Just so you all know, the story should be completely posted by September!

Harry and Hermione walked downstairs in stony silence. He knew she was glaring daggers at him, but he felt like he'd been through enough already today. All he wanted to do now was relax in his kitchen with some of Snape's chocolate chip cookies.

Unfortunately for Harry, the kitchen was already occupied.

"It just isn't coming off!" Ron was saying to Draco Malfoy, who was covered in a thin layer of sticky mint-green goo. "What did you two put in this?"

"Do you need some help?" Hermione walked over and examined the goo. "Urgh! This smells like smoke! What was this supposed to be?"

"The Elixir of Life," Malfoy muttered, "obviously. Where's my aunt?"

"She left," Harry said, sliding resignedly into the chair across from Malfoy. "Why do you even care? I thought she was a blood traitor."

"She's my aunt, Potter. Didn't those Muggles ever teach you anything about family?" Harry thought it was a bit rich for Malfoy to be drawling superiorly when he was covered in potion. "Anyway, now's not exactly the time to be picky. Pansy laughed in my face the last time I tried to talk to her."

Harry raised his eyebrows, not because he thought Pansy was a decent human being, but because this was the longest conversation he'd had without Malfoy insulting him.

"And of course, dear old Daphne's still trying to set me up with her sister—damn it, Granger, that's my ear—I've been saying no for nearly five years now; you'd think she'd get the hint." Hermione, Ron, and Harry all exchanged awkward looks. They weren't exactly used to gossiping with Malfoy. "And what kind of name is 'Astoria' anyway?"

Harry really didn't know and really didn't want to answer. Instead, he changed the topic to the first thing on his mind. "So, er, Hermione, why did you need to talk to McGonagall?"

Hermione smiled brightly as she managed to remove a few square inches of goo. "Do you remember Léonard Dubois?" Harry didn't, and, from the blank look on his face, neither did Ron. "He works for Le Ministère français de la Magie; he writes legislation regarding the rights of magical non-humans. He's really progressive." Harry wasn't sure what this meant, but obviously Hermione thought it was a good thing. She had stopped cleaning Malfoy and was staring off rather dreamily. "McGonagall wrote to him to see if I could work with him—oh Ron, don't give me that look, you could come too!" Ron had given her a very pouty look. "Not that I think anything will come from it, of course. I'm sure he's a very busy man."

Another silence settled over the table, and Harry could hear himself think again. Hermione and Ron had been spending a lot of time together, but that was normal, right? And it was normal for her to invite him to France, wasn't it? It wasn't like they were… "Are you two engaged?" he asked abruptly.

Hermione dropped her wand.

"Engaged?" she asked with a strange, high laugh. "You're joking, right? Of course you are. Why would you even say that? There's no way we'd be engaged. That's hilarious, Harry." She let out another odd laugh. Ron was staring at her.

"I don't see what's so funny," he grumbled. "I think I'd make a good husband."

"Well, it's not about that Ron. You'd make a great husband—not that I want to get married; I don't want to get married. We're too young, a-a-and we don't have jobs." Hermione was turning very pink.

"My parents were only eighteen when they got married."

"Times have changed, Ron."

"Ahem." Harry nearly jumped out of his chair. Snape was standing in kitchen's entryway. Ron took one look at him, cast a quick glare at Hermione, and stormed out, muttering something about needing a drink. "I don't mean to interrupt this little lovers' spat, but I need to know if…" They never found out what Snape wanted; the man had met eyes with Malfoy.

"Y-y-you're dead," Malfoy gasped as he started moving his seat backwards.

"I have had this conversation too many times today," Snape said. He leaned in, examining Malfoy. "What on earth are you covered in?"

"The Elixir of Life," Malfoy muttered much less sarcastically than he had before. In fact, the parts of his face that weren't green were turning bright red, while his eyes, Harry noticed, glittered with something he couldn't quite recognize.

"I do hope you don't plan on passing these exams," Snape said with an impressively withering look.

Malfoy didn't say anything; he just kept his gaze on Snape, the same odd glint in his eye. "You're really Severus Snape?"

Snape sighed and rolled his eyes. "Explain it to him, Potter. He's dense."

It took Harry nearly ten minutes to retell Snape's story; by the time he'd finished, the Potion had dried and Hermione was cracking it off onto the floor. Malfoy didn't seem to notice; he had been focusing raptly through the entire tale.

"Interesting," was all he said.

A few minutes later, after Malfoy had disapparated and Snape had retreated to his room, Hermione turned to Harry and asked, "What on earth was that all about?"

"What?"

"You didn't notice the way Malfoy looked?" She shook her head, "Honestly, Harry." She seemed to be saying that a lot these days.

"No, I didn't," he said shortly. "Hey, are you really not going to marry Ron?"

"Harry, I'm not going to rush into anything and neither should you! My parents married young and look what happened to them."

"They're dentists."

"Exactly."

The following two weeks were some of the most normal of Harry's life. Ron had been quick to make amends with Hermione, and he hadn't brought up marriage again. McGonagall had helpfully relocated the N.E.W.T. classes to Neville's flat, which led to a quick lesson in expansion charms after several spells had ricocheted off the low ceiling and tight walls. The tests were approaching faster than Harry had fathomed possible, and more nights than not he, Ron, and Hermione would gather in the kitchen to study. It was almost like being back at Hogwarts, especially when Snape would hover over their work and offer unwanted criticism.

Harry had trouble accepting that everything was as stable as it was. Andromeda seemed to have kept quiet about Snape, and Ron had yet to realize he was there. Ginny was even less physical when she came over, saying that it wasn't fun if they weren't going to get in trouble.

When Harry protested, "but I think it's fun," she just laughed.

Because his life had been so ordinary lately, Harry very strongly believed that when Ron shook him awake one Saturday morning, he was rousing him from some long sleep.

"What?" he mumbled. "Urgh, it's still dark out."

"Someone's in the house," Ron whispered. Harry felt like he'd been doused in icy water.

"What?"

"I heard a pan drop in the kitchen. There are people in the house, Harry, get up!"

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He jumped out of bed and followed Ron out to the staircase, forgoing his dressing gown. When they reached the first-floor landing, he heard a third set of footsteps behind them; they had woken Snape.

Their wands lit, they tiptoed through the hall. Harry swore he heard whispers, but no lights were on and the front door was still closed. But when Ron crossed the threshold into the kitchen, everyone heard a loud crack that certainly didn't come from Snape's back.

"Lumos maxima!" Ron's wand lit up the entire room. There were overturned pans, plates, silverware, and a dinner invitation from Mrs. Weasley on the floor.

Harry couldn't breathe. Someone had definitely broken into their house.