CCX

"Professor Sprout!" McGonagall's disapproval grabbed the lover's attention with the power of a wayward firecracker.

The lovers froze, their eyes wide in alarm. In between heaving breaths, Pomona squeaked, "Shite!"

Her partner closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Sprout's as he ground out in a decidedly Irish accent, "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! There'd better be a good reason for this abduction, or I will be … how do you toffs say it? Put. Out."

"Put her down at once, Mr. Connolly. We are in need of Professor Sprout's expertise, otherwise we would not have disturbed you." Amusement crept into Minerva's tone, yet she kept her usual ramrod straight posture even as she lifted her eyes up to the heavens.

"Mood killer," chuckled Pomona as she slid out of the man's very well defined arms. She pecked a kiss on his lips as she regained her feet. "There's a promise for you. You just, stay right here, hmm?"

Severus held a measure of sympathetic admiration for Connolly. The Irishman held his tongue, casually straightening his belt with irritated intensity.

Pomona's hair floated about her head in a silver nimbus as she smiled cheerfully and said, "How may I help you?"

CCXI

Before Severus could open his mouth to explain, the Hufflepuff had already done the math and her smile fell away in dismayed understanding. "Oh, you poor dear. Where is your bride? I'd hoped that was all settled."

"The May Queen is a guest in my liege Lord's court, I am afraid." Puck had no trouble butting in. "And these gentle folk hope you have the key to find the daur."

Clearing his throat, Severus sought to explain further, given her confused expression. "Hermione was dragged out of our realm into the next as she battled to shut out dark creatures who'd slipped through because of the corruption we seek to cleanse tonight. I tried to save her, to follow her but it was too late."

Pomona was not put off by his lack of proper clothing and wrapped Severus in a warm embrace. "How awful, Severus. You have waited for happiness for so long as it is." She stepped back, patting him on the cheek as she had once done for him as a lost child, many years ago. "And this door will allow her to return to you?"

Severus straightened his shoulders, and said, "That is my ardent hope."

CCXII

Connolly grinned, "Worried, Snape?" The Irish Quidditch player continued, "I saw you two together earlier. Hermione Granger is a force of nature. That lass will claw a hole in the fabric of reality to get back to you, the way she looked at you." He waggled his eyebrows. "You still got it, Professor."

Frowning, Severus summoned the marriage bond. "It is not a lack of will, Mr Connolly." His memory supplied details: Gryffindor, class of 1988, P in Potions. "She's lost, and must find her way back."

Clapping Severus on the shoulder bracingly, Connolly said, "Well, then call her home."

CCXIII

Severus' discussion with Pomona's strapping young Irishman was interrupted by Minerva, "This is all very touching, but first we need to find this Sacred Oak Tree." She added as an afterthought, "Preferably before I die of old age."

The Herbologist clapped her hands with recognition. "You meant That daur. I know the very one. When I was just starting at Hogwarts, my Grandmother introduced me to the Sacred Oak, and I received her blessing." Pomona was misty eyed as she gushed, "I was so relieved when I discovered she'd weathered the battle. It was a miracle from the Goddess herself."

CCXIV

The old Severus would have resorted to legilimency on Professor Sprout to expedite this debriefing. The new Severus asked through gritted teeth. "Is the Sacred Tree very far from here?"

Pomona focused back on Severus and shrugged. "By broom, not far. It won't be easy to find in the dark."

The sun had set two hours ago, and Severus' instincts insisted that with every minute that passed, the chances of recovering Hermione dwindled.

"I'd love to give you a ride on my broom, Pomona." The Irishman patted his pocket suggestively.

Severus ignored the banter, thinking only of the task ahead.

CCXV

Hermione hated flying. Worse, she'd discovered that birds could get air-sick.

The wind sprites buffeted her owl body about for their amusement, and she tried in vain to escape by tightly folding her wings. Here in the Otherlands physics had no agency.

The friendly sprite whispered a warning in Hermione's ear, "Brace yourself, we approach the King's Court!"

Abruptly Hermione was forced to transform back into her human shape. Turning mid-air, she tucked her head down and hit the cold hard ground, tumbling several times before she finally stopped in a heap.

A tall fae stood over her, laughing cruelly.

AN: Thanks to Qdrew for her beta assistance! Written for grangersnape100 Spring Fever challenge.