Chapter 29: Revelations

"This was a great idea, Harry."

"Yeah, it's been ages since we've had a good party."

"Since the victory celebrations, really."

"It doesn't seem like a year ago, does it?"

Harry grinned at Fred and George. Even war, it seemed, couldn't change the twins save on a purely superficial level. Nobody would ever confuse the two again - George was the twin with two eyes. Fred now had only one, and a ropy scar that stretched from jaw to hairline. "Glad you're enjoying it."

"Definitely." George winked at Katie Bell, who was on the other side of what had once been the Black ballroom. It was the first room Harry, Ron and Hermione had cleared out, and it was now crowded with people. Almost all of them had fought in the war, but Madam Pomfrey was a welcome addition, as were the surviving members of the team of Healers who had risked life and limb to transport the wounded out of the battle zone and get them to St Mungo's. Oliver Wood had brought his rather awestruck boyfriend, and Viktor Krum had stopped by briefly, with his cherubic blonde wife, to fill Harry in on the work being done to eradicate Voldemort's influence in Europe.

"Could've been just a little more choosy about the guests, though." Fred glanced with some distaste towards the part of the ballroom actually being used as a dance-floor, where Draco Malfoy was dancing with Ginny. "Would you mind if we blasted his other arm off?"

"You promised you wouldn't make any trouble," Harry said, rolling his eyes. Malfoy was... well, they'd managed a state of truce after the confrontation with Remus, and he really seemed fond of Hermione. So Harry hadn't complained much when she'd invited him. "Anyway, he's only dancing with Ginny because Hermione asked him to. I can't dance for shite, myself, and Ginny likes it."

"I don't approve. And as for the other one..." Fred glared at Snape, who was engaged in conversation with Arthur Weasley. Snape looked much less tense than usual, and Arthur (he'd ordered Harry to call him that, but it wasn't easy) looked thrilled. If the hand gestures were anything to go by, Snape was indulging the older man with a discussion of his latest obsession - muggle submarines. "Why's he here?"

"Hermione invited him. They're working on some project together." Harry shrugged. "Something about the under-utilised properties of rose-root. I have no idea what that means - my eyes glaze over every time she talks about it."

"She's not said yet whether she'll come and work for us. I wondered what the hold-up was." George frowned. "He's probably told her not to. Interfering git."

"Him and the blond one. Never did trust them." Fred scowled, his scar jumping slightly.

It was a strange sensation, but suddenly Harry felt older than the twins. He didn't think he'd ever like Snape, and Malfoy was still a royal pain in the bum sometimes, but they'd made sacrifices during the war that made Harry shudder to think of and it seemed petty and childish to keep mistrusting them now. "You don't have to talk to them if you don't want to," he said, and blinked to hear Hermione's voice coming out of his mouth. "Go chat up a few girls, if you're bored."

"Will do, Harry mate." George was grinning evilly. "First off, though, I think we should get our friend Draco a drink."

"Yeah." Fred grinned too. "He looks parched."

They both turned towards the punch-bowl, and Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, both of you. That's enough." Now he was chanelling Mrs Weasley. This maturity thing was obviously serious. "What are you planning to slip him?"

"Little something we've been working on." Fred displayed a small bottle, smirking. "Doesn't have an official name yet, but we've been calling it the Anti-Censor Solution."

"The what?"

"It lowers the inhibitions," George explained. "Like alcohol, but without nearly as many side-effects. Lets out your inner... whatever." He grinned at his brother. "Fred has an inner exhibitionist. First time we tested it, he ran the length of Diagon Alley starkers."

Fred chuckled. "And I wish I remembered it. The early batches made the tester forget all about whatever had happened while they were under the influence. We thought it'd be funnier, though, if they could remember later. So George remembers every happy detail of what happened when he asked Parvati and Padma Patil if they'd be interested in a threesome."

George rubbed his jaw, grimacing. "They look so dainty. You wouldn't think they could throw a punch like that."

Harry felt something cold uncurl in his stomach. "So... a potion that you can slip into a drink, that makes whoever drinks it lose all control for... how long?"

"Few hours at most." Fred shrugged. "Don't worry, it's not dangerous - doesn't impair the judgement so badly that they hurt themselves trying to fly or anything."

Harry nodded slowly. "Muggles have things a lot like this." Hermione and Lupin had been chatting not far away. Hermione looked up to meet his eyes, and he saw her pale slightly when she saw his expression. She grabbed Lupin's arm and started tugging him towards the potential conflagration. "Know what they're called?"

"Damn. Nothing new under the sun, I suppose." George sighed as Hermione and Lupin appeared on his left.

"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione asked, small hand curling soothingly over his forearm.

"I thought I took that away from you." Lupin reached for the bottle, scowling.

"Ah-ah, Lupin," Fred said, pulling the bottle away hastily. "We made more. And Muggles have something just like it. What's it called, Harry?"

Harry felt his face twist in disgust. "A date-rape drug," he said, loudly enough that several conversations near him stopped suddenly. "A little helpful something to make sure that they just can't say no." His wand was in his hand, although he didn't remember drawing it, and he pointed at Fred. "Who have you given it to?"

Fred's remaining eye had widened, and George stepped in hastily. "Look, Harry, we'd never use it for that. It's just a bit of a joke, you know, like spiking someone's drink."

Hermione was looking at the twins as if they were something that had crawled out from under a rock. "And you think that's funny, do you?"

Fred and George looked at each other uneasily. "Well..." Fred said slowly. "Depends on how you use it, I suppose. We've not sold it or anything, we're not licensed for mind-altering substances."

"Who have you given it to?" Harry repeated, his fingers tightening on his wand. "Tell me!"

"Nobody here, I swear. We've mostly only tested it on ourselves." George held up a placating hand.

"Mostly?"

"Well, Lee tried it a couple of times. It was hilarious, he -"

"They had some at the victory celebration," Lupin said, frowning. "I confiscated it, though, and they said they hadn't used it yet."

Harry saw George's eyes flick away, and scowled. "They were lying. You were lying, weren't you?"

The confrontation was starting to draw attention. Ron ambled over, with Martin propped against his shoulder. "What's up, Harry?" Behind the twins, Snape had followed Arthur Weasley into hearing range, and Molly was hurrying over as well.

"Who did you give it to?" Harry shook off Hermione's restraining hand and took a threatening step forward. Fred and George had never been inclined to think through the repercussions of their pranks. Whoever it was might not even know what had happened. "Tell me!"

"Nobody, Harry, honest." Fred gave him what might have been an innocent look without the scar.

"He's lying," Ron said quietly. "He always is when he does that look. What'd he give to who?"

"That's what I want to find out." Harry's eyes narrowed. "And I'm going to, one way or another."

George let out an exasperated noise. "All right, all right. We slipped a bit to Snape at the victory celebrations. A quick streak would have livened things up."

George clearly had no idea that Snape was standing behind him, livid with fury. Harry was more concerned with the sudden convulsive clutch at his arm, though. Looking down at Hermione, he saw the colour draining out of her face until he thought she would faint. Just for a moment, she glanced over at Ron with a terrified expression.

No. Not Ron.

Martin.

Harry's head jerked up and his eyes and Ron's met in a moment of shared realization. Hermione was already drawing in a shaky breath and straightening up, but the damage had been done. Harry glanced around. Nobody else seemed to have made the connection yet - they'd missed Hermione's panic thanks to the distraction of George leaping a foot in the air when Snape's hand clamped down onto his shoulder and Snape's voice hissed in his ear. "A streak of what, Weasley?"

"A streak of cold fish, apparently. We watched you for ages, but you didn't do anything interesting." Fred looked just as nervous as George, but he spoke up in defence of his twin. "Except for walking in on me with Lucinda Abbot, and you just made a crack about my...uh... freckled backside and walked out again."

"You slipped him a bit of what?" Arthur asked, eyes narrowed. "Possession of mind-altering potions is serious, Fred, George, you know that."

"It was just a joke! It's not like he did anything." George looked around for help. "And it's perfectly safe, really, you could even give it to Mart-" He froze, arm half outstretched towards the baby, as the tip of Snape's wand pressed into the soft skin just under his eye.

"George Weasley." Snape's voice burned, and Harry shuddered. He'd thought Snape hated him, but it was nothing to the venom directed at George. "If you so much as touch my son I swear to God I will kill you, do you understand me?"

There was a moment of total, frozen silence. Then it was broken by a choked whimper from Hermione, who snatched her baby from Ron's arms and clung to him. Ron and Harry moved automatically to flank Hermione. Whatever had happened, and no matter who was to blame, anyone who hurt their Hermione would have them to deal with.

Fred and George were staring at Martin with identical expressions of horror, their freckles standing out like blood in snow as they went chalky white. "Oh, bloody hell..." Fred whispered.

"What have you done?" Mrs Weasley raised a trembling hand to her mouth. "What did you give to him?"

"A nasty little potion of their own invention. They call it the Anti-Censor Solution." Harry's voice was cold, and he exchanged a curiously understanding glance with Snape, whose firey rage matched Harry's icy fury. "It removes the inhibitions."

"The use of an unauthorized, home-made mind-altering potion on an unwitting victim is, for the record, a class V crime," Lupin said quietly. He sounded calm, but the disgust was clear on his face as he looked at the twins. "Snape, shall I summon Tonks and Kingsley? I'm sure you'd like to press charges."

"I'd like to eviscerate them," Snape said, but he glanced at Hermione and Martin and his face softened just a little. "But no. Hermione has suffered enough, thanks to these two pieces of vermin. I won't drag her through a courtroom as well."

"Suffered because of us?" There was an ugly expression on George's face, and now his wand was drawn as well. "What did you do to Hermione while your self-control was impaired?" Harry heard Ron draw in a shocked gasp at that notion, and Mrs Weasley's eyes filled with tears. Lupin uttered a very quiet growl.

"Stop it." Hermione's voice was thin and a little choked, but steady as she stepped out from between Harry and Ron. "He didn't hurt me."

"But..." Fred pointed at Martin. "He said Martin was his!"

"He is." Hermione swallowed hard. "And it's your fault. If you hadn't given him that potion, he would never have..." What Harry could see of her face was flaming red, but she continued. "He would never have a-accepted my... advances. I took advantage of him, Fred, not the other way around." In her arms, Martin started to whimper.

Snape slipped his wand back into his sleeve, turning his back pointedly on George. "You are far too inclined to blame yourself for things that are not of your own doing," he said to Hermione, and Harry blinked. He never would have thought Snape's voice could sound so... soft. "And to attempt to take responsibility for the actions of others. Having my inhibitions lowered would have made me more inclined to do precisely what I wished to do, not less."

Hermione's lip trembled. "I'm still sorry," she whispered, and Harry looked away. The moment somehow seemed very private. "For getting you into all this. For taking advantage. For... everything, really."

"Don't be." Harry glanced back, to see long fingers cup Hermione's shoulders lightly. Standing a foot apart, they were more embarrassing to look at than Ron and Lavender in full clinch. "As angry as I was at you at first and as much as I'd like to hex them both into quivering blobs of jelly for their part in this, I would not willingly give you or Martin up."

Hermione's smile looked like the sun coming up, and Snape returned it with an almost shy smile of his own. "Thank you," she whispered, and then she sniffed and wiped her eyes on the end of her sleeve. "Would you take him for a minute?"

"Of course." Snape looked a little nervous when handling Martin, but the baby went to him quite willingly.

"Thank you." Hermione turned and advanced on Fred and George, who flinched.

"Now, Hermione," Fred said, placatingly... then he howled, his knees buckling, as Hermione rammed a slender knee into his groin with what looked like excruciating force. A moment later, George had joined him on the floor, helped along by his youngest brother's much brawnier knee.

"You've only got two," Ron explained when Hermione gave him a startled look. "And you needed one to stand on. And I'm always willing to lend you a hand... or anything else you might need." He looked down at his whimpering brothers with a revolted expression. "I knew they were careless, but I didn't think they'd do something like this."

"Neither did I." Arthur looked queasy. "They've always been a bit... a bit thoughtless, but..."

Molly didn't say anything for a moment. Then she walked over to her groaning sons and prodded them sharply with her toe. "Up. Now."

Nobody had ever heard that tone in her voice before. Fred and George staggered to their feet, looking really frightened now. "Mum, we -" George started.

"I don't want to hear it." The awful cold disdain, that would have suited Lucius Malfoy, sounded strange and frightening coming from Molly Weasley. "You have one hour to clear out your room. Anything belonging to you that is still in the house when I get back to it will be destroyed. After you've collected your possessions, you will leave the Burrow and you will never return, do you understand me?"

Angry as he was, Harry couldn't help a tug of pity at the stunned grief on Fred and George's faces. "Mum..." Fred whispered pleadingly.

Molly turned her back on them, although her own eyes were full of tears. "There's no place for you in our family," she said grimly. "Not after this."

"Dad?" George said in a quiet, disbelieving voice.

Arthur Weasley took off his glasses with a trembling hand, and wiped his own eyes on his sleeve. "You heard your mother," he said, and Harry had never known someone could sound so sad and so remorseless at the same time. "You have an hour."

Both twins looked at Ron, appealing to the last member of their family present. Ron looked pointedly at Hermione, then back at them. "I wouldn't have given you an hour," he said flatly. "Now get out."

The twins looked around helplessly and then walked away, ignoring the shocked gasps and murmurs from the crowd that had gathered around them. Molly gulped, fishing a handkerchief out of her pocket and blowing her nose. "Hermione, dear, I am so sorry," she said, her voice wobbling. "If there's anything we can do..."

Harry expected Hermione to comfort the motherly woman the way she'd always comforted them, but instead Hermione nodded slowly. "There is something..."

"Whatever you ask. That our sons should have done something like this to both of you..." Arthur had aged ten years in as many minutes, and Harry was glad to see that Ron had reached over to pat his dad on the shoulder with awkward affection.

Hermione drew herself up, and an expression spread across her face that Harry knew very well. That was Hermione's laying-down-the-law look. "You - and I mean all of you, including Bill and Charlie and Ginny - can go to Percy and apologise to him for not taking his doubts about Professor Dumbledore seriously, or valuing his achievements on their own merits instead of comparing him to Charlie or Bill all the time," Hermione said sternly, glaring at all three of the Weasleys present. "None of you have ever liked him much... except you, Molly... and you've never even tried to hide it. He feels it badly, and he won't speak to any of you again until he believes that you really want him to come back." She sniffed. "He came all the way to Hogsmeade just to see me when he found out I was going to have a baby, so he could be sure I was all right. And he and Penny sent a present when Martin was born."

Ron grinned suddenly. "I wondered who sent you that hideous silver picture frame with the cross-eyed bear on it."

"It is not hideous." Hermione smiled at him just a little. "I thought it was very sweet of them. They're getting married in September."

Mrs Weasley's lip quivered. "Percy's getting married?"

"Yes. And... well, I think he'd like to make up with all of you," Hermione said, her voice softening. "But it will have to come from you - all of you. He's too certain that he's not wanted to bother trying again until then."

Ron hung his head, looking guilty. "We will, Hermione."

"Good." Hermione sighed, and looked up at Snape with an appealing expression that could reduce anyone even the slightest bit fond of her to jelly. "I suppose we should find Minerva and let her know about the scandal that's about to explode all over the school. I don't know what she's going to say."

"'It's about time', probably." Snape showed no outer signs of jelling, but his voice was positively warm. "She's known for a while now."

Hermione blinked. "She has? How?"

Snape mumbled something, looking horribly embarrassed. When Hermione prompted him, he repeated it slightly louder. "She saw me sneaking into the hospital wing after Martin was born."

"Oh." Hermione bit her lip. "She wasn't... angry?"

"I rather got the impression that she thought it was a very good idea." Snape looked around at the small group, his mouth twisting in a wry smile. "At least someone does, I suppose."

Harry realised they were both looking at him, and sighed. "All right - Hermione, are you absolutely sure about this?"

Hermione gave Snape another of those looks that Harry thought should be kept much more private. "Yes."

"Then I suppose I'm glad you're happy." Harry and Snape shared another understanding sort of look. "Right, Ron?"

"I guess so," Ron said, sounding a bit dubious. "As long as she is happy. If you ever make her sad, we'll hunt you down and hex you while you're sleeping."

"Ronald Weasley!" his mother said, sounding shocked.

"Well, we'd have to, Mum. We can't take him when he's awake." Ron sounded innocently wounded, and both Harry and Hermione snickered.

"Damned right you can't." Snape looked ever so slightly pleased. "If you will excuse us, Hermione and I really should discuss how to handle this, now that it's been made public."

"Just a minute." Harry cleared his throat, and laid one hand on Hermione's shoulder and one on Snape's. "I hope you're both very happy, and I want you to know that I'll support you in any way I can," he said loudly, making sure a good portion of the crowd could hear him. "There," he added quietly. "Best I can do, but the approval of the Boy Who Lived still seems to carry some weight."

"Thank you, Harry." Hermione gave him a quick hug, kissing his cheek lightly.

"Any time. I don't actually have to like him or anything, do I?"

"Not if you don't want to." She smiled fondly at him. "Of course, he doesn't have to like you either."

"Well, no. Wouldn't expect it." Harry was actually quite disturbed by that thought. "You go break the news to McGonagall. Ron, you get Ginny and tell her to stay with your mum and dad, it's been a rough night for them. Then you find that cute reporter from the Prophet... Yomiko, right?"

Ron grinned. "Yeah. She's here somewhere."

"Thought she might be. You go give her a nice, supportive little interview. She likes you, she'll write it however you want." Harry squared his shoulders. "I'll start answering questions while you all nip off. Don't mind me, I'll be fine."

"If I didn't know better, Potter, I'd suspect you of being a leader." Snape's words were disparaging, but there was an approving note in his voice.

"If I didn't know better," Harry said brightly, "I'd suspect you of being sloppily in love. Funny how the eye plays tricks on us, isn't it?"

For the first and only time in his life, Harry Potter had the satisfaction of making Severus Snape blush. It had been worth the wait.

Hermione was shaking by the time they'd escaped the ballroom and taken refuge in the silent, cobwebbed library. "I'm sorry," she said again, trying to smile. It came out weak and wobbly. "For putting you through that."

Severus transfigured a chair into a sort of round, padded bowl- awkwardly, with his wand in his left hand since the right was holding Martin steady - and deposited his son into it with a rather relieved look. "I'm sorry," he said, speaking to the baby much the same way he did to Akilah. "But your mother needs my attention more than you do just now."

Martin made one of the 'yaaa' noises that Hermione thought might be his first attempts to converse; he usually made some sort of noise when someone spoke to him, anyway. "Thank you," Severus said, turning to Hermione. She expected him to tell her she was being silly, although reassurance that he didn't blame her would have been nice. Instead, to her surprise, he gathered her up in his arms and hugged her fiercely.

It was the first time he'd truly embraced her since the night Martin had been conceived. It was tight and awkward and possessive and Hermione melted into it, burrowing her face into his chest and feeling his chin rest on the top of her head. "You have no need to apologise," he said, and she was held so tightly to him that she felt the words as well as hearing them. "And if you want me to I'll go and hex their fingers and toes off."

Fred and George could have been on Jupiter for they mattered to Hermione at that exact moment. She snuggled against him, and his arms shifted, settling into place around her. "I don't care about them," she said, her voice a bit muffled by his robes. "Only you."

They'd seen each other only once in the week since she'd left the school. She'd spent several days with her parents, and of course he couldn't have visited there without awkward explanations, and she'd got back just in time to help the boys to prepare for the party. She'd only managed to see Severus long enough to invite him to the party, and they hadn't been alone together since she'd stormed down to his room at dawn to demand her memory back.

It had been worth waiting for.

"Good." He stroked her hair, still holding her possessively. "I... well, it's all bloody embarrassing, especially since this is the first time since I was in my teens that anyone's successfully slipped me a potion. But it wasn't just the potion, Hermione."

"Really?" Hermione tried not to sound pathetically hopeful.

"Really." He made the small huffing noise that was usually as close as he came to a laugh. "I've never been seduced before. Certainly not by a charming young woman half my age who actually walked away from a group of younger, handsomer men to seek me out."

It wasn't exactly the declaration of undying love that a romance novel would have called for, but for Severus Snape, an admission of vulnerability was surely even harder to make. "I was terrified that you'd laugh in my face," Hermione said, leaning back to look up at him.

He looked nervous and elated, the way Harry had after Cho had kissed him for the first time; as if he couldn't quite believe his luck and didn't know what on earth to do with it now that he had it. "I wouldn't have laughed. Had I been sober, I would have assumed that you were about to - that it was all some sort of joke at my expense."

"It wasn't." Hermione slid her arms around his neck and tugged him down so she could kiss him on the cheek. That was how she had begun the first time, and it had worked well then... "I would never do something like that, to you or anyone else."

"I know." He unwrapped an arm from around her waist to touch her face, making her shiver when he brushed his thumb lightly over her lips. "And you still... care?"

"More now than I did then," she said, leaning into the caress. "I know you better now."

"I think you must have been dropped on your head as a child." And with those unromantic words, he lowered his head and kissed her. Tentatively at first, as they worked out which way to tilt and found an angle where his nose didn't get in the way, and then with slow, searching passion, until Hermione's knees threatened to buckle and she clutched at him for support.

When they finally came up for air, Hermione took one look at him and chuckled in delight. "You look so smug," she said fondly, rising on tiptoe to give him one more brief kiss. "I was going to tell you how wonderful that was, but I don't think I will now. It wouldn't be good for you."

He smirked, the nervous uncertainty apparently a fading memory. "Your knees going was something of a clue," he agreed, tucking her in under his chin again. "Well. I'm glad we got that cleared up."

"So am I." Hermione sighed. "So... what now? Everyone knows, or soon will. We're going to have to go see my parents tonight."

He tensed. "Tonight? Now? Why?"

"Because they get the Daily Prophet. Do you want Ron's little interview to be the first they hear about this?" Hermione shuddered at the mere thought. This was going to be awkward enough without giving her mother a chance to work up a good head of steam beforehand.

"No, I suppose not." Severus was scowling - she could tell it from his voice even though she couldn't see his face. "This is going to be a delightful evening. I'm sure they'll be thrilled that their only daughter has thrown herself away on a man twice her age with neither wealth, charm, nor physical appearance to recommend him, who allowed her to have his child alone and unsupported."

"Mum's going to have a fit," Hermione agreed, wincing. "She's been saving up invective for the shiftless lout responsible ever since she found out I was pregnant and wouldn't tell her who the father was."

"I should certainly hope so. Any good mother would." He was still tense, but he sighed and managed a lopsided smile. "Still. At least Potter isn't going to be trying to murder me in my sleep, which is greater luck than I had hoped for. I would have expected him to be horrified."

"He would have been, a year ago. Or six months ago, even." Hermione rubbed her cheek against worn black wool, listening to his heart beating. "Since you two had that talk in the hospital wing he's been a bit thoughtful about you. You should probably take this as an apology for him misjudging you in the past. Harry doesn't really do apologies - he just does something to show that there's no hard feelings."

"I will take it and be glad of it, if he continues to support our... relationship." Severus looked away, seeming a little embarrassed. "Speaking of which... I had intended to - to woo you properly first, or at least attempt to. To demonstrate that my intentions were honourable. Since we must confront your parents immediately, it might be best if we put this on a more official footing, so to speak." He trailed off, looking everywhere but at her as he went rather red.

Hermione blinked. "That sounded almost like an implied proposal," she said carefully.

"It was. Er." Severus was now addressing a loose thread on the shoulder of her robes, fiddling with it aimlessly. "Of course, if you would prefer not to, I would quite understand. You are very young, and it is a great commitment to make. I only thought -"

"I'd love to." Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and compromised by sniffling as she smiled up at him. "But you have to ask properly."

He frowned, lifting his eyes to hers for a long, searching moment. "Are you certain? You wouldn't rather wait and see how things go for a while first?"

"We already did that." Hermione smiled, cupping his anxious face between her hands. She'd never seen him so worried and vulnerable before. "All those chess-games, remember? Tea and conversation and bickering over my research."

"That isn't quite the same. I am not generally considered a pleasant companion, Hermione, and -"

Hermione tugged him down and kissed him until he stopped trying to talk and was clutching her to him again. Drawing back, she smiled rather smugly herself to see the dazed look in his eyes. "I love you," she said quietly. "I've loved you for a long time. I carried Martin to term because he was your son, and if I could have nothing else of you I would have him. But I'd rather have you as well."

"Oh." He cupped her cheek lightly, and she could feel his hand trembling. "I... love you too. Very much. And I think I should get you to a church as quickly as possible before you come to your senses."

"I assure you, I am in full possession of all my senses." Hermione rubbed her cheek against his palm. "Although if you'd like me not to be, you could kiss me again. That was working quite well earlier."

Hermione honestly had no idea whether it was five or ten or twenty minutes later that she heard a throat being cleared somewhere behind her. "Mr Weasley told me that the two of you were looking for me," said the voice belonging to the throat, sounding rather amused. "But not terribly hard, I see."

Hermione squeaked, and would have jumped back if Severus hadn't been holding her so securely. "Professor McGonagall! I... er... we..."

"Seem to have handled this rather well, overall." Minerva looked rather amused. "I appreciate your decision to maintain strict propriety while you were at the school. Now that you're no longer student and teacher, however, I'm glad to see the two of you getting on with things."

"You are?" Hermione knew she was absolutely brilliant red. She'd never been so embarrassed, not even the time Bill had walked in on her and Ron doing something a lot more serious than just kissing.

"Of course. I was quite worried that the two of you were going to spend months or years moping about how the other couldn't possibly care for you as you care for them, indulging in general star-crossed-lovers behaviour, etcetera and so on." Minerva shook her head. "A week is quite long enough, to my mind, especially since that child isn't getting any younger." She gave the now-dozing Martin an approving look, albeit from a safe distance. "Best to give your parents time to get used to the idea and get the formalities sorted out before he's old enough to understand what they're calling his father."

Severus snorted, and Hermione grinned weakly. "Yeah. We were going to see them next. But we thought we should talk to you about it, given the inevitable publicity."

"The thought is appreciated, my dear." Minerva nodded. "Don't worry - I've had weeks to polish my speech. I plan to be acerbic, abrupt, and to subtly imply that I think anyone who actually thinks it's any of their business is a complete idiot."

Hermione snickered - Minerva looked so pleased with herself - and Severus smiled, finally releasing his possessive grip. "Thank you, Minerva."

"You're welcome." Minerva frowned. "Of course, replacing you is going to be a bloody pain in the arse. Any idiot can teach Defence - and I'm going to have to replace Lupin, the pining for Tonks is getting on my nerves - but finding an adequate Potions Master as well is going to be much more difficult."

Hermione's warm fuzzy feelings abruptly curdled into a cold lump in the pit of her stomach. "What do you mean, replace him?"

"She means that I will no longer be teaching at Hogwarts." Severus quirked an eyebrow. "Obviously."

"But why -"

"Because of the baby, Hermione." Minerva gave Severus a rather fond look. "He didn't say so in so many words, of course, but he tendered his resignation a week ago, which I admit I found to be a promising sign"

"You never said a word!" Hermione turned to stare at Severus.

He cleared his throat, looking a bit embarrassed. "I had more important things to tell you first. As to my successor, Minerva, I interviewed candidates on Thursday. I selected one and had intended to inform you as soon as I had discussed... matters... with Hermione. I certainly didn't intend to leave it in your hands - you have no idea what to look for."

Minerva smirked, not seeming at all put out by his high-handedness. "A Slytherin, for preference. I'd rather not put poor Hooch in charge of the devious little monsters. She never really mastered deviousness and cunning and without you, she's the only former Slytherin left on staff."

"Fortunately, I have managed to find someone who will fill both positions adequately. Lucas Bulstrode has agreed to take on the positions of both Potions Master and Head of Slytherin - subject to your approval, of course."

"So good of you to consult me," the Headmistress said dryly. "I remember Lucas... Millicent's uncle, if I recall correctly. Looks like an intelligent ox."

"That's the one. He'll keep the devious little monsters in line easily enough, and he's a careful, reliable teacher. Not particularly creative, but he won't need to be." Severus shrugged. "He doesn't talk much, but you'll get used to that."

"It will certainly be a change." Minerva smiled. "I'll send him an owl in the morning. Any suggestions for Defence?"

"Not Hagrid."

"Besides that?"

"Someone who managed to avoid the war." Both teachers looked at her, and Hermione blushed a little. "Someone who won't take sides. It's hard enough being in Slytherin just now, without having a new teacher brought in who's got a nice fresh set of biases all ready."

"A good point." Minerva frowned thoughtfully while Hermione basked in the startled approval on Severus's face. "I'll give that some thought. Meanwhile, you two have some angry parents to placate."

Severus paled noticeably. "I suppose we do. Minerva, you've met Mr and Mrs Granger. Do you have any advice on how I should approach them?"

Minerva gave it what appeared to be a moment of serious thought. "With all your affairs in order."