Disclaimer: © 2009 Mundungus42. All rights reserved. This work may not be archived, reproduced, or distributed in any format without prior written permission from the author. This is an amateur non-profit work, and is not intended to infringe on copyrights held by JKR or any other lawful holder. Permission may be obtained by e-mailing the author at mundungus42 at yahoo dot com

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time Hermione rose the next morning, the sun was up and she could hear a blackbird warbling somewhere near her window. She rolled out of bed, and for the first time in many years, she was really looking forward to the day. She immediately noticed that the floor was colder than usual and discovered that Molly had chosen to show her disapproval of last night's turn of events by shrinking her fireplace to the size of a narrow broom cupboard. Hermione smirked. She'd heard of people being frozen out before, but never by this method. Fortunately, the day was unseasonably warm and sunny, so the smaller fire kept the room warm enough for her purposes.

The first thing she did was to fish the Sorting Hat out of the half-empty tub. She was pleased to note that the soak had not dissolved the hat completely, and had instead revealed the hat to be a faded red-brown instead of the dirty black she had always known it to be. At its cheerful request, she cast a drying charm on it and set it on the vanity. Though her illusion charm was still in force, she dispelled both the illusion and Molly's Spy Spell from the vanity mirror, just because she could.

After she finished her own morning ablutions, she dismantled the Monitoring Spell that Molly had put on her fireplace and Floo called Ron to celebrate her new status as persona non grata. She found him in his office, fumbling with his cravat in front of the mirror and attempting to dictate a letter to the French Minster of Magic, but he invited her for tea later that afternoon, and she accepted with a smile.

Since it was Sunday and there were no classes, she sent a quick message via Galleon to Neville, asking him to meet her in the Room of Requirement in an hour. That would give her sufficient time to eat breakfast and review her notes and Mag-Spec data from the previous day. She might have burned the bridges between herself and the headmistress socially, but she still planned to make the most of her time at Hogwarts, especially if it meant learning more about how the Room of Requirement worked.

After a breakfast of rubbery sausage, she returned the Galleon to her bag and noticed the box from Coop sitting innocently next to it on the vanity. Neville had been kind enough to give it to her believing that she'd need it more than he would. However, now that the real thing was looking like a definite possibility, Hermione couldn't muster much enthusiasm about quality time with her left hand, even if a sophisticated handheld device was involved.

But wait: there was still one occupant of the castle with fewer prospects than she had, and that was Percy. She fully expected him to be scandalized by the anonymous gift, but she hoped that his curiosity would outweigh his prudish tendencies. She slipped the Sorting Hat into her bag and slid into the nearest opening to the Aperterium, which was in the nearby sculpture gallery, and followed her map to Percy's quarters. Fortunately, he was not in his room, so leaving the package with a tag reading "From a Friend," at the foot of his bed was an easy task.

Feeling quite pleased with herself, she slid out of the secret room into the Charms classroom, which was only a stairway and a hallway from the Room of Requirement. The door appeared and swung open for her solicitously. She thanked it and entered.

Thankfully, the room was restored to a far more neutral configuration than when she had last seen it. The furry white pelt was gone, and there were comfortable chairs in front of the reasonably-sized fire. There was even a three-legged stool, upon which Hermione perched the Sorting Hat.

Belatedly, she realized that her detour to Percy's quarters had distracted her from fetching Severus, and Neville would be there any moment. It wouldn't do Neville any harm to wait, but she had hoped not to draw any undue attention to Severus's entry.

"I'm terribly sorry to ask," she said to the room, "but I'd be most grateful if you could connect the door to Severus Snape's private quarters. He really ought to be present for this meeting, and I rather stupidly forgot to tell him."

Given her abject failure at getting the room to do as she asked, she was delighted that the door appeared in the wall at all, and she was nearly bouncing with glee when she realized that the room had actually connected her to Severus's quarters. He wasn't in bed, thankfully, but she noticed a whiff of steam coming from underneath his door.

"Severus!" she called.

There was a loud splash from the bathroom and a muffled curse. "Am I never to have privacy again?" he complained loudly.

"The hat and I are in the Room of Requirement waiting for Neville. The room has been good enough to cooperate with me this time, so come through your entrance to the Aperterium. It'll bring you here. When you're done, of course."

There was no reply other than a faint bubbling, but Hermione knew he'd heard. Her work was done.
She had just extricated herself from the doorway when the other door opened to admit Neville. He regarded her with a look that was half delight and half exasperation.

"What did you do?" he burst out. "Molly was in a fit state, and breakfast was dreadful! She wouldn't stop glaring at me!"

"Someone broke into her quarters last night. She thought it was me, but I had a convenient man in my bed that I led her to believe was you."

Neville goggled at her. "So who was in your bed last night?"

"A lady never kisses and tells," she said primly. "Besides, we have more important things to discuss. You may remember the Sorting Hat?" she said, gesturing to the stool, where it sat.

"Longbottom!" exclaimed the hat with pleasure. "I told you I was never wrong!"

"Once," said Neville, smiling tightly. "I proved to be a brave leader once. The rest of the time I've been the quivering jellyfish that Professor Snape always said I was."

The hat hadn't much of a mouth, but Hermione could have sworn that it was grinning. "A wizard's life is long," it said cryptically. "Perhaps another opportunity will come along."

Neville laughed. "I sincerely hope there will be no more dark lords in my lifetime!"

As if on cue, Hermione saw the door on the wall behind Neville open to admit Severus, whose hair was still dripping from the bath. He scowled at her, as if he hadn't been nibbling on her nipples a mere ten hours previously, and she smiled back.

"Ah ha," said the hat. "It is time. Won't you have a seat and listen to my tale?"

Hermione couldn't help but feel a frisson of interest to notice that the room had conjured three human-sized chairs and not just two. However, the hat chose that moment to begin to sing.

The founders blessed me with a brain,
And memory as long as time.
My keen discrimination
Is what you might call sublime.


All this you know from student days
From my sweet sorting airs
And while my gifts are vast,
There's one to whom I can't compare.


You see, I'm not the only thing
Made sentient by the four,
Indeed, there's much more to this room
Than changeable décor.


The Come and Go Room it was called
By founders and the elves.
Its purpose was to do a task
They couldn't do themselves.


The room was fashioned to give aid
To headmistress and master.
To be a ready blade to wield
In any near disaster.


Into the room the founding four
Poured all their arcane lore.
From hopes and dreams and minds they built
The ceiling, walls, and floor.


And far beyond these magic walls,
The room exerts control:
The moving stairs and shifting rooms,
And Hogwarts as a whole.


The Come and Go Room was to be
The center of command
From whence one accessed any room,
And stored all contraband.

Hermione stared at the hat, scarcely believing her ears. If the Room of Requirement, or the Come and Go Room as the hat named it, was the work of the founders, it clearly possessed magic heretofore never seen.

And while the four succeeded
In enchanting something great,
There were some aspects that the four
Did not anticipate.


The trouble with bestowing minds
On things like rooms and hats
Is that monotony sets in
And rather drives us bats.

At this point, Hermione had to bite her tongue to keep from asking questions. This was not only the earliest instance of animating the inanimate she'd heard of, it was also the most elaborate. The room and the hat were clearly more than just aware, they had the ability to think independently from their creators.

So when the four were satisfied
Their room could act and think,
They let it sit for far too long,
And so it caused a stink.
At first, the founder's didn't know
Just where the high jinks started
Until Rowena saw the spells
Were recently imparted.


It still took all of ninety days
Before they found the source
Of all the horrid hexes
That students used in force.


It seems the room had opened wide
Its doors for certain youths
And to them had provided books
That held forbidden truths.


For in these books were hidden spells
That Godric wouldn't teach
And Salazar remarked that he
Should practice what he preached.


Then Godric flushed an angry red,
And slandered Slytherin,
With epithets so vulgar
They would pierce the thickest skin.


The rest, they say, is history,
But who would dare assume
That what made Slytherin depart
Was Godric and the room?


And once old Salazar was gone,
The three had to contend
With their creation sans their fourth —
It might have been the end.


However, wily Slytherin
Foresaw this coup d'etat,
And all attempts to close the room
Would earn a battered jaw.


At last, the three gave up and left
The room to rot alone.
Misuse of gifts and magic skills
They never would condone.


The Room continued baiting all
The teachers, heads, and staff,
At first it seemed its raison d'etre
Was just to have a laugh.


But all these years have taught the room
The powers that we wield
Can be a great force for good or ill —
Achilles' heel or shield.


It only took six hundred years
To heed that higher call,
But by that time, the gifted Room
Was quite forgot by all.


And so its goal in recent years
Has been to build up ties
To students and to teachers whom
We feel both kind and wise.


And through the years we saw a lot
Of heads of either sex.
Some were great, and how some got
To be head we're perplexed.


And there were times when Hogwarts heads
By whom we were annoyed,
Yet we would help them if we feared
The school could be destroyed.


Alas, the heads that we admired
Were few and far between.
For characters these recent years
Have surely not been lean.


And now at last the room has made
Its choice for whom to lead
The school from recent troubled times
Of selfishness and greed.


We need a man of bravery
To face old Molly's ire.
We need a man of moral strength
To pull us from her mire.


We need a man with wit and smarts,
Both wise and humble, too.
A nurturer, and also kind:
Neville, that man, is you.


I've known you were special, lad,
Since first I touched your head.
You've always been the sort of man,
Who learned more than was said.


So cast aside your doubt of self
And be not overwhelmed,
For Hogwarts will again be great
With Neville at her helm.

The hat's final note echoed through the empty room, and all fell silent.

Neville sat as if frozen, his eyes wide, gripping the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were white. "You must be joking," he said at last.

"Why do you say that?" asked Hermione. "From what I've seen, you'd be a fantastic headmaster."

"But I don't know enough!"

"That didn't stop Molly," said Hermione, "and unlike Molly, you know enough to ask people with experience for help."

"I'm too young," he said.

"The youngest in three hundred years," said the hat, "and that was Everard Hoggington, one of the most distinguished Headmasters of all time."

"I'm a broom polisher! Wouldn't some parents pull their children out of school?" he asked pleadingly.

The hat laughed. "My dear Longbottom, homosexuality and this high office have been all but mandatory since the founder's time. Or did you never wonder why Helga Hufflepuff never had an heir?"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the forlorn expression on her friend's face. "Neville, the fact that you're so concerned about what sort of headmaster you'd make is a clear sign that you are just the sort of person who should be in charge. If it makes you feel any better, Coop thinks you'll be a wonderful leader."

"But me? Headmaster? Who would teach Herbology?"

"I think you'll find a great number of people who would never work for Molly will be queuing up to work for you," said the hat. "The Come and Go Room and I certainly number among those."

"So that's why you made those horrid predictions right after Molly became headmistress," said Neville, looking accusingly at the hat. "You were trying to get Molly to get rid of you."

"Not exactly," said the hat. "I was hoping she'd see reason, but that was overly optimistic of me. I know this is more work than you signed on for, Longbottom, but we really do believe you should be headmaster. You'd be very difficult to replace, so please consider the school if you plan to refuse."

Neville sniffed, and Hermione was shocked to realize that there were tears in his eyes. "Refuse? How on earth could I refuse? Of course I'll serve as headmaster. But," he said, frowning, "I won't do anything horrid to Molly. She hired me, and while I don't like many of the things she's done as headmistress, I won't see her humiliated."

"Quite decent of you," said the hat. "I wonder if you'd be so decent if you knew how many hopes and dreams she's squashed since becoming headmistress."

"I won't do it if it means ruining her," said Neville. "Take it or leave it."

"That woman doesn't deserve a friend like you," murmured Severus.

The hat made a nodding gesture and repeated Severus's words to Neville, who shrugged. "I didn't deserve friends like Harry and Ron and Hermione, but I'm grateful for them all the same. Out of curiosity, is there anything else I need to do to pledge my allegiance to the school? A vow or anything like that?"

Hermione felt a rumble go through the room that she feared would materialize into yet another Unbreakable Vow or something equally horrid. However, her eyes widened when she realized that the Sorting Hat was laughing, and the room was doing the same.

"Helga bless you, Neville Longbottom," exclaimed the hat. "No vow is required, and you've proved once again how right you are for the job. Farewell, for now. The moment of your ascendance will be clear."

"Do you mean clear to Longbottom or clear to anybody who doesn't have feathers for brains?" asked Severus, unable to help himself.

All who heard his remark chose to ignore him.

Neville raised his chin and nodded. "I will do everything I can to maintain a good relationship with you and the room."

"We know you will, Longbottom," said the hat. "Now go make ready."

Neville did as he was bid and left the room with his head held high.

"Now that had all the trappings of ceremony," remarked Severus. "Was that all you wanted me here to see?"

"Yes," said Hermione, "though I wonder if you're taking from it what I expect."

"That Hogwarts is doomed?"

"From your perspective, perhaps. But surely you'll agree that Neville as headmaster will have no need of the Aperterium, given his relationship with the Room of Requirement. Sorry, Come and Go Room."

"Still on about that, are you?" he said with a sigh.

"Yes," she said, "but I promise not to push you on it until you're free of the vow. Magnanimous of me, I know."

"You're insufferable when you get your way."

"Don't denigrate me so. You know I'm insufferable at all times."

"You make it very difficult not to kiss you, even if just to get you to shut your infernal mouth."

"You're a terrible tease. It was your idea to cool our ardor until we're both unencumbered by Molly, you know."

"Yes, and I was quite right to do so. It should give me ample opportunity to say goodbye to my freedom, my privacy, and any shred of sanity that survived my indentured servitude."

Hermione made her way to the outside door. "I'll let Mr. De Mille know that you're ready for your close-up."

"Shut up, Granger," he said, eyes frowning but lips curving up into what was nearly a smile.

Hermione blew him a kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As Hermione went through her day locating hidden rooms along the stairway that led to the owlery, including the rather horrid room that was filled with the owls' dinner mice, she couldn't resist humming tunelessly to herself. She found herself counting the hours until she would have the opportunity to report her progress to Ron. Soon, she would be free of Molly and the school's ancient glory would be restored. However, two thoughts were keeping her from floating away. First, she still hadn't been able to free Severus from his vow, and she knew that an ignominious departure would do nothing to sweeten Molly's attitude towards Severus. She could simply leave him there in indefinite service to the school.

The other less-than-delightful prospect was that of returning to her old job at the Ministry. Even if she got the funding she needed, much of her research time would be wasted breaking up squabbles between the resident geniuses and explaining to Mr. Peabody, their resident Chronomage, that though he was a master of time, and time and space were one, there were still certain spaces, like the women's toilet, where he was not allowed. There were always interns to intimidate and upstarts to ridicule — lord, now she was beginning to sound like Severus. But it all boiled down to the same thing: in spite of Molly, the work she was doing at Hogwarts was the sort of thing she'd like to continue doing.

Still, she missed her weekly teas with Ron, so when the clock chimed quarter to three, Hermione was more than happy to leave her work. Who knew? Perhaps he might have inside information on where Molly could have hidden Severus's contract.

When Hermione arrived in Ron's office, she was amazed at how simultaneously foreign and familiar it felt, having not visited since late December. Everything looked the same, from the portraits of former Minister down to the Chudley orange carpet Ron had installed on the first day of his term. But the room felt different somehow. Perhaps it was simply because their weekly teas had been cut short by his mother's draconian scheduling.

Ron was out, but sitting on his desk were the tea things and a beautiful plate of biscuits that looked as if they had been created by the Department of Mysteries' pastry chef. Hermione's favorite cream-filled ones were given a place of prominence, and she couldn't help stealing one.

"You haven't started in on the cream biscuits, have you?" said Ron, who had entered the room so quietly that Hermione jumped.

"When did you get so stealthy?" she asked, wiping a spot of cream from her nose. "You could have given me a heart attack."

Ron gestured to the lumpy but warm-looking knitted slippers he was wearing. "Well, I'm not going to wear wingtips on a Sunday, am I?"

"No, I suppose not, especially when nobody can see your feet when you make Floo Calls. What's going on that you had to actually do work during the weekend?"

"Just the usual housekeeping. Nothing of particular interest," grumbled Ron, pouring them both cups of tea. "That and it's Horned Helisper season, and Luna's fumigating the place.'

"Milk, no sugar.'

"Honestly, woman, we've had tea hundreds of times. You think I'd just forget how you take your tea?"

"One can never be too careful with tea," she said, accepting the steaming cup with a smile.

They exchanged pleasantries and asked after one another's families, and Ron regaled her with Harry's latest exploits in parenting and brushes with paparazzi. Before she knew it, she was laughing so hard she had tears running down her cheeks. She took another cream biscuit and sat back, smiling fondly at her friend.

Ron followed suit, also choosing a cream biscuit. "So, what's new at Hogwarts, then?"

"Not much. I figured out how to break the Fidelius Charm, and I founded a conspiracy devoted to removing your mother from the headmistress's office and installing Neville Longbottom, which we're well on our way towards doing."

Ron didn't spit out his tea, but it was a close thing. "That didn't take you long," he said with a slight cough. "Anything else of note?"

"Sort of. Mostly gossip."

"I heard the one about you and Filch," said Ron with a grin. "They say you showed him a new use for the shackles in his office."

Hermione tutted in disapproval. "It's not as if I'm the first person who has dated out of convenience."

Ron gave her a shrewd look. "There's a lot more that you aren't telling me."

"Naturally," said Hermione, "and in this case it's not just 'I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.'"

"What would you call it?"

"I could tell you, but even if it weren't hidden under strong protective magic, you wouldn't believe me anyway."

"Like what?"

"Percy's a poof."

"Tell me something I haven't known since I caught him snogging Penelope Clearwater's older brother."

Hermione felt a pang of sympathy for Penelope Clearwater before deciding to try an experiment on Ron. "The potions teacher at Hogwarts is Severus Snape."

Ron shook his head. "Sorry? I was trying to decide what biscuit to have next."

"Never mind, it's not important," she said, not feeling particularly surprised or disappointed.

"Fine," said Ron with a shrug. "Now, you look like you're fair bursting to tell me something, so you'd better do it."

"I don't think I'll be coming back to the DoM," she said, looking closely at his face.

He surprised her by grinning. "That's fantastic," he said. "See, aren't you glad you didn't get funded last cycle after all? It would be hell trying to justify to the Classification Board why I was letting you license currently funded research for the usual pittance. This way, they won't think it's anything important. You'll have to sign a non-disclosure form when you leave officially, of course, but that's so you don't start manufacturing the damn things. And when you have time to examine the changes to the tax code I sponsored last year, you'll notice that analytical services aren't taxable. Don't say I never did anything for you."

Hermione stared at him open-mouthed for a moment before collecting herself. "You don't seem at all surprised."

"I'm not. Well, that's not true, I am surprised. I just thought it'd take much longer for you to realize that you'd much rather work for yourself and not for what can be justified to the proper committee."

She continued to gape until his words had the opportunity to penetrate her surprise. "You changed the tax code for me?" she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"Yeah," he said casually. "But St. Mungo's and four potions manufacturers have been asking me to make the change for years, so it's not as if I wasn't considering it already."

Ron's self-satisfied smile indicated that he knew he had the upper hand in the conversation. He propped his slippered feet up on the desk with an insouciant air. However, one foot collided with the nameplate on his desk and sent it crashing to the floor, where the glass shattered all over the bit of embroidery inside that read "Ronald Bilius Weasley, Minister of Magic".

Ron swore and came to the far side of the desk. "Think you can fix it? You're loads better with Reparo than I am."

Hermione raised her wand, but paused. She'd seen the strip of embroidered linen adorning Ron's desk, for many years, but she'd never really noticed how exquisitely it was done, with tiny flowers and exotic birds entwined expertly through the letters. Now, as it lay at her friend's lumpy slippered feet, she couldn't help but notice how much it contrasted with the rest of his other belongings and decorations. It also showed much more skill than any of Molly's other handicrafts that she'd seen.

"Ron, did your mum make this for you?"

He snorted. "Who else? She did it not long after she started as headmistress. She laid it on a bit thick, too, about how she feared that this would be the last thing she'd ever have time to make for me, as if she hadn't been Deputy Headmistress for two years already."

And then she knew.

"Ron, would you mind terribly if I cast something other than Reparo on this?"

"As long as I can have it back when you're done. Mum's bad enough if you don't wear her jumpers when you visit. She'd never forgive me if anything happened to it."

Hermione flicked her wand at the bit of embroidered linen. "Finite Incantatem!

It was as if the change happened in slow motion. First, the brightly colored embroidery floss faded into loopy handwriting in faded black ink. Then, the white linen dulled into crumpled parchment. And there it was: Severus's job description.

She picked it up from the broken glass reverently and shook it to remove any lingering shards.

Ron peered over her shoulder, squinting. "What in the name of Dumbledore's socks is that?"

"Exactly what it says: it's a job description for the position of Potion's teacher."

"Say what?" asked Ron. "I can't read it. Is it in Gobbledygook or something?"

Belatedly, Hermione realized that the Fidelius Charm was affecting Ron's ability to read it. Even if destroying the contract released Severus from the Unbreakable Vow, there was still the Fidelius Charm to contend with, though of course that was a lesser issue. "I can't explain right now," she said, "but I really need to take this. Here," she said, repairing the glass nameplate and casting an illusion to make it appear as if the linen was still in the faceplate. "This way, when your mum gets mad, you can claim that I stole the real one when you left the room."

Ron gulped. "Is she going to be mad when she finds out you've taken it?"

Hermione smiled grimly. "You have no idea."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus wasn't in his quarters, the library, or the Room of Requirement, and Hermione was starting to worry that perhaps he'd run afoul of Molly. However, she eventually found him in the Great Hall, eating supper with the students and staff. She was relieved and pleased that he'd taken her advice to hide in the crowd, counting on Molly's inability to say anything to him in the presence of the others.

"I've saved a seat for you, my turtledove!" called Neville, which made a number of the students giggle. When she joined him, her cheeks quite pink, he leaned in close to say softly in her ear, "You'll want to listen — I think Fleur and Ginny are about to throw a couple of kneazles into the owlery."

Hermione tried to catch Severus's eye, but his eyes were focused on his plate, and he was pointedly ignoring everything around him, though she was certain that he was listening. She resigned herself to doing as Neville had suggested. She was pleased to note that Molly's ears had already turned red.

"—not discussing it any further," Ginny was saying. "We all knew that this was going to be temporary. Now that we've managed to endow the Transfiguration chair, you shouldn't have any trouble filling the position, and I certainly don't want to be teaching when the baby arrives."

"Ooh, Ginny, how exciting!" squealed Parvati. "How far along are you?"

"Seventeen weeks," said Ginny "She was a bit of a surprise, but both Harry and I think that it's been far too long since we had a baby in the house."

"Well," said Molly, whose ire was likely lessened at the prospect of having another grandchild to coddle, "It's not the most convenient time, but I suppose we'll have to make do."

"Zat is good to 'ear," said Fleur, "because Bill and I will be returning to France at zee end of zis school year and will not be returning to teach."

"WHAT?" exclaimed Molly loudly. Dozens of heads snapped in her direction, and she made a visible attempt to collect herself. "Is this true, William?"

Bill took his wife's hand. "Yes, Mum, it is. You knew that both of us were willing to help out until the school was back on its feet financially, and it looks like you're well on the way."

"But that's not the point!" exclaimed Molly. "Family is important."

"Yes, it is," said Bill, "and we haven't been able to go on holiday with ours since Fleur started teaching here."

"Of all the selfish — have you any idea how difficult it will be to replace three teachers at once?" hissed Molly.

"Well, three won't be that much easier than four," pointed out Luna. "Which is good, because I've been awarded a grant from the Ukrainian Ministry of Magic to locate their Rusalki and will need to take at least next year off."

Molly gaped at her, torn between fury and shock. "But what about your husband? Your children?"

Luna shrugged. "I'll have an International Portkey, so I can still live with them and be back each evening in time for supper. Ron's been so supportive. He even enrolled in a cooking class."

Molly looked like she was about to explode, and Ginny put a restraining hand on her forearm.

"It's not the end of the world, Mum," said Ginny. "The endowed chairs will be a piece of cake, and with the money that the various fundraisers are bound to bring in, you'll be able to spend more on the new teachers instead of paying them a pittance."

"That's easy enough for you to say, young lady," huffed Molly, rounding on her daughter. "You never had responsibilities like these!"

"That's because I never bullied or bossed my way into getting them," retorted Ginny angrily. "You wanted to be headmistress. It's not our fault you never bothered learning how to do it without depending on all of us. We want to have our own lives, Mum. We don't just want to be living yours."

Molly flushed and began whispering furiously at her daughter, and Hermione tried yet again to get Severus's attention. She managed to catch his eye, but she couldn't figure out a way to slip him the precious document without drawing attention to it. She nodded her head at her beaded bag on the table, but he narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head in confusion.

Frustrated, she pulled the wrinkled parchment from her bag in her and folded it into a paper airplane against her thigh. She then cast Wingardium Leviosa on it and flew it beneath the table to where Severus sat.

He jumped when the point of its nose poked into what she fervently hoped was his leg, and she let out a sigh of relief when his hand emerged with the airplane clutched in his fist. He scowled at her, and she nodded her head, eyebrows raised.

The look of total shock on his face when he unfolded the paper made her heart beat faster. His eyes sought hers, half disbelieving and half hopeful, and her smile sent with it her apology for taking so long to provide him with his freedom.

Hermione nearly jumped when Neville squeezed her hand. His eyes were shining in wonder. "It's working," he whispered. "It's really working."

She gave him a reassuring smile, and Molly's voice burst out again. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you planned all of this just to spite me! I could believe the mess at Christmas was the work of a few troublemakers, but I've heard reports that someone helped students sneak into Hogsmeade, and now this. I believe I'm being deliberately persecuted!"

"Now, really, Molly," exclaimed Arthur, placing a soothing hand on his wife's shoulder.

"I never heard of anything so silly," said Luna with a merry laugh. "I don't know about any of those other things, but I thought it was a good idea to tell you during supper because that way you couldn't yell at me."

This pronouncement was met with murmurs of agreement and more than a few snickers.

Molly rose angrily to her feet. "I will give each of you some time to reconsider this foolishness," she said. "I simply refuse to let four teachers go at once."

"You won't have to," came a silky voice from the end of the table. Hermione, Percy, and Molly glanced at the end of the table where Severus was standing with the piece of paper in his hand. "The number's up to five."

He laid the piece of paper on the table and cast a nonverbal Incendio on it. The document burst into flames, and Hermione could have sworn she saw a flash of red light as it was reduced to ashes.

Severus's hand rose instinctively to his neck, as if he expected the magic of the vow to choke him, and Hermione's stomach fell. Had it worked? Was he free? However, before his fingers touched the skin of his neck, he stayed his hand and let it fall to his side. His eyes were glittering in triumph. "I quit," he said simply, and Vanished the ashy remains of his enforced servitude with a wave of his wand.

Molly's florid face drained of color, and Percy looked as if he might be ill. "Impossible," she whispered weakly.

"Mum? Are you all right?" asked Ginny, who sounded somewhat alarmed at this sudden change. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

But Molly's eyes were no longer on Severus but on Hermione. Hermione belatedly realized that she was still staring at Severus and lowered her eyes to the table in front of her.

"You," said the headmistress, pointing her wand at Hermione. "You're responsible for this."

Hermione was about to deny the accusation, but Severus cleared his throat theatrically.

"You're forgetting something rather important, Weasley," said Severus, his voice soft and dangerous, "If you wish to have anybody teach Potions between now and the end of the academic year, I suggest that you stop looking for people on whom to cast blame for your inevitable fall from grace and start looking for ways to make amends to me. The rumors of my cruelty don't even begin to encompass the revenge I plan to take on you for wasting eight years of my life."

Molly gave an unintelligible gurgle of protest, but Severus held up his hand.

"At this point, you haven't any hope of escaping me, though for the sake of the students, I might be willing to postpone my satisfaction long enough to teach for the rest of the year. Provided, of course, you make it worth my while. First, I demand a lump sum comprising the difference in my salary under your eight-year tenure compared to what it was under Albus, adjusted for inflation, naturally. You will also immediately remove all monitoring charms from my quarters, and instruct all house elves that they are to bring my meals to me in my room. At that point, you may begin salary negotiations when you've had the ability to consult with the Governors about authorizing the exorbitant pay I plan to demand to teach for the rest of the year."

Molly's jaw was working soundlessly up and down.

"Mum?" Ginny was starting to sound worried.

"It's all right, Ginny," said Percy, who had risen from his seat to stand behind his mother. "Mum, come on, let's get to your office. I'll help you write up the jobs advertisements. All you'll need to do is dictate."

The headmistress seemed to deflate then, and she allowed herself to be escorted from the room. Hermione could see her hands shaking. When the door closed after them, the student tables burst into noisy speculation.

"That was interesting," remarked Neville. "Mind telling me what it was all about?"

"You'll see," said Hermione. "Rather sooner than later."

"Well, if you're going to be that way," said Neville with a sigh.

"Granger."

She turned to look at Severus, who was methodically stretching the muscles in his shoulders and neck. "I'm going to go get properly pissed on extremely expensive liquor and sleep through all my classes tomorrow. Care to join me?"

Her eyes lit up.

"I've got to get some work done," she said quietly to Neville. "You should definitely call Coop. He might have some suggestions on where to go from here."

Neville gave her a goofy smile, which he valiantly tried to cover up with a look of professionalism. Hermione understood exactly how he felt. "I suppose I could do that," said Neville with an impressive attempt at nonchalance.

Hermione gave him a kiss on the cheek, which brought another chorus of titters from the students, who were still attempting to make sense of what was going on at the high table. She found herself very much looking forward to finding out what the students would make of it.

Not wishing to arrive at Severus's room empty-handed, she returned to her room for the bottle of champagne that they'd not got around to drinking the night before. She was pleased to note that the temperamental staircases that usually made her wait were instead waiting for her. She smiled, caressed the banister affectionately, and was rewarded with a smooth, quick trip to the appropriate landing.

With bottle and ice bucket in hand, she made her way down to the dungeons, passing students who were giving her suspicious looks, but she didn't care. Severus answered her knock with his usual bad grace, but he ushered her quickly into his study, which was wonderfully cozy from the fire that blazed in the newly-enlarged fireplace. She was amused to note that there was an impressive spread of foodstuffs laid out on the sideboard, complete with golden cutlery and cut crystal stemware. Severus had already begun helping himself.

"I've taken the liberty of removing the headmistress's eavesdropping and monitoring spells," he said. "Help yourself to the first spoils. The cold pheasant is quite adequate."

Before filling her plate, Hermione removed the cork from the bottle of Fleur's wine and poured them both glasses. "I was told to save this for a special occasion," said Hermione. "I suppose I ought to be glad we didn't drink it yesterday, since there's even more to celebrate today than there was yesterday."

He accepted the glass and touched the rim of his glass to hers. "It's been quite some time since I had much to celebrate. I daresay I'm out of practice," he said. "I'm far too old to drink to new beginnings, and I don't have any friends, absent or otherwise, so I suppose the grandest toast I can think of is, here's to pleasant food and company."

"We could drink to freedom," said Hermione.

"I'd rather not. You might recall that my years of freedom have not been particularly sweet."

"In that case, confusion to Molly Weasley, and health to Neville Longbottom."

Severus snorted, but they drank. The wine was crisp and fresh, with a luscious lick of fruit before its dry finish.

Severus was good enough to wait until she had taken a few bites of food before demanding to know how and where she'd found his job description. She managed to explain between bites how cleverly Molly had concealed it, and he shook his head in amazement and disgust.

"I wasn't lying when I said I had an elaborate revenge planned."

"I believe you. Meaning no offense, you've never particularly struck me as the forgiving sort."

"I was also telling the truth that I was willing to postpone my revenge for the sake of the children."

"I saw you with them. You're quite different with them than you were with us."

He shrugged. "I have no reputation of any sort to maintain. I can simply teach how I wish to teach without deference to anybody else."

She gave him a penetrating look. "Not having them cringe at your insults made giving them less satisfying, didn't it?"

He smirked. "That, too. But I do wish to make you aware that at this point in time, my revenge may be somewhat delayed."

"Really? Why?"

"Because when I contemplate spending more time in your company, my desire to spend more time in Molly Weasley's dwindles to practically nil."

Hermione couldn't credit the warm feeling that was making her toes tingle entirely to Fleur's excellent taste in wine. "Interesting that you should say that," said Hermione, "because when I think about the work that we've done here together, the Department of Ministries sounds less and less attractive. Tell me, Severus, have you ever considered—"

She broke off suddenly as there was a soft knock at the door, which opened to reveal Percy Weasley, who winced as if expecting to be hexed. When a moment passed without being hit with anything painful, he opened his eyes and blinked owlishly at the sight of Hermione and Severus drinking wine companionably.

"It was you," he said at last, sounding more resigned than accusatory.

"I helped," said Hermione. "I couldn't sit and do nothing once I found out what your mother was doing."

Percy had the grace to appear miserable. "You must believe me that if I'd known what she planned, I never would have consented to Bond your Unbreakable Vow. I thought it was simply a precaution. Given your reputation..." he trailed off awkwardly.

"I really couldn't care less about what you thought, Weasley," sneered Severus. "Either way, it's most convenient for you to come around after the most difficult part is over, but that's always been your way, hasn't it?"

Percy looked as if he wanted to cry, but he bobbed his head in acknowledgement. "I'll leave you now. I just came to deliver Mum's offer. We didn't curse it or put binding spells on it or anything, but feel free to test it all you'd like. And if it makes you feel any better, she thinks I was the one who spilled your secret to Hermione, so it's not as if I've got anything good out of the whole experience."

"Well, at least you're free to leave Hogwarts, now, aren't you?" asked Hermione.

"I couldn't do that. Mum already has to tell the Board of Governors that she has to replace four teachers, and pay an exorbitant amount to keep the Potion's position staffed through the end of the year."

Hermione very nearly assured Percy that he should be more worried about his own prospects than his mother's, but she bit her tongue. She didn't want to tip her hand.

As if reading her mind, Percy hung his head. "There's nothing for me here, it's true," he said. "I don't particularly like teaching. It's nowhere near as satisfying as working at the Ministry, but someone has to help Mum and Dad, and it's not as if I've had any better offers."

Hermione made a mental note to suggest to Ron that he might let his brother know about any openings in International Weights and Measures. Not that she approved of nepotism, mind, but Percy was actually qualified to legislate things like cauldron bottoms, and clearly it was something he enjoyed.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Weasley," exclaimed Severus, exasperated. "You can't spend your entire life trying to make up for a mistake you made in your youth. You put your foot in it. You know that. Now get on with your life. If you let other people use that mistake to dictate your life, it just goes to show how little you've learned."

"Even a colossal mistake doesn't mean that you don't deserve to be happy," added Hermione.

Percy shook his head sadly. "What would make me happy would make those whom I've wronged unhappy. I couldn't do that to them, not again."

"It's true, your mum would be mad if you brought a man home to meet them. But your brothers, father, and sister would be overjoyed," said Hermione, "and there are far more of them than there are of her."

Percy looked horrified at having his most closely guarded secret spilled in front of Severus, but Severus gave him an imperious glare.

"Surely you didn't think that Pomona Sprout kept her mouth shut about the circumstances under which you and Jason Clearwater managed to lose twenty points apiece for improper use of a broom cupboard, did you?"

Percy flushed a deep red and mumbled something about having to leave, but he paused in the doorway. "Erm, did you want me to release you from the Fidelius Charm?"

Severus sighed impatiently. "I really don't think it would do the students any favors to suddenly reveal their affable invisible tutor to be a notorious Death Eater. You needn't lift it yet, but I do expect you to be prompt about it when I do ask it of you."

"Of course!" exclaimed Percy indignantly. "I'm not my mother!"

He swept out of the room but took care to close the door quietly after him.

"Surprised as I am to say it, there's hope for that one," commented Severus, setting his empty glass on the sideboard. "Now, before we were rudely interrupted, I was about to invite you to join me for a walk."

"I though we were going to get properly pissed," said Hermione, who wasn't disappointed in the least.

"There will be time for that later, my dear. As things are, I really must insist that you come with me. There's something I've wished to show you for quite some time, but there was never a right time to do so."

Intrigued, Hermione took his proffered hand, and he led her into his private quarters, and down the gently illuminated hall to its very end. There was a door made of ancient-looking boards and cast iron fixtures. He whispered a password, and he opened the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~