Once inside Hogwarts' grand Entry Hall, Hermione sniffed back her tears and
straightened her spine. Bag in hand, she marched to Gryffindor tower,
giving short nods to those who greeted her but not stopping until she'd
climbed through the portrait hole. Various members of her house milled
about, talking and exchanging stories with their housemates, but neither
Harry or Ron were in evidence. Ginny Weasley, buried in the corner with
several of her sixth-year classmates, gave Hermione a look brimming with
questions but restrained herself.
Gathering her nerve, Hermione spared a quick wave to Ginny and headed straight for the sofa where Lavender and Parvati were chattering away over their respective holidays.
"I need to talk to you two," Hermione told them. "Not here, though, alright? In your room?"
"Happy to see you, too," Lavender responded sarcastically, although she had no chance of reaching anywhere near the acid Severus could attain. "Had a good holiday?"
"Lovely. Are you coming or not?"
Mystified, the two girls agreed and led the way to the seventh-year girls' room.
Hermione and Severus had agreed on a highly edited version of the facts, and with Dumbledore's endorsement she had come up with an appropriately Slytherin approach to presenting those facts. Following her classmates into their dorm, Hermione rehearsed the preferred version in her mind and steeled herself for the next few minutes.
Lavender ushered them all in the room before shutting the door. "Well, Granger, what's so important? New stack of books from the Library?"
"I think she met someone!" Parvati announced as she toyed with the end of her braid, the gold bangles on her wrist chiming musically. "She's got a love-bite on her neck!"
"Well, sort of," Hermione hedged. "There's something I wanted to show you. Two somethings, actually." Taking a deep breath, she left off unbuttoning her cloak and held out her left hand.
Both girls peered at the ring, identical looks of astonishment pasted on their faces as they realized the quality of the jewels.
"Is that an engagement ring?" asked Lavender, familiar with Muggle customs after spending so much time with her half-and-half boyfriend.
"No," Hermione told her evenly, ignoring the tone of disbelief in Lavender's voice. "It's a wedding ring. I've gotten married."
Lavender inhaled sharply, but both girls screeched as expected. In seconds, they were bouncing like animated ferrets, peppering her with questions.
"You're married? MARRIED?? To who - who is it?"
"Why on earth would you get married?" Lavender demanded. "Unless.OH my GOD!"
With a smile, Hermione nodded and opened her cloak, resting a hand on her swollen middle. In seconds the girls dragged her over to sit on the nearest bed, besieging her from both sides with questions and exclamations. Amidst the bubbly excitement, Parvati's questions were comprehended first.
"Who is he? Is it Ron Weasley?"
"Not with that ring," Lavender said sharply.
The girl's attitude was beginning to irritate her, but Hermione laughed, mindful of the impression she was trying to make.
"Wait, wait! First of all, I got pregnant last year. I'm due this summer. But we just got married the first day of the hols."
"I thought there was a charm on Hogwarts to prevent hormonal teenagers from getting pregnant," remarked Parvati disingenuously.
"That's only a legend, Par. It's not true," Lavender cut in. "Well, is it someone we know?"
"Yes and no," she answered. "It's Severus Snape."
"Who?" Lavender asked blankly.
"Severus - not, not," Parvati was quicker. "Professor Snape? Professor SNAPE?"
"NO!!" gasped Lavender. Hermione nodded.
The other two girls exchanged glances.
"Details! Ohmigosh. Details!"
"You have got to be kidding. A teacher?"
"Not just any teacher - the Potions teacher," added Lavender in an awed voice. "When did this happen? Did he seduce you? Did he get sacked because of you?"
"No, no," insisted Hermione, intent on heading off that particular line of thought. Careful not to mention any dates, she told the girls how she had been accosted by Death Eaters in Hogsmeade. An excellent audience, they gasped appropriately when she described the purpose of her abduction, though she made no mention of the identities of the men involved.
Revealing the fact that Snape had been present but leaving out certain details, Hermione led the girls to believe that Snape had been abducted as well. She told them how he had given her his wand while he attacked the lead Death Eater, and how he'd been savagely beaten by the others.
"I helped Madame Pomfrey nurse him back to health, and, well, one thing sort of led to another." She ducked her head, to hide her non-existent blush, and the two immediately jumped on the conclusion they'd been led to. Any hint of rape was transmuted to a quickly blooming romance of an injured man for his caretaker.
"Oh, that's so sweet!" gushed Parvati, and while Lavender still seemed skeptical of the emotional dynamic, she did not question the way it had come about.
"We're talking about Snape, right? Mean, nasty, greasy..."
"He's much different when he's not trying to teach," Hermione interrupted. "Much different," she repeated, and this time she did not have to pretend a blush as she recalled exactly how different he could be outside the classroom. All on its own, her hand went to the sucker bite he'd left on her neck.
Parvati squealed once more while Lavender giggled.
"And you got pregnant? I thought Snape would have cast a charm, or least given you a potion or something to prevent that."
"Well... we sort of got carried away..." Hermione drawled, setting off more giggles. "And he's spent the last few months talking me into getting married," she finished firmly. "So, we did."
Now, with any luck at all, the two leading gossip hens of Hogwarts would have the preferred version of her tale spread from the dungeons to the Astronomy tower by dinner, or curfew at the latest. Inwardly Hermione cringed, but continued to smile and laugh as she answered endless silly questions about Severus Snape's previously unsuspected romantic nature, fervently hoping he never heard some of the details she was currently inventing.
Once she escaped the clutches of Lavender and Parvarti, Hermione left the Gryffindor common room with another wave in Ginny's direction and gratefully made her way through the mostly silent hallways to the Head Girl's room. The black school bag was as light as ever, but her luggage was dragging heavily, causing her shoulder and back ache. She wanted nothing more than to find her room, greet her cat, and collapse on the big four-poster bed.
Nothing could be that easy, though, and she stopped dead on the last few treads of the staircase when Draco Malfoy suddenly appeared at the landing.
"Granger," he sneered. In a flash she realized his tenor voice was attempting the same silky domination Severus attained so easily, and her back stiffened in defiance. Why, he's nothing but a wanna-be, she thought. Neither as intimidating as his former head of house or his father, Draco's posing was a pale imitation of the men he wanted to model himself after.
Even as she thought this, he gave her the same insulting visual inspection that had been his habit, but the disdain flickered into confusion as he took in her pregnancy, revealed by the open front of her cloak. Shock, revulsion and fury chased each other across his face until the scorn returned.
"Another Mud Blood bastard, Granger?" he spat out. "Do you really think even Weasley will want you now?"
"If anyone here is a bastard, Malfoy, it's you. And certainly not my baby." Boldly she held out her left hand, showing the ring Severus had given her.
"What idiot would be stupid enough to give you that?"
"Well," she began lightly, "I call him Severus, but I believe you know him as Professor Snape."
Draco paled, but she could see the wheels turning. "So you were his whore."
"He gave me a message to give you, Draco," Hermione told him, ignoring his insult. "He particularly wanted to be sure you passed it along to your father."
"What could that traitor possibly have to say to my father?"
"He said to remind you that Slytherins protect their own."
"A blood feud?" Draco exclaimed skeptically. "Over a Mud-Blood? Don't make me laugh."
"I'm just passing on the message, Draco. It's a Slytherin tradition."
During one of their long talks, Severus had told her that Slytherins considered other members of their own house as fair a game as any other, but attacking the family of your enemy was grounds for a blood feud that could last for generations. Hermione had been less than polite in refuting that, given the Death Eaters' penchant for attacking at their target's weakest point.
That had let her in for a long lecture about the former glory that was Slytherin house, where cunning and ambition were considered valuable traits as long as personal honor was not compromised. A true Slytherin has honor above all else, Severus had insisted, or he's just another thug. Considering what Severus' personal honor had cost him, she was willing to concede the point.
Draco swallowed visibly, his contempt losing conviction. "I'll tell him. And you can tell him that my father will find him and make him pay for his betrayal."
"You'll have to tell him that yourself. You see, I have no idea where he's gone."
"You're lying."
"You can believe it, or not, I don't really care. He said he had some arrangements to make, and he'd surprise me when school was out." She descended the last few stairs towards the incredulous Slytherin, hoping to make it to her room before Draco's shock wore off. "I think he's gone to buy me a house," she added fatuously.
Hermione's ploy worked; Draco remained rooted to the spot while she swept past him, and for once had no parting comment as she left his presence. With carefully hidden relief she reached the sanctuary of her room and shut the door behind her.
Crookshanks immediately swarmed up to her, meowing in joy that his witch had returned, purring madly as he twined himself around her ankles. Hermione dropped to her knees and cuddled ecstatic ball of fluff to her, a single sob mingling with the relieved laughter that someone, at least, was happy to see her.
*****
In what Dumbledore would have termed one of the less savory pubs of Hogsmeade, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin huddled over a few pints of bitters. Unfortunately, the ale wasn't worth the nursing, and Remus pulled a face as he took a sip while watching the room. The crowd at the bar was moderate, but they'd taken care to find a table where the door could easily be observed without being too obvious. Black had long since stopped looking up every time it opened, though his grumbling had not ceased.
"He's late."
"He said he'd be here around seven, and it's just a bit after. Relax, Padfoot." The oak door opened again. "And there he is," Remus announced quietly.
Neither man made any gesture of greeting, and Severus Snape walked past their table without notice, only to casually backtrack and take the third chair.
"You're late," Black repeated.
"And you're as charming as ever," Severus told him. "I had business to attend to."
"Business that's kept you a week past our original timetable?" Sirius asked. "What the hell was so important you kept us waiting this long?"
"You didn't tell him?" Severus asked Lupin.
"No," Remus answered, grinning into his mug. "I thought you'd want to see his face when he heard."
"Heard what?"
"I'm beginning to like you, Lupin," Severus told the werewolf with a grim smile.
"Shut your gob and tell me," Sirius ordered.
This oxymoron received the disdain it deserved. "If you must know, Black, I was with a woman."
Black snorted. "What kind of tart would voluntarily spend that much time with you?"
Severus' hand shot out and grabbed the neck of Sirius' coat, causing ale to slosh out of his mug as he was dragged closer. "Say that again, Black, and you'll be saying it through a broken jaw. For your information, I got married."
"Bollocks," Sirius spat out in patent disbelief. "Who would marry you?"
"Hermione Granger," Remus volunteered, rather enjoying the spectacle Snape was making. If he'd had his doubts of the man's attachment to his new bride, those were being dispelled quickly. The two men had aggravated each other for years, but Snape would never have reacted to such a comment if it hadn't bothered him.
"Hermione? Ron's Hermione?" Sirius demanded, grabbing Snape's coat lapel in turn.
"She never was and never will be 'Ron Weasley's Hermione.' She's my wife."
"And soon to be a mother," Remus added helpfully. Might as well get it over with, he thought. At least they won't draw wands on each other in a crowd.
"WHAT?" Sirius roared. It was a tossup as to who dragged whom to their feet, and they hit the wall at the same time. Around the room, various elements dropped their conversations and watched the unfolding entertainment with interest.
"You bastard!!" Sirius raged. "She's a child!"
"She's eighteen," Severus told him. "And she's my WIFE!"
"She's half your age!"
"Outside, gents!" bellowed the barkeep coming out from behind the counter, his voice rising over the enthusiastic shouts of the onlookers. The exchange of insults paused, but neither man released his hold on the other.
"It's a long story," Remus told Black as he placed some Sickles on the table and grabbed Sirius' overcoat. "We can discuss this on the way." His prodigious werewolf strength was more than equal to the task of separating the two combatants, and he pulled them apart with ease.
"Just two blokes fighting over a bird," he called out to the room at large, getting an understanding laugh from many of the drinkers. "Sorry for the mess."
The barkeep waved him off, collecting the overturned mugs and picking up the coins. "Happens every damned day. I need to wear referee robes some nights."
"WALK," Remus barked as the three men found themselves on the quiet street, accompanying his order with a shove in the proper direction. "As I said, Padfoot, it's a long story. Do you want to tell it, Severus, or shall I?"
"By all means, Lupin, do indulge your sense of the dramatic," Severus drawled as he straightened his clothing. "I know you're dying to."
"Shut it, you," growled Sirius. "Moony? This better be good."
"Oh, it is," Remus replied glibly. "See, it all starts with Hermione Granger being snatched by Lucius Malfoy's little Death Eating ass-kissers, and then our friend here letting Malfoy get a wand up on him."
"Malfoy should be buggered by a hippogriff," Sirius bit out.
"For once, Black, I agree with you," Severus told him.
Remus Lupin's voice faded into the distance as they strode along the avenue lit only by the occasional torch and the quarter moon above, headed for parts unknown.
*****
Flanked by Harry on one side and Ron on the other, Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, hoping her stomach would behave itself despite the knots it was currently twisting into. The whispering began almost instantly, and followed her as she walked down between the tables to her usual place beside Seamus Finnegan. It reached a crescendo as she caught up her school robes against herself as she sat down, outlining her pregnancy for all to see.
Ron took the seat on her other side, while Harry quickly went around the end of the table to his spot opposite her. The buzz in the hall rose and fell as the story reached the ends of the hall and even up to the rafters, where the Gray Lady hovered with the Bloody Baron, whispering into his ear. The grim, silver splotched ghost floated near the ceiling and crossed his arms, then gave her an approving nod when she glared at him. "Another Slytherin, no doubt," he mouthed silently.
Hermione suddenly grinned at the absurdity of it all and shook her head. If she'd married anyone else, or gotten pregnant just after school, most of her classmates would have shrugged with disinterest and gone on with their lives without sparing her another thought. Once they left school and the relatively uncomplicated life within those bounds, they would probably realize just how silly their behavior was. She asked Seamus to pass the juice, which he did, along with a plate of toast. Normality began to creep back in as she piled her breakfast onto her plate and completely ignored the ninny flock around her.
Just the other side of Seamus, Lavender came and sat down. She did not answer the various greetings she received, and after a moment leaned over and whispered into her boyfriend's ear.
Seamus stopped chewing, then swallowed carefully. "What?" he demanded.
"I said, I'm pregnant, too," Lavender repeated crossly and quite loudly. Hermione could see the young woman's chin quiver. The table grew deathly quiet.
"Lavender..." stammered Seamus.
"Never mind," the girl muttered, rising quickly out of her seat. Before she'd gone but a few steps, Seamus caught her by the arm. He forced her to look at him by cupping her face with his free hand.
"Really?" he asked, in a tone of wonder.
Lavender nodded miserably. A tear trickled down her cheek and Seamus wiped it away with his thumb before kissing her. The kiss quickly passed from a tasteful peck to full-blown Public Display, amid rising cheers and applause from the nearby tables.
Seamus suddenly broke the kiss and whispered something, to which Lavender nodded shyly. He let out a whoop and lifted her off the floor, twirling her around.
"When's the wedding, Seamus?" called Ron, proving he wasn't completely oblivious.
"As soon as we graduate. Right?" he asked Lavender, who only nodded again and kissed him. Amid some laughter and a few rather off-color comments, the newly engaged couple sat back down to their breakfast.
Across the table from Hermione, Ginny leaned over and whispered into Harry's ear. Harry gulped visibly and grinned.
Ron, however, scowled and put his spoon down with a thunk. "Hermione," he began pointedly, "I was just telling Ginny here that you really can get pregnant the first time you shag someone."
Hermione gave Ron a look. His ears had gone red, as had Harry's, but whereas Ron's face was belligerent, Harry was carefully watching his plate and not his friend or, more importantly, the red-haired girl sitting beside him. Ginny, however, lifted her chin and stared back at her older brother with a dangerous light in her eye.
"Yes, it's true," Ginny answered before Hermione could respond. "Although, if one plans ahead, a visit to Madame Pomfrey can take care of it."
"That's very interesting, Miss Weasley," came McGonagall's crisp voice. Hermione and Ron turned to look at the Transfiguration teacher standing beside them, her mouth pursed in displeasure and a spot of color high on each cheek.
Professor McGonagall pinned each Gryffindor in the immediate vicinity with a sharp glance over her square glasses. "You, Miss Brown, and you, Mrs. Snape, and I think Miss Weasley as well, will take yourselves this very afternoon to Madame Pomfrey's office. The four of you will put together whatever information Pomfrey deems adequate to cover the subject of reproduction and birth control. It will be on my desk by Friday evening, no later. Once I've approved it, the Head Girl will see to it that a copy is given to every sixth and seventh form girl on the premises. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
"Yes, Professor," chorused the young women meekly.
"I've been insisting for years that something of the sort was needed in this school, but the Headmaster has always taken the Board of Governors view that sex education doesn't belong at Hogwarts." She sniffed in disdain. "As though none of them remember what they got up to when they were teenagers. I was at school the same year as Cornelius Fudge, and I could tell you stories.. Of course he doesn't remember it that way."
The older witch sniffed again, and Hermione had to hide her grin at the shock from her classmates. Ron looked as though he might die on the spot, while Harry was gaping, his mouth hanging open, giving a somewhat unattractive view of his last bite. The very thought of Minister Fudge acting like a randy teenager was highly disturbing.
"Remember, ladies. No later than eight o'clock on Friday, or I'll be deducting so many points from Gryffindor you'll wish Professor Snape were here instead." Despite her stern voice, the tiniest wink in Hermione's direction set off another grin. "Now. Where is the Head Boy? I think I need to have a word with him, as well."
The embarrassed sniggers at the Gryffindor table subsided as the morning squadron of owls swooped through the windows and began to drop mail to students throughout the hall. Though she knew it was silly, Hermione could not help a small flicker of disappointment that she did not receive a letter. Instead, she applied herself to her meal and listened absently to the others discussing their correspondence.
The startled cry of an unknown student alerted everyone to the latest avian delivery. Every eye in the Hall flew up to watch as a huge black and white eagle soared into the hall. Owls everywhere scattered for cover while the eagle circled the room, its long, broad wings taking the corners nimbly. Neatly backwinging, it dropped to the Gryffindor table, its heavy talons hitting the tabletop with a loud clatter.
The sudden silence was broken when Hagrid exclaimed happily, "That's a Bateleur Eagle, that is."
The eagle hopped lightly forward, crossing a distance longer than Hermione's arm to land just in front of her nearly empty plate. It regarded her steadily, the black feathers standing up around a reddish face as it cocked its head from one side to the other. Satisfied, it plucked at a cord around its neck with a huge, curved beak, pulling off a loop. A small box dangled from the loop.
"Thank you," Hermione managed, taking the box.
The eagle bobbed its head once and took off, wings beating loudly as it soared out the window, sending nervous owls in every direction.
Wicked," commented Ron.
What did you get?" asked Lavender.
The brown paper wrapping was inscribed 'Hermione Granger Snape,' and was tied with a heavy string. Hermione tore the string and brown paper off the box and opened it. Inside was a wad of cotton wool and a note.
Scanning the note quickly, it read;
My dearest Hermione,
My son has written me of your marriage, and I hope you will forgive an old woman for being eager to meet you. I have waited for this day for more than a decade, however, so I suppose that a few more weeks will make no difference.
Please accept this token of welcome to the family. It is the Snape family crest and has been a gift to each new bride for four centuries. Don't fret - the chain is spelled against breaking and the medallion itself has a powerful anti-theft charm on it. Please wear it as a gift from both Severus and myself. You have already given me the most priceless gift of all - the happiness of my son and the future grandchild you bear.
Until we meet, I remain,
Lucretia Snape
Within a nest of cotton wool, a bright gleam of metal and jewels shone. Hermione's breath caught as she carefully removed it.
The pendant was rather large, consisting mostly of a circle of many leaves formed of gold with an overlay of brilliant green enamel. In the center of the leaves, small garnets or possibly rubies formed the shape of an apple. A closer examination showed an edge of the apple had a bite taken from it, the apple's flesh depicted in tiny yellow diamonds. Other details made themselves known, such as the tiny brown enameled stem, and a small snake slithering among the tiny green leaves, its emerald eyes showing no remorse.
Turning it over, Hermione found a Latin motto inscribed on the back. "Cognitio indifferns virtus mallus," she read.
As she read the words, a tingle of magic went though her fingers, and she nearly dropped it. Common sense told her to immediately put the jewelry back in the box and ship it back to Italy, but the desire to have something so connected to Severus easily overrode that impulse. Instead, Hermione put the gold chain around her neck, the medallion inside her robes, and resolved to go see Professor Flitwick at her earliest opportunity.
The next afternoon, Hermione managed to get to Charms early enough to have the enchantment professor examine the necklace. Declining to touch it, Flitwick adjusted his spectacles and peered closely at the piece in Hermione's cupped hands. A few waves of his wand and quite a bit of muttering later, the diminutive wizard backed away, shaking his head. "I'm not familiar with this particular charm, but it's definitely the work of a master," he pronounced in his squeaky voice. "So is the jewel work, for that matter. It's not by Cellini or Boticelli, but a Renaissance master most certainly made that."
"It's supposed to be a family heirloom," Hermione told him. "It was a gift from - well, from my mother-in-law."
"Really? It's lovely," Flitwick told her. "I'd tell you to keep it safe, but it appears to be doing a fine job of that by itself. By the way, a hearty congratulations to you and Severus, as well," he added. "Do be sure to tell your husband he will be missed here at Hogwarts."
"Thank you," Hermione managed. "Are you sure this isn't too valuable to wear?"
"It may indeed be valuable, but wizards have a penchant for handing down this kind of enchanted jewelry. I'm entirely certain that the enchantments are as you were told - spells to keep it from being stolen or lost. Wear it in good health, Miss Granger. I beg your pardon," he beamed. "Mrs. Snape. Now, I see our class is ready to begin. If you'll take your seat, please?"
Hermione took her place next to Harry, who had rushed in at the last moment, and both of the settled their things and waited while Professor Flitwick climbed onto the stack of books that brought him up to the podium's height.
To her surprise, Flitwick's lecture began by discussing elemental magic in spellcasting and how grounding the spell in the appropriate element increased the spell's efficiency. He quickly moved on to other ways of increasing spell efficiency, and while Hermione's quill made rapid notes, her brain continued to dredge up the comments made by Noggy the house-elf regarding the Earth Magic.
When Flitwick paused near the end of his lecture, Hermione raised her hand.
"Professor, could you elaborate a bit more on Earth Magic?"
Flitwick was momentarily nonplussed, but answered readily. "Earth Magic is another name for primitive magic, or elemental magic. As you may remember from your Theory of Magic classes last year, the force of magic can be tapped into by anyone sufficiently motivated or upset. Earth Magic is considered a feminine attribute, since females are the bearer of young. Additionally, the menstrual cycle is usually governed by the phases of the moon, which is another earth symbol. Young girls usually develop into their power at the same time they are developing into their womanhood, and the two are linked. As many of you young ladies have no doubt observed, your control of your power fluctuates depending on your cycle."
Although one or two girls blushed at this very casual reference to their personal lives, several heads nodded in agreement. Flitwick's expression cleared has he suddenly made the connection between her pregnancy and her question.
"Have you noticed a change in your powers in the last few months, Mrs. Snape?"
Hermione nodded, ignoring the whispers elicited by her new status and name. "Some days I could barely get anything to work, and yet lately I feel much more powerful."
"That's to be expected, in your condition," he assured her. "You'll find that your abilities will even out shortly after your confinement."
Hermione nodded, but Harry shifted closer. "What's he mean, confinement?" he hissed.
"It means when I give birth," she whispered back.
Harry turned a slight shade of green and turned his attention back to Flitwick, who had continued lecturing on elemental magic.
"On the other hand, young men are usually linked to what is sometimes known as Fire magic. Which is why, before you were given a wand and a proper magical education, your accidental magic occurred most often when you lads lost your temper.
"Now, please bear in mind that I'm making a rather broad generalization. A young girl is just as likely to magically break a window while throwing a temper tantrum, and a boy in the grips of melancholia can be just as destructive. What it does mean, however, is that the child is tapping into the magical elements around him rather than channeling it through a wand, and is actually performing a kind of wandless magic. There are several documented cases of elemental magic used to produce astonishing results. However. It is highly taxing on the person working such magic, and can have disastrous, unforeseen results. In some of those cases, it has been fatal.
"Does that answer your question, Mrs. Snape?"
Hermione assured the Charms professor that it did, all the while mulling over the fact that the normally gregarious little man had carefully not looked in Harry Potter's direction while discussing the fatal results of using wild, elemental magic.
*****
Just as Hermione had resigned herself to not receiving any mail from her husband at all, a short note from Severus arrived with the morning mail. Typically restrained, it expressed confidence in her ability to pass the NEWTS and contained both subtle encouragement of her spirits and more than one stern admonishment to take care of her health. The note ended only with his initials, but a blot of ink showed his quill had rested there for several moments before he decided on how to sign it.
Harry and Ron had received a note from Severus as well, though she didn't find out about it until she left the library rather late one evening and caught Harry waiting for her in the hall.
With Draco Malfoy's sudden cessation of his stalking habit, Hermione had begun to feel more at ease in wandering the halls of Hogwarts at will. The constant presence of one or both of her friends had not registered until Harry and Ron showed up, all too coincidentally, to walk her back to her room for the third night in a row. Stopping abruptly in the hall, she turned on them both.
Why are you following me?" she demanded.
Ron and Harry exchanged a look.
"Because Snape asked us to," Harry finally confessed. Ron's face screwed up, waiting for the outrage. It was not long in coming.
"Of ALL the NERVE!" she exploded. "How DARE he? I'm two months from graduating -- I'm bloody well HEAD GIRL! Do I look like I need a babysitter?"
"Maybe in a few months," Ron pointed out rashly. The glare he received in return was dangerous.
"Look, Hermione," added Harry quickly as she turned her ire on him. "He's just worried about you. He only asked us to keep an eye on you to make sure Malfoy or one of his little scrotes didn't give you a hard time."
"Yeah," chimed in Ron. "He called it an olive branch, whatever that's supposed to mean."
Hermione's mouth opened and closed several times before she could make her voice work again. "That is so.so.SLYTHERIN of him! He recruits you two to watch over me day and night by asking you to do it as a favor. That way you three get to be manly and play back-slapping bloody heroes all together, while I get to be the damsel in distress! And he knows that if I kick up a fuss about it and make you stop, it will be my fault that the three of you can't get along!!"
"Pretty much," Harry admitted lamely.
"Clever git, idn't he?" commented Ron.
*****
Someone once observed that the wheels of government grind slowly, and so it was well after school resumed and just after the first of May when Dumbledore received an official visit from a rather prissy string-bean of a wizard. Mr. Blackadder, from the Ministry, made it perfectly clear during the few hours he was at Hogwarts that he detested children, Deputy Head Mistress Professor McGonagall, and most especially the Headmaster himself. Having heard the talk from her classmates, Hermione found herself wondering if Severus would have cut the man off at the knees or destroyed him utterly with a few well-placed stabs at the man's ego.
Later that afternoon, once the ministry official had left, Hermione herself received a note from Dumbledore asking her to take tea with him. She showed up precisely on time, for once grateful for the rotating stairs that did not require her to climb up them to reach the tower to the Headmaster's office. She found the round office somewhat different than the last time she'd been invited up, as several shelves were empty, the books lying in stacks and the clean swaths on the shelves and cabinet doors were evidence of a vigorous dusting.
"Are you packing up things?" she asked, for some reason unnerved by the signs of industry.
"No, no, my dear. I'm afraid I've become a bit of a magpie over the years," Dumbledore confessed with a faint smile. "I have plans for this summer, and decided I'd get a head start on a little cleaning. Minerva does so hate clutter, and I've grown a bit weary of her nagging me."
He waved Hermione to a chair, where a teapot waited. Above his chair, Fawkes the phoenix perked up from his dozing and peered at Hermione with interest. His beady black eyes seemed focused on her midsection.
"Humans don't do eggs, or burning," she told the bird. "We do it this way instead."
The red and gold head bobbed, and Fawkes let out a single note of acknowledgment before he abruptly turned his back on both Hermione and Dumbledore, apparently intent on resuming his nap.
"Is the Ministry going to give you any trouble over Severus having married me?" Hermione asked as she poured a cup of tea at Dumbledore's request and offered it to him. "They can't really do much, can they?"
"The Ministry and Fudge most especially have been less than pleased with the way I conduct this school," Dumbledore answered lightly. "However, I still have the full confidence of the Board of Governors, and until such time as those gentlemen see fit to relieve me, Cornelius Fudge is without grounds or recourse."
"But isn't Mr. Blackadder going to tell the Board what he found out today?"
"Mr. Blackadder," began Dumbledore in amused tones that told Hermione exactly what opinion that individual was held, "came here to investigate the reports of a student being seduced by a teacher. Since Death Eaters officially do not exist, I could hardly send him back with a tale of non- existent ruffians. Instead, I simply made it quite clear that you and Professor Snape were not on good terms with each other until well after he had begun his leave of absence. What happened after he left my employ was none of my business."
"And did he believe you?"
Dumbledore found the ceiling rather interesting at that moment. "I must confess Mr. Blackadder was left with the distinct impression that Severus was a socially inept gentleman scholar, lost to the charms of a very clever young lady."
"You mean he thinks I'm a social climbing tart who's trapped herself a rich husband," Hermione guessed with a touch of outrage, then slumped into her chair. "Well, I suppose it could be worse." The tea was stirred and drunk without paying it more than a cursory glance.
"Indeed it could. And has been, in my time," he sighed. Almost to himself, he muttered, "I never thought I would live to see history repeat itself."
Hermione observed the tired droop of Dumbledore's shoulders. "Were things this bad when you defeated Grindelwald?" she asked timidly.
Dumbledore inhaled, then let out the breath slowly, and a sudden current of magic in the air seemed to ruffle around the wizard, swirling like smoky wings in the small room. The power radiated off him for a moment as memories pressed in from all sides.
"It was worse, actually," Dumbledore told her, his old man's voice sounding deep and resigned. "There was another war on as well, you see, with Muggles fighting Muggles all over the world. I was in my eighties when I battled Grindelwald, and I swore I would never allow such a thing to come to pass again. And yet, now it has."
Hermione spoke without thinking. "It's not, not really."
"No Miss Granger? I beg your pardon. Mrs. Snape."
"From what I've read," Hermione began seriously, "Grindelwald had a very small circle of supporters. World War II was something he simply took advantage of to further his own ends. Voldemort seems to have learnt from that mistake. He's recruited a lot of Death Eaters, doesn't he?"
"He has created a broader base of power, but then again, Hermione, so have I."
"But back then you acted alone, correct?"
"Not precisely alone," he corrected. "My godson fought at my side, as well as a few others, but nothing like the Order I have now."
"Your godson?" Hermione asked.
Dumbledore smiled fondly into his beard. "My godson, Gussy. Better known to you, I think, as Augustus Snape."
"Severus' father? I thought.. well, Severus told me he was like Lucius Malfoy."
"It is unfortunate a son never gets to know his father at the same age. While it is true Gussy eventually became a martinet, when he was twenty he was a hey-go-mad youth much like his father before him. The Weasley twins would have been hard pressed to keep up with such a scoundrel."
Hermione was fascinated. "What changed him?"
"The war, I believe. It changed us all. Augustus thought it would be diverting to accompany me to a rendezvous I'd arranged with some of the wizard families trapped in Moscow during the German occupation of Russia. The carnage absolutely appalled him, of course, but he didn't really take it to heart, not then, anyway."
"War is something Muggles did to Muggles, right?"
Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I found traces of Grindelwald's influence, though. I didn't catch up to him until two years later, but Gussy and I found evidence of wizards and witches being caught up in the war, killed by Muggles who were pawns of Grindelwald. We managed to liberate a few from a train, one night, and he had a young Romany witch attach herself to him before he could say her nay. I think she fell in love with him immediately.
"After I dealt with Grindelwald," and at that unassuming phrase Hermione struggled not to cough, "Augustus changed. Those years after the war were very difficult, for Muggles and wizard folk alike. I don't think he wanted to have children, but Lucretia wore him down and eventually they produced Severus. Unfortunately for the boy, he was born at the height of the sixties."
"My parents have told me about that," Hermione said.
"In compensation, Augustus was that much more strict with the boy, and he died just before Severus was out of school. A pity, really." Dumbledore set his cup on the table. "I've seen so many older wizards murdered in the past half century, Hermione. I worry about the effect that will have on our world."
Hermione nodded. "I'm working on a project with Madame Pomfrey, and I asked her if there are any census data for wizards. She didn't know of any, but it does seem as though wizarding folk are spread a bit thin."
"You may be aware that nearly one in five new students at Hogwarts are Muggle born like yourself, my dear. A further percentage have parents of both worlds, and are what Mr. Finnegan refers to as half-and-half. But tell me, Hermione. Do you know of many of your peers who have more than one sibling?"
"Well, there's Ron," she replied instantly, and Dumbledore nodded.
"Yes, well, the Weasley family is a rarity among pure-blood wizards. Most wizard families have only one, perhaps two children."
"A stable population of any sort requires the birth rate and relative longevity offset each other," Hermione quoted from a long-forgotten medical article she'd read. "Unless that population is upset by a mass event."
"Exactly, my dear. I fear our society is in grave danger of dying out, if only because we cannot replenish our best and brightest as quickly as Voldemort finds ways to kill them. Which is why I was so very pleased to hear you intended to keep your child, Hemione. The wizarding world needs fresh young minds like yours, and your marriage to Severus is a shining hope for me. I hope the two of you find much joy in the years ahead."
Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The Headmaster's optimism was straightforward and unwavering, like gazing into the sun. The currents of power surrounding the old wizard were just as warming, lulling her into complacent agreement despite the ever-present gnawing concern for Severus and the wizards with him.
Looking at the Headmaster, sitting behind his desk with a cup of tea hidden amongst the flotsam on his desk, he looked like someone's favorite uncle. With his long beard and hair, half-moon glasses and general air of an absent-minded professor, Albus Dumbledore could have been any doddering pensioner in wizard's robes.
It took a conscious act on Hermione's part to remember that this old man was likely the most powerful wizard alive, and was actively fighting a nasty little undeclared war against a being of almost pure evil. He was fighting to preserve not his own wrinkled skin, since his longevity could not deny the wages of time any more than any other wizard, or even of the status quo of the society, but the very preservation of his world.
Author's notes:
After hearing from more than a half-dozen Latin goobs, I concede the point and agree that Severus should have used the endearment 'Cara' instead of 'Carus.' What's the point of spending money on a Latin dictionary if it doesn't mention masculine and feminine versions? A Bateleur Eagle is a African Eagle with a five foot wingspan and noted for being an acrobatic flyer. See a picture of one here: http://animalpicturesarchive.com/animal/ViewImg.cgi?img=a4/Dn-a0179- Bateleur_Eagles-by_Darren_New.jpg.
*****
Bateleur Eagles are a Mediterranean Eagle with mostly black plumage and red heads.
Gathering her nerve, Hermione spared a quick wave to Ginny and headed straight for the sofa where Lavender and Parvati were chattering away over their respective holidays.
"I need to talk to you two," Hermione told them. "Not here, though, alright? In your room?"
"Happy to see you, too," Lavender responded sarcastically, although she had no chance of reaching anywhere near the acid Severus could attain. "Had a good holiday?"
"Lovely. Are you coming or not?"
Mystified, the two girls agreed and led the way to the seventh-year girls' room.
Hermione and Severus had agreed on a highly edited version of the facts, and with Dumbledore's endorsement she had come up with an appropriately Slytherin approach to presenting those facts. Following her classmates into their dorm, Hermione rehearsed the preferred version in her mind and steeled herself for the next few minutes.
Lavender ushered them all in the room before shutting the door. "Well, Granger, what's so important? New stack of books from the Library?"
"I think she met someone!" Parvati announced as she toyed with the end of her braid, the gold bangles on her wrist chiming musically. "She's got a love-bite on her neck!"
"Well, sort of," Hermione hedged. "There's something I wanted to show you. Two somethings, actually." Taking a deep breath, she left off unbuttoning her cloak and held out her left hand.
Both girls peered at the ring, identical looks of astonishment pasted on their faces as they realized the quality of the jewels.
"Is that an engagement ring?" asked Lavender, familiar with Muggle customs after spending so much time with her half-and-half boyfriend.
"No," Hermione told her evenly, ignoring the tone of disbelief in Lavender's voice. "It's a wedding ring. I've gotten married."
Lavender inhaled sharply, but both girls screeched as expected. In seconds, they were bouncing like animated ferrets, peppering her with questions.
"You're married? MARRIED?? To who - who is it?"
"Why on earth would you get married?" Lavender demanded. "Unless.OH my GOD!"
With a smile, Hermione nodded and opened her cloak, resting a hand on her swollen middle. In seconds the girls dragged her over to sit on the nearest bed, besieging her from both sides with questions and exclamations. Amidst the bubbly excitement, Parvati's questions were comprehended first.
"Who is he? Is it Ron Weasley?"
"Not with that ring," Lavender said sharply.
The girl's attitude was beginning to irritate her, but Hermione laughed, mindful of the impression she was trying to make.
"Wait, wait! First of all, I got pregnant last year. I'm due this summer. But we just got married the first day of the hols."
"I thought there was a charm on Hogwarts to prevent hormonal teenagers from getting pregnant," remarked Parvati disingenuously.
"That's only a legend, Par. It's not true," Lavender cut in. "Well, is it someone we know?"
"Yes and no," she answered. "It's Severus Snape."
"Who?" Lavender asked blankly.
"Severus - not, not," Parvati was quicker. "Professor Snape? Professor SNAPE?"
"NO!!" gasped Lavender. Hermione nodded.
The other two girls exchanged glances.
"Details! Ohmigosh. Details!"
"You have got to be kidding. A teacher?"
"Not just any teacher - the Potions teacher," added Lavender in an awed voice. "When did this happen? Did he seduce you? Did he get sacked because of you?"
"No, no," insisted Hermione, intent on heading off that particular line of thought. Careful not to mention any dates, she told the girls how she had been accosted by Death Eaters in Hogsmeade. An excellent audience, they gasped appropriately when she described the purpose of her abduction, though she made no mention of the identities of the men involved.
Revealing the fact that Snape had been present but leaving out certain details, Hermione led the girls to believe that Snape had been abducted as well. She told them how he had given her his wand while he attacked the lead Death Eater, and how he'd been savagely beaten by the others.
"I helped Madame Pomfrey nurse him back to health, and, well, one thing sort of led to another." She ducked her head, to hide her non-existent blush, and the two immediately jumped on the conclusion they'd been led to. Any hint of rape was transmuted to a quickly blooming romance of an injured man for his caretaker.
"Oh, that's so sweet!" gushed Parvati, and while Lavender still seemed skeptical of the emotional dynamic, she did not question the way it had come about.
"We're talking about Snape, right? Mean, nasty, greasy..."
"He's much different when he's not trying to teach," Hermione interrupted. "Much different," she repeated, and this time she did not have to pretend a blush as she recalled exactly how different he could be outside the classroom. All on its own, her hand went to the sucker bite he'd left on her neck.
Parvati squealed once more while Lavender giggled.
"And you got pregnant? I thought Snape would have cast a charm, or least given you a potion or something to prevent that."
"Well... we sort of got carried away..." Hermione drawled, setting off more giggles. "And he's spent the last few months talking me into getting married," she finished firmly. "So, we did."
Now, with any luck at all, the two leading gossip hens of Hogwarts would have the preferred version of her tale spread from the dungeons to the Astronomy tower by dinner, or curfew at the latest. Inwardly Hermione cringed, but continued to smile and laugh as she answered endless silly questions about Severus Snape's previously unsuspected romantic nature, fervently hoping he never heard some of the details she was currently inventing.
Once she escaped the clutches of Lavender and Parvarti, Hermione left the Gryffindor common room with another wave in Ginny's direction and gratefully made her way through the mostly silent hallways to the Head Girl's room. The black school bag was as light as ever, but her luggage was dragging heavily, causing her shoulder and back ache. She wanted nothing more than to find her room, greet her cat, and collapse on the big four-poster bed.
Nothing could be that easy, though, and she stopped dead on the last few treads of the staircase when Draco Malfoy suddenly appeared at the landing.
"Granger," he sneered. In a flash she realized his tenor voice was attempting the same silky domination Severus attained so easily, and her back stiffened in defiance. Why, he's nothing but a wanna-be, she thought. Neither as intimidating as his former head of house or his father, Draco's posing was a pale imitation of the men he wanted to model himself after.
Even as she thought this, he gave her the same insulting visual inspection that had been his habit, but the disdain flickered into confusion as he took in her pregnancy, revealed by the open front of her cloak. Shock, revulsion and fury chased each other across his face until the scorn returned.
"Another Mud Blood bastard, Granger?" he spat out. "Do you really think even Weasley will want you now?"
"If anyone here is a bastard, Malfoy, it's you. And certainly not my baby." Boldly she held out her left hand, showing the ring Severus had given her.
"What idiot would be stupid enough to give you that?"
"Well," she began lightly, "I call him Severus, but I believe you know him as Professor Snape."
Draco paled, but she could see the wheels turning. "So you were his whore."
"He gave me a message to give you, Draco," Hermione told him, ignoring his insult. "He particularly wanted to be sure you passed it along to your father."
"What could that traitor possibly have to say to my father?"
"He said to remind you that Slytherins protect their own."
"A blood feud?" Draco exclaimed skeptically. "Over a Mud-Blood? Don't make me laugh."
"I'm just passing on the message, Draco. It's a Slytherin tradition."
During one of their long talks, Severus had told her that Slytherins considered other members of their own house as fair a game as any other, but attacking the family of your enemy was grounds for a blood feud that could last for generations. Hermione had been less than polite in refuting that, given the Death Eaters' penchant for attacking at their target's weakest point.
That had let her in for a long lecture about the former glory that was Slytherin house, where cunning and ambition were considered valuable traits as long as personal honor was not compromised. A true Slytherin has honor above all else, Severus had insisted, or he's just another thug. Considering what Severus' personal honor had cost him, she was willing to concede the point.
Draco swallowed visibly, his contempt losing conviction. "I'll tell him. And you can tell him that my father will find him and make him pay for his betrayal."
"You'll have to tell him that yourself. You see, I have no idea where he's gone."
"You're lying."
"You can believe it, or not, I don't really care. He said he had some arrangements to make, and he'd surprise me when school was out." She descended the last few stairs towards the incredulous Slytherin, hoping to make it to her room before Draco's shock wore off. "I think he's gone to buy me a house," she added fatuously.
Hermione's ploy worked; Draco remained rooted to the spot while she swept past him, and for once had no parting comment as she left his presence. With carefully hidden relief she reached the sanctuary of her room and shut the door behind her.
Crookshanks immediately swarmed up to her, meowing in joy that his witch had returned, purring madly as he twined himself around her ankles. Hermione dropped to her knees and cuddled ecstatic ball of fluff to her, a single sob mingling with the relieved laughter that someone, at least, was happy to see her.
*****
In what Dumbledore would have termed one of the less savory pubs of Hogsmeade, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin huddled over a few pints of bitters. Unfortunately, the ale wasn't worth the nursing, and Remus pulled a face as he took a sip while watching the room. The crowd at the bar was moderate, but they'd taken care to find a table where the door could easily be observed without being too obvious. Black had long since stopped looking up every time it opened, though his grumbling had not ceased.
"He's late."
"He said he'd be here around seven, and it's just a bit after. Relax, Padfoot." The oak door opened again. "And there he is," Remus announced quietly.
Neither man made any gesture of greeting, and Severus Snape walked past their table without notice, only to casually backtrack and take the third chair.
"You're late," Black repeated.
"And you're as charming as ever," Severus told him. "I had business to attend to."
"Business that's kept you a week past our original timetable?" Sirius asked. "What the hell was so important you kept us waiting this long?"
"You didn't tell him?" Severus asked Lupin.
"No," Remus answered, grinning into his mug. "I thought you'd want to see his face when he heard."
"Heard what?"
"I'm beginning to like you, Lupin," Severus told the werewolf with a grim smile.
"Shut your gob and tell me," Sirius ordered.
This oxymoron received the disdain it deserved. "If you must know, Black, I was with a woman."
Black snorted. "What kind of tart would voluntarily spend that much time with you?"
Severus' hand shot out and grabbed the neck of Sirius' coat, causing ale to slosh out of his mug as he was dragged closer. "Say that again, Black, and you'll be saying it through a broken jaw. For your information, I got married."
"Bollocks," Sirius spat out in patent disbelief. "Who would marry you?"
"Hermione Granger," Remus volunteered, rather enjoying the spectacle Snape was making. If he'd had his doubts of the man's attachment to his new bride, those were being dispelled quickly. The two men had aggravated each other for years, but Snape would never have reacted to such a comment if it hadn't bothered him.
"Hermione? Ron's Hermione?" Sirius demanded, grabbing Snape's coat lapel in turn.
"She never was and never will be 'Ron Weasley's Hermione.' She's my wife."
"And soon to be a mother," Remus added helpfully. Might as well get it over with, he thought. At least they won't draw wands on each other in a crowd.
"WHAT?" Sirius roared. It was a tossup as to who dragged whom to their feet, and they hit the wall at the same time. Around the room, various elements dropped their conversations and watched the unfolding entertainment with interest.
"You bastard!!" Sirius raged. "She's a child!"
"She's eighteen," Severus told him. "And she's my WIFE!"
"She's half your age!"
"Outside, gents!" bellowed the barkeep coming out from behind the counter, his voice rising over the enthusiastic shouts of the onlookers. The exchange of insults paused, but neither man released his hold on the other.
"It's a long story," Remus told Black as he placed some Sickles on the table and grabbed Sirius' overcoat. "We can discuss this on the way." His prodigious werewolf strength was more than equal to the task of separating the two combatants, and he pulled them apart with ease.
"Just two blokes fighting over a bird," he called out to the room at large, getting an understanding laugh from many of the drinkers. "Sorry for the mess."
The barkeep waved him off, collecting the overturned mugs and picking up the coins. "Happens every damned day. I need to wear referee robes some nights."
"WALK," Remus barked as the three men found themselves on the quiet street, accompanying his order with a shove in the proper direction. "As I said, Padfoot, it's a long story. Do you want to tell it, Severus, or shall I?"
"By all means, Lupin, do indulge your sense of the dramatic," Severus drawled as he straightened his clothing. "I know you're dying to."
"Shut it, you," growled Sirius. "Moony? This better be good."
"Oh, it is," Remus replied glibly. "See, it all starts with Hermione Granger being snatched by Lucius Malfoy's little Death Eating ass-kissers, and then our friend here letting Malfoy get a wand up on him."
"Malfoy should be buggered by a hippogriff," Sirius bit out.
"For once, Black, I agree with you," Severus told him.
Remus Lupin's voice faded into the distance as they strode along the avenue lit only by the occasional torch and the quarter moon above, headed for parts unknown.
*****
Flanked by Harry on one side and Ron on the other, Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, hoping her stomach would behave itself despite the knots it was currently twisting into. The whispering began almost instantly, and followed her as she walked down between the tables to her usual place beside Seamus Finnegan. It reached a crescendo as she caught up her school robes against herself as she sat down, outlining her pregnancy for all to see.
Ron took the seat on her other side, while Harry quickly went around the end of the table to his spot opposite her. The buzz in the hall rose and fell as the story reached the ends of the hall and even up to the rafters, where the Gray Lady hovered with the Bloody Baron, whispering into his ear. The grim, silver splotched ghost floated near the ceiling and crossed his arms, then gave her an approving nod when she glared at him. "Another Slytherin, no doubt," he mouthed silently.
Hermione suddenly grinned at the absurdity of it all and shook her head. If she'd married anyone else, or gotten pregnant just after school, most of her classmates would have shrugged with disinterest and gone on with their lives without sparing her another thought. Once they left school and the relatively uncomplicated life within those bounds, they would probably realize just how silly their behavior was. She asked Seamus to pass the juice, which he did, along with a plate of toast. Normality began to creep back in as she piled her breakfast onto her plate and completely ignored the ninny flock around her.
Just the other side of Seamus, Lavender came and sat down. She did not answer the various greetings she received, and after a moment leaned over and whispered into her boyfriend's ear.
Seamus stopped chewing, then swallowed carefully. "What?" he demanded.
"I said, I'm pregnant, too," Lavender repeated crossly and quite loudly. Hermione could see the young woman's chin quiver. The table grew deathly quiet.
"Lavender..." stammered Seamus.
"Never mind," the girl muttered, rising quickly out of her seat. Before she'd gone but a few steps, Seamus caught her by the arm. He forced her to look at him by cupping her face with his free hand.
"Really?" he asked, in a tone of wonder.
Lavender nodded miserably. A tear trickled down her cheek and Seamus wiped it away with his thumb before kissing her. The kiss quickly passed from a tasteful peck to full-blown Public Display, amid rising cheers and applause from the nearby tables.
Seamus suddenly broke the kiss and whispered something, to which Lavender nodded shyly. He let out a whoop and lifted her off the floor, twirling her around.
"When's the wedding, Seamus?" called Ron, proving he wasn't completely oblivious.
"As soon as we graduate. Right?" he asked Lavender, who only nodded again and kissed him. Amid some laughter and a few rather off-color comments, the newly engaged couple sat back down to their breakfast.
Across the table from Hermione, Ginny leaned over and whispered into Harry's ear. Harry gulped visibly and grinned.
Ron, however, scowled and put his spoon down with a thunk. "Hermione," he began pointedly, "I was just telling Ginny here that you really can get pregnant the first time you shag someone."
Hermione gave Ron a look. His ears had gone red, as had Harry's, but whereas Ron's face was belligerent, Harry was carefully watching his plate and not his friend or, more importantly, the red-haired girl sitting beside him. Ginny, however, lifted her chin and stared back at her older brother with a dangerous light in her eye.
"Yes, it's true," Ginny answered before Hermione could respond. "Although, if one plans ahead, a visit to Madame Pomfrey can take care of it."
"That's very interesting, Miss Weasley," came McGonagall's crisp voice. Hermione and Ron turned to look at the Transfiguration teacher standing beside them, her mouth pursed in displeasure and a spot of color high on each cheek.
Professor McGonagall pinned each Gryffindor in the immediate vicinity with a sharp glance over her square glasses. "You, Miss Brown, and you, Mrs. Snape, and I think Miss Weasley as well, will take yourselves this very afternoon to Madame Pomfrey's office. The four of you will put together whatever information Pomfrey deems adequate to cover the subject of reproduction and birth control. It will be on my desk by Friday evening, no later. Once I've approved it, the Head Girl will see to it that a copy is given to every sixth and seventh form girl on the premises. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
"Yes, Professor," chorused the young women meekly.
"I've been insisting for years that something of the sort was needed in this school, but the Headmaster has always taken the Board of Governors view that sex education doesn't belong at Hogwarts." She sniffed in disdain. "As though none of them remember what they got up to when they were teenagers. I was at school the same year as Cornelius Fudge, and I could tell you stories.. Of course he doesn't remember it that way."
The older witch sniffed again, and Hermione had to hide her grin at the shock from her classmates. Ron looked as though he might die on the spot, while Harry was gaping, his mouth hanging open, giving a somewhat unattractive view of his last bite. The very thought of Minister Fudge acting like a randy teenager was highly disturbing.
"Remember, ladies. No later than eight o'clock on Friday, or I'll be deducting so many points from Gryffindor you'll wish Professor Snape were here instead." Despite her stern voice, the tiniest wink in Hermione's direction set off another grin. "Now. Where is the Head Boy? I think I need to have a word with him, as well."
The embarrassed sniggers at the Gryffindor table subsided as the morning squadron of owls swooped through the windows and began to drop mail to students throughout the hall. Though she knew it was silly, Hermione could not help a small flicker of disappointment that she did not receive a letter. Instead, she applied herself to her meal and listened absently to the others discussing their correspondence.
The startled cry of an unknown student alerted everyone to the latest avian delivery. Every eye in the Hall flew up to watch as a huge black and white eagle soared into the hall. Owls everywhere scattered for cover while the eagle circled the room, its long, broad wings taking the corners nimbly. Neatly backwinging, it dropped to the Gryffindor table, its heavy talons hitting the tabletop with a loud clatter.
The sudden silence was broken when Hagrid exclaimed happily, "That's a Bateleur Eagle, that is."
The eagle hopped lightly forward, crossing a distance longer than Hermione's arm to land just in front of her nearly empty plate. It regarded her steadily, the black feathers standing up around a reddish face as it cocked its head from one side to the other. Satisfied, it plucked at a cord around its neck with a huge, curved beak, pulling off a loop. A small box dangled from the loop.
"Thank you," Hermione managed, taking the box.
The eagle bobbed its head once and took off, wings beating loudly as it soared out the window, sending nervous owls in every direction.
Wicked," commented Ron.
What did you get?" asked Lavender.
The brown paper wrapping was inscribed 'Hermione Granger Snape,' and was tied with a heavy string. Hermione tore the string and brown paper off the box and opened it. Inside was a wad of cotton wool and a note.
Scanning the note quickly, it read;
My dearest Hermione,
My son has written me of your marriage, and I hope you will forgive an old woman for being eager to meet you. I have waited for this day for more than a decade, however, so I suppose that a few more weeks will make no difference.
Please accept this token of welcome to the family. It is the Snape family crest and has been a gift to each new bride for four centuries. Don't fret - the chain is spelled against breaking and the medallion itself has a powerful anti-theft charm on it. Please wear it as a gift from both Severus and myself. You have already given me the most priceless gift of all - the happiness of my son and the future grandchild you bear.
Until we meet, I remain,
Lucretia Snape
Within a nest of cotton wool, a bright gleam of metal and jewels shone. Hermione's breath caught as she carefully removed it.
The pendant was rather large, consisting mostly of a circle of many leaves formed of gold with an overlay of brilliant green enamel. In the center of the leaves, small garnets or possibly rubies formed the shape of an apple. A closer examination showed an edge of the apple had a bite taken from it, the apple's flesh depicted in tiny yellow diamonds. Other details made themselves known, such as the tiny brown enameled stem, and a small snake slithering among the tiny green leaves, its emerald eyes showing no remorse.
Turning it over, Hermione found a Latin motto inscribed on the back. "Cognitio indifferns virtus mallus," she read.
As she read the words, a tingle of magic went though her fingers, and she nearly dropped it. Common sense told her to immediately put the jewelry back in the box and ship it back to Italy, but the desire to have something so connected to Severus easily overrode that impulse. Instead, Hermione put the gold chain around her neck, the medallion inside her robes, and resolved to go see Professor Flitwick at her earliest opportunity.
The next afternoon, Hermione managed to get to Charms early enough to have the enchantment professor examine the necklace. Declining to touch it, Flitwick adjusted his spectacles and peered closely at the piece in Hermione's cupped hands. A few waves of his wand and quite a bit of muttering later, the diminutive wizard backed away, shaking his head. "I'm not familiar with this particular charm, but it's definitely the work of a master," he pronounced in his squeaky voice. "So is the jewel work, for that matter. It's not by Cellini or Boticelli, but a Renaissance master most certainly made that."
"It's supposed to be a family heirloom," Hermione told him. "It was a gift from - well, from my mother-in-law."
"Really? It's lovely," Flitwick told her. "I'd tell you to keep it safe, but it appears to be doing a fine job of that by itself. By the way, a hearty congratulations to you and Severus, as well," he added. "Do be sure to tell your husband he will be missed here at Hogwarts."
"Thank you," Hermione managed. "Are you sure this isn't too valuable to wear?"
"It may indeed be valuable, but wizards have a penchant for handing down this kind of enchanted jewelry. I'm entirely certain that the enchantments are as you were told - spells to keep it from being stolen or lost. Wear it in good health, Miss Granger. I beg your pardon," he beamed. "Mrs. Snape. Now, I see our class is ready to begin. If you'll take your seat, please?"
Hermione took her place next to Harry, who had rushed in at the last moment, and both of the settled their things and waited while Professor Flitwick climbed onto the stack of books that brought him up to the podium's height.
To her surprise, Flitwick's lecture began by discussing elemental magic in spellcasting and how grounding the spell in the appropriate element increased the spell's efficiency. He quickly moved on to other ways of increasing spell efficiency, and while Hermione's quill made rapid notes, her brain continued to dredge up the comments made by Noggy the house-elf regarding the Earth Magic.
When Flitwick paused near the end of his lecture, Hermione raised her hand.
"Professor, could you elaborate a bit more on Earth Magic?"
Flitwick was momentarily nonplussed, but answered readily. "Earth Magic is another name for primitive magic, or elemental magic. As you may remember from your Theory of Magic classes last year, the force of magic can be tapped into by anyone sufficiently motivated or upset. Earth Magic is considered a feminine attribute, since females are the bearer of young. Additionally, the menstrual cycle is usually governed by the phases of the moon, which is another earth symbol. Young girls usually develop into their power at the same time they are developing into their womanhood, and the two are linked. As many of you young ladies have no doubt observed, your control of your power fluctuates depending on your cycle."
Although one or two girls blushed at this very casual reference to their personal lives, several heads nodded in agreement. Flitwick's expression cleared has he suddenly made the connection between her pregnancy and her question.
"Have you noticed a change in your powers in the last few months, Mrs. Snape?"
Hermione nodded, ignoring the whispers elicited by her new status and name. "Some days I could barely get anything to work, and yet lately I feel much more powerful."
"That's to be expected, in your condition," he assured her. "You'll find that your abilities will even out shortly after your confinement."
Hermione nodded, but Harry shifted closer. "What's he mean, confinement?" he hissed.
"It means when I give birth," she whispered back.
Harry turned a slight shade of green and turned his attention back to Flitwick, who had continued lecturing on elemental magic.
"On the other hand, young men are usually linked to what is sometimes known as Fire magic. Which is why, before you were given a wand and a proper magical education, your accidental magic occurred most often when you lads lost your temper.
"Now, please bear in mind that I'm making a rather broad generalization. A young girl is just as likely to magically break a window while throwing a temper tantrum, and a boy in the grips of melancholia can be just as destructive. What it does mean, however, is that the child is tapping into the magical elements around him rather than channeling it through a wand, and is actually performing a kind of wandless magic. There are several documented cases of elemental magic used to produce astonishing results. However. It is highly taxing on the person working such magic, and can have disastrous, unforeseen results. In some of those cases, it has been fatal.
"Does that answer your question, Mrs. Snape?"
Hermione assured the Charms professor that it did, all the while mulling over the fact that the normally gregarious little man had carefully not looked in Harry Potter's direction while discussing the fatal results of using wild, elemental magic.
*****
Just as Hermione had resigned herself to not receiving any mail from her husband at all, a short note from Severus arrived with the morning mail. Typically restrained, it expressed confidence in her ability to pass the NEWTS and contained both subtle encouragement of her spirits and more than one stern admonishment to take care of her health. The note ended only with his initials, but a blot of ink showed his quill had rested there for several moments before he decided on how to sign it.
Harry and Ron had received a note from Severus as well, though she didn't find out about it until she left the library rather late one evening and caught Harry waiting for her in the hall.
With Draco Malfoy's sudden cessation of his stalking habit, Hermione had begun to feel more at ease in wandering the halls of Hogwarts at will. The constant presence of one or both of her friends had not registered until Harry and Ron showed up, all too coincidentally, to walk her back to her room for the third night in a row. Stopping abruptly in the hall, she turned on them both.
Why are you following me?" she demanded.
Ron and Harry exchanged a look.
"Because Snape asked us to," Harry finally confessed. Ron's face screwed up, waiting for the outrage. It was not long in coming.
"Of ALL the NERVE!" she exploded. "How DARE he? I'm two months from graduating -- I'm bloody well HEAD GIRL! Do I look like I need a babysitter?"
"Maybe in a few months," Ron pointed out rashly. The glare he received in return was dangerous.
"Look, Hermione," added Harry quickly as she turned her ire on him. "He's just worried about you. He only asked us to keep an eye on you to make sure Malfoy or one of his little scrotes didn't give you a hard time."
"Yeah," chimed in Ron. "He called it an olive branch, whatever that's supposed to mean."
Hermione's mouth opened and closed several times before she could make her voice work again. "That is so.so.SLYTHERIN of him! He recruits you two to watch over me day and night by asking you to do it as a favor. That way you three get to be manly and play back-slapping bloody heroes all together, while I get to be the damsel in distress! And he knows that if I kick up a fuss about it and make you stop, it will be my fault that the three of you can't get along!!"
"Pretty much," Harry admitted lamely.
"Clever git, idn't he?" commented Ron.
*****
Someone once observed that the wheels of government grind slowly, and so it was well after school resumed and just after the first of May when Dumbledore received an official visit from a rather prissy string-bean of a wizard. Mr. Blackadder, from the Ministry, made it perfectly clear during the few hours he was at Hogwarts that he detested children, Deputy Head Mistress Professor McGonagall, and most especially the Headmaster himself. Having heard the talk from her classmates, Hermione found herself wondering if Severus would have cut the man off at the knees or destroyed him utterly with a few well-placed stabs at the man's ego.
Later that afternoon, once the ministry official had left, Hermione herself received a note from Dumbledore asking her to take tea with him. She showed up precisely on time, for once grateful for the rotating stairs that did not require her to climb up them to reach the tower to the Headmaster's office. She found the round office somewhat different than the last time she'd been invited up, as several shelves were empty, the books lying in stacks and the clean swaths on the shelves and cabinet doors were evidence of a vigorous dusting.
"Are you packing up things?" she asked, for some reason unnerved by the signs of industry.
"No, no, my dear. I'm afraid I've become a bit of a magpie over the years," Dumbledore confessed with a faint smile. "I have plans for this summer, and decided I'd get a head start on a little cleaning. Minerva does so hate clutter, and I've grown a bit weary of her nagging me."
He waved Hermione to a chair, where a teapot waited. Above his chair, Fawkes the phoenix perked up from his dozing and peered at Hermione with interest. His beady black eyes seemed focused on her midsection.
"Humans don't do eggs, or burning," she told the bird. "We do it this way instead."
The red and gold head bobbed, and Fawkes let out a single note of acknowledgment before he abruptly turned his back on both Hermione and Dumbledore, apparently intent on resuming his nap.
"Is the Ministry going to give you any trouble over Severus having married me?" Hermione asked as she poured a cup of tea at Dumbledore's request and offered it to him. "They can't really do much, can they?"
"The Ministry and Fudge most especially have been less than pleased with the way I conduct this school," Dumbledore answered lightly. "However, I still have the full confidence of the Board of Governors, and until such time as those gentlemen see fit to relieve me, Cornelius Fudge is without grounds or recourse."
"But isn't Mr. Blackadder going to tell the Board what he found out today?"
"Mr. Blackadder," began Dumbledore in amused tones that told Hermione exactly what opinion that individual was held, "came here to investigate the reports of a student being seduced by a teacher. Since Death Eaters officially do not exist, I could hardly send him back with a tale of non- existent ruffians. Instead, I simply made it quite clear that you and Professor Snape were not on good terms with each other until well after he had begun his leave of absence. What happened after he left my employ was none of my business."
"And did he believe you?"
Dumbledore found the ceiling rather interesting at that moment. "I must confess Mr. Blackadder was left with the distinct impression that Severus was a socially inept gentleman scholar, lost to the charms of a very clever young lady."
"You mean he thinks I'm a social climbing tart who's trapped herself a rich husband," Hermione guessed with a touch of outrage, then slumped into her chair. "Well, I suppose it could be worse." The tea was stirred and drunk without paying it more than a cursory glance.
"Indeed it could. And has been, in my time," he sighed. Almost to himself, he muttered, "I never thought I would live to see history repeat itself."
Hermione observed the tired droop of Dumbledore's shoulders. "Were things this bad when you defeated Grindelwald?" she asked timidly.
Dumbledore inhaled, then let out the breath slowly, and a sudden current of magic in the air seemed to ruffle around the wizard, swirling like smoky wings in the small room. The power radiated off him for a moment as memories pressed in from all sides.
"It was worse, actually," Dumbledore told her, his old man's voice sounding deep and resigned. "There was another war on as well, you see, with Muggles fighting Muggles all over the world. I was in my eighties when I battled Grindelwald, and I swore I would never allow such a thing to come to pass again. And yet, now it has."
Hermione spoke without thinking. "It's not, not really."
"No Miss Granger? I beg your pardon. Mrs. Snape."
"From what I've read," Hermione began seriously, "Grindelwald had a very small circle of supporters. World War II was something he simply took advantage of to further his own ends. Voldemort seems to have learnt from that mistake. He's recruited a lot of Death Eaters, doesn't he?"
"He has created a broader base of power, but then again, Hermione, so have I."
"But back then you acted alone, correct?"
"Not precisely alone," he corrected. "My godson fought at my side, as well as a few others, but nothing like the Order I have now."
"Your godson?" Hermione asked.
Dumbledore smiled fondly into his beard. "My godson, Gussy. Better known to you, I think, as Augustus Snape."
"Severus' father? I thought.. well, Severus told me he was like Lucius Malfoy."
"It is unfortunate a son never gets to know his father at the same age. While it is true Gussy eventually became a martinet, when he was twenty he was a hey-go-mad youth much like his father before him. The Weasley twins would have been hard pressed to keep up with such a scoundrel."
Hermione was fascinated. "What changed him?"
"The war, I believe. It changed us all. Augustus thought it would be diverting to accompany me to a rendezvous I'd arranged with some of the wizard families trapped in Moscow during the German occupation of Russia. The carnage absolutely appalled him, of course, but he didn't really take it to heart, not then, anyway."
"War is something Muggles did to Muggles, right?"
Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I found traces of Grindelwald's influence, though. I didn't catch up to him until two years later, but Gussy and I found evidence of wizards and witches being caught up in the war, killed by Muggles who were pawns of Grindelwald. We managed to liberate a few from a train, one night, and he had a young Romany witch attach herself to him before he could say her nay. I think she fell in love with him immediately.
"After I dealt with Grindelwald," and at that unassuming phrase Hermione struggled not to cough, "Augustus changed. Those years after the war were very difficult, for Muggles and wizard folk alike. I don't think he wanted to have children, but Lucretia wore him down and eventually they produced Severus. Unfortunately for the boy, he was born at the height of the sixties."
"My parents have told me about that," Hermione said.
"In compensation, Augustus was that much more strict with the boy, and he died just before Severus was out of school. A pity, really." Dumbledore set his cup on the table. "I've seen so many older wizards murdered in the past half century, Hermione. I worry about the effect that will have on our world."
Hermione nodded. "I'm working on a project with Madame Pomfrey, and I asked her if there are any census data for wizards. She didn't know of any, but it does seem as though wizarding folk are spread a bit thin."
"You may be aware that nearly one in five new students at Hogwarts are Muggle born like yourself, my dear. A further percentage have parents of both worlds, and are what Mr. Finnegan refers to as half-and-half. But tell me, Hermione. Do you know of many of your peers who have more than one sibling?"
"Well, there's Ron," she replied instantly, and Dumbledore nodded.
"Yes, well, the Weasley family is a rarity among pure-blood wizards. Most wizard families have only one, perhaps two children."
"A stable population of any sort requires the birth rate and relative longevity offset each other," Hermione quoted from a long-forgotten medical article she'd read. "Unless that population is upset by a mass event."
"Exactly, my dear. I fear our society is in grave danger of dying out, if only because we cannot replenish our best and brightest as quickly as Voldemort finds ways to kill them. Which is why I was so very pleased to hear you intended to keep your child, Hemione. The wizarding world needs fresh young minds like yours, and your marriage to Severus is a shining hope for me. I hope the two of you find much joy in the years ahead."
Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The Headmaster's optimism was straightforward and unwavering, like gazing into the sun. The currents of power surrounding the old wizard were just as warming, lulling her into complacent agreement despite the ever-present gnawing concern for Severus and the wizards with him.
Looking at the Headmaster, sitting behind his desk with a cup of tea hidden amongst the flotsam on his desk, he looked like someone's favorite uncle. With his long beard and hair, half-moon glasses and general air of an absent-minded professor, Albus Dumbledore could have been any doddering pensioner in wizard's robes.
It took a conscious act on Hermione's part to remember that this old man was likely the most powerful wizard alive, and was actively fighting a nasty little undeclared war against a being of almost pure evil. He was fighting to preserve not his own wrinkled skin, since his longevity could not deny the wages of time any more than any other wizard, or even of the status quo of the society, but the very preservation of his world.
Author's notes:
After hearing from more than a half-dozen Latin goobs, I concede the point and agree that Severus should have used the endearment 'Cara' instead of 'Carus.' What's the point of spending money on a Latin dictionary if it doesn't mention masculine and feminine versions? A Bateleur Eagle is a African Eagle with a five foot wingspan and noted for being an acrobatic flyer. See a picture of one here: http://animalpicturesarchive.com/animal/ViewImg.cgi?img=a4/Dn-a0179- Bateleur_Eagles-by_Darren_New.jpg.
*****
Bateleur Eagles are a Mediterranean Eagle with mostly black plumage and red heads.