A/N: Bonus chapter, because this one's so short.

Happy holidays!

Anti-Litigation Charm: I do not own.

Please review! ;)

By Friday, everyone knew about the dragon. Most of the students had stopped by to visit it at one point or another, though they kept their distance. The Heads of House, while certainly glad that Hagrid was enjoying himself, were understandably concerned about the prospect of having a dragon—no matter how small—on the grounds, but the Headmaster's word on the matter was final: Charlie was allowed to stay.

Hermione herself approached the dragon, genuinely curious to see the beast up close and at her leisure. It seemed to recognize her, and a dangerous trail of smoke spewed from its nostrils, but it didn't attempt to breathe fire. It did however seem to be very fond of Hagrid. Hermione bore no grudge against Charlie, and was just pleased that all things considered, the situation had resolved itself rather well.

Hermione was quite happy about the fact that she no longer had to hide herself in the hall, but just as Sirius had felt odd going about in public again, she felt similarly exposed. She enjoyed teaching, and she was an easily likable teacher, even if some of the students thought she was strange and over-exacting. But naturally, it wasn't all sunshine and roses and tamed dragons: Hermione spent evenings between grading essays to pore over her notebook, trying to find a clue that would help her decipher the Dark Lord's actions and explain his motivations.

Severus placed his hands on her shoulders one evening, when she had stayed up well past midnight, urging her to go to bed. He was being summoned less often, because Hogwarts was still closely watched, but Hermione was keeping the letters and missives he received from the Dark Lord and hiding them away in case they yielded clues. Hermione found herself privately glad for this, because even though it severely restricted Severus's ability to collect information, it meant he was safe—as safe as a servant of the Dark Lord could be, at any rate.

The second Saturday since the beginning of term was the glorious opportunity to sleep in that Hermione had been looking forward to all week, and yet, despite being curled up in Severus's arms, her mind simply wouldn't quit. Her head churned with the next lessons on Monday, concern for Severus's position with the Dark Lord, broken clues as to what Voldemort was actually up to, and the Quidditch try-outs Harry had finally scheduled for the following Saturday.

"What was on that train?" she murmured out loud, more to herself than to Severus, but it caused her husband to lift his head to look at her.

"Do you ever stop thinking?" he asked, resting his cheek against her breasts.

"No," Hermione answered absently, running a hand through Severus's hair. "I'm just trying to picture why the Dark Lord would go through the trouble of acquiring a dragon to attack the Hogwarts Express. If there was something he wanted on the train, wouldn't he have sent his Death Eaters to collect it?"

"That would make sense," Severus agreed, closing his eyes and leaning into Hermione's touch. "Perhaps he meant to crash the train? It would be a rather undignified way to kill Potter, but he doesn't particularly care about who gets in the way of his machinations, and he's never been above underhanded methods. The reason he hasn't done something like this before is because he's always wanted to kill Potter in such a way as to prove his superiority."

"Yes, this isn't like him," Hermione said, tousling Severus's black locks. "It either means he's decided it doesn't matter how Harry dies, or there was something else on that train he wanted. I've considered the possibility that he only meant for the dragon to stop the train, and that by knocking it off the tracks, the passengers would be too stunned to provide much resistance against Death Eaters that would arrive after the initial attack. After all, Harry's managed to go toe-to-toe with them before, and he's not the only one. It's a likely possibility, though we may never know, as Charlie never did quite get around to stopping the train."

"It's a distinct possibility," Severus allowed.

"Which leads us back to my first question," Hermione said. "What was on the train?"

~o~O~o~

Harry and Ron stopped by her office later that day, and Hermione invited them to help themselves to tea and biscuits while she graded essays. They happily helped themselves, and made themselves at home in the two available, cozy armchairs. Hermione had done a number on the office since recovering it back from Umbridge, and any of the plates, kittens, and pink frippery that remained had been most thoroughly disposed of.

"Who keeps giving you those?" Harry asked, gesturing at the fresh rose on her desk. She seemed to move it from her classroom to her office, depending on where she was working.

"Oh," Hermione said, looking up. Her cheeks flushed faintly pink as she replied, "Severus does."

"Romantic," Ron said, glancing at Harry, as though unsure of what to make of this.

"Oh, no. He steals them from Professor Sprout's greenhouses," Hermione said, bending back down over the third-year essay she was working on. "He knows it drives her up the wall."

Ron snorted, but tried to disguise it as a hacking cough.

Harry's eyes landed on Gaunt's ring, and he frowned. "Where did you get that?" Hermione glanced up at him again, and he added, "Dumbledore showed me some memories last week, for my first lesson. That's the same ring that used to belong to Marvolo Gaunt, isn't it?"

"All in good time, Harry," Hermione said, going back to marking up the essay. She knew what memories Harry was referring to—Dumbledore had shown her the very same. "You're right, of course. It did belong to Marvolo Gaunt."

Ron's eyes widened. "So why do you have it?"

"Dumbledore wanted me to keep it," Hermione said, without looking up. She knew what the ring was purported to do, but truth to be told, Dumbledore's behavior in the shack had frightened her. While she had no qualms about wearing the ring, the idea of testing out the stone's properties no longer appealed to her. And she knew Dumbledore still didn't trust himself not to try.

"So it's yours?" Harry asked curiously.

"For now."

The conversation switched to the subject of Charlie, Harry's Care of Magical Creatures lessons, and the attack on the Hogwarts Express. Harry, it turned out, was starting to enjoy the class—as the only student, it meant he and Hagrid often got to spend time together and tailor the lessons to interesting subjects that would normally get passed over.

"We feed Charlie first, and then we usually go into the Forbidden Forest," Harry recounted. He had finally warmed up to the idea of having a dragon as part of his class, if only slightly. "Yesterday, Hagrid brought one of the Aurors over—"

"I didn't know Aurors counted as sixth-year magical creatures," Hermione deadpanned without looking up, but she was smiling.

"No, but he had a Kneazle with him," Harry grinned. "It turns out Scrimgeour sent a couple people from the department that regulates magical creatures over to law enforcement, and gave the Aurors two months to figure out how to work with them."

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand. "You're kidding."

"No, but it worked, didn't it?" Harry said.

"How big are those things?" Ron asked, picking up a biscuit. "We've only got two of them at Hogwarts, and I haven't seen them yet."

"They're quite like small lions," Hermione remarked, before Harry could respond. "And the reason you don't see them is because they patrol the corridors while you're in class, and take the grounds in the early morning and late evenings." She re-inked her quill, and scribbled her final remarks on the third-year essay before picking up a new one from the pile. "They're trying to avoid the students, they want to be as undisruptive as possible. The rest of them are stationed in Hogsmeade, I believe."

"Speaking of kneazles," Ron said, suddenly sitting up straight. "I just remembered, we saw Crookshanks—"

Harry quickly stamped down on Ron's foot, but it was too late. Hermione's head snapped up.

"So?" she asked lightly, but Harry could sense the danger behind her words.

There was a moment of silence, and Ron turned to look at Harry, as though begging him for rescue. Harry just shook his head.

Hermione set down her quill.

"What do you think you saw?" she asked, chewing on the pad of her thumb. Neither of them answered, and she added impatiently, "Spit it out, please. I promise I won't hex."

"I… there's a first-year with him," Ron said, looking at Harry for guidance. "He, uh, his name's Selenius, isn't it?"

Hermione felt as though someone had slugged her across the face. Several different scenarios in which the Dark Lord discovered Selenius's existence flitted through her mind, but she managed to shove them aside to ask the most important question: "How?"

"How… what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"How did you know?" Hermione said, leaning forward. "What made you realize it?"

Harry took a moment to think this over carefully.

"Well, he says his name's Black, and he has Crookshanks with him," Harry said slowly. "But I've never seen him. He's obviously associated with the Order in some way, but the pieces involved didn't fit. I don't think anyone else would notice, though—no one else would know that."

"He hasn't said or done anything unusual," Ron said with a shrug, but it was clear to Hermione that he was trying to placate her. "He doesn't stand out more than anyone else, unless you count the fact he's willing to fight for the armchair."

Harry let relief overtake him when Hermione's lips quirked ever so slightly upward at this. The armchair was the coveted, comfortable position in the Gryffindor common room that the upperclassmen usually staked a claim on, and which first-years were often kicked off.

"So… he's your kid," Harry said at last. "His name's really Selenius Snape, isn't it?"

"Are you continuing to practice Occlumency?" Hermione asked quietly. "Every night?"

"I do the exercises," Harry said truthfully, "but I don't really feel the link anymore. Dumbledore thinks Voldemort's trying to Occlude me now, he didn't like what happened when he tried to possess me."

"True," Hermione murmured, chewing on the tip of her quill.

"We won't tell anyone," Harry said, exchanging looks with Ron. "Right?"

"Not a word," the redhead promised.

Hermione looked down at her desk.

"I've tried to give him space while he's here, because even though I have him in my classes, I can't hover around him," she said quietly. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I have to let him grow up on his own. But I gave him Crookshanks." She got a faraway look in her eye for a moment, before her gaze snapped back to the two of them. "Will you look after him for me? Keep him out of trouble, just—keep an eye out, in case it looks like someone's getting suspicious?"

Ron snorted. "That's what mum said when Ginny first came here, and look at her now."

Hermione allowed herself a small smile. "Yes, as if Ginny needs anyone to look after her with a Bat-Boogey Hex in her arsenal."

~o~O~o~

Hermione, like the rest of the school, came out to watch the Quidditch trials next Saturday. When she found a seat in the stands and surveyed the pitch, she found herself wondering if almost all of Gryffindor house had decided to try out. Selenius was among the first-years, and she saw him holding the sleek handle of his broomstick, though she was absolutely clueless when it came to discerning one model from the next. Harry seemed to be at a loss for a moment, and then he finally seemed to get his act together, and sorted the applicants into groups and sent them to do laps around the pitch.

This appeared to be a good decision. Selenius was in the group of first-years, and Hermione winced when she realized that the rest of the competition had clearly never flown a broomstick before, as evidenced by multiple crashes. But her son was clearly a practiced flyer, and when Harry called him down, it was to stand over by the other hopefuls.

Halfway through the seventh group's trial, which seemed to be going much better than the previous six put together, Severus came to sit next to her, not saying a word.

"You missed the show," Hermione commented, glancing over at the group of giggling Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who had been ordered off the field a half hour earlier.

Severus snorted, but said nothing.

The next two hours were painfully entertaining to watch, but Harry finally cut the competition down to the most serious players, and then divided them into groups based on the position they were trying for. Selenius went to stand with the Chasers, quietly waiting with about twenty other applicants, all of whom towered over him. He was easily the shortest member of the group.

Harry, tired and having already screamed himself hoarse from earlier fiascos, seemed to be at a loss as to how to proceed. And then he rallied, and told the prospective Chasers to split into four groups of five. He picked the first group, and threw them a Quaffle, and told them to practice passing it around. Many of them fumbled. Some dropped repeatedly, and others had a weak throw. Harry weeded them down to ten in this way, and it seemed he finally considered this to be a manageable number, because he sent Ron to play as Keeper while the Chasers tried to get past him.

Hermione glanced at Severus, trying to discern what he was thinking, but his face was as stony as ever. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to watch this or not—Quidditch was important to Selenius, she knew that well enough, but she felt as though he might be outclassed by the older, more experienced students. No one liked to feel helplessly overshadowed. She watched as Harry went through several of the Chasers, occasionally getting into a shouting match with the ones who did particularly poorly but wanted another go. Then Selenius was up, and Hermione saw Harry pause, and then hold out his broomstick. Hermione didn't understand what he was doing for a moment, until she saw Selenius hold his out, and realized that both brooms were perfectly identical. Both boys were grinning.

She shot up in her seat, immediately plotting just what she was going to do to Sirius the next time she saw him; beside her, Severus was quietly snickering at her predicament. The next moment, Selenius mounted his Firebolt, and took to the air with the Quaffle under his arm. Harry flew into the air in front of Ron, and as with the other students, tried to steal the Quaffle from Selenius while the first-year attempted to get past him and then score on Ron.

"I am going to kill Sirius," Hermione said quietly.

Severus had his arms crossed over his chest and was bent slightly, chin tucked over his chest, quietly doubled over with silent laughter. It was fortunate that no one was paying attention to them; otherwise, it would have been difficult to explain why the Potions Master was helplessly sniggering over the fact that Harry Potter and Selenius Black both had a Firebolt.

"You knew about this, didn't you?" Hermione hissed in his ear.

"Of course I did," Severus said, recomposing himself, but still smirking. "Who do you think he asked first about getting a new broomstick—you or me?"

Hermione buried her face in her hands.

Several minutes later, Severus was tapping her shoulder, indicating she should look up. Selenius was standing next to Ginny Weasley and Katie Bell, and Harry had moved onto the next group. One of the prospective Chasers was storming off the field with a broken Comet Two-sixty, and Harry was looking rather as though he wished these trials would just get themselves over with one their own. Hermione blinked, not quite comprehending for a moment, and then she uttered, "He made it?"

"Apparently so. Potter now seems to be enduring a similar charade with the Beaters."

Hermione saw Selenius standing quietly, broomstick slung over his shoulder, but he was smiling as though he had just been handed the world.

Please review!

-Anubis