Playing in JKR's sandbox. Just having fun.

Author's Note: I know it's been MONTHS since the last chapter, but a helluva lot of stuff has happened in that time (which has been in my LJ, natch) and kept me from being able to get writing done. However, I'm back, with over 11,800 words of PoH to ask for your forgiveness. :) There should only be a few more chapters after this, to wrap things up and tie off loose ends. Thanks as always to Ladyofthemasque for beta and feedback, and to horserider for feedback. And, of course, thank you to everyone who has stuck with me for so long. I hope I don't let you down. With that, here you go...

Chapter 76- Combustion, part 1 of 2

Minerva McGonagall stood primly on Snape’s doorstep, her lips pressed together in a severe thin line. When she saw Snape’s dishabille, her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. The awkward beat after Snape’s exclamation of surprise saw them both flushing. Their discomfort grew until, in their nervous glancing around, McGonagall noticed the neighbours surreptitiously watching from their front gardens or through their windows.

Keen-eyed housewives, bursting with curiosity about their new-yet-legendary neighbour, had seen the officious-looking witch marching up to Snape’s house. And, when she had refused to concede defeat at a lack of response to her first spate of knocking, but continued to knock again and again in an unwavering rhythm, they couldn’t possibly go back to their chores without seeing the result of such unaccountable stubbornness.

McGonagall cleared her throat and muttered through stiff lips, “Why don’t we go inside and cease making a spectacle for prying eyes?” She tilted her head meaningfully toward the woman nearest them, who was ostensibly sweeping her front walk—for the fourth time.

Snape shot a look at the avid spectators and jerked a nod, backing away, his hands still clutching the doorknob and his trousers. McGonagall crossed the threshold with a brisk step and Snape shut the door behind them.

Once inside the entrance hall, they looked at each other again, only to have Snape spin on his heel, shoulders hunched forward as he furtively did up his fly. McGonagall ducked her head and shaded her eyes, clearing her throat.

Snape attempted to regain his composure before he turned around, steeling himself to deal with McGonagall. Taking a deep breath, he spun again, schooling his expression into one of polite inquiry as he said, “Good morning, Minerva. I must say I’m surprised to see you here.”

McGonagall cut an acid glance at him, retorting, “I’ll wager you are, indeed… And it’s afternoon. It’s nearly two…”

Inclining his head in a gesture of concession, he said, “Good afternoon then. What brings you to my doorstep this fine day?”

Her eyes bugged out as she let out an incredulous huff. “What brings me here? What? You bloody well know what, Severus. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do!”

She glared at him, her hands on her hips, lips pursed, and breathing harshly through her nose. Snape tried to look dignified even though he was half-dressed and sleep-rumpled. Meeting her gaze, he realized that, while her voice sounded angry, that anger was merely an inadequate mask for the hurt evident in her eyes.

Guilt welled up at the knowledge that he had hurt her with his secrecy. Heaving a deep sigh, he gestured toward the door to the living room and said, his voice low and weary, “Please sit.”

McGonagall lifted her chin at a lofty angle and strode into the living room, taking a seat on the couch, her back ramrod straight. Snape followed, but only after pausing to cast a Silencing Charm so his conversation with Minerva—which was sure to become heated at some point—wouldn’t disturb Hermione.

Snape sat in an armchair and met McGonagall’s steely gaze. Attempting a peace offering, he said, “Welcome to my home. It’s much nicer than it used to be, thanks to you.”

McGonagall merely huffed, rolling her eyes at his obvious ploy. She eyed him severely and began drumming her fingers in impatience.

Snape wilted, his body bowing forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his hair tumbling about his face. He lifted his head and looked appealingly at McGonagall. “What can I say, Minerva? You know I couldn’t have shared with you. I’m sorry you’re upset, but I’m not sorry about falling in love with Hermione.”

McGonagall grimaced and twitched her shoulders. Brow furrowed, she burst, “That’s just it! I don’t understand how that could have happened! For mercy’s sake, Severus, you were her teacher; what on earth were you thinking?”

Snape, tired of the repeated slights on his reason and integrity, shot up from his chair and loomed over McGonagall, glowering his frustration as he snapped, “I know that! Don’t you think we tried to fight it? It wasn’t intentional, to be sure. No doubt Albus has filled you in on the whole situation by now; what more do you want from me? I did the best I could…”

His fierce expression crumpled and he whirled toward the hearth, gripping the mantel and bowing his head through his outstretched arms. McGonagall’s heart smote her at the sight of his distress.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Albus and, believe it or not, Miss Weasley both emphasized how you and Miss Granger felt about each other. Miss Weasley also tried to defend you, saying you hadn’t lied to me, not really, just kept secrets.” She sighed deeply and added, “Very shocking secrets.”

Snape turned awed eyes to McGonagall and said, “Ginny said that?” His expression melted into a faint smile of gratitude and he murmured, “Hermione was right. Ginny is a true friend.”

Stung, McGonagall retorted acerbically, “I thought I was your friend, Severus, but now I find that you merely used me.”

McGonagall was not prepared for the blazing eyes Snape pinned her with, nor the way his voice rang out as he said, “That’s not true. I never used you, Minerva. I never thought to have your friendship, but I am grateful I do—did…” His expression softened again and he continued, “The more you offered me sincere friendship, the guiltier I felt about keeping so much from you.”

McGonagall fidgeted in her seat, aware that she was currently getting more honesty from Snape than she apparently ever had.

Snape held her captive with his candid gaze, and said softly, “So which is it, Minerva? Did I have your friendship, or do I?”

McGonagall’s brow furrowed and she squirmed again, cutting a trenchant glare at him before peering uncomfortably around the room. She stopped with a jump and a gasp of shock, her eyes widening as she stared at the object that had so arrested her wandering gaze.

On a table between the two front windows, against the wall, sat the photo of Hermione and Snape in front of the Grangers’ fireplace, recently transplanted into the silver and green frame Hermione had given him with her photo at Christmas.

McGonagall shot to her feet and sprang over to the photo, jabbing her finger at it repeatedly. She blinked rapidly as she croaked, “Where did—how—when was—who took—what is this?”

Snape heaved to his feet and crossed to McGonagall, smiling tenderly at the photo. He picked it up with a loving caress and murmured, “This was at the Grangers’ the night Albus sent us to see the play. Her mother took the photo in their living room.”

“That long ago?” But… you two were dressed like this at Christmas.”

Snape slanted a droll smirk at her and said, “Where do you think we got the idea?” He chuckled, and then his expression changed to a pleading grimace. “Minerva, we had already fallen for each other by then, but the chance we had—on that trip—to actually talk to each other, to get to know one another… By the time we returned to Hogwarts, our hearts were no longer our own, but had completely crossed into each other’s safe-keeping.”

McGonagall’s open mouth closed, but she merely stared at him, taken aback by his poetic declarations. Snape pressed his advantage, gently gripping her arm as he continued.

“We spent all these long months knowing how we felt and what we wanted, and unable to do anything about it—well, publicly…” He faltered a moment, averting his gaze as his cheeks flushed. Then, he took a deep breath and barrelled on.

“Surely I’ve made my honourable intentions plain, haven’t I? As soon as it was viable, I made sure my feelings were beyond question—if not beyond reproach.”

There was a pregnant pause as McGonagall digested his words and he held her gaze in earnest. As one, both turned their attention toward the hallway at the sound of footsteps thumping along the hall above and down the stairs, Hermione’s voice ringing clearly in the silence.

“Severus! Why didn’t you wake me? I know you must have been as tired as I was… I mean, twice!” She giggled, then went on. “At any rate, I do hope your supplies are accessible—I need a contraceptive potion after last night…” Her voice rippled with a suggestive lilt, sultry laughter bubbling up as her statement trailed off.

That laughter died abruptly as she bounced into the room to see McGonagall and Snape gaping at her in horror and mortification.

Hermione froze in the doorway, her eyes wide and mouth open in astonishment to see her former Head of House standing in the living room with her half-dressed fiancé. Not that she was faring much better—in a playful nod to their night together at Christmas, she had donned Snape’s shirt… and nothing else.

After her initial moment of shock, she gripped the front collar with one hand, holding the loosely buttoned shirt together at her throat, her other hand dropping to tug the panels lower against her thighs, hiding her nudity. Her mouth closed with a snap and her face coloured violently as she choked out a weak, “Minerva! What a surprise!”

Snape, who had visibly paled at Hermione’s speech, closed his eyes in pained embarrassment, his face flushing as well.

McGonagall, rather overwhelmed by her former prize pupil’s blatant reference to sexual congress with Snape, compounded by Hermione’s state of undress, found herself sinking into the nearest chair, feeling as if she had been hit with a Jelly Legs Jinx.

Hermione turned to Snape, confusion and query plain in her eyes. When he met her gaze, he grimaced in weary resignation, murmuring, “Why don’t you take a moment to get more presentable, love? I daresay Minerva will be here when you get back.”

Hermione jerked a nod and clutched at the shirt again as she edged backward, thundering up the stairs once she was out of sight.

Snape heaved a sigh as he crossed to the couch and sat. McGonagall glared at him in reproach. Thoroughly discomfited, suffering from a lack of breakfast and caffeine, and resenting the fact that Minerva was there to hear their predicament—and impede his ability to go brew the necessary potion—he cut an acid glance at her and growled, “You needn’t look at me like that; how was I supposed to know that would happen? If you didn’t want to be privy to our private life, you should have bloody well stayed at home!”

To Snape’s great surprise, McGonagall burst out laughing, rocking herself on the chair as she waved her hands about, pointing at him. Snape stared at her, torn between being affronted and bemused. When he crossed his arms and raised his brows in an expression of “Any time now, feel free to explain what’s so funny,” McGonagall sputtered,

“—Oh, now that’s more like it! There’s the Severus I know.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed in confusion and she went on, “Your characteristic snarl—it got lost in all this new-young-lover-Severus! I must say, it’s good to know you haven’t changed completely.”

Snape huffed and tossed his head in acknowledgement. McGonagall continued to chuckle, eyeing him with a mixture of exasperation, amusement, and grudging resignation.

After a long beat of silence, McGonagall said, “So, Albus tells me that you two were going to the Grangers’ last night...” Her statement ended on an upward note, begging Snape to continue.

Snape nodded, his expression sober. “We did.”

“And?”

Snape grimaced. “It will take a while to reconcile everyone to our situation, to say the least.”

McGonagall snorted. Pursing her lips again, she squinted at Snape, then murmured, “I’m sure they’ll come around like the rest of us.”

Snape’s eyes snapped open wide, and he gaped at McGonagall in startled hope. “The rest...?”

Tossing her head and waving her hands in an impatient gesture, McGonagall said, “Well, there’s Albus, Miss Weasley, and myself.” She cut another acid glance at Snape’s uplifted expression and said, “You’re still not off the hook, young man. You’ve got a lot to do to make this up to me. But, I daresay you two need all the help you can get.”

Snape leant forward, beaming in gratitude. Before he could utter a sound, they were once again distracted by the sound of Hermione hurrying down the stairs. She stopped short in the doorway to the living room, glancing between them in apprehension. She had donned a t-shirt and jeans and attempted to tame her tangled hair. She nodded to McGonagall and crossed quickly to Snape, thrusting his shirt—the one she had just been wearing—at him.

“Here. Your turn.”

Snape smiled in rueful gratitude, standing and taking the shirt. “Thank you.” He glanced at McGonagall and said, “I’ll be right back.” Gripping Hermione’s hand, he said, “You needn’t fear Minerva, dear heart. She’s on our side.” With a parting beatific grin, he ducked out of the room, leaving Hermione to gaze at McGonagall in disbelief.

“Is it true?” Hermione’s whisper was full of hope.

McGonagall sniffed archly, then murmured, “Like I told Severus, you’ve got quite a lot to do to make this up to me, but I daresay you could use some friends on your side right now.”

Hermione’s hands flew up to clasp together in front of her throat, and her eyes were bright with gratitude as she darted forward, rasping out an earnest, “Thank you, Professor—”

McGonagall cut her off. “Make the break clean, Hermione. It’s Minerva.” She reached up and cupped Hermione’s hands in hers, patting them and smiling gently. “Albus also told me about the ring. May I?”

Hermione beamed, instantly proffering her left hand, feminine exultation welling up. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

McGonagall slid her spectacles down her nose and peered over them at the ring, turning Hermione’s hand from side to side. Her thumb twisted it around Hermione’s finger, then tried to push it down the length. When it wouldn’t move, her brows rose and she said, “So it’s true about the charms?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. I’d never heard about betrothal charms, but Severus definitely had a brilliant idea when he chose to employ one. The magical world can’t argue with its own charms!”

Snape came thumping back into the room, his hair brushed, clad in his shirt and trousers, and evidently having shaved.

“What charms?”

Hermione and McGonagall turned to him, both smiling. Hermione said, “The ring.”

McGonagall released Hermione’s hand and sat back in her chair. “It’s quite beautiful, Severus. I’m impressed.”

Hermione crossed to Snape, embracing him and resting her head against his chest as they faced McGonagall. Snape’s cheeks bore a faint flush as he mumbled, “Thank you.”

Shaking her head, still trying to come to terms with their new relationship, McGonagall patted the arms of the chair and briskly announced, “Well then, since I’m here, why don’t you give me a tour of the new and improved Spinner’s End?”

Snape and Hermione exchanged a delighted look and Snape stepped forward, hand outstretched to help her up.

With a lopsided grin, Snape said, “Well, you’ve seen the entrance hall and the living room...” They all laughed as Snape led them back out to the entrance hall and up the stairs.

After showing off the upper level, they trooped back down to the main floor, going through the dining room and into the kitchen, where they popped into the back garden for a moment. They didn’t stay outside long, as hawk-eyed housewives were still eagerly watching Spinner’s End. When they came back into the kitchen, Snape paused, his pleasure in announcing his basement lab evident in his voice.

Hermione was as impressed as McGonagall, since Snape had made great strides in getting the place organized with the stores Fern had sent. After Snape had given them a detailed tour, including explanation of all the improvements he had done to the house and his plans for the business, Hermione tried to surreptitiously tug on his sleeve, remembering that she still needed a potion, and it had been hours since they got up.

Snape ducked down as she stretched up to mutter in his ear, but the tell-tale awkward flush on their faces told McGonagall what the secret was. As Snape straightened again, clearing his throat, McGonagall took pity on them and said, “You may as well start brewing that potion, Severus. I’m sure Hermione and I can scrounge something up for a late lunch upstairs. Honestly, it’s enough of a shock that you two are engaged; let’s not add up the duff to the list.”

Snape choked and Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a bark of hysterical laughter at McGonagall’s slang.

Snape grunted, “Indeed,” at the same time Hermione rasped, “Quite!”

McGonagall chuckled and said, “Give it at least a year before you go adding children to the mix.”

At that, Hermione let loose a snort of disgust and shuddered, grunting, “Try never!” Snape, who had been suddenly paralyzed with shock that he and Hermione had never even addressed the issue, blinked in surprise at Hermione’s reaction.

McGonagall frowned and said, “What do you mean, ‘Never’?” Pinning Snape with an aggrieved glare, she demanded, “Have you been rubbing off on her, Severus?”

Snape, struggling with the duelling waves of shock, dread, and relief, found he had no voice, and merely shook his head, his face pale.

Hermione took one look at Snape and realized that her vehement reaction could be problematic. Wishing that they could have had a chance to discuss their feelings in private, rather than discovering all this in front of McGonagall, she took a deep breath and steeled herself to fend off the older woman’s sure-to-be-outraged reaction.

“It’s quite simple, Minerva. Severus has nothing to do with me not wanting children. I’ve never been like other girls in that respect. I honestly don’t care for kids. Even just being around them grates on my nerves. I’ve never liked babies, and the thought of actually giving birth horrifies me. I quickly learned that babysitting was not a good way for me to make pocket money over holidays. So, I’m sure you can understand why I’m so keen on that potion right now.” She turned to face Snape again, adding, “Though I’d rather have a longer-lasting option if you’d brew that one later.”

Snape, astonished again with every statement, nodded, wildly grateful that he had managed to find a woman who wasn’t going to force him to breed against his will just to be able to keep her.

McGonagall stared at Hermione, mouth agape in affronted indignation. Shaking herself to regain her composure, she said, “Well, you’re still young. I’m sure you’ll change your mind later.”

Hermione’s brows lowered and her eyes kindled with an angry light. Drawing herself up haughtily, she said, “Minerva, while I appreciate your intentions, please do not intimate that I am a child who does not know my own mind. If Severus does not feel the same way I do, then he and I will discuss it. But I know how I feel, and I would appreciate being treated like the adult I am.”

McGonagall’s eyes went round. She glanced at Snape, who lifted his hands, palms out, indicating that he knew better than to fight such a battle with Hermione. Internally, he wanted to howl with laughter that Hermione not only felt the same way he did, but she was clearly ready and willing to take on any detractors with the same Gryffindor brashness she had displayed in getting what she wanted in their relationship.

McGonagall, aware that she was a guest—and an uninvited one at that—in their house, and that she had already told them she would be on their side, chose to keep her misgivings to herself. Gathering her dignity, she merely nodded, saying, “Very well then. Why don’t we leave Severus to his work, and get everyone something to eat? It’s a bit late for lunch, but you haven’t eaten yet.”

Hermione deflated from her angry posture and nodded. “I know I could use some tea. Severus?”

She glanced at him and he nodded vigorously, ready to let the tense exchange move elsewhere so he could regain his equilibrium working. Hermione inclined her head toward McGonagall and gestured for her to lead the way upstairs.

In the kitchen, Hermione gathered the necessary items to make some sandwiches, and McGonagall set the kettle to heat. Crossing to the dining table, Hermione began to peel some cucumbers the Muggle way, leading McGonagall to ask, “Wouldn’t it be faster to use your wand?”

Hermione wrinkled her nose and shrugged. “Probably, but since we’re in a Muggle neighbourhood, I’d rather keep to Muggle ways as much as possible for the little things that others may see. It’ll be hard enough to fend off curious busybodies since Severus won’t be leaving the house to go to work like the majority of husbands here. And, I can use the Floo to get to the Ministry, but I haven’t decided yet whether I shall, since it might incite suspicion if I never leave the house, but then I’m not here during the day.”

McGonagall blinked in surprise, impressed that Hermione had even considered such things. Having never lived in a Muggle area, she hadn’t thought about how differently things had to be done in order to maintain wizarding secrecy.

Hermione sliced the cucumbers and continued, “Then again, if I’m to be a liaison between the magical and Muggle worlds, I may introduce the Ministry to the idea of working from home. I plan to get a computer and Internet connection, as that will no doubt be quite helpful in my research, and I doubt they’d work at the Ministry anyway, what with all the magical energy bolloxing electronics.”

McGonagall snorted faintly, somewhat mystified by Hermione’s terminology. “From what I understand, it is your department, so I daresay you can do what you like.”

Hermione flashed a satisfied grin at her former teacher. “Mmm, indeed. My folks are pretty chuffed at the whole thing, too.”

Cocking one eyebrow at her, McGonagall drawled, “But not so much at the other important news, eh?”

Hermione’s smile wilted, and she sagged forward, her expression sad and anxious. “It was… a little horrible. And explosive—“ she saw McGonagall’s alarmed expression and hurried to say, “—no wands or anything! Just, my dad yelled, and there were some quite nasty accusations bandied about.”

Nodding in understanding, McGonagall said, “Give them time, dear. I doubt you two could have done much that would have been more shocking. By the way, I thought you might like to know that some of your friends have been heading quite the fight on your behalf.” Hermione lifted wildly curious eyes to meet the older woman’s bemused gaze. “There was a lot of buzz during the mass exodus to the Hogwarts Express. It was rather raucous, I must say. But whenever they heard people saying anything negative about you and Severus, they jumped on their case with a vengeance!”

Hermione’s grip on the knife tightened in hopeful excitement. “Oh, who? I know Ginny, but who else?”

“Well, I was pleasantly surprised to see Mr. Weasley so firmly on your side. He and Miss Bones were both quite mature about it, actually. And Mr. Longbottom kept jumping to your defence. Miss Patil backed him up, of course. I must say, it’s been so lovely to see that boy blossom so well.”

Hermione and McGonagall exchanged pleased and proud smiles over Neville’s growth. Then McGonagall’s brows shot up and she nodded sharply. “Oh, and I mustn’t forget: Miss Bulstrode even cracked a scathing retort or two!”

Hermione jerked back, astonished. “Really? How odd…”

McGonagall’s pleased smile morphed into a wicked smirk, and she leant forward. “Actually, it was brilliant. Mr. Malfoy was droning on as he always does, and she finally snapped. ‘Shut it, Ferret. Professor Snape deserves to be happy after all he’s done, and Granger’s not half bad, even if she is Muggle-born.’ I tell you, I nearly whooped with laughter! I did manage to control myself, as that would have been quite undignified for my rank and position, now wouldn’t it.”

She leant back again, smoothing her hair and affecting a prim expression, even though her eyes were still dancing with mischief. Hermione smiled in gratitude and wonder.

“Oh, that’s so kind of them, all of them. I must remember to thank them. Thank you for telling me. It does help.” Hermione paused, returning her attention to the cucumber slices she was now layering on a slice of buttered bread. Keeping her face averted, she swallowed and asked, “So, um, did you see, I mean, did he… what about Harry?”

McGonagall’s expression darkened. Patting Hermione’s hand comfortingly, she said, “Mr. Potter was… withdrawn. He didn’t say anything that I heard.” Hermione nodded sadly, and McGonagall continued, her manner brisk, “Which, of course, means he didn’t say anything untoward either! Give him some time, dear. You can’t expect all of us to just embrace such a shock so quickly. Besides, you know what kind of history he and Severus have. He’s got to do a lot to adjust his thinking properly.”

Hermione nodded again, finishing several sandwiches and stacking them on a plate. Before she could rise to fetch the kettle and tea, McGonagall gripped her arm, waiting until Hermione met her gaze before saying, “Hermione, he’s staying with the Weasleys. He’s got both Ron and Ginny to plead your case! I’m sure he’ll come around—and sooner rather than later, if Miss Weasley’s powers of persuasion are brought to bear.”

Hermione cracked a faint smile at McGonagall’s attempt to console her. “Thank you. I hope you’re right.” Then, standing, she shook herself and heaved a cleansing breath. “Now, let’s have some lunch. I’ll be right back with Severus, hopefully.”

Darting into the kitchen, she brought the tea service to the dining table, then disappeared down to the basement.

Snape heard the footsteps on the stairs and looked up, smiling when he saw it was Hermione. Before she could say anything, he said, “Just a moment, love.”

Hermione obediently stopped a distance away from Snape’s workstation, quietly waiting until he was finished with the precise measurement. When he straightened and stepped back from the cauldron, looking expectantly at her, she said, “I’ve some sandwiches ready if you’re hungry.”

Smirking, he said, “I’m starving. Not exactly how I had imagined our first day waking up here…”

Hermione chuckled ruefully, nodding. As Snape stepped out from behind the table, she crossed to him and hugged him, squeezing tight. After a beat, she murmured, “Severus?”

“Mmm, yes?”

“We never got around to talking about children. Hell, we had never really talked much about getting married, and here we are engaged! But, anyway, I wanted to talk to you in private…”

Snape nodded to himself, having known this was coming. Pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, he said, “Listen carefully, love. I concur completely with everything you said to Minerva. I have never wanted to be a father. Witness my own experience with mine for reason enough… At any rate, I have never been interested in children. Teaching was bad enough. And you lot supposedly came to us partially-trained!” He snorted. “I can’t believe we both feel the same way. I would never have thought to get so lucky! Not that I had ever really entertained the notion that I would survive the war and find my soul mate, mind you. But to not only find the woman who completes me more than I had ever dreamed, but find out I’ll not be forced to breed and suffer children just to keep you? It’s a bloody miracle, that’s what.”

Hermione lifted her head and met his frank gaze, her lips spreading in an amused and relieved smile. “Hmm, I like that: I’m a bloody miracle!”

They both laughed, then Snape leant down and kissed her soundly, his delight in her evident.

Backing away, Snape murmured, “You are miraculous, dear heart. And feeding me would be more miraculous still.”

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes, pulling away and tugging his hand to lead him upstairs. Snape cast one last look at the workstation, casting a stasis charm on his work before it sank out of sight.

They emerged into the kitchen to an odd commotion. A twittering blur was darting around, in and out of the kitchen and dining room, and McGonagall was vainly trying to catch it. The open kitchen window served as evidence of how the creature had entered.

Snape and Hermione exchanged a confused glance before surging forward to help.

“Severus, Hermione, oh thank Merlin you’re back! I saw this owl at the window, pecking at it, and I let it in. I didn’t think you’d want your neighbours noticing it, Hermione. But the blasted thing won’t land! Come here, you feathered idiot!”

Hermione grinned as she recognized the bird. “Thank you, Minerva. It’s Pigwidgeon! Ron’s owl. Pig! Come here. I’m sure you have a message for me, don’t you?”

The tiny owl hooted and zoomed over her head before landing on the dining room table. He stuck out his leg with the scroll tied to it, then noticed the sandwiches. Attention completely diverted, he began hopping toward them with predatory intent, but Hermione scooped him up, holding him firm and turning to Snape.

“Severus, would you remove the message for me? Ow! Pig, that’s not nice! Fine, I’ll give you something, but you’re not getting those sandwiches. They’re our lunch. And nipping me doesn’t make me more inclined to give you a treat, you know.” She scowled at him and he hooted softly in apology. Mollified, Hermione set him on the back of a chair and reached for the cucumber peels. “Here. Have these.”

Pigwidgeon snatched up a particularly long peel and took off, the green strand dangling beneath him. When he had disappeared out the window again, leaving the three people in a deafening silence, they all looked at each other, shaking their heads at the owl’s antics.

“Here. Let’s eat.” Hermione gestured for them to sit at the dining table and passed the plate of sandwiches around. Snape served up the tea, and soon, they were all eating—Snape and Hermione with rather single-minded intensity.

McGonagall, who had eaten a late breakfast, wasn’t nearly as hungry as the new couple. Her gaze kept returning to the scroll beside Hermione’s plate. Finally, curiosity getting the better of her, she said, “Aren’t you going to open it? It may have tidings of how others are reacting.”

Hermione grimaced. “True.” She met Snape’s inquiring gaze and said, “Apparently, Ginny, Ron, Neville, Parvati, and even Millicent Bulstrode have been heard defending us. Harry, on the other hand…”

Snape nodded grimly. “He obviously takes issue with our relationship. Even though we’ve buried the hatchet.”

Hermione shrugged. “I guess. He hasn’t said anything, as least as far as Minerva’s heard.”

McGonagall interjected, “He was silent any time I saw him. But, at least he’s not adding to the hullaballoo.”

Snape’s brows rose, conceding the point, then he inclined his head at the scroll. “Why don’t you open it? If it’s from Ginny, she may have news on what Molly and Arthur think as well.”

Hermione set down the remains of her second sandwich and took a deep breath. Looking at Snape appealingly, she cracked the wax seal and unrolled the parchment. Her eyes darted over the page quickly and she said, “It is from Ginny.”

Snape and McGonagall nodded as Hermione’s eyes scanned through the whole message, waiting until she finished before urging her to speak.

Hermione closed her eyes for a long moment, clearly regaining some balance as she took several slow, deep breaths. Opening her eyes again, she began reading to them.

“Dear Hermione,

I hope Pig finds you and Snape. I didn’t know where you were, but I remember you telling me about Spinner’s End before, so I thought it would be a good bet.

I also hope you two are all right. I would never have guessed that he would propose to you like that! But, I’m so glad for you both. You had better have accepted! And I call dibs on bridesmaid!

Boy, if only you could have seen the craziness you left behind… The whole place went up like a Wildfire Whiz-Bang! Dumbledore roared and took off, and when he came back… Let’s just say I understand why You-Know-Who feared him! Of course, you know what I’m talking about, I’m sure, since he and Dobby took off right after he came back. But, apparently you guys really do work magic, since he’s clearly on your side now. I had to do some fast talking with McGonagall, by the way. But, she seemed to be willing to listen to reason. Neville and Parvati were with me when I was talking to McGonagall, and they apparently took what I said to heart, as they were pretty loud in your defence at school and on the train. Ron, and Susan by extension, are behind you. I was so proud of my big brother when he told Harry off! Speaking of which…

Harry’s here, as you well know. He’s back to being as sulky as he was when you two broke up. He said some pretty nasty things right after you disappeared, and he’s rather on my shite list for now. Until he wises up and apologizes, for everything, he’s cut off. Ron’s even giving him a pretty cold shoulder, sticking up for both of us.

Mum and Dad were quite shocked at the news. They were almost bouncing with curiosity when they picked us up at King’s Cross. Turns out the gossip spread like Fiendfyre when the Ministry folk all left Hogwarts. Mum was so outraged that she nearly lost the power of speech. But when Ron and I told them what had really happened, Dad told her to calm down and leave us be, as what’s done is done, and if the Ministry is going to have an inquest, then you two were bound to be put under enough stress as it is and you certainly didn’t need others butting their noses into your business! Mum just glared at him and went white. Ron and I crept away before the next explosion occurred.

This morning, Fred and George sent an owl to the Burrow, asking what happened, as the gossip had finally reached their store. I Flooed over after Mum and Dad finished their row, and talked to them in person. Funny enough, as surprised as they were, they almost seemed impressed that you had it in you to keep such a secret for so long! They did put two and two together and figured out what you had wanted that Disappearing Ink for. They’re not too fussed, at least. As Fred said, Snape turned out to be a good guy after all, and he obviously has enough brains to satisfy you, so what’s all the bother? I’m not sure how public opinion is going to go, but we’ll stick up for you. Even if Dad may not approve, he’s fair enough that he won’t tear you down for following your heart.

I asked him, just now, what he thinks will happen at the Ministry. He said he didn’t know, but that he had heard tell of several people being called in over the weekend to deal with things. I’m just glad your contract is safe. Although, I sure don’t envy you having to go in there with this kind of hostile atmosphere right now! Are you still planning on starting Monday?

I hope to hear back from you soon. I’m really anxious to know you two are all right. Floo-call or send an owl when you can, please.

Tell Snape I said hello. I’m going to send Pig on with this now, and go browbeat Harry some more. He deserves it, the wanker.

Cheers!
Ginny

p.s. I can’t wait to see your ring!”

Hermione paused, looking up to see both Snape and McGonagall bearing identical expressions of amusement and anxiety.

McGonagall turned to Snape and drawled, “Well, there you have it.”

Snape tossed his head and blinked. “Indeed.”

Silence fell again as he and Hermione returned to their sandwiches, pensive. They all jumped, startled, when the phone rang. Hermione and Snape exchanged puzzled looks as Hermione sprang up to answer it.

“Who on earth could be calling? We’ve barely been here!” On the heels of that agitated whisper, Hermione answered the phone, warily saying, “Hello?”

Her brows shot up in surprise, and she said, “Yes, it’s me. How’d you get this number?” While she listened, she covered the receiver and mouthed, “My parents!”

Snape shot up from his chair, and McGonagall watched them, her gaze darting back and forth.

“No, of course I’m not upset. I was just surprised. I don’t even known what the number is, and I hadn’t given it to you, so I couldn’t imagine how you got it. … I know. … We were going to call you. Things just… came up. … No, we’re not trying to avoid you! Mum, honestly, that’s just ridiculous. … Yes, we do want to talk to you. We simply haven’t had a chance to call you yet. … We have company at the moment, actually. … No, we didn’t invite someone over before you! Professor McGonagall showed up this afternoon. … She wanted to talk to us, of course. … Yes, Mum, she was in the dark too. We kept everything a secret from everyone—well, except Ginny. I just got an owl from her a few minutes ago. … I haven’t even had a chance to respond yet. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll call her. … No, not by phone. By Floo. … What? The address? Um, hang on…”

Covering the mouthpiece again, Hermione looked at Snape and hissed, “What’s the address here?” Snape rattled it off, and Hermione repeated it, nodding her thanks.

“What? … Well, yes, it’s not exactly close by. … I have no idea how long it would take to drive, Mum. I’ve never tried it. We Apparate or Floo. … Yes, we still want you to come over and see the house. … No, you’re not imposing. I was going to call and invite you; I really just haven’t had the chance yet. We’re still trying to finish eating! … Yes, I know it’s getting near dinner time. Cucumber sandwiches aren’t much, Mother, but it’s… Fine. … Well, instead of driving, why don’t you Floo over?”

Pausing again, Hermione looked at McGonagall and said, “Have you had the Floo Authority disconnect their fireplace yet?”

McGonagall blinked. “Uh, no. I hadn’t thought about it yet. Didn’t they disconnect it after the competition?”

Hermione grimaced and hissed, “Who? My folks or the Floo Authority? My parents are Muggles, so they’d have no idea how to disconnect anything.” Turning back to the phone, she said, “I don’t know if the Floo still works or not. Do you still have Floo powder?” She tilted the phone away and muttered, “They’re checking now.”

Snape strode into the living room and came back with the pot of Floo powder from their mantel. “Does one of us need to Apparate there with this?”

Hermione held up a finger as she waited for the verdict from the other end of the line. Suddenly nodding and beckoning to Snape, she said, “Okay. No problem. We have some, of course. … Well, are you ready now? We can come get you.”

At that, Snape hurried into the living room to unblock the Floo. McGonagall followed him into the doorway, looking between him at the hearth and Hermione in the doorway to the kitchen. Waving his wand in a complex pattern and intoning the incantation to reverse his previous spell, Snape knelt on the carpet in front of the fireplace. Thus it was that he was nearly bowled over by the flying envelope that zoomed out in a flash of green flames.

His startled cry made Hermione pause, stretching the phone cord as far as it would go as she crossed the dining room, saying, “What is it?”

McGonagall shrugged and gestured at Snape still on the floor. “A letter, I think.”

“Hang on, Mum. Severus just unblocked the Floo and a letter came in.” Frowning in concern, Hermione watched Snape heave to his feet, opening the envelope and reading the loopy script on the page inside.

His expression was sombre as he met Hermione’s worried gaze. “It’s from Albus. He says to expect an owl soon from the Ministry. Apparently, they’ve decided to have a meeting about my alleged misconduct on Monday. He thought I might appreciate a little forewarning. I’m required to attend, of course.”

Hermione sucked in a breath, biting her lower lip. Then, she said, “Mum, we’ll be there soon with more Floo powder so you can come over. Just don’t go anywhere, all right? … Okay. Fine. See you soon. Bye.”

She hurried back into the kitchen to hang up the phone, then dashed past McGonagall into the living room, where she buried her face against Snape’s chest as she hugged him.

Snape caressed her hair with his free hand. “It’ll all be fine, love. Really.”

McGonagall felt her face warm with uncomfortable awareness that she really was intruding on their privacy, especially at such a portentous moment. Sidling past them, she picked up the pot of Floo powder and murmured, “Why don’t I go collect your parents, Hermione? Give you two a moment alone.”

As one, Snape and Hermione turned to face her, eyes bright with gratitude.

“That’s very kind of you, Minerva,” Snape said, inclining his head in acknowledgement.

“That would be lovely; thank you.” Hermione offered a tremulous smile, still embracing Snape.

“You’re quite welcome, indeed.” McGonagall flung a pinch of powder into the hearth and said, “Geoff and Dione Grangers’ home,” sighing with relief when green flames sprang to life. Her murmur of “Excellent” faded away as she stepped into the grate and spun out of sight.


*end of part 1 of 2*