Sooooo... this happened because a little group of nerds is quite inspiring. And so unbelievably supportive, THANK YOU, ladies!
Niffizzle can read my mind, and only thanks to her this is coherent. I am so thankful for her and her capability to listen to my rambling.

"Severus," Minerva McGonagall chastises her colleague. "You have to stop hiding in the teachers' lounge now, or you'll be late for your first year Potions class!"

Of course, she was right, and technically Severus was back to being her subordinate now. Still, that doesn't stop him from mumbling, "Damn, Minnie, you're always so bitchy when Pomona forgets your catnip!" under his breath. Ignoring the Headmistress' glare, Snape stands, opens the window, and flies away.

It's not as if Severus Snape, Potions Master and Order of Merlin, First Class, uses these recent changes in him as an excuse to slouch around. It wasn't his fault that, instead of letting him die in the Battle of Hogwarts, Filius and Pomona had rescued him from bleeding out by using some rather questionable practises of charms and herbs.

Ever since, he has had the ability to turn into a bat. Which, admittedly, was kind of ironic.

It is a well-kept secret among a certain circle. A circle that most certainly doesn't include any student. In fact, his abilities are a handy instrument to keep the Slytherins under control. Especially the eighth years. Lucky for him, this eldest group of students didn't live in the quarters under the Black Lake anymore. Instead, the new Headmistress had assigned all returning N.E.W.T. students to a tower that hasn't been used for decades. A tower with windows where, were an unassuming student to look out of, they wouldn't be surprised to see a bat fluttering around.

But the most useful aspect of this new control mechanism, Severus contemplates while fluttering towards the outer entrance to the Potions classroom in the dungeons, had been proven throughout the school year as he had observed the dalliances of his godson.

At the beginning of first term, Draco had been withdrawn, lost within himself for most of the day. When nighttime came, he routinely sat in the eighth years' common room, staring into a tumbler of firewhiskey, equally lost.

That was until the insufferable know-it-all had awaken from her own personal hell and taken notice. Hermione Granger, so much was obvious even to Severus, was a force of magic had crackled in her hair like Muggle electricity when she had stormed into the room where Draco sat.

"You are such a waste of talent these days," she accused him without introduction. Her fists pressed into her sides as she stood in front of the brooding Malfoy heir.

The wizard in question looked up, truly flabbergasted at the verbal attack. "Since when do you care?"

"Since I looked into your eyes from a carpet on your drawing room floor." These words came with finality.

Severus knew that night at Malfoy Manor had left deep scars in Draco's mind. His godson had told him so much shortly after the dust had settled.

Draco, seemingly unsure what to do or say, sipped from his tumbler. Finally, his voice strained, he said, "Is that why you spoke at my trial? Because you saw that helpless, vulnerable boy who stood by his aunt while you were tortured?" He was lashing out like he always did when he felt insecure.

"No. Because I saw that you cared." She threw her bushy hair behind her shoulder, appearing to buy herself a few more seconds of time so the power of her emotions didn't consume her. "And really, Malfoy, I care, too." She sat down in an armchair opposite of the blond. "You are an intelligent, talented wizard. It makes me sad to watch you waste it by drifting away from reality in classes."

Draco considered her intensely for a few moments. With a snap if his fingers, a nifty piece of wandless magic Severus proudly recalled teaching him, he conjured a second glass. To his godfather, this gesture signified how much Draco was touched by the witch's gesture.

"Would you like to explain over a drink how much of a failure I am?" A snarky reply was something Severus hadn't heard from the young wizard in a long time. And to witness it now made him feel warm inside his furry chest.

But that also could have been the hunger. Those fireflies looked rather tasty, protein source and all. And so, he took off to hunt.

That conversation Severus witnessed had only been the start. In the following weeks, he saw the two of them in the common room again and again.

Books appeared on the table alongside parchment and quills. Most of the time, they were alone, but sometimes other students joined them in their studying. Draco's grades improved, and he was more aware of his surroundings.

The wake up call in the form of the Golden Girl also re-opened him up to his former Slytherin mates. Theodore Nott, for example. The quiet young man had opted to flee his family home, away from his Azkaban-sentenced father who was traditional in more than one aspect, and was finally free from any pureblood expectation.

Some more weeks passed, and when Miss Granger sat next to Draco, the spaces between them lessened considerably.

First hands touched.

Then lips.

That was when Severus cursed his timing for the visits, uncomfortable with invading his grandson's privacy to that great of an extent. And yet, he still wanted to keep tabs to make sure that Draco did not revert to his old isolated ways. After that incident, Severus tried alternating the time and pattern slightly, but it was to no avail: Draco and Granger seemed to be inseparable and always alone.

Then larger parts of skin touched.

That was when Severus had the eighth years practise brewing the recipe for the contraceptive potion.

As much as he observed his godson's mental state and the rest of his grade while at Hogwarts, whenever Snape visited the house-arrested Malfoy parents, he "forgot" to mention this new "friend" of Draco's, merely describing how much he flourished in his studies and how much he benefited from positive the contact with his peers.

Had a nice lady caught Draco's attention? That question he could truthfully answer with "no". Many things could be said about Hermione Granger, but she was neither particularly nice nor a lady.

She was good for Draco. Just not necessarily in his parents' opinion.

Back inside the castle's walls, particularly in the reclusive tower, the new relationship between Draco and "Hermione", as Draco called her now, was still a secret.

Until young Mister Nott was looking for his Potions book one late evening and stumbled upon a scene that made Severus want to be able to cover his eyes with his wings. He had already closed his eyes, not wanting to see things he rather not ever witness, but then a new voice entered the scene in form of Theo Nott before he could fly away.

Knowing that any… clothlessness would be fixed by now, the bat-ty Potion Master re-opened his eyes.

Instead of panicking, which a Gryffindor would have done, Theodore grinned lewdly at the other two and cocked his head.

Draco scowled, hastily pulling down the witch's skirt. Thank Merlin. As if they had discussed a scenario like this before, Granger stood and started to leave the room almost without blushing. Although not before pressing an embarrassingly sweet kiss on Draco's lips.

"Yes, don't look at me like that, Theo." Granger coughed not very subtly before stepping out of sight, and Draco continued, "I know. I should've told you about Hermione and me. But we wanted to keep this to ourselves. Exploring each other-"

And that was enough teenage drama for one evening! Severus outstretched his wings and took off into the night.

Despite the common room encounter, Miss Granger and Mister Nott never seemed to cross paths directly.

In fact, the latter had never been a man of many words, his heavy Irish accent often difficult to understand, even to Severus, who had years of experience deciphering spluttering students' speech. But Mister Nott's persona was cordial, unusually inviting for what one typically expected of a Slytherin.

"Draco, Theo seems to be such a friendly person, but he never talks to me," Miss Granger said one evening.

"You wouldn't understand him," Draco reasoned.

"Hey, I was told I am the brightest witch of our age!" She playfully punched his shoulder, but he merely raised an eyebrow in that typical, arrogant Malfoy manner.

"So you speak Gaelic?"

She smirked, mirroring him. "In fact, in fourth year, I took a summer course at-"

"Of course you did," Draco interrupted her, chuckling. He pressed his lips to the witch's naked shoulder. Then, he went to push down the blanket that had covered them until now.

Severus firmly closed his eyes and wished to do the same with his ears, but the same early-Spring thunderstorm that had crashed him into Draco's window still pressed him to the glass plane without mercy.

Luckily, the know-it-all convinced Draco to open his History of Magic book so Severus only had to listen to a summary of the Great Inquisition - which was nothing compared to his other option of accidentally seeing them… fornicating.

His godson was such an idiot sometimes. Had he really believed his girlfriend (Severus shuddered at the term but couldn't come up with anything better) would be anything but proficient in the Gaelic language?

Draco's wide-open grey eyes were a testimony to that when Miss Granger casually addressed Theo in his mother's tongue in the next Potions lesson.

Nott was astonished but quickly recuperated and started to laugh. After that, he started talking animatedly her. Severus had no idea what he was talking about for his knowledge about the Gaelic language was limited to the written word. But one thing he knew for certain: Theodore Nott spoke more words to Miss Granger in that Potions lesson than he previously had that entire school year.

Several weeks later, in fact, it was only yesterday, Severus spied… investigated again and found the eighth years having some kind of illustrious gathering.

Purposefully ignoring the alcohol, not-quite-like-tobacco smelling cigarettes, and the gits with names like Potter, Weasley, and Zabini, Severus focused on Draco.

He pouted at his girlfriend, who was sitting on his lap and talking to Theodore. "I'll never understand the two of you. You know that my Gaelic isn't as good as yours, and I can't tell whether you are talking about me or potion recipes."

"Maybe we're talking about how to cook you?"

These words, combined with the mischief in her eyes, made Severus laugh out loud. The resulting noise he produced sounded like a loud screech and alerted the three young adults.

"Did you hear that?" Granger asked, looking towards the window.

"Aye," Theo agreed. "Maybe it was only a creature of the night?"

Draco grinned and laughed. "Probably. It's spying on us!" The comment came as an off-handed joke, but suddenly, Draco's face seemed to freeze.

As if he suddenly remembered something very important.

But the witch on his lap only chuckled. "Then what better to give it to see than two Slytherins and one Gryffindor sitting together, laughing and joking?"

Granger was so right. It filled Severus with a feeling of… comfortableness that he wasn't used to. Or maybe it was just hunger? Either way, it was time to go - or rather, to fly.

After completing the Potions lesson, Severus realises that he really enjoys the changes around him after the war, even if he isn't the kind of person who would openly confesses that. But some things would always stay the same - for example, the loud, lively, and incompetent first years.

However, as he cleans up (read: throws away) the half-melted cauldrons that almost made him wish Seamus Finnigan had continued with Potions, Severus hears a knock on the classroom door. To his surprise, it is his godson, who seemed to oscillate between embarrassed and outraged.

"Professor- Merlin, no, this is a private conversation. Severus. I have a question for you, and I'd appreciate an honest answer."

Severus raises his eyebrows expectantly, secretly enjoying the relative devoutness of the young wizard.

"I was… I was with a very respectable witch yesterday. And when we… exchanged our theories about the impact of whisky among a group of intellectual friends, we noticed a winged creature outside the window."

"Interesting," he goaded him further. "And?"

"And now I want to know if the creature was you, for fuck's sake!"

Internally, Severus chuckles. There is the impatient young man he knows. "Language!"

"Sorry." Draco's apology comes automatically and isn't really heartfelt. "Mother told me about your… disposition. I am merely curious. I mean, the witch and I weren't up to anything untoward. "

"Not yesterday, at least," Severus remarks drily. "Though I suspect she may be the only one within the Golden Trio, Hermione Granger has a common sense of decency."

Probably only due to his pureblood training, Draco manages to keep the illusion of facial control. "Do my parents know?" is the next, somewhat concerned question from the young man.

"Do they need to?" challenges Severus. "Is she expecting or are you intending a proposal?"

"Salazar, no! We haven't discussed anything like that yet, and not-so-coincidentally I assume, we've been taught the contraceptive potion by a master of his subject!" Then, the smugness falters again. "But I intend to tell my parents soon. We're serious, Hermione and I, as paradoxical and improbable as it sounds."

"I didn't tell Lucius or Narcissa," Severus concedes, and Draco's shoulders visibly relax. "That's something you need to do on your own. But if I accidentally see more bedsharing, I may feel obligated to inform the Headmistress." He speaks with godfatherly chastisement and dismisses his protegé with a wave of his hand. Draco smiles, not smirks, and gives him a nod that serves as a thank you between the two of them.

Severus keeps it to himself that he would inform Minerva nonetheless, knowing she wouldn't interfere in the young relationship. But he would do it just to see the expression of wonder in her eyes.