The Truffle Kerfuffle
A gift fic for CorvusDraconis
A/N: SSHG, AU. A graduation party is held at the Burrow for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Someone has big plans that don't quite go to plan.
With love, prayers, and positive energy for my dear friend and favourite writer, CorvusDraconis, as she recovers from surgery. I really hope she likes the story. Send her love and wishes for a swift recovery. Cadbury chocolate and a warm Cinnabon bouquet wouldn't hurt either.
Beta Love: Dutchgirl01
Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.
John Lennon
Molly hummed her favourite Celestina Warbeck tune A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love as she picked up a tiny vial, carefully adding five drops to the jug of cream and hitting it with a warming charm.
Just as she was about to add the mixture to the bowl of chopped chocolate, she heard Victoire's whimpering cries change to full-on shrieks, the tiny part-Veela clearly wanting her breakfast bottle right now, thank you very much.
Well, there was simply nothing for it, Molly decided.
Quickly getting a bottle out of stasis, she bustled over to the crib, picked up Victoire and headed for the rocking chair. Rocking away as she sang a lullaby to her grandbaby, Molly hoped that Bill's daughter would be only the first of many.
When Victoire drifted off with the teat still in her mouth, Molly smiled, tucked the sleeping babe in her crib, and headed back to the kitchen after spelling the bottle clean.
Finding the vial had fallen from the table and shattered, she huffed and spelled the floor clean before going to her potions cabinet and selecting another tiny vial.
Tonight, at the Burrow, they would host a graduation party for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The whole Order was invited, and everything had to be just perfect. She would make sure of that. Ronald would be proposing to Hermione that evening and she was going to make certain that his witch said yes. They were meant to be and if that meant she had to take certain steps to ensure their future, well, then it was her job as a mother to take action.
Molly had recently noticed that Hermione seemed to be taking an unhealthy interest in that slippery Slytherin, Severus Snape, who didn't have the grace to die like he was supposed to. And that simply wouldn't do. Ronald, unlike her other children, was sadly lacking in confidence and he needed someone to keep him firmly on the track to success.
Hermione, she had decided, was just the witch to do it.
To that end, she had brewed a small batch of love potion from the family grimoire. The Prewett version had a few extra ingredients, making her great-great-grandmother's formula a bit of an upgrade from your standard run-of-the-mill love potion. Three drops of blood from a Devonshire magical hare for fertility, a bit of minced galaga root to whet the libido, and a single hair from the one the target was meant for.
Molly chuckled to herself. Her seven children with Arthur were more than sufficient proof as to the effectiveness of the old family recipe.
After hitting the jug of cream with another warming charm, Molly added the requisite five drops of potion and a dash of homemade vanilla extract and gave it a stir, then poured the warm mixture on top of the chopped chocolate.
As soon as the chocolate melted completely, she gave it a good, thorough mix, then hit the bowl with a quick cooling charm. Forming the resulting ganache into several small balls, she rolled some of them in shaved chocolate, some into finely chopped hazelnuts, and some into imported cocoa powder.
Pleased with her handiwork, Molly conjured a pretty red gift box and a length of golden ribbon, packaging the doctored truffles with a smile of motherly satisfaction.
Perfect.
Upon arrival, everyone in the Order was eager to congratulate Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their educational success.
Minerva stood at the front, proudly calling each of her cubs forward to announce their individual achievements.
"Harry Potter!"
Cheers, whistles, and catcalls rang throughout the garden as Harry stepped forward.
Minerva glowed with pride as she said, "Mr. Potter, you have earned five NEWTs with an Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions and Herbology… and an Outstanding in Defence Against the Dark Arts, with the highest score ever recorded in the subject in Hogwarts history! Congratulations!"
Harry blushed. "Thanks, Headmistress McGonagall."
His former professor pshed. "You're no longer my student, you may call me Minerva, as well you know."
"Thanks, Head… er, M-Minerva," Harry said, stumbling a bit.
"Congratulations, Harry," Molly said as she stepped forward and gave him one of her famous bear hugs, crushing the nearly nineteen-year-old wizard to her bosom. "We all chipped in for a gift for you, and think it'll come in handy for a young man entering the Auror academy."
Harry was presented with a golden gift box with a slightly smaller one fastened to the top with a bright red ribbon. After pulling off the ribbon, Harry found the larger box contained a handsome dragonhide vest.
Charlie Weasley clapped the younger wizard on the shoulder in a friendly gesture. "It's made of Hungarian Horntail hide, Harry," he explained. "From an old friend of yours, to be specific."
Harry shuddered instinctively, vividly recalling the huge, terrifying dragon from the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year at Hogwarts. "Think I much prefer her like this, mate."
Everyone laughed and Harry grinned a little self-consciously.
The smaller box, it turned out, contained a plentiful supply of Molly's homemade treacle taffy and he wasted no time in popping a piece in his mouth, almost groaning in pleasure at the taste.
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, you're the best," Harry said in appreciation.
Molly blushed.
"Ronald Weasley!" Minerva called out.
Another round of cheering, whistling, and catcalling erupted with George hollering, "Oi there, ickle Ronniekins!"
The tips of Ron's ears were bright red, but he stepped forward and came to the front as Harry sat back down.
"Mr. Weasley, you have also earned five NEWTs, with an Average in Potions and Herbology, Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration and Charms, and an Outstanding in Defence Against the Dark Arts!"
Ron grinned proudly.
"Oh, well done," Molly gushed, giving her youngest son a fond smile and a crushing hug. "We have something for you too, and it should serve you well as the newest Keeper for the Chudley Cannons," she promised.
He was presented with a long, golden box, wrapped with a smaller one perched on top, tied together with a bright red ribbon. Quickly tearing into it, Ron found himself holding a beautiful new broom, a Firebolt, no less. His jaw dropped.
"Bloody hell, " Ron breathed in awe. "I don't know what to say! On second thought, I do… THANK YOU!" he yelled in obvious delight.
Setting down his new broom for a moment, Ron opened the smaller box to find it packed full of his mum's special butterbeer nut brittle. He stuffed a piece in his mouth as he headed back to his seat, accepting hugs and pats on the back from everyone.
"Finally, last but not least… Hermione Granger!" Minerva called out.
Hermione's cheeks were flushed a becoming pink as she stepped forward to a roar of cheers and wolf whistles.
"Miss Granger, you have earned a total of seven NEWTs, achieving Outstandings in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes." Minerva glowed with pride in her favourite lion cub. "You also hold the distinction of being only the second student to achieve seven straight Outstanding NEWTs in this century, the other student in question being one Severus Snape. Congratulations, my dear!"
Hermione blushed even brighter as a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles rang out once more.
Molly stepped forward again, hugging the young witch tightly. "Really well done, we're so very proud of you, dear! We have something special for you too, which should serve you well throughout life."
Hermione was handed a large red box with a much smaller box on top, secured together with a golden ribbon. She opened the large box and her eyes lit as she found a charmed library trunk inside.
"Congratulations, Hermione," Bill said, giving her a warm hug. "With this little beauty here, you can access any book from any magical library in the world. Just state the title of the book you want and when you open it up, it'll be there.'
"That's amazing," Hermione breathed. Looking around at all the smiling faces, she said, "Thank you so much, everyone!".
When she opened the smaller box, she found two dozen homemade chocolate truffles. Hermione beamed at the smiling Weasley matron. "They look positively decadent, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for thinking of me."
"Thank you, my dear, " Molly said with a smile.
As the guests began to mill around the garden, getting drinks, conjuring lawn chairs, and chatting amongst themselves, Molly took a moment to pull her youngest son aside.
"You're going to ask her tonight, Ronald," Molly stated firmly. It wasn't a question.
Ron groaned loudly. "Mum, honestly, I'm not ready to get married. Come on, leave off, yeah?"
"Don't you talk to me like that, Ronald Weasley!" his mother snapped. "Hermione's a fine witch and she's already drawing attention from other wizards. Just ask her, I'm sure she'll say yes. You need to get a ring on her finger tonight, young man, or mark my words… "
Agitatedly running his hands through his shaggy ginger hair, Ron finally said, "Fine, whatever, Mum. I'll ask 'Mione tonight, all right?"
Molly gave him a warning look before pouring a tall glass of lemonade and bringing it to a grateful Arthur, who was perspiring heavily as he slaved over a pair of sizzling grills.
As Ron watched his mother walk away, he sighed and muttered, "Bloody hell!"
When the pickup Quidditch game and gossip sessions began, Hermione decided to go for a walk in the orchard. Some trees were laden with a profusion of little green apples, promising a plentiful crop come autumn, while others were still loaded with hundreds of lovely pink and white blossoms, the sweet scent of apple gently perfuming the air.
When she reached the outermost edge of the Weasley property, Hermione found Professor Snape sitting alone on a conjured bench, reading a book.
She smiled at the sight. During her final year at Hogwarts, she had spent many a pleasant evening with this man, reading quietly, debating potions theory, or simply brewing together for the school infirmary in companionable silence.
Feeling eyes upon him, Severus looked up to find Hermione watching him with affection in her warm brown eyes. He gestured to the spot beside him. "Will you sit with me, Miss Granger?"
Hermione sat next to him, tilting his book slightly so she could read the title. She giggled and read, "Unfuck Yourself: How to Get Out of Your Head and Into Your Life?"
Snape snorted softly. "You have to admit, expressing myself in socially acceptable ways is not really my strong suit."
Tilting her head, Hermione observed, "Your usual methods seem to have worked well enough for the most part, sir. It's good that you're trying to build up your communication skills but I have to ask, why the change?"
He took a deep breath. "I have come to find that I wish to expand my horizons, so to speak. With regard to interpersonal relationships outside of those with my colleagues and students."
"I see," Hermione said slowly. "So, moving beyond the boundaries of friendship, perhaps?"
Snape nodded. "Yes. You see, I have met this young lady, and…"
Hermione twitched. "And you would like to explore the possibility of a deeper relationship with her?"
"I would," Severus agreed.
"Well," Hermione said a little shakily. "I… I hope you find what you're looking for with her. I hope it works out for you both, truly."
"I hope so too," he said cautiously. "Hermione?"
"Yes?" she said in a somewhat strangled-sounding voice.
"I would like…" Severus began. "Ah. Miss Granger, would you consider allowing me to court you?"
Hermione's eyes went wide. "Me?"
He rolled his eyes at her. "Who else?" He paused. "Was I wrong to think we could possibly…"
A fierce, breath-stealing kiss was the answer he received.
"Am I to assume that's a yes, Miss Granger?" Snape inquired with a lazy half-smile.
"You could say that," she agreed. "But don't you think it's time you called me Hermione? I'm not your student anymore, you know."
"And I'm quite grateful for that," Severus said with a relieved sigh. "These last few months prior to your graduation seemed to last an eternity. And please, from now on, it's Severus. Professor Snape or sir seems quite inappropriate under the circumstances."
Hermione laughed. "I quite agree. Shall we share a toast of sorts?"
Severus raised an ebony brow. "A toast? With what?"
Hermione reached into her beaded bag and pulled out the box of truffles, opening the box and offering it to him.
"Molly really outdid herself," Severus commented, selecting one covered in shaved dark chocolate.
Hermione chose one coated in finely chopped hazelnuts. "She did, indeed," she agreed. "Now, to our new relationship?"
"To our new relationship," Severus repeated.
They each bit into their truffle, enjoying the flavour of the rich chocolate confection.
A moment later, they both slumped to the ground, unconscious.
The graduation party was a smashing success. The guests greatly enjoyed the glorious sunny afternoon in the Burrow's back garden. Arthur had magically rigged a pair of Muggle grills, preparing a whole brisket on one and several plump chickens on the other.
The picnic table was groaning with fragrant barbecued meats along with huge bowls of potato, pasta, and fruit salads, tomato and basil tart, sausage rolls, pork pies, cheese and pickle pasties, devilled eggs, jam and coconut sponge, and at the very end of the table along with the iced lemonade and butterbeer was an enormous cauldron full of Pimm's punch, which George had found a recipe for.
George had fallen in love with Pimm's while out exploring Muggle London and decided to share the love of his latest obsession with his family and friends.
The wonderful meal was enjoyed by all, the guests joking, laughing and chatting amongst themselves. When Harry looked around, wondering where Hermione had gone, Ginny just laughed and told him that Hermione had mentioned wanting to stretch her legs, that she'd likely started reading a book and had simply lost track of time.
Harry sent his Patronus to Hermione to tell her she was missing out on dinner.
But then it was time for the next Quidditch game.
As the players all rushed for their brooms, Harry didn't realise that his friend had neither responded nor returned.
As the sun began to set, the party was winding down and it was time to cut the enormous multi-layer graduation cake that Molly had baked. When the graduates were called to claim the first three slices and there was still no Hermione, it suddenly occurred to everyone that the young woman hadn't been seen since she'd left for a walk earlier that afternoon.
"I'll check the house," a worried Ginny offered with her mother hot on her heels, the two women searching the Burrow from top to bottom while Ron and his brothers searched Arthur's shed and the greenhouse. Harry sent out another frantic Patronus, telling Prongs to stay near Hermione and wait for him.
The great silver stag pawed at the ground anxiously before galloping off, clearly picking up on his wizard's growing concern.
When there was still no response, a search party was formed, with the Quidditch players taking to the skies and everyone else breaking up into groups to search the grounds.
From his spot high above the trees, Harry finally spotted the silver-blue glow of his Patronus near the rear of the orchard, standing sentinel over two forms slumped below a tree.
"I think I see her!" Harry cried. "Way back there at the end of the orchard! Hurry!"
As Harry zoomed off to find his best female friend with Ron and the others in hot pursuit, he prayed to Merlin that Hermione was all right, but he couldn't help but fear the worst. It took less than a minute for him to reach her side but, to Harry, it seemed to take a lifetime.
Kingsley ordered everyone to stay back while he summoned a team of Aurors to cordon off the area.
The two on the ground were barely recognisable, save for the distinctive bushy curls and beaded bag of Hermione Granger. Next to her was a male body with lank black hair and a frock coat that could only be Severus Snape. Both appeared to be changing into something not quite human, their pale skin developing the beginning of what seemed to be a sleek coat of fur… and were those spots?
Kingsley, noticing something next to the pair, squatted down for a closer look. "Savage, over here."
Savage made his way over to the Minister and saw what had drawn his attention. Frowning, the Auror carefully levitated two half-eaten chocolate truffles into a conjured evidence bag.
Slowly turning around, Kingsley scanned all the faces until he spotted a white-faced, horrified-looking Molly Weasley standing at the edge of the silent crowd and stalked over to her.
"Molly, do you have something you want to tell me?" the Minister asked, his dark eyes narrowed.
Ron, who had started walking over the same time Kingsley had, took one look at his mother and hissed furiously, "Please tell me you didn't try to potion 'Mione, Mum!"
Molly wrung her hands nervously, "I was just trying to help, Ronald! Snape was sniffing around your witch, I had to do something!"
"Do you have any idea what you've done, Mum?!" Ron yelled. "Take a good look at what your "trying to help'' did to 'Mione and Snape!' Slumping against a tree, he groaned, "This is all my fault, Kings."
Harry, who had stepped up beside him, frowned at his friend. "What do you mean, Ron?"
Running his hands through his ginger hair, Ron sighed, looking at his mother, with Kingsley holding her arm in a firm grip. "'Mione and I aren't "meant" like Mum thinks."
"Don't be ridiculous, Ronald, of course you are," Molly stubbornly insisted. "She's the right witch for you, I know it!"
"MUM!" Ron shouted in exasperation. "I'm GAY! I'm not meant for ANY witch! 'Mione was just playing along till I worked up the nerve to tell YOU!"
Molly's jaw dropped. "W-what?"
"You heard me perfectly well, Mum," Ron snapped. "I've been seeing Ritchie Coote for months now. We got together in February, on my birthday."
Kingsley silently gestured to Auror Proudfoot, who stepped forward and placed magic-suppression cuffs on a sobbing Molly as Savage intoned, "You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."
"Pemberley, Edmonds!" Kingsley called out.
"Sir!"
"Please take Miss Granger and Master Snape to the infirmary in the Department of Mysteries. St. Mungo's is still bulging at the seams and, anyway, these two are going to need the kind of specialised care that the DoM can provide."
Conjuring a pair of stretchers and loading up the victims of Molly Weasley's meddling, each Auror grabbed a stretcher and disappeared with a loud CRACK.
Savage walked up to the Minister, who was still waiting to hear from the DoM's human transformational mishaps specialist team.
"Sir, the Weasleys all agreed to be questioned under Veritaserum, and none of them had any clue as to what Molly was up to," Savage reported. He sighed, running a hand through his thick dark hair.
"As for Mrs. Weasley, turns out she spiked those truffles with a love potion from the Prewett family grimoire. Seems there was a fertility and lust component too. Pretty nasty stuff, you ask me. But that doesn't quite explain why Granger and Snape are so messed up right now."
"I can help you with that, gentlemen," said a greying dark-haired healer as he entered the waiting area. He offered his hand to the Minister and Savage. "Healer Brendan Davies, at your service. You should know that the physiological changes to Miss Granger and Master Snape are still ongoing. We analysed the truffles you brought us, and it appears there was another substance present in addition to the love potion. Now that one contained, among other ingredients, beast DNA in the form of Nundu fang and dragon blood. Norwegian Ridgeback, to be precise. We're not really sure what that one was meant to do, to be honest."
Kingsley frowned. "Those spots we saw on them… "
"Are actually rosettes, yes. And in addition to the Nundu characteristics, they're both growing a fine set of dragon wings. Given their rapidly increasing size, we had to move them from the infirmary to one of the isolation habitat rings," Davies added.
"Is there anything that can be done for them?" Savage asked, wincing slightly.
"I'm afraid not," Davies said with a sigh. "The two potions interacted in ways we're only just beginning to understand. And there was a touch of firewhisky in those truffles too, probably from homemade vanilla extract. The alcohol substantially increased the potency of the two potions in their systems. The love potion, unsurprisingly, was meant to tie Miss Granger to the youngest Weasley lad, but the Nundu fang effectively cancelled that part out as Nundus are notoriously monogamous creatures. My guess is, if Miss Granger and Master Snape weren't already drawn to each other, they will be now. And if they are, well, you'd best not get between them is all I'm saying."
Looking concerned, Kingsley asked, "What about their minds?"
"Well, it happens we're lucky in that area. We had one of our Legilimens examine them and their human minds are fully intact. The changes, so far, appear to be purely physical in nature."
Kingsley let out a slow breath. "Thank the gods for that at least."
Three days later, Hermione began to stir.
"Slowly, Hermione" came a familiar voice from beside her. "Keep your eyes closed for a moment, would you, dear?"
"Minerva?" Hermione yawned. "What happened?"
Her former professor sighed. Before I get to that," Minerva said slowly, "tell me, what's the last thing you remember?"
Hermione frowned, noting absently that her face felt… odd. "Severus and I were talking in the orchard at the Burrow. To make a long story short, he asked to court me, and I agreed. We toasted each other with the truffles Molly made… " She paused. In a small voice, she said, "Molly?"
Minerva sighed. "I'm afraid so. It seems she decided to "help" Mr. Weasley by tainting your truffles with a love potion from the Prewett family grimoire. One that had ingredients designed to induce lust and fertility as well."
"There's something else, isn't there, Minerva?" Hermione asked faintly, still struggling to process Mrs. Weasley's betrayal. "I feel very strange. And my face and legs don't feel right."
"I'm afraid so, my dear. It seems that while Molly was making the truffles, she was distracted by Victoire crying. When she came back, she found the vial of love potion had fallen and broken on the floor. She forgot that she'd already added it, so she got a second bottle."
Minerva sighed again. "But the second vial didn't contain love potion. Instead, it was a vial of potion that she'd confiscated from the twins a few summers back. Why Molly didn't simply vanish it, Merlin only knows. When George was questioned about it, he explained that he and Fred had once planned to make another confection along the lines of their Canary Creams. They were to be called Flying Feline Fancies. The ingredients they chose contained Nundu fang and dragon blood and were pilfered from the Hogwarts potions stores. Needless to say, the two potions interacted quite badly. In addition, the potency was increased by a trace of firewhisky in the truffles. George claims that their potion was designed to temporarily transform the consumer into something with only the look of a miniature winged Nundu. But when the two potions were combined with just enough alcohol to amplify the effects… well."
"Flying Feline Fancies?" Hermione repeated, sounding somewhat dazed.
"Yes, my dear," Minerva confirmed. "The changes are solely physical in nature and the healers aren't quite sure yet if the changes will be permanent. Curiously, your vocal cords were altered only slightly, which is why you can still speak more or less normally. Severus is currently undergoing tests but will be here with you shortly. It was felt that it would be better if someone familiar was here to explain the situation before you saw him and yourself. Now I'm going to show you what I'm talking about, and I want you to please remain calm."
Hermione nodded a little shakily.
"All right, dear, you can open your eyes now."
She blinked a few times, then opened her eyes to see Minerva sitting on a bench beside a garden pond. The elder witch gestured to the pond, which now had a mirror-like surface. Hermione stared down at the pond, which reflected her face: that of a full-grown female Nundu. Her fur was sleek and glossy, the colour of wildflower honey with brownish black rosettes. Her eyes were a deep amber with flecks of green and gold. And unfolding from her back was a pair of dark bronze dragon wings.
Hermione sat down hard on her rump.
"I know it's quite a lot to take in, but I may be able to help," Minerva said gently. "There is a little-known facet of Animagery of which you might not be aware. While most are familiar with at least the basics of Animagus magic, not many know that those who find themselves trapped in a beast form can learn how to shift into a fully human form, just as long as their minds remain intact. It is extremely difficult magic that relatively few witches and wizards are capable of, but I believe that both you and Severus will be able to master the skill in time."
"Minerva?" came Severus' voice from just beyond the trees. "Hermione?"
"Minerva explained things, Severus. I've seen myself and I'm ready to see you," Hermione responded, her vastly improved vision picking out an enormous shadowy feline form amongst all the dense trees, climbing vines, and brush.
Slowly, the form approached and soon an enormous black Nundu with faint charcoal rosettes and black dragon wings came into view.
Minerva watched in silent awe as the two great felines met and gazed at one another for a long moment. They gently bumped noses before curling up together beside the pond. Hermione nuzzled Severus and he began to tenderly groom her ears.
Minerva smiled.
It wasn't all right, not by a long shot. But it would be in time. She was certain of it.
Molly Prewett Weasley Sentenced to Azkaban!
During a closed-door session of the Wizengamot, the Weasley matriarch and wife of Ministry worker Arthur Weasley was convicted of a number of serious charges, including but not limited to: creation and use of a dark potion, administering a dark potion to an unknowing victim(s), abuse of potions for personal gain, tainting a product meant for human consumption, and two counts of forcible life-altering physical transformation.
It seems that Madam Weasley wished for her youngest son, war hero Ronald Bilius, to marry his childhood friend, Hermione Jean Granger, beloved Muggleborn war heroine, and wanted to ensure that the young lady could not possibly refuse. To that end, she gifted Ms. Granger with a box of homemade sweets spiked with a dark love potion from the Prewett family grimoire.
However, Mrs. Weasley mistakenly added another potion along with it, an experimental potion created by her then-teenaged twin sons. The two potions combined caused a permanent, life-altering physical transformation to Ms. Granger along with Dumbledore's spy, Master Severus Snape, who also partook of the tainted confectionery.
This reporter was not told of the precise nature of Granger's and Snape's physical transformations, but confidential sources inform us that they are quite beastly indeed.
Because both Ms. Granger and Master Snape are first class Order of Merlin recipients, Mrs. Weasley's sentence was even harsher. Weasley will be spending the next thirty years in Azkaban without the possibility of parole.
Platform 9 3/4
1 September 2014
The station was bustling with parents off to the side chatting amongst themselves as their excited children ran about to and fro, greeting their friends and hauling their belongings onto the train for the long trip to Scotland.
Severus and Hermione stood near the end (looking quite human and less likely to terrify the general public), surrounded by their many children. It turned out the only part of the Prewett love potion that had proven to be persistent and effective was the fertility component.
As luck would have it, Severus had inherited the vast Prince holdings as the sole surviving member of the line. It was a good thing Severus had arranged for the goblins to send him a letter "informing" him that the entire Prince estate had been bequeathed to a purely fictional distant cousin, Salazar Prince, at the time. Severus had known full well that if Dumbledore had learned that he was the heir, the manipulative old coot would've used the Vow to force him to hand it over, reasoning that the Prince galleons would be better used to fund the Order as Severus' life expectancy at the time was virtually nil.
At any rate, between the multiple Prince vaults, Severus' wide array of old patents, and their incredibly successful Flying Nundu Apothecary (with lucrative accounts for St. Mungos, the Ministry, and Hogwarts), the Princes were doing very well indeed.
The expansive country estate that was Prince Hall had been quite a boon as well. With their progeny all entering the world as winged Nundu cubs, well, having so much heavily wooded land and no neighbours for several kilometres allowed them the freedom to be themselves, whether that happened to be on four legs or two. By the time they were toddlers, each of the Prince children had become a Homomagus and could shift between forms at will. So as not to unduly alarm anyone while out in public, the youngest Princes wore a charmed pendant that their mother had created so they would remain in human form until they were safely back home.
Their eldest daughter, Aubryn Minerva, would be joining this year's crop of Hogwarts first years. She was nervously twisting one of her long, black curls around her finger, her other hand clutching a carrier holding her tortoiseshell Kneazle kit, Mestra.
Hermione was holding the hand of Aiden Kingsley, who had just turned six, looking on fondly as precocious Ethan Severus, eight, read one of his father's potions journals. Severus was holding their youngest child, five-month-old Violet Grace, who had her face tucked into her father's neck, sound asleep. Their (happy and much appreciated) house-elves, Gilly and Gerry, were sitting on a nearby bench playing with two-year-old Bertram Cyrus and four-year-old Sophia Poppy.
The eldest Prince child, thirteen-year-old Julian Salazar, would be entering his third year at Hogwarts. His barn owl, Barnabas, clung tightly to the padded shoulder of his robes as he ran up to his best friend and fellow Slytherin, Scorpius Arthur, who had just arrived with his parents, Draco and Ginny Malfoy.
Joining the group were Harry and a very pregnant Susan Potter, with their identical twin girls, Lily Euphemia and Rose Amelia, Hufflepuff second years both.
Luna Longbottom was pushing a stroller containing her 10-month-old daughter, Pandora Alice, as Neville affectionately ruffled the hair of their son, Franklin Augustus, another incoming firstie.
Last to arrive were Ron and Ritchie Weasley-Coote, with their adopted son, Robbie Ferguson. The Gryffindor fourth year had been orphaned as an infant when his parents were killed during a rogue Death Eater attack in Bristol. The parties responsible, Leland Jugson and Gordon Gibbon, had subsequently been killed themselves by the Aurors who arrived on scene shortly after.
There hadn't been an attack since, and for that magical Britain could only be grateful.
The whistle blew once more, signalling that the train would be leaving in precisely ten minutes and woe betide anyone who wasn't aboard by then. The children rushed to say their final goodbyes and ran off to find a compartment with their friends.
Soon, parents began to leave after waving and watching the train until it pulled out of sight.
Severus turned to his family, quirking a brow. "So, home or Fortescue's?"
The Prince children all cheered, "Fortescue's!"
"I guess ice cream it is," Hermione laughed. "And maybe Flourish and Blotts after?"
"Yay, books!"
"Do you think we have enough room for more books?" Severus teased.
Hermione's brown eyes sparkled with mischief. "Hmm, I don't know, we just might have to add a third library, love."
"Well, I guess that will be our next family project, wife," Severus said with a mock-exasperated sigh.
"Ice cream, Mummy!" squealed Sophia and Bertram.
"Onward to the ice cream, my loves." Hermione laughed. "Let's go!"
And they lived happily-ever-after.
Finis