A/N: The conclusion! YAY!

Beta Love: The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01, and Commander Shepherd, who shall never find his game controller until he shares his dinner recipes! MUAHAHAHAHA!

Chapter 3: Sphinx For the Memories

"How is she doing?" Poppy asked as Healer Faulkner came out of the other room.

"Resting," he replied kindly. "It will take some time to process. I have— tried an experiment."

Three sets of curious eyes descended upon the Healer.

Faulkner held up his hand. "Peace, nothing bad. I tried running a scan on her while she was in her Animagus form, and I think— the key to her remembering is locked in the Animagus form. Cat brain versus human brain. While the memories the same, they are stored differently, entwined with scent and sensation. It is possible, triggering a familiar— or should be familiar— scent and sensation, will release those memories to her human self. I will try more when she is done watching your memories. There must be something there first to encourage the remembering. In cases such as the Longbottoms— they were forced to remember after being Obliviated— perhaps in the hopes that in remembering they would say things out loud, as many do. But, since there were no memories of something familiar left to them— and no anchor— all they had was torture."

"I wasn't aware you were working with the Longbottoms," Hermione said. "I should have guessed, considering your work with mind-healing."

Faulkner smiled. "There isn't a single mind-healer alive that hasn't thrown themselves at the Longbottoms, and all of them have only momentary success at best. They had no anchors but each other. The son was too young to have memories to serve as an anchor. His emotions were too young, too unformed, to create one. Even now— as much as he may think he wants them back, he cannot call them back with his image of how they truly were, only what he things they were."

Poppy shook her head. "They were good people. I remember them being so fond of each other. One or the other would always try and protect the other. One would end up under my care, and the other would sit vigil. Some days it was Frank. Some days it was Alice."

"Obliviation aside," Faulkner said, "Madam Lestrange certainly didn't help by extensively torturing them with Crucio on top of it all. There are more than Longbottoms in the ward— many victims of her horrifying version of 'fun'."

Severus curled his lip. "Bellatrix was not known for her patience or her kindness. Neither of the Longbottoms ever had a chance. Rumour had it that she cursed her husband while they were still in school, forcing him to marry her in a nice Pureblood marriage befitting a Black. No one truly wanted to marry her. Even then, she was patently unstable. And even in marriage, her lust for the Dark Lord in body and power was far too obvious, even to Rodolphus, but by the time the truth became so clear, they had already been bound and warped by the Dark."

"I never had the displeasure of knowing her," Faulkner confessed. "Of this I can be only grateful."

"She did love her Crucio," Hermione said, her hand drifting to her arm where "Mudblood" was carved into it, "and her other choice forms of torture." Hermione ran her fingers across the scar and frowned, taking a moment to look at it. "Strange. It seems somewhat lighter and almost blurry around the edges now. Not like it was originally. Red, jagged and ugly."

"It was a cursed blade, yes?" Faulkner asked, gesturing at her to let him look, which she did. He ran his hands over the carved scar, his eyes unfocused as he looked beyond it. "The curse is fading, Hermione. Unmistakably so."

"At the risk of sounding like a moron, is that possible?" Hermione asked. "Everything Healer Penwhistle told me after the war was that all chance of healing the scar was gone since so much time had passed without being tended."

Faulkner shook his head. "Healer Penwhistle is a great man and a marvelous healer, but he is not a specialist in cursed wounds. His expertise lies in diseases of the blood. Cursed wounds can be healed long after, if another injury spurs on healing in the same area."

Severus touched Hermione's arm. "Arthur Weasley's slicing hex."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh— I'd already forgotten all about it."

"There is more to it," Faulkner said. "My sight can see the writhing of strong magic under your skin. Something life-changing has happened to you. Something powerful has imprinted itself upon your soul."

Severus was uncannily still. "Would giving birth to a ley line count?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh, skip over marriage entirely and get right to the crazy?"

"Crazy, perhaps," Severus stated calmly, "but true."

"You did what?" Poppy gasped.

Hermione and Severus instantly turned away from each other, flushing.

"Severus?" Poppy asked, using her practiced you-better-tell-me voice.

Severus twitched, his tufted, pointed ears flicking out of his black hair and then flattening against his head. "We are a mated pair, Poppy. It was perfectly natural."

"You're Animagi!" Faulkner exclaimed.

Hermione and Severus flattened their ears back against their skulls, unable to restrain the instinct.

"Erm, yes?" Hermione said tentatively.

"And Minerva— she taught you?"

"Yes—?"

The elder Healer grabbed the pair by the wrist and dragged them with him towards the room he had Minerva resting by herself. "You need to come with me right now!"

Poppy sat in the now empty living room, sipping her tea. "Well then, I think I'm going outside to pick some dates."

PurrrpurrrrBONK.

. BONK.

"Gah, kindly release my face from your attentions, Minerva!" Severus moaned as the silver tabby purred, rubbed, turned around, and purr-rubbed all over again.

.PURRRRRRR. Bonk.

"It's useless, Severus, you might as well let her get it out of her system," Hermione chuckled. Her fur was half-silver thanks to the enthusiastic attentions of one silver tabby Animagus. "I have enough fur here to knit myself a second Minerva."

"Arrrr!" Severus complained, and then instinct kicked in and he slurped Minerva over, knocking her arse over kettle, with his huge, raspy sphinx tongue.

PUrrRRRRrrrRRRRrrRRRR!

"Now you've done it," Hermione chuckled, sprawling out on the warm sand. "I'll have to go spend time with Kingsley because you're going to have your paws full with Minerva for the next month."

Severus used his massive front paw to pin Minerva down and bury her in the sand before bounding over to Hermione and tackling her in the sand. Hermione roared in protest and they chased each other around the simulated oasis, kicking up sand as they went.

Severus tried to trip Hermione up, but she was more experienced in her sphinx form, and she dodged, sending her mate tumbling into the oasis water. He came up sputtering, and Hermione pounced, using her wings to speed her descent, and she tackled him, sending him rolling across the beach, roaring. They tumbled and flopped together, panting, tongues lolling as they rolled onto their sides in a tired heap.

PurrrBONK. PURrrRRRrrrrr.

Minerva was back.

Hermione curved her paw around Minerva and yoinked her close, pressing her face into Minerva's fur.

"Severus?"

"Hn?"

"Dumbledore could have tried to Obliviate me as well— take away my memories of my Animagus form, but he didn't. Why?"

"Maybe, as you said, the ley lines protected your memories. He could have, but then the next time you ran into a ley line, it restored them," Severus mused. "Or—"

Severus frowned. "Or he fully intended to allow you to protect Potter in every way possible."

"I tore the Snatchers to shreds, Severus."

"And Potter is alive because of it."

"You think— he Obliviated my knowledge of you but not my spell knowledge because he wanted me to know those things to protect Harry? But not remember you?"

"I think that is exactly what he did," Severus replied.

"But why remove the memories from you?"

"I was needed— bitter and alone. You were needed— convinced that Weasley was worth saving and Potter as your main existence. Think a moment— had you known that there was someone waiting for you, who cared for you, would you have allowed the farce to go on with Weasley? Would you have been content with roughing it out in a tent for a year— never once contacting anyone? What would you have done, had your parents not been killed in that accident? Would have have stood idly by, knowing their daughter was out camping with a friend for a year instead of going to school?"

"You're saying Dumbledore had my parents killed?"

"No, I'm saying he eerily knows everything that is going on, but he strangely had no idea your family was in danger. He, the man who was trying to convince the Ministry that the Dark Lord had returned— just happened to not see a looming threat to the family of the girl he was grooming to be Potter's ace in the hole." Severus groomed her ears. "Now, a typical person would say that no one could possibly be that omniscient. But this was Albus Dumbledore— a man who specialised in sticking his beard into everyone's business. He had quite a few decades to polish up his skills in that area."

"So, a man who can manage to be exactly where he needs to be to save Potter in front of a Wizengamot kangaroo court, place a mirror exactly where he would find it, have just enough laxness in security to tip Potter off to a large, overgrown, three-headed monster guarding a mysterious trapdoor—somehow can't figure out that Hermione Granger's parents are in grave danger."

"He leaves Potter alone in his office with a Penseive full of memories that just happens to roll on out of the cabinet. He happens to have a familiar fly down to so bravely to save a child bitten by a Basilisk— the only familiar capable of curing a basilisk's bite. Let's not forget about how easy is it to get into the restricted section of said library, when Madam Pince has been trying to get the library stacks upgraded for longer than I have been alive. There is also the matter of all the things that weren't said, leading many to believe a great deal about who was guilty— yet you have people like Lockhart who would rather look in a mirror than teach people true magic. Headmaster of Hogwarts can't see a fake? Do you really believe that? There was a jinx on the DADA position for over a decade, yet, never once did the Headmaster deal with it, nor did he hire anyone who could. In fact, when I offered to investigate, I was told it was nothing but an unsubstantiated rumour."

"And, there was, of course, his decision to entrust of Hagrid with various Hogwarts secrets, knowing full well that it would be so very easy for one of you to ask just the right question at just the right time. He didn't give you that time-turner because of a whim or because he felt you earned it. No. He gave it to you because he knew that you would make use of it far beyond the limitations of the average scholastic overachiever. He may not have realised that we were using it to train together, but, perhaps in the end, it was all for the best, provided, of course, that you would not remember who taught you everything."

Severus wrapped his foreleg around her and snuggled into her. "In fact, I am almost positive that he knew I was teaching you all along— perhaps he even encouraged it, but what he didn't count on was emotion. He never thought I'd—"

"Come to care for me?"

Severus nodded. "That was something he could not fathom: a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. While he may have believed my training of you was beneficial to his plans, he could never admit that it was or even could be anything more. He couldn't have you emotionally attached to me. I was never meant to live to see the end of the war."

"You know, when I first shifted, I carried Minerva on my back over the Dark Forest, flying through the clouds as fast as my wings could carry us," Hermione recalled. "She said something then— she had a student once that was so close to making the shift, but she had no idea what happened to him. She couldn't even remember his name. That was you, wasn't it?"

Severus nodded. "Most likely."

Hermione and Severus were silent, save for the purring rumble of one over-enthusiastic tabby cat.

"Odd, I would have thought she would have remembered something by now, especially after that long-winded supposition we just had." Hermione gave Minerva a quick grooming, causing the tabby to purr even more loudly.

"I think she is just happy to have us on one place," Severus mused. "She had a lot of scent marking to make up for."

Hermione snorted. "I suppose. Well, since Minerva is with us for the long-haul, let's go check out our new place at Gringott's!"

Severus' ears perked forward. "Oh?"

"Bill says he's jealous."

Curiosity rolled off of Severus in waves.

"Interested?"

"Need you even ask?"

Hermione grinned, picked up Minerva in her mouth, delicately placing her on Severus's head and then wrapped her foreleg around her mate.

Crack.

They were gone.

"Lady Riddles," a rather fierce-looking goblin greeted as they appeared on the Apparition point. His eyes grew very wide as he took in Severus as well. "We may have to expand our Apparition point. I had not expected two of you.

"Mrrrowl!" Minerva meowed loudly.

"Three of you, my pardon," the goblin corrected. "I am Bragnok. I am new to this branch, but I have been briefed to tend to the lady sphinx' needs." He smiled, a mouth full of sharp teeth flashing.

Hermione bowed her head, and Severus mirrored it. "Thank you, Bragnok. I am excited to see what you have constructed. I hear from Bill Weasley that it is worthy of serious envy."

Bragnok had a smug smile. "Nothing is too much for our potential resident sphinx, Lady Riddles. They pooled together quite a crew to ensure you had room to thrive. If you will follow me?"

Bragnok shuffled along, carrying tin lantern with him. They passed by a large one-sided glass that separated the main bank and tellers from the private areas and the security staff whose solitary job was to look for abnormal behaviour in the clientel. Thanks to Hermione's technomagery, she had introduced a few interesting security devices to help the goblins protect the vaults, but one of the newest additions was a scanner that detected Dark magic residue.

Dark magic, while not entirely shunned by the goblins, voided all warranties of security. Aurors could come in at any time and take your Dark object, and it someone like Harry Potter broke into your vault and stole your Horcrux, well, the goblins washed their hands of the business. Instead, they focused on the guarding of their less-controversial clients.

There were, however, the highly-secure, high-priced, dragon-guarded vaults in the lower levels where anything went, but no insurance policy in the Wizarding world was going to protect your Dark artifacts. Hermione had encouraged the goblins to create an artificial dragon habitat instead of training them to respond to pain, stating that a dragon protecting its territory and family was far more likely not to fail at it. Charlie Weasley had provided them with a a few pairs of young, mated dragons, taught them how to handle the dragons without pissing them off, and left them to it.

No dragons harmed. No goblins accidentally eaten. It was a winning situation all around. Clients just had to call a day ahead of time when they wanted to visit their vault so the dragons could be moved into the secondary area with a large offering of tasty waterbuck. Most people seemed to agree it was a small price to pay for the extra security of their family jewels, tomes, artifacts, and other such valuables.

What the goblins wanted from Hermione, however, was her services in guarding over some very special vaults. If someone were to get past the riddles of a sphinx, the sphinx could still warn the goblins if they thought something was fishy. Also, if someone was stupid enough to attack a sphinx, all riddles were off, answered or otherwise. Customers who chose to use one of these vaults would be subject to a "enter at your own risk" policy. The purpose of these ultra high-security vaults was to guard your stuff— from all comers.

The goblins dearly wanted Hermione to live there— and for her to be happy to do so. The happier she was, the more effective she would be at guarding for them, and they wanted her services very, very much.

As they descended deep into the caverns below Gringott's, they passed under the glamour-dispelling waterfall. Minerva meowed her annoyance at getting wet, shaking her fur with a highly disgruntled look upon her feline muzzle. Unlike the deep caverns, it seemed as though they were traveling down and then up, climbing a steep rock face into another, spacious cavern tucked away behind yet another waterfall.

Minerva hissed at the goblin, clearly unhappy with this treatment.

Yet, as they passed through the final watery barrier, natural sunlight came streaming down through hidden channels carved into the stone. Waterfalls surrounded the cavern, and floating in the middle was an island unto itself. Crystal clear water rushed down the sides, creating an eerie, glowing mist.

Golden sands spread out as far as one could see, but it was littered with small waterfalls, lakes, and streams. Behind it all rose a giant pyramid— one that would render the pharaohs of old positively green with envy— shining with a brilliant, shimmering and polished smooth finish.

"Whaaaa!" Hermione exclaimed, her ears perked straight up from her mane of hair. Minerva clung to her mane tightly as the sphinx took off, flying towards the floating domain.

Severus looked this way and that, his tail lashing in conflict. Finally, he took off after her, unable to restrain his own intense curiosity.

Hermione was perched on top of a rather impressive carved sphinx, and she tried to mirror the expression with great difficulty. "That's not how our teeth work!" she giggled, bounding down into what was probably the courtyard.

Rows and rows of date palms were scattered about, as water streamed down from the aqueducts into a large pond filled with glimmering, multi-coloured fish. The ceiling was charmed to show the outside sky— a greater version than Hogwarts' Great Hall.

"Mrr!" Minerva meowed. " Mrrrmmrrrow!" she called, listening to her voice bounce back to her. A carved entryway lead into the great pyramid, and Minerva went bounding in first, her meows echoing through the halls and corridors.

"Someone is excited," Severus purred into Hermione's ear, startling her.

"It's so beautiful! It's like the outside!" Her tail was poofed with excitement, and she lashed it back and forth. "We haven't even seen the inside yet."

"Well, we should probably get a move on, before Minerva claims it all for herself," Severus mused.

They padded in through the main corridor, eyes pausing to stare at pedestals with pristine tomes set on top. Shelves were carved into the stone, holding everything from books to baubles. They passed through what would have been the main gallery, and found themselves face-to-face with the guardians to their domicile.

Bast and Anubis sat in front of the door, gazing down on all who would enter. Torches with magical fire lit the braziers at their feet, giving them an sort of lifelike quality. Hermione placed a paw on the door, and the stone gave way, moving aside to allow them passage. She gave Severus an excited wide-eyed look and happily bounded in.

The first thing he noticed as he walked into the living chambers was that the air was fresh. Someone had gone through a lot of work to make the airflow complete perfection. The second thing he noticed was that he had just walked into a living library.

Bookshelves from floor to ceiling surrounded comfortable couches and a large, central fireplace. Smokeless torches lit the room just bright enough to be cozy or to be able to read, but not so bright that was like staring in full sunlight. Sculptures and random interesting objects decorated the walls that weren't covered in shelves, and pedestals displaying various magical artifacts lay on display in crystal-covered cases.

The main room led off into a spacious dining area— large enough for company, but still intimate. Connected to that was a kitchen that would have had his mother thinking she'd died and gone to heaven. Minerva was perched in the window over the sink, sunning herself in the beams of light coming from a window looking out in an indoor garden.

There were rooms on top of rooms. There were reading rooms, laboratory rooms, display rooms, toilets, and bathrooms. There were sunning shelves, garden sprawls, and indoor hot springs. Many rooms were furnished, but many more remained waiting for that special touch.

Minerva found a way up, sending her meows ringing through the stone. Hermione and Severus followed, finding a glorious greenhouse set at the apex of the pyramid, the tip lit like sun to shine down upon the garden below. Even now, there were seedlings growing, and he recognised key potion ingredients as well as a start of a vegetable garden. Fruit trees lined the outer edges, and flowers ringed the trunks.

This place— was a sodding paradise.

Minerva had found a patch of catnip, and was rolling in it, eyes wide and wild and her tail puffed out like a bristle brush. She darted around the garden at full tilt, tackled a sunflower head, and sprung off it to dash around some more.

"Minerva likes it," Hermione beamed.

"And you, wife? What do you think?"

"Do you like it?"

"It's a dream. I more than like it, I love it!"

"If you are here, it's perfect." Hermione purred at him, tail lashing.

"Hrr," Severus purred, rubbing his cheek affectionately against hers.

"Where are the vaults though?" Hermione boggled.

"This way, Lord and Lady of the Riddles," Bragnok said, startling the two sphinxes with how quiet he had been. "I will show you!"

Bragnok led them back downstairs to the main room, just off the entrance. He moved a statue, flipped a switch, and moved the statue back. The fire in the fireplace died down and exposed another door.

"Doors everywhere!" Hermione said excitedly.

Severus harrumphed and followed Bragnok as he opened the door and led them down a sprawling staircase. As they touched the floor of the landing, torches lit up, and vault doors spanned around them in a great circle. All the doors lay open, for now, waiting for the rarest and most priceless of treasures to be hoarded within.

There would be no way someone could access the vaults without stomping down the center of a mated pair of sphinx's domain. Suicide.

"Hah!" Hermione said. "Each vault has a recording device and a pressure plate to tell them when it is being accessed."

Bragnok smiled. "Only the best in these vaults, Lady of the Riddles. Top of the line defenses and traps, but the greatest will be what lies above, should you choose to accept our offer."

Bragnok led them back upstairs. "Once the vaults are filled, they will be closed. Deposits and withdrawals will occur in the upper levels, and only goblins on my hand-picked team will be coming down here to deposit or withdraw items. If anyone comes down here without a specially-trained goblin escort, they are yours to do with as you please, but we ask you to please contact us for cleanup in case there should be— a massacre."

Bragnok scratched his head idly. "If you become suspicious of any of us at any time, you are to riddle us. Those who know better will either know how to answer you or will bow a retreat without attempting. Either way, the vaults remain safe."

"We have planted extensive gardens to supply various produce, however we will supply a weekly order of whatever foods or supplies you so desire. The meat larder, which has a passage through the kitchen, will be fully stocked all the time. Half of your stipend will be deposited into your personal vault each month, and half will be delivered in objects, artifacts, tomes, and the like, depending on what our curse-breakers have found that month. The objects will come as they are found, but the stipend will be regular. We stress to you, however, that should you require anything in regards to food, supplies, furnishings, or decor, to please see us first, as we will do what we can to provide in honour of our agreement— should you choose to accept our offer."

Hermione tapped her claws on the side of her jaw. "And should I have a mate that we had not discussed originally?"

"Lady of Riddles and her chosen mate are both welcome in this agreement. All offspring you may have while you remain here will be provided for and protected just as you shall be. If the space here proves to be insufficient, we will be open to negotiating for larger quarters. We have, however, tried to plan ahead by providing enough space, master quarters, and secondary rooms to accommodate even the most extensive family. We also have a master guest list upstairs which you may add names of those you wish to allow visiting privileges."

"Once the contract is sealed, the vaults will be sealed," Bragnok said. "Keyed to your energy signatures alone. Should the both of you, somehow, become indisposed, the vaults will be sealed until your return. The only time business will be conducted with the vaults is when you are here to see it happen."

Hermione stared dreamily across the garden oasis, eyes fluttering as Severus groomed her ears. "Hrm? Oh. That sounds more than fair. Where do you want me to put my paw."

"Right here, Lady of Riddles," Bragnok chuckled, unfurling a scroll.

Hermione looked it over, eyes taking in the goblin legalese. She let out a soft breath and smashed her paw against the parchment. As she lifted it, a large sphinx paw print emblazoned the parchment. Severus did the same, looking it over before pressing his large paw down on the parchment.

Bragnok bowed to them both. "Welcome home, Lord and Lady of Riddles. We look forward to a long and fruitful partnership."

Hermione grinned from ear-to-ear. "It's like our own floating island paradise!"

Suddenly, Minerva was in her human form, clutching her head. "Island paradise. Island paradise. I remember. I remember!"

"Come, come, Sirius, sit," Albus tutted, gesturing to the nearby seat.

"Ugh, this place smells like cat," Sirius complained, childishly holding his nose.

"Now, now, Sirius," Albus replied. "It's not nice of you to talk about your old professors in such an impolite way."

"You sure this is safe, Albus?" Sirius said, glaring at all the portraits. "So many prying eyes and ears."

"The portraits can't say anything against me while I'm still alive, Sirius," Albus chuckled. "And I don't plan on dying anytime soon. You have the taint?"

"Yeah, mixed it up from mum's old recipe book. Tested it on a rat. It'll look like you're dying for real, but you won't be." Sirius sighed, staring into the fireplace. "Say the incantation, and your body will be dead, for all intents and purposes. Lasts a week, then you'll wake up, right as rain, with no one the wiser."

"Perfect. Are you prepared for your own death through the Veil?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Sirius replied. "But you really shouldn't be trusting Snivellus with anything. I don't care if my father thought he was a swell bloke. He can't be trusted."

"Sirius, Severus is more than useful, and if there are any faults in the boy, it is because you made him that way. You and your little gang of Marauders. There are a few times you went a bit overboard, and almost cost me our little Slytherin ace-in-the-hole."

"You should have just let me have Lily. I could have turned her on to the right path."

"No, Sirius," Albus mused. "She had to be where she was — with Potter. All of it had to happen exactly as it did.

"He was a good mate, Albus. He could have been here with us. Right now. Instead you are relying on that sodding git, Snivellus."

"Do not underestimate the power of affection or guilt, Sirius," Albus replied. "Both, even, can be a powerful directing force."

"Easy for you to say. You don't have to think about him getting his greasy paws on Lily. She deserved better than his sorry arse pining over her."

"Even you have to admit that little stunt you pulled getting Lily there at just the right moment put him precisely where we needed him."

Sirius shook his head. "Brain-fucking Lucius was one thing, Albus, but you had to serve Snivellus up like some prodigal son just so he could introduce him to the right people? The perfect little tool? Get him all properly trained up as a Potions master? Why make him more useful to the Dark Lord?"

"Language, Sirius," Dumbledore admonished. "Just because you go around talking like your mouth is a toilet does not mean you have to spew such foulness here."

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest rather petulantly. "Feh."

"Besides, if Severus wasn't so useful to Tom, he wouldn't even have survived or been given an offer. Your lovely cousin would have murdered him." Albus stroked his beard.

"I look forward to sitting on a sunny beach and sipping mojitos," Sirius said after a while.

"And we shall both be enjoying that little island paradise," Albus said. "Harry will succeed. Tom will be vanquished, and no one has to know that I had saved Tom in the first place. No one has to know you almost murdered your classmate, and you get to 'die' a hero. The Dark Lord will die. Everyone wins."

"You sure that Weasley boy can keep the bushy-haired chit on task?" Sirius asked. "Everything is a cock-up if Harry goes and dies before he's supposed to.

"He'll be fine. I gave him a little help keeping her attention since he can't seem to do it with his own charms."

"What charm?"

"Exactly." Dumbledore popped another sherbert lemon into his mouth. "As long as the Granger girl keeps forgiving Mr Weasley, she will remain friends with them both. Since Harry can't be without his best mate, she must keep forgiving Ronald's peccadilloes. She remains a part of the team and continues to protect Harry. Harry wins."

"I still think you should put a little potion into Snivellus' food," Sirius said. "Give him another kind of torture to pin over another Gryffindor chit. He deserves to writhe in agony."

"No, there must be no distractions," Albus warned. "No emotional connections to the living. We cannot afford him to become emotional over anyone but Lily. Lily is what keeps him working for me. I have Minerva teaching Granger a few things on the side, thinking it just challenges the girl. Had to get her a time-turner for all that extra work."

Sirius tapped his fingers together. "This had better work, Albus. I didn't stay out of Azkaban to fake escaping just to end up in there for real."

"It will work, Sirius. Trust me," Albus said confidently. "By the time this is done, I'll have Obliviated all those that inadvertently contributed to the cause. We'll be enjoying those drinks on your island paradise with no one the wiser."

"At least my family wasn't completely useless. They did leave me that property."

"Only because you were the only one left alive in the family, hrm?"

Sirius shrugged. "They owed me. Besides, it gave us the island and all the non-plottable devices my paranoid father put into it."

"He was right to be paranoid, Sirius."

"Yes, well, not about the right things, now was he?"

A muffled thump broke their conversation.

"Ah, Minerva must be back."

"She can't see us together!"

"Oh, Sirius, relax. Minnervvaaa! Come, sit with us. We have so much to tell you."

There was only the slightest movement of a wand from Albus' sleeve.

"Obliviate."

"This is quite the place," Kingsley said admiringly, sitting down in the comfy chair. "I should have been born a sphinx. Thank you for adding me to the visitor's list. There was some discussion upstairs as to whether I was allowed."

"Sorry about that," Hermione said, passing him some tea and biscuits. "We've only been here a few days, so there are a lot of goblins who haven't realised we've moved in. Bragnok is busy spreading the word. Until now, we were just a rumour."

"Interesting use of ley lines outside," Kingsley said, gesturing to the swirling arching energy that surrounded the island.

Hermione flushed red, "Yes, isn't it?"

Kingsley eyed her suspiciously. "Hermione."

"It wasn't intentional!"

"Your ley line wrangling rarely is."

"What she means is," Severus said, knuckling Hermione on the head with his hand. "It was an unforeseen side-effect of our getting to know the new place."

Hermione flushed an even deeper red.

"We seem to— ahem, create— ley lines when we are very, very happy."

Kingsley's eyes widened. "Severus, there are at least twenty individual ley lines arching around this island right now."

Severus averted his eyes. "Mmmhmm."

Kingsley's jaw dropped. "Well then— that explains the ley line that appeared in the library."

"Here is your contract, Minister Shacklebolt," Bragnok said, unfurling a long parchment that rolled off the table and towards the door.

"Good grief, Bragnok, let me get on my legalese glasses on," Kingsley muttered, pulling out a large pair of strange-looking spectacles and putting them on.

"I assure you everything we discussed is there," Bragnok said, exposing his sharp teeth in a goblin smile.

"I'm sure you did, Bragnok, but I would like to know how that translated into this monstrous document."

Bragnok snorted in amusement. "As you wish."

"So, it's true?" Hermione said. "You're transferring the permanent storage objects here from the DoM vaults?"

Kingsley nodded, pushing up his obnoxious looking glasses. "Aye. No one should be messing with them anyway, and the only ones that will be coming to look at them you already know and have procedures for. This will be the best place for them and you two get to do your work from home."

"You're the best, boss," Hermione gushed.

Kingsley winked. "Don't let it get out. I have a list of potions I would adore having made, Severus. Our regular Potions wizard went and got himself married and moved to the Netherlands."

"The Netherlands?"

"The tulips are apparently quite stunning there."

Severus blinked. "I suppose that will not be a problem, considering you are paying me to."

Kingsley grinned. "I'll have all the supplies you need sent to your stores. How is Minerva?"

"Resting," Severus said, gesturing down the hall. "Healer Faulkner has been visiting regularly to help ease the pain of the spontaneous memory return. Physical contact helps. Hermione and I have taken turns using her as a kitty-shaped sphinx cuddle toy and that seems to be helping enormously."

"We made sure her new chambers leads off into the gardens, that seems to be helping with her recovery," Hermione added.

"Ah, good. That witch deserves some rest after everything she's been through. All of you do, really. I have Potter and Malfoy performing traces and research to see if they can use the spells on the Weasley family to locate Dumbledore and Black— if they are still alive, that is. Part of me doubts it, yet the memories are clearly revealing they intended to seem dead. Even without the outstandingly faked deaths, various manipulations, Dumbledore's blatant abuse of his position, the cover-up of an attempted murder— there is still the matter of unauthorised Obliviation in a non-combat wartime situation. Do you have any idea who the attempted murder victim was?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Me."

Kingsley raised a brow.

"Back in my sixth year, Black lured me to Shrieking Shack to teach me a lesson," Severus explained. "He sent me directly into the path of a raging, homicidal, transformed werewolf."

"Potter saved my life, much to Black's clear disappointment," Severus added, "but just when I thought he and I may have come to a grudging respect for each other, Dumbledore wiped the entire incident under the carpet, claiming that Sirius was just playing a boyish prank, and that any punishment would lead to some inconvenient questions— and Remus couldn't afford those. It wasn't his fault."

Severus shook his head. "I was sworn to total secrecy— lest something unsavory befall me. Implied, of course. Never actually detailed in words."

Hermione frowned and stood up, pacing. She trembled, her face twisting as she tried to digest all of the things she was trying to fathom. Disbelief, anger, frustration, and more radiated off her, and she stormed out of the room in a flurry of wings, fur, and the distinctive musk of sphinx.

Severus sighed. "Every time I think Hermione has come to terms with all the old man did, she finds more things to guilt herself over."

"Guilt? It was hardly her fault," Kingsley commented.

"No, but she blames herself for not noticing and for having believed, even for a little while, that Dumbledore was a shining beacon of light in a sea of darkness. She'll go roll in the sand until she's covered, scrape up against every date palm, eat every blueberry off a bush, and then sulk in the hot springs for a while. Mind you, if I had that back in the day, I would have been far less bitter."

"I think we all would be," Kingsley sighed. "The goblins really went out of their way with this place."

Bragnok, who had been silently waiting for Kingsley to finish reading, chuckled. "We had to, or she might decide to consider other offers."

"She had other offers?" Kingsley said with a blink.

"Only a matter of time. The Americans like to lure talent in from the old country to make themselves seem more traditional."

"Odd, I figured the goblins all teamed together," Kingsley mused, finishing up the document and signing on the bottom with a flourish of his quill.

"European goblins and American goblins have different ways of going about policy," Bragnok said, his lips pulling back in a sneer. "They try to modernise, or so they say, offering up more money by the hour instead of housing and stipend. We believe that you should want to live where you work, but they have 'freedoms' that allow their employees to pick where they want to live. This leads to less investment in the business. It is far less personal."

Bragnok rubbed his chin with his claws. "When Griphook went off on his own and betrayed us, it was most shameful. Shameful because he disgraced his honour over an artifact and destroyed levels of our vaults with his machinations. His greed resulted in a great many killed and injured. But, it was also disgraceful for us because he had been abducted here— our work and our home. There is no telling what tortures twisted his mind before Mr Potter came looking for the Dark object. And we had been using the same dragon conditioning we had used for hundreds of years, never once thinking there might be another way— in hindsight, now that we have realised that feeling like this place is a home must apply to both the goblins and our guardians—many of us have come to realise that we must be open to change, but not so much that we throw away our most important values. That must take time and cannot be purchased and alleviated with increased wages if that means sacrificing those values."

Bragnok shook his head. "We are— slowly changing, but not so fast that we insult our very foundations. And we have learned that not all humans are as close-minded as those we came to know in the past. Our Lady of Riddles has proven this by not only helping to reconstruct what was destroyed but also helping us to protect it. The wizard, Mr Potter, also paid to help rebuild the damage. We did not expect such a display of honour from him. "

"I think we are all learning," Kingsley said. "Learning that some things are worth holding on to, and some things we should throw to the flames. Hopefully, this partnership between the goblins and the Ministry is the start of something better for us both."

Bragnok grimaced, showing his teeth in a goblin-smile. "It will also help to make the Americans green with envy, yes? They would truly be kicking themselves when they realise what they have missed."

"Other than our partnership?"

Bragnok smiled. "We have a mated pair of greater sphinxes, Minister. Every time their passion leads them, a new ley line is brought into existence. That alone is reward enough to make them grovel at our feet. Later, perhaps, when our Lord and Lady of Riddles decide to have sphinxlets of their own— what better place than to take up residence here, the place they have known to take care of them, hrm?"

Severus cleared his throat, feeling a little discomfited by the frank conversation regarding his breeding habits.

Kingsley laughed, clapping Severus on the shoulder. "What are you going to do with all these ley lines, Bragnok?"

"For now, they guard this island— any who attempt to pass through without permission may find their magic stunted or burned away entirely. For a non-sphinx, that could be fatal all on its own." Bragnok nodded his head, musing. "They are almost sentient— they know what our Lord and Lady of Riddles want, who to protect, and who to deny. There could be no better barrier for their domain or our vaults. Perhaps, as we expand, we may ask them to move them around to offer power to certain other areas to strengthen those defenses and wards. I suppose that will depend on how happy our friends remain, yes?"

Severus coughed, flushing a rather fetching shade of dark red.

"My family worked with ley lines before we moved to Britain," Shacklebolt commented. "Sensing them runs in our family. I learned early that you don't go up and hug one if you truly value your magic. Fortunately, I was a child, and it seems they are more forgiving of children. I only lost my magic for a few days— long enough to know that I never wanted it to happen again."

"Perhaps your family has some sphinx in it, Minister," Bragnok said with a toothy smile. "Perhaps, more than they wish to admit."

"Well, I haven't sprouted fangs, wings, and a tail, so—"

"Give it time," Bragnok said. "Perhaps you need only prime the lock with the proper key."

"Goblins— so irritatingly vague," Kingsley glowered.

Bragnok grinned unrepentantly. "Humans, so irritatingly dense."

The both of them laughed together.

"Mrrrow!" Minerva commented, batting Hermione between the eyes with her paw.

Hermione went cross-eyed to stare at the tabby Animagus. "You should be resting."

"Mrrrrrr," Minerva yawned, flopping down between Hermione's pointed ears.

"Oh, so now I'm furniture?"

Minerva purred contentedly.

Hermione slumped into the warm said, purring. "I missed you too, you know. Even when I didn't realise that was why I was missing something."

Minerva purr-rubbed against Hermione's ear.

Hermione used a paw to topple Minerva off her head and pinned her down between her forelegs to give her a good grooming. Minerva purr-wriggled and pawed at Hermione's face with clawless bats.

"Severus and I added you to the permanent list with Bragnok— your chambers here are yours. You can live here and escape to them whenever you wish."

Minerva's eyes grew wide, and she bopped Hermione upside the face with her paw. "Mrrowl!"

"You're welcome," Hermione chuckled, snuggling into the silver tabby mercilessly.

"I'd imagine Hogwarts hardly feels as safe as it once did," Hermione guessed. Not like when I was a student there, back when I thought it was the absolute safest place in the world."

"Here, it's hard to believe that we're actually underground," Hermione mused, staring up at the moving sky. "They really worked very hard to make us feel at home here."

"Mrr," Minerva purred, kneading Hermione's fur between her paws.

Hermione yawned and gently face-rubbed against Minerva, purring softly. "Thanks, Minerva."

"Mrowl?"

"You always know just the right things to say."

Minerva purred and head-bonked into Hermione's chin.

There was really nothing more to say.

(Letters to the editor)

I Had Dumbledore's Baby!

You may think Dumbledore is dead, but you'd be wrong! I had Dumbledore's baby, and it wasn't during the war. You people think, I'm nuts, but I know the truth. I know some of you think he was batting for the other team, but my baby is proof positive that Albus Dumbledore is alive!

Alfreda Enid Glumbustle

Dumbledore Is Dead

I don't care what all you ninnyhammers are yammering on about. Albus Dumbledore is dead. If you think you've been shagging a ghost, them maybe you should check to see if your alcohol-fueled escapades didn't lead you to his brother, Aberforth, instead. Get it on with his little brother the goat-shagger but let the old goat himself rest in peace.

Frederic Two-Swords

P.S. You'll surely find out when you have a kid. Hah!

What Happened to Rita Skeeter?

I'm not sure if any of you have noticed, or maybe you don't even care, but surely someone has observed that there has been a sad lack of exciting tabloid stories in the past few months. Where has the wonderful bringer of truth gone? She alone dared to bring the absolute truth into the light! She alone braved the poo-pooing of the public to expose the real story behind the saviour of the magical world, the Boy-Who-Slew-Voldemort, Harry Potter, the Muggle whore, Hermione Granger, and the unsung hero, Ronald Weasley.

Now, after the fame of the war has passed, we need more people to write the truth! We need Rita Skeeter to tell us what the Ministry is hiding! Is the Wizengamot is open for the public to watch? Impossible. I don't believe it. I want someone to tell us what is really going on. I want to know why that insufferable Scottish bint is heading Hogwarts. I want to know why my son is sharing tables with the children of other houses instead of each house staying to their assigned table. What is this new teamwork policy? Why even have houses to begin with? I didn't groom my child to be the best of the best to simply be one of a team!

Bring back Rita Skeeter so we can get some truth out of the rabble.

Martinius Everett Oxpecker

Harpies are Harpin' on Each Other!

By Marianna Slyboots

Have you seen the Holyhead Harpies play? Neither have we! Ever since the last game in July, the Harpies have been scrambling to find a replacement for their missing chaser, Ginevra Weasley.

An avid Quidditch fan, Randall Bonaventure, caught a picture of Miss Weasley at the U.S. Quidditch Tournament hosted in San Francisco, California. The suspicious picture depicts Miss Weasley in a highly compromising position with a man with platinum blond hair. Unfortunately, the man's face was too blurry for him to be positively identified. However, as you may know, her famous betrothed, Harry Potter, is not a blond.

When reporters stormed the Auror's Office to question Draco Malfoy as to his recent whereabouts and the nature of his relationship with Ms Weasley, his response was anything but accommodating.

"Get the hell out of my office! There are fifteen open missing persons cases, seven of whom are children, and you think that tracking down a grown woman who obviously has other things in mind than marrying Harry Potter, is a our top priority, then you are dead wrong!"

"Is it true that you snogged Miss Weasley at the last Vratsa Vultures game?"

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY OFFICE!"

"Mr Potter! Mr Potter! Is it true that your fiancée thinks you're boring in bed?"

"What the f— GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS OFFICE!"

(moving picture of journalist getting punched squarely in the face)

There you have it, folks! So what do YOU think? Has Ginny Weasley left Harry Potter because he can't get it up? Who is this mysterious blond who has obviously captured the lovely redhead's attention? Has Harry Potter's Auror partner been having an affair with his fiancée?

Only time will tell.

We here at the Prophet will continue to investigate and update this most scandalous breaking news!

Dear Draco,

My son, your reputation has preceded you— in leaps, bounds, and international newspapers. Even here, in the rustic mountains of Switzerland, the latest British news reaches us quite efficiently.

So, before the rumours are revealed to be fact, kindly inform your father as to whether there is any morsel of truth in this rather disturbing tale.

Are you, in fact, in a relationship with a the youngest female member of the Weasel clan? Are you planning on making an honest witch out of her, or are you going to string her along until something better comes along?

Whatever choices you might make, my son, I will warn you now that your mother and I will not tolerate a Malfoy heir being born out of wedlock— even if it is with one such as her. I would ask that you comport yourself as a properly respectable wizard and take steps to ensure that nothing so disgraceful ever occurs within our family.

Our reputation may not be what it once was, but I will not see it tarnished further.

Your mother wishes to know if you wish a silverware set, as it is our traditional wedding gift, and if you would like blue smoke dragon filet for the reception. Why they call it dragon filet, I really don't know. It's not like it actually comes from a dragon. Maybe it just smokes like a dragon. Whatever it it, it's the very finest beef you can get.

Anyway, my son, please enlighten us regarding your relationship status so we can either prepare for the inevitable or put this nonsense to rest. Either is better than wondering if the Prophet actually got something right, for once.

Your father,

Lucius Malfoy

(seal of the House of Malfoy)

(full sized desk-scroll unrolls)

NO!

FUCK NO!

NO! NO! NO!

Never in a million years, father!

So help me Merlin, I would find a way to nullify Severus' marriage and marry Granger first!

NO!

(firewhisky stain on parchment)

In case that wasn't quite clear enough, please let me reiterate: NO!

Dear Draco,

What do you mean Severus' marriage?

Lucius Malfoy

(seal of the House of Malfoy)

Dear Draco,

Do not force me to hire an entire parliament of owls to bombard you with letters.

What do you mean Severus' marriage?

Lucius Malfoy

(seal of the House of Malfoy)

Salutations to Lord and Lady Malfoy. I, Master of Potions, Severus Snape, send greetings.

Dear Lucius,

It has come to my attention that your situation may have changed quite recently. I can say no more at this time other than to ask that if you truly trust me, please Apparate to the Gringott's London Apparition point this Wednesday evening just before the bank closes for the evening. Ask for Bragnok, and inform him that you are coming to visit me at my request.

You may bring Narcissa if you so choose, but I know you may feel understandably suspicious. I can only promise you that I have no intention of bringing harm upon either of you, nor is this some sort of trap. You have my oath as a wizard on that.

There are some very important things that you must know, and there are certain things that must be done before you can know them.

It is… complicated, my friend.

If anyone other than Kingsley or Bragnok comes to meet you, you should immediately Disapparate. I do not think anyone would be so foolish as to break into goblin-owned territory to find you, but those are the only two persons who should meet you. As for why I cannot meet you myself— that will be made clearer once you get here.

Clear as mud.

Yours,

Severus T. Snape

(his seal, the potion master's serpent and the sphinx)

P.S. In case you have any doubt as to who has sent you this, please know that I still vividly recall that horrible drunken love sonnet you sang to me after Narcissa spurned you that first time. I also have pictures of the pink afghan you wrapped Draco in as a baby as well as the day you tried to change his nappy with a dinner napkin. So far, Draco hasn't seen them. Yet.

Severus,

I'll meet you on Wednesday with Narcissa.

Lucius

P.S. You wouldn't dare!

"I'm going to kill him! Again!" Lucius' voice rang out very clearly from down the hall. There was a resounding crash as something fairly heavy hit the wall and shattered.

"That had better not be the antique amphora," Severus quipped. "I could live with that hideous French vase meeting an early demise, however."

"Father's temper was never," Draco commented dryly, "without certain unfortunate casualties."

"Mr Malfoy!" Healer Faulkner's voice rang out in return.

Smack!

Muffled grunting and rustling came shortly after.

"Now, I will have to mend that hand, Mr Malfoy. Now please sit down!"

"That poor man," Hermione whispered, sipping her tea with a rather wide-eyed expression on her face.

"Don't waste your pity on my father," Draco snorted. "He needs the pain to help him work things out."

"I wasn't talking about your father, Draco," Hermione replied.

"Oh, yes," Draco said. "I'm sure the healer would rather be somewhere else at the moment. Anywhere else. I certainly would if I had my father for a patient."

"Had I known he was going to destroy things, I would have created a specially padded room," Severus said with a sigh. "And here I was hoping we would be able to have a nice dinner without such tedious dramatics."

"To be fair, Uncle, he did just find out that you were set up to be murdered, defied death, and had his own brain scrambled from the age of fourteen," Draco mused. "He taught me based on lies he didn't even believe, though he truly thought he did, he questions whether his wife actually loves him, and now he realises he was the key player in getting the Dark Lord to rise to power, his best friend killed, and a disgruntled son he never intended teach how to be an insufferable bigot. Give the man some time, at least, to digest all of that."

Severus sniffed. "Well, at least we have rather spacious guest facilities here."

"That's it! I want to see Minerva! She needs to teach me how to be an Animagus so I can tear that ancient bastard to shreds with my own teeth!"

"Mr Malfoy! Please sit down! Besides, what if your Animagus should happen to be some sort of smaller animal?"

"Then I will take many more smaller and far more agonising bites!"

"Now, all I can imagine is my father as a disgruntled hare," Draco sighed, "or perhaps a peacock. Probably a peacock. They don't even have teeth."

Severus raised a brow. "Then Lucius could simply peck him to death."

"Would serve him right, the sodding bastard," Draco replied. Then he let out a long sigh. "At least Mother is happily, blissfully unconscious and sleeping things off."

"She was— strangely kind," Hermione said with no small amount of wonder.

"Mother always was," Draco confessed. "But it was always buried deep under layers and layers of pureblood propriety. That compulsion, ironically, was thanks to my aunt. At least that is what Healer Faulkner believes. Crazy Auntie Bella apparently couldn't stand for Mother to be like her Muggle-born loving sister, Andromeda."

"We're going to have to get Healer Faulkner a nice gift basket and an all expenses paid holiday after all this," Severus said. "I am inexpressibly glad, Draco, that despite everything, you took after your mother's buried compassion when everything was on the line."

Draco nodded. "Me too. I never thought I'd say that— but I'm glad that I couldn't do it, couldn't just murder someone in cold blood. I'd happily kill him now, though. With so many good reasons for doing so."

"I wouldn't risk your newfound and restored reputation on the old man," Severus said. "If anyone realises the value in how hard a good reputation is to gain and keep, it would be me."

Draco nodded grimly. "I have learned it, just the same."

"Wait for Kingsley to give you the official go, and then you can rain down all over his parade and island paradise with flamboyant abandon," Harry said, scratching his head. "Official-like. If anything, Kingsley has proven he wants things done right and he has our backs as he's doing it."

"What about you, Potter?" Draco asked. "What do you think of all this?"

"Finding out my fiancée ran off and got married to some American Quidditch star after being caught snogging him at a big game? Realising that I might have been charmed into liking her in the first place—" Harry trailed off, suddenly weary. "My biggest hero and person I wanted to be like was grooming me to sacrifice myself— he was there, yeah? In my head when I was almost dead. Even then, he was pushing me towards doing the right thing, whatever he decided that was."

"And Sirius?" Harry groaned. "I'm not even sure I'm safe at Grimmauld Place anymore. If Sirius is alive— Kreacher is still under his command. The house is still his. For all I know, he's been monitoring the place all along. I don't want to scan anything or bring in a team because it could tip him off if he IS watching."

"So you are just living there— pretending that you don't know?"

Harry nodded. "Creepy, let me tell you. Kreacher has to know. He's bound to him by magic to the bloodline. That means—"

"He's been playing you for a fool from the very beginning." Draco shook his head in disgust.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"There has to be a way to get you out of there that doesn't spook them," Draco said.

"Anything that takes me out of there will likely look suspicious, now of all times. Especially with Ron having activated that damned Portkey," Harry said. "There is a good chance we have already given them a fair warning due to that."

Draco narrowed his eyes as another smash came from down the hall.

"Mr Malfoy! That was my favourite stethoscope! Please desist this wanton violence against innocent inanimate objects!"

"Hrm," Severus said.

"What?"

"It amazes me that with all the things magic can do, the healers still prefer to listen to the heart and lungs with the old-fashioned stethoscope," Severus mused. "Some would call it 'Muggle'."

"I'm surprisingly okay with that, now," Draco said. "This and the war really put things in perspective for me."

"Oh?"

"Mhhmm," Draco replied. "We all bleed. Our blood is exactly the same. It supports life— and when we are without, we die." He stared at Severus. "Only some of us die a little more effectively than others."

"Draco, are you saying you wanted me dead?" Severus arched a brow.

"No, Uncle— I'm saying I'm glad you are alive to appreciate my epiphany."

"Hn," Severus replied. "You haven't called me Uncle in a good many years."

"Perhaps, I shouldn't have stopped," Draco said. "You may not be my father's brother in blood, but you have more than been there when and where it matters. Even my father knows that. I had never seen him cry until today— when he saw you."

Severus squared his shoulders. "I can only hope he still feels as endeared once Healer Faulkner has finished removing all the compulsions."

Draco shook his head. "No, Uncle. I think what he felt for you is much like what my mother has been under the surface. She was always a compassionate witch buried in the need to be proper. My father truly cared about you, even buried under all that— everything."

Hermione put a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder. "They can stay until they are ready to face that world out there. Merlin knows we have enough room and more than enough food. And—" Hermione sighed deeply. "An entire family of house-elves, thanks to your parents."

Draco laughed. "They haven't forgotten about S.P.E.W., Hermione, but trust me they mean well giving you a family of them. With this place, you'll need the help— and if you have a family, well, even more so. I'm just glad you finally realised that while some elves were mistreated, most of them are not. Do you know why my father hated Dobby so much?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, you never said."

"Dobby accidentally killed his favourite house-elf— my nanny-elf. His nanny-elf. She'd been with the Malfoy family for a very long time. She knew things about the Malfoys that even my father has forgotten. Dobby was trying to help— his version of help— and he dropped an entire shelf of heavy cauldrons down on top of her."

Draco looked haunted. "No, that's not quite the truth." Draco closed his eyes. "I was playing on the floor, getting into things as usual. Mother knew I was safe with Elbereth— she even had a dignified name, not like the crap they name themselves now. I always was. I was playing there with a head of cabbage, rolling it back and forth to her. Dobby tried to get something off the top shelf, and it all came crashing down on top of me, only it didn't. She protected me with her body, shoving me out of the way with her magic. Father found her, crushed by the pans, the shelf, the— everything. Dobby was beating himself with a ladle, and father knew. He knew it had been Dobby's fault. Father treated him like shite from then on. I was too young, I didn't realise until I was older that it hadn't always been that way."

Draco looked haunted. "Father made him perform the most humiliating tasks, and Dobby lived with it because he knew why things had changed for him. Then one day, Dobby forgot the reason. He forgot Elbereth. He wanted to be free. All the other elves wanted him gone— to them he was a reminder of their greatest shame."

Hermione looked tearful. "Draco, I'm sorry. I never knew."

"Few did," Draco said, patting her hand. "Mother told me when I was older. I found the picture books. There was this picture of Elbereth bringing out this huge cake— enough to feed an extended family of forty. There were only two candles on it. Mum held me in her arms, and father— was smiling. Really smiling. I hadn't seen him smile like that until today, when he saw with his own eyes that Severus was alive."

"That's how you knew it was real," Hermione whispered.

Draco nodded. "I did some really horrible things to you, Hermione. Said horrible things. Stood by as horrible things were done to you, and yet, somehow you forgave me all that. I beg you, please forgive my father— let him get to know you as I did."

Hermione closed her eyes and touched Draco's hand. "He's welcome here for as long as he needs. He and your mother. We will protect him." She looked at Severus, who nodded to her.

A crash came from down the hall as Lucius broke something else. "He's dead, do you hear me? DEAD!"

"Yes, Mr Malfoy, I heard you," Healer Faulkner soothed. "Drink this, please."

Hermione shook her head. "Besides, Kingsley wants us doing our job here and not rampaging around out there. He doesn't want Dumbledore to get wind of us, not even rumours, and that is better done here, deep in the domain of goblins."

"Granger, if I had to work here, I'd be set," Draco snickered. "This place is amazing. If I didn't know we were underground, I'd swear we were floating above the sea like the mythical Atlantis."

"You are on the permanent guest list, Malfoy," Hermione said. "Don't be a stranger."

"No risk of that," Draco laughed and then sobered. "If mum and dad are here too, well, even more reason."

"Hey, what am I, chopped hippogriff?" Harry pouted.

"You're on the list too, you mop-haired git," Hermione snorted, giving him a shove.

Harry smiled, but his face was haunted. "I wasn't sure and all after everything we've discovered. You were sort of forced to be my friend."

Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry. I chose to be your friend— Dumbledore simply made sure I never forgot that choice. Perhaps he had no idea what friendship truly was. I would not have abandoned you to fate."

"You chose to be friends with Ron too," Harry mused, frowning.

"Chalk that one up to simple friendless desperation in my first year," Hermione snorted, causing Harry to laugh.

"You're really okay with it? We're good?" Harry asked rather tentatively.

"We're good, Harry. You were almost a victim too."

Harry smiled broadly. "I'd hate to think I'd gone through all that not dying to lose all of my best mates."

"Yeah, just don't expect me to sit and talk about Quidditch with you every Thursday night," Hermione said with a shudder.

"Awww!"

"No!"

"But it's Quidditch!"

"Yeah, and?"

"Not fair. You can fly without a broom, and you still don't like Quidditch." Harry pouted.

"If anything, flying without a broom only proves to me how silly it is to straddle a stick and chase a small golden flying ball just to encourage your inner suicidal ideations," Hermione reasoned, arching a brow.

"Wouldn't that be the Bludger?" Harry asked.

"No, the Bludger would have homicidal ideations," Draco said.

Harry frowned. "You've been spending way too much time with Hermione."

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione hissed, chasing him out into the garden with a cloud of summoned birds with shiny, sharpened beaks.

"Ahh! Mercy! Mercy!" Harry cried disappearing into the garden.

"Think she'll forgive him before dinner?" Draco asked.

Severus stroked his chin. "He might be having his dinner in the lagoon."

"Right, middle name," Draco mused. "Always worse."

Severus raised a brow. "Indeed."

"Forgive me, madam," Lucius said, bowing his head down as he lightly brought Hermione's hand to his mouth. "Our history has been atrocious, and I fear I have destroyed your guest room."

"Not to worry," Hermione said with a small shrug. "That was just the isolation room for Healer Faulkner. He— predicted your reaction would probably be deeply emotional, and apparently that means breaking things for recovering magical people."

"Come now, Madam Snape," Healer Faulkner scoffed from the garden seating. "You tend to eat your problems. That tends to have a certain amount of messy cleanup as well."

Hermione shook her head. "I'll have you know I have dealt with quite a few problems without taking my teeth to it."

"Or claws?" Faulkner asked.

"Sometimes even both," Hermione said with a wink.

"Hrr," Severus growled, snaking his arm around Hermione's waist and pulling her close.

Hermione squeaked and purred against him. "Hi."

"I fear I must apologise to you as well, Healer Faulkner," Lucius said. "I was not at my best."

"Oh, that punch to my face was quite powerful, Mr Malfoy," Faulkner replied, causing Lucius to tug uncomfortably at his collar.

"I do not make a habit of— slugging healers," Lucius said.

"I should hope not, Mr Malfoy," Faulkner chuckled. "All of us would be too busy staunching the bleeding and resetting our noses instead of healing our patients."

Lucius shifted in embarrassment, much to Faulkner's amusement.

Pop.

"Dinner is ready!" a petite female house-elf announced. "Please make your way to the table!" She popped away again almost instantly, not even waiting for a response.

"You will stay, won't you, Healer Faulkner?" Hermione asked, giving him her best appealing eyes.

Faulkner bowed his head deferentially. "I would be honoured, Madam Snape."

"That's going to take some getting used to," Lucius said, but his expression was of pleasure and wonder rather than disgust.

Severus tilted his head. "I am still adjusting to the influx of previously-lost memories myself," he confessed.

"You seem," Lucius began, searching for words, "very content, Severus. I find I am quite pleased to see it."

Severus shrugged slightly. "I am glad you are here to be pleased, Lucius. Last I saw you— your only concern was the life of your son."

Lucius nodded. "I think you are right, Severus. I think emotion is what Dumbledore cannot fathom the strength of it. He can manipulate it— guide it in a direction, but in the end, it was my desire to protect my son that broke the compulsion just enough to break free. Not completely, but enough."

"It was Hermione's compassion for all people that drove her to help me— despite not remembering our past together," Severus said. "Because of it, many things have since become possible."

"I would prefer it be possible to string that old man up by his toes and have him flogged. I would even be willing to let that Argus Filch do it."

"Now, now, Lucius," Severus purred. "Let's not get over-reactive, hrm?"

"Good— Severus did you ask for Indian tonight?" Lucius said, changing the subject as he tried not to drool.

"I fear that our new house-elf decided on her own what we wanted for dinner, Lucius," Severus mused gesturing at him to find a seat next to Narcissa.

"My compliments," Healer Faulkner praised. "I think you are trying to lure me into permanent service with tandoori prawns."

"Is it working, Healer Faulkner?" Kingsley chuckled from the head of the table.

"You may lose me, Minister," Faulkner chuckled, waving a brightly-coloured prawn at him. "Due to my stomach."

"Isn't that the way," Kingsley sighed. "How are you feeling, Lucius?"

"Positively wrathful, Minister," Lucius said darkly. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, it wasn't your fault. I am still— coming to terms with half of my life being a misdirected lie forced on me for someone else's greater good."

"If I hear the phrase "greater good" one more time, I fear I might go into convulsions, myself," Kingsley said, shaking his head in disgust. "I would, however, recommend that you and Lady Narcissa enjoy the Snape's hospitality for a time. The less our quarry knows is changing, the better."

"Madam Snape has been kind enough to encourage us to do so," Narcissa said with a smile. "I do not think anyone would ever think to look for us deep in the lowermost caverns of Gringott's."

"Had I not seen it for myself, I would be hard pressed to believe as well," Lucius said. "This really is quite the home, my old friend."

"This was not us," Severus said. "It was the goblins."

"Regardless of who built it— they customised this to you. Of this, I have little doubt. I recognise your dream made form, Severus."

"Ironically, this place was not built with me in mind," Severus said with an arched brow. "It was built to essentially seduce Hermione into working for the goblins."

"It worked, apparently," Narcissa said, bowing her head to Hermione. "I would have taken them up on it too."

"Narcissa! All that work into the estate— are you saying I should I build you a pyramid?"

"No, husband," Narcissa said with her chin tilted up. "I'm saying you should have built us a floating island paradise."

"Oh, is that all," Draco muttered, his mouth full of crab curry.

"Draco, for Merlin's sake," Lucius chided. "Have you lost all semblance of manners since becoming an Auror?"

"Hey," Kingsley protested. "Becoming an Auror does not automatically evict one's manners."

"Draco, darling," Narcissa purred. "Please be a dear and tell us what your plans are with the Weasley girl."

Draco sputtered, quickly covering his mouth in an attempt to avoid covering Hermione with bits of curried crab. "Mother!"

Hermione plucked a piece of crab out of her hair. "I take it this discussion has not reached a conclusion yet?"

"I sent you a very strongly-worded 'no-way-in-Hades', father," Draco accused.

"You know your mother, Draco," Lucius replied smoothly. "She questions every truth you've brought to her since you were seven and lied to her about what happened to her lingerie catalogs."

Draco flushed. "Father, this is not the place to talk about matters like that."

"Oh, by all means," Severus said, smirking. "Please continue."

"I have not, nor shall I ever, woo, wed, or otherwise touch the Weaselette, not even with a twelve-foot wand."

"Ah, there you see, my son? Was that really so hard?"

Draco glared at his father and promptly stuffed a potato samosa in his mouth.

Kingsley snickered as he nibbled on a wedge of naan with interest.

"Kingsley, for your service to our family— something you were not obligated to do," Lucius said, "I feel I must tell you that back when I and Narcissa were courting, we once paid a visit to a rather beautiful island that Cygnus and Orion Black kept as their summer holiday estate. At the time, Sirius Black was supposedly an outcast from his family— or perhaps he was, I cannot be sure— but the amount of enchantments on the place were enough to conceal it from Muggles as well as the Wizarding eye."

"Orion Black was convinced that he had to be prepared for anything," Narcissa said. "The only way you could get there was by either having Black blood in your veins so you would be able to Apparate there, a Portkey imbued with Black blood in its making, or to have really random, stupid, luck and somehow manage to fly into it— that last being not terribly likely as it is located in the middle of nowhere. Even the birds seem to have great difficulty getting back to their nests if they happen to stray too far away."

"Now that sounds like a place to start searching," Kingsley said thoughtfully.

"You have to have Black blood to get there?"

"No, I think you have to have Black blood to get past the outer wards— or have a Portkey."

"How does he… I mean, did he, power the wards?"

"I am not really sure," Narcissa said. "My father took us there, and I fear at that time, I was paying more attention to other things than how we got there. However—" Narcissa smiled. "I am a Black as well as a Malfoy, and that gives you my Draco."

All eyes turned to Draco, who had half of a prawn sticking out of his mouth.

"MFFF! WHAT?! Why do you choose now to stare at me!"

Harry clapped Draco on the shoulder and grinned wolfishly. "I think we have some planning to do, partner. After dinner, though. We need to take our time on it, so we do not risk tipping our hand to those who may not be quite as dead as they would prefer us to believe."

Draco looked thoughtful. "Tell me, Potter. You spent time with my cousin in intimate closeness. Did you pick up any habits that we might use against him?"

"Other than his need to shag a new bird of the week?"

Draco shook a curry soaked piece of naan at him. "What kind of birds?"

"I dunno. Blondes mostly. But he also had a thing about long raven tresses blowing in the wind. He was rather crude, actually, I tried not to pay attention."

Minerva, who was actually dining in her human form, had a rather sly look upon her face. "I happen to remember quite well the kind of girls I frequently caught Mr Black with. From the dimples down to their curves. Pity you don't have someone who has a talent for human transfiguration. What an impression you might make upon Mr Black, should you sneak into his notice."

"But, we're men—" Draco muttered. "That won't work."

Severus thwapped Draco upside the head with the palm of his hand (yay Gibbs!) and scowled. "Do pay attention, Draco, and kindly wake up your inner Slytherin. I would hate to think all those years of private tutoring I gave you haven't simply blown out of your ears, boy."

Narcissa grinned at Minerva. "Oh! This could be marvelous fun. I could doll them up properly."

Minerva winked. "I think we have a plan."

"Plan?" Harry boggled. "What plan?"

Lucius shook his head slowly. "It is sad when the penultimate Gryffindor tabby cat is more Slytherin than my own flesh and blood."

"What is this plan?" Draco and Harry yelled together, looking more than a little fearful.

"Harry," Hermione purred, the tip of her rasp-like tongue flicked out over her rather pointed leonine teeth. "You still have all those dresses Ginny left back at your place, yes?"

"Yeah, sure. But what..."

"I think you need to go home and make a big fuss about how Ginny was cheating on you. Have a good, loud rant about it. Pack up all of her dresses, and carry them out of Grimmauld Place, saying you can't even stand to look at the place anymore— now that Sirius and Ginny are long gone. Bring them over here, and then the fun can begin."

Lucius leaned over to Severus, grinning madly. "Oh, I definitely approve of this one, Severus. She's downright Slytherin."

"What is going on?" Harry moaned.

"Oh, Merlin," Draco whispered, his grey eyes wide with horror. "You can't possibly mean—"

"Mean? Mean what? Malfoy!" Harry shook Draco, his green eyes imploring him to start making sense.

"I really hate high heels," Draco groaned, holding his head in his hands.

"How the hell do you walk in these things?" Harry moaned, freezing as his long, sumptuous curls shaded his face.

Minerva thumped him on the stomach. "Stomach in, Potter. Chin up, and walk on the tips of your toes like a lady."

"I am not a lady!"

"You are now," Draco sighed, his voice a disorientingly smooth, feminine voice.

Harry poked Draco in the chest with his finger. "How the hell— oh, Merlin!" Harry wrenched his hand away and flushed brightly as he realised he was poking Draco's now very female breast. "How are you taking this so well?"

"Do not mistake my greater experience in this hellishly uncomfortable situation as "taking it well"," Draco hissed. "Proudfoot took me on a stakeout. I was the bait."

Harry gaped at him. "That's just not right."

"What? It worked. We arrested that idiot who simply couldn't keep it in his pants. Apparently rutting in an alley with some stranger meant more than maintaining a low profile." Draco sniffed, shaking his head, but somehow he made it look feminine and even attractive.

Harry gaped at him and then abruptly turned the other way.

Draco sighed. "Did I ever tell you how Granger and I finally made up?"

Harry perked. "No, I'd just assumed the two of you beat on each other until you felt better."

"Thought she just punched me in the face a few times, yeah?" Draco snorted.

"It was a logical assumption," Harry commented.

"She probably thought so too, but somehow she managed not to," Draco muttered. "She helped smuggle my parents out of Britain," Draco confessed. "They weren't sentenced to Azkaban, but there were a lot of people, Death Eaters included, who really wanted them dead. Hermione dressed them up as Muggles— put them on a train and arranged for some airfare to get them out of Britain. She got them out. She didn't even ask. I'd come groveling."

"Even after all I'd done, I knew that she, of all people, could keep them safe. Father didn't talk to her the entire time. Couldn't meet her eyes. Mum… well, my mum had never met Hermione save that little episode with the Snatchers, and she wasn't really thinking too clearly then. I don't even think Mother realised who she was. Even without her memories of how she had become so strong, she was still strong. She was still powerful. And even with her arm carved up, countless traumas— being tortured on my parents' floor. Even after all that, she stood tall, while my parents stared at the ground and wished they could be like her."

Draco stared out the window. "She stared my father down— gazing into his soul, perhaps. For the first time, my father was ashamed— even without knowing about the spells Dumbledore placed on him. He waited for Hermione to judge him as the scum of the earth. She put them in this house in London at first. Small place. White walls, very Muggle. There were all these pictures with empty spaces, as though there used to be something there. They stayed there for a month while she brought them food and supplies. Then, when she arranged for transportation, she dressed them up and smuggled them out."

"Death Eaters burned the place to the ground— remnants of the war. Burnt that house to cinders just because she put my parents there and someone had found out. Somehow. I think— perhaps father was not used to roughing it without magic. Perhaps, he used some magic in a place where magic did not belong. Whatever the reason, they saw it in the papers while on the train."

"She said nothing. She crumpled the paper in her hands and burnt it to cinders without a sound. As she put them on the plane with instructions on who to meet, she looked at me and said, 'These are your parents. The only ones you'll ever have. As long as you have them, it will not matter where they live only that they do. No one, not even you, Malfoy, deserves to have that taken from you when they risked their lives to ensure your life. Misguided as it may have been, but it was love just the same'."

"I found her that night, after I Apparated back to Britain— sitting in the charred remains of what I had only just then realised had been her family home— completely knackered. I dragged her away, washed her up, got her a bucket, cleaned up the mess, and let her cry. I forced her to eat. I forced her to drink. I let her hit me. I let her scream. I let her— grieve. I realised then, just how much she had lost and how much I had taken from her— not all directly but through shameful inaction. And in that space of tears and physical abuse, which I was used to, as you understand after seeing my father's reaction to treatment— I groveled. She forgave me."

"Her parents had a cottage in Cornwall, and I helped her make it a home again. Ward it up. Rebuild the walls and even introduce ourselves to the local mail carrier. Muggles were her neighbours. Good people. Oblivious, but good people. Viktor came too. We built the place together, expanding it, making a real home. By the time it was done, Hermione had cut all ties with the Weasel— realising he was toxic, but she didn't tell you. She knew you still needed him."

"Kingsley hired her the moment the war was over, but you know Shacklebolt. He gave her all the time she needed, and was rewarded with that kind of loyalty that Hermione is so good at. By the end of it, we had become friends. I grew up, and she— was finally free."

Harry was sniffling horribly, wiping tears from his face. "Damnit! What's with the— I never— ARGH!" Harry sniffled and looked for a tissue.

"Girl hormones," Draco mused. "McGonagall was pretty thorough."

"Agh! Give me someone to punch, so I can earn my testosterone back," Harry sniffled.

"Would you like to build a stone wall with your bare hands, perhaps mow a lawn with nothing but a hand-scythe?" Draco mused. "Sleep in a pile of Quidditch memorabilia while quaffing butterbeer and bathing in Firewhisky?"

"It would make me feel a little less feminine, yes," Harry muttered.

Draco's lips turned up in a smile. "I'll get you a cheese log and beer pretzels in one of those oversized bowls the Muggles like to fill up during rugby games when this is all over."

Harry sighed, "Thanks."

"Hey there, kitten. You looking for a good time?"

Draco turned, batting his eyelashes—impossibly long eyelashes that practically screamed of the talented touch of Narcissa Malfoy.

"Look, Dahlia," Harry cooed, pulling on every memory of the Beauxbatons accents and what Fleur had pitched in at the "Let's turn Draco and Harry into a pair of sexy witches" party. "Ze man taw-king to you."

"Ahh! A French lady," the black-haired wizard purred, bringing Harry's hand to his lips. "Well hello, beautiful."

Harry flushed and fanned himself.

"What brings you lovely ladies to the arse end of nowhere, hrm?"

"Ze travel madam told us— best salt and pepper shrimp on ze coast."

"Aww, kitten. You shouldn't restrict yourself to such sorrowful fare. I know a place where you can have the absolute best coconut-lime shrimp and a stunning mango-peach jalapeno sauce. Family recipe."

"Ha, ha, you sound like you have an island, monsieur," Harry gushed.

The male wizard grinned cheekily. "Maybe I do, kitten. Would you like to join me?"

"Ahhh, we couldn't impose on such a charming gentleman as yourself," Draco cooed.

"We'll have great fun together, lovely ladies. I can guarantee it. You'll never forget the experience, trust me."

Draco smiled sweetly. "How could we possibly turn down such a perfectly delightful invitation?"

"OOooaaaa! What a place!" Harry cried, managing to sound both amazed and struggling for words to express it.

"You haven't seen anything yet, pretty kitten."

"Ahh, Sirius, welcome— oh, hello, ladies," rumbled a somewhat perturbed-looking Dumbledore. His skin was darkly tanned, his long silver hair and beard were intricately braided and he had some sort of drink with a slice of lemon for a garnish in his hand. "My friend, what have we said about bringing home strays, hrm?"

"Oh, stop worrying, Al— Angus," Sirius said, giving him a glare. "These two lovely ladies and I were about to gather ourselves a picnic basket and head off to enjoy the private beach."

"Oh!" said Harry, flushing as he beat his fan across his face. "Iz zis your fa-thair?"

"Fa—" Sirius made a choking sound in the back of his throat. "Why yes, kitten, he is. Sometimes he gets a bit senile and calls me different names each day. Yesterday it was Frank. The day before it was Martijn."

"Pleased to meet you," Draco cooed, tossing his mane of silver-blonde hair just so.

"Mind the wards, Sirius," Dumbledore warned in a low growl.

"Oh, father," Sirius dripped sweetness. You know I haven't forgotten the keys to the house in weeks."

Dumbledore eyed the two beautiful women on Sirius' arms and turned away with a derisive snort. "Far too feminine for my taste," he muttered, wandering off.

"What zid 'ee mean?" Harry asked, batting his eyelashes. "Far too feminine?"

"Oh, you know dad—" Sirius said lightly, trying to redirect the conversation. "He fancies rather... man—ly women. I assure you, when it comes to the ladies, I am fully functional."

"Oh my," both women gasped girlishly, fanning themselves.

Damn that Sirius.

Him and his bloody birds. You didn't see him bringing home blokes to enjoy the sunsets and beaches with.

Still, this island was in the middle of nowhere, and the birds would be Obliviated the instant they left, so their secret would remain safe. He just wished Sirius would get it out of his system and learn to enjoy life a little less riskily.

They hadn't gone through all that work just so he could bring it crashing down, after all. Albus had covered up Sirius' little almost-murders of his classmates— sure they had all been Slytherin students and he had almost succeeded in Severus' case. He had confunded Minerva on multiple occasions so she wouldn't notice various unsavory things going on right under her little feline nose— a most difficult task, indeed. Cats were, well... cats!

Severus' untimely death, however, would not have forwarded the plan. He needed a spy, and the only way his greater good— the final end of Tom Riddle and the erasure of his greatest mistake— would ever come to fruition would be if Severus was there to be his agent on the inside of Tom's inner circle. In order for that to happen, he had to be kept isolated and desperate. He had to make a line of horrible mistakes. Albus had to be seen as his only means to find salvation.

Much to his embarrassment, Albus hadn't realised that Severus had taken on Miss Granger as his apprentice. When he finally came to suspect it, quite some time later, he decided that was a good thing. Granger needed all the training she could get to help keep Harry alive. Then, when he realised that Granger was paying less attention to maintaining her friendship with Harry and Ronald, which she SHOULD have stayed focused on, he gave her a little shove back in the required direction. It had been hard, considering that Ronald Weasley had emotionally tormented her to the point of heading up to throw herself off the Astronomy Tower. A little Obliviate, some memory tweaking, and she was right back on track. Later he improved it more by giving her an inexplicable fascination with the Weasley boy, and he had suggested to Mr Weasley that he should make sure to pat Hermione on the shoulder when he apologised— and all would be well.

Granger had started to shake off the spell, however. Albus had to move quickly to tweak it some more. She could only forgive so much under the old spell, so he had to make it considerably stronger. Finally, he had to anchor his spell to the Weasley bloodline— at least then, with the entire family unwittingly reinforcing the spell, Hermione would continue to forgive and forget— at least when it came to her silly conniptions that Ronald was anything but a perfectly fine bloke. Harry Potter needed Ronald to be his male friend of note. He needed Hermione to keep them both alive. Albus would not allow Granger to reason her way out the Golden Trio, as they had come to be known.

When he next met with his contact in the Hall of Mastery for lunch, the man had let it slip that he was so proud that Dumbledore had such a talented young master scholar at Hogwarts. Ms Granger had— obtained her mastery under Severus Snape. Albus had cooed and agreed, nodding his head as if he had seen it all along, and then he had gone back to Hogwarts and started to pay attention to all the little things that spoke of a deeper relationship between his spy and Ms Granger. Small glances, little touches, the softening of expressions in a man whose expressions ranged from terse to disdain and downright surly— Albus realised that this new Master Granger had thawed Snape's heart and given him hope for a future. A future with her.

And that would not do at all.

He let her keep her relationship with Minerva— she was at least a proper Gryffindor. It was a respectable mentorship. But Severus, no. Absolutely not. That simply had to go. True, the things she learned— all of that would help with keeping Potter safe, and that was fine. She could keep those memories, but Snape— no. He would never tolerate her meddling with his spy.

Snape had to have nothing to lose. He had to have nothing to live for. He had to remain free of all attachments so he would willingly sacrifice his life for his master's cause.

So he had called Miss Granger to his office and hit her with a powerful Obliviate— but she had fought it. She had been ready for it. She struggled. And her master had come up by his own invitation, only to find her writhing on the floor of his office, fighting the Obliviate tooth and claw, with everything she had.

To add to the guilt, Snape had to suppress her memories to save her from the struggle. He had been the hand of her amnesia. It was perfect. Then— as he cradled his mind-wiped apprentice in his arms— Albus had Obliviated Snape. Neither remembered each other. Everything was then restored to where it needed to be.

And it had worked.

Albus had been "murdered." Snape had died giving his final message to Harry Potter. Potter had realised he had to die to defeat Tom— die and come back again. Albus had worked hard on that little mental hallucination that would be triggered at his near-death. And Granger had kept him and the Weasley boy alive the entire time.

Rumour said she had worked at the Ministry for awhile, but had gotten disgruntled with the way things were run. None of his contacts had seen her there in quite some time. She had apparently disappeared off into the ether. Oh well, her purpose was served and done. Harry had become a hero. Weasley had been seen enjoying his time in spotlight, indulging in the Knockturn Alley nightlife in the company of several nubile young witches. No one knew that Albus was alive. Whatever they may have thought of him, good or bad, he was safe in his retirement, and Sirius was safely out of Azkaban and staying that way— especially since Harry had been kind enough to seek a posthumous pardon for his "innocent godfather." True, he had arranged for Snape to be pardoned and herofied as well, but at least Snape was dead and wouldn't get to enjoy it.

With Kreacher bringing them plenty of food and drink every week and taking care of the place, they wanted for nothing. They could live off the radar forever— if only Sirius would stop bringing those sodding birds home!

He never could resist those long-haired, long-legged blondes and those sultry beauties with lush raven curls. They didn't make for acceptable eye-candy for Albus, but he hadn't even thought about indulging in a romantic relationship for quite some time.

Now, the only thing left was locating the cache of magical artifacts he had left with Ronald Weasley to sell off and filter back into his purely Muggle Swiss bank account. What he had was enough for the moment, but he had lost his Hogwarts pension due to being "dead."

According to the talk in the Headmistress' office, they had used the funds to help rebuild Hogwarts and renamed the new communal common room after him. What a waste of perfectly good galleons. In hindsight, he should have had it willed to one of his hidden charities, but he supposed he would take a day off and find the cache now that Mr Weasley was in Mungo's. He had put a tracer on them, and last he had checked, they had been at Gringott's. Weasley probably had them on him when he attempted to use the Portkey and accidentally triggered the defensive Obliviate.

According to Kreacher, Harry had no leads and the investigation had stalled completely. And dear Ginevra had apparently left him, making for a very angry and distracted young man. That was simply perfect as far as he was concerned. Give it few more months, and no one would even remember the incident in favour of more important matters than further investigating the alleged criminal activities of a now-amnesiac Ronald Bilius Weasley.

"Oh, See-ree-us," came a bell-like feminine cry. "Mon-sewer, I do not like to be tied down!"

Dumbledore sighed. Maybe he should go to the other side of the island to admire the frigatebirds, before Sirius got out the fuzzy handcuffs and canoe paddles.

"Aw, come back, kitten," Sirius pleaded. "It'll be much better with the three of us, I promise!"

Dumbledore stood up. "Definitely time to make myself scarce."

"What's the hurry, professor?" a lovely feminine voice greeted from the doorway. "We'd just brought out the silk rope." The raven-haired woman brushed her curls away from her face with one hand. Her other hand pointed a wand directly between his eyes.

"You'll be happy to know that I survived the war, Professor," Harry said, giving a dainty shrug. However, you probably didn't really care, yeah? Just as long as Tom Riddle died in the final battle."

Harry stared into Dumbledore's shocked blue eyes. "Professor McGonagall said you were supposedly quite fond of me, but if I ever needed to talk— she would be there. I pushed them all away, thinking no one understood me nearly as well as you did. I. Trusted. You. I. BELIEVED in you. But you just used me as a tool to fix the horrible mistake that you made, a gross error in judgment that ended up costing so many innocent lives. And since you were dead, well, you'd paid in full for that mistake, yeah? Only you didn't. You're still standing here. My godfather is out there very much alive. And all I want to ask you is why."

"Harry—"

"But I won't, because nothing you will say will ever be the truth, will it, Professor?" Harry said.

Dumbledore turned suddenly, making a dash for the opposite door.

Thump!

The paralysed, bound, and half-nude body of Sirius Black landed right in front of him. A dour-looking, blonde witch pointed her wand at Dumbledore. "In a bit of a hurry, Headmaster?"

"Langlock."

"Stupefy."

"Petrificus Totalis."

"Incarcerous."

As Dumbledore fell back, stunned, petrified and bound in magical cords, Draco pulled out something from his purse and tapped it with his wand and enlarging it.

SPLAT!

A lemon meringue pie slid down a petrified Dumbledore's face. Draco stared down at him. "You are under arrest, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence against you before the Wizengamot."

Harry stared at Draco, one eyebrow twitching.

"What?" Draco stared back at him unrepentantly. "There's a tranquiliser in it."

Harry's eyebrow continued to twitch. "Let's get them out of here." He pulled out a stone from his pocket and threw it on the ground. He lifted his book and brought his foot down, smashing it, and a series of complex arithmantic spells came gushing forth and created a supernova of magic that blasted outward, ripping apart the island's wards like peeling the layers of an onion. Glowing wards flowed out behind the dispelling magic, slamming into place with a searing release of magic.

Shing!

SHING!

Shingggggg!

Auror after Auror Apparated in, immediately seizing control and locking down the area with practiced precision.

"Potter, Malfoy," Savage greeted, making hand signals for the teams to spread out and secure each area, grid by grid. "Good work. Simmons. Aenders. Escort these two to lockup. Strip them down to their skivvies. I don't want a wand or some other magical device turning up to bite us in the arse later."

"Yes, sir!" the Aurors chimed.

"The rest of you," Savage barked. "Tear this place apart. I want it all in stasis and in the vaults as of yesterday!"

"Yes, sir!"

A few wizards drew out strangely Muggle-looking devices, using their wands to guide them in the air as they took pictures of everything.

Flash.

Flash. Flash.

FLASH!

An Auror with a regular Wizarding camera took a picture of the room— including that of Draco and Harry as women.

"You come back here with that camera, Stevens!" Harry hissed, storming off in his high heels.

"Not on your life, Potter! This is going up in the break room!"

"Fuck!"

"Language, Potter!"

"I'm going to impale you with my antlers!"

There was the sound of a stag bleating and crashing noises shortly after.

Draco looked into the next room and sighed. "Someone get the crowbar. Potter got himself stuck in a wall again."

"Hey, Malfoy, why don't you seem to care that we have pictures of you as a woman?"

Draco grinned evilly. "Because I make it look natural." He tossed his blonde hair just so, smiling so brightly that even his teeth sparkled, and every man in the room practically fell over themselves or dropped whatever they were holding at the time.

Albus Dumbledore, dressed in nothing but a drab grey pair of pants, shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of one exceedingly teed-off silver tabby. She perched on the nearby solitary desk that normally had an Auror watching him very closely at all times.

"Minerva, what a relief to see you," Albus sighed. "I had meant to send you word, but things kept getting in the way. Sirius required such constant care to stay out of trouble—"

The silver tabby made a hissing sound, teeth bared.

"Surely, you can understand, Minerva," he continued. "Things had to play out just right or Tom would have won."

The silver tabby lay its head down and stared narrowly at him.

"Lay off it, Albus, they know," Sirius grunted from the next cell over. "They know."

"Sirius, they couldn't possible know the real reason," Albus insisted. "As I was trying to tell Minerva—"

"That you spent years covering up for the fact that I almost murdered a fellow student via werewolf? All so you could get that nice little spell to fake your death from my mum's old grimoire? That you found it that night I tested it on poor Slytherin Rossa as my ultimate prank? You never could watch something so useful simply pass you by."

Sirius snorted. "Best thing was they buried her, thinking she was dead. Served her right for spurning me. But instead of someone finding out about my little prank, somehow no one ever found out. Suddenly, I was being protected at the school, no matter what I did. Don't think I didn't notice this, Albus. While you were using me, I was happily cashing in."

"Don't think I wasn't wise to that," Albus said.

"Yet you continued to let it happen."

"For the greater good, my boy. It had to be done."

"Psh, I'm sure catnip-breath over there will understand that being Obliviated every single time she tried to help Snivellus will go over really well. Why, you lounged on an island paradise all this time and somehow didn't have 'time' to so much as send her a bloody postcard."

"Sirius, I don't really think it's wise for you—"

"What, Albus? They already know. She obviously already knows. Look at that angry look. The look of feline death in her eyes. We're sitting here in a holding cell, almost in our sodding starkers, and you think they haven't figured it out?"

"They need evidence, Sirius, and they aren't going to get any. The spell doesn't even exist as far as they know, and the only way they'd know is if you can't keep your mouth shut."

"I don't even know where you hid that damn grimoire, Albus." Sirius made a disgusted sound. "I couldn't tell someone if I wanted to."

"Good," Albus replied. "One less thing you can blab."

Sirius scoffed and rolled over on his cot.

The door clanked, and the two prisoners hushed. An Auror walked in with a large mug of coffee and a sandwich. "Oh, there you are Broomstick," he cooed. "Watching our prisoners for us?"

The silver tabby stood up and purred, rubbing up against his hand and swishing its tail.

"Ah, there's a good old man," he said with a grin. "Your lunch is in the other room, Broomie. Off ya go."

"Mrowl!" the cat said, jumping down off the desk and padding out the door, tail waving behind him.

"Good one, Albus."

"Shut it, Sirius."

"Both of you just shut it," the Auror said, eating his sandwich.

Broomstick the tabby jumped up onto the counter in the next room as Kingsley, Auror Savage, and handful of officials watched from behind the one-way glass that had been charmed to look like an ordinary stone wall.

"Good job there, Broomstick," Savage praised, taking the listening device off of his collar. "What do you think, gentleman?"

The officials nodded amongst each other. "We need to find that grimoire."

"Lights out, Gamion," Auror Stevens yawned. "Put those two in stasis and call it a night."

"Yes, sir," Stevens said, tracing a complex rune on the panel nearby. "Goodnight, you two bellyachers," he said as he stood up to leave. "Your Wizengamot trial will be on Friday. It'll be good riddance to bad rubbish." He engaged the stasis spell, brought up the monitoring wards, and closed the door. Soon after, a shimmering blue tertiary field of magic shimmered in place.

The room went dark, save for the soft glow of magic surrounding the two cells. A movement just outside the cells shimmered as a goblin removed his invisibility cloak, his sharp teeth bared fearsomely in what might have been an expression of exultation or displeasure. He pulled out a crystal, tapped it, and a dark purple glow began to emerge from it. The shimmering magic around the cells promptly wavered and faded.

The goblin sneered, pulling a couple objects out of his pocket and placing them between the bars: a small tin of lemon sherbets and an advance copy of next month's Playwizard magazine, the highly-coveted swimsuit issue. He placed them next to the two unconscious wizards' heads and wrinkled his nose in distaste. He tugged a miniature scroll out of his pocket, stuffed it behind Albus' ear, and sniffed, examining his handiwork for a moment.

He withdrew the purple crystal, pocketing it, as the magical wards snapped back in place. Baring his teeth, he pulled out a silver pocket watch, turned the winding pin, and vanished.

Albus landed in a puddle of water, and Sirius landed right on top of him, knocking the breath out of both.

"Merlin, I hope that's water," Sirius groaned.

"Looks like we've been busted out," Albus said unnecessarily.

"Thanks for the update, Albus," Sirius responded, snorting rudely.

"Kindly remove yourself from my person, Sirius," Albus grunted. "I'd rather not spend any more time staring at this sodding puddle than absolutely necessary."

Sirius snorted again and pushed himself off the ground, taking an extra moment to use Albus as a convenient springboard.

"Ah, thank you," Albus sighed. "I've been meaning to see a healer about my back. Feels much better now."

"I didn't bloody well do it for you."

Albus stood up and looked around. "Hrm, if I were to hazard a guess, I would say we are in Gringott's.

Rushing waterfalls roared nearby as a dragonet screeched hungrily, begging for a food offering. The low beat of powerful wings reverberated in the air as a large drake landed nearby and stuffed food into the hungry dragonet's eager mouth before flying away. Only the tunnel was between them and being seen by the dragons— hungry dragons raising dragonets.

"Odd, I don't remember hearing anything about dragons roosting in or under Gringott's," Albus said with a frown. "If this is the dragon guarded level on this map, then we are close to the path to find our things."

"What "things", Albus? They took everything. I doubt they could put an entire bloody island down here." Sirius rubbed his shoulders.

"The evidence they believe will prove our mutual guilt. We take that and any remaining records will be gone. Even if we should face a trial, they won't be able to pin anything on us," Dumbledore said confidently.

"And if they bring out the Veritaserum? What then?"

"You of all people know how to speak in half-truths to get around Veritaserum, Sirius," Albus chided, stroking his beard. "Besides, you have that little bit of Black family magic to protect your mind from any interrogator, no matter how skillful."

Sirius harrumphed and crossed his arms, rubbing his hands down his arms in the chill.

"I do wish our helper had left us some robes along with those Portkeys, though," Albus said. He picked up a rock and wandlessly transfigured it into a set of plum silk robes, drawing them around himself with a sigh of profound relief. Hearing Sirius start to whinge under his breath, Albus picked up another rock and crafted a set of traditional robes for him in a pale lavender with elaborate lace cuffs and collar.

"You've got to be joking me," Sirius hissed. "What the fuck is this shite, Albus?"

"Clothes, I believe," Albus answered. "Feel free to walk around in your skivvies in the chill and damp, dear boy."

Sirius glared at him. "These were at the height of fashion at least three hundred years ago, Albus. At least give me something in leather, dammit."

Albus arched a brow and touched the robes with two fingers, transforming the robes into— something made of black patent leather.

"What the hell is this, Albus?" Sirius seethed.

"Something in leather."

"It's a ruddy loincloth!"

"It's leather, just as you requested."

"I swear when we get our spare wands, I'm going to mummify you in hot pink leather, you sadistic old poof."

"Tut, tut," Albus muttered. "We have treasure to find— and a bit of evidence to eradicate."

The trail had them walking ever deeper into the caverns of Gringott's, and by the time they had made their way through the series of perilous dragon-infested zones, neither of them had much energy left for talking, even to nitpick at each other. They had to edge their way along the rails, carefully taking the path the carts would normally take. Neither said much, lest they be distracted and tumble to their deaths in the infinite blackness below.

They found their way through a twisting cavern, guided only by the detail in the map they had been given. By the time the light in the cavern greeted them, they shielded their eyes with a profound sense of relief.

"They did bring a sodding island down here," a wide-eyed Sirius gasped over the roar of the waterfalls.

"Not ours, unfortunately," Albus said. "Pity, it would have made it so much easier to find our things."

Ley energy zinged around the entire island, surrounding the floating island with jagged bolts in rainbow colours. There was only one opening, set between two huge statues of Anubis and the Devourer. The jackal-headed Egyptian god of the Underworld held aloft the feather of Ma'at. The crocodile-headed Devourer stood with maw agape, ready to devour those whose hearts were weighed down by the selfish deeds of a lifetime, making them heavier than the feather. A great archway towered above the two giants— the throne of the mighty Osiris— seating the god whose duty was to oversee the Hall of Final Judgment. Yet, all around them, the ley lines zinged, arced and merged together, almost as though it were the serpent of Chaos Apep— sworn enemy of all that was light and Ma'at.

"What the hell," Sirius said in dazed wonder. "So the goblins value the Egyptian pantheon?"

"You know as much as I do, Sirius," Dumbledore replied.

"How are we ever going to get over there?" Sirius asked, frowning in thought.

"By broom, apparently," Albus said, pointing to a haphazard pile of cast-off brooms.

"Those look about a safe as a rickety rope bridge, Albus."

"Any better ideas, Sirius?"

The two wizards sorted through the meager pickings until each had found himself a broom that stood a reasonable chance of not falling apart halfway to the island.

They were hardly racing-quality brooms, but they did manage to carry the pair across the chasm and through the main gate between the energy walls. The guardian statues leered down upon them as though passing judgment of their own, and they zoomed through the arch quickly lest some other nasty surprise befall them. The brooms started to buck a bit as they got closer, eventually kicking them off. The pair splashed down, cursing, into the water below and were forced to paddle the couple hundred or so meters to the shore.

As the two soaking wet and irritable wizards stuck their brooms in the sand so they could find them again, they stopped to look around. Neither missed the formidable pyramid looming high on the horizon.

"They are keeping our stuff— in a ruddy pyramid?" Sirius muttered. "Don't they realise that the pyramids were robbed?"

"Somehow, I rather doubt if the same ancient architecture went into this one, Sirius," Dumbledore mused.

"Everyone knows that wizards built the pyramids, Albus."

"Yes, well, the Great Pyramid of Giza was some thirty-five hundred years old by the time Hogwarts herself was built."

"And how would you know all this, Albus?" Sirius narrowed his eyes at the older man.

"Oh, back when I was a younger man, I was a typical youth and wanted to solve those wonderful ancient mysteries and become known for bringing the light of knowledge into the world."

"So even as a younger man, you wanted to be the great light bringer to the masses."

"Now, Sirius, what's wrong with being the hero by bringing something good unto the world?"

"When you bring the likes of Tom Riddle into the world and make even my foul parents look like perfectly amiable people!"

Albus frowned. "We all make mistakes, Sirius. You of all people should understand that."

"At least my mistakes didn't run around trying to exterminate most of Great Britain," Sirius groused.

"No, your mistakes only murdered very specific types, didn't it," Albus warned. "Try not to paint yourself as perfectly pristine, Sirius, it doesn't become you."

Sirius snorted, but they continued to walk on together. Despite it all, and all their differences, they were seemingly united on the one front that mattered: their mutual survival. "Let's just get our stuff and get the hell out of here."

"This place looks like a bloody museum," Sirius grumbled, walking past a few statues and plants. As he went by a sitting statue of Anubis, he couldn't resist tweaking one ear.

Crack!

The ear broke off in his hand.

Dumbledore glared at Sirius.

Sirius gestured to the figurine like it had done it on purpose to spite him.

Albus looked around, but nothing in the room seemed to change or sense their intrusion, so he sighed in relief. "Come on, and kindly keep your hands in your pockets, hrm?"

Passing through a garden, they found their way to another door, each door was strangely large, as though something particularly massive had to pass through it. The doors were cracked open, perhaps to allow the breeze through, and they moved into what appeared to be a large living room. Library shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, statues of all kinds adorned the sides, ornate pedestals featured rare magical artifacts, and everything was flawlessly spotless.

The two froze as they walked around one of the larger sculptures to come upon Minerva McGonagall and Lucius Malfoy sitting and enjoying each other's company while having a cup of tea.

"I don't care what you say, Minerva," Lucius drawled. "Slytherin is going to win the Quidditch trophy this year. Gryffindor can't keep it up forever."

"Psh," Minerva scoffed. "After Mr Wilbury and Mr Hutchins both broke their legs crashing into each other from fifty feet up? They are lucky they even get to play next term, thanks to Poppy's efforts on their behalf."

"They will eke out their way to the top, Minerva, even if I have to buy them the best brooms currently on the market to replace the ones they've been using since Draco played seeker for Slytherin.

"Yes!" came a breathy feminine exaltation. "OH YESSSSSS, RIGHT THERE! Ah—AH!—ARRGGHHRRRR!"

There was a leonine roar quickly followed by another more masculine one, as the very walls of the pyramid seemed to sing with magic. Energy crackled in the very air as blue arcs zapped here and there between walls. The air itself seemed to sing jubilantly.

Lucius flushed and stared fixedly into his teacup as if it held all the secrets of the universe.

"Well, Lucius," Minerva said with a wink. "I must say that at least you and Narcissa are somewhat more subdued when reaching the point of boneless bliss."

Lucius flushed a bright red. "My Lady!" he hissed.

"I'm old, not a prude," Minerva answered him with a cheeky wink. "Ah, well. If everyone could create a new ley line like that, we'd be up to our eyeballs in leys by now."

"We almost are," Lucius muttered.

"Here, perhaps," Minerva laughed. "Look at how happy the goblins are," she marveled. "Besides, all the ones here know us, so it's not like they are going to zap the magic out of any of us."

"There is that," Lucius agreed. "Still, I wouldn't want to go hugging one."

Albus gestured for Sirius to silently walk back out the way they had come. As they did so, they stumbled into a large sculpture featuring a collection of obnoxiously cute baby animals, from hippogriffs to kittens, fluffy phoenix chicks and puppies.

"I wouldn't touch that one if I were you," a sing-song feminine voice cautioned. "It has a rather nasty habit of turning people into obnoxiously cute and adorable animals. We haven't figured out how to reverse it just yet."

Ker-ZZZZZZTTT!

"Maah!"

"Yip-yip-yip!"

The statue fell to the floor, breaking in half.

Luna Lovegood frowned down at the broken sculpture. "Well, now we definitely won't be able to reserve it."

The pristine white baby goat kid scrambled to move, and the most adorable black teacup Pomeranian tried to get all of his tiny legs moving at once. They slammed into each other a few times, getting all tangled up. They tried to run away and hide in the nearby room.

"I wouldn't go in that room if I were you," Luna cautioned. "The ley lines like to socialise in there before snapping back into place!"

GRRSSZZZTTTTTTTTTTTZAP!

The white baby goat kid and the black teacup Pomeranian puppy tumbled back out of the room arse-over-teakettle, their bodies smoking slightly as energy continued to arc back-and-forth between them.

ZAP!

"Maaah!"

ZAPZAP!

"Yip-yip! YIP!"

The two lay prostrate on the floor, bodies smoking and sparking with residual ley energy.

"Oh dear," Luna said. "I did try to warn you, you see." She sipped her tea thoughtfully, shaking her head in mild dismay.

A set of giant leonine paws entered the room first from the vaults below. The two very satisfied and smug-looking sphinxes shouldered their way into the room, squeezing their wings in through the doorway that was just large enough to allow them to pass without incident.

"Mmm, Severus. You are a true artist," Hermione purred, and the little energy sphinxlets danced merrily around her body and his before zooming off through the walls around them.

"I try," Severus said smugly, licking his feline teeth. "It helps to have such a lovely and inspirational mate."

Massive paws thumped on the floor just in front of the tiny white pygmy goat kid and the even tinier black teacup Pomeranian pup. Dagger-like claws clicked on the floor as they passed.

"Luna!" Hermione joyfully greeted her friend, tackling and mock-mauling the blonde witch to the ground with a loud thump.

"Hello, Hermione!" Luna said, hugging one large leg in greeting. "You had some unexpected guests a bit earlier, and I tried to warn them not to touch the cute sculpture I brought over for you to guard, but they, erm, had a bit of an unfortunate accident."

Severus plucked the miniscule teacup Pomeranian up between two claws and stared at it, his almond-shaped eyes narrowing down his distinctive aquiline nose. The little pup piddled on the spot, dripping urine down his legs and tail as he whimpered in terror.

"Oh, very attractive," he said, his lip curling in disgust.

"I think that one was Sirius Black," Luna supplied helpfully. "I only saw him a few times, you see, so I can't really be sure. Still, he apparently came here with Headmaster Dumbledore." She pointed to the white baby goat. "At least they were until they touched the sculpture."

"Wait, this is—" Severus growled, carefully sniffing the urine-soaked puppy. The puppy promptly piddled itself again. "Why then does he have no magical signature?"

Luna pointed to the next room— a seemingly normal gallery of art with a few notable glowing ley lines that had apparently taken up residence within.

"Both of them?" Hermione asked, plucking the trembling baby goat up between her large talons. The little animal bleated pitifully in terror and did the same as his canine friend: piddled on the spot.

Pop!

Pop!

Two house-elves materialised with a bucket of lemon-scented water, a mop, and clean white towels. They quickly mopped the floor sprayed down the two little animals, and put what looked like a diaper on them both. They bowed silently and disappeared with a pop.

Minerva and Lucius came over to find out what all the fuss was about.

"Severus," Lucius drawled. "What is that creature in your— paw?"

"Oh, I think you'll be far more interested in the one that is in Hermione's paw, Lucius, my dear old friend." Severus rumbled as he passed Minerva the diapered pup.

"That one is the "late" Sirius Black," he told Minerva with an arched brow.

"And this is the equally not-so-late Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." Hermione plunked the adorable goat kid into Lucius' waiting arms.

Lucius' lips turned up into a vicious, utterly malevolent smile. "Hello there, Albus. I do believe we have a few things to catch up on."

"Mahhh!" the goat bleated.

"Yip!" the Pomeranian barked.

"Minerva, how sharp are your claws, by chance?" Lucius purred.

"Laddie, I'm a cat. They are even sharper than your Slytherin tongue," Minerva answered with a wicked gleam in her eye.

Lucius grinned widely. "My dear Professor McGonagall. Let us do lunch, hrm?"

A few months later…

Mrs Ginny Studworthy opened the door to her large Texas estate, refusing to let the servants do it when it was the only chance she got to go outside and get a breath of fresh air between watching her quintuplet daughters. She picked up a neatly wrapped gift box with several holes poked in it, and she eyed it strangely. A small decorative card was attached.

Dear Ginny,

Congratulations on your recent marriage.

No hard feelings.

Hope you like him.

Harry

Ginny opened the small parcel and found the most adorably tiny puppy-shaped fuzzball of cuteness staring up at her with big silver eyes. His miniscule claws were painted Gryffindor red and he wore a matching bow around his neck like a collar. I tiny gold collar was affixed around his neck

P.s. due to an accident with a magical artifact, he'll never get bigger than this. You may want to puppify your place.

"Hey there, little darlin'." Her husband walked up the path and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Whatcha got there?"

"You remember Harry, the guy I told you about?"

"But of course, darlin'," he replied. "He send you this fella?"

"Yeah, a belated wedding gift."

Bryan stared at the card and chuckled. "Well, he says no hard feelings, so I hope that puts that entire fret of yours to rest now."

"You don't mind?"

"Naw, pups are good for the kids. Teaches 'em some responsibility." He winked. "We'll just get him neutered so he doesn't try to hump our AKC registered beagles and create a litter of mutts. Too dang many of those in the shelters as it is."

"Aww, Bryan, you're the best," Ginny said, giving him a kiss.

"I do try, darlin'."

Meanwhile, the little black Pomeranian shivered in her arms at the very thought of getting neutered.

"Ey there, Aberforth," Hagrid bellowed as he stepped over to the small paddock behind the Hog's Head. "Whatcha got there?"

"Oh, Hagrid, darndest thing," Aberforth said. "Someone sent me a new baby goat. No name, no return address. Just the cutest little thing you ever did see. Note said his mum rejected him and maybe I had a nanny who might look after the little one. I might have to use my horn and hoof polishing spell on him. Take him to a few shows with the Muggles— depends on how he turns out, yeah?"

"He does look pretty cute, Aberforth," Hagrid agreed. "You given any thought to joining us up at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, I heard that old Binns just floated off one day and never came back," Aberforth said with a shrug. "Odd thing for a ghost, yeah? I told Headmaster Flitwick that I'd be glad to, provided I have a place to keep my goats on the grounds. He said he's going to put in a small barn and paddock for 'em if I take the job."

"It's going to be odd not having Perfesser McGonagall around anymore" Hagrid said sadly. "She's just always been there. I think learnin' the truth about yer brother kinda pushed her to go ahead and retire."

"I've known something was seriously wrong with my stupid brother for years, but it was hard to put a finger on exactly what it was— but I never thought he'd go around mass-Obliviating people and putting compulsions on 'em. What a bad business, that. Then again, he apparently put one on me to collect goats until I ended up going broke. At least now I can say no, yeah? How embarrassing. Healers took some other right nasty little compulsions out too. If he wasn't shipped off to that new maximum security prison off in the Bermuda Triangle, I'd be tempted to murder Albus myself."

"Maaah!" the little white kid bleated.

"Cute little fucker, I'll give it that," Aberforth grunted, stroking his beard. "Any idea where that Scottish witch went off and retired to?"

"Nothing," Hagrid said, shaking his shaggy head. "She writes Perfesser Flitwick and some of the others, but she knows I can't write worth a knut. She's 'appy though. I do know that."

"Good woman, that McGonagall," Aberforth said with a smile. "With the Malfoys back as the cream of the Wizarding crop, some pretty good things are happening in old Hogsmeade again. The tavern here is a respectable business again, and that Lucius didn't even bat an eye about helping me renovate the place. We had beers together, yeah? Just like ordinary blokes. That really means something around here."

Hagrid grinned. "Never thought I'd see that, meself."

"Lots of people going in to check themselves at Mungo's. There are even people going who never met my brother in their life, but they don't remember if they did or not, so they go anyway. Poor healers." Aberforth shook his head. "The new wing at Mungo's helps a lot, from what I've heard. All of it is dedicated to that Healer Faulkner fellow and he runs it too. He's the one that helped me with my brother's damnable compulsions."

"Weasleys are still being treated too," Hagrid said with a sigh. "That whole family, except Bill and Charlie, well, they was really messed up. I visited Molly a few times, and she was clinging to this ruddy clock like it was her newborn babe. Arthur says it's going to take some time— lots of it. He's at least pretty level-headed unless certain triggers get him all up in arms. Death Eaters mostly, or rather, anyone he might think could be a Death Eater. He attacked a visiting priest in the wing and tried to wring his neck, he did."

"That's a piss poor way to be rewarded for surviving a war," Aberforth said. "I heard the Ministry sold off all the artifacts they found and took all the funds my brother and that Sirius Black had, pooled it all together and are using it to fund their victims' ongoing treatment at Mungo's. Can't say I don't agree with that. I just hope there is enough to go around. My brother was a damned destructive old bastard."

"Well, oddly enough, Sirius Black still had a few rewards out for his capture— remnants from the old days. Those galleons went to helping the victims too." Hagrid sighed, patting his stomach. "I heard Snape and 'Ermione were also victims of yer brother."

Aberforth frowned. "I met the witch once. She seemed somehow older than her friends. More pain in her than a young thing like her should have had. When I fed them up before they went up to Hogwarts, she looked so desperate, like the food was going to vanish before she could eat her fill. Saw that horrible cut on her arm— still bleeding. It was like she hadn't stopped. She just kept pushing. Kept going. Kept fighting. I wonder— if that was my brother's doing or if she just cared so much."

"Knowing 'Ermione, she's a tough little witch, but she has a big 'eart," Hagrid said. "Your brother just stoked the flames of what was already there inside 'er."

Aberforth shook his head. "Damn pathetic world when kids aren't allowed to be kids, Hagrid. I hope your Flitwick puts things back to rights up there."

"Aw, he'll be good. You'll see," Hagrid replied. "McGonagall did a lot while she was there, and Flitwick will do what he can too. Now that the transference to Flitwick happened, the school recognises him as the rightful Headmaster. No more Dumbledore is the boss. Well, I suppose you're Dumbledore too now. They found the real Headmaster's portrait hidden in an old cupboard of all places. Other one was a fake he was using to spy on everyone and order the other portraits around."

"Figures." Aberforth nodded as the little white goat finally started to suckle from the nanny goat, his little white tail flicking wildly and his eyes half closed in bliss. "Ah, there we go. He'll survive now. Come on in, Hagrid. I'll get ya a sandwich and chips on the house."

The pair walked back into the Hog's Head as the little white goat nursed away in abandon as the mind of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore could only scream from within the hidden prison shackling his mind and body. With every suckle on the nanny, the bars on his cage grew stronger and stronger.

"Maaaah!" he bleated, then he bounced off to romp with the other kids in the paddock.

A few years later…

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, "May I have this dance?"

Hermione raised a brow as Severus gave Harry a very evaluating look. Severus gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and gave Harry her hand, narrowing his eyes as if to say he had better behave himself— or else.

Harry gulped but swept Hermione away and onto the dance floor.

"Aren't you supposed to be dancing with your own wife, Harry?" Hermione chuckled, "instead of me?"

Harry laughed. "Daphne is off getting knackered at the champagne punch bowl with her sister as they make fun of Pansy for getting married to Cormac McLaggen."

Hermione's eyes widened in mock horror. "And Draco?"

"Dancing with his mum," Harry said with a grin. "This is the first really big social event his parents have come to since they first came out of hiding."

"Ah, there he is," Hermione said, seeing the blond waltzing with his mother. "They look so much happier now."

"That was partly your fault," Harry said, swinging her around, "what with saving his parents and all."

Hermione smiled. "Good thing I didn't hold a grudge, considering what we found out."

"Well, after Lucius demonstrated his remarkable ability to Legilimens animals — I knew there was a reason he was so attached to those peacocks of his— in front of the Wizengamot," Harry chuckled. "Punishment and restitution was only a matter of how much more can you punish a puppy and goat kid that can never be changed back."

Hermione cast her gaze to where Molly Weasley was chatting with Fleur, no clock in sight. "First I've seen Molly out in years. I hear she and Fleur are real mother-daughter types now."

"Bit amazing, yeah?" Harry said with a shake of his head.

"Arthur finally came over last month and had a sit down with Severus," Hermione said. "Took him long enough to shake the effects of Dumbledore's brainwashing, but even longer to muster up enough courage to stop in and talk things through."

"You have to admit your husband is pretty intimidating even without showing the other side to his personality."

"The kind and generous lover?" Hermione asked, arching a brow.

Harry flushed red. "The dangerous riddling sphinx side."

"Oh, well, that side is also a kind and generous lover."

"Damnit, Hermione!" Harry turned beetroot red.

"Serves you right for all those times you and Ron could only talk about girls in front of me."

"But you weren't a girl—"

Hermione stared at him.

"You were just one of the guys back then!"

"Who got to listen to you talk about witches like one would appraise the features of a sodding broom, Harry Potter!"

Harry twirled Hermione around and caught her, crushing her to his body. "I'm sorry! You know I'm sorry!"

Hermione chuckled. "Perhaps a little reminder now and then, hrm?"

Harry wilted.

"Buck up, Harry," Hermione said with a smile. "I won't hold a grudge forever."

"For just as long as a sphinx lives— wait, how long do sphinxes live?"

"No one knows— the typical sphinx is pretty long-lived. Greater sphinxes however, supposedly lived through the entire span of Ancient Egypt," Hermione replied. "It behooved them to keep their sphinxes happy to keep their ley lines close, hrm?"

"Luna says the Illuminati keep breeding pairs of sphinxes around the world so the world can keep its ley lines," Harry sighed. "Living in the laps of luxury lest they lose the power of the leys."

"Why all the sighing, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Luna is far more observant than most."

"She's still looking for Crumple-horned Snorkacks!" Harry muttered.

"And you're still looking for the other lost sock," Hermione reasoned. "Both of you don't seem to be succeeding."

Harry closed his eyes. "Yeah. Multiple socks now. Even the kid is losing them."

"How is little James Severus?" Hermione asked.

"A right proper hellion," Harry moaned. "I should have named him Severus James. Maybe then he would think before setting things on fire."

"Poor thing. Think you could do better with sphinxlets?"

"Oh, Merlin, no!" Harry pleaded. "It was bad enough babysitting and having them riddle me to death and try to gnaw on my arm when I didn't understand their baby-riddles!"

"Aww, they love you, Harry."

"To death!"

"That too."

"James has been taping wings to his back and running around on all fours saying he wants to be just like Kingsley and Minerva," Harry sighed. "You really took Kingsley and Minerva by surprise, naming your sphinxlets after them, yeah?"

"Kids need good role models," Hermione said with a smile, "and no one messes with Auntie Minerva and Uncle Kingsley when they are sphinxlet sitting."

"No one messes with Bragnok, either," Harry agreed. "I think he enjoys walking around Gringott's with two mini-sphinxes following him around like a pair of body guards."

"To be fair, Harry," Hermione said. "No one would dare mess with Bragnok, with or without sphinxes."

"True that. You always did defy the natural order of things, Hermione. Before you and Severus, no one thought Animagi could birth— Animagi!"

Hermione shrugged. "Might be a sphinx thing, Harry. Has your son sprouted a set of antlers yet? You did, after all, become a stag, just like your father."

"Naw he just has those little nubs on his head."

"Nubs like baby deer?"

Harry's eyes widened comically. "Oh, Merlin!"

A bright blond boy latched onto Harry's leg. "Dance wiff me!"

"Hello, Scorpius."

"Dance wiff me, Unca, pwease?"

Hermione smiled and bowed, allowing Harry to be commandeered by little Scorpius. She walked back off the dance floor and bowed to Minerva, who was being interrogated, as usual, by Headmaster Flitwick. Aberforth gave her a friendly smile and a nod as she passed by, and— oh dear.

A tiny, miniature goat with polished pearly hooves and horns, scarlet ribbons, and wearing a little tartan blanket stood there at his feet.

Hermione averted her gaze to keep from staring and noticed that a certain raven-black sphinxlet was trying to get at the punch bowl— the alcoholic one.

"Oh no," Hermione said, snatching up her mutant child with one arm. "That is the wrong punch bowl, missy."

"Mum! Mummy! Mum! Mum! Punch!"

"Mmhhmmm," Hermione said, gently tapping her rambunctious little girl on the nose. "You are at the wrong table, Min. The kiddie table is over there by your Auntie Minerva."

"Awwww!" she said, wriggling from nose to tailtip. "But mummy, this one smells lots better!"

Thankful for the glamour on two darlings, she resolved to send Filius a rather luxe care basket as a thank you. Minerva said they would probably get a paw on making the full transition into a human child sometime before they arrived at Hogwarts, but until then, if they were to be seen in public she's rather people think her children just liked to scamper around on all fours and riddle people for fun. From time to time, they did manage to shift in a proper toddler, but like most kids, cubs, or sphinxlet-things, they wanted to do whatever was the most fun. Fully human toddlers were apparently boring. Also, Scorpius and James loved to ride sphinx-back and barrel through the gardens at full tilt, which didn't exactly encourage Min and Kin to enjoy being "boringly human."

James Severus, on the other hand, was apparently growing his own set of antlers, which made Hermione wonder what might've happened had Daphne been an Animagus as well. Maybe it was good not to dwell too much on things like that. Harry had his hands full as it was. James Severus was already quite the hellion, and the only thing that kept him from bossing everyone around was being nipped by Min and Kin on a regular basis, which seemed to keep him in line. Well, at least somewhat. Scorpius, of course, had decided that he wanted to be a sphinx when he grew up, and no one wanted to tell him that you didn't just grow up to be a sphinx.

Draco, however, had agreed to make becoming Animagi a Malfoy family project, and they would learn to do it together when the time was right. Harry accused him of not wanting Harry to have one up on him, but Draco adamantly denied it. Hermione wisely stayed out of it. It was far too amusing to watch anyway.

What Draco didn't know, however, was that Lucius had been privately studying with Minerva, and he had proven to be the best sphinxlet sitter ever— as an absolutely gorgeous white lion. No baby sphinx was going to get the drop on him, and since their wings were far too tiny to get them aloft just yet, he was the perfect size to cuff them as they needed it and carry them off by the scruff whenever they got themselves into trouble. Narcissa had been a little baffled, having been certain that he'd end up as a white peacock, but she had to admit, at least privately during tea parties, that Lucius was rather sexy as quite a fine leonine specimen.

Personally, Hermione was glad her angelic little terrors were not flight-worthy. The last thing she needed was to pry her darlings off the chandeliers or find them flying off over the chasm to "visit" with the Gringott's guests without Bragnok to watch over them. Severus had recommended a good supply of Muggle duct tape to remedy any slight chance of them taking off.

Hermione set her wriggling offspring down at the kiddie table, giving an amused nod to Minerva, who pointed down at Filius, who was still asking her innumerable questions about her life as a retiree. Poor Minerva. Even having retired, she was still the go-to witch for "Why isn't this working?" No wonder the former headmistress had sneaked away when she had.

Min pounced on her brother and growled out, "The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?"

"Time!" Kin whinged.

Min mauled him, playfully chewing on his ears. "Wrong!"

The two chased each other around the table until they were so tired that they couldn't remember why they had been running in the first place. Both sphinxlets perked, a sudden motion catching their eyes. They hunkered down as if to stalk, their little bottoms low to the ground, tails poofed eagerly.

Hermione followed their gaze, and saw a rather tiny, puffy-looking black dog dressed up in little girl finery, all pink silk bows, painted nails, and a blinged out collar. Her offspring instinctively stalked the fancified morsel, seeming to sense exactly where they were located on the food-chain. They crept closer. Closer.

Suddenly, the little dog turned its head and noticed them. He squealed in terror and yipped as he dive for cover between a forest of little legs. Min and Kin sat down on their rumps, clearly frustrated.

"Hermione?"

Hermione looked up to see a very pregnant redhead slowly approaching her. "Ginny?"

"It is you, wow, look at you," Ginny said, awkwardly working her way through the crowd. She held her hand over her swollen belly. "Have you met my daughters?" She pointed to a gaggle of giggling little girls undressing and redressing the little dog.

"These are Gennifer, Grace," Ginny said, stretching her arm out to indicate each girl in turn. "Belinda, Becky, and Gayle."

"Five, Ginny?" Hermione gulped. Sphinx or no, she was perfectly happy with two little bundles of trouble. She didn't want or need an entire litter. She didn't want to test the experiment of sphinxes eating their more annoying offspring.

"And more on the way," Ginny said, clutching her belly. She looked both disappointed and proud at the same time."

"Wow, Ginny," Hermione gaped. "I'd heard you started a family, but I never thought you'd be so— thorough."

"Bryan is so proud of the girls," Ginny said wistfully. "He's been working extra-hard to provide. With so many kids, I can't afford to get that many sitters. His family doesn't have house-elves, and they firmly believe in a nuclear family upbringing of the kids. Fancy way of saying he brings in the money, and I make sure the house doesn't burn down around us all."

Hermione lifted her eyebrows. "You even sound American now."

Ginny clasped her hand over her mouth. "Oh no!" She looked around. "Did you meet our little munchkin? We call him Biscuit. The girls just love to dress him up. I was so glad to hear Harry didn't hold a grudge."

Hermione flashed a smile, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of her dress robes. No need to tell her that her children almost ate their pet. "He's so very fluffy."

"I know, right?" Ginny cooed. "He's such a baby too. He's deathly afraid of cats. Downright terrified of them."

"Well, he is pretty tiny," Hermione commented with an understanding smile.

"I suppose." Ginny shrugged and looked around, spotting Harry dancing with a very beautiful woman… was that the former Slytherin ice queen, Daphne Greengrass?

Harry and Daphne glided off the dance floor, elegantly dressed in a manner that practically oozed of the Malfoy influence. He bowed and stopped to speak with quite a few famous and influential guests as they went, scooping up his young son along the way. The boy protested slightly, having falling in with the pile of other raven-haired children, but all of them made their way towards the two witches.

"Ah, Hermione," Harry greeted again, slyly taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. "Have you met my wife, Daphne?"

"Hello, Lady Potter," Hermione said, giving a polite nod. "I have yet to catch you alone for a chat."

"So many parties, Madam Mistress Snape," Daphne said with a gracious smile, nodding to Hermione in turn. "They are so exhausting! Dances, dinner parties, events, socials. My dear Harry takes me to them all. I fear had I not been used to such things in my family, I would've surely expired by now!"

"Auntie Mia!" James held out his hands and practically leapt into Hermione's arms.

"Oof!" You're getting too big to carry, love," Hermione huffed.

"I want a ride!" James exclaimed.

Harry hushed his excitable son, "Hey now, this is not the place to be galloping around and trying to butter up your aunt for rides, young man."

"Awwww!" James pouted.

"You look quite handsome in those dress robes, James," Hermione said, pausing as she noticed that Daphne and Ginny were staring at each other rather intensely. Hermione looked at Harry, who could only shrug in response.

"You must be Mrs Studworthy. It's been a dog's age," Daphne cooed.

"Daphne," Ginny replied awkwardly. "It's Mrs Potter now, I take it?"

"Lady Potter, technically, but yes," Daphne oozed sweetly.

Hermione felt strong arms wrapping around her waist and smiled, lifting her face to offer Severus a kiss— in public, no less. In front of… multiple witnesses.

"You finally disentangle yourself from the crocodiles, Master Snape?" Daphne asked, bowing her head politely.

"Indeed," Severus rumbled in response.

"I must thank you for that fantastic skin cream," Daphne said. "I will be sharing samples with the ladies in my ladies' club. I'm sure all of them will be ordering within the week."

"Excellent, Lady Potter," Severus purred. "It gladdens me to hear it." He turned his head. "Ah, Mrs Studworthy. I fear I did not recognise you at first. How do you like the Americas?"

Blushing, stuttering and stammering was his only reply.

"Ah, it must be beyond what mere words can describe," Severus commented idly. "Speaking of things beyond mere words, I have received notice that Mr Longbottom has managed to create a plant that is rather good at treating burns and various small wounds. Even better, you do not have to defoliate the plant to gain the sap. He was discussing it in great detail— shortly before he saw me and promptly passed out at Pomona's feet. I'm certain I don't know what that was about," he added with a curl of his lip.

"That sounds marvelous," Daphne said brightly. "I do love herbology."

"I remember that," Severus replied. "Perhaps he will give you a tour of the greenhouses. Apparently, Pomona has recruited him to become her successor here at Hogwarts."

"That sounds marvelous," Daphne smiled. "And you, Master Snape? Do you ever plan to return to Hogwarts?"

Severus tilted his head slightly. "I fear my dance card is quite full, my lady."

Ginny fidgeted during the ensuing formal conversation— so full of that which wasn't being said and didn't need to be, to those in the know. Such conversations and rarified circles had one been her fondest dream, but now that she was married, to an American of all things, the social circles she dreamed of would remain far beyond her reach. Even that which should have been easily within reach, her family, was giving her the cold shoulder thanks to the way she had left: cheating on Harry and running off to get married to an American without bothering to send so much as word of it back home. To top it off, she hadn't thought to visit them during their extended time in hospital either. That had been the final wedge between them. Even George, who tended to tolerate even Ronald, was giving her the silent treatment.

Now, Fleur sat beside her mum, laughing and chatting— Fleur, the French mistress of phlegm — taking Ginny's place as the much-cherished daughter. Her father had just quietly stared at her from across the room for a few moments, then had resolutely turned his back on her, tenderly kissing her mother's cheek.

A frightened yip alerted her just before her kids began squalling and crying simultaneously, fighting over how to dress the dog next, and she excused herself awkwardly, finding herself somewhat relieved for an excuse to leave. Two raven-haired children were staring at her sweet Biscuit, their dark, almond-shaped eyes narrowing slightly as she picked the little dog up and gathered her girls to take them back home.

George let out a blood-curdling scream and fell back into the sand— utterly still as rivers of blood oozed from his shirt.

Two wide-eyed sphinxlets stared down at the crumpled body before them.

"What did you do?" Min cried.

"I didn't do anything!" Kin yelled.

Twin tails twitched as the two reached out with their paws and poked hesitantly at the body.

"You killed him!"

"Did not!"

"Mummy is going to murder us!"

"DADDY is going to murder us!"

The sphinxlets exchanged terrified looks.

"Do you think Bragnok might adopt us when mummy wants us dead?"

"Maybe we can bury him in the sand? Do you think mummy and daddy would notice?"

Both sphinxlets placed their paws on George's bloody corpse.

"RRRARRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHH!" George roared, sitting up straight, grabbing them both and snuggling them mercilessly in his bloodspattered arms.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Lucius calmly sipped his tea as he used Severus' side as a prop and his wing as a shade umbrella. "So you are advocating the falsification of murder, now?"

"Always good to know how your children will react under pressure."

"Bury the body?"

"More Slytherin than Gryffindor, apparently."

"Not Slytherin enough," Lucius countered.

Severus shrugged, grooming his paws with his raspy tongue. "They have to start somewhere. They could have thought to throw his body off the edge of the island."

Lucius snorted, watching the two sphinxlets run for their lives as a still-roaring George merrily chased them across the beach. Then, after a while, it was reversed, and the sphinxlets chased him. Finally, George flopped down in the wet sand and the sphinxlets flopped on top of him, using their raspy tongues to dutifully groom his head and exposed skin.

"Where is your mate, Severus?"

"Hermione is with Kingsley, helping interrogate someone at the Ministry."

"That should be exciting."

"For Kingsley, yes. He always did know how to make full use of a good thing." Severus shook his head.

"So, what you are saying is, Kingsley takes a seat behind the one-way wall, puts said person in a rather shabby-looking cage, sets a tasty sandwich on top of the cage, and unleashes Hermione upon the room?"

"They apparently sing like canaries, or Kingsley tells us."

Lucius chuckled. "And do they ever use you as the cage rattler?"

"Oddly, I don't even have to be a sphinx for that to work."

"Psh, Severus," Lucius laughed. "You are not always the incarnation of fear and intimidation, my friend. Look at Hermione. You give her that look and she pounces and practically herself rubs all over you."

Severus flushed. "That is… different. She's my mate."

"Well she didn't get that way from standing across the room making eyes at you alone, Severus," Lucius mused.

"Do not think that young witches are lining up to throw themselves at me, Lucius," Severus scoffed.

"Hardly," Lucius said. "Hermione would tear them to shreds after giving them the most obscure and ridiculously convoluted riddle in her arsenal."

Severus cracked a smile. "She has such lovely riddles."

Lucius snorted. "You say that in the way others would say "she has nice legs."

Thud.

A sphinxlet had her paws on Lucius' lap. "What's harder to catch the faster you run?" She grinned toothily at him, tail lashing.

Lucius pretended to ponder, rubbing his fingers along his jaw.

Min bounced excitedly, looking like she really wanted to gnaw on his knee.

"Oh no you don't, miscreant!" Lucius said, moving his knee out of range. "Your breath, vile demoness. Begone!"

"Awwww!" Min pouted and rubbed against Lucius, licking him with her raspy tongue.

"AahhgH!" Lucius sputtered, both rubbing her ears and shoving her off at the same time.

"She really adores you," Severus said with a small smile tugging at his lips.

Lucius grunted but smiled. "There was a time when I thought you'd never find someone, Severus. I remember you sitting outside Gryffindor's portrait, refusing to leave until Evans would talk to you— and when she finally did, you were even more heartbroken than before. I saw it as proof how ignorant Muggle-born people were. For a while, even, I think you believed me."

Severus tilted his head. "I still wonder at times if she would be able to embrace what I am— all of what I am. Had I finished what I started, I would have eaten four of her housemates in one night. I'm not sure, even knowing what I was, she could have forgiven that."

"Hermione was correct in that Dumbledore did you one favour in that Obliviation," Lucius said. "He kept that from you, and from you, the Dark Lord."

Severus nodded. "One redeeming result to a flurry of mistakes for his much-vaunted greater good. Do you think, Lucius, that Lily could have ever forgiven me like Hermione does? She makes it seem so easy, forgiveness."

Lucius frowned. "Even if she had, do you think you would trade this life you have with Hermione for a mere maybe with Evans? Let me tell you about Narcissa and why she and Hermione get along. Narcissa forgave me for every horrible thing I did. She truly believed in me, even when I did not. She did not enable, but she seemed to realise that I had to shake certain things off myself, or I would never stand by new ideals strongly enough. I had to rediscover my love for my family to gain the courage to save my wife and son. She forgave me my cowardice. She forgave me when I couldn't even forgive myself. And I think that had Evans lived, she would not have done as Hermione did and helped us out of England. She would have watched us fall under the sins of my own doing. That may not be the answer you seek, Severus, but that is my answer to you."

Severus snorted. "Lily would have been there with a can of petrol and a box of matches."

Lucius frowned at the strange word, petrol.

"Petrol is like fuel for a fire, Lucius," Severus said.

"Ah, that does sound rather like Evans."

Both men chuckled.

"I find that I still hope she was happy with her lot in life," Severus confessed after a time. "Even though her time with Potter was brief and mostly spent on the run, I hope it was somehow enough. I wanted so much more for her, though I had no idea how I might help her find it."

"That is the difference, Severus," Lucius said. "Hermione does not care what life she lives as long as it is spent with you. If that is what she felt with her Potter, then we cannot fault her that. At least, she would have been content in it, if not with how she met her end."

"Misty eyes, I do seek,

Yet in the end, I do not leak."

Severus gave Lucius a rather predatory look.

Lucius stared. "What? No! I am not here to be riddled!"

Severus stood, shaking the sand off his hide and wings. He let out a low, rumbling growl.

Two sphinxlets and one curious George popped their heads out of a bush to watch what might ensue.

"Severus!" Lucius cried, hastily backing up.

"If that you cannot answer me,

Answer me this on the count of three.

What is it that no man ever yet did see,

Which never was,

But always is to be?"

"Nnggggggggh!" Lucius yelped, backpedaling rapidly. He turned into his lion form and fled for his life, Severus in hot pursuit.

The sphinxlets moved their heads back and forth as the chase went on, their tails bristling in excitement.

Suddenly, a blur of tawny gold slammed into the black sphinx, sending him tumbling in the sand. Hermione pinned him on his back, her wings spread wide as she roared in triumph.

"A tissue is the word you seek.

It sops the tears when eyes do leak.

And tomorrow is what men cannot see,

Yet they often grasp as what is to be."

Severus growled lowly, rubbing his head against hers in greeting, giving of a low, rumbling, "Hrrr Hrrrrr Hrrrrrrrgaaaahhh!"

Hermione wriggled out from under him and fled down the beach.

"Catch me, catch me, if you can.

Will you be the one who walked or the one who ran?"

Severus tore after her, kicking up sand as he went.

"I will catch you, slippery mate.

My desire for you does not abate!"

Kin and Min exchanged glances and started to tear off after their parents when two large white paws pinned the two sphinxlets down. "Not this time, my little sphinxlets."

"Awww!" the sphinxlets whinged.

"Why don't you go chase George around awhile, hrm?" Lucius suggested, absently waving his wand towards him.

"Wait, what? What are you— HONK!"

George suddenly found he had become a rather plump and tasty-looking goose.

"HONK!" the goose cried, tearing off down the beach, having seemingly forgotten he had wings. The sphinxlets tore off after him, roaring with gleeful excitement.

Minerva nudged Lucius and handed him a fresh cup of tea. "How long do you think it will take him to realise he has wings or could just swim out into the lagoon?"

Lucius smiled, thanking her for the tea. "Long enough to give Severus and Hermione some much-needed alone time."

Minerva conjured a table and umbrella for them to sit at, which they did.

"I'm sure George will be buttering me up for Animagus lessons soon enough, hoping to become something large and hopefully resilient to sphinx teeth."

"Giant red bear?" Lucius asked.

"Red fox seems too easy," Minerva mused. "Also, they might carry him around by his tail."

"Red squirrel?"

"Ladybug?"

Lucius spit out some of his tea, giving Minerva a look. "Red kangaroo."

"Red panda."

"Red marmoset."

"Red-sided opossum."

"Red wolf?"

"Irish Setter?"

"Red lemur."

"Orangutang?"

"Red deer."

"Oh, wonderful, he could get his horns locked with Potter."

"He could be a ginger-furred crumple-horned snorkack!" Luna contributed, sitting down at the table with a large tin of homemade biscuits.

Minerva and Lucius turned to blink at the young witch.

"Where did you come from?" Lucius asked.

"That's a rather long story," Luna said. "But mum apparently met my father after they both fell into a vat of mint jelly. It seems I came along shortly after that, though there is some debate about whether it was mint jelly or something else entirely. Daddy won't tell me for some reason."

Minerva hastily shoved a cup of tea into Luna's hands.

"Oh, thank you, Minerva!"

The air seemed to almost sing with power as another yet another newborn ley line joined the rest that surrounded the island paradise.

"Oh! How lovely," Luna said happily.

"I know just where we can put that one," Bragnok said approvingly.

"Where the bloody hell did you come from?" Lucius exclaimed.

"Well, that is a rather complicated story," Bragnok said. "Goblin courtship takes years with many offerings of shiny objects and the showing off of the sharpest, most wonderful teeth and prowess in—"

"Have some tea," Lucius said quickly, shoving the cup into Bragnok's hands.

Lucius raised his cup. "To friends, old and new."

"To the future," Minerva added. "Which is looking ever better by the moment."

A loud neigh broke the camaraderie, and a large red and white Shire stallion galloped across the beach with two sphinxlets clinging to his back for dear life.

"Apparently Severus isn't the only one who had a stress-induced Animagus transformation," Minerva mused. "At least he wasn't caught half and half in random order."

"I don't think becoming a giant horse is going to help him much against the sphinxlets," Lucius commented. "If anything, he's going to attract their attentions even more."

"I think he prefers it that way," Luna said lightly. "They heal a part of him that has been empty ever since Fred passed on. He likes how it feels— being needed. Like being a teacher. Like being a friend."

"I'm glad he feels comfortable here," Hermione said as she emerged from the brush with Severus right behind her. "I'm glad our home can be a place for healing."

Severus cleared his throat, giving Hermione a look.

Hermione flushed. "I think you all should know— I think I'm pregnant again."

"Why that's wonderful, dear," Minerva gushed. "How do you know— so soon?"

Hermione flushed even more. "The sphinxlets— the energy ones— they didn't fly away this time. They just lingered around my belly and sang."

"That's so beautiful," Luna sighed happily.

"You're not going to be the next Molly or Ginevra, are you?" Lucius asked a bit suspiciously.

"Oh, for the love of— Merlin, no!" Hermione shuddered. "Three is a perfectly good number to stop at for us. "Now our little angels will have a tie-breaker."

"You could have another set of twins," Lucius ribbed.

"No," Severus said firmly.

"How do you know?"

"I know," Severus growled.

Lucius fanned his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, please don't riddle me, old friend. My brain is quite sun-burnt as it is."

They all laughed together.

"Hey, Bragnok," Minerva called out. "Would you mind teaching us how to play a nice goblin game?"

Bragnok drummed his fingers together. "Hrm, are we wanting a drinking game or a game of skill?"

"Why can't it be both?" Luna asked interestedly.

Bragnok shrugged. "I suppose I could teach you to play dragon poker, but we'll need a miniature cauldron and a few coconuts."

Two sphinxlets suddenly popped out of the nearby bush with coconuts in their mouths. "We haff kokanuts!" they mumbled with their mouths full.

They all laughed as Severus placed down a tiny, miniature silver cauldron.

"Potion master," Severus scoffed. "Really, come on now."

Bragnok pulled out an oversized deck of cards. "Gather round. I shall teach you all dragon poker the way goblins play— when the lights are out and the humans are safely tucked in their beds."

"Yay!" Min and Kin cheered.

George whinnied with exhaustion from nearby and flopped on his side in the sand.

Fwoop!

"Oh! Exciting! May I join?" Kingsley asked as Draco and Harry peered out from behind him. They let go of Kingsley's robes rather guiltily, as if they had side-alonged without permission.

"Us too?" Harry asked sheepishly, as Kingsley eyed them somewhat accusingly.

Minerva waved her wand and expanded the table and added an enormous sun umbrella.

Hermione shook her head as she leaned into Severus' shoulder. "Sit down, everyone. I'm so glad you're here."

Severus wrapped his arm around her shoulder and nuzzled her hair. "And to think, I once thought I was merely a ghost."

Hermione beamed at him and gently pressed her lips to his.

-Fin.

A/N: Big thanks to my lovely betas, The Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01, and the Flyby Commander Shepard. These guys are my inspiration to write no matter how horrible I feel when I wake up.