle to the stairwell. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione glimpsed a flash of something white disappearing into one of the disused rooms.

'Odd,' Hermione muttered. 'That door should be locked.'

Only too aware of the castle's tricky nature, Hermione felt duty bound to investigate. Hopefully, it would only take a minute. Probably a cat, she thought, entering the empty corridor. Her echoing footsteps were the only noise in the still space, and she drew her wand instinctively, casting a Silencing spell on her shoes to muffle the sound as she walked. She'd just passed the room where Fluffy had once stood guard when she heard a plaintive mewing, and the door opposite clicked on the latch. There was only one cat she knew of that could do that.

'Minerva? Is that you?'

Cautiously, she peered around the door. 'Minerva?'

But there was no sign of anyone, and she would have closed and Charmed the door locked, if it hadn't been for the enormous mirror standing on clawed feet, floor to ceiling in the middle of the room.

'No... It can't be.' Ron and Harry had told her about it, of course, but in all her years at Hogwarts, Hermione had never seen it for herself. With some trepidation, she crossed the threshold and took the few short steps necessary to read the inscription on the ornate gold frame. It left her in no doubt:

'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.'

Hermione closed her eyes, wanting and not wanting to see the manifestation of her heart's deepest desire. After all, she had a loving husband, children, career (well, maybe that wasn't so great), so what, really, could it possibly be? Her parents? Maybe she'd see her Mum and Dad...like Harry had. But, in any case, a quick look wouldn't harm, would it?

Curiosity getting the better of her, Hermione took a deep breath, opened her eyes again and waited patiently for the fog to clear...

Nothing seemed to be happening. She wondered briefly if there was something the matter with the enchantment; no charm lasted forever, and this particular magical artefact was getting on a bit. Hermione watched the mists as they continued to swirl, great Catherine Wheels of rainbow colours until, eventually, the last tendrils dissipated, and she was left with... her reflection.

She blinked. 'That's... impossible.'

Now, Hermione was no expert, but even she knew that only the very wise...or the very simple...desired nothing and therefore would see only themselves in a mirror such as this. And she also knew that she was neither of those things. There had to be something... She inched forward and her reflection smiled, holding out her hands.

Biting her lower lip, Hermione tilted her head, critically examining the image in front of her. Perhaps she looked a little... younger? More... vibrant? The dark circles around her eyes she'd acquired from many nights of restless sleep were notably absent... Her boobs were higher and her figure didn't look quite so... rounded as it'd been since Albus' birth... Surely she wasn't so vacuous as to want to be young again?

Hermione's reflection just stood there, arms outstretched, smiling.

'I look... happy...' Was that it? 'But... I am... happy.' She backed away slowly. Harry had told her he'd sat for hours staring blissfully at what could never be, but for some reason, she felt unnerved by the experience. She didn't look like that anymore...she wasn't sure she'd ever looked like that. Tearing her eyes away from the smiling girl, Hermione fled the room. She needed a sit down and a very strong cup of tea. The letter would have to wait.

* * *

Double Charms with the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years was descending into chaos. The object of the lesson...a very straightforward Levitation Spell, in Hermione's opinion...had not been accomplished, despite her clear and detailed instructions. There were feathers all over the place. She was fed up and rapidly running out of patience. Why couldn't they just listen?

'No, Edmonds. Swish and flick.'

It had been a most trying morning.

'Oh, for heaven's sake, Mr MacGuire. You're holding the wrong end! Do you want to blind yourself?'

Diarmud MacGuire grinned back sheepishly. 'Sorry, miss.'

Hermione ignored him, demonstrating the importance of a snappy wrist action for the umpteenth time to a largely disinterested class. 'Swish and flick. Better, better.' She looked daggers at a small group of Slytherin girls. 'Miss Davenport, your wand is a delicate instrument, not a Q-tip. In future, please attend to your ear-wax problem before coming to class.'

Miss Davenport looked bored. The other girls sniggered.

Win-GAR-dee-um Lev-ee-OH-sa... OH-sa. Again. Keep practicing.'

'What's got into her, today?' Peter Edmonds muttered under his breath to his new best mate. Smirking, Crispin Harris passed him a note under the desk. Peter unfolded it and put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh, glancing furtively at Hermione.

The bell rang for lunch.

'WAIT!' Hermione shouted over the racket of chairs scraping on stone. 'I want a three foot essay on Levitation Charms and their applications by a week next Wednesday. Extra marks will be awarded for comparisons with similar spells.' As the class started to scramble for the door, she remembered the letter in her pocket. 'Oh, and is anyone going to the Owlery lunchtime, by any chance?'

'I am, miss,' Crispin volunteered.

'Would you mind sending this for me, please, Mr Harris?'

'No problem, miss.'

The chattering and general noise died away. Hermione turned her head towards the door, sensing a familiar presence. She saw Peter Edmonds trying to stuff something up his sleeve, but he wasn't quick enough.

'What have you got there, boy?' Severus loomed over the young Gryffindor, who looked suitably intimidated.

'N-nothing, sir.'

'I'll be the judge of that.' Severus held out his hand, Summoning the parchment effortlessly. Scowling, he stared at it and turned it sideways. 'That, Edmonds, is not anatomically possible. Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention with Mr Filch for one week, starting tonight. Now, get out of my sight!'

Edmonds didn't need to be told twice and legged it down the corridor after his friends.

'I wish I could do that.' Hermione sighed.

'What? Put the fear of God into the little buggers?'

'I think I'd be satisfied I could just get them to stop talking long enough to cast a decent spell,' she replied, rolling her eyes. 'I almost called Macguire a dunderhead today. I only just managed to stop myself.'

Raising an eyebrow, Severus smirked. 'It's good to know I have such a positive effect on my wife's teaching methods.' He strolled over to the window and gazed out over the grounds.

'So, to what do I owe this pleasure?'

'Hm? Oh, I...um...' Severus folded his arms across his chest as he turned to face her. 'I've just... uh... been to see Septima about an Arithmancy problem I was having difficulties with, and as I was passing, I thought I would escort you to the Great Hall...being the gentleman that I am.'

'Great, I'm starving...' She tilted her head slightly. 'Are you okay? You look a bit frazzled.'

'What? No, no I'm fine.'

'Sure?'

He nodded. 'A bit of a headache. Nothing serious.'

'Okay, then. Just let me get my things, and I'll be with you.'

Leaning against the window sill, Severus watched Hermione rummaging through the papers on her desk. 'Who were you sending an owl to?' he asked.

'Ginny... Now where did I put that...?'

'Oh?'

'Yes. Ah, there it is...' Hermione retrieved a quill from under the desk. 'Auto-Answer,' she said, holding it up. 'Confiscated from one of your Slytherins.'

'And... Ginny?'

'Hm? Oh, I've an appointment with Madam Malkin on Saturday...'

'But, I'm on chaperone duty!' Severus huffed. 'I was going to suggest lunch in the Three Broomsticks.'

'Were you? I'm sorry...' Oh, dear. She'd disappointed him again if the set of his jaw and the way his bottom lip was sticking out ever so slightly was anything to go by. Others may have been oblivious to such a small change in his expression, but having seen a more pronounced version of it on Albus' face every time he couldn't get his own way, Hermione knew a pout when she saw one.

'There's no need to pout.'

'I do not pout.'

'Of course you don't,' Hermione replied, joining him by the window. She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders, but he did not respond. 'Look,' she said, 'I really need to buy some new teaching robes...and I need something dressy for Harry's charity bash the weekend after Halloween, too. The robe you bought me for my birthday isn't really suitable for a ball.'

He snorted. 'Really.'

Hermione decided to try a different tack. Trailing her hands down his arms, she picked at an imaginary speck of fluff on his sleeve. 'And I thought that... maybe just... maybe, mind... I might buy a new... outfit for playtime, as well... But then again, I suppose I could go shopping in Hogsmeade instead.' Demurely, Hermione looked up at her husband to see his eyes glittering in amusement. That was better.

'Minx.'

'And,' she said, stroking his chest, 'if you're a good boy, I might just buy you something, too.'

'And if I'm a bad boy...?' he asked, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her towards him.

'Then you might, just might, mind you, get to play with them...and me...Saturday night.' She laughed as his stony countenance softened. 'I've asked Ginny to take the kids for the day, but seeing as we were so rudely interrupted by our inconsiderate son last week I might, if you ask me nicely, ask Ginny if they can sleepover.'

Suppressing a grin, Severus licked his lips before kissing her soundly. As his hands start roaming towards her breasts, Hermione knew she had to create a diversion...and quickly...if she wanted any lunch, and so, giggling, she broke the kiss.

'And just what do you find so amusing about my kisses, Professor Granger?'

'I was thinking about what we did in this classroom once,' Hermione replied, smiling up at him. 'Do you remember which desk?'

'Of course. How could I ever forget.' He nodded towards the furthest row. 'It was that one over there, if my memory serves me correctly'. Taking Hermione's hand, he tried to pull her towards it.

'Naughty.' She pulled away and started to walk towards the door. 'Come on. We're late enough for lunch as it is.'

'Tease,' he said, giving her a swift smack on the backside.

'Ouch!'

'You deserve to be punished for that blatant attempt to distract me, Professor Granger,' he growled. 'In fact, I may enforce the no knickers rule on a weekday.'

'You wouldn't.'

'Oh, but I most certainly would.'

Hermione squealed as Severus caught hold of her robes and yanked her back against him. Pushing a tendril of hair out of the way, he whispered in her ear, 'What do you think your adolescent, spotty-faced pupils would say, if they knew that their illustrious professor was... walking around with no knickers on like some common tart, hmm? Tell me that.'

Snorting with laughter, Hermione wriggled around in his arms so she was facing him.

'And what, pray, do you find so amusing, now?'

'I was only thinking that with this lot, I might just find out.'

He frowned. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Well,' Hermione replied, 'there have been a few 'badly cast' Wingardium Leviosas accidentally aimed my robes already. I've managed to foil them so far but, you never know, one just might get lucky, and then they'd all get an eyeful.'

'The little bastards,' Severus tried to keep a straight face, but failed miserably.

'They're absolute horrors,' Hermione said, shaking her head. 'I can't recall anyone trying that on Professor Flitwick in my time.'

'Nor in mine.' Severus shrugged. 'But then again, he didn't have your legs...' Chuckling, Severus put his hand on Hermione's elbow as they moved towards the door. 'Come on. Let's go and get something to eat. Oh, and by the way, did I mention there's a head of house meeting this evening...?'

* * *

Listening to Albus' steady breathing, Hermione crept out of his bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her. More monsters under the bed. He certainly had a vivid imagination, that child. She shook her head, wondering about the root of his fears and insecurities, but at least the bed-wetting phase seemed to have sorted itself out at long last, which was something. Peeking around Katy's door, Hermione checked her daughter wasn't disobeying her by reading under the bedclothes, and then returned to the living-room.

There was no sign of Severus yet, but staff meetings could go on forever, as Hermione knew only too well. Feeling tired but not the least bit sleepy, she sat down in her chair and flicked through Charm Matters, scanning Bill Weasley's article on Egyptian runes, yet again, envying him his fascinating...not to mention glamorous...career. She shook the feeling off, reminding herself with a long sigh of the number of Curse Breakers killed or seriously injured in the field each year. It was a sobering thought. No, she really was much better off teaching at Hogwarts. Severus had been right, as usual: Curse-breaking was far too dangerous a job for a woman. Shaking her head, she glanced at the clock. Five minutes and Winky would be here with the cocoa.

* * *

Sitting in the chair closest to the fire, Severus was starting to feel drowsy as the meeting dragged on. The room was stuffy; Aurora's habitual plea for more telescopes was enough to send the most desperate of insomniacs to sleep, but so long as there was no other business, and Pomona didn't drone on about her greenhouses, then Minerva would wrap things up, and...

'Thank you, Aurora. I shall bring it up at the next financial meeting with the Minister.'

It seemed Minerva was as anxious to finish as he was.

'Anything else?' Minerva glanced at Pomona, who shook her head. 'No? Good. Then, thank you everyone... Oh, just a minute, I almost forgot. Severus, I need you to look over the agenda for the governors' meeting before you go, if you wouldn't mind...'

Severus suppressed a groan as Minerva handed him a sheaf of papers and bid him goodnight. He dropped the bundle onto his lap, pretending to scan the top sheet as the staff room emptied, but his eyes were refusing to focus. He was tired; the events of the past twenty four hours were preying heavily on his mind. Especially when he'd awoken and... Severus rubbed his eyes.

What the hell got into me?

He'd been trying to rationalise his behaviour all day. The loss of control had been inexcusable, but the most worrying aspect of the whole affair was that, while he could remember the anger, everything that had followed was just a confused blur. And erasing Hermione's memory of the incident, he knew, had been a rushed decision born of panic; he'd obviously hurt her physically, but it was the expression on her face as she was lying there...that look of apprehension combined with passive acceptance...that had decided the matter.

Severus ground his teeth in annoyance as he replayed the scene in his head for the umpteenth time; he'd never had recourse to issue a direct order to forget anything before...well, there had been that nonsense with the house-elves and one or two other little things where he'd felt justified in demanding Hermione's compliance, but they hadn't been as a result of anything like that... No, no... Taking everything into consideration, he had probably done the right thing.

So... In that case, why had he felt the need to check up on her at lunchtime...as if she might still have some recall of the episode, even though he knew that to be impossible?

Guilt. It was guilt.

...Do not berate yourself. You acted in her best interest......

Ignoring the worm in his head, Severus threw the pile of papers on the floor, stretched out his long legs and leaned his head on the back of the chair. An old memory was stirring and it was not a happy one. That look. That resigned look. It had been painfully familiar...he'd seen it before, all too often, on his mother's face, Friday evenings, when his father used to stagger home from the pub, three sheets to the wind. What if his anger got the better of him again? What if he was turning...

...A dutiful wife takes an interest in her husband's endeavours. She deserved to be punished....

'Not true,' Severus whispered, twisting the ring on his finger.

Oh, her lack of interest in his research had undoubtedly incensed him, and that indifference, combined with his own frustrations, had made him want to teach her a lesson. Severus mulled this over, remembering his pleasure in making her beg for release. He'd wanted to make Hermione pay for her apathy, all right, but not like that. And, anyway, over the course of the evening, his irritation had abated, and his equilibrium had returned.

So what had been the trigger for his fury? Had it been the sight of a compliant wife, naked and head bowed, waiting to do his bidding as she'd been ordered? Perhaps... Yes, that had been the start of it... that blind acquiescence... It had enraged him, and... part of him had wanted her to argue with him, fight back...the girl he'd fallen in love would never have just lain there and taken it...but there had been no reaction, and then something had snapped and...

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This wasn't getting him anywhere. Thanks to his ever present critic, his thoughts were going around in circles. He played with the ring again, trying to block its pleas to put the entire episode behind him. Would it harm, he wondered, to silence its persistent nagging for just a little while?

Hesitantly, Severus eased the ring over the knuckle and let out a grunt of relief. After ten years of marriage, such... aggravation should not occur. The rings were supposed to bring harmony and contentment to the couple that wore them; he and Hermione should be as one by now, but... something was definitely not right. Severus stared at his finger, wishing he could just take the damned thing off completely.

And then where would I be? Would she ever forgive me?

Somehow, he doubted it. She would in all likelihood leave and never look back... No, for better or for worse, his course was set, and there was nothing he could do now other than live with the consequences. But... Gods... How much longer could it be before he was granted some peace?

Yawning, Severus folded his hands in his lap. It had to be soon; this couldn't continue indefinitely. And in the meantime, he would make a conscious effort to rein in his temper, or at least make sure he was nowhere near Hermione when he felt his anger rising. All he had to do was to be more vigilant of his moods in future and spot the danger signs. And then it shouldn't prove too difficult to keep his distance...

* * *

Where on earth was Severus? Hermione drummed her fingers on the arm rest. This was soon accompanied by an impatient jiggling of her left leg. Feeling increasingly agitated, Hermione got up and began to pace on the hearth rug. She turned and narrowly missed a collision with Winky, who had materialised with a tea tray and two mugs of cocoa. The elf squeaked in alarm as hot liquid splashed out of one of the mugs.

'I-I... Sorry, Winky, are you all right?' Hermione asked, voice full of concern. 'You haven't burned yourself, have you?'

Winky's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets in surprise. 'No-no, Miss,' she stammered. 'W-Winky is unharmed.'

'I'm relieved to hear it.' Hermione's hand began to pat her thigh. 'Have you seen Severus, by any chance?'

Winky shook her head as she put the tray down on a side table. 'Not today, Miss, no.'

'Where can he be?' Hermione muttered under her breath. Glancing at the door, she yanked the neck of her robe. 'Is it me, or is it hot in here?'

'Miss?'

'It's terribly stuffy, don't you think?' She moved away from the fire, feeling slightly woozy. 'I can't... I feel... I think I need some air.'

'Is Miss all right?'

'No, I'm... Would you mind keeping an eye on the children until Severus returns, Winky?' Striding towards the door, an almost imperceptible wand flick brought Hermione's travelling cloak flying out of the bedroom to settle around her shoulders. She paused, one hand on the door-knob. 'Tell him I've gone for a walk.'

Winky didn't have a chance to reply. Hermione had already flung open the door and stepped over the threshold. But as it swung back on its hinges, Hermione's left arm shot out, and Severus' broom flew into her outstretched hand seconds before the door slammed shut behind her.

She hurried away from the dungeons with only one thing on her mind, Out. I have to get out. Breaking into a sweat, Hermione ran up the stairs to the Entrance Hall, her eyes searching for her goal...the great oak doors...and fought off her growing nausea as she dashed across the hallway and into the cool fresh air. No one saw her hasty departure, except the Grey Lady, who took little interest in the sight of a female professor leaving the castle with a broom in her hand. Tonight was Mabon, after all.

Outside, without giving it so much as a second thought, Hermione mounted the broom and kicked off into the night sky. She was airborne, soaring above the pinnacles, before the realisation hit her.

'What in Merlin's name am I doing?'

The broom seemed to sense her sudden panic and veered violently to the right and down--heading straight for Ravenclaw tower. Hermione pulled up sharply, trying desperately to remember anything Severus might have said about his broom's idiosyncrasies. It has a tendency to pull to the right. She tried to steer it left, but the broom was having none of it and tried to unseat her.

'Ohgodohgodohgod.'

Hermione hung on for grim death as the broom struggled for control and banked right, heading out over the Forbidden Forest. Despite a lot of cursing, swearing and cajoling, Hermione had absolutely no effect on its flight path. Unable to master the broom, she had no choice but to let it have its own way. If it kept this up, Hermione reasoned, she would fly around in a wide circle. Maybe she could ease the broom into a gentle, gradual descent on the way back? It was the best plan she could come up with. Hopefully, she wouldn't crash into anything in the meantime, wrecking Severus' pride and joy in the process.

If this doesn't kill me, Hermione thought, Severus will.

She carefully eased the handle forward; the broom responded with a shudder and plummeted towards the forest canopy. Screaming in terror, Hermione managed to stave off a collision by sheer instinct, rolling left to avoid a spruce tree, her cloak ripping as it snagged on a branch. The broom decelerated abruptly as a result but kept on the trajectory that would complete the loop it had begun.

At least she was now flying back roughly in the direction of Hogwarts, though the beads of perspiration trickling into Hermione's eyes were making it difficult for her to see properly. Hermione tried to shake them off, being afraid to take one hand off the broom and wipe them away. Blinking rapidly, she was too preoccupied with averting disaster and a painful death to notice the smoke rising from a small clearing beneath her. It was only when the green sparks shot up and erupted into tiny stars and spirals directly in her path that she turned her head. Looking down, she briefly glimpsed a group of people in the strange green light before she was skimming over the treetops once more.

Pointed hats...

Witches...?

'What the...?'

Hermione slackened her grip as she looked back in surprise, briefly losing what little control she had; the broom dived, with no heed for its passenger, through a gap in the trees. With a crash landing imminent, Hermione reacted without thinking: she drew her wand, cast a Cushioning Charm at the fast approaching forest floor and jumped. She bounced once and then landed, sprawled flat on her back. Severus' broom followed her with a clatter and lay, inert, at her side.

Tentatively, Hermione flexed her fingers and toes before raising her head. Nothing seemed to be broken.

'Stupid stick,' she mumbled. 'I'd chop you up for firewood if I thought I could get away with it.' Grunting, Hermione got to her feet and straightened her robes.

Despite feeling a bit wobbly, Hermione knew she had to move. The Forbidden Forest was no place for a lone witch to be dawdling. She glanced around, trying to find her bearings, but she had no real idea of her location or which path would lead her home; she might end up walking around in circles all night if she wasn't careful. Silently, Hermione weighed up her options: Apparition wasn't possible as she was within Hogwarts' protective wards, and there was no bloody way she was getting back on that broom.

'Lumos!' The tip of Hermione's wand shone brightly. Placing it on the flat of her hand, she cried, 'Point Me!' The wand spun around a few times before settling in line with her middle finger. That was odd... She would have sworn that north was in the opposite direction.

'Oh, well.' Stooping to grab the broom, Hermione set off. The back of her neck prickled with the feeling that several hundred pairs of eyes were following her on her journey, but she did her best to ignore it.

The sound of fallen leaves crunching beneath her feet was deafening in the otherwise still forest. With her sweat rapidly cooling in the early autumn air, Hermione began to shiver as she picked her way through the undergrowth, following the trail set by her magic compass. There were few obstacles in her way, but she hadn't progressed more than a hundred yards or so before she was hit with the almost overwhelming urge to turn back.

'A repelling spell? Out here?' Hermione pressed forward cautiously, ignoring the disquieting feeling that she really needed to be somewhere else. 'Why would someone...?'

A hooded figure stepped into her path, brandishing a wand. 'State you bus...' The hood was thrown back hastily. 'Hermione? What are you doing here?'

'Pomona?' Hermione stared at her friend and colleague in amazement. 'I could ask you the same question.' She sighed. 'Basically, I had to get out of the castle, and this is where I ended up.'

Pomona Sprout noticed the broom in the younger witch's hand but refrained from commenting.

'Were you with those people I saw earlier...?' Hermione glanced down at her wand, which was still indicating she should proceed on the path that Pomona appeared to be blocking. That couldn't be right; that clearing would have been south from here, not north.

'You saw us?' Pomona smiled as she sheathed her wand. 'Come, Hermione. And welcome.'

'Where to? What's going on?'

'You'll see. Come.'

Pomona led the way. Soon, Hermione heard voices and the peals of female laughter breaking the stillness of the forest. A green flash lit up the trees just ahead of them, making Hermione squeak in surprise.

'Don't worry,' the older witch said, laughing. 'Almost there.'

Hermione felt the rippling magic of another defensive spell washing over her, but there were no ill effects as they passed through it and entered the clearing.

'Wait here while I inform... erm. Stay here.'

Letting the broom fall to the ground, Hermione peered through the eerie gloom. She could just about make out several groups of people huddled around a large cauldron. A few of them had noticed her arrival and were obviously commenting on her presence. Hermione thought she recognised some of the shop-keepers from Hogsmeade, and... Weren't those three girls over there in her NEWTS class last year? With her curiosity piqued, Hermione took a step forward; the witch stirring the cauldron looked up and pushed her hat back to wipe her brow, her face clearly visible in the green steam rising in front of her.

'Rosmerta?'

Hermione had no idea what was going on, but she was determined to find out. She tore her eyes away from Rosmerta, trying to spot Pomona among all the cloaks and pointed hats. In the shadows on the far side of the clearing, Hermione saw her approaching a slender witch dressed all in white, but she couldn't see the woman's face. Like most of the women present, she was wearing her hair down and...

'Miaow...'

Startled, Hermione glanced at her feet. A small, ginger fur-ball was gazing up at her. 'Hello,' she said, stooping to pick up the kitten. 'And who might you be?'

'His name's Chudley.'

'Oh.' Hermione smiled at the young girl, who had run to claim him. 'He's lovely. I used to have a cat just like him. Is he part Kneazle?'

Lifting her pet out of Hermione's arms, the girl nodded sagely. 'He's very clever. Did yours run away?'

'No.' Hermione sighed. 'He didn't get on with my little girl, I'm afraid, so I had to send him away to live with friends not long after she was born.'

'That's sad.' The girl hugged Chudley tight. 'Was he a present for your Naming, too?'

'My...?'

'Sorry, Mum's calling me,' she interrupted, pointing towards the group near Rosmerta. 'I have to go home, now.'

Hermione nodded. 'Okay. It was nice meeting you, er...' Hermione hadn't quite caught the name.

'I am Holly, daughter of Fiona,' the girl declared, looking rather proud of herself. 'Goodbye.' With a quick wave, Holly turned and scampered off to join her mother.

Though more than a little puzzled by Holly's response, Hermione had no time to dwell on it as Pomona was making her way towards her accompanied by several women she knew only too well. She stared, not knowing what to think, as they approached, the witch in the white robe holding out her arms in greeting as they drew near.

'Oh, my dear. You've found us.'

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