[Summary] Who is Hermione? No one knows her real name or where she came from. Her handler has always been Severus Snape, who has trained her since she was a small child to be the perfect agent to keep Harry Potter alive despite all the things and people working against him. The greatest mystery of all, however, is one even Hermione doesn't know: her own past.

A/N: Uh… been feeling uninspired on a lot of fronts. Sorry.

Beta Love: The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01

A Day in the Life of a Spy

A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history. - Mahatma Gandhi

"There you go, young lady," Amelia Bones chuckled as she pulled the miniature robes into place over the young girl's petite frame. "Ready to go?"

The little girl, tightened her grip on the squirming kitten in her arms, and strangely the little orange and gold fluffball settled, purring happily.

"Any lucky getting her to let go of the little cub?" a younger male wizard asked.

"No Ashgrove," Amelia chuckled. "I think that those two are going to be thick as thieves. I'm pretty sure it's a familiar bond."

"With a Nundu cub? Seriously?" Ashgrove sighed. "I didn't even think they could be familiars."

"Just because no one has survived to tell the tale, but she seems to be quite immune," Amelia snorted, watching the cub lick, lick, lick the little girl's giggling face. "Besides, she's already named him."

"Oh? What, pray tell, did she come up with?" Ashgrove asked.

"Crookshanks," the witch laughed. "Don't ask. She likes it, and he seems to think it's his name now."

Ashgrove slumped. "What am I going to tell the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures— that I lost their Nundu cub because a child found the cage and decided to play with it?"

"They already know," Bones laughed. "Went and registered her the in the Familiar Division this morning."

"Why am I always the last to hear these things? Ashgrove muttered.

"Your husband isn't the head of the Department who woke up with a young witch plunking down a Nundu cub on his chest saying 'Kitty Crookshanks, say good morning!' and have him bolt out of bed thinking he was going to die of some virulent disease." Amelia smiled as the little girl tied a pink ribbon around the Nundu's neck and giggled. "Couldn't ask for a better guardian. That Nundu is going to be big enough to ride in a few years. She'll have her own ready-made battlecat."

Ashgrove rubbed the area between his eyes. "How do you know she's immune? It's a Nundu!"

The Nundu breathed a black cloud of disease into the child's face, and she just giggled. "Bad kitty. Your breath stinks. Would you like a mint?" She unwrapped a white and red striped candy and stuck it into the little Nundu's mouth. "Ammy says not to breathe clouds in people's faces, ok?" She clamped her hand over the cub's muzzle.

Crookshanks mrowled and lay on his back, inviting her hands in for a belly rub.

"Nevermind, I'll be back in my office, rewriting everything we know about Nundu," Ashgrove muttered, shuffling off to his office.

"Help me towel off Crooks, ya?" Amelia invited.

"Okay!" the girl agreed, grabbing a fluffy towel and setting to task, rubbing the cub vigorously until his fur was puffed out like a Puffskein.

"Mrowl?" Crooks meowed, looking a little dizzy.

"Time to put on his safety collar, love," Amelia said, handing the girl the bright green familiar registration collar.

"Okay," the girl said, taking it. "Sit, Crooks. I have to make you pretty."

"Mrowl," the Nundu complained as she set about putting the collar around his neck. She carefully latched it, shoving her fingers in between the collar. "See? Hand fits. So you can't choke yourself like Andy on a fish bone."

Amelia snorted. "Hermione, how did you know about Andy choking on a fish bone?"

The girl looked up at her with a puzzled expression. "Everyone knows about that, Ammy," Hermione said. "He tells us the story every day during lunch break."

"You, Hermione, are entirely too observant," Amelia said with a smile. "That is why we have to pair you with someone who is just as cunning and bright as you are."

Hermione hugged Crooks again. "You won't take away Crooks?"

"No, love," Amelia reassured her. "Crooks is with you for good."

Hermione smiled, releasing her death grip on the feline.

"Good thing Nundu are remarkably resilient," Amelia mused, scratching the cub between the ears.

"Crooks is a cockroach!" Hermione announced brightly.

"What?"

"Mr Jenkins said cockroaches are survivalists!" Hermione answered. "Crooks will survive too!"

Amelia chuckled. "Indeed he will."

"Do you think if someone cut off his head he would live like a cockroach?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

"Okay, I think someone needs to pay a little less attention to Mr Jenkins," Amelia said, pulling Hermione to her. "Let's go to your class and then we can meet your new family, okay love?"

"Okay, but I don't want to stay with them if they don't like Crookshanks," Hermione said, her face scrunching up.

Amelia hugged her warmly. "Not to worry. If anyone can accept a disease-breathing feline, he can."

Hermione beamed.

"You remember what I taught you about how to walk with him?" Amelia asked.

Hermione nodded excitedly. She pulled out a leather clip leash and attached it to Crook's collar. "Come on, Crooks. Let's be in a fashion show!"

Hermione and Crooks proudly strolled down the hall and out of the hidden office areas. Amelia snickered to herself, trying to contain her amusement at the young witch's enthusiasm. Fashion show? she thought to herself. Now where did she pick THAT up? Amelia knew that Hermione was of the age where she picked up everything. She wanted to touch everything, hold everything, and imitate everyone. She was perfectly willing to be friends with everyone and tell them about her day in great detail, if only they would just hold still and let her tell her story.

Amelia looked into the open classroom and chuckled as each of the children they had rescued as foundlings sat in a circle and shared their adventures in the morning debriefing. The debriefing was commonplace every morning and evening. Each child would recall what they remembered from their dreams or their night, trying to recall it in the most vivid detail as they could remember. It would prepare them for a time when the debriefings were real. By then, they would be old hands at it.

Each child had been a rescue, either found in abusive homes or had been left abandoned. Some of them came from orphanages. The goal of the program was to prevent highly magical, gifted children from becoming the next Tom Riddle, but the results were proving to be something they had not expected. They had formed a tightly-knit community from within the Unspeakables, and many of them had become like their real children. Instead of having one nuclear family, they had the entire network of Unspeakables as their surrogate parents, teachers, and mentors, and amongst the other children, they had peers.

Each child was given the utmost of love, care, and support that any healthy child should have during their first years, and by the age of five, which Hermione now was, they were paired up with the person(s) would be their parent, mentor, and most trusted compatriot— learning what they were the strongest at without the use of their magic until they were eleven. From there, they were given the choice of going to one of the magical schools or apprenticing and continuing their one-on-one mentoring within the Unspeakables.

Hermione, however, was a very special case. She had been found abandoned in a forest with nothing but a soil-caked quilt around her. Had she been a normal child, they would likely not have found her, but somehow the little witch had been born with her magic channels wide open, and she had used them to summon a bottle and replace her nappy. That surge of accidental magic had brought the Unspeakables to her, and they had taken her into their care on the spot.

There were other children, such as Damien O'Connor, who were born with a tendency to accidentally set things on fire. His parents, Muggles, had thrown him to the church, calling him, ironically, a demon spawn. The Unspeakables had rescued the baby boy and placed him with the Finnigan family. Catrìona and Padraic, members of the quite large family of Finnigans, had been serving as Unspeakables since what seemed like time immemorial, but exposure to a cursed artifact had rendered Catrìona barren. She and her husband had joyfully taken Damien in and adopted him.

There were others, such as the raven-haired, emerald-eyed boy, Harry Potter, that had been rescued for entirely different reasons: familial abuse, near-starvation, and general neglect. One such episode had caused the boy to release a potent blast of magic that had alerted the Unspeakables to his accidental magic in a purely Muggle subdivision. They found him wrapped so tightly in a swaddling cloth that the boy could barely move. He had then been unceremoniously stuffed away in the cupboard under the stairs like a busted vacuum cleaner. To top it off, there were multiple layers of odd spells that had been placed upon him ranging from tracers to magic dampeners.

At first, they hadn't known who he was. He had been a magical child in need, and the family — the Dursleys— had practically thrown the sobbing boy into their arms, telling them to take the "freak" away to be with his own kind. They obviously knew of wizardkind, but they also expressed a clear hatred for it. Why they were allowed to remain un-Obliviated, however, was completely unknown. They had taken the child, washed him up, fed him the first good meal he'd probably had in days, and did a physical examination on him as he slept. It was only then they realised it was Harry Potter— the Boy-Who-Lived.

Horrified that the sole survivor of Voldemort's killing curse had been left to cry alone in a tiny cupboard, Amelia promptly made him a ward of the Unspeakables, had the rather large collection of tracers spells on him stripped, and he, too, joined with Hermione in the growing community of former-outcasts. Alas, the identity of whoever had placed the various spells on the Potter boy remained, thus far, unknown.

Disturbing information gathered by and known only to the Unspeakables revealed that Death Eaters appeared to be steadily dying off, but were not being taken out by the Aurors or their counterparts in the Department of Mysteries. It seemed that anyone who had taken the Dark Mark— anyone that had a physical or magical tie to the man who had called himself the Dark Lord Voldemort were being found dead with no indication whatsoever that foul play had been involved.

A familiar drape of pale blond hair caught Amelia's eye and she turned to see the distinctive form of Lucius Malfoy walking into the classroom from the other side.

"Good morning, children," he purred.

"Good morning, Mr Malfoy!" the children chimed together.

"Are you excited about today's lesson?"

The gathered children nodded eagerly.

"Magic is all about potential, and that is something we attempt to quantify," Lucius began, "or rather measure with something called Magical Theory. If you have wet hair, how would you measure it?"

Hands waved.

"Yes, Boyd?"

"Wring it out into a measuring cup?"

"Not bad, not bad," Lucius said with a nod, "but what happens with what is still left in the hair?"

Puzzled faces and whispers spread through the class.

Lucius smiled. "It would be very difficult for us to measure the amount of water left in the hair. That leftover water is like potential. We know it is there, but we cannot always know precisely how much. Air, too, is like potential. It is all around us. We breathe it in to survive, yet we cannot see it. That does not mean it is not there, yes?"

The children nodded.

Lucius paused and looked down to find a Nundu cub contentedly chewing away on one of his dragonhide boots.

"Sorry, Mr Malfoy!" Hermione quickly apologised, pulling the teething cub back against her into a hug. "Don't be a pest to Mr Malfoy, Crooks. He likes his appearance to be very proper."

"Mrowl," Crooks protested, but settled into her arms.

Lucius arched an elegant brow, conjured a thick rawhide snitch, handed it to the happy cub, and then smoothly continued on with his lecture. "So, today we are going to explore potential. We can start with heat and things that can become hot but are not always so. Can any of you think of something that isn't always hot that could be?"

"Laundry!" one of the children said. Giggling spread through the room.

"Yes, well, that isn't quite what I mean," Lucius chuckled.

"A teapot!" another child said.

"Mmm, close," Lucius said. "Why is the teapot hot?"

Silence.

One hand raised, waving.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"The teapot is hot because you pour hot water into it to brew tea," she said shyly.

"Good, and how does that water get hot?" Lucius asked.

"You put a fire under it!" Damien blurted out. "Mum puts her water kettle over the fire."

"Very good," Lucius praised. "Water has the potential to be hot, but it does not get that way without help. Magic is the same way. We must learn what makes our magic become active. When you are older, that will be done using wands. Now, because you have all been attentive, I think we can have a little fun while learning today."

All the children instantly perked.

"You all have your familiars, yes?"

"Yes, Mr Malfoy!"

"One thing familiars can help us with, other than doing tasks such as bringing us items or even helping to deliver mail, if you happen to have an owl, is help you tap into your potential. You can, when your bond is strong enough, actually channel your magic through your familiar as you would yourself, and this is a very special and powerful benefit to having a true familiar instead of a pet. Now, have any of you experienced anything special with your familiar?"

A hand waved almost immediately.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Hedwig used to be my stuffed owl," Harry said proudly. "And now she wakes me up every morning so I'm not late."

Another hand waved.

"Yes, Damien?"

"Rochester fetches me cheese from the kitchen when mum thinks I'm sleeping," Damien confessed.

Lucius frowned, a somewhat concerned look on his face. "A familiar picks up your emotions and your needs, but it is important to do them the service of picking up on their needs and their emotions too, yes?"

"Yes, Mr Malfoy," the children chimed in.

"Does anyone here know how to tell the difference between a familiar and a responsive pet?" Lucius asked.

"There is a bond between your magic if it is a familiar," a young red-headed witch said.

"Correct, Gwendolyn," Lucius answered. "What else?"

"A familiar can share senses with you," Hermione answered. "Thoughts, smells, vision."

Lucius nodded. "Has Crooks shared those with you?"

Hermione nodded shyly. "He really likes salmon rather than tuna, and sometimes I get dizzy when he chases spiders and bugs."

Lucius chuckled. "As your bond grows stronger, you will be able to better filter what you want to sense and what you don't. However, there are times you do not want to block them out. It could truly save your life. Does this make sense?"

The children whispered amongst each other.

"Like how Cheeky here senses danger?" a young boy asked, lifting up his ground squirrel.

"Yes, like that," Lucius said with a nod. "Now, not everyone has a familiar, and that is okay. You can have a wonderful and strong partnership with an animal without it sharing the bond with you. So if you run across those outside of here that do not have a familiar, do not think they are lesser people. A familiar bond is very special. We are allowed to keep them with us where other animals are not allowed— even in schools and at the Ministry. Because of this, we must be very careful that we do not scare others. Jessica, for example, befriended a gryphon kit. This is a very special animal but can be very dangerous to those they do not know. It is her job, and ours, to teach our familiars who to trust and behave properly around. We don't want to unnecessarily scare people, right?"

"Right!" the children chimed.

"Okay. Today, I want you to pick a toy that your familiar would like from the room, but don't pick it up," Lucius instructed. "I want you to sit right here and think really hard on that object. What does it look like? Does it smell? Focus that you want it, but don't forget to think about why. You don't want to startle your familiar or accidentally hurt them, okay?"

"Okay!"

"See if you can get them to fetch it to you," Lucius instructed. "For those of you with small animals that cannot fly, please do not choose Mr Binkie Bear from the top shelf."

The children giggled and nodded back to him.

"Okay, go!" Lucius said, and the children set to work. He walked over to where Amelia was sitting. "Enjoying the class, boss?"

Amelia smiled. "Always, Lucius. You have a real way with children. I think if people really knew how good you were with them, we'd have people falling over in shock all across Britain."

Lucius' lips curved upward. "Tell that to Narcissa. She is convinced that I couldn't teach a rat to find cheese, let alone our own son."

Amelia snorted. "I know you wanted to have Draco learn with the group here. Is Narcissa still in her protective phase?"

Lucius sighed. "She never stopped. Mind you, her parents were on par with mine for child abuse in the name of Pureblood supremacist values, so she is still… overcompensating. She sits with him even when the tutor comes each day, isolating him, discouraging him from being social with other children, and I dread what it will do for the boy growing up without knowing friends—peers even."

Amelia frowned. "Perhaps, we can move one or two of the classes to the public classrooms in the Ministry, out of the private Unspeakable areas. There is a nice garden courtyard up there that we can teach in. The kids will enjoy it, and you could bring Draco and Narcissa too. She'll be right there to observe so she won't have to worry. He will get to socialise and Narcissa shouldn't feel the need to be on guard quite so much."

Lucius gave a small nod of appreciation. "I would find that to be a great relief."

A loud crash came from the classroom, and Lucius spun and returned. He scanned the room, and all the other children were pointing towards a rather sheepish-looking child holding a raccoon covered in every colour of the rainbow's worth of finger paint. The child had a number of multi-coloured pawprints splattered over his face. The raccoon had Mr Binkie Bear in his mouth.

Every other familiar in the room was looking rather appalled, sitting timidly in their person's lap, almost as if to say "oh, no, you're not pinning this on me!"

"Mr Henderson," Lucius drawled.

All the children ooooohed at Lucius' use of the boy's last name.

"Which part of do not go after Mr Binkie Bear on the top shelf did you not understand?"

"Ooooooo!" the other children heckled as the unfortunate boy blushed beet red, making the colorful pawprints on his face stand out all the brighter.

Meanwhile, Amelia Bones discreetly snickered into her robe sleeve, trying not to laugh too loudly as Lucius pulled out his wand and swiftly cleaned up the rather substantial mess.

"Hermione, this is Severus Snape," Amelia introduced. "He's going to be your guardian from now on."

Hermione stared up at the tall wizard. "You're serious."

A beat.

"What?"

"You're serious," Hermione repeated. "Would you like to pet Crookshanks? He makes me smile." She held out the Nundu cub with some effort.

Severus knelt down to be more on her level. He gently lifted the Nundu cub out of her hands and pet him. Crooks purred happily and slobbered all over his fingers. Severus lifted one eyebrow in amusement.

"Kitty likes you," Hermione concluded. "I will like you too."

Snape's expression softened. "I am honoured."

Hermione scrunched up her face. "Kitty has halo-toe-sus. Sometimes he needs a mint."

"Well it is good that I am a potion master," Snape mused. "I'm sure I can come up with something to rectify kitty's dragon breath."

Hermione perked and let go of Amelia's hand and glomped Snape's leg. "I like you. I think Crooks and me will keep you."

Snape exchanged glances with Amelia. Amelia winked at him.

"Crooks and I, Hermione, dear," Amelia corrected.

"Crooks and I shall keep you," Hermione restated dutifully, lifting her chin.

"Well," Snape said. "However could I refuse such a charming offer?"

Hermione smiled at him.

"Are you a priest?" Hermione asked. "Do you take concussions?"

Snape just blinked at her.

Amelia chortled into her sleeve. "No, Hermione. He's a potions master."

Hermione seemed to concentrate very hard. "Do potions masters take concussions?"

"Confessions," Snape corrected, "and no. I do not take confessions."

"But, what if I did something and needed to confess?" Hermione asked with some concern.

"You will be able to tell me, Hermione," Snape reassured.

"Even if you aren't a priest?"

Snape arched a brow. "Even if I am not a priest."

Hermione took Crookshanks back and laid him over her shoulder. "Okay! Crooks and I will trust you with our concussions."

"Confessions."

"Con-fesh-ons." Hermione repeated.

"Though, technically, you can also trust me with your concussions," Severus mused.

Amelia gave Severus the eye.

"Will you be my master?" Hermione asked, tugging on his robes. "Will I have to wear all black and become a priest?"

Severus extended his hands to her. "Perhaps, in the future you will be my apprentice, but for now, there are other things that need taking care of."

"Crooks can come too?"

"Crooks can come too," Severus promised.

"Will I get to call you daddy?" Hermione asked, her bright grey eyes wide and hopeful.

"If you wish it," Severus replied softly, a trace of pain flashing across his face for the briefest of instants. But then he smiled.

Hermione hugged his leg tightly. "Crooks says you're trustworthy. I trust you."

Severus gently placed his hand on her long black curls. "Well, at least no one will question your being related to me with that hair. The eyes, however—"

"The adoption has been known to take of that," Amelia said with a nod. "Mind you, a few cases has been known to give the adoptee strangely familiar proclivities to their adoptive parent's personality.

"Amelia, are you telling me that she'll become the second snarky git just because she'll be related to me by both blood and magic?"

Amelia shrugged. "Possibly? Maybe you will end up manifesting some new qualities too?"

Severus snorted. "Glorious." He looked down at Hermione and nodded. "Are you ready?"

Hermione clasped his robes tightly. "Sev-er-russ," she said to Crookshanks. "Be nice to Sev-er-russ." She looked up at him and smiled. "We're ready."

The moment Severus and Hermione came out of the magical Adoption Chamber, Severus knew that something significant had happened. The soulful emptiness that had plagued him for most of his life seemed far and gone. Instead, as he looked into the now black eyes of his adopted daughter, he knew there was one person he could never let down.

Whether she truly knew the significance of the adoption, he wasn't sure, but he knew she was just as hungry for a loving family as he had been for that painful and most glorious trust she gave him. He had never expected to see such a thing. He had never expected to become anyone's whole world. He had never thought that anyone so innocent would believe him worthy of such a priceless gift.

Her hair had changed. The riotous, bushy curls had tamed into a very subtle wave that was almost straight. Her skin had become paler, much like his. His own hair no longer appeared greasy, but was lustrous and full with a healthy glow that many a Muggle luxury shampoo maker would've come beating down his door begging for him to endorse their product. He had gained her pearlescent, perfect teeth but she had gained his characteristic elongated canines that had people suspecting him a vampire from practically day one.

Hermione had looked in a mirror and then hugged Crookshanks, crying out delightedly, "Look Crooks! I have fangs just like you!"

"Mrowl!" Crooks clearly approved of the subtle changes in his mistress.

Severus had never thought someone would be happy to have elongated canine teeth, but Hermione seemed to think anything that made her more like him was more of a reason to celebrate.

"Family now!" she told Crooks. "We are Snapes! You are now Crookshanks Snape!"

The Nundu had tilted his head and gave Hermione a rough lick with his raspy tongue, causing her to giggle.

"Now we both have families," Hermione said to Crooks. She twirled the cub around until they were both dizzy.

Hermione picked up Crooks, and Severus picked her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. "Where we going?"

"Home," Severus replied.

"Home," Hermione whispered, hugging him tight. "We have a home."

Minerva was the only one allowed in the wards of his property on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, so it was no surprise for him to see her waiting on the porch with fresh iced tea and a tin of homemade biscuits. She had been the one professor that he had been able to "run" to after Dumbledore had forcibly sworn him to secrecy about his near-demise via werewolf in the Shrieking Shack, courtesy of a hateful Sirius Black on one awful full moon night. Minerva had, unfortunately, been unable to do anything against the headmaster's express orders, but she did give him a desperately-needed place to escape to. It had helped quite a bit, but he hadn't been able to stay there forever. Trouble seemed to find him, and it always seemed to know the ideal time to strike, when he was alone and there were no potential witnesses around.

Even so, Severus knew he was just as guilty of holding onto grudges as the Marauders had been in pursuing him. So many years had passed where it was customary to try and hex the shite out of each other at every possible opportunity that neither party was entirely blameless. Still, there were many times when he had just wanted to be left alone only to have himself tripped, his shoes glued to the floor, his pants exposed, and a hundred other things done to make the chant "Greasy Snivellus" a far more common event than a kind or even neutral word.

Hermione, however, was a different story. He was determined that she would have the kind of upbringing that he himself had been denied. She would always know it was safe to come home. She could come to him with both confessions or concussions, and he would be there to soothe that pain away. He would be the man his father had most definitely not been. Hermione would not curse the name Snape as he had, and now, neither would he. Hermione was now a Snape.

"Severus," Minerva greeted. "Did all go well?"

Severus paused at the entry to the garden and adjusted his wards. "Perfectly," he replied, setting Hermione down on the ground so she could explore. "Hermione, this is Minerva McGonagall. She is a teacher at the magical school near here. Hogwarts."

"Hi," Hermione said, clinging a little to Severus' trousers. She and Crooks peered at the elder witch with one part curiosity and one part evaluation. "Do you like kitties?"

Minerva smiled. "I am quite fond of felines," she replied. "Some would say I was born to be a cat."

Hermione perked. "I'm Hermione! This is Crookshanks!" exclaimed Hermione, holding up the squirmy Nundu cub. "He's my best friend."

"Oh?" Minerva gasped. "What a beauty he is."

Hermione grinned. "Want to hold him? He wiggles." She thrust the Nundu cub out in front of her.

"Mrowl?" Crooks commented.

Minerva gently let the Nundu sniff her hands before picking him up. The Nundu cub proceeded to scent mark Minerva from head to toe and then flopped in her lap.

Hermione had a look of concentration on her face. "Okay, we'll keep you. You may stay!" she announced.

Minerva laughed and gave slight a bow of her head. "Thank you, Hermione."

"We can adopt you, and you can be a Snape too!" Hermione announced, pleased with herself.

Severus gave Minerva an bemused look. "I do not think that is how it works, Hermione."

"Worked for Daddy-Severus," Hermione reasoned. "Will work for Mummy-nerva!"

Minerva had tears brimming in her eyes. "Come here, dear child. Let me give you a hug."

"Okay!" Hermione agreed and ran up to give Minerva a hug.

Minerva's face softened with emotion as she gave Severus a meaningful look.

Hermione took her brand-new bedroom like a duck to water. She gleefully threw herself onto the large bed after Minerva had adjusted it to accommodate for the future growth of Crookshanks. She and Crooks explored the entire cottage from top to bottom, and Severus was sure that he took her to the laboratory and within, cautioning her that she should never enter the laboratory unless he was there. Hermione had nodded and placed a small green sticker with an icky face on it on the door, dubbing it the "yucky door."

"Wherever did she pick that up?" Minerva asked curiously.

Severus shook his head. "She finds things."

"This room needs some colour!" Hermione announced.

"What colour would you like it to be?" Minerva asked.

Hermione frowned, thinking hard. "Can the bed be like Crooks? That way he can feel at home too."

Minerva nodded. She waved her wand and recoloured the bed curtains and duvet to match the tawny gold and sienna of Crookshanks' fur, but leaving the pillows, blankets and sheets a rich ivory. Then Hermione put her hands on the white walls. "Can this be green? Like the stuff that grows on rocks?"

"Moss green?" Minerva asked.

Hermione nodded.

Minerva waved her wand and turned the paint a deep moss green.

Hermione clapped excitedly. "Thank you, Mummy-nerva!"

Minerva looked like she was going to burst into tears at any moment. "You are very welcome, child." Thinking a moment, Minerva conjured a gold, moss green and ivory rug to cover the hardwood floor and a moss green plush armchair beside the little girl's bed.

Hermione lifted the duvet up and peered inside. "Come on, Crooks! Let's make sure everything is good!"

The pair promptly disappeared under the covers. Giggling and meowing followed shortly after. Hermione popped her head out from under, followed by Crookshanks. "It's perfect!"

Severus, who had remained silent until then, said, "I'm glad you think so." He set down a cat-shaped stone on the bedside table. "If you ever need light, you can touch the cat. The first time it will be dim, but the second and third time will get brighter. The fourth time turns it off, okay?"

Hermione reached out and touched the stone and it glowed dimly. A smile spread across her face as she touched it again, making it brighter. Then, she snatched it off the table and drew it under the covers with her and Crookshanks.

Minerva and Severus exchanged glances.

Severus shook his head and placed another cat-shaped stone on the bedside table.

"Daddy, what's this?" Hermione asked, lifting up a large glass jar.

"Asphodel," Severus answered. "Be careful with the containers. They are are glass and could hurt you if they break."

Hermione slowly put the jar down and patted it like one would reassure a small pet. "Don't break, Mr Jar. Hermione doesn't want to bleeded all over."

Severus snorted. "Bleed, Hermione. I don't even think bleeded is a word."

Hermione stared up at him and lifted her arms in clear desire for a lift.

Severus leaned down and picked her up, allowing her to affix her arms around his neck.

"Why does daddy have so many dangerous jars?" Hermione asked.

"The jars hold ingredients, so I can make potions."

"To help Crookshanks?" Hermione asked. "Make his halo-toe-suss go away?"

Severus ruffled her hair. "Yes, to help Crook's very bad morning breath."

"Horray!" Hermione cheered. "Can we make him smell like strawberries?"

Severus arched a brow. "I suppose we can try."

"How do you know what to put in the vat?" Hermione asked, pointing to the cauldron.

"I follow a recipe," Severus explained, pointing to a book on a stand. "Sometimes, I remember them, so I don't need a book."

Hermione peered at the book curiously. "Writing looks funny," Hermione said, pointing at the book. "Toe ver graykun—"

"Toverdranken voor Magische Wezen Brouwen voor Gevorderden," Severus said with a tight smile.

"Ghazun tight," Hermione blessed him, covering his mouth.

"It's Dutch, Hermione," Severus explained. "Not English. It says 'Advanced Potion-Making for Magical Creatures'."

"There are different types of books?" Hermione gave him a wide-eyed expression.

"Mhmm," he answered. "Many languages too. This one is written in Dutch."

"Ooo!" Hermione bounced. "Can I learn Dutch?"

"I suppose, if you really wished to."

"I wish to!" Hermione announced. She lifted up Crook's paws. "So does Crooks!"

"Mrowl?" Crooks meowed quizzically.

"Let's start small, hrm?" Severus chuckled. "7 hele aardbeien," he guided. "That means seven whole strawberries. Shall we go pick them in the garden?"

"Okay! Crooks finds the fresh ones. Want to see?" Hermione patted Crooks on the head and looked at him with concentration.

Crooks lashed his tail and bounded out the door.

"Follow kitty!" Hermione said.

Severus shook his head and followed.

Fourteen large baskets of strawberries later, Severus came to the conclusion that he had been sorely neglecting his strawberry patch. Thanks to a certain excited daughter and her Nundu, however, he had enough strawberries to make preserves, divvy out the spoils to his rather small group of friends, and they would have still have enough to last them well into the coming of the next strawberry apocalypse.

Crookshanks, who was sporting a slathering of strawberry stains all over his muzzle, seemed to be enjoying himself, so it was no surprise that the large feline didn't mind drinking down the finished potion to prevent accidental halitosis incidents. He had a feeling that if Hermione ever encountered any real dangers, Crook's fatal disease-ridden breath would still do what it had been doing for generations of Nundu: kill things. Yet, Amelia's faith that Crooks would not wander around and wantonly murder people seemed very plausible. The familiar bond between them seemed to be getting stronger each day, and Hermione was surprisingly stern with Crooks about "no bad breathing on people. It's not nice."

Severus caught Hermione with one arm and Crookshanks with the other. "Ready to meet some new friends?"

Hermione looked a little suspicious. "There won't be nasty-tasting things to drink will there?"

Severus tilted his head. "No, there shouldn't be."

Hermione remained suspicious. "Ammy said it was to make sure I didn't get sick, but it tasted horrible."

Severus leveled his gaze to hers. "I had to drink them too. We all did before we were allowed in the really secret places."

"Yucky."

"Very," Severus agreed.

"Daddy can make them taste like strawberries, right?" Hermione asked. "Just like for Crookshanks' dwagon breath."

Severus arched a brow. "I haven't been asked to."

"You don't have to ask, daddy," Hermione said patting him on the head. "Just make them so people feel better about taking yucky stuff."

Severus arched a brow. "Come on, help daddy carry the strawberry basket, ok?"

"Ok!" Hermione said.

Hermione picked up a smaller basket as Severus held a larger one. Crooks wrapped his mouth around one of the smaller baskets and carried it in his mouth. "Good Crooks! He's helping too!" Hermione praised.

Severus smiled. Teamwork was a wonderful thing.

"Well, hello there, Miss Snape," Ollivander greeted, his pale silver eyes sparkling with warmth. "I was told you might be stopping in."

"Hullo, Mr Ollivander," Hermione said politely.

Ollivander smiled. "I hear that you are ready to have a wand, hrm? Early for most little witches, but you, I hear, have already been doing magic."

Hermione nodded, grasping Severus' robes. "Ammy says my magic channels are—" she started to say, her face twisting in concentration. "Burnt on."

"Born open, perhaps?" Ollivander suggested.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed.

"Have a wand pick you is a very special time, yound Lady," Ollivander said. "Are you ready?"

Hermione looked up at Severus for a visual clue, and he nodded to her. She looked back to Ollivander. "I'm ready!"

"We are going to take our time because you will not just have one wand, but two. One will be very secret, and the other will be the one you allow others to see," Ollivander explained.

"I like secrets. Crooks likes secrets too!" Hermione said excitedly. She lifted up the Nundu cub and showed him off to Ollivander. "Say hullo, Crooks!"

"Mrowl?" the confused cub said, batting at Ollivander's face clawlessly.

Ollivander's eyes went very wide. "Gracious," he whispered. "Is that a Nundu?"

Hermione nodded happily. "We fixed his breath. No more halo-toe-suss."

Ollivander looked up to Severus, who nodded back to him in a go ahead gesture. Garrick gently extended his fingers for the cub to sniff and very carefully rubbed his ears.

Crooks' eyes crossed slightly as he headbonked into Garrick's hands.

"This changes things," Ollivander said. "I think you'll only need to find one wand. If your feline friend would like to help, we can make you the second wand today. How does that sound?"

Hermione's eyes grew very wide with delight. "Yes!"

"Follow me, my young friend," Garrick invited.

Hermione looked up for permission from Severus and then transferred her grip to the belt of Garrick's trousers. The elder wand-maker patted her shoulders and guided her to the back of the shop.

"Okay, here we go," Garrick said, plunking down many wand boxes. "Take your time, my dear. Lift them carefully. If you feel even a little discomfort, put it right back. If you feel warmth, try to wave it. Wands can be fickle. They are like people. Some of them are quite grumpy. Some are friendly, but only one will want to stay with you."

Hermione nodded and lifted out an black lacquered wand with shiny pearl inlay. She startled and put it back. "That one is mean."

Garrick nodded. "Some of them are a bit foul-tempered. Don't let it discourage you."

Hermione picked up a gnarled-looking natural wand that looked as though it were made of driftwood. She pet it a few times, but put it back. "That one is sleeping. Maybe you should tuck him in for the night."

Garrick raised an eyebrow, tucked the wand into the box and closed it. Nodding for her to continue.

The next wand caused Hermione to smile. She pet it a few times, giggling. She waved it, and a burst of warm colour came out of it. Hermione smiled but then she sadly put it back.

"What's wrong, my dear?" Garrick asked.

"He liked me, but he's waiting for someone else," Hermione replied.

Garrick watched her go through many, many wands. She carefully lifted them, sometimes waved them, and then tucked them "back into bed" with an affectionate pat that reminded him of how his own father would treat wands.

Hermione looked rather disappointed when none of the wands seemed right for her. All of them, Garrick thought with amusement, were "waiting for someone else." Oddly, she seemed open enough to know it, and that utterly fascinated him. Wandlore was strong in his family, but he had yet to see it in others. To be fair, people did not bring young children to his shop usually, so perhaps there was something to be said about being open at a young age as well.

"I have an idea," Garrick said. "How about we play a game?"

Hermione perked.

"See those piles of wood, branches, and such over there?"

"Mhm!" Hermione answered. "Why don't you bring me one, but don't just pick anything. Bring me whichever one feels the most right for you."

"Okay! Come on Crooks! Let's go!"

"Mrowl!" Crookshanks replied with a half purr, trotting off after her.

"Familiar bond, yes?" Ollivander asked.

Severus nodded.

"Familiars are a lot like wands," Ollivander said. "I suspected this would prove to be the case. Normally, the young witch or wizard has a wand before finding a familiar, but she acquired the familiar before the wand. I think I will have to craft her wands specifically for her in order for it to work properly."

Severus's eyebrows raised. "Do you require anything of me?"

Garrick shook his head and chuckled. "You have given me such an ample supply of strawberries to make enough strawberry and rhubarb pie to last me for a few months, my friend. Between that and the typical fare I get from the Department of Mysteries for each of your specialty wands, it is not a bother at all."

Severus nodded.

"However," Ollivander said, cocking his head. "If you should run across any rare wand core materials while you are out traveling the world with the young miss, I would certainly not complain should any of them come this way. I will gladly offer partial commission if the exchange should become habitual."

Severus arched a brow. Garrick of all people knew how to catch a Slytherin by their insatiable love for mutually beneficial relationships, especially the profitable kind. "I think she would be pleased to assist you, Mr Ollivander."

"Bah, if we are to be in a profitable partnership, you will call me Garrick," Ollivander scoffed.

"Severus," Severus said, extending his hand.

Garrick shook his hand with a smile. "I look forward to a bright future, Severus, both with you and your daughter, whom I think will end up taking you many grand adventures."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Severus snorted.

Garrick laughed and nodded. "Ah, here she comes."

Hermione came back with a branch in her hands. It was both a light and darker grey with smooth bark along the length but a rougher look about the base of it. "We like this one," Hermione announced.

"Hornbeam branch— ah, supple, but not overly so," Ollivander said. "There is enough here to make one wand, I think—"

Crookshanks jumped up on the table and spit out another branch. "Mrowl!" he said.

"Oh ho!" Garrick laughed. "Apple branch. Very nice wood. One will be your primary wand, and the other will be your secret wand. We shall see which is which once we are finished. Now, the rest is up to me and a little help from your feline friend, if you would be so kind."

Hermione pulled herself up on to the nearby chair. "Crooks likes to help. Do you need to catch a rodent?"

Garrick smiled. "No, my dear. I would very much like two of your friend's very long whiskers in order to make your wand. "Do you think he will be okay with donating them?"

Hermione scrunched her face a little. "I can ask. I don't think he's ever been asked for a whisker." She plunked the cub into her lap and hugged him, a look of serious concentration on her face.

Hermione looked up after a few minutes. "Crooks says okay, but please be gentle."

Garrick smiled. "I will take the utmost care, young lady."

Hermione patted Crookshanks and turned him around so Garrick could place his fingers around his whiskers. He gingerly tugged on each one, seeking loose ones hidden amongst the masses. Crooks wiggled his nose and sneezed, spattering the wandmaker with a light spritz of kitty drool. Four pristine Nundu whiskers landed in his hand.

"He says you can have the extras too," Hermione said, hugging Crooks.

"Mrowl!" Crooks agreed.

"That is most kind of you," Ollivander said with a warm smile. "Thank you, Miss Snape, Mr Crookshanks. Would you like to watch?"

Hermione turned to look at Severus, her eyes pleading for him to say yes.

Severus peered down at her. "I suppose if it is no bother to you, Garrick."

Ollivander shook his head. "No trouble at all. Please, have a seat and you can watch."

Garrick pulled the branch and seemingly random items to himself as he said down. He started with a small whittling knife, carving some areas and leaving other parts natural. His hands worked in a flurry, almost as if spurred on by some supernatural speed.

Hermione raised her hand slowly.

Ollivander chuckled. "You do not have to raise your hand to ask questions here, child. What do you wish to know?"

"How do you know what to carve?"

Garrick flashed his teeth in a smile. "I don't."

Hermione looked confused at that, and Garrick tilted his head. "I let my hands tell me where to go. When I was young, your age, my father had me carve patterns according to specific instructions, but when I became more proficient at it, I learned that it was better if I let the wood tell me what it wanted."

"Like Crookshanks telling me he preferred salmon instead of tuna?" Hermione asked.

"Much like that, yes," Ollivander agreed. He continued to carve without even looking where he was going with the knife, much to Hermione's wide-eyed awe. He moved a piece of sandpaper over the branch, smoothing out some of the edges. "Now is when the real magic happens," he said with a wink.

Hermione stared at the wood intently, waiting expectantly.

Ollivander took his wand and moved it over the Nundu whisker until it glowed a brilliant gold. With complex movements, he carefully guided the glowing whisker into the wand's heart. The air around the wand seemed to vibrate like a purr as a palpable warmth spread through the room. Ollivander made large arching movements with his hand as though he were conducting a symphony, and the glowing core seemed to wave, wriggle, and settle, falling into place where it needed to go. With a twirling motion, he wrapped a tendril of magic around the wood over and over, until the entire length of the wand was glowing with an even golden brilliance. He then lowered his wand with a satisfied grunt.

"There we go," Garrick said after a moment. "First one done. Care to give it a try?"

Hermione nodded with excitement. She picked it up carefully, cradling it in her hands. The branch was long, which had she been eleven may have not seemed so out of place. She held it somewhat awkwardly in her small hand and gave it an experimental swish. A warmth filled the area as a radiant light came out from the end of the wand. It seemed to bounce around in the air like a living thing, shimmering with a sun-like radiance. It then shot around the room, and hundreds of wand boxes went flying off the shelves at high speed, moving in the air without hitting each other. Boxes zoomed by, over, around, and everywhere in between. Hermione squealed as one zoomed by her ear. Crookshanks batted at one as it flew by. The shelves shuddered as box after box rearranged themselves. Then, after a few minutes, the rustling calmed down, and all the wand boxes seemed to have decided on where they wanted to go.

Garrick blinked, staring at the nearby shelf. "Merlin's hat," he whispered.

"Did I do something bad?" Hermione asked, a look of fear on her worried little face. She hugged Crookshanks tightly.

Ollivander grinned broadly. "My dear young lady. That was fantastic. For the first time in multiple generations, I think Ollivanders is organised by wood type, wand core, and length."

Hermione's lips quivered, her expression still somewhat unsure.

Ollivander opened his arms. "My dear girl, may I give you a hug?"

Hermione's face lit up. "Okay!" Her fear promptly forgotten, Hermione hopped into Ollivander's open arms and gave him a tight hug.

Ollivander winked at Severus, gently patting Hermione's hair with a gently stroke of his hands. "Now we get to make wand number two!"

"That didn't hurt at all!" Hermione said with a smile.

"I promised it wouldn't, dear child," Ollivander said. "I've been setting wands into Unspeakables for a long time."

"Does that mean I have to be quiet all the time?" Hermione asked, concerned.

Ollivander chortled. "No, my dear, it simply means you are slightly more prepared than the average witch. But remember, there are good secrets and bad secrets. Just like how you are very clever and you don't speak of your time at the Department of Mysteries, you must always protect the secret of your second wand. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded. "I know. Ammy said there are two kinds of secrets. The good kind protect many people. The bad make you feel icky and usually protect only one person."

Ollivander smiled at her. "You are a very clever young witch," he said.

"Thank you, Mr Ollivander!" Hermione said excitedly. She glomped his waist with a thud.

"You are most welcome, child," Garrick said. "My thanks to you and Crookshanks for the extra whiskers."

Hermione looked down at Crooks who purred and headbutted into Garrick's knee. "Crooks says you're welcome!" She smiled at him warmly. "I say so too!"

"Have a good rest of the day, Miss Snape," Garrick said. "Do stop in and visit me whenever you wish."

"Okay!" Hermione agreed.

"Do you have your wand holster?" Garricks asked.

Hermione nodded, pulling up her sleeve. The custom-made holster clung comfortably to her lower arm.

"Very good," Ollivander praised. It has special magic inside to shrink your wand down to size. Your size, specifically. It will grow as you do. Take care of it, and it will take care of your wand for you."

Hermione pet the holster respectfully. "Yes! I will."

Garrick and Severus exchanged meaningful glances and shook hands. Severus ushered his excited little witch out in front of him

"Roasted chestnuts, please," Hermione asked, placing her coins on the high counter.

"I'm sorry, little miss," the portly looking man answered her. "Sandwiches and snacks I can do, but my little dragonet isn't roasting today."

"Awwww!" a chain of voices pouted from around the counter.

"Very sorry, my friends," the wizard apologised. "He's been feeling under the weather, and I'm not sure why. Nothing quite beats the real dragonet-roasted chestnuts, though, so I can't just roast them with magic."

Most of the children shuffled off to complain to their parents, but Hermione stuck around. "May I see him? Maybe he needs a pep talk!"

The older wizard smiled at her kindly. "I'm not sure if a pep talk will help him, little miss, but—" he looked at her pleading expression, and he looked up to see Severus and Minerva sitting nearby. Both gave him an amused nod.. "I can introduce you."

Hermione beamed. She looked over to where Severus and Minerva was chatting in the shade of a highly colourful sun umbrella. Severus inclined his head slightly, and Minerva gave her a smile of approval.

"Ach, this here is Donnovan," the wizard said. "Oh, and pardon me. I am Marcus. You need not be standing on formality here." Marcus opened the hatch to a small enclosure under the counter. There was a miniature habitat under the actual counter filled with rocks, running water, and tiny shrubs. Curled up on one of the rocks was Donnovan, a small bronze dragonet with coppery bronze scales that seemed a little dull.

"Does he bite?" Hermione asked.

"Naw, he's a right gentle little guy. I'm not quite sure what's bugging him," Marcus confessed.

"May I take him out?" Hermione asked.

"Sure, but be careful with him. He's not like his much bigger cousins."

"Okay," Hermione said. She put her hand up next to the little dragonet. "Hi! My name is Hermione. Would you like to come out? It's nice and sunny up here."

Donnovan opened his bright copper eyes and yawned, showing his tiny ivory teeth. Slowly, he stepped into her hand.

"Hullo! You are beautiful!" Hermione praised, gently stroking the dragonet over his back. "Are you hungry?"

Donnovan perked, opening his maw wide and obvious, showing a bright orange inner mouth.

"Mr Marcus? May I feed him?"

"Hungry, is he?" Marcus asked. "That's a very good sign. Here, I have some preserved morsels in this tin.

Hermione placed the little dragonet in her lap after she pulled herself into the nearby chair. She struggled to get the tin open, looking like she wanted to use her teeth on it.

"Mrowl?" Crooks commented, standing on his hind legs to sniff the little dragonet.

Donnovan sniffed the Nundu, his tiny tongue flicking to tickle the feline's sensitive nose. Crooks gave him an obligatory slurp and knocked the little dragonet over, but he seemed to like it, wriggling his little legs and wings as he rolled around on Hermione's lap. Severus and Minerva had shuffled up closer, speaking with Marcus as she played with the little dragon.

"She has a soft hand, she does," Marcus praised. "Most little ones bash first and cry later, if you catch my meaning. Then they end up with dragon pox because they get bit or burned."

Hermione gave the tin to Crooks to gnaw on, and the Nundu pried open the lid with his teeth. The tin opened with a pop.

"Thanks, Crooks!" Hermione praised, patting the helpful Nundu happily.

She lifted out the pieces of meat and held it out for the dragonet, but Donnovan sniffed them briefly and turned his nose up.

"Aw," Hermione said with a frown. "Is there something else that you want? You can tell me!"

Donnovan looked up at her, placing his front talons on her thumb. Hermione got a serious look of concentration on her face. Hermione looked up at Marcus. "Mr Marcus," she said. "Do you have any chocolate?"

"What?" Marcus asked. "Why no, but the Mrs has a little confection stand right over there. She has different types of chocolate."

"Anything with hot peppers in it?" Hermione asked.

Marcus tilted his head. "I think she does. Why don't you go and ask her?"

"Okay!" Hermione replied, moving to give Donnovan back to Marcus, but the little dragonet clung tightly to her wrist, wrapping his tail around her fingers and refusing to let go.

"It's okay, lass. Just take him with you. Be careful now," Marcus said with a smile.

"Okay, Mr Marcus!" Hermione said. "Come on, Crooks!"

"Mrowl," Crooks replied, trotting after her.

"Mrs Marcus?" Hermione asked, her head barely reaching over the counter.

"Mrs Marcus" chuckled. "No, dear. My name is Callie. My husband is Marcus."

"Oh!" Hermione corrected herself. "Hullo, Mrs Callie."

"Close enough," the witch said with a wink. "How may I help you?"

"Mr Marcus said you might have some chocolate with chilli pepper in it," Hermione said. "It's for her!"

"Oh! That's Donnovan! Wait— her?" Callie peered carefully at the dragonet.

Hermione nodded. "She has the bright orange mouth. She's very proud of it, but she's sad because no one seems to care as much as she does."

"How do you know, dear?" Callie asked curiously.

Hermione furrowed her brows. "She said so."

"Oh," Callie gasped. "Well, she's never spoken to me."

Hermione shook her head, somewhat confused.

Callie rummaged around in her trays. "Ah, here we go. It's one of my special truffles. Smooth dark chocolate and chillis with just a hint of sea salt."

Hermione peered at it and then at Donnovan. "What do you think?"

Donnovan opened her mouth widely, showing off her bright orange inner mouth.

"I think we have a sale," Callie mused, handing Hermione the truffle. "Careful now, that truffle is pretty big for such a little lady."

"I will! Thank you, Mrs Callie!" Hermione said, cradling the dragonet and the truffle in opposing hands. She made her way back to the other stand, plopped herself down into the chair, and broke the large truffle into pieces with her tiny hands. She placed all the crumbs into the tin and mixed them together. She held out a truffled piece of meat, and the little dragonet immediately snapped it up, almost taking her fingers.

"Hey!" Hermione exclaimed. "Careful. I need my fingers too!"

Donnovan hung her head slightly, but she opened her mouth again, keening as though she were starving.

Hermione inserted more truffle and more meat, and the little dragon snapped it up again, this time much more carefully. She didn't even realise that she had attracted a bit of a small crowd.

Two red-headed children, quite a bit older than she, stepped out of the crowd to stare. "Ooo, that's an Swedish Coppereye!" one boy said excitedly. "They love being around people. Bill, look!"

The other red-headed boy peered down at the little dragonet. "They all look the same to me, Charlie." Despite his words, he seemed just as fascinated.

"Hullo," Hermione said, suddenly noticing that she was being stared at.

"Hi!" Charlie said. "I'm Charlie. This is my brother, Bill."

Hermione looked at them somewhat suspiciously and looked down at Crooks, who was lazily sitting in the shade of the chair. He didn't seem bothered by the two boys' presence at all. Hermione smiled. "I'm Hermione," she said. She held out her hand. "Sorry, my hand is a little messy."

Charlie and Bill didn't seem to mind as they shook her hand.

Donnovan pegged Hermione's finger, keening insistently for more truffle-meat.

Hermione giggled. "Would you like to help me feed her? Her name is Donnovan, and she's feeling under— app-please-inated."

"Underappreciated?" Bill asked.

Hermione nodded.

"I think we could help," the boy said together.

Hermione, all shyness lost, hopped off the chair and sat on the ground, inviting them to sit by her. She placed the tin of truffle encrusted food in the middle. "Watch your fingers. She gets excited."

Charlie pulled a morsel out of the tin and handed it to the dragonet. Donnovan snapped it up, but seemed to take note of where the boy's fingers were.

"I think she needs a girl-name," Hermione said. "Donnovan makes her feel strange."

"I should say so," Charlie scoffed. "She's obviously a girl-dragon."

Donnovan swayed her head back and forth, her tummy finally full. She gave out a loud burp of chocolate-scented flame. Her scales, which had previously seemed dull, were now shining and bright with optimum health. She whirled her copper eyes, closing her eyelids halfway in blissful contentment.

"How about Belladonna?" Bill suggested. "It's a small, pretty, but deadly flower."

"Does it bite people when it's hungry?" Hermione asked.

Bill's eyes widened. "No, thankfully. Not quite like a fanged geranium."

Hermione seemed relieved. "I like it. Do you like it? Belladonna?"

The little dragonet curled herself up between Crookshanks' ears, seemingly content.

"Well, that wasn't disagreement," Charlie commented. "How did you know she wanted chocolate? Most people don't know that about Swedish Coppereyes."

Hermione tilted her head. "She told me." She tapped her temple. "Here, in my head."

Charlie's eyes grew wide with wonder. "Wicked!" He leaned in as if to tell a secret. "I want to be a dragon trainer when I grow up. I'm going to study hard at Hogwarts in the Care of Magical Creatures."

"He's a little obsessed," Bill chuckled, ruffling his brother's hair.

"Hogwarts is the big magical school?" Hermione asked.

"Yup!" Charlie replied. "Up in Scotland. You have to take the train to get there. Bill and I will be going back in Autumn."

"I like magical creatures too," Hermione said pleasantly. She scratched Crooks under the chin.

"I just realised— Merlin," Bill gasped. "Is that a Nundu cub?"

Hermione nodded. "This is Crookshanks. He's my best friend."

"Wow, can we pet him?"

"Sure, he likes that."

Both boys let the Nundu sniff their hands and then pet him. Crooks flopped on his side, dislodging the dragonet, but she moved and curled up on his side. She rose and fell with the in and out of Crook's breathing.

Crooks purred and gave each boy a raspy lick, causing them to pull back and giggle.

Hermione gently picked up the dragonet. "Are you feeling better, now, Belladonna?" she asked.

The little dragonet burped, smelling like chocolate. She rubbed her face happily against Hermione's fingers.

Hermione looked up to the open chestnut roasting enclosure and frowned. It was too high for her to reach.

"Here, we'll help!" Bill and Charlie said, hoisting her up between them so she could place the little dragonet back into her habitat. The little dragon promptly flew over to the piles of raw chestnuts and began to flame on them, taking time to move them around, turn them, and hit them with her flaming breath again.

Hermione and the boys grinned at each other. Already others were gathering around on the other side of the counter, watching the roasting area from behind the transparent glass.

"Oh, ho!" Marcus boomed. "What have you done? You seem to have put real life back into 'er."

Hermione and the two boys beamed up at him. "We named her Belladonna because she's a girl-dragon."

"Oh?" Marcus said, peering into the enclosure. "I think I can live with that. So what was your secret, little miss? Would you mind sharing?"

Hermione looked up to Severus and Minerva, who had been watching them the entire time. They nodded to her encouragingly. "Mix Mrs Callie's chocolate truffles with chilis into the meat and dust it before feeding it to her. She really likes it. She says it will be good for babies, if she can find a sew-tea-ball mate."

"Suitable?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed.

"Well, then,"Marcus said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps we can get her a little company if that is what she wants."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, let's see how she's doing, eh?" Marcus said. He opened the side hatch and plucked out a few of the freshly-roasted chestnuts. He gave one to each child, even the ones standing on the other side of the counter.

The children blew on them to cool them off, but each one took to peeling the roasted treasure to pillage the golden nut within. Their eyes widened with surprise. Children went running back to their parents begging for money to get a bag of chestnuts. Hermione and the two boys seemed to savour the flavour.

"These are wicked!" they exclaimed together.

"These are amazing, Mr Marcus," Hermione praised. The boys nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

Marcus curiously plucked up a chestnut and peeled it, taking a bite. "Holy mother of Merlin," he gushed, his mouth full of chestnut. He shovelled out a bunch of chestnuts onto the tray. "Free samples everyone! Come, sample the best chestnuts in Diagon Alley!"

He filled a few bags of them, handing them to Bill, Charlie, and Hermione. "Here ya go, my young friends. Come visit little Belladonna anytime, eh? I'll be sure to save you a bag of chestnuts anytime you come by."

Each child clutching their bag of chestnuts with hug. "Thank you!" they chimed together.

"Where's your mum?" Bill asked as they plunked down at one of the umbrella tables.

"Mummy-nerva is talking with daddy," Hermione said.

"Eh," Bill sighed. "Our mum is getting our baby sister a couple of new dresses for her birthday. We never get new stuff."

Charlie snorted. "We're not girls."

"What does being a girl have to do with it?" Hermione asked, munching on her chestnuts.

"Nothing, usually, unless you're the only girl in a family full of boys. Ginny's the first female Weasley in generations, according to dad," Bill explained.

"Really? That seems kinda odd," Hermione commented, petting Crookshanks.

Charlie shrugged. "Weasley genetics, dad says. Red hair, freckles, and lots of boys. You probably share some things with your parents, ya?"

Hermione shrugged. "I have daddy's hair and his eyes. We use the same sun cream."

"You do look a little pale, ya?" Bill said.

Hermione flushed, covering her arms.

"No, no," Bill reassured her. "It's okay. Want to see how pale I get during the winter? I bet I'll beat you for the pale contest!"

Hermione looked a little suspicious.

Bill pulled up his sleeve, exposing his pale, unexposed skin. He was so pale that the sun was almost blinding where it reflected.

Hermione reached up to put her hand on his arm, comparing the colour.

"You're just like me underneath!" she said, smiling.

Bill nodded.

"Why are you here without your mummy?"

"Mum really has her hands full," Charlie said. "She let us sit here and get chestnuts because she knows we won't get in trouble like Ron, Ginny and the twins. Percy tries to help, but he usually ends up with mustard smeared over his face or something."

Hermione blinked. "How many brothers do you have?"

Charlie looked upward as he mentally counted. "Er… Well, there is Bill and me, then Percy, then Fred and George, and then Ron. Plus Ginny, of course. But there are six Weasley brothers in all."

Hermione hugged Crookshanks. "I wouldn't want to share my bed with seven other people."

Bill chuckled. "We don't sleep in the same bed."

"Oh, well," Hermione said. "I guess that's okay then."

"And what are you children doing when there is ice cream to be had?" A soft, baritone voice purred.

Bill and Charlie looked up with wide eyes and Hermione's face lit up with excitement.

"Daddy! Look what Mr Marcus gave us!" She thrust the bag of chestnuts into his face. "They taste like chocolate and chilis thanks to Belladonna!"

"Oh?" Severus purred. "I hear that Belladonna is now a very happy dragonet thanks to you. I've been told to take you out to dinner and dessert."

"Mummy coming too?"

"Mmhmm," Severus said. "She went to claim us a table."

Hermione tugged on his sleeve. "Can Charlie and Bill come too?"

Severus eyed the two boys with a guarded expression. "I suppose. They did help you, yes?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

"They must ask their parents for permission," Severus warned. "I will not be accused of abducting other people's children."

"Silly daddy," Hermione scoffed. "You have me and Crooks. We're a handful."

Severus raised a brow. "Indeed."

Bill and Charlie smiled. "Shall we bring mum here to talk to you?"

"I'm sure your mother would appreciate knowing who was taking their sons to dinner. Tell her she is welcome to join us."

"Okay!" The boys scurried off.

"Daddy want a chestnut?" Hermione asked.

"I have already been accosted by Mr Marcus," Severus assured her. "Thank you, though."

"You sure?" Hermione asked.

"Positive," Severus answered.

"Okay, I'm going to put them in your secret pocket in case you change your mind." Hermione announced, shoving the bag of tasty chestnuts into the inner pocket of his robes.

"How is it you know where my secret pocket is?" Severus asked.

Hermione patted his robes. "Shh, it's a secret."

"Severus," the red-headed witch bit out with narrowed eyes and a tight jaw. "I had no idea you had married."

"I think I would remember getting married, Molly," Severus replied calmly. "Given my so very extensive social life."

"Mummy, mummy," Bill and Charlie tugged on her sleeve. "We can go to dinner now, ya?"

Molly pulled her sons to her even while she tried to balance Ginny in her arms and hold onto Ron with her other arm. "I think we should go home. We don't want to— impose ourselves on," she said with a deliberate pause, "anyone. Especially those who would lie about having children—"

Severus, who had been relaxing under the shade of the umbrella until that point, scowled darkly. "Madam, do you think me to be the sort of man to lie about something as life-changing as having a child?"

Molly's face grew as red as her fiery hair. "We both know exactly what you are, Severus."

"I assure you that many of the rumours were just that, baseless rumours that were about as factual as the vapid drivel from Rita Skeeter's gossip column."

Molly's eyes flicked to Severus' arm. "Some things are not rumours."

"I assure you I only drink the blood of virgins, Molly," Severus replied dryly. "And that explains why I haven't had a proper meal in centuries."

Molly's hands went to cover her daughter's ears, but that left Ron without a handler, and he promptly tore off to one of the food stands like a Niffler after a shiny gold galleon.

Their discussion was interrupted by Hermione, who returned with a little owl on her shoulder. "Daddy, daddy, I made a new friend. Her name is Aura."

The little owl hooted excitedly.

"She was stuck in the drainpipe over there!" Hermione said, pointing. "Someone didn't like her very much."

"Oh? Let's clean her off then, shall we?" Severus said, using his wand to clean off his daughter's very muddy hands and arms, robes, and one rather bedraggled and muddified little owl.

Aura hooted with clear relief.

"Owls are very special creatures, Hermione," Severus said. "It is important for us to make sure that no one hasn't lost her by accident."

"In a drain pipe?" Hermione asked, clearly puzzled.

"Even if they— come out of a drain pipe," Severus confirmed.

Hermione looked rather sad at that. "People shouldn't stuff owls in pipes, that's mean."

"I fear there are a lot of things people shouldn't do that they often choose to do anyway," Severus said meaningfully.

"She's really hungry," Hermione said. "She'd really like a nice mouse or a juicy beetle or a moth. She says small birds are good too, but they taste funny in the city."

"Tell you what, Hermione," Severus said. "Let's go visit Eyelops and see if they are missing any owls. She might be missing her friends there, hrm?"

"Okay!" Hermione said.

Aura didn't seem entirely convinced, and she huddled close to Hermione's neck, hiding in her hair.

Hermione set off in a direction and stopped. "Erm, daddy?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Where is eye-lops?"

Severus stood up, holding out his hand. "This way. I'm sure Mrs Weasley wouldn't mind waiting before we go to dinner to take care of this most important mission?" He shot a glance over to a stunned Molly, whose jaw was very much on the ground.

Meanwhile, a young Ronald Weasley had helped himself to an impressive pile of mini-franks and nearly bathed himself in yellow mustard.

"You're totally disgusting," Percy said, his small face screwed up with clear distaste. "I refuse to touch you."

"Wheee!" Ginny exclaimed, babbling in excited toddler-ese just before she stuffed a mustard-coated mini-frank into Molly's ear canal.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, where in Hades did you get that?!" Molly cried, having unstuffed her ear.

"GEEEEEEE!" Ginny answered gleefully, not even bothering to use English. She pointed directly at Fred and George. She splatted her yellow mustard-coated hand directly in her mother's horrified face.

Fred and George's eyes grew wide as their mother's face flushed a very dangerous shade of magenta, which as they knew all too well, meant an imminent verbal explosion delivered at exceptionally high volume.

"FRED! GEORGE!"

"This was where you found her?" the young Auror asked Hermione, eying the narrow drain pipe that Aura the owl had previously been trapped inside. The young wizard seemed barely out of school, but he had a warm smile and gentle demeanor that seemed to appeal to Hermione. She had thrust Crooks at him to "test" his acceptability, and Crooks was now draped over his shoulder purring happily.

"Mhmm!" Hermione said. "She couldn't get out, and she was all yucky."

The gutter pipe splurted out a gush of sludgy, muddy-looking water as they watched.

"Ewwwwww," Hermione said.

The young Auror was casting spells around the pipe.

"Find anything there, Oscar?" an older red-headed wizard asked.

"Same guy, Arthur," Oscar replied. "You were right, it wasn't Dark magic, but the trace is the same."

"Thanks for coming out to help me confirm that, Oscar," Arthur thanked him. "I know you had a few other things on your plate today.

Hermione, who had been given a smaller mini-Auror's notebook, was imitating Oscar down to the rapid scribbling motion with his quill. Oscar was watching her from the corner of his eye, smiling in approval.

"It is not a problem, Arthur," Oscar replied. "Hopefully they will believe you now when you say you are ready to tackle something more than simple petty crimes, eh?"

Arthur smiled. "One can only hope."

"Seven children, my friend," Oscar laughed. "I feel I will never be ready for children. I will be a bachelor forever and survive off of nicked condiments and the odd chocolate frog."

"Don't say that too close to my youngest son, mate," Arthur pleaded fervently. "He already has an unholy and unnatural attraction to mustard. I'd like to blame the twins for dunking him in it as a baby, but —" Arthur visibly shuddered.

"Alright, little miss," Oscar said. "Are you ready to take Aura back to her owners? They have been waiting patiently for us to finish up back at Eeylops."

"Do they promise not to stuff her back in a drain pipe?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"They do," Arthur said kindly. "The man who stole her— well, we know him pretty well, unfortunately. He doesn't always think before he does things. Her owners were supposed to pick her up yesterday, but he stole her before they could."

Hermione made a face. "Will you punish him for being so mean to Aura?" Hermione asked.

Oscar nodded firmly. "Yes. We will."

Hermione looked up with a smile. "Okay!"

"She likes mice, moths, and beetles," Hermione said, handing over the little owl. "Um—and fwogs."

Aura, who had seemed fairly emotionally-detached until that point, hooted excitedly as she recognised her chosen people.

"Aura!" a young boy, perhaps ten or eleven, cried out in happiness. "I knew you would come back!" He pressed his face to the little owl, and she hooted happily in return.

The parents of the boy knelt down to Hermione's level. "Thank you, young lady, for helping bring our Aura back to Aaron. He has had his heart set on taking her to Hogwarts this year, saved up doing odd tasks for people, and picked her out of all the owls here. We thank you."

Hermione smiled at them. "No stuffing Aura in drain pipes."

"We swear it," they promised.

Hermione took their hands and nodded her approval.

"What is your name?"

"Hermione Snape," Hermione answered.

"We will remember your name, Hermione Snape," the boy's parents said together. They stood and shook hands with Severus, Oscar, and Arthur, continuing a chat that lasted for quite some time before they shook hands with the man behind the counter and left.

A screeching noise caught Severus' attention. A young barn owl stared at him from her perch. She bobbed her head, still staring at him with her great dark eyes, and screeched a little lower. Her white, heart-shaped facial disc was accented by a darker brown ring of feathers that crowned her head and then tapered off into both white and brown. She clacked her beak a few times and screeched again.

"Daddy," Hermione said, tugging on his sleeve. "Ceres likes you."

Severus looked toward the owl, curious.

Ceres peered back at him.

"Oh—" Severus said, his face going blank and far off.

Hermione smiled and wandered over to where Oscar was still talking with Arthur.

"Hey, where are you going, young miss?" Oscar asked.

Hermione put her finger to her lips. "Shhh, bonding moment," she replied. "Quiet time."

"You're pretty good with animals," Arthur commented, smiling down at her. "My son, Charlie, likes animals too. Dragons mostly."

Hermione perked, "I met him. He was supposed to come to dinner with me and daddy."

"Oh?" Arthur asked, interested.

Hermione frowned. "We helped Belladonna, the chestnut man's dragonet. Mr Marcus gave us a vow-chair to have dinner together, but Mrs Molly didn't seem to like my daddy very much."

"Hrm, well I see no harm in it," Arthur said. "Tell you what. I will talk to my Molly and we can join you for dinner."

"Are you going to stuff her in a drainpipe?" Hermione asked, suspicious.

Oscar busted up in laughter. "No, little miss. Most adults frown on that sort of thing."

"Okay," Hermione said, smiling.

"We can't afford to be eating here, Arthur!" Molly fretted, twisting her hands together. "All it does it expose them to things they can't have!"

"Molly, don't fret," Arthur placated. "It's not going to hurt them to have something new every so often."

"Arthur we can't aff—"

Arthur placed his hand over hers. "Molly, I asked the owner if he would take payments so we could have a meal too. He said it was all covered. We won't owe a thing. Let them enjoy themselves for once?"

"What—?" Molly's eyes went wide. "What do you mean it's all covered? I won't let a bloody Death Eater pay for our children's meals— OUR meals!"

"Molly," Arthur said, his voice going low and firm. "You listen to me, now. Marcus and Callie Lancaster paid for the saviours of their dragonet, and the creation of a new chocolate-chili chestnut line is what literally paid for our meal tonight. It was a reward for Hermione Snape saving a little dragon and making her happy again. Does that sound like the kind of thing the child of a Death Eater would do?"

"Death Eaters killed my brothers!" Molly hissed furiously, like an angry cat. "I know he is one!"

"Severus didn't, and his child did not either," Arthur said firmly. "She saved a stolen owl stuffed into a drainpipe, Molly. She gave her back to her loving family. Does that sound like the action one would expect of a child raised by blood supremacists?"

"There is no way that sweet child could be his!" Molly insisted determinedly.

Arthur gave her a tired look. "Have you looked at their shared features, Molly? As sure our seven are ours, that little girl is his flesh and blood, and even if she sported blonde hair like a bloody Malfoy, that little girl absolutely adores him."

"Mummy, look!" Hermione cried from the pasties case. "That one is shaped like a dragon!"

"Oh? You're quite right," Minerva answered her.

"It's bigger than Crooks!"

"Can we get a dessert, mummy?" Hermione asked.

"Did you finish your supper?"

Hermione nodded.

Minerva eyed her. "Did Crooks help you?"

Hermione looked away. "Maybe with the bussle spouts."

"Hrm, well, I suppose that is forgivable," Minerva answered. "But, in the future, you should eat at least one of the vegetables on your plate before giving them to Crooks, hrm? And not the tiniest one."

Hermione pondered her words. "Okay, mummy!"

"Okay, which one do you want?" Minerva asked.

Charlie was staring longingly at the dragon-shaped pasty.

Hermione eyed it too but cast her gaze to the golden pasty shaped like a three-headed dog and the one shaped into a mermaid. "That one, mummy." She pointed her finger to the glass.

The woman behind the counter pulled out the large three-headed canine pasty out and handed it to her.

"Thank you!" Hermione said.

"You are welcome," the lady replied before turning to Charlie. "Would you like something?"

"The dragon, please!" Charlie said excitedly.

The woman passed him the pasty, and Charlie practically embraced it all the way back to the table.

Minerva eyed Hermione. "You picked the dog on purpose, didn't you?"

Hermione shrugged. "I like dogs too. Charlie loves dragons."

"That's very logical, my dear," Minerva chuckled.

Hermione broke off one of the pasty's heads and put it to Minerva's mouth. The elder witch mumbled something resembling thanks as she chewed on the decapitated offering.

"One head for mummy, one head for daddy," Hermione counted, "and one for me!"

"Somewhat disturbing but very generous, Hermione," Minerva laughed. "Go on now. Show daddy your prize."

"Okay!" Hermione bounced away to hop into Severus' lap, tore another head off of her pasty, and proceeded to push it against his mouth.

Arthur closed his hand tightly on Molly's. "A child may not always mirror the parent, but if Hermione Snape proves anything, he's clearly doing something right. The only way a little one can grow happy, confident, and secure enough to share is when she has never lacked for love or care in the short time she has been alive. That, Molly, is all we can ever ask for our children. She obviously has that."

Molly's head whipped around as a resounding crash from the nearby counter drew her undivided attention. She gasped and covered her mouth in mute horror when she discovered that Ginny had somehow gotten out of her dress and was parading around the restaurant in her knickers with a large soft pretzel grasped in her hands. She waddled and wrapped her mouth around one bend of the pretzel with no shame at all as Ron dragged her around by the hand. Molly immediately turned to glare at Fred and George, only to discover that her troublesome twins were, for once, quietly eating their pot pies along with Percy.

"Can't blame this one on us, mum," the twins chimed together.

Arthur looked up. "No blame. We're a family, and I love you all."

"Ugh, dad," Percy complained, wrinkling his nose at his father.

The twins kicked him from under the table.

"Ah-ah! No fighting," Arthur warned, and the boys went back to behaving and eating their dinner.

"It'll be fine, Molly," Arthur said, squeezing her hand as his wife buried her scarlet face into his shoulder.

"Wow, daddy!" exclaimed Hermione. "There is even a room for Crookshanks!

"Mhhmm," Severus chuckled as the Nundu cub proceeded to rub himself all over every object in the room: bedpost, table, end table, coffee table, potions bench, bookshelves, book spine tea service, and wardrobe all.

Satisfied that everything was well and truly marked properly, Crooks flopped onto his Hogwarts-designed cat-tree, looking very much like a leopard in a Jackkalsbessie tree. He surveyed the entire suite of chambers, able to keep tabs on Hermione, Severus, and everyone in-between.

An impromptu Unspeakables party had formed in the new chambers of Severus and Hermione Snape, and they had all helped move quite a bit into his new place. His floo had been hooked up to the Unspeakables' own Secret Floo Network, and it had allowed for a private party that no one else need know about.

The children had gathered in the main chamber, happily taking the time to play games and debrief each other on everything they had learned. All of them thought Hermione had the most exciting week of all, having been adopted and then helped both a dragonet and an owl.

Hedwig socialised with Ceres, the two owls hooting and screeching their sociability as they caught up on the news. A few other of the children's owls head bobbed, hooted, screeched, and joined in the lively social commentary as their chosen people did the same with each other.

"Where is everyone?"

"Isn't this a school?"

"We go to school every morning!"

The children boggled with each other over a school with no students or professors.

"Mr Snape is a professor!"

"Professor Snape!"

The children cheered.

"People who go to school here are off for the summer holidays," Amelia explained. "They don't understand that learning happens all the time. They need a break." She laughed, giving them a wink.

The children whispered together, shaking their heads. "That's no fun!"

"Yeah! If we didn't go to school, we wouldn't learn!"

"And what did we learn today?" Amelia asked.

"Mrs Norris doesn't have a Mr Norris!"

Amelia chuckled. "And?"

"Magical plants have to be stored in special glass that can breathe!"

"Why is that?"

A girl waved her hand wildly.

"Go ahead, Grace."

"Some magical plants and ingredients need exposure to magical energy in order to work effectively in potions."

"Very good, Grace," Amelia praised. "Can we name a few such plants?"

Multiple hands immediately went up.

"Go ahead, Harry."

"Angel's Trumpet and Bubotubers," Harry answered eagerly.

"Good, Harry. Anyone else? Go ahead, Hermione."

"Scurvy grass and Spleenwort," a smiling Hermione answered.

The red-headed boy waved his hand.

"Go ahead, Damien."

"Venom-moss Tarantula leaves," Damien answered.

Amelia smiled. "Very close. Venomous Tentacula. Repeat after me?"

Damien nodded rapidly.

"Ten."

"Ten."

"Tack."

"Tack."

"You-lah."

"You-lah!"

"Tentacula."

"Ten-tack-ula!"

"Great job, Damien," Amelia praised.

"Christening your new place with an impromptu lesson, hrm?" Lucius said to Severus as he passed him an ornate mahogany box.

"Hn," Severus replied. "So, we both get to be teachers, now, hrm?"

Lucius smiled. "You'll be fine, Severus."

"You work with talented children that never once stopped learning," Severus grunted. "I get to work with spoiled little dunderheads who feel they are entitled to have a vacation away from their parents.

"At least you won't be alone here, Severus," Lucius said. "I hear they swore in Minerva already."

"That is quite a relief," Severus agreed. "She's a good woman and a fine witch. She has a great deal more honour than most, and she sees much more than others— far more than they think she does."

"Quite the mum, from what I hear," Lucius said, amused.

Severus' mouth curved upward. "Hermione is the ultimate charmer. Minerva was doomed from the moment that little witch called her 'mummy-nerva'."

"The same could be said of a certain 'daddy-Severus'," Lucius mused, his lips quirking with amusement.

Severus sniffed. "No worse than a certain 'doo-dah'."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "I blame the bloody house-elf for that."

"Yet Draco had no problem at all saying 'mummy'," Severus ribbed.

"Just open your belated housewarming gift," Lucius muttered irritably.

Severus arched a raven brow. He opened the mahogany box and found a scroll with a silver ribbon inside. He unraveled it, his eyes darting across the parchment. "Lucius, this—"

"Is a done deal, Severus," Lucius grunted. "Amelia insisted on adding Misty specifically to help take care of Hermione. She's apparently taken care of her the last five-some years, she's an excellent cook, and Amelia's house-elves just had triplets, so—"

Severus arched a brow.

Lucius shook his head. "Foggy is good with organisation, sorting, and general repair, but he and Dobby simply can't see eye to eye. By that I mean they try to beat each other bloody with rolling pins and cast-iron cookware arguing over who gets to do the laundry. In particular, washing the socks. Dewdrop comes from an estate where the entire family was killed during the war. She was living in the shrubbery and rosebushes around downtown London, scaring the ducks with her wailing. She's really good with gardens, though. She turned that entire brown and dead-looking park into a green paradise. Unfortunately, that attracted many new visitors— Muggles, specifically. She'll be perfect for tending your extensive gardens there in Hogsmeade and keeping your house clean while you are teaching here at Hogwarts. She's one of those elves who really needs a home to take care of, but it doesn't matter if you are there all the time. Besides, Severus, it's about time you had some house-elves of your own. You have good homes now and a little witch who needs you. If that old goat needs you to do things that take you away, you won't have to worry about leaving her alone without supervision either. There will be times when both you and Minerva will be busy at the same time, you know."

Severus sighed. "You are right. Thank you— for your consideration. You know I would argue about this if it was just—"

Lucius put his hand on his shoulder. "Severus, for once, just take a gift for what it is. A gift."

Severus shook his head. "Thank you."

Lucius tilted his head. "You are welcome."

"You look funny, Harry," Hermione said, passing the dish of persimmon pudding. "You looked better with black hair."

Harry let loose a thoroughly mischievous grin. "Ammy gave me a watch so I don't look like 'the Chosen One' when I'm out and about," he said with a giggle.

Hermione tapped him on the head. "No scar anymore either. Healed?"

Harry sighed with relief and nodded. "Healer said in a year it will be completely gone."

Hermione smiled. "I'm so happy for you, Harry."

"You're a Snape now, huh?" Harry asked curiously.

"Uh huh!" she answered.

"You like it?"

"I love my daddy-professor," Hermione confirmed, her eyes lighting up with clear affection.

"I'm glad," Harry replied. "Maybe I can come visit sometime? Get out of the basement for a while."

"You really like it there, don't lie," Hermione said, putting her hand on her tiny hips, mock-scolding him.

Harry smiled. "I do, but I would like to visit you too."

"Oh," Hermione said, promptly setting aside her objection. "Okay! Crooks makes a great pillow. I can let you share him with me."

"Okay!" Harry agreed.

"Psst, Harry," Hermione whispered.

"Hrm?" Harry asked, leaning in.

"Did you decide on a name you liked? Your hidey-name?" Hermione asked.

Harry's brows furrowed. "Not sure. I kind of like Harvey because it's close, ya? Harvey or Harley—I'm still working on the last part."

Hermione smiled. "It's okay, Harry. We have time." She patted him on the shoulder, imitating the adults.

Harry grinned at her. "I just want to be a normal Harry."

"We'll never be normal, Harry," Hermione said. "We're extraordinary!"

The pair giggled together.

Minutes later, Severus and the small group of Unspeakables found the children curled up against Crookshanks, fast asleep, having worn themselves out into naptime on their own. All of them had been equally worn out from all the socialising and learning that had happened while the adults were busy helping Severus move into his new place.

Apparently the new house-elves had already made themselves at home and set to work, having provided each child with a comfy sleeping cushion, a pillow, and a blanket.

"Congratulations on your very first slumber party, Severus," Amelia chuckled, patting him on the shoulder lightly.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

Internal Memo

To: All Unspeakables

From: Amelia Bones, HBOY

RE: Graded Novice Unspeakables (GNUs)

We have been given permission to have a few of our classes in the upper levels of the Ministry in the Memorial Arboretum, so if you see our GNUs in the upper levels, don't panic! They should always be with their teacher of the day, as per usual. Our cover story is that we are working on active teaching and magic sensitivity training with disadvantaged magical youth. This should keep people from thinking they want their children "in on the special Ministry privileges." I swear to Merlin, most folks don't give a hippogriff's rump about their child's education as long as they get into Hogwarts unless they think someone, somewhere, is gaining something their precious "little darlings" are not.

The standard cover is, if you are debriefing any of our GNUs and should gain an unwanted audience is to switch to talking about English grammar and maths until they go away. Be sure to make it as dull and boring as you possibly can. In fact, do your best impression of Professor Binns at Hogwarts, that should do nicely. All of the GNUs have been briefed to complain and describe how "horrible their life is or was" by default if they think someone might be listening to their conversations.

Thankfully, all our children seem to find it rather fun making up the utter rubbish and lies of how miserable their lot in life is while knowing just how far from the truth that really is. Write down the best stories you hear and we'll share them during the weekly meetings. The children will love it, and I think you folks will too.

Please be sure to remind our children that while misleading others is done to protect the integrity of our organisation from the prying eyes of the likes of Rita Skeeter and some of the shadier upper echelons of the Ministry, they will never be misled by us. We are all family here, and we will always protect each other.

On a rather concerning note, DoM staffer Augustus Rookwood suddenly became ill and collapsed during the last meeting and was taken to St Mungo's for treatment. So far, he has not regained consciousness. Some rather disturbing revelations have also arisen from Rookwood's sudden illness, and we will be discussing them at our next weekly debriefing.

The meeting will probably go long, but I promise there will be catered food and drink from Grandmum's Kitchen to make it well worth your while. We will be putting the GNUs to bed early for the second half of our meeting.

A/N: HBOY = Head Boss of You, in case you were curious heh. Heh. heh.