DISCLAIMER:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books,

Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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The tea was sweet and reassuringly familiar. It was also very welcome in the face of the peculiar people populating the Granger's peaches and cream living room.

Albus Dumbledore perched in his full wizard regalia on one of Mrs. Granger's Queen Ann chairs looking as unexpected as a Macaw in a garage. Snape was grouchily slouched in the other chair, smelling of jungle rot, his boots clogged with vegetation and his beige Great White Hunter outfit comically inappropriate. He carefully handled the end of his butterfly net examining the fantastic insect he had caught and pointedly ignoring the furtive glances being cast his way by the other occupants of the room.

The Grangers and Hermione were crammed all together on the sofa like a set of pottery owls. They were trying not to breath, sipping hot tea and uneasily glancing back and forth between each other. 

The silence continued. Dumbledore and the Grangers smiled occasionally, Snape fiddled with the net and Hermione stared at Snape's legs as if hypnotized.

Hermione had never seen Snape's legs before and they fascinated her. They were long, finely muscled and covered with neat black hairs that swirled up to and about his bare knees. She found her gaze wandering up to the fabric of the shorts eager to see if the hair grew higher. She stopped with a jolt when she found herself looking directly at his crotch. Her top lip was lined with sweat and she licked it as she studied the fabric pulled tightly over the bulge that lay there. Hastily she flicked her gaze away and blushing took a mouthful of scalding tea and swallowed the painful lump with her gaze firmly directed toward the ceiling.

"Severus." Albus whispered to his fellow wizard, "I am sorry I caught you at a bad time."

Snape looked at him out the corner of his eye. "Yes, you did. But only you would drop me right into the middle of another very bad time."

Dumbledore sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "Need I remind you that your indiscretion led directly to the situation at hand?"

"Strange how you have a very selective memory about your staffs' indiscretions Albus?" Snape shot back, his voice growing louder, the butterfly net falling from his hands. "I at least was insensible to my motivations at the time. I seem to recall an incident where Hagrid got rip roaring drunk and was found curled up on a pile of squid sperm packets – spent squid sperm packets –" he wiped his mouth of spit, "and what came of that?"

Mrs. Granger choked on her Darjeeling causing her cup to clatter nosily on her saucer, while Mr. Granger sat bolt upright and stared at them in wonder.

Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably on his seat, trying to ooze calm and reason. "Severus we promised not to discuss that matter." He tried to laugh it off. "Besides the Giant Squid saw an animal psychologist and it was all nicely resolved."

"Which is why the creature cowered next to my dungeon wall every time Hagrid ventured into the lake?"

"Severus, please this is not helping."

"Do you know how distracting it is to have a Giant Squid trying to get in through your porthole?"

"No, but I can imagine Hagrid does." Hermione murmured.

Mrs. Granger made a small eeping noise and Mr. Granger tightly gripped her hand. "What sort of school are you running Dumbledore?" He demanded. "Sea creatures and your staff doing heaven only knows what, my daughter transformed into a snake and-" He waved an accusatory finger at Snape, "him! He pops out of thin air and prances about as if he owns the place, upsetting everyone. Well, I won't have it!" He climbed out of his chair and shouted, "He's done nothing for my girl, nothing for those children. That's it, get out now!"

Silently Mrs. Granger got to her feet. "I must see to the children," Leaving the room, her hands shaking. "Must see if the little ones are alright."

Snape clutched his butterfly net to his body and stood up. "What do you mean 'done nothing'?"

"Of course, how stupid of me, you knocked her up and then you scarpered!" Mr. Granger was past dangerously angry and moving into terminal velocity. "How dare you stand there with a smug look on your face. Where I come from what you did was Statutory Rape. You were bloody lucky we did not go to the authorities!

"Actually Mr. Granger, Hermione was of age." Albus was attempting diplomacy in the face of a full frontal assault. "Even without benefit of the Time Turner she was over the age of consent."

Mr. Granger did not know what to say or to do, but it coalesced into one thing: he was going to punch Snape. He was going to mash that oversize honker into that pasty face of his and be done with it!

Snape never saw what hit him.

"Bherlin's balls!" Snape was bent over clutching his nose, his eyes watering as he stumbled backward, seeing stars. The butterfly net clattered to the floor and the butterfly escaped to dance in the air between them. "You bhastard!" He sprayed blood all over the front of his shirt and the peach damask sofa. "Bhou've bhroen mah bhloody bhose!" He hunched over and reached for his wand.

"Severus!" Albus put a restraining hand on him. "I believe the Grangers want us to go?"

"You good for nothing!" Mr. Granger ranted, his face an unhealthy purple colour. "Those children deserve better than you!"

"Bharbharhian." Snape seethed, blood and mucus dripping down his chin. "Bhuggle ijut!"

Mr. Granger was winding up for another roundhouse when Hermione stepped into the fray.

"Dad!" She wailed, "No, please. Stop."

Granger looked at his daughter and the anger drained away from his face. "I'm sorry sweetheart," he murmured, rubbing his knuckles, "but it's been a long time coming."

"Calm down Dad. I'm a big girl now I can fight my own battles."

Hermione went up to Snape and conjured up a handkerchief. "Here," she pressed it into his hands. "Stop spraying blood everywhere and use this."

For a moment Snape swayed on his feet as if collecting himself. He studied the handkerchief before he clutched it and wiped his bulging beak with it. "Bhank bou."

An uneasy silence fell. Out in the back garden the squeals and laughter of children could be heard. The butterfly had landed on the sofa and was tentatively drinking a drop of Snape's splattered blood.

The blooded wizard looked about the room distastefully. Blowing his nose noisily and painfully he stiffened as if irritated beyond measure and asked,  "With all the money I sent you, why do you choose to bring up our children up here? Why aren't you living in Hogsmeade or some other magical village?"

"Excuse me?" The young witch stared at him, "Money?"

"What money?" Granger interjected.

"The galleons I sent you." Snape searched Hermione's face with frank amazement. Dear Circe, he thought. The woman nearly accepts Filch's hand in marriage, has no idea about the money he's been sending her for years and was bringing up their children here – in the worst example of a Muggle house imaginable. All this did not bode well for a balanced psyche. Perhaps she was as clearly deranged as her father? Is this what carrying transformed children did to you? No wonder the only other records were mythical.

"Fifty galleons a month for the last four years?" He repeated testily, snorting on the blood running down the back of his throat. He tipped his head back and put the handkerchief to the bridge of his nose to stem the flow. "What sort of person do you think I am?" He gritted his uneven teeth and coughed. "Alive or dead I would ensure my children had support."

"That's Malfoy's money." Hermione whimpered.

"It most assuredly is not!" Snape dropped his head, only to clutch his nose in annoyance. "Argh!"

"Yes it is!"

"It's time for us to go Severus." The Head Master came up and tried to steer the injured man toward the door.

Snape shook off Dumbledore's hand, wiped the blood from his chin with an angry flick and demanded. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

Hermione and Mr. Granger focused their gazes on the Head Master just as he reached the door. Feeling the weight of the stares the old wizard stopped and his shoulders sagged under his opulent crimson robes.

"Ah." He cleared his throat and faced them, smiling apologetically at the group. "I believe I have some explaining to do."

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tbc