A Magical New Year’s

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o 54 o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Magical New Year's

Severus awoke with Hermione curled up by his side, making his arm, which had become trapped beneath her, numb. The thick navy duvet and matching quilt partially covered her face, leaving only her curly brown hair splayed over his shoulder and tickling his nose. He kicked off the covers and pulled his arm out from its entrapment as he rolled up onto his side and pushed the waking witch onto her back.

"Morning," he said and captured her mouth before she could respond, pull away from him or protest. He'd discovered during these last few days that, while Hermione was usually eager for his attentions in the evenings, she seldom allowed his early morning advances, wanting to rush from the bed to brush her teeth as soon as she'd waken, even though the mouthwash he'd provided her lasted for a full twelve hours for each use. It really amused him that she felt the need to brush and floss her teeth five times a day, the good little dentists' daughter that she was.

He trailed kisses along her neck and down to her collarbone, his fingers stroking her skin, paying heed to those particular spots that made her inhale or moan deliciously and her body involuntarily react and arch into his touch. He loved eliciting those sounds from her, coaxing her body to respond to his touch, making her mind close down so that she was simply focused on the pleasure he brought her. It was utterly intoxicating.

She raked her fingers up his back, gasping as two of his fingers entered her. Her eyes were dark with lust, staring back at him expressively, and her mouth was open and inviting, her breathing hard enough to make her chest heave. He stroked the soft warm flesh of her vagina until he thought he felt a difference of texture, and then tapped...

Her eyes widened in shock. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed.

Smiling smugly, he kissed her while tapping her inside again. Her head fell back, her body arched off the bed, and she dug her nails into his back from the sensations he knew were shooting through her, if he was judging her reactions correctly. He laughed softly against her breast and repeated his tapping, pleased by her reaction. He felt her shudder, a convulsive spasm, and knew he was doing it right.

Gasping, she cried out his name, "Severusss," as her body stiffened.

"Ohmygods, what was that?!" she exclaimed.

"Haven't you ever come this way?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," she replied as he taped again.

Grinning as her body convulsed again, he replied with a simple, "Humm," and moved down to her core. Her fingers delved into his hair, stroking his scalp in a way he truly loved. He loved knowing that he'd rendered her nearly speechless, gasping and moaning uncontrollably. It was such a heady feeling. He licked her, from his fingers thrust deep in between her folds up to her clitoris, which quickly engorged under the manipulations of his tongue. "Nice," he said, taking the swollen nub into his mouth, making Hermione's hips buck up into his face. He pinned her down with a growl, making her struggle beneath him.

She propped herself up on her elbows to watch, then fell back on the bed, gasping, "Oh-god, no more... oh-god, no more," over and over, the soft walls around his fingers tightened and clenched as he stroked her moist canal roughly. She began to thrash about, beating the covers with one hand while clasping his head with her other as if to push him tighter against her clit. Not that her struggles were going to stop him from his purpose.

Her orgasm was a deep one, as far as he could tell, based upon her thrashing shudder, a convulsive shiver, the mewling pleas and gasping of his name. Gods, she was magnificent in the throes of passion and so expressive.

He rose up quickly, pulled her to him and entered her with a hard thrust of his hips. She gasped, still reeling from her orgasm as he pumped and thrust into her. "Gods, you're so fucking tight," he growled the obvious, well obvious to him as it was the only coherent thought he had at the moment, how utterly incredible it felt to be inside her.

"You feel good," she grunted as she met him thrust for thrust. "Oh, fuck. Harder. Please, harder."

Encouraged, he hardly needed to be asked twice, spurred on by her pleas. He grunted in response, complying with her request, and he heard her moan in satisfaction. He plunged in and out of her with full force, his own orgasm building as his gonads contracted tighter, and he felt the ejaculation coming in pleasurable spasms as it rushed upward and outward. He thrust himself as deeply into her as he could with each pulsing squirt. Her inner walls contracted and relaxed with each of his strokes as he spilled his seed into her, mixing with her wet juices. He held her tightly to him, locked together as his own body relaxed slightly, feeling the heady state of satiation and satisfaction.

Hermione mewled as her inner walls clenched down on his softening member as if to hold him in as he pulled back, mewling, "No, don't. Stay in," in protest for him to stay inside her.

"I can't," he said as he withdrew his semi rigid cock, the sensation somewhat painful. He lay down next to her as his racing heart and ragged breathing slowed down to a normal rhythm.

Hermione rolled over so that her chin rested on his chest and looked up at him cheerfully. "Morning," she said, grinning.

Severus bent his right arm and buried his fingers into her hair, loving the dampness in her soft curls. "I believe I already said that."

She rose up, her small hand pressing down on his body as she did, and she kissed his chin. He lifted his head, giving her a quick kiss and then lying back down, his left hand on hers where it still rested on him, the other stroking her hair. She was wide awake now, obviously, smiling much too eagerly, and he needed to recuperate. He reached up to adjust the pillow behind his head.

"So what are we doing today?" she asked, resting her chin on her hand on his chest.

"Traditionally, the social elite tend to their philanthropies today," he said, his pulse finally slowing to normal. "If you want, we can peruse the library after breakfast."

"Yes, I want to," she replied, scrambling quickly from the bed. He laughed at her enthusiasm as she scurried to the bathroom, giving him a lovely view of her backside.

~H~

Hermione had hoped that she and Severus would have retired to his – their home after Boxing Day as he'd promised. But instead, he'd disappeared on some errand with Mr. Malfoy, leaving her with Astoria and Larissa Nott for company, watching the boys play Quidditch. Well Hermione was sitting in the stands with the other two girls, but her mind was on something else entirely.

She'd overheard Severus telling Mr. Malfoy after breakfast that morning that Kingsley and Hayward Blume were interested in knowing where Walsingham was while the women gathered to discuss going to see Narcissa's greenhouses. Mr. Malfoy had replied that if they found Moellers and Struthers at a Madam Margolyes... but Severus had cut him off midsentence to ask Hermione what she needed. Of course she hadn't needed anything; she'd wanted to know when they'd be leaving for home.

Hayward Blume, isn't he Harry and Ron's training instructor? And he's interested in Walsingham. She wracked her brains. The name was familiar... she knew his face... she could visualize the man's deep-set eyes and barred teeth behind the moustache and beard... but where would she have met the wizard? She sat up, remembering where she'd seen the face as Kazimir flew by with the Quaffle, followed by Draco and Goyle. The posters in Diagon Alley! The man was suspected of being a Death Eater. But the other three names, Moellers, Struthers and Madam Margolyes, didn't mean anything to her.

Hermione was wondering what Severus and Mr. Malfoy were up to. She thought back to the brief conversation that morning. When she'd asked who Madam Margolyes was, Severus had said cryptically, "Madam Margolyes is of no import; Lucius and I are going to see Norman and Bernise Wrentall regarding Katie and Emily Leffertz. You should join the ladies for a tour of Narcissa's greenhouses. I'll be back around noon or so."

"Kasimir scored," Astoria said happily, drawing Hermione back to the game as Larissa clapped politely. Konrad tossed the Quaffle to Bartholommeo, who handed it off to Draco, which made Astoria happy, and the players shot off for the opposing goal hoops, Golye and Bartholommeo blocking Kazimir and Viktor to give Draco a straight run.

Naturally, the morning with the ladies was enjoyable enough, but two hours in the greenhouses, talking about Narcissa's flowers, hadn't really been all that exciting for Hermione, especially as she'd been so worried about Severus. Yes, the huge Victorian glass botanical greenhouses and the five octagonal conservatories, each one supporting different climate zones, were quite impressive and very beautiful in proportion and overall grace. But the large collection of aromatic flowers and plants had been a little overwhelming for Hermione.

All Hermione cared about was where Severus was. He and Mr. Malfoy had missed lunch. When Hermione asked Narcissa, she'd said they were conducting business and would be back later. Hermione was worried that Severus was off on another Death Eater hunt, and he could be if Moellers, Struthers and Madam Margolyes had any connection with Walsingham. Surely whatever business he had with Norman and Bernise Wrentall wouldn't have taken all day. Wrentall. Why is the name Wrentall familiar? She wondered if they were associated with Voldemort in any capacity.

Hermione sighed in frustration. Too many questions, no answers, and she was stuck sitting in the Quidditch stands, watching four Slytherins fly with the famous Quidditch players. She wished Harry and Ron were here, because then she could ask them.

Hermione knew Katie and Emily Leffertz, but only vaguely; Katie was first-year Slytherin who Hagrid had caught trying to sneak into the Forbidden Forest a few times to find the unicorns, and Emily was a seventh-year Ravenclaw who occasionally teased, or tried to tease, Luna from time to time. Luna's serene disposition and strong sense of self meant that she tended to simply shrug off taunting with a whimsical off-handed reply about an infestation of Whormboles for which she wore a talisman repellant... her butterbeer cork which was coated in Dragon's Blood resin and Solomon's Seal.

Her attention was brought back to the game as Astoria cheered happily. Seeing Draco fly by with Viktor hot on his broomstick made her miss Harry, Ginny and Ron even more. They'd have really loved being on the pitch with the famous international players, even if they also had to play with Draco, Theodore, Blaise and Goyle. She wondered if Draco would let Harry play Seeker and Ron play Keeper.

"What is it, Hermione?" Astoria asked after a while.

"Nothing really, I was just thinking..." She smiled, hoping it was convincing. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." She watched Viktor snatch the Quaffle from Draco and make an impossibly sharp turn on his broom. "I was thinking about my friends."

"Oh, right, Harry and Ronald," Astoria said, smiling. "They both played for Gryffindor, didn't they?"

Hermione nodded. "They are both enthusiasts; Harry was the Seeker, and Ron played Keeper," she said proudly. "Ginny, too; she played Chaser and filled in as Seeker once."

"Oh, that's right; you're friends with Harry Potter!" Larissa said with a feigned casual air and a huge grin. "It's too bad he was not invited to come play. Imagine, Harry Potter flying Seeker against Viktor Krum – now, that would be fun to watch."

"Isn't Harry on friendly terms with Viktor? I saw them talking together at the party," Astoria said, watching as Viktor swooped by on his broom, followed by Draco and Theodore. Viktor passed the Quaffle to Kazimir. Konrad matched Kasimir's maneuvering as he went for the goal, left, up, right, left, down....

"I heard you dated Viktor Krum," Larissa said. "But then you like the dark-haired famous types, don't you?"

Hermione turned to look at the girl, and Larissa shrugged. "First Viktor Krum, then Harry Potter and now the Headmaster," the brunette stated.

"Harry and I are friends," Hermione stated, turning her attention back on the game as Konrad blocked the Quaffle. "We never dated – that was a lie thought up by Rita Skeeter to sell newspapers."

"Viktor looks a little like Professor Snape, doesn't he?" Astoria asked as Viktor flew close by the stands. "Same nose and hair, and that intensity in their stare..."

Hermione grimaced at the comparison. Yes, they had the same eye and hair color and both men had somewhat similar noses, but honestly, there was little resemblance at all. "They really are quite different."

She looked up at the cloudy sky, wondering how long the game would go on and if Severus had come back yet. The area around the pitch was surrounded mostly by tall pines and dense oaks, so that the Muggles living in the area would not see anyone flying about on brooms. The pitch, although the length and width were standard regulation size, was not as tall as a professional pitch; the stands were only twenty meters or so, still quite high in Hermione's opinion, equaling the tops of the oaks, but well under the Scot Pines that reached well up to thirty or forty meters.

Behind where the girls sat, there was a break in the trees, revealing the slope leading up to the Manor. Hermione turned, staring at the stretch of white in the direction of the house. As if her desires conjured it, she thought she saw something up on the edge of the field. She sat motionless, staring hard at the spot, willing it to be Severus.

Moments ticked, and Astoria cried out, "Draco scored!" bouncing happily in her seat.

Up on the slope, the spot grew larger, becoming a silhouette of a man walking toward them, his robes billowing in the wind. "Severus!" Hermione jumped up and hurried from the stands.

She didn't notice Viktor coming to a stop mid pitch or hear Larissa's comment of, "She's really besotted isn't she?"

She ran out of the pitch, as the girls clapped and cheered above her, and out into the snow. Now that he was closer, she could see him clearly, his stride in the snow surefooted, his robes billowing behind him, his eyes locked on her even though the windswept strands of his hair across his face. She picked up her skirts and ran, closing the gap between them. "Tell me you're all right," she said just before flinging her arms around him.

"Why would I not be all right?" he asked as his arms came around her.

"You're tracking down Morgund Walsingham, aren't you? He is a Death Eater, isn't he?" she replied.

Severus leaned away from her and scowled, his eyes turning stony. "Morgund Walsingham is suspected of being a Death Eater. But what..." His expression morphed into the blank mask she hated. "You overheard."

"I overheard," she said, blushing, knowing she'd upset him, but she needed to know. "You even smell of smoke. Where did you go?"

His eyes narrowed. "Hermione," he said, his tone slightly harsher than before. "I told you, Lucius and I had an appointment with Norman and Bernise Wrentall."

"And that took all morning?" She tilted her head slightly as she gazed up at him, not fully believing him. "I heard Mr. Malfoy mention the names, Moellers, Struthers and Madam Margolyes, just before you cut him off. Why you didn't want me to know about them?" she asked. His expression hardened, she saw the tick in his jaw again, and she knew she was on the right track. "Are they Death Eaters, too?"

He dropped his arms and stood there, looking down at her, stiffly. "Hermione, I told you, Madam Margolyes is of no concern to you," Severus said harshly.

"And the other two, Moellers and Struthers?" Hermione persisted, wanting him to tell her, to confide in her. She laid a hand on his chest. "Are they Death Eaters? Did you go to Madam Margolyes to find them? Are they connected to Morgund Walsingham?"

His expression hardened, his eyes growing darker as his hands fell to his sides. "Hermione, this doesn't concern you."

"What do you mean, it doesn't concern me? Everything about you concerns me!" she said, almost shouting. "Stop shutting me out! I don't want you to lie to me!"

He crossed his arms, and his expression became relaxed, unreadable. "Don't you have any faith in me?" he asked, but there was a stony glint in his eyes.

"Of course I do," she said sharply. "I know you are assisting the Aurors, but I was worried. You've been gone all day."

"I am assisting the Aurors in capturing the last of the Dark Lord's followers, yes. Part of Lucius' parole is in giving them what information we know."

"I know that!" she exclaimed as she stamped her foot, her fists coming down to her sides. She was convinced that Severus was doing it out of some code of honor, but now she knew Mr. Malfoy was helping, too. "But I know of at least two times you've been hurt helping the Aurors," she said. She flung one arm up to her side. "I know that Katie and Emily Leffertz's father is on the suspect list, and that he fled the country – it was in the Daily Prophet." She watched him turn his head to look away from her, feeling her rage grow.

She saw the tick in his jaw again before he turned to look at her again. "Not here," he said, taking hold of her arm and drawing her to him.

Without any warning whatsoever, she immediately felt the suffocating squeeze of Side-Along Apparition before finding herself faltering on the path somewhere in the gardens. Hermione gasped for air and grasped at Severus to try and steady herself. For Hermione, Side-Along Apparition was bad enough when she was expecting it, but when she wasn't it left her feeling dizzy and disoriented for a few seconds.

Thankfully, he'd held onto her arms until she stood more steadily on her feet.

When her breath steadied, she looked about to see where he'd taken her. They stood on a path lined with roses, which had been trimmed and bedded with mulch for the winter, and surrounded by tall hedges.

She turned her attention and ire to Severus. "I don't remember who the Wrentalls are, but that name is familiar to me, too. I just can't place it right now, but it will come to me eventually. And I heard Mr. Malfoy telling you that if you found Moellers and Struthers at a Madam Margolyes... before you cut him off so I wouldn't hear the rest of the statement," she told him as she pointed her finger at his chest, but he was scowling at her hand. "And I want to know what is going on."

"I said, not out here where we can be overheard," he hissed. Severus pulled on her arm, making her walk with him down the path, and she had to quicken her pace to keep up. Their shoes crunched on the snow-covered gravel as they walked, and the shadows from the hedges gave her a chill. "Severus, as you've pointed out, I was usually the one who found the answers to the puzzles Harry, Ron and I were sorting out in school. Just tell me what's going on..."

"You want to know what is going on?" he repeated angrily, coming to abrupt stop at what seemed like dead end in a maze. He cast his Sound-Dampening Charm on the hedges, then focused his attention on her. "I'm running a school. My meeting was with the guardians of two of my students to verify if they were capable of paying for the girls' education and the train fare. Lucius pays for several scholarships every year and has offered to subsidize the amount if the Wrentalls were unable to."

She inhaled, the sound of the water from the small fountain helping to calm herself down. Yelling at him would get her nowhere. "And the other... Did you go to Madam Margolyes in search of Moellers and Struthers?"

He indicated that she sit on one of the three benches in the in a ring of hedges that surrounding a small fountain. She stubbornly remained standing.

"Yes, Lucius and I paid a social call on Madam Margolyes in order to see if we could gain any useful information from her. I was not in any risk at all today, although your concern is quite touching." He sat down on the nearest bench, reclining slightly with his boots firmly planted on the gravel and his arms crossed.

Hermione's eyes widened. She turned around, taking in the clearing for the first time. "This place – it's...?" His pose on the high backed stone bench... the fountain... the hedges. It was all the same, except that it had been lush and green in her dream. Now everything – the hedges, the path, the other benches, the fountain trickling away – it was all frosted as if with confectioner's sugar. "But it was a dream – it wasn't real?"

"Oh, this place is real, Hermione," he said, grasping her hand to pull her to him, "as was the dream. The dreams were the magical connection of the 'casting' phase of our Bonding. We were both here, if not actually physically."

She stood before him, shocked. "But the other places... the pergola." She looked down at him, sprawled out sexily before her. "You controlled the dreams?"

He sat up, and his hands slid up her legs, bunching her robes up as he did so. "I was able to, yes, eventually." He pulled her forward between his knees. "If you're finished being annoyed with me," he said silkily in that smooth-as-melted-chocolate voice she loved, his fingers now raking her skin at her knees. "How about sitting on my lap and recreating that particular dream with me?"

Hermione's knees threatened to give, and even though she was still quite irritated with him, her ire was fading fast with each sensual caress. She allowed him to turn her around. "Won't we be seen?"

Both hands slid up her thighs, his fingers spreading them to his touch as she leaned back against him. "And pray tell, what fool would be wandering in the snow-covered gardens in the middle of December?"

"It's the twenty-seventh," she corrected him, scooting back onto his lap as he did incredible things with his fingers. "And, anyway, we did."

"Saucy minx." He tore her knickers, his fingers delving into her, and she gasped and moaned in pleasure, undulating on his lap.

"Hermione, turn around and straddle my hips so I can kiss you," he said smoothly.

She complied, watching him as he unfastened his trousers and opened his fly to release himself. "Well, come here, woman; its bloody cold out here. I don't want it to freeze off."

She stifled a giggle as she complied, smiling as she scrambled up onto his lap. He positioned himself and entered her, pulling her tightly to him. "Oh, gods, you feel good," she groaned. Sex outside like this was a heady feeling, knowing that anyone might see them: from a window or from casually coming upon on them from the garden. She rode him in a frenzy, imagining that they were being watched. His hands remained under her robes, touching her and grasping her hips to guide her. She threw her head back, clenching her teeth, knowing that she was tightening on him with her pelvic muscles. She leaned forward, kissing him, rubbing herself on him so that his pubic hair and his trousers rubbed on her clit.

"Yes, Hermione, use me," he said, his voice thick and deep with lust.

She moved more ardently, grinding herself on him, not caring if she was acting like a harlot in heat – he felt incredible.

"That's it, fuck me."

"Severus, I – I..." She didn't know – she couldn't think of anything except for the throbbing hardness inside of her, the scratchy abrasiveness of the wool, and his hands helping her slide up and down on his penis as she rocked back and forth, up and down repeatedly, trying to keep a steady rhythm, even when her thoughts became unfocused, reeling in the sensations she was feeling. She gasped aloud, threw her head back and fought down the scream that threatened to break free.

"Come, witch, come for me," he said, his own voice harsh and strained. "Gods, Hermione, I can't hold out. Come for me," he pleaded.

She leaned back as her orgasm broke, feeling as if she might fall backwards off his lap save for his death grip on her as he thrust up into her. The waves of sensation swept through her, out and down over him where they were connected, and she thought she'd urinated on him as she leaned forward and captured his mouth again. His lips were quivering, not as normally responsive, and she pushed her tongue into his mouth to stroke his tongue with hers. As she started to come down, his tongue began to tease hers back, his kisses became stronger. Gods, but she loved kissing him.

When his penis slipped out from her, she laid her head on his shoulder in stated bliss. "Gods. Severus, will it ever be boring between us?"

"No, not if I can help it, my little minx," he said breathlessly, holding her tight.

She smiled, happily drowsy in his arms, uncaring about the cold winter around them.

~L~

Lucius walked to the library in the hopes of finding Severus; he was not out on pitch, watching Hermione's friends, Draco and his friends playing Quidditch with the four famous international players. But then neither was Hermione. So, since his friend and his Bonded mate were not out on the Quidditch pitch with all the young people, Lucius assumed he'd either be with his fiancée, brewing or reading. He opted for reading, Severus' favorite pastime when he wasn't brewing.

Cissy had been surprised that Draco had extended the invitation to the Potters and Mr. Weasley, but she could see the advantage as well as he could to his son finally making a gesture of friendship to the famous wizards. Alliances could be beneficial, and Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley were very well connected and highly regarded young men. Lucius had been following the young men's careers. It was already rumored that Harry Potter would rise high in the Aurory Department, already showing strong aptitude in leadership skills, a clever mind and a head for regulations, law decrees and diplomacy. Ronald Weasley was an equally adept trainee. So far they had both ranked very high marks in Organization and Strategy, Crime Scene Investigation, Collection and Preservation of Evidence, Magical Search and Seizure, Dark Arts Detection as well as Stealth and Tracking. Not that Lucius was at all surprised; both young men had been involved in detective activities since their first year at Hogwarts.

However, Lucius was certain that it had been Astoria who had talked Draco into inviting Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley to play Quidditch four days ago, but regardless who had initiated the idea, it was a rather nice gesture of good will on his son's part. The Potters and Mr. Weasley had returned the next day, apparently everyone having enjoyed the game, and Lucius had been pleased to see Potter and his son conversing amicably, even if the Potters had declined staying for dinner that first night. They had stayed for lunch on the second afternoon and accepted the invite to dinner the evening after that, so progression had been made. Lucius was even willing to overlook Mr. Weasleys rather boorish table manners, which had somewhat improved with Astoria's gentle guidance. But then, even some of the high-ranking people in the Ministry had interesting table manners which were usually politely overlooked.

Still, Lucius was pleased that Ronald Weasley and Ginevra Potter were beginning to get along with his family, considering the animosity that had existed between Lucius and their parents for years. Naturally, Lucius had thanked Astoria, but she'd graciously admitted that the idea had been Hermione's suggestion, although Lucius doubted it; Hermione wouldn't have been so presumptuous as to ask, and she'd been both surprised and delighted to see the two young men and Mrs. Potter come through the Floo with their brooms. Hermione was much too transparent in her feelings for the reaction to have been contrived for their benefit.

Even Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott and Gregory Goyle were making every attempt to bury their old animosity for a friendly truce with the Gryffindors.

Nevertheless, Lucius had been surprised that Hermione and Severus were not out on the pitch either playing or watching her friends; well, maybe not Severus. His tolerance for Potter had improved, but only by a certain measure, and he seemed to only be able to endure Potter in small doses. Hermione, on the other hand, was becoming quite a bit more comfortable with Lucius' family, though she preferred the company of Astoria and Fanny Gabnold or Kazimir Maschke and Konrad Vondran.

He entered the library and scanned the huge room. There, on a leather sofa against the far wall, Severus sat, book in hand, with Hermione tucked against his side also quietly reading. His friend's arm rested across the back of the sofa, his hand gently toying with the girl's hair, fully engrossed on the book he was reading. A small smile played on Hermione's face, either from the absentminded fondling of her hair or the contents of the book. It was hard to tell which book she'd selected from this distance, but it was one of the older tomes. It was such a sweet, domestic scene, one he was loath to disrupt. Of all the plush, comfortable seating in the room, the pair sought out the solitude of a secluded leather sofa to sit and read together. And Severus was concerned that their relationship wasn't as strong as he'd hoped. They looked every bit the loving couple.

Lucius eased from the room without disturbing his friend and his fiancée.

~H~

The Ballroom was full of people, but even though the room seemed full to bursting, out on the dance floor among all the couples dancing, Hermione found that there was still plenty of room to twirl and spin to the music. There were so many people that the guests mingled in the Grand Corridor, the large, opulent Red Withdrawing Room and even in the Ladies Salon. Waiters, not house-elves, in pristine white coattails, carried trays of sparkling wines, champagnes and elf-made wine. Food tables were set up in the White Drawing Room on the east side of the Grand staircase with such a selection of savories, canapé hors d'oeuvres, fruits, seafood, fowl and sweets that Hermione could barely remember even half of the delicacies served that night. Everlasting Firework Fountains that sprayed harmless, colorful sparks and crackling sparklers had been placed in every wall sconce, and miniature Chrysanthemums fireworks erupted in the vaulted ceiling, spewing harmless sparkles and confetti into the air, adding a festive flair to the festivities.

Everyone who was anyone seemed to have been invited. Even Mrs. and Mr. Weasley were here, somewhere, mingling with the other important Ministry guests, Masters and Nobel laureates of their fields and the crème of wizarding society. Mrs. Weasley had gushed like a young girl in her lovely white and Christmas red dress robes when she told Hermione about Mr. Weasley's promotion, and Mr. Weasley, in new black tuxedo dress robes with a matching cummerbund and bow tie, had danced with Hermione, telling her about some of the new changes in the Ministry: the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects had been reallocated, and his new title was Head of the Department for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit, Illicit and Dangerous Spells and Objects. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been made official Minister of Magic, just in time for the New Year. New laws protecting werewolves were being proposed, although Dolores Umbridge was trying fervently to block them.

Hermione had been thrilled that Alestra, Wendlynne and Veronica had been invited as well. The girls had all arrived together in one of the Malfoy's Rolls-Royce Phantom IVs. The last she'd seen her friends though, Alestra was dancing with her boyfriend, Thornton Bronte, and across the room, Veronica and her boyfriend, Jeremy Watson, were talking to Kazimir, Bartholommeo and the Canons ex-Beater, Derrick Molyneux.

Konrad had Hermione spin out away from him, making the light layers of her gown swirl and swish wonderfully. Hermione paused, arm extended and tilted her head with a slightly cocky smile, making him smile in return, before spinning back to him, and lightly placing her hand back on his shoulder. His arm went to her back, and he dipped her slightly, just enough to let her head tip back, but not enough to dislodge the garnet diadem Narcissa had lent her to match her garnets. Hermione opted to wear the garnets that had belonged to Severus' grandmother that Mr. Prince had given for Christmas, hoping that Narcissa wouldn't mind too much. The strapless cut of the gown set off the necklace wonderfully, and the bracelet glittered on her elbow-length white gloves. Unlike the previous affairs, when Elbee showed up to do Hermione's makeup and hair, Hermione told the elf how she wanted her hair, which had delighted Elbee.

"Miss is telling Elbee how to makes her hair happy!" the elf squeaked, clasping her hands. "Elbee can do curls like miss is wanting."

But when Hermione said she wanted to wear less makeup, to look more natural, Elbee had been utterly confused.

"Miss does not like how Elbee does her faces?" the elf asked, her ears drooping so low they touched her shoulders.

"Elbee not does makeup so that it will crack," she replied, sounding more than a little affronted. "Elbee very good at makeup applying."

The end result was a light, flawless complexion, her eyes shadowed glamorously yet tastefully to enhance her eyes, and her lips were garnet red to compliment her stones. Her hair was pulled up and back with curls cascading down her back and dancing on her shoulders. She had never felt prettier. Even Severus' appreciative smile, his smoldering look, seemed more realistic to her this evening. Each time she saw him throughout the evening, their eyes met and there was an intensity in his gaze as if she was his, undeniably his, especially if she was dancing with one of the young men at the party. More so if it was one of her friends. It thrilled her.

Hermione explained preference of the gems to Narcissa when Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy came by to escort Hermione and Severus to the Grand Corridor to greet their guests. Narcissa had smiled warmly and surprised her by saying, "No, this is quite appropriate, Hermione. They are lovely. I do have a simple diadem that would compliment these," she said, lifting a hand to admire the earrings, "if you'd permit me."

"As a débutante, and especially as this is your last ball of the season, you should wear a tiara or a diadem," Narcissa explained, lowering her arm as Elbee suddenly appeared with the diadem in hand.

Now Hermione was twirling and turning with the music, smiling happily with an energetic dance partner. She was utterly convinced that Durmstrang taught their students how to dance since all of them, Konrad, Kazimir and Viktor, were superb dancers.

The music ended, and Hermione thanked Konrad, smiling as he escorted her to the side of the dance floor. "You honor me, Her-mi-oninny," Kazimir said, holding her hand gently in his. "Mnogo blagodaria," he added as he kissed her knuckles.

"I enjoyed it very much, thank you, Konrad," Hermione replied, catching her breath.

"Blagodaria. You isvinete me, I see your Bonded fiancé come this vay." He clicked his heels. "Chestita nova godina, I vish you vell."

Severus approached, his scowl softening as he watched the Bulgarian ask another lady to dance. He looked resplendent in his black tailcoat dress robes, white pique' tie, and white double-breasted vest over his white wing-collar shirt and white gloves. He even wore garnet cufflinks and a white camellia on his lapel.

"Will you dance with me again?" she asked softly, hoping it wasn't too imprudent to dance with him as many times as she'd done tonight. She'd read that usually a married couple did not dance together in formal balls, it was considered a sign of unusual attention for a husband to dance with his wife more than once in the evening, but they could do so if he wished. Of course ladies were not supposed to ask a gentleman to dance either; they were to sit or stand passively until a gentleman came to escort them and could not even be seen to cross the dance floor unescorted – or go anywhere unescorted – even the loo or to get a cup of punch. Hermione had read Delores Kittrell's The Social Advantage - Etiquette for Witches and Manners for Wizards thoroughly, reviewing the codes of conduct expected for formal and informal events. She'd been amazed at the intricate and elaborate details, the exacting rules and expectations in regards to traditions, ethics and social mores and the hypocritical rituals of the magical social elite. It was daunting trying to remember all the fastidious proper etiquette and protocols, proper conducts of behavior and the social courtesies. And to think that Severus blended in with the social elite astounded her.

Mr. Malfoy, as well as Severus, had observed convention and had introduced Hermione to a number of dance partners throughout the entire evening, most of them older wizards, prominent in their fields or people who supported the school or held some office in the Ministry as well as influential people in society. She carefully repeated each name a few times in order to try and remember them, but as the night wore on, she was afraid she'd forgotten a few of their names.

Severus looked amused by her request, his eyes lightening up. "If you want," he said and escorted her to the dance floor. "Defying decorum, are we?" he asked as he turned to face her, taking her right in his left hand while placing his right hand on her upper back as she placed her left hand on his shoulder.

"I love dancing with you," she replied as he started the waltz. He was an amazing dancer: confident, a strong lead, and his movements were so fluid it was like floating around the dance floor. Even though she knew he was aware of everyone and everything in the room, his eyes never seemed to leave her face, and she smiled up at him, swelling with pride. Her powerful, black knight errant turned into a prince, if just for one night, and he made her feel like a princess.

The dance ended all too soon, and he led her off the floor. Harry approached with Ginny on his arm, which gave her a chance to dance with him as Severus danced with Ginny. She was pleased that Harry had improved somewhat, although she knew he was still a bit uncomfortable. "Are you having a good time?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's all right," he said, missing a step and quickly recovering. "Ginny loves all these parties."

"You're doing much better," she replied as he tried to lead her in a twirl.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "I've been practicing. Cho is teaching me to dance, and believe it or not, so has Bill and Fleur."

"Are Bill and Fleur here tonight?" she asked.

He shook his head. "He and Fleur are in France. She comes from a large family. They try to alternate holidays between her family and all of us."

She smiled. 'All of us,' meant the Weasleys, which was rather apt. She knew that Harry considered the Weasleys an extended family, something she'd always wanted with them as well, although there were times when she'd felt like an outsider. She loved them all nonetheless.

The music stopped and Harry looked relieved. "Well, hope your toes survived."

"Harry, you're a good dancer," she replied, and he gave her an incredulous smirk. "No, really, you're much better than you were at the Ministry Ball."

"Thank you," he said, blushing slightly. "But I would rather stay in the other rooms than dance, but don't tell Ginny. She loves dancing."

"I won't," she replied with a smile.

As he led her from the dance floor, Hermione watched as Astoria excused herself from an older gentleman Hermione didn't know. Astoria looked at Hermione, and she knew that the girl was trying to decline the man's continued attention politely, to no avail, but due to the codes of etiquette she couldn't just walk away. "Harry, do me a favor and dance with Astoria."

"Do I have to?" he asked, looking around. "Won't Draco mind?"

"Please, Harry. I know Draco won't mind. Walk me over to her, now," she said, taking his arm.

Harry shrugged and did as she asked, although she knew he hadn't a clue as to why he needed to do so. Astoria looked grateful at the intrusion.

"Astoria, you remember my friend, Harry Potter?" Hermione asked conversationally.

"Oh, of course. Harry, how are you this evening?" Astoria asked politely, extending her hand out to him. The elder wizard stiffened, but backed away gracefully.

"Er, fine." Harry looked confused, but he shook her hand. "Er, Hermione said I should ask you to dance."

"Harry, I'd be delighted," Astoria said with a warm smile. She gave Hermione a look that read, Thank you, then smiled at Harry again.

"I'm not very good," he said to her over the music as Kazimir, who'd been standing behind them, excused himself quickly and walked over to greet Hermione.

"Sdrasti, Her-mi-oninny! It is my turn to have you, neh?" he asked with a huge grin. He looked up and added, "Headmaster Snape," with a polite but subtle nod.

Hermione turned, not realizing he'd joined them.

"Mr. Maschke," Severus said formally, his gaze locked boldly on the younger man.

Kazimir smiled, undaunted by Severus formal demeanor. "Her-mi-oninny says I should call you Sever-rus. Please, you may call me Kazimir," he said, looking Severus directly in the eye.

Severus' eyebrow twitched ever so slightly, and he nodded, but didn't reply, and Hermione fought back the laugh at his reluctance. He looked at her, then back to her friend. "Did she? Very well."

Well, it was a start.

If Severus' coolness bothered Kazimir, he didn't let it show. "Priiatel," he said turning back to Hermione, "I get a letter. Tatiana, she is coming to London. I hope you to meet her."

Severus' hand on her lower back relaxed as she replied, "Really? When? I can't wait to meet her. Maybe the two of you can come to Hogsmeade." She turned to look at Severus. "When is our next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"February," he stated, then heaved a sigh and added, "The fourteenth – Valentine's Day," as if acceding to seeing the Bulgarian that soon. "If you're in the area, you may join us for lunch."

"Mnogo blagodaria, Sever-rus, I do look fovard to lunch vith you and Her-mi-oninny." He turned to Hermione. "May I have this dance?"

She accepted, flashing Severus a grateful smile and allowed Kazimir to lead her out onto the dance floor. Dancing with Kazimir was fun. Like Konrad and Viktor, he was a competent dancer: a strong lead but he didn't take it too seriously. He loved to twirl and spin and dip his partners, some would say too lively, but all in all, enjoyable. And Hermione had managed, once again, to keep up with him and not trip over her own feet or step on his toes. He always forwent decorum and kept her out on the floor with him for two dances, but she didn't mind.

When the second dance ended, he led her off the floor. "Thank you, priiatel," Kazimir said, and as he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, Hermione quickly gave him a quick kiss before he pulled away. Kazimir looked at her with a pleased conspiratorial smile. "Mnogo blagodaria, but your vizard, he is vatching me, neh? He still thinks I sveep you avay on my broom."

"He has been a little jealous of you, I'm afraid,' Hermione admitted.

"Ven he meets my Tatiana, he vill be jealous no more," he said emphatically. His love for Tatiana showed in his eyes whenever he said her name. "Not that I vould not take you avay," he added with a cocky grin, "but I hear the Headmaster is... how did Draco say – vicket fast and knows more curses and hexes than my professors at Durmstrang."

Hermione laughed softly. "So I've been told. He is amazing in a wand fight." She quickly added, "Not that he would."

"Oh, da, he vould. You should see how he vatches me." They both turned to see Severus approaching. Kazimir turned back to her. "I hope your fiancé is no mad at me. Chestita nova godina, Her-mi-oninny, my dear priiatel. I hope to see you next year," he said with a quick wink. "Chao."

"We shall," she said as he looked up, nodded once and walked away, just as Severus stopped beside her.

"Having a good time?" he said drolly.

"The very best," she replied, happily.

Around the room, people started counting down the seconds.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven..."

He turned to look at her, his dark eyes smoldering in the candle light and sparklers.

"Six, five, four..."

Hermione felt her breath hitch as he stared at her. Gods, she wanted him to kiss her.

"Two, one. Happy New Year!"

He pulled her to him with one arm, and his mouth met hers in a deeply demanding kiss, hardly what she'd expected, but it curled her toes and made her knees weaken as fireworks erupted in the vaulted ceiling, spewing more harmless sparkles and confetti over everyone. Her heart raced as she clung to him, and she felt a glorious sense of light headiness and giddy bliss. The cheers, fireworks and the salutes from all the other guests went completely unnoticed in the moment.

When he finally broke the kiss, she swooned in his arms, and she was grateful that he held her firmly until her knees strengthened enough to hold her weight. "Happy New Year, Hermione," he said with a contented smile.

She smiled lovingly back at him. "Happy New Year, Severus."

~ T B C ~>

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Author's notes:

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

How did you do with the Bulgarian words? Some of them are the same from chapter 52, but there are a few different ones this time.

Sdrasti means hello

Da is Yes, Neh is No

Mnogo blagodaria or Blagodaria means thank you

Priiatel is friend

Chao is goodbye

Isvinete is excuse me (as in to ask for something)

Chestita nova godina means Happy New Year

Did you guess the new ones right?

Here's my source. http://www.linguanaut.com/english_bulgarian.htm

Sorry if you know or speak Bulgarian and I got the words wrong.