A/N: Thanks for waiting for chapter 2!

Beta Love: The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01, Flyby Commander Shepard

Chapter 2: Slytherin, Obviously.

You know, you can touch a stick of dynamite, but if you touch a venomous snake it'll turn around and bite you and kill you so fast it's not even funny.

Steve Irwin

Muggle Bint Given Private Quarters While Rest of Hogwarts Lives in Dorms

A little birdy told me that there is a bit of a fuss going on at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and it begins with Hermione and ends with Granger.

The Muggleborn witch, who was apparently the bane of her classmates from day one, was whisked off to her own room, first by none other than that biased, brooding, cat named Minerva McGonagall. Then, after a potion explosion that had obviously been concocted by the little bint herself, she charmed herself up a potions master, and is now his apprentice, earning herself, yet again, her own room quarters while other more deserving children are forced to share quarters in the dormitories.

Hogwarts is obviously playing favourites. I ask you, when did the paltry needs of one crybaby student require a private quarters?

I think everyone at Hogwarts needs to start crying to have their own quarters instead of the shared dorms!

Owled Letter to Editor of The Daily Prophet

Dear Mr Cuffe,

I, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy of the House of Malfoy, send you greetings on this October the fifteenth in the year of nineteen hundred and ninety-one.

It has come to my attention that certain people under your employ are casting aspersions upon the great school of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and as a person who values passing a fine quality education on to the next generation as well as one who values the Old Ways that truly matter, I find the discrediting of the ancient and most respected master and apprentice system to be completely uncalled for and slanderous. This horrendous bit of libel is a blatant act of defamation that I cannot and will not stand for against a school with such great and honourable past.

As you very well know, it is the duty of a master to provide shared quarters for their apprentices ever since olden times, and I can personally attest that Master Severus Snape took on Apprentice Hermione Granger as befits a man of his station. While all masters are equally able to do so, it has become a shockingly rare thing to find anymore, and I will not see you or your employ, assassinating Master Snape's character for taking on a fine old tradition.

I am sure, as a man of substance, you are not going to simply stand idly by and permit your employees defame your reputation. I sincerely hope you will arrange to have a suitable retraction posted in the next publication and ensure that discipline administered to Miss Skeeter in hopes of preventing this sort of thing from happening again.

I remain, yours in honour,

Lucius Abraxas Malfoy

(seal of the House of Malfoy, pressed in sealed witness wax of Lady Elisabeth Cavendish-Davis, Testimonium Officialis)

Rita Skeeter was seriously brassed-off.

She buzzed a line into the open window and looked around. Her beetle senses were almost blown away by a cloud of perfume that drifted by and she backed up into a spider web.

A large, hungry spider came careening down the well towards her, and she struggled frantically, using her large mass to break the silk, saving herself, if only by a few inches. Merlin! What the hell did they feed the spiders in this horrible place?

That's what it was too. Horrible.

She'd worked her arse off trying to get in the limelight, and instead no one would give her the time of day— not until she learned to become an Animagus and write all the dirt that people didn't want out there.

Why was this Muggleborn whelp any different? What made her so special? Why did Lucius Malfoy take such offence?

Of course, Cuffe had immediately bent to the will of Lord Malfoy because anyone and everyone that knew anything knew that messing with Malfoy meant you wouldn't last long.

She was going to prove him wrong, though. She was going to get real evidence and shame the name Malfoy so badly that no one would ever listen to him again. She was doing the world a service, after all. It wouldn't take long, either. She had a secret weapon in her Animagus form. She could get around just about everything, and she planned to do just that. She landed on some student's robes, tucking herself between the wrinkles. She was going to make sure that Muggleborn witch got everything coming to her.

"What is this, Uncle?"

"It's a game."

Draco huffed, poking the contraption, and a glowing ball shot out, narrowly missing Draco's eye. "Hey!"

"Don't poke what you don't understand," Snape cautioned. "You'll lose an eye."

Draco sighed. "What is it really?"

"A game," Snape repeated. "Speaking of stupidity, what have I told you about coming in here without your wrap-around glasses?"

Draco looked down at the floor. "Not to."

"I do not want your father demanding to know why his son is a marble statue," Snape said, narrowing his eyes. "Don't make me seal you out of this room for your own safety."

Draco hastily put the wraparound shades over his eyes. "They tint everything rose-coloured," Draco complained.

"Would you rather be petrified?"

"No, Uncle," Draco replied quickly.

Hermione shuffled in from the adjoining room. "I finished your assignments, Master," she said, screeching to a halt and hurriedly turning away, covering her eyes with her arm as the serpents pulled her headdress on when she realised they were not alone. "I'm sorry!" she cried.

"No, Draco knows better than to come here without his glasses on," Snape said as he pinned the boy with a glare. "Don't you, Draco?"

"Yes, Uncle," Draco said sheepishly.

"You have my permission to petrify him if he is stupid enough to come here again without his glasses on," Snape said, driving the point in with a hammer. "His father paid through the teeth to have those made, he would be most perturbed finding out all you did was not use them."

Draco flushed, turning the same colour as his shades.

"Have you seen Socrates? He said he was hungry," Hermione said. "I figured I'd get him something to eat before he ate someone."

Snape pointed to the large tail sticking out of his washroom. "He's steaming himself in the bath."

Draco's eyes widened, having missed the giant snake tail sticking out of the door. "How did I miss that?"

"He's wonderfully stealthy for a giant snake," Snape said. "I'd recommend knocking before attempting to use the loo."

Draco fidgeted. "I'll, uh, hold it."

"It's okay, Socrates doesn't mind sharing space," Hermione said.

"He's a basilisk!" Draco protested.

"What does that have to do with sharing space?" Hermione asked.

Draco twitched, thinking the answer was pretty obvious, even if it was only to him.

The green flames in the Floo caused Severus to lift his head. "Yes?"

"Clear for a visit, brother?" Lucius' voice purred. "I have my rose-coloured glasses on, as it were."

"Come through, Lucius."

The tall, immaculate blond wizard stepped through, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth as he yawned. "Ungodly hour, Severus," Lucius said. "I hope all the hoops have been jumped through?"

"Yes, well, your letter to the Prophet at least gained us a reprieve," Severus said. "I thank you for that."

Hermione bowed her head to Lucius as he came through, but her serpents peered at the wizard with barely-contained curiosity. Their tongues flicked out, tasting the air to get a read on him.

"No need for formalities here," Lucius said. "This is perhaps the safest place in all Hogwarts."

"How did the board meeting go, father?" Draco asked.

"Dry," Lucius replied. "They are, thankfully, easily encouraged by the positive press of having a real apprenticeship going on under their roof as well as a Mythborn once I reminded them it wasn't so long ago that young wizards and witches dreamed of waking up one day and finding out they were Mythborn."

"People dream of wanting to petrify people?" Hermione asked in horror.

"Probably not specifically, no," Lucius said, rubbing his chin with his fingers. "I'm sure they wanted something more glamourous, such as waking up a Nemean lion. You have to understand, the scarier and more deadly the better back in the day. You could protect what was yours, and by proxy, your allies, so being scary wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Many, pureblood included, like to forget that part of our history because it happens so rarely. If you notice on our coat of arms, we have the dragon. Long ago, our family had a dragon Mythborn in our family. They were quite proud of that. Other families were much the same."

"But if—" Hermione's question trailed off.

"The idea of pureblood seems to be a little stranger now, knowing that, hrm?"

Hermione nodded.

"Somehow, families that hadn't had a Mythborn in ages or at all, decided that it wasn't being blessed by magic that made them special. It was their bloodlines. It all became about blood, and that twisted into something else. I will admit, there was a time I forgot the true meaning of the Old Ways, and I was not alone. Until my brother reminded me that Mythborn were not just stories."

"Saving your life may not have had anything to do with it," Severus said with a sniff.

Lucius placed his hand on his chest. "Side benefit, old friend."

"Hnn," Snape answered.

"Come, brother, surely we have saved each other's lives long enough to know that we are both stuck with each other," Lucius said. He turned to Hermione. "Let's get a good look at you, Miss Granger."

Hermione came up, looking wide-eyed at the blond wizard who was more than a little intimidating on first glance. One of her snakes struck out a him, and Hermione quickly snatched it and hissed at it. "Behave. That's Lord Malfoy. You know him."

The snake in question hung its head.

"Sorry," Hermione said. "He's ar—arborial. He strikes out at moving things and can't help himself."

Lucius shook his head. "It's all right. No harm done." He waved his wand over her and inspected her skin. "New scales growing in. Does it itch?"

"Master makes a salve for it," Hermione answered. "And I soak for hours in the tub if I can."

Lucius' lips turned upward. "As the one who had his bathing pool crafted, I can assure you I am glad it is getting more use."

Draco eyed the snake tail coming out of the bathroom. "Maybe you need to give him another."

Lucius stared at the basilisk's tail and shrugged. "Good thing it's a large bathing pool."

"At least he doesn't steal the soap," Severus said. "The house-elves had to be trained not to come in unexpectedly, however."

"Socrates spat him out!" Hermione protested, wringing her hands.

Lucius placed a hand on her head, soothing her snakes gently, and Hermione calmed to his touch. "I'm sure he's fine, Hermione. How about we get Socrates something to eat and then we can all get something to eat for ourselves, hrm? Provided you are agreeable, Severus?"

Snape waved his hand dismissively. "It is fine with me as long as her homework is finished, and we all know it is."

Draco looked very interested. "But mum—"

"Your dear mother is off being a social butterfly with the ladies, Draco. Surely we are allowed to have a night out as well?"

Draco brightened. "Okay!"

"You mum doesn't like you going out?" Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. "She's a little strange about going out with me, specifically. My hair has to be just right. My robes."

Hermione's snake hair exchanged glances with each other and shook their heads. Hermione's expression seemed quizzical as she shrugged. "Okay. Master, can you help me change my robes over to outside-safe?"

Severus touched the pins on her collar and the robes shifted the more casual apprentice-wear with a bit less billow and more comfort. He pulled her headdress over her head, and it shimmered, making her serpents look like hair— only they still moved about independently, making it look like she had sentient hair. He soothed them down, gently rubbing each serpent's chin before tucking them in place. The typical Unspeakable blindfold that normally went over the eyes and were enchanted to show her eyes as disturbing glowing orbs was replaced by a Victorian style facemask— ornate, beautiful, yet skin tight with nothing overly crazy to get stuck on anything or get in her way. The holes where her eyes would normally show were covered with very specific crafted lenses that made it look as those human eyes were peering out. "There you go. Mask feel okay?"

"Yes, master."

"Fortunately for us, olden masters used to give their apprentices masks to wear because they did not want people to judge their work by who made it. Apprentices had to let their work speak for them. Only then could they rise to be their own person and take the mask off. Of course, no one needs to know the real reason you are wearing one, yes?"

Hermione nodded.

"See if you can coax Socrates out of my bathing pool, hrm?"

Hermione grinned and dashed off to do as he asked.

"Have anything you wish— taken care of, Magorian?" Severus asked bowing his head to the leader of the centaur. "Something an overgrown and hungry snake might be able to take off your hands?"

The elder centaur raised a brow. "Not unless you mean to take care of a certain Acromantula problem that has been plaguing us for years," he said. The centaur paused, rubbing his chin. "We also have that infestation of swine that got loose from one of the human settlements. They come at night to eat our crops, gore our foals, and generally make our hunters very frustrated. Too smart for their own good."

"I am sure that our friend Socrates would appreciate having a place to hunt. Is there an area you wish—" Severus sniffed, contemplating the right word. "Cleared?"

"We have a crop area deeper in the woods that was ransacked. Days of work destroyed. If we could plant there again, it would be a great boon to us, friend Severus."

"Is there anyone there now?"

"No, we haven't had the heart to step hoof in there since the destruction."

"Why don't you show my apprentice the area, and she can help you with your hog situation."

Magorian nodded, stomping his feet to rid himself of the flies. "Gladly."

"You sure it's safe leaving Socrates in the Forbidden Forest?" Lucius asked.

"He won't go farther than that area, and the centaur have been warned to stay out until given the all clear. Unlike many humans, they actually understand when rules are given to save their lives." Severus scratched his head as he watched Draco and Hermione try and decide which kind of ice cream they wanted from the case.

"That looks really good," Hermione said. "Could I get that?"

"Sure, young miss," Fortesque said, giving her a large scoop in a homemade waffle cone.

"What is that?" Draco asked, suspicious.

"Chocolate raspberry fudge swirl," the older wizard said with a grin. "My wife's favourite."

Hermione placed her coins on the counter and licked her ice cream, happy with her choice.

"I'll take that one," Draco said, pointing to the green chocolate mint swirl.

"Sure thing," the wizard answered, giving him a large scoop in a cone and handing it over.

"Thank you!" both children said, making sure he was paid. They shambled over to their own, smaller table, dutifully ignoring the adults and pretending they weren't there.

Lucius chuckled. "She seems to be adjusting just fine."

Severus nodded. "Once she realised she wasn't alone, she took to the changes much easier. Then, finding out Slytherin wasn't filled with a bunch of criminals also helped."

Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose. "We have never been viewed positively," he said. "By the other houses, at least."

"Minerva had her new spectacles crafted, so she's safe to stick her feline whiskers into everyone's business again. I found her curled up in Hermione's lap as she was passed out on Socrates. Reading Hogwarts: A History again."

"She does like that book, I've noticed," Lucius said. "The enchanted glass is not cheap. I hope Minerva did not use up her savings on it."

"Minerva has an in with Amelia," Severus said. "She got the in-house discount price."

"Still— well, I admire her dedication," Lucius said.

Severus shrugged. "She truly cares for the girl. More so than her own sodding parents, or so it would seem. They couldn't dump her fast enough into Albus' lap."

"Does she know?"

Severus sighed. "Unfortunately. She is taking it well, all things considered. Her bond with Socrates helps. As do her headful of scaly friends. She's resilient, I will give her that."

"I heard she had her first go at Crabbe and Goyle. I'm sure they are much like their fathers."

"Stuffing their faces with sweets from the kitchens mostly," Severus answered. "They'll be rolling out of Hogwarts before they can graduate. But, they did actually manage not to insult Hermione on her first day, and that shows more character than their parents."

Lucius took a bite of his sundae, somehow managing to make it look suave. "Moderation was never Crabbe or Goyle's forté I fear. I think it's genetic."

"Wonderful," Severus sneered. "I tire of covering for them, Slytherin or not. They blow things up almost as much as Finnigan."

"As I recall—we were hard pressed to keep them out of trouble back in the day," Lucius said.

"I think I've blocked that from my memory along with a hoard of other things that I should have stuffed away into a jar and forgotten permanently."

Both men instinctively rubbed their arms at the thought.

Lucius looked up to see Draco sharing his ice cream with Hermione. "I had really hoped he'd annihilated himself, but it's not going to be that easy, is it, brother?"

Severus watched as Hermione's "hair" cleaned up her face with their tongues— made all the more amusing that it was still charmed to look like hair. Hair with tongues, apparently. "No, but if we play our cards right, those two will never have to take the Mark."

Lucius nodded grimly.

"Lucius, how could you expose our son to such danger?"

"Danger? Since when is ice cream dangerous, my wife?"

Narcissa Malfoy frowned. "You know what I mean. Everywhere you go, people notice. I heard from Margaret that she saw you at Fortesque's with that Muggleborn."

"Mythborn, Narcissa."

"A dangerous one!" Narcissa hissed. "I don't want to risk Draco getting petrified by a Medusa!"

"Gorgon," Lucius corrected.

"I don't care what you call it!" Narcissa argued.

Lucius' eyes seemed to turn to ice. "Do not forget what my blindness and pureblood superiority got us following the wishes of our parents, Narcissa. No not forget what it already cost you."

Narcissa paled. "Th— this isn't the same."

"Isn't it?" Lucius asked. "Think carefully on who you wish to make your enemy. For now, she is a frightened young girl who is just learning who she can trust. If you are worried what she might do as a friend, think harder on what she may be like when all she knows is spite."

Narcissa flinched. "But she's a monster," Narcissa fretted.

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "We are all capable of being monsters, Narcissa. She just has to face it sooner in life than we ever did."

Hermione pressed the button with her foot and a glowing ball came out of the launcher and smacked her straight in the middle of the forehead.

"Ow!" she cried, rubbing her head.

"You okay?" one serpent asked.

"That looked like it hurt," another said.

The silent snake had a small red heart over its head.

Hermione pulled the serpents closer, rubbing her cheek against them. "I'm fine. I'm just— Eleanor said I should be able to see through you, so being completely blindfolded will never catch me off guard, but I swear all I get are projectiles to the face."

"Can you see them?" one serpent asked.

"Yes, but I see all of your vision at once. It's hard to— back before I only had one set of eyes." Hermione sighed rubbing her blindfold.

The snakes whispered to each other.

"We have an idea!"

Hermione scratched her head, dislodging a snake. "Okay?"

Her head snakes burrowed into each other, making themselves into a turban. Then one snake peeked out.

"How's this?"

"Oh!" Hermione said. "What a wonderful idea!"

Plonk!

Draco yelped and rubbed his head. "This game is painful!"

"Only if you miss!" Hermione giggled. Each of her head serpents had a ball in their mouth as they wobbled from right to left like a cobra to a flute.

Draco glared at the serpents. "That's hardly fair."

"Use the gifts I have," Hermione said cheekily. "Jealous?"

Draco crossed his arms. "No." He turned away. "Maybe a little."

Hermione grinned, flashing her fangs.

"Out of my bath, you bath hog!" Snape's voice bellowed, and Socrates slithered out of the bath, scales glistening.

Socrates hissed a greeting, chuckling to himself.

"Are you being bad?" Hermione asked.

The basilisk's red feather rose with amusement.

"No bother asking him," Draco said. "He's always up to trouble.

Socrates hissed, tickling Draco's ear with his tongue, causing Draco to bat him away.

"Gah! Snake tongue," Draco moaned.

Hermione flicked her tongue out at him. "Pbbt."

Draco sighed. "Mum was having a fit again." He pulled out a large box and tapped it with his wand. It enlarged to be even larger. Inside was a disturbing array of biscuits and muffins, pastries, and sweets. "She always sends sweets after she and dad have one of their "discussions."

"Any idea what it's about?" Hermione asked.

"With mum it's either appearances or appearances. There really isn't anything else she worries about."

Hermione blinked. "Mum— well back when she was my mum— she only worried about appearances if we had to go out on Sunday or out to dinner with dad's colleagues."

Draco pushed the box over. "Share these with me, yeah? I'll make myself sick if eat them all, and if Pansy gets ahold of the box, no one will get any."

Hermione took a biscuit from the box and nibbled thoughtfully. Her headsnakes peered at the box too, and snatched up a few of the small raisin and currant stuffed cakes and shared it between themselves, getting crumbs everywhere.

Hermione sighed as she was rained on my pastry crumbs.

Draco laughed, and she giggled soon after.

"Silly things," Hermione bemoaned.

The silent snake had a small question mark above his head.

"You can have one too," Draco said.

The snake seemed undecided as to which biscuit to take. Draco lifted out a Garibaldi biscuit and handed it to the indecisive serpent. The snake sported a tiny exclamation mark and a tiny pink heart over his head as it took the tasty bit of homemade goodness and curled around it protectively, hissing at the other snakes that got too close.

"Snakes that eat biscuits," Draco laughed. "I wish mum could see this. Maybe she's stop being such a worrywort."

Hermione frowned. "She probably thinks I'm a monster. I am, so, it's not hard to guess."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "You're a better friend than Crabbe and Goyle," he said, not even honoring them with their first names. "I'm glad they don't have special petrification powers. Everyone would be stone by nightfall."

Hermione blinked, made slightly strange by the membrane that slid across her eyes just before her eyelids closed.

"That's wicked," Draco said, staring at her.

Hermione flushed. "What?"

"You have two sets of eyelids!" Draco said, admiring them.

Hermione flushed slightly pink. "Stop staring!" she squeaked.

"Sorry," Draco apologised. "It's just really neat. And your eyes have these really pretty golden patches of light in them."

"You realise how odd it is to be staring a gorgon in the eyes, yeah?"

Draco grinned, tapping his protective eyewear. "Might as well use it!"

"You two done with your homework?" Snape's voice came from the desk where he was grading a large pile of— everything.

Hermione crossed her arms. "Of course, master."

Draco nodded. "Yes, Uncle."

"Seems as Miss Granger is a positive influence on your study habits," Snape said.

Draco grinned and carried over the box of sweets. "Mum was baking again. You know what that means."

Severus arched a brow as he plucked an applecake muffin off the top. "Eat it and enjoy it, or else."

Draco nodded.

"Let's not even try to count how many sweets I've been forced to enjoy on fear of my life."

Hermione exchanged glances with Draco, who gave her a gallant shrug.

"You might as well take some to Her Tabbiness," Severus said. "Even Minerva respects Narcissa's sweet-cooking binges."

Draco fetched a thick cloth from the cabinet and he and Hermione plucked some of the best looking sweets out of the box and wrapped them up.

"Take these scrolls with you as an excuse. Otherwise the Gryffindor will say you are bribing her for better points," Severus instructed.

"That's stupid," Draco said.

"But they will think it," Snape cautioned.

Draco made a face and sighed. "I'll take the rest to the common room and set them out for everyone," he said. "You ok to get to Professor McGonagall's door?"

"I'll be fine," Hermione answered. "Unless she moved her quarters."

"Her chambers are not the Come and Go Room," Snape muttered.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"Exactly what it sounds like," Snape said, waving her off as he suffered through even more scrolls.

Hermione and Draco exchanged glances.

"Time to look it up in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione said. She hugged Socrates around his huge head and kissed his nose. "I'll be back soon, Socrates!"

Socrates tongue flicked, tickling the witch in a few places as she made sure her headdress was on properly. Her headsnakes complained as she tucked them under the crown so they would look like hair instead of their charming, colourful, and overly fatal selves.

The pair scampered out the door that lead into the hall rather than the common room and disappeared from sight.

Socrates laid his chin over Severus' head, tongue flicking as he watched him grade the scrolls. Severus, not taking his attention off the scrolls, broke off a piece of his apple-cinnamon muffin and held it out, and the basilisk's tongue flicked out, lassoed around it, and carried it into his mouth.

"We'll keep your rather bizarre diet between you and me, eh, Socrates?"

This basilisk hissed contentedly in agreement.

"Oi, look, it's the bintworm," a familiar voice scoffed as Hermione rushed down the corridor towards Minerva's chambers.

"Where you going in such a hurry, bintworm?"

"Off to get more of us in trouble, eh?"

"Not happy with all the points we had taken off because of you?"

"Leave me alone," Hermione said, hurrying faster.

Someone snatched the parcel out from her pile of scrolls.

"Oh, what's this? Bintworm packed herself a snack."

"Give that back!" Hermione cried.

"We don't forgive all that, you know," one of the voices said, but Hermione couldn't tell whose it was. She caught the flash of red and black, but trying to focus while being swirled around was a bit too much for her. Her head serpents, unused to such manhandling, could offer her no assistance, as she felt their confusion and torment as clearly as her own.

"Especially when that person goes traitor to Slytherin."

"Just proves she never belonged to us," another voice said.

"Yeah. Good riddance, I say."

"Hate to have these sweets go to waste though."

"Give those back!" Hermione protested.

"Aw, look. Little bintworm is going to cry."

"I think she soiled her tiny, little knickers."

"We really should check. Wouldn't want her to go around with soiled knickers, yeah?"

Hermione cried out as she was abruptly flipped upside down by her ankles.

"We wouldn't want her to be dirty. Heh. Heh. Heh."

"Scourgify."brushes went all over her body. She choked, spluttering. Her head serpents started hissing madly, striking out randomly under the onslaught— only her attackers did not seem to understand just how precariously their lives hung in the balance, believing her hair to be as wild and untameable as ever.

"Leave her alone!" a young voice screeched.

"Go back to the dorms, Haley!"

"You're bullying someone!"

"We're just binning the rubbish, Haley, go back to the dorm!"

"I'll telling McGonagall on you, Ronald Weasley!"

"Shhht!"

"Shut her up!"

"Cormac McLaggen! Andrew Kirke! I know all your names!"

"Quick! Obliviate her!"

"What? She's a child!"

"You want to get in trouble because of a little eleven-year-old tattletale?"

"Obliv—"

"Expelliarmus!"

Hermione heard the sounds of frantic scuffling.

The wound of a young girl's scream echoed down the corridors, and this time the muttering of all the portraits rose up in automatic response. An enormous elk Patronus went zinging down the hall, lighting it up with its brilliance.

"What in Merlin's beard irons are you all doing?!" the head boy roared as prefects came streaming out in response to the young girl's panicked scream.

The head girl blocked all hope of escape with some hastily conjured bins of licorice that wrapped around the runners' legs and kept them from leaving the scene of the crime. Prefects from all of the houses came from every corridor, some only half-dressed and looking ready to commit murder.

"Protego," a venomous voice cut through the commotion as Snape caught his apprentice in his arms. She fell from the ceiling, head first, and he slowed her descent and pulled her against him as she fell. Hermione said nothing, but she had a death grip on her master as she trembled and clung to him.

"What is going on here?!" Minerva's voice rolled over the crowd.

"The Slytherin started it!"

"Yeah, we just finished the fight, that's all!"

"I highly doubt that the apprentice of one of our teachers is out instigating a brawl only to get strung up by her ankles in the hallway!" Minerva yelled. "Not to mention that the notion that a first-year would hardly be so foolish as to attack multiple students from a rival house, several of them considerably older than herself!"

Red faces averted their gazes, going silent.

"You said she wasn't really an apprentice!" one voice angrily hissed at another student.

Minerva's head turned around like an owl's, her eyes narrowing. "All of you, march to the Headmaster's office. Now. All of your parents will be getting owls to get permission for memories. Miss Branstone, I need you and Mr Hilliard to send a Patronus to the Auror's office to expect a formal request for their presence to arrive from me very shortly.

"Yes, Deputy Headmistress," they said together.

"And just for even being out this late past curfew, all of you will be enjoying Mr Filch's hospitality for the next week. Now march!" Minerva growled, pointing her wand down the corridor.

The guilty students shambled towards the Headmaster's office like a chastened chain of whipped puppies.

"Hey, Hermione," a voice said from over the curtain. "Why are you here?"

"That you, Harry?"

"Yeah."

"I'm here to make sure no one broke anything."

"Broke— anything?"

"Gryffindor apparently decided I needed a 'lesson' again," Hermione said. "Why are you here?"

"Can I move over this curtain? Talking to a curtain is… kinda strange."

Hermione moved the curtain over.

"Thanks."

"Wow, what happened to your leg?"

"A really, really large dog."

"You have a dog?"

"No, it was over in that corridor on the third floor."

"The one that is forbidden?"

Harry flushed. "Yeah."

Hermione frowned. "I'm kind of glad you weren't there tonight."

"Why? What happened?"

"They strung me up by my ankles and pulled my trousers down." Hermione sighed. "And Scourgified me."

"And what-ed you?"

"Covered me in soap suds and attacked me with cleaning brushes."

Harry's eyes went wide. "And I thought my aunt and uncle were the only people who did that sort of thing."

"They—"

Harry nodded. "Without the magic, so just imagine throwing me into a tub full of soapy water and assaulting me with a scrub brush."

Hermione frowned. "It's horrible."

"Yeah."

"Hey, who were you talking to in there?"

"Talking to?"

"Yeah, sounded like you had a bunch of concerned parties in there with you."

"He can hear us?"

"He can?"

"Uh-oh, he's staring this way!"

"Try to look busy."

Harry eyed at Hermione rather strangely. "Maybe I did hit my head. I mean, there is no one there, but I'm hearing other voices."

Hermione stared at her lap. "You remember that really bad explosion in Potions, right?"

"How could I forget that? Even without Trevor clinging to Bulstrode's face."

Hermione cracked a smile at that. "There were some, erm, aftereffects."

"You have multiple personalities?"

"Uh… no," Hermione said with a frown. "Well, not exactly."

A black basilisk head poked out from Hermione's curls sporting a miniature blindfold and size. Hermione gasped, covering his head. "Socrates! Oh good, you have your blindfold on. Okay."

Socrates stuck his tongue out, flicking it toward Harry.

"You got a snake?" Harry said with wide-eyed wonder.

"Harry, this is Socrates," Hermione introduced. "He's a basilisk. I had no idea he could shrink—"

"What's with the blindfold?"

"So he doesn't petrify you."

Harry blinked. "Oh. That, um, makes sense then."

"He's a bit clingy right now. He's mad at himself for not being there earlier to protect me. I keep telling him that petrifying Gryffindor isn't going to help. I don't think he believes me."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't," Harry admitted.

The mini-basilisk head wobbled, tongue and pits working hard to get a bead on Harry.

"Hi," Harry said. "Pleased to meet you, uh— Socrates?"

"You with the mean ones?" Socrates accused. "I will seriously fuck you up if you are."

"No, I'm not!" Harry cried. "I swear!"

Socrates pulled back, slightly caught unaware. "You can understand me?"

"Well, yeah, you spoke to me."

Socrates whispered into Hermione's ear.

"Socrates says he'll give you a chance if you swear to him you're not one of the bullies." Hermione tilted her head. "You could get tell him—" Hermione protested.

"I, uh," Harry said, scratching his head. "I swear I'm not a bully, or if I was, I swear I didn't know I was."

Socrates tilted his head at him and shook it, hissing.

"Good enough, I guess," Hermione said. "You promise to keep this secret?"

Harry nodded.

"Swear it."

"I swear it!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"I swear it," Harry repeated, his bright green eyes unwaveringly serious and sincere.

Hermione put her hands up to touch her headband, and her "tresses" shimmered as the glamour dropped, exposing some very curious snake heads.

"He's staring at us."

"Well, to be fair, we are staring at him."

"Think we can trust him?"

"Do we bite him?"

"Please don't," Harry whispered.

The headsnakes wobbled back and forth.

"This is Glyph," Hermione said, stroking the eastern brown snake. A small heart formed over his head. "This is Mal," she said, stroking a blue snake with a striking orange head and tail, and he's a blue Malaysian coral snake. Then there's Nag and Nagaina, Dundee, Ash, Chicka, Border—" she singled out the cobras, the inland taipan, black mamba, boomslang, and Texas coral snake.

"The cottonmouth is Candy, and this is Dia, she's a timber rattler, I think. The saw-toothed viper is Jig. Ray is a krait. Ada is the death adder. This cute lady is Gabby the gaboon viper. The rosy boa is Rose. This beautiful one here is Penny. She's a copperhead. Oh!" She snatched Chicka to keep her from biting Harry's forehead. "Sorry, she's pretty trigger-happy. And Gem is an emerald tree boa."

Harry's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Wow!" He frowned. "This was all because of Neville?"

Hermione shrugged. "Madam Pomfrey seems to think it was just a catalyst— it was bound to happen, but it he managed to help it happen faster."

Harry swallowed hard. "I'm not sure I could handle that well. I have enough problems being the ruddy Boy-Who-Lived."

Hermione seemed to understand and sympathise. "People make judgements before they even know you."

Harry nodded grimly. "Yeah, exactly." He eyed the serpents with a mixture of caution and curiosity overflowing. "May I touch you?"

The serpents exchanged glances. "Okay, as long as she's okay with it."

Harry looked at Hermione rather sheepishly.

Hermione shrugged. "It's okay with me."

Harry carefully reached out and rubbed the snakes very gently with his fingers, and they tickled him with their tiny forked tongues as they checked him out in return. "Looks like you were meant to be in Slytherin, after all, yeah?" He smiled warmly at her without so much as a hint of malice in his voice.

Hermione chuckled at that. "I suppose so."

"The hat thought I should've been in Slytherin," Harry confessed, "but I pleaded to be in Gryffindor instead."

Hermione frowned. "Truly?"

Harry nodded.

Hermione shook her head, jostling her snakes. "I can't say I have much love for Gryffindor anymore. I haven't had half as much grief since I was switched to Slytherin. Even Pansy leaves me alone now."

"Really? I thought she hated you."

"Turns out she hates Gryffindor far more than the person, Muggleborn or not, and I can't really blame her for that after—"

"Did Gryffindor really attack you?"

Hermione nodded.

Harry was silent for a while. "Was Ron one of them?"

Hermione stared at her lap, her hair serpents all turning to face the window instead of Harry.

Harry slumped. "I see." Something suddenly seemed to occur to him. "Wait, if you have snakes for hair that means—"

Hermione arched a brow.

"Oh, the mask— that's why I'm not a statue."

"Hermione chuckled. "Good thing it wasn't a snake, Harry. It would've bitten you."

Harry crossed his arms and mock-pouted. "Not funny."

"Oh, but it was funny," she said with a grin.

Harry laughed. "Yeah." He itched his head where something was bothering him. A large beetle buzzed, caught in his untidy mop of black hair.

SNAP!

Chicka's fanged mouth closed around the beetle, her fangs sinking into the insects tough carapace like it was nothing at all.

"NNGGAHHHHHGAHHHH!" a feminine shriek caused both Harry and Hermione to cover their ears, and Hermione's head snakes practically tied themselves into pretzels trying to slither away and hide, but they couldn't as they were quite attached.

A woman dressed in obnoxiously bright robes and over-the-top red-framed spectacles seemed to erupt from the ground. "The world is going to know all about you, you snake-haired FREAK!" the witch screamed shrilly as she simultaneously rubbed her punctured arse cheek. She pulled out her wand, but it dropped as her arms were half-transformed into beetle's legs. They twitched against her wishes, making it impossible for her to cast the spell she wanted.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione and Harry yelled together.

Poppy came running around the corner, wand in hand, only to screech to a halt as the shrieking witch fell to the floor, caught in-between woman and beetle as the venom of a hungry boomslang oozed throughout her body. "Rita Skeeter?!" she cried.

Rita could only buzz frantically in obvious distress.

Poppy waved her wand over Rita frantically, casting a bubble of suspended animation over her extremely pale and twitching body. "Alright, which one of your lovely little serpent friends delivered Miss Skeeter a bite to her left buttcheek?"

The tresses of snakes parted, leaving Chicka alone and exposed. The guilty snake hung her head in shame.

"She didn't know!" Hermione said in distress. "She was trying to eat a beetle that was stuck in Harry's hair!"

"Boomslang venom seems to be affecting her magic," Pomfrey said, summoning assistance from the other medi-witches. "Can you two try not to blow anything up before I get back to check on you?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.

"We'll try really hard!"

Severus' mass of billowing black filled the walkway as he stared down at the suspended Rita-beetle and then the two children. "Apprentice."

"Yes, Master?"

"Is this your doing?"

Hermione hung her head, her snakes all drooping along with her. "Yes, Master."

Severus' lip twitched in black amusement at the Rita situation. "Ten points to Slytherin for apprehending an illegal Animagus." Snape glowered over Rita. "I know Alastor will be ecstatic to hear the news."

Effects of Boomslang Venom on Magical Physiology: A Case Study

Boomslang skin, as most know, is a valuable key component in certain Potions; however, what few people know is that boomslangs are a highly venomous and deadly species of snake that affects magical physiology much more strongly than most. It is their very magical nature that makes them so effective for potions work, but the venom is a very potent hemotoxin that makes the body unable to coagulate, or allow blood to clot, and thus one small cut or abrasion will cause internal bleeding (or external) that does not stop.

Muggles believe this to be a slower-acting venom, but for magicals, it is quite the opposite. Symptoms begin almost immediately, and antivenin must be administered quickly in combination with blood replenishers in order to keep the victim from exsanguinating.

Harvesters who seek out the boomslang for its skin tend to raise them in specially-designed habitats and then wait for shedding time to save themselves the chance of getting bitten looking for one in the wilds of Africa, where various other species of highly venomous snakes like to make their home.

After a month-long intensive study by Apprentice Hermione Granger and her master, Master Severus Snape, on a recent victim of boomslang venom, we are happy to publish their reports in our journal this month, including a potion base with which to brew a potion-based antivenin which works well with the magical physiology. Their impressive and groundbreaking work, which includes stasis-treat-stasis patterns, has devised for us a stable method of caring for a typical envenomated patient as well as the rare case in which the victim is also an Animagus, which requires an entirely different treatment protocol due to the specialised area of magic that makes the Animagus transformation possible.

Master Snape and Apprentice Granger would also like to note that appropriate and timely treatment, even successful treatment, does not guarantee a victim will not suffer irreparable damage to the body or mind, as bitten magicals can succumb almost instantly to brain-related symptoms. A percentage of these patients will experience random, permanent side-effects for reasons that are not entirely known at this time.

"Treatment can only stave off further damage, but the only way to ensure that you will not suffer from lingering, possibly permanent side-effects it not to get bitten in the first place," Master Snape stated.

"Boomslangs are native to sub-Saharan Africa," Apprentice Granger informs us, "and the skin is not toxic in any way. It is perfectly safe to use it in potions. In fact, using the venom in potions is also perfectly safe. Just don't get bitten by the snake by sticking your hand in tree cavities in sub-Saharan Africa."

We at the Journal of Wizarding Medicine proudly present the fascinating research of Master Severus Snape and Apprentice Hermione Granger as we nominate this duo for the Wizarding Caduceus Award and the Dilys Derwent Grant for further research in the field of venom-based potions.

Rita Skeeter Found Starkers in Hogsmeade Fountain

Rita Skeeter recently returned to the Daily Prophet after recovering from a lengthy illness, but many of her concerned co-workers are starting to suspect there is something more than a little, well, off about her. Many believed she had chosen to take a leave of absence after her recent shaming of traditional Wizarding values, which caused her name to be summarily dragged through the mud. Regardless of what really happened, Ms Skeeter seems unable to write anything other than gibberish and is prone to spontaneously Disapparating to places unknown— but unfortunately leaving all of her clothing behind.

"Every bloody night, mate," Angus McFadden, proprietor of the Mermaid's Tail told our reporter. "People like to come to my establishment to enjoy the evening, feed the fish, and make wishes. They don't want to see some middle-aged witch without her clothes splashing about in the fountain and scaring off all the fish!"

"I wish she'd quit ruining my evening!" a customer wailed. "I'm going to have nightmares!"

Attempts to get Ms Skeeter to see a healer over the matter have been met only with gibberish and blatant refusal.

After she decided to visit the Ministry's fountain just this morning, Minister Cornelius Fudge had her arrested for public indecency and confined to a cell pending a mandatory psychiatric evaluation at St Mungo's.

Rumour has it that Ms Skeeter is facing an upcoming trial for the crime of being an unregistered Animagus. The Prophet has covered her bail with the promise she would make her trial, but no one at the Prophet seems to have expected this odd turn of events. Whether she will be found competent to testify in her own trial, however, remains to be seen.

"One hundred-year-old scotch?" Lucius asked, arching a blond brow and poking the bottle with one elegant finger.

"Glenfiddich single malt scotch whisky to be precise," Severus said, scribbling on his parchments with a quill doused in bright red ink.

"That from the Journal of Wizarding Medicine or the awards ceremony for the Dilys Derwent grant?"

"Neither," Snape replied. "It was from Alastor and Amelia for bringing Skeeter to justice— ahem— in the most creatively effective way possible."

"That must have cost a pretty penny," Lucius said somewhat enviously. "I remember once sampling an old scotch whisky that was only 'half the age of a wizard' and just that small amount with water would have covered the cost in school supplies for all of the Weasley children for nearly the entirety of their Hogwarts education."

"Lucius, are you fondling my scotch?"

"Nonsense, brother. I am fondling the bottle."

Snape snorted, summoning a pair of glasses over. He touched his wand to the carafe of water, chilling it instantly, and poured the whisky, adding a splash of the ice-cold water to it. He raised his glass. "To Rita Skeeter, who made all this possible, and to my Apprentice's first published work at the age of twelve."

Lucius chuckled and clinked the glass to his. "You are one smug bastard, brother. And deservedly so."

"My apprentice milks her snakes regularly for an almost endless supply of venom, and they seem to enjoy it as a sort of contest to see who can fill the vial up first," Severus said with no little amusement. "The basilisk always wins, though."

"He's huge."

"That too."

"She's immune to their bites?"

"Completely. They nip her affectionately all the time. Thankfully, they seem to know they can only get away with that with her."

Lucius rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So you have a huge grant to study exotic venoms and devise potions to counter them, and you don't even have to leave Scotland to get the necessary venom."

"Life is beautiful," Severus said with an eyebrow lift.

"You are probably the richest wizard that no one ever knew about," Lucius commented.

"Nonsense, you know."

Lucius leveled him with a stare. "I simply find it amusing that most people seem to think you are so terribly poor that you cannot even bring yourself to move out of a small hovel in Muggle Cokeworth. Even Narcissa doesn't realise just how much wealth you really have."

Snape shrugged. "It's hardly anyone's business. I have ample funds to celebrate once the Dark Lord is well and truly dead, but until then, the only one who shall benefit from it is my apprentice, whom I don't think I could ever manage to spoil with wealth in the slightest when even the slightest touch of kindness sends her over the moon."

"Her parents sent no word?"

"Oh they sent it, alright."

Lucius frowned. "They truly gave her over to Dumbledore without so much as a second thought?"

"Minerva is her official mam, as it were," Severus said. She is my apprentice, so that is all that matters. Minerva would come and cuddle with her regardless— even before all of this. Besides, I think they both need that— the little touches. The purr or the hiss, as it were."

"You do not fool me, Severus," Lucius said, smiling at his old friend. "She's grown on you."

Snape sniffed, but one corner of his mouth quirked upward. "She thrives on the intimate lessons, the stern rules, but also the challenge. All the things I could not do while she was not Slytherin. I grate my teeth at the thought of her talent being wasted instead of encouraged because I would have to dress her down, insult her, and stomp all over her insatiable thirst for knowledge."

"Well, there are those we cannot trust, even now," Lucius said, "but at least her being a Slytherin will protect her more than being a typical foolish Gryffindor."

Snape nodded. "More importantly, it keeps the old man's tinkering hands away from her— and that is one of the most important things. Though, to his credit, he is no longer as biased with Gryffindor as he once was. Lately, all the more so, thanks to that stupid situation that should never have happened in the halls of Hogwarts in the first place."

"Draco told me how the clever little minx carried a bundle of doctored biscuits along with the scrolls and hid the real ones in her robe pockets to avoid them being stolen," Lucius said with clear approval. "That was an act I wouldn't expect from one so newly Slytherin."

"Yes, they were sneezing stinging caterpillars out of their noses all the next day— how terribly unfortunate for them," Snape said, his lips twitching slightly with suppressed mirth. "Made it even harder to convince their parents that they had done nothing wrong, yes?"

Lucius smiled broadly over his whisky glass. "Tell me, brother, was it your idea or hers to create a decoy biscuit bundle?"

Severus gave a smug smile. "It was Socrates, actually."

"Remind me to acquire for that basilisk a fatted and well-aged ox," Lucius said with a grin.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll love that," Severus said. "He's been quite the positive cunning influence on Hermione. I find I can only approve of it."

Hermione yawned as she settled into Socrates' smooth coils after brushing her teeth and fangs. The fangs had been interesting, as they folded themselves out of the way when not in use, but she was getting the hang of brushing without trying to fill the sink with venom. Oops.

As she leaned down to spit out the toothpaste suds, her headsnakes would brush their own fangs against the set of snake-sized brushes mounted on the wall. House-elves apparently installed it for them thinking that since she brushed her teeth, so would they. Who knew?

With everyone's fangs all squeaky clean and shiny, and oddly minty fresh, Hermione settled under an emerald green plush blanket tucked within Socrates' huge coils, flipping open her latest book to read another chapter or two before she slept.

A soft glow came from above, and Hermione chuckled as Penny had her mouth open, exposing a glowing blue-white light from her wide open maw.

"Well, aren't you precious?" Hermione laughed, kissing Penny lightly on the snout. She positioned Penny a little over to the left so she could read her page, and the snake happily obliged her.

The others, jealous perhaps, decided to try their mouths out at it, and soon her book was accosted by multiple snakelights.

Hermione soothed them all, laughing, adjusting them so their light wasn't shining into her eyes and illuminated the page instead.

As sleep started to make her droop, and she could tell because all of her snakelights were starting to waver too, she decided to call it a night. Glyph offered her a bookmark, a glowing red heart floating above his head.

"Love you too," Hermione said, kissing Glyph on the nose as she marked her place in her book and set it to the side. She cuddled up in Socrates' coils, pulled the blanket over herself, and let sleep drag her off into blissful oblivion.

A/N: Hehehehe snakelights! Muahahaha!

Thank The Dragon and the Rose for staying up past her bedtime to proof this before bed. You're WELCOME!