A/N: Hello again (at last). Yes, I have finally uploaded something new. I am a bad, bad author, and certainly don't deserve the encouragement and loyalty all you wonderful people have shown in the last while, waiting for me to get off my ass and do another chapter (if it's any consolation, I've been distracted by scenes later in the story- yes. *those* scenes- and have been pattering about with them instead of what I should have been doing).

Hopefully you will like this chapter- it doesn't have that much Sev/Herm interaction, but it does have some Evil Witch Plotting which I rather had fun with, and future chapters will have Sev/Herm haggling galore, as well as some more Ailie action. It's not hugely long, sorry, which you more than deserve after such a long wait, but it's not horrendously short (4000 words, guys!). I promise, I will do some more stuff *soon*.

BTW a lot of people I know have been having their files removed from ff.net with no warning, apparently because someone made a complaint about their rating. If someone has a problem with the rating on this, could you please let me know before you alert da fuzz, as they seem to remove things with no warning, and give no chance for the Lowly Author to redeem themselves, and I like writing this and thinking that you guys read it and sort of enjoy it in some perverted way, and if they remove it without warning I won't have the chance to subject you to further ridiculously unpunctuated sentences like this one.

Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with it, okay? Nothing. Centrelink just cut off my austudy payment and I've just moved into a flat on my own and am living on rice and noodles. Leave me alone, Warner Bros.!



Chapter Twenty-One



The monthly staff meeting took place in the staff room, as usual. Hermione watched as one by one, the staff straggled in; Flitwick first, making a beeline for the snacks, Hooch and McGonagall, deep in conversation and heading for the most comfortable chairs, Hagrid ambling in when the room was almost full (his size guaranteed him a seat, anyway, as no-one would want to risk being sat on), and Poppy Pomfrey, bustling in last, guaranteed to leave before it was over to return to her charges. Oh, and of course Snape, who seemed to appear suddenly, already seated. Hermione was certain that he chose the high-backed wing chair just so he could surprise everyone; she had a secret theory that he arrived first and hid there until the time was ripe to appear.

After their last argument, Hermione had had a stern talk with herself. Snape had always been a git, and would continue to be so probably for the remainder of his life. Fighting with him would not change that, and could only lessen her opinion of herself as a person. He might act childish; it was up to her to be adult.

The talk had done her a world of good, although, like many similar resolutions to be a better person than others, it was assured of success about as long as it took for her to talk to Snape again.

Blissfully unaware of this, and perfectly serene, Hermione settled more comfortably into her chair and prepared for the meeting to begin. In her first meeting, she had volunteered to take on the duties of secretary, relieving a very happy Madam Hooch of the note-taking job. It wasn't much, but, having no classes of her own and no real responsibilities, it made Hermione feel as though she had something to contribute to the meetings.

Dumbledore arrived, beaming as usual. Hermione vaguely wondered if there was something in those lemon drops the Headmaster was always nibbling, but waved the thought away as the meeting began.

The responsibilities of secretary were not at all arduous. All Hermione had to do was make a brief note of any issues raised and decisions made, then replicate the parchment and give copies to each of the heads of houses and the headmaster. It was a lot less messy than the ramblings of a dicto-quill, and posed very little inconvenience to an ordered mind. Hermione made a note of the date and of the first proposed issue, brought up by Professor Sprout; students had moved the swinging hershees too near the store cupboard again, and she needed several pairs of hands to get the plants through detox after their binge on fertiliser. Hermione made a note of the teachers who reluctantly volunteered, with particular malice jotting down 'S.S.' when the headmaster volunteered their knowledgable potions master for the late-night shift.

Talk moved on to Madam Hooch's regular plea for new school brooms, which involved Dumbledore quietly listening to the sports teacher's impassioned speeches on the importance of sport to a young mind, and ultimate refusal on terms of budget. This usually took around fifteen minutes, leaving Hermione free to stare at a point exactly midway between the two teachers, a polite expression on her face and a complex arithmancy problem, new spell, or even memorised poem in her mind. Unfortunately, this time the point directly between the two teachers happened to be occupied by a darkly brooding potions master, nestled in his chair in the corner, a fact Hermione only noticed after several minutes of absent staring.

When her eyes finally obeyed the command of her brain and focused on the object of her apparent contemplation, she was disturbed to see his black eyes staring back at her in sedate observation. Her breath caught at a spark of... something in those black depths, drawing her in, inviting her to fall and be lost, but then it was gone. Unwilling to let him see her blush, Hermione glanced around the room and was flustered to note that her stare hadn't gone unnoticed in the corner of Hooch, McGonagall and Sprout, who all shared a knowing look. Her blush deepened when Minerva raised an eyebrow at her, and she looked away again, only to observe the Headmaster looking at her expectantly. Confused, she looked at her notes, which told her nothing, and then back up at her headmaster.

'I'll take that as a modest yes, and I'm certain that Miss Granger will do a wonderful job,' said the old wizard, nodding. He clapped his hands together and rose. 'Well, my friends, as this has been such a short meeting, might I suggest that we share a few drinks before dinner? It will give Miss Granger a chance to register your opinions on decorations and so forth.' The meeting disbanded, each teacher sending their chair back to its original place and making their way to various spots around the room. Hermione busied herself with her notes, making corrections here and there while desperately trying to remember what the Headmaster had been talking about before he called upon her.

Several female figures invaded her peripheral vision, and Hermione was forced to stand to greet Professors McGonagall and Sprout, and Madam Hooch. The three witches looked at her expectantly.

'I don't suppose you could tell me what I've volunteered for, can you?' Hermione asked, exasperation tinting her tone. Hooch waved her hand at her.

'Just decorating for this gods-awful ball Albus is insisting upon. Never mind that- what was that between you and Sevviekins?'

Hermione didn't know it was possible to both blanch and blush, but she was certain her cheeks were an interesting shade at that moment. She glanced, slightly horrified, at Professor Sprout, and Madam Hooch shrugged.

'We keep no secrets from Esmerelda,' said McGonagall, with a smile.

'Besides, you can hardly expect us to keep such a juicy piece of gossip to ourselves,' said Hooch, grinning. Hermione groaned.

Minerva patted Hermione on the shoulder, and Professor Sprout smiled at her. 'Don't worry, they haven't told anyone else. I'm the soul of discretion.'

'So spill,' said Hooch.

'There's nothing to spill,' said Hermione. 'I was staring into space.'

'And he happened to be in it, hmm?' McGonagall gave Hermione an encouraging look. 'We all saw it happen, dear. The two of you were off the planet for about ten minutes.'

Hermione sighed. 'It was nothing. My mind was wandering.' Professor Sprout gave an unladylike snort and Hermione frowned. The three of them were not likely to give up the topic soon, unless diverted. 'Now, what's this about a ball?'

Minerva smiled, moving the group closer to the fire and refreshments which had been set out by the house elves. Hermione gratefully accepted a small glass of red wine.

'In deference to Ailie, Albus has decided to celebrate the summer solstice this year,' the deputy headmistress replied to Hermione's question. 'We'll be holding a ceremony and a ball. And you volunteered to organise it.'

'Or rather Albus volunteered you,' smiled Sprout, sipping her brandy. 'He thought that you would enjoy it. You seemed to agree.'

'The look on her face was one of pleasure, for sure,' giggled Hooch. Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Really, Freya, I would expect more grown up behaviour from you three. I think Ailie's right; you are incurable gossips,' she said.

'You could try cutting out their tongues,' came a comment close by. As one, the four witches turned to see Snape leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, a dry look on his features.

'Don't worry, girls, that's just Severus's way of saying he loves us,' remarked Hooch, tipping her glass in his direction. 'Isn't it, Sevvie?'

Snape graced them with a slight grimace at the alteration of his name. 'Freya, little as you might think of it, my parents spent a rather long time in the choosing of my given name. I would appreciate it if you refrained from butchering it in such a hideous way.'

Hooch grinned at him, ignoring his death glare. Hermione ducked her head, conveniently remembering that she hadn't finished her notes of the meeting, and moved back over to her chair. It was the work of moments to put the final note on them and replicate a copy for each head of house and Dumbledore. Snape had moved away from the fireplace by the time she finished.

'It's okay, Hermione, he's gone now,' said Professor Sprout, accepting a copy of the notes. 'You can stand with us again.'

Against her will, Hermione blushed.

'It's not really Hermione's fault if the great bat is set on intimidating her,' said Hooch.

'He does rather cultivate that image, doesn't he?' Sprout asked, leading a grateful Hermione on to another topic.

'You know, Ron and Harry always thought Snape was a vampire,' Hermione said with a smile. 'I never really had much time for that theory myself, though. I was keen to know whether he puts a spell on those robes of his to make them billow so much.'

The three other women looked at each other and laughed. 'You know, it is funny how he manages to make them do that all the time,' Sprout said, giggling.

'Is it the company or natural inclination that turns apparently grown women such as yourselves into giggling idiots?' Hermione jumped as Snape's silky tones drifted past her left shoulder. She resisted the panic reaction of spinning around, managing to turn slowly and calmly in the direction of the speaker. Her features betrayed her, however, when a telltale blush crept over her cheeks at his raised eyebrow.

'Or perhaps,' Snape continued, his voice dipping even lower, 'it is habit.' A small flare of amusement sparked deep within his eyes, and Hermione blushed harder. Damn him for bringing up the last time he had caught this particular group gossiping, and the rather embarrassing trick he pulled on her.

Gathering her senses, Hermione handed Snape his copy of the meeting notes, which he took with the ghost of a smile. It wasn't a friendly one, either. He turned away and Hermione felt her Gryffindor courage finally kick in.

'Finite incantem,' she said aloud, pointing her wand at the flaring hem of Snape's black robes. He spun around, his expression shocked and angry.

Hermione stared him down, raising an eyebrow of her own. 'Just checking,' she said. Snape opened and shut his mouth a few times, but, obviously failing to think of a biting remark, settled for a death glare before turning to head again for the door.

The others didn't wait for him to leave the room before laughing at Snape's discomfort. Hermione nonchalantly rubbed the tip of her wand against her sleeve, pretending to polish it, which caused her companions to laugh harder.

'Well done, dear,' said Esmerelda, patting her on the back. 'Usually it's only Freya who can tease Severus so well.'

'That certainly was a good one,' agreed Hooch.

'It's rare that I've seen someone point their wand at Severus and not been hexed from it,' said Minerva. 'His reflexes are usually very quick.'

'Understandably,' said Sprout, aside.

'I'll never forget that flustered look on his face,' said Hooch, still laughing. 'Only Hermione could have got away with it.' Hermione thought that the smile Freya gave her had a little too much leer in it for her comfort. She looked pleadingly at Minerva, who elbowed her colleague in the side.

'So what are you planning on doing for the preparations for the ball, Hermione?' asked Sprout, changing subjects.

Hermione shrugged. 'I've no idea. Solstice is several months away, so I should have just enough time to research the proper preparations.'

'I'd just go the streamers and paper hats if I was you,' said Madam Hooch, emptying her glass and placing it on the mantlepiece. 'Less time, and quicker to clean.' With that, the group prepared to leave for dinner.



***



That evening, the shadows had reached their night's depth as a group of witches sat around the fire in Minerva McGonagall's study.

'Young Ailie seems to be settling in quite well,' said Esmerelda Sprout, stretching her stockinged feet toward the flames and twirling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. They had been discussing castle gossip in a casual way, but now a hint of inquisition crept into her tone. 'It's amazing that no-one noticed her inherent magical powers before.' McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey shared a look.

Madam Hooch looked at them sternly. 'Yes, interesting, isn't it, that in a family such as the Grangers, who already have one magical child, such a wonder of nature should be overlooked?'

Both of the witches under her gaze shifted a little uncomfortably in their seats, unwilling to meet the eye of either of their other colleagues.

'Ailie... Ailie does have a certain Pagan heritage, as you know,' began Poppy, uncertainly. 'Perhaps there is some hidden magic in her religious teachings...'

'Of course, this war has already created many refugees, no matter how much Fudge denies it,' continued Sprout, apparently unaware of her companions' discomfort. 'And Albus has always had the policy of protecting those in need.'

'Yes, yes, very well, Esmerelda,' said McGonagall. 'We all know what you and Freya are getting at. And you both know that anyone hiding from danger can only be put in more danger the more people know about it.'

'Of course, Minerva,' said Sprout kindly. 'We know you and Poppy would tell us if you could. You were always so very Gryffindor,' she added, in a low tone.

A silence followed, as the four witches stared into the fire. Gradually, the flames took on the image of two figures dancing. Well, they were certainly doing something.

'Okay, Freya, we all know how clever you are with fire,' said Poppy, hiding a laugh behind feigned disapproval.

'I was just thinking of the way things have changed in the castle lately. You know, with so many young things... things have certainly heated up a bit.'

'Yes, Ailie has certainly done Hermione some good,' said Minerva.

'But how do we get them together?' wondered Poppy. The others glanced at her, and she sighed. 'Not Hermione and Ailie. You know.'

'Severus is a very difficult man,' said Minerva.

'If we don't do something about it soon, those two might well burst into flames at the dinner table,' Hooch said wryly.

'Hermione might not thank us for it, you know,' said Sprout. 'She's very shy.'

'Damned right. She needs help, dealing with someone like Severus,' Hooch said, swigging on her bottle of butterbeer.

'I think what Esmerelda meant was that perhaps Hermione does not want us to do anything at all,' said Minerva quietly.

Poppy gave her a serious look. 'Hermione may not know what she wants. You know she was one of the few seventh year girls who never came to me for a contraceptive potion.' Three pairs of eyebrows raised around the circle.

'Well...' said Sprout, 'it is Hermione. She might have learnt how to make one herself...'

'Not surprising really,' said Freya. 'Bookish type. More interested in words than in reality.' She caught Minerva's look, and had the grace to look abashed. 'Okay, that's not necessarily true. But you have to admit that Hermione wasn't exactly the most... popular girl at school.'

'I had been certain that she and Ron...' said Minerva, but trailed off, deep in thought. 'Well, it does explain the little situation with Sirius she told us about.'

'That does bear thinking about,' said Poppy, her brow creased with concern. 'If what we think is true, it's possible that the "help" Sirius gave her at Christmas was her first good snog.'

The four watched the flames once more, contemplating the thought.

'Ye gods,' said Hooch. 'Do you mean we're dealing with a certified virgin?'

'It is not a disease, Freya,' said McGonagall, with a frown. 'And it's hardly remarkable. Hermione's not yet twenty, remember.'

'I know. She makes you forget that sometimes, doesn't she?' smiled Sprout.

'It's just the girl acts so capably in every other respect,' Hooch said. 'And it's not as though she's the shy and retiring type.' She frowned. 'Well, at least she wasn't in school. I'll admit she wasn't exactly sporty, but she seemed fairly outgoing. An inquisitive girl like her, I would have thought she'd-'

'-done some "research" in the area?' suggested Pomfrey, with a smile. 'Not everyone likes to dive head first into these things, Freya,' she added, ignoring the flying teacher's snort of derision. 'Besides, you can't exactly say she was spoilt for choice.'

'Hmm.' Sprout cocked her head to the side, contemplating as she watched the fire. 'Finnegan was taken during the later years. Thomas bats for the other side. Longbottom- ugh, even a young girl could see the boy needed a mother more than a girlfriend- well it's true,' she said apologetically at Minerva's glare. 'And Harry, well, she couldn't exactly set up with the most famous boy in the wizarding world to date. And I can't see her going for Ron. Hell, with those two boys it would have been practically incest, as close as they were. No, I can see what you mean, Pops.' Smiling, she reached over and clinked her glass with Pomfrey's.

'And boys younger than her would most definitely have been out, if I know Hermione well,' said Minerva, twirling her glass between her fingers. 'Severus really isn't an illogical choice. An older man, intelligent, mysterious-'

'-dark and dangerous-' interrupted Sprout.

'-not unhandsome-'

'-especially in his shorts-' giggled Pomfrey.

'-formerly in a position of authority, now in a position to-' she cut off, to glare at Hooch. 'Get your mind out of the gutter, Freya. I was about to say "now in a position to prove her dominance."'

'Ooh,' sighed Sprout. 'Subjugated to her will. I like the sound of that.' She shared a wicked smile with Poppy.

'I know what you mean,' Poppy said, grinning. 'Satin sheets-'

'More like silken ropes,' said Hooch, with a chuckle. 'Severus would love it.'

'Freya!' said McGonagall. 'You forget we're talking about two of our colleagues!'

'And friends,' reminded Sprout. 'Besides, Severus *would* be the type to enjoy it. And I can certainly see a bit of dominance doing Hermione a bit of good. She seemed happy with the result of her teasing him this evening.'

Poppy chuckled. 'I've never seen Severus so discomfited.'

'They do fight a lot, don't they?' said Minerva. 'Did I tell you about what Albus and I saw?'

'What, the ear thing?' asked Poppy.

'What ear thing?' asked Sprout, leaning forward eagerly.

'You were out in the greenhouses,' explained Pomfrey. 'Basically, he...'

Minerva rolled her eyes as her colleague explained the story. Beside her, Hooch sighed.

'It's so romantic,' she said.

Poppy turned to her sharply. 'What is? Getting bitten on the ear?'

Hooch shrugged. 'It'll do.' She took a swig of her drink and set it down. 'Romantic, sexy, whatever. It's more than I'm getting.'

'So what do we do? To manoeuvre them together, I mean,' asked Sprout.

The other three shrugged.

'I suppose,' said Poppy, after a pause, 'we could do little things, like making them sit together at dinner.'

'Poppy, you might as well suggest we lock them in an attic together,' said Minerva, rolling her eyes. 'It's too obvious.'

'I wouldn't be too sure,' said Sprout. 'I mean, it's not that unusual for people to have to shuffle around occasionally. We'd just need to subtly rearrange things for a while, think up an excuse that sounds plausible.'

'Filibus usually sits next to Severus,' said McGonagall.

'And Hermione usually sits between Ailie and me,' said Hooch. 'All I have to do is arrange for Filibus to sit next to me for a few days.'

'How will you do that?' asked Poppy.

Hooch narrowed her eyes mysteriously. 'I have my ways.'

Minerva chuckled. 'Freya, you dirty bird,' she said.

'And I usually sit the other side of Filibus,' said Sprout. 'So that's easy. I'll just pay a lot of attention to my other side from now on.'

'They'll have to talk to each other,' said Poppy, clapping her hands together with finality.

Minerva sipped her wine thoughtfully. 'That won't be enough, you know,' she said.

The other three paused in their self-congratulation to think some more.

'Hermione will need some help in organising this solstice thing,' said Esmerelda.

'Snape would never agree to that,' said Hooch.

'Unless...' Poppy frowned at the fire. 'What if it involved potions in some way?'

'How?' asked Hooch.

'Some sort of... I don't know,' admitted Pomfrey. 'Maybe some sort of ingredient in the feast that would allow part of the solstice to take place?'

'A transformio potion,' said Minerva, struck by inspiration. 'A potion that would allow the students to be in touch with the movement of the earth and the stones, just like in the old magic. It's brilliant.'

'Well, thank you, Minerva,' said Poppy, wryly.

Minerva waved aside her comment with annoyance. 'You know I didn't mean that, Poppy. I meant that these potions are very difficult, because they have to be tuned to a specific place. Hermione hasn't got the experience to make one by herself- it's knowledge you can't just get from books- but Severus would need her help to make it. How unfortunate,' she added, with a nasty grin, 'that there are no two professors in this school that are similarly skilled in potions.'

'Oh, I don't know, Sinistra is pretty adept-' began Poppy, only to be cut off by Minerva's glare.

'I trust Severus won't be alerted to that opinion, Poppy,' she said. 'This will work. In a working environment, they're bound to get to know each other better.'

'And then bang!' said Hooch, slapping her hands together. 'Sex.' Minerva shot her a look, and she shrugged unapologetically.

Sprout looked at the three with concern. 'You know... this is Severus we're talking about. Do we really want to get Hermione involved with him?'

Minerva sat back in her chair. 'I see what you mean. But...' Her countenance grew serious. 'Severus is, I think, at heart a normal man. What's more, he's intelligent, and he's been hurt enough himself to know what it's like. All in all, he might take better care of her than another man, no matter what his past.'

'Yes, but-' Sprout frowned. 'We all know the consequences of Severus's... other activities. What if something was to happen to him, or worse, to her?'

The other three nodded, but Hooch leant forward. 'This war can't affect everything. It's done so much already- why should we let it stop two people we like being happy together, even if it's only for a while? Besides, maybe having someone like Hermione will convince Severus to give up this stupid suicide mission he's on.'

McGonagall sighed. 'Freya, you know we need Severus to go on doing what he does. It's one of our few leads.' She intercepted Hooch's look, and waved the long-debated subject aside. 'But I agree. We can't let this war change our whole way of living.'

'It's not as though we're talking about making people do things against their inclination,' said Poppy. 'I've a feeling Hermione and Severus may need little of our help, in the end. They can't ignore it much longer.'

'Who cares?' said Hooch, hoisting herself out of her chair with a yawn. 'This castle needs excitement, and at least this involves someone getting laid.' She smiled at the others. 'Even if it's not me.'

Poppy and Sprout also rose, placing their glasses on the mantlepiece. 'We shall put our plan into action tomorrow,' Poppy said.

Minerva gave a ladylike yawn. 'So,' she said. 'When shall we... four meet again?'

Sprout rolled her eyes. 'At breakfast, as usual. You always did have a distasteful sense of the dramatic, Minerva,' she said, as she followed her companions out of the door, leaving a rather sleepy tabby cat curled up by a warm fire.









Stranger than you dreamt it can you even bear to look or dare to think of me this loathesome gargoyle who burns in hell but secretly yearns for heaven secretly secretly but christine fear can turn to love you'll learn to see to find the man behind the monster this repulsive carcass who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty secretly secretly...