Comeuppance and Surprises

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o 56 o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Comeuppance and Surprises

~MoM~

Maggie had thoroughly enjoyed her extended Christmas holiday and the visit with her sister. The Boxing Day sales at Illuminations, Madam Malkin's, Dragonsilver Designs and The Imaginarium had been wonderful. However, today she sat at her desk, fuming, glaring slyly over her favorite horn-rimmed rhinestone-encrusted glasses at the woman in crisp red business robes standing at the table which held the magical registries. My magical registries! They were my responsibility – mine – for over fifty years! Mrs. Shelton, Maggie silently snarled the name. Well the woman refuses to be on social terms or even on a first name basis, even though Mrs. Shelton is on a first name basis with everyone in the Auror office, the Oblivator's office and for that matter the entire MLE! She's even had lunch with the Minister three times since she'd moved in and taken over the Muggle and Muggle-born marriage and Muggle-born births announcements! Three times!

At least the accursed woman, no witch, has allowed me to put the ledgers in the proper order! Maggie fumed, watching Mrs. Shelton slide one perfectly manicured finger down the Birth Registration ledger. How dare she! In all the years that I've done this job I've never had the audacity to actually touch the ledgers – it's hardly necessary. And it could smudge the ink!

The green quill that chronicled all magical births, Muggle-born and wizardkind, on the Birth Registration ledger had recorded three births this morning. Maggie had simply been waiting until eleven when she could have taken the information to Ermengene at the Daily Prophet herself. Ermengene was a delightful woman, and Maggie always enjoyed it when they could schedule lunch together and discuss business.

Mrs. Sheldon made a tap on the page, irritating Maggie all the more, and then wrote something, most likely some Muggle-born birth on the parchment on her clipboard. Maggie lowered the parchments in her hands as Mrs. Sheldon stepped away from the table to return to her desk. "So, do we have a new wizard birth to announce?" Maggie asked, hopeful that this time the witch would at least allow her to register the magical birth. Maggie never bothered Ermengene with the Muggle-born births; those announcements were kept quiet until the name appeared on the Hogwarts registry. At the end of each school term, the Deputy Headmistress or Deputy Headmaster checked the Hogwarts registry and sent a letter to all the magical children who either were eleven already or who were due to turn eleven in time for their first year at Hogwarts. For those children who were born into Muggle families, who had no knowledge of the magical world, notices were sent to the Administration of Education Student Recruitment Offices to assign Access and Admissions Appointees to meet with the Muggle parents. That's how it had always been done.

Mrs. Sheldon turned and smiled. "Do not concern yourself about it, Ms. Whitmire. I've already got the pertinent information. I'll notify the papers."

Maggie tapped the stack of parchments in her hands on the desk as if the already perfectly tidy pages needed better alignment. It is my job to announce the wizarding births... was my – damn the witch! "Very well, Mrs. Sheldon, since you've taken down his information. Do tell Ermengene Cauldroon I said hello," she said as sweetly as she could muster.

"I will," Mrs. Sheldon said with a smile and turned around, dismissing Maggie in the process.

The impertinence of the witch.

Likewise, the Marriage and Magical Unions ledger with its red quill had new entries this morning, but Mrs. Sheldon had beaten Maggie to the office and had already sent the notices, via her staff, to the Daily Prophet. Christmas was a wonderful time of year for engagements! It was common among the young to announce betrothals on Christmas Eve or Christmas day to their families. Maggie had already read in the Daily Prophet and The Quibbler that both the Potters and the Snapes were officially engaged as of Christmas day. It hardly surprised Maggie that the Prophet would jump on the announcement, but Maggie fully suspected that the Snapes would likewise ignore her Engagement Confirmation forms. Still, she'd send them by owl later that morning anyway.

The Obituary and Life Termination register with its black quill had new entries that had been recorded over the holiday. This time of year was particularly hard on the old and infirm; the two deaths recorded on the Obituary and Life Termination register had depressed her.

She'd known Alpheus Newell Hyatt well. He'd been active in the United Kingdom Society of Magical Naturalists. His arguments for the theory that laws of nature, as opposed to supernatural ones, operate in the universe had intrigued her. His paper, The Natural Wizard, a commentary comparison on the natural magical world, such as pure-bloods and the accidental occurrences, such as Muggle-born witches and wizards, had once caused quite stir. He'd died in Azkaban last night of natural causes.

The other wizard was a very famous wizard, Master Frederic Penhallow. Master Penhallow had written the Laws of Method and Logical Transfiguration, which included validation of the principal exceptions to Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration. He'd died four days before his two hundredth birthday. He'd be greatly missed. He'd been an exceptional scholar and validated many Transfiguration discoveries.

Raymond Wood and John Thales had also died in a fight with the Aurors, although it was unknown if they'd been Death Eaters. Maggie didn't know them very well either, although they both came from fine magical families, and Mr. Wood's second cousin's son, Oliver, now flew for Puddlemere United.

And Rabastan Lestrange had died, but Maggie didn't have very many nice things to say in his obituary, so she stuck to the simple facts on his report.

At least she still had the privilege of writing to Hulbert Warrington of the Daily Prophet and Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of The Quibbler about the sad news. They haven't taken that away from me – yet.

The Magical Licenses and Certificates Department and The Muggle Marriage and Magical Parenthood Assistance Program, as it was now titled, had grown significantly in the last four months, and it was apparently a very big project of the Minister's since Mrs. Sheldon's office space had been enlarged, again. Mrs. Sheldon now had a personal assistant, Leticia Puddle, an entire clerical staff, several Muggle Liaison Officers, and a team of counselors being trained in Muggle Psychology... all for Muggles who either married a witch or wizard or had a magical child. Even the entire Improper Use of Magic Office had been relocated to this floor, and the lovely Mafilda Hopkirk had regular interoffice meetings with Mrs. Sheldon if anything arose. In fact, Stamford Jorkins from the Ministry Public Relations office came by to speak to Mrs. Shelton at least three to four times a week! It was astounding. All this – for Muggles! Didn't that counteract the Mission statement of the Ministry itself – to keep the awareness of magic and the general activities of witches and wizards hidden from the Muggles, as well as defy the International Statute of Secrecy?

Maggie stood up and retrieved the file on the Snapes. She'd become so frustrated looking at the magically bound folder that she'd placed it in her top Pending Confirmation of Registration drawer under its own tab – 'Invalidated.' The first file she'd ever had 'pending for an undetermined period of time' stamped on it.

The Bonding took place on the twenty-third of June, and here it was the second week of January! Six months and five days and still the couple failed to acknowledge the Bonding. At least there was confirmation that the couple was finally living together – and engaged. Rita had procured pictures of the couple attending the Burke's Christmas party and the Moncrieff's' Winter solstice gala; Maggie herself had obtained a copy of the picture taken of the Snapes from the Ministry's Christmas party. And there was a confirmation filed with the school governors that Mrs. Granger-Snape had agreed to move into the Headmaster's suites; it was filed underneath the Failure of Obligation form she'd filled out months ago, which was on top of the Declaration of Infidelity forms that the Minister had refused to allow Allyson Richardson in the MLE to sign.

In fact, that insufferable Hermione Granger-Snape had multiple Declaration of Infidelity forms, which had all been returned stamped 'unfounded' by the Minister. The Minister himself! Blast that man. Maggie had filed several reports of her girl's infidelity: two accounts with her ex-boyfriend Ronald Weasley, two more with that insufferable George Weasley. They'd both denied the accusations, of course, even though they'd been seen with Ms. Hermione Granger-Snape on more than one occasion. Their photos had appeared in the Daily Prophet, looking suspiciously chummy, and when Rita had inquired about the affair, Mr. George Weasley had even had the audacity to send Dungbombs in his return correspondence! Why the girl had even consorted with that Draco Malfoy, Disapparated away from Diagon Alley in his arms, and she was still held above reproach. The Wizengamot hadn't even considered Maggie's filing on that impropriety, and it had been returned stamped 'unfounded' in bold red. Never mind the shocking photos of the girl and Mr. Dean Thomas that she'd attached to that Declaration of Infidelity form – rejected as well.

She turned the page with an audible, Humphf!

Maggie's attempts to point out the unsuitable cohabitation with Harry Potter had likewise been rejected – twice! She'd lived with that boy for two days shy of three months before she'd finally returned to school – a week late at that – certainly there had been something going on! They had been unchaperoned teenagers, for an augury's wail!

The Failure of Confirmation and the Failure of Registration forms lay underneath; both properly filled out and submitted to the MLE and Wizengamot, now four times! Four times – and each time having been returned stamped 'hastily filed' and marked 'pending Minister's approval.' The last time she'd even received a warning to cease and desist from the Minister and her Department Head!

The file now had a tab designated as 'Severus Snape.' He had been declared dead, well 'presumed missing and dead' and recorded on the Obituary and Life Termination register as 'presumed dead,' until he'd shown up on the Marriage and Magical Unions ledger as 'betrothal pending' from a magical pairing-plight charm. Maggie had personally initiated his Proof of Life forms pending confirmation of his life status, which she'd been unable to have a Healer – any Healer – verify. His Bonding papers were properly filled out; of course, they were unsigned and marked 'pending Minister's approval.'

Severus Snape had a second Death Certificate since his name appeared in the Obituary and Life Termination register as 'practically dead' that had been amended two days later to read, 'Inferi.' Then one week later the ledger had proclaimed him to be 'deceased' yet again, which the black quill had scratched out – actually scratched out the entry – and pronounced him 'revived' moments later, which meant that the forms to have him reinstated as alive had to be filled out – again. The man just didn't stay dead. However, his second Reinstatement of Life forms, his second set of Proof of Life forms had been properly completed, and his consciousness had been confirmed by three very qualified Healers... as was his Magical Competency forms and his reinstatement as Headmaster... Never, ever, had a file become so thick.

And Maggie still had no idea which form to use for someone revived from being an Inferi! It had never been done before Ms. Hermione Granger-Snape managed to reverse Severus Snape's Inferi status – er, condition. But she had also revived, well, cured several other victims of the Inferi Curse this last September as well, and the Healers all claimed that the individuals were cured, not revived as the Obituary and Life Termination register indicated. So, Maggie had to create a new form specifically for these fortunate few: the Inferi Cursed Patient Reversal-Cured form, which accompanied a Healer verified Proof of Life and Magical Competency forms.

She shut the file, fixed the red ribbon binding it and tapped the ministry seal with her wand, sealing the file closed. She clasped her hands together on the edge of the desk and stared at the offending file. She hated loose ends.

"Maggie, have you a moment?"

Maggie looked up, pleased to see Stamford Jorkins, Head of the Department of Public Relations for the Ministry of Magic, leaning around the doorway. "Of course, Mr. Jorkins; what a pleasure to see you," she replied with a genuine smile. Eat that, Mrs. Sheldon; I'm still a valuable employee of the Ministry.

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that," he said as he stepped into her office, er, office space. "I am really looking forward to having you as a member of the team."

"Team?" she asked in confusion.

"Yes, I couldn't wait to come down and tell you," he said with a pleased smile. "It's not official yet, but with so much reallocation going on, departments being reorganized so that those doing similar functions report to the right Heads..."

Maggie stared at him numbly. What has that Shacklebolt done now?

"You'll be working under Mrs. Sheldon starting Monday and sending your marriage announcements and obituaries through my office," he said without pause. "Come by to see me this afternoon at three. I need to introduce you to Evelyn Goodale, Head of Ministry News and our lead Ministry liaison for the Daily Prophet."

He left without waiting for her to say if she was available at three or to answer any of her questions, such as 'When was this decided?'

Maggie actually saw red.

She shoved the Snape file back in her cabinet and closed the drawer with a frustrated sigh. She returned to her desk and picked up her morning copy of the Daily Prophet and turned to the page with Rita's column.

But it wasn't there.

Jonathan Newell's Household Tips and Solutions column was where Rita's column had always been for the last sixteen years or so. She checked the next page and the next.

While on holiday, she had heard through a reliable source that the new editor of the paper, Lawrence McClatchy, had given her dear friend Rita Skeeter a warning: check your facts or find another occupation. Of all the nerve! You simply didn't tell a journalist of Rita's caliber, integrity and popularity that she was misrepresenting or falsifying the facts. The woman is tenacious in her investigations. People simply didn't like having the truth come out, and Rita is one for ferreting out the truth! The woman is a marvel at finding facts! She'd never once misquoted anything Maggie had told her. It was inconceivable!

She checked each page, searching for Rita's column, finally reaching the obituaries and saw that the obituaries for the five names on her list were already published. Maggie's fingers curled tightly, and she slammed down her fists, crumpling her paper. Well, of all the nerve – how dare they, she thought looking at Mrs. Sheldon. Her new boss. The thought stuck in her craw like an Acid Pop. Well, all right. If I'm not needed, I'll-I'll simply take an early lunch. Starting now.

She got up and left the office without saying anything to anyone, least of all Mrs. Sheldon.

~H~

Hermione's first week back had been quite busy. It turned out that the gorgeous secretary desk where Kirch had put all of Hermione's school supplies was in her very own study: a nice room with bookshelves on two walls, a small fireplace, a comfortable wood chair by the desk, and a lounge and cushy armchairs placed by twin windows with beveled diamond panes. It was everything she could hope for, and he'd even brought her trunk in, but he'd decorated it to look like an ottoman with a throw blanket and two pillows.

There was a door on her left that opened to a lovely parlor and a second door on the right that led to a bedroom. The bedroom had a canopy bed with vine-carved posts, like the one Luna had described were in the Ravenclaw dormitories, and gold embroidered, burgundy drapes. There was a mirrored dressing table and single-drawer bedside tables with a space for books, and a double-sided wardrobe that when open she could actually walk into as if it were a room in of itself. The door on the opposite wall opened to the nursery, and beyond that one was another bedroom, a playroom full of baby toys, and a lounge that Kirch called a family room.

Hermione stood in her new study, listening to Kirch, her head thrumming from taking everything in. "Kirch makes door open from this room to Mistress' parlor room for entertaining friends and a powder room for visitors," the elf explained, pointing to her left. He turned to face the other wall, adding, "And across here is Miss' bedroom and bathing room and dressing closet and nursery and a baby room, a baby play room and a family room to sit as a family," his hand bouncing as he pointed, almost as if he could see through the walls.

"So I have my own bedroom with a walk-in wardrobe, bathroom, a parlor with an ensuite and this study, plus a nursery?" Hermione asked, amazed. The parlor had several comfortable chintz chairs, delicate side tables and coffee table in front of a small fireplace and two long windows that let in plenty of light. A table stood on either side of the room with bouquets of flowers in gorgeous French vases.

Kirch nodded. "And eating room. Unless Miss needs Kirch to add more rooms to the Round Room?"

Hermione turned and walked back to look at the odd Round Room, trying to fathom what he could mean by more rooms. From what Hermione visualized, the door to the mysterious room stood where the wall of the Headmaster's Tower joined the main castle walls, making the Round Room literally in or next to the junction. It wasn't really round at all, more oblong, and little more than a ring of doors. Each door opened to a room, and the rooms were not square either, but trapezoid-shaped with the windows in the far curved wall as if the rooms were in a round tower. "No, I think you've outdone yourself as it is," she said in awed disbelief.

Kirch beamed in delight. "Kirch is happy to please, miss," he said and vanished with a pop.

Not that Severus was at all pleased that she had her own bedroom and bath, but Professor McGonagall had been satisfied. "For propriety's sake," she'd said to Severus, ignoring his scowl. Nevertheless, Hermione had yet to actually sleep in her new bedroom. Additionally, she only used her bathroom if she wanted to freshen up and change before dinner, and poor Dezzy was constantly retrieving her clothes from one wardrobe to the other for Hermione, depending on where Hermione was dressing, something that bothered Hermione. She honestly thought she was abusing the sweet house-elf, regardless of how delighted Dezzy seemed to be when Hermione asked her for anything.

Hermione, Ginny and Luna met before dinner Monday night to coordinate their schedules. Hermione and Ginny also coordinated their revision guides to include the dates of their club meetings and set aside times to work on their NEWT projects and to work out brewing times, revision times.

After their last lessons on Friday, Hermione and Ginny got together again in their potions lab to finish that week's potions in their ongoing push to validate as many of Severus' potions as possible before leaving Hogwarts. So far, they had everything they needed to write up their report on the improved versions of the Verso-Quixotically and Polyjuice Potions from last term, and they had to brew Severus' version of the Wolfsbane Potion, hopefully proving his improvement of the efficacy on that one as well. Their work on their N.E.W.T. Transfiguration project, changing an inanimate object into an animate object, still kept hitting a snag, but Ginny was certain that they'd work out the problem sooner or later. Hermione was certain it wasn't a wand movement error.

Hermione counted to twenty-eight as she stirred her third batch of the Baby-Bonding Potion for postpartum depression. So far her other two potions were the perfect shade of baby blue.

Hermione set down her stirring rod. "Ginny, we need to work out the cognizance aspect in changing an inanimate object into an animate object," Hermione said, waiting for the potion to stop whirling in her cauldron, watching the color shift from deepest blue to soft baby blue. She turned to watch Ginny finish her third batch for mothers with a baby girl. "I've been trying to rework Arithmancy; theoretically I can make it all work; I can get the Arithmancy equations to balance, but I keep ending up with compound events – both independent and dependent – and I think... I think it will involve more than just the Transfiguration spell we've worked out – we may have to charm the object as well."

Ginny put down her stirring rod. "Perfect, my strength is in Charms, and you're superb at Arithmancy – together we should be able to do this," she said, looking up from workstation.

Hermione peeked into her friend's cauldrons, smiling at the pretty baby pink. "Or to have the traits of the animate object... Maybe we should concentrate on changing a rock into a dog and add in the traits we know a dog to possess."

"Like animating a toy?" Ginny asked, placing her stirring rod on the table. "I thought the idea was to have the inanimate become fully animate?"

"But each time we transfigure it, the animate object moves but it's not aware. It's like that little toy dragon Harry has," Hermione stated, bringing her hands up at her sides and letting them fall. "We can't create life, but we can't create the illusion of life either – just animation of an object to do certain responses like spitting fire and flapping its wings or walking forward and barking. Ugh, I feel like Frankenstein."

"Frank Enstein? I don't know anyone by that name," Ginny said, utterly confused.

"A Muggle book that inspired several Muggle movies... Not important unless you want some light reading," Hermione said offhandedly in explanation.

"Maybe over the summer. I've enough reading as it is for school," Ginny said.

Hermione looked up, saying, "I was thinking, what if we infuse some of our magic while layering the charms for the behavioral aspects of a dog during the transfiguration? Maybe the resulting dog would behave in a conscious way."

Ginny looked thoughtful, but didn't say anything, so Hermione pressed on. "I was reading Alpheus Newell Hyatt's principles based upon the idea of natural magic – his idea on natural laws and forces. He says that true magic is passed down from magical parents to their offspring, but assumed magic is absorbed by will, something like osmosis – taken into the being – like stealing or siphoning it from a host. I know, weird. But his definitions of real magic and assumed magic are intriguing. Not that I agree with him, but he raised some interesting points about the transference of magic and how magic works."

"You're mental!" Ginny exclaimed as she held up her hand. "His definition of the 'natural magical world' and the Muggle-born 'accidental magical occurrences' was the basis for the Muggle-Born Registration Commission imprisoning the Muggle-borns and half-bloods that couldn't prove they had proper magical heritage!"

"Yes, I know, but still, he was brilliant. His paper citing the philosophical assumptions of the twelfth century Renaissance wizards is fascinating – if not disturbing – but his explanation of accidental magical occurrences gave me an idea," Hermione said in her defense. "Maybe we should try and create the accident – layering behavior charms to the transfiguration." She put Frederic Penhallow's Laws of Method and Logical Transfiguration on the table and opened the book to her marker. "I think that Penhallow's fifth principal exception to Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration applies in what we want to do."

Across the room, her second timer went off.

"Hermione, no one has ever been able to validate Penhallow's hypothesis but Penhallow himself," Ginny said, watching her friend as she walked to the other worktable.

"Yet," Hermione said with a slight smirk that twisted into a sly smile as she lowered the flame under the three cauldrons of Whymemerger Draught. "But what if he's right? What if transmutation in transfiguration conversion can be done?"

"Whoa! Wait? What? Oh my gods!" Ginny exclaimed, gaping at her. "You've already done it haven't you?"

"Done what?" Hermione asked, her attention diverted from her train of thought as she looked up from the third cauldron of Whymemerger Draught. "Proved his theory? No! Well, not really."

"You have – in theory – haven't you?" Ginny asked and then became thoughtful. "Do you really think it can be done?"

Hermione smiled as she walked back and reached for her bag. "I'll show you what I have so far." She pulled out her Arithmancy composition book and explained her equations and theory until their timers went off. They each lowered the flames under their Baby-Bonding Potions.

"So, when did you want to try this?" Ginny asked, turning her attention back to their discussion. "You already filled up all my free time with our brewing times and revisions. Thank you by the way for allowing me Tuesday for Quidditch practice."

Hermione chuffed a laugh.

"Don't laugh, I'm captain this year!"

"I still need to finish the calculations, and I'm a long way from finding a solution," Hermione said, looking at their list of potions. "Okay, these potions are done; we just have to write up our validations and turn them in to Professor Reynolds. So I was thinking about brewing these next week." She handed Ginny a scrap of parchment, which she'd already written a short list:

Attentiveness Potion, which increases a person's attention span but can cause restlessness and hyperactivity

Impulsivity Draught for procrastinators

"Then we could start brewing the Wolfsbane potion on the tenth, the first night of the moon's waxing crescent," Hermione added, tapping the page in her revision guide.

"All right... and the Médousa Potion," Ginny chimed in, making Hermione look up. "We haven't resumed work on that one yet."

"Severus won't until we work out which seeds are needed," Hermione said regretfully. "We're at a standstill until one of us discovers what it is."

"So, when did you want to work on it?" Ginny asked as she opened her planner. "We have a free evening tomorrow!" She looked up with a smile. "We could spend time on it tomorrow."

"No, it's Severus' birthday," Hermione stated. "I've made arrangements for a nice dinner." It was tomorrow, and she still had no idea what to do for him, except a quiet dinner alone, just the two of them. Naturally, Mispy promised to set up a nice romantic dinner in the old classroom at the top of the East Tower; a place Severus had mentioned he'd liked going – especially the day after a full moon.

"That's it?" Ginny asked, and Hermione shrugged.

"I did order something from Scrivenshaft's last week," she said with a sigh. "But it's hard to go shopping when your Bonded mate will not let you out of his sight."

"I bet," Ginny said, getting that thoughtful look that sometimes worried Hermione. "I may have an idea for you," she said, her eyes sparkling in the way that made Hermione reluctant to ask.

"What?"

"Trust me, okay?" Ginny said, grinning.

"Am I going to regret this?" Hermione asked nervously.

"No," Ginny said, summoning the box of bottles from the supply cupboard.

~S~

So far, his birthday was going exactly as he'd wanted it to be. He woke up that morning with Hermione snuggled by his side and they'd made love, then had breakfast in bed, followed by making love again. He'd opened his gifts; the usual assortment of books, potions equipment, rare potion ingredients, and a few Dark magic detection devices from his colleagues and friends. Lucius and Narcissa had sent him a two hundred year-old bottle of Odgen's finest with crystal goblets, and Draco and Astoria sent him a new pair of dragon hide gloves. Elaine Prevatt, Clerk to the Governing Body, a box of cigars on behalf of the Hogwarts School Governors. Neville and Luna had given him a Dracula simia, a humorously creepy orchid known as the Monkey Orchid that made monkey noises and screeches. Harry, on behalf of he and Ginevra, had sent him the three books Severus had found in Jugson's hideout in Toxteth, Liverpool, with a Letter of Special Dispensation from Kingsley authorizing his ownership. Severus spent the rest of the morning, until lunch, reading one of his new books while Hermione revised in the library with her friends.

However, after lunch, he was intercepted by Hermione and Ginevra in front of the gargoyle to his office. He sighed. He'd hoped to resume his reading since Hermione had indicated earlier that she desired to spend the part of the afternoon on her studies.

"I have a surprise for you, Severus. Follow me," Ginevra said with a mischievous smile he'd seen on the faces of Fred and George plenty of times before, usually just before their potions exploded or overflowed their cauldron in some ghastly mess.

Hermione shrugged, looking quite nervous and apologetic at the same time, but her hand tightened on his, and she gave it a slight tug, encouraging him to go with the girls. "Oh, very well, lead on," he said, capitulating to them with some reluctance. As they descended from the seventh floor to the ground floor, taking several seldom used staircases and corridors, he tried to speculate on where Ginevra was leading him. When they finally exited into a damp section of the dungeons, he became quite suspicious. "Where exactly are we going?" he asked apprehensively as they passed through an obscured archway that reeked of old sewage and down a long, dank and moldy corridor.

"You'll see," Ginevra said cryptically, proceeding down the corridor, away from the more commonly used areas of the dungeons.

She had them turn right at the next corridor, down a short flight of stairs, then right again at the next corridor. "The Bloody Baron and Moaning Myrtle showed me how to find it," Ginevra said with a huge grin and made another right turn at the next junction, giving Severus the sense of having walked in a wide circle.

She finally stopped. Ginevera drew her wand, saying a rather Dark Art enchantment as she raked her fingernails down the rough stones, and pushed open a heavy door that appeared in the wall. "This is the base of what had once been Salazar Slytherin's Tower."

With some trepidation, Severus succumbed to his curiosity and followed the girls into the dimly lit chamber. Behind him was a short tunnel with dark, slimy walls, the ground littered with the remains of rats (and whatever else died down here) and a vivid green snake skin, sticking out beneath a wall of broken rock and rubble with a gaping hole at the top. He felt his skin crawl as he realized it was the remains of a basilisk's skin, if he were to guess right.

"This way," Ginevra said confidently, scrambling up the rubble for the hole with Hermione right behind her.

Once safely on the other side of the blockage, Severus and Hermione followed Ginevra as she continued down the tunnel and around another bend until the girl stopped short at a wall with two intricately carved serpents with glinting emerald eyes within a huge iron ring set embedded in a black stone wall like a medallion. Severus' mouth and throat went dry. The eyes of the snake gave the impression that the stone snakes were strangely alive.

"That," she said, pointing, "is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets."

"Very good, Ginevra, you know the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. However, I already know of its existence..."

He was cut off short when Ginevra hissed, "Sssisess syrethss," and repeated it, or a variation of it, three times. Suddenly, the snakes on the medallion uncoiled and slithered apart on the wall until their noses pressed a particular spot within the iron ring. There was a soft metallic clicking sound as the snakes slid smoothly out of sight. For a moment Severus felt a fleeting sense of relief until he heard a heavy thunking sound followed by a hiss and the unmistakable sound of stone moving against metal as the slab of rock within the ring moved away.

"Ron taught me how to say it," she said when Severus cocked his eyebrow at her. "Follow me."

Severus followed the girls and found himself standing in the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber, with towering stone pillars entwined with more extremely detailed and very life-like hollow-eyed serpents that supported a ceiling somewhere up in the gloomy darkness above him, casting long dark shadows through the greenish gloom that filled the vast space.

"This way," Ginevra said with a smile, obviously proud to be showing him this treasure.

They walked forward, between the serpentine columns on a smooth stone path. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the vast space, especially his footsteps since he wore his customary boots and both girls wore their trainers. Between the columns were reflection pools that he tried not to stare into, but even the pattern of the stones set in the path resembled snake scales. Severus tried to keep his focus forward. Nevertheless, the hollow eyes of the snakes on the columns seemed to follow him, watching – waiting. As they walked, the combination of the shadows and the eerie glow of the green illumination gave the serpents the impression of movement, setting Severus' teeth on edge, and he fought back the memories he had of Nagini and her near-fatal bite.

Half-way through the chamber they came upon the ghastly carcass of the basilisk, the head still sporting some rotting flesh even though the body of the immense serpent had been eaten away by rats, leaving only the skeleton. He forced himself to name all the uses of basilisk venom in the Dark Arts and then the uses of the skin to avoid staring at the gruesome sight as they continued forward.

When they finally stopped level with the last pillar, he found himself staring up at the huge statue of Salazar Slytherin himself. The image was not like any of the depictions that Severus was familiar with. This rendition had heavy brows, close-set, round eyes, a flattened nose, a thin mouth and a long thin beard that reached to the floor. It was probably a self-portrait, designed to appear imposing and depicting a high intelligence with an ambitious gleam in the eyes, a proud, purposeful posture, and the fingers laced together that usually represented a cunning personality.

"So, what do you think?" Ginevra asked, obviously waiting for some sort of reaction from him.

"Impressive," he said simply, truly at a loss for intelligible speech. The petite redhead looked immensely pleased, but all he could think of was that he could hardly wait to leave the place.

~H~

Hermione did have some reservations when Ginny announced her surprise for Severus' birthday, but she'd been unprepared for his complete lack of response upon seeing the impressive chamber of the infamous founder. Even Ginny had remarked on his lack of acknowledgment, appreciation or recognition. In fact, Severus had affected his old persona, his stone-faced indifference firmly in place as he'd followed them silently into the chamber. However, his severe lack of reaction to the basilisk carcass was quite telling, and she'd wondered if maybe the chamber had brought back too many horrible memories of the war, Voldemort, Nagini and the snakebite that almost killed him.

She remembered him telling her that he'd had enough of snakes once, but until that moment standing in front of Salazar Slytherin's statue, did she realized how much of an effect the chamber would have on him. When they'd left, he'd thanked Ginny in the Entrance Hall, albeit rather formally, and excused himself, turning to exit out the huge oak doors.

Ginny had wanted to run after him to apologize, but Hermione restrained her, knowing that Severus needed some time to himself.

"I thought he'd be... happier, being able to see the chamber, considering that only the three of us, Harry and my brother have been in there since Riddle attended school," Ginny said remorsefully.

Naturally, Hermione knew that Ginny had been planning the surprise for a while. "It might have been better if we'd offered to show him, given him time to think about it, rather than surprising him like we did," Hermione said, hoping Severus was all right. "Let's work on our project, and after a while, I'll go and find him."

Ginny nodded, still troubled. "I didn't mean to upset him; but you're right, I should've told him. Then he would've had time to prepare himself instead of stumbling into it unawares." She looked up at Hermione earnestly. "Tell him I'm sorry."

"I promise."

Because neither could concentrate on their Charms or Transfiguration project, and Hermione knew it'd be useless to even attempt her Arithmancy calculations, they decided to search through the Herbology books for magical and mundane plants that produced seeds. Hermione led Ginny up to the sitting room and, after giving an amazed Ginny a tour of her new rooms, pulled out her list of every known seed used in potions from her secretary. "Here's the list I was telling you about. I've already gone through every Potions book in the library, including the Restricted Section."

"Too bad you didn't search through the Malfoy's library," Ginny said as they headed back to the library. "I hear it's extensive."

"Oh, Gin, it's incredible," Hermione gushed, telling her all about the magnificent library.

"It must have been heavenly," Ginny said with a grin that faded when she became quiet, deep in thought. "Too bad I can't go."

"I can ask Severus if it would be all right to ask Narcissa. If he says yes, and she's amendable to it, maybe we can go next weekend. We'd have to adjust a few things, maybe get Ravenclaw to swap Quidditch practice for your time slot on Sunday..." Hermione suggested.

"I'll ask Lawrence Carlin if we can switch. You know, I could write to Neville and see if he knows of any rare seed plant that we might not know about," Ginny suggested. "He's always reading Herbology journals and obscure Herbology books."

They searched through Herbology books until Hermione said she had to go. "My special dinner with Severus," she reminded her friend. She readily promised Ginny she'd pass on her apology when Ginny said once again, "Tell him I'm sorry," and hurried up to go change. She dressed in her garnet robes, since she remembered him asking her to wear them on Boxing Day, and the necklace of Tunisian glass and amber beads he'd given her last November. When she walked into his office to walk to dinner together, he stood and stared at her, his eyebrow quirked questioningly at her appearance.

"You're overdressed for dinner in the Great Hall," he stated.

She smiled. "I thought we'd eat alone tonight, if that's all right. Just you and me – for your birthday," she said, watching his confused expression morph into a smile.

"Where are we going?" he asked as she led him toward the East Tower.

"It's a surprise," she said, then blanched and stopped, turning to face him as his face became stony. "Not like – gods, Severus, we didn't think. I'm so sorry – Ginny's really sorry. We felt horrible about... We shouldn't have sprung that on you like we did."

His expression softened. "I'm sorry if I alarmed you," he said quietly. "I was... unprepared."

"And if we'd told you where we were taking you, offered rather than assumed," she stammered.

"But because I'm Slytherin you thought I'd want to see it," he said softly.

"You were Head of Slytherin for years," she said with a nod. "I'm sorry it upset you."

"I don't blame you, nor do I find fault with Ginevra." He reached out and touched her cheek. "But for the sake of my sanity, where are you leading me this time?"

"Somewhere you said you used to like to read or to watch the sunrise on days you'd wake up early enough," she said, watching his face for his reaction. They had eaten there before, and she'd picked the room for its spectacular view, and when the sun set, they'd be able to see the lights from Hogsmeade.

A crease formed between his brows, so she added, "The seventh floor of the East Tower. I asked Mispy to set the room up for a romantic dinner." His lips softened into a smile, and he indicated they proceed, which made her feel better about her choice.

When she opened the door to the room, she nearly gasped at the sight. Mispy had draped the entire room in soft, crystal speckled, black velvet, leaving only the windows and the wall sconces visible. Huge candelabras stood in the corners, illuminating the room with a warm glow, making the thousands of crystals sparkle in the candlelight. A table, elegantly set for two in glistening silver, stood in the center of the room. Severus held out her chair and Hermione sat, still amazed at the elegance of the room.

As soon as he sat down, a long, flat box wrapped in silver with a black bow appeared on his plate. He cocked his head, an unspoken question in his dark eyes, but she smiled, knowingly. She smiled as he unwrapped the handsome silver-tipped black quill. "I sent a request to Scrivenshaft's last week," Hermione said, then looked up at him. "It's not much, but I hope you like it."

"It's perfect," he said, thanking her for the gift. "But this," he said, indicating her, "is all I needed."

Hermione felt her face warm as Mispy appeared with their first soup course. They ate, talking softly. Hermione had asked Mispy to serve Severus' favorite foods, and each course the elf served seemed to please him and tasted delicious. At the end of the meal, Mispy cleared off the table, leaving a mouth-watering chocolate Sformato with Amaretto whipped cream for Hermione and a crème brulee cheesecake for Severus.

After only a few bites, Severus set down his spoon and watched Hermione with a bemused smile playing on his lips. "Do you want to try a bite?" she asked, holding out a bit of the Sformato her fork.

"Yes," he replied.

When she leaned forward, extending her offering, he indicating she should come over to him with a curling motion of his finger. She rose and walked around the small table. He pulled her onto his lap, taking the fork from her and setting it down. "I thought you wanted a bite of my dessert?" she asked lightly as she placed her forearms on his shoulders.

"I do," he said in his deep sexy drawl, his arms tightening around her. "But not for chocolate."

She cocked her head slightly, her mouth stretching into a lopsided grin as his fingers stroked her hair, brushing it back. "Don't you like chocolate?"

The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, even though his mouth twitched into a smirk. "I'm not in the mood for chocolate."

His hand cupped the back of her head, gently drawing her closer to him as she asked, "Then what do you want?" teasingly, although it came out breathless in anticipation of his kiss.

The look in his eyes intensified. "You," he breathed as his lips met hers. His kiss was sensual and light, teasingly gentle yet firm. His fingers played in her hair, keeping her to him (not that she was inclined to draw away) but not forcing her or restricting her ability to move her head while kissing him back.

She loved kissing him and was amazed at how much he conveyed in something as simple as a kiss: sometimes being fiery and needy, sometimes hesitant and questioning, sometimes demanding or hungrily lecherous or, like tonight, loving and tender. Hermione began to feel a warm fuzzy, light-headed sensation that seemed to bloom deep in her gut as well, and she melted into his embrace, wrapping her arms about him more firmly. His other hand slid slowly down her back, ending at her bum as he drew her close to him, so she sat more comfortably on his lap.

His fingers tightened in her hair, not painfully, but enough to break their kiss and make her lean back with her neck arched so he could trail his talented lips from her jaw down her neck. Her eyes closed as his lips brushed the curve of her neck and across her collarbone as his hands slid to her shoulders. Then, slowly, his lips descended, and her eyes snapped open as her robe slid down, revealing her chest and breasts. "Severus?" she asked as he purred silkily, "You really do have lovely breasts."

"But Mispy will be here any minute to clear away the dishes," she protested.

"She has already cleared the table," he said, smiling against her skin, his hands cupping her breasts. He suckled one nipple, his fingers caressing and molding the other deliciously. She watched him, his hair partly obscuring his face as he switched his attention to the other, rolling her moistened pebbled nipple in his fingers, sending chills down to her groin. She stroked his sides, his arms, loving the attention, almost in worship of her breasts.

"Stand up, Hermione," he said, his voice rough with desire. She reluctantly slid from his lap, surprised when he nonverbally made the table move back with a wave of his hand. His gaze raked over her as he put his hands on her hips, saying, "Pull your skirts up," in a soft request.

"Only if you push them down," she replied with jut of her chin, knowing what he wanted and wanting it as much as he did. She smiled, watching him unfasten his frockcoat and trousers, her mouth gaping open slightly for a moment when he pulled himself free as she watched. "Shirt too," she demanded, biting her lip as his fingers began unfastening his buttons. He looked so rakish, staring at her with his penis standing erect, jutting up from his opened fly, his clothes hanging open and disheveled, baring his body to her. She inched her skirts up slowly, exposing her legs to him. "Is this what you want?" she asked as she hooked her fingers under her knickers.

"Yes," he said, reaching for her, but she shook her head.

She slid her knickers down her legs, keeping her gaze locked on his. His eyes seemed to darken as he watched her, his mouth slightly open, his chest expanding with each breath. She freed one foot, then the other, never loosing eye contact, and tossed her knickers to the side before straightening up, bringing the hem of her robes up with her. He reached for her again, his eyes riveted on hers, and she straddled his lap, letting the bodice of her robe pool at her waist along with her skirts. "You know, we could always..."

"Silence, woman," he hissed as she rubbed herself on his shaft. "Gods, Hermione."

Emboldened by his willingness to relinquish control to her, she undulated on his lap, sliding herself along his length wantonly. "Guide me," she demanded softly, almost a plea, wanting him inside her and reveling in her ability to make him surrender to her. He reached down, sliding his hand beneath her robe and grasped himself, angling his penis so she could impale herself on him. His fingers stroked her as she slid down, taking him in a little at a time with each drop she made, sending shocks of pleasure shooting through her as the glorious feeling of him filling her clouded her mind.

She pushed herself down firmly on his lap, closing her eyes, enjoying the moment of being filled, squeezing her pelvic muscles on his throbbing member. She loved this moment, feeling him in her, feeling gloriously penetrated, stretched, growing warm within and complete. Two becoming one, intimately joined, the heartbeat before the dance. His hips shifted, undulating, making his penis move within her. She opened her eyes, and using her thighs and hips, she rose upward and forward with his thrust and then lowered back and down as she sank onto him while he simultaneously stroked her with his fingers. Within minutes she found a rhythm, rolling her pelvis forward slightly before rising and rolling back as she came back down, creating as much friction for herself as she could.

He watched her passively, as if simply letting her take her pleasure from him, but she could tell by his half-lidded eyes as he looked down and dark lust-laden gaze when he looked up at her, his heavily breathing and occasional times his mouth opened slightly, he was enjoying being ridden as much as she enjoyed ridding him. "Relax, Hermione," he said softly, his voice deep and rough as he grabbed her hips. "Stop analyzing and feel," he growled in a soft purr.

She closed her eyes, rolling her head back and let her mind go, permitting herself to think of nothing else, allowing her sensitivity to the sensations consume her, her body moving in a well-trained rhythm, driving her along with the swelling throb growing deep within her. "More, harder," she panted, grinding and jarring against him to increase the friction as her need built. The tempo of his thrusts increased, and her movements accelerated to match as she felt the need within her rising. She was close, so close.

"Come," he said through gritted teeth. "Oh, gods, Hermione, I can't – you are so tight, so..." His fingers clutched onto her, guiding her, and she felt the pressure surge, like a tide turning and flowing down and through her as she succumbed to its release, letting go and giving in, crying, "Yes, yes, yes, oh yes!" as her orgasm rolled through her.

Her strength left her as her body melted with the ebb of the orgasm, and she collapsed on his chest with a heavy, heart-pounding, mind-numbing sense of exhausted bliss. His arms slackened for a moment, then wrapped around her, holding her lovingly in his embrace, his breathing ragged and his body sweaty.

"Thank you," he breathed.

"Happy birthday," she replied drowsily.

His arms tightened, laying his head on her shoulder and burying his face in her hair.

"It has been," he finally murmured softly.

~ T B C ~>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o0o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's notes: