We Were Dreams Not So Long Ago, a harry potter fanfic

Summary: SSHG, AU, Hermione's peers band together and finally do something on a united front: get rid of Hermione Granger. Only what exactly did they do?

Beta Love: Dutchgirl01, The Dragon and the Rose, and a drive-by DeepShadows2

A/N: I wrote this while fighting a fever and a stabbing headache and praying it's not COVID. Please forgive any random grammatical goofs and strange errors that may pop up due to my 101.5 fever. Oh, and poor Dragon has a sinus cold kicking her butt, so double your pleasure, double your fun! (Whee!)

This is for the Potions & Parchment SSHG Holiday Gift Exchange. My victim is: dunderheaded_ninny_muggins

We Were Dreamers Not So Long Ago

Bullying is so common that it's viewed as almost 'normal,' but it should never be.

Choi Si-won

Student Vanishes During Altercation at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

A Hogwarts student inexplicably vanished during an unfortunate bullying incident at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, resulting in teachers demanding much stricter rules and punishments for various acts of which the current headmaster has always insisted were innocent mischiefs or "childish pranking."

"Pranking is a perfectly normal occurrence at any school for children, whether magical in nature or otherwise," Headmaster Albus Dumbledore stated at a board meeting.

Several Ministry officials, including a number of Aurors and Unspeakables who were called in to investigate, claim that the extent of the magic used and the degree of magical backlash that occurred as a result of the so-called "prank" suggested a far more insidious and malicious intent by the young pranksters in question.

While officials remain tight-lipped about the extent and nature of the "magical backlash" set into motion by the actions of the student perpetrators, rumours we have learned of from a few Hogwarts students (who prefer to remain anonymous) have tipped off our reporters that the group of students responsible for the "prank" that led to the disappearance of Muggleborn student Hermione Granger have been inflicted with wild manes of uncontrollably bushy hair and enormous buck teeth that have, to date, resisted any and all forms of magical alteration.

The headmaster for Hogwarts had reluctantly agreed to the Ministry's demand for stricter monitoring and rule enforcement with regard to acts of bullying and pranking at the school as the loss of the Muggleborn student has led to great concern and unrest amongst the majority of Muggle parents who are demanding equal justice for their children.

"That bloody bastard is sitting up there all smug and really enjoying this," Ron hissed angrily as he stuffed a whole barbecue chicken wing in his mouth.

Harry eyed Ron with a rather pinched expression, his green eyes casting over the unmistakable crown of bushy bright orange hair on his head. The boy's newly elongated front teeth made him look like a mad ginger beaver, and his constant stuffing of random food into his perpetually open craw made the obnoxious youngest Weasley boy look every bit as distasteful as he sounded.

Percy, who had attempted to set his youngest brother's person to rights with spells, had only gained himself a fine head of bushy ginger curls and buck teeth, and he snarled a spell at his little brother, making his mouth suddenly disappear. Ron's subsequent frantic flailing caused all sorts of food to go flying across the table, causing the whole of Gryffindor to take their own hand at beating down the loudmouthed youngest Weasley son with extreme prejudice.

The headmaster called a stop to the violence, sending the entire house back to its tower without the rest of their dinner, shaking his head in dismay. He, too, sported a bushy crown of silver curls with a matching beard and buck teeth, having attempted to reverse the magic on the youngest Weasley as well as the other students involved in the shameful pranking of the missing young Granger girl.

Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson stared into their empty plates with a most unusual silence and very red faces, their new bushy manes and grossly enlarged front teeth telling a story that was pretty hard to ignore. Crabbe and Goyle, far too busy stuffing their faces, didn't seem to even notice, much less care what their hair or teeth looked like.

A dark shadow was cast over them, and the Slytherin table cringed as their black-eyed head of house glowered down at them with severe disapproval. His stern countenance said everything without a single sound being uttered, and the flat press of his lips caused the young students to hastily scramble out of the Great Hall in a flurry of panicked movement.

The potions master swept from the room, his black woollen robes billowing behind him with an impressive swirl of fabric.

SHOCKER: Defence Against Dark Arts Teacher Exposed as Host of He Who Shall Not Be Named!

The attempt to dispel a spell upon an afflicted Draco Malfoy has led to the exposure of a teacher at Hogwarts being the host to the possessive spirit of You-Know-Who.

Ex-Professor Quirinus Quirrell, in an attempt to rid Draco Malfoy of an embarrassingly persistent physical transformation, was immediately affected by a surge of magic that transformed his hair in such a way that it caused his turban to be cast off. The loss of the turban exposed the face of YKW amidst a large bald patch on the back of his head framed in a wild halo of riotous curls.

A large team of Aurors, hit wizards, and Unspeakables immediately descended upon Hogwarts yet again to contain the ensuing chaos.

Mr Quirrell has since been confined to the high-security wing in Azkaban under both human and Dementor guards. Since YKW was sentenced to the Kiss, the Dementors rendered the once Dark Lord soulless and drained of all magic. While Quirrell, the host, has not been entirely absolved of his involvement, the parasitic relationship with hosting YKW's soul possession has rendered him catatonic and drained of all traces of magic as well.

Guards, however, are remaining in the castle to ensure that there are no surprise "revisits" from any residual possessions.

Inexplicable Fires Ignite All Across Britain and Sudden Landslide Occurs Off Coast of England

Gringotts, Hogwarts, and other places in Britain have had to stamp out several odd spontaneous Fiendfyres that erupted seemingly at random. A Muggle neighbourhood in Islington, London had to be extinguished and Obliviated after the Ministry had to send in a team to fight the Fiendfyre. Gringotts contained the fire in the solitary vault that was affected: the Lestrange vault. All contents in the vault were destroyed. The Malfoys reportedly also had a fire erupt in their family library that destroyed a few rooms before it could be successfully contained. A sudden blaze at the Riddle property in Little Hangleton destroyed half the village before it, too, could be contained.

Aurors are unsure as to the cause of these spontaneous and seemingly random fires, but no further incidents have occurred since Saturday.

Severus stood silently next to a red-faced Ronald and Percy Weasley as they arrived at the Ministry. Snape's expression was closed and darkened with annoyance, his thin lips pressed tightly together and eyebrows slightly pinched. A rigid muscle in his jaw twitched ominously as the two Weasley boys seemed utterly devoted to tearing into each other.

"Snape."

"Auror Moody."

The grizzled wizard scowled, stomping his peg leg on the stone floor.

"You're not welcome here."

"I am here, regardless of your welcome."

"Tell me your business and get out," Moody barked.

Snape's black eyes cast to the right to scan the Ministry Atrium. "Last I looked, the Ministry atrium was a public place."

Moody got in his space. "Not for Death Eaters."

"Ex."

"Leopards don't ever change their spots."

"Rosettes."

"What?"

"They are called rosettes."

Moody's face turned purple as he looked ready to erupt.

"Ah, there you are, Professor Snape," a smooth velvety voice said.

Moody's head suddenly jerked to the side.

"Madam Bones," Snape said, his head inclining a fraction.

"Auror Moody," the woman said sharply, pressing her lips together in a flat line. "Leave us."

"Yes, ma'am," the old Auror said with a tightened jaw, stiffly walking away.

The woman's eyes narrowed as she looked at the two boys, and the two Weasleys seemed to swallow their tongues with her regard. "I see you know who I am," she said.

The boys gave a stiff nod, their Adam's apple bobbing as they swallowed.

"You are here to see one of the best magical healers in our world, Mssrs Weasley," Amelia said. "I did not have to authorise it. Remember that as you walk these hallowed halls."

They nodded, silent.

Madam Bones turned and walked away. "Follow me."

As they walked through twisting corridors, the two boys became increasingly uncomfortable. Madam Bones' footsteps were lighter and her stride far longer than her height suggested. They passed by quite a number of increasingly dour-looking gargoyles, their monstrous features becoming increasingly intimidating until they reached a set of stone gates with a swirling portal.

Two stone figures of Unspeakables in their distinctive hooded robes and face-covering headdresses guarded the swirling vortex. Pale green and blue magic swirled around a starfield of space and plasma.

"This way," Amelia said.

"Nuh-uh!" Ron blurted.

"I'm not suffering this magical curse anymore because of you and your childish nonsense," Percy snarled at him, shoving Ron into the vortex before stepping in himself.

Amelia looked at Snape with a weary expression. "Were they always like this?"

"Worse."

"I'm surprised you haven't murdered them."

"I'm surprised they haven't murdered each other. That would be far more satisfying."

Amelia huffed. "Not worth the paperwork."

"Alas," Snape said, his lip curling.

Amelia sighed and stepped into the vortex. "Do try not to murder anyone on the other side."

Snape's eyebrow twitched at that. "Yes, ma'am." He stepped into the vortex after her.

As Ron and Percy hurled into some nearby conveniently located buckets marked "Shoot the Cat" and "Chunder Ahoy." The buckets magicked away the foul mess and then emitted a pleasing minty-fresh odour.

Amelia walked by them silently, paying them no heed as she signed the book on the desk. "I'm taking them back to the healing grove, Hannah."

The witch at the desk eyed the two students as Snape exited the platform with a weary expression on his face. "Do you want magic suppression collars on them?"

"Yes," Snape said as he walked by.

"No," Amelia said, giving a roll of her eyes.

The desk witch's lips twitched slightly.

Snape walked by the desk, waving his hand over a crystal on the desk. It glowed a bright blue, and his robes turned completely white as a silver circlet materialised on his forehead and shining gauntlets covered his arms and fingers— the distinctive uniform of the Unspeakables' elite. He tilted his neck, the bones cracking as they realigned. He left with a swirl of cloth that proved it didn't matter what he was wearing; he would always billow.

Amelia sighed. "Impatient git."

The witch at the desk chuckled. "You say that as if he's changed at all in the last nine years."

Amelia let out a long sigh. "Cover them with the Obliviation clause, Hannah."

"Yes, ma'am," Hannah replied, making a fluid gesture with her wand as a beam pegged both young Weasleys square in the forehead. "If you attempt to reveal anything you see here to anyone on the outside, your memories will be instantly erased. Upon leaving here, everything from the moment you stepped beyond the portal will be erased. Should you attempt to retrieve any memories that have been wiped, both you and whoever was attempting to perform the extraction will have your memories permanently erased. Is this understood?"

The boys gulp-nodded at Hannah.

"You may proceed inside," she said. "Have a nice day," she drawled sweetly.

The two boys shambled forward in front of Madam Bones with stiff-legged shuffling.

Ron and Percy stood by a placid-looking mirror pool where marble statues of Asclepius and his caduceus staff, Bhaisajyaguru seated with a medicine bowl, Brigid the Irish goddess of healing, Dhanvantari the avatar of Vishnu, Isis, Ixchel the Mayan jaguar goddess of healing and medicine, and even more circled the natural area. A waterfall cascaded down from high above, and other statues stood both in natural crags, ledges, and around the pool.

Amelia sat down on a stone bench with some soft-woollen hide lay across it.

The boys fidgeted uneasily.

Snape was already there, standing at the edge of the pool. He lit a candle at the feet of the statue of Asclepius, and the fire spread to the other statues, casting them all in a soft blue glow. A high scree sounded off from somewhere nearby, and the beat of something huge sounded like a heartbeat in the dead of night.

The boys scrambled backwards as they saw the shadow of a great winged shape fly out from under the waterfall, droplets of water scattering in all directions with each wingbeat. A great beast on leathery wings moved toward them, the beams of light broken by each stroke of wing.

The creature, which resembled a bat only in part, shared characteristics of various beasts amalgamated into one cohesive nightmare. It landed on the bank with a great wind stirred by its wings, dark brown eyes glowing a lighter amber. The creature's mane seemed impossibly thick and curled, writhing as if alive. A long, serpentine tail lashed as the beast settled.

"Severus," it rumbled. "Welcome home."

The wizard walked forward into the beast's winged embrace. "Hello, love."

He shed all pretences of being human, his body transforming into that of a great bat-creature as they met together in a snuggle.

"He really is a bloody bat!" Ron blurted, his eyes wide as saucers.

Glowing amber eyes focused on Ron as the female creature released Severus from her winged embrace with reluctance. "Mssrs Weasleys," a female voice rumbled. A forked tongue flicked, tasting the air in front of her. She peered at their current state of hair and teeth. "I've been told of your, ah," she said, pausing, "most unfortunate predicament."

"That thing is a healer? No way I'm letting that touch me!" Ron yelled as he backpedalled.

The creature seemed to whistle and click, sounds too high for a mere human to make. Her ears twitched. "That is indeed your choice," she said. "I have others who are far more in need than you for healing."

The black bat creature snorted, a cloud of green vapour escaping his nostrils, and Ron immediately pissed himself, the unmistakable stain and stench of urine spreading across his trousers.

"Turning down the very best healer short of Manfred himself," Moody grunted as he walked by. His demeanour seemed to have taken an abrupt about-face. "You must be a true idiot, boy."

Moody sniffed as the honey brown bat creature squeaked and pounced him, shoving her head against his chest. "Yes, hello, my friend. I'm glad to see you too. Oof. Careful. I am not constructed to withstand vigorous dragonbat handling."

The dragonbat purred, setting her head on his chest and looking at him fondly.

The black male dragonbat huffed and nudged the female with a distinctive sigh. The female used her tail and wing to pull him closer, dragging him on top of Moody too.

Moody wheezed, pretending to die.

There was a thundering screeeeeee-roar as a great shadowy shape flew out from under the waterfall, its vast wings casting rain across the area as it shed the water with each wingbeat. Its body was blacker than the darkest night sky mixed with the deepest of blues of shimmering scales and fur. Both dragonbats on the ground perked instantly at the sound.

The elder dragonbat landed as Ronald let out a pitiful whimpering scream, covering his head as if it would somehow shelter him from what he didn't want to see.

"Ahh, Alastor," the greater dragonbat rumbled, his nostrils snorting out a cloud of steam. "I thought I heard the sound of my daughter trapping a malcontent Auror."

Moody harrumphed. "Not my fault these two delinquents from Hogwarts needed watching, Manfred."

"And how is that watching going from down there?" Manfred rumbled with no little amusement.

"Suitably terrified," Moody said, snorting as the female dragonbat purred in appreciation for the ear rub she was getting from Moody's free hand. "For them, anyway."

Ron was whimpering from within a foetal ball near Amelia who was calmly sitting and reading the Prophet. Percy was standing stiffly in place as if one move would result in his ultimate doom.

"Ah, my beloved Amelia," the elder dragonbat rumbled. "How very kind of you to save me the trouble of pursuing you today. "Have you finally decided to succumb to our long-denied passion?"

Amelia's cheeks flushed slightly pink. "Business, old friend. These two are inflicted by a curse."

Manfred sighed, his wings drooping slightly. "Such a sad day." He turned to the honey-coloured dragonbat. "It is a good thing that my darling daughter is so good at unravelling the cursed body, but what could possibly be so urgent that you would need to bring them here? Are they dying of a withering curse? Will they explode within the hour? Surely this is not about some petty superficial inconveniences of hair and teeth?"

Percy's face reddened significantly.

Manfred extracted Moody from under the pile of dragonbat and set him back on his feet. "And what could possibly be so important that our great leader believes you are worthy of coming here to the sacred seat of healing?" He stared Percy down with a glowing-eyed glower.

Percy, stiff but angry, blurted, "I just tried to help him, and I was cursed as well. I wasn't even involved with whatever he did to earn himself a curse!"

Manfred sniffed, the intake of air practically bowling Percy over. "I'm sure it was all out of the selfless of your heart, wasn't it, boy?"

Percy grit his teeth.

Manfred eyed the pair with disgust. "There is nothing we can do for either of them."

"WHAT?!" Percy cried. "You're supposed to be the best!"

Manfred swivelled his head to look at Amelia. "This is the work of Magic's Judgment. A curse equal to the gravity of the crime. Ask yourself what your cowering brother may have done that could have offended magic enough to warrant such a punishment so that any who attempt to assist him in freeing him from his curse are cursed as well."

Percy, no longer frozen in abject fear of Manfred, exchanged fear for wrath against his younger brother, took Ron by the collar and shoved him against the nearby tree trunk. "What the hell did you do, Ronald Bilius Weasley? What did you REALLY do? Don't give me some cockamamie story about having your feelings hurt and doing some accidental magic!"

"I juss wan' 'her to go 'way!" Ron stammered, half-choking on his own tongue. "We juss made her go 'way!"

"We WHO?" Percy gave him a hard shake.

"Crabbe 'n Goyle, Pansy, she got the curse out of 'er parents' grimoire. Draco, he got all the ingredients. They were finally happy to help me! Said it was about bloody time I pulled my head out of my arse and realised that frizzy little Mudblood bint didn't belong in our school!"

Percy's blue eyes widened in horror, his hands tightening around his brother's collar. "I cannot believe that I actually believed you! I wash my bloody hands of you little tosser! You are not even fit to be a Weasley, but only mum or dad can cast you out of the family. And I truly hope they do. I only wish I could TELL THEM when I leave here exactly why they SHOULD!"

Ronald's eyes seemed to fill with insanity as he cackled raucously. "You won't remember anything, Perce! None of us will!"

Percy's face darkened and he stared his little brother in the eyes. "I will break bread with you no longer, Ronald Bilius Weasley. You are my kin no more. Any bonds of blood and kinship I hereby sunder and renounce. May magic have mercy upon you, for I shall not." He flung his brother to the ground as a crack of magic sealed the Oath and Sundering with the sharp odour of ozone.

"I may not remember the reason, but I will realise I formally renounced you as my kin, Ronald. Magic as my witness, not even mum will be able to refute it." As Percy stood tall in his righteous fury, his cursed hair and teeth swiftly returned to normal.

"Ah, true remorse," Manfred crooned approvingly as he nuzzled his daughter and son-in-law. "The greatest and most effective cure short of true love."

He set his eyes upon Ronald. "For the favour of bringing me my daughter to me thirty years ago, I give to you this one boon. I will let you leave this place alive, Ronald Bilius Weasley. But Time itself was offended by your tinkering. Magic, too, demands its fair pound of flesh. I may leave you alive, but you will live all the while hoping and praying for death. That is my gift to you, mortal whelp. My final judgement."

"Come, Hermione. Severus. My grandbats grow restless waiting for their parents' return." He took to the air with windy gusts stirred by his wings, soaring toward the waterfall before disappearing.

The two younger dragonbats crooned and nuzzled each other before taking to the air, disappearing after the larger dragonbat into the rush of the waterfall.

Ron's eyes were watering with the pain of having been thrown to the ground by his brother's wrath, but he gasped, "She got turned into a bloody monster, that's even worse than being a soddin' Mudblood!"

Just as it looked like Percy was about to have another go at his former brother, Ronald yelped as magic surrounded him in a cloud of retribution and shot up his nose. He choked and gagged helplessly, writhing and convulsing on the ground.

As the dust settled, Amelia and Moody stared down at a buck-toothed and heavily freckled little girl with an enormous bushy mane so dense and massive that she could barely hold her head up straight.

Amelia sighed. "They say you don't truly know a person until you've walked a mile in their shoes."

"Not sure they meant it quite that literally," Moody said, squinting at the new and, er, "improved" Ronald Bilius Weasley.

Percy seemed oddly calm. "Ron always said when he was little that he wished he was like Ginny so mum and dad would pay more attention to him again. Probably not quite what he meant."

Moody sighed deeply. "Be careful what you wish for."

"Daddy's home!"

"Yay!"

Two excited batlings clung to their father's fur, tucking themselves under his wings and against his chest. "You staying with us tonight, Dad?"

Severus gave Hermione a tolerant long-suffering look. "I suppose."

"Yay!" the batlings cried, snuggling into him tightly. "You'll tell us the story of how you and Mummy met, right, Dad?"

"Haven't you heard this story enough?"

"NEVER!" the batlings cried in unison.

"You're both so insufferable," Severus muttered even as he tucked his wing around them. He adjusted his feet on his perch, stretching out his great wings as he yawned. He curled one wing around his clingy spawn and the other around his mate.

Hermione snuggled into him with a purr of pleasure, and she squeaked in satisfaction as they dangled together from the cavern ceiling.

"Once upon a time," Severus began, "a young and lonely boy was taken to the magical world for the first time by his mum … "

Severus woke up in a strange place— a remarkably clean place.

The room was quiet, and the bed was beyond comfortable. It was very much unlike his home. The air smelled fresh and pleasant, a kind of honeysuckle-and-citrus scent that was utterly refreshing.

He stretched experimentally, and for once his bones didn't ache. His muscles didn't protest. He looked at his skin, and the profusion of healing greenish and blue bruises were gone.

Where was he? Was this a hospital?

His da had always forbidden his mum to take "that little freak boy" to the hospital.

He snuggled into the comfort of the bed and blankets. They were warm and clean. He savoured it for the gift it was, hoping he'd get to enjoy them a bit longer.

"Will she survive?" a woman's voice asked quietly. It wasn't his mum's. It was stronger, firmer. This woman sounded like she was used to having her questions answered.

"She is a strong one, Amelia," a low voice rumbled. It was like thunder and a purr combined. "She has accepted my gift. It will permit her to anchor properly to this time and allow her body to heal."

"All that Dark magic residue," the other voice sighed. "Someone must have truly hated her, but to send her through time?"

"Time may have intervened to save her life by bringing her here, Amelia," the other voice said. "The ways of magic and time are fickle indeed, but they can, on occasion, work together to save an innocent."

The air was heavy with unspoken questions.

Severus heard a snort of air as the curtain near him rustled.

"Whatever curse was used was so dark and heinous in nature that magic and time brought her here, Amelia. We can only accept that the need for that to happen was very great. I know you see the immediate deaths out there and wonder why one life could be any more valuable than this one but some things are greater than us. Greater than even our knowing."

"Even yours, Manfred?" the woman said.

"Immortality does not necessarily gift us omniscience, Amelia," the other voice said with a deep chuckle. "Just think of how boring life would be if we knew everything in advance."

"Yet you would give this stranger your gift?" Amelia asked.

"The gift must be accepted by mind, body, and soul," Manfred said. "But it must also accept them."

"So it could fail."

"No."

"Not for her, my friend," Manfred rumbled. "The gift wanted her."

"You dragonbats talk in such riddles."

"We are a riddle," the deep voice rumbled with amusement.

"Insufferable."

"Only the best kind of suffering," Manfred said rather loftily, his tone suggesting it was accompanied by a toothy grin. "But let her rest, Amelia. The first sleeps are for settling oneself both in mind and body. Even when the choice is whole-hearted, it can be incredibly exhausting."

"Will it hurt her?"

"No," the male voice reassured. "Camazotz tucks his children under his great wings of night, honouring their sacrifice by sheltering them from death. We may usher the dead to his embrace, but we become a part of Him that their journeys need not be always one of fear."

"Ironic coming from one that looks like the coming of the apocalypse."

The male voice chuckled. "Many generations ago, this countenance was regarded with relief. For to be taken in by Camazotz was to be spared the pain of sacrifice."

"I cannot imagine a culture based on human sacrifice," the female voice boggled.

"It was a very different time, Amelia. Fear was of life itself, not death. To live was a struggle most believed to be the struggle of the sun god Huitzilopochtli against darkness. To keep the sun moving across the sky, even to keep their own lives, the people truly believed they had to feed their god with human hearts and blood. But, this was a time that also brought war across the continent. War captives made logical sacrifices, and if such things kept the sun moving and the gods happy, what were such people against the wheels of the gods' machines? And, while those today can hardly see such things, to die for your god was the greatest of honours. The very ticket to the afterlife as the greatest of the sun god's army. There are many cultures across the Earth that believe in a way to purchase one's way into the eternal. The Norse believed one must die in an honourable battle. The Egyptians believed in the weight of the soul's deeds against the Feather of Maat. Who is to say which culture is wrong when so many pantheons exist across the world? Perhaps, all of them are right in their own way. Dragonbats are the chosen of Camazotz, but exceedingly few that still live know of this. If he is real, then what of the other gods? Perhaps, only the way in which we show our respects. We change as our gods change, for stagnation is but another path to death."

"Too much philosophy makes my head throb," the woman's voice chided. "I need much more tea for such things."

"Come, let those in the infirmary get their rest," the male voice said. "There will be enough opportunity for worry at another time."

"Spoken like the ageless immortal," the woman said with a soft snort.

"You need not be like me to see the advantage of leaving your worries for more worthy topics."

"Fine, fine," Amelia's voice replied. "Just give me tea."

Severus heard rustling sounds.

"Really? Where in Merlin's did you get this baby bat mug? The Muggle souvenir shop?"

"Enjoy the tea."

Severus heard a heavy sigh, a sip, and then footsteps leaving the room.

He carefully peered around the privacy curtain to see a young girl curled in what seemed more like a nest than an actual bed. The "bed" was like a gently curved bowl lined with innumerable soft pillows and blankets, and she was nestled deep within the mass.

She was looking at him with curious brown eyes. Amber light danced in their chocolate brown, and she tilted her head at him. Two very large funnelled ears swivelled to look at him.

Bat ears.

He stared.

She stared back.

Severus shifted his weight, unsure. "Hi."

"Hullo," she replied, blinking at him. "Can't you sleep?"

"The adults were talking me awake."

She smiled. "My parents used to do that all the time," she said. She frowned shortly after. "Well. They were my parents."

"Were?"

"I've been displaced. That's what the adults here say."

"You moved?"

She frowned. "Um, not exactly."

He stared a bit more at her twitching ear.

She snuggled into a pillow, drooping a bit. "Right place, wrong time."

Severus made a face as he attempted to piece together what she meant, but he kept getting distracted by her ears.

"You can touch them if you want," she said quietly.

Caught with no excuse, he swallowed and reached out over the rim of the bowl and ran his hand over her ears, his eyes widening as he realised how soft and warm they were. They flicked against his hand, and she giggled.

"That tickles."

"What are you?" he whispered.

"Changing," she said quietly. "To save my life."

Severus made a face. She was making little sense to him.

"I wasn't born here," she said as if to answer him. "Time will reject me if I do not belong in this here and now."

Time? Severus vaguely remembered his mum reading him the Time Machine as a younger boy. He didn't really see her as some fugitive Eloi who escaped from the night-fearing Utopia, but she wasn't exactly a troglodyte Morlock either. Whatever she meant by time was beyond his knowledge. He'd often fantasised what it would be like to travel into the future and see what his life would be like (if it would be worth living for) or to go back in time and fix the moment when his da had found out his mum was magical—or find a better hiding spot so his da couldn't have found him to—

But such things were just dreams and well beyond his reach.

He'd thought going to a magical school would have been better but he'd ended up gaining bullies instead— a pack of relentless Gryffindors that made his life a living hell even more than his da did. At least his da usually left him alone if he took care to stay well out of his way.

He'd just been a bit too slow this last time.

He'd wanted to go see Lily, and his mind had been that instead of where his da was. It was all his fault. He should have been paying better attention.

Apparently, his da had been much angrier than usual, though. His mum had never once brought him to the hospital before. This place must be St Mungos—

That was the name of the magical hospital, right?

"Where are we?" Severus asked.

The girl wrinkled her nose, the hint of pointed teeth showing. "The Department of Mysteries, Infirmary Division."

"How did you—"

She pointed to the plaque on the wall.

"Oh." Right, then. Severus suddenly felt quite stupid.

He wondered where or what the Department of Mysteries even was.

His expression must have given his thoughts away because the girl answered, "We're inside the Ministry of Magic. Deep down. Most people don't even know it's here."

"But why am I here?" Severus asked, frowning slightly.

"One of the very best healers in the magical world lives here," the girl said. "He's the one who healed me. Master Manfred Morgan. Madam Bones brought me here to help me."

Severus nervously checked his body again. He didn't feel as if he'd been seriously injured, but a lot of his lingering aches and pains seemed to have inexplicably vanished.

"You were very badly hurt," the girl said quietly. "Your mum carried you in, sobbing her heart out. She said that your father—" She stopped and flushed suddenly. "I'm sorry."

Severus rubbed his arms with his hands and sighed, "S'okay, I'm used to it."

"You should never get used to that!" the girl said, her eyes wide and her ears plastered against her head. "A child should never fear their own parents!" She paused. "Well, maybe if you do something truly horrible—my cousin once ran across the street without even looking and my father tanned his hide for it. He cried while he did it. He was so worried. A lorry almost hit him!"

She paused, placing a hand over her mouth. Delicate pearly claws tipped her fingers, and an alien kind of membrane spread between her arm and hand. "Sorry. People often say that I talk too much."

Severus' face scrunched slightly. "It's okay. Most people don't want to talk to me at all."

"Me either," the girl said. "I'm Hermione, by the way."

"Severus."

"Pleased to meet you."

Severus frowned again, unsure how to respond to pleasantries. Lily was never too keen on pleasantries despite her want and desire to be friends to a lot of people, and his mum was more about avoiding looking anyone in the eye. Slytherin was all about pleasantries, but it was more about formality. This girl, this Hermione, seemed to genuinely be happy to make his acquaintance.

"Same," he said awkwardly. He held out his hand as he would in Slytherin, and her smaller hand touched him. A jolt of warmth spread from her hand into his and up his arm, and when she smiled at him—

Something warm and pleasurable settled in his chest.

He remembered what he'd see Lucius do, and he awkwardly brought her hand up to bow his head and place a kiss in the air just before her knuckles before releasing it.

She smiled serenely at him, her face brightened as though the sun had set it alight. Lily had smiled at him before, but nothing she had done held a candle to the genuine shine of joy in a gesture so simple, even if it was awkwardly done.

"Look, Malcomb, I was right!"

"We shouldn't be in here, Aug!"

"They're holding a creature in the infirmary," a skinny boy said with a sneer. "Looks like a baby harpy."

"We need to leave now, Aug!"

"Come on, Malcomb. Don't be a bloody coward."

Severus whirled around as two boys came busting through the privacy curtain.

"Eh, who are you?" the bigger of the boys said. "Doesn't matter. Get out of the way so we can see the ugly creature."

"Leave her alone!"

"Her, huh? It is a harpy I bet. I bet she's got big breasts!" he pushed Severus. "Get out of the way!"

Severus set his jaw as he refound his feet. "Get out of here!"

It happened so quickly, Severus barely remembered how it started. One minute he was standing in front of Hermione, and the next he was in fisticuffs with two boys that were considerably taller than he was. They were older and brawnier, and they had their wands, but he was born and raised in Cokeworth where he'd had to fight for every scrap of everything. He took them both on with a rage he had been saving up for Potter and his little gang of tormentors, his fists flying and his legs kicking before they could even point a wand at him.

That was the advantage of being Muggleborn.

Magicals didn't even suspect physical violence when they had a wand. They always presumed and assumed that magic was the only answer. He'd bloodied them and kicked them between the legs before they could even cast their first spell—

But there were two of them, and while he took them both on, he still had to focus on one at a time. The other— that taller one— sent a cutting hex at him as he went flying toward the wall with a crack.

He felt his body going numb from the attack, his blood seeping from multiple wounds on his body. All he could see in his mind's eye was them oogling over the "creature" that had done nothing but be kind to him. He couldn't move, though. He couldn't even make a sound.

He saw Hermione rise up from the nesting bowl, her mane of curls writhing with her magic and her wrath. "Get OUT!" she screamed, her voice changing into a pulse of highly concentrated sound. It burst into a cone of force that burst capillaries and eardrums, and the two oogling bullies screamed as they clutched their heads and began to bleed from their nose, mouth, and pores. They scrambled away, whimpering and crying.

He felt her warmth.

"You're hurt," she whispered. "Let me help you. I think I can help you."

He mouthed a response, but it came out as a bare wheeze. "Kay," he managed. He was staring up at the ceiling as she moved over him. He could feel her warmth, and it was comforting.

He felt a heavy vapour settle over him as a cloud of blue mist swirled around his vision. His pain eased. His breathing settled with his heartbeat.

It was then when he saw the changes in her—

Her face was twisted into the muzzle of a bat, only fur and scales mixed across her face in a strange synergy. Glistening fangs flashed as she breathed a cool blue mist over him.

He startled.

He saw her flinch, pain in her expression even one as alien as he stared at.

She began to pull away.

"Nuh—" he groaned, reaching for her. His hands touched her muzzle to connect to that warmth. "Don' go," he whispered.

Her eyes widened as she leaned into his touch, trickles of that same healing mist escaping her mouth.

She moved, and at first he thought she was going to pull away, but she wedged her head under him and pulled him over to the nesting bowl and tucked him inside with her as she continued to breathe over him.

His aches and pains retreated as a feeling of utter rightness settled over him. He'd tried to defend his new friend, and she had defended him right back.

Friend.

This was what friendship was.

This warmth.

This— belonging.

It didn't matter that she was changing.

It didn't matter that she was different.

He heard her croon softly as the healing mist sank into his body and spirit, surrounding him in a cocoon of comforting heat.

It was the last thing he felt as his eyes closed, his body and spirit surrendering to the warmth and healing of this strange, changing girl who was both less and more than human—for if this was what it felt like to have a friend, then he would gladly suffer it all over again.

Two young batlings peered over the edge of the nesting bowl in the infirmary, ears swivelling to catch the various sounds that flooded in from seemingly everywhere. They made various expressions as their brains tried to make sense of it all, squeaking as some of the sounds seemed far too loud.

"I can't take him home like this!" a woman's voice carried from the far room. "His father would kill him!"

"You could live here in the Department of Mysteries," another voice offered.

"I can't!" the first voice protested.

"You can," the other voice answered. "We know you left for the Muggle world so Abraxas Malfoy could not bind you to himself in marriage. He's already bound to another and produced a male heir. You need not worry about that anymore."

"But I'm married!"

"To someone you yourself have admitted would kill your son on sight," another voice joined in. "A man who, in fact, has already attempted to do so upon multiple occasions in the past. Eileen, you wouldn't have brought Severus to us to be healed if you didn't know in your heart that taking him anywhere else, to a place that would permit him to return home, would see him placed in grave danger yet again."

"Your marriage is hardly a healthy one, lass," another voice said, male and rough. "I've seen more than enough discordant, unstable relationships to recognise one that is teetering and burning. I know they bruises aren't fae bloody gardening, 'n' ye didnae go fallin' doon some stairs, eithah. You cannae blame it oan some broom mishanter fur a'm sure ye dinnae hae yin noo, did ye?"

Severus and Hermione just stared at each other, noses wrinkling in confusion. They were pretty sure it was supposed to be English, but the brogue got thicker and more indecipherable as the man continued to speak.

"Must be Scottish," Hermione whisper-squeaked.

"Obviously," Severus squeaked back, his ears twitching.

The words then trailed off into a peculiar-sounding mishmash of strange almost English, and the batlings shook their heads violently as if it would help them clear the cotton out of their ears.

"You needn't worry about them, my sneaky little batlings," a deep voice rumbled as Manfred Morgan lifted his great head over the nesting bowl. His head was larger than the bowl, and his body was curled around it. A dark cloud of warm vapour escaped his mouth, tickling the pair.

The two batlings squeaked in mortification at being caught and having been completely oblivious to Manfred's presence.

The elder dragonbat licked them over, tumbling them about in the nesting bowl, and gave them a few good snorts of a greenish-blue vapour that smelled like fresh-picked blueberries.

The batlings squeaked happily, snuggling into his muzzle.

"There now, my batlings," Manfred crooned. "Dig your claws into my fur, make sure to hold on tight, and I will take you home."

"I get to come live with you, too?" Severus asked.

"Of course."

"But what of my mum?"

"As an adult, she must make her own choices, child. We can only hope that she makes the right ones," Manfred said. "You are now a ward of the Department of Mysteries. The both of you are. It is much safer here for the both of you to live, learn, and gain confidence in the greater world around you. But your mum must find her own path to independence again. She brought you here to save your life, and I think you well know what lay in store for you had you gone back home to Cokeworth."

Severus hung his head at that, quietly acknowledging the truth in Manfred's words. "Will I be able to study at home?"

"You will study all the time here, young Severus," Manfred said reassuringly. "The lessons will be lifelong, but you will find in this place that the true challenge will be in finding enough time in the day to learn everything you wish to know."

Both batlings' eyes grew wide with excitement. They exchanged happy nods.

Severus tilted his head suddenly. "Um. So how was I changed too?"

Hermione hung her head.

Manfred nosed her gently. "The change cannot occur without the desire for it, young Severus. Somewhere deep inside you— you truly wanted it. Needed it, perhaps."

Severus' brow wrinkled at that, but when he saw Hermione's sorrowful gaze, he squeak-pounced her, nuzzling her affectionately. "I don't regret it. Not at all. I just—this is so much more than just finding out I was a wizard. And I have a friend." He looked at Hermione. "I thought I knew what having a friend was. I was wrong."

"Not wrong, Severus," Manfred said. "There are many types of friendship. Some fleeting. Some lifelong. Some are deep and far-reaching. Some prove remarkably shallow and superficial."

Severus mouthed the word superficial as Hermione did the same.

"The surface, my young batlings. What you see but not what is truly there," Manfred said. "Your friendship did not begin with your eyes. It grew here—" He poked their chests with a wing nudge. "A trust so deep that it gave you both wings and an insufferable curiosity to learn the pathway of life together."

"Fear not, Severus," Manfred said kindly. "Your mum will find her own way even as you find yours, and she will be able to visit you whenever she so wishes."

Hermione seemed both happy for Severus but also sad, a strange conflict of expressions chasing across her muzzle.

"And you, love," Manfred said, giving her a tender lick. "For you, I shall be both mother and father, teacher, and protector from all would harm you." He gained a smug look. "I look forward to thoroughly interrogating any future suitors you may have."

Hermione squeaked in discomposure at the very thought of suitors.

Severus shuddered at the thought of a witch as anything but a friend.

They shuddered simultaneously.

"Come, under my wings, and cling tightly," Manfred directed them, stifling a chuckle.

The two batling pups adjusted themselves to nestle under each wing, their toes digging into his fur to anchor themselves. They wing-wrapped themselves snugly around his body and clamped their jaws around the specialised bit of skin that was perfectly positioned for them to cling to.

Manfred deftly wing-walked out the arched doorway and out into the arboretum and took off, his powerful wings carrying them all towards home.

"How were those two delinquents even able to get into the infirmary in the first place?" Amelia demanded. "This is the DoM not a Muggle garden party!"

"The same way they did back when Hermione and Severus were there," a man said wearily as he ran one hand through his silvered hair. "The DoM is well warded against outsiders, but those two are children of Unspeakables. They circumvented the wards because they were authorised to visit the infirmary for treatment."

"Of what?" Amelia snapped. "There is no cure for monumental idiocy like theirs."

"Illness, ma'am," the grey-haired man answered.

"Stupidity and bullying is not a recognised illness."

"They were genuinely shooting the cat, ma'am. In class. The teacher gave them a pass."

Amelia scowled. "And they found out about our newest arrival, how?"

"Rumour, I'm sure of it, ma'am," he answered.

"Bad enough that the Snape boy was hurt so badly in the last altercation before this that Manfred's new batling had to heal him and we had to keep Manfred from tearing two children to pieces, but this lapse in security is unbecoming for the DoM! We have an injured child whose parents are demanding justice for their son. If it weren't for Manfred, the child would have been irreversibly maimed."

Amelia rubbed the space between her eyes with her fingertips. "I'm not mad at you, Alexander. I'm just at my wits end on how two blathering idiotic Nifflers for trouble managed to hurt people within our very own walls."

They flashed a brief understanding smile. "I know, ma'am. It would help if we could transfer the pair out of this location."

"Their parents are off on assignment in Tristan Da Cunha," Amelia said with a shake of her head. The recent volcanic activity may be the result of Wizarding interference or something more sinister. We can't pull them out. The leys are scrambling any attempts at floo communication or magical travel. The last test transport sent us a sample of volcanic rock that turned into ash upon arrival."

"Can't we Obliviate their memory of this place and send them to Hogwarts? Or better yet—a more disciplined school like Durmstrang?"

"Master Healer Richmond!" a young man in trainee healer green ran up.

"What is it, Trainee Haase?"

"Those two boys who broke into the infirmary just yesterday—"

"Yes, what about them?"

"They turned into north Atlantic right whale calves," the trainee said as he caught his breath. The rescue team had to rush and place them in a makeshift aquarium on the spot."

"They—what?" Amelia and Alexander blurted simultaneously.

"I've tried everything I can think of to dispel the effect," Haase said, wringing his hands. "They took some sort of potion, started out with emesis but then turned them into whales."

"Where the hell did they get that potion?!"

"I think they most likely brewed it themselves, ma'am," Haase sighed. "I found the empty vials in the pockets inside their torn up robes. The student ones from the potions classroom."

Amelia's jaw tightened. "Idiots. Bloody idiots!"

Healer Richmond closed his eyes. "Well, sometimes the solution to your problem comes knocking on your door without solicitation, Amelia."

"We will focus our studies on shifting into a human form that cannot be dispelled by conventional means," Manfred directed his attentive batling pups. "This is important as many of our studies are more easily managed with actual hands. And integration with magical and non-magical human society will most often be necessary when travelling outside of the Department of Mysteries."

Hermione and Severus listened carefully to Manfred's instructions as he went through both the lesson plan for the next month and the exercises he expected them to practice together.

"All other lessons will be postponed until you can readily perform this most important task. Do you understand why?"

The two young batlings nodded fervently. "Yes."

"Good," Manfred said. "I don't think I need to say this, but the faster you accomplish this task, the faster you both can start on your other studies."

The pair squeaked together conspiratorily as Manfred's feral grin spread across his muzzle.

The seed was planted, and he knew it would grow into a fine tree.

"Dad."

"Hrm?"

"Do you think I look plain?"

Manfred's head jerked up from the parchment he was reading.

"What brought this on?"

Hermione stared at her homework, her quill pausing over the essay she was writing.

"Jander said that if I was a real shape-shifter I'd have given myself a more attractive face."

A harsh snap of a book being closed signalled Severus' departure from his desk as he stormed toward the door.

Manfred snagged the batling with one wing. "Where are you going in such a hurry, Severus?"

"To Jander's," Severus said stonily. "To murder him."

Manfred pulled Severus to him. "Be at ease. We cannot expect everyone to understand the wonder and advantage of being who and what we are."

"Jander has been a prat ever since we came to the DoM," Severus seethed. "He picks on Hermione every chance he gets."

"It's fine, Severus," Hermione protested.

"It's not fine!" Severus argued. "You've done nothing to him but be civil and helpful! It's not your fault that you're good at your studies and do things right the first time."

Hermione threw her arms around his waist and held him close, burying her face against the line of buttons on his apprentice robes. "Thank you, Severus."

Severus fidgeted, unsure what to do with himself. "Whatever for?"

"Caring."

Severus tentatively placed his clawed hand over her mass of curls and soothed her mane of unruly hair, a deep sigh escaping his mouth. "It is nothing."

Hermione just held him tighter, and Severus wrapped his gangly arms around her with a huff of tolerance.

"You're insufferable," he muttered into her hair, but the lines around his eyes relaxed as he pressed her against himself.

Severus patted Hermione's forehead with a cool rag, his brows knitting together as she barely moved. She took the potion he offered her without complaint, grunting with displeasure at the unpleasant taste. "I know it tastes like arse, but it'll bring the fever down."

Hermione muttered into the pillows, but she didn't spit it back out. "Thanks," she said quietly. Her teeth were chattering, and her forehead was sweating, her mane of hair looking matted and in total disarray.

"I'm useless," she groaned.

"You're just sick, not useless," Severus said with a shake of his head.

"Well, I feel useless."

"Well, you're not," Severus said firmly as he brought a cup of weak green tea with honey and lemon to her mouth. "Drink."

She drank obediently, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Have some rice porridge," he said, dipping the spoon into the warm gruel and waving it in front of her mouth.

She sipped it slowly, grunting but not protesting. "Thank you."

His nose wrinkled as he spooned more of the porridge into her mouth. "Just focus on feeling better."

"You never seem to get sick, Severus," she sighed with a slight squeak to her voice.

"I was always sick as a kid," he said.

"Really?"

He nodded. "Cokeworth… the whole town was always sick with something," he said with a shrug. "Everyone had a cold, and we just continuously passed it around."

"Sounds pretty awful."

"It was one of the few times my da left me bloody well alone," he said. "He didn't want to catch my 'freak diseases'."

"He sounds awful, too."

"I'm free of him now," Severus said grimly. "At least Mum is, too."

Hermione placed her hand over his, her pearlescent claws gently drawing across his palm as she curled her fingers into his. "I'm glad you're here."

Severus' expression softened, the wrinkles around his eyes relaxing. "I'm glad you're here with me, too." His face hardened. "Now sleep and rest, will you? You won't get better if you don't."

Hermione mumbled as her fingers curled into his, her eyes closing. "Nnkay," she whispered into the pillow.

Severus stayed right by her side until she was fast asleep.

"Save me," Severus moaned as he thumped his head on the writing desk.

"What's wrong, Severus?" Hermione asked, her brows furrowing together.

"Cynthia wants me to go out on a date with her."

Hermione tilted her head. "That's good, right?"

"NO!" Severus cried, his face twisting in something resembling pure torture.

Hermione gained a few wrinkles around her eyes.

"Tell her I'm dying of dragonbat plague!"

Hermione frowned. "I doubt she'll believe that.

"You can hex me and make me ill!" Severus insisted.

"I could, but—"

"Please! I have to get out of this!"

"Can't you just tell her no?"

"Don't you think I've tried?!"

Hermione's jaw worked before she made a face. "Oh." She sighed. "Fine, but you're going to feel like genuine crap for a few days."

"I'll take that over having to dodge her ridiculous fawning and neediness!"

Hermione pointed her wand at him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Just do it."

She hit him with the sickening hex, and Severus immediately turned green and emptied his stomach into a swiftly conjured bucket.

Hermione frowned as Severus dragged himself off to wallow in his misery.

"Oh! Hermione!" a sickeningly sweet voice called from the door. "Have you seen Severus?"

Hermione turned and found Cynthia Orpington standing in the door looking eager, her perfectly curled hair framing her perfectly blue eyes and her perfectly ironed clothes.

"I'm afraid he's very sick right now," Hermione told her.

"Oh! I simply must go and take care of him!" she cried, looking like she was going to come in.

"He's unwell and throwing up right now," Hermione said quite truthfully.

Cynthia turned green at that. "Oh! Ew. I mean—" she trailed off, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "I simply can't stand that horrid smell. You'll tell him I'm thinking of him, won't you, Hermione?"

Hermione squinted. "I'll be sure to let him know."

Cynthia dashed off, looking quite green herself.

Hermione shook her head. Relationships were really scary.

Hermione dove into the research and the projects as she always did, but she did so with even more fervour when the other apprentices were looking for dates for their presentation _function?_.

She didn't have time for making nice when cursed patients were suffering. Her project was so close to fruition— a cure for lifecurses— the curse, like lycanthropy, stayed with a person for life or unto death. Surely that meant more than making nice at some presentation and social affair?

"You could just pretend to have lycanthropy," Severus said as he passed her a book. She took it gratefully and flipped through it.

"I've never thought to use my physical shift to pretend I had lycanthropy.

"They probably wouldn't stick around to tell you were 'just a dragonbat'," Severus said with a smile.

"That's horrible, Severus," Hermione said with a laugh. "With my luck, they would believe it and try to get me kicked out of the apprentice program."

Severus grunted. "True they never do anything small around here," he agreed. "Okay, so, I have another solution."

"The Draught of Living Death?"

Severus frowned. "No." He winced, his expression going through a few different ones before settling on one. "Be mine."

Hermione stilled, her hands trembling so much the quill twitched.

"Forget I said anything," he said quickly, taking her response as negative.

"No!" Hermione said. Her hands covered his. "I'd like that."

He blinked. "You—"

His lip trembled as he pulled her to him, crushing her against his body. "Thank Merlin."

Group of Students at Hogwarts Brought Before Wizengamot for Loosing a Werewolf on Hogwarts' Grounds

A group of Gryffindor students, already guilty of being unregistered Animagi, are further accused of setting a werewolf loose during the recent full moon. The werewolf, a fellow student they claim is their "friend" had been manageable around non-humans but having caught a whiff of the unsuspecting residents of Hogsmeade ran wild. Attacking the village and infecting three children and six adults who tried unsuccessfully to intervene.

The children, whose names have been withheld due to their minor status, are to be severely fined for being unregistered Animagi and must serve time in public service under the supervision of the Ministry until the time of their graduation at which point their case will be reevaluated.

The werewolf in question has been sequestered, as they were found innocent of collusion with said friends. The said werewolf was kept in a secured location on the school grounds during full moons that could not have been breached without the "help" of human hands and magic. After Aurors investigated the holding area, they found it more than adequate for the purpose of containing a werewolf during its change. What had not been accounted for was human mischief and manipulation.

The victims of the werewolf attack have been entered into an experimental treatment program at the Ministry. Any further information, however, has been elusive.

Severus stroked the small bird that was perched on his hand, and it fluffed itself. He gently tugged at a breast feather and let it land in the simmering cauldron. The bird sang sweetly, bobbing its head back and forth as if to a tune only it could hear. He gave the bird a little tidbit, and it promptly flew off to devour its prize. The cauldron burbled as the feather sank into it, and the potion turned a dark malachite green.

"It's ready for you," Severus said.

Hermione exhaled over the potion, a deep blue cloud of her breath exiting her mouth and into the potion. It turned a bright, shining emerald green as her breath dissipated.

Severus quickly ladled the potion into the decanter, stoppering it. The potion inside continued to burble, wisps of potent magic swirling within.

Manfred sniffed at the remnants of the potion in the cauldron, his ears swivelling slightly as his nose wrinkled. "I think that it's ready to be tested. The matrix is perfectly stable. The magic bonded correctly. Well done."

The other elders nodded their approval. "We agree."

"If this works," Moody said as he stood by Amelia. "It will be quite the magnum opus for cursed people, beings, and whatever else."

Amelia nodded grimly. "I hereby grant you the authorisation to test it, that they are willing."

"I'm definitely willing," Remus said immediately, stepping forward. "It was because of me that those people were infected."

Severus narrowed his eyes at Remus but nodded. It had been years since he had looked the other wizard in the eye, and they had not parted on good terms. Severus hadn't realised Remus had been a werewolf, but apparently his friends had figured it out and become Animagi in order to "keep him company."

Sadly, for whatever misguided reason, they had thought letting their friend "romp" with them on the green and in the forest was perfectly safe. It might have been true had there been no people about, but Hogwarts was a school, and the surrounding area had people of all walks coming and going from Hogsmeade.

Once Severus and Hermione had successfully mastered shifting into a human form, Manfred had taken them on trips to Hogsmeade on a number of occasions to visit the only all-Wizarding village. There was a certain charm to it, and Hermione had found great fascination as a village that was entirely magical. It was, perhaps, the only thing more interesting to Hermione at the time than Manfred in a human form. The dragonbat was usually unrepentantly inhuman, and to see him in a human guise was discombobulating.

But, when all things settled and were winding down, like any dragonbat worth their wings, they snuggled together in the cavern that was their home and let the world take care of itself. It was easier to let things go, Severus realised, when time was not so short. Long-term goals took an entirely new meaning.

Lupin was, if anything, both easily manipulated and startlingly naive.

He had believed in his friends, and he hadn't ever wanted to lose them.

Severus could, at least, understand that. He couldn't imagine losing Hermione for anything. His letters to Lily had all gone unanswered in the first few years, and he'd given up that habit when he realised he was chasing a ghost of friendship when the real thing was right in front of his very muzzle.

He had been, admittedly, a bit dense back then.

By the time he'd realised he couldn't imagine a life without Hermione in it, he was all a jumble of wings and teeth and claws with a mouthful of peanut butter. All his words failed him. Finesse had failed him. Even simple tact utterly failed him.

It was a good thing Hermione understood him.

Merlin, he'd been such a basket case.

But she'd agreed to be his.

His someone.

His everything.

And if anyone could understand his incessant need for a wing snuggle at the most impossible times, it was Hermione.

He'd spent so much time avoiding the advances of various apprentice popularity seekers that he'd almost let Hermione believe he wasn't interested. Hell, he'd spent so much time avoiding things that he almost believed he wasn't interested in anything that even hinted at a relationship!

But their friendship had always been a lifesaving anchor in an oft stormy sea.

Something reassuringly solid and reliable.

Even his mum couldn't give him that.

Manfred Morgan had been more of a parent than either of his biological parents could be. His da had been a source of shame since the very start, and his mum—

She was still learning to be the witch she had left behind.

But she was—

And maybe one day he would see her as the powerful witch she could be instead of the meek woman cringing from the hand of his da.

So, if it was possible for him to be patient for something like that, surely he could let go of the problem Remus Lupin had been in his short time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry if the wizard actually did wish to change his fate.

There had been a time when he would have held a grudge forever.

Before her.

Before Hermione.

Severus poured a small amount of the potion into a crystal phial and stoppered it. "Take this dose. The full moon is tonight. We will know if it worked soon enough."

He stared at Lupin with impassiveness. "If it works, then others will be saved by it."

"It will work," Hermione said. "The Arithmancy was perfect. The calculations came out perfectly."

Severus placed one hand on her shoulder. "It will."

Manfred snorted a cloud of green vapour, stretching one wing as he itched his ear. "I have the utmost faith in my batlings," he rumbled. "Drink your potion, werewolf, and let magic judge you worthy."

Remus' eyes widened as he took in Manfred's full form.

The dragonbat looked at him unflinchingly.

Remus unstoppered the phial and drank it immediately.

Amelia arched a brow. "Manfred, your subtlety is atrocious."

"With this sexiness, who needs subtlety, love?"

Amelia flushed and waved the dragonbat off. "Go. Take Lupin to the holding cell. We will wait to see what happens as night falls."

Lycanthropy Cure Released by Ministry

Thousands of people flooded the Ministry of Magic this week to get the first tested and true cure to lycanthropy. After rigorous testing over the last few years to ensure permanency, the cure has been released to Britain's Ministry as well as other ministries around the world.

The infamous Fenrir Greyback and a "pack" of his insurgents attacked a Muggle school to kill, maim, and infect allies and were captured and dosed with the cure shortly after public release of the cure. The once-werewolves have already been processed by the Wizengamot and condemned to Azkaban for their crimes. Fenrir, himself, has been sentenced to the Kiss by Dementor due to his long history of attacks on Wizarding and Muggle-kind.

Oddly, reports of helpful Dementor behaviour to the guards of Azkaban have increased, something previously unheard of.

"I never knew Dementors could make, let alone serve tea," guard Simon Hayworth commented. "Turns out they make perfect biccies and tea and play a mean game of Wizard chess too."

While some people have refused the cure stating they don't believe it works and that it's a trick to kill them, the Wolfsbane Potion is still available to registered werewolves.

New laws are being brought to the table that will punish any werewolf caught attempting to harm someone on their moonlit transformation nights to be immediately dosed with the cure and prosecuted to the full extent of Wizarding law.

While those on the Wolfsbane potion are considered safe in comparison to those that are not, one forgotten day in the dosing of the Wolfsbane Potion can and will lead to disaster and tragedy.

I'm sure many readers are asking those afflicted by lycanthropy why they would turn down a cure over locking themselves away three nights of the month.

The creators of the lycanthropy cure are members of the Department of Mysteries and thus their names are not available to our reporters. We at the Prophet are sure that whoever they are, they are deserving the greatest accolades.

"Teaching? At a magical school?"

"A farce within a farce, my love," Severus said, kissing her on the forehead. "Alastor said I will be perfectly suited as a disgruntled half-blood Dark wizard repenting to the side of light— Dumbledore's group of phoenixes."

Hermione frowned. "It will be lonely without you."

Severus took her into his embrace. "It will be agony without you, my love, but Alastor believes Dumbledore is hiding something big. Something carefully hidden under his mask of the doting grandfatherly old wizard. There is another wizard out recruiting people for his cause. A Dark wizard. If I can wedge myself into the group, I may be able to help the Unspeakables put an end to multiple fronts."

Hermione frowned as she placed her head against his chest. "I know you can do it, Severus. But, I worry for you. We've never been apart for so long."

Severus hugged her tightly. "I will see you on holidays. Summers especially. I will write every time I can. When this is over, we will have countless days and nights in which to savour our lives together."

"I'll keep watch over him, lass," Moody promised as he stepped out from the trees. "Keep him on the straight and narrow."

Severus snorted. "He's agreed to treat me like a proper Dark wizard."

Hermione frowned. "That doesn't sound very supportive to me."

"It will serve my facade," Severus said grimly. "If the great Alastor Moody thinks I'm tainted, then the Dark wizards will have less of a time believing I am just the kind of man they want."

"My husband, the Dark wizard," Hermione said quietly. "And here I thought it was just your hair."

Severus snorted softly. "I love you so very much."

Hermione smiled at him. "I love you too. Please come home to me safely."

"I will return to you," Severus swore, his black eyes very serious. "Always.".

Dear Severus,

I hope your position as a teacher at Hogwarts is going well. I still cannot imagine you teaching children. I know you don't hate children, but you do hate incompetence— and let's just say I know we see a lot of that in children, even in the DoM.

Amelia has allowed a few of the friendly Dementors from Azkaban to guard our infirmary, and that has been such a relief. They serve food and bring down fevers, make spectacular tea, and even play games with the patients to keep them entertained while stuck in bed. Dementors! Hah!

We've named the biggest of the lot Grandfather because he's like a doting grandpa on all the healers. He follows us around just in case we need things, and you cannot imagine how much less stupidity we get from people with the Dementors around.

I think what the old tales claim about the Dementors is all wrong— either that or they have evolved significantly since then. They may be Dark creatures, but they react to those around them. When treated well, they treat us well.

I'm still not sure what they eat. I mean—

Traditionally that would be emotions and souls, right?

Maybe they are siphoning off the excess emotions of those in the infirmary. Gods know there are plenty of those floating around. Being sick is always an emotional minefield.

And if Dementors are able to selectively eat excess emotional energy, then we can both coexist peacefully all the time. People and creatures, we always have some pretty strong emotions to spare, and Merlin we most definitely could use a little less emotion from Wilfred Widderfield in accounting. You'd think a few galleons to add a few beds to the infirmary was asking us to cut off his arms at the shoulder and make him quill with his face.

Grandfather is pushing me off to bed—he knitted me an afghan.

I think I'm being mothered.

I miss you and love you,

Hermione

P.S. Manfred says don't forget that humans are not supposed to be able to hear whispers in the back of the room. If you keep catching them at it, they are going to start calling you the dungeon bat or something.

Hermione,

I hate children.

They are incompetent, whiny, lazy, illiterate heathens.

I'm not sure how human children survive to be school age at all.

The things they say! ARGH!

I'm glad you have, now I never thought I'd ever write this, Dementors to help you out. I'll admit all I had to go on was the written word on them. We'd never seen them before. It seems like they are far less creepy as the stories would have us believe. Or, as you said, maybe it was all about treating them well.

I'd like to think—

I really want to believe that anyone can have a second chance at life if given a chance for the better. You gave me mine, and I will never forget that.

I already have the reputation of being the strictest (and probably meanest) teacher in this school.

Glorious.

I think you'd like my choice in school dress, though.

It has many shiny buttons, and I billow whenever I go stomping through the school. You always had a certain appreciation for flair.

I miss you terribly.

Love,

Severus

Dear Severus,

I cannot believe it's already been a week since you visited. I miss you so much already. Poor Manfred has had to deal with a clingy dragon-batling with insecurities while he continues to try and woo ol' Amelia into joining him as his mate.

He keeps trying.

She keeps resisting.

I'm not sure if this is some sort of unstoppable force meeting the immovable object or not.

We all know she cares for him. A lot.

I'm just not sure if it's becoming a dragonbat that scares her or something about commitment after her last husband left her for a siren in the South Pacific.

At least it was a literal siren.

Not that it helps, but—

Maybe after a few more years, she'll realise dragonbats don't ever give up on their dreams. Manfred is a great many things, but he is not a quitter.

I've taken on a healer apprentice, and she's quite talented if a bit too meek. She gets all embarrassed asking the questions we all have to ask. Her face turns red, and she gets all flustered. It's kind of cute, but she'll get better at it. I used to get all out of joint when asking such personal questions, but healers learn all the things about their patients. Sometimes, we know certain things before our patients do.

I've sent you a crate of your favourite fruits with this letter. I shrank and lightened it so that the poor owl didn't have a heart attack. You should have seen the size of its eyes when it saw that crate!

I love you, and I believe in you!

Hermione

Hermione,

Can't write much now. Things are brewing. Albus is growing much more paranoid too.

Thank you for the fruit. You're always so considerate and thinking of me.

Amelia should just give in and let Manfred take care of her. I think she's afraid of being taken care of. She's used to being strong for everyone else, and she feels like she can't ever be vulnerable. But she wants to be. I know how that feels.

I hope she does, even if it isn't right now. She'll feel so much better when she does.

I know I did.

Tell Manfred I understand now why he had me drill so hard with Occlumency. I take back everything I ever said to him in my anger and frustration. I used to think he was being stupidly paranoid.

All my love, always,

Severus

Dear Severus,

I worry so much for you. I heard there was a recent string of terrible Muggle murders. I hope you are safe.

I am sending a crate of healing tonic for when you are forced to stay in human form. It's our own recipe with the special spring water from the underground spring in Chile we visited with Manfred back when we were young batlings.

I breathed my healing breath into each bottle, so you get a little extra healing if you need it. Side benefit, if it's anyone but you, anyone who tries to steal it will be paralysed for a month.

Love,

Hermione

Saved my life.

Snape,

Be ready for orders.

(Letter when breathed on changes to ancient Aramaic cipher)

I know you are working very hard right now, and things are looking more than grim. Know that I love you so very much. I believe in you.

I await your orders.

(Changes into ancient Linear A cypher upon being breathed on by Hermione)

You brilliant, wonderful creature of light. I love you so very much. The potions you have sent have saved my life so many times now. Both in use and in the protective measures you layered on them in case they were stolen.

I've left a few Death Eaters in some nice obvious places for Alastor to find.

Things are getting dark. Murder. Torture.

The Dark Lord trusts no one save for his chosen few to do exactly as they are told (and Merlin never claimed to be infallible, contrary to popular belief and demanded one trust in his greater plan as if he were bloody Merlin himself), and Dumbledore only trusts in himself. He feeds me orders in tiny bite-sized pieces, never once giving me the entire picture. And Alastor gets an entirely different story from him. The only difference between the two is that the dark lord encourages fear and murder.

He seems to encourage Alastor to hound me even while he admonishes him. He is so very duplicitous, and if my ears were not so attuned to hear the lie in his voice (and the smell of it) he would be so easy to believe. He counts on it.

Now tell Amelia that the Dark Lord has woven a jinx on his very name. If you say the word Voldemort he will know who and where you are. Have her make the name a taboo and give it some other moniker like You Know Who or whatever else. It is imperative that the general populace fears his name enough not to use it because anyone who does that is not one of his own people will be tracked, hunted, and killed.

I have attached a list of key places that must be watched. I do not know which ones he will hit, but some of them will, and there will be death wherever he chooses.

The people I "kill" will be hit with a death suspension curse. Only your breath will revive them. You will know their "corpses" by the shockingly blue colouration. Those I dispatch in this manner must be taken into protective custody and moved out of the country or else be sequestered in the Department of Mysteries. No one must believe they survived.

If they do not agree to this, Obliviate them and send them somewhere else far away from Britain.

It is imperative that the Dark Lord does not find out they survived. While lives are important, ending this war is all the more so.

I love you so very much,

P.s. Tell Manfred that I forgive him for making us learn ancient languages that no one uses anymore.

(Dark Mark that moves on parchment)

(Letter written in Ancient Aramaic cypher)

Dear Severus,

I'm so sorry about your friend. I know you both lost touch with each other, but I wish it could have ended differently. I'm thinking of you, and I love you so much.

Yours,

Hermione

Master Healer Snape,

I am relaying this message to you because Severus himself is currently unable to. I was able to get a verbal message from him when "arresting" him on suspicion of Dark magic.

He said he's safe but under close watch. He loves you very much, and he thinks of you always. It's not safe to send him owls. Those, too, are now being watched by Dumbledore.

He said to tell you that your cypher letters were brilliant. Dumbledore didn't suspect a thing, but now that the Dark Lord is dead (probably not permanently), communication from fellow Death Eaters would not be expected.

Sincerely,

Auror Alastor Moody

(Written in Sumerian cypher)

I'm pregnant.

I love you.

Please come home to me, safe and sound.

(Written in Aztec cypher)

I will come home at every possible opportunity.

I love you so much,

(a very disturbing stick figure animation of a wizard being attacked by a man-eating bowl of candy)

(Written in Assyrian cypher)

Hermione,

You will not believe who I saw today in class.

You.

Younger you. When we were kids together you.

I can only hope this means we'll be able to be seen together soon, and I will finally get to thank those people who brought me my wife.

In person.

Yours in anticipation,

Severus

Sirius Black Released from Azkaban, Found Innocent of Muggle Murders, Promptly Duelled Into Submission by Ex-Werewolf Remus Lupin

Sirius Black was released from Azkaban after he was found innocent of killing Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles in London back in 1981. Once believed to have murdered both his friends and the Muggles, Black was sent to Azkaban without a trial due to finding Pettigrew's finger in the rubble with twelve Muggle bodies. Black was found laughing maniacally at the scene, cursing Pettigrew.

It had been believed, due to numerous testimonies from the time, that they had heard Pettigrew accusing Black of killing the Potters.

When Pettigrew's stunned body showed up at the Aurors' office at the Ministry, his memories were taken due to the belief he was an imposter pretending to be Pettigrew. The truth, however, did not exactly set him free.

Only moments after tasting freedom, Remus Lupin challenged Sirius Black to a formal duel of honour for having used him against his will as a weapon in an attempted murder while they were still students attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The broken and battered Black stood no chance against his former friend, and Auror Lupin demanded prompt restitution in the form of telling Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, the unvarnished truth (under sworn Wizarding Oath) about his parents, Sirius Black himself, and Lupin.

Harry Potter was seen leaving the duelling grounds visibly in tears, sobbing his heart out as reality broke his every dream. The Boy Who Lives With A Broken Heart.

Auror Lupin, who has a spotless record of keeping the peace and restoring order in the Wizarding World since the cure of his lycanthropy freed him from Greyback's grim legacy, was seen taking physical blows from the Boy Who Lives With a Broken Heart until the boy finally fell to the ground, sobbing hysterically.

With the threat of YKW's return now in question after the Dementor's dealings with Quirinus Quirrell's possessed body, many of us wonder what this means for the Boy Who Lives With a Broken Heart.

Oddly, a Dementor was seen attempting to bring the Boy Who Lives With a Broken Heart a tray of biscuits and tea only to have the young wizard throw the offering back at the creature and run away.

(photograph of a sobbing Harry Potter throwing tea and biscuits at Dementor)

What does this mean for the fate of the former Boy Who Lived?

We will inform you just as soon as we find out, readers!

Student at Hogwarts Breaks Neck Falling During Quidditch Trial

Ronald Weasley, second-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, fell from his broom and broke his neck during Quidditch tryouts yesterday after purposely sabotaging the safety spells on the practice grounds to "let the best fliers win."

Fourth-year Brady Quinn was found stunned near the enchanted quaffle that acted as the focus for the protective spells, and he accused Mr Weasley of having given him some sort of mind-altering biscuit.

"I think the only reason he survived was his massive bush of hair," fellow student Neville Longbottom told us.

Weasley is currently at St Mungos being treated with Skele-gro and Nerve-gro to treat his current state of quadriplegic paralysis.

The Weasley matron, Molly Prewett Weasley, has demanded that the curse on her family be lifted immediately.

All attempts to ascertain an active curse afflicting the Weasley bloodline and family have been met with failure.

"Have you seen the new Healer working with Madam Pomfrey?"

"Yeah—Madam Snape! She's a wicked great healer! She even fixed old Filch's back pain."

"Can you believe it!"

"I saw it!"

"No, I mean Snape!"

"What about her?"

"NO! I mean can you believe Professor Snape is married?!"

"Are we having," a deep voice drawled, "an important conversation over the evening meal?"

The Gryffindor table promptly went dead silent as many immediately shoved food into their mouths to avoid talking.

"Hn," Snape said as he turned, storming up to the Head Table where he sat next to Pomona Pomfrey and a certain bushy-maned witch.

"He's so SCARY!" the firsties whinged.

"Shhh! He'll hear you!"

"No one can possibly hear that far awa—"

"Fuc—"

Half the students at the table hurriedly left the Great Hall as Snape's gaze snapped back around to glare at them.

Up at the Head Table, Hermione smiled as she pecked her husband on the cheek. "I see your fearsome reputation is as solid as ever."

"Years of ardent practice in the wrangling of inept and imbecilic children," Severus muttered, sipping his tea as he stabbed his salad fork into a tomato.

"Well, it's good you'll have some practice in the wrangling of highly competent children now that our secret is out," Hermione said with a smug smile.

Severus gave his wife a very heated look. "I look forward to it."

"I have a feeling that Grandpa Manfred will have them on their very best behaviour, though," Hermione said wistfully. "They already think he has eyes in the back of his head. Literally."

"And Nana Amelia," Severus said with a smile. "Finally."

Hermione grinned. "You were right. It was bound to happen eventually."

"You doubted she would cave to Manfred's utter devotion?"

"The heart may be adamant, but the brain can be problematic," Hermione said.

"You always seemed confident in my commitment," Severus said.

"I never doubted your commitment to anything you put your mind to," Hermione said with a smile. "I doubted why you'd pick me when there were much more popular, prettier options."

"That's a load of—" He glowered at her. "You are the most glorious specimen of feminine dragonbattery on this side and probably both sides of the world. Why would I choose someone else when I could have such majesty and a proper brain together in one place."

"Sweet talker."

He looked her in the eyes. "No one ever meant anything to me but you."

Hermione's expression softened. "You poor thing. You mean that."

"I will prove it to you when all the children are done fleeing back to their dorms after I catch them in the Astronomy Tower."

Hermione's smile was predatory. "Promise?" She held out a slice of mango on a fork.

Severus took it between his teeth and made it disappear. "I swear it, Madam Snape."

"You two are always talking gibberish to each other," Pomona complained from a few seats over. "We can't even get in a good gossip session with you two."

Severus rolled his eyes. "It's Sumerian, Pomona."

"You speak a dead language?"

"Not so dead," Hermione said cheekily. "Our teacher insisted we learn all the classic languages fluently."

"And I thought my old master was a taskmaster," Filius squeaked in delight. "How fascinating!"

"Now don't you start, Filius," Aurora Sinistra huffed. "I don't want you trying to soak up their ancient languages and start spouting the Poetic Edda in Old Norse."

Filius wrinkled his nose. "You take the fun out of everything, Aurora," he complained.

"That's me," Sinistra replied breezily, taking a bite of her herbed chicken. "Come learn about the stars with me, and then we'll talk."

Filius dug into his food, avidly ignoring his colleague.

"That's what I thought."

Hermione exchanged warm looks with Severus. "I love you," she said in Akkadian.

"And I, you," Severus replied in Coptic with a smug smile. He then snapped his head around and stood, a scowl on his face.

A number of gasps came from the Slytherin table, and a few red-faced students fled the Great Hall.

"So much for Slytherin favouritism," Bathsheba Babbling said as she arranged her carrots into runes.

"If anyone is going to be favourited it should be me," Gilderoy Lockhart said, preening himself. "I'm going to start the duelling club back up, I think. Severus, would you be my sparring partner? I promise I'll make your defeat smooth and quick."

Severus' lip twitched. "It would be an honour to see your remarkable skill with the wand, Mr Lockhart."

Hermione looked at Lockhart and then to her husband. "Oh, to be a bat on the ceiling," she said casually, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

"Mummy!"

"Yes, my darlings?"

"Did Daddy wipe the floor with the blond monkey with the shiny teeth?"

"Of course he did, my little loves."

"Yay!" The batlings cheered.

"Augustine drew a picture! Show Mummy!"

The curly-haired batling presented the waxy illustration of a black-clad bat wizard blowing up a blond wizard. The blond wizard's head was apparently creatively removed from the neck and floating off in space with a dialogue bubble saying "Oh no, Mr Bill!" There were multiple red wax melted drips on the page to depict a violent end.

Hermione tried hard to keep a straight face. "Oh, Augustine. It didn't quite end like that."

"But, Daddy did defeat him, right? The greatest duellist in all the world! That's what his book said! His book said the only way he'd ever be defeated was if he lost his head!"

Hermione clipped the wax drawing to the bulletin board over Severus' grading desk with a smug smile. "Sometimes people exaggerate."

"Aww," Augustine pouted, his ears and wings drooping.

"It's a fine, if highly violent, rendering, my love," Hermione said, snuggling her batling close. "And what have we learned about violence in our real life?"

"Always the last resort!" the batlings chimed together.

"Exactly," Hermione said with a smile. "And how were your lessons with Grandpa Manfred and Grandma Amelia?"

"Santiago beat Henry in the seek and find trial!" Augustine crowed. "By fifteen minutes! No one even came close!"

The black-furred batling attempted to bury himself in his mum's wings.

"I came in third," Augustine said, pouting. "I got distracted by a shiny fish."

Hermione chuckled. "It happens, love. Come, it is time for bed. Have you brushed your teeth?"

"Always," the batlings scoffed. "Duh!"

Hermione snorted as she spread her wings enough to launch into the air and cling to the perfect spot on the ceiling and dangle upside down. The batlings tucked themselves around her body and snuggled in tight as she wrapped her wings around them.

Within a minute, a dark shape entered the room and landed next to her, his dark wings spread to encircle his mate and pull her close.

Hermione squeaked in pleasure and snuggled up to Severus with a happy, contented sigh.

"The hero returns to his family," Hermione said into his warm fur.

Severus snorted. "I return, but I am hardly a hero."

"You're my hero," Hermione said with conviction.

"Ours, too, Daddy!" the batlings chimed in.

Severus scowled at his should-be-sleeping batlings. The batlings squeaked and tucked themselves in even more tightly against Hermione's side.

Hermione licked Severus on the cheek. "See? Hero."

"I yield to your expertise, my mate."

Hermione hummed and squeaked, corkscrewing her tail around her mate's. "I love you."

Severus closed his eyes as his wing held his family close. "And I you. Always."

Meanwhile, back in Dumbledore's office…

Grandfather offered an enormous bunch of grapes to a very happy phoenix, and the happy bird sang out his gratitude as the entire castle had the most glorious of dreams.

Except for one Albus Dumbledore, who was shivering uncontrollably in his purple, star-spangled sleep shirt, dreaming that he was one of the grapes about to be devoured by a certain hungry phoenix.

Grandfather dematerialised and reappeared in an instant inside the Snapes' private quarters, erected an exquisite pine tree constructed of ice and crystal, decorated it with glittering ornaments of magical light, and placed a vast array of brightly wrapped packages beneath it. Thinking for a moment, Grandfather snapped his fingers and a small black Kneazle kit sporting a festive green velvet collar popped out of nowhere and curled up to snooze amongst all the holiday gifts. Glancing about, he hung stockings stuffed to bursting with exotic fruits over the hearth, set out a tray of mini Christmas fruitcakes and iced holiday biscuits along with a large carafe of ice-cold milk and a fragrant pot of tea, and placed the batlings' wax rendered drawings of a chimaera-drawn sleigh led by a fire breathing dragon down by the pile of offerings. Next to that, he placed the letter handwritten by the batlings asking that everyone get what they most deserved for Christmas "but if it wouldn't be too much trouble, an everbearing mango tree for their parents who really missed the one in the DoM."

Grandfather pointed his finger at the pantry wall, causing a garden door to appear, which now led to a private courtyard filled with ever-bearing mango trees surrounding a small pond filled with colourful koi.

Well-pleased with his handiwork, the Dementor floated in place, radiating approval before floating out the door and standing guard over the entrance to the living quarters of his most favourite family in all the world, seeming to smile as the distant silvery sound of sleigh bells rang out over the grounds of a beautifully snow-clad Hogwarts castle.

Fin.

(Or is it?... mischievous batling squeaking)

A/N: I hope you liked your story, dunderheaded_ninny_muggins

Happy Christmas!