While I've read some fan fiction stories I'd swear were written by J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't presume this one to be in that category.

Over the next two days, Ron's condition remained stable but, to everyone's disappointment, did not improve. Nonetheless, at least Rose and Hugo were able to spend longer periods of time with their still unconscious father. With her husband's magical core no longer deteriorating, Hermione spent Friday night in her own bed for the first time in a week. She met Harry at St. Mungo's cafeteria Saturday morning for coffee and a muffin. "Have you heard anything more from Professor Snape?" she asked him after casting an inconspicuous muffliato.

Harry grimaced at the bitter taste of his drink and added another sugar. "I checked in with Nuala before coming over. She said he was still holed up in his lab. She said he's determined to find out why Ron's not improving." He took another sip and then banished his cup as a lost cause. "Ready?" Hermione nodded, banishing her overly dry, half-eaten muffin and picking up her own cup of coffee to finish later.

As the two of them walked through the hospital's atrium on the way to Ron's room, an unfamiliar voice stopped them. "Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!"

Harry, accustomed to people seeking him out, looked around. His annoyance faded when he saw the portrait trying to get his attention. "Headmistress Derwent!" He looked around to make sure no one was watching and went closer to the frame. "Have you found anything that might help Ron?"

"Aye. Can you meet me at Hogwarts? One of the healers found something that could be very helpful." No longer needing the caffeine, Hermione disposed of her cup and they made their way to the floo.

ATDATDATD

McGonagall let them through immediately. "Dilys told me she was going to catch you this morning. The healers seem very excited." She led them to the chairs in front of her desk and sat down herself.

In the portrait on the wall behind the headmistress, Derwent had already joined Dumbledore and the six healers. One of the stout healers stood in front of the group, fingering his gray beard with one hand while holding a painted book in the other. "When you mentioned a maighnead draíochta, I knew I'd read of that somewhere," he began with a Northumberland accent. "But it took me awhile to find the reference. I had to visit almost every portrait with books in the castle to find what I was looking for. Why, on the fourth floor…"

"Yes, yes, yes, Healer Wakemeadow," interrupted the healer with a dark goatee. "We've heard the story. Get to the point and let them know what you've found."

Wakemeadow frowned at his compatriot. "See here, Rumpherd, I'm providing the necessary background to…"

Harry cleared his throat. "We appreciate your research, Healer Wakemeadow. Ron's stable now, but Professor Snape…"

"Headmaster Snape," interrupted Phineas Black from his portrait. "A person keeps the title even after retirement."

"Headmaster Snape," Harry continued, "is searching for a modification to his formula which will result in a complete recovery."

"Precisely!" exclaimed Wakemeadow. "Now, I've found that what he needs is something from each of the six directions: up, down, north, south, east and west."

Discouraged, Harry and Hermione, who had unconsciously been leaning forward, collapsed against the backs of their chairs. "Professor – Headmaster Snape, I mean," Hermione glanced at Black, "used just that in the potion he created."

"Humph. Well, what did he gather from the heavens?" Wakemeadow asked, disappointed that they already knew about his discovery.

"A meteorite fragment. And from the earth, a freshly cooled lava rock," answered Harry.

"North and south?"

"A talisman and dung as processed by Egyptian scarabs."

"Occident and orient?"

"Magic seaweed and dragon eggshell fragments."

Wakemeadow leaned back in his chair. "Headmaster Snape seems to have thought of everything. I'm confused, then, as to why the potion didn't cure young Mr. Weasley. Perhaps the proportion of the various ingredients is off?"

"I could bring in his arithmancy calculations," Hermione offered.

Albus drummed his fingers on the arm of his painted chair. "We can try that, but arithmancy has made great strides in the past several centuries and Severus knows his business too well to make such errors. He would have triple checked everything before he began."

For a minute there was silence in the room as people and portraits gazed around in disappointment.

Hermione held back a tear thinking about the past week. "At least Ron's stable. Professor Snape warned us there was only a two-thirds chance of success, but I'd hoped…." Headmaster Black looked like he was about to correct her, but stayed silent when McGonagall glared at him.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Everything was going too well. Merlin, I even found a clan of oceanic merpeople in the middle of the Atlantic – figure the odds! And Ginny didn't have to settle for the Armortail shell fragments – she was able to find actual Xian Raptor fragments! And Hermione was …"

He was interrupted by Wakemeadow. "Xian Raptor? I'm very familiar with Persian fauna and I know of no such dragon."

Hermione opened her eyes. "Persian? The Xian Raptor is Chinese."

Wakemeadow looked confused. "You said you had retrieved dragon egg shell fragments from the Orient."

Hermione sat up. "Orient…" she repeated to herself. She began to laugh almost hysterically. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that? In the old days, the Orient was centered around the kingdom of Persia and the knowledge of anything beyond where Iran is would have been so vague as to almost be a myth."

Harry looked at her. "So does that mean we need something from Iran?"

"Maybe." She got up with a renewed sense of determination and went to the floo. "Professor Snape?"

"Headmaster!" hissed Black.

After a moment, Snape's head appeared. "Yes?" he asked irately. Harry was glad it was Hermione calling the potions master. Even through the flames he could see how exhausted Snape looked. The professor would be less inclined to snap at Hermione than himself, he hoped.

"Professor, Healer Wakemeadow has thought of something that might be very important concerning the potion for Ron. Can you bring your arithmancy calculations and come through?"

Grumbling, Snape withdrew his head, but stepped through a minute later with a pile of parchments in his hand. He was not pleased to see McGonagall was to be included in the discussion about the potion since it meant yet another person was aware of his role, but she smiled at him. "Severus! As always, I'm delighted to see you! Hermione and Harry have told me what you're doing for Ron. Oh, don't grumble so. I know you don't like others to know the best of you."

"I know you can keep a secret," Snape allowed, mollified by her words, as he summoned a chair and small table on which to spread his work.

"You know I'll deny I saw you today," McGonagall said seriously. "Everyone in this room knows MLE made a foolish policy when they forbade contact with you, much less in in this matter."

Snape nodded in acknowledgement and seemed appeased. He looked up at the crowded portrait behind the headmistress's desk. "It's good to see all of you again. Healer Wakemeadow, Mrs. Granger-Weasley said you discovered something of significance regarding the potion for Mr. Weasley."

Wakemeadow puffed out his chest in importance. "The lass here was describing the ingredients and mentioned dragon eggshell fragments. Knowing the Orient has a number of types of dragons, I of course agreed you were on the right track. But then she mentioned a Xian Raptor, I believe."

Snape cocked his head. "Yes, that would have been the most powerful dragon at the time."

Wakemeadow adamantly shook his head. "In my vast studies I have not come across any such dragon in the Orient."

Hermione almost jumped out her chair and broke into the conversation. "Don't you see, Professor? Perhaps the formula doesn't require something from China, but something from the old Orient, what was then Persia!"

Snape froze, thinking rapidly. "Perhaps…"

Harry stood up. "If you give me a new portkey and tell me what breed, I'll head that way right now."

Snape held out a hand. "That may not be necessary. Sit down, Potter." He summoned a quill from McGonagall's desk and began writing furiously. The others barely dared to move in fear of disturbing his concentration. Finally he looked up.

"Of course! I should have known. Mr. Potter, you will not need to catch a portkey. I believe I can obtain what I need here in Britain."

McGonagall looked confused. "You can purchase the eggs of Persian dragons in Diagon Alley?"

Snape shook his head. "Not there, but in Knockturn Alley, though not easily. However, that's not important. I focused on dragon eggshells because they represented the most powerful magic ingredient from China. Since we are now looking for something from Persia, the magical component is different. It still won't be easy to obtain since what I seek has been banned by the Ministry of Magic, but many of the old families have at least one in their vault."

Hermione tilted her head. "Is it a jewel of some sort?"

Again, Snape shook his head. "The potion requires an additional ingredient representing life. Specifically, the animal kingdom. Fortunately, I don't need the animal itself. Just as with the dung beetle, I can use its product instead – its fur or the protein fiber it produces."

"Fiber … do you need an old dress robe?" asked Hermione.

Snape snorted. "I believe it would be a more powerful ingredient if it had been woven into an intrinsically magical item."

Harry, who happened to be looking at the floor, exclaimed, "A flying carpet!"

Snape smiled in agreement. "Precisely - the most magical item from ancient Persia. Fortunately, the ban on such carpets here in Britain is relatively recent, and they are still legal in other countries. Finding one shouldn't be difficult. It will be harder to convince the owner to let me cut off what I need for the potion, as that will ruin its flying ability and intrinsic value."

"I'll check the Potter vault. There may be one in there and I don't mind if you have to cut a big sodding hole right through the center."

McGonagall smiled. "You don't have to do that, Harry. Hogwarts has several and I don't mind donating one to the cause." She called out, "Miffy!"

A small house-elf appeared. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Bring me the magic carpets in storage."

Miffy's eyes became round. "All of them?" she squeaked.

"Yes, please," replied the Headmistress. Miffy disappeared with a pop, returning a few seconds later, hunched over and carrying a tall bundle of carpets precariously balanced on her head.

Snape drew his wand and levitated them from the house-elf onto the floor. He began to go through them, quickly appraising their quality by sight and feel. The others gathered around. "How beautiful!" Hermione exclaimed as one with an elaborate flower motif appeared.

Snape nodded distractedly. "Yes, a possibility." He directed that one off to one side and kept going through the pile. He had almost reached the bottom when he stopped. The others gasped. The carpet that had caught their attention was smaller than most of the others. The borders were an intricate pattern of red and blue. In the middle, a shiny green and yellow dragon with red eyes shimmered. Snape rubbed his hand over the rug; when he reached the dragon it arched in response. "Perfect! This carpet is primarily wool, but the dragon is woven out of silk. Just as silk protects the chrysalis as the caterpillar undergoes metamorphosis into a butterfly, in the potion it will protect Mr. Weasley's magical core as it rebuilds." He reverently put it to the side. The remainder of the stack was quickly discarded.

"Miffy, you may put all but this one back in storage," the Headmistress directed. When the house-elf had once again disappeared with her top-heavy load, the others stood around the dragon carpet. "It's a shame that it's had to have been hidden since the ban," she said.

"Can you imagine quidditch on rugs rather than brooms?" asked Harry to no one in particular.

Snape walked over to the parchments that still littered the table next to his chair. "I should only need fourteen grams of material," he said to McGonagall after reviewing his calculations. "With your permission?"

The Headmistress nodded. "Aye." She summoned over a balance scale and weights.

After carefully looking once more at the pattern, Snape used his wand to flip the carpet over. The others watched as he carefully snipped threads from a variety of places, placing them one by one on the scale. Occasionally he'd flip the rug over to see what the cuts looked like on the top. When he had enough, he flipped the rug over again for the final time. With smoke steaming from its nostrils, the dragon glared angrily at him with fiery eyes, but the others had to look hard to see where the cuts had been made. "It won't fly properly," Snape said to the room at large, "but it hasn't completely lost the ability to do so, and perhaps in the future a restorer can mend it. If you'll excuse me…" He took out a vial from a pocket, carefully transferred the threads into it, and gathered up his parchments.

Apprehensively, Hermione spoke up with dread in her voice. "I assume I'll need to find another Mjolnir, but do you have enough of everything else?" She mentally began to envision the daunting task of searching countless Scandinavian muggle pawn shops, antique boutiques and used jewelry stores in the slim hopes of finding another previously unidentified magical Thor's Hammer. The odds of success were stacked against her…

Snape smirked. "A good potions master always prepares for contingencies. I made enough in case modifications were needed. I'll be able to incorporate the threads into what I have left."

Hermione breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. "How long will it take you to modify the potion?"

Snape looked back as he was about to step through the floo. "I'll start as soon as I get back. Meet me with your daughter at the usual place at seven tomorrow morning." With a rush of flames, he disappeared.

ATDATDATD

Sunday morning, Hermione and a bleary-eyed Rose once again met Snape in the office building stairwell. "Hugo's still asleep," Hermione informed the potions master. "I slipped him a sleeping potion last night so he'll be out until lunchtime. He needs the sleep anyway, and this way Rose won't have to worry about him finding out about her role."

Snape nodded in approval. After the transformation, Rose returned home and Snape and Hermione apparated to St. Mungo's. With Ron's stabilization, the waiting alcove was much less crowded than it had been the week prior. Although more would come later in the day, at this time only Molly, Arthur, Charlie, Ginny, and Harry were seated on various sofas and chairs. Pots of coffee and tea hovered in the corners.

Ginny and Harry rose to greet the newcomers. "Is everything ready?" asked Ginny as she hugged Hermione. Snape-as-Rose mentally rolled his eyes when Ginny did not hug him. He took the initiative. "I need you to distract your parents and brother when I go in," he whispered to the three of them.

Molly approached the group before they could respond. "Hugo's not coming in this morning?"

"He's exhausted. I wanted to let him catch up on his sleep, especially since the kids will be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow before class," Hermione explained. "I'll bring him here after lunch."

"Grandmum, I can't breathe," choked out Snape-as-Rose, enveloped in Molly's embrace.

"Of course, dear," responded Molly distractedly. "The healer was just here. He said now's a good time if you want to say hello to your father. Give him a special hug from me and Granddad, won't you dear?"

"Yes, Grandmum," responded Snape-as-Rose, taking a deep breath.

When Snape-as-Rose entered Ron's room, Harry went to Arthur and Ginny approached Charlie while Hermione stayed with Molly. Snape-as-Rose glanced at the window and saw no one was watching him. He quickly forced the revised potion down Ron's throat, then sat down next to him. Feeling odd, he leaned over and gave Ron a hug. "That's from your mother and father," he muttered. "The things I do in the name of healing."

He later realized that it was only because he was so close to Ron that he felt a small rise in the auror's magical core.

ATDATDATD

A week later, Hermione returned to Snape's house. Nuala met her at the door with Fianna in her arms. She smiled at Hermione. "Is your man home yet?"

Hermione smiled too. "Yesterday. Is the Professor in?"

"Aye. He told me to tell you to wait in the kitchen."

Stephen and Patrick ran into the kitchen and grabbed a cookie. As they were racing back out, Snape appeared. "No running in the house!"

"Yes, Da!" came down the hall in response.

Snape shook his head and picked up Fianna from Nuala's arms. "You won't be so obstreperous, will you, my witch?"

Hermione gave a small laugh. "I wouldn't count on it, Professor. Girls can be just as bad."

Snape let out a theatrical groan. "Surely you were never as disrespectful."

Hermione grinned. "You've already forgotten Hogwarts?"

Snape raised his eyebrows while summoning a cup and sitting down. "I do believe you almost set the record for the fewest number of detentions."

"That's because I was smart enough to avoid being caught."

Snape snorted. "In that case, Stephen will be the one who sets a new record. He can be too smart for his own good."

Nuala unconsciously rubbed Fianna's hair. "Now, Severus, you're exaggerating. He's a good boyo."

Snape put his hand on hers. "You're right as always, Nuala." He looked over at Hermione. "Why are you here? Has your husband had a relapse?" he asked with concern.

Hermione shook her head. "He's doing much better. The healers said he'll be able to return to work next week. He's thinking about leaving the MLE, though. It was a very close call, and would have gone the other way had it not been for you."

Nuala retook Fianna from her husband. "Aye. I would not want Severus to be risking his life so."

Hermione saw a small softening in Snape's countenance. Smiling to herself, she reached into her pocket, took out a bag, and enlarged it before pulling out some items. "I want to give you and your family some gifts in appreciation for what you have done."

"You do remember you owe Fianna and me a debt, don't you?" Snape asked dryly.

"Yes, but that's for the future. I'd like to give you a little something now." She lifted up a selection of teas. "For you, Nuala, for your hospitality." Next came a glass stirring rod. "I hope will find this useful, Professor." Snape gave it a close examination and nodded.

"Harry actually suggested Stephen's gift." She opened a box. "This is a practice snitch. For Patrick," she continued, "a book, of course. This was Hugo's favorite when he was three." The book's cover showed a dragon chasing a wizard around a hill. She looked at Nuala. "For Fianna, I wanted to show my special gratitude, though she obviously has no idea what went on. I had a lot of time this week while Ron was healing in the hospital." She picked up a green quilt decorated with prancing unicorns. "It's not perfect, but I imbued it with protective charms while I was knitting it."

"You do realize the debt increased when she contributed to the potion, don't you?" asked Snape.

"Yes, and it was worth it."

Nuala picked up the quilt with her free hand and rubbed the blanket between her fingers, feeling its softness. An image of a rearing unicorn emerged in the air. Fianna squealed in laughter. Smiling, Nuala looked at her husband and at some signal invisible to Hermione began to speak. "Since you're tied to her already, would you consent to be Fianna's godmother?"

Hermione's smile brightened the room. "I'd be honored."

Snape snorted. "My daughter with a Gryffindor godmother. Mrs. Granger-Weasely, the next time you need a potion, please just ask."

Thank you for reading my story. I'd love to hear what you thought of it. Please review!