--Saturday morning--

The day dawned bright and clear.

Snape went through the motions of existing in a complete daze. He rehearsed, in front of a mirror, various ways of greeting Livia, all of which resulted in her slapping him, cursing him, or simply sticking to form and quietly poisoning him later in the evening. He had taken a double dose of bezoar essence in preparation for the latter.

Livia - or rather one of the servants - had owled the previous day to announce that the Hogsmeade meeting had been cancelled, since many family members lived outside the British Isles and could not make it in time. The Snape clan would instead make directly for Hogwarts, where they were expected to arrive sometime in the later afternoon. Dumbledore had instructed all students to remain in their dormitories from five o'clock onwards, and the Great Hall was strictly out of bounds to anyone but staff for the entire weekend. A wise precaution. Grandmama had no fondness for children of any sort; she tolerated those of respected wizarding families, but Snape had a good idea of what chaos might ensue if she was to be introduced to - for example - an over-bright muggle-born like the Granger girl.

Snape was very good at hiding his emotions as a rule, except on those odd occasions - almost all of which involved the Potters, senior or junior, and/or Sirius Black - when he lost his temper and went temporarily berserk. He always regretted such undisciplined displays afterwards, especially since Lucius Malfoy tended to refer to them disparagingly as 'Sevvie's little hissy fits'. However, on this dread day, the potions master was having to make a truly super-human effort suppress the quietly bubbling hysterics that threatened to boil over and scald everyone around him.

By five o'clock, however, the appointed time of Grandmama's arrival, Snape was strangely calm. This could partly be attributed to the vast amount of asphodel-based potions he had been consuming since six that morning, but part of it was the knowledge that the horror was finally here - which meant that the end was in sight.

--Saturday, 5 p.m.--

"I think they are here."

"Oh my God."

"Calm down, Severus."

"I'm perfectly calm! Stop harassing me!"

"She's just your grandmother, pull yourself together, man!"

"That's fine for you to say, McGonagall…" Snape got no further. The black carriage pulled by four plumed flying horses, Livia's favourite method of travel, was descending out of the twilight. It landed gracefully, without a jolt, and out of it stepped…

Two young men, wearing slightly nervous grins. One of them was black- haired and greasy, like Severus; the other, who looked younger, had curly, dirty blonde hair and mildly psychotic blue eyes. The older of the two opened the rear door of the carriage, offering his hand to the person within…a small, thin, claw like hand holding an umbrella handle shaped like a snake appeared, followed by a bony arm swathed in black lace. And following that, the most peculiar creature one could ever imagine calling 'human' emerged, looking like nothing so much as a querulous vampire bat. Livia Snape was tiny, painfully thin - that was discernible even through the thick, curtain-like black robes she was draped in - with a wizened, pointy visage. Wispy grey hair could be seen beneath a drooping black hat, but beneath the hair, eyes like coals glittered with a ferocity that made you want desperately to be somewhere else…anywhere else…

If Severus Snape could be called sinister, then Livia was sinister's grandmother. And then some.

"Greetings, grandson." The voice was cracked with age, nevertheless holding a raspy authority that was enough to make Snape cringe.

"Greetings, grandmama." He replied, tentatively. "Er…how nice to see you."

"You lie." She hissed, peering at Severus. He backed away slightly, indicating Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"You remember Headmaster Dumbledore…"

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Madame Snape."

"…and this is Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress, transfiguration professor, and head of Gryffindor House."

"Gryffindor?" Livia spoke the word as though it were a profanity. "We did not bring you up to associate with Gryffindors, Severus…*or* with Animagi."

McGonagall, torn between anger at being insulted and unwilling respect that Livia had identified her as an Animagus so easily, said nothing, but narrowed her eyes slightly and gave Livia a rather curt nod. Snape, glancing unhappily from one to the other, turned his attention to the young men who accompanied Livia.

"Headmaster, Minerva, may I introduce my cousins Trefusis and Gaius Snape."

"Hello." Said the brothers together, politely enough.

"Welcome, both of you. Will you come inside?" Dumbledore gallantly offered Livia his arm. She hit him with her umbrella.

"I can walk unassisted, I thank you!"

Dumbledore decided to keep his distance.



--Saturday, 7 p.m.--

Many of the Hogwarts students had spent Saturday afternoon speculating on just what was going on in the Great Hall that would necessitate keeping them out. Some of the older students were quite indignant at Dumbledore's caginess about the whole thing; others feared something terrible and secret was going on.

Fred and George Weasley were running a book, and most of the Gryffindors were assembled in their common room, placing bets.

"A galleon says it's a staff piss-up." Seamus Finnigan was saying.

"Right, that's it. Everyone taken a bet?" George wrote down Seamus' decision and formally closed the book. "Now we need to find out what's going on in there."

"How are we supposed to do that, then?" Demanded Dean Thomas.

"Easy." Retorted Fred. "Someone sneaks along to the Hall and has a look. No problem."

"Well, *I'm* not doing it." Dean said firmly.

"Me neither."

"Nor me."

"Count me out."

In the end, they used Fred's wand as a random selector -though perhaps Fred's idea of random was not quite the same as everyone else's, since the twins took great delight in the fact that the wand chose poor Neville Longbottom to be the Gryffindor spy.

"Don't worry, Neville." Harry comforted the terrified boy, "you can use my cloak."

"And we'll come with you as far as the entrance hall." Put in Hermione, including Harry and Ron in her promise.

"Ok." The unfortunate boy quavered.

Neville, swathed in Harry's invisibility cloak, was soon stumbling unhappily in the direction of the Great Hall. Harry, Hermione and Ron settled themselves on the deserted stairs to wait for him as he tiptoed to the doors and peered in.

Two seconds later he was back, throwing off the cloak in his horror, his face deathly pale and his body shaking with uncontrollable panic.

"Neville!" Hermione cried, alarmed. "What's wrong? What's going in there?"

"Snapes…" whispered Neville.

"Snape's what?" Ron demanded.

"Snapes!" Wailed Neville. "Dozens and dozens of them…"

The trio should, of course, have turned and fled. But they were Gryffindors, and traditional Gryffindor courage allowed them to creep up to the doors, with a trembling Neville in tow, and take a look for themselves.

Neville had been right. Snapes, as far as the eye could see…countless tall, thin, greasy, black-haired denizens, standing in little groups holding drinks and conversations, peering distrustfully at one another as though they didn't like each other very much.

"Bloody hell…" said Ron weakly. And rather too loudly. He cringed as Snape - 'their' Snape - peered around the door, near which he had been lurking, hoping to slip away unnoticed at some opportune moment.

"And just what," the potions master growled, "are you Gryffindors doing here?"

"We…we, er…"

Snape's eyes narrowed, but before he could speak again, a tiny old woman clubbed him in the back of the head with an umbrella almost as long as she was tall.

"Move, stupid child! What are these brats doing here?" She glared at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the cowering Neville. But then, incredibly, her expression changed. It didn't soften -her face would have cracked - but a glint of interest came into her sharp black eyes. She leered at them - and especially at Harry.

"Well, Severus, why aren't you making these young people welcome?"

"Grandmama, they are…"

"Introduce them to me, ignorant wastrel!"

"Yes, grandmama." Snape growled, glaring at the Gryffindors with an expression that quite clearly said he'd get them later, and when they were least expecting it. "Weasley, Granger, Longbottom, and…*Potter*." He spat out Harry's name.

"Hmm…" mused Livia, thoughtfully. "A Weasley…pureblood family…some influence with the ministry…yes, Weasleys have their uses…Longbottom, I fancy I know your parents. Aurors, were they not?"

Neville nodded dumbly.

"Always helpful to keep in with aurors…I know your grandmother as well, boy. Respectable lady…and Potter…" her eyes fixed on Harry. "Of course, you are the boy we must all thank for ridding us of that badly brought up, nasty little upstart, Voldemort…"

Ron and Neville winced at the name.

"Granger…I don't know any Grangers…"

"I'm muggle born, Madame Snape." Hermione informed her crisply. Livia shot her a look.

"Are you, indeed? So you know nothing, I expect, of our family?"

"Actually," Hermione began in the tone that meant she was about to give a lecture, "I read that the Snape family is one of the oldest and most respected pureblood families in existence…" before she could go on, Livia burst into cackles.

"Splendid! Splendid! Don't just stand there, you great dimwit," she snapped at Severus, "invite these charming children in."

"Oh, but…" seeing the look in her eye, Snape licked his lips, shivered slightly and turned a horrible smile upon the students. "Do come in, *dear* children."

With a fearful glance at Snape, Neville, Harry and Ron slipped past him and the leering Livia into the great hall. Hermione followed with her head held high, smiling politely at Livia as she passed her.

"*Now* what?" Gasped Ron, as they stood in the midst of a sea of Snapes.

"I don't know." Harry whispered back. "We mingle, I suppose. Try to find Dumbledore or McGonagall." Harry remembered vaguely reading a children's book, some years ago, about two normal everyday muggle children who'd been invited to a party by a little witch girl - surrounded by other, less friendly witches, and especially the little witch's fearsome, evil great-great-great-etc grandmother, they had spent a fearful evening hoping not to be poisoned or used in some deadly party game. Standing here surrounded by Snapes, Harry was reminded uncomfortably of that once-amusing story.

In attempting to find Dumbledore, the group was accosted by several Snapes, thankfully many of which seemed *less* sinister than the potions master. They met Trefusis and Gaius, who were quite friendly and offered them blackberry punch; they met two brothers from the Irish side of the family, the Gallagher-Snapes, who confided that they would be performing at a musical soiree later; and they also saw, to their astonishment, what appeared to be a Muggle, hovering uncertainly in a corner.

"Erm…excuse me," said Harry politely to Gaius, "who is that over there?" He nodded towards the bewildered looking muggle.

"Oh, he's from a splinter branch of the family. Bit of a strange story, really - one of Mad Uncle Drusus' daughters ran off and married a muggle - he's her son. He doesn't really understand about wizards, I gather, doesn't even know he's a half-blood. He's an actor or something…pleasant sort of chap, his name's Alan, Alan Rickman-Snape." Gaius paused to take a sip of punch while Trefusis added,

"He's here for the…er, *ritual* afterwards."

"Ritual?"

"Yes, you know, the muggle sacrifice. Happens at all good pureblood family gatherings."

Horrified, Harry thanked Gaius and Trefusis for the information and immediately scurried over to where the unfortunate Alan Rickman-Snape was standing.

"Oh, hello," said the unsuspecting halfblood brightly. "Bit of a funny party, this, isn't it? I'm not really sure I like it."

"Leave!" Harry hissed. "Leave, now."

"Well, that's a bit rude…surely I should…"

"I mean it! These people are dangerous! Get out if you value your life!"

The actor simply smiled at him.

"You're pulling my leg." He said jovially. Fortunately, Severus Snape turned up at that moment, and after giving the other man a swift, appraising look, glanced quickly around to check the coast was clear, pulled out his wand, muttered "obliviate!" and ushered his confused relative out of the doors. Harry and the others sighed with relief as they heard Alan's car revving up.

"Kindest thing, really," Snape murmured, putting away his wand. "Wish *I* could just forget all about them…ah me…" he wandered off into the crowd.

"There's Dumbledore!" Ron hissed suddenly, pointing. "And…Malfoy!?"

The headmaster was indeed in conversation with Draco and Lucius Malfoy. Draco's mother Narcissa was with them too, but she seemed not to be very interested in what Dumbledore was saying. She kept glancing around and licking her lips in a disturbingly predatory fashion.

"I'm not going over there while Malfoy's with him." Harry muttered darkly. The group was debating what to do, and had settled on staying close to the seemingly safe Gaius and Trefusis when Livia swept past, leering at them again, with a worried-looking Snape in tow.

"Grandmama, you haven't? Please say you haven't!"

"I am the martriarch of this family, Severus. It is up to me whom I choose to invite."

"But…grandmama, they are…"

"One of the oldest branches of our family." Said Livia firmly. "They will be here very shortly, so I suggest you make the appropriate arrangements."

Snape stalked off, growling to himself.

"Goodness," mused Trefusis. "Now we're going to see some sport."

"What's the matter?" Asked Hermione.

Gaius lowered his voice. "She's invited…the Sackville-Snapes." He whispered.

"The Sackville-Snapes? What's so special about them?"

But before Gaius could answer, a short fanfare sounded. A hush fell on the room. The great doors opened, and in came…Hagrid. He was carrying a large wooden box, more than six feet long and two three feet wide, on his shoulder. As everyone watched in expectant silence, Hagrid brought in a second, slightly smaller box…then a third…a fourth…and finally, a fifth, much smaller box, perhaps four feet in length. He set each down very carefully, then stepped back.

Livia stalked forward, pausing beside the largest box, and proceeded to rap three times on its lid.

"Cousin Vladimere?" She called. "Can you hear me?"

Holding their breath, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville could not help but lean forward for a closer look as slowly, inch by inch, the lid was raised…





A/N Silly, yes? :-) Please review anyway!