After the Second Voldemort Blood War is over, Hermione Granger discovers that her usefulness is at an end and there is no place for her in magical Britain. Taking the hint, Hermione leaves and makes a new life with one who is in the same position as herself. HG/SS. One-shot.

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own it – I wish! Unfortunately, Harry Potter belongs to JKR and not to me; I'm just playing in her sandbox.

Author's Note: This story is unbetaed, so I hope there won't be too many typos or other errors.

.o.O.o.

The battle was over. Hermione Granger looked around numbly at the battlefield, unable to believe that the war was over, that it had been won by the side of Light, that she had survived. Hearing a whimper behind her, she looked around and saw an injured girl lying on the ground. Mindlessly, she began helping the injured. Seeing what she was doing, others also came to assist, but the majority of the people who had fought and survived made their way back into Hogwarts to celebrate, with Hermione's best friends, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley in the centre of the crowd.

As the battlefield gradually cleared, Hermione remembered one other who should be taken care of and approached Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was directing the clear-up with regard to the disposal of the Death Eaters, both alive and dead. Looking at her, he saw a young woman who was thin to the point of emaciation. The bushy-haired witch had bags of exhaustion under her eyes and she was twitching involuntarily, signs of extended exposure to the Cruciatus curse.

"Hermione," he said, smiling at her tiredly. "What can I do for you?"

Hermione bit her lip hesitantly. "I was wondering if you could come with me to get Professor Snape? He was dying when we left him but we couldn't stay to help him. It was the middle of the battle and we heard bangs, like people were coming, and thought it might be Death Eaters, so we had to leave him."

"Lead the way," he said simply.

Kingsley followed Hermione to the Shrieking Shack, where Severus Snape had lain dying. She rushed over to the body lying in a pool of blood on the floor and desperately feeling for a pulse. As she did so, Kingsley waved his wand over Severus. "He's still alive, but only barely," he said. "We need to get him to the Hospital Wing quickly."

Kingsley levitated Professor Snape's body down the passage from the Shrieking Shack to the grounds of Hogwarts. Hermione followed them wearily back into the school. In the entrance hall, Kingsley looked at Hermione. "I'll take him from here. You go and sit down for a bit in the Great Hall with everyone else. You look exhausted," he said kindly.

Hermione merely nodded, too tired to speak. As she approached the doors of the Great Hall, she saw Harry and Ron still surrounded by adoring fans. She approached her friends but when Harry saw her, to her great surprise, he glared at her. Striding over to Hermione, Harry took a firm—and somewhat painful—hold of her elbow, steering her out the Great Hall and back into the entrance hall. "What we did, it was a mistake. I don't want Ginny to find out about it, ever. It never happened, understand?" he growled before he turned around and stomped away.

Hermione knew what Harry was referring to. For the past nine months, she, Ron and Harry had been on the run, trying to dodge Death Eaters and Snatchers while they tried to find Voldemort's soul anchors so that he could finally be defeated, once and for all. They had been miserable, cold and hungry. Ron had even deserted them for a time and during that period, Harry and Hermione had slept together when greatly in need of comfort. It had only happened once but it had been a mistake. It had been neither pleasurable nor comforting. Harry had rutted mindlessly, caring only for his own completion. He had not bothered to make sure it was a good experience for Hermione. Selfishly, Harry had not even slowed down when he realised his friend was a virgin and in pain, and Hermione was perfectly happy never to think of that experience again.

Seeing no welcome for her in the Great Hall, Hermione instead trudged wearily up to the infirmary. After being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, she had not received any medical treatment. The lingering spasms from the Cruciatus curse were increasing and the wounds from Bellatrix's cursed knife were not healing. Hermione knew that the school's Mediwitch would be busy with those who had been wounded in the battle but decided she could wait in an out-of-the-way corner until Madam Pomfrey was ready to treat her.

As soon as she walked in, however, Madam Pomfrey started giving her tasks to do. Hermione could see that the Mediwitch was overwhelmed and so, although exhausted beyond measure, she did not say anything but merely did as instructed. After all, the other patients in the infirmary all had battle wounds which needed to be tended to urgently. Hermione had already waited so long for treatment, she supposed that she could wait a little longer.

The battle had finished early in the morning and Hermione spent the entire day helping out in the hospital wing, while the celebrations continued in the Great Hall. She did not have time to pause, nor even to eat. Eventually, late that night, she forced her weary body to take her to Gryffindor Tower, in the hope of finally being able to lie down and rest. When she reached the tower, however, she soon saw that every bed, couch and chair was occupied. Hermione did not know where the common rooms for the other Houses were, or how to get into them. Barely able to put one foot in front of the other, she somehow made it back to the hospital wing where she collapsed wearily into a chair beside Professor Snape's bed. She fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair but woke up far too soon. In her unconscious state, her worn-out body could not handle the Cruciatus twitches and spasms and they developed into a full-on seizure, propelling her out of the chair onto the cold, hard, stone floor while she convulsed, banging hard against the Professor's bed and the chair she had been sitting in as she thrashed about on the floor.

This pattern continued for the next several days. Hermione spent the entire time working hard in the infirmary. She barely had time to eat and when she did manage to do so, she could barely take more than a few bites before she was called back to work. She could not even keep those few bites down; her insides churned from the Cruciatus exposure and lack of nutrition over the last several months, rejecting anything she tried to ingest. The nights were spent on the floor beside Professor Snape's bed, as she had nowhere else to go. Not that she managed to sleep much. There was only so much cushioning and warming charms could do and the convulsions were becoming ever more severe. In the meantime, Harry and Ron were too busy being fêted as the saviours of the wizarding world to help with the clean-up or spare a thought for the girl they claimed was their best friend.

Eventually, all patients had either been discharged to go home or had been moved to St Mungos for more long-term care, barring Professor Snape, who was staying in the Hogwarts infirmary for his own safety. Although his true role in the war had come out, there were still very many who had not forgiven him for killing Dumbledore—even though it had been a mercy killing requested by Dumbledore himself—or for the way he had been forced to run Hogwarts while Headmaster under the rule of Voldemort. To be honest, Severus, who was now conscious, had not forgiven himself. The former Headmaster was also at risk from Dark supporters who were still on the loose and resented his part in bringing down the Dark Lord. So he remained Poppy's only patient.

Once the last patient, other than Professor Snape, had left the Hogwarts infirmary, Hermione was hopeful that she would finally be able to get treatment for her Cruciatus exposure. Unfortunately, Poppy had been so busy that she had simply not noticed Hermione's ever-worsening symptoms. As Hermione approached the Mediwitch, Poppy looked up at her wearily.

"I don't know what I'd have done without your help these last few days, Miss Granger, but you've done enough now. As you can see, only Severus is left in the infirmary. It's time you go and join the celebrations, and Minerva wants all non-essential personnel out the castle while it's assessed for repair. She's already asked that you leave today. Off you go now."

"But Madam Pomfrey…" Hermione's voice trailed off as the Mediwitch bustled away.

Hermione trudged dispiritedly over to Severus' bed. As she collapsed wearily into her chair, she considered her options. Noticing that Professor Snape was awake, she spoke to him, as she had been doing whenever she tended to him ever since he had first come around from his injuries. The dark man had been assured that his throat, ravaged by Voldemort's pet snake, would heal but was as yet unable to speak. He watched the little witch suffer and it pained him that he could not speak out on her behalf. When Hermione had given him parchment and quill so that he could communicate by writing, Madam Pomfrey immediately confiscated it, tutting that he needed to rest. And so, unable to do anything else, he continued to watch and to listen. Hermione could see the sympathy in his eyes and unburdened herself to him whenever she had a few minutes to spare.

"I'm too scared to go to St Mungo's on my own for treatment, because I don't know how dangerous it might be for me. I don't even know if the Muggleborn Registration Act has been revoked and there's every chance that Death Eaters, or Dark sympathisers, will be glad of the opportunity for revenge if they find out I'm there. Harry, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys haven't spoken to me since the Battle was over. In fact, I rather think that now that I'm no longer needed to keep Harry and Ron alive, or to do their thinking for them—or to help Madam Pomfrey, for that matter—I'm no longer of any use," said Hermione looking at the floor as she tried to hide the tears pooling in her eyes.

Hermione finally looked up into Severus' dark, sympathetic orbs. "The Order refused to help me protect my parents, even though they had no problem protecting Harry's disgusting relatives. I guess a Mudblood's parents just weren't important enough. I told Harry and Ron that I Obliviated my parents and sent them to Australia with new names. It was all a pack of lies, of course. Neither Harry nor Ron has Occlumency shields and I wasn't willing to trust my parents' safety to those two idiots."

Severus looked approving when he heard she had misled the Terrible Twosome and, encouraged, she explained further. "My parents are actually in Bulgaria, under the protection of the Krums. I think it's time I go and join them. Viktor's wife is a Mediwitch. Admittedly, her area of expertise is sports injuries but I'm sure she can refer me to a Healer who can help me. I seem to have outworn my welcome in the British Wizarding World, so I think it's time I left. You won't tell anyone where I am, will you?" she begged in desperation. Severus blinked twice. They had already established the 'blink once for yes, twice for no' method of communication, as it strained Severus' neck merely to nod or shake his head.

"Thank you," she breathed gratefully. "I'm going to put charms on myself preventing owls and other messenger birds finding me. If you'd like to write, send your letters to Viktor and he'll give them to me. I hope you'll stay in touch. I'd like to know that you're well."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione called out "Vonty!" and a house elf appeared. Hermione looked back to Severus. "This is Viktor's house elf. He'll take me to my parents. I imagine you might also want to disappear as soon as you've been released from the infirmary. After all, you've probably outlived your usefulness now, too. If you do want to disappear, sir, you'd be very welcome to join is in Bulgaria, if you would like. You could rest and recuperate there while you decide your next move. All you need to do is call for Vonty and he'll come and get you."

Hermione looked at the house elf. "Vonty, this is Master Snape. If he should call you, will you please come to him and bring him to me in Bulgaria?"

The little elf nodded fervently. "Of course, Missy Hermy," he said.

"Thank you," she smiled fondly at him. "Will you take me to my parents, please?" Hermione looked back at Severus. "Be well, sir," she said. Then she held out her hand to the elf and he apparated her away, only moments before Minerva McGonagall appeared.

"We need to reset the wards but you are still technically Headmaster," the Gryffindor Head of House snapped. "I need you to hand control of the wards over to me."

Severus did as instructed and Minerva turned to leave. Glancing round the infirmary, she asked, "Where is Miss Granger? Don't tell me she's still here in the castle?"

"I told her to leave," replied Poppy, as she exited her office.

"Good," said Minerva with a nod, and stalked out.

Severus, immediately closed his eyes and feigned sleep, not wanting the Mediwitch to see the disgust he was feeling. Hermione Granger had sacrificed much for the betterment of the Wizarding World in Britain and the fact that no one seemed to care about her now that she had outlived her usefulness appalled him. He had watched in disbelief as the Mediwitch either did not see or ignored the younger woman's condition, and was highly unimpressed that Poppy had not spoken up in her defence just now, by reminding Minerva just how much Miss Granger had done to help in the infirmary since the Final Battle. The dark man was shocked that his colleague had been so curt and dismissive regarding a girl who, supposedly, had been her favourite Gryffindor cub and did not understand Minerva's attitude. He had earned the disdain of the Wizarding World by becoming a Death Eater but the put-upon young witch deserved better than this.

It all began to make sense when Severus noticed that the Daily Prophet was also ignoring her, all the while lauding Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. The newspaper was not even publishing the bile it usually spewed about the young Muggleborn witch. It was as though she no longer existed.

She was right. She was only tolerated for her usefulness. Much like myself, he surmised, agreeing with her assessment. And now that we've kept Potter alive long enough to kill the Dark Lord, it would appear that neither of us is of any further use.

The day before Severus was due to be released from the infirmary, Kingsley Shacklebolt come to visit him. "I'm sorry I didn't come before," the broad-shouldered, dark-skinned wizard apologised in his slow, deep voice. "I've been appointed Acting Minister for Magic and I've been rather busy with the clean-up and organising trials for the Death Eaters. Not you! You've been cleared of any charges," he hastened to assure Severus, much to the other man's relief.

"I don't suppose you know where Miss Granger is, do you? Minerva informed me that Hermione spent her time 'skulking around the hospital wing,' as she put it, until Minerva eventually had to kick her out. No one knows where she is and I need to get Hermione's testimony regarding the Trio's time on the run. Apparently, Potter and Weasley seem to think that they're such almighty heroes their word should be gold. They refuse to give testimony under Veritaserum or offer their memories. Their testimonies have more holes than a sieve and I'm hoping Miss Granger can help fill in the gaps," Kingsley explained, as Severus rolled his eyes contemptuously.

"She's gone," Severus rasped. "It was made very clear to her she had outlived her usefulness as far as the Wizarding World is concerned and she chose to heed that message."

Kingsley sat back in his seat. The Acting Minister did not look surprised. "That's a shame but I can't exactly blame her," he said apologetically. "Do you know how to contact Hermione? I realise she doesn't owe us anything but if she doesn't want to see people like Antonin Dolohov freed and coming after her, it's in her own best interests to help us put them away. Hermione doesn't need to come back, she can just send us her memories. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of Mysteries will be able to verify that they haven't been tampered with."

"I can't make any promises," Severus said.

"But you'll ask her?"

Severus nodded.

"Thank you," said Kingsley, taking his leave.

The next morning, Severus had no sooner left the Hospital Wing when Minerva McGonagall came marching towards him. "I've been appointed the new Headmistress. Please remove your belongings from the Headmaster's chambers immediately," she said brusquely and stomped away.

Severus sighed and made his way to the Headmaster's chambers. He was still very weak and it took him quite a while, walking very slowly and carefully, to get there. Upon entering, he sat down gratefully in a chair, unsure if he had the strength to continue standing.

Looking around the room, the former Headmaster assessed what he needed to do. Then, sighing, he called for a house elf.

"Yes, Master Snape?" the elf asked.

"Please can you pack my clothes and my personal potions equipment and ingredients for me? My trunk should be at the end of my bed," he said. Severus owned a very large library of books and had taken the precaution of storing all his books, both those he had kept in the school and those he had kept in his home, in his vault in Gringotts sometime previously. The austere man did not have much by way of personal possessions left in the school and nothing that he cared about in his home in Spinners End. His books were his most treasured possessions and they were safe. When the elf had finished packing for him, Severus asked for another favour.

"Tappy, do you know if there are any old, unused walking sticks around?" he asked.

The house elf nodded and disappeared. A few minutes later, he came back with a selection of canes for Severus to try. Severus selected one that was a comfortable height for him and then dismissed the elf with his thanks. Severus then tapped his trunk with his wand to shrink it and tucked it into a pocket in his robes. Mentally, he cursed the fact that the wards had already been restored, because it meant that he could no longer summon the Krums' elf without alerting the Hogwarts elves. The loyalty of the Hogwarts house elves was to the Headmaster or Headmistress and he did not want to risk Tappy reporting back to McGonagall, Dumbledore having given instructions after the visits by Dobby when still bound to the Malfoys, that any strange elves on the premises were to be reported. Wearily, Severus considered calling Tappy back and asking the elf to take him out the Hogwarts gates but realised that he preferred to leave the school, which had been his prison for the last seventeen years, unnoticed. Instead the former Headmaster disillusioned himself and slowly made his way out of the castle, leaning heavily on the cane. Severus was sweating and shaking by the time he had got all the way down to the gate. As soon as he exited the Hogwarts grounds he paused to catch his breath. After a moment, he called out hoarsely. "Vonty!"

The Krums' house elf appeared immediately. As soon as Severus heard the crack of the house elf's apparition, he cancelled the Disillusionment Charm.

"Does Master Snape want Vonty to take him to Bulgaria?" the house elf asked.

"Yes, please," Severus said. He had no intention of remaining in Britain and with nowhere else to go, at least there would be a friendly face in Hermione Granger when he arrived in Bulgaria. Vonty took his hand and apparated them both away.

As they landed, Severus took stock of his surroundings. He was standing in what looked like the entryway of a grand manor house and a man was striding towards him. The man was a few years older than himself and looked like an older version of Viktor Krum.

"You must be Mr Krum? Thank you for allowing me into your home," he said, holding his hand out to his host. "I'm Severus Snape."

"I know," the older man said, smiling at Severus. "Hermione has told us much about you. We are delighted to welcome you to our home. I'm Marko Krum and this is my wife, Rada," he said, indicating the woman who had come to join them.

"You are very welcome, Master Snape," she agreed with her husband.

"Severus. Please call me Severus."

"Of course. And you must call us Marko and Rada," she said graciously. "Come, we will show you to your room and I am sure Hermione is waiting most impatiently to see you."

Severus followed Rada and placed his trunk in his room, tapping it to unshrink it. "I'll unpack later," he said. "May I see Miss Granger first? I was worried about her when she left Hogwarts. She wasn't in very good condition at the time."

"No, she wasn't," agreed Rada. "Our daughter-in-law has given her a medical examination. Tsveta also asked her father to come and see Hermione. Kosta is a Healer, specialising in countering Dark magic. Hermione has bad damage from the Cruciatus Curse. It was not treated promptly, which has made it more damaging. Kosta was pleased to hear you might be coming to visit. He has heard of you and thought your knowledge could be beneficial."

"I'll do my best to help," Severus reassured the worried matriarch.

Rada led Severus a short way down the hall. The door was already open. On looking in, Severus saw Hermione propped up against a pile of pillows in bed, with a young girl who looked very like Hermione cuddled up next to her. A book lay on Hermione's lap, and she was clearly reading to the little girl.

"Professor Snape!" Hermione exclaimed delightedly, seeing the dark man in the doorway. "Come in, please."

"Severus, Miss Granger. Call me Severus. I'm no longer anyone's professor, thank Merlin," he replied with a smile.

"Then you must call me Hermione," she said agreeably. "And this is my little sister, Miranda. How are you, Severus?" she continued, indicating for him to sit down in an armchair propped near her bed.

"I'm much better. Still quite weak but I have no serious injuries remaining. What about yourself, Hermione? I understand you are experiencing lingering symptoms of Cruciatus exposure?" he asked gently.

Hermione nodded sombrely. "Kosta says it's like nothing he's seen before. I was probably under the Cruciatus for no more than an hour, if that—even if it did seem a lot longer—and it wasn't continuous during that time. That wasn't Bellatrix's only form of torture. The mad bitch alternated the Cruciatus with other delights. Kosta says that I should only be having these symptoms if I'd been Crucioed repeatedly for months."

"Bellatrix," Severus sighed. "She corrupted the spell somehow. Or perhaps it was just her magic that was corrupt. Either way, I don't know exactly how to counter the on-going symptoms but I'm familiar enough with her Cruciatus to try and develop a cure."

"Were you ever Crucioed by her?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

"No, my punishments came at the hands of the Dark Lord himself. Who would have thought I'd ever be grateful for that?" he asked wryly. "He knew how much she hated me and he couldn't trust her not to go too far if he ever permitted her to turn her wand on me. He needed a Potions Master too badly to risk what Bellatrix might do to me—well, up until he decided that I was the key to the Elder Wand, anyway. I suppose I ought to be grateful he gave me to Nagini in the end instead of turning me over to Bella."

"Or casting an Avada at you," Hermione agreed. However bad his injuries from Nagini were, Severus would not have survived at all, injured or otherwise, if Voldmort had cast a Killing Curse at him.

"How bad is your condition, Hermione?" Severus asked carefully. The brown-eyed young woman was pale, with bags under her eyes, and even now Severus could see faint tremors coursing through her. Even her trademark bushy hair was hanging limply around her shoulders. Hermione did not look herself without the halo of bushy hair surrounding her.

"It hasn't improved since I've been here. It hasn't deteriorated further, though, thanks to the treatment Kosta prescribed," she explained.

"And yet you have been confined to bed?" the Potions Master inquired.

Hermione's eyes fell. She sat staring intently at the quilt covering her bed, her fingers absently picking at a loose thread. Severus gently placed his hand on top of hers, stilling the restless movements.

"What is it, Hermione?" Severus asked as sympathetically as he could.

"Miranda, why don't you go and play for a bit? I'll carry on reading to you later, once I've finished saying hello to my friend," Hermione said, gently shooing her little sister away. With sad eyes, Hermione watched Miranda run out the door and waved her wand to close it behind her little sister. Hermione had lost her wand during the war and had been using Bellatrix's wand, snatched during her escape from Malfoy Manor. Hermione hated that wand—and it hated her in return—and so Marko Krum had summoned a wandmaker to provide a new wand for Hermione. Bellatrix's wand was carefully locked away, while they debated whether to turn it over to the British Ministry or simply destroy it.

"During the Horcrux hunt," Hermione began in a whisper and Severus strained to hear, not wanting to interrupt her by asking her to speak up.

"We didn't have a clue what we were doing," she continued in that same low voice. "We didn't know what the Horcruxes were—we only had Dumbledore's vague suspicions as to what they might be—and we certainly didn't know where they were. Nor did we know how to destroy them. When we finally found the locket, Harry insisted we take turns wearing it, so it wouldn't get lost. So we each spent hours with bits of Voldemort's soul hanging round our necks. We were cold, hungry, scared and lonely, we were desperately worried about everyone, and that damn Horcrux magnified and enhanced every negative emotion within us. Ron couldn't handle it, and he upped and left us. On Christmas Eve, Harry wanted to visit Godric's Hollow. He'd never been there before, you see. We encountered Bathilda Bagshot there. Or what we thought was Bathilda Bagshot. Turns out, she had been killed and her corpse was housing Nagini."

Severus shuddered at the mention of the cursed snake but said nothing; he just sat quietly and let Hermione carry on talking. Her voice gathered strength as she spoke.

"Of course, we should have realised Voldemort would set someone to watch in case Harry turned up there. Well, I did think it might be dangerous, but I certainly didn't expect a corpse that had been animated by Nagini!" she said, as Severus snorted. "I thought we had to go, though, as I had a feeling Dumbledore might have left Gryffindor's sword there for Harry. I'd worked out by then that the sword could destroy Horcruxes, you see. I was wrong about Dumbledore leaving the sword there and we ended up in a trap. We got out of there seconds before Voldemort arrived. Nagini had bitten Harry but I presume she had control over her venom, because his wound healed easily with Dittany, unlike Arthur Weasley's wound when he was bitten by that damned snake. I believe Voldemort told Nagini to hold Harry, not to kill him—he wanted to kill Harry himself, didn't he?—so she didn't use her venom. That's speculation on my part, but I can't think how else Harry's wound healed so easily."

Hermione paused for a moment, trying to gather herself. She had tears in her eyes and she was shaking. Severus was sure that this time, it was not continuing tremors from the Cruciatus. Hermione's voice dropped to a whisper again.

"We were so depressed and so miserable, we desperately needed comfort. Harry went straight to sleep after I'd finished treating him but the next morning when we woke… we were sharing a bed for warmth and we…"

"I understand," said Severus gently, as she struggled to get the words out. "You took comfort in each other."

Hermione snorted. "Harry did, perhaps. He rutted away quite happily, then got out of bed and never referred to it again. Didn't even bother to check if I was all right."

"I take it that it was not a particularly pleasurable experience for you?"

Hermione shook her head. "It hurt. I was a virgin and Harry made no effort to be gentle or to make it good for me. He got whatever he got out of it. I got nothing. We carried on as normal afterwards. Then Ron came back and warned us about the taboo. You know, Dumbledore always told Harry that he shouldn't fear to say the name. Which is all very well and good under normal circumstances but not so good with a taboo in place. Harry was so conditioned to saying Voldemort's name that when he lost his temper, he said it instinctively. The silly fool was too angry to think what he was saying before he said it. So we were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, where I was tortured. Harry wasn't touched because Voldemort had given orders that he wanted to deal with Harry personally. Between Ron and me, well, Bellatrix didn't see much difference between a Mudblood and a Blood Traitor but she still preferred to spill the blood of a Mudblood than that of a Pureblood, Blood Traitor or not. The crazy bitch also took my existence very personally—more, I think, than she would have any other Muggleborn—so I got the pleasure of her personal attention."

Hermione lowered her head, hiding her face in a curtain of hair. "After the Final Battle, Harry made it damn clear he didn't want Ginny to find out what we'd done. I went up to the infirmary and you know what happened after that. When I got here and Tsveta checked me over, she discovered I was pregnant. I hadn't realised. I was just over four months at the Final Battle and didn't know I was pregnant. I wasn't showing and whatever symptoms I may have been experiencing, I put down to the trials of the previous months and my poor physical condition. My periods had stopped even before Christmas because of malnutrition and stress. Tsveta and Kosta say they don't know how the baby survived the Cruciatus but it did. I didn't want to get rid of it. I've seen so much death, I just can't bring myself to kill my baby, despite its father."

Hermione's head snapped up. "Do you think I should tell him? Harry's always wanted a family, you know. I couldn't ask anyone else their opinion because they don't know Harry. Not even Viktor does, not really. You do, though. Do you think Harry will want to know about the baby? He—he sounded like he hated me the last time he spoke to me."

Severus refrained from voicing his opinion yet again that Harry Potter was just like his arrogant and malicious father, sensing that Hermione was not yet ready to admit that her childhood friend was not the man she had believed him to be. "I don't think you should say anything now. It could be said that he has a right to know he's a father, but he's not actually a father yet. You still have some months until you will give birth. Why don't you wait and see if his attitude improves and he wants to find you? You can trust Kingsley's discretion if you wish to make inquiries about Potter at that time," he said, shaking his head.

"That's what my parents suggested, too," she observed.

"They're right. You don't need the stress of a confrontation with Potter right now, especially if you're planning to keep the child even if he doesn't want it?" This last was a question and Hermione nodded in response. "Did… Kosta, is it? Did he say if the baby has been affected by the torture you underwent?"

"Kosta isn't sure. He says there's no way to know until the baby's born. It's a miracle the baby survived as it is, and the chances of it coming through completely unscathed are probably slim," she said sadly, protectively cradling her stomach.

Severus did not say anything to the witch sitting in the bed beside him but he had a feeling that the Saviour of the Wizarding World would not be interested in a child that was less than perfect—and certainly not one whose very existence would create a scandal for him. Harry Potter may not have been raised by his parents but that did not mean he was without any of their traits and they would not have accepted a child with a physical or mental disability. From what Severus had seen and heard of the Boy Who Lived since the war had ended, Potter had let his fame go to his head and this had brought out in him the worst aspects of his parents.

Severus sat chatting with Hermione for a while longer, until Vonty brought in a tray for Hermione. "Does Master Snape want to eat lunch with Missy Hermy or in the dining room?" the little elf asked.

"You won't be eating lunch in the dining room?" Severus asked, looking at the witch questioningly.

Hermione shook her head. "I've been put on complete bed rest for the foreseeable future. I'm only allowed to get up for the toilet, and even then Kosta doesn't want me to walk, if I can avoid it. I'm usually levitated or carried, since apparition—even house elf apparition—isn't good for the foetus."

"I don't want to be lacking in any attention to Master and Madam Krum but I'd prefer to stay with Miss Hermione, if they won't mind?" he answered Vonty.

Hermione smiled. "No, they won't mind. They're very easy-going. Vonty, please can you bring a tray for Master Snape?"

"Yes, Missy Hermy," the elf said and disappeared, returning a couple of minutes later with a tray for Severus.

"I'm surprised at you accepting help from a house elf," Severus commented, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, as they ate.

Hermione theatrically threw her head back against the pillows. "I'm never going to be allowed to live that down, am I?" she cried in exasperation.

"No," Severus agreed solemnly, his lips curling and his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I don't want to free house elves against their will," she huffed. "I've learned better. Although, it wouldn't have hurt if Hogwarts had a course to help Muggleborns integrate into the wizarding world. Instead, my first knowledge of house elves came from Dobby, who was treated appallingly and for whom freedom was better than being bound to the Malfoys, and from Winky, who was cruelly freed for something for which she wasn't responsible, just so her Master could try and save face. With those examples, and my Muggle upbringing, it's hardly surprising that I misunderstood the nature of the house elf bond. I'd still like to see them treated well, but I know that freeing them isn't right."

"Fair treatment is a reasonable goal," he agreed. "And now that the war is over and the Dark Lord is finally dead, it might even happen. Not all of those who sympathised with the Dark Lord will change their beliefs but they'll realise it won't be politic to do anything but comply with the new laws and behaviours that I'm sure Kingsley will do his best to introduce." This was a nice segue into what he really needed to say. Severus wanted to get this over as soon as possible, so they could put it behind them and not think about it again. As he had hoped, Hermione picked up the conversational thread.

"Why Kingsley?" she asked curiously.

"He's been made Acting Minister," Severus explained. Clearing his throat nervously, he continued. "Hermione, I don't quite know how to say this, so I'm going to be uncharacteristically non-Slytherin and just come out with it. Kingsley asked if you could send your account of your time on the run, with memories to back it up. Apparently, your erstwhile friends don't see the need to provide evidence that can't be challenged in court and no one wants to risk people such as Dolohov getting off on a technicality."

"I'm not sure what he needs," she said in a small voice after a minute.

"Why don't you tell me the story and then we can decide together which memories you should submit?" Severus suggested kindly.

"Please. I'd appreciate it," Hermione said, smiling sadly at him. She really did not want to dwell on the war but if she was to be safe from reprisals, then the Death Eaters who had survived needed to be imprisoned.

Over the next few days Severus settled in, slightly puzzled by the Krums' gracious hospitality but very grateful for it. They made no demands of him and did not make him feel as though he was in their debt. Hermione's parents, who lived in a cottage on the Krum estate, were equally welcoming. Hermione was living in the main house so that she could have constant magical medical care, but her family was spending much of their time with their daughter and sister. The Grangers were making up for lost time, having spent so long apart when Hermione had gradually immersed herself in the wizarding world after starting Hogwarts.

During that time, Hermione told Severus the story of the Horcrux hunt, an experience which proved to be quite cathartic for her. With his input, she bottled up all the key memories from that dark time and Severus added his own contributions. They sealed and warded the vials of memories so that only Kingsley would be able to open them and Vonty delivered the vials to Kingsley's office when the Acting Minister was not present. Kingsley was therefore unable to trace Hermione and Severus' whereabouts, much to their relief; they were not ready for the British wizarding world to find them.

With the help of the vials of memories from Hermione and Severus, Kingsley was able to close all the Death Eater trials efficiently and effortlessly. The worst offenders were sentenced to death through the veil, while the remainder were sentenced to Azkaban. Harry and Ron's testimonies were laughable and were not used, much to the two arrogant boys' annoyance. Kingsley had a long talk with the two young men and told them in no uncertain terms that their attitude was not conducive to being Aurors. This was a long-held dream for both boys but they were so seduced by fame that they decided instead to pursue careers as professional Quidditch players.

Oliver Wood, who had been the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain during Harry's early years on the Gryffindor team at Hogwarts, had been playing professionally for Puddlemere United for three years now. Oliver put in a good word for Harry and this was enough to secure the younger boy a trial. Harry impressed the managers of the team at his trial and was taken on as reserve Seeker. Ronald, on the other hand, was a mediocre player at best and even his beloved Chudley Cannons, perennially bottom of the League, were not willing to offer him a position as a player. However, Harry spoke out about Ron's encyclopaedic knowledge of the sport, and Ron's instinctive grasp of strategy, and Puddlemere agreed to offer him a position as a junior trainee coach. Ron would have preferred to have been offered a position as a player but was not about to complain about the offer he did receive—at least he was still involved in professional Quidditch. Kingsley shook his head in exasperation but privately thanked his lucky stars that the two boys had bowed out of the Auror programme before time and resources had been wasted on trying to train them.

Unfortunately, out of spite because their testimony had been dismissed in favour of Hermione's, the two boys reported Hermione to the DMLE for having Obliviated her parents. Severus received a frantic letter from Kingsley explaining that Hermione needed to be interviewed urgently. Hermione agreed on condition that it would be Kingsley interviewing her and that he would swear an oath not to reveal her whereabouts without her permission. Upon his agreement, a portkey was sent to bring Kingsley to Bulgaria.

"Hello, Hermione," said Kingsley, smiling warmly at the clever young witch, who was lying in the garden on a lounger, propped up into a near sitting position by cushions. Hermione did not want news of her medical condition to filter back to Britain and refused to be interviewed while lying in bed. Hermione was wearing loose wizarding robes, which hid her slight baby bump nicely.

"Hello, Kingsley," she replied. "Forgive me for not getting up, but I don't want to disturb my sister," she said, indicating Miranda, who was sitting in her big sister's lap, looking at this new person and his colourful clothing with wide eyes. Miranda had been half asleep when Kingsley's arrival had woken her again and Hermione hoped she would slip back into her nap if she remained cuddled up to her big sister.

"That's quite all right," Kingsley replied.

"These are my parents, Helen and John, and this is Miranda," Hermione introduced her family, smiling fondly down at the little girl in her lap.

"I didn't know you had a sister," Kingsley commented.

"Mum told me she was pregnant when I returned home for the summer after fourth year. That was just after Voldemort arose again. Ron and Harry weren't really interested in my family as it was, and I decided that the less people knew, the safer Mum, Dad and Miranda would be," Hermione explained and Kingsley nodded in understanding.

"Now, I need to ask you about the time you were on the run, Hermione," the former Auror said, reminding everyone of the reason for his presence. "It has come to the attention of the DMLE that you Obliviated your parents of all knowledge of yourself. Doing that without official sanction is a serious charge."

Kingsley was surprised when the Grangers all began to laugh. Even Severus was smiling.

"Kingsley," said Hermione gently. "I was given no help in protecting my parents. The Order simply wasn't interested. I realise they couldn't protect the family of every Muggleborn, but I was a bigger target than every other Muggleborn. Fortunately, I was able to come up with a realistic plan to protect them but then I had to tell Harry and Ron what I had done. Two boys who had never learned Occlumency—Harry's lessons with Severus were an unmitigated disaster and it never occurred to Ron that maybe he ought to learn Occlumency as well. I don't know how good my shields are, but I least I tried to teach myself. Was I supposed to trust my family's safety to the boys' lack of shields? Was I supposed to trust that Voldemort might never come across the information as to where my parents were when he was using his connection with Harry? So I lied. I told them a completely false story and I don't regret it for an instant."

Kingsley sighed. "I'm glad to hear that you didn't try to Obliviate your parents, Hermione, but I need some kind of proof that you didn't, otherwise the Wizengamot is going to want to prosecute you."

"And the fact that here parents are sitting here isn't enough?" asked Severus sarcastically. "You know that an Obliviation of that magnitude could never be reversed, Kingsley."

"I know, but people are falling over themselves to appease Harry and since he and Ron were the ones who reported it…"

The betrayal of her supposed best friends stung, but Hermione was not surprised by this information. In talking to Severus and her parents about her experiences, she had come to terms with the fact that she had never truly been Harry and Ron's friend, only a tool.

Pulling out her wand, Hermione declared, "I, Hermione Jane Granger, swear on my magic that I did not Obliviate my parents and send them off to Australia with false identities. I swear that I deliberately misled Harry James Potter and Ronald Bilius Weasley in order to protect my parents in case we were ever captured and subjected to a Legilimency attack. Lumos." Hermione's wand lit up and Kingsley nodded in acceptance of her oath.

"You wouldn't have been protected against Veritaserum," the Minister observed neutrally.

"Yes, but how likely was anyone likely to have Veritaserum lying around? From what I understand, the average Death Eater's go-to solution to extract information from their captives was torture."

Severus nodded in agreement. "Torture was indeed the favoured method. They enjoyed it. Besides which, very few Death Eaters had any sort of skill at Legilimency and would not have trusted Veritaserum of my brewing because Death Eaters didn't trust each other, least of all me given my proximity to Dumbledore, and I was the only one capable of brewing it. That didn't leave any options other than torture even if they hadn't enjoyed it—and they would have been right not to trust the efficacy of any Veritaserum I provided. I used to provide the Dark Lord with a specially weakened formula. Strong enough not to make him suspicious but sufficiently weak that if there was something the recipient of the Veritserum particularly wanted to keep secret, they had a chance to overcome the complusion within the brew."

With that, Kingsley closed the interview and spent some time chatting to Severus and the Grangers before his portkey returned him to Britain. The Krums were deliberately staying out the way. It was expected that Kingsley would have to show his memory of the interview with Hermione for the charges to be dropped, and without their presence, no one would know exactly where she was; all anyone would see was an unidentifiable garden.

The interview over and the matter dropped without a stain on her name, Hermione was trying to figure out her next move. She wanted to sit her NEWTs once she was off bed-rest but did not want to go back to Britain to do so. Severus was the one to come up with a practical solution to this dilemma, and he contacted Madame Olympe Maxime, Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France, on Hermione's behalf.

The former Hogwarts Headmaster explained to Madame Maxime that Miss Granger felt there was no longer a place for her in magical Britain, however, she was very keen to complete her high school magical education and would it be possible for Miss Granger to sit her exams—discreetly—under the auspices of Beauxbatons? Madame Maxime, who was a half giantess, understood not feeling welcome in prejudiced Britain and promised her assistance. The Headmistress immediately owled through the Beauxbatons syllabi for the subjects Hermione wished to sit exams in, together with old exam papers so that the younger witch could accustom herself to the different style of the French examinations.

Madame Maxime authorised Severus to invigilate the written portions of the exams when Hermione was finally ready to sit them, trusting to Severus' long experience as a teacher to ensure that the exam conditions were appropriate. Hermione would not be able to do the practical components of her exams until she was off bed-rest and able to move around, but she was able to complete the academic portion of all her exams; the practicals would be taken as soon as Kosta and Tsveta permitted.

Over the course of her pregnancy, Severus spent much time talking to Hermione, and the two British magicals, who already had a respect and liking for each other, grew perceptibly closer. The Potions Master began to build up an owl order potions clientele, using the long-neglected but well-appointed potions lab in Krum Manor. Severus also spent much time working with Kosta, finally able to devote time to research now that the war was over and he was freed from his indentured slavery to Albus Dumbledore. With Kosta's knowledge of countering Dark Magic from a Healer's perspective, and Severus' own knowledge of both the Dark Arts and Potions, they had some very interesting joint projects in the works, not least of which was trying to develop a potion that would enable Hermione to manage the after-effects of Bellatrix Lestrange's Cruciatus Curse.

After a particularly bad seizure, Helen and John Granger sat down with Kosta and Severus to discuss options for Hermione. As dentists, the Grangers both had non-magical medical knowledge and they had been struck by how similar Hermione's episodes were to epileptic seizures.

"What is epilepsy?" asked Kosta in confusion.

Severus was sitting lost in deep thought. At last he stirred. "Of course," he said. Severus looked over to Kosta and explained. "In very simplistic terms, epilepsy is a condition where nerve cells in one area of the brain, or in multiple areas of the brain, signal abnormally to each other. When nerve cells fire abnormally, they can cause a seizure. While one seizure can occur under certain conditions in anybody, epilepsy is a condition where somebody has recurring seizures. These individuals frequently require medication to manage their condition and control their seizures. I suppose we could take Hermione to a non-magical doctor but if he or she starts inquiring as to the origin of Hermione's condition, then we're in trouble," Severus said doubtfully. "The best thing would be if I could obtain Muggle medication and analyse the anti-seizure properties of it to see if I can develop a magical equivalent. To be honest, I'm not sure that non-magical medication would be particularly effective on a witch. Besides, while Hermione has some epileptic symptoms, her condition isn't exactly epilepsy; rather, it's the after-effects of a particularly foul magical curse."

Helen and John exchanged a long look. "We know some drug reps," John said dubiously, "but it's not easy to get hold of drugs, and as dentists, drug reps aren't very likely to leave us samples of epileptic drugs."

This time it was Severus and Kosta's turn to share a look. "How do you fancy a spot of breaking and entering?" Severus asked wryly. "Unless, of course, you have contacts in the Muggle world? Or contacts in the wizarding world who have appropriate Muggle contacts?"

"I will check in the hospital," said Kosta. "Tsveta will also ask around."

The upshot was that Kosta's wife, Florentine, who was an Unspeakable, contacted various Ministries around the world until she was put in contact with a chemist in a Muggle pharmaceutical company who knew of the wizarding world. He was unable to provide Severus with pills to analyse, as his company was very strict about their drug count, but he did manage to provide a list of the standard components used in most anti-epileptic drugs. Severus would have preferred to have received actual pills but this would suffice; and so he set to analysing the anti-seizure components of these drugs and to determining a suitable magical equivalent.

Of course, Severus did not succeed overnight. It was all a bit trial-and-error at first, but Hermione was very closely monitored to ensure that both she and the baby remained safe and unharmed by the experimental potions. It was only after the baby was born that Severus finally had a breakthrough and succeeded in creating the potion that Hermione so badly needed. The young mother would need to take a dose every day but it would make all the difference to her quality of life. As it was, she had been so weakened by her months of seizures that the medicals were all considering whether or not Hermione should use calliper crutches and leg braces from now on, to give her weakened legs additional support. The crutches were a must but the braces had been delegated wait-and-see.

Unfortunately, Hermione's condition had weakened more than just her legs. The spasms in her arms and hands had reduced the accuracy of her spell-casting. The power remained but, thanks to the tremors, the aim was off. During her months of bed-rest, the gestating witch had been considering what career she wished to pursue once she had her high school qualifications. A Mastery was a definite; it was the specific subject that was open to question. Hermione's favourite subject in school had been Arithmancy. That was an elective that she began only in her third year of Hogwarts and, prior to that, the bushy-haired witch's favourite subject had been Charms. Hermione was also very interested—understandably so, given the circumstances—in Potions, and the idea of learning from a Master of Severus Snape's calibre was irresistible. Unfortunately, Hermione no longer had the fine motor control needed for either chopping potions ingredients accurately and uniformly, or for the detailed and intricate wandwork that would be required of a Charms Master; she could cope up to final school level but would never be able to manage much beyond that. That being the case, Hermione defaulted to her favourite subject: Arithmancy. This decision had the added advantage that Rada Krum was an Arithmancy Mistress and was willing to take Hermione on as her apprentice.

Hermione had debated the pros and cons of each possible Mastery with the entire extended family: her parents, Severus, Rada, Marko, Viktor, Tsveta, Kosta and Florentine. The young witch had been slightly disappointed that the decision had been taken out of her hands, but in the end, she did not actually regret her choice, given her love for Arithmancy, and she was looking forward to getting stuck into her studies after the baby would be born. Rada, as an honorary second grandmother, was of course perfectly willing to wait until Hermione was ready to start work after giving birth and also to give the young mother a light workload at first, while she learned to juggle her child and her studies.

Kosta allowed Hermione out of bed two weeks before her due date. At that time, it would not matter if she went into labour. As soon as Hermione received the all-clear, Madame Maxime brought one of the French examiners to the Krum estate to supervise Hermione's practical exams, as the young witch wanted to complete her International Magical Baccalaureate before the baby would be born. Olympe, who had been Tsveta's Headmistress, had become a regular visitor, as she kept an eye on Hermione's studies. The French Headmistress did not make such an effort for all independent study students who used Beauxbatons as their examination centre, but Olympe was delighted with the cachet that the exam results of the brightest witch of her age would undoubtedly bring to Beauxbatons. Madame Maxime was secretly looking forward to getting one over on the very uptight Minerva McGonagall—a sentiment with which Severus Snape wholeheartedly agreed.

"'Ogwarts would be better off wiz you at ze 'elm," Olympe observed to Severus.

"Merlin forbid!" Severus replied wholeheartedly, much to both Olympe and Hermione's amusement.

To no one's surprise—except perhaps Hermione's—her exam results were superb. "If you had been sitting NEWTs, you would very likely have received the highest scores this century, surpassing even my scores, Minerva's, Filius' and the Dark Lord's scores. I think you probably would have matched Dumbledore's," observed Severus, as Hermione went wide-eyed in shock at that revelation.

"I think I'm glad I wasn't sitting NEWTs then," she whispered. "I don't need any more targets painted on my back by Pureblood idiots."

"And they really are nearly all idiots," Severus agreed. "At least in Britain, anyway. Of those names I just mentioned, every single one of us is a Half-blood, apart from yourself, who is Muggleborn. There's not one Pureblood among the lot of us."

Hermione smirked in response. "I know my life would have been much easier if I'd been a Pureblood—or at least a Half-blood—but I'm glad I'm not. Quite aside from the fact that I wouldn't want to be as much of an imbecile as some of the people I went to school with, I like knowing I'm better than all those Pureblood bigots despite being a despised Mudblood."

Severus really did not like that word but in this instance he could only agree with the sentiments being expressed.

Once her exams were over, Hermione did as Severus had suggested and checked on Harry. Viktor and Tsveta were friends with Bill and Fleur Weasley. Tsveta, who was half French on her mother's side, had been Fleur's best friend in Beauxbatons. Additionally, Fleur and Viktor had formed a friendship during the Triwizard Tournament in Hogwarts three years previously. The younger Krums therefore discreetly sounded out the Weasley couple with regard to Harry Potter. Viktor and Tsveta were dismayed to hear that not only had Harry not cared to find out where his supposed best friend had disappeared to, but the younger man's arrogance was steadily increasing.

Despite their discretion, however, Fleur and Bill put two and two together. "You know where Hermione is, don't you?" asked Bill. "Give her our love and tell her we hope she's happy. She's better off being away from Britain. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Acting Minister, is trying to improve things but he's not having much luck. He doesn't have the support he needs. Everyone's glad the war is over and the right side won, and now they're happy to forget everything that happened and just carry on exactly as before."

"It's not so much that they disagree with Voldemort's views, more that they disagree with his methods," Fleur snorted.

Fleur was more perceptive than her husband—or perhaps it was woman's intuition. Either way, the French quarter-Veela knew Tsveta very well and recognised that her friend was hiding something. "There's a reason why you're asking about Harry, isn't there?" she asked in her own language. "It's something to do with Hermione?"

Tsveta did not reply, but after staring intently at her friend for a few minutes, Fleur put two and two together. "Merde!" she whispered. Tsveta neither confirmed nor denied Fleur's suspicions and that was enough to make it very obvious to Fleur that her suspicions were correct.

"Don't worry," she whispered to Tsveta. "I won't say a word. Not even to Bill. I assure you that Harry—it is Harry, isn't it; you were asking about him and not Ronald—Harry will not want this child. He and my sister-in-law, Ginevra, are strutting around as though they're royalty. Harry gets very ugly on the rare occasions when Hermione is mentioned, and Ginevra and Ron just smirk smugly. Harry has made it very clear he doesn't want Hermione in his life; he certainly won't want a child with her. I am certain that his reaction to learning Hermione is having his child will be very unpleasant, and it will only get messier once my in-laws become involved."

It was not long before Hermione went into labour and a beautiful little girl was born. Hermione's daughter had her birth father's hair colour but everything else about her was pure Hermione. The baby was born with a mop of wild curls and her eyes were, very unusually, already Hermione's chocolate brown. Hermione was quite relieved to see was nothing in the baby's features to indicate her parentage on her father's side and that was just fine with Hermione—she had been dreading the possibility of her baby having Harry Potter's distinctive green eyes.

"What are you going to call her, honey?" asked John a couple of days after the baby was born. The labour had been difficult because of Hermione's physical condition, and the new mother had been too exhausted for this conversation until now. The whole extended family was sitting around Hermione's bed as she cradled her new-born daughter in her arms. Miranda was sitting on her Severus' lap, having taken a liking to the dark man, looking at her niece in awe.

"Violeta," Hermione replied, smiling tiredly at the precious little girl in her arms.

"That's a pretty name," said Helen.

Hermione smiled. "Violeta was born here in Bulgaria and I wanted to acknowledge the country of her birth, the country that gave us refuge and has welcomed us. At the same time, we're British and I want her to have a connection to that heritage. So I wanted a name that would sound good in both languages. I also wanted to thank Viktor, Tsveta and your families, for all the help and support you've given us, and I felt that Violeta's name reflected that. I believe Tsveta means both 'colour' and 'flower'?"

Tsveta smiled and nodded. Hermione smiled back at her. "Violeta is both a colour and a flower, so that's honouring Tsveta in her name. And, of course, for V for Viktor, V for Violeta. So it's like naming her after Viktor and Tsveta, in a roundabout sort of way."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, then sighed and continued. "Those are my main reasons but there's also one other reason, one which none of you will like. I hope you'll hear me out before you object. Harry's mother and aunt both had flower names—Petunia and Lily. It's not Violeta's fault her birth father has rejected us."

A few hours after Violeta was born, Vonty had delivered a letter for Harry to Bill Weasley, telling Harry of his daughter's birth. Bill had immediately given it to Harry, who upon seeing Hermione's handwriting on the envelope, had immediately incinerated the letter without even opening it and had then spent the next twenty minutes ranting about how he wanted nothing more to do with Hermione Granger. In truth, Hermione had only tried to tell Harry about Violeta because she knew it was the right thing to do and not because she felt that he would want to know his daughter. When she had heard back from Bill about Harry's response, she had shrugged and said, "I have a clear conscience. I did the right thing. Bill and Fleur are welcome to tell Harry about Violeta at any time if they feel he'll be receptive towards her. Otherwise, it's his loss."

Now, Hermione continued her explanation as to why she had chosen the name Violeta. "Violeta has a much better father figure in Severus than in Harry, anyway. Severus has loved her like she was his own ever since he found out I was pregnant. I expect she'll have Severus well and truly wrapped around her little finger in no time at all—in fact, I rather think she has already! Anyway, I don't want to do the same thing to Violeta as was done to Harry. I saw how hard it was for him to grow up knowing absolutely nothing about his family, having no connection whatsoever to it. She deserves to inherit something of her paternal heritage, to have something of her birth-right, even if it's nothing more than a flower name like her grandmother and great-aunt."

Several members of the family looked like they were going to object but, in truth, they could not disagree with Hermione's reasoning. And it was indeed a very pretty name. So they all privately resolved to ignore that last reason for Violeta's name and focus on the, to them, more positive reasons instead.

Unfortunately, it was soon clear that Violeta had inherited some of her mother's physical problems from the Cruciatus Curse. Violeta did not have the seizures or convulsions but she had the physical weakness that Hermione had developed and, like her mother, once she started walking, Violeta was going to need the support of calliper crutches and very possibly also leg braces. This did not make the extended family reject the little girl, however; rather they became even more protective of her, especially Severus. Due to their physical disability and need for assistance, Hermione, despite her reservations, ended up bonding to a lady house elf named Tarkie, and another lady house elf, named Jikki, was bonded to Violeta. Both Hermione and Violeta grew to become very grateful for the assistance of their bonded elves.

Hermione began her Mastery studies when Violeta was four months old. Her daughter spent a lot of time with her grandparents while Hermione was absorbed with her Mastery studies, although the young mother was very careful to put in only a certain amount of hours each day and no more. The rest of the time she spent with Violeta, and both mother and daughter were happily flourishing. When Severus was researching rather than brewing, he usually had Violeta in tow—and often Miranda as well. Hermione was right: the baby witch had Severus completely wrapped around her little finger practically from the day she was born, while Miranda had achieved the same thing the first day she met Severus, when she had insisted he be the one to read her a bed-time story.

As Hermione progressed in her Mastery studies, she began working with Severus. He appreciated the input of an Arithmancy expert in his research and Dumbledore had never permitted the Hogwarts Arithmancy Mistress to work with Severus. Not that she would have wanted do to so, anyway—Septima Vector and Severus Snape had not been on cordial terms. Severus had been trying to cure lycanthropy for many years but his research had stalled some years previously. Wolfsbane only enabled a werewolf to manage their condition; it was nowhere near a cure. Now, however, with Kosta's input and Hermione's Arithmantic contributions, the research took on a new lease of life. The final key was provided by John and Helen Granger. Upon their recommendation, Severus approached the Bulgarian Ministry with a request to consult with non-magical physicians and scientists. The Ministry put Severus in touch with a virologist who was a Squib, and he in turn introduced Severus to a geneticist who was aware of the magical world, since her sister was a witch. The contributions of Kosta and the two scientists were invaluable, but ultimately, it was Severus and Hermione who put all the elements together and finally managed to effect a complete cure for lycanthropy.

Hermione's well-publicised involvement in the development of the Werescure established her firmly as one of the world's top Arithmancy Mistresses. The young witch's skills were called upon from the international community around the globe, although there was a suspicious silence from Britain. Not that Hermione cared. By the time the Werescure had been published, Hermione and Severus were married. Her desire to spend as much time as possible with her husband and daughter, combined with her physical condition, made Hermione very reluctant to travel much but, fortunately, her work could easily be done from home. If anyone needed to speak to the extraordinarily gifted and intelligent young woman in person, rather corresponding with her by letter, they were invited to visit her, rather than the other way round. Very few refused the invitation and Hermione always said that if a project was not important enough for the person wanting to contract her services to travel to meet with a disabled mother, then the project could not have been that important to begin with.

Severus and Hermione married when Violeta was two, after a long discussion about Lily Potter. Hermione had heard Harry declare to Voldemort during the Final Battle that everything Severus had done had been for Lily, after all.

"I stopped loving Lily long ago," Severus assured Hermione. "I did what I did for her sake, because I felt I owed it to her, not because I still loved her. I needed Dumbledore to believe I still loved her, though. That was what kept him trusting me. Despite the Unbreakable Vow I swore to him, he wouldn't have trusted me otherwise. If he had no longer trusted me, if he had no longer thought I was useful to him, he would have discarded me without a second's thought, and that would have meant my death. I didn't expect to survive the war but I needed to see it through to the end, to know I had done everything I could to help defeat the Dark Lord. Potter and I were very alike in that respect: we were both pawns, who were easily discarded. Dumbledore never bothered to get to know us or understand us, and he intended for us both to die. Without that understanding, Dumbledore needed an obvious motivation on my part and Lily was that motivation in his eyes. The only difference was that the old goat at least pretended to like and care for Potter. With me, well, he saw no need to pretend with a slave."

Upon their marriage, Severus and Hermione were granted Bulgarian citizenship, which they gratefully accepted; the newly married couple was very happy in Bulgaria and had no intention of returning to Britain, the source of so much misery for them both. The Snapes remained close to the Krums and, as their wedding present, were gifted with what had once been a Dower House on the edge of the Krum estate; it was all on one floor and so was perfectly suited for Hermione and Violeta's physical restrictions. There was concern that in time, one or both of the Snape women might need a wheelchair, and this house, with its spacious rooms and grand doorways, was already appropriate for wheelchair use.

Bill and Fleur's friendship with Viktor and Tsveta was soon extended to Hermione and Severus. The Weasley couple had moved to France a year or so after the war, to put some distance between themselves and the rest of the Weasleys. Molly and Ginny still did not much like Fleur and did not hesitate to make their feelings known, Ron was too susceptible to Fleur's Veela allure for comfort, and Harry was as henpecked by Ginny as Arthur was by Molly.

Bill was now teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts in Beauxbatons, while Fleur was pursuing a Charms Mastery at her Alma mater, with the intention of teaching there afterwards. Charlie Weasley, still working at the dragon reserve in Romania, also visited the Krums and Snapes frequently, whenever he was on a mission to catch a dragon that was roaming wild in Bulgaria. The wild dragons were taken to the reserve in Romania, so that the dragon, the countryside and the local population would all be safe and protected. Bill, Fleur and Charlie were the only Weasleys Hermione had any contact with. None of the other Weasleys knew—or cared—where Hermione was, although to give George the benefit of the doubt, he had still not recovered from the loss of his twin and was most likely completely oblivious to the fact that he had not seen Hermione since the Final Battle. Nor did Harry care about Hermione, and she was perfectly happy with that situation; she was too busy and too happy to think about her erstwhile friends.

.o.O.o.

When Violeta was six years old, the Holyhead Harpies, the professional Quidditch team that Ginevra Weasley Potter played for, came to Bulgaria to play a match against Viktor's team, the Vratsa Vultures. Kingsley, the British Minister for Magic, together with a number of other British bigwigs—namely, the Head of the Department of Magical Games & Sports and the Head of the Department of International Cooperation—would be present and when Severus and Hermione, as the Premier Potions Master and Arithmancy Mistress in Europe, were invited to grace the top box with the Bulgarian Minister's party, they could not bring themselves to insult the Bulgarian Minister by refusing.

Miranda and Violeta were very excited about the possibility of watching Viktor play in a professional Quidditch match and so Hermione and Severus decided to bring the two girls with them; it would be a special experience for Violeta and Miranda, despite the likelihood of Severus and Hermione having to cope with whichever assorted Weasleys (if they counted Harry as a Weasley) might be present.

The Snapes arrived early for the match, as it would be easier for Hermione and Violeta if they avoided the crowds, and found themselves seats in the furthest corner of the top box, out of the way. Tsveta was also working since she was the Vratsa Vultures' Mediwitch, and so her and Viktor's children, Nikolay and Irina, were with the Snapes, Violeta sitting in between her parents and the other three children sitting together in seats in front of Severus and Hermione.

Hermione was very nervous about who she might see at this match but Severus was not convinced that her idiotic former friends, should they be at the match, would even recognise her. His wife had grown into a beautiful woman and looked very different from the girl she had been in her Hogwarts days. She now dressed to impress whenever leaving her home on the edge of the Krum estate—her position as a leading Arithmancy Mistress, and as the wife of a leading Potions Master, demanded it. As guests of the Bulgarian Minister, and knowing who else would be in the top box, Hermione made sure to dress the part, even if this was only a Quidditch match. Her hair was swept into an elegant updo and she wore the finest of robes.

It was not long before the Minister's party swept into the box and the Bulgarian Minister graciously introduced Hermione and Severus to the foreign dignitaries.

"We're old friends," said Kingsley with a warm smile. "It's good to see you both again. I've been following your careers with interest. Congratulations on the Werescure; that was an incredible achievement."

"The culmination of very many years of research and hard work," said Severus wryly. "It's good to see you, too, Kingsley."

Kingsley settled himself in an empty seat next to them and the three adults chatted easily as they caught up on what had happened in their lives over the last few years. Kingsley took it upon himself to apologise for the fact that no one in Britain seemed willing to consult with Hermione or Severus. "You can't force people to change their minds, no matter how wrong they may be," the British Minister said with resignation. "All I can do is recommend."

"We understand and we certainly don't blame you, Kingsley," said Hermione in shock. It had never occurred to her to blame the Minister. The Arithmancy Mistress knew just how prejudiced Britain was and there would never be any real desire to utilise the services of a Muggleborn witch whose very existence disproved the prejudices they had lived by for centuries, and Severus was no more popular in Britain than she was. It was far more convenient and comfortable for such a hidebound and biased society to ignore them.

Kingsley decided it was time to change the subject. "Who are these?" he asked, indicating the children with a smile.

"These are Nikolay and Irina Krum," replied Severus. "I'm sure you remember Hermione's sister, Miranda, and this is our daughter, Violeta."

"It's nice to meet you all. I'm an old friend of your parents, Violeta. May I ask how old you are?"

"I'm six," whispered the curly-haired girl, who was quite shy. She was very self-conscious about her disability. Crutches were not a common sight in the wizarding world and the stares she tended to receive as a result of using them made her very uncomfortable.

"You must have had her very soon after the war," Kingsley commented with a raised eyebrow. He knew that the Snapes had only been married for four years and wondered why they had taken so long to wed, if they already had a child together. Violeta got her hair colour from her biological father but as Severus also had black hair, Kingsley did not realise that Severus was not Violeta's birth father.

"We did," said Severus shortly, closing the subject.

Just minutes before the match was due to begin, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley swaggered in, their entire demeanour full of self-importance. Severus quietly snorted at the sight of them. "Tell me they're not still adulated as heroes?" he begged Kingsley quietly. "Surely by now, the wizarding public in Britain must have got over the war."

Kingsley snorted in turn. "They believe they're still adulated but they're not. They're wheeled out for the annual war memorial event and other similar public functions—the Ministry Yule Ball, for example—but they're not taken seriously and they certainly have no political clout. Most people regard them as fools and they're too dim to realise they're being made fun of, much of the time. They could have had influence, but they chose to become like Ludo Bagman, pretty but dim."

At that, Severus gave a positively evil grin, Hermione smirking at his side. "What of Professor McGonagall?" she asked maliciously, nodding towards the stern woman who had trailed into the top box in Harry and Ron's wake. "Does the Headmistress still fawn all over them?"

"No, even Minerva has finally realised Potter and Weasley are non-entities. She asked them to come and address the school a while ago, to inspire the students. Unfortunately for the Headmistress, they turned up completely unprepared and could barely string together a coherent sentence between the pair of them. They only ended up embarrassing themselves, and her. To be honest, Molly and Ginevra are the only Weasleys who have any time for them. Everyone else just smiles politely and quietly ignores them both."

"My heart bleeds," drawled Severus sarcastically.

The match began and the three adults turned their attention to the game, which was played fast and furious, a far cry from the school games Hermione was more used to. She was not really a fan of Quidditch and did not usually go to Viktor's matches. About an hour into the game, Violeta, who had been fidgeting in her seat for the last few minutes, swivelled round and tugged at Hermione's robes. "I need the toilet, Mama," she whimpered.

"I'll take her. It will be easier than if Violeta tries to navigate past everyone," Severus said quietly, picking up his daughter and perching her on his hip.

Kingsley turned to Hermione questioningly after Severus had taken the little girl away and Hermione smiled wryly at him. "There was a long delay before I could get any treatment after being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange during the war. It wasn't until I got to Bulgaria that I received any medical attention, in fact. Severus says there was something particularly corrupt about Bellatrix's Cruciatus, or her magic, or both, and that, combined with the long delay before treatment, has left me with long-term problems. Unfortunately, I seem to have passed on some of those problems to Violeta while she was in the womb. We both need to use crutches for support and, in this instance, it was easier for Severus to carry Violeta than for her to try and squeeze past everyone with her crutches." Not wanting anyone to realise that Violeta's problems were actually because Hermione had been pregnant when tortured in case they should realise that Severus could not therefore be Violeta's biological father, the family tended to fudge the issue somewhat. Besides, the explanation Hermione had given Kingsley was not technically untrue, even if it had omitted that detail.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Hermione," Kingsley said sincerely. "But why didn't you seek medical attention before you arrived in Bulgaria? Why wait so long?"

"You think I chose to wait?" Hermione asked incredulously. "When we made it out of Malfoy Manor, there were no Healers we could go to. We were still on the run and regarded as top undesirables. After the war, I was too scared to go to St Mungo's on my own—I didn't know who were and who weren't Voldemort sympathisers and what sort of danger I might be putting myself in—and Madam Pomfrey didn't seem to realise that I needed treatment, despite the time I spent working in the hospital wing with her. I concluded that since that the war was over and I'd kept Harry alive long enough to kill Voldemort, I was no longer of importance. That's when I decided to leave."

"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit, Hermione?" asked Kingsley unbelievingly.

"No, I'm not. Would you like to see my memories of that time?" she retorted.

"But Madam Pomfrey can't have denied you treatment. It's against the oaths she took as a Mediwitch," he protested.

"Oh, she didn't outright deny me treatment," said Hermione. "She just gave me no opportunity to ask for it. She seemed to be utterly oblivious to my need for treatment, even though I was having convulsions on the infirmary floor. I was useful when I was helping the boys with their schoolwork. I was useful when I was helping the boys during the war—I was the one who made all the contingency plans, they wouldn't have lasted two days without me. After the war was over and the boys had made it clear they were no longer interested in being my friend, my usefulness was over and I was promptly discarded."

By this time, a number of people in the top box were looking round to see the source of the conversation. Hermione had utilised the Muffliato charm before beginning her rant. This charm created a low-pitched buzzing which prevented speech within the area of the charm being heard. The buzzing sounded like the buzz of speech, which was pitched too low for others to hear. Harry and Ron had recognised the sound of the Muffliato and had looked around to see who was using it. This spell had been created by Severus in his youth and was not widely known.

They stared in confusion at the beautiful and elegant woman sitting next to Kingsley. There was something familiar about her but they could not place her, until she pointed her finger angrily at Kingsley in a very familiar gesture to the two boys, who had been at the receiving end of that same angry finger many times over six years at Hogwarts and another year on the run during the war.

"Granger?!" exclaimed Ron incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione ignored them, and concentrated on Irina, who was thirsty and had asked for a drink. Seeing this, Harry began to laugh.

"How the mighty have fallen," he gloated. "Look at her, Ron. The stuck-up bint who thought she was so clever is the Krums' nanny! She's just a servant!"

Ron began to laugh raucously. "Don't think you're going to get your claws back into Krum, Granger. He's married and his wife is much prettier than a know-it-all bookworm."

Around the top box, members of the ministerial party were looking disgusted by the uncouth and puerile behaviour being displayed by these two supposedly grown men. As Severus came back, he noticed the atmosphere. Raising an eyebrow at Hermione, she rolled her eyes in response and he nodded once in understanding. Handing over his daughter to her mother, the once dreaded Potions Professor turned round to the former banes of his life, smirking when he saw them blanch at the sight of him.

"Is there a problem here?" Severus asked mildly.

Emboldened by the deceptively mellow tones of their one-time nemesis, Harry began to laugh mockingly. "No, we were just warning Granger away from Viktor Krum. We all know she likes famous boyfriends but he's married. She must be desperate by now. Who'd want an ugly cow like her, after all?"

At this, Kingsley spoke up. "Madam Snape, I must apologise for the insults directed towards you by members of my country," he said formally, with a subtle wink towards Hermione and Severus.

"Whu.. What?" stammered Ron, in bewilderment.

Kingsley sighed theatrically. "Potions Master Snape and Arithmancy Mistress Snape are both highly respected Bulgarian citizens and I would greatly appreciate it if you did not create an international incident by insulting them, Weasley and Potter. I would also appreciate it if you would refrain from starting a fight in front of the children," he said. Even Harry and Ron, not the brightest of sparks, recognised the clear warning tone in Kingsley's voice and smothered the comments they had been poised to make.

Dismissing the two oafs as unimportant, Kingsley introduced his colleagues to the Snapes. "Hermione, Severus, I'd like you to meet Anemone Sykes, the Head of the Department of Magical Games & Sports, and Justin Triggs, the Head of the Department of International Cooperation. Anemone, Justin, please meet Potions Master Severus Snape and his wife, Arithmancy Mistress Hermione Snape. Master and Mistress Snape are the world's most preeminent Masters in their fields. In fact, they were responsible for the cure of lycanthropy."

Harry and Ron had been following the conversation uncomprehendingly. Much of what Kingsley had just said went right over their heads. However, Ron picked up on the last comment and could not resist running his mouth off.

"Yeah, well, so what? It was too bloody late for Remus, wasn't it?" Ron groused.

Hermione rolled her eyes again. Ron still has no filter on his mouth. Of course, that would require the words to go via what passes for his brain before they come falling out his mouth. Is he ever going to grow up? she snarked to herself.

"Don't talk of what you know nothing about, Weasley!" Severus snapped, finally losing his temper. "Do you have any idea how hard it was? How many years I spent working on that cure? And that was with Dumbledore handicapping me. I needed the assistance of a Healer who was familiar with lycanthropy and a Master Arithmancer. Dumbledore wouldn't let Pomfrey or Vector work with me because the old fool wanted to keep Lupin obliged to him. Did you never wonder why Lupin was the only werewolf ever to attend Hogwarts, even after Wolfsbane had been invented? Because Dumbledore wanted to be the only influence on Potter, he wanted to be the person that Potter revered, and Lupin was so grateful to the old man for allowing him to attend Hogwarts despite his affliction, that he practically venerated Dumbledore and was bound to encourage that same attitude in Potter. Lupin was useful, other werewolves were not. Hermione and I approached the Bulgarian Ministry, which put us in touch with Muggle and Squib scientists, and together with the assistance of a specialist Healer, we finally managed to create a cure. It was very much a team effort and with Dumbledore not permitting me to put together such a team previously, it simply wasn't possible to effect such a cure until I moved to Bulgaria after the war."

Harry and Ron fell silent, most Severus' speech having gone right over their heads. Even those two dimwits could see that the majority of the people in the top box were in sympathy with the Potions Master.

Hermione, however, stared at her former friends in disbelief. What's happened to them? They weren't this… thick back when I knew them. Did they just switch their brains off once they had finished school and were no longer required to use them? Or did they get hit with some kind of stupidity spell during the war? Well, Ron never was the brightest of sparks and Harry seems to have turned into a clone of his cousin, who he once despised. Well, he didn't really have a proper example of how to behave while he was growing up, I suppose.

Severus smirked as he noticed Minerva bristling over his criticisms of Albus Dumbledore. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could say in her late mentor's defence as every word Severus had uttered was true and she knew it.

As Violeta awkwardly clambered off Hermione's knee and back into her seat with the aid of her crutches, Minerva turned her attention to the little girl. "Why does the child need crutches? What's wrong with her?" the Headmistress demanded brusquely.

"I would prefer not to discuss Violeta's condition," said Hermione acidly, emphasising her daughter's name. "That's confidential information."

"Well, I'll need to know," the elderly witch huffed in indignation.

Severus raised a disdainful eyebrow. "And just why would our daughter's medical condition be any concern of yours?" he drawled.

"Well, I'll need to know what arrangements to make when she comes to Hogwarts," Minerva blustered.

"Why bother? You don't want a gimp at Hogwarts," scoffed Harry. "What a waste of space!"

Hermione was boiling inside. In spite of Bill and Fleur strongly advising against it, she had on occasion over the years felt guilty for not trying again to inform Harry that he was a father but now she was grateful she had not done so. Violeta may not know what a gimp was but she knew it was nothing good. The little girl was quietly sobbing and Hermione lifted Violeta back onto her knee and cradled her protectively, surreptitiously palming her wand at the same time, even though she knew Harry and Ron would never be able to get past Severus if they tried to hex her or Violeta.

"I'd be careful what you say, Potter," Severus hissed, seeing that his wife was busy comforting their daughter. "Since it's partly your fault that Violeta is disabled. Hermione has ongoing physical problems from the torture she received at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange during the war. Torture that would never have happened if you had engaged what little brain you possess and had avoided shouting out the name of the Dark Lord, when you knew full well that there was a taboo in place. Violeta was affected while in the womb by her mother's condition and has consequently inherited some physical problems of her own—something that would never have happened if you had just had a little self-control."

Seeing that Harry was thankfully speechless, Hermione turned to Minerva. "Who says Violeta will be attending Hogwarts anyway? Why on earth would you assume we would want to send our daughter there, of all places?" Hermione snapped at the uptight women she had once respected.

"Well, of course she'll be attending Hogwarts. Both her parents did," replied Minerva in shock.

"So?" asked Hermione. "Severus was bullied horrendously at Hogwarts for seven years while the staff stood back and did nothing about it. Severus was nearly murdered by Sirius Black and no one seemed to think there was anything wrong with that. Severus hated his time at Hogwarts, both as student and professor. As for me…"

"As for my wife," Severus interrupted in a dangerously icy tone. "Hermione spent six years being called a Mudblood and looked down upon as inferior, simply because of her parentage. She was tolerated—and that only barely—for only as long as she was nursing those two imbeciles over there through school and a war. She fought that self-same war for seven years, only to be discarded and thrown out like so much garbage as soon as the war was over and she was no longer useful."

Hermione took back the baton. "On the other hand, Madame Maxime was absolutely delightful when I contacted her to sit my International Magical Baccalaureate through Beauxbatons; she was extremely helpful and very accommodating. Violeta is trilingual—she speaks fluent English, Bulgarian and French—so she won't be held back by any language issues if we send her to Beauxbatons. I have no doubt that Violeta will flourish in the more international and cosmopolitan atmosphere of Beauxbatons than she would in the close-minded and provincial atmosphere of Hogwarts."

After that scathing denunciation of Hogwarts, Minerva looked as though she had swallowed a wasp. Minerva McGonagall, a Half-blood whose Pureblood mother had been disowned for marrying her Muggle father, had learned very quickly after starting Hogwarts at the age of eleven that her lack of influential family ties within the wizarding world put her at a distinct disadvantage. She had therefore chosen to attach herself to the coat-tails of those who were powerful and influential, Albus Dumbledore in particular.

After the war, the elderly witch had seen the adulation that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were receiving and she had also noted the way Hermione Granger was being ignored, especially by the two boys. Minerva had therefore decided to throw her support behind Harry, congratulating herself on making the right decision when Hermione had skulked off after the Final Battle, never to return. Now, however, Minerva was not so sanguine. The Headmistress was part of the wizarding academic world and she had heard about Hermione's superb results on her International Magical Baccalaureate. That had been bad enough by itself, but then to watch Hermione's star rise as an Arithmancy Mistress and know that the young witch's academic success was being attributed to Beauxbatons rather than to Hogwarts ate at the old witch's soul. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were widely regarded with contempt; even Minerva could no longer deny that the pair truly were the dunderheaded buffoons Severus had claimed them to be throughout their schooling, and she had realised long ago that she had backed the wrong people to follow. Unfortunately for Minerva, in so doing, she had dug herself a hole she could not climb out of.

Severus and Hermione gave the Headmistress no chance to respond and turned back to the match. "Look, Violeta! Uncle Viktor's going after the snitch!" Hermione cried, pointing him out to her daughter.

Sure enough, Viktor pulled out of a sharp dive, the snitch held triumphantly in his hand. To Harry, Ron and Minerva's dismay, but Hermione and Severus' delight, the Vratsa Vultures had won the match. When the winning team came to the top box to meet the dignitaries, a quick, muttered word from the Bulgarian Minister of Magic had Viktor ignoring Harry and Ron when they strutted towards him.

"Viktor! Well done, mate!" called Ron, as he approached the Bulgarian player.

Viktor looked down his nose at Ron. "Do I know you?" he asked, and turned away. He kissed his excited children and Miranda, who had all run over to hug him, and plucked Violeta off Hermione's lap. "Did you enjoy the match, sweetling?" he asked, using Severus' pet name for Violeta. The team chatted to the Snapes and the rest of the Ministerial party, but ignored Harry, Ron and Minerva, much to the frustration of the three self-important fools.

"Would you like to fly with me on our victory lap, if your Mama allows?" Viktor asked Violeta. Viktor had often taken the little girl up on his broom and he was very careful with her. Knowing that Viktor was making a point, Hermione nodded with a wry smile. Miranda, Nikolay and Irina were taken up by some of Viktor's team-mates for the victory lap, while Viktor himself carefully settled Violeta on his broom in front of him. Miranda—unlike her big sister, Hermione—and Nikolay and Irina had no fear on a broom and were frequently taken up by Viktor's team-mates, but Viktor would not trust anyone else with his precious goddaughter. Holding the curly-haired little witch tightly, he zipped away to do the victory lap, closely followed by his team-mates. All four children were laughing uproariously as they zoomed around the pitch.

Harry and Ron, proving that they were indeed the imbeciles Severus had dubbed them, approached Viktor as he and his team-mate returned Violeta and Miranda to the top box; his other team-mates had taken his own children through the tunnel to the changing room, where Tsveta was waiting for them.

"Why are you bothering about that?" asked Ron snidely, pointing aggressively towards the little witch, who was now safely in her father's arms, while Miranda hid behind Hermione.

"Who are the mean people, Mama?" asked Violeta in a quiet voice that nevertheless carried throughout the box.

Hermione did not spare her erstwhile friends and former Head of House so much as a backward glance. "No one important, sweetling. No one important at all," Hermione assured the little girl, putting Harry, Ron and Minerva from her mind once and for all, as Severus apparated his family away.