Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter books, movies or games, they belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not for sale or rent.

Chapter 1

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Part 1

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After years of war and bloodshed, it was all over. Now that Severus Snape and his right hand, Narcissa Malfoy, clawed their way back to a dubious semblance of sanity after finally getting their vengeance, it all tasted like bitter ashes. Burning down Magical Britain in order to avenge their children, godchildren, and that bloody peacock Lucius didn't make any of them feel any better.

"I just want them all back, Sev," Cissa sniffed while staring dully into the graves of her son and husband.

Snape slowly turned his head towards his long-time accomplice and stared dumbly at her. He wanted them back, of course, even if Lucius was an arse more often than not.

"I am going to join them, Sev," Narcissa raised her head to look at him. Her gray eyes sparkled with unrestrained Black madness.

"Join them?" Severus repeated, feeling like a dunderhand. No matter what magic they dabbled in, they could not bring their loved ones back whole. The best they could achieve were abominations held back by dark blood magic. They found that the hard way after some of Voldemort's finest happily volunteered to be the project's test subjects.

"It's not like there's anything left for us here, Sev." Narcissa's voice was serene in a way Snape hadn't heard it in over a decade. "Do I have permission to finally die, my Lord?"

Severus blinked like an owl at his only remaining friend, and his thoughts stuttered to a screeching stop.

"Merlin, no! You're a genius, Cissa! We aren't dying, we are joining them!" Snape exclaimed.

And that was that. They raided the safe house where they stashed all the research recovered from the ruins of the Department of Mysteries, then spent a few weeks researching and modifying ancient rituals to serve their purposes. The only snag was finding fourteen witches and wizards to sacrifice as a fuel source to send their souls back in time.

By the time the dust settled a couple of months ago, there weren't fourteen people with enough magic left alive in the ruins of magical Britain, so they had to go hunting on the continent.

=DL=

On Halloween Eve, 1991, Severus Snape, Potions Master and tenured Professor in Hogwarts, collapsed on his way to a specific third-floor corridor. A few minutes later, Severus Snape retired? Dark Lord awoke with a groan. Memories of two lifetimes swirled through his mind, bouncing off his tattered Occlumency shields. It took him a handful of seconds to somewhat clear his head and realize that something had undoubtedly gone wrong with the ritual. The new memories in his head weren't those of his younger self. They were those of a Severus Snape, a very different Severus Snape… and were all wrong.

A swish of the wrist had Severus' wand falling into his long fingers before a few wordless spells hit him. The first one calmed him, while the second one dulled his emotions. That was barely enough to allow Snape to retain a dubious grasp on his sanity. Next, he removed a shrunk potion case from a pocket within his robes and enlarged it with a tap of his wand. Its lock clicked open, and Severus's dark eyes rapidly went through its contents. He grabbed a calming draught and a pepper-up potion before closing the lid and shrinking the case. He stashed it back into his robes, drank the potions, and vanished the empty vials. Only then did Severus finally allow himself to properly focus on the insane memories painfully bouncing through his mind.

There was supposedly a Troll in Hogwarts. In the dungeons, no less, where in his infinite wisdom, Albus fucking Dumbledore sent his snakes and the badgers. Brilliant that. Instead of protecting the students who were supposed to be in his charge, Severus had been racing towards the part of the castle where that old madman had stashed the Philosopher's Stone because baiting a Dark Lord into a castle full of children was an incredible idea.

For the first time in a long while, words failed him. Was he poisoned? Was this because the ritual failed? Did it drive him barking mad?!

Severus swished his wand, casting diagnostic and detection charms on his person. Magic bubbled beneath his skin, straining against foreign magic.

The Dark Mark of his former Master was different here yet painfully familiar. As if that wasn't inconvenient enough, there was no mistaking the ethereal chains of an unbreakable vow.

Snape's magic surged, pulling him in various directions. At the same time, disjointed memories fell into place, making something horrifyingly clear. Lily was already dead, murdered by that maniac who trained him over a decade ago! Lily's boy… Fuck… What was wrong with his past self?! And Dumbledore, who did little to protect Lily… Fuck, he was bound to that fool by vow and magic. Severus' tenuous hold over his sanity nearly snapped at that before the words and intents of his vow to Dumbledore finally registered. They were all focused on protecting Harry. At least, that was something he could live and work with.

There was only one other complete bond he had to worry about, which was hardly a relief. As his magic surged through him, Severus could feel a golden thread linking him with Cissa, his Cissa. She was also back, almost certainly with Lucius, so there was nothing to worry about on that front.

Then, all the frayed threads used to link Snape with the long-dead people he cared about flared to life. Severus' magic burst forth, surging up several severed threads and mending them. His daughter. His godson. Lily's pain in the ass brat… Long broken links slammed into place, and for the first time in over a decade, Severus felt somewhat whole. A moment later, worry and outright terror surged back from two of the links, informing Snape in no uncertain terms that his daughter was in danger and that Harry sodding Potter was up to no good again. Fucking Potter luck. And why in Merlin's name did his new, old? memories insisted that his daughter was a muggleborn!?

Severus shoved those confusing thoughts aside and willed his wand back into its holster. A moment later, he shifted into his animagus form and flew down the corridor like a bat out of hell, which was most appropriate.

=DL=

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, during the Greengrass Annual Samhain ball, the most prominent wizards and witches on the British Islands watched with stunned disbelief as Narcissa Malfoy collapsed in her husband's hands while they were dancing. Before Lucius Malfoy could rush his wife to Saint Mungo, she awoke, snogged her husband, and disapparated them, making a scene that British Magical society would speak of for months to come.

Lucius wouldn't mind, for as soon as they were back home, Narcissa did her best to shag the life out of him. Repeatedly and very vigorously at that.

=DL=

Distant crashes and shouts spurned Severus' bat animagus form to fly as fast as his wings could carry him. He took a sharp turn, gliding around a corner, and barely avoided crashing at the back of Quirrel's turban. The sheer stench of garlic clinging to the man like a nasty rash sent Snape spinning into a dive that he barely recovered from just before smashing his snout into the ground. He screeched angrily, vowing to set that stuttering idiot on fire, and surged forward on bat's wings.

When Severus finally reached the source of the commotion, his heart skipped a beat. There was a giant fucking troll taking a large part of a lavatory. It held Lily's boy by the ankles and swung its bat wildly, trying to bash Potter's head off. Hermione was in there, too, cowering below a row of smashed sinks. She was a mess – her hair was frightfully wild and unkempt. White dust clung to her wet, ripped robes, and the sheer terror in her eyes made Snape's blood boil.

Severus' animagus form rippled, and he landed lightly on his feet, like he had done countless times before. His wand jumped into his outstretched hand, already swishing the right way. A hissed incantation released Snape's boiling magic.

The Troll's club turned into a flock of steel-beaked birds, which immediately descended upon its head and went for its eyes and mouth. Snape conjured a steel spear with a sharp motion, then hurled it at the beast's throat, ripping it out. The lance nailed it to the far wall. Severus chain-cast a cushioning charm on Potter, then summoned the flailing boy just as the Troll let him go to grab its throat. A jerking wand motion deposited Lily's boy beside the other sodding schoolboy, a Weasley, if his red mop of hair was anything to go by.

Snape spent a moment scanning the two tiny fools for injuries. When he determined that they were intact enough, he rushed to tend to his daughter, still struggling with foreign memories, claiming her to be a muggleborn of no consequence.

What was wrong with this damn world!?

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Part 2

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Snape marched toward his daughter while rage clawed against his Occlumency shields. If he had been just a bit slower, she would be dead. She could have died before he got here anyway if the state of the lavatory was anything to go by! Someone was going to die for allowing that troll into the castle!

Hermione flinched at his approach. Her wide, unfocused eyes tore themselves from the beast's bleeding-out corpse and stared at Severus in fright, which halted him in his tracks. Snape spent a few moments composing himself and shoving his emotions into a box, which he locked tightly behind his mental shields. It was a testament to how messed up he was that even now, he had only a tenuous control over his feelings.

"Miss Granger…" The name came out in a drawl, sounding odd and wrong to Severus' ears. "Hermione?" He asked gently, in a way that made the little sods behind him gasp. "I'll check if you are all right, little witch," Snape murmured and cast with slow, deliberate motions, which nevertheless made his daughter flinch.

A diagnostic charm lit Hermione's tiny body, revealing only bruises, scrapes, and shock. Severus retrieved his emergency potion's case for the second time that night and removed a calming draught.

"Drink this. It will make you feel better," Snape firmly told his daughter. He ignored Minerva's arrival, her sudden stop and gasp at the sight they all made in favor of slowly pushing the open potion's bottle to Hermione's lips and gently lifting her chin with a finger so she could swallow all of the draught. His daughter grimaced at the taste but drank everything as instructed. The tension leached from her tiny frame almost immediately, and her eyes lidded as she relaxed.

"What happened here!? Are you all right?" Minerva demanded of the boys. "Severus?"

Snape stashed his potions' case and carefully picked up Hermione, who instinctively clutched the front of his robes and held for dear life before the draught made her relax further.

"Miss Granger needs a healer. I'll bring her to the medical wing. I'm leaving your dunderheads in your capable hands, Minerva," Snape was amazed at how composed his voice came out.

He rose and turned around, his hands full with a tiny witch.

The little dunderheads stared at him slack-jawed, as if he had just grown a second head or worse, while Minerva gave him an odd look that held a hint of approval. Behind the Transfiguration professor, Quirrel stood frozen in place and simply gaped at the dead troll as if lost for words.

"I'll sort it out. Bring her to Poppy," Minerva decided and waved him away. Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley! What in Merlin's name were you two doing out here!?" she screeched, making Hermione stiffen in Severus' hands.

Snape paid no more attention to the rest of them and rapidly marched to the hospital wing. On the way there, he murmured reassurances to Hermione that everything would be all right while his mind tried to sort itself out. Severus knew he needed time to figure out what was happening and what was different and to plan what to do. He had to go to the Malfoys to compare notes, but first, he had to ensure Hermione and Lily's boy were safe. His godson, too. As importantly, he had to discover why his daughter was believed to be a muggleborn, facing the magical world seemingly unaware and without protection.

By the time they reached the hospital wing, Hermione was sleeping in his hands, and there was no trace of Poppy. Severus laid his daughter down on a nearby bed, made sure no one was observing them, and began casting. He started with another, more involved diagnostic charm, which fortunately revealed no new issues. Next, Severus used a medical charm to extract three drops of blood, which he quickly encased in conjured crystal and stashed in a pocket. That would be enough for a basic heritage portion, which should confirm what he already knew was true about Hermione. From then on, Snape began casting clearing and healing charms, drawing anything that might be stuck in his daughter's scrapes before sealing them, leaving behind healthy pink skin. He was almost done before a worried Poppy finally jogged into the hospital wing, and he left her in charge of Hermione.

While Severus was reluctant to leave his daughter out of his sight, he needed more information before doing more for her. There had to be a reason he remembered her being a muggleborn in this world, timeline, or whatever this was. He told Poppy the extent of Hermione's injuries, made sure that the Matron had more than enough fresh bruise balm, and forced himself to walk out of the hospital wing, despite every fib

re of his being screaming at him to never leave his daughter out of his sight again.

When he left, Snape turned into his bat form and flew to the dungeons. Mid-flight, he dragged as many relevant memories as time permitted, doing his best to ensure he wouldn't act too much out of the ordinary. Frankly, what those memories revealed was terrible to behold.

What in Merlin's name was wrong with him, and what was Dumbledore's major malfunction!? In this world, Snape had been doing his best to be sacked for incompetence as a teacher or due to his treatment of the students outside of Slytherin, yet Albus, sodding Dumbledore, kept defending him before the Board of Governors. The Headmasters' sycophants among that 'distinguished' group were more than enough to ensure Severus kept the job he loathed no matter what Lucius did to get him sacked.

Snape recalled pure and utter madness that would fit right with Voldemort after his former master lost the plot.

Severus stalked into Slytherin's common room, not needing to fake his anger or foul mood. "Prefects, headcount! Is everyone accounted for?" He demanded.

"Professor, everyone is accounted for!" A crown of dark curls rose from a seat near the largest fireplace in the common room. It turned around, revealing the flawless face of Katerina Fawley, the seventh-year female Prefect.

"I want another count just to be safe!" Severus demanded. "Tipsy!" He barked, and a harried Hogwarts elf popped beside him.

"What does Professor Snappy want?"

"Serve dinner and drinks for my snakes in the common room," Snape snapped while his eyes scanned the room for Draco.

Finding his Godson was easy – no one in the castle had Lucius's patented shade of blond hair. Draco was in a corner, surrounded by the usual suspects – the boy's two 'bodyguards' and Pansy Parkinson, whose parents were eager to get her betrothed to the lad. If that girl turned anything like her mother, or how Severus remembered her... If these two children ever got together, his godfather's vow would surely demand intervention to preserve Draco's sanity or keep him out of Azkaban because the boy would shortly feel like cursing the witch to hell and back.

The first thing that went right tonight was that everyone was indeed accounted for. Severus finally relaxed a bit, no doubt under the effect of the charms and draught he drank earlier. His dark gaze went over his Snakes, looking for anything out of place. He swept out of the common room when he deemed things were in order. Well, as much as they could be with so many witches and wizards stuck in one place.

Snape swept into his quarters and sealed them before adding a few additional charms and hexes to further protect the place. Then he headed for his potion's lab. Brewing always helped him relax and think more clearly. If it wasn't for it and Cissa, he would have turned barking mad a long time ago… well, madder anyway.

Brewing a fresh basic heritage potion took only a couple of hours. Snape could do it with his eyes closed and his mind drifting, which was perfect for the occasion.

First thing first, his children were alive and whole now, if mentally scared. Hermione might need a mind healer after tonight. Merlin knew Snape and Narcissa would need one as well. Their children needed their father, mother, and godparents, not a Dark Lord and his right hand. Scratch that. If the insanity he could recall was anything to go by, they might need Severus and Cissa going out of a well-earned and deserved retirement, too, and that wasn't something he was looking for.

Two hours later, Snape had a reasonable grasp of his mind. However, he would need days to properly sort through all relevant memories of another decades-long life. Now Severus knew for sure this world was very different, yet quite similar to his own. He didn't know if the ritual failed in some way or worked as much as it could. Frankly, considering his and Cissa's state of mind at the end, a disastrous failure because they messed up without noticing was a reasonable outcome.

The heritage potion turned mint green, as it should. Severus bottled five vials of it and let the rest cool down in the cauldron. Either way, this would be more than enough, and if everything went as expected, he would need more precise methods in the future.

Snape placed one open vial on a nearby work table and used his wand to draw three drops of his own blood, which he let fall into the crisp liquid. It rapidly turned dark red with the consistency of blood as it should. After adding three drops of another person's blood, the potion would change color depending on how closely people were related.

Severus fished the crystal with Hermione's blood out of his robes and carefully dispelled it above the vial, letting his daughter's blood into the deep red liquid. The potion bubbled briefly and slowly turned azure: direct relation, parent and a child.

Relief flooded Severus, and he leaned on the table, taking deep breaths. Now he had direct proof that his mind and magic weren't playing tricks on him, making him see what he wanted to see. This, of course, only raised many more questions that Snape needed answered yesterday.

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Part 3

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For once, Severus awoke refreshed after spending a night without nightmares plaguing his dreams. His magic was relaxed and content, soothed by Hogwart's very presence. Long-severed bonds hummed like a distant song, complete and no longer feeling like shards of jagged glass against his very soul.

It took Snape an embarrassingly long time to believe he wasn't high on potions and dreaming of better times. Severus engaged his Occlumency, checking it for cracks after everything that happened last night. While his mind behind its protections was still a mess, his memories had somewhat settled. Honestly, he hadn't felt this good in ages, yet Snape was keenly aware he was still an utter disaster. Sadly, there was no rest for the wicked. Severus had things to figure out, meetings to arrange, and DMLE inquiry to endure.

After a quick shower and inhaling a cup of strong, hot coffee, Snape emerged from his chambers. He found a Malfoy elf waiting for him with an envelope. It had his name written in gold ink with Cissa's distinct cursive.

"Does your mistress want an answer?" Snape asked.

"Missy Cissa awaits response!" The elf squeaked.

"I'll write her momentarily," Severus summoned the letter with a wave of his hand and opened it, quickly scanning its contents.

Narcissa requested his presence tonight to check on her after she fainted during last night's Samhain ball. Simple and to the point, revealing nothing that would make anyone else reading it suspicious. Severus's friendship with the Malfoys was a constant in both their old world and this one.

Snape cracked a rare genuine smile and quickly penned a response, wondering what state he would find Lucius in. He was sure that Cissa was still making up for a decade without her husband, the lucky bastard. While thinking of witches, Severus wondered what happened to Hermioene's mother. Now that his memories were less of a mess, he could clearly recall that only two Bones were left – Amelia Bones, the Director of the DMLE as of last spring, and her niece Susan, a first-year Hufflepuff. There was an opportunity there and danger, too.

And Christine Bones, she had been missing for over thirteen years now. The timeline was close enough for her to have had Hermione before vanishing. He could vaguely recall getting smashed at the Three Broomsticks after a particularly nasty revel he had to participate in soon after becoming a Death Eater. After that… Severus wasn't sure if he remembered sleeping with the witch in this life or if his mind filled in the blanks with bits and pieces from his previous one. If Christine wasn't Hermione's mother, then who was?

"Give this to Narcissa when she isn't busy with Lucius," Snape distractedly gave his answer to the Malfoy elf and headed to check on his godson and snakes.

=DL=

Severus walked into the great hall, followed by his snakes, and his Prefects ensured no one was separated. After last night, he wasn't about to take any chances. The good news was that he found the common room intact, showing no trace of the improvised feast Slytherin House finished there last night. The Hogwarts House Elves had done an excellent job as always, and the Prefects had kept Severus' snakes in line.

Snape kept his expression blank when he found no trace of Aurors on the way to the great hall or in it. The other Houses' tables had clusters of students, with a few Prefects sitting here and there. Thanks to his Occlumency, Severus kept a scowl off his face. Potter was with a bunch of Weasleys, and there was no trace of his daughter yet. He would be checking on her in the infirmary if she was still there.

Dumbledore's throne-like high chair was empty, so he was hopefully neck-deep in Aurors answering pointed questions. Severus headed for the professors' table, noting that most of the staff, save for Hagrid, Quirrel, and Poppy, were already there sipping tea and murmuring. Snape went to join them. He drew his wand, pushed Dumbledore's throne aside, conjured himself a comfortable chair beside Minnie, and sat down heavily. He picked up another cup of strong coffee – the elves knew how he liked it, took a ship, and finally spoke.

"Minerva, is our fearless leader busy with the Aurors?"

"Aurors?" Minnie asked and looked oddly at him.

"Three of your lions nearly got flattened by a Mountain Troll in this very school," Severus calmly pointed out the obvious.
"They're all fine now. Albus decided that there is no reason to involve the Aurory." The no-nonsense way Minerva spoke made Snape choke on a scone he had just bit in.

"Pardon me?" Severus asked in a low, dangerous voice. His daughter nearly died last night. "What about informing the children's parents or guardians?"

"They're all right, Severus, just a few scrapes and a bit of fright. There's no reason to worry anyone about it."

Snape's fingers twitched, and his magic surged, burning to be unleashed. Someone was going to die for this. Likely Dumbledore as soon as it was convenient.

"I see…" Severus trailed off. He really didn't. "Excuse me." He got up and stalked towards his chambers.

=DL=

When he stalked through the Ministry of Magic like a ravenous beast hunting prey, Snape had already connected all the pieces he needed about last night. It should have been obvious; he already knew or suspected what was happening. If his mind was in a better state, he would have connected the dots earlier and might have tracked down Dumbledore to Avada, the wanker.

The Philosopher's Stone was at Hogwarts. Voldemort was not quite dead, thanks to his nasty little soul anchors. Hogwarts was a trap, and Hermione became collateral damage between Dumbledore and Voldemort again. History nearly repeated itself. Frankly, Snape was astonished he hadn't gone full Dark Lord on Dumbledore yet…. That might have been because he took a calming draught before leaving to collect his snakes.

Either way, Severus wasn't going to play Dumbledore's games. Hermione, his godson, and Lily's boy would be safe at Hogwarts, no matter what Snape had to do.

People scattered out of Severus' way. Former students jumped away in fright as if they knew him for the Dark Lord he had become, which was utterly ridiculous. He would never know how Dumbledore or the Board of Governors didn't sack him years ago.

When Snape marched into the Department of Law Enforcement, Aurors and Hit-Wizards paused their work and conversations to stare at him. It was rare, almost unheard of, that Death Eaters, even former and exonerated ones, to willingly walk in here. Those who were his former students were more wary and even outright afraid of him, while the few veterans left from the war threw him hostile looks.

"Is the Director in? There was trouble at Hogwarts last night she must know about," Snape hissed not having to fake his emotions. He wanted to return to the castle, ensuring the children were safe from meddling old bastards and undead Dark Lords.

"Professor Snape," a witch with short amber-colored hair poked her head from a nearby door. What do we owe the dubious honor of your presence?"

"Madam Bones," Snape offered a short bow of respect. According to two sets of memories, Bones was reasonably competent and one of the few people in the ministry who wasn't corrupt. However, those same traits kept her hands tied more often than not.

"Troll. Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore decided that three students nearly getting killed was not worth informing either you or their parents," It was a pure incident that Severus spoke loud enough that everyone in the DMLE could hear him. It was a given that most people here would have children, siblings, or other close relatives studying at Hogwarts.

"My office, now! Explain!" Bones ordered and waved him to follow her.

=DL=

Part 4

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Severus sat before Madam Bones' desk for a few moments to gather his thoughts and decide how much to reveal. Dumbledore's shenanigans over this school year were a given. Should he mention Hermione? Legally claiming her as his daughter would offer her more protection, and that was what mattered. If she was Christine's daughter as well, that might get the Director of the DMLE in their corner, which could be invaluable.

"Talk," Bones demanded as soon as she sat behind her desk and activated a Dicta-quill.

"You need to know a few things about what has been happening at Hogwarts, Director. First, let me reassure you, to the best of my knowledge, your niece is all right."

Amelia's eyes narrowed at that.

"I am not making threats or insinuations, merely stating a fact in light of what I am about to tell you next, Madam Bones," Snape slowly raised his hands placatingly. "Last night, a troll broke in Hogwarts. Before we could locate it and I put it down, it nearly killed three students: the youngest Weasley boy, Harry Potter, and what everyone believed to be a muggleborn witch."

Severus saw Bones' Occlumency shields fall in place as she schooled her face in a blank, professional mask.

"Why am I hearing about that now?" the Director asked mildly, which didn't fool Severus for a second.

"I expected to see the great hall crawling with Aurors this morning. Minerva confided in me at breakfast that our esteemed Headmaster didn't deem last night's events worth reporting either to the DMLE or the parents of the children involved."

The Dicta-quill diligently took notes, while Bones took a few moments to regain control of her emotions.

"Why do I have the nagging suspicion that you have more to tell me?"

"First, hypothetically speaking…" Severus trailed off and raised an eyebrow at the Director.

"Yes, purely hypothetically…" Bones nodded blandly.

"While I carried the witch involved in last night's incident, my magic might have reacted to her own. Hypothetically, a few drops of her blood might have found their way into my hands and purely accidentally fallen into a fresh basic heritage potion I brewed last night to calm my nerves. Hypothetically, of course, the potion might have turned blue."

"Congratulations, it's a girl! Should I pity the witch for ending up with you as a father, Professor Snape?" It was the Director's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I recall being with two witches in the relevant time frame. One of them was a young Death Eater whose name I never learned. The other was Christine."

Amelia blinked a few times at Severus.

"My cousin Christine?" Bones asked.

"Indeed. Either way, I intend to claim the girl and offer her all the protection I can."

"Why would she need protection, Professor Snape?"

"She is friends with Harry Potter, and Dumbledore has an unhealthy interest in the boy. Which brings us to the next thing you need to know. Albus is hiding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone at Hogwarts. One of the protections is a Cerberus, behind a simple wooden door that can be opened with a first-year spell. At the welcoming feast, he announced its location and the threat of painful death to the whole school," Severus happily threw Dumbledore under the proverbial Night Bus.

Amelia took a few deep breaths, cursed quietly, and looked Snape dead in the eye.

"I am afraid to ask, but do you have anything else to report to the DMLE now that you are in a sharing mood, Professor?"

"Albus believes that the Dark Lord isn't gone for good. Knowing that crazy maniac, I might be able to make an educated guess as to why that might be the case."

"Spill!" Bones ordered.

"Horcruxes."

"For Merlin's sake! What is Dumbledore thinking!?"

"I am wondering the same, Director, which is why I am here."

"Do you have any other curses to throw at me today?" Amelia demanded.

"May I suggest someone examine the Dark Lord's past, looking for clues?"

"That's easier said than done. It's not like we know who he really was!" Bones snapped in frustration.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was a Slytherin at Hogwarts during World War Two."

Amelia, her Aurors, and the Unspeakables might do something constructive and allow him to avoid going full Dark Lord again. That wouldn't be good for his children, but then again, he would rather have them somewhat mentally scarred and unhappy than dead. The former could be remedied with time, therapy, and tons of galleons. The latter was usually a permanent state of affairs.

"We are going to have words with Albus Dumbledore and your colleagues, and when we're sure nothing in Hogwarts is going to kill or eat the students, we will bring your daughter to Gringotts for a full Heritage Test," Bones declared. She whipped her wand out and touched her badge. Scrimgeor, Moody, and Proudfoot get to my office now!"

=DL=

Albus shuffled into the great hall at the end of breakfast through one of the side staff doors and unerringly headed for his seat. He got a cup of steaming strong tea, which was chock-full of as much sweet honey that it resembled syrup, and drained half of it in one go. Only after all the sugar gave him a kick did Dumbledore feel more aware and dig into a full English breakfast. He was getting too damn old to do all-nighters after a full day of work.

All those hours he spent investigating how the troll got in and checking the stone's security told him nothing new. As he knew, the poor beast had inside help. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been able to pass through the enchantments, keeping all the wildlife in the Forbidden Forest outside Hogwarts and the surrounding grounds. The culprit was also evident – poor Quirinus now served Voldemort after his unfortunate trip to Albania. Unfortunately, now there was no doubt whatsoever. Voldemort survived that fateful night twelve years ago! Like it or not, now Dumbledore felt he had no other option but to go with the contingencies he had been preparing for Harry Potter.

No one could live while the other survives. Dumbledore wished he was wrong on that point. Using children left a bitter taste in his mouth, yet what was good for Magical Britain or the Magical World as a whole was never what was necessary good for some individuals living in those worlds. Sadly, as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, he was duty and oath-bound to look at the bigger picture. More often than not, he regretted taking on these positions after he had defeated his old friend Gellert, yet the alternatives were worse. Once, Albus stepped away, allowing Gellert to light the world on fire. He was afraid to see what would happen if he stepped down without a worthy successor. Yet, Dumbledore could find no one with the raw power to step in his shoes, possessing the heart and mentality to do at least as well as Albus did.

Years ago, Dumbledore had high hopes for James if the Potter boy matured under Lily's influence. The same was true about their son after he heard the prophecy about Harry.

Instead, all he could do was try to prevent Tom from returning, for no one could stop him otherwise. After that cursed Halloween, Harry could no longer be Dumbledore's successor. He was a weapon to be carefully forged, tempered, and utilized. If fate permitted it, the boy might enjoy a few good years as a student before the inevitable happened. Until then, Albus had to keep their world from imploding and desperately search for a worthy successor.

It wasn't fair to either of them, though it was worse for Harry, who should have been free to enjoy being a child like most of his peers.

Albus sighed and wearily finished his tea.

=DL=

Part 5

=DL=

Hogwarts students were about to leave the great hall for their first classes of the day when the main doors opened, admitting a group of uninvited visitors. Albus was just about to shuffle towards his quarters and sleep until dinner when the guests so rudely interrupted him. He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed due to the lack of warning from the castle itself. If these people were intending harm, he should have been able to sense it when they entered the school's grounds. A handful of people with the proper skills and rare items might have been able to bypass the outer enchantments but not get to the great hall unmolested.

A place like Hogwarts could have immensely powerful magical defenses fed by the magic of countless generations of young witches, wizards, and staff. However, by its very nature as a school, the enchantments and charms protecting the castle and surrounding area had to be more permissible than those of a home. The same was true about the Ministry and Saint Mungo. In contrast, no matter how ancient, the magical defenses of a home could be finetuned to a far greater degree, at the price of them being far less potent.

Albus wanted to slap himself when his mind went on such a tangent. He was too tired to deal with this, yet there were painful indications that today would be even more unpleasant than last night.

Three Auror teams, led by Bones herself, walked between the tables below the professors' tabla. The most concerning part was that Severus walked in with them.

"Amelia, what is the meaning of this disruption?" Albus asked tiredly. He didn't have to put up an old man act today. He was old and damn tired, and it showed.

"Painful death in a third-floor corridor, Albus," Amelia answered in an exasperated tone. "A troll wandering the halls and nearly killing three students. Did I miss yet another reason to be here today?" Bones looked guilessly at him, which didn't fool him for a moment.

Dumbledore sighed and looked at Snape with genuine disappointment. He didn't see or expect something like that today. What was up with his faithful spy?!

"Severus, I am disappointed. You know you've breached the confidentiality clauses by which all Hogwarts staff are bound. That can be grounds for termination," After all, it wasn't the Ministry's job to meddle in Hogwarts affairs. Indeed, such meddling was something no one sane would appreciate. "I am afraid that you will have to face the Board of Governors," Albus added. And if his spy didn't give him an excellent reason for today's headaches, there would be consequences. Perhaps a reminder that Albus was why Severus didn't rot in Azkaban after Voldemort's fall would be in order.

Dumbledore sighed again. He could hardly believe this stupidity coming from Severus. Not to mention that what he would have to do now would create a rift between them that would be hard to heal. Was this the latest incarnation of Severus' temper tantrum after his yearly attempts to get fired kept failing? Perhaps the boy needed a vacation and a trusted mind healer.

"That's between Mr. Snape, you, and the Board, Albus. We are here about more pressing matters," Amelia interrupted. "I need to speak with Madam Pompfrey, the youngest Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, and Ms. Granger. We will remove any danger to the school and its students that might lurk on the third floor, Albus. Anything less will be unacceptable."

This wasn't the time or place for such a conversation when all the students and staff were keenly listening.

"Let us retreat to my office to discuss matters," Albus 'suggested. He slowly got up and gradually let his magic manifest. "Whatever concerns you might have, Madam Bones, we should not disrupt my students!" Dumbledore declared, lacing his voice with just enough power to remind everyone exactly who he was.

"It might be for the best, Headmaster, if the good Aurors check on the children involved in last night's near-tragedy," Snape added lightly. Severus raised his left hand and pointedly glanced at his wrist. "As to my conduct," he shrugged, "Some bonds are more compelling than others," Dumbledore's spy looked at Gryffindor's table, where all three children involved with the Troll last night now sat after Ms. Granger recently returned from the infirmary for breakfast.

Albus felt like pinching the bridge of his nose or banging his head on the table. Was this all because of the vow he had Severus make a decade ago?! Intent was a vital component. Was his spy more bound to protect Harry than Dumbledore believed? If so, that would be both a boon and a problem that must be solved.

Dumbledore cursed the unfortunate timing of this inquisition. His mind was sluggish, and he was too tired to act with his typical political acumen, which was not that great even on the best days. He might have to be heavy-handed in fending off the Ministry's encroachment today. That would cost him soft power and prestige.

"Minerva, please see to it that your three students aren't unduly disturbed and that any questions they answer are proper," Albus said and finally stood up. Let us move to my office," he clapped once with fake joviality. The rest of you have classes to attend. I'll speak with you later, Severus," Dumbledore promised before slowly heading towards his office.

=DL=

Amelia Bones could feel the beginning of a nasty headache tingling behind her eyes. Unsurprisingly, its name and source were Albus-Merlin-damned-Dumbledore.

"Let me get this straight, Albus," Amelia glowered at the ancient Warlock. Dumbledore showed no trace of concern and, instead, kept munching on lemon drops while his eyes twinkled madly. Were those infernal sweets of his potioned? If so, it had to be something really potent, and right now, Amelia was half-tempted to take him up on the offer to eat one or ten. "Nicholas Flamel had concerns about his Philosopher's Stone, so he asked you for help. You two got it in Gringotts, but that wasn't safe enough like the robbery there in the summer demonstrates."

"That's right, Madam!" Dumbledore happily confirmed.

"Then, instead of, I don't know, putting it under Fideolus somewhere or keeping it with you, you placed it in a school full of children, then announced in front of everyone where you hid the damn thing?! Are you going senile, Albus?!" Amelia demanded.

"I am not all-powerful or all-knowing, Amelia," Dumbledore sighed, doing his best tired-old-man impression as if she would buy it! How could she, when the utter bastard intentionally let his control over his magic slip twice to remind them who the most powerful wizard in arguably the whole world was, with all that entailed?

"I make mistakes," Dumbledore continued as if he didn't outright threaten Amelia and her Aurors to behave. "I had hoped that by making such an announcement, no one would venture in that part of the castle, keeping my students safe and Nicholas' stone out of evil hands," another sigh. "I was obviously mistaken, and last night was the proof. I didn't call anyone because I don't have a better-hidden place prepared right now. I would appreciate your discretion until the stone is safe and secure."

The worst thing was that if Amelia brought Dumbledore in front of the Wizengamot, he had the allies needed to walk away with a slap on the wrist. He could also make her life and the continued operations of her department very uncomfortable for no real gain. She knew Dumbledore wouldn't resist if she allowed her anger to rule her and brought him to the DMLE holding cells. Instead, he would use such a play from her to present himself as a victim who made an innocent mistake… and too many damn people would lap it up.

For now, it might be best that Amelia bid her time and made sure that Hogwarts and, by extension, Susan were as safe as possible. After that, she would keep a close eye on the games Dumbledore played at the school, eagerly awaiting the moment he made a grave enough mistake.

"The Cerberus needs to go. You must seal that area of the castle to ensure no child wanders there, or worse, goes intentionally poking around the restricted area. We will be investigating who used the Troll as a distraction and nearly murdered three children, Harry Potter included!" Amelia spoke sharply, in a tone hard enough to inform Dumbledore she wouldn't be bulging on these points.

"I would expect nothing less, as long as you don't disrupt the life and classes of my students more than absolutely necessary," Dumbledore beamed at her.

=DL=

Part 6

=DL=

Half an hour into the first potion class of this life, Severus had to conclude that his counterpart had bungled teaching potions to a terrifyingly astounding degree. His best bet to remain at Hogwarts and ensure Dumbledore's games didn't get his children killed would be to fix this, which would be a major undertaking. Snape made a few mental notes on how to proceed – first, proper evaluation of everyone's skills, then, if necessary, return to the basics, and some mixed remedial classes might be a good beginning. Unsurprisingly, the newest students would be easier to fix, so to speak. Those in OWL and NEWT classes, on the other hand…. Well, it was a mixed blessing that he didn't accept dunderheads in his NEWTs. At the very least, he should be able to ensure his sixth and seventh-year students could pass their exams. Those in the fifth year facing their OWLs would be trickier.

With a plan in place for his teaching career, Severus focused his mind on other matters while watching the little sods like a hawk because he didn't fancy getting blown up or choked by poisonous gas. How they managed to get even simple potions so wrong was sometimes hard to comprehend.

"Mr. Templeton, Ms. Shaw, you put the snake fangs after the aconite, then you stir twice clockwise!" Snape barked, letting some of his old temper show. These were fourth-year Ravenclaws; they should know better, damn it!

As soon as the class ended, Severus wrote another message to Cissa to update her on recent events. Initially, he intended to speak with his daughter privately and then arrange a proper Heritage Test; however, Dumbledore, being obtuse, forced his hand. Now, Snape had to race to protect his children at Hogwarts. He had to face the music against the Governors, combined with the Headmaster being in rare form.

An Auror who didn't outwardly show his disdain for Severus' past as Death Eater came to fetch him while he was clearing up and ventilating the potions' laboratory in preparation for the next class. Snape sealed the door to keep the second-year Slytherin-Gryffindor class from killing themselves in his absence and followed the red-robed wizard.

On the way to an empty classroom near the great hall, Severus had to once again contemplate the idiocy of pitting Slytherins against Gryffindor in potions and other energetic classes. He could recall being angry at that but never caring enough for Dumbledore's reasoning to think deeply about it. Now, Snape had to wonder because one thing was sure: there was no way in hell such classes were meant to try and curb the intense rivalry between those two houses, which often enough spilled into outright hatred after years of constant clashes.

Snape sensed Hermione's agitated magic before he entered the classroom guarded by a pair of Aurors. Severus saw his daughter sitting on a nearby desk, with Proudfoot before her taking notes, and Amelia sitting nearby.

"Professor Snape, we are mostly done here," Amelia said after she saw him enter. Albus was gracious enough to seal that death-trap of a corridor until the thing hidden there could be adequately secured. He also graciously refused my offer to leave Aurors to keep an eye on the area until then," The Director sounded less than thrilled. I've received a better understanding of what you are up to and why."

"Our dear headmaster is an experience, isn't he?" Snape's Occlumency shields had to work overtime to keep his rising temper in check.

"We are done here," Proudfoot announced.

Severus looked around and raised an eyebrow at a familiar tabby cat grooming itself on a desk at the far corner of the classroom. What was Minnie playing at? It didn't matter right now, Snape decided. He had other priorities. He gathered his courage behind his Occlumency shields. He walked to stand near his daughter, but not close enough to intrude into her personal space.

"Ms. Granger, what do you know about the more esoteric sides of magic?" Snape asked gently.

The witch's head snapped up, surrounded by a halo of frizzy hair. That mess was untamable without drowning it in Sleekeazy and, ideally, using a few enchanted hair pieces to keep it from being a menace.

"There's not much I've found in the library, Professor…" Hermione trailed off.

Severus silently cursed Albus. Irma has been nagging the Headmaster to add many books since before Snape became a Professor. However, Dumbledore was content to remove, not add, books in his single-minded pursuit to ensure that Hogwarts would never again produce another Tom Riddle. The direct consequence was a sharp decline in academic standards and a gradual curtailing of offered classes. If the Ministry wanted to ensure nothing more than average wizards and witches came out of the school with the rough diamond needing polishing, they couldn't have done it better themselves.

Snape's past self didn't give a damn. He was very much invested in changing this, but that could wait.

"Miss Granger, when I carried you to the infirmary last night, my magic reacted to your own. That usually happens only between close relatives," Severus explained the relevant facts.

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, opened her mouth to say something, and closed it without a peep.

"Do you know if you might be adopted, dear?" Amelia asked in a motherly voice. Snape vaguely recalled her using it on her niece a few times.

Hermione nodded rapidly, making her hair shake like a mane, but said nothing.

"The most expedient way to find the truth will be to visit Saint Mungo or Gringotts. The bank can be much more discrete," Severus suggested. He looked at Minerva, whose cat form had frozen with a raised paw midway through grooming, and stared at him with huge eyes. The feline animagus shook herself and jumped off the desk, transforming in midair to land lightly on her feet.

"You've been keeping secrets, Severus," Minnie looked bemused between Snape and his daughter. "You have my permission to bring Ms. Granger for a Heritage Test. I think I will join you as her guardian while in school."

Minerva gave Severus a pointed look. They would have one of their not-so-rare meetings to discuss things, gossip, and raid Minnie's stash of Scottish whiskey.

"Do we have to? Now? What kind of test?!" Hermione blurted out.

"The magic kind," Severus noted, earning himself a painfully familiar look of pure exasperation. "I think Gringotts would be best. Let us not make more of a circus than we have to."

"Isn't Gringott's a bank?" Hermione inquired, her ravenous hunger for knowledge rearing its head and pushing her obvious distress aside.

"They are much more than a mere bank, Ms. Granger. If you would kindly join us?" Severus asked. "It might be best that we visit your parents after the test, don't you think, Minerva?"

"I can sidelong us there when we are done. What do you intend, my boy?"

"To keep Ms. Granger here safe."

=DL=

Minerva gently led Hermione to her office, which was closest, so they could use her floo to get to the Leaky Cauldron. From there, it was just a stroll to the bank.

"A glamor or two might be in order," Severus suggested when they piled into Minnie's office. Bones was with them, followed by an Auror security detail.

"You are correct, Professor Snape. A circus is to be avoided for as long as possible," Amelia noted.

A few quick spells made everyone look like nondescript witches and wizards, and a weak notice-me-not would further ensure most people wouldn't glance twice at them. The Aurors went first, followed by the Director. A nervous Hermione picked up a bit of floor powder with a shaking hand before throwing it into the fireplace, betraying her nervousness. At that moment, Severus wanted to pull her in a hug and never let go. However, he knew trying that right now was a bad idea. His daughter barely knew him and didn't have the most favorable impression of him. On that account alone, Snape felt like finding a way to get hold of his past self from this world so he could Crucio the bastard into insanity.

At least their brief journey to Gringotts was uneventful. They passed by throngs of witches and wizards outside and walked into the bank, avoiding the relatively few clients at this early hour. Severus led the way to a free register and calmly greeted the Goblin teller.

"We are here for a Heritage Test and would appreciate discretion," He paused, making a decision. "Make that two tests."

Snape had been the head of the Prince family for so long that he all but forgot that in this world, his counterpart hadn't claimed his dubious birthright. If it wasn't for Grandfather deciding on his deathbed that a half-blood was better than the name and family magic dying out, the opportunity to further protect Hermione in this way wouldn't exist. Naturally, this meant more complications and headaches in the future. Severus recalled avoiding pureblood circles, including the presence of respectable half-bloods like the plague in this life. Back in his world, he wasn't particularly thrilled at all the social games and expectations burdening him and, more importantly, his daughter.

The Goblin teller gave them all one long, hard look before nodding. He jumped from his high seat and waved them to follow. The Goblin led them to a ritual chamber two floors below the bank's lobby, where a pair of armored guards stood at attention, holding axes taller than them.

An old Goblin wearing dark purple robes embroidered with runes walked from a nearby door, carrying a sheathed ritual dagger.

"Who wishes to be tested?" the Goblin elder demanded gruffly.

Severus stepped forward and removed his glamour with a gesture.

"My daughter and I would like to be tested, Elder."

Minnie ushered Hermione forward until she stood beside her father.

"You two with me, then. The rest of you can observe from outside. Do not cross the ritual circles unless instructed to!" The Goblin barked at them. He went to the sealed door behind the guard and placed a hand on it. A pulse of visible magic went out from the point of contact, making the whole door glow with silver light before it swung open without a sound.

The Elder walked into a dark chamber. Crystals came to life, illuminating the ritual room with soft purple light.

"Ms. Granger, do as instructed. The Elder will require a few drops of your blood. The ritual dagger he'll use will heal your hand as soon as it is done," Severus did his best to sound reassuring. "You are going to see some interesting magic unique to Gringotts."

That was enough to make Hermione perk up. She gathered her Gryffindor courage and walked up to the ritual circles.

"Come here, young one, and give me your hand," The Elder pointed across an altar at the center of the ritual circles. A simple bowl of Goblin silver stood on a low platform in front of it – it was just high enough to make it comfortable for Goblins and young children to use.

Hermione took a few deep breaths, held her head high, and walked to join the Goblin. She offered a sacking hand and closed her eyes. The Elder's clawed fingers took Hermione's tiny hand and turned it palm down. He sliced into her flesh with a single, rapid motion. Hermione gasped and struggled in the Elder's grip, who held her hand in place for a few moments. More than a few drops of blood fell into the bowl before he let her go. Hermione stumbled back and cradled her hand to her chest, looking warily at the Goblin, who expertly flicked the ritual knife. All the blood on it fell into the bowl as well.

While Hermione looked at her hand, seeing no trace of a cut on it, the Elder began to chant. The blood within the bowl bubbled and, within moments, turned into a crimson vapor that rose above the altar. It swirled like smoke in the wind before turning into a helix-like image. Golden strands of magic created a scroll on the blank face of the altar behind the bowl. The helix spun, absorbing all the blood vapor, which condensed into a solid structure that suddenly fell on the parchment in droplets of blood.

"There is power in names, Ms. Granger and our own magic is in our very blood and flesh," Severus quietly told his daughter, who had forgotten that her hand had been just cut and stared enchanted at the magic at work before her.

The droplets falling onto the scroll formed into letters that burned themselves into it.

The words Hermione Jean Granger etched themselves on the parchment. Two crimson lines flowed down from the name, bursting into more letters that burned with magic.

Father: Severus Tobias Snape, heir of House Prince

Mother: Christine Ana Bones, heiress of House Bones, deceased

More lines burst from those two names, creating a tapestry proclaiming Hermione's direct ancestors.

Hermione eventually spun around while the magic was still running its course and looked at Madam Bones, who had also removed her glamour.

"We are cousins, dear. Christine's mother was my Aunt Helene."

Severus suppressed a sigh of relief. This was good, but even though it meant even more complications. It would certainly be less of a headache if Hermione's mother were a Death Eater with all the strings attached. Severus would bring more than enough trouble in her life from that corner.

Hermione looked unsure between her newfound father and cousin.

"Come here, child. Give me a hug…" Amelia opened her hands, speaking soothingly to the young witch, who threw herself into the awaiting hug like a bludger.

"Who is next? Time is money!" The Goblin Elder growled. He had already summoned the scroll with Hermione's ancestry and bound it with a silver ribbon.

Snape walked into the ritual circles, feeling a bit peeved that his daughter ran into Amelia's hands instead of him. It only now dawned on him that he would be stuck with the Director of the DMLE in his life from now on. That witch didn't have much family left – only her niece, Susan, and the girl's father, the Director's younger brother. Steven Bones had been stuck at Saint Mungo beside Frank and Alice Longbottom for over a decade.

"What are you up to, Severus? You are aware of your heritage," Minerva pipped up.

"This is the first and critical step of claiming it," Snape reminded her. He walked and faced the Elder, leaning forward to offer his hand.

Severus barely registered a sting in his palm. He was too busy calling forth his magic and the now dormant connection with the Prince family magic. His was a rare case where he was much more powerful than the cumulative family magic slumbering within his veins. The Prince family was Pureblood, and until Snape's mother went astray, highly respected, yet small and relatively new. They didn't have the centuries upon centuries of history and magic that made many old families such powerhouses. Nevertheless, the family magic was an old companion and, when augmented by his own power, very damn useful.

As soon as the ritual was complete and Severus' ancestry freshly etched upon an enchanted parchment, he let his magic run wild. It spilled out around him in a vortex of dark power, pushing everyone save for Hermione back. His daughter basked into it, looking around in wonder and content.

"Your father is claiming his place as the head of his mother's family," Severus could barely hear Amelia explain to Hermione over the hum of his eager magic. "Doing it this way, here, is not strictly speaking necessary. However, claiming his House and the legal protections that come with it does require recognition from magic, Gringotts, and the Ministry. Doing it this way is the most expedient and straightforward…"

"By birthright, blood, and magic, I lay claim to my rightful heritage," Seveurs chanted. His family magic awoke as he spoke, sending tendrils through his whole being. The healed slice on his palm opened, freely spilling blood, which burst into crystals of crimson ice that dissolved into moths of magic.

Severus could feel the Prince's family magic probe and prod him. It was evaluating him, judging his magic, bloodright, and intent.

"I lay a claim on the name of Prince. I claim the House of Prince," Severus declared, sure of intent.

He and Hermione were the future of the Prince line. Without them, not just the name and lineage but also the young family magic would end, and that was something the family magic would rather avoid. He could feel the Prince's magic stretch and eagerly caressed Hermione's own. His daughter gasped, and her joyful laughter echoed throughout the chamber.

Their family magic settled within their blood and the marrow of their bones, welcoming them.

On the top of Severus' heritage parchment, the Prince family magic surged, seeping into the scroll.

Severus Tobias Snape, of House Prince, it read. He knew that a similar change just happened on Hermione's parchment, which briefly glowed with the power of their family magic before it retreated within them, awake and aware.

Severus sighed in relief that it all worked out like he had hoped and drew his power within himself. He could hear gasps of relief from the Aurors and even the Goblin Elder. When he looked at them, they were all watching him warily, with gazes holding the appropriate amount of respect.

"I can honestly say I didn't see this coming," Amelia sighed.

"My secrets have secrets, Director," Severus noted. "Elder, I would like an audit of all House Prince accounts, vaults, and properties registered with Gringotts by the end of next week."

"Gringotts will be honored to assign you an account manager and handle your affairs, Warlock," The Elder bowed, showing the respect that only raw power could elect among his kind. "Do you have any other requests for today?"

"That is all," Severus shook his head while carefully observing his daughter.

Hermione shook herself out of a daze and looked around in wonder. She touched her chest with a hand and sighed in contentment.

"It's like a piece of me I never knew missed is now right where it has to be…" Hermione murmured.

"That's our family magic accepting us," Severus said. "It is high time we informed your parents of recent developments."

Hermione bit her lip, looking distressed at the prospect.

"Can we not tell them about the troll or Cerberus?"

"That's the kind of adventures your parents and I would dearly wish to know about, and better yet, for you to avoid like the plague, Hermione," Severus chided. He looked at Amelia and Minnie, then glanced at Bones' security detail. It was sure that the truth of what happened today would leak sooner rather than later, and when it was said and done, that wasn't a bad thing. However… "Director Bones, can we," he nodded at Hermione, "count on a bit of discretion about today's events?"

"I'll make sure of it, Professor Snape," Bones turned around and looked pointedly at her Aurors. "You will not enjoy the consequences if I see even a hint of this in the Prophet, am I clear?" She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Hermione. "Dear, I hope you will write when things settle down. Susan, my niece, is a Hufflepuff in your year. You are cousins as well. I am sure she would love to meet you. Professor Snape, Minerva, I'll be seeing you around," Bones ushered her Aurors away with those parting words.

"Severus, I think a spot of strong tea in one of Leaky's private rooms might do us all good before we meet with Hermione's other parents," Minnie suggested.

Snape nodded at the suggestion. He knew there was a good reason he was kind of friends with the annoying witch.