Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

A/N: Thanks to LariLee for agreeing to beta this monster of a one-shot; any mistakes contained herein are mine alone.

The entire Potterverse, in all its heartbreak and glory, belongs to the inimitable JKR.

Chapter 3

Hermione grabbed her planner and headed downstairs for breakfast. Before she entered the dining room, the planner was open and she was scanning her schedule for the day – tonight was her first dinner party as a new bride and she wanted everything to be perfect.

Severus looked up from his eggs as Hermione passed him, her nose buried in that damn planner. He reached out and unceremoniously caught her about the waist, pulling her willy-nilly into his lap, where she sprawled in a highly unladylike pose. He plucked the planner from her hand and tossed it onto the table, where it slid across the surface and stopped between the teapot and the plate of toast.

"Severus!" she protested, struggling to sit up straight.

"Hermione!" he mocked wickedly before burying his nose in her throat, breathing in the marvelous scent of his wife fresh from her bath. It was a mixture of strawberries and musk and it made him a little crazy. Taste followed scent, as he applied his teeth to her skin, growling his approval.

Feeling that surrender can be the better part of valour, Hermione subsided and lay against his shoulder, stroking his hair. When she ceased her objections, his aggression lessened; they had not yet been married for two months, but she was beginning to learn how to manage her difficult husband in such a way that he hardly noticed he was being managed. With a final, though extremely thorough kiss, she was able to regain her feet and successfully reach her own chair at the breakfast table.

Severus surveyed her with lustful eyes. "Let's go back to bed," he suggested. "Sod party preparations; Quirk can handle things."

Quirk appeared at the table with a warm basket of muffins for Hermione. She accepted them with kind thanks, shooting Severus a quelling look over the house-elf's head. It was really a bit embarrassing to be propositioned by one's husband over the teacups in the presence of an elf.

Quirk, unsure of the reason behind the tension, spoke up. "Quirk will be proud to serve Mistress in any way Master wishes." This proclamation was accompanied by a deep bow.

"Thank you, Quirk," Hermione told him. "I'll discuss it with you later, okay?"

Quirk darted a quick look from the corner of his big green eyes at Severus, who gave him a sour look and jerked his head towards the kitchen. Quirk beat a hasty retreat back to his sanctuary.

Severus applied himself again to the sausages and eggs on his plate. "What is your schedule today?" he muttered sulkily.

Hermione decided to ignore his tone and simply answer his question. "Well," she said, pouring a cup of tea for herself, "I want to get the table set, and the flowers arranged, and make a schedule of when Quirk is to serve each course of the dinner. This afternoon I'll be bathing and fixing my hair and dressing before I meet with Penny and go to inspect the laboratory at Hogwarts. Then she and I will be back here in time to greet Remus and 'Dora and to have drinks before we eat."

Finding nothing to either approve or disapprove in this litany of mundane activities, Severus preserved his silence and finished his coffee. When her attention remained riveted on the bloody planner, he asked at last, "And when is my presence required?"

Hermione ran a finger down the list. "I'll definitely need you by six. You haven't brought up the wines from the cellar, and I don't want to try to decide what to serve. If you are home by six, you'll have time to bring the wine up before you dress for dinner."

Severus stood, a menacing figure towering over his wife in his black robes. When she continued to nibble on her muffin and jot notes in the planner with a quill, instead of jumping up to kiss him goodbye and wish him a good day at work, his lips thinned in displeasure.

"Very well, ma'am," he said in coldly formal tones, and he picked up his brief case. "I will endeavour to be at your party on time."

Too late, Hermione realized her error, and she scrambled out of her chair to pay her husband some proper attention. He, however, had Disapparated on the spot.

"Damn!" she said. The last thing she needed today was a pouting Severus. What in the world was the matter with him? Didn't he want the party to go well?

---

Severus marched up the castle drive from the gates, remembering that morning earlier in the week when he had been irritated with Hermione for being so sad about his return to work. Every morning since that first one, she had all but shoved him out the door before he finished his coffee. What in the world was the matter with her? Didn't she care about him?

Albus Dumbledore, returning from a stroll down to visit with Hagrid, saw his Potions master approaching with a look on his face that was all too familiar. Correctly divining the source of Severus' bad temper, he waited for the younger wizard to reach him, then said mildly, "Good morning, Severus. Beautiful day today, isn't it?"

Severus did not so much as slow down, responding to this pleasantry with a withering look of scorn.

Dumbledore tried again, addressing Severus' swiftly retreating back. "Are things all right at home, dear boy?"

This sally brought the angry Snape to a stop, as he whirled on the spot, in an apparently stupendous rage, and snarled, "Mind your own business, if you please, Headmaster."

Dumbledore approached Severus with a placating hand extended, as one might advance upon an angered dog. "Did you quarrel with Hermione?" he asked solicitously.

Severus sneered at the older wizard. "How many years have you been married, Albus?" he asked in a dangerously reasonable tone.

"I've never been married, Severus, you know that," Dumbledore replied.

"Then I suggest you keep your marriage counseling for someone who may value your input," he snapped before turning on his heel and sweeping into the castle.

Minerva McGonagall's greeting to Severus died upon her lips as he stomped past her without acknowledging her presence. Proceeding out onto the grounds, she met Dumbledore as he stood, his head cocked to one side, gazing at the spot lately occupied by Severus Snape.

"Albus, what is the matter with Severus?" McGonagall demanded.

Dumbledore came up to her, offering his arm. "I would not recommend that you ask him just now, Minerva," he answered.

She frowned. "Are they rowing? So soon?"

Dumbledore's lips twitched. "What is the alchemical process that turns ice to fire, my dear?"

McGonagall slipped her hand into the crook of the proffered elbow and paced with him back to the castle entrance. "Don't be ridiculous, Albus. There is no such process."

"It's called marriage, Minerva," he informed her quietly, as they entered Hogwarts.

---

Hermione rushed to answer the front door, admitting her interior designer. Today, he wore an ensemble in his trademark lilac, embroidered all over with spangled gold stars.

"Good morning, Mr. Lockhart," she said politely, as he stepped into the foyer.

"Good morning, dear lady," Gilderoy responded, wisely not attempting to kiss her hand. For some reason, this young witch did not seem to respond well to his gallantries. Perhaps she actually preferred her scowling husband. Gilderoy had not met him yet, but he had seen some photographs from their wedding in various places in the house. The unpleasant-looking fellow seemed vaguely familiar, but Gilderoy could not place him.

Hermione led the way into the sitting room. "Mr. Lockhart, I am giving a dinner party this evening. I would appreciate it very much if you could finish your work in this room today."

Gilderoy looked about the sitting room in its shabby state. "Of course, of course!" He gave her one of his brilliant smiles. "I am quite a dab hand at parties too, you know. Perhaps I could be of some assistance..."

Hermione flashed on Ron's freckled face, blanched white as he fainted at her wedding, with the words, "spangled pink confetti" on his bloodless lips. Having had personal experience of Lockhart's idea of parties – she would never forget the Valentine's Day debacle of her second year at Hogwarts, when dwarves dressed like cupids stalked the halls of the school at Lockhart's instigation – Hermione suppressed an involuntary shudder and risked a friendly pat on his lilac-clad arm.

"I really, really need your help getting the sitting room fit for company," she told him with false earnestness. "I just don't know how I'll manage today without you to make this room smart before my guests arrive!" She ended this barefaced lie with a confiding smile.

Gilderoy swelled with pride at this display of neediness for his services. "Very well," he said, in his smarmiest voice. "You may depend upon me, madam!"

"Excellent!" Hermione praised him. "Before you go this afternoon, I would like to meet with you and look over all you've done in the house. Perhaps you could meet me in the room at the top of the stairs at five?"

His agreement was interrupted by the entrance of Quirk, who behaved as if Hermione were the only person in the room.

"Quirk is bringing Mistress her mail," Quirk told her, handing over a Muggle envelope bearing a sticker pre-printed with her name and direction. It was from her parents, then – and was marked "Urgent."

"Thank you, Quirk." She ripped the envelope open, extracting a piece of her parents' office stationary, emblazoned across the top of the page with The Granger Dental Clinic . Her mother's handwritten note bore the message that was the first indication of her day going pear-shaped.

Dear Hermione,

I am sorry if it is not perfectly convenient for you, but you really must come and fetch your cat without delay. He got into your father's study last night and made such a mess that we may have to replace the carpet. We were happy to keep him so you could go on your honeymoon, but if you don't come for him immediately, your father is going to lock him in the garden shed, and I know you won't like that. Neither, of course, will Crookshanks.

Please give my love to Severus,

Mummy

Hermione jumped up. "Excuse me, Mr. Lockhart; I must run an errand now. Please let Quirk know if you need anything," she added, with a stern glance at the house-elf. Quirk had become quite adept in the last day or so at behaving as if Lockhart were an annoying houseplant.

Lockhart cast a doubtful look at Quirk, who was ignoring him and bowing to Hermione. "As Mistress wishes," the elf said to his feet.

"Right!" Hermione said with false cheeriness, leaving the two combatants to their own devices as she rushed from the room to go make ready for her quick trip to her parents' home.

---

Severus completed the task of restocking the shelves of the classroom ingredient cupboard and carried the remaining crates to the storeroom by hand. His wand lay discarded on top of his robes and his coat; his shirtsleeves were rolled up as he toiled with the manual labour. His rage had dissipated, but his pique remained.

He wasn't a child; he knew that marriage was hard work at the best of times. The Enchantment was a powerful component in his relationship with Hermione, and it had certainly driven them into marrying with more haste, perhaps, than a non-Enchanted couple might have done. But there remained certain marks of attention that one must not forget to bestow upon one's spouse, if for no other reason than common courtesy. How could she tune him out so completely, just because she had a project to occupy her? Was this what it was going to be like, having a brilliant wife who was immersed in her career?

He closed the storeroom door and warded it. As he picked up his cast-off clothing, pocketed his wand, and headed into his rooms, he reflected that he had only a very short period of time left that he might refer to these rooms as "his;" all too soon, even his own quarters would become "theirs."

When he passed through the door, Bast leapt at him. It was not uncommon for her to greet him when he came into the room; it was rather unusual for her to be unseemly about it, however.

Disengaging her claws from his shirt front, he set her upon the ground. "Behave yourself," he said shortly and Flooed the kitchens for a lunch tray. Bast began weaving about his ankles and rubbing her face against the fabric of his trousers. Too preoccupied with his own morose thoughts to give much attention to the cat's behaviour, he went into his bedroom to strip out of his sweaty clothing and step into the shower for a quick wash-up. Bast, with typical cat dislike for water, did not follow him into the shower, but contented herself with sitting on the bathmat and meowing her comments at the top of her Siamese voice.

---

With Crookshanks' carrier in one hand, and a bag with his dishes in the other hand, Hermione walked up the drive to the front door of Enchanté. "This is our new home, Crookshanks," she told him as she entered the house.

She went straight into the kitchen, where Quirk was using levitation to move a stack of china, crystal and silver from the cupboard to the dining room. Hermione stared at the dishes.

"Quirk, where did those things come from?" she asked.

Quirk looked very pleased with himself. "Quirk found the dishes in a cupboard in the cellar. Does Mistress like them?"

"Yes, Quirk, very much." Hermione beamed at him.

Quirk completed his task with the plates and went to peer into the cat carrier as Hermione began to unpack Crookshanks' dishes.

"Who is this, Mistress?" he inquired curiously.

"This is Crookshanks, Quirk. He's my cat. I really wasn't planning to retrieve him from my parents' home until Master and I go back to Hogwarts, but my mum insisted. Would you keep an eye on him for me, please? I have so much to do today!"

"As Mistress wishes," Quirk replied doubtfully, looking at the faintly malevolent yellow cat-eyes staring at him from the squashed-in face of the half-Kneazle in the carrier.

"Excellent!" Hermione said, bustling into the dining room and leaving her affronted familiar in the care of yet another stranger.

---

Gilderoy finished the plate of sandwiches supplied for his lunch by the sullen house-elf and daintily wiped his mouth. The Snapes' sitting room was coming along very nicely. The walls had been repainted a flat cream barely tinted with cinnamon. The sofa was upholstered in a warm cinnamon, while the settee had been redone in a persimmon silk damask with throw pillows in various shades of straw. The armchairs were now of a soft leather the colour of nutmeg. The Axminster rug on the floor had been magically restored to its original hues. Gilderoy was pleased with his work, though he felt the family photographs the young lady of the house had asked to hang on the walls were somewhat dull. He had a few rather expensive ornaments he planned to recommend to the rich old witch who had paid for this job.

He folded his napkin and placed it neatly on his lunch tray, then went to the mirror over the fireplace to make sure his hair was in place. Once again, his eye fell on the peculiar glass jar with the live beetle moving about in it. He had attempted to move the jar from the mantel more than once, only to be foiled by the blasted house-elf, who persistently returned the jar to its original place, darkly muttering about "Master's Personal Things."

Gilderoy cast a furtive glance about the sitting room. If he could not remove the bug-in-a-glass-jar from the mantel, at least he could make the container more elegant. With a flourish of his wand and a spoken incantation, the unbreakable jar was transfigured into an ornamental crystal flagon with a cut-glass stopper.

He was distracted from his admiration of the jar solution by the sound of humming from a room across the foyer. He wandered in that direction and slipped through the door, to find himself in a formal dining room. The large cherry table was dressed with immaculate white Irish linen, china, old silver and crystal wineglasses.

The witch of the house was standing at the sideboard, humming happily to herself as she arranged flowers in a crystal vase. Gilderoy watched her at this for a period of time, thinking to himself that her taste was quite good and that she had a bit of an eye for the delicate art. When she had finished, she stepped back to view her work with her head tilted slightly to the left.

Gilderoy took a step towards her. "Quite charming, madam," he commented.

Hermione jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. "Mr. Lockhart!" she said, placing one hand over her thumping heart. "I didn't know you were there."

Gilderoy was not attending to her, however; he was viewing the flower arrangement from her left, before he moved to her right and considered it from that standpoint. "May I make a suggestion?" he asked politely.

Hermione opened her mouth to refuse, but Lockhart moved to her side without waiting for an answer. He chose one long-stemmed yellow rose from the detritus scattered upon her work surface and deftly placed the flower, making a minute adjustment of the greenery surrounding it. Then he stepped away again and repeated his inspection from each side.

"There. That's better, don't you think?"

Hermione gaped at the lovely flower arrangement. She couldn't explain why, but the slight change he had made in her work had improved the whole immensely. The strange man actually did have a gift for this type of thing.

"Yes," she said, softly. "Thank you, Mr. Lockhart."

At the note of true admiration in her voice, Gilderoy beamed at her, and bowed from the waist with a flourish. Hermione restrained herself from rolling her eyes; she simply moved the flower arrangement to the middle of her elegantly laid table.

After admiring it for a moment, she glanced at her wristwatch. "Please excuse me, Mr. Lockhart; I have many things still to do! I will meet with you in the room at the top of the stairs before you leave for the day."

Gilderoy stepped to the door and held it open for her. "Excellent, madam."

Hermione gave him a smile of thanks and left the room to head upstairs and begin to bathe and dress for her evening.

---

Severus stood rigidly behind the desk in his office, his lips compressed in a thin white line. Albus Dumbledore sat in the straight chair provided for the unfortunate visitor to the Potions master's domain with his hands folded in his lap and a look of unruffled serenity on his benign countenance.

"I do have work of my own to complete, Headmaster. That is why I am back at work before my honeymoon is properly over," he snarled at the dotty old man.

"I do understand that Severus, and I am sincerely sorry to put you to any additional trouble." Dumbledore reached into his pocket and removed a crumpled paper bag from its depths. As if he had all the time in the world – as if Severus Snape were not standing five feet away from him with clenched fists, barely keeping his desire to throttle the older wizard with his bare hands in check – Dumbledore opened the bag and popped a hard candy into his mouth. "Sherbet lemon?" he inquired, indicating the paper sack.

Dumbledore was saved from the fluent swearing of his Potions master by the entrance of Minerva McGonagall. Severus swallowed the words he was dying to fling at his tormentor and took a hasty turn about the room, casting frequent burning looks of reproach at the Headmaster and his Deputy.

"Albus, the Minister is here. And the Symposium guests are gathered for the final panel discussion in the Great Hall. Do hurry!" McGonagall simply ignored the storming Snape; she had not permitted his tantrums to trouble her when he was her student and she was not about to change that policy now.

Dumbledore stood. "Severus, I am depending upon you. Filius was set to conduct the Charms panel, but he was called out of town this morning due to family illness. If you would prefer to stand in as the moderator on the discussion panel, I would be happy to relinquish the post to you and conduct the Minister about the castle to view the improvements."

At the suggestion that he, Severus Snape, denizen of the dungeons and chief detractor of foolish wand waving, should moderate a discussion panel on Charms, his look of horror was so profound that even McGonagall had a difficult time not smiling. Seeing this capitulation to his wishes, however inadvertent, Dumbledore moved with sudden alacrity.

"Excellent! I shall leave you to it then, Severus. You will find the Minister waiting for you in my office." Without another apparent thought for his put-upon Potions master, Dumbledore escorted McGonagall out of the office.

"Damnation!" Severus relieved his feelings by flinging an empty glass beaker across the room and watching it shatter on the dungeon wall. Collapsing into his chair, he pinched the bridge of his nose, the furrow between his brows deeply pronounced.

After a moment of silent fuming, he stood and walked out of his office. Planning various ways to make Albus pay for this latest insult to his dignity was a satisfactory pastime, but it did not complete the task of escorting Cornelius Bloody Fudge about Hogwarts and listening to his inane prattle about the State of Wizarding Education in Britain.

He entered his quarters with the single-minded goal of changing his robes for some a bit more suited to a meeting with the Minister of Magic. When he entered his bedroom, he was disgusted to find Bast beside the clothes hamper, rolling about with a dirty sock she had dragged from its depths.

"Stop that," he thundered at her, reaching for the misused footwear. Bast, deciding this would be a lovely game, snagged the sock with a claw and pulled it from his fingers. Light slowly dawned as he abandoned the sock and snatched a calendar from the top of his bureau.

Bugger.

In the rush of his hasty wedding and a prolonged honeymoon, he had not dosed Bast with the potion that suppressed her reproductive cycle in over a month. No wonder she was following him about, howling at the top of her voice, and assaulting his clothing – any hint of male pheromone would do for a female cat in season.

"Master Snape?" a timid elfish voice squeaked from the sitting room.

Severus answered. "I am in the bedroom, Corky."

The Hogwarts house-elf stepped into the bedroom and bowed low. "The Minister is waiting for Master Snape in Professor Dumbledore's office, Sir," he explained. "The Minister is asking Corky how much longer Master Snape will be."

"Please advise the Minister that I will be with him directly, Corky," Severus replied shortly. He opened the wardrobe and snatched one of his newer sets of teaching robes from a hanger.

"Yes, Master Snape," Corky said, before leaving the room.

Severus put on the robes and glared down at Bast. "I'll deal with you later," he told her threateningly. Bast meowed at him provocatively, as if he were promising her a rare treat. With a muttered request that Merlin save him from committing murder this day, he stepped into the fireplace and Flooed to the Headmaster's office.

---

Hermione gave her hair one final pat in the bedroom mirror before hurrying down to the kitchen.

"Quirk, do you have the schedule of when to serve the appetizers, and each course of the dinner?" she asked anxiously, looking about the kitchen at the preparations for her dinner party.

"Yes, Mistress," he answered her patiently. "Quirk has everything he needs. All is well."

Crookshanks, still imprisoned in his carrier, spoke up in protest of this egregiously false statement.

Hermione knelt by the carrier. "I'm sorry, Crooks," she said penitently. "Will you be a good boy if I let you out?"

The cat gave her a flat stare from his yellow eyes.

"Of course you will," she answered herself. She reached out and lifted the latch, releasing her familiar. Crookshanks promptly butted the door open with his large head and streaked out of the room without a backward glance.

Hermione jumped up. "Oh no! Crookshanks!" She looked frantically at her wrist watch. "Quirk, I must go – will you please find him and make sure he's okay?"

Quirk was a very well-trained house-elf. No hint of his annoyance showed on his face. "Yes, Mistress. Quirk will look after kitty."

With a grateful smile, Hermione rushed off to meet with her new employer.

---

Penny Clearwater stood at the gates of Hogwarts.

"I hope you didn't have to wait long!" Hermione cried, approaching Penny with a friendly smile.

"I just got here," Penny assured her, tucking one hand in Hermione's arm as they began the walk to the castle. "Is Professor Snape going to do the walk-through with us?"

Hermione made a wry face. "He was kind of in a snit when he left for work this morning, so I don't know..."

Penny looked alarmed. "I remember what he's like in a snit. Is that hard to deal with when you're married to him?"

Hermione giggled at the expression on Penny's face. "Well, so far we've managed to work out our differences without bloodshed."

Penny looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, Hermione, he was appallingly scary when we were at school, but more than one Ravenclaw said within my hearing that they imagined Professor Snape to have a great deal of suppressed ... passion."

The flush in Hermione's cheeks answered the unasked question.

"I see," Healer Clearwater said with a snicker.

Hermione flashed a sideways grin. "Let's just say that there's not much need for suppression anymore."

"Well, I imagine it makes for brilliant shagging," Penny said, "but also for fearsome rows."

Hermione nodded emphatically. "That just about covers it."

They reached the castle doors and headed for the dungeons. "We'll just pop into his office before we go to the laboratory to see if he has time to walk through with us," Hermione said, leading the way.

---

Mindful of his instructions, Gilderoy Lockhart cast a final look of approval about the sitting room before he climbed up the stairs to await Madam Snape in the room at the top of the stairs. He entered the redecorated nursery, glancing carefully at his many improvements to make sure the destructive little house-elf hadn't been sneaking in to undo his work while he wasn't looking. Relieved to note that everything appeared to be in place, he sat down in the rocking chair to await the lady of the house. He might as well put the waiting time to good use – surely no one could object if he answered some fan mail while he waited?

---

Quirk made another lap through the kitchen, chasing after Mistress's kitty. Why was kitty so vexed and upset? Quirk had done nothing to make kitty angry! Oh, Quirk wished he had asked Mistress's permission to use magic to control kitty. If he had to spend all of his time chasing kitty around the house, how would he be able to finish preparing the food for tonight!

---

Finding Severus' office to be empty, Hermione and Penny continued on to his private laboratory without looking for him elsewhere.

"He's undoubtedly busy with something," Hermione said, taking down the wards on the private laboratory. "This is his personal research facility, but he has agreed to share space with me – probably to keep me working from home," she added with a smile.

In this moment, her conscience twinged. He had been so good to her, doing everything just as she wanted it done, from the wedding to the honeymoon. He had been living his life in this castle for as long as she had been alive, and he was changing everything for her. And she had been thoughtless of his feelings! Oh, she was sorry now, and wanted nothing so much as to throw her arms around him and thank him. She vowed to herself that she would do so at the very next opportunity that presented itself to her.

This resolution made, she brought her attention back to the task at hand. "The layout of the work stations is perfect for the type of research we have planned..."

---

Percy Weasley Apparated to the designated point in the Snapes' shrubbery and took a moment to make sure that his robes were hanging properly on him before starting up the walk to the entrance. As he approached the front door, he saw the discreetly placed sign at the edge of the drive, proclaiming the property name as Enchanté. A smirk crossed his face; if his younger brother, Ron, was to be believed, the Snapes had the Enchantment. What a quaint thing, then, to call their home! For a moment, he wondered if Penny had arrived yet. He still thought of her as Penny, even though she made him call her Healer Clearwater at the office. Honestly, the way she carried on, it seemed as if she were never going to forgive him for breaking up with her! He knew better, though; he was every bit as fascinating now as he had been when he was Head Boy at Hogwarts. Penny would not be able to hold out against his charm forever.

With these pleasant thoughts in his mind, he rang the bell at the Snapes' front door.

---

Quirk stopped in his tracks when he heard the front bell chime. A quick look at the clock told him that it was already six o'clock. He was behind schedule, with so much still to be done, and the guests already beginning to arrive! Casting anxiously about in his mind for the tenets of his training that applied to this situation, Quirk came to a decision. He would have to let kitty fend for himself, while Quirk attended to the guests and the food preparation. Surely one kitty could not cause too much trouble?

---

Gilderoy started in his chair. Had he been dozing? There were a few of his autographed photographs scattered across the rug. Perhaps he had drifted off. But what had wakened him? It was some kind of scratching noise...

He stood, his curiosity piqued, and crossed the floor to open the door.

---

Penny stood up from the stool she had settled on when she and Hermione began discussing the research project they had in mind. "We had best get to your house, Hermione – I'm planning to change into my party dress before we sit down to dinner." Penny held up her handbag, indicating that she had brought a change of clothing with her.

Hermione glanced at her wrist watch and jumped up with a small scream. "It's after six! Oh my goodness, Penny, I had no idea!"

Penny chuckled and led the way to the door. "We'd best get cracking then," she said before disappearing into the dungeon corridor.

---

Quirk opened the door to the young man with the flaming red hair and executed a deep bow.

"Welcome to Enchanté," he said, stepping aside and allowing the guest to enter.

"Am I the first to arrive?" the stranger inquired, looking into the sitting room.

"Sir is the first guest to arrive," Quirk agreed.

"Excellent," the man said. "Could you direct me to the gents' then?"

Quirk closed the door and directed the red haired man to the downstairs bathroom.

---

Gilderoy had scarcely gotten the door open before an orange streak flew past his legs into the room.

"Great Scott!" he exclaimed, leaping back instinctively as Crookshanks shot under the white baby cot and stopped, glaring out at him with eerie yellow eyes.

"Shoo!" Gilderoy very unwisely said, advancing on the berserk feline and flapping his hands in an ineffectual manner.

Crookshanks answered with a hiss before flinging himself across the room to the cheerful yellow curtains and beginning to climb them with a curious lack of grace.

The reason for the lack became apparent when the curtains were ripped from the rings supporting them by the weight of the unfortunate Crookshanks.

In his agitation, Gilderoy actually clutched at his faultlessly arranged golden waves. "Noooo!" he shrieked, before freezing the cat in a Full Body Bind and levitating him out the door and down the stairs.

Honestly! This Snape house was not run in a very efficient manner! It was not at all what he was accustomed to, working in the homes of the best wizarding families in Britain! He had a good mind to let that old dragon, Madam Seraphina Snape, know just what he thought of her stupid nephew and his unaccountable bride. Fuming, he went to the bottom of the stairs, then glanced about for a spot where the cat's body could be hidden.

Hearing voices approaching the front door, he ducked into the dining room with the petrified cat and closed the door behind him.

---

Hermione flung the door to the house open and invited Penny inside. "I can't believe I lost track of the time like this!" she exclaimed, closing the door and looking around her. "Penny, my room is at your disposal! Just go upstairs and turn to your right; my room is the first one there. Please make yourself at home! I've got to go find Quirk!"

Penny chuckled to herself as Hermione fled toward the back of the house. Penny glanced into the very nicely decorated sitting room, but she didn't see Percy. Was the berk going to stand her up? It would be that last thing he ever did, she vowed to herself. She might as well go upstairs and make herself beautiful; if Percy did show up, it would much easier to torment him if she were looking particularly pretty.

She mounted the steps; to her left, a door was ajar, with an alluring golden glow coming from within. Forgetting that Hermione had said the bedroom would be to her right, she went to the door and pushed it open.

Oh, for the love of Merlin! It was a nursery! A completely decorated nursery, in warm shades of yellow, just waiting for a wee wizard baby. Penny went further into the room, trailing one hand along the lovely little white cot as she admired the books on the matching shelf. What a sly thing that Hermione was! How far along was she? Professor Snape certainly didn't waste any time, did he?

Feeling a slightly envious tug in the region of her heart, Penny backed out of the room. She must be discreet; Hermione would tell her when she was ready to speak of it. Thoughtfully, Penny went into the bedroom on the other side of the stairwell and set about changing her dress and touching up her hair.

---

Gilderoy cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and peeked out into the foyer to make sure the coast was clear before abandoning the forgotten cat and sneaking back up the stairs. He had promised to meet Madam Snape in the nursery before he went home tonight, but it seemed as if she had forgotten all about him. Hadn't she just said something about going to look for that obnoxious house-elf? Really! He should just go up, fix the curtains, collect his things, and go home.

---

Quirk directed Percy into the sitting room and placed the requested tumbler of brandy in his hand before closing the sitting room door and bowing his way out. Percy sipped the brandy, approving the fine taste, as he strolled about the room, admiring the furnishings. Perhaps if he had a chance to drink a bit of brandy, he would be more relaxed and charming when Penny finally arrived.

On the mantelpiece, beneath the hanging mirror, he noticed what appeared to be a crystal decanter with a bug in it. As he reached out a hand to investigate the container, the beetle trapped within opened its wings and fluttered against its prison walls. Percy frowned. The Snapes had fine brandy, an attractive sitting room, but what in the world were they about, keeping a bug in crystal bottle over the fireplace where most people kept ornamental plates?

Shaking his head over the oddity of his hosts, he returned to the drinks tray and poured more brandy.

---

Severus dragged himself back into his rooms, exhaustion in every line of his body. Here was incontrovertible proof that spending one afternoon in the company of Cornelius Fudge was more harrowing than teaching Potions to first-year Hufflepuffs.

He was pulling the teaching robes off as he entered his bedroom, headed for the loo. The interminable tour of the campus had been followed by the intolerable drinking of cup after cup of tea while the Minister went on and on about any number of inconsequential things. He desperately needed the loo.

As he came out of the bathroom, buttoning his fly, his eye fell upon the clock. Six-twenty. SIX-TWENTY?

He might be a husband who was a bit miffed at his wife's inattention to him, but he was a very married man, for all that. He knew that his life was in jeopardy, late as he was for his bride's summons to their first dinner party. Without a thought but getting home quickly, he grabbed his brief case from the floor and hurtled out the door.

---

Penny completed her toilette and went downstairs in search of her hostess. She found Hermione in the kitchen, feverishly going over her menu with the house-elf. Seating herself at the kitchen table, Penny helped herself to a carrot from the relish tray. Before she could take a bite, the doorbell chimed. Hermione looked at her watch again.

"Quirk, you stay here and work on dinner. I'll get the door." She turned and saw Penny. "Penny! You'll get your dress messy! Come with me to the sitting room; I think we both could use a glass of sherry!"

The two young women left the kitchen and went into the foyer, where Hermione opened the door.

"Remus! 'Dora!" she cried, pulling her friends into the entrance hall. "I'm so glad you're here! Severus is nowhere to be found and the wine still hasn't been brought up from the cellar."

Lupin politely shook hands with Penny and introduced her to Tonks before grinning at Hermione in response to her non-sequitur. "Never fear, Hermione, I'll go to the cellar. Where is Severus?"

Penny and Tonks moved to the sitting room door, chatting comfortably. Hermione looked worriedly at her former professor. "Didn't you see him today?" she asked. Lupin shook his head, and she continued, "I don't know where he is, Remus. We had a bit of a row this morning – do you think he'll stay away?"

Lupin placed a comforting brotherly arm about her shoulders. "I spent the day in London with 'Dora today, so I wasn't at the castle. But, no, Hermione, I don't think he'll stay away. Don't fret. He'll be here."

Lupin gave Hermione a reassuring smile and she took him to the kitchen and showed him the cellar door. With the dinner menu in one hand, he went down to choose wines to serve with their meal. Hermione watched him descending the cellar steps until she felt a tugging at the hem of her robe. She turned to find Quirk peering up at her anxiously.

"Quirk hopes Mistress will not be angry," he said, "but Quirk was not able to keep kitty in the kitchen. Kitty would not let Quirk come near him."

Hermione looked desperately around the kitchen. "Where is he, Quirk?"

Quirk looked upset. "Quirk does not know, Mistress. Quirk had to answer the door, and to see to preparing dinner, and kitty would not be still. Quirk is ever so sorry, Mistress!" he ended on a wailing note.

Hermione patted his shoulder. "It's okay, Quirk. I know that Crookshanks can be difficult sometimes, and he was quite unhappy that I left him with my parents for so long. I'll sure he'll be fine." She moved towards the dining room. "I'll just look around for him a bit."

---

Penny opened the sitting room door and was startled to find Percy Weasley seated before the hearth. Tonks looked at him in surprise. "Percy!" she said. "Did Hermione invite you to dinner?"

Penny closed the sitting room door as Percy bustled up to her, all officious importance. "Good evening, ladies," he said, smiling as he approached them. "Penny, you look lovely!"

Penny stared at him until his eyes dropped uncomfortably and his hand came up to tug on the collar of his robes. "Erm, Healer Clearwater, I meant to say. And how nice to see you again, Tonks!"

Penny's lips twitched as Tonks stared Percy until he looked away. In self-defence, Percy went to the drinks tray and poured himself another tumbler of Severus' best brandy, then swallowed a large mouthful. It appeared that he would require a copious measure of liquid courage to make it through this dinner party.

Behaving as if he were not present, the two young women continued their private conversation, while Percy found a chair to inhabit.

"She was throwing up?" Penny asked.

"Yes, and she said she had been throwing up all morning," Tonks added after a moment's thought.

Penny leaned toward Tonks confidentially, lowering her voice so that not even Percy could hear her. "I was just upstairs freshening up – there is a completely furnished nursery up there – every single item is brand new..."

---

Severus Apparated directly into the foyer of his home and looked about him, desperately. There was no one in sight; perhaps he was not in too much trouble. He raced up the stairs, two at a time, and rushed into this bedroom, dropping his briefcase on the floor and unbuttoning his clothes as he headed for the bathroom.

The muffled "mrrow" that he heard when he dropped the brief case on the bedroom floor froze him in his tracks. He turned horrified eyes to the bag which had toppled to one side, and from which an affronted Bast emerged with a look of reproach.

"What are you DOING in that bag?" he demanded, advancing on his familiar angrily.

Bast heard that tone of voice and did not linger to find out what was upsetting him. Her sense of smell informing her that she was now in entirely new territory, she set off like the proverbial bat out of hell, dashing from the room and down the stairs, looking for a hiding place.

Severus watched her go with a rising sense of frustration. Should he chase the uncatchable cat, or should he bathe and dress for the party he was hosting? What kind of trouble could Bast find, locked up in a perfectly safe house? He would see Quirk as soon as possible and ask him to watch out for her. For now, he had best make himself presentable.

---

Lupin emerged from the cellar with only a few cobwebs caught in his sandy hair, triumphantly bearing a basket filled with wine bottles. Hermione, fresh from having made a circuit of the dining room and Quirk's room without seeing Crookshanks, greeted him like a conquering hero and cast a spell to remove the cobwebs from his hair, while Quirk took the wine bottles and began to clean them.

"Let's go see what the others are doing," Hermione suggested, grabbing the appetizer tray from the table and leading Lupin towards the sitting room. "I'm sure you could use a drink, Remus."

He agreed with her, opening the door to let her pass into the room with the tray of snacks, before following her in and going to pour himself a tumbler of brandy.

---

Bast entered the kitchen at a run and froze at the sight of the house-elf, who was labouring to spread icing on a cake. Quirk looked at the small black cat in alarm – what had happened to Mistress's big fluffy orange kitty? This kitty was small and smooth and black!

Quirk looked at the clock, then at kitty, then at the cake, then at the schedule Mistress had provided for him. He had to keep working on the dinner. Mistress said she would look out for the kitty. Hopefully, it would not be Quirk's fault if the big orange fluffy kitty became a small black smooth kitty. With a great deal of courage, Quirk turned his back on the cat and continued with his task.

---

Crookshanks felt the sensation returning to his legs. From underneath the sideboard in the dining room, where the crazy man with the wand had shoved him with a foot after dropping him on the floor, he could see a crack of light through the door into the kitchen. Hermione had come into the room calling his name, but he could not have answered her, even if he wasn't already upset with her, because of the curse the crazy man had cast on him. He could move now, though, and he could also smell – he sniffed the air one more time before slowly advancing on the door into the kitchen, which Hermione had left ajar. Unless he was dreaming, there was a female in the next room who was just dying to meet him.

---

Gilderoy repaired the damage done to the window treatment by that great hairy brute and stood back to survey the effect. With a tiny flick of his wand, he moved the right hand edge of the curtains up just a tad. There. Perfect.

He bent over and began to gather his scattered photographs, tucking them back into his bag and thinking of how easy it would be to sneak down the stairs and out the front door in his Disillusioned state. He was just about to stand and head for the door when a pair of well-polished black boots entered his line of sight. With a deep sense of foreboding, he let his eyes travel up the black trousers, on up the black coat, until his eyes came to rest on the face of the devil himself.

With a frightened little shudder, Gilderoy discreetly fainted.

---

Hermione watched her guests embark on their third servings of pre-dinner drinks before she took one last despairing look at her watch and rose from her seat with as much aplomb as she could manage.

"Let's move on into the dining room," she said to them, leading the way across the foyer. "I'm sure that Severus will be here any time now."

---

Crookshanks pressed his way through the doorway into the kitchen silently. The female he had scented was perched beneath the kitchen table, watching the movements of the house-elf. By way of announcement, Crookshanks hissed.

Bast jumped straight into the air when the other cat hissed at her; she pirouetted in mid-air and landed facing the great ugly monster, her back arched and her fur standing on end as she returned the challenging hiss.

Quirk froze when he heard the unmistakable sounds of a brewing cat-fight. He turned from the counter and saw the two cats facing off, backs arched and feral growls issuing from each throat. As he readied himself to immobilize them, the small black kitty skittered into the hallway, with the big orange kitty in hot pursuit. At the same moment, Mistress rang her little hand bell, signaling Quirk to serve the soup. Hoping against hope that the kitties would stay out of the dining room, Quirk obediently carried the soup to the table.

---

Severus stood, dumbstruck, inside the doorway of the unused room at the top of the stairs. He had entered this room only because of the strange noises coming from behind the closed door. Before his uncomprehending eyes, he saw the evidence of his wife's perfidy. No wonder she had been acting so oddly. How could she not TELL him? His eyes passed over the baby cot, the rocking chair, the bookshelves stocked with children's literature, the nursery-themed wall paper, and for a moment he sagged against the doorframe. A baby? Their baby? Primordial joy surged through him, followed by fierce consternation. Pulling himself straight again, he turned on his heel, his only thought to reach his wife.

"Hermione!" he bellowed and tore down the stairs.

---

Bast flew through the sitting room door as only a berserk cat can move. She jumped onto the sofa, moved quickly to a chair, bounced off the chair onto the back of the settee, sending cushions flying as she nearly lost her footing, then leapt like a panther onto the mantelpiece, sending knick knacks flying; an odd crystal flagon skittered to the edge of the mantel and stopped.

Crookshanks was hot on her heels, giving chase for all he was worth, bounding from the sofa to the chair to the settee – where he was balked. Crookshanks knew very well that he could not make the leap onto the mantel; he was just too heavy. Instead, he jumped onto the floor directly beneath the other cat and stared at her with sinister yellow eyes.

From her lofty perch, Bast surveyed her victory with smug satisfaction. After staring defiantly at the ginger coloured ogre at her feet, she noticed movement in the clear bottle. Cocking her elegantly shaped triangular head to one side, she reached out with a coy paw and batted the crystal decanter infinitesimally closer to the edge of the mantel over the stone hearth.

---

When her husband's voice blared through the room, Hermione dropped her spoon with a clatter that splashed soup all over the tablecloth.

"Severus is home!" she said, giving her guests a smile before excusing herself and hurrying out into the foyer, closing the dining room door behind her.

His feet hit the foyer floor at the moment that she threw herself into his arms.

"Severus, Severus, I'm so sorry!" she said, hugging him as tightly as she could.

Severus took hold of her upper arm and held her away from him. "Hermione," he said sternly gesturing toward the top of the stairs with his free hand, "do you have something you wish to tell me?"

She looked up into his forbidding face and quailed a bit, casting about wildly in her mind for the cause of his anger. A premonition came to her.

"Perhaps...perhaps you've noticed a few changes around the house?" she suggested timidly.

"A few changes?" he repeated incredulously. She called being pregnant with his child a change around the house?

"Well, Gilderoy Lockhart did it," she explained helpfully.

His face went a shade paler and his eyes darkened from ebony to pitch. Through clenched teeth, he said, "Gilderoy Bleeding Lockhart did WHAT, exactly?"

At that moment, a strangled sound, quickly muffled, came from the stairway. Whirling, with his wand at the ready, Severus saw a tottering Gilderoy Lockhart weaving down the stairs. With an oath, he grabbed Lockhart by the front of his robes and jerked him down the last several steps, then thrust him brutally into the sitting room before pointing his wand and snarling, "Expelliarmus!"

Lockhart's wand shot into the air and Severus caught it effortlessly, his own wand now pointed at Lockhart's chest.

Lupin came barreling out of the dining room, his wand at the ready, with Tonks right behind him. When they saw the desperate ruffian Severus had pinned to the sitting room floor, Lupin pocketed his wand and took his fiancée by the arm. "I think Severus can handle this, love. Let's finish our soup."

Tonks allowed herself to be led away, though she was still craning her neck for a better look at the culprit before Lupin closed the dining room door.

"What are you doing in my house?" Severus asked quietly, his lips barely moving as he spoke to the wizard sprawled at his feet.

Hermione was feeling really frightened now. She walked up to her husband and placed a hand on his arm. "I only let him do it because of your Great Aunt Seraphina," she said.

Severus slowly turned his head and the full force of his piercing eyes to Hermione. "Do me the courtesy of explaining yourself," he snapped.

"I will, but please let Mr. Lockhart up," she replied with as much dignity as she could muster.

Lowering his wand, Severus glared at Lockhart and jerked his head toward the sofa. Lockhart gratefully scrambled up onto the couch, keeping an anxious eye on the devil with the wand.

Bravely, Hermione sat down on the settee across from Lockhart. "Please have a seat, Severus," she said.

Feeling the situation somehow getting away from him, Severus threw himself into one of the armchairs. With a sudden frown, he stroked his hand appreciatively along the grain of the leather. "This is exquisite," he murmured, distracted.

"Thank you," Gilderoy said, his grievances forgotten in a moment of professional pride.

The corner of Severus' mouth spasmed for a moment as understanding began to dawn upon him. Addressing Hermione, he said, "I take it my great aunt invited Lockhart to redecorate for us?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I thought...I thought you might not like it, so I was going to tell you after it was all completed."

One eyebrow quirked.

"I didn't know how to tell her no – your Great Aunt Seraphina is ..."

"...scary," Lockhart breathed, just as Severus said, "...a force of nature."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. Both of those things."

Severus leaned towards his bride. "You haven't been forgetting to take your potion?"

Hermione turned innocent brown eyes on him. "No. Why?"

Severus closed his eyes and sagged in his chair. "Oh, the fully furnished nursery upstairs just made me wonder," he told her, fighting the laughing fit he felt coming on.

Hermione began to giggle. "Your great aunt insisted – she said we'll need it sooner or later, so we might as well furnish it now."

Severus reached out a hand to her and she came into his lap, their captive audience all but forgotten. Wrapping one hand around the back of her neck, he looked deeply into her eyes. "She's right. We will need it – sooner or later."

He was watching, with deepening interest, the spread of the flush from her throat to her cheeks, when a low, feral growl sounded behind him. He and Hermione turned in time to hear a snarling hiss and to see a blur leap over them, land on Lockhart, push off to the floor, and streak up the stairs in a rush of claws and cat fur.

At the same instant, they heard the sound of a glass smashing on the stone hearth.

"Oh no!" Hermione jumped up, followed by Severus, and both of them had their wands pointed at the precise spot where the shattered crystal flagon bloomed into Rita Skeeter.

"If it isn't the happy couple," Skeeter said snidely, crossing her arms and glaring at the Snapes.

Gilderoy peeked around Severus and saw the platinum haired reporter with her jeweled spectacles and her long red fingernails standing on the hearth. "My word!" he said, deeply impressed. "Why, you were the bug in the jar!"

Skeeter stared at Lockhart, her mouth dropping open. "Gilderoy Lockhart! It is you!"

Hermione and Severus exchanged looks as they watched this by-play.

Lockhart made a little bow to Skeeter, who actually simpered. "I'm afraid you have the advantage of me, dear lady," he said gallantly.

"This is Rita Skeeter, Mr. Lockhart," Hermione said. "She's a ... a journalist."

Lockhart pressed a kiss to Skeeter's hand. "I am honoured to meet you, madam. I have long admired witches in your profession."

Hermione was biting her lip, but Severus was looking quite thoughtful.

Skeeter was looking at Lockhart as if he were the Playwitch pinup, which wasn't far wrong, really; he had won the Witch Weekly Most Charming Smile Award, after all. Lockhart was preening himself under Skeeter's blatant admiration. This could be the answer to their bug problem.

"So, Miss Skeeter, what's it to be?" Severus said softly.

All three of his auditors looked at him questioningly.

"The time has come for decision making," he continued, his unrelenting stare fixed on Skeeter's face.

Skeeter blanched; this man was scary. "I don't know what you mean," she said, her shifty eyes seeking out an avenue of escape.

"Let me make myself plain," he said menacingly. "You threatened my wife, under Veritaserum and in writing. That is inexcusable." Skeeter was looking more panicked by the moment; Lockhart, on the other hand, had lost interest in the conversation. He was now admiring his reflection in the mirror over the fireplace and passing under review in his mind the myriad of qualities he possessed that would engender such admiration as Rita Skeeter's from all members of the fairer sex.

"I am not an unreasonable man, Miss Skeeter," Severus said gravely. "I will allow you to choose your own fate."

Skeeter looked momentarily hopeful. The expression on Snape's unyielding face sobered her immediately.

"Your choices are as follows, Miss Skeeter:

"You may turn yourself in to the Ministry of Magic officials currently dining in the next room and confess that you are an unregistered Animagus; I'm sure that your time in Azkaban would be suitable to the crime."

Severus paused a moment to allow his words to sink into her tiny beetle brain. When he felt that she had processed the information, he continued.

"Or, you may transfigure yourself back into a beetle, at which point I will bind you in that form until your death."

Severus allowed the last word to roll off his tongue with relish; he wanted it to be the one word that Skeeter remembered from that particular option.

"Or, you can choose my personal favourite – I can do the world an immense service by ending your pathetic excuse of a life right now."

As he spoke these words, his wand hand shifted position ever so slightly, so that the wand pointed directly at her heart. The smile on his face was terrible to see; in that instant, Hermione recognized in him the Death Eater he once had been.

For a moment she thought her courage would fail her, then her absolute faith in her husband reasserted itself, and she rallied, shifting her own wand in concert with his. When they each felt her energy join with his in the unity of their combined power, neither of them could deny the moment of shining rapture that passed between them.

Skeeter cowered from the joint threat standing before her; she was so distraught that she almost missed Snape's next words.

"Or, Miss Skeeter, you can accept a position in a magically binding contract as Gilderoy Lockhart's assistant and biographer. This may well be the best offer you will ever have in what remains of your so-called life."

The relief with which Skeeter greeted this last offer brought her to her knees in a swoon; even Lockhart was aware of her weakened state, and he solicitously helped her move to the sofa. He was chafing her hands and suggesting that Hermione pour out a bit of brandy for her to swallow when Skeeter pushed him away and said, "The last one, Snape. I'll take the last one."

Gilderoy was quite pleased to find out he was to have an assistant, as well as a biographer. He willingly shook Skeeter's hand as the Snapes used their wands to seal the binding contract. He then had his own wand returned to him by that scary devil-looking fellow, and Madam Snape, who bade them return on Monday afternoon for a meeting regarding the remaining work to be done on the house, escorted him and Skeeter from the house.

It was a giddy Hermione and an indulgent Severus who joined their guests for what was left of their dinner party. Too much wine was drunk and much laughter rang out over the table. When at last the door to Enchanté was closed behind their friends, the Snapes were very pleased with the results of their first foray into entertaining.

Severus and Hermione collapsed side by side on the newly recovered sofa and exchanged grins.

"Let's not do that again real soon, hmm?" Severus said, pulling his wife against his chest. Hermione murmured her agreement and cuddled up to him. In the quiet moments that followed, Crookshanks sauntered into the room and jumped onto the sofa, stepping into Hermione's lap before curling up like a furry ginger cushion. From the other side of the room, Bast approached, leaping lightly into Severus' lap and beginning to clean herself. Each of the cats behaved as if the other were not present.

Severus stared at Crookshanks, as Hermione stared at Bast.

"When did..."

"How..."

They gaped at one another, speechless.

Nervously, Quirk sidled into the room. "Quirk is apologizing to Master for interrupting," he said, bowing low. Without waiting for a response, Quirk continued, "Quirk is telling Master and Mistress that the kitties have been very, very bad."

Quirk stared at the floor, not daring to raise his eyes.

Severus held up one hand. "Quirk, do you have somewhere you can go?"

Quirk looked up with terror in his elf eyes. "Master is not giving Quirk CLOTHES!"

Severus interposed before the elf could work himself into hysterics. "No, Quirk, Master wants to spend the weekend alone with Mistress. Can you go somewhere, please?"

Quirk cocked his head to one side. "Master is not angry that the kitties make babies?"

Severus sighed. "Let us say that Master is not angry with Quirk because the, erm, kitties make babies."

Quirk nearly bounced with happiness. "Quirk can go away for the weekend, Master. Quirk will come back for Monday morning breakfast."

With a loud "pop," Quirk Disapparated.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at Severus. "Where are we going to send the cats?" she asked him, playfully.

"The cats are on their own," he replied, gently moving Bast off his lap and standing. Hermione followed suit with Crookshanks, and for a moment, they stood and watched their familiars staring in opposite directions as if they had never met.

"Let's go practice making babies," Severus suggested, taking her hand.

"But I don't want babies right now," Hermione objected, following him to the stairs.

Severus scooped her into his arms and gazed down into her eyes. "As Great Aunt Seraphina says, you will want babies, sooner or later – and as your husband says, practice makes perfect."

---

---

A/N: The general hysteria of this story was suggested by my husband, who wondered out loud what would happen if ... and we brainstormed our way to this story, which grew and grew and grew. Hugs to MagicAlly, who answers inane questions such as, "What do you call a brief case?"

:::banging head on nearest hard surface:::

LariLee reminded me that in canon, Hermione put Skeeter in an unbreakable bottle – so naturally, I had to give Gilderoy the job of mucking *that* up!

I just have to say it: My readers rock. God bless y'all, every one.