Graduating

Cauldron cakes and two large gillywater go to my beta, Soprano in the Shadow, and my Britpicker, MagicAlly, for their patience and most valuable editing.

Graduating

The highlight of the school term, the celebration of the first ever O.W.L.s awarded at Salazar's Academy, was held in the evening after this four-days period. Incessant talks about dresses and hairstyles dominated the dormitories, the Great Hall and the corridors, infuriating the headmistress who never approved of any other topic than academic pursuits. Mandy Sands and her three friends greatly enjoyed the idea of Ginny in a hand-me-down, out-of-fashion outfit. Pansy, who still stood in the bad graces of several teachers, happily added her derision to the rest in an effort to intensify the scorn of the pupils, confident that it would aggravate Draco.

Severus happened upon the four girls unexpectedly. "Neither haute couture nor drama are part of this Academy's syllabus, Miss Sands. You obviously have too much free time at your disposal, which you do not devote to studying." The last sentence was a direct quote from the headmistress and made sure they would not seek her out to overturn his punishment.

With tremendous pleasure he recruited the girls to cleaning duties till their hands were red and sore, then made them pickle troll nostrils in a smelly marinade that would not wash off, no matter how much they brushed their sensitive skin.

The prima donnas wailed all through Tuesday, putting a strain on everybody's ears and nerves in addition to their noses. No matter where Ginny sat down in their Not-So-Great Hall, the quartet ended up taking the seats closest to her.

Half an hour into study time, Ginny had broken two quills, her essay had hardly developed, and the parchment was a crumbled, blotted mess. After conjuring a protective dome around her possessions, she stomped into the office of the Academy's most feared teacher.

She was back in the Great Hall minutes later and banged a shallow jar on the table. "With his regards...or rather contempt. Now shut it, so that at least other people get some work done here!"

As the wailing quartet disappeared into a bathroom, Draco, Theo and even Millicent crossed over to Ginny. "Don't tell me, Severus handed a cure out just like that?" Draco started.

"What is it anyway?" asked Theo.

"It's Murtlap essence, of course." Ginny preferred not to reveal the very Gryffindor details that had made her value this particular ointment, neither Umbridge's blood quill nor her brothers' fever boils. She turned to Draco, adding, "And no, he did not. I had to blackmail him."

Draco raised an eyebrow questioningly. Millicent, Theo and the random bystanders gaped.

"How exactly does one do that?" a voice from the back asked.

"I don't even want to know," another replied. Retching noises behind his back made Draco turn around sharply, and the culprit fell silent. It was the first indication that Draco Malfoy's standing had improved.

"Nothing that would work for you. I announced I'd disappear with Theo for the whole O.W.L.s festivity."

"Watch your back, Theo," Draco quipped, and his friend blushed furiously. "Can he still have one dance or would Professor Snape hex him into oblivion?"

"He certainly can, and I'll be honoured. I'm not sure what skills to expect from my husband in this regard," and I already know that more than enough parents will engross him with incessant questions, Ginny added mentally.

"You danced with Longbottom," a voice in the back growled, but Ginny and her friends didn't react to it.

:*:*:*:

The pupils of years three and younger received an early dinner and were sent home. As a pedagogical encouragement, the fourth years had, however, been permitted...that is, forced...to participate at the ceremony for the O.W.L.s graduates. The elder pupils were present as well.

The arrangement raised Severus' hackles. For good reason, Hogwarts had never handed out the O.W.L.s reports personally. However, back then they had also hardly ever terminated a school career. Very few examples came to his mind; Stan Shunpike for one, had received four charity O.W.L.s after six years of school and left then. The situation was quite different now.

Right after the last lesson, his wife and graduate ordered him into their chambers. Equipped with a wide-toothed comb, he was to work his way through her hair. She sat straight upright, at first facing the wall, but eventually he turned her around and leaned her head against his shoulders.

"Do you remember that?"

Severus certainly did, but produced only a gruff rumble as a reply. His hand was seized nevertheless and bestowed with a series of light kisses that passed over scars, a torn cuticle, wrinkled joints and calluses alike.

Eventually, her hair was detangled, and he stepped back to assess his work. She looked angelic! She deserved to be courted by her peers, each of them eager to share at least one dance with her. She ought to be protectively watched by her father or eldest brother against the one or two who might gather the courage to seek out her lips. Instead, she was bound to an old, ugly outcast and a felon, once justice would be reinstated.

However, she was not yet satisfied but expected him to somehow braid and arrange her hair. His fingers felt clumsy and fat. They were too short to hold her strands, but at the same time too long to wind hair around.

"Do you absolutely have to wear it pinned up?"

"Severus, please," she moaned, holding up a long, wire-thin and flimsy hair pin.

"Isn't there a spell?"

"Of course there are spells, if you can conduct several strands of a few thousand hairs at a time. I at least can't."

Severus called upon Circe, Nimue and Morgana as he twisted and bent the left strand for the umpteenth time, thereby carefully observing the right lock and again neglecting the centre. He needed more fingers; when at the same time, the ones he had were perpetually in each other's way.

A knock at the door interrupted them. Severus huffed. "If I drop it now, we start again." Louder he asked, "Who is it?"

"Millicent Bulstrode. I was wondering if your wife needed help, sir."

Gladly, he let go completely. "The witches heard my prayers. Please, Ginevra, remain careful around her, though." Waving the door open, Severus said aloud, "Do whatever she wants, I declare my defeat."

He distinctly heard his wife huff, "Men", and he found he didn't care. Out of this room, just let me out! I don't have to know these things, he thought. I might still adore the result, though. He left the door ajar, not trusting Miss Bulstrode entirely.

Inside, red hair was wound, spelled and pinned. "Honestly said, I'm not too good at this. I was escaping the cows in our dormitory and their chatter. As if dresses and make-up were the key thing," Millie complained.

Severus tuned out the idle, harmless prattle and helped himself generously to water and tea. The next hours would either leave him parched or oblige him to amounts of alcohol he couldn't afford to consume.

"You might choose linen rather than such soft material," Ginny suggested at some point. "I've seen that Muggles have a wide selection of such garments." She stopped herself just in time.

With a huff Millicent answered, "I take whatever doesn't make me look like an Erumpent."

"You will always look determined and strong, but that is what you are, so there is nothing wrong with it. Clothes that support it look better than attempts to cover and hide it."

Finally, his wife appeared in the door. Severus' heart skipped a beat seeing her womanly shape so well accentuated. She was perfectly poised, too. She strode past him and turned with a confidence that seeped deeply into Severus' heart, thawing away some more icicles. Her straight hair was gathered in a small bun on the crown of her head. No, it wasn't impressive, neither bouffant nor decorated with shiny ribbons or sparkling beads, but his witch carried her head high and proudly, and that was what counted for Severus.

Her neckline, while not the most delicate, was well defined and straight. Her Muggle necklace with the feline pendant hung proudly in the groove of her cleavage, daring anyone to comment, and a few ringlets of hair, which had been allowed to escape from the bun playfully, bounced with her step, softening her overall appearance.

With satisfaction, Severus noted that she had done very little to hide her Weasley freckles, merely covered the one cluster that sat at a disadvantageous place of her décolletage, just above the deepest point, and off centre.

Both witches put on their shoes and were gone in an instant.

Severus couldn't have named a single detail of Miss Bulstrode's outfit or appearance, so occupied had he been with Ginevra's transformation.

How could she be so many people in one...fierce and skilled fighter, efficient housewife, diligent student, easy companion and fully satisfying lover? Their intense lovemaking that had invoked the Stimufidelius Charm sneaked to the forefront of his mind. She had wriggled under and around him and uttered the most unusual sounds. The reminiscence brought Severus' body and mind into a dangerous state. He wanted to rush out and hold her and preferably Apparate them straight home. Before he lost his capability to think he thought of their headmistress, which cooled him down enough to follow the women.

:*:*:*:

Severus took in the preparations in the not-so-Great Hall, which appeared to have been enlarged. In a poor copy of Hogwarts, Professors Flank and Barnes had put up banners and arranged smaller tables along the sides. The Shrill Trio had set up in the buffet corner. Splendid, just my type of music. He'd soon be off wandering the house and checking on overly hormonal youngsters. Oh, but then one youngster might feel encouraged to... No, he knew she would not, and yet, he called to himself, Severus Snape, this time you will stay, and you will dance!

Ginevra's light conversation with Miss Bulstrode and Draco stopped when her very dearest friends recognised her in her festive blue dress with its matching robe. Although by far not as costly as some of the samples from Twilfitt and Tatting's or French couture, she was dressed more than adequately. Take that, Severus' mind shouted at the wailing quartet, each dressed to the nines, but now gawking open-mouthed like fish, shoulders slumping. The clumsy lot had subjected their feet to veritable monstrosities of heels that had to be held upright with a stabilising charm. Ginevra, on the other hand, had full control over her modest heels thanks to their regular exercise.

The rest of the students also hung around in groups, and several of them frowned at each other or searched for solitary students they could harass. Some crowd control was definitely in order. Severus sighed and searched out the most level-headed fourth year in his Colour and also summoned the prefects. "I need you to watch over the students of our Colour. Observe them all and intervene before they dare to become creative. Nothing is to disturb the ceremony tonight, but this unusual set up is..." He cleared his throat to not reveal what he thought of it, which seemed to make an impression on his prefects. "...tempting, but anyone underestimating our Lord's ambition with the Academy is dearly ill advised. He will identify the culprits of any disruption and then woe betide them, and in proxy their Colour."

One by one, the parents made an appearance, some tastefully, festively dressed, others sporting a garish look. They began chatting with their children in different levels of anxiety or foreboding, and Severus tried his best to remain in the background.

Ginevra was on her way towards Theodore when she spotted him. With a frown she turned sharply.

He stiffened as she approached him, her jaw set like a Veela on a mission. "Severus Snape, you have two options, either you follow me surreptitiously or I'll drag you along as if we were married for four decades, rather than four months."

He preferred to follow on his own, but could not stop a retort. "You won't drag me anywhere in forty years either!" he tried, sounding meek to his own ears. She didn't even bother to snort.

In their rooms, he was combed, and his clothes were checked over. "I brought your best robes for tonight, and you need something green. Don't contradict me!" She bound his hair at the nape with a fern green bow that lay on his desk and charmed the handkerchief for his pocket in a matching tone. "You're the Head of the Green Colour, remember. Hmm, you look good. I'll have to watch you!" With a deft kiss on his cheek, she was gone.

:*:*:*:

The Dark Lord's speech on ambition, proof on achieving goals, and getting the rewards deserved, left several students shivering with foreboding. Mothers searched for their husband's hands as he continued elaborating the consequences of faking one's achievements.

Suddenly, his bloodshot eyes roamed the crescent the fifth years formed in front of him. His voice became razor-sharp. "Frank Drillssstrand?"

The addressed boy was already as white as a sheet; now he trembled and beads of sweat garnered his forehead. His feet barely carried him the required steps out of their group.

"What would you sssee as cheating?"

Before he could say a word, the boy fainted.

"Wake him. He mussst feel how his deeds are rewarded."

Gregory Goyle, wherever he had suddenly come from, conjured two buckets of water which he poured over the still form. When Drillstrand revived, he made him stand, facing their master. "Anssswer, boy, loud and clear, for everyone to undersssstand why you exchanged your missserable brew with sssomeone's perfect one."

Frank, of course, had nothing but a stammered excuse that his brew had turned sticky unexpectedly, and the opportunity had been so perfect... The Dark Lord's curse hit him hard. He wriggled under the pain, and his screams filled the hall. Ginny felt a hand grip hers, and she pressed it, not caring who might search her out for support.

Eventually, the shrieks stopped, but Frank was whimpering in pain.

"Ginevra Sssnape," their master called. "It was you he wanted to take advantage of. What punishment do you want to sssee?"

At that moment, Ginny was glad to have the hand to squeeze and barely noticed the wince as she closed it tight. Her mind was racing while the red, snake eyes looked at her expectantly. She bent her head automatically so that he would not get access to her thoughts. There was no way to consult Severus. She could not even see him, for the Dark Lord had positioned himself between them. A memory of sixteen year old Tom ranting about students undeserving a magical education came to her rescue. Send them straight to a coal bed or quarry, I say!

"My Lord, Frank attempted to make you believe in achievements that were not his. I could not trust him another time if he reports a success. He... might still be useful for menial tasks, though. I..."

She finished her last sentence with force in her voice and in her hand that still pressed the unknown one. "I would set him to hard, physical labour, my Lord, and, of course, confiscate his wand."

"Very well. Accio, cheater'sss wand! Now take the ssscum out," the Dark Lord shouted dismissively as he pocketed the instrument. "I'm not willing to sssee parasssites like him in this house of academic achievementsss."

Goyle went forward, easily shouldered the bundle that was Frank Drillstrand and left. Two adults silently left the hall, clinging to each other. Severus stepped forward and Banished the water before anyone else deprived him of the chance to briefly sight his witch. Merlin, these three minutes had cost him. He felt a decade older, and a pint of sweat seemed to drench his clothes. Ginevra had selected this punishment wisely. It crushed every pure-blood family's ego, but was, after all, reversible. He felt relief that the Drillstrands didn't have a following that would dare to come after Ginny for revenge.

:*:*:*:

"Now let's hear the results of the first ever O.W.L.s examinations at Salazar's Academy," Headmistress Mulciber declared pompously and stepped forward to face the graduates. To nobody's surprise Larry Thompson was called first. He would have nothing but O's, Ginny suspected, except possibly in Duelling, which he always approached with his lips clamped together, desperately missing clear instructions in written format. Larry received his diploma, shook the headmistress' hand and proceeded off to the left where his Head of Colour, Severus, congratulated him in his customary, stiff manner. Ginny nearly giggled at this display of normalcy after the tension minutes ago. The Dark Lord came next, his face nondescript as always. Larry gripped the scaly hand without hesitation and bowed deeply. Then he was received by his parents who embraced him and congratulated him warmly.

A girl was called now, whose name Ginny could not recall, and Severus retreated to make room for Professor Flank. Ginny saw the girl breathing deeply on her way from Flank to the Dark Lord and then presenting her diploma to a man, who set his arm on her shoulder.

One more pupil was honoured before the headmistress flinched and wanted to place the report to the bottom of the pile. Scaly hands gripped her wrist. "M... my Lord?"

Ginny saw fury flicker up before the red eyes focused on her again. "Ginevra Sssnape," their master announced, and Ginny received her diploma out of his hands directly. Dutifully, she proceeded to Professor Flank, her Head of Colour, who congratulated her in her usual, impersonal way. Not feeling obliged to seek out the headmistress, Ginny went towards where the parents stood...all the other pupils' parents, that is.

Several pupils later, Severus was at her side for a very short grip on her shoulders but had to go quickly to congratulate his next charge. Eventually, the headmistress announced, "We've honoured the best third of our O.W.L.s graduates. They will most certainly stay at least until summer. For the following third, their end-of-term exams before Easter will be crucial.

First was Florence. Praising her extraordinary Transfiguration work, the Headmistress almost showed something akin to real feelings. She was passed on to Severus and the Dark Lord. Her parents, however, barely nodded, clearly disappointed with her.

Ginny hoped and hoped to hear Heather's name, but it would not come. She was only called among the last third...when the Dark Lord had already left. These pupils could stay until further notice, as the official formulation was. For the female part this meant until they were married off.

:*:*:*:

Elves from the Malfoys' and Sands' households had outdone themselves with an elaborate meal, which they were even serving tonight.

Severus was duty bound to stay at the teachers' table for the meal. He could not possibly avoid dancing with the headmistress, and so asked her as soon as she had put down her dessert spoon, in the middle of a set. He endured her left hand clamped around his upper arm in what was akin to a foxtrot and her heels on the backs of his feet during the waltz that followed. When the Weird Sisters struck up a wild beat, he silently accompanied her to her seat, bowed and hoped she had hated the experience as much as he did.

When turning, a tray of glasses and canapés floated into Severus' reach, distracting him long enough to pass by the seated female teachers as he scanned the room for troublemakers.

His wife and Draco were displaying a wild dancing style to the beat that would have raised Lucius' hackles. Abraxas Malfoy's derisive comments on the corybantic, licentious Muggles played in Severus mind without asking for an invitation. Teenaged Lucius had absorbed the attitude like a sponge, and Severus, boot-licking idiot that he was, had been deeply ashamed of his heritage.

Draco shows more spine, Severus thought. He wanted to feel proud of the boy, but when he looked at the heated faces of the young dancers, jealousy built in his intestines and rose like bile, bitter and consuming. Never had he permitted himself such light frivolity, and now his own wife was enjoying herself with another rather than him. He swallowed down the bad feelings; he would not allow them to consume him!

He had already reached the end of the dais and now took the opportunity to break protocol and proceed to a table with two pupils of Slytherin house and their mothers. Neither family had a husband left to accompany them and stabilise their position among the Death Eaters, therefore they welcomed the little boost that his company could provide.

The first of Severus' new table mates easily matched his stride to a classic rhythm and left him to his thoughts. Lazily circling, Severus observed Draco nudging Theodore until the latter finally gathered his courage and asked Ginevra. The shy boy knew his steps well enough to challenge Ginevra, sway elegantly and steer clear of Severus all at the same time.

The second woman at Severus' table barely focused on the dance. She was more of the talking sort. "Beltane will be such a big event; our master is having us plan it already."

When the music faded out, she said, "Thank you, Professor Snape, for coming to sit and dance with us."

"My pleasure, entirely."

"However, now your beautiful wife is coming over, and you'll want to spend the rest of the night with her, I'm sure." Severus bowed gladly and led the woman back to their places where Draco was just pulling out the sixth chair for a fairly winded Ginevra. She eagerly took the beaker that swayed into her direction. The boy had the audacity to wink at Severus as he snatched the other one and left.

Refreshed from the large beaker of chilled pumpkin juice, Ginny nudged Severus' shins under the table.

Her expectant eyes warmed his core, and he rose. He led her to a free spot on the floor, held out his arms, and the most beautiful woman in the room eagerly stepped in. "At last," she sighed.

Severus' heart somersaulted as he paced the long strides of the foxtrot, her body in his right arm, her smile for no one other than him.

Their step-length aligned with the first few bars, and he guided her around the hall counter-clockwise, slow, slow, quick, quick.

"You can be very proud of yourself, Ginevra," he said. "I certainly am."

"Maybe tomorrow," she replied, misty-eyed. "Tonight I don't want to think about anything else other than staying right here with you."

Another round, and from under the dais, Severus' gaze wandered across the assembled out of habit. The dance floor was less populated than he would have liked, and too many eyes were directed at him.

At that moment, Ginevra tensed in his arms and her brows rose. "The hag! Why the bloody ..."

With three beats Severus had surreptitiously turned them and saw the headmistress leave the band. Their leader shrugged helplessly at the players. "What happened, dear?"

"Her gestures were clear," Ginevra said through gritted teeth. "They are to end the set and the evening after this piece. Ah, and now she sits on her throne, so very proud of herself. Huh, are you throwing hexes behind my back?"

"Just a minor confundment. If this is to be the last piece, then we'll have to start it all over," Severus explained. And so it happened: after what should have been the last refrain, the singer began with the first stanza. "Ollivander's short wand IS very convenient; remind me to thank him."

Ginevra relaxed again and giggled a bit, saying, "I will. We should invite him again."

She leaned her head at his shoulder, and he slowed his pace for a few bars, enjoying her so close. As the music got stronger though, Severus straightened again. The pair took wider strides, swaying with the rhythm, enjoying the few more minutes they had stolen.

"Thank you, Severus."

"My pleasure, I assure you."

"Can you do it again?"

"We don't what to reveal our tricks, Ginevra. The headmistress has been following our every move for these last minutes."

Not only the Snapes were utterly disappointed when the Weird Sisters thanked them for the evening and began gathering their paraphernalia. The applause quickly turned into rhythmic claps and shouts for an encore.

Their spokeswoman renewed her Sonorus charm to respond. "I'm sorry, guys, we cannot continue tonight."

Severus had never before heard catcalls and angry whistles in the wizarding world, but the young audience was obviously not beyond such means this night.

It was the fiddler who finally declared that a band has to maintain their reputation above the wishes of a headmistress. "One more dance for our fantastic audience tonight!"

She nodded to the trumpeter, and they intoned a wild sort of polka. The students shrieked in delight, and the dance floor around Severus and Ginny filled with pairs, whose eagerness often surpassed their skills.

Severus directed a protective spell towards their shins and Ginny's skirt.

"Well then, milady," he said and placed both hands on his girl's hips before she offered to sit down. Oh no, he would not give in, and if his back ached for days to come. He swayed her left and right on the spot, commanding, "Let's begin with left and right chassés, and we'll do just fine. Place both your hands on my shoulders so we don't lose each other."

The arousing spectacle was anything but the demure elegance their headmistress had wanted, and everyone seemed to agree that it served her right. Soon enough, Ginny and Severus romped about with everyone else, including many pairs of parents, who had unceremoniously Banished the tables to get more space.

A set of Durmstrang students from the continent gathered in triplets and surprised everyone else with what they called a heel-and-tip polka. Those not feeling spry enough to partake in the dance itself, formed a ring around them, clapping with the beat and protecting them against the rambunctious throng.

"Now that you're thoroughly exhausted, we can bid you good bye with a clear conscience," the spokeswoman from the band shouted over the roaring applause.

The pair hurried to their quarters, grabbed their satchels and arrived at Spinner's End in no time.

His mouth otherwise occupied, Severus had to erect their wards non-verbally and fend off eager hands from his garments at the same time.

"Patience is a virtue," he said while taking down her still immaculately arranged hair.

"I ditch all patience when you're so damnable sexy!"

:*:*:*:

:*:*:*:

A/N :

The polka is very popular in Continental Europe, from where the Durmstrang students come. They're showing a rackety, magic version of this choreography,

http://www.myvideo.de/watch/2951029/Polka_zu_Dreien_Hacke_Spitze

It conveniently allows dance-hungry girls to share the few boys that are willing. However, these poor Muggle children seem to have been sedated, don't they? I assure you, Salazar's Academy saw a far more lively version!