CHAPTER NINE

Once the hugging had run its course, Lucius smiled at his guests and clapped his hands together, still marveling at how strong and steady they were. "I believe a celebration is in order! What do you say, Severus? How about a glass of Firewhiskey?"

The Potions Master made a face that Hermione had come to associate with someone asking an exceptionally foolish question in his class. "It's barely ten in the morning."

"But it's been nearly two years since I've been able to stomach anything stronger than watered down tea," the older wizard replied, allowing just the slightest hint of a whimper to seep through his voice. "Surely just a little wouldn't hurt anything?"

"I've been dealing with whiny children for far too long to be impressed by your weak attempt at a guilt trip, Lucius." Severus rolled his eyes at the small pout that formed on his friend's face before conceding with a sigh. "I don't believe, however, that one glass would have any adverse effects."

The blond flashed a mischievous grin and immediately summoned the house-elf that had greeted them in the foyer earlier. A second later, a loud crack echoed through the library, announcing the creature's prompt arrival.

"Master is calling for Popkins?" the little elf asked, her long nose bent awkwardly into the plush carpet.

"I've told you that there's no need to bow, Popkins," Lucius chided kindly, causing Hermione's eyes to widen in surprise. If Dobby's stories were to be believed, and the former president of S.P.E.W. knew that they were, things had certainly changed at Malfoy Manor.

The elf stood obediently and her large eyes nearly popped out of their wrinkly sockets when she saw the wizard before her. "Master!" she squeaked, obviously overcome with joy. "You is being handsome again!"

Lucius beamed and flipped his silky hair over his shoulder, eliciting a snort from the raven-haired man behind him. "Yes, it seems I've been completely healed," he said, ignoring the professor's tactlessness. "Thanks to our guests."

The small servant bounced up and down on her crooked little toes. "The elves is feeling the magic but Popkins is not knowing that Master is being made better!"

She stepped closer to Lucius, held up a gnarled hand, and began to wave it through the air directly in front of the wizard as a gentle humming noise issued from her throat. After a moment, her smile grew even wider. "Master Snape and the Miss is doing a very good job!"

Hermione frowned at the little creature despite the compliment, wondering how she was able to reach such a conclusion. She knew that house-elves possessed a different type of magic and could, in instances of extreme need, be quite powerful, but she had never read anything about elves having healing or diagnostic abilities.

"Yes, I have to agree," Lucius replied before the studious witch could interrupt. "I was hoping that you could find some Firewhiskey for the four of us. We have a lot to celebrate!"

The elf nodded enthusiastically and said, "Yes, Master. Popkins is being right back!" before bowing deeply and Disapparating.

As they waited for Popkins' return, Hermione's burgeoning curiosity reared its head. "Does she have diagnostic powers? I didn't know that house-elves had that ability."

Lucius spun around to face the inquisitive girl and grinned at the spark of interest in her eyes. "In normal circumstances, they don't. Popkins, however, is able to read both my physical and magical auras, so her assessment is most assuredly correct."

Her brow knitted as she tried to compare his answer to what she already knew about Elfin Magic. "Why is she able to do that?" she asked when no reasonable conclusion came to mind.

It was Snape that spoke up this time, using his dry teaching voice to respond to her question. "That particular house-elf is bound to Lucius personally, not just the house or the family as a whole. Due to that unusual connection, she has the ability to evaluate his condition and provide limited medical assistance."

His answer, though straightforward and precise, left Hermione even more confused but before she could press him further, the elf in question Apparated back into the library, this time bearing a silver tray with four tumblers of Ogden's finest.

"Ah, Popkins! Wonderful, wonderful!" the eldest Malfoy exclaimed happily as he approached the elf and began to pass the glasses amongst Draco and their guests.

"Popkins is telling Nimsy and Timsy that Master is being healed. They is being very excited!" she squeaked.

Lucius smiled again. "Very good. I'd like for the three of you to see to the opening of all the windows and relighting the house. We've been in the dark long enough." To illustrate his point, the wizard flicked his wand and turned the numerous lamps in the library on full power. "I'd also like you to bring down the large mirror from my chambers."

"Yes, sir. Popkins is being right back." In another clap of thunder, she was gone again.

The Lord of the Manor turned back to his guests and smiled at each of them in turn — his only son, his oldest friend, and the girl that he had harshly misjudged. He raised the glass in his hand. "I'd like to propose a toast. To old friends and new, and to miracles that we never thought would happen."

Hermione, who refused to cry again in front of the Slytherin men, clinked her glass with theirs and took a cautious sip of the amber liquid, grimacing slightly as it burnt its way down her throat. She had never cared for Firewhiskey or any alcohol, outside of the occasional sip of wine, but if she hoped to prove her maturity to a certain dark-haired wizard this weekend, refusing the beverage or sputtering from its effects wasn't the way of going about it.

By the time the men's tumblers were empty, Popkins had reappeared, levitating a huge silver frame through the doorway. When the mirror was turned around, the Muggle-born was surprised to see that the surface was pitch-black, just like the "portrait" she had been so intrigued by earlier. The faint memory of visiting an elderly neighbor's home while they sat Shivah flitted through her mind, and suddenly it all made sense. As an overly-curious six-year-old, she had been fascinated by the veiled mirrors throughout the house of mourning. Apparently, the magically-voided ones here had served a similar purpose.

Lucius thanked the house-elf and dismissed her and the whiskey glasses before pointing his wand at the inky surface and muttering a quick incantation. The embellished frame glowed a silvery-blue for a moment until the magic ward lifted and revealed the reflection of the man in front of it.

"As devilishly handsome as always," a sleepy feminine voiced issued from the mirror as if it had just woken up from a long nap.

Snape snorted again but the blond ignored him and grinned brightly at the mirror as he studied his rejuvenated features from every angle. "Gods, Severus. This is amazing!"

While the Slytherin became engrossed in his reflection, Hermione quietly slipped away from the group, allowing her earlier instincts to lead her to the nearest bookshelf. She'd be kicking herself later on if she missed this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to peruse such a vast library.

From his position near the fire, Severus watched the little know-it-all immerse herself amongst the towering wall of books and after a few moments of talking with his godson decided to join her.

"Lucius will know who's to blame should any of them go missing," he murmured from behind her, purposely trying to startle the girl again.

Resisting the urge to jump at the unexpected distraction, Hermione turned to the stealthy wizard and grinned. "It really is an impressive collection."

He nodded and ran his fingertips over a few of the spines, unknowingly mimicking one of her frequent habits. "The Malfoys have an impressive wealth," he replied. "This is one of their wiser investments, as opposed to those bloody birds outside." She giggled and turned back to the leather-bound tomes.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, the girl's laughter caught the attention of Draco, who was surprised to see the pair standing so close together again, looking suspiciously cozy, too. The more he saw the two of them together, especially outside of the classroom, the more he began to question the nature of their relationship. Gryffindors, as a rule, loathed Severus, and for good reason — the man was a right bastard to them. He had been particularly nasty to Granger for as long as the Head Boy could remember, increasingly more so this year, yet there she stood, laughing and smiling at the wizard like a complete fool. And his godfather, who, by all rights, shouldn't be willingly within a twenty-foot range of his most annoying student, was gazing back at the girl, looking for all the world like he wanted to do something utterly ridiculous, like stroke the curly disaster she called hair. There had to be more to the situation than either of their vague excuses had alluded to.

"I wanted to thank you, Miss Granger, for accepting Lucius' apology. It was quite noble of you," Severus commented quietly, his dark eyes darting to the shelves in front of him to keep himself from staring too long at the petite witch. Why did he feel so nervous all of a sudden?

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat as she turned to the wizard again. "I think noble is a bit of an overstatement. It was easy to see that he's sincere. Accepting his apology was the only decent thing to do."

Severus met her gaze, for once admiring those traits which made her distinctively Gryffindor instead of detesting them. "There aren't many who would be so willing to forgive."

The Head Girl had the odd feeling that he was referring to himself as much as his fair-haired friend and she responded to both without hesitation. "Everyone deserves a second chance, Professor. More often than not, it's worth it."

An odd emotion flashed through his ebony eyes but before he could say anything else, Lucius called his name from across the room. Hermione watched in confusion as the normally composed professor spun around, looking as if he had just been caught doing something illicit rather than merely talking with a student. As he walked away without another word, she had to wonder what his reaction said about his state of mind.

"Will you be staying for lunch, Severus?" Lucius asked from his preening stance in front the mirror once the other wizard had joined him.

Snape nodded. "I think it'd be wise to monitor you for a while to make sure that there aren't any residual side effects or seizures. That is, if you don't mind us being here?"

"Of course not. It's been ages since I've had company, though I don't think much monitoring will be necessary. I feel marvelous. Better than I have in years!"

As a house-elf was summoned to insure that a suitable meal would be prepared, Draco went to harass the Muggle-born witch, who was steadily moving further along the endless shelves. Messing with her would have to be more entertaining than watching his father primp and perhaps she'd even let something slip about Snape if he got her flustered enough. Smiling devilishly, he sidled up beside her. "I'll be checking your person for suspicious, book-sized lumps when we leave, Granger."

Hermione turned to him with an amused scowl. "Why is it that everyone thinks my love of the written word would cause me to resort to thievery?"

"It probably has something to do with the lustful gleam in your eye," he whispered conspiratorially, "or the hint of drool at the corner of your mouth."

Even though she knew he was just teasing, her hand unconsciously rose to wipe her cheek, causing the boy's smirk to deepen. She scowled and dropped her hand.

"You're really lucky to have grown up with all of this knowledge at your disposal, Draco. No wonder you've got the second highest grades in the school," she teased in kind. Two could play at this game and she had learned from the best.

Draco tipped his head in response to her comeback but figured it'd be best to stay on the more friendly side of the fence — keep your enemies closer and whatnot. "Actually, I wasn't allowed to touch a single book in here until after my first year of Hogwarts. I had my own miniature library upstairs, though, with more child-friendly volumes. Beedle the Bard and the like."

Hermione grinned, feeling a little more comfortable around the Slytherin now that she knew that he could handle a little mockery. "That makes sense. You were probably a rotten, destructive little kid."

His sarcastic reply, which was sure to involve a monstrous description of her own frizzy-haired childhood, was cut off by the boy's father speaking loud enough to garner everyone's attention. "I believe I fancy a walk outdoors before we eat. I haven't seen the garden in ages."

"That sounds lovely!" the Head Girl replied enthusiastically, and for more reasons than simply winning the current conversation with her classmate. She had been eager to explore the beautiful grounds surrounding the mansion ever since she had arrived and didn't hesitate in telling the Lord of the Manor so.

Lucius turned to the witch with a bright smile and gallantly offered his arm. "Shall we, then, Miss Granger?"

"Only if you stop calling me 'Miss Granger'." She purposely kept her gaze from falling anywhere near the Potions Master as she crossed the library, yet she couldn't help but tease him a bit. "Makes me feel like I'm about to receive detention."

The blond smirked. "Can't have that now, can we?" He tucked her small hand into the crook of his arm. "You know, I've always liked the name Hermione. It has a certain theatrical ring to it."

And with that, the pair of them started towards the exit, arm-in-arm, like they had never been enemies at all.

"Am I the only one that finds this strange?" Draco asked, looking up at his godfather questioningly. "Aren't they supposed to hate the very sight of each other?"

Severus' eyes were narrowed on the couple as they passed through the large double doors and disappeared. Something about their carefree discourse had made his chest constrict and he wasn't altogether sure why. "I suppose it's not any stranger than the rest of the morning has been."

The girl's tinkling laughter suddenly floated through from the corridor and filled the now-scowling wizard with the sudden urgency to find out what was so bloody funny. He practically sprinted away in order to catch up with the pair.

Still confused as to when, exactly, the whole house had gone mad, the Head Boy shook his head and trailed after the professor's unusually quick footsteps.

Once the reunited group had exited the manor, Lucius led them through an ivy-covered archway that opened into the most amazing garden Hermione had ever seen. Plants, bushes, trees, and flowers of every variety imaginable seem to stretch out before her like a modern-day Garden of Eden. Faeries and multi-colored butterflies flitted through the fragrant air, dancing to the sound of birds singing in the distance.

As awe-inspiring as the scene was, though, the Gryffindor's first question was surprisingly completely unrelated to her surroundings. "What did the transformation feel like, Lucius?"

"Incredibly odd, actually," he replied as he led her through the foliage. "As soon as I swallowed the potion, everything went black. I could hear everyone talking around me — your startled declaration that I wasn't breathing and Severus' rather harsh correction — but it sounded as if you were at the end of a very long, dark tunnel. I couldn't see or feel anything. In fact, I'm not entirely sure that I was even conscious. Then all at once, my senses came back to me, like someone had lifted the veil. I didn't realize that anything had actually changed until I heard my own voice."

"So, it was like you were in some sort of suspended animation throughout the whole thing?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the Potions Master, hoping he was paying attention to their discussion. After receiving a slight nod of confirmation, she turned back to the elder Malfoy. "That's really fascinating."

"Mmm... And now I feel like a teenager again! Free from the pain, free from the Dark Lord." He released her arm and loped down the serpentine path in front of them, tapping his silver-tipped cane against the pavers. "It's a glorious feeling!"

Hermione and Draco both laughed out loud at the older man's antics while Snape's expression was one of mingled exasperation and amusement. "You're supposed to be convalescing, Lucius, not skipping around like a blasted schoolgirl!"

"I take offense to that, Professor," the witch said with a grin as she fell into step between him and Draco. "I happen to be a schoolgirl and not only have I not skipped in many years; I don't think that I've ever done it with that much flamboyance." She gestured towards the pure-blood, who proved her point by practically pirouetting across the stone, his hair shining in the sunlight as it spun with his movement.

"You've never been a normal schoolgirl, Miss Granger. Not as long as I've known you, at least."

As it always was with him, Hermione couldn't quite determine if his words were meant as a compliment or an insult. This time, however, she decided to ask for clarification instead of swallowing the question. How was she ever to understand the dubious wizard otherwise? She glanced up at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Severus looked down at the girl and could feel the corners of his mouth twitch. If she was expecting a Slytherin to English translation, she was sadly mistaken. "It simply means that I've had the great misfortune to teach hundreds of schoolgirls over the years and can safely say that you are one of a kind. Take that as you will."

Stunned, she tried to look up at him again while continuing to walk and hopefully not make a fool of herself. His black eyes glittered in the sun. Was he actually flirting with her? Surely not. Surely her delusional mind was just playing tricks on her. His so-called clarification could have just as easily implied that she was some sort of freak. Still, there had been a vague ring of approval in his tone. She let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm just going to assume that that was a compliment."

The wizard had the nerve to smirk. "As I said, take it as you will."

Beside them, Draco, who had been playing close attention to their exchange, narrowed his pale eyes on the stone beneath him. Suspicions confirmed, as far as he was concerned. He was familiar enough with his godfather's behavior and questionable methods of praise to know that something major had to be going on in order for him to pay the Muggle-born that type of compliment. She might not have seen it for what it was, but he certainly did.

"Is that black hellebore?" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, pointing to a plant low to the ground on the right side of the walkway. She crossed behind the professor for a better look and both wizards stopped to watch her crouch down before the stunted little plant. "I've never seen black hellebore growing naturally." She looked up at the Potions Master questioningly. "I thought only the green variety grew in England. Isn't this species indigenous to Asia Minor?"

Snape nodded at his astute little protégé. "You'll find a great number of plants in these gardens that aren't native to this country. Lucius has spared no expense to accumulate such a collection and many of these varieties only grow here because of extensive habitat-imitation charms."

She stood up and scanned the flower beds in front of her, recognizing several plants from her Potions research that wouldn't normally thrive in the dreary British climate. "Does Mr. Malfoy brew or is this merely further indulgences of his exotic taste?"

Severus snorted. "No, he's never had much of an interest in Potions, except when they benefited him, of course. These gardens belonged to Narcissa. She enjoyed brewing and Lucius indulged her." A small sigh escaped him. "These days their main purpose is only aesthetic appeal, I'm afraid, though I do occasionally obtain ingredients here when the local apothecary's supplies are less than satisfactory."

"Don't forget the entertainment value," Draco added. "There's a huge Devil's Snare behind the house that tries to attack the peacocks from time to time. It's quite amusing."

Hermione laughed and slipped back into her place between the two men, finding herself growing more comfortable there with every passing breath. When she glanced up, however, the fourth member of their little group was nowhere to be seen.

"Where'd he go?" she asked, standing on her tiptoes to peer over the hedges.

Her classmate looked around and shrugged slightly. "Skipped off somewhere, apparently," he replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'll go find him."

To fill the awkward silence that was left after the blond had sauntered away, Severus began to point out the more abstract plant life amongst the beds that they passed, engaging his N.E.W.T. level student in a conversation of their uses in his field. He wasn't let down by her level of intelligence, either. Not only did she retain every bit of information he had ever given her in class but she also knew a vast amount about topics that had never been taught during her time at Hogwarts. It was quite obvious by her eager participation in the discussion that she truly enjoyed the branch of magic that was so close to his own heart and had spent a great deal of time studying it outside of his tutelage. Those two facts not only gave him a rare feeling of pride but also validated several of his recent decisions, including bringing her here.


As Draco walked away, part of him wondered what his godfather and the Gryffindor Muggle-born would talk about in his absence. The rest of him was afraid to even think about it. As he saw it, there were only two possible explanations for their behavior, or more specifically, Severus' behavior, today. Either his godfather had a thing for the bushy-haired know-it-all and she was merely playing along to strengthen her grades in his class or some such objective or they really did fancy each other. Not knowing enough about the girl that he had spent his life trying to belittle, Draco really couldn't tell which explanation was more plausible and quite frankly, the thought of either of them turned the boy's stomach.

Draco wondered what would be the easiest way to uncover the truth behind whatever game they were playing. He knew that it was pointless to ask his godfather about it; he had tried that avenue before, only to be shot down with a concise, reasonably believable excuse. If he were to broach the subject again with the former spy, his reception was sure to be far less hospitable. He'd, therefore, have to turn his Slytherin tactics to the feminine half of the equation instead. Though she had feigned innocence once before, he felt more confident in his abilities to guile the truth out of her than the tight-lipped wizard.

When the Seeker passed through an opening in the yew hedges, he finally spotted the elusive Lord of the Manor sitting on a stone bench in front of the larger of two water fountains on the property, staring pensively into the pool at the statue's base. Afraid that something had gone terribly wrong, all other thought flew from his mind as Draco hastened his pace. "Father? What's the matter? What happened? Should I go fetch Severus?"

Lucius looked up to see his son sprinting towards him and he smiled. "I'm fine, little Dragon," he replied, watching the boy's stance relax in response to the childhood moniker. "Come sit with me for a moment."

The younger wizard quickly crossed the distance to the bench and sat before looking at his father questioningly. The redness in the older man's gray-blue eyes caused his diminishing worry to swell again but he held his tongue. His place in the Malfoy hierarchy was to be silent and obedient. Though his mother had always allowed him to speak to his mind, he had never enjoyed such leniency with his father. Before his illness, the man had been a strict disciplinarian, leading by the pure-blood code of conduct that had been ingrained into him as a child and Draco had little doubt that that quality had been restored along with everything else.

"My emotions have quite run away with me today," Lucius apologized quietly, still staring into the rippling water. "I haven't been out here since your mother's death and now that I am... I find that her spirit still permeates every inch of this place."

Draco slowly let out the breath he'd been holding since he sat down. Nothing was wrong. Nothing had happened to negate the potion's success. The man was simply missing his wife. His parents had had a good marriage and though they didn't often express it outside of the manor, they had loved each other very much. It was understandable that his father would still be grieving the loss.

"I really wish she could've been here today," the older man murmured, "to see me like this."

"Me too."

"It would've been quite humorous to see Severus put her in a Full Body-Bind just to keep her from tackling him," Lucius remarked, trying to shake off his sudden melancholy.

Draco chuckled, knowing that that was exactly what would've happened. His mother, though normally the composed, dignified woman that a pure-blood witch was supposed to be, had had the tendency to get overly excited about things and his godfather, a man who strongly disliked being touched, had often been the victim of her enthusiasm. The day her only son had received his letter from Hogwarts, for example, Severus had tied the witch to an armchair after she had smothered his face in ruby-red kisses and had refused to release her until Lucius got home from the Ministry. Draco had nearly wet himself laughing that day.

"I'd also be interested in hearing her opinions of Miss Granger," Lucius added. "No doubt she would've been quite fond of the girl."

"Mother always was one for pet projects," the boy replied, sarcasm lacing his tone.

The patriarch chuckled, the rich sound of his laughter dancing around them both, a vivid reminder of what had transpired that morning. "That she was." He stood up and dusted off the seat of his robes. "And what has become of Severus and our dear Gryffindor visitor?"

"Merlin only knows," Draco replied, mimicking his father's actions and standing up beside him. "I wouldn't be surprised if they were off snogging in the rose bushes."

"What?" Lucius exclaimed, spinning around to face his son and causing his hair to whip across his face. "Surely you're jesting!"

The younger blond snorted. "Yes, I'm kidding, but the idea isn't completely unfathomable considering their behavior lately."

"What kind of behavior? Severus would sooner poison himself than consort with a student."

With a chuckle that sounded very much like his father's, Draco led the way back to where he had left their guests, filling his father in on the strange occurrences that he'd witnessed over the past few weeks and, more importantly, that morning. He was pretty sure that no one knew Snape as well as his father did and adding that type of intimate knowledge along with an additional Slytherin mind could prove immensely helpful in coercing the truth out of them.

By the time the two Malfoy men came across the pair in question, who happened to be crouched mere inches from each other, studying a rare patch of red-tipped fluxweed, Lucius found himself feeling both amused with the situation and suspicious of his friend's recent conduct. He simply couldn't believe that the emotionally-barren former spy would be trying to court the seemingly innocent little Gryffindor. He had to admit, though, that this degree of intimacy with a student, any student, was completely out of character. It appeared that a serious discussion between the two old friends was long overdue.

Once the father and son team were able to drag the witch and wizard away from their botany discussion, Lucius linked arms with the young Muggle-born again and led the foursome back into the manor. It was nearly noon and his rejuvenated digestive system suddenly had him famished.

Now that the house was properly lit and bright sunshine streamed through the open windows, Hermione was finally able to appreciate the full scope of the mansion's beauty. The cold, empty feeling was gone, replaced by warm furnishings that weren't the least bit flashy or pretentious. Each room seemed to quietly urge its visitors to curl up in a cozy chair and enjoy a nice cup of tea. In fact, if it wasn't for the nosey and occasionally sneering portraits on the walls, she could almost believe that they were in her parent's house, even if Malfoy Manor was easily three times the size of the Grangers' modest home. It was quite a surprising discovery.

After leading the miniature parade through several rooms, Lucius pushed open a large set of wooden doors to reveal the family's dining room. The elongated chamber was smaller than the Great Hall at Hogwarts but far bigger than any other dining room Hermione had ever been in. The room's main feature was, of course, the enormous table running the length of the space. Made of a dark wood polished to a high gloss and resting on intricately carved legs, the table could have comfortably sat three dozen people or more. Instead of the gas lamps that lit the rest of the house, only sunlight illuminated the dining room during the day, giving it a casual air despite its magnitude. Hermione couldn't help but imagine how lovely it must look at night with the candlelight from the chandeliers dancing across the dark, glassy surface of the table.

Lucius led the curly-haired girl down to the far end of the room before taking his place at the head of the table. Severus immediately sat on his friend's left and Draco on his father's right, leaving her to take the chair next to her classmate.

Four silver-lidded plates had already been laid out, along with an assortment of beverages. Following the patriarch's lead, the group uncovered their plates and Hermione was more than pleased with the light selection of soup and salad. After the tumultuous morning they had had, she didn't think she'd be able to handle anything too heavy or rich.

"So how do you like Malfoy Manor, Hermione?" Lucius asked conversationally.

She looked up and smiled politely at the handsome aristocrat. "Your home is beautiful. To be perfectly honest, though, it's not at all what I was expecting."

"Were you anticipating torture chambers and rooms full of Dark artifacts?" he asked with an amused grin.

Hermione chuckled. "Maybe a little."

"An understandable misconception."

"I think it's the lack of silver and green that's the most surprising, though."

Both Malfoys smirked but it was Snape who first questioned her thinking. "Do you honestly believe that all Slytherins are mandated to immerse themselves in only their house colors? Surely you wouldn't go to a Hufflepuff's home and expect to find only yellow and black?"

Her cheeks blushed lightly as she met his gaze. "I think that's the general belief amongst my housemates but obviously," she waved her hand at the dining room's rich golden walls and beautiful dark wood furnishings, "we were hopelessly off the mark."

"Indeed," the wizard agreed snidely. "Even my own chambers, which were once inhabited by Salazar Slytherin himself, have more variety than that."

Hermione shrugged and tried her best not to let her thoughts stray at the mention of his chambers. "I suppose it comes from spending so much time in Gryffindor Tower, which is nothing if not house-centric." She glanced at her fellow seventh-year. "I assume that the Slytherin dorms are much the same, right?"

Draco nodded. "Plus, we have all that green lighting from being under the lake — adds a nice eerie touch."

The Head Girl grinned, remembering that description from Harry and Ron's excursion into the dungeon common room in their second year. "I honestly haven't been in enough wizarding homes to know what to expect. Grimmauld Place had its fair share of snake motifs and Slytherin pride and it's nearly impossible to determine any theme what so ever amongst the Burrow's chaos. I guess the fact that Remus' quarters at Hogwarts aren't swathed in red and gold should have tipped me off, though he's never been as biased as some of the other professors." She met Snape's eyes again and was met by a completely unexpected expression. Was that anger swirling in those deep black currents?

"And why, pray tell, are you familiar with Lupin's private chambers?" he very nearly growled.

Spurred by his godfather's obvious ire, Draco turned to gawk the witch. Was she shagging their Defense teacher too? Good gods, what the hell was going on?

The color on Hermione's cheeks deepened as she realized what they must be thinking. "It's definitely not how sounds," she said defensively, fidgeting uneasily under the three sets of suspicious eyes trained on her. "Professor Lupin is practically Harry's godfather now that Siri—" Out the corner of her eye she saw Lucius blanch at the mention of the dead Animagus' name and she quickly backpedaled. "Harry, Ron, and I have become good friends with Remus. The three of us visit him regularly in his study. It's all perfectly harmless."

Having no reason to doubt her, Lucius took the girl's stuttered explanation at face value and gave her an encouraging smile before glancing at his former comrade in arms, who was still glaring daggers across the table. If the jealousy evident in the wizard's expression was anything to go by, it appeared that Draco's earlier accusations had some merit.

The blond cleared his throat and attempted to steer the conversation back into friendly waters. Harry Potter, Sirius Black, and the Order's werewolf were not topics the former Death Eater felt particularly comfortable discussing amongst such a diversified group. Far too much unpleasant history there. "The manor was quite dark and ominous when I inherited it from my grandfather, more the type of stereotypical pure-blood style you were probably expecting, Hermione."

Hearing her name, she peeled her eyes from the professor's intense stare. She still wasn't quite sure what to make of his reaction. Was he angry because Remus had let students into his rooms? Or because she had been one of those students? Unable to answer that, she turned her focus back to Malfoy and her lunch.

"Once Narcissa and I were married," the wizard continued, "she redecorated the entire house. She had always complained that the Slytherin colors were too dark and depressing, even when we were in school, so she quite enjoyed banishing them from here." He paused to look around the dining room as memories of his beloved wife painting their new home rushed through his mind. "The only things she couldn't get rid of were the Malfoy family portraits. They proved impossible to remove."

A sudden ghostly echo of Sirius' mother shouting insults throughout Grimmauld Place rang through her ears and caused her eyes to dart back to the man across from her. Hermione didn't think she'd ever forget the day that the normally unflappable Potions professor assaulted Mrs. Black's frame with nearly a dozen different curses after she had called him a "greasy, half-blooded coward". She had never seen the Death-Eater-turned-spy so furious and though the portrait hadn't sustained any lasting damage from his hexes, the vile old woman had never insulted him again.

"You're quite lucky on that account, Severus," Lucius said, keeping up the conversation if only to amuse himself. "All of your ancestors are confined to that one chamber at Prince Estates."

The witch glanced across the table again, this time in surprise. No one had ever told her that the professor had a home outside of Hogwarts. As far as she knew, he lived in the dungeons year-round, even when the school was closed. Prince Estates, hmm? That sounded promising.

"Thank Merlin for that," Snape replied, ignoring the Head Girl's expression. "I would've burnt the place down years ago if I had to listen to their infernal gossiping all the time. I get enough of that at the castle. Bloody paintings are a nuisance."

"At least they're silenced here."

"Oh! I was wondering why none of them had shouted at me yet," Hermione chimed in, having only just understood that particular puzzle. "I just figured they were in shock from seeing a Muggle-born in their midst."

Lucius chuckled, relieved by the girl's cavalier attitude towards his family's prejudices. During his imposed isolation over the past year and a half, the pure-blood wizard had done a great deal of soul searching and had finally realized how nonsensical the whole notion of blood status was and how ridiculous he had been for believing in it. Being cursed within an inch of his life by the very man he had sworn allegiance to had had a great deal to do with this epiphany. When Snape told him that it had been Granger, a Muggle-born and elite member of the Golden Trio, that had discovered the final element of the Cruciatus potion, gaining her forgiveness had been foremost on his mind.

"Yes, I'm sure they would have a whole host of nasty things to say to you, my dear," he replied. "Thankfully, Narcissa placed a permanent Silencing Charm on them ages ago, even before Draco was born. They were a great bunch of bores anyway."

"Well, judging by the amazing gardens and what I've seen of the house so far, your wife had exquisite taste," she said, figuring that a compliment wouldn't go amiss with the wizard who obviously doted on the late witch.

Lucius beamed, the girl's words had hit their mark. "Yes, she certainly did. She chose me after all, didn't she?" He flipped his silky, golden locks over his shoulder again, a vain gesture that Hermione was starting to recognize as a trademark of the eldest Malfoy.

Snape snorted. "I still marvel at that spectacular lapse in judgment on her part."

The older wizard sneered in his friend's direction before turning back to his feminine guest with a smile. "Perhaps Draco can be persuaded into giving you a proper tour after lunch."

"I'd really like that," she replied, flashing a solicitous smile towards her classmate.

The Seeker glanced up from his soup to his father and then to the grinning witch beside him. He rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm but was silently pleased with the idea. The guise of a tour would give him just the opportunity he needed to grill the Gryffindor away from his godfather and the two morons that seemed to be permanently attached to her side at school. "I suppose I could handle that," he drawled.

"Wonderful! Then that will give us old men a chance to talk," Lucius said, slapping Snape on the shoulder. Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the look of indignation on the professor's face.

"Need I remind you, Lucius, that while you may have reached old age, I'm still several years your junior."

The blond smirked. "Ah, yes, but thanks to that glorious little elixir of yours, I'm vastly better looking once again."

Another derisive snort issued from the dark-haired wizard. "It seems that it restored you over-inflated ego as well."

"That credit goes to you as well, dear friend. You're nothing if not a gifted Potions Master."

"Speaking of credit, I need to get your impressions of said potion down on paper," Snape said, putting an end to the playful argument. "Once it's registered, I'm sure I'll be inundated with solicitations to publish the findings."

Lucius nodded. "Then you and I will work on your future fifteen minutes of fame whilst the young people amuse themselves."

Severus tipped his head in acceptance and Hermione smiled into her pumpkin juice. Keeping up with their banter was like watching a Muggle tennis match, only far more amusing, and she was really enjoying herself. Unfortunately, she never saw the foul ball making a beeline for her head, hell bent on irreversibly complicating her day.