A/N: And now we will jump to the way Dumbledore must punish his old Potions master, even though the evidence can pretty much speak for itself, I guess. (Apologies, terrible joke. Couldn't resist.) We will also show the way that Julie's learning here at Hogwarts, she has two parents' expectations to live up to. Here you go.

Chapter Five: The Heir of Both

"Well, 'Mione, I'm here!" The new Professor of Flying at Hogwarts, newly elected in October after Madam Hooch's retirement, zoomed in quick and landed in the window. "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were with a class-"

"It's alright, Har'. Now get in and for cripes' sake shut the window." He obeyed quite well. Hermione helped her friend down off the ledge onto the marble floor, pointing out to him that this was not a class, quite. "It's only friends of mine and Sev's, you know?" Indeed, it seemed as if a motley party had assembled on the desks and chairs, drinking an assortment of beverages from an assortment of cups, neatly divided into Slytherins and Gryffindors with two poor Muggles in the corner, scared.

"Did you have Malfoy bring the absinthe here?" Harry asked jokingly, indicating the brilliant green bottles on a desk or two.

"No, they're from Beauxbatons, I think it's one of Fleur's sick jokes."

"You still haven't told me why I'm up here in the Potions room."

"It's a surprise, Harry, sit down."

"Now, Hermione!" a deep voice from a little above her head demanded. "You haven't taken a leaf from McGonagall already?" Without even turning around, Hermione addressed her redhaired Auror friend.

"Not if you haven't taken up with Mad-Eye's work, Ron." There was a second, then she spun around to hug and smile, and to be picked up quite ingenuously by the six-nine Ron. "I'm not a Quaffle, put me down!"

"Nope, 'Mione, you're definitely a Bludger type," Harry joked, clapping Ron on the back as he returned their friend to ground with at least normal speed.

"So what's the party? I haven't seen this since your- -well, this is probably what it would've looked like had you not eloped on us."

"Would you really have enjoyed a night with Slytherins, Ron?"

"You're right, there. So tell me, is this an announcement type?" Hermione went a little pink, then fumbled for a term, which came out:

"Sort of."

"Right! I knew it, Harry! Eight Galleons says it's a boy!"

"Ron, don't bet," Hermione warned him, now bright red with blushing. "The odds are somewhat fixed against you."

"So you cheated, then?"

"Ron!"

"Well, me and Ginny did," Harry remarked innocently, forcing Ron to go even redder than Hermione was and cast a look at him. "It's just a charm, Ron, doesn't mean you find out twins or not, just blue or pink, y'know?"

"There are no twins in the forecast here!" Hermione almost yelled at him, beginning to feel a little silly that she hadn't warned them earlier about the nature of the announcement. "It's about when I was kidnapped, see?"

The guys went stiff, faces set against events they'd rather not recall. Abruptly Harry's face went chalk white, realizing another possibility involved there.

"Oh, I get it, 'Mione," he said quietly. "Are you adopting from a magic one, or-"

"Harry, you're off yet again. We aren't adopting anyone."

"Then how come Prof- -Severus owled me to- -nevermind, I just assumed it would be-"

"Professor 'Mione!" Another professor walked into the classroom, a large glass jar well duct-taped to his hand somehow. "I've got you some- -brought you- -uh," Professor Longbottom of Herbology pointed to the jar he'd brought. "It's Mandrake juice, I didn't want to spill it."

"Thank you, Neville, I didn't know that they had gotten to their full size yet!"

"Well, see, they hadn't, but some Muggle stuff improved their growth quite quickly," he explained, with the air of one who had a secret for the first time. "It's called nitrogen plant food, did quite well, like a little magic dust for plants."

"How'd you ever manage finding that in Muggle shops, Nev?" Ron asked, knowing full well Neville was a wizard-born.

"And who's instructed you in all the ways of duct tape?" Harry asked, pointing to the fact that he hadn't cut the tape from the roll yet and was stuck to it. "Some Muggle-born kid?"

"Well, uh, no, well, sort of, kinda-" Hermione stepped in to keep Neville from blowing open the whole secret by waving her parents over from the corner where they'd been scared. Now completely horrified by some of the spectacles around them, (a Slytherin was passing a pet snake around,) they hurried nervously to where their daughter called them.

"Mum, Dad! You remember Harry, Ron, and Neville?"

"Oh, yes...friends of yours. Hello," Mr. Granger replied very nervously. Things might have been restored to relative normalcy had not the doors exploded inward with a crashing sound. The puff of smoke cleared, leaving just a knot of kids, all fifth-years, with Professor Snape behind them.

"Damn it all, Starcatcher! You were told to burst it silently, not frighten everybody in the room within!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but you said it was empty now." Julie's voice, instead of scared and faintly plaintive, had a note of cold defiance behind a very obstinate bravery. Snape only took this badly, shouting louder:

"Well, I was lying, girl! Haven't you learned anything in three weeks here at Hogwarts?"

"Not to be belligerent, sir, but I believe that I had lying down by two at least!"

"'Not to be belligerent, sir'?" Snape mocked in a ridiculously high voice, causing Neville to cringe, Harry to look stunned, and Hermione to grow more ticked than usual. "You are being belligerent, Starcatcher, and I ought to take off fifty points from Gryffindor!"

"I DARE YOU!" the dark-haired student yelled right back, not only furious to death of being screamed at so, but well aware of just whose classroom she had burst into. Snape had his wand in the air ready to point at her, before a glance to the end of the room convinced him otherwise. When he looked back at Starcatcher, she was grinning, not only perfectly and completely calm, but almost obnoxiously so, enought to make both of her parents wonder which side that was from. Instead of even waiting for Professor Snape to put his arm down, she turned and walked straight to Professor Neville, saying: "Told you I could do it. Got the cabbage yet?"

"Hold it, Starcatcher!" Hermione stopped her, with a voice every bit as steely as Professor McGonagall's. "You burst that door incorrectly on a bet?" Starcatcher nodded guiltily. "What have I told you about gambling with professors?"

"Not to do it anymore, ma'am."

"And did you listen?"

"Yes I did, ma'am."

"The door's wide open!"

"Well, I didn't say that I obeyed you." The grin was back on Julie's face, but not obnoxious now. "And I already had this bet made when you lectured me on gambling, so it wouldn't have been moral not to keep it- -right?"

"Class dismissed," her father told the students, who scampered off in fear of death and homework. Repairing and then closing the doors of the classroom, he was quick to join his wife and greet her family. "Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, how are you this afternoon?" he inquired politely if quite nervously. A glance over their shoulders to Julie proved just how scared he was of angering them. Julie realized that they were her grandparents, and in all likelihood, probably still not used to her father's greater age than her mother's. A second's thought proved that they would probably not like the idea of her very much, either, or at least not the time of her birth and what her mother called 'technical illegitimacy.' She also couldn't help but grasp they carried dentist's tools, looked very nervous in the company of wizards, and were glancing at the red-haired man and his friend with the broomstick as if they might be the only sane ones present. Deciding to take the safest route, she addressed Professor Longbottom about the duct tape clinging to his left hand.

"Here, Professor, I think you'd better get that tape off. Always makes me itch if I leave it on my skin long. No, pull it slowly, or you'll take all off your hairs off- -alright, there."

"Thank you, Miss Starcatcher. Do I roll it up now or just tear off what I've used yet?"

"Well, sir, actually, you can tear it off the roll before you go somewhere, the roll doesn't need to stay attached like that."

"Oh, I get it, then." Professor Longbottom leaned in a little closer. "I think your father looked more stunned than I've ever seen him."

"Well, professor, I will say I like your red cabbage. That, and Mum was telling me about the times he yelled at you. Sort of a get-back kind of thing I did, y'know, sir?"

"I only hope he doesn't yell at you that loudly when you're at home."

"Naw, it's only Starcatcher he yells at. His Julie Snape's immune to everything at home, see? It's kind of a plot to make sure that neither parent helps me."

"But don't you hate it? The yelling, I mean."

"Not really, I think Dad means well to do it. If he didn't yell at me after I messed up the curse last week, I wouldn't have practiced it until I learned to do it well. And if I hadn't learned to do it well, I would have failed the test, and then quite possibly done it backwards when I needed it. One shouldn't shoot one's foot twice with a Swelling Curse, wouldn't you say?"

Professor Longbottom laughed and agreed with her, just as Harry wandered over to meet his new student, who was evidently not leaving though dismissed.

"Who's your young friend, Neville?" The girl didn't blink at his scar, even, and Harry began to see this was no common student here.

"You'd better tell him, Nev," Severus observed a little wryly. "He won't believe you, but I think you'd better tell him."

"Should I really?" Neville asked Hermione. She nodded. "Alright, Harry, this is Julie, she's a student."

"Not that, Longbottom!" Snape exclaimed in mild exasperation. Neville sighed at what he had forgotten.

"Oh, yeah, that part. She's also Sev and Hermione's daughter."

***************************

As matters turned out, Julie's grandparents were more happy to meet her than they seemed ready to quibble about how she got there. They were also more interested in asking about how old and tall and bright she was than how her parents came to have her fifteen years ago, and easily more cheerful to hear that she liked Shakespeare than to quibble about crime or Palaniuk's novels, neither minor former interest Julie mentioned. Her grandmother wound up enthralled by Professor Neville's account of how she was doing in Herbology, and as an ardent gardener was thrilled by this prospect. Her grandfather showed a lot of interest in her forgery and lockpicking tools, which she passed off as being mainly for calligraphy and electronics repair- -both uses most were actually designed for. It wasn't lying, as she'd only used them thus since coming to Hogwarts, but merely an omission of some details he'd find frightening. As a dentist, her grandfather was eying both Julie's old tools and her front teeth, which Julie found to be as outsize as her mother had thought them years ago. Grandfather Granger pointed out that her mother's had grown right, never having been told of the interference whence, and Julie made a mental note to have hers shrunk soon. As the party was ending, Neville took a wizarding picture of the Snapes and the Grangers, which moved quite subtly showing nods and blinks and smiles. Julie was pleased to note she had her grandmother's eyes as well, and her half-smile looked just like her grandfather's. It was nice at last to meet her extended family, including the more honorary members. Hermione had already told her a few old school stories about Harry and Ron and what they did, as well as what she used to think of Draco Malfoy. Since Lucius Malfoy's death and his wife's helpful Ministry spy work, however, she could only conclude that the grown Auror Draco was at least not as bad as she'd thought him then, though not nearly so good as Severus thought him. With his father's being killed back in their sixth year, Malfoy had come to follow Snape as a mentor and confidante, enough so that the Professor seemed to like him as a friend of sorts. Considering she'd heard his bad points from her mother and his good side from her dad, Julie's final opinion on Malfoy was that he 'looked like James Marsters and seemed like an okay sort.' This remark was to confuse all but kind Harry, who had been raised among Muggles and consequently knew a little of their acting.

"He's a Muggle actor, Severus, thought very attractive by people ten years ago." Harry then turned and whispered aside to Hermione; "Played a vampire for nine years in America." It was odd how well her parents' friends knew to say one thing to the one Snape and another to the other, thus insuring that noone would be offended. 'Uncle Harry,' as Julie seemed the wont to call him, managed to draw her quietly away from her mother's watch to talk about flying and Quidditch, which her father had arranged for her to learn soon. And 'Uncle Ron' was just as bad there, discussing games and types of player until she knew enough to pretty well decide what position she wanted to play on a Quidditch team.

"Either a Seeker if I can fly, or a Keeper if I can't fly," she decided. "I at least know I can catch whatever you throw at me."

"Even something this big?" Harry pulled out a Snitch with the wings unwound.

"Even smaller." Julie showed them a bouncy ball the size of a marble. Ron wanted to see if it bounced or not, then was amazed at what he thought was fabulous Muggle technology. Snape shrugged it off as merely latex molded rubber, until Julie shot it off the opposite wall to catch it, at which point the theatrics began. Hermione managed to intervene just as an improptu game of Very-Tiny-Catch-Ball was breaking out among her husband, daughter and a lot of school friends, most of whom were either Gryffindors, Slytherins, Beauxbatons graduates, or the couple who came from Bulgaria. Her excuse for stopping it was what Professor McGonagall would think, but very unfortunately, Professor McGonagall had entered right behind her and agreed with them:

"Only let's go out and use some brooms and Snitches, make a proper game of Quidditch after we pick sides. Come on!" Abruptly the entire crowd of wizards began to race out toward the Quidditch field, leaving Julie, her mom, and her grandparents to follow and see what transpired. Hermione and the Grangers watched the scrimmage game with quite a lot of interest, not noting the absence of Severus, who would never skip a Quidditch match, especially one where he could Seek against Harry; Draco Malfoy, who had gone aside with his old Potions professor, and Julie, who was in for a surprise from them.

"I've brought the one you wanted, Severus. Firebolt XP-550, right?"

"Perfect, Draco. Julie, come here a moment."

"Yes, dad?" She came and was handed a broomstick then.

"Do hold this broom for me, dear. Now, Draco, I think she's a Seeker type, but if she flies like her mother, then she's Keeper sort. How are they sizing the gloves now in Paris, would she be a ten or eleven, there?" Paying Julie absolutely no attention, the professor held one of her hands up for Malfoy to see.

"I'd actually say she's a twelve, sir, the long fingers and span of the thumb muscle. Seeing how she's got a bit of a snap wrist, I'd say lace sides instead of those Velcro ones, and perhaps a guard inside of the forearm, see?" Malfoy had effectively traced an imaginary Quidditch glove on Julie's hand, not that she had the faintest what the two men were on about. She decided not to ask, just pay attention more. "I'm not sure what you'd want to do for Seeker gloves, as it's really a 'to each his own' market, but if she turns out a Keeper I'd say suede-palm twelves. Which is her flying hand, cause lefties need them special-made?"

"Actually, Drac', that's the first broomstick she's touched quite yet. I've arranged for Harry and I to teach her starting tomorrow, but- -Julie, do you want to play Quidditch?"

"I- -I suppose so, yeah."

"Good, 'cause it occured to me that I'd never asked you yet. You aren't by any chance afraid of heights, though, dear?"

"I don't know, I've never really been high enough."

"Well, then, I suppose I'd better teach you to fly then, hadn't I?" Severus grinned, something Draco hadn't seen more than seven times in his life, easily, before proceeding to turn the broom horizontally. "Okay, the bare, sort of pointy part's the front end, and the brush part is the tail. The goal is to balance between them to ride it. Have you ever ridden a horse before?"

"No, just an elephant and a bicycle, Dad- -no, I did try a moped once...and fell off."

"Alright, well, the way you had to balance on the elephant-"

"I didn't, really, just climbed in the saddle and tied myself onto it."

"Okay, the way you have to balance on a- -bicycle, is it?- -try to do that on the broom here, so you don't go falling off into oblivion." Obediently Julie attempted to mount the broom. "Always climb on towards your left, dear," he corrected, as Julie went at it from the wrong side. "It makes sure you can use your right foot for kickoff, though you want to use both to get up faster. Now, which hand do you write with? I wasn't quite paying attention in class." Julie looked guilty and hedged for a moment. "Don't try that game with me, girl, I know full well you know how to write at least!"

"But am I right- or left-handed, Dad?"

"You don't mean to tell me that both can write!"

"Well, sort of, yeah, they can."

"Malfoy, I've found an ambidextrous catcher!" Snape spent a few moments in the outskirts of rapture until Malfoy sighed and reminded:

"For Gryffindor." The professor's face fell like a brick from air, then rose back up to the usual cynic's smile.

"True, but I do get to see McGonagall's face when a Snape gets to Seek for the Gryffindors- -or Keep, Julie, whichever it turns out you fancy, girl."

"I think I'd really like to be a Seeker, Dad."

"Well, it'll take a lot of flying practice. A Seeker goes all over the field very quickly, it's a good thing we found the right broom for you."

"Just exactly how fast can this broom go, Dad?"

"About seventy-nine knots per hour top speed," Malfoy explained a bit dryly to her, watching as Severus went paler than Julie did. "But don't worry, it's got a control 'til you've learned better."

"Draco, I've known you since the age of eleven, it better have a speed control to start with!"

"Is this right to sit on it, Dad?"

"Yes, dear, now just kick off, you'll go up fairly quickly, and you steer by just leaning to left or to right, and to stop you just pull up the front of the broom. Please try not to fall to your death, dear, or your mother will give me a rooster's head."

"Alright, Daddy."