6: Vengeance is Ours, Saith the Professors

Disclaimer: Please, don't sue me; I'm probably going to be punished for all eternity on account of my misappropriation of Bible quotes. Isn't that enough for you?

See the Prologue for food and drink warnings! Oh, and Ginny says a very naughty word in this chapter. Don't tell Molly.

---

Chapter 6: Vengeance is Ours, Saith the Professors

Charlie Weasley decided that covert operations were not necessarily the high drama they were reputed to be. They certainly weren't thrilling in the absence of a dragon of some description. After what amounted to two and a half hours of socializing, the professors were now grouped in the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic, checking the map for the most discreet route to the Education department and grumbling about the lack of blame so far encountered.

Kent's cousin Archibald had been cheerful, gracious, and chatty as an expiring Jobberknoll. He had revealed with almost no prompting the names of every parent who had complained, the substance of their complaints, and even presented an example of the letter apparently owled from the school. He also revealed that all the Governors had done in the matter was to approve a mitigation plan brought to them by a Ministry representative, thus making it rather pointless to go after any members of the board. After all, as Archie cheerfully stated (at least five times by Kent's count), "All we had to do was stamp it 'approved' and ship it over! If it was good enough for the Ministry, and so on, you know!"

This illustrated the problem with dear Cousin Archie...trying to get him to stop talking. Aurora, shifting boredly under the invisibility cloak behind Kent's chair, had nothing to do but hold up the extendable ear Charlie was using to listen to the conversation and relay it to Minerva. Deciding this could take all night and they could always retrieve Foote and Sinistra later if necessary, she sent Sprout and Flitwick after the two families who appeared to be most upset by their children's indiscretions.

By the time Kent located the equivalent of an 'off' switch for his loquacious cousin, Pomona and Filius had come back from their respective missions. Miss Bones' and Mr. Boot's families had been slightly mollified but very puzzled at a personal visit from their respective child's Head of House regarding an incident they thought well done with. After all, no harm had been done, and that nice gentleman from the Ministry had assured them it was being sorted thoroughly. They could direct any correspondence on the issue through his office, though strangely, they now could not locate his business card no matter how they tried, nor recall his name.

That was how Charlie, who refused to be left waiting again, came to be quietly entering the Department of Education and Certification with Minerva, Rolanda, and Septima, determined to find something in the files that would give them the name of this mystery official. Severus guarded the door while Aurora and Kent grudgingly baby-sat Filius, who was still a bit tipsy, and Clara, who had managed to sneak a book along.

Of course, things picked up when a voice from a corner of the apparently empty office said, unconvincingly, "Can I help you?"

The professors whirled, wands drawn...to find they were confronting the ghost of a middle-aged witch with a sour look on her silver face.

"If you're going to threaten a dead civil servant, you'll have to find something more frightening than offensive magic. I'm already in the equivalent of Hell," she grumbled. "I don't suppose you're willing to offer a bribe of some sort for what you want?" she asked more hopefully.

"If you want money, ask someone other than a teacher," Minerva retorted.

"I was thinking more of vengeance," the ghost said wistfully. "Bloody head of the department, or as I like to call him 'The Bastard,' could use taking down a notch. Thinks a witch hasn't got anything better to do on a Friday night than catch up with paperwork. Just because I don't have a body anymore..."

"What a coincidence," Charlie said brightly. "We're trying to find out who in this department diddled our schedules and made us teach some ghastly course on 'Reproductive Health,' so we can give him a nice, sharp talking-to...at least."

Minerva gave him a quelling glance. Charlie only shrugged. "The direct approach has been the best so far tonight," he whispered.

It turned out the direct approach paid off again. The hapless haunt floated into a filing cabinet and returned with the pertinent documents. "Here's the paperwork and the original order."

The ghostly clerk looked at the authorizations and sighed. "Well, 'The Bastard' signed off on it, but it wasn't his initiative. I doubt he even read it," she remarked ruefully. "The bloke wrote this up is actually a quiet one. Never gave me any trouble, leastways."

Minerva fumbled with her reading glasses, eager to see the name of their oppressor. Septima, reading over her shoulder, saw it first and went pale as a ghost, then a shade of red even Godric Gryffindor would have found too much.

"Where are the Commuter Portkeys?" she asked the clerk in a voice so commanding no one recognized her as the shy, gentle Vector they'd come to know. At the ghost's answer, she stormed out of the office, nearly slamming the door open against Severus on her way.

"Septima!" he hissed indignantly, only to be forced to dodge Charlie, Rolanda, and Minerva as they exited in hot pursuit.

Before he could follow, he found himself confronted with a ghostly head poking through the door and yelling, "Don't forget about sorting 'The Bastard' for me when you're finished!"

Stealth was obviously well and truly in the bin. Severus rolled his eyes and whistled for the rest of the crew.

Professor Vector, who had evidently hijacked the mission, scarcely waited for them to catch up. She grabbed one of the non-descript rings from the wall that acted as chargeable Portkeys, and yelled out an address. The professors found themselves on the front walk of a tidy little cottage behind thick hedges, obviously a dwelling hidden from its neighbors by magic judging from the almost palpable charms designed to deflect notice.

"Septima, what in hell is going on here?" Minerva demanded.

"That's what I'm going to find out," Septima said grimly, running up to the door and punching both the bell and the knocker ferociously. In a few moments, a sleepy 'Lumos' and sounds of scrabbling at the inside of the front door could be heard.

"Freddy, how COULD you?" Septima screeched at the tall, reedy wizard who blinked sleepily in the doorway. His hands, too long and floppy for even his stretched-out frame, fumbled for a pair of glasses to better see who confronted him.

"She knows him!" Charlie exclaimed incredulously.

"Brilliant deduction," Severus muttered, "considering the alternative is that Septima is prone to walking up to strange wizards and calling them 'Freddy.'"

"Tima, my sweet, what exactly are you doing here at half past midnight in the middle of the academic year?" he asked, more confused than alarmed.

"Don't play dumb with me, Aethelfred Euclid Barnaby Chance! I know your equations when I see them. Just what did you think you were doing, forcing all of us to teach that vile stuff?"

"I was trying to save our marriage!" he exclaimed plaintively. It was no use pretending not to know what she was talking about, and since the people ranged along his walk were plainly his wife's disgruntled coworkers, he'd need to do some very good explaining very soon.

It was a good thing for Pomona that Severus' and Rolanda's reflexes were decent, even when numbed by shock. Otherwise she would have fallen face flat on the walk when she passed out.

Filius spoke first. "Septima, my dear... Is there, perhaps, something you'd care to share with us?" His voice was reduced to its most quavering squeak.

Her voice shaking, Vector pointed to the man in the doorway. "This is...or maybe WAS...my husband." He made a pained noise, and she shrugged off his attempt to take her arm. "Perhaps we should go inside for this. There's no need to wake up the neighborhood with something that should be private."

"Um, my dearest floating variable, do we really need to have all your colleagues in on this discussion?"

"Don't you try to butter me up with pet names! We most certainly do need to have them present. After all, your little joke made their lives as miserable as mine for the past week, if not more so!"

He dejectedly followed her pointing finger back into the house. After exchanging baffled glances, the rest of the teachers followed. Sprout held on to her rescuers for a few steps more; at her age, 'Rennervate' got you back on your feet, but it also tended to leave the knees a little weak from adrenaline.

Septima had no sooner seated herself on the first available chair than Aethelfred was on his knees in front of her. "Please, try to understand, my sweet...I never meant to upset anybody, much less you! But you ran off the day after our wedding night, and all I've seen of you since are your letters."

"I've been at the school..." she started, sounding more evasive than indignant.

"Yes, but why won't you take Floo calls? And why haven't you, in the stack of parchment the height of this chair, ever addressed what upset you so much? I've asked and asked, and you ignore that part of my every letter. Now, I find out you haven't even told your friends that we're married."

"I... nobody knew we were getting married. There was the war, and we couldn't have a proper wedding, so I hadn't invited anyone. Then, that night...it just wasn't what I expected. I love you so much, but I was so confused and so afraid I'd hurt your feelings that I just ignored the issue then left as soon as I could. I didn't tell anyone afterwards because I was embarrassed...at being embarrassed." She hung her head. "I know I should have addressed it when I answered your letters. I know I should have asked someone for advice or help. But it was easier not to talk about it."

Freddy worked his lips anxiously before responding. "After a while, I figured it must be something like that, since you kept saying you loved me and never gave me any indication you wanted to leave. I started researching everything I could find out about marriage and intimacy problems. Muggles write a great deal more than wizards about such things, I may tell you! After reading as much as I could find on the subject, I was able to guess at some of the things I could have done better, but it didn't help as long as you wouldn't discuss it. So I turned to Arithmancy, the only thing I do well. My calculations showed that the best way to communicate with you would be to play up your greatest strength: the ability to learn and to teach."

He took a deep breath and continued. "I came up with a set of lessons that would address any question or worry you might have about sex. I used the bits of gossip in your letters to construct stories that would alarm parents. I intercepted the letters so that it would look as if the school was being evasive. I maneuvered to be the Ministry representative sent to the Board of Governors meeting, and I tricked them into thinking the course would be taught from the most pathetic reproductive health program I could find in any Muggle school...knowing that the more inane it appeared to be, the more quickly they would adopt it."

"He evidently speaks bureaucrat as a second language," Quill whispered to McGonagall, who nodded vigorously.

'Then, I had the real lessons hand-delivered to Headmaster Dumbledore, along with a spell that would ensure everybody...teachers and students...would get what they needed from the class. Every set of students would be with the ideal professor to ensure they learned all they were able to, so that none of them would have to have problems like we did. I wanted to make sure that the professors...especially you, my dear...would be in the position of teaching the students who would optimize their best qualities." He hung his head. "Instead, all I did was traumatize innocent bystanders and do the one thing I feared most: push you away for good, my love."

For agonizing moments, Septima stared at her husband. Then, she flew out of the chair and kissed him with all her might.

The assembled professors spent quite some time trying to find other places to put their eyes and clearing their throats pointedly before she finally let him up for air.

"You wonderful, brilliant, adorable Arithmantic genius, you! That was the most perfect, exquisite, amazing set of calculations I've ever seen...why, when you publish them, they'll be the masterpiece of your career! And you did them for me!"

"You mean, you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked hopefully. Actually, he gasped it; Septima definitely didn't have the knack of kissing without half-smothering the life out of her target. But compared to previous conditions, he wasn't about to complain. "Would...would you actually like to talk about what went wrong... our wedding night?"

"No, Freddy, I'm not angry anymore... and yes, I think I could try. I've got the vocabulary pat now, but I think there's going to be a bit of a learning curve. I may need to pause and try again later."

"Of course you can, my precious trilateral approxiquation," he said mistily.

Minerva reasserted her role as expedition commander, and decided to call for a strategic withdrawal. "Well, we'll leave you two to talk it over; we've an appointment in Hogsmeade, if you'll recall, ladies and gentlemen," she pointedly addressed Severus, who looked the most mutinous of the lot.

Aethelfred stumbled to his feet, dusting awkwardly at his knees. Septima stayed close to him. "I'm really terribly sorry for all the trouble I caused you. Please, if there's anything I can do..."

"Will you promise to alter the Ministry order so I can make a more reasonable schedule and appropriate adjustments to the course of study, for next time?" Minerva asked in her best Deputy Headmistress voice.

"First thing Monday morning," he promised earnestly.

"Do you have the original Muggle artifacts you showed the Governors?" Kent piped up excitedly.

"Right here," he said, fumbling with some Arithmantic instruments on a catch-all table until he found the pamphlets and folded drawings.

"For now, we'll leave it at that. I will discuss it with Headmaster Dumbledore to determine if any other restitution is needed. Oh, and, Septima? You have leave from your duties until Sunday night."

Professor Vector smiled from under her messy bangs. "Thank you, Minerva," she said softly. Her arm was still wrapped tightly around her husband's waist.

---

Minerva herded the troops outside and made everyone Apparate to the entrance of the Three Broomsticks. Then, she obliged them to settle down at a discreet corner table before they began to deconstruct the mission in earnest...that is, to gossip and complain. Just to be on the safe side, she also bought the first round.

Sprout sighed and blew Rosmerta a quick kiss as she took her usual libation. "Okay, I was irked to start with..."

"You were out cold, to start with," Aurora huffed.

"...but I think my closet romantic has melted. Ah, the splendors of Super-Brain love..." she trailed off, clasping her hands over her heart.

"She sure had me fooled. If you'd bet me that she'd been so much as kissed before, I'd have lost my shirt," Hooch remarked.

"Well, a quick change and you wouldn't have to worry about breaking any indecency laws," Filius said with a chuckle, admiring the brightly colored and umbrella-bedecked drink Rosmerta knew was one of his favorites. No more Firewhisky tonight.

"I still think we need to make someone pay for this," Severus grumbled into his firewhisky. How did Filius drink those syrupy atrocities? "But obviously, I've been outvoted."

"If it makes you feel better to see someone suffer, hide all the Hangover Relief potion before tomorrow morning," Clara whispered, reading by the light of her merrily burning rum concoction.

"Let's see your souvenirs, Kent. What did Septima's impossibly obtuse love use to put one over on the Ministry and the Governors?" Minerva asked with great interest.

Kent, who had been studying the booklets and sniggering, passed them around. "You're not going to believe this," he said with a chuckle. "If they ever found out what we really taught the children, I do believe they'd shut the school down like a shot."

"THIS is what some Muggle schools use to teach about sex?" Sprout gasped, reading over McGonagall's shoulder.

Minerva started giggling. "They might as well not bother!"

Aurora snatched one of the little books, turning to the diagrams. "Good gods, is this supposed to be the uterus? It looks like a Plimpy juggling!" she chortled.

"Do the ones who get these classes ever manage to reproduce?" Filius asked, shaking his head over hopelessly vague allusions to 'fertilization.'

"Maybe by accident," Severus remarked derisively

"Apt choice of words...there's nothing in here on preventing them!" Rolanda sang out, downing her first shot with a flourish and enthusiastically accepting Clara's offer to host the second round.

"Och! Well, we always managed somehow without having classes in it," Minerva said breezily. With a Firewhisky and a Gillywater warming her, she was feeling rather lighthearted about the situation. One more round and she'd be well on her way to lightheaded.

"Yes, it's not that difficult to figure out the basics of what goes where. It's doing it well that takes a bit more finesse," Filius remarked, displaying some happily tipsy finesse by charming the paper umbrella to dance with the cherry from his drink.

"Some do better than others, no doubt," Aurora snickered. Charlie hid his burning face in his pint, vividly recalling being rousted out of the Astronomy Tower during a particularly vocal rendezvous in his sixth year. Fortunately for him and his hunky Hufflepuff squeeze, Professor Sinistra had been as discreet as she had been amused.

"Better at having sex?" Clara asked in amusement. "Or better at having accidents?"

"Slow down, Filius, we've got all night," Pomona said, noting his eyes eagerly scanning for Rosmerta and his share of round three.

"Is that what Professor Devereaux tells you?" Rolanda teased, causing him flush brilliantly.

"That's who you're seeing?" Pomona gasped in astonishment. "The tall blonde from Beauxbatons?"

Filius grinned broadly.

"Not the one that..." Kent described an hourglass shape in the air with his glass, unmindful of the sloshing whisky.

"That's the one." Severus sighed. "Jammy bastard."

"Filius, you devil." Aurora giggled. "How did that come about?"

"She was impressed by my Charms," he answered solemnly, earning a well-deserved volley of peanuts being tossed at him from all sides.

"It's a wonder we ever go out with you men, with lines like that in your repertoires," Minerva said bemusedly.

"Hmm. I seem to recall hearing about a student who agreed to go into the broomshed with a certain Quidditch team captain, all on the strength of a clumsily worded ode to the properties of his broom," Filius said, winking at Minerva over the rim of his fresh drink.

"Not the broomshed, Minerva," Rolanda chided. "That's so...cliché!"

"Everyone's got to start somewhere," she retorted weakly. "Since you're so clever, my dear, what was losing your virginity like?"

"Which time?" Rolanda, sometimes Roland, asked cheekily.

"Ah, I think that's enough for me, tonight," Severus said, pushing back from the table hastily. "I have a detention to oversee in the morning, and I have no intention of showing up the worse for wear," he added more smoothly, slipping Minerva his contribution towards round five by way of excusing himself.

"Well, that's a fine coincidence; I've bought my round, alcohol is no beauty treatment at my age, and I think it's high time I found some young gentleman to escort me home," Quill said, rather than attempt to cajole him into remaining.

With the fourth round well underway for the rest, similar restraint was hard to come by. Not a few cries of 'spoilsport' followed them out, and Rolanda even catcalled and wolf-whistled after the retreating pair.

"You know, it's customary for a gent to offer a lady his arm in this situation," Clara chided gently once they were in the street. Severus hastened to do so, amazed at the birdlike lightness of her arm on his. He knew Clara was one of the older members of the staff, but now he began to wonder just how old. Her face was only lightly yet thoroughly lined, and the wide streaks of silver in her hair looked artistic rather than geriatric

"You're dying to ask, aren't you? 'Oh, Severus, why must you be so uptight all the time?'" he said in a fair mockery of Minerva.

"You mean, do I need to know why you'd prefer not to make your personal business public, with all patrons of The Three Broomsticks looking on? Not especially," she said mildly.

Something had been bothering Snape, and he hesitantly broached the subject to Quill. "Albus knew about this expedition, and Minerva didn't tell him."

"True."

"I also know he's not omniscient, despite his reputation. He places a great value on intelligence gathering. He always has."

"Absolutely. Not to mention he tends to look after his sources. Provided they last long enough." She looked at her companion, practically able to see the gears turning in his head, though his expression retained its practiced calm. She smiled in approval. "Go ahead, ask. I'd feel terribly guilty if you were to burst."

"What does the initial 'S' stand for in your name?"

"Sadalmelika."

"That's... unusual."

"Yes. It's an odd name for a wizard, but to feminize it is unheard of. And yet, you've heard it before, haven't you?"

Severus simply walked beside her in silent awe for several minutes. Sadalmelika was infamous to anyone familiar with the war against Grindelwald...the unexpurgated version, that is. Her exploits were either toned down or passed over completely in the accounts available to students. "Amazing. All that wandering about with your nose in a book is just an act."

"Hardly. I love my field. It's the bumping into statues and apologizing that's an act."

"You know, some historians still debate which side you were on, and everyone thinks you're dead. Even Binns."

"Well, I should think my presence here resolves the debate...though that's quite the compliment, considering my former job."

"Former?"

"Touché. Once a spy for Dumbledore, always a spy for Dumbledore...at least, until you die. Or he does. You're lucky...you'll outlive him and finally be free."

"You're not that old."

"I have grandchildren older than you are, my dear, and a few almost-grown great-grandchildren. I'm just well preserved. I still dance, you know...though not for an audience anymore!" Snape went distinctly red in the face. "Oh, you needn't blush. It's pretty well established that Mata Hari was a babe in the woods compared to me in my prime."

"You have children...?"

"You needn't search for a way to ask delicately! I got married while I was still in school. Snagged my Ancient Runes professor," she said mischievously. "A good bit older than I was, Altais... but he gave me two good sons before passing on. Both Ravenclaws," she added proudly.

"They were grown by the time the war began. So when Albus recruited me, I thought it best to dispense with my former life altogether... except for my given name, which was was exotic enough to be suitable for the stage. Afterwards, I simply took on a pseudonym. Couldn't resist keeping the initial, though, as sort of a souvenir.

"Everything I did...it was ultimately to protect them, you know." She shook off her pensive mood and came back with another glib remark. "Luckily for Albus, Grindelwald's tastes were considerably more sensual than Voldemort's. Otherwise I'd have been no use as a spy."

Snape favored her with an incredulous look. "Your ability to speak and write ten languages, as well as break every code ever devised by Grindelwald's alliance, didn't count for anything?"

She laughed again. "Bless you, honey, you're the only one I've ever known to be interested in that part of my career. Even 'serious' historians devote reams to speculating on how much 'accommodating' I had to do with old Grindey and his lot to get the goods."

She allowed Severus to digest that a moment, then let drop the other shoe. "It never occurs to them to wonder what I was up to with Albus."

"Please tell me you're kidding," Snape begged.

"You know, he wasn't always a gnarled old codger," Clara said slyly.

"I really don't need to know this."

"I wasn't offering details," she retorted.

Severus sighed. "Why does it always come back to sex?"

"Well, most people more or less enjoy sex...even Septima probably will, now that she realizes the first go can be improved upon. I've even heard rumors that Minerva is partial to it, though if you suggest that to her once she's sober, I can pretty well guarantee she'll turn you into a coat rack."

"That I can believe. She must have been sloshed to her eyebrows just now to start asking people about...losing their virginity."

Quill gave him a searching, sideways look. She never bothered with Legilimency; that can be defended against, as Severus had so often and admirably demonstrated. Her specialty had always been reading the tiny quirks of posture, the infinitesimal involuntary twitches and changes of vocal register that not even the most accomplished dissembler can disguise. Find the pattern, make sense of it...it was one of the things that made her a brilliant translator and code breaker. What she saw surprised her only a little, but saddened her a great deal. She chose her next words very carefully.

"I've heard some of those stories before, and they're by and large, rather pitiful. It's not worth doing just to have done it. Ask poor Sybil...that garish git Lockhart took advantage of her during his brief but intensely irritating sojourn here. Laid the charm on with a trowel, then kept finding excuses to avoid her, once he'd gotten what he wanted."

"As much as Sybil annoys me, I wouldn't wish Lockhart on anyone," he said grudgingly. "But I think I could stand to be taken advantage of by a beautiful witch. Or even a decent looking one."

"Be careful what you wish for," Clara cautioned. "For heaven's sake, at least insist on a shag from a witch that respects you."

"I can't believe you just said 'shag'."

"Do you prefer 'bump tummies'?"

"That's what I'd like to know," he said ruefully.

"Ah, well, you're still quite young for a wizard. Believe me, there are witches out there that fancy a quick wit and a good-sized nose when it comes to a man. It's hardly a lost cause."

"You do realize you're too much," he remarked as they approached Ravenclaw Tower.

"That's how I can tell I'm getting old. It used to be blokes said they couldn't get enough."

Severus narrowed his eyes at her, but his lips twisted in a hint of a smile. "I happen to know from the quantities Poppy requests that someone besides Albus dips into arthritis potions on a regular basis. Seeing as you can't mix anything more complex than a martini, perhaps you should stay on my good side, such as it is."

"Hmph! Cheeky thing. Seeing as you've gotten no better at telling your 'ankh' from your 'sa' since you took my classes, you'll still need my good will to translate those antique Potions manuscripts you turn up now and again," she said, grinning her face into a web of amused wrinkles. With that, she wished him goodnight and toddled off to her quarters.

---

While the professors were making some amazing discoveries at the humble abode of Frederick and Septima Chance, other remarkable revelations were taking place back at Hogwarts, in a secluded corridor not far from the kitchens.

"Ginny, I..."

"Harry, could..."

"You go first, Gin honey."

"No, that's okay, why don't you go first?"

"Really, I want to hear what you have to say."

"Harry, I'm going to go crazy if you don't talk. Please, spit it out."

"Okay... I take it you covered the same topics as we did. Including the unusual ones?"

"Uh, you mean... alternate forms of sexual behavior?"

"Right. That."

"Yeah... that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Really? Okay."

"I really do love you, Harry"

"And I love you, Ginny. But..."

"Is this some sort of 'not in that way' breakup speech?"

"No! It's just that, these classes have me... thinking, that's all. What else is there to experience? I mean, I thought settling down to a more or less ordinary life after the past seven years would be a relief. Now, I'm not sure I can handle that much normalcy...even if it's normalcy by Wizarding standards. I still want you to be there, though. I don't think I could manage if you weren't."

He wrapped both of her hands tightly in his, and Ginny once again felt the oddly pleasurable sense of his possessiveness wash over her. She sighed, though with only partial relief. They might be on approximately the same page, but she still wasn't sure if they could wring a happy ending out of this. "That sounds familiar, actually. Does experiencing other things include feeling... curious... about different intimate arrangements?"

"That's a good way of putting it."

"You sound more intrigued than anything else."

"Well, if you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, it's not too unusual a fantasy."

"Since we're not dealing with Legilimency here, I think maybe we should come right out and say things."

"Right. Ladies first."

"Bugger."

"Interesting choice of words, Ginny."

It took them a while to stop laughing.

"In my case, not exactly. But really, Harry...I can't help wondering what it would be like to be with a girl. I'm in love with you, though, and I don't want to be with someone behind your back. This would have to be something you approved. Preferably, something in which you're... involved."

"And of course, I would expect you to do the same...approve, that is. And be involved, if you like." Harry added, "Although this is beginning to sound a bit crowded, for all it's intriguing."

"I see what you mean...and maybe there's a better way. You know, Madam Hooch told me some very interesting things today after class...about Veneramorphogy."

"I really don't think I want you to repeat that."

"Good, because I don't want to say it again. But the gist of it is, if the person is predisposed, they can learn to change their sex organs from male to female at will."

Harry thought that sounded like the most brilliant thing he'd heard all week, but decided to proceed calmly. "It could be a solution. How can you tell if you're predisposed?"

"Well, she is, and she knows the detection spell. I convinced her to test me. Unfortunately, I'm not."

For reasons Harry couldn't quite put his finger on, he didn't find the revelation about Hooch the least bit surprising. "Damn. I don't suppose you could tell if I am, or not?"

Five minutes later, Ginny was swearing at the results of Harry's test.

"There's always Polyjuice," Harry offered.

"I suppose we could do that as a last resort. But it would mean stealing hair or whatnot from either strangers...or maybe weirder yet, people we know...and impersonating them without their knowledge. After all, I don't think we'd get too many volunteers if we told them what we were about. What if we found out things about their bodies that were embarrassing to know? And before you suggest it, I have no intention of fucking myself...in any sense!" She sniggered at her own joke.

Harry favored her with an appropriately exaggerated eye roll for that before moving right along. "True. In a way, I'm glad. I really don't think I'd fancy being female, though I'd be willing to do it to please you, my pet."

Ginny sorted through various ideas. "What if we could find one person we both found attractive, someone who is able and willing to make the changes? If he or she agreed, they could be female for me, male for you, and we could, um, share."

Harry looked thoughtful. "It might work. Instead of this being something that could separate us, it would be another thing we have in common. If we could find someone we both found reasonably appealing, and..."

Before he could finish his thought, voices in an angrily whispered discussion began to whisk their echoes down the hallway. The pair slid from the bench they had been occupying, and Ginny pulled Harry behind a tapestry with her, unable to resist the temptation to eavesdrop.

"Pansy, I'm not asking for another chance in the way that you're thinking. Please, hear me out."

"What other way could there be, Draco?"

"You know, it's not unheard of for three to be company, rather than a crowd."

"What?"

"Come on...you've read the Little Green Book."

Pansy still looked blank.

Draco sighed. "You do know the term 'threesome,' my dear? Boy meets girl, girl finds another boy interesting, all three come to a mutual understanding? It's not unheard of for even married couples to occasionally maintain certain friendships formed at school."

She began spluttering indignantly, showing just what she thought of the idea even before she managed to squeak out, "You're a sick bastard!"

Draco found he wasn't particularly disappointed, and damned glad he hadn't had to draw her a picture. It had been looking like a near thing. "And you're a thick cow with very little brain and less imagination!" It was terribly satisfying to finally tell her that.

Pansy responded with a resounding slap to his face, and hurried away, muttering the unimaginative mantra, 'Sick, sick, sick!'

Harry and Ginny had been exchanging significant glances throughout the confrontation. At the final slap, Harry's lips thinned speculatively. He looked pointedly at Ginny. Slowly, he inclined his head toward the corridor (where Draco still stood, muttering and rubbing his offended cheek.) Then, he raised his eyebrows interrogatively.

Ginny pursed her lips, reflecting as she looked into the middle distance. Draco had certainly managed to relate quite civilly to them for an entire term now. Of course, he was still a bit of a stuck-up prat, but he was a damned good looking stuck-up prat. And he'd make a hell of a pretty girl. Her eyes snapped back into focus on Harry, and she slowly nodded.

Draco spun around upon hearing the soft brush of fabric being moved behind him. As Harry and Ginny came into view, he huffed a sigh of resignation.

"I assume you heard that," he said, studying his fingernails boredly.

"Bad luck, Draco," Harry said, with just enough sympathy to sound sincere without suggesting mockery.

"Not gloating?" he asked, taken aback. Once before, in the heat of battle, they had addressed each other by their given names. Since returning to school, it had been back to surnames, though with cool courtesy rather than contempt.

Ginny shrugged. "Why should we? I'm not inclined to break the lovely cease-fire we had last term. Besides, you can do better," she finished, resting her hand lightly on his elbow. Gauging his reaction to her touch.

He looked at Ginny's hand cautiously then glanced at Harry for signs that this was some sort of trick. He was surprised to find his former nemesis smiling warmly, though with a look in his eyes he couldn't quite place. Tension began to build, but it wasn't the sort of tension that made Draco feel inclined to escape.

"Care to talk about it?" Harry invited, placing a hand on the other boy's shoulder and guiding him over to the bench he and Ginny had recently warmed.

"There's not much to say," Draco replied stiffly, but curiosity moved him to take the proffered seat. It was with a pleasantly odd stirring inside that he noticed Harry and Ginny had taken up seats on either side of him, body-heat close. "Pansy started seeing Blaise. You heard what I suggested."

"And displaying her narrow-mindedness, she refused to so much as give it a second thought," Harry concluded, tsking and shaking his head in the general direction in which Pansy had retreated.

Now that was an interesting response, Draco thought. "Not even a first thought, really. But you have to consider the source," he remarked disdainfully.

"Why do you bother with her, then?"

"It was sort of arranged. I never minded until everything that happened at the end of the war. She was already beginning to favor Blaise, and after that, it seemed rather a waste to contemplate spending my life with someone just because she had the right connections." He decided in for a Knut, in for a Galleon, and simply blurted out the rest. "But, for form's sake, I suggested... experimenting. And you saw how that went over." Draco noticed that his audience was moving in closer. My, wasn't that a much more pleasant experience than he would have imagined...had the thought ever crossed his mind that he'd like to be the filling in a 'Gryffindor's Golden Couple' sandwich.

Okay, to be honest, the thought had at least flickered across his mind. But he just assumed it was Slytherin kinkiness asserting itself indiscriminately.

"Would you mind if I performed a spell on you? I promise, it's not uncomfortable, and you won't be harmed in any way." Seeing his hesitation, Ginny added, "I can demonstrate on Harry first, if you'd like to see what happens."

Draco considered this. "No... I trust you... Ginny," he finally managed. All three of them thrilled at his use of her name.

Ginny uttered the incantation and watched as a ball of light formed over Draco's knees, turning a soft, spring green hue.

Harry inhaled sharply, noting how different that was from his result. "Does that mean..."

Ginny ended the spell and broke into a smile. "Draco, did you read about Veneramorphogy in your Reproductive Health text?" Her arm crept around his waist, settling over his opposite hip in a distinctly friendly caress.

"Yes... but they weren't terribly specific about it, except to say that it's a type of metamorphological sexual magic that the predisposed wizard or witch can learn," He decided he liked where this seemed to be going, an idea reinforced as Harry's hand made a slow traverse of his back, coming to rest on the opposite shoulder.

Under the circumstances, Draco felt he would be more comfortable with his left arm around Ginny's shoulders and his right around Harry's waist. Not being one to tolerate much discomfort, he adjusted his position accordingly. Raven and russet heads settled in beside platinum in intimate approval of the change.

Ginny's smile widened. "It's a fascinating bit of magic. Let's just say, if you ever wanted to know how the other half lives..." she trailed off, running a finger down her own neck to toy with the side of her breast, allowing her companions to watch her nipple rise beneath the fabric. She hadn't realized how thrilling it could be, having two pairs of intense, jewel-like eyes riveted to her like she was some exquisite dessert...and there were two forks on the plate. Who needed Quidditch for excitement?

Understanding dawned, and Draco's face stretched into a sly grin. "I have been told I'm rather too pretty to be a boy, but I never realized it could be an asset."

"We know someone who would be willing to teach the particulars of that skill...though the arrangements might not be possible until after we graduate," Harry breathed softly into Draco's ear. This was definitely beginning to look like one hell of a great plan. Beginning to smell like one too, he thought approvingly, letting his nose trace a path down his pale companion's neck, picking up lingering traces of cologne.

"I don't suppose there is anything else we might want to do in the meantime?" Draco purred. Lack of sexual imagination on the part of Gryffindors was such a hurtful stereotype, he reflected.

"I can think of..." Ginny began then found her words cut off by Draco's supple, skillful lips. It occurred to her that Draco-as-himself would be a nice diversion until he learned the skills that would allow her to play with a female version of him. Damn, am I ever glad he decided to be one of the good guys, she thought giddily.

After not nearly enough time in the sweet, rosy alcove of lovely Ginny's mouth, Draco felt a firm hand cup his jaw. "Ginevra, pet, you said we would share," Harry scolded, in a low, sexy, teasing tone of voice.

Chocolate and emerald eyes met in the silent discourse at which they were gradually becoming adept, confirming that this plan was, indeed, to their profound satisfaction. Then chocolate eyes captured silvery ones in their smoldering regard, promising more in the near future before deflecting his palely scintillating gaze.

It was worth exchanging chocolate depths for emerald ones, Draco thought in the dizzying seconds that Harry's eyes drew him like lodestones before he was pressed into a commanding, masculine kiss. The lack of concrete knowledge of how to proceed in what was clearly unfamiliar territory in no way detracted from the confident desire in the mouth that roughly possessed his.

Ginny watched the two men kiss in thrilled fascination, thinking she would have suffocated under the weight of vicarious passion had they ended the clinch any later.

"I think we wasted at least a term, not doing that sooner," Draco sighed once they separated.

"Oh, I don't know... Had either of you tried anything like that before now, I imagine Nurse Pomfrey would have had a hell of a job putting all the pieces back together," Ginny joked, and the laugh the three shared seemed to seal the deal.

Harry wanted to clarify one more thing before they made this official. "How discreet does this need to be for your sake? Ginny and I have each other if the rest of our House decides to act up." Ginny may be his love and his priority, but Harry decided he wasn't going to leave their Slytherin pet hanging out to dry, either...in fact, sharing him with Ginny made it essential.

Draco tossed his hair saucily. "Crabbe and Goyle are completely loyal to me, and would sort anyone who might decide to give me trouble on account of our arrangement. But it shouldn't be a problem. Becoming a plaything for just a couple of random Gryffindors would be a bit of a step-down. Becoming a plaything for the Gryffindor couple could be counted as rather a coup."

Ginny decided it would be her turn to squeeze in the middle at some point, though for now she was content to let Draco link the three of them together as they rose from the bench. "Do you think we can wipe that smug look off his face, Harry, my love?" she asked.

"Absolutely. I'm thinking surrender and utter abandon would look good there," he speculated, firmly grasping the platinum tresses at the back of their new toy's neck so as to position his face for inspection.

Arm in arm, the three sought out a place to get better acquainted, mentally reviewing the appropriate prophylactic charms and thinking whoever had decided to teach classes on sex was bloody damned brilliant.

---

Author's Notes:

Sadalmelik is a star in the constellation Aquarius.

ankh: hieroglyph meaning 'life.' It resembles an elongated 'o' sitting atop a capital letter 't'. Sometimes referred to as the 'Anstate Cross.'

sa: hieroglyph meaning 'protection.' It looks a bit like ankh but has two legs instead of one, and no crossbar. Detailed renderings of it show what looks like a bit of rope coiled around the narrowest bit, and two slight protrusions from the sides of the rounded portion.

And Albus thought the fit had hit the shand at the beginning of this mess...

You know, Clara has been a right pest. She wouldn't let me go until she had a proper backstory, and this seemed the place to put it. I swear, OFCs can be more trouble than they're worth sometimes!