A/N: Story Please has writer's block and has requested some fluff. Thing is… I have writer's block too, so—- ARGH!

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

Thief in the Night

"It is not needful for our dreams to be very grand nor very big. It is only needful for our dreams to be very shiny."

― C. JoyBell C.

Things were disappearing around Hogwarts, and no one knew why. At first everyone blamed the twins, but then they realised the twins hadn't been around in quite some time. The teachers blamed some student pranksters, but they could never find who— somehow whoever it was had managed to remain undetected by everyone, even Mr Filch.

Teacups, forks, chandelier crystals, baubles, galleons, bracelets, and even Dumbledore's sherbet lemons were disappearing. The only one who wasn't complaining was Pomona, who swore that ever since things started disappearing, the snail problem in her greenhouse was, well, no longer a problem. Madam Pomfrey was frustrated because all of her jars of bruise balm had disappeared into the Nether without so much as a farewell or a forwarding address, and she had to have Severus brew her another batch. The Headmaster was having issues keeping his stash of sherbet lemons stocked, and all he had left were licorice snaps, which had an annoying tendency to bite him before he could eat them.

"I have no idea what is causing this, Headmaster," Minerva said as she plopped down the pile of parchments on Albus' desk. The headmaster's desk was strangely missing a lot of his normal decorative bling. His fancy quills were missing from his desk, his candy dish was empty, and—

"Where is Fawkes' perch?" Minerva asked, frowning.

"Only Merlin and the gods know, Minerva," Albus said, rubbing the space between his eyes with his fingers.

Fawkes chirped forlornly as he sat in a makeshift nest of parchments on Albus' desk.

"You do— ward your office, yes?" Minerva asked, eyes cast to the side to avoid being confrontational.

"Oh, believe me, this office has ample wards, but things still disappear."

"The portraits?"

"Nothing," Albus answered, clearly puzzled. "Frankly I'm surprised they haven't been losing things too."

"Have you considered bringing in the Aurors, Albus? Perhaps someone put a curse—"

"No, Minerva, I checked. There is no curse," Albus muttered. "Have you lost anything?"

Minerva shrugged. "A few of my special tea-tins," she said. "That I know of."

"And the students? Have they lost anything that prevents them from going to class?" Albus asked.

"No, just things that make them going to class a little more—" Minerva paused. "Challenging. Some of them are missing a few buttons, belt buckles, and fasteners, and their transfiguration skill is rather less than might be desired."

"Well, they can't all be you, Minerva," Albus pointed out.

"Have you asked Hagrid if he's had any— things in his possession that he shouldn't have?" Minerva asked. She gave Albus the eye.

Albus shook his head. "No, nothing that would steal tea tins and my lemon sherbets as well as Fawkes' perch. I can't even move that thing without magic, so—"

Minerva let out a tired sigh. "I'm going to my last class."

"I know you stole them!"

"Stole what?"

"You bloody nicked my chocolate snitches!" a red-faced Ron bellowed, getting up in Seamus' face.

"I did not!" Seamus yelled back. "I have a chocolate allergy after Neville blew up his cauldron next to me last week! Pomfrey said it'll be at least a month before it's even safe for me to drink a glass of chocolate milk!"

Ron's face turned red. "Fine, maybe it wasn't you, but someone here DID steal my chocolate!"

"Merlin, Ron, just stop yelling, mate. I'll buy you an entire case of the bloody things when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend, if you'll just stop carrying on and accusing everyone of stealing your shite." Harry rubbed his eyelids with his index fingers.

"So I can feel indebted to you?!" Ron snorted rudely.

"Aw, fuck me sideways," another Gryffindor cursed, rolling his eyes and stalking out of the common room.

"You know I'm not trying to make you feel indeb—"

"You know I can't afford to get them that often! You are deliberately trying to humiliate me!"

"Trust me, mate, you're doing that all on your own," Neville muttered as he picked up his cactus and walked up the dormitory stairs.

"We've all lost stuff, Ron, just let it go for Merlin's sake," Harry groaned, trying to finish the last of his Potions essay.

"Easy for you to say, you get to buy all the new stuff with your godfather ever since he was cleared of all charges!"

"What does that even have to DO with anything?"

"I just want what's mine," Ron snapped. "I bought them with my money. Mine. Not yours or anyone else's. They belong to me."

"You know what else belongs to you?" Harry bit out, standing up to gather his things. "Consequences." He gathered up his books and headed for the portal. "You want to keep pissing and moaning about your ruddy chocolate? Bloody fine, you go right ahead, mate. I'm going to go find Hermione and study."

"Too good for the rest of us?" Ron spat.

"Ron, this is our last year at Hogwarts," Harry said. "I want to enter the Auror training program when I leave here. We're going to be taking our N.E.W.T.s in just a month from now. Hermione has already surpassed us all by starting an apprenticeship with Professor McGonagall. Hell, she's already passed her N.E.W.T.S and has a job and she hasn't even left Hogwarts yet. We all need to think about what's going to happen when we leave here, Ron."

Ron shook his head in disgust and stormed up the steps to the boys' dorms. "Whatever, mate."

Severus was lucky to be alive. After having broken up multiple fights in the hallways over people accusing other people of stealing their stuff, grading papers, he had just barely gotten to sleep when he was awakened by the all-too-familiar accursed burning in his left forearm. Dragging himself up by sheer will, he was barely conscious enough to pull on the right set of robes and his mask for the meeting.

He arrived just in time to duck a lethal green beam of magic as one of the Death Eaters was having a highly animated "discussion" with another. Bellatrix' wild hair and even wilder wand-waving habits was focused as hatefully as she did everything she did in her life— with a strange love for pain and the discomfort of anyone around her. Pettigrew had obviously said something offensive to her, and with Bella that could range from the way she preferred her eggs to how she liked her victims tortured. Even other Death Eaters thought she was completely mental. No one liked to admit that there was a really good chance that her problems had been related to her hereditary as well as her upbringing— all that inbreeding in the Pureblood lines had made Bella one dozen short of a baker's dozen. To admit that something was actually WRONG with Bellatrix was to admit that the entire argument for strict Pureblood breeding was wrong. Arguably, Severus was pretty sure the entire Black family had more than just a few screws loose— some of them were entirely sodding missing.

Was it really any wonder that some of the most powerful if not the most powerful magic-wielders were of mixed or even entirely Muggle blood?

"Bella," the Dark Lord's voice was like black ice— as dangerous as it was invisible and smooth. "I still require Wormtail's dutiful work. You will immediately desist your testing his dodging abilities."

"Yes, my Loooord," she purred, elongating her grovel, never realising just how bad it sounded. It was no secret that Bellatrix preferred the Dark Lord's side to anyone else's, including that of her own husband, Rodolphus. Rumour had it that Rodolphus pretended that every victim was actually Bellatrix— so great was his fury that his wife never gave him a moment's notice, much less a child to carry on the family line.

Her focus distracted from Wormtail, Bellatrix then decided to sneer at Severus, and she rubbed her wand with a lover's caress, running her tongue along the tip in a perverse lick as she sauntered over to him. "Severus," she hissed. "Shouldn't you be babysitting all the filthy little Mudbloods and your fellow half-bloods?"

"I was summoned here just as you were," Severus answered, his black eyes narrowing in distaste.

"Oh, I rather doubt that," Bellatrix said in a gratingly childish, sing-song voice. "We have such important business to attend to tonight."

"Which is why he is here, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said coldly, moving into the next room. "Do not make me set my gaze upon you again over this infantile grudge you continue to harbour."

Bellatrix groveled, casting her eyes down and gliding by his side like a dog at its master's side. Snape curled his lip. An almost-rabid dog at that.

"We shall start without the usual formalities," Voldemort said, his oddly reptilian face crinkling in distaste. "There are certain matters which need to be taken care of as soon as possible." He gestured with his hand, and a sheet white Draco Malfoy was shoved bodily into the room. The young wizard's mouth was spelled together, with his tongue firmly affixed to the roof of his mouth.

"We will begin with the family of failure," Voldemort sneered.

A very pale Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy sat stiffly in their seats, either unable or unwilling to protest.

"The boy wished to prove himself a man when you could not, Lucius. How sad for you that your own failures fall to your inept son to fix for you," Voldemort said. "Of course, being the… fair sort of man that I am, I gave young Draco the opportunity to rectify his father's ignominious failure to obtain the prophecy with a very simple task."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed as he stared at Draco, running a clawed finger under his chin. "A task which he has failed not merely once, but multiple times."

"Severus, did you know that Lucius' lady wife wanted to run to you and persuade you to swear, under oath, to protect her son?" Voldemort asked. "Against my specific orders."

Narcissa's eyes went very wide as Bellatrix' head snapped up, a predatory look of sadistic glee on her almost-skeletally thin face.

"No, my lord," Snape said calmly, his face set like stone.

"Crucio!" the Dark Lord yelled, and Severus went flying out of his chair, his body convulsing wildly as every muscle spasmed against his will in complete and utter agony. Voldemort took Severus' chin between his clawed fingers and stared deep into Severus' eyes. His eyes narrowed after a bit. "I believe you, Severus," he said in a nasally hiss, walking coolly past his body as if Severus was just reclining there for his comfort.

Bellatrix slumped in her chair, seemingly sad that she wouldn't get to torture Snape over her sister, but the witch was not giving up. She seemed just as eager to catch her sister (or anyone else for that matter) at something "bad".

"Anyway, seeing as I cannot seem to get success out of the entire Malfoy family, I fear it is time to show you, Lucius, what happens when you fail. I believe I've been more than generous with you for— old time's sake. I even gave your son the Mark because he so firmly swore his loyalty to our great cause. However, I see that such sentiment truly means nothing to you and yours."

"Please, my Lord!" Lucius blurted. "Let me—"

A piercing glare from Voldemort caused Lucius to swallow his words. "Your time is over, Lucius," he said coldly. "I warned you what would happen if you should fail me."

Voldemort put his hand into his sleeve and paused, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He spun, holding out his hand imperiously towards Bellatrix. "Wand."

Bellatrix just stared uncomprehendingly.

"Give. Me. Your. Wand. NOW!"

Bellatrix grovelled, patting her sleeve frantically for her wand. Then her eyes went wide in total panic.

Voldemort snarled and went to Dolohov. "Wand."

Dolohov, reached up his sleeve and paled. He patted his sleeve and looked around, an expression of panic writ boldly across his face. Meanwhile, Bellatrix was shrieking shrilly at Rodolphus, and Rabastan was vainly attempting to intervene, but all of them were trying to wield wands that had somehow disappeared into thin air.

Death Eaters everywhere patted themselves down for their wands, and angry yelling broke into physical blows being thrown. Nagini leapt directly towards Wormtail's face, and chaos descended. Death Eaters went after each other, all of them trying their best to destroy each other. But when a stray tray smashed into the enraged Dark Lord's head, the room suddenly vibrated with gathered power, and everything went straight to Hades by express train.

Hours later, Snape released the shielding ward and Disillusionment from around Draco as he opened the ancient hardwood cabinet he had stuffed him into. Draco fell flat on his face on the hard marble floor in one of the exceedingly few places not covered with a body.

Nagini's corpse had been stabbed in multiple places with everything from swords and halberds to broken chair legs, her eyes gouged out by someone or something. There were four or five lumps in her body— the half-consumed Wormtail's face stared glassily out from the enormous snake's disjointed mouth. Death Eaters lay dead, all of them impaled or otherwise beaten to death. Judging by the vicious claw and bite marks, Greyback had been involved as well, despite his not being on the "Marked invite" list. It was, perhaps, good that they, too, were dead, as a newly-converted band of Death Eater werewolves was not a pretty picture.

Snape held his side, chest heaving, his fingers touching the burnt patch in his robes. There was no sign of—

Severus' eyes widened. The Dark Lord was pinned under the coils of Nagini, his red eyes glowering into the room, his face a twisted rictus of pure hatred.

"What. The—" Snape swallowed hard.

A black, acrid— something— was floating up from the joined corpses. It swirled like a living thing. It gathered around the center of the room like an angry tornado as the stench of rot filled the room. Then, ice filled in the spaces, causing Snape and Draco's breath to freeze. The mass of swirling blackness seemed to scream endlessly as it formed into a figure as inhuman as it was undeniably— a Dementor.

Snape pulled a shocked speechless Draco to his feet. "Move, boy!" He grasped Draco by the wrist and pulled him with him.

The "new" Dementor hissed and growled, floating toward them, its gnarled hands twisting and reaching towards them both. Severus dragged Draco behind him, yanking him by the arm when he fell but not stopping for anything. Draco started to hurl as he saw even more bodies sprawled in heaps throughout the main foyer, and even then, Snape did not stop.

Nor did the Dementor.

Draco broke free of him, bursting ahead to cradle his mother's body, which lay like a broken doll over his father's. He wept over her, clutching her tightly to his chest.

Snape cursed, trying to pull Draco up, but he numbly refused to listen. The air was frozen again— the chilling cold of unnatural spite and hatred seeking their every morsel of hope and joy, perhaps their very souls.

Snape dove deep into his Occlumency, but Draco's was a painfully raw and vulnerable mind. All of his talent in the mind arts had escaped with the sight of his deceased parents.

When Narcissa's body spasmed and she sat up, coughing harshly, Draco became even more useless, falling into her with a joyous cry even as the Dementor grasped their chins with its icy, gnarled fingers. Its mouth opened to suck out their very essence.

"Expecto Patronum!" Severus barked, and a blazing, blinding blue-white doe burst forth from his wand and slammed into the eagerly feeding Dementor.

It screamed, clutching at its hooded "head" with its skeletal hands. The light became unbearable, and even Severus put his arm over his eyes to block the brilliance.

"SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"

The sound of air escaping marked the Dementor's abrupt departure as it hurriedly escaped out the floo. The very stones of Malfoy Manor were crumbling. Stone and plaster were coming down from the ceiling.

Severus yanked Draco to his feet, pulling Narcissa up and hauling them both out the door. "Out! Before the entire manor falls on our heads!"

Just as he managed to get out of the house, Severus felt the manor's powerful anti-Apparition jinx lose its hold. He jerked Draco and Narcissa to himself with a hiss.

CRACK!

They were gone.

Gringotts Reports Odd Haunting Activity

The goblins have reported some odd activity in the vault of the Lestrange family. Sometime during the night, all the gold liquified and many priceless heirlooms and other items inexplicably burnt themselves into char. As the goblins did inventory and the Aurors checked over the scene, they found the long lost Cup of Helga Hufflepuff. The cup seems to have been abused since its being lost, as a solitary crack in the rim and a strange sticky, black residue was encrusted on it.

All attempts to contact the Lestranges have been unsuccessful.

The goblins are in the process of checking other vaults for what might have caused the destroyed vault, but preliminary traces by the Aurors seems to suggest that whatever caused the cup to crack loosed something violent and destructive in the Lestrange vault.

Damages claimed by the goblins will be taken out of the melted gold from the Lestrange vault once the DMLE's investigation has concluded. The storage of potentially destructive artefacts and stolen merchandise is specifically against the vault rules.

Severus, after handing Draco and Narcissa off to Albus to make the headmaster useful for a change, gave his debriefing to a half-squad of Aurors, a gobsmacked Alastor Moody, and a decidedly smug-looking Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"So let me get this straight," Moody muttered. "The Dark Lord tried to murder Draco in front of his parents, couldn't find his wand, and all the Death Eaters ended up brawling with each other and stabbing each other with swords and chair legs?"

"Don't forget the beating the everliving shite out of each other," Kingsley said, his lips twitching with amusement.

"And the bodies— coagulated into a Dementor?"

Snape nodded grimly.

"And we should believe you why?" Moody growled.

"Alastor," Kingsley warned.

"No, I want to know why we should trust a sodding Death Eater!" Alastor barked.

"Feel free to go to Malfoy Manor, or what is left of it, and check the debris yourself," Snape said, his brows furrowing.

"For all we know you killed them all to make yourself the next Dark L—"

"Alastor, that is enough!" Kingsley growled.

"You can't know that he isn't—"

"I do know," Kingsley snapped.

"What?"

Kingsley threw up his hands. "Severus has been giving me weekly reports ever since Albus first swore him under oath to do whatever he required in return for Lily Potter's safety, in case he was made to do anything he did not want to do but had to under compulsion of an Unbreakable Vow."

"Dumbledore wouldn't—"

"I assure you, Albus does whatever he chooses," Severus said.

"I don't believe it," Moody growled. "Show me the vow."

"I have the pertinent memories, Alastor," Kingsley said, "but you won't get the trace on him."

"Why the hell not?"

"The conditions have been met. The Dark Lord Voldemort has met his end." Kingsley rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Why would you protect him?" Moody accused Kingsley.

"Because when someone came to take me out, it was Severus who risked his life to save mine," Kingsley replied, his face darkening. Kingsley's scowl shifted to a look of amusement as he watched a tiny pair of paws stealthily nick Moody's notebook and his wand.

"WHAT?" Moody growled, paranoid that Kingsley was pulling the wool over his eyes for some reason.

Shacklebolt rubbed his nose. "Nothing, just thinking about the odd string of thefts going on around Hogwarts." He pulled something out of his pocket and let his hand drop to the floor as he listened to Moody rant about Dark Wizards and trust and Albus Dumbledore. He stifled another smile as he felt the soft play of paws on his hand as the shiny foiled chocolate disappeared.

He kept his eyes on Moody, nodding and grunting here and there, even as his hand fished another chocolate out of his pocket. Again and again, the soft brush of paws visited his hand until finally, something smooth and long touched his fingers. The paws patted his fingers and disappeared. Kingsley's eyes focused on the newly-acquired wand in his palm.

"And where the sodding hell is my wand?!" Alastor yelled.

Kingsley watched the Niffler move under Severus' robes and disappear from view. "I think you just personally experienced the reason why twenty-some Death Eaters got into a vicious brawl and killed each other, Moody," Kings said with lick of his teeth and a clucking sound.

"Severus, go get some sleep and a shower in whatever order you prefer," Shacklebolt said. "I'll file the debriefing and release your back pay for all the work that you did."

Severus nodded briefly. "Thank you, Kingsley."

Kingsley smiled. "Oh, I think your Slytherin self can tuck yourself in with the well-earned comfort that you have been freed of two masters and have over a decade's worth of back pay waiting for you."

Severus stood. "I have no idea what you mean, Minister," he replied.

"Mmhmm," Kingsley said, waving him off as Moody tried to tear Albus' office apart looking for his wand. His eyes flicked up to a pile of scrolls that Fawkes had been desperately trying to make into a comfy nest. His eyebrows went up into his hat. "Skeeter isn't going to be happy when she realises the saviour of the Wizarding War is a furry kleptomaniac."

"What?" Moody asked.

"Nothing, Alastor, please keep on ranting."

Moody grunted and did just that.

Albus came in the floo and brushed himself off. He nodded to Kingsley and Alastor and headed off to bed. "Carry on," he said, waving at them both. "I'm going to bed."

Five minutes later, he came back out. "Has anyone seen my phoenix?"

Severus barely had the strength to shrug off his robes and drag himself into the shower. He almost fell asleep with the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, and then half-collapsed against the side of the shower trying to wash his hair. The steam from the shower loosened his muscles, and he checked himself for gaping holes he might have missed after the night's shenanigans. Dragging himself out of the shower, he toweled off and pulled on a robe, his bare feet tracking damply across the floor of his chambers.

He reached down to pick his robes off the ground and at least throw them over the chair when a pile of goblets, coins, forks, butter knives, gems, tins, foil-wrapped candies, and what looked like a goblin-silver abacus tumbled out of the folds. A large crystal decanter with dragons carved into it plunked out of his robes along with a gold filigree bookmark, some half-dozen fancy quills, a silver snake head with emerald eyes, a set of bejeweled potions vials, gold and silver makeup compacts, ornately crystalline chess pieces, marble coasters, a collection of fancy hair barrettes, buttons of every shape and size and the Dark Lord's distinctive holly wand rained down from his robes.

Severus blinked. He shook out his robes again.

A cascade of assorted wands clattered down into a pile at his feet.

He shook his robes again.

Scrrrrriiiitchhhhhh— thud.

A blue-black Niffler with bright whisky-brown eyes stared up at him, seemingly in total astonishment. Its nose wiggled as it scratched its bill with a foot. It reached out its paws to him.

Severus, throwing all possible restraint into the wind after his long day, picked it up. It wriggled warmly in his hands and snuggled into his chest.

Plunk.

A goblet rolled across the floor, followed by about ten shiny gobstones.

Severus eyed the Niffler.

The Niffler eyed him back, making a soft purring coo.

A happy string of notes caused his heart to flutter, and Severus turned to see Fawkes perched on his bedpost.

"What are you doing here, bird?"

"Chirr?"

Stepping over a hundred-plus random shiny objects, Severus slipped into the bed and let his head rest on the pillow as his hands petted the Niffler's soft, shiny black fur.

"I'll deal with the looting in the morning," Severus grunted, his arms cuddling the comfy Niffler against his body. It snuggled into his neck and cooed. If there was anything Severus had planned on doing before bed, it was lost as his eyes drifted shut and he was pulled into a deep and well-deserved sleep.

Fawkes hopped down onto the bed, wedged his head under the duvet, and crawled under so that only his tail was sticking out.

Hermione woke to a feeling of warmth and comfort. There was a scent of loamy earth and summer with a hint of warm spice. She felt a trickle of cold on her face and realised she had been drooling as she slept, but as she reached up to wipe her face, she dislodged a phoenix that had been happily absorbing her drool as a pillow.

Buh?

Fawkes preened her hair and gave up a happy thrumming warble.

Startled, but oddly comfortable, Hermione lay her head on the pillow, and Fawkes readjusted to snuggle into her, moving under her arm for an appropriate cuddling position. Hermione tentatively wrapped her arm around the warm phoenix, worried that she might hurt the giant bird somehow, but he warbled happily, radiating a soothing string of notes.

Hermione's eyes closed. Just a little longer. For a few more moments, she wanted to feel this peace that eased her aching loneliness. She felt safe, protected in this cocoon of warmth.

Fawkes found himself flying out of the bed, but not by his own wings.

Hermione's shriek and Severus' yell of mortification as they realised they were in bed with each other combined with the crash of a hundred or more objects that littered the top and under the covers of the bed.

Fawkes clung to the top of the chair by the fire, eyes whirling and tail poofed out in surprise. What was their problem? They had been so well behaved all night!

"Ms Granger! What the bloody hell are you doing in my quarters?!"

"P—rofessor Snape!" Hermione dove for the first cover she could find, snatching up the black fabric nearby and using it to cover herself in her nightgown. "I— I don't know! I went to sleep in my room, I swear!"

"Unhand my robes at once!" Severus yelled, towering over her in all his glory— his bathrobe undone and exposing himself to her.

Hermione's face flushed perfectly crimson as her eyes traced his perfectly chiseled, scarred chest and manhood that clearly marked him as quite well endowed member of the species. She dropped the robes at his command, but then Severus' face flushed crimson. He looked down at himself and almost-screeched, tying the robe around himself in a hurried jerk.

"No, no, put that back on," Severus groaned, covering his face with his hand. He tripped over a pile of objects as he cast a hurried spell, and another set of robes flew out of the nearby armoire and fell over him. He hurriedly buttoned every button by hand. "Ms Granger, what the f— What are you doing in my chambers?"

"I don't know!" Hermione cried, pulling the cast off robe around her, trying to cover up her entire body in many, many layers of black fabric.

Severus waved his wand. His face turned into a scowl. "The wards are undisturbed. I repeat. How did you get into my private rooms!"

Hermione's voice cracked as she yelled, "I don't know! I went to bed in my OWN bed and woke up here!"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He took in a deep breath, seemingly counting to ten. He distracted himself by trying to tidy up his floor, sending countless random objects into piles by the side of the room instead of the middle of it.

Hermione's eyes took in the random collection of objects with a curiosity that outweighed her earlier mortification. "You have a lot of… objects."

"They are not mine," Snape said with a scowl. He jerked the duvet up and revealed even more objects. He slapped his forehead with his palm. "I had a Niffler."

"You have a Niffler?"

"It was not mine either!" Snape snapped, and then winced. He sighed. "Forgive me— Hermione, I— this is not how I wished you to see my chambers for the first time or any time."

The tension in the air lessened as Snape summoned a tea service from the hearth. "Tea?" he said in an almost-whisper, his voice softening.

Hermione stood awkwardly, moving towards the chair to sit down, but it was completely covered in shiny trinkets. She attempted to move them, but there was a cascade of items. "I'm so sorry!" she said, frantically trying to bring order from chaos.

"Those are not mine," Severus said, gesturing with his wand to make the objects pile somewhere else. "Please, Hermione— don't worry about it."

Hermione turned, looking quite distressed. Her hair began to rise up and move on its own.

"Hermione."

She jerked her head up, radiating pure distress. "I don't know how I got here. I really don't. I try to remember, but I don't!"

Severus reached to comfort her, but his hand stopped. His face twisted in pain. "I believe you. I'm sorry I accused— I was not expecting— I was not prepared. I pride myself on having very strong and thorough wards. You know this. That is why you asked for me to teach you them."

Hermione seemed to take a calming breath. "I know. I know; it's just— I would never, not without your permission."

Severus handed her a perfectly brewed cup of tea and sat down heavily. "I know. I've worked with you and Minerva for the last year, ever since she first took you on, and I know you are not one to shirk responsibility or deny it, even when you know you've done something out of line. You've always been far ahead of your time, Hermione. It is not just me who knows such things. Your little projects are actually huge projects to other. You have no peers. You have even taken my weekends for Hogsmeade for no other reason than pity, perhaps, knowing how much I utterly loathe that particular task."

Severus sipped the last of his tea and placed his cup back on the saucer, silent.

"I know you have a lot on your plate, Professor," Hermione said. She stared into the leaves at the bottom of the cup. "I know you've had a lot of— difficult things you've had to do. Things no one person should ever have to do."

"I watched you. Dragging yourself into the castle under the cover of night, limping in, barely able to stand. I couldn't bare that no one else seemed to be able to help you. You never liked people helping you."

Severus' dark eyes lightened. "You left the potions by my door— this past year. Every time I was summoned. How did you know? How could you?"

Hermione sighed. "Dumbledore sent Fawkes to me every time you went out. Fawkes would give me a tear for each potion. I was usually done brewing by the time you came back, time enough to see you drag yourself in—"

Snape stood, every line of his body trembling in fury. "Albus put you up this?! How long?"

"He didn't for—"

"How long, Ms Granger?!"

"Since the year you showed you Mark to Minister Fudge," Hermione said.

"He's been forcing you to tend after me since THEN?!" Severus seethed, his teeth clenching together. "Brewing where? In my labs without my permission?"

"I had my ow—"

"I'm sure Slughorn just bent over backwards teaching you his terribly lazy brewing techniques!"

"He was very kind and patient with me!"

"So it was Slughorn!"

"Does it really matter who let me into a lab until I had my own?" Hermione sputtered.

"He—" Severus glowered at her. "He gave you your own lab?"

"I'm apprenticed to Minerva. I was asked if I requested anything special—"

"Something wrong with the labs I already had?"

"No— I just knew if I tried to use one of your—"

"So you just assumed I would refuse you?"

"I KNEW you would refuse me!" Hermione blurted out in her own defence. "I knew you wouldn't approve of any reason for me to use your labs for any special project and if I did, you would trace any missing ingredients and know exactly where your potions had come from!"

"So you set out to deceive me!"

"I set out to HELP you!"

"By Albus' command! Did he make you swear a vow of secrecy too? Did you swear you to his service? Promise to help you if only you would run his errands, save his other servant?"

"I chose to—"

"You really think any of this was actually your choice? I'm sure Albus told you a superb sob story about his pathetic little Death Eater spy who couldn't tend two cauldrons together without your help. He probably didn't even have to flex a finger, did he? He just pressed all the right buttons, dropped hints of bravery and helping your fellow human being, knowing some hapless, self-sacrificing Gryffindor would jump right on it!"

"Is it truly so hard for someone like you to believe that someone, anyone would actually give a DAMN about you, Severus Snape?!" Hermione cried, her face twisted in pain and fury combined. "For Merlin's sake, Severus, you can barely stand. You miss your first classes, yet everyone, while trying to care for your feelings, choose to not tell you that stupid little Gryffindor chit covered your classes so you didn't have to worry about coming back and teaching them twice. I could've said no. I chose not to. Yes, Dumbledore did ask for my help, but he did not make demands or entice me in any way, shape, or form. Do you think Fawkes does anything he doesn't truly want to do? I believe that everyone deserves a chance to prove they are more than what they appear to be. Do you think all I am is the measure of my teeth? My blood?"

Hermione wiped away a tear. "Do you think my blood is full of mud just like all those Pureblood bigots do? That it makes me inept and unworthy? You told me once you saw no difference, and I still believed there was more to you than what everyone else said. I believed in you, even when you obviously didn't give a shite about me."

"I never asked for your compassion or your pity!"

"I never asked for your permission to care," Hermione shot back, her lip trembling as she clenched her fists in impotent fury. "I didn't spend the last year reading with you in the teacher's lounge, marking papers and brewing with you, and discussing a hundred and one uses of agrimony because I had to! The only thing I didn't choose in this entire bloody mess was to love you!"

Hermione's fury and pain shot into Severus with precision of a lance and suddenly—her face paled, losing all blood as she realised what she had just let pass her lips. She let out a pained cry and—

There was a Niffler frantically running about and stuffing her pouch full of— well, everything shiny—and then it darted out of the room.

Severus stood dumbly, his jaw dropped and utterly speechless as his words left him along with whatever spiteful hate he was about to throw her way. He stumbled after the Niffler, tripping over himself, the chair, and some of the scattered and forgotten shinies she had left behind, and the misshapen metal mask of the Death Eater. He picked it up, his hand trembling as he fell to his knees, clutching the mask in his hand as his hands clawed through his hair. The lone moan of a dying beast filled in the silence.

"Minerva, there must be something you can do," Dumbledore said. "It's bad enough we're losing everything little thing that isn't nailed down, but I can't even convince the one person I never had to convince to substitute to fill in for Severus, now that's he's stuck in his Animagus form for Merlin only knows how long."

"I'm not quite sure what you expect me to do, Albus," Minerva replied. "Hermione is my apprentice, not my slave. It's one thing to ask her to do something that pertains to Transfiguration, but everything else she did was purely voluntary on her part."

Albus rubbed his temples. "Slughorn is off in Nepal on some rare ingredient hunt. No one else wants to come teach potions to children. The Animagus reversal spell doesn't even seem to work on him. I think I actually made it worse."

Minerva's eyebrow twitched. "You turned him into a giant anthropomorphic bat, Albus. I think that you don't have to even question whether it is worse. I've never seen such an alteration in an Animagus form."

Albus rubbed his temples. "People were already afraid of him before now," he groaned. "Worse, I think Severus was on to our thief, but I can't get him to stop brooding long enough to tell me anything!"

"Brooding is what he's done best since he was eleven years old, Albus," Minerva replied. "Being turned into a giant anthropomorphic monstrous bat probably didn't help your trust-based relationship very much."

"Please, Minerva, can you please try and talk him down from the rafters of his storage closet?" Albus peered through his fingers at his Deputy Headmistress with a weary expression.

Minerva stood, rolling her eyes. "You'd be one to need help with that," she muttered, spinning on her heels and exiting out the door. "I'll do it, Albus, but you owe our Severus an apology for what you put that poor man through."

Minerva trudged into the dark storage closet, closing the door behind her.

"Severus."

The huge shadow in the corner moved slightly, but Severus said nothing.

"Look, Severus, I'm not sure what happened between you two, but now I have two friends who seem to have the same problem, and I can't help but think the both of you need to sit down and have a talk.

"I don't see her hanging from the rafters by her feet," came Severus' beastly growling voice, his normal baritone voice made even deeper by his unfortunate condition.

"No, the lack of anything and everything shiny in Hogwarts seems to be of considerable concern to everyone else."

The Niffler resting in the Scotswoman's lap lay her head over McGonagall's knee and sighed.

"I've been an Animagus for longer than either of you have been alive," Minerva said slowly. "I know triggers, and I know emotional locks when I see them. I would normally just let the both of you work it out on your own schedule, but we do have students running around without a potions professor, and gods only knows what is going to blow up if they try teaching themselves for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s."

Severus unfolded his wings from his body, the massive leathery membranes stretching out like the opening of a flower. He released his grip from the rafter and thudded to the floor, his claws scraping against the stone floor with a disturbing scratching sound. "What would you have me do, Minerva?" he growled. "Looking like this?"

"Laddie, I can't tell you how to feel, but I can at least offer some friendly advice," Minerva said.

Snape's monstrous muzzle opened, exposing lines of glistening teeth.

"Do I look like the type of anything that has friends?"

Minerva stood up and stormed over to the huge bat-creature and got right up into his grill, causing him to take a step backwards, his eyes wide in surprise. "Now listen here, laddie. This is not my first time 'round, and I didna just fall 'of ta turnip truck last week. You've be my friend for over a decade and if you deny that, I'll be showin' you a different kind of Scottish hospitality. That you think you have na friends is entirely yer doing. Yer fault. Yer idiosyncrasies. Ye push away folk who even thinks tae care abit ye. You stave them awa' with yer rancor and yer bile, an' while an old witch like me can turn th' other cheek and see ye fer what ye really are under all that, don't expect someone wi' a sensitive heart and 'tay much respect for yer glaikit quibbles tae do th' same!"

Severus stared at the Scottish witch. "Minerva, I can barely understand you when you get—" He paused. "Angry with me." His beastly voice was lower and softer.

The Niffler stared between Minerva and Severus with wide, round eyes, her head-fur rising and falling like a bird's feathered crest. Her bill opened and a soft hissing laughter came out. She clamped her paws over her own bill to try and stifle it, but she continued to practically ooze soft laughter.

Minerva's furious face worked as the corner of her mouth twitched, and then she began to laugh too. She picked up the Niffler and nuzzled her nose with hers. "Look, Severus," Minerva said, recovering herself enough to crawl back up out of her lilt. "Something happened between you, or I wouldn't have have woken up to a face full of crying Niffler and a bed full of shiny objects. Now, I've taken the liberty of returning the objects to their rightful owners, but I need you two to sort out whatever the hell screwed up the last year of being totally fine with each other and preferably soon, because even the house elves don't want to bring you food because they are afraid you'll literally bite their heads off."

"I am sodding giant fruit bat, Minerva," Severus growled, "not a vampire bat!"

"Like that even matters when you're over six feet tall and have a wingspan that would make Fawkes jealous," Minerva muttered. She thrust the Niffler onto Severus' curved wings and shook her head. "Now you two do what you have to get whatever it is you couldn't say off your chest before I have to tell Trelawney that you are in here pining away for her love."

The Scottish witch left in a flurry of emerald green robes as she closed the door firmly behind her.

Severus' muzzle wrinkles relaxed, and he let out a soft sigh. "What a pair we make," he rumbled. "I couldn't help but notice your rather large stash of objects in my top cauldrons." He tapped the cauldrons on the top shelf with one wing claw, making a distinct tinging sound.

Hermione's eyes widened and she slumped a little.

"Didn't remember that, did you?"

Hermione shook her head.

"You seem to share my— particular problem," Severus said. "This is the reason I shoved my so emotions deep and locked them away as best I could. When Lily refused to forgive me, it triggered my transformation. I had been learning it to escape Potter and his band of goons. Apparently I'd made the change in my sleep before then and never realised it."

Hermione perked, her eyes brightening. She placed her tiny paws on his wing bone.

"The emotion turned me into a fruit bat and I gorged myself on half the orchard before Fawkes managed to drive me out."

Hermione giggled, a soft hissing sound escaping her bill-like muzzle.

Severus snorted. "Oh fine, laugh. At least I'm not a sleepwalking kleptomaniac."

Hermione slumped, letting out a soft sigh.

"I don't know if you've realised this, but you managed to save the entire Wizarding world," Severus said, his dark eyes meeting hers. Giant man-bat and Niffler regarded each other. "Kingsley probably knows and has already transferred all the reward money to your account. Kingsley misses— nothing. Unlike certain barmy old coots, he uses his powers for good."

Hermione squeaked.

Severus shook his head. "I am sorry, Hermione. I said things I did not mean, and much like before, I say them when I most desperately do not meant them. I lost Lily that way. The very thought of you or anyone else being manipulated by Albus as I was filled me with a blind rage. I was bound to him by Oath in exchange for Lily's safety. Only now— only now do I feel the chains that bound me to two unwanted masters finally gone, and the first thing I did was hurt you."

Hermione lay her head on his wing, her eyes looking down.

"There is more to Albus than you might think," Severus said. "He is nothing that he does that is not planned in exacting detail. He may have the face of a doddering, kindly old man, but it is not as simple as you might think. It was unkind of me to assume you knew his duplicity when his facade had fooled so many. To blame you for allowing yourself to be manipulated was unfair and even cruel."

Hermione looked up at him and huffed.

"Did you really mean what you said before you—" Severus closed his eyes. "Fled?"

Hermione made a soft crackling noise with her bill, but then she nodded sombrely.

Severus flinched and a ripple ran from head-to-toe and through his wings. "I will— confess." He scratched his chin with his wing thumb. "There were many nights during which I pondered what it would be like to wake up with you not being here anymore— you having gone off on some wild adventure or starting a grand career path. I wondered what it would be like to wake with you beside me, and then I would curse myself for being a stupid, wistful fool."

Severus stared into the Niffler's wide, round eyes. "I do not deserve even to dream such things. I could not even keep my best friend safe— OW!"

Severus growled, rubbing his wing where Hermione had bitten him.

Hermione refused to look at him, she crossed her forepaws across her furry little body and turned away from him.

Severus slumped. "And now I have offended you again. Surely you can see how—"

Hermione jerked her head up and yelled at him with a long chain of shrill chitters and squeaks.

"But—"

She ignored him and continued her squeaky tirade.

"You can't possibly think—"

More furious squeaking.

"But, I'm not—"

Hermione pulled something shiny out of her pouch and smacked Severus soundly on the muzzle with it.

Severus eyed the offending shiny object and stared. "You stole the Headmaster's wand?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she dropped the wand like it scalded her, squeaking in obvious shame.

"Why do I get the feeling that instead of sitting in front of the telly and eating a obnoxious amount of ice cream and chocolate, you turn into a Niffler and swipe Headmaster's wands?"

Hermione made a soft, squeaky groan.

Severus squared his shoulders. He picked up the wand and closed his eyes. "I will take it back to him."

Hermione's eyes widened into saucers and she tapped his wing, shaking her head violently back and forth.

"You needn't worry. He will not find out from me where it came from," Severus said. "Consider it my penance— for hurting you."

Severus curled his lips back from his teeth, his long black tongue flicking across his incisors. He opened the door the storage closet and set Hermione carefully down on a nearby ledge.

"I'm sorry," Severus said, sweeping down the hallway in a flutter of wings and fur.

Hermione squeak-thumped as she jumped down from the ledge and chased after Snape's quickly disappearing figure. She struggled up the winding staircase only to be distracted by a few shiny coins that had sadly been dropped by some poor, distracted soul, a silvery gum wrapper, part of a wind chime, a couple parchment clips, an heirloom signet ring, a brass whistle, gobstones, bezoars, crystals, broken quills, assorted buttons, bottle caps, and other random bits of detritus before she suddenly remembered where she had been heading before succumbing to the call of her Niffler instincts.

Damn it all!

Hermione scrambled up the last of the stairs, skid around the corner only to—

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! MONSTER!"

A horrendous crash sounded as countless empty sherry bottles went flying in all directions, and Hermione couldn't help but notice just how beautiful and shiny they all were—

She frantically began to stuff the sherry bottles into her pouch as Sybill Trelawney fled as quickly as her drunken legs would carry her, down the hall and out the castle doors into the cold Scottish night.

Warm, furry wings picked up the frantic, stuffing Niffler. Warm breath huffed her fur. Hermione placed her paws against his muzzle. She pulled a small, shiny golden leaf from her pouch and gently smoothed it onto the top of his muzzle.

Severus' fierce countenance softened, stress wrinkles smoothing. "Is this payment for my services?"

Hermione scowled at him, patting the leaf as one would soothe the tail of a troubled animal.

"Don't be silly, Professor Snape," Luna said as she walked by, sucking on a cherry sugar quill. "Nifflers only give shiny things to those they love." She paused a moment, reached into her bookbag and gave Hermione a shiny golden snitch. Hermione rustled around in her pouch, pulled out a flawless gryphon feather quill and offered it up to the young blonde witch. "Thanks, I seem to have lost all of mine."

Hermione hugged the shiny golden snitch to herself and stuffed it into her pouch.

Luna gave Hermione a lopsided smile and skipped down the hallway, seemingly unfazed by the giant anthropomorphic fruit bat and the Niffler. The Ravenclaw turned around after a few steps. "The best way to reply is to give them something shiny in return." She continued her meander down the hallway corridor, humming as she nibbled on her sugar quill.

Severus looked at Hermione.

Hermione tilted her head, gazing curiously into his black eyes.

Severus dropped to his knees and gently set Hermione down. He tugged around the mane of fur that surrounded his neck, pulling a silver chain out from under the fur with his taloned wing-thumb. A rich amber cabochon in a beautiful silver filigree setting hung neatly from the chain. "This— ring was my mother's and her mother's before her. She said it would only stay with the one who was truly meant for me— the next Lady Prince. Needless to say, it's been with me ever since she— well, there hasn't been anyone else I'd even think of giving it to. Until you."

The ring hung from the end of his wing-thumb, glistening in all its shiny glory.

Hermione's eyes grew very wide as all the fur on her body suddenly stood on end. Her paws tentatively reached out to pet it. She looked up at him in wonder.

"It's yours, if you will have me— if you really want— this," he said quietly, gesturing to his very furred, winged, and fruit-batty self.

Fwoooop!

Suddenly, Hermione was standing in the Niffler's place and she tackled Severus in her fierce embrace, wrapping her slender arms tightly around his lightly-furred body.

Severus shuddered, a low, choked cry of mingled pain and wonder escaping his throat. His wings wrapped tightly around the bushy-haired witch, his teeth instinctively bared in the sheer ecstasy of her touch. Severus' body trembled as he took in deep, ragged breaths, one after another. Hermione's cheek pressed into the soft fur of his chest, and her breath tickled his skin as it moved his fur. Her hands lay on the stretched membrane of his wings with a lover's tender caress— absent of the abject fear that his form had elicited from a terrified Sybill Trelawney.

She pulled away, and he winced in the agony of losing the feel of her warmth pull away, but his surprise, she removed the ring from the silver chain and placed it on her finger. There was warm rush of magic as it resized itself to her finger. She locked gazes with Severus, who looked at the ring and at Hermione with nothing short of wonder. His wings folded in against his body as his bat-shape fell away. The usually stoic potions master pressed his hands to her face, flinching as the feel of her skin against his seemed to awaken something primordial.

"Hermione," he said, the barest of whispers. "Is this what you truly want?"

"Severus," she said calmly. "I would not have put on the ring if I did not have the hope that it was always meant to be there."

Snape's fingers brushed against the ring and an arch of magic zapped his fingertips. He tilted his head, his feverish mind disbelieving what his senses were telling him.

Hermione's palms touched his pale cheeks as she drew his baffled face to her level. "Please kiss me, Severus?"

Severus brushed his thumb against her face. "Miss Granger. There could be children present."

"I am Gryffindor," Hermione said. "I'll ask for forgiveness later."

"We could end up married," Severus put in his token warning.

"I hope that doesn't mean I have to return the ring, because it's kind of attached to me," Hermione replied softly.

Severus snorted, a lock of his oily and wonderfully shiny hair falling across his eyes. "I am a coward. I am afraid you will leave like every other bright and beautiful thing in my life."

Hermione gave him a cheeky grin. "It all depends on just how well you kiss."

Severus blinked at that. "No pressure, then."

"None at all," Hermione replied, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"How much experience do you have with evaluation techniques?" Severus asked. "Is this a ten point scale?"

"Mmm, wouldn't you like to know?" Hermione teased.

Severus' eyes narrowed, a low, rumbling growl coming from the back of his throat. He pressed her up against the castle wall and behind a conveniently large and concealing pillar. His mouth descended upon hers, and hers opened to accept him. Her arms weaved under his as her hands clasped his back, a soft moan of pleasure escaping her lips. Spurred on by the sound, their tongues mated, and he passed the tip across the ridges of her mouth. Hermione's body tightened against his, and they pressed together just as closely as their layers of clothing would allow, devouring each other with the enthusiasm of pure, unfettered desire.

Warmth rose from their bodies as magic curled around them like the rub of a silken cat. Severus' low utterances accompanied his teeth fastening to her neck, and she whimpered needfully. A blaze of magical heat blew out from their combined cores, joining together before sweeping outward.

Fawkes landed on Severus' shoulder, pecking him sharply on the head.

Severus pulled out Albus' wand and handed to him, allowing the phoenix to take and deliver it to his frantic master.

"Ms Granger, whatever will the other students say?"

"I'm nineteen, thank you, twenty something if you count the time-turning, and I'm not your student anymore."

"Researched this thoroughly, have you?"

"My Chambers," Hermione gasped. "Now."

Severus' amusement tugged at his lips. "Does this mean I passed?"

"No," Hermione said, her eye narrowing. "More testing is required. For science."

"Well, we shouldn't disappoint science," Severus muttered, his breath tickling the skin just behind her ear. He swept down the hall, dragging Hermione along beside him like a disobedient student on her way to detention— as long as no one noticed the look of barely contained happiness on Hermione's flushed face.

"Oi, Luna, have you seen 'ermione?"

"Oh, I wouldn't be going that way, Ron," Luna said, scribbling into her notebook with her quill. "You should probably find someone else to help you with your homework tonight."

"Whu— what do you mean? Have you seen 'ermione or not?" Ron asked indignantly. "I'll just go find her. She's probably in her chambers reading or doing some research for McGonagall."

Luna didn't even bother looking up. "I really wouldn't, Ron. Hermione is having the best Niffler-inspired sex of her life with her impromptu magically-blessed husband."

Ron sputtered. "Good one, Luna. Now I know you're pulling my leg. Let me know if anyone else falls for it." Ron trudged off, muttering.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked as he sat down and opened up his notebook to write in it.

"You and Ron are trying to by Animagus right?" Luna said.

"Yeah, Sirius is teaching us so we can know what it was like for them when my dad and him were at Hogwarts," Harry answered. "I wanted to feel a little closer to Sirius. Ron, well, he just wants to outdo Hermione in something. She's been trying too hard, but she hasn't made the shift yet, even with McGonagall teaching her. Why?"

Luna lifted her head. "Ron may be disappointed. Since when does Hermione not succeed in something when she puts her mind to it."

Harry shrugged. "I cast a full-bodied Patronus before her."

"And you were one that was obsessed with that, as I recall, yelling at her for not being able to cast a Patronus her first time under the stress of Dementor attack."

Harry looked down. "Yeah." He shook his head. "What's this about Hermione having wild Niffler sex with her husband? Did you really think Ron would go for that?"

Luna shrugged. "It's the truth."

"What?"

Luna leveled her gaze at Harry. "You know how it works, Harry. Two magical people meet, there is that rare chance that they become magically married if they kiss? We all learned this back when we had to sit in a class with Madam Pomfrey and learn about contraceptive potions and why it was better to come to her and get one then end up pregnant in school?"

"Right, I got that, I mean— Hermione. This is Hermione we're talking about," Harry said.

"She's twenty some years old now after all the time jumping she did, but she'd be of age now, anyway, and she's always been a little more mature than everyone else. She passed all her N.E.W.T.S and already has a job as Professor McGonagall's apprentice. Did you think she would just reproduce by bleeding into a cauldron and growing another self?" Luna asked, scribbling in her notebook. "I don't recommend that, by the way. Many of those experiments did not end well in the Dark Ages."

Harry made strange gasping noises as his mouth worked up and down. "No, not— exactly. There is just no one that is really her type. The only ones she spends time with is Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape doing teachy stuff and grading and— really boring book reading."

Luna eyed Harry.

"Boring to me, Luna," Harry corrected.

"I'm just saying that Ron may end up stuck in his Animagus form if he has a startling and shocking revelation before he's shifted a few times," Luna clarified. "That is one of the risks you take, which is why most people who learn to by Animagi are at adults. Not everyone will end up that way, but that is why we don't learn it here at school in the standard curriculum."

Harry shrugged. "It'll be okay, Luna. Unless he runs across a giant talking spider, Ron can probably handle it. He grew up with the twins, after all. So, who is Hermione supposedly married to?"

"Not supposedly, Harry," Luna chided.

Harry gave her a look.

"Professor Snape, of course."

Harry made a startled bleating sound as his head was weighed down by a rack of impressive stag antlers.

Luna, not even seeming to notice, continued to scribble in her notebook.

Hermione sat on the sofa in front of the hearth as she brushed out her hair, massaging in the tonic into the roots as she did so. It had been a struggle to pry herself away from Severus' warm body, especially after the liberating round of "evaluation" they had undergone both in and out of the shower. Her nostrils flared as she took in the scent of the running shower— the scent of water and a distinctive musk wafting in from the adjoining room. Never had she been more happy to have a private room, and she reminded herself to thank Minerva for insisting she have an apprentice's private quarters.

While she was, technically, more than of age, fully qualified after having taken her N.E.W.T.s, and was of apprentice rank, she was glad that she didn't have to find an unoccupied broom closet like Ron was known to "entertain" Romilda and Lavender in. As it was, they had barely managed to return to her chambers as it was, having practically devoured each other right in the corridors like lustful teenagers.

Not that either of them had been complaining—

Fawkes warbled from his golden perch that had appeared in her chambers— with Fawkes— a few days earlier. Gryffindor or no, she had no idea how to bring the perch back to Dumbledore without causing a bunch of questions she hadn't been able to answer at the time. Now, at least, she knew why all the strange shiny objects had started to appear, but Fawkes didn't seem to want to leave. It wasn't as if she was forcing him.

As she walked by, Fawkes opened his beak hungrily like a chick, and she automatically stuffed a gooseberry into his waiting mouth and caressed his breast feathers.

About time you two got together.

Hermione blinked. She eyed Fawkes suspiciously and shook her head.

Crookshanks rubbed up against her shin and yawned, purring madly. She picked him up and snuggled him, rubbing his ears.

Yeah, I was beginning to think she'd never tell him how she felt.

Hermione put down Crookshanks and shook her head, deciding maybe it was time for tea and a meal, considering she'd been sulking as a Niffler for the last week in Minerva's chambers.

Pop!

"Twinkle brings late dinner for Snapes," the house-elf announced, plunking down a huge tray of food. Mistress McGonagall sends most sincere congratulations and reminder that classes resume on Monday in case you forgottenses."

Hermione arched a brow. "Thank you, Twinkle."

The house-elf disappeared with a pop.

"Wow," Hermione said, eyeing the huge offering of meat pies, fruit, drink, and—"

Hermione chuckled as she picked up the large bowl of fruit and hung it on Fawkes' perch. "There you go, love. Seems as someone is looking out for you."

Fawkes dug in with flair.

Thanks!

"You're welcome," Hermione said, then paused. What the?

There was a small plate with tuna and turkey on it, and Hermione placed it down for Crookshanks, and the half-Kneazle chowed down without any fanfare.

Nomnomnomnom. This stuff is the best. I love house-elves.

Hermione stuck her finger in her ear and wiggled it. Maybe she did need to get some better rest.

There was a knocking at the door just as Hermione sat down to nibble on the food. She slumped, shaking her head. She was tired and really not in the mood for company, but there was a chance that a student needed her for tutoring. If that were the case, she'd just go meet them at the library or the office she shared with Minerva.

She sighed, feeling a little guilty. She had spent the last week or more sulking with Minerva and moving all her shiny objects from one side of Minerva's chambers to another and organising them by shape, size, and colour. At least she had had company, unlike Severus who had brooded by himself, hanging from the rafters of his storage closet.

Weren't they the pair? Hah!

She stared at the ring on her finger, her other hand coming over to tug on it, but it remained stuck to her finger. It glistened, magic shimmering across the amber stone. "Looks like you are stuck with me," Hermione said to the ring.

The ring didn't answer, but it did send a comforting warmth through her hand and up her arm.

Hermione stood, turning to make sure the door to the bathroom was closed, and pulled her robes on to look presentable in public, thankful that robes were blissfully easy to frantic-dress.

She took in a deep breath, put on her professional face, and opened the door.

"Gaaah, 'Mione! About time you answered the door, yeah?" Ron blurted, pushing past her. "I've been looking all over for you. You wouldn't believe the shite Luna said about you."

"Ron, this really isn't a good—"

"You promised to help me with this, 'Mione," Ron muttered. "You've been impossible to find for the last week. Oh! Wonderful, you have food." He slammed the book bag down and plopped down in the seat and helped himself to some elf-made wine, taking a large swig from one of the glasses.

Suddenly Ron spit out what he had taken a drink of, blotting his offended tongue with a napkin. "What the bloody hell is THAT? It tastes like drinking sand!"

Hermione closed her eyes as she touched the cork on the wine bottle. "An hundred-year-old bottle of elf wine," she replied sadly.

"Well, aren't you all fancy with your apprentice status," Ron muttered. He broke off a piece of bread off the crusty baguette and tore it open, slathering soft cheese between it.

Hermione winced, just as disgusted with his table manners as she was when they were first years.

"Oh well, thanks for at least remembering to have food this time." He opened up his textbook with a cheesy hand, flipping to a different page.

Hermione's eyebrow twitched. "Come on, let's go to the library."

"Aw, come on, Hermione, I just got comfortable," Ron muttered. "Besides, I told Lavender to meet us here so she could get help on her project too."

"You what?"

"Just help me here," Ron said, ignoring her. He shoved his half-eaten food and plates into a pile along with the uneaten food, messing up the tray. "There's room here now."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Hermione yelled, her temper finally breaking free of her mortification. "That was my dinner you just shoved aside like common rubbish! I know your mother doesn't let you get way with that at home, so why do you think you can just barge into my quarters, eat my food, and then shove it to the side without even a howdy-do? Then you tell me that you just invited Lavender here without even bothering to ask me first?"

"Oh, come on, 'Mione," Ron said, simply ignoring her yelling. "It's not like you have anything else to do. You eat like a bloody pigeon, and you have no social life."

Fawkes started to sharpen his beak on his perch, eyeing Ron with a steely avian glare.

"Mr Weasley, isn't it well past your bedtime? I believe the curfew ended a half hour ago."

Ron instantly froze in place, his eyes growing wide. Even his hair seemed to stand on end at the sound of that most hated voice. His teeth grit together. "What are you doing in here, Snape?" Ron hissed.

"I believe I was invited, Mr Weasley," Severus said coldly. "Something that someone with your marked level of intellectual dysfunction would obviously be incapable of comprehending."

"Well, I was invited," Ron growled. "Then 'ermione up and disappeared for a bloody whole week, and that's not my fault. You shouldn't be in 'ermione's rooms! It's ruddy indecent is what that is. You may have convinced her that it's all perfectly innocent, but I'm telling the Headmaster that you're a sodding pervert!"

"On the contrary, Mr Weasley," Severus said icily. "I believe I have every right to be here having a nice, quiet dinner with my wife. And seeing as how you just helped yourself to the special dinner I had delivered, and spewed all over the table no less, I think you owe me two hundred galleons."

"Whu— what?" Ron stammered.

"Are your ears broken as well?" Severus asked.

"There is no way. No way you're not lying through your teeth!" Ron blurted.

Hermione held up her hand, wiggling her ring finger.

"No, no, no, no," Ron said, staggering as he stood up from the table, sending objects clattering to the floor.

Glinting, shining silverware went flying along with shiny goblets, and Hermione twitched.

Severus' pale fingers slid across her face and tipped her chin up so she stared him in the eyes. "My wife, it seems you are having trouble focusing on the most important things, hrm?"

Hermione's eyes widened, her nose twitched, caught up in a flood of intense Niffler instincts that were telling her that nothing was more important than the shinies.

Severus very deliberately pulled on the hidden tie that held his hair in check, and the silken curtain of highly shiny, glistening hair swished just so.

Hermione gave a soft, wondrous coo of pure delight.

"Do I have your attention now, my love?"

Hermione let out a very soft squeak in response.

"Good, I would hate to think that you would run off and elope with another giant fruit bat," Severus purred.

"Never," Hermione whispered.

"We seem to have an audience," Severus said.

Hermione wove her fingers through his hair and pulled him down, "I. Want. You."

"In front of Mr Weasley?"

"He's of age."

"Madam Snape!

Hermione placed a gooseberry between her teeth and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Hrrr," Severus answered. "You are playing dirty, wife."

"Yes," Hermione replied, unabashed. "Is it working?"

Severus growled, his mouth descending upon hers. There was an intense flood of heat as powerful tendrils of magic twisted around the couple's bodies. The air around them blurred and twisted, and their bodies seemed to simultaneously tower and expand. For a moment there seemed to be two shapes— the hulking form of a giant bat and the small form of a Niffler. Their shapes seemed to dance together in the mist, joining together into a single, great beast.

There was a low, rumbling growl and then an awesome roar that made the walls themselves tremble. A pair of magnificent, black wings unfurled from a monstrous, bipedal creature. A Niffler's head turned to regard Ron, but when the beaky muzzle parted, fine lines of pristine, glistening fangs dripped the remains of a sticky gooseberry.

A slightly smaller beast stepped out from the larger beast's embrace, its slender tongue shooting out to relieve her mate of the sticky remnants of the fruit, and she turned her head to regard a white-faced Ron, her tongue slid across the front of her new fruit bat fangs. One wing spread to snag the shiny silver spoon off the table and stuff it into her abdominal pouch. Her beak-muzzle seemed to curl slightly, exposing disturbingly sharp and shiny teeth.

Yip!

There was a sudden burst of heat and magic, and Ronald Bilius Weasley hit the floor on all fours as ginger-furred teacup chihuahua. He piddled on the floor in a flood of panic-driven urination and hightailed it out the door—

At least he tried to.

He slammed into the closed chamber door, frantically scratching his tiny claws against the wood as he fought in vain to escape.

Hermione made a clacking nose as her beak clicked together, and she shot out one wing in a gesture. The door flung open, and the little dog shot through it so fast that he slid and slammed into a far wall.

YIP! Yip! Yip-yip-yip!

The larger beast turned to the mirror and stared into it, unfolding his huge wings and feeling his face with his wing-thumbs. "Well, this is new," he growled. "Now instead of a giant bloody fruit bat, and a tiny Niffler, we are both giant anthropomorphic bat-Nifflers. Damn Albus and his curative magic, anyway."

Hermione had her muzzle buried deep in his thick, shiny mane hair.

"Wife."

"Hrm?" Hermione answered, her head jerking up.

"Have you listened to a thing I've said?"

Hermione made a soft purring sound.

Severus growled softly, suddenly aware of how beautiful and shiny his mate's fur was.

WHUMP!

Well, you know what they say about Nifflers—

"Well I certainly don't mind," Pomona said at the High Table. "The greenhouses haven't been so free of snails since Hermione started her nightly rounds. Planting a grove of everbearing fruit trees is not an unreasonable task."

"Thank you, Pomona," Minerva said with a nod. "I'm sure Albus would thank you himself, but he's off convincing the Hogwarts Board of Governors why Hogwarts should support two professors for life."

"That should be an interesting conversation," Flitwick said, passing the bread basket.

Minerva shrugged. "Transfiguration is an exceedingly difficult skill, even to those like Dumbledore who was teaching it back when I was a student. Add a little Hogwarts magic to the mix and you get—"

"Giant anthropomorphic Niffler-bats?" Pomfrey said in amusement.

"Pity they didn't happen sooner," Flitwick said. "Just think of how peaceful the halls would've been at night with a pair of giant Niffler-bats patrolling the corridors."

Minerva snorted.

"Any luck getting the Weasley boy out of his chihuahua form?"

Minerva shook her head. "He's with the Animagus specialists at St Mungo's. Potter was lucky, all he had to have was get his antlers shaved off. They managed to get most of Mr Weasley back to human, but he seems to have, ah, a few parts that simply refuse to revert." She gave the Head Table a meaningful look.

"Really?" Poppy tried really hard to remain neutral, but the entire Head Table was snorting and giggling.

Minerva shrugged. "There is a reason we don't ever teach Animagus transformations in practice at Hogwarts.

"Speaking of Animagi," Septima said. "How are we going to keep all the shiny things from disappearing from Hogwarts?"

"I've edited the school lists to not include any new items such as cauldrons or silver knives unless they are either antiques or hit with an aging charm. All Hogwarts' silverware has been antiqued just enough by ordering all of our house-elves to not shine them up so much." Minerva sighed. "Most of it is just a matter of storing all valuables in magic-sealed boxes if you are really concerned."

"Might be good to offer to put student valuables in magic-storage if they do 'have' to bring them to school," Pomona said. "I haven't ever had anything stolen from me, but it seems like a logical enough thing to do."

Nods of agreement went around the table.

"Good idea, Pomona," Minerva approved. "I will bring it up to Albus when he's finished with his board meetings today."

"We won't be having any nightly raids of our shiny things anymore, will we, Minerva?" Aurora asked, frowning slightly.

"Shouldn't, the other precautions are simply to keep from triggering their instincts. Apparently they are very strong, even while in human form," Minerva chuckled. "I blame the extra large size."

"I have to wonder, what would Hogwarts gain by tampering with Animagi magic and turning them into— well, giant Niffler-bats?" Flitwick asked, nibbling on a piece of his steak.

"Are you kidding?" Pomona blurted. "Have you seen how healthy my greenhouses have been lately?"

"I doubt it was just about your plants, Pomona," Flitwick muttered, rolling his eyes at her.

Rolanda smiled from ear-to-ear. "They'd make excellent Quidditch referees. They miss nothing and they're natural fliers."

"Apparently they speak fluent beast," Poppy noted. "I caught them chatting it up with the gargoyle the other day, and Fawkes won't leave them alone. I'd say he's near as close as a familiar to those two."

"They killed me friends!" Hagrid wailed, sniffling at the end of the table.

"Oh, do get a grip, man," Filius snorted. "You should never have introduced Acromantulas to the Forbidden Forest in the first place. The reason it's forbidden to our students is at least in part because of your doing."

"But they EAT them!" Hagrid sobbed.

"Glad something does," Septima coughed delicately into her hand.

"It would be nice if the Forbidden Forest had a somewhat less horrible reputation," Rolanda said thoughtfully. "It would be truly wonderful if we could open up the forest and reestablish better relations with the neighboring centaur."

The professors all looked up as Dumbledore entered the Great Hall, silently swishing down the aisles in deep purple robes decorated with glittering silver stars. As he walked in, two monstrous shadows followed him, huge wings beating like the thrum of a war drum. The wings folded in as the figures landed behind him, their huge bodies seeming to pull in on themselves as Professor and Apprentice Snape entered in his wake, their fur, muzzles, and paws shifting into a more human appearance. They stared intently at his glittery robes with avid fascination.

Albus sat in his chair as the two Animagi took their seats. Fawkes landed deftly on Hermione's shoulder and begged shamelessly for fruit, causing Hermione to snap out of her shiny fascination and pass him a gooseberry.

"Well, Albus, how did it go?"

Dumbledore rubbed the space between this eyes with his fingers. "My friends, we are looking at Hogwart's first, permanent residents, who will be using their newfound senses and talents in the protection of the school. Severus has been asked to train Hermione officially to take up his position as Potions Master rather than teach Transfiguration as originally planned, and I am to offer Minerva a raise to convince her not to retire anytime soon."

"Well it's about time you got one of those, Minerva," Filius said.

"Here here," Pomona seconded. "You've been working two jobs for years."

Minerva raised her eyebrows.

"At least you didn't have to win a discrimination case to get fair treatment," Filius said with approval.

"Just had to have a professor and Minerva's apprentice get altered by Hogwart's," Septima chuckled.

Poppy turned to Hermione. "So, what does this make you both? If your natural form is now Niffler-bats, but you can shift into a human shape, does that make you Hominumagi? Congratulations, dears, on the marriage. Pomona and I were betting on if the only way you would get together was if Hogwarts stepped in."

Severus gave Poppy and Pomona a familiar dour look.

"Oh, stop it, you silly bat," Pomona huffed. "We're immune to the looks that make your first years cower under desks in the hopes that Death will come for them before they have to look you in the eye.

Severus' lip curled. "Technically, more than just a bat— or less, depending on how you look at it. A hint of longer, sharper teeth glinted from behind his lips.

"You seem to be handling this all quite well, Hermione," Minerva said, giving her apprentice a pat on the hand.

Hermione smiled at her. "It's kind of hard to explain, but it feels like this is the way it's supposed to be. I feel like I've finally come home."

"Seems it is your home," Minerva said with a wink. "Right proper, at last."

Hermione flushed a little. "It wasn't quite how I imagined it."

"Oh, and how would you have imagined it?"

"Severus doing his best to ignore me completely while spouting something about age and propriety and having been my professor?"

"Psh," Minerva said. "He hasn't been your teacher since you became my apprentice. That's right out the door. It's not like you're still eleven. You're of age, taken all your tests— bah. I find myself glad you Nifflered your way into his life. You may not have knowingly acted upon it, but apparently your subconscious knew what you wanted."

"My sleep-stealing Niffler-self?" Hermione chuckled.

"Well, I hope that part is under control," Minerva said. "Albus was about to cry over his lemon sherbets being missing."

Severus gave a sniff, his nose wrinkling. "Serves the old man right for trying unraveling magic to force me out of Animagus form."

Rolanda rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "You do realise he wasn't sure which bat you were, so he just went around the school trying to find the right one.

Severus' eyes narrowed. "He's lucky he didn't create a few hundred mes trying to get to me. You'd have a hundred anthropomorphic bats hanging in the rafters scaring all the children— wait a minute. That'd be an improvement."

Hermione huffed, blowing an errant strand of her hair out of her face. "Minerva found you easy enough. I found you while sleep-roaming. How hard could it be?"

"I am convinced Hogwarts itself was taking me on a merry chase," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "In all the years I have been here, I have never been so led on trying to find one brooding bat Animagus. None of my tracing magic worked."

"You know, I've always thought it was a little much asking Argus to watch over an entire school for the summer all on his lonesome," Aurora said. "Now, if something happens, there will be someone around who can take care of magical crises or just be around in case Argus needs help. You remember what happened that year when the castle was invaded by Cornish pixies. He couldn't even contact the Headmaster without going to the owlry, and then the poor owl got blown into the hurricane off the coast and ended up in Greenland because the pixies had stolen half of the poor things feathers."

"Oh, that was dreadful. All the owls were practically naked and we still had to send out all the letters for the incoming first year students." Pomona said. "Thank goodness Severus was able to create that feather regrowth tonic."

Severus mumbled something about brewing under duress.

Hermione muttered something about other advantages to having an empty school, causing Severus' head to turn and his eyes to bore into her with avid interest.

"Save it for the honeymoon, you two," Filius said with a sniff.

"This summer will be our honeymoon," Severus glowered.

"Oh! I do hope that means we'll be seeing miniature Niffler-bats come next year," Poppy said with far more enthusiasm than she normally contributed.

"That would be splendid! To think of what glorious things the greenhouses will be able to grow!" Pomona agreed.

Hermione turned bright red, bat ears popping out of her hair as she snatched the shiny goblet off the tablet and sipped it with determination.

Severus growled softly, taking great interest in snuffling his wife's attractively shiny-furred ears.

"You know, there is another side benefit to your magically-blessed marriage," Minerva said.

"Oh? Do tell, Minerva," Severus drawled.

"Less children trying to snog each other to death for fear they will actually end up married if they do."

Hermione snorted as Severus seemed to contemplate the benefits and nodded with approval.

"Anything that keeps them from fornicating in the broom closets and behind the curtains is probably a benefit," Severus muttered. "Madam Pince still has not forgiven Mr Weasley for using the library's sole private study room for the exploration of female anatomy."

"Are the books okay?" Hermione gasped.

Severus closed his eyes with a sigh. "The books were unharmed."

Visible relieved, the actual meaning of the conversation seemed to finally sink into Hermione's brain, and she flushed again, making a very serious chain of Niffler-bat squeaks that sounded like an otter crossed with rubber duck.

"I'm pretty sure most of the school thinks I've somehow corrupted her with Dark magic and turned her into my mate with some strange potion taken under a particular planetary alignment," Severus muttered as he saw and heard the eager whispering going on in the Great Hall. None of the students wanted to be caught staring at him, and they frantically turned away, making it even more obvious.

"Hogwash," Aurora said. "The next planetary syzygy isn't due until next month."

Septima Vector snorted at her.

"Don't you start, Septima," Aurora said, shaking her fork at the Arithmancy professor.

Hermione's ears perked and swiveled, catching conversation from around the Great Hall. "It's even worse now. Before I used to think they were talking about me. Now, I know they are. It was bad enough when I started sitting up here as Minerva's apprentice and they thought— well you really don't want to know what they thought."

"Bah, pay them no heed," Minerva scoffed. "Children and adults will talk and gossip. Most of them will be wrong. Why, whatever are they saying now?" Her head tilted as she seemed to listen herself. "From what I hear, they seem to think Hermione has really cute ears."

Hermione tried to bury herself under the table, her ears twitching. Severus touched her back, concealed by the flow of his robes, but Hermione seemed to take comfort from it. "I think Harry is pretty sure I've been cursed," Hermione bemoaned, her ears flattening against her head.

"Potter and I have never had a positive relationship, so I'm sure whatever he comes up with will paint you some poor tragic victim of fate," Severus said.

Hermione shook her head. "I happen to think I'm a rather happy victim of fate," she purred.

Fawkes warbled on her shoulder and begged her shamelessly for a gooseberry.

"Charmer," Hermione said, giving him the fruit.

Severus eyed the phoenix. "Good that he loves fruit more than you, or I'd have to be jealous." He eyed Fawkes who was eyeing a honeycrisp apple in the fruitbowl.

Hermione pffted. "You are not endanger of being forgotten by the wayside, I'll have you know." She handed the apple to Fawkes automatically, not even conscious of what she was doing.

Fawkes warbled happily, sending thrums of pleasure down the High Table.

"Apprentice Granger, could I, perhaps, arrange to have my phoenix returned to me?" Albus whinged.

"But of course, Headmaster," Hermione said. "I returned the perch to your office the other day."

"Yes, but you seem to have kept the phoenix."

"I swear to you I am not holding him captive in any way, Headmaster Dumbledore!" Hermione protested.

Fawkes shot Albus a look, head crest flattening against his head.

"Give up, Albus," Filius said. "Phoenixes are shiny."

"So?"

Filius gave the headmaster expressive eyebrows.

"Oh."

Fawkes let out a chain of melodious notes and went back to shamelessly begging for gooseberries.

Albus sighed. "I should just get myself a chinchilla or a nice, mellow owl."

Hermione yawned as she watched the younger year students enjoy their time at Hogsmeade. There was a strange lightness in the air now that the threat of Voldemort was no longer hanging over every cloud. An even stranger peace seemed to settle down between the four great houses of Hogwarts now that a great number of Slytherin wizard and witches were now orphans by their parents' own hand. Draco had returned for his last year, but his mother had hired in teams of Wizarding folk to "clean" up Malfoy Manor and ensure that there was not anything left over that harkened to the Dark Lord's reign.

Fawkes yawned extra wide into her ear, sending a soft, sleepy warble directly into her brain, which was not helping her in the slightest. After polishing off an entire bunch of bananas between herself and Fawkes, her stomach was content to digest.

There would always be a certain amount of pureblood superiority in the works, but it was no longer mandatory. And just as it surprised Harry to see Draco helping a Muggle-born first year with their homework, people were beginning to realise that there would always be idiots, bigots, and arsemongers, but it was not the rule for one house. Just as Peter Pettigrew came from Gryffindor, not all evil came from Slytherin. That was a lesson that would take some time to fully sink in, but it was a start.

Hermione tilted her head. Much like it would take time for Ron to believe that she was actually married. Slytherin House actually treated her far better than Ron ever had, even after his yappy little chihuahua experience, and they were witness to far more acts of tenderness from her husband than Ronald Emotional-Depth-of-a-Teaspoon Weasley. Those who didn't got their heads soundly thumped by Draco, who had informed them all in no uncertain terms that the reason he was alive was because of that Niffler-witch, and if anyone had anything bad to say about her, he would take great delight using them as a test subject in his contact Portkey finals project.

While Draco and Hermione were not the best friends or even particularly good friends, he did his level best to be civil and respectful when once he had only sneered and scoffed at her. Crabbe and Goyle had formed a bit of a gang with Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, but thankfully it was not the searingly popular one that once been "join or die". Hermione knew, despite how cruel they had been to her, that they were clinging to a dying way of life. Whether it was ever truly the Old Ways or just imagined superiority, there would always be conflict. Even so, she had a feeling that the makeshift gang had no desire to sacrifice their lives to the once Dark Lord.

It was said that Slytherin believed in self preservation, but Hermione believed it was far more than that. It seemed that many of them wished to preserve what they believed was how things were. They grew up on stories of how things were and how things had always been. They had grown up knowing they were special in more ways than others, and some of them had taken that to mean it was because of their blood.

Hermione imagined it would very much be the same if the British royal family and all the courtiers and lords and ladies were suddenly told their titles and status meant nothing and they had to "prove" they were worth something, earn their living like a normal working class person, and all that time spent learning the delicate social nuances and structure was to be cast aside.

It wasn't that Slytherin didn't have very talented individuals, future leaders, and potential like any other magical person. It was that some of them felt they shouldn't have to prove what they had been told all their life. Hermione took a large intake of air and released it slowly. She knew that if her mother and father had someone come up to them and say they couldn't be dentists anymore unless they took a bunch of new tests to prove they were capable it wouldn't have gone over well. It wouldn't be that they couldn't pass them— it was that they would feel they shouldn't have had to.

As for Hermione, magic had proved for her that she was intimately bound as a magical creature. She and Severus' magic had been altered just enough to make them undeniably magical— even if someone like Umbridge would have called them beasts. Beasts would have been kind, knowing Umbridge.

Hermione's sharp teeth glinted as she thought of the toady woman. Oh what chaos it would have been, had she tried to learn to be an Animagus before her apprenticeship with Minerva and under the spiteful reign of Dolores Umbridge. No thank you.

As it was, Hermione's new condition and magically-sealed marriage made her someone either feared or pitied enough that few of the students gave her trouble. She had the name Snape, after all. That alone was enough to make most students hide under the desk rather than look her in the eye.

Hermione rubbed her shoulders with her hands. Her poor mate was at the DMLE making an official statement with Kingsley Shacklebolt that "no, I did not sodding ensorcel Hermione Granger to fall in love with me nor did I infect her and turn her into a monster" as Ronald had accused him of. Hermione's lips curved upward slightly as she imagined him towering and stomping across the Auror's office like a malevolent spectre. Would the young Aurors have the same reaction that first years did to his posturing?

Probably. Severus was very, very good at posturing. He could make drinking tea look menacing.

Hermione was pondering learning from him to stave off the odd, curious, and pitying stares from random people in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Word had travelled fast. Some considered her a heroine, even if it was due a smaller, furry, sticky-pawed alter-ego.

Not so small now, is it, Hermione? A little nagging voice prodded her.

No, she thought, now I'm a larger, winged, furry, sticky-pawed— thing. She was glad that she and Severus had a permanent home at Hogwarts. Few places on Earth could accept resident Niffler-bats as normal, unless she wanted to live in the Department of Mysteries.

Not that Amelia hadn't offered. Often. More than often.

But Hogwarts offered something being under the roof of the Department of Mysteries could not: freedom and a home she wanted to protect. There was no where else that she knew of that a pair of wayward Niffler-bats could make a home and have it accepted as normal— strangely normal. Normal but still strange?

Hermione scratched her cheek with her nails idly. Close enough.

The kids started filing back into the carriages, and her eyebrows went up into her hair as she saw how much they were carrying back with them.

"Mr Abernathy, do you plan on bringing all of Honeydukes back with you?"

The Hufflepuff blushed. "No, ma'am, but some of the first and second years wanted some candy, but they didn't say which kind, so—"

Hermione shook her head, remembering when she and Ron had sneaked back a lot of candy for Harry when the Dursleys refused to sign his permission slip. "I'm sure Honeydukes appreciates your business," she said.

Abernathy grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

A third-year she recognised as being from Ravenclaw hopped into the carriage carrying a large hamper of jams, jellies, and snacks— and a pile of shrunken books filling in the cracks. Yup. Ravenclaw.

"Is there anything left of Honeydukes?" Hermione inquired, raising what many considering the "Snape eyebrow."

"No, ma'am!" the children chimed as they huddled into the carriages.

"Nice to see that Hogwarts has single-handedly cleaned out local businesses," Hermione chuckled. "Woop, Mr McCarthy, can you even see out from under that pile of throw blankets? Planning a picnic?"

"Yes, ma'am," the young Slytherin said. "Someone set loose a room full of blanket-eating moths, so—"

Hermione twitched. Unlike in the Muggle world, when someone said blanket-eating moths at Hogwarts, they meant it literally. The moths would then show the pattern of whatever blanket they had eaten— leading Severus to collect about two hundred plus Slytherin-emblazoned blanket moths rampaging the dormitory.

Severus had not been happy about that. You could repair a blanket, but not if it was eaten. Where the moths had come from, however, remained a mystery. Dumbledore refused to allow Severus to keep the entire school in detention until someone cracked. Hermione couldn't imagine why—

Albus Dumbledore may have his flaws and an unhealthy quantity of manipulative power, but he did at least have a point that putting the entire school in detention was probably a Bad Idea™.

Hermione did a head count. "Everyone have their monies and bags?"

The children nodded.

"Anyone missing anything?"

Blissful lack of loss was her answer. Excellent.

"Alright then, let's go!" She clucked her tongue and the Thestrals headed off in the direction of Hogwarts.

"Go away!" Hagrid yelled, clutching a bundle in his arms as he practically threw himself into his hut and slammed the door.

Hermione blinked. "Hagrid, I—"

"You're a right murderer!" Hagrid wailed. "Are ya gonna eat Fang next?"

Hermione facepalmed. "You realise they were going to eat Fang the moment you back was turned!" she yelled at his door. Her nostrils flared as she caught a whiff of what was in that bundle and her eyes narrowed.

"They'd never do that! They're me friends!" Hagrid bellowed.

Hermione closed her eyes, sighing. Hagrid may trust the Acromantulas, but she knew that while Hagrid would be safe from them due to having saved their sire, it was only he that had the protection. Anyone else, left alone, was prey. Somewhere inside Hagrid, he knew that, or he'd have taken the kids off to "meet the spiders" like he did with hippogriffs and thestrals.

The DRMC had given an edict that permitted the eradication of the Acromantulas wherever they were found as an invasive and dangerous species, but due to having released them in Hogwarts' surrounding forest, no one really travelled there. This had, unfortunately, given Hagrid the ability to "release" his friends into the forest, making the once safe forest into the Forbidden Forest once more.

Hermione's eyebrows twitched. Harry would want her to give Hagrid the benefit of the doubt, but she wasn't so sure if that was the best idea either. Technically, she and Hagrid weren't actual colleagues, but that almost made it worse than when she was "just his friend." As a full-time guardian of Hogwarts, she had a responsibility and even an almost territorial drive to protect its students and staff, its walls and corridors, if not the entire grounds itself and everything within.

She honestly hadn't expected to feel such an overwhelmingly powerful territorial drive, but after discussing it with the resident gargoyle and even Fawkes, it hadn't really seemed so illogical. Being able to speak with the Hogwarts' "beasts" was another perk that she was pretty sure Hagrid didn't know or believe she had. Part of her wondered if the gargoyle and Fawkes were actually a part of Hogwarts just as she and Severus had become. It seemed like it was possible, but if that were true— just how old were Fawkes and the gargoyle, really?

"Hey, Hermione," Harry's voice greeted.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione replied, whirling to look him in the eye as he trudged down the path.

"Uh, any luck in getting Hagrid to—" Harry eyed the closed door. "Guess not, eh?"

"Minerva said to tell him to come to her office, but he's not—"

"I got nuthin' to say to ya!" Hagrid bellowed as the sound of random crashes came from inside the hut.

Hermione gave Harry a look.

"Pity," Harry sighed gustily. "I know he's wanted a chance to work with dragons for ages. Guess we'll just have to tell Charlie that Hagrid couldn't be bothered to come and talk to Professor McGonagall about it."

Hagrid's door came slamming off its hinges as Hagrid himself tumbled out hurriedly. "What's this about dragons?"

"Oh, nothing, Hagrid, just go back to whatever you were doing," Harry said easily. "You obviously wanted nothing to do with Hermione's message anyway."

"No, what's this about dragons!" Hagrid demanded.

Harry crossed his arms firmly and scowled at the half-giant. "I think you owe Hermione an apology."

"I do not! She ate my friends!" Hagrid argued.

"I'll have you know that they almost ate both Ron and me while you were out in Azkaban," Harry said. "Aragog told us to our faces that he didn't give us a second glance. We were only friends of Hagrid, so we were to be eaten."

"No, no, they wouldn't have done 'tha, not ter you an' Ron. They're me friends, they are!"

Harry just shook his head. "Fine, you go right ahead and don't believe me either," he said, gesturing at Hermione to go. "I have one more study session left before the N.E.W.T.S., do you might helping me? I think I have everything down, but— well you know how it is trying to study in Gryffindor Tower."

Hermione snorted. "You can study in Gryffindor Tower?"

Harry grinned at her. "You did."

"I'm hardly normal," Hermione muttered.

"But in a good way," Harry said with a cheeky grin.

"Fine, fine, I'll be sure to grade things a little earlier," she replied, waving her hand dismissively.

"But, dragons!" Hagrid protested. "What's 'is about dragons?!" Hagrid dropped everything, rushing up the path towards Minerva's office.

Hermione and Harry locked their pinkies and shook on it.

"Thanks, Harry."

"No problem, Hermione," Harry replied.

The bundle Hagrid had been carrying was broken and abandoned on the path to his cottage.

"Scary!" a small voice squeaked.

"Way scary!"

Tiny eyes glowed in the shadows of the bundle.

"Is it time to come out?"

"I don't know— I don't think he can understand us."

Hermione leaned down and peered into the broken tube.

"Are you our master?"

Hermione tilted her head. "Um.. why don't you come out?"

Frantic whispering came from the tube.

"Okay, but—"

"Don't be scared, okay?"

"Being squished hurts."

"Nobody loves us."

Slowly, a handful of little fluffy creatures in an assortment of colours and tiny, thin legs skittered out. They looked up at Hermione with round, adorable eyes.

"Oh hai!"

"Hallo!"

Hermione's lips twitched. "You're all so CUTE!"

She held her hands out and they gathered in a pile in her palms.

"Ooo, she's got nice, warm hands!"

"We like you!"

"Aww!" Harry reached out to rub an emerald green one between the eyes. It purred at him and pounced playfully on his fingers.

"Where did you all come from?" Hermione asked.

The little creatures looked around and seemed to shrug at her.

"He kept us in a box."

"Then stuffed us all in a tube."

"Said we'd finally be worth something."

"Are you dangerous?" Hermione asked.

They looked at each other and back at Hermione. "We don't know."

"What are they saying, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"They say they don't know if they are dangerous."

"Well, that's good at least. I wish I could understand this one," Harry said, scratching the little creature's fuzzy body.

Suddenly. the little creature in his hand glowed and a beam of green light shot from it to middle of Harry's forehead, and he tumbled back into the grass.

"Harry! Are you okay?!"

"I'm good," Harry said, coughing. The emerald fuzzball cooed against his cheek and bounced up and down. "I'm okay, little guy. It didn't hurt— and Merlin, I can understand you!"

"Can you understand these guys too?" Hermione asked.

Harry sat up, tilting his head. "Nope. Just this one. That's okay. This little guy is brilliant!"

Hedwig landed on his shoulder and cocked her head to the side. "Hooo."

"You're brilliant too, Hedwig," Harry chuckled.

"Going to name the little guy?"

"Oooo! We want names!"

"Better than being called a stupid fluff ball."

"Or worthless thing."

"Or waste of resources," one of them squeaked sadly.

"Awwww, but you're so adorable!" Hermione

The little creatures cooed as she hugged them all in her arms and whispered sweet gibberish to them.

And with that, the pact was sealed, and they all flooded up her arms and nestled into her mane of hair, instantly disappearing from sight.

Hermione itched her neck. "Well, I never thought I'd be happy to have such wild, bushy hair."

Harry grinned as his little green puffball cheered from atop Hedwig's head.

"Screee?" Hedwig chirped questioningly.

The little emerald creature hopped into Harry's mop of unruly black hair and disappeared.

Harry grinned at Hermione. "I've got crazy hair too."

Fantastical Prismatic Puffball-Spider Adoption

West Courtyard

1 Hour before dinner bell

Want a friend?

Need a friend?

Come see if one of the exotic puff-ball spiders wants you to be their new friend!

Helpful and curious, they will bend over backwards to help you for only a little bit of love. Able to mend your socks as well as craft you a missing tie or a hair ribbon, these little guys are in high demand. The only catch is, they have to like YOU, so come to the west courtyard and see if you've got the stuff!

Disclaimer: Once they are gone, they're gone, and all of them have been strictly tested and passed the official DRMC inspection for acceptable pets and familiars. Headmaster Dumbledore has made a special exception for these charming little creatures, and they are not available anywhere outside of Hogwarts!

"Eeeggh!" Ron groaned as Harry snuffled his little friend.

"He smells like key lime pie, mate," Harry said. "Here, take a whiff!"

"NO!" Ron yelled, putting about ten feet between himself and Harry, but he ended up bumping into Seamus who was entertaining his own little friend on his hands.

The little spiderling went flying off into Neville's goblet of pumpkin juice, and he ended up using a nearby spiderling to blot his eyes. "What the hell, Ron?"

Neville apologised to the little creature and patted him dry with a napkin. "Sorry, little guy."

"That's okay!"

"We're absorbent!" another said as it skittered by with a salt and pepper shaker.

Seamus rescued the soaked purple spiderling from the goblet and blotted her dry too. She squeaked with each blot and then scurried up his arm to disappear under his collar. Seamus busted out in helpless giggles as he wriggled due to his little friend's hyperactive scurrying.

"Best little friends ever," Seamus said.

"They even get along with Trevor," Neville agreed, eyeing the little blue fluffball cheering from atop his toad's head.

"I wonder why someone wanted to get rid of them?" a small second year asked, smiling as a little golden ball of fluff fetched him a napkin.

"I dunno," Seamus said. "Some people create something thinking they will be something else and get mad when they aren't, ya know?"

Neville sighed. "Like my nan and me… only she blames me for being a defective by-product of my amazing Auror parents."

Seamus patted him on the back. "Not quite what I meant, mate. And you need to just ignore her. After we get out of here, we're going prove to her that we're not slouches."

"What is your plan, Seamus?" Harry asked. "Finally decided on one?"

Neville nodded. "We're going to make a herbology business. I'll be handling the plants, and Seamus will be making custom greenhouses that can withstand magical plants."

"Great idea," Dean said as he reached for a roll from the nearby basket.

"Hey, any idea why Care of Magical Creatures has suddenly gotten less dangerous?" a fourth year asked.

"Conner, right?"

The boy nodded.

Harry smiled. "I think Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore gave him an ultimatum. No incidents with students and magical creatures or they wouldn't give him the reference to work at the dragon preserve."

Seamus raised a brow. "This didn't happen to have anything to do with your having to donate some of your memories to Dumbledore, yeah?"

Harry nodded. "Both Ron and I did, actually. Details of the night we almost got devoured by spiders— Hagrid's friends."

"That must have been a fascinating meeting," Neville said, just as a whoosh of warm air rustled their clothing. Two large beast-shapes shrank down into human ones, but while one looked slightly less intimidating, the other caused Neville to flinch and immediately hug his nearby plant.

"It's just Hermione," Harry comforted.

"Hermione and SNAPE!" Neville bemoaned. "How could she— why would she—" Neville looked like he was going to cry.

"Technically, she's already a Snape now—" Seamus pointed out.

Neville moaned, and the blue spider on his head cooed softly in comfort.

Seamus shrugged. "I really don't know what his problem is," he told Harry. "It's not like he was trying to court her or something."

Dean made frantic waving gestures that plainly told Seamus to stop talking.

Seamus stared. "What?!" he mouthed.

Dean nodded rapidly.

Seamus's jaw dropped.

Harry's jaw practically thunked against the table.

Ron spewed his juice and blurted, "Why the bloody hell would you want to go out with 'ermione!"

Professor Snape and Hermione turned in unison to stare at Ronald Weasley. Hermione's face shifted from the flush of embarrassment to veiled anger. Severus narrowed his eyes, his arm going around her waist as she turned and pressed her face into his robes, steeling her jaw as her was fist tightly clenched.

A flash of emerald velvet robes stalked by. "Mr Weasley. You will come with me to my office."

"Whut?" Ron's mouth was full of honey-barbeque chicken wings and chips.

"You seem to have a serious problem remembering how to treat the staff of Hogwarts with proper respect, Mr Weasley," Minerva said coldly. "As a seventh year student, I would think you would you would know better by now."

"I didn't say anything to old Snape!" Ron protested.

"Professor Snape, Mr Weasley," Minerva said, "and Apprentice Snape."

"They're not really married!" Ron insisted. "He must've ensorcelled her!"

"Mr Weasley!" Minerva said through gritted teeth. "To the Headmaster's office. Now. Right this minute!"

Ron just stared at her in open-mouthed disbelief.

"Go!" Minerva hissed.

A clutter of multicoloured fluffballs skittered towards Ron.

Ron paled and fled the Great Hall with all due haste.

A fluffy pink ball on Minerva's shoulder sighed loudly.

"Indeed," Minerva agreed, sweeping the hall with a flurry of her elegant robes.

Hermione stared off to where Minerva had left. "Isn't that your trademark exit, love?"

Severus' eyebrows lifted. "I think she's been picking up some of my habits lately." He turned to her, touching her chin with his fingers. "Plan on picking up any habits of mine, my wife?"

Hermione gave him an impish expression. "I've already taken up hanging by my feet from the rafters." She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

"Minx."

"Niffler. Bat." Hermione replied with a grin. "By default, I have already taken up your more predominant proclivities."

"Terrorising students with my overwhelmingly happy demeanor?"

"Happy. Mhhmm," Hermione replied. "Definitely happy. Practically oozing ecstatic singing rainbows everywhere."

Severus eyed his wife. "Now, you're just being ludicrous."

"I'm ludicrously in loooove," Hermione purr-cooed.

"Ewwwww!" the first years said together.

Severus whirled around, and they all squeaked in terror, diving for cover. His eyebrow twitched as his lip curled automatically in a familiar expression of disgust. His fist clenched, making his knuckles whiten.

Hermione put her arm around his and tugged him along to the Head Table, forcing him to walk instead of posture.

Severus grumbled under his breath, half-growling just enough to cause the younger students to squeak fearfully in automatic response.

Pomona shook her head at Severus as the pair sat at the Head Table. "Severus, you're going to be a right bloody mess when Hermione finally starts showing."

Severus froze, his fork hovering in mid-air.

Pomona exchanged glances with the other female professors and Hermione flushed red and tried to bury herself under the wide assortment of jams and jellies and steal all of the sparkling preserves bottles.

"Nothing, dear," Pomona said.

The wizard glowered at Pomona silently, but she only smiled back at him, perfectly serene and smug.

Severus looked as though he were going to say something more, but Hermione waved a peach slice in front of him. He immediately eyed it hungrily just as Fawkes nicked it and swallowed it.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she tried not to laugh, but failed.

Severus growled at the offending phoenix.

Fawkes warbled a merry tune that sounded suspiciously like Beethoven's Ode to Joy.

Hermione stuffed a piece of mango into his mouth, distracting him from murdering the fruit-loving phoenix.

Severus sighed and gave Hermione a softened look. She beamed at him, her fingers curling around his hand and rubbing the softness of his palms. He gently squeezed her fingers. "Very well, the avian interloper may live."

"So it's true then?" Molly gasped, staring across Dumbledore's desk accusingly.

"It is, indeed," Albus said, idly tracing a rather intricate rune on the top of a box in order to get access to his beloved lemon sherbets.

A fuzzy ball of lavender fur went darting across the desk, startling Molly badly.

"Don't mind him. He's just getting used to his new place. Seems everyone at Hogwarts has one. Even Argus has one, and he seems far better for it, to be quite frank."

Molly's eyes widened as the lavender fluff ball eyed her a bit suspiciously. She fidgeted nervously in her seat. "Aren't you going to do something about it?"

Albus raised a brow. "I beg your pardon? What exactly would you have me do?"

"You know very well that my Ronald was planning to marry the girl! Snape has no right to force her to marry him! It's positively indecent! He's far too old for her!"

Albus stroked his beard. "Far be it from me to presume you do or do not know the intricacies of magical marriage, Molly. They were married, sealed with magic and a kiss and— well, the traditional follow-up. It is what all of us are properly schooled and warned from about the moment we enter into our teens. You, I believe, know this to be true from your own marriage to Arthur."

Molly's eyes widened. "That's simply not possible, Albus. My Ronald told me she had already accepted his proposal! They were going to get married this summer at Shell Cottage! I paid for the engagement announcement myself right after Ronald told me!"

Albus' eyes widened at that. "Then I highly recommend you have it withdrawn immediately, Molly. Marriage is the one deliberate fabrication of which our society does not tolerate. The estimable Miss Skeeter does, in fact, carefully tread the line of insinuating and implying everyone of being guilty of almost anything and everything under the sun, but even she has never dared to make a false announcement of marriage or anything along those lines. It would bring tremendous dishonour upon Hermione and her husband, and I remind you that far less heinous offenses have been used to justify a duel to the death in the not-too-distant past, if you take my meaning."

Molly's eyes went as wide as saucers. "But my Ronald told me! He wouldn't ever dare lie to his own mother! I sent— oh Merlin! I was so angry— I sent a—"

Albus narrowed his eyes at the visibly distraught witch. "Molly, please tell me you didn't send a Howler to Madam Snape! That's the last thing Severus needs is to feel his honour insulted in a public—"

Albus was talking to an empty chair. Molly was gone.

Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt

Honours Wizarding Britain's Greatest War Hero and Heroine,

Severus and Hermione Snape

While many people were honored during the latest bestowal of Orders of Merlin at last night's ceremony at the Ministry, Minister Shacklebolt announced, at long last, the identity of his most reliable secret agent in the Voldemort War: Severus Snape, current professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To the great astonishment of many, the true task and list of accomplishments made while under Kingsley Shacklebolt's watchful eye, Severus Snape did the impossible by serving the Dark Lord in secret and bringing essential information back to Shacklebolt.

Secondary, but no less important, on the night that the Dark Lord met his final end by his own people— cursing himself into the formation of the nefarious Dementor— Hermione (then Granger) Snape managed to frame each Death Eater for stealing each other's wands and caused a mass, paranoid, all-out brawl where the only ones to walk away were Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Lady Narcissa Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy.

Both Hermione and Severus Snape have been causing quite a fuss at the Animagus Registry due to their uniquely altered forms, thanks to what is to be believed as Hogwart Castle's own doing— taking action to ensure it has guardians to protect it. Upon their marriage by magic's blessing, their forms merged together and they became something no one seems to know what— but everyone seems to believe that the future of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is in very good hands.

During the speeches, both Hermione and Severus Snape bowed their heads in respect to all those who did not make it and those who had not been fighting in the front lines.

"To protect one's family and friends does not mean being in the front taking spells to the face," Hermione said in her speech. "The greatest magic is that between friends and family— the bonds of love that drive a person to do extraordinary things. Some may call this the greater good, but I believe magic desires balance. There cannot be light without darkness, but there can be balance— and magic, like Nature itself, seeks a way to make this happen."

"Sometimes through the sneak mechanisations of a medieval magical school," Severus added.

After all the recipients of the Order of Merlin received their medals and accolades, Minister Kingsley threw an impromptu marriage reception for a number of couples that had most recently been married or had to marry under the cover of darkness during the war. The celebration was reported to be fit for royalty.

Marriage Announcement:

Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger

Wedding set for next April at Shell Cottage in Cornwall. Please join our family in celebration of their nuptials. All correspondence can be sent to Ronald Weasley by owl.

War Heroine Cheats on New Husband with Childhood Crush!

The shameless Muggleborn hussy who couldn't keep her paws off of both Harry Potter and Viktor Krum has now broken War Hero's Severus Snape's heart! What is my evidence. do you say? Just look at the marriage announcement in this very paper! Paid for by non other than Ronald Weasley's own mother!

What is a person to think?

Is it hearsay? Or is it real? Surely Hermione Granger's checkered past is enough to cast more than a little doubt on the happiness of her supposed marriage to Mr Snape! All we demand is the truth! Did their 'marriage by magic' ever really happen?

Neither Hermione Snape (née Granger) or Severus Snape has made themselves available for comment.

"Of course she's gonna marry me," Ronald Weasley proudly informed us. "There's no way she's really married to that ugly, greasy Slytherin git."

Severus put the paper down. "So many months of this ridiculous drivel, and it never seems to end."

Hermione shrugged. "At least Molly has stopped sending us three dozen batches of biscuits every week in a frantic effort to appease us both."

"Pity, her shortbread biscuits were truly stellar."

"Severus!"

The dark-haired wizard just shrugged. "Had I but known that challenging Mr Weasley to a wizard's duel would have given me and endless supply of homemade baked goods, I would have done it sooner," he muttered.

"I'm not sure what caused Mr Weasley to come more unglued, Severus," Pomona chuckled. "Your challenge of honour or the fact his own best mate offered himself as your second."

Hermione grinned. "I love you, my precious husband, and I love my best friend too."

Severus huffed. "I suppose he has rightfully earned his place at our Friday spaghetti night."

"That's a true honour. Everyone has been trying to get invited to your Friday night dinners for years," Rolanda said.

"Fine. this Friday, you are all invited to dinner. Bring a dish and we'll make it a proper potluck," Severus grumbled, but there was not venom to his voice.

Grins went down the table.

Aurora leaned over. "Whatever happened to Mr Weasley? I mean we all saw him turn into a little dog, but did someone find him?"

Septima shook her head. "Last I heard, Molly was still out searching for him. She lost track of him somewhere around the Forbidden Forest. Who knows how far he got if he was stuck that way— no Apparition on the Hogwarts grounds and all."

"Well, that was quite a few weeks ago," Pomona boggled. "Surely they managed to find him by now?" She looked inquiringly at Hermione and Severus.

"Why are you looking at me, woman?" Severus snapped. "I am no longer his keeper in any capacity anymore, not even to keep him from blowing himself up."

Hermione grasped his hand and smiled.

Severus' face softened and he sighed deeply. "I have no idea where the little moron is. If he was smart he stayed around Wizarding areas, otherwise he's liable to get caught by a Muggle dog warden and adopted out to a family somewhere."

"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad," Minerva quipped. "Plenty of food and a loving family too."

Severus exchanged glances with Hermione. "Just one minor thing he might be worried about."

"Mummy! Mummy! I want that one!"

The little girl in a pink bow bounced up and down. "He's so tiny, just like me!"

The dog in the kennel looked up groggily, yawning.

"He just had his special surgery yesterday, love, but if you really want him you can come back in a few days and get him, once he's healed up," the lady at the kennel said kindly.

"You sure that pup's the one you want?" her mother asked.

"Yes, mummy!" the girl nodded eagerly.

"Well, if that's that, you can fill out the paperwork, and we'll give you a call just as soon as his stitches look good."

"Okay!" the girl said excitedly. "Can I name him now?"

"Sure, we can put it on his tags."

The girl bit her lip and pondered. "Veronica!"

"That's a girl-dog name, dear," her mother corrected.

The girl tugged on her mom's ear and whispered something into it.

Her mother's face turned distinctly red as she looked at the warden. "We'll go with the second name then. Monty."

The warden smiled, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle a snicker. "This way, ma'am."

Outside the kennels, the dogs were barking madly and jumping as they stared out towards the nearby woodlands, so much so that the keepers moved them back indoors so they wouldn't see whatever it was that was bothering them so much.

Silently, a tall black stag twitched one ear as it rubbed its velvet-covered antlers against a nearby tree.

Remember when I said you'd pay dearly for dosing me with love potion so I'd go out with your sister my entire final year? Harry thought darkly to himself. Karma's a real bitch, Won-Won.

The black stag slowly walked deeper into the forest and disappeared. Shortly after there was a muffled crack, and the stag was gone.

"Lavender! You just have to see the new puppy Lucille picked out at the pound!" Laurel called out happily.

"Coming, coming!" Lavender said. "Sorry, I've just been absolutely frantic moving into my new flat an all. Sorry, sis. I know I told you to come visit as soon as you got back. How was your stay in the States, anyway?"

"Oh, it was exciting, but I'm really glad to be home, yeah?"Laurel said with a nod.

"Auntie Lavender! Look!"

Lavender suddenly found a ginger-haired teacup chihuahua shoved into her face. The little dog was dressed to the nines in a tiny pink sundress and sported a doggy umbrella with rainbow-coloured ribbons. Her eyes went very wide. "Wow, you really dressed the little guy up."

Lavender stared at the dog. "This probably sounds rather strange, but I think he looks a bit familiar."

The chihuahua barked crazily and jumped right into Lavender's arms, licking her face and then— he piddled all over the front of her jumper in his obvious excitement.

"Oh, EW!" Lavender shoved the pup away and immediately jumped up, grabbing her wand to clean herself off.

Monty jumped up and snatched the wand, wrapping his teeth around it, shaking it in his mouth and growling—

Nothing happened.

"Now you give me that back right now, Mister!" Lavender demanded, reaching for her wand.

Monty yipped and dove under the armoire, taking the wand with him.

"Good thing Hermione and Harry helped me out with learning a little wandless magic," Lavender grumped. She focused, jutting her hand out, and her wand came flying to her— still attached to the terrified little dog.

"Bad dog," Lavender scolded, handing him over to her elder sister. "Sorry sis, I'm going to go clean up."

"I'm so sorry!" Laurel apologised.

Lucille bopped Monty on the nose with a finger. "Bad puppy! No piddling on Auntie Lavender."

Laurel sighed. "Careful now, he's such a small thing. Don't just beat him on the nose when he can't be sure what it was that he did wrong."

"Sorry, mummy."

"It's okay. Just remember that he's really tiny and much more delicate than most doggies."

Lucille nodded. "I'm going to give him a bath in the sink. He's really stinky, mummy."

"Good idea, love," her mother replied fondly.

"Mum, can we take him with us to the party?"

"Hey sis, do you mind if we take Mr Manners here with us to the party?"

"Sure, it's going to be held outdoors on the green, so no worries."

"Great, thanks!"

Everywhere Ron looked, he was treated to a sodding nightmare.

Not only was he forced to hide under one of the tables with a nicked chicken leg— damn, but he was starving— but he was dressed up like a sodding girl in a doggy party dress with a glittery little tutu, no less!

He spotted his sister on Draco Sodding Malfoy's arm. Harry was there holding hands with Astoria Greengrass—

No. No. No! This wasn't right at all!

Ron ran up to Harry and barked frantically at him. Surely he would know it was him, his very best mate!

But Astoria started sneezing wildly, and Harry quickly escorted her to the other side of the green.

Ron saw his mother and started barking like crazy, trying to get her attention, but she was talking to the Minister— Kingsley Shacklebolt— and, damn it, she didn't even glance down!

The girl was chasing him. Oh no! Not again!

He ran away again, frantically searching for a new place to hide. The girl was crying for him, but he didn't care. He wanted to be a— ooo, was that sausage he was smelling over there?

Ron drooled.

No! He was a man! He was a— r-r-r-ruff! That was definitely sausage!

Ron's tail wagged, and he made a bee-line toward the table, whining when he realised it was way too high for him to get to.

Crystalline eyes peered over the edge of the table as countless multicoloured spiders stared down at him, while even more of them were passing around snacks. Miniature pasties, sausage rolls, pork pies— delicious fairy cakes in all kinds of tempting flavours, Victoria sponge and fresh strawberries, but damn it, it was all out of his reach!

Ron whined in thwarted desire, but his eyes locked on the multiple eyes staring narrowly at him. His fur stood on end.

Yoink!

A pair of freckled hands scooped him up.

"Well, hello there, little git brother," George said.

"Enjoying your time off?" Fred said.

"After what you did to mother, I'm surprised she didn't neuter you."

"Wait— looks like she did neuter you!"

Ron stared down at himself, gaped in horror at his missing bits and squirm-yipped.

"Tell you what, little git-bro," Fred said.

"Because we really care," George said.

"We're going to let you toddle off and spend the rest of your miserable life with that charming little lady," Fred continued.

"Because after the humiliation you brought down upon our family— especially after Ginny found out that Harry didn't actually love her because you went and fed him ruddy Amortentia—"

"Well, let's just say that Mummy isn't exactly tending the hearth and waiting for you to come home anymore."

"So, for the good of everyone," George said.

"We're going to just go pretend that we have no idea who you are."

Ron yip-growled and bared his tiny teeth, sinking them into Fred's finger.

Fred flinched and then very calmly set Ron down on the ground.

"Goodbye, little git brother." The twins both sauntered off together, never looking back.

Ron tore after them, yipping and barking, so intent on chasing after them that he didn't notice the floating cart of refreshments and slammed right into it, head first. Seeing stars, Ron rolled over, trying to spot his traitorous brothers only to catch sight of Professor Snape lifting a glass to everyone. Beside him was a glowing, joyous Hermione, her belly swollen with child. She looked up at Snape with a warm smile that did not belong on her face and should never be directed at the greasy Slytherin git. Not at him! Not at that git!

"My friends, thank you all for coming to our baby shower. We truly appreciate all the gifts you made towards our little one's future, and we have made Poppy swear not to tell us if our unborn child is male or female, so we appreciate single every one of your great kindnesses," Severus said.

"And your patience in not knowing either!" Hermione laughed.

The clutter of helpful spiders cheered from the picnic tables, passing out even more glasses of punch, tea, pumpkin juice, lemonade and butterbeer.

"I am glad all of you are here to celebrate with us— not just in our future child but that we are all here today. Friends and family." Hermione cast her gaze to her parents that were sitting next to Minerva and Rolanda. Her father gave her a smile and nod.

"It seems that some of us have gained some new friends," Hermione chuckled, watching as Lavender's little niece was charmed by a bubblegum pink fluffball with rainbow spots. It offered her a chocolate biscuit, and she squealed happily, hugging the little creature close. "I'm so happy, and I hope that you are all happy too. I know a few years ago, we'd never have thought to see what we have today, and this is such a wonderful, glorious thing."

"Please, enjoy the food and festivities. Share in the happiness that we have been gifted with," Severus said, looking down into his wife's warm brown eyes. A tug of a smile moved the corners of his mouth. Hermione tugged his head down and gave him a kiss in front of everyone.

Severus raised his glass to everyone. "To the future we have made together."

Hermione raised her glass of pumpkin juice. "May we all find that bright shininess in our lives and keep it close to our heart. Sometimes it is closer than we think."

The sounds of clinking glasses and happy whispering spread throughout the crowd.

Severus looked down into Hermione's eyes with a warm expression. "You don't have to be a Niffler to know a good thing when you see it," he said with a chuckle.

"But it sure helps!" Hermione said cheekily as everyone laughed and cheered, all making merry together— no Dark Lords and no worries at long last.

All except for Ronald Weasley, who was frantically running through the Dark Forest as fast as four tiny paws could carry him, dressed in a pink ballerina dress and a sun bonnet.

"Come back!" cried a tiny, forlorn fluffball. "I just want a hug!"

"Eeee!" it cried as two large hands picked it up.

"And what are you, little one?" Firenze said as he stared at the little peach-coloured spider.

"Hallo!" it greeted the blond centaur. "Will you be my friend?"

"I suppose so," Firenze said. "Was that your friend?"

"He wasn't very nice. He tried to drown me in peach tea."

"Well then, I suppose you can come home with me then," Firenze said.

"Yay!" the little creature cheered. It stopped and stared at him somewhat suspiciously. "You don't try to drown things in peach tea, do you?"

Firenze laughed. "No, my little friend. We do not."

"Okay!" the little fluffball promptly scurried up his arm and nestled into Firenze's mane. "Tally ho!"

And they all lived happily ever after.

(Well, except for Ron, who tumbled into the Acromantula den and fled screaming into the night, last seen heading towards the Scottish coast.)

Fin.

Spider whispering: We sneaked into another story!

Well of course we did!

We're great like that!

Yup!

Do you think we can do it again?

Shh. Shh.. Don't let on!

Okay— if you say so!

(spiders quietly close the curtains)

A/N: Um… Hee. I regret nothing. Extra kudos to The Dragon and the Rose for staying up past her bedtime to beta this story. (I may regret that!) Sorry! ((so many hearts!))