Facing Friends

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o 30 o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Facing Friends

Hermione awakened, finding herself snuggled against Severus on a huge recliner, fully dressed except for her shoes. She rose off him, stretching, and gaped at the sight of her toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, hairbrush and a change of clothes sitting on the coffee table in front of her. “When…? Who? Did you…?” she stammered, turning to look at him.

“The Hogwarts house-elves are efficient,” he stated as he turned the page of his morning paper.

A loud crackle in the fireplace caught her attention, drawing her gaze to something moving in the fire. What was left of the morning edition of the Daily Prophet she noted, was turning black as the pages curled in the flames while it burned. “Something they printed bothered you?” she asked, indicating the paper.

“Malignant falsifications and ridiculous innuendos,” he stated contemptuously as he glared at the paper in his hands. “If you’d like to freshen up for breakfast, you may use my bath.”

Hermione shook her head. “I should be returning home,” she replied, wondering what had been printed in the Daily Prophet to make him burn it.

He closed the paper as he lowered his hands to his lap with an exasperated sigh. “I would like you to at least stay for breakfast, Hermione. I know that your professors would be delighted to have you join us.”

Hermione considered his request for a second, deciding it might be nice to have breakfast with him, then contemplated whether to go shower and if she’d have enough time.

Severus audibly sighed, sounding more like an annoyed huff, and tossed his paper aside when she pocketed her tooth- and hairbrush. “Fine, I’ll—”

She looked up at him, holding her wand to shrink her clothes, wondering what set him off. “No, I want to, but I think I’ll… What?”

His eyes narrowed and his brow creased.

“You did say I could freshen up,” she stated, watching the minute flickers of confusion change to an expression of comprehension on his face.

“Yes, I did. I’ll show you where.” He stood and she followed him up the stairs at the back of the sitting room to a bedroom.

Hermione froze in the doorway of the room, staring at a huge bed, the only piece of furniture the large round room seemed to hold. The head of the bed was recessed into the thick stone wall with the canopy of the bed actually carved out of stone, which appeared to have grown out of the wall and echoed the shape of the vaulted ceiling, and was ornately decorated with gold leaf, lots of abalone, and mother of pearl. Heavy dark blue curtains were tied back to reveal a large headboard bearing the Hogwarts coat of arms, and two tree-like posts, complete with branches and roots, stood at the foot of the bed as if to anchor it from ceiling to floor. A padded bench sat beside the bed like a step and a beautiful upholstered bench at the foot between the trees…

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Severus said with a hint of mockery in his tone from behind her.

“It’s…” she gasped, completely at a loss of words. Frightening. Imposing… and if I move in here with him… Oh, my gods! He wants me to sleep with him in that?! Hermione turned slowly to gaze about the room, seeing a huge wardrobe that curved to fit against the wall and a large marble fireplace, both that took up a good section of the walls. The bed and wardrobe were both flanked by diamond-paned windows with dark blue curtains. There was another doorway across the room, obviously the bathroom.

Somehow, the very idea of walking across the room, around that bed, with Severus watching her made her legs feel rubbery. “Like a room you’d expect for a… king,” she said softly, eager to leave.

“It was designed by Carolus Theodald, the first Headmaster of Hogwarts, around the time of the Third Crusade. The Headmaster’s office was his design as well. This room was updated during the Baroque era,” Severus said, moving away from the doorframe as he approached her. “The bathroom is through there. Please, you’re holding up breakfast.”

Hermione swallowed back her reservations and strode purposefully to the bath. Once again, Hermione stopped in the doorway, surprised by what she saw. In contrast, the almost normal-looking bathroom was quite shocking compared to the lavish royal opulence of the bedroom. It was bright: everything was white against pale yellow walls: white counters, cupboard with shelves, and a large white clawed-foot tub with brass fixtures that reminded her of a bathroom out of Real Homes magazine. Yellow towels hung on a brass bar and also filled two of the shelves. The floor, made of sand-colored tiles, had plush, yellow Muggle rugs lying in front of the tub, the shell-shaped washbasin, and even on the lid of the toilet seat. What really tickled her was the bowl of lemons and potpourri on the counter.

She washed her face, then brushed her teeth, and contemplated brushing her hair, knowing that would only make it fuzzier. Severus was waiting for her by the door. “So am I to believe that you like dark blue and yellow?” she asked, blushing at his dark scowl.

“I like dark colors,” he said and grit his teeth. “The office and Headmaster’s room don’t change much, as you can tell, except in the color of the drapes. Albus has some curse on the bathroom so I can’t… that I haven’t had time to undo. He liked yellow – and purple.” His brisk manner on the subject made Hermione hold her tongue on any further questions regarding the décor.

When Severus opened the door for her to enter the Great Hall, the conversation stopped. At first she thought it was due to Severus’ entry, but Hagrid’s booming cry of, “Look! It’s Hermione!” made her smile.

“Blimey, girl, I’d not expected to see you until Tuesday,” said Dawlish, a wizard Hermione knew had been in the Order but had only met once.

She was interrupted from answering by Professor McGonagall’s, “My dear girl, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Professor,” Hermione replied as Severus guided her to a seat. He quickly introduced her to the new professors as his Bonded mate as the food arrived. Severus turned to speak to Reginald Reynolds, who Hermione was introduced to as the new Potions professor.

“You are Bonded to the Headmaster?” Professor Tigran Avoian, an Armenian wizard with a Russian accent asked, holding his knife poised over his sausages. “I think I see you in the paper with a blond… or a red-haired wizard. No?”

“Don’t always believe what Rita Skeeter writes in the Prophet,” Severus answered for her. “The red-haired man is a friend of hers, Mr. Ronald Weasley. The blond is my godson, Draco Malfoy.”

She turned to gape at him in astonishment. “What was in it?” she asked, her stomach lurching.

“An exaggerated fabrication of the facts and a shameful misrepresentation of the occurrence in the image,” Severus stated indifferently.

“In other words, Rita lied,” Professor McGonagall stated, adding cream to her tea.

Severus turned his attention on her. “When has she not?”

“Well stated,” Madam Hooch replied. “So, if Master Draco was not in fact absconding with your wife, what was he doing?”

“He saved her life from the attack of a Death Eater,” Severus said, in Hooch’s direction as he casually spread marmalade on his toast.

Minerva dropped her fork, making bits of her eggs flip off her plate. “He what?!”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Severus calmly recounted the facts concisely as if reporting the event to the Order.

Dawlish snorted in his juice. “Well if that don’t take the pasty! So the ferret did change sides after all. I’ll be dragon flamed.”

Professor Flitwick turned to Hermione. “I’m so glad you’ve decided to return. I was hoping to have you join my Charms Club.”

“Did yeh really fly on a Dragon,” Dawlish asked, stuffing his face. “Or was that Thestral shite that Skeeter wench thought up as well?”

“John!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed affronted. “Language.”

“School ain’t started, and I wanna know,” he said gruffly to her, then turned back to Hermione.

Hermione swallowed down her eggs with a sip of juice. “Yes, Harry, Ron, and I broke into Gringotts and flew out on a very old dragon.”

“Rides dragons, brews Polyjuice, produced a Patronus in fifth year, and Bonded you,” Professor Reynolds said to Severus with a smirk, then turned to Hermione. “What am I supposed to teach you?”

“I’d suggest how to research what a potion does before brewing it would be a good start,” Severus said, smirking at her.

Professor McGonagall glared at Severus and turned to Hermione. “So, how are Messrs Potter and Weasley?”

Professors Flitwick, Sprout, Avoian and Hagrid all turned to her with expectant faces. “They are both doing well. As you know, they accepted the honorary N.E.W.T.s being offered by the Ministry and went straight into the Auror’s program.”

“Naugh’ that I blame ’em,” Dawlish stated with his mouth full. “Not like they need much else here that they can’t get in training if they defeated ol’ snake face, is there?”

Hermione, Severus and several of the professors gave him rueful glares. “Wha’? He don’t do he? Boy’s a natural at chasing after Dark wizards.”

Hermione decided to ignore Dawlish and struck up a conversation with Professor Avoian. After a while, she really regretted that she’d dropped History of Magic. The man was a bloody encyclopedia of knowledge and funny as well. When the meal was over, she sought out Professor McGonagall to see if she could possibly add his class to her schedule.

Two hours later, Hermione stepped from the Floo at Grimmauld Place. She was dusting the ashes off her clothes, listening to the thunderous footfalls grow louder on the stars, knowing that any minute Harry and Ginny would burst through the door. Harry arrived first, followed by Ron, Neville, Ginny, Dean, and two other wizards she didn’t know.

“Where have you been?” Harry asked as he rushed across the room and grasped her by the shoulders. “I waited up all night…”

“She was with Severus,” Ginny said, placing her hand on his arm.

Harry turned his head to look at her but didn’t release Hermione. “I know that; Draco told me.”

“So what’s the problem? She’s fine!”

Neville stepped forward, asking, “When did Draco tell you?”

“We came here first, thinking she’d come home, then went to St. Mungo’s, thinking she’d been hurt and then to Malfoy Manor, trying to find her,” Ron stated from across the room.

Harry was still talking to Ginny, “She could have told me she was going to be gone all night!”

“But we knew she was all right,” Ginny said, trying to reason with him.

“She was attacked in—”

“Do I need to be a part of this?” Hermione asked, gently removing Harry’s hands from his death grip on her arms. “Harry, Draco saved me from Gibbon. So did Rowle, but he was actually—”

“Hayward Blume, my Strategic Defense instructor,” Harry interrupted. “I know about that part. Then Draco took you to his house. Aaron Brodes and I were standing guard outside George’s shop when Draco Disapparated with you, and we knew that you left from Malfoy Manor with Severus after he apprehended Foulkes and Gibbon….”

“So you know more than I do,” Hermione said and squeezed his hands. “Severus and I went to Hogwarts for dinner, and I fell asleep in his sitting room.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “Did you see the new Great Hall? I hear that the windows are gorgeous!”

Hermione smiled. “Oh, Gin, wait until you see them! There is a new rose window over the huge window behind the staff table, and each of the other twenty-eight windows now have stain glass insets of magical beasts. I think they used Firenze for the centaur; it looks just like him. It’s all so amazing.”

“Ooooh, what else?” Ginny gasped, grasping her arm. “Tell me! I remember that the South wing, south courtyard, and the West Tower had been demolished.”

“It’s all rebuilt, and except for the new gargoyles it’s the same. However, the stairs to the owlery are deeper and much easier to ascend, and there is now a covered walk colonnade until you reach the top and spells so you don’t get wet when it rains. Professor McGonagall told me that the dorms were all refurbished with new beds, drapes, and carpets. Even the common rooms all have new tables, chairs, and sofas, and the portrait hole for Gryffindor is an archway behind the Fat Lady now! No more stooping to scramble through.”

“Can you believe this?” Harry snarled as he threw up his hands and turned to Ron and Dean. “She’s more concerned with how the castle was redecorated and that you can send a letter without getting wet than the attack on her life!”

Hermione ignored him, continuing as if he hadn’t interrupted her. “The restoration of the marble in the Entrance Hall was done so well there isn’t any evidence that a battle ever took place.” Hermione looped her arm around Ginny’s and started walking with her to the stairs. “The second and third floors were totally renovated into large classrooms, the fifth floor has a lounge for the prefects and Quidditch captains, and the library is huge! There are easily two thousand or more new books. It nearly takes up the whole floor now!”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see it!” Ginny said, smiling.

“Well, mate, she was with Severus. We knew she’d be all right,” Ron said, and then shrugged when Harry scowled at him. “Okay, I knew she was all right.”

“And you were supposed to be with her!” Harry shouted, his hands in fists by his side.

“She was right beside me when I stopped to look at the new Nimbus – I asked her to wait, but she didn’t,” Ron argued back. Apparently this was an argument they’d had before. “Look, mate, I fucked up. She didn’t wait, and I didn’t see her walk off.”

Hermione froze, now listening intently. “I messed up,” Ron said and Harry yelled, “She could’ve been killed!”

“Guys, she’s fine now!” Dean shouted to gain their attention. “Luckily Draco Malfoy decided to protect her. What I wanna know is why?”

“He’s Severus Snape’s godson,” Hermione stated, making the guys all turn to look at her. “He took me to the Manor, all right? Ron, I’m sorry I walked off. I should’ve stayed and admired the bloody broom – but I don’t live and breathe Quidditch.”

Hermione walked over to Ron. “I’m sorry. I – it was irresponsible and stupid of me to walk away. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do it again,” Ron said and gave her a quick one-arm hug.

“Hi, Dean,” Hermione acknowledged him finally. “It’s good to see you. I just want to freshen up, okay? I’ll be back down in a minute.”

“In girl, that means half an hour,” Ron told Dean with a smirk.

Hermione pulled Ginny out of the room with her. “Let the guys talk. Just think, a few more days and we’ll be returning,” she said, letting go of Ginny’s hand.

Ginny took a step backwards, beaming. “Go shower, and I’ll go calm Harry down. He’s only concerned that you were attacked. I told him you said you were fine, but he was really upset. The report was you were hit with a curse but he couldn’t find you.”

“No – wait, you told him?” Hermione asked, creases forming between her brows. “I sent the message through my Patronus, Gin. How did you know…?”

“I was here when your Patronus arrived. Harry had just Apparated, so I intercepted it,” Ginny admitted. “Go shower and we’ll talk.”

“Harry’s been so possessive, overly protective lately. I don’t get it. Why?” Hermione asked with a deep sigh.

Ginny raised her eye brows and shook her head. “Well, you haven’t been very vigilant lately, have you?”

Hermione buried her face in her hands, then peeked through her fingers at Ginny. “Did you see what was in the Prophet this morning? Does that have anything to do with it?”

“No. No one is buying that tripe! At least your friends aren’t. My mum has been on a writing campaign to have Rita write a retraction and tell the truth, and apparently Narcissa Malfoy sent a letter to the editor. She said so in her letter to you. Here.” Ginny pulled her hand down and shoved a letter in it. “I’m sorry; I read it thinking it was… It’s odd, her being nice to us all of a sudden. Oh, and don’t forget, we have dinner with the Malfoys, sooooo… I need to buy decent robes. We’re going shopping. It’s why Dean is here.”

“Dean is taking us shopping?” Hermione asked, looking at Ginny with a start.

Ginny started to laugh. “No. Neville, Ron, Harry, Aurors Hobday and Fairley and Dean are taking us shopping. Luna said she’s wearing the dress she wore to Bill’s wedding.”

“What?” Hermione gasped, staring at her friend in disbelief. “Three Auror trainees and two Aurors just to escort us shopping? Is Severus mad?”

“Nope, Harry and Kingsley are mad,” Ginny stated, “and its only two Auror trainees, Dean is returning to Hogwarts and needs new robes. Neville needs to get some clothes for his trek in the northern Mediterranean mountains with Felix Marchbanks, but in Harry’s mind, two more DA members mean two more wands, especially since you tend to wander off without telling anyone.”

“It was mid-day on a busy street. How was…” Hermione turned her head with a deep sigh and then shot Ginny an exasperated glare. “Fine. I was in the wrong, okay? By the way, Neville said they were leaving for the expedition in two weeks, right?” she asked.

“Neville will be here until mid-September; he’s getting married on the first Saturday of the month. Oh, and you and I are bridesmaids, well, Luna’s attendants as Mrs. Longbottom put it. So we have to wear a bright sunny color. Luna suggested yellow,” Ginny said with a grin, turning her back and bounding down the stairs.

Hermione burst out laughing, recalling Severus’ bathroom. “Oh, yes, definitely yellow.”

After breakfast, Severus asked Kirch to take a letter to Kingsley for him and to wait for a reply, allowing the timid elf to use his Floo. Already there were letters arriving in response to Rita Skeeter’s article. He didn’t read any of them, simply checked for exploding or malicious contents that he could turn over to the Aurors. Three contained minor curses and one contained some substance even he was hard pressed to identify. Kirch arrived as he’d incinerated the last letter.

“Headmaster, master, sir, I is to tells you that the men you wanted to see is still being at the Ministry,” he said with a bow.

“Thank you, Kirch, you were most expedient,” Severus said as he stood up. “Take some lemon drops.” The elf happily helped himself, popping out the same time he put one of the candies in his mouth. It was one way to dispense with the confections in the ever-refilling bowl. He scooped up a palm full of Floo powder and tossed it in the fire. “Ministry of Magic.”

Kingsley met him in the atrium and took him to the Auror holding cells. “Who did you want to see first?” Kingsley asked indicating two doors with small, one-way windows.

Severus looked into one window at Alberic Gibbon sitting chained to a chair, and then stepped across the hall to look at Aston Foulkes. Unlike Gibbon, Foulkes was slumped in his chains and appeared dejected, whereas Gibbon sported a fresh cut lip and was sitting up straight. “I’ll start with Foulkes,” he said with a hitch of his thumb at the door.

“All right, but no poisons, no curses, no physical contact, and no Dark Arts or Unforgivables,” Kingsley warned him. “I hate the paper work, and I don’t want to arrest you.”

“You are taking the fun out of this,” Severus said with a smirk. “If I find out anything, I will want to use the Pensieve in your office.”

Kingsley unlocked the door with a sweep of his hand. “Only if I get to watch too.”

“I’m counting on it,” Severus stated and entered the room. Aston Foulkes eyes widened in surprise then narrowed, the exact reaction Severus had hoped for, recognition followed by suspicion.

“I aint tellin’ yeh, notin’,” he spat.

Severus sat on the chair across from him with ease. “How do you know what I want to ask you?”

“I isn’t one of ‘em,” Foulkes spat with a bit of blood spittle.

He’d been roughed up. Good. Severus assumed a relaxed pose often mistaken for nonchalance. “Your companion in the other room says otherwise,” he stated smoothly.

“‘E did naugh’! ‘E wouldn’ say nothin’,” Foulkes spat out angrily.

“I beg to differ,” Severus said, pleased by the man’s anger. This will be easier than I thought. “Besides I happen to know that you are associated with some of my ex-associates. However, if you will not tell me what you know, you will face the Dementors of Azkaban. I hear that they are quite loving this time of year.”

Foulkes’ eyes widened in fear. “I ain’t done nothin’,” he repeated without the same fierceness as before.

Severus pulled a small, clear phial from his pocket. “This says you have,” he said smoothly, rolling the tiny bottle of clear liquid in his fingers. “It would go easier if you simply tell me what I want to know.” He set the phial on the table, staring at the man’s eyes.

He slipped into his mind easily enough. Frantic images of faces and dark places flashed incoherently: the rough hewn stone doorway leading into a dimly lit room with exposed beams, crude furniture, and plaster-coated walls, Rabastan Lestrange, MacTavish, and Torrington sitting around a small campfire talking softly; Mulciber and Rosier eating what appeared like goose legs; Dragen talking quietly to Rosenthall several feet away… Rabastan and Rosenthall stopping their conversation and turning to look at him – Foulkes – and obviously changing the subject of their conversation… Mulciber and Foulkes in an alley in an industrial town…

“You can’t force that on me, I got rights!” Foulkes shouted.

“Who is to know, it’s only a few drops, enough to get you to spill your darkest secrets to me and then some,” Severus said in a dangerously low tone. “What association do you have with Gibbon?”

“We is friends,” Foulkes replied, still eyeing the phial.

Images of a sitting room of a small house across from Gibbon flashed in the wizard’s mind, then having drinks with Gibbon and Mulciber in a seedy tavern, eating soup with Gibbon in a pub, walking along the shops in Knockturn Alley and meeting Gibbon in a wooded area…

“And why would he be friends with the likes of you?” Severus asked, trying to draw more images. He saw a meeting with Mulciber, Dragen, and Broadmore taking place; the same rough hewn doorway, this time from the inside looking out, but the view was blocked by Dragen, Lestrange and McTavish… there was another memory of the same sitting room as before, this time with the back of a man that changed quickly.

Ashton Foulkes’ hands clenched into fists as he glared at Severus. “We is friends for a long time, he and me.”

“Fine then,” Severus said casually, feigning disinterest. “Then tell me about Clemet King.”

Anger flared in Foulkes eyes, and the images in his mind became a turmoil. The ash-brown-haired wizard with the long, pallid face, heavy eyebrows, and thin frame Severus knew as Clemet came into focus and Severus smirked, pushing deeper. Flashes of Ludwick Graven in the Knockturn Apothecary; Ludwick Graven in a kitchen with Clemet and a new wizard with ash-blond hair, a hooked nose and dark blue eyes appeared several times; this new wizard appeared several times with Miss Priswell as well. This new wizard with the ash-blond hair was stockier than Clemet but was obviously acquainted with Foulkes, although not in a friendly way – the man seemed stiff and aloof as if uncomfortable with Foulkes. Several quick images showed this wizard opening the door for Miss Priswell, touching her in a solicitous manner, another resting his hand on her back in a possessive manner.

Foulkes growled in frustration, making Severus momentarily lose his connection. The knuckles of Foulkes’ fists turned white as his arms strained against the chains holding him. “I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’! I’s got’s righ’s! You canno’ ask me nothin’. You is naugh’ an Auror.”

“But you introduced me to him, remember, back a few years ago when I was teaching,” Severus said coolly. Immediately Ludwick Graven appeared in Foulkes’ mind.

“I did nothin’ of the sor’ ever,” Foulkes snarled. “I asked you if you wanted to go in with me on makin’ some money and you ambushed me.”

“By insinuating that I had a grandfather we could extort,” Severus said, sitting up and glaring at the man.

“I never said no such thin’! You is settin’ me up for somethin’, an’ I wan’ yeh ou’ o’ here now!” Foulkes yelled at him, bloody spittle falling on his chin and the table.

As he ranted, demanding for Severus to leave, he forced his way through Foulkes memories, knowing that the invasion would not be noticed due to the man’s anger. Images of Graven and Gibbon, or Clemet and Graven flashed quickly with images of the third wizard and Clemet, meeting in various places moved though Foulkes’ mind as if Severus were watching a slide show. It became quickly apparent to Severus that Graven, Clemet and the third wizard were in league together, and Foulkes’ association with Gibbon was generally associated with Dolohov’s group. Clemet and Foulkes were obtaining the potions for Miss Priswell and the third wizard. But who this third man was eluded him.

“I wanna see my solicitor!” Foulkes shouted struggling against his chains. “You leave. Now. I ain’t talkin’ to yeh no more!”

“That’s fine by me,” Severus said, snatching his phial off the table and rising elegantly. “I got all I needed from you anyway.”

Foulkes was so furious, struggling against the chains that bound him he didn’t even seem to register what Severus had said.

Kingsley was leaning against the wall by the door to Gibbon’s room. “Find out anything?”

“Enough,” Severus replied. “He doesn’t know very much, actually. I don’t think he’s in Dolohov’s inner circle, more like they use him for their dirtier jobs and errands to Knockturn Alley.”

Kingsley looked at Foulkes, still fighting against his bonds. “He really became agitated?” He looked Severus in the eye. “Are you sure he doesn’t know much? You were in there a long time.”

“I’m guessing that Dolohov is holding up in an old stone house or a thatched house. The view was blocked, but in a Pensieve we’ll get a better view of the landscape. He’s confirmed that Rosier, Torrington, Mulciber, and MacTavish are all in league with the Dolohov cousins, as well as Rabastan Lestrange and Rosenthall. I think it’s safe to assume Ludwick Graven is, too,” Severus said, smirking, pleased by Kingsley’s hopeful expression. “I also saw the tavern Gibbon frequents and a pub, both of which might be advantageous stakeouts.”

“Good. And we know Avery and Bulstrode are,” Kingsley said, clearly pleased with the possible leads. “Shall we go in and visit with Gibbon and see what he knows?”

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see me,” Severus replied with a smirk.

Severus left the Ministry for the Manor, feeling exhausted, as only an hour of Legilimency and two of Pensieve use can do to a man. Kingsley had patiently stood back and allowed Severus to review his memories taken from Aston Foulkes’ mind until Severus was certain that he was only confusing himself. He truly wished that the Pensieve replay could be frozen, rewound, or slowed down so he could really examine the quick succession of images. He was missing something and couldn’t put his finger on it.

Ashton Foulkes was a thug, a pawn of Ludwick Graven’s and Clemet’s. The third wizard definitely had a personal relationship with Miss Priswell and a close connection to Clemet. But this third wizard was unknown to him. What Severus wanted now was a quill that could draw what he wanted; to sketch an image from his mind onto parchment, but no such quill existed.

He took a long hot shower, using the relaxing heat to try and sort out his thoughts, then gave up. He changed into presentable robes, dried his hair and took some Headache-Relief and Pepper-Up Potions. He gave Lucius a cursory greeting as he passed him on his way down the stairs.

“Leaving are we? Our guests arrive any minute,” Lucius said, stopping to watch Severus descend the stairs.

Severus stopped and turned to face him. “I intend to go retrieve my wife.”

“If you feel you must. Surely she would not renege at this late hour? I’ve been told that even Muggles have some sense of common courtesy,” Lucius said with a grin. “I have adjusted the wards on the gate, unless you wish to Apparate with her to the terrace.”

“Thank you,” Severus said simply and walked through the house to the terrace. Narcissa was personally directing the seating arrangement and checking the place settings as he passed the dining room. He laughed; the idea of Potter and his friends knowing which fork to use in formal dining was ludicrous to him.

He arrived at Grimmauld Place and raised his hand to knock, only to find himself staring at a huge sunflower on a bun of blonde hair and bright, yellow dress robes.

Luna Longbottom turned, smiled at him and stepped aside. “Come in quick, Headmaster, the wrackspurts are swarming by the street lamp.”

Severus frowned at her but entered quickly. She had been an astounding student when she hadn’t tried to experiment in his classroom, easily getting Outstandings in most of her subjects, although he’d had no idea how. Her essays had always been amusing, well written, but hilarious. Not that he’d ever tell her that. ‘Thank you, Mrs. Longbottom,” he said. “I came to escort everyone to the Manor.”

She simply watched him for a while as though he were a mildly interesting creature. “I hope they plan on having pudding,” she said, then skipped off through the doorway.

Severus followed her into the drawing room, unsure if he should and was pleased to find all seven of them there, all dressed appropriately, even Ronald Weasley. When Hermione turned to face him, he nearly felt his heart stop. She was in a long, dark red dress that shimmered with lighter red highlights when she moved, and her hair was up in a mass of tight curls. “If you are ready, we should go,” he said, glad that his voice sounded smooth in his ears.

Hermione walked over and tucked a red carnation in his lapel. “Marking what’s mine,” she said when he scowled at the flower.

“Yours?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“So you keep telling me.” She picked up a wrap off a chair. “I expect you to address my friends by their names. You do remember their names, don’t you?”

“Naturally,” he said curtly at her impertinence. He looked at each one, purposefully thinking of them by their given names. Neville helped Luna with a stole, as Ginevra, also in bright crimson, looped her arm with Harry’s. Ronald was conversing with Dean by the fire. He couldn’t help noticing that each wore a red flower, the girls in their hair, the guys on their lapels, the exception being Luna’s sunflower, and the guys all wore red ties. “You couldn’t have given me a green one?” he asked Hermione as he took her arm in the crook of his.

“Nope,” she said with a smirk.

He tried to offer directions for Apparating. “Excuse me Professor, but we’ve all been there before,” Dean said politely. “Of course, these are better circumstances.”

Severus nodded. “I’ll see you at the gate, then.” He turned taking Hermione with him, landing just to the side of the gate to give the others room. As the cracks and pops announced the others, he tried to change his carnation green, only managing to do half, the red remaining on the edges of each petal.

Hermione giggled. “Couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”

“At least I didn’t turn it black,” he replied. “You lot are certainly coordinated.”

“Unity in the face of thine enemies,” she whispered as the gate opened to admit them.

“Hardly enemies, Hermione,” Severus said softly, watching Ginevra and Harry enter followed by Neville and Luna.

Hermione’s grip tightened on his arm as she followed him through the gate and gazed at the huge manor. “And until only a month ago, not friends either.”

“Three and a half months to be precise,” he corrected her. “They have accepted you since our consummation.” Her footing faltered on the path before the stairs to the terrace, and he paused to make sure she was all right. “You are wrong about them, you know. You are a guest and, as such, will be welcomed warmly. Narcissa has gone all out on your behalf tonight.”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“I hope you know how to conduct yourself in a formal dining situation,” he said with a smirk.

Harry stopped and turned, and Ron paled in the dim light.

“Of course I know how to conduct myself in a formal situation. Just because my parents were Muggles didn’t mean that we didn’t attend formal functions,” Hermione stated, affronted by his suggestion that she might not.

“Harry, I know it well, and you can follow me,” Neville stated, touching his elbow. “Luna has been coached by Gran, so between us you’ll be fine.”

Ginevra smiled and hugged Harry’s arm to her. “You knew it would be formal, right?” Harry just stared at her and shrugged. “Just do whatever Draco, Luna, Neville, and Hermione do and we’ll be fine. Besides, they know our backgrounds and invited us anyway.”

Severus smirked. This is going to be entertaining.

In an attempt to down play house affiliations, Lucius had dressed in pale blue silk and black, and Narcissa in a matching gown of blue silk and aquamarine gems. He scowled briefly as Draco appeared in dark green dress robes with a touch of white from his shirt at the collar and cuffs. At least Astoria was resplendent in a coppery-colored dress and amber bead jewelry. When Severus led in the guests to the drawing room, he had to choke back a laugh. So much for house ambiguity.

Mrs. Potter and Hermione were both in lovely red gowns with red carnations in their upswept hairdos, Mrs. Longbottom in vivid yellow with an actual sunflower adorning her hair. Mr. Potter wore a red tie and sported a carnation on his lapel of his dark, bottle green dress robes, while Mr. Weasley and Mr. Thomas both wore black dress robes with red ties and red carnations. Mr. Longbottom was quite dignified in his dark, royal blue robes, but his carnation was nearly the size of his wife’s sunflower, and he too wore a red tie. The most amusing one was, however, Severus, who now sported a carnation as well, something he did not have when leaving the house. The flower was light green with red tips, a definite alluding to his and Hermione’s house. Most amusing.

Severus’ eyes flicked from Lucius’ gaze, to his carnation and to Hermione, then back to him, a clear signal that he’d fallen into one of the marriage traps all men must learn to deal with – a wife’s whim. Lucius unnecessarily fixed the crease of his own lapel as he winked subtly at Severus, smiling at his twitch of his lip in annoyance. Oh, yes, the carnation was her idea, but if I am to guess, it was originally red and large like the others.

“The Gryffindors showing off their defiant unity,” Draco whispered to Astoria.

“Oh, Draco,” Astoria laughed softly as she patted his arm. “I should have placed one of your roses in my hair. I feel incomplete,” she whispered back, before stepping forward to greet the arrivals.

Lucius stepped forward and extended his hand first to Mr. Weasley, then to Mr. Longbottom, and kissed Mrs. Longbottom’s hand in greeting. Narcissa, ever the hostess, was handing the girls’ wraps to a waiting house-elf as she greeted them. Soon everyone was holding a glass of fine, French, elf-made wine and talking amiably enough. Ronald, Harry, and Ginevra were conversing with Draco and Narcissa about Quidditch. Astoria, Mrs. Longbottom, Hermione, and Severus were conversing about some inane African creature, and he was faced with Dean, discussing the international Galleon share exchange. As Narcissa drifted from one group to another, Lucius smiled at his wife’s ability to blend into any conversation, even one about a nonexistent creature.

A house-elf entered the doorway, bowed, announced that dinner was ready and popped out quickly.

Lucius was impressed that Neville and Luna Longbottom observed proper decorum regarding the seating arrangements and sat across from each other at Narcissa’s left and right. It amused him that Harry and Ginevra Potter disregarded custom, or were ignorant of it, and sat between Neville and Draco on one side, while Ronald and Dean sat between Luna and Astoria on the other. He was pleased that Severus and Hermione chose to sit on either side of him at the head of the table. At least I’ll have intelligent conversation over dinner.

The soup arrived as soon as everyone was seated, a delicious pumpkin flower soup with pea soup added on top in the shape of a flower with dollops of cream on the edge. Hermione laid her napkin on her lap as Ronald, Dean, and Harry watched Neville dramatically lay his napkin on his lap and pick up his soup spoon as if coaching them. Dean and Harry copied him, even mimicking how Neville scooped up his soup and ate it. Ginerva, he noted, was eyeing Draco carefully, following his son’s example.

“Oh, my! This is incredible,” Ginny gasped after her first taste.

Narcissa smiled. “I’m so glad you think so. It’s an old family recipe.”

Harry looked up and asked, “A Black family recipe or a Malfoy one?”

“A Black family recipe,” Narcissa said. “If you’d like the recipe I’ll share it with you.”

“So, Hermione, are you looking forward to your last year at school?” Lucius asked.

Hermione looked up and quickly swallowed. “Yes, I am.”

Lucius ignored the twitch of Severus’ lip as he pressed her regarding her class schedule and club activities. The girl was a pleasant conversationalist when she wanted to be. The conversation however, turned to the renovations of the castle, and the new animal paddocks for the Care of Magical Creatures lessons.

“It’s like a small zoo, but Hagrid maintains it well,” Severus stated.

Astoria’s eyes lit up as she turned to Severus. “Hogwarts has a zoo?”

Dean and Draco turned to listen as Severus explained the new animal shelter built at the edge of the forest. “The Edentaggart Magical Creatures Zoo has agreed on an animal exchange for the students, although Hagrid does maintain several of the creatures in the paddock for his own amusement.”

“Not dangerous animals?” Astoria asked, covering her mouth with her fingers.

Severus smirked. “If you define dangerous in Hagrid’s terms, the answer would be yes, naturally. There are some of the more common creatures one is likely to come across if you enjoy activities in our national parks and forests.”

“I’m sure that the creatures would not be maintained on the school grounds if Severus’ spells and Hagrid’s abilities could not contain them,” Hermione said as she dabbed at the corner of her mouth. She placed her napkin on her lap when the salad course was served, and quickly glanced at her friends.

“I’m sure that Severus and the professors have all made magical contributions to ensure the students safety,” Lucius stated, smiling at his soon to be daughter-in-law.

Lucius grinned as Neville picked up the salad fork, holding it in his hand to show Luna. Luna and Dean both smiled and copied his unspoken directions. But Harry was still fingering his three forks, until Neville nudged him and told him which one to use. The exchange was entertaining to watch. The salad consisted of baby greens rolled up in thin cucumber slices and the croutons were little wonton-like pastries, looking very pretty with dried cranberries and thinly sliced cherry tomatoes on the side arranged like little flowers.

Hermione and Ginny both deftly cut their salad, their actions copied by the boys, except Ronald, who picked up the salad in his hand. "What's this?" he asked as he unwrapped it and picked out a purple leaf.

Astoria turned to answer him.

“So how did you like Reginald Reynolds, your new Potions professor?” Lucius asked, passing Hermione the dressing.

“Hermione and he didn’t converse much,” Severus stated when she shrugged, her mouth full.

Down the table, Dean was following Neville's and Luna's lead, but Harry was still picking at his salad. It was amusing to watch him separate the baby greens by color. Across the table, Ron was still playing with the cucumber.

Hermione leaned around Astoria to speak to Dean. “Dean, tell Ron to cut it up and add the dressing. Use the fork next to his napkin – that’s supposed to be on his lap,” she said softly.

Ronald leaned forward and asked, “Why should I put the fork on my lap?” apparently confused.

“The napkin, Ronald,” Ginny admonished him quietly.

Draco snickered, then jumped slightly, apparently from Astoria having nudged him under the table with her toe to stop. “So, I understand that you’re in the Auror training program, Harry. May I call you Harry?” she asked politely.

“Yeah, Ron and I are Auror trainees now,” Harry replied.

“Both Harry and Ron are in an accelerated training schedule,” Severus said to Astoria. “Since the Aurors are so short-handed, the trainees are getting far more field experience than is normal for the training program.”

“Must be exciting, chasing after Dark wizards,” Lucius said, and tuned to look at Harry. “But with your experience, it must come rather naturally to you, Harry.” He smiled benignly, seeing that his innuendo made Hermione bristle slightly.

However, Harry wasn’t at all perturbed. “It’s exciting. We are learning loads of new techniques for following and capturing Dark wizards and witches.”

Severus cleared his throat and told Lucius about the latest raid, while Hermione listened with rapt attention as she sipped her wine.

Lucius was quite please by Hermione’s reaction to the fine red wine he’d selected to be served at dinner. “So, Gibbon is captured,” he stated. “Did he lead you to Avery and Bulstrode?”

Severus shook his head. “Only in the fact that we know that they have managed to elude capture so far. Gibbon was not aware of their hiding place. The one he knows is in a cave, but he Apparates inside it so we still don’t know its location.”

“Pity,” Lucius said, catching Hermione’s confusion at his declaration. “Wallace Avery and Gene Bulstrode were quite furious over my betrayal at the end of the war. They greatly resented my house arrest and that I couldn’t extend them monies.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow at the statement. “They tried to extort money from you?”

Lucius smiled as he set his wine goblet down. “Naturally. However, there was little they could say that I hadn’t already been accused of through the Ministry, and what they claim to know, they have no proof, other than their word.”

“And Lucius has been quite cooperative with the Ministry since his arrest,” Severus added with a smirk. “Even his vast collection of Dark Arts books was made available for the Aurors and Unspeakables to study.”

“I bet,” Hermione said against the lip of her glass before drinking.

Lucius liked her spunk, even if it was at his expense. “As I’ve been accused of – money has its privileges. It might be of surprise to you, Hermione, that I contribute a fifth or more of the scholarships to Hogwarts every year – paid outright, every year, as well as a substantial monthly endowment to St. Mungo’s. Neither of which hold any stipulation as to who may benefit. I also support the Brotherhood of Goblins, the Dark Force Defense League, Society of the Reformation of Hags, the Squib Education and Relocation fund for those choosing to leave wizarding society for Muggle life, and the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers.”

“I hadn’t known,” she replied as the house-elves exchanged the salad plates for the main course. The tenderloin beef was served on pesto mashed potatoes with grilled veggies on the side and a pomegranate port wine reduction sauce.

“Mr. Malfoy is really quite a generous philanthropist,” Astoria commented, smiling at Lucius. “He told me that to those who much has been is given, much is expected.”

“And from the ones who have been entrusted with much, much more will be asked,” Lucius added with a smile. It made him smirk to watch Ronald pick up the vegetable string garnish off his beef to examine it closer.

“Luke 12:48,” Hermione said, drawing his attention back to her.

“You know your Bible, then,” Lucius said with a smirk.

“I’ve been to church,” Hermione admitted demurely and turned to Astoria to ask about her plans for the future.

As the conversation at his end of the table turned from Astoria’s desire for a lady’s shop and Narcissa’s encouraging her to be active with the Witch's Commission for Refugee Women and Children and The Amelia Bones Witch’s League for Peace and Freedom, to matters of international news, Lucius glanced up at Narcissa. She was wearing a gracious smile as once again, Ronald, Harry, and Dean were discussing Quidditch.

At the end of dinner, Narcissa stood and announced that desserts would be served in the drawing room. Lucius stood and assisted Hermione with her chair, pleased to note that Dean did the same courtesy for Astoria.

The guests all mingled around the table of small pastries as Lucius surveyed the scene. Ronald and Harry struggled with how they were supposed to eat their desserts while holding their goblets of dessert wine in one hand and their dessert plates on the other. The girls all sat together talking, while Severus spoke with Draco, still keeping an eye on his Bonded mate.

Lucius stood beside the mantel, watching his guests. For the most part Hermione had managed quite well throughout dinner. A bit rough around the edges, but if she allowed Narcissa to coach her, she’d fit in quite well in proper wizarding society. Even Ginevra and Luna were acceptable, and Harry really tried to emulate Neville and Draco as much as he could. His celebrity status will always grant him allowances, though. Only Ronald seemed utterly lost. Too bad they’d stopped teaching etiquette at Hogwarts.

Hermione’s feet ached as she watched her friends all make their goodbyes to their hosts. All in all, dinner had not been that bad. Aside from a few veiled insults, some only thinly, Mr. Malfoy had been an amiable dinner host. Severus walked with Hermione and her friends to the terrace and wrapped his arms around her as each of her friends Disapparated for their homes.

“Stay with me a while,” he asked against her ear, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

“Severus, I’m exhausted,” she replied, leaning back against him for support, shifting her feet to ease the pain.

He drew his wand and flicked his wrist as he murmured, “Accommodare,” which made her shoes pleasantly comfortable and eased the ache in her feet. “Is that better?”

“Some, thank you,” she admitted, awed by his thoughtfulness.

“At least walk with me through the garden to the gate,” he insisted, moving around so he faced her. He tipped her face up and kissed her gently, barely a whisper on her lips. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all night,” he said softly and kissed her more ardently. Hermione swooned, grabbing onto him to keep her balance. Why in all Hades can this man make me light-headed just from a kiss? Neither Viktor nor Ron ever did. Why him of all people? His arms tightened around her and Hermione leaned into him, her treacherous body responding while her mind was crying for her to resist.

When she opened her mouth to protest, he deepened the kiss, making her thoughts melt to a mindless haze. The only thing registering was the strength of his embrace, the feel of his lips, the gentle probing of his tongue and his fingers stroking her hair. When he finally released her, she stumbled, grasping for his arms, and noticed that her hair was now tumbling down her back. He tucked her carnation into his pocket, pulled her to him again, holding her tightly, until she relaxed and let go. The cry of a peacock made her turn her head, and his arms dropped to his sides.

Taking her hand, he wordlessly led her down the stairs into the garden. They walked in silence, her mind a drift, taking in the geometric shapes of the boxwoods and hawthorn, the flowering roses, night jasmine, and rosemary topiaries. She removed her shoes on the soft grass when they turned for the gate, feeling the damp blades between her toes.

Severus led her to a bench and drew her to sit on his lap. He slid one hand into her hair and kissed her chin, neck, then her lips. The aromatic night jasmine and rosemary from the plants nearby mingled with his cologne, filling her senses. She tipped his face up and pushed his hair back, staring at his dark eyes, surprised by the lust she saw in them. She kissed him, controlling the pressure, surprised again when the heady feeling returned. With a throaty moan, she gave into the feeling and kissed him more passionately, her head spinning as he responded in kind.

The cry of a peacock broke the silence again, and Severus took advantage of her distraction to reposition her slightly so as to trail kisses slowly down her neck to the curve of her shoulder and down to the small swell of her breast over the neckline of her dress. Hermione’s head rolled back, allowing him total access, losing herself in the feelings he gave her. One hand cupped a breast, his fingers gently kneading and caressing.

She sat up, placed her hand on his face to make him look up and kissed him, wanting to make him as heady as he was making her.

A white peacock walked by, fluffed his feathers, checking the grass near the couple as he searched for worms. Disgruntled, he moved on, crying out into the night.

The pair on the bench hardly noticed.

~ T B C ~>

Author’s notes:

I know, I know… but I had to stop somewhere. You know that he’s not dead, right? Otherwise the story would just end here, and this isn’t the ending I have planned.

I want to thank my betas, EverMystique and DutchessOfArcadia, for giving this a read and helping me clean up all my mistakes. I really appreciate it very much.

Thank you also to Jay for my beautiful banner. I really love it!