Chapter 2 – The First Thread

Despite the lateness of the hour, Gryffindor Tower was still buzzing with activity when Professor Hermione Granger entered through the portrait hole. Pushing back the hair from her face, she paused for a moment to survey the common room. Most of the first years were congregated around a pile of luggage near the center of the room, either chatting with their friends or wading through heavy trunks to locate their belongings. A number of third years sat on one of the couches, performing harmless spells to celebrate the lift of the summer's magic prohibition.

After returning a greeting from third year Victoire Weasley, Hermione spotted her daughter curled up in an armchair, nose deep in a copy of Magical Draughts and Potions. A knowing smile spread across her face as she approached Athena, amused at the similarities that she and her daughter shared. "Hey, didn't you already read that over the summer?" she asked, taking a seat on the armrest.

"Yes, but there's no hurt in reviewing," Athena answered, raising her gaze from an illustration of bezoars. "Even though these are quite simple, I suppose," she added, thumbing through pages of step-by-step instructions. After a few seconds, she stopped on a page with a bright blue bottle. "Why is Cure for Boils even in here? Father taught me that three years ago."

Releasing a chuckle, Hermione responded, "Remember, Athena, not many students have the benefit of a former Potions master for a father."

"I know, it's a shame!" Athena observed in astonishment, her brown eyes expanding. "Molly told me that she's never even brewed a potion! Isn't that sad?"

"Then Percy and Audrey have been spared," Hermione responded with a laugh, highly amused at her daughter's keen interest in potions. When Severus had first introduced a four year old Athena to the "subtle science and exact art" of potion-making, Hermione had believed the girl's eager fascination to be a mere phase. However, after many years of dinners combined into strange concoctions, overflowing cauldrons, explosions, overturned jars of pickled slugs, and the accidental creation of a Flatulence Potion, the flustered mother realized that Athena's love of potions was there to stay. "Your poor father taught a very interesting Defense lesson last year when that Flatulence Potion took effect."

"It was an accident," Athena responded sheepishly, her cheeks turning pink in embarrassment at the memory. "It was supposed to a Headache Healing Potion, but I still don't know what went wrong."

"And somehow neither does your father," Hermione remarked with a chuckle, recalling her husband's frustration at the incident. Once she and Athena had shared a few moments of laughter, Hermione said, "Oh that reminds me, I have something for you."

Athena watched her mother curiously as Hermione opened her oversized book bag, waded through a few Charms textbooks, and produced a leather-bound tome.

"This is for you," Hermione told her, handing Athena the sizable book. "I know it's not required by Professor Binns, but I thought you might find it quite interesting. It was one of my favorite books for light reading when I was your age."

As she gazed down at the golden letters that formed A Guide to Medieval Sorcery, Athena's eyes immediately lit up and flashed with an excitement that Hermione thoroughly recognized. "Thanks, Mum!" she exclaimed, eagerly flipping through the tawny-colored pages.

While Athena began studying an illustration of medieval cauldron structure, Hermione pulled out a narrow-necked jar from her bag. "Your father has something for you too," she said warmly, handing her daughter the jar.

Peering into the bulbous bottom of the jar, Athena released an astonished gasp as she spied three translucent, leaf-like objects. "Fairy wings!" she marveled. Her wide eyes raised to her mother's in delight for a moment before quickly flickering back to the jar, pressing her face against it to examine the delicate wings more closely. "Oh, how should I use them? A Girding Potion? Maybe a Beautification Potion? Ooh, or perhaps a Hiccoughing Solution!" Brown eyes glistened with excitement as the black-haired girl imagined all the possibilities for utilizing the rare potion ingredient. A Guide to Medieval Sorcery lay open on her lap, quite forgotten.

While it was quite evident which gift Athena preferred, Hermione nonetheless found humor and delight in her daughter's enthusiasm over the potion ingredient. "Now don't forget to thank your father at breakfast tomorrow," she reminded gently.

Without taking her enormous brown eyes off the jar that was pressed up against her nose, Athena responded. "Oh, I won't! These are incredible! Just look at how they shine!" She began incessantly turning the jar around to examine the fairy wings at every possible angle, marveling at how the fireplace's soft glow reflected upon their lustrous surface.

Hermione released another chuckle at Athena's absorption before scanning the common room. Most of the first years had vacated the premises with their luggage, leaving the Tower more spacious. The spell-casting third years had likewise retired to their dormitories, leaving only a couple of snogging fifth years hidden in the corner. Suddenly noticing the absence of someone who rarely left her daughter's side, Hermione asked, "Where's Mookskin?"

"She's in my room with my stuff," Athena replied, her eyes still glued on the fairy wings.

Fifteen pounds of pure ginger fluff, Mookskin was a likely decedent of Crookshanks to which Athena had become quite attached. Since Crookshanks had impregnated many felines in his lifetime, there was no way to be sure that the kitten that appeared in Snape's office one day was indeed Crookshanks' offspring. But Athena's fast bond with the mangy fur ball, coupled with Hermione's love of cats, prevented Severus from turning it away, thus adopting Mookskin into the Snape household. After six years of inescapable fur clinging to his black robes, Hermione's vexed husband had been very willing to allow Athena to take Mookskin with her when she moved into a dormitory.

As the small, crackling flames in the fireplace began to slowly die, Hermione gazed up at the luminous clock above the mantel. "Well, speaking of your room, I think it's about time you go to bed," she told her daughter, glancing around at the nigh vacant common room.

Putting the fairy wing jar down for the first time since she had received it, Athena regarded her mother with disappointment. "Aw, Mum, do I have to?" she asked with a slight pout "I don't think I'll be able to sleep – I'm too excited for tomorrow! I hope I have Herbology first, some of the students say we might! Professor Longbottom is really nice, I'm sure it'll be great! I can't wait to – "

"You may not be living in our quarters anymore, but as your Head of House I can still see to it that you turn in at a decent hour," Hermione interrupted, adopting her "no-nonsense mother" tone. Despite the firmness in her voice, her eyes still emanated enjoyment.

"All right," Athena reluctantly agreed, casting one more wistful glance at her fairy wings before scooping up the jar and the book from her lap.

As the black-haired girl arose from the armchair and began towards the girls' dormitory, Hermione added, "And no looking at those wings in bed. I want you sleeping."

After muttering "rats!" under her breath, Athena obediently replied, "Yes, Mum!" before mounting the stairs to the girls' dormitory.


Releasing a yawn, Hermione pushed open the heavy wooden door and entered the apartment-like quarters she and her husband shared. With four and a half rooms, these quarters had been the home of the Snape family for little over a decade, bearing witness to all the joys, pains, and chaos that had arisen throughout the years. Located on the second floor, the comfortable apartment was adopted because Hermione refused to move into Severus' old quarters, claiming that the dungeons were not conducive to starting a family. She found their new living arrangements, featuring a bedroom, sitting room, kitchen, bathroom, and child-sized bedroom, much more accommodating. Her husband, on the other hand, would always prefer the dark, musty solitude of the dungeons.

Weariness blurring her vision, Hermione failed to notice the peculiar neatness of the sitting room, giving no thought to the absence of potion ingredients, vials, books, and MagiColour Sticks. Moving on to the bedroom, she found the room warm and inviting as the soft fireplace glow illuminated the rich ruby tapestry and deep mahogany furniture. Upon the excessively blanketed bed (Hermione had an odd obsession with blankets) sat Severus with head bent in concentration over a large book, greasy black locks falling around his reading glasses.

"Well, Athena's in bed now," she informed him, moving over to the vanity. Snape only responded with a noncommittal grunt as his eyes remained fixed on his book, prompting Hermione to fill the silence with more observations. "She wanted to stay up and pore over those fairy wings though," she said with a laugh. As she began her nightly outpouring of thoughts, the brown-haired witch removed her maroon robes, revealing a crimson blazer paired with a flowy white blouse and a matching pencil skirt. "She's completely fascinated by them. Of course I can't understand what she finds so remarkable, but Potions never has been my absolute favorite study." After draping her robe on a nearby chair, she turned back to her husband and offered him a smile. "Must have been my insufferable Potions master," she said affectionately.

Severus' black eyes continued to scan the old pages of his book indifferently, awarding his wife's fond teasing with a disinterested "hmm."

Turning back to the mirror, Hermione grabbed her magic-imbued comb with a bittersweet smile. It was quite simple to discern that her husband was not in the best of moods, for under normal circumstances that comment would have elicited a snarky response. After a few moments of battling her untamable curls in silence, the comb's magic proving ineffective against her wild locks, she gazed at the wizard in the mirror and gently said, "Severus, I know you're upset that Athena's not a Slytherin."

Releasing a grunt, Snape finally lifted his eyes from the oversized book, gazing at Hermione over his thick-framed reading glasses. "I am not upset," he articulated firmly, a scowl appearing on his face. "I merely believe that her talents and personality are better suited for Slytherin."

Still attempting to win the battle against her curls, Hermione released a sigh. "I know you believe so, but I'm afraid you can't argue with the Sorting Hat…" she commented gently. A few teeth snapped off the comb as it snagged on a nest of tangles. "Though I suppose Harry did," she added thoughtfully after a moment. "But Athena seems happy in Gryffindor."

Returning his gaze to his book, Severus muttered obstinately, "Children seldom know what they truly need."

As her husband fell into one of his customary silent broodings, Hermione attempted to focus all her attention on the catastrophe that was her hair. As another few teeth snapped off the comb, she cursed herself for ever stepping out into the gentle September rain that evening. Discarding the comb's remains, she reached for a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, still trying valiantly to ignore that oh so irritating silence that Severus' sulking produced. His silent displeasure often proved more vexing than an unscratchable itch, prompting Hermione to break the tension with a sigh. "Oh come on, cheer up!" she exclaimed as she eyed Severus in the mirror. "I assure you that our next child will be Slytherin. I'll bribe the Sorting Hat if I need to." Her tone had suddenly lost its aggravation as a mischievous grin stretched across her features.

While Severus' eyes remained fixed on the pages of his book, he responded with an intrigued eyebrow raise. "And how would you accomplish such cunning with your bold Gryffindorish tendencies?" he asked incredulously.

Squeezing a dollop of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion into her hand, Hermione's lips curved into an amused grin. "Using the subtly that a certain Slytherin has taught me well, of course," she responded, her tone bearing the slightest sarcasm. Running her fingers through her tangles, she pondered for a moment. "But honestly, Severus, you know I am cleverer than you give me credit for," she stated, slight defiance in her voice. When her husband made no response, her eyes glistened with a challenge. "Need I name all the instances of my cunning that happened before you became my mentor? Perhaps we should start at the beginning, with Harry's first Quidditch match?"

Turning the page of his book, Snape released a grunt, perceptibly unwilling to delve that far back into history. "You have always shown more astuteness than is typical for Gryffindors, my dear," he responded calmly, rewarding Hermione with eye contact. Seeing that he had appeased his wife, he returned to his reading, a more comfortable silence filling the air. After a few minutes of Hermione accompanying her hair-taming with humming, Snape looked back up from his book. "How is Athena adjusting to the loud, rowdy chaos of Gryffindor?"

Hermione released a laugh at her husband's perception of Gryffindor, but decided to overlook his comment, knowing that no amount of eloquent protests could ever completely remove his prejudice against her house. "Fairly well I suppose, but it's too soon to tell," she replied. Satisfied with the potion's results on her hair, she closed the bottle and set it aside. "I found her alone studying."

Releasing an amused grunt, Severus commented, "She is very much her mother's daughter." Affection had begun to seep back into his tone, signaling the gradual improvement of his mood.

Brown eyes were again beaming as Hermione left the mirror and approached her husband. "But she shares her father's love of potions," she insisted fondly. As she curled up next to him on the bed, she was rewarded with a genuine smile from the very private and complicated man. Resting her head on his shoulder, she was admiring the softness of his new grey jim-jams when her gaze fell curiously to his book. "What are you reading?"

"Medieval Methods of Child Discipline," Snape responded simply, turning the page to reveal a picture of a boy hanging in chains from the ceiling.

Hermione's head shot up in alarm. "Severus, you don't plan to use those methods on Athena!"

Snape released an amused huff as he studied the picture. "Obviously not, she is far too advanced," he answered, his voice tinged with pride. "No, these are for my half-witted students." After scanning an extensive list of effective punishments, he raised his gaze to his curious wife, his black eyes glinting with artfulness. "Some of these methods would have proved very useful on an insufferable know-it-all I once taught…" he commented in a deep, measured voice. "Flogging, for instance."

The mischievous aspect in her husband's demeanor earned a hearty laugh from Hermione. "What do you mean 'would have?'" she challenged, pushing against his arm playfully. "You employ that method from time to time."

"Do I?" A black eyebrow raised in feigned ignorance.

Hermione's grin grew impish as she brought her lips close to his ear. "Oh yes, your famous Flog and Snog," she murmured softly before planting a kiss beneath his ear. As her lips traveled down his neck, depositing feathery, teasing kisses upon his skin, she felt all tension leave the man's sturdy frame as he leaned back against the headboard.

"Well I can see that it hasn't curbed her know-it-all tendencies," he murmured in a husky voice, his body responding brilliantly to his wife's kisses. "You have learned far too much about me." Even as he shook his head, Severus leaned into her touch while the book fell from his hands, unable to resist her well-crafted weapon. The little know-it-all had discovered his weakness long ago and continued to exploit it, drawing from him such vulnerability that he never allowed under any other circumstance. Hermione had truly earned the privilege of viewing this side of him, for she had spent quite a while diligently exploring his likes and dislikes to determine the best method of stoking his fire.

Smiling against his skin, Hermione was very pleased at how effortlessly she could dispel his grumpiness with her tried-and-true technique. Halting the trail of kisses at his jawline, she reached up and slowly removed his reading glasses before planting a kiss on his cheek. "And I'm always eager to learn more, Severus," she whispered.

Now that Hermione's tantalizing kisses had become concentrated elsewhere, Severus was able to claim the dominance that he considered rightfully his. Scooping the woman into his arms as the book fell from his lap, he pushed her back into the pillows with a firm hand, pinning her underneath him as she sunk into the many layers of blankets. Seeing his own desire reflected in her large brown eyes, he leaned in to seize her lips in a heated kiss. Before he could make contact, however, he suddenly broke into a fit of coughing, emitting strange gagging noises that immediately dispelled the fire from Hermione's eyes.

Sitting up, Snape brought his hand to his mouth as he continued to cough. The giggles that bubbled within Hermione were impossible to restrain as she watched her husband forfeit his dignity to remove a short hair-like object from his tongue.

"Infernal cat!" Severus spat as he struggled to discard the fur from his finger. Closely examining the mound of blankets and pillows, he discovered with displeasure that there were innumerable clumps of fur still clinging to the fabric. "Its fur is still everywhere."

After releasing a few more giggles at the way Severus' features contorted with revulsion, Hermione too observed the blankets. "Eppy must not have come today. But no matter, I'm sure she'll come tomorrow," she dismissed with a shrug. While the witch had eventually learned to accept a house-elf's service, Hermione still felt very reluctant to request Eppy's labor, only allowing her to clean when she insisted upon it.

Responding with a disinterested grunt, Snape's eyes returned to his wife as his revulsion was readily replaced by previous, more pleasurable feelings. "Now where were we?" he murmured in a deep, sultry voice as he arms snaked around her back.

Much to Severus' dismay, Hermione scooted out of her husband's grasp with a merry laugh. "Sorry, Severus, I'm afraid your vile hacking has ruined the mood." Before he had the chance to form his protesting groan into words, she had left the bed and was heading towards the wardrobe in the corner of the room. "Besides, I'm quite knackered and I still need to bathe." As she threw open the wardrobe doors and retrieved a nightdress, the sound of rustling blankets caused her to look back and find her husband halfway out of bed. "And no, you cannot join me," she stated resolutely.

"And why ever not?" Snape countered with a raised brow as he paused on the edge of the bed.

"Because of that comment you made about Ron at the Sorting Ceremony," Hermione responded with an impudent huff, folding her arms across her chest. "Keep reading your book on medieval discipline, but know that know-it-alls aren't the only ones in need of correction. Arrogant old professors sometimes need to be punished as well."

While Hermione's tone was quite disdainful, an amused twinkle in her eye told her husband that she was not truly vexed with him. But Severus decided to respect her desire for privacy, knowing that any insisting would result in a genuinely aggravated witch, something that he did not wish to encounter at such a late hour. "As you wish," he relented, returning to recline on the bed. Retrieving the book from the floor, Snape delved back into the wonders of medieval discipline as Hermione left the room.


Fresh morning light streamed through the tall, arching windows of the Great Hall as hundreds of drowsy students filed in for breakfast. From the considerably less crowded High Table, Hermione spotted the black curls of Athena amidst a group of energetic first years that bounced happily past the dragging feet of older students. As Hermione watched her daughter seat herself at the Gryffindor table beside Molly Weasley, the excitement in her daughter's eyes transported the mother back to the unbounded exhilaration she had experienced on her very first day of lessons.

"Athena looks really excited," Neville commented from the seat at Hermione's right. With a large, steaming bowl of porridge before him, the Herbology professor gave his friend a smile before eagerly plunging a spoon into his breakfast.

"Well of course, it's her first day of lessons," Hermione replied cheerfully as she cut into her eggs. "She's been eagerly awaiting this day her whole life."

After downing a swig of pumpkin juice, Neville observed, "I can imagine so since she has practically grown up here."

Professor Granger's wide grin became tinged with the slightest exasperation as she released a chuckle. "Yes, it's been quite a challenge to keep her out of the classrooms during lessons – she's so eager to learn. It was nearly impossible to stop her from sneaking into Slughorn's classes. Why, you remember that incident last year…"

Before Hermione and Neville could reminisce about the time Slughorn purposefully ignored the thud he heard from his supply cupboard, Snape appeared at his customary spot, long black robes billowing as he halted his brisk pace. While his manner seemed slightly more agitated than usual, his face remained indifferent as he took a seat beside his wife.

Discerning that her husband was irked, Hermione began pouring Severus a cup of his favorite pumpkin tea as she curiously observed his face. "Where have you been?" she inquired, offering him the steaming beverage.

"I was detained," Snape answered simply, bringing the cup to his lips. After a few seconds of careful sipping, he placed the cup back on its saucer and elaborated. "Mr. Lupin tried very unsuccessfully to cast 'cantis' on me in the corridor – a ridiculous bit of wand waving that has earned him a month's worth of detention."

While Hermione knew it best to conceal her laughter with a sip of tea when Snape appeared agitated, Neville was not as perceptive and allowed his chuckles to be audible. One poisonous glare from Professor Snape, however, rectified his behavior, sending him anxiously in search for another piece of toast. While many years had passed since Snape had been Neville's teacher, the poor man was still quite uneasy around him, causing him to nearly spill his pumpkin juice as he reached for the plate of toast.

Once Hermione had composed herself enough to not exasperate her husband, she placed her cup down and wiped her mouth. "Isn't a month a bit much?" she asked, a smile still on her lips. "I'm sure Teddy didn't mean any harm, and he didn't even cast the spell."

Crossing his arms resolutely across his chest, Severus simply replied, "His antics have been insupportable these last few years and I will not allow them to continue." After bringing the teacup to his lips and taking a few sips, his shoulders visibly relaxed as he set the cup down. "I have a few dozen barrels of newts that need their eyes removed and I've heard that Peeves recently flooded the boys' restroom on the fifth floor. That should keep him occupied for a while."

Returning her attention to her breakfast, Hermione decided it best not to argue. Much like his old prejudice against Harry, Severus disliked the son of Remus Lupin and seized every opportunity to display that antipathy. Hermione on the other hand saw nothing more than boyish mischief in Teddy and attempted to rein in her husband when his punishments became too excessive. She decided to let this instance go, however, for cleaning excrement-covered toilets paled in comparison to other detentions Snape had tried to assign the Hufflepuff boy.

After taking a bite of her eggs, Hermione raised her gaze to find an identical pair of brown eyes glistening at her. Athena was standing on the other side of the table, casting the Headmistress a nervous glance before returning her attention to her parents.

"Good morning," the eleven year-old girl greeted cheerfully.

As Hermione returned the greeting simultaneously with Severus, she observed her daughter's appearance with particular interest. With long black curls swept partially back out of her eyes and her new uniform donned, Athena looked quite different and a little more grown up than her parents were comfortable with. Nevertheless the sight made both Severus and Hermione proud.

A grin spread across Hermione's face as she noticed with amusement that while the girl wore her Gryffindor sweater with pride, it was slightly too large for her and was covered in cat fur. "How did you sleep last night?" the mother asked her daughter.

"Pretty well," Athena replied with a shrug. Then, turning to Snape she added, "I share a room with Molly and some other girls and none of them snore like you, Father." The girl smiled cheekily at her father as he calmly sipped his tea.

"Do not forget, Athena," Snape began seriously, the teacup clinking against the saucer as it was set down. "Not only can I still ground you, but I now have the power to give you detention."

"Oh, and you wouldn't want that," Hermione emphasized. "He just assigned a month of toilet cleaning to Teddy Lupin."

Athena brushed a stray curl from her eyes and smiled confidently at her father. "I'm not worried," she stated, locking her hands behind her back and teetering on the balls of her feet. The young girl shared her mother's gift of perceiving when her father was truly serious, and by the current curl of his lip she knew him to be simply teasing.

"Of course not, a Snape would never incur detention," Severus stated definitively. After pausing for a moment to obtain a piece of toast, he added, "But you do have some Granger blood in you, which I am afraid may just be enough to land you in detention one of these days."

As her mother rolled her eyes, Athena responded with laughter that was perhaps too high-pitched for some of the teachers' ears. After receiving a few stares from Professor Publius and Madam Pomfrey, the girl quickly curbed her laughter and turned back to her parents. "Anyway, I just want to thank you for the fairy wings, Father," she said in a voice that was softer but still enthusiastic. "I can't wait to use them!"

"They have been sitting in my office for far too long and I figured you would appreciate them," Snape explained, offering his daughter a small but warm smile. "But take care not to waste them on some silly potion. Use them wisely, for fairy wings are difficult to obtain." The smile receded into a straight line as he adopted his typical professor attitude.

"Yes, sir," Athena responded brightly.

Dabbing her lips with a napkin, Hermione said, "Well you should get to eating now. You wouldn't want to be late to your first class, would you?"

Athena's eyes immediately expanded as she glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that breakfast was nearly half over. "No, definitely not to Herbology!" she exclaimed. While she began to turn around briskly, she suddenly paused for a moment, wearing a look of hesitance. Both parents observed the girl curiously until she finally glanced up, blurted, "Good morning, Professor Longbottom!" and scurried away.

Severus and Hermione were in the process of exchanging confused looks when their attention was drawn elsewhere. Athena had not gotten far in her hasty retreat before she collided with Professor Jareth on his way to the staff table. The girl's momentum caused the impact to be quite forceful, knocking her nearly off her feet before the professor steadied her. Wide eyed and red faced, the girl hastily sputtered out an apology, scampering away before the wizard could assure her that he was at fault. Professor Jareth just chuckled and made his way to the High Table for breakfast.

"That was odd," Snape remarked with a scowl. "It seems that Gryffindor has already begun influencing her." His gaze lingered on his daughter for a few moments longer before he turned back to his toast.

"Don't be silly, Severus," Hermione dismissed. Glancing over at Neville, who after returning Athena's greeting had continued eating, Professor Granger confirmed that he was occupied with his porridge before turning back to her husband. "She's just quite taken with Neville," she whispered, leaning closer to Severus. "Most of the students are, you know, but poor Neville seems to be unware of this."

Snape cast an indiscreetly disgusted glance at the Herbology professor, a look that would have certainly disconcerted the young man if he had not been busy wiping stray porridge off his nose. "She is much too young to fill her head with such notions," Severus stated sternly.

"Oh, I'm not worried," Hermione responded with a shrug. "School girl crushes are as common as they are fleeting."

As his wife took another bite of her eggs, Severus observed her intensely, concerned by the casualness of her tone. "Unless she happens to be like her mother," he countered.

Before Hermione could swallow her eggs and respond, hundreds of owls suddenly came soaring in through the open windows, loud hoots intermingling with the students' excited babble. Many of the owls carried large parcels in their talons, a sight that was quite common for the second day of term. Parents of first years were apt to send large care packages to their children until they felt certain their offspring could survive without them. Other parcels most likely contained items that students forgot at home; and by Teddy Lupin's groan at unwrapping a pair of broomstick-covered underwear, one could assume that some items were purposefully forgotten.

As owls continued to swoop down and deliver packages to their masters, the Snape family's tawny owl alighted on the High Table, landing in the remains of Hermione's scrambled eggs. After delivering to his peeved mistress a few letters and a copy of the Daily Prophet, the feathered creature claimed a few bits of egg as compensation and flew off.

Perusing the letters, Hermione found them all addressed to "Professor Severus Snape" and handed them to her husband. As she began contemplating with frustration how it had been two months since she had last heard from Ron or Harry, Professor Granger suddenly noticed that the students' excited babble had been replaced with gasps and distraught exclamations. Sensing distress, she jolted her head up to behold a sea of open Prophets and startled faces. By the time Severus had glanced up from his mail and noticed the commotion, Hermione had already seized the newspaper and was unfolding it.

In the middle of the front page set in a gaudy extra bold typeface were the words "DEATH EATERS ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN!" Below the text was an image so large that it bled off the sides of the page, depicting a very haggard looking Lucius Malfoy.

Throwing her husband a concerned glance, Hermione pulled the paper closer and began reading aloud.

"The Ministry of Magic has confirmed that a breakout occurred at Azkaban last night, resulting in the escape of six Death Eaters. Head Guard Argo Gladwatch reported observing nothing out of the ordinary until this morning when six cells were found empty. While it is unknown how the Death Eaters escaped, there is strong evidence to support that former Ministry employee Lucius Malfoy has assumed a position of leadership among them. Although their motives remain unclear, one can only infer that these malevolent former servants of the Dark Lord are on an errand of evil. While fifteen years have passed since the last Azkaban breakout, the Ministry has again proven incapable of detaining the Death Eaters and ensuring the safety of the wizarding world. Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt has yet to announce what measures will be taken to recapture these criminals, but many feel it critical that the Ministry provide greater protection to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Rumors have been circulating that Malfoy, infamous hater of half-bloods and Muggle-borns, may be on the warpath."


Author's note: Let me clarify that imprisoning Lucius Malfoy is part of my AU. I understand that he was spared imprisonment in the canon for ultimately leaving Voldemort, but in my view his crimes with the Death Eaters may have been too large to pardon. (But I just want to run my fingers through his soft luscious locks!) Then why is Snape not imprisoned as well? Well, my good sir, that shall eventually be revealed…

Yeah I know this chapter was pretty heavy on the Snanger fluff, which may not mean as much because the evolution of their relationship has yet to be explained. But be patient, I will soon begin to delve into their past. And do not worry, things will not always be so "rainbows and unicorns" between them. Excrement is about to make physical contact with a hydro-electric powered oscillating air current distribution device…