Snape slammed down the fork and gave Vance a withering glare. 'Really, Miss Feathering , do try not to clutch your flatware as though you're a troll with a club, hmm?' The woman shot him a look of pure hatred but obediently stopped choking up quite so hard on her knife.

Beside her, Moody was eating with the stolid slowness of a bull. He swallowed great gulps of water and generally ignored what had to be the strangest etiquette class ever devised.

Emmeline/Eugenia was ready to scream. Her parents had taught her well, but they had, after all, been muggles. She had perfectly respectable table manners in most circumstances, but if she was to infiltrate Pureblood society, she had to be flawless. More than flawless, she had to be alluring.

Snape regretted he couldn't benefit from Narcissa Malfoy's enormous stock of knowledge and experience to help with this. There was no woman he could trust that had the abilities he needed.

Or could he? Snape's mind was working this problem like a dog with a marrow bone. Speaking of which, the damned dog was sitting next to him, cutting his meat with fluid, easy gestures.

'It might be easier, Snape, if you weren't always barking orders at me.'

'So sorry. Now, again, and do-not-slouch that like, are you a lady or a yeoman?'

Emmeline/Eugenia sat up straighter and glared fearsomely, clutching the fork the proper way. She'd show him, the fucking prick.

Snape nodded once and cut his potatoes. What Eileen had neglected to teach him, Lucius Malfoy had, so he did it exactly as he ought to, with a carefully effortless effect.

Black smiled at the woman. 'How do you find the weather lately?'

'The weather?'

'Yes, of course. It's awfully cool, I thought.' Snape understood what he was doing right before the light came on in Emmeline/Eugenia's eyes. She swallowed the little bite of ham in her mouth and said 'Isn't it? Beastly, just beastly. And it's not as though one can trust the elves to damp the fires correctly.'

'Mmm, quite so. Have you considered replacing your current help? Sometimes a bit of new blood can do wonders.' Black was really getting into this, and Snape was impressed despite himself.

'Oh, I couldn't. These elves have been in the family for years.'

'No, no, no. You don't care about the elves. Your maid, perhaps. Your old nanny. But the scullery help? You don't even know their names.' Snape used his best student scaring look, and Emmeline/Eugenia, suitably chastened if not happy about it, nodded.

Moody rose without another word and, taking his plate, went to the kitchen. The woman went to follow suit and Snape waved at her. 'Leave it. That is for the elves to get.'

'You've not got an elf.'

'Irrelevant. Go and sit down in the parlour. Black, keep drilling her. Take your plate first. You're not a Pureblood lady.'

Black rolled his eyes but took everything with him, including Snape's dinner things. Snape rose and went for his cloak. 'I've some things to do. Don't do anything stupid whilst I'm gone. And Black? If those neighbour children come back into my garden, you might maul them savagely. Nasty little brats. Someone ought to take a strap to all of them.'

Sirius nodded agreement about the second part. 'Why don't you just have the Ministry ward it?'

'Muggle area. I daresay the parents would object if I mutilated their offspring too badly.' Scaring them, on the other hand, was fair game. If his (purely hypothetic, thank God) child ever dared behave that way...Snape, entertaining these pleasantly outraged feelings, went to advance his players a bit more on the chessboard.

The first thing was a letter to Krum Jr. Snape sent it via elf, a Hogwarts elf he'd never met before, with orders to be quick. To his surprise, the answer was in English, a bit shaky in terms of grammar, but it was all he needed. He resolved to reward the boy well for this.

Step two was relatively easy. He called Kreacher and gave him a number of detailed instuctions, including total discretion. He also gave him a large sum of money, which the elf then took to various places to get what was needed.

Snape rose and donned his cloak, steeling himself for the next part, which would've delighted anyone else but made him want to gnaw off his own arm. The atrium of Mother Goforth's reeked of perfume and pastilles of incense. He stepped through the door and nodded to Scabior's replacement. 'Hello, Biksdale.'

'Sir. You want to talk to Mother, is it?'

'I wonder if there's a girl free? Hetty, might be the name?'

Biksdales's eyes widened. 'A message from Scabs?'

'Rather, but I'd appreciate if you kept that to yourself.'

'I'll check.' Biksdale looked at the small board beside the chair and nodded. 'She is. Shall I send you to Mother?'

Snape nodded. Within minutes, he was facing Mother Goforth's velvet swathed bulk, bright red hair piled very high and surmounted by a ridiculous cap of lace. Her rooms smelt of champagne, violet creams and strong incense. Snape bowed, and the woman extended a hand crusted with rings, like barnacles on hull of a ship.

'Mother Goforth.'

'Professor Snape. It is such a pleasure to see you here in my humble home.'

'I apologise for calling so early, Madam. But I've something of a proposition for Hetty. Would you be amenable if she was?'

'Perhaps if I had some details, I would be more certain.'

Snape nodded. 'A friend of mine has just learnt a great grand niece, raised in Aruba, is returning home. As she is his only living relative, he wishes her to be taught every grace. Her upbringing was not as strict as it might have been. I thought perhaps a lady with such a rich store of knowledge might be the most useful and discreet teacher.'

'Of course. Frankly, I would recommend another girl. Perhaps Eunice? Or Helena?'

'I am quite set on Hetty. If she were interested, naturally.'

Mother Goforth's eyes, caked in mascara, looked like pools of ink dropped in a pile of rice powder. She nodded slowly, wondering what this had to do with Scabior. Something, clearly.

Well, she didn't much care either way. Hetty was a nasty, wilful little baggage, and Mother Goforth wouldn't weep many tears to see her back. The only reason she'd kept her on was that men were, unaccountably, mad for the goldmine between her legs.

'I'll summon her at once. Please, sit down. Wine?'

'Please.'

Hetty came down in a virginal nightdress, white, and a dressing gown. The plump breast and coral nipple protruding did little to dampen the effect, until she saw Snape. She went white and shoved it back into the gown, tugging the dressing gown (also coral) about herself more tightly.

'Professor? Is Lemuel all right?'

'He is well and sends you his affections. Madam, might we have a moment?'

'Of course.' The madam heaved herself to her feet, and ponderously left her sanctum for the parlour, not even daring to stay by the door and listen.

'I've a job for you, if you'd take it.'

The woman blinked before her professional instincts kicked in. 'Oh. Oh, yes. I could. I've been a very bad girl. Perhaps you'd see fit to chastise me?' She licked her lips and gave him her eyes, which were a lovely soft amber.

Snape gave her his coldest look. 'Thank you, Miss Gill. It is not for me that I ask.' He'd had her as a Hufflepuff, and as he outlined her duties, she found she'd stopped feeling like Hetty and started to feel like Henrietta Gill again.

'It will be an involved process, you understand.'

'How long, do you think?'

'Months at least. She needs quite a bit of help. And of course, your instruction would include the arts of love, as well.'

'What about Lem? He'll be home sometime.'

'Of course. I'm sure we can negotiate something about your visits to him.'

The woman nodded. 'Will you want my Gringotts account number?'

'Please.'

'When shall I be ready?'

'Now.' She nodded, rose to get her things, and then made her way to the stairs. 'Professor?'

'Miss Gill?'

'I meant no offence.'

'Of course not.'

Twenty minutes later, clutching her possessions in her hands (shrunk down, of course) and attired in a respectable hat and cloak, Snape Apparated Hetty out of Diagon Alley. In that twenty minute window, Snape had negotiated a rather steep sum with Mother Goforth, in return for a binding vow that she'd never reveal what went on. 'So as not to embarrass my friend, you understand.'

He Apparated Hetty directly to the parlour of Grimmauld Place. He didn't want her to see the outside, for one, or for anyone to know she was there. She looked round the dingy little rooms with dismay.

'Please' he said, wand raised, 'do sit down.' And then he Imperio'd her without another word, before she could even open her mouth to protest.

He raised her chin, looking into those splendid eyes, and gathered his thoughts. This would be a tricky, slow, touchy business. He could do it. Would her mind hold? He thought it would.

'Legilimens' he said, and started. He went into her mind, into the very streams of her thoughts, and started to move things. He carefully adjusted a few things, created a very few from whole cloth and left gaps for her mind to fill on several others. He thought it would serve to begin with. If she needed fine tuning, he'd simply do it. It wasn't as though they lacked for time, after all.

Whilst he was in Hetty's cerebrum, he planted his objectives as well, and then put her to sleep with a feather light jab to her brain stem. She'd sleep naturally and deeply for four hours at least. Finally, he ended the Imperius-too much risk of discovery, he thought, not without regret.

Leaving Kreacher to guard the sleeping whore, he went to Otway's. Otway's was an inferior purveyor of house elves. The ton, like Lucius and Narcissa, preferred to patronise Christabel's or Newley's, where the elves were the best that money could buy; young, trained in the latest fashions, specialised in what they did.

Otway's was several rungs down. The elves tended to be older, elves of all work, elves that lacked some quality which made them unacceptable to anyone who could afford better.

Snape disillusioned himself rapidly and walked in the door. Janus Otway was lounging behind his desk, smoking a cigar with an air of despondency. Disillusioned, Snape looked relatively like his usual self. The spell simply blurred the edges, and as he meant this to be a strictly under the table thing, it would do.

'Ah, sir, come in, come in! How may I help you today?'

'I need two elves. One as an elf of all work, gender irrelevant, age not a consideration. All I require is sufficiently docile temperament and an ability to perform the usual tasks.'

'And the other, sir?'

'A lady's maid. Female, skilled in dressing of hair and such things, likewise docile and discreet.'

The man nodded, stubbing out his cigar. 'I've just the thing, I think, Mr...'

'Smythe' said Snape. 'Tobias Smythe.'

'Mr. Smythe. We've quite a lot at the moment, but there's two in particular I'd like to show you.'

Otway rose, rather grimy tail coat flapping, and led Snape into a warren of tiny wooden honeycombs. Otway was muttering to himself as he went, until he came to one marked in yellow chalk. He wrapped sharply with his knuckle, and an elf popped out, bowing low.

'Well?'

'Which is this one?'

'The all work. Mippy, it's called. A bit long in the tooth, but works hard. Came from an estate in Conwy.'

Snape nodded. 'How many owners have you have, elf?'

'Three, Master.'

'And you can clean my house and cook meals?'

The elf nodded, big ears bobbing. 'Yes, Master.'

'I require quiet. Are you loud?'

'No, Master.'

Snape turned to the hovering Otway. 'This one will do. And the lady's maid?'

Otway led him deeper into the warren. This chalk mark was bright pink. He wrapped again and an elf popped out.

'Gemmy. Not young, either, but quite talented, I'm given to understand. Same lot as the other one.'

'You, elf, you're a lady's maid?'

'Yes, Master.'

Snape repeated the questioning and then allowed himself to be led back to the office. He'd brought a good deal of cash, lightened, of course, in a small pouch. He sat in the chair, the new elves hovering behind Otway, and waited for the inevitable cant.

Otway didn't disappoint. 'I suppose you know, sir, elves like these don't come cheap.'

'How much?'

'Five hundred for the pair.' Otway seemed put out by the lack of finesse on Snape's part. Snape didn't care. He could afford to pay practically anything, but he couldn't let on to Otway, of course.

'Three. They're old.'

'That just means they're experienced! Can't put a price on that, sir.'

'They'll be hard to re-train, is what that means. How do I know their previous owner didn't teach them bad habits?'

'Four.'

'Three and a half, and I'll send more business your way.'

'Four.'

They debated a bit more, and Snape, decided this was not worth his time, paid it without much grumbling. The paperwork took only five minutes, and then he walked out with his two new elves.

Snape Apparated all three of them back. Kreacher drew his warped body to it's full height when he saw the other elves. Snape had no time for stupid house elf politics. He glared at the ancient, wily elf and said 'None of that. You'll all get along, that's a command.'

The elves nodded and subsided a bit, at least in his presence. Snape inspected the lightly snoring Hetty and then drew the elves into the other room to explain their new roles.

Back at Spinner's End, he brought Mippy into the house. 'Black?' Sirius, as Salazar, appeared, sniffing curiously at the new elf. 'Turn back. This is my new elf.'

Sirius transformed and studied the new elf with frank curiosity. 'Never figured you for the sort, Snape.'

'Normally I'm not. Get Miss Feathering for me and then come back down.' Sirius did it, and Snape turned to direct the new elf. 'I want the woman packed and ready in ten minutes time.' The elf bowed and vanished.

Emmeline/Eugenia was startled from a nap by the sound of Sirius's soft knock. 'Em? Emmeline? Snape wants you.'

She rose, straightened herself, and went downstairs, dreading what was to come, though she didn't know what it was yet.

When Hetty woke, a strange elf was staring at her. 'Hello?'

'Miss is being awake. Good. Miss comes with Gemmy now.' Hetty rose, blinking, and made her into the next room. She half suspected this was some sort of ruse, and Snape simply couldn't admit he had unusual tastes.

She wondered idly what he would do. Would he want to bend her over something and birch her? Perhaps bend over something himself? Or something with whipped cream? Feathers? Silk scarves?

She was slightly surprised, then, when she came in and found Snape, dressed quite normally, and another woman who would have been pretty had she not looked so nervous. Hetty sat down and waited politely.

'Henrietta Gill, Eugenia Feathering. Miss Feathering, this is your teacher.'

The women studied one another frankly. Henrietta, thought Emmeline/Eugenia, was pretty in an opulent way that she'd never managed. Eugenia, thought Hetty, could have been a good deal better looking if she tried a bit harder, and knew how to take advantage of her assets.

'Well, ladies, I hope you find one another's company instructive. You've both your instructions.' Snape rose, bowed sardonically, and was gone, leaving the two women to their own devices.

The two of them stared at one another. They certainly did have their instructions. Neither of them knew quite what to do, and finally the new elf came in and handed them both a glass of wine.

'Gemmy is getting ladies a snack?'

'Please' said Emmeline/Eugenia. The other woman looked at her and said nothing. She felt on the threshold of a sea-change. She'd not been Emmeline, precisely, since this thing started, but she'd not been Eugenia, exactly, either. She could feel this nebulous other person creeping on her like a fog.

'Henrietta's a pretty name.'

'Everyone calls me Hetty. I'm a whore. Do you mind terribly?'

The other woman blinked. 'Not at all.' That didn't shed much light on things. Emmeline wouldn't mind terribly-would probably approve the woman's straightforwardness, actually-but what would Eugenia do?

'I always thought women like you hate women like me. We fuck your husbands.'

'I don't have one. A husband.'

'You will when I'm done. The Dark Lord himself would fall at your feet. Are you very political? I didn't offend you, did I?'

She shook her head. Probably Eugenia would be offended, but Eugenia was supposed to smile and be gracious and not disagree. 'No. Speak freely.'

'Good. I don't know any other way, I suppose.'

'Nor I.'

'Do you want one? A husband?'

Now she was Eugenia. 'It's my duty to marry.'

'This relative of yours? Does he want you to?'

'I should think.' '

He doesn't want you to marry some mouldy old duffer, does he?'

'I don't think so.'

'Excellent. I couldn't help you with that.'

'What can you help me with, Hetty?'

Hetty smiled. 'First thing? Sit up straight. Men want to see your tits. Like that.' She sat up and smiled brightly. Emmeline mimicked her, and as she did, she felt the first tendrils of Eugenia unfolding in her heart. It was bitter to her, bitter as drinking quinine, but she would let it happen, because there was no other way to make this work.

Hetty nodded approval. 'Get up and walk across the room, would you?' She watched the woman walk across the floor and shook her head. 'No. First thing, tell that relative you need some decent clothes. These are like sacks.'

'All right.'

'So you grew up in Aruba?'

No, she'd grown up in Hampstead. Well, Emmeline had. Emmeline had grown up in a house with a telly and a car and a music player. Not Eugenia. Eugenia'd grown up in Aruba.

'Yes. That's rather a painful topic.'

'Sorry. So let's make a list of what you need.' And so they did.

'Do you like it, Hetty?'

'Being a whore?'

'I don't mean to offend.'

'No, of course not. I like it very much. Have you ever had a man?'

Eugenia (?) nodded shyly. 'Yes. When I was younger.'

'What happened?'

'I had a fiancee. He...died. An accident.' She'd had her share of lovers, being, after all, thirty one, but she could hardly let on to Hetty, who was almost certainly Wizarding raised.

'And you and he fucked?'

'Yes.' Her eyes filled, thinking of what she was giving up by becoming this new person. Her heart was aching but she pushed on, ignoring the agony of it.

Hetty nodded, not wanting to push too hard with this. It clearly caused the woman pain.

'I only ask because I need to know what to teach you. Snape said you needed some help.'

'It's been a while.' It had been over a year. She missed the warm beat of a man's heart under her ear, and the feeling of another's person warmth along his back.

'Nothing wrong with that. I've a man.'

'Do you?'

'Lem. He's away right now.'

'Oh. Does he mind...'

'That I'm a whore? No. That's how we met. He's our spoony-man.'

'Will you get married?'

'Lem and I?' Hetty considered. 'I don't know. He's a good bloke, but I do like my freedom.'

The other woman, somewhere between Emmeline and Eugenia, nodded. 'I understand.'

'Is that why you aren't married?'

'I suppose. After my fiancé died, there was never anyone I cared about as I had him.'

'What was his name?' Hetty listens for a living (something she planned to teach Eugenia) and she could tell the woman needed to talk.

'John. John D-Davis.' She'd almost used poor Dawlish's real name. She missed him, despite having few memories of him that had not been stolen from her. That was part of the reason she'd been willing to go along with Snape's plan; her grief for John numbed her to the disgust and horror of being married off to some stranger would have evoked normally. What did it matter? The man she loved was dead.

'What happened? Will it hurt too much to say?'

'He was killed in a fight. He tried to save a child and got stabbed.' Her hands were clutching each others with painful tightness. Hetty cooed, feeling genuinely sorry for the woman, and for the fellow, too. He'd only been trying to do right, after all. What sort of vile bastard stabs someone trying to help a child?

Hetty moved closer and gave the woman a hug. 'I'm sorry, Eugenia.'

Emmeline, she was Emmeline now. She inhaled, dropped her head and let the tears come. When she came up, she'd be Eugenia again, but now she was Emmeline, and John was dead.

In Spinner's End, Snape and Moody were sipping tea. 'Cold out?'

'A bit.' Snape liked his tea strong, and it was hot and black as pitch. Moody nodded once and looked into the fire.

'Durmstrang needs a headmaster.'

'Oh.' Moody seemed disinterested. His own tea was much like Snape's. He felt empty, as though Azkaban had stripped out everything and left him only his bones.

'I want it to be you.'

'Me? I don't know anything about children.'

'You need not.'

'I'm a bit conspicuous.'

'That's fixable.' Snape finished his tea. 'I'm going to start setting up an identity for you. But you're not opposed?'

'No.' Nearly everyone he'd ever been close to had died on that day at Hogwarts, and the ones who didn't were in Romania. Moody was not young any more, but he liked the idea of a fresh start. Somewhere with no memories.

'Moody?'

'Hm?'

'Why didn't you turn the Lestrange girl over to Malfoy and his wife?'

Moody looked at his hands. 'Because Albus thought they'd turn her into a symbol. It seemed a good idea at the time. Why?'

'Curiosity. '

'Did the muggles escape the country, then?'

'No. Bellatrix and Rodolphus killed them.'

Moody's craggy face flexed with sadness. 'Should've guessed.'

'No one could have known.'

'It was all for nothing.' The man's voice was flat, dry with sorrow.

'Was it? They raised her well. She was loved, Moody.' Snape hoped that would give the man solace.

'And now?'

'The same. The Lestranges love her dearly, and so do the Malfoys.'

'Bellatrix?'

'Is her mother. No one was as surprised as I.'

Moody nodded tiredly. 'Is she still his most faithful?'

Snape raised an eyebrow. 'Excellent question.' He recounted the story of the engagement, answering the questions put to him by the old auror.

'And now I go to take Karkaroff's place?'

'If I can arrange it, you will.'

'Is this what you meant to happen, Snape?'

Snape blinked. 'With Karkaroff, you mean?'

'No. This. All of it.'

Snape set down his empty cup. 'I'd have thought you above this, Moody.'

Moody shrugged. 'It's honestly asked.'

'I never thought...no. No.'

'And the Lestranges?'

Snape inhaled, feeling an unaccountable sorrow. 'Six months ago I would have yes. They're happy as they could be with all this. But now?'

'What changed for them?'

Snape's eyes had a bitter gleam. 'I sold their daughter for a thousand aurors.'

'And this will do it?'

'I don't know, Moody.' He settled back and called for the elf to bring more tea, and started to brief his newest spy.

In Bulgaria, two other spies were moon viewing. The moon was fatter tonight, and they were lying on their backs, looking at it. Bess was between them, eyes closed, dozing gently.

'Viktor?'

'Hmm?'

'It was a good duel today.' They'd spent part of the day in training, and she was gaining on him in terms of ability. She had a ways to go, but Viktor was proud and impressed by her skill.

'Yes. Your cousin needs to learn to mind his sides, though. I felled him twice.'

'Tomorrow you leave.'

'Yes.'

'I write every day.'

'I know. Are you afraid?'

Hermione swallowed dryly. She was struggling not to be. 'Maybe a little.'

'Why?'

'You come back. You promise you would. That means you come back.'

Viktor rolled and gently wriggled Bess out of the way so they could lie in one another's arms.

'It's all right, Hermione.' He almost wanted to disobey and stay to help, but he understood it was for the best that he go. She'd always be afraid, he suspected deep down, but having him go and come back would help assuage her fear.

'I know. You be careful. And no to fly in good tunics.'

He laughed. 'I won't. Promise you won't try to do too much.'

'Promise. Bess wait for you, too.' The puppy whined and climbed against them, wanting to be cuddled between them.

'She don't wet, you think?'

'Won't. I hope not.'

'Babies do that.'

'Mmm hmm.' He nuzzled her neck gently and Hermione closed her eyes and hugged the puppy one armed. She wanted them to stay like this, tucked away from everyone and everything.

Behind them, Draco stirred. He didn't understand what they'd said in Bulgarian, but he could tell they were talking about something that made Hermione sad. He half wanted to intervene, but Mother said married people (or people who'd be married someday) had to deal with things together.

Bess sensed his movement and squirmed away from the pile. Draco should come too! She couldn't imagine why he didn't want to pile, or else a good wrestling match, or maybe both.

Draco didn't feel quite comfortable with these huge and not very friendly dogs, but Bess didn't seem to mind much. She hopped over, wagging, and decided to wash his face whilst she was there.

Defeated, Draco let her. He meant to get up and gently shake Viktor and Hermione so they could rise and go to bed. He meant to, but Bess, defeated in her attempts to get Draco to wrestle, settled down on his chest, nuzzling hopefully for a nipple. Finding none, she sighed, closed her eyes and started to drowse.

When the children hadn't returned by eleven, Bellatrix shook Narcissa awake and insisted she come and help her find them. Suppose something had happened? The Dark Lord would be very upset if the children had done something they shouldn't, after all.

Narcissa bit her lip to keep from smiling and joined the search. She didn't want to wake Rumen and Lyudmilla if they didn't have to, but Hermione was almost thirteen, and they needed to be conscious of the potential for...issues.

They searched as quietly as possible until Bellatrix grabbed her sister's arm. 'Cissy!'

They'd reached the moon viewing room, and both women stood and watched a moment, amazed by what they saw.

Viktor and Hermione laid sleeping on the skins, covered in a fur an elf had draped over them. An arm's length away, Draco was on his back, puppy draped on him like a scarf. He, too, had a fur over him.

Narcissa smiled at her sister. 'I wish I had a camera.' Technically, she ought to scold all of them very sharply, but in practice, this was obviously innocent and deeply sweet to behold. She bent over Draco and shook his shoulder lightly. 'Precious, wake up.'

Draco jerked up so quickly their heads nearly collided. 'Mother! I'm so sorry! Hermione's not ruined, is she?' He sounded genuinely panicked, and Narcissa put her arms round him.

'No, sweetheart. It was an accident. And Rinky was here, hmm?'

He relaxed a bit and she let him go. Bellatrix bent over the other two and found her hand in her daughter's hair, stroking. 'Hermione?'

'M-mother?' Her voice was a slurred, sleepy drawl, and she snuggled into her mother's hand, feeling warm and content.

'Hush, girl. You fell asleep, is all.' Hermione nodded but made no effort to move. The puppy came and noised at them, wanting to join in this and encourage some piling. Beside Hermione, Viktor was moving. He sat, gently disentangling himself from Hermione, blushing red.

'Sorry, Mother. Aunt Narcissa. My fault.'

'Of course not. All of you, to bed.' Bellatrix shot them her best look and the children (and Bess) climbed to their feet and walked toward the stairs. Viktor and Hermione walked behind, with Bellatrix.

'Mother, I go tomorrow to train.'

'I know.'

'Everything vill be good whilst I am gone.'

Bellatrix nodded. 'I'm sure it will.'

'You say to Draco "Watch sides in fighting"? I hit him two times in...ribs?'

'Ribs.' Said Hermione, blinking. She felt muzzy and light-headed. It would be good to sleep.

'Ribs. Two times.'

'I'll remind him.'

They parted at the ladies' door. Bellatrix watched the boys go, and saw her daughter's eyes as she watched Krum.

'Trust, girl, remember?'

'Yes, Mother.'

'Hard as you can?'

'Hard as I can.'

'That's my girl.'