A/N: No, I did not mean to end it there. However, a seventy-odd chapter story is sort of long, so it is here that the second part (or sequel, whatever you want to call it,) begins. The same characters will be doing more and different things, but mainly this story will deal with the controversial relationship between Julie Snape and Draco Malfoy, the process of Jen Weasley's getting to know her real father, and Mitchie's search for answers about her own parents. But for the opening at least, there will simply be a good lot of SS/HG fluff and humor without loads of plot. Here you go.

Chapter One: Tuscany

"It's beautiful," Hermione Granger-Snape whispered, holding her husband of exactly thirteen years close. The sun was setting on a vineyard in Italy, and the smell of ripening grapes was gentle on the pleasant breeze. "How exactly did you get it to smoke that way?"

"Plenty of asphodel instead of nightshade, dear. I don't think the effects should be too much altered."

The most romantic setting in all Europe, and the professors were brewing potions on the veranda.

"Do you think we should owl it home to test?"

"No, the girls will have their hands full as it is. Another good effect of the asphodel, it gives it a long shelf life."

"Won't it also make the wolf sleepy?"

"Not too much. A simple infusion of ginseng taken separately beforehand should counteract that effect…or a couple cans of that ungodly yellow stuff." Severus Snape, despite being mostly used to teenagers and their tastes, utterly loathed Mountain Dew, as did his biological daughter. His adopted one, however, in addition to being a werewolf and an expatriated American, liked the drink. "How do you suppose they're doing with Albus Julian?"

"By now? Oh, I'd imagine Julie's reading him a nice bedtime story while Michelle gives him his last bottle."

"You always had a good imagination, dear."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Define 'nice bedtime story,' love."

"Oh, I don't know; 'Beauty and the Beast' or 'Cinderella' or something."

"Define it in our daughters' point of view." Hermione thought for a moment and then frowned.

"Oh, dear."

"And so, the Duke raced forward with the pistol in hand, shouting 'My way!' and aiming to shoot Christian!"

"But just when it seemed all was lost, little brother, Zidler of all people punched him in the face and sent the bast-" Julie raised an eyebrow at Mitchie, "-the Duke sprawling into the aisle!"

"The gun bounced off the Eiffel Tower with a 'ding!' and the audience went wild!"

The little boy smiled and clapped and Mitchie looked to her sister with concern.

"Julie, we can't tell him how it really ends!"

"And the penniless writer and the courtesan lived happily ever after. How was that?"

"You lied to the child," Mitchie grinned.

"Oh, well. Tomorrow night we'll tell him 'Chicago,' eh?"

"I think not! There's lawyers in that, Julie!"

"A.J.'s not afraid of lawyers," Julie cooed, putting her baby brother in his crib. "What about we read him something?"

"I think there's a children's book someplace," Mitchie looked on the shelf. "Too old, too saccharine…yuck…oh, gods, not that…ah! How about Shakespeare?"

"I think they're doing a lovely job," Hermione kissed Severus on the cheek. "After all, Donaghan and Jen are there."

"Neither of whom are used to babies any more than they," Severus pointed out.

"Pessimist. Harry and Ginny can help them some."

"Dear, Ginny's more likely to need their help delivering her own baby in another week."

"I shudder to imagine how that would go." Hermione stoppered the last bottle of their improved Wolfsbane potion. "Jen knows about delivering babies, though."

"Her cat having kittens under my desk does not count as birthing experience!"

"Well, she did read quite a lot about the subject beforehand."

"Ah, yes. If reading about something guaranteed expertise, you could fly a spaceship, speak Elven, and make friends with Wookiies by now."

"Is this a fight?"

"I don't think so," Severus frowned and then brightened. "It might be. Shall we go make up?" Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned.

"You naughty Slytherin."

"And I'm spent!" Julie announced dramatically, dropping inelegantly onto a chaise lounge in the Snape mansion. It was upholstered in shiny leather, and she promptly slid off and onto the floor. "Ow."

"The Princess Grace herself," Donaghan chided jokingly. "You'd never know yeh were Captain o' Quidditch, Jules."

"I've always been clumsy off my broom," Julie pointed out. "What time is it?"

"Quarter 'til eight," Donaghan told her.

"Cripes, I'm late!" Julie bolted back up the stairs to her room and started getting dressed. Mitchie was at her door a second later, already resplendent in a vintage rock t-shirt and frayed bluejeans with a patch on the knee and each back pocket. She had a black object in her hand.

"Looking for this?" It was Julie's lucky black t-shirt with the snake and lion on it and the sleeves cut off.

"You beast! Where was it?"

"The laundry. Don't worry, I've cleaned it. Sweet Satan, must you wear your Quidditch gloves?"

"Can't play without 'em, Mitch." Julie twirled an ash drumstick in each of her neatly gloved hands. The black leather gloves went up nearly to her elbows, and with the lack of sleeves on her shirt, the effect was quite rakish. Her jeans were also dyed black, with green Slytherin snakes coiled in embroidery on the flares. The silver 'S' on her belt buckle completed the ensemble. Her sister frowned.

"God, you look like Dad's daughter," Mitchie observed. "And what happens if we get caught?"

"Hey, Dad said nothing about no performing, Mitch!"

"He also didn't say we could."

"What he doesn't know we can do won't hurt him," Julie said with a rakish smile. "And Madam Rosmerta's expecting us, isn't she? He's told us always to keep our word."

"Good point." Mitchie grinned. "Have you got all of your sticks?"

"Yep." Julie patted the black canvas bag. "Got Wolfy?"

"Right here." Mitchie slung her beloved electric guitar over her shoulder. "And Jen and Chloe'll meet us there."

"Sweets?"

"She owled earlier, the Quidditch game's running long." Sweets Conlan, their friend and road manager, was enjoying a summer job as junior sports reporter for the Daily Prophet. Hopefully, today she would be able to interview her idol, Oliver Wood, after the Puddlemere United game. Julie and Mitchie, in their mischievous fashion, had bets on about what unseemly object –or body part- she might ask him to autograph. "Don't worry, she has everything set up on the stage for us."

"That's awfully nice of her, getting things done in advance." Julie tied her high-laced boot with a double knot. "I bet I get a lecture about managing my time better with her as the good example."

"She also owled to tell me she forgot to wire the amps," Mitchie smiled, "so we'd better go now to set 'em up."

"Okay." The Snape sisters ambled down the stairs to where Donaghan was happily engrossed in his latest manuscript. At the sound of their footfall, he looked up and was suitably astounded.

"Whoa…" He stood up from his writing table and embraced his fiancée, then Julie in a double hug. "Prettiest rock stars in Europe, you two. Break a leg tonight."

"You don't mind watching A.J.?" Mitchie asked for the umpteenth time.

"Naw. He sleeps almos' always through the night, an' if the wee bairn wakes up, I'll jus' give 'im a bottle an' bore 'im back to sleep readin' out loud, eh?"

"Good man," Julie kissed her brother-in-law-to-be on the cheek. "I'll get the brooms, Mitch." That said, she tactfully withdrew to leave the pair alone.

Her own broom, a Firebolt XP-550, and her sister's, a relatively new Falcon Elite, were in the special walk-in cedar closet she had personally renovated for the family's brooms. Her father's beloved vintage Cleansweep Three was there, too, along with his much newer Firebolt XP-400, and her mother's tame Nimbus 2000, each reposing on its' own set of velvet-covered broom hooks which kept them at the recommended horizontal position to maintain the braking charms. Donaghan's Firebolt XP-400, which was a Scottish cherry edition and therefore a different color than her father's, was on one of the pairs of guest hooks. Neatly wrapped on the hooks next to that was the present Mitchie and Julie had gotten on the off chance their father did find out they were playing in a nightclub during holidays –a brand-new, custom-built Firebolt Phoenix.

Mitchie's summer job illustrating the covers of Muggle books, especially Star Wars ones, and Julie's prize money from second place at the Junior Seeker's Tournament in Los Angeles had both been contributors to this broom, wildly expensive but well worth it. They had ordered it made to spec by a gifted Slytherin broomsman called Howspeth who had played with their father in school and knew his riding style. Vassily Howspeth had been too absorbed in the study of broom making abroad to so much as notice the Death Eaters, and he was so blissfully unaware of world affairs or current events that Mitchie and Julie had immediately liked him. He also told them gloriously funny school anecdotes about their father, which were useful in case they needed to either make their mother laugh or get out of trouble quickly.

Julie got Mitchie's and her broom down off their hooks, grinning nervously to herself. By the time she had gotten outside, her sister was ready to fly. They took off from the Snape mansion and headed for Hogsmeade.

Mad-eye Moody had grown lax in the past ten years. Madam Rosmerta had finally succeeded in convincing him that she was to be trusted with food and liquor, and he was enjoying a double of Old Ogden's when the spotlight came on over by the newly rebuilt stage.

He could remember the days when Rosmerta's mother had owned the place, and her daughter was due to take it over soon. Back during the war with Grindelwald, it had been the best place for swing and jazz in all of England. The stage had been removed in the seventies, and rebuilt very recently. Moody looked over to where Rosmerta's daughter was announcing the headliner.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Three Broomsticks is proud to present…Serpent's Heir!"

'Oh, well,' Moody thought, looking back to his drink as the opening chords of a semi-familiar song sounded and the curtain split to reveal the band. At least rock music wasn't as unlivable as rap in his opinion.

Then the lyrics started.

'I see a bad moon rising
I see trouble on the way

I see wild streaks of lightnin'

I see bad times of day…'

There was no mistaking the voice. Moody looked up in surprise, only to remember it couldn't be Cass Tyler. Then he saw the auburn hair, the light glinting on wire-frame glasses, and knew instantly who it was. The old and grizzled Auror smiled. She looked so much like her parents. The bassist, if he wasn't mistaken, was little Jenny Blodgett, no, Weasley, all grown up and with positively scarlet hair. He couldn't place the girl playing keyboards, but she was blond and tall and extremely pretty. Then there was the drummer, a black-haired, longnosed creature who could only be Julie Snape. If Michelle Tyler Snape was anywhere, it was a safe bet her adopted sister was nearby.

They finished the song and Moody applauded. Tyler had her mother's voice, alright.

"Thank you!" The lead guitar acknowledged the applause. "Want another song?" The crowd responded very vocally with applause and cheers. "Okay!" Mitchie gave her bandmates a hand signal, to which they nodded. Jen moved a bit closer to her mike and Julie counted it off with the drumsticks.

"One, two, three, four!"

"'Oh, I can't take another heartache
Though you say you're my friend
I'm at my wits' end
You say your love is bona fide
But that don't coincide
With the things that you do
And when I ask you to be nice
You say you gotta be cruel to be kind
In the right measure
Cruel to be kind
It's a varied design
Cruel to be kind means that I love you
Baby, you gotta be cruel to be kind!'"

This time, Jen did the lead vocals, with Mitchie and the others singing backup. Jen had a more sultry, feminine voice than her friend, and sounded rather like a British Tori Amos or Vanessa Carlton. Their style was evidently somewhere between vintage rock and punk, and it was clear that somebody had been a Bangles fan years ago. Next they sang 'Hazy Shade Of Winter,' 'Paperback Writer' by the Beatles and 'Leather,' by Tori Amos, which made even Moody's pants uncomfortable. Jen had a gift for sultry singing, and with the werewolf's shredding guitar in the background, it was a wonder any male could stand to be in the place. There was a distinct pause after the song ended before the applause, as few wizards had ever heard that song, and it did have quite a bit of shock value coming from a Weasley. The only song resembling a ballad was a heartrending song called 'Remember The Words,' which had evidently been composed by one of the band. Quite a few people had tears in their eyes by the end of it.

The first time the drummer sang lead was the second verse of 'Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds.' She had an arm mike in front of her, and her voice was a velvety alto that absolutely belied her slightly squeaky speaking voice. For a second the audience couldn't tell who was singing because the drum kit and black clothes concealed her so. Then she and Mitchie sang together on the choruses. The pretty blond sang the last verse in a clear, almost operatic coloratura, and it was evident she was the only one of the four who had ever had proper singing lessons.

"Thank you very much! We're Serpent's Heir, and I'd like to introduce the band," Mitchie announced, to much applause and quite a few whistles. "On the bass is Jennifer Weasley." Jen played a short riff and bowed to the applause.

"Can I get her owl?" a voice inquired rudely. Jen smiled and held up her two fingers and thumb, on which tiny flames appeared. She blew the illusion out like a candle and the man shut up.

"Our keyboarder, Chloe Delacour-Davies." Chloe played an exceptionally fast little interpretation of the Marsellaise' first line and bowed with a mischievous little smile. There were many shouts of 'Vive la France' at that.

"Our drummer is Julie Snape." There was a split second's shocked pause before Julie got applause, but when she did, it was loud and there was lots of it. "And I'm Mitchie Tyler-Snape. You guys want a faster song?"

Moody was enjoying the concert thoroughly, especially when the next number turned out to be a fast punk reincarnation of 'Mr. Blue Sky' by Electric Light Orchestra, one of his favorites. He looked to his left to see how the audience was reacting and noticed a feather quill skating around a parchment as if it were the Winter Olympics for writing instruments. He didn't need to look up to recognize the sparkling rhinestone glasses and over-lifted Joan Rivers face of Rita Skeeter, or the snapping lens of Maggie Skeeter's offensive camera. Fortunately for the girls, it was their second to last number, and after a goodbye and a rousing performance of 'Love Me Two Times' by the Doors, the curtain fell. Mad-Eye considered either going backstage to warn them or owling Severus, but he decided to settle for another Firewhiskey to help him decide.

It really was quite a lovely show.

Morning dawned on the living room of the Snape mansion just as it did all over England, but the sunshine was particularly opprobrious to the worn out members of Serpent's Heir. It wasn't that they were hung-over, though Jen could certainly have gotten that way from what she sampled before their show to calm her nerves. No, they were just beat. Making their debut as the wildest all-girl rock band in wizarding Britain was hard work.

A big owl landed on Mitchie's shoulder with the latest Witch Weekly, and when his landing failed to wake her up, he began to nibble at her ear. Julie, Jen and Chloe were more or less awake by then, and they watched with great amusement as their friend sleepily reacted.

"I'm thleeping…Don-an, knock it off…gah!" Mitchie's hand had connected with feathers and she was startled, to say the least. "Angus!" The other girls cracked up.

"So Donaghan does bite your ears to wake you up!" Chloe crowed.

"Sod it all, owl, what is it?" Mitchie looked at the cover of the magazine. "Holy shit!"

"What is it?" Julie asked, looking over the werewolf's shoulder. "Oh, my sainted aunt!"

It was a direct knockoff of the Beatles 'Let It Be' cover. The only exception was that Mitchie was in John Lennon's place, Jen had Paul's spot, red background and all, and Julie and Chloe replaced George and Ringo respectively. Jen was happily surprised.

"We made the cover after one show?"

"Look at the headline! Merde!" Chloe swore loudly, startling Donaghan, who had just made the girls breakfast. "'Slytherin's Rock and Roll Sex Kittens!' I totally resent that! I'm a Gryffindor!"

"We are so busted," Mitchie observed sadly. Julie tried to smile.

"Let me read the article. Maybe it's not that bad." Two seconds passed and Julie threw down the magazine with a very inappropriate but thoroughly British curse word. The others looked at her expectantly. "It is."

"Oh, let me see," Chloe insisted, picking up the mistreated magazine. "Here, I'll read it aloud.
"'The guitar hangs from the young woman's shoulders like a collapsed lover, eagerly awaiting her toughened fingers' caresses on the taut steel strings. It is the premiere of a fledgling band at a reborn nightspot, and with daddy nowhere in sight, these wild girls are ready to strut their sinful young talents. Serpent's Heir, a group of women in their late teens and early twenties, personified the hedonistic glory of the wild seventies last night at the Three Broomsticks. '"

"See what I mean?" Julie asked. Chloe raised an eyebrow at her and continued.

"'Despite their youth, these females have musical gifts beyond belief. The harmonies were flawless and the songs alternately heartfelt, mischievous, and passionate. At points during the show it was hard to tell where witches left off and instruments began, for each artist seemed at home playing music on a stage before hundreds as they would be speaking in the Common Room. What also was remarkable about their performance was how the character of each musician was evident."

"That's not too awful," Mitchie said, scratching her ear.

"The next bit's about you," Chloe said, brightening.
"'The guitarist and apparent leader, one Michelle 'Mitchie' Tyler-Snape, opened with gritty vocals and energetic musicianship, coaxing wild howls and screaming shreds from a guitar that obeyed her commands like a loyal house-elf. Her mischievous smiles during the Muggle song 'Paperback Writer' gave new, humorous meaning to a classic, and original composition 'Remember The Words' showed such raw emotion that many of the audience were moved to tears. Ms. Tyler-Snape is sixteen years old, the daughter of American Aurors, now deceased, and adoptive daughter of Professors Severus and Hermione Granger-Snape. She is also openly lycanthropic, with a werewolf's star visible on her arm. Should her career progress, she will surely be looked on as an example of werewolves' normality among others, as is renowned author R.J. Lupin.'"

"They compared me to Mr. Lupin?" Mitchie was amazed. "Cool!"

"'Keyboards for the evening were played by Mademoiselle Chloe Delacour-Davies, daughter of Roger Davies, French Nationale Quidditch coach, and Fleur Delacour-Davies, fashion mogul and popular designer. Mademoiselle Davies is a striking blonde whose height belies her young age. She has a sense of culture in her singing that is notedly absent from most voices in contemporary rock clever improvisations on the keyboard lent insight into what may have happened had Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart been born in our century. She did not use Repeating Charms for chords, but actually played her instrument in the Muggle way, and this with such dexterity that one would congratulate whomever was her teacher.'" Chloe frowned. "I think I may vomit."

"Go on," Julie encouraged. "It's hilarious."

"'The bass player, a stunning redhead named Jennifer 'Jen' Weasley, is possessed of an unbelievable voice reminiscent of Celestina Warbeck's early career. She exudes sensuality without sluttishness, even when singing lyrics that are far beyond suggestive. The bassline for each of Serpent's Heir's songs was tightly played and generally most expert, though it was obvious that Ms. Weasley's fingertips were in pain by the end of the evening. Surprisingly enough, Ms. Weasley is the most senior member of the group, daughter of Professor Bill Weasley and Ms. Maria Catesby, whose controversial divorce was recently mentioned in our Society column. Ms. Weasley seems to be recovering well, if her musical gifts are any indication.'"

"Well, at least they got in a good jab at Mom and Bill," Jen said sarcastically.

"They seemed to like you a lot, though," Mitchie pointed out. "Read on, Macduff."

"'Serpent's Heir's drummer is perhaps the cause of their unique name. Julia 'Julie' Starcatcher Snape played with style similar to American wizard-musician Don Henley, which made several selections sound very avant-garde. Her personal style was also most remarkable, as it seems Ms. Snape has acquired her father's preference for the color black and the Slytherin mascot. She also wore black leather Quidditch gloves, a fashion statement doubtless acquired during her recent trip overseas. With two daughters in such a fascinating new performance force, the Professors Snape surely must be proud.'"

"You're right. We are totally busted," Julie agreed. "Couln't they have mistaken me for my cousin?"

"We don't have cousins," Mitchie reminded her.

"Good point."

"Does your mother even subscribe to this?" Chloe asked.

"No idea."

"Because you could just hide the mail from her if it doesn't get directly delivered."

"Are you mad? Aunt Ginny will probably save five copies. Who wrote this drek?" Mitchie asked.

"Rita and Maggie Skeeter, why am I not surprised?" Chloe rolled her eyes and then suddenly looked again at the article. "Wait a tick. The first paragraph said we were hedonistic femmes fatale with guitars and booze and sex in relative abundance."

"What? I don't remember that being mentioned anyplace!"

"It was implied, Mitchie. What I'm saying is, after the first paragraph, this article is completely laudatory."

"Completely what?"

"Laudatory." Mitchie still looked blank. "Good! I think Rita's the only one who needs to be sacked. Maggie seems to fancy us quite a bit."

"Please, Merlin, don't let her be a lesbian," Julie observed. "Or if she is, please make her be hot."

"Really, Starcatcher, I never knew."

"I was thinking in terms of Sweets. Isn't she-?" The Seeker made a strange but expressive gesture. Mitchie shook her head.

"Naw. Just sporty an' horny."

"I resent that," Sweets remarked, closing the door gently behind her so as not to wake A.J. in case he was sleeping. "I am decidedly not horny after last night."

"Merlin's balls, she really did sleep with Wood!" Jen cried happily. "Pay up, Frenchie."

"Get your minds out of the gutter, girls," Sweets frowned in disgust. "Some old dotard in a Wimbourne Wasps jersey hit on me all night."

"Ludo Bagman?"

"Yep. Bastard kept asking me if he could change my accent internally. Must be hung like a house-elf, too." For all she was funny and well liked by the British girls, Sweets had a Brooklyn tendency to be foul-mouthed when offended. "I did get to interview Wood, and yes, he is a dish with melted cheese on it. His son is cute, too, more my age, as well."

"Kevin? He's not bad."

"Have you seen Mack lately?" Jen asked.

Sweets went slightly red.

"He took me home…" the other girls smiled, "after he knocked Ludo Bagman out for bothering me."

"Sweets! That is so cool! He defended your honor!"

"Was there blood?"

"Lots! I think he broke the asshole's nose."

"Aww," Chloe seemed truly moved. "That is so sweet, drawing blood for you! Yecch!" the French girl rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"So chivalry is not dead," Julie mused. "Lucky, you got a Gryffindor."

"Are you seeing him later in the week?"

"Later in the day, actually," Sweets smiled, blushing a bit. "I asked him to meet me near Honeydukes."

"Damn, girl! You asked him out yourself!" Jen was impressed. "Feminism rules in the Colonies!"

"It's a bright idea, too. There's no faster way to learn about a man than by seeing what he likes best in a candy store." Sweets grinned. "A friend told me that long ago."

"Courtesy of Mum's journal," Mitchie smiled.

"So, did you see the- -oh, you did." Sweets rolled her eyes. "Isn't Rita a bitch and Maggie a dear? We should seize her and subvert her mind."

"Or at least get her out from under that wretched aunt of hers," Julie agreed.

"So, does your mother subscribe to this magazine?" Sweets asked.

"No idea. She might."

"Well, if she does, you're busted. Why don't you write an owl explaining matters?"

"Explaining? We were performing without permission, what's to explain?"

Sweets unrolled a bit of parchment and read aloud:

"'Dear Hermione and Severus,
I just wish to thank your two daughters and their friends for assisting me in filling an open spot Friday evening. They performed several songs and were very well received by a medium crowd. I noticed a couple of reporters present, and can only advise you to take harsh critics with a grain of salt, as I found the girls wonderful. They certainly know how to aid a friend in a jam.
With my most heartfelt regards,
-Rosmerta."

"Damn, Sweets!" Julie looked at the note. "You forged her writing and everything!"

"No, I just told her what those old biddies wrote about you guys. She thought a letter would help you out. Also, she wants to know if you're free next week."

Julie grinned at the New Yorker.

"You are the best road manager on the earth."

Severus Snape woke to an owl perched on the four-poster.

"Go away," he told it. "I'm busy. Put the mail on the desk."

The owl hooted and obeyed. Severus rolled over and went back to sleep. The owl looked at the heaps of mail already there and hooted with amusement, before heading back out the window for his perch in Mitchie's room.