A/N: Love to reviewers and Countess Black

At some point, Hermione started calling their houseguest by first name due to his mental age.

For those of you wondering why the Veela story hasn't updated lately: I need to deal with some RL issues that relate to the story. You've all been very patient, but in the interests of the story, let me work through this and come back better prepared to confront these things in a fictional context. (Also posted in my profile).

Scabior left Mother Goforth's at seven, just as the sky was getting light, and walked with Hetty to the Skull and Snake for a pie and some porter. He'd had a very good night, and intended to go and see Snape before he slept all day.

Over eel pies, she told him excitedly how much she'd made the night before (four hundred galleons), the new rinse she was using in her hair (walnut hull and cinnamon) and the way that shameless slut Eunice had chased after Noisome the auror.

'Ah, Ets, she aint alf as pretty as you.'

'And he's not even a highly placed auror. He's a junior auror.'

'An wouldn't know is arse from a ole in the ground. E's the one set Mr. Selwyn's shoes on fire that time.'

Hetty giggled. 'He didn't!'

'Did. Lestrange was fit to be tied.'

'I daresay.' She sipped elegantly at her gin and lemonade, face streaked with paint and powder, hair hanging in tangled mass, curls coming undone. He wished he could take her to bed right then and there, but duty called.

'Today's the day, yeah?'

'I know. I am so jealous. You must remember what everyone has on and tell me.' Lem could, too.

'Course I will. You'll be there at the gate?'

'We all will. Even Mother is coming.' The Wizarding press had been covering this event for weeks. Lucius Malfoy had made numerous statements to various agencies, and his wife had given interviews to all the witch's mags about this upcoming engagement.

'Should I take Chum?'

'No, my friend'll wants the lil bloke. E's a way with animals, e has.'

He patted his pocket, where the rat was napping contentedly, having taken a sip of shandy several hours earlier. Scabior tipped his mistress a wink and left for Spinner's End.

The dog, damn his eyes, was lounging when the knock came at the door. He transformed at once and trotted over, snuffling at the door. Snape rose and welcomed Scabior with a curt nod.

'Have you something for me?'

'Do I ever. Ello, Salazar. Ows doins, friend?' He palmed the dog the bit of pie he hadn't eaten, which the dog ate with doggy restraint, tipping his head as though in thanks.

'Well?'

'There was a bloke in with a funny accent. Ad a foreign look about im.'

'I see. What sort of accent?'

'Dunno. It was sort a like them nobs oo was ere. Krum an them.'

Snape nodded slowly. 'Did he say anything suspicious?'

'No, but e felt funny to me.'

'Have you heard anything from your men?'

'Not a thing. The girls is goin mad with excitement. Gettin all poshed up an all.'

'I understand there will be quite a crowd.'

'Even Mother's t come. Dont think the girls'll get another chance at sumthing so grand, yeah?'

'I'm sure once the diplomatic detachment arrives, their time will be...well filled.'

Scabior chuckled and nodded, delighted by the play on words. 'An the gold'll flow like rivers. Them foreign blokes spend to keeps us quiet.'

'Do take advantage, Scabior.'

'Shure will, sir. Slytherin pride an so forth.'

'Quite so' said Snape, who'd been Scabior's Head of House at one point 'and see you keep your wits about you. Possibly the fellow was some sightseer or something, but perhaps not.'

Scabior looked grim. 'Foreign elements, sowin dissent mongst loyal citizens, sir?'

'Where did you hear that?'

'Radio address, sir, every Thursday, innit?' The Dark Lord addressed his people every Thursday night, borrowing Mulciber's soothing, grandfatherly burr. Snape had assumed that no one listened, but Scabior, apparently, did.

'Precisely so. I wasn't aware you listened, Lemuel.'

'Course I do. I owes it all t the Dark Lord, yeah? A woman, a flat, an elf, an a job. An Lestrange, e set me over the others. That's one reason I watch Flower s'good, to repays his kineness t me an mine.'

'I daresay.' The irony of all this, naturally, being that Scabior would have been an ideal citizen if not for his propensity to mayhem. And a taste for more exotic pleasures, though not, from what Snape heard via the grapevine, as unsavoury as Limpkins or terrifying as Greyback's, who was more beast than man.

'If I should ears anythin, I lets you know, sir.'

Scabior reached into his pocket and handed out a dozing rat. 'Dont Chum look well these days?'

'He does. Sleek and fat. You aren't overfeeding him, are you?'

'Tryin not t, but the girls do loves the lil fella. E's awful popular with em.' Snape imagined that Pettigrew was a happy man, being passed from whore to whore and handfed dainties.

'May I see him?' The dose was prepared, this time in tea, so with the rat in his waistcoat, Snape got the draught into Scabior and then took the rat for debriefing. There was a slight problem. That drop of shandy had had the same effect as several glasses would on a man, and Pettigrew was...merry, to say the least.

'H'lo, Snape' he slurred as soon as he'd transitioned from rat to human. 'How are you?'

Snape's eyes widened. 'You're drunk.'

'Jus a lil. Ha' some shandy. Went t m'head.'

'You idiot, what use are you to me now?'

'I am. Still can help.'

'You'd best, or the dog gets you.' That sobered the rat up a bit, and he shook his head.

'There's information I need about the wolves. And the visit from the Bulgarians. I'll need you for a few hours this afternoon.'

The rat nodded. 'A'right, Snape.'

'Back you go, rat.' Pettigrew crawled into his palm, newly ratted, and Snape tucked him into his pocket.

Scabior, once woken, smiled and stretched. 'Didn't mean t fall asleep, sir.'

'Quite all right. You'll be ready by four o'clock?'

'I will. Me an the others.'

'Meet up at three pm at the Ministry.'

'Y'sir.'

'And bring the rat, it will amuse the children, I'm sure.'

Scabior looked thoughtful. 'Wont scare Miss, will e? Girls is so gentle.'

'I think she'll be up to it. And the reporters are vetted?'

'Did it meself, sir. One from the Prophet, one from Witches Weekly and one from Wizarding Radio Britain.' Scabior was most excited about the last, and he was smiling as he bowed and left. As soon as his smell had faded, Black turned back and rose in a bound. 'Spies and counterspies, is it?'

'Don't be adolescent, Black. It was likely some bored tourist who wanted a bit.'

Black chuckled. 'Please, you're worried.'

'Bah.'

'You are.'

'Why don't you go and make yourself useful, you insufferable bastard?'

'I am useful. Another brain to work things over, my dashing good looks, the fact that that chap was Romanian...'

Snape nearly choked on his mouthful of cold tea. 'What?'

'He's called Nicolae Pavel. He's a wolf. Greyback hates him.'

'Why is he here?'

'Their Ministry is probably using him to try and stir the werewolves in the Great Band to rebel.'

'What does he look like?'

'I don't know. I'd know his smell, but not his face, and he's probably Polyjuicing himself.'

'But he didn't bother to change his accent? Is he stupid?'

'Not at all. Perhaps he's hiding in plain sight. The Bulgarians are coming. They have accents.'

'How is it you know his smell?'

'He came to Greyback one night. It ended poorly.'

'You just happened to be there?'

Black shrugged. 'Padfoot was.'

'Whom?'

'Padfoot. You know' and he changed and then changed back 'Padfoot.'

'Salazar, you mean.'

'Not there. Here he's Salazar, but there he's Padfoot.'

'Dogs have names?'

Black's eyes were misty. 'It's impossible to describe, but for the sake of argument, rather.'

Snape didn't push. He had what he needed, and Black had more than sung for his supper. The question was, what should he do with it? Snape rose, mentally preparing himself to fight the day's battles, and headed for the stairs to shower and dress.

Hours later, dressed in his usual, Snape stood with the Lestranges and Malfoys, Scabior behind them, and the squirming, writhing Barty Crouch near an exit where he could be bundled off should he get over excited.

Barty suddenly shifted from foot to foot and sighed sharply. 'It's too cold here. Like Dementors. Have you ever met a Dementor, Nomascus?'

'Barty, shh.'

Crouch turned and glared. 'Stop it, Nomascus. You've been a ponce ever since you got your medi-wizard's certificate.'

Barty was valuable for publicity but he himself was a wildcard. He wouldn't be expected, as would some of the others, to make a statement, and if the reporters knew what was good for them, they'd politely ignore his ramblings.

Gibbon opened his mouth to respond, but before he did, Hermione, dressed in pink and her moonstones, stepped from her place, crossed the floor with quick, smooth step which pattered on the marble. Smiling, she reached down and took Barty's hand in hers.

'They'll be here any minute, I promise, and then we'll go see the people who've come. We have to be patient or it will take them longer.' Her Dad had used the same logic on car trips, and she'd found it useful to pretend Barty was a nursery schooler or something.

Barty looked downcast. 'Tell Nomascus to stop being a berk, then.'

'Healer Gibbon is just worried about you. Might Barty come and stand with us, Healer?'

Gibbon looked at the Dark Lord, who nodded beneficently. 'Dear child, your heart is as pure as the rest of you.'

Hermione blushed and bowed in thanks. Barty trailed her obediently as a puppy, delighted to stand with his dear friends and not that ass Gibbon. Snape intercepted Crouch as soon as he got close enough, making sure he'd be corralled if need be.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus were startled but not displeased by the way Hermione had headed that off. And the Dark Lord had complimented their child! The fact the Carrows were refusing to take Crouch was eased a bit, though they still felt their lives would be easier without a toddler in the body of a powerful wizard in his prime.

The Floo flared, and the dark head of Viktor Krum came through. Hermione almost bounced with excitement, restraining herself with the stern thought of being a good example of how a lady behaves.

Viktor was as excited to see her, and visibly struggled not to come over. His father and mother came through next, and the rest of the detachment. The Dark Lord, who was wearing Travers, stepped forward.

'*Friends, how wonderful to see you again*.'

'*It is an honour, as always, my Lord*.'

Both groups came forward and exchanged greetings. Viktor, face scarlet, reached out and took Hermione's hand in his. 'Hello, Herm-on-en-ee. I have missed you much. You are vell?'

'Very well, Viktor. There's someone you need to meet. Pretend he's Ivan. And you?'

'Vell. Is he simple?'

'It's hard to explain. Viktor Krum, Bartimius Crouch, Jr., a dear friend of our family. Barty, this is Viktor, my intended.'

Barty sidled forward. He was almost the same size as Viktor, but much thinner, and he looked, to put it bluntly, like a lunatic. 'You mustn't scare Hermione. She's young, you know.'

Viktor understood a little and much at the same time. He'd ask his father for the man's history, but he decided the advice was good and nodded.

'Yes, yes. You like Quidditch?'

'Oh, my, yes. I was Chaser, wasn't I, for Slytherin?' He looked at Hermione, who had no earthly clew, but said as bravely as she could 'Of course you were, Barty.'

Snape slid over and nodded to Krum. 'Hello, Krum.'

'Professor Snape.' They nodded again, men of few words both. Viktor turned and gently tapped Zhivka's shoulder. 'Mother, have you met Professor Snape?'

'Re-introduce me, love, will you?'

'Mother, Professor Snape. Snape, my mother, Zhivka Krum.'

'*Of course, Madam Krum. How good to see you again.*'

'*And yourself, Professor. We've heard so much of your prowess at potions.*'

'* You are too kind. How is your family*?'

'*Well, well. Yana is five now. She wanted to much to come and meet her new cousin.*' Both children adored Viktor, and had been very upset at being left at the Castle.

'*And Hermione is eager to meet them. She does love children.*' Which was true, as his little spy attracted all manner of helpless, needy, pathetic creatures to herself. Next to Martin was a thin, handsome man with hair that had gone a distinguished silver despite his age.

'*My brother in law, Penko. He's our go-between. In Bulgaria, a family member often acts in that capacity*.'

Snape could detect a note of something he could not place in her voice. '*In Britain, we prefer a family friend, but I am eager to meet Penko.*' There, let her chew on that.

Bellatrix managed to get closer to her daughter. 'Girl! Well done!'

Hermione's face lit up, and her mother's heart cramped a bit. Did she not do that enough? Well, no time to worry about it, she had to politick.

'Madam, your health is good?'

'Yes, thank you. Yourself?'

'Excellent. Son Viktor is most large now, yes?'

'He's grown.'

'Yes. Zhivka have much talking for you.'

'And I for her. My husband wants to take you to see a Quidditch match.'

'Ah, yes, Quidditch.' Martin's English was good but he spoke more than he understood, and so he extricated himself and went to Penko.

'Penko, there's the potions master.'

'He doesn't look as much like a bat as I'd been led to believe.'

'A thousand pardons, brother. You've brought the things you need?'

'Martin, honestly. Would I disappoint my favourite oldest nephew?'

Martin rolled his eyes and watched as Penko went to charm the terrifying Madam Lestrange. Across the atrium, the little Malfoy boy was talking with his son. Viktor was grinning, so Martin bet it was Quidditch.

Lucius had worked extensively with the press in order to put this day in the best of all possible lights, but even he was startled by the number of people, mainly witches, who were gathered at the gate, and who cheered when they stepped into the courtyard to climb into the carriages.

Lucius Malfoy, looking both regal and avuncular, stepped forward to give his statement about the great joy his family felt at the prospect of marrying their beloved Hermione to such an illustrious family, and the importance of the alliance for Wizarding Britain.

Penko gave a similar statement via interpreter, and then, with great fanfare, the three reporters were brought forth to ask carefully rehearsed questions of the families.

Hermione found she was uncomfortable with all this. Draco, at least, was used to people knowing who he was, and he smiled for the cameras and winked at her and Viktor to keep their spirits up.

Mother, thankfully, looked as uncomfortable as she. Hermione's hand crept down and wriggled into Mother's. Mother squeezed, and Hermione relaxed slightly, feeling safer because she knew she'd made Bellatrix proud.

'Madam Lestrange, is it true Mr. Crouch is staying with you to recuperate?'

'Yes.' Bellatrix was disinclined to give long answers, and even less inclined to indulge this silliness. She was a warrior, not a socialite.

Barty nodded vigourously. 'Oh yes, we are the dearest of friends.'

'That we are.' Bellatrix would strangle whoever had the bright idea to bring Barty for this. She suspected (hoped with her whole heart) it was Malfoy so she could shout at him.

'Miss Lestrange, what is like to have so many famous war heroes under your roof?'

Hermione hadn't anticipated having to speak, but she squeezed a bit harder and said, as bravely as she could 'I am so fortunate to have so many adults about who care for me and teach me things. It is an honour to learn from them.' And it was, though not in the way the papers would make out. And her voice only shook a little.

Bellatrix felt such a flare of pride that it was painful to her, painful in sweet it was and how much she loved her child. And she actually smiled, which was the picture the papers used. And she didn't even mind very much.

The crowd was still cheering. The Dark Lord said something to Lucius, who went pale for a second but then recovered with aplomb. He in turn called Scabior, who made it happen in record time.

A small door opened near the gate, and a number of Snatchers went out and came back with a half a dozen scared looking mothers and children, a few young women who looked respectable (three of them were whores, including Hetty, attired in very conservative blue, with a hat), and a few old men who claimed to be veteran aurors.

'Darling' said Narcissa very softly 'they'll bring the people over to you, all right? Just do what you've been doing.' Narcissa was almost as proud as Bellatrix, and she wished it was proper for her to give the child a hug.

Hermione nodded. 'Yes, Aunt Narcissa. Is Viktor all right?'

Narcissa said something to Lucius, and a moment later Viktor stepped beside her, looking anxious. 'Are you all right?'

'Fine, you?'

' All this makes me nervous.'

'Me, too.' Viktor was relaxing now that Hermione was here. She smelt like his rose otto, and he wanted to reach over and rest his hand on her arm. Of course, that was not an option, and instead, he made himself smile and greet the people in his best English.

Everything went smoothly until a little girl of perhaps five beamed up at Hermione and said 'You have nice hair.'

Hermione thanked her, smiling, and then the little girl, without missing a beat, promptly sicked up on her shoes. The girl's mother fainted, convinced the whole family would be killed.

Hermione wanted to recoil, but it might hurt the little girl's feelings, she told herself sharply. Instead, she bent down and gently moved the child from the puddle. 'Is your tummy sad?'

The little girl sniffled and nodded. 'Father, may we have a cup of water and a hankie?' Viktor handed his, and Hermione immediately set to scrubbing the sick from the little hands and cheeks whilst Viktor spoke softly to her, distracting her from the adults running about.

Water was produced, and the girl drank it. Snape made his way over and dropped down to check the child's pulse. The girl cringed, and Hermione said brightly 'It's only Professor Snape. He's a very good potions master.'

Snape motioned to Limpkin. 'Have her and the mother taken to St. Mungo's and checked over. I think it's only stomach upset, but one never knows.'

The mother was revived and, sobbing, came for her child. Hermione smiled. 'Your daughter is very pretty.'

The woman was too overcome to respond. As they were led off, the girl tugged her mother's hand. 'Mummy, don't cry. The girl said I'm pretty.'

Lucius Malfoy, unwilling to risk any more problems, whispered to Snape that they should get everyone home now. Snape agreed, and the group moved to the carriages. Rinky appeared and took Hermione's shoes to be cleaned, and she settled back, barefoot, and said 'Did I do it right?'

Rodolphus looked at his daughter and laughed. 'Darling, that could not have gone better than it did. I am so pleased with you.'

Hermione didn't hesitate. She simply moved closer and rested her head on his chest. 'That was hard. Will I have to do that a lot?'

'No, sweetheart, not at all. You were very brave about the whole thing.'

Bellatrix thought so too. She motioned for Rodolphus to move down and squeezed in so she could whisper to her daughter. 'I am so proud of you, Hermione.'

Hermione pressed her cheek to her mother's. 'That little girl's not in trouble, is she?'

'Of course not.'

'Do you think she's sick?'

'Too much excitement, was all. Children do that.'

Hermione nodded. 'That's good. Uncle Lucius is good at this.'

'Yes, he is.'

Hermione's bare feet felt strange, the air rushing over them. She giggled, feeling how nice it was, and then closed her eyes.

Snape was riding in a Hogwarts carriage which the Dark Lord had given him for personal use. He savoured the silence of the ride, as much as he loathed the bouncing and cold drafts of travelling this way.

The whole thing had been splendid. He could not have planned any of what happened better than it had, and the fact the Dark Lord had noticed the girl made it even better, in some ways.

Snape didn't like the idea of letting his little spy be used for propaganda, but he couldn't protect her against everything, and indispensability to the regime added a layer of safety for her that meant she'd have to endure the discomfort of the spotlight.

And he had other worries at the moment. If this werewolf meant to move, he'd do it now. And if not, why come here now? Snape felt blind, and it made him nervous. But how could he resolve this?

Then it hit him like a bludger, and he actually laughed. Snape put his head up and said sharply 'Elf! Spinner's End and be quick about it!'

The elf charmed the carriage so no muggles would see it, and Snape entered the house like a man with a holy cause. 'Dog!'

Black padded in as Salazar (to give the ass his due, he was sensible about which form to take), and Snape conjured a leash and collar. 'We'll be taking an airing. Do you fly?'

The dog backed up, shaking his head human like. Black changed back and said 'Fly?'

'In a carriage. I need your help.'

'Help?'

'You're in luck, Black. We're going to see your darling cousin.'

Black laughed and changed back. Snape hooked the collar. 'You'll be sniffing the guests. I think the wolf is there.'

When the carriage touched down, Snape helped him down and found him a place in the carriage house. 'Be good, Salazar.' The dog wagged and, Snape would swear, winked.

Snape found Rodolphus Lestrange gladhanding guests in the foyer. 'I thought I'd surprise the children and bring the dog.' Hermione had told Rodolphus, he felt sure, and the man nodded, unsurprised.

'Of course, Severus. For a man who doesn't want to marry...'Rodolphus smiled archly and Snape said nothing. The girl, clad in clean clothes, was sitting with the Krum boy in a window niche, Draco watching them like an owl.

'Come with me, children. I've a surprise for you.'

Hermione jumped up. 'A surprise?'

'Quite. Hurry, now.' Snape led them to the carriage house and whistled. The dog appeared, a big, lean creature with a thick wiry coat and bright, intelligent eyes.

Hermione felt almost as happy as she had since the day Barty had got Confused (she'd been happier to see Viktor, but there was a quiet, pure pleasure in meeting a dog that she hadn't felt in a long time).

The dog sat on his haunches, studying her, cocking his head this way and that as though he was looking for something. She reached out a hand and the dog, after a second, came to lap it. 'Hello, Salazar. You're very handsome, aren't you?'

Snape felt a moment of irritation. Everywhere he went, Black got women fawning over him. Bastard. And he was playing up to her, too! He'd got up on his hind legs and bowed, which made Hermione laugh.

'He's so smart, Professor. Did you train him?'

'No, Miss Lestrange. He came this way.'

Krum knelt down. His family had Karakachans, big fierce dogs suited to hard conditions. He reached out a hand and the dog smelt it and rewarded him with tail wags and a few rasps of a soft pink tongue.

Draco seemed unsure. 'He's nice, Professor.'

'Draco' scolded Hermione 'he's brilliant. And he shan't...perhaps you'd accompany me whilst I get closer?'

Draco couldn't exactly refuse, and he swallowed his discomfort and stepped up. Salazar held out a paw to Draco, who slowly reached a hand for it. The dog sniffed his hand and then stood, putting his paws on the boy's shoulders as though he was embracing him.

Draco felt his fear drain away, or at least calm. This dog was like a big teddy bear. He'd been bitten by a crup at age six and had never felt safe with dogs after. Hermione stepped closer and winked at him. He winked back.

'Dog chase tree?'

'Stick. And yes, he does.'

'Stick. Dog? Chase stick?' Viktor conjured a stick, as there were, naturally, none on the lawn, and threw it with a powerful, arching swing. The dog took off after it, body a black smooth line, and Viktor wished he was more articulate so he could tell Hermione how much it moved him, the power and beauty of Nature at the most basic.

'Dog fly.' It was the best he could do, and he hoped she understood what it meant to him. Hermione looked at him, and Snape, sensing this was a chance for them to bond a bit, said to Draco 'Malfoy, come help me.'

Draco bowed and trailed after his godfather. 'I can't leave them!'

'Her elf is there, isn't it?'

'Father says I've a duty to protect Hermione.'

'You have. I wanted to tell you, there are a good many strange men here. If you notice one of them is staring at the ladies, you must tell Lucius or I, understood?'

Draco visibly stood straighter. 'I will, Godfather.'

'And I hardly think Krum some manner of seducer, do you?'

Draco wasn't quite sure what that meant. 'I suppose not, but Father says sometimes people get carried away.'

'Next year, Draco, you may worry. For right now, your cousin is too young for us to worry much.'

'Yes, Godfather.'

Snape didn't wish to crush the boy. 'But you're doing well, and I'm pleased by how seriously you take your obligations to your house.' Draco flushed with pride.

'Godfather?'

'Yes, Draco?'

'Is Scabior here?'

Snape wondered what this was about. 'Why do you ask?'

Draco shook his head. 'I don't trust him with any lady, do you?'

Snape gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze. 'Just keep an eye out, Draco?'

Draco Malfoy, guardian of his family's honour and his cousin's virtue, nodded and walked back, just to be absolutely sure Krum wasn't a seducer, whatever that was.