Summary: AU, SSHG, Crack, In a world where Lily lived, life was not perfect for Severus Snape. Hope came with the arrival of Hermione Granger who first became his apprentice, friend, and then so much more. But old friends are not happy with his happiness, and one spell changes everything.

Beta Love: Dragon and the Rose, Dutchgirl01

Barely

Chapter Six

Remember, beneath every cynic there lies a romantic, and probably an injured one.

Benjamin Franklin

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Minerva said as she sipped her cup of tea.

Manfred was somehow managing to have a casual conversation while drilling his young apprentices on how to dodge physical and magical attacks. They held their own for a minute or two before they slipped up and went sprawling into each other and the thankfully prepared and heavily cushioned wall.

"I think so, too," he said. "I have plenty of funding for the nest egg as it were, and it will get their feet into the market without having to buy into that entire apothecary good-old-wizards boys' club that tends to make starting a new business nearly impossible without their support. Well, you hardly need to go that far to obtain the necessary expertise, and our Head Boss of Us will most likely be eager for some plump contracts in basic potions for her Unspeakables. They do seem to like blowing things up or standing in bonfires from time to time."

"Ah, but where?" Minerva mused thoughtfully. "Hogsmeade is conveniently located in an all-Wizarding locale, and we could also double as a supplier for ingredients, reagents, and such even if people do not require a specific potion."

"Severus was thinking of Hogsmeade as well," Manfred agreed. "And with their connection to the herd, it would be a perfect opportunity to get supplies to and from the centaur for various special projects—reagents that would normally be impossible to obtain otherwise. The market would be high indeed, and there is no way to force a centaur to harvest something for a potion not meant for centaur use. Quality over quantity, always. There are also other ventures to pursue in custom-made potions, patenting superior potions, growing and obtaining our own top-quality potions ingredients, and, of course, being the sole outlet for ley-enhanced concentrations in Britain. Master Stonehewer specialises in ley-fabrics made from plants grown under the ley influence, high-end silks and other such things, so we will not need to compete with him."

Hermione brushed herself off as she helped Severus up. "And we can craft an altar to properly honour Lord Hades for his and Persephone's blessings."

"A very wise choice, apprentice," Manfred said approvingly. "Hades has always been the patron of wealth and of the Earth, and Persephone the wealth that grows from it. It would honour both Their gifts to us and the Old Ways that run far deeper than most mortals remember."

Manfred itched one ear with a wing spur. "I have already spoken with our Head Boss of Us, and she thinks that the area could be well served with a healing clinic as well, child. It would be a great location that is not constantly under siege as St Mungo's is at all times. You could be a bit more casual and have less oppressive business hours."

"Me?" Hermione squeaked, her eyes going very wide.

"Do you know of another healer in training who will soon be ready to strike out on her own?"

Hermione looked ready to bolt.

Severus put a hand on her shoulder. "You'll do just fine."

"It would be a great resource to have the apothecary so close to the healing clinic. Patients could purchase their needed potions on-site without needing to travel out of their way. I'm sure you could find some interested healers that would be more than willing to work in a place like Hogsmeade than London."

"But what if they need specialised healing?" Hermione cried, distressed.

"You will be the specialist, child," Manfred chided gently. "But you will not be alone. Healing is an art for which we must always have others there to support us and offer a second opinion when needed. I would never ask you to single-handedly heal all comers, not until you are at least a few thousand years old."

The dragonbat chuckled as Hermione's shifted through an interesting variety of colours and expressions. "Fear not, love. I will also be but a quick Patronus away, should you require me. As much fun I would have in getting out closer to the world, I'm certain that Amelia would throw a clot if she thought of me, in all my sexy dragonbat glory, rampaging across Wizarding Britain just now."

Hermione snickered into her sleeve.

"You will be fine, my dear," Manfred assured her. "We shall be bound throughout the ages, and I take my responsibilities very seriously. You will stand alone, true, but we shall stand together as well. We will not be alone. I will not be alone anymore. That is a gift in itself. I fear, however, that you both are rather stuck with me in your lives. Some will never believe that is actually by your own choosing."

Severus snorted, shaking his head. "Who minds the DoM's infirmary when you are not there to scare the pants off of the patrons?"

Manfred flipped his wing dramatically. "Oh, I am not the only healer at the DoM as well you know. I am simply the dragonbat on call whenever things go pear-shaped."

"The only dragonbat," Severus smirked.

"Oh, I'm sure there are others out there," Manfred said. "Not all of them are as civilised as myself, however. A great many of them are mortal, living fleeting lives and questionably meaningful existences. Some live longer than others, if they become wise. Some do not."

"I guess I figured all dragonbats lived as long as you," Hermione said. "But, I only know one."

Manfred chuckled. "Much as you are now, we are bound to the leys and magic itself. We exist as caretakers. It does not mean we cannot have hobbies along the way, and who is to say healing, potions, or any other thing we dabble in doesn't help magic in some way?"

"Cryptic, like a centaur," Severus said with a sigh.

"Like a dragonbat," Manfred said with a smile.

Hermione was touching her cypress laurels on her head thoughtfully. "You're not an ordinary dragonbat, though, are you, Master?"

Manfred smiled. "You're not an ordinary warcat, are you, my child? Nor is Severus an ordinary chimaera."

The dragonbat took her hands gently and soothed her skin with his thumbs. "I was born from great Writhing Dark, dear one. Some would say those that would be called dragonbats are but pale imitations to me, but I have seen a great many rise and fall. The time is irrelevant. When we are born equally so. What we do with the time we have been given is everything. We have been tasked with something greater than a mortal's lifetime. We have been freed of the tethers or time in order to do so. In ways, mortality is a gift. In the finite there is a passion that comes in the fleeting. A drive that comes from limitation. But magic believes that we are here for a different purpose, not only to preserve it and protect it but to also remember it as it truly is so that the generations that blink around us do not forget its meaning and its gift. We will watch and inspire those driven with life to find their own epiphanies. We will heal their bodies but for a time to allow them their best possible chances. And sometimes, we will find those like I found you and Severus. Diamonds created in the vast pressure of the aeons made form in a perfect moment under stress. Companions through a long life that make eternity bearable. You and Severus are both diamonds, and you will shine as the ages cut and polish you to divine sparkle. You will withstand. You will glow. You will never fail to make me proud. There are no unforgivable mistakes, only learning opportunities, and we will falter and learn just as others do. The difference is only in that we will do it far longer than everyone else. We'll be old hands at what most have been trying to figure out their entire lives. This is our gift to help those around us respect that which came before and after them. And I believe in you both very much. If anyone can withstand the buffets of time and responsibility, it is you both, and I look forward to what lies ahead."

Hermione looked like she was about to cry, water gathering in her eyes, and she shifted into her prehistoric cat form and pounced the elder dragonbat's human guise and rubbed all over him, purring like mad.

Manfred let out a low rumbling laugh as he soothed her ears and ruffled her scruff of manelike fur. "I love you too, my child, and it will always be so."

Severus crossed his arms across his chest awkwardly, having no such drive to rub himself over their master with such abandon and embarrass himself.

Hermione, however, was having nothing of it, and she pounced on him, sharing her furry hugging maul with equal enthusiasm.

"Gah!" Severus wheezed, having about forty-seven stones worth of giant cat pinning him down.

Both Manfred and Minerva were laughing together as Severus gave up the ghost of his dignity due to Hermione's warmth.

"I think we should call it the Cloak and Pomegranate," Severus said after he caught his breath. "It pays tribute to our origins but also isn't a bad association with healing."

Manfred and Minerva nodded together.

"That sounds like a great name," Manfred said, approving. "And you, Minerva," he rumbled. "Do you wish to join our little adventure?"

"What, me? No," Minerva laughed. "I am quite up to my neck with my duties at the school. I would be glad to be the liaison between you and Poppy for all of the school orders, though."

"Sounds fair," Manfred agreed. "Herding scores of rampaging hormonal children is probably enough of a job."

"Don't I know it," Minerva said with a rueful shake of her head. "Just keep a nice warm sunbeam in the front window for me, and I'll be sure to visit from time to time."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Manfred said with a smile. "I think I know the perfect plot of land to purchase, too."

"Oh?" Minerva queried, curious.

"The area near the place they call the Shrieking Shack," Manfred said. "It's close to the forest and Hogwarts and close enough to town and the trains to make logistics a breeze. No one else wants it because they believe the place is haunted."

"Hogwarts is haunted," Severus muttered. "And that never stopped anyone."

"Well, I don't think we'll have any problems," Manfred sighed. "Plenty of land there to build our own place, and the reputation of the shack should keep away any nosy neighbours."

"Perfect," Severus said.

Hermione huffed, her long whiskers twitching. Her tail looped with her amusement.

"Well, you two need to get busy studying for your exams and practicals," Manfred said. "Leave all the legalese to me. I have a good bit of experience with wrangling."

"A few countless centuries worth," Minerva snorted.

Manfred grinned, just a hint of fang on his human guise.

If Severus had once held any notion at all that his life would eventually lead to running his own apothecary and healing clinic alongside the one witch he couldn't even imagine not having in his life, well, he'd have thought himself utterly mad.

Now, the clinic was fairly bustling with busy healers from all walks of life and specialisations and the apothecary was swamped with orders from all over including the Department of Mysteries, Aurors, various foreign ministries, and more, he was frequently having to Oath and train staff to keep up with it.

They even had a holistic element to their healing for those who were interested, run by none other than the young centaur Firenze and his herdmate Bane. The pair seemed to be in good spirits now that the expansive back "garden" was set up like a centaur encampment, made to feel like a home away from home. They had helped erect the standing stones for their lunar and stargazing, and there were a number of patrons who visited, trading in wildcrafted items as was tradition. The centaur were very happy to tend the small shrine to Hades and Persephone as well, and the mare Brightleaf and her young foal, Peppercorn, found their own happiness in ensuring the small shrine was kept spotlessly clean and always respectful to the Lord of the Underworld and his beloved wife. They also tended their private garden of rare potion ingredients, including the ever-cranky "hoof nippers" and sneezing stargazer moonflowers.

Their respect must have impressed the gods, for it wasn't long after Brightleaf and her foal had begun their duties that a small grove of pomegranate trees sprang up around the shrine as if to signal their approval as well as provide clear evidence of their ever-watchful gaze.

The leys, too, seemed supremely happy that their chosen had picked out a good spot, and the main ley did a little detour to ensure its roots went directly under their establishment. The smaller ley tendrils zipped and played about the area with the added benefit of zapping the biting flies as they went. The Covenant between the leys and their chosen seemed to be well and truly cemented, and there were no accidental Squibbings or unfortunate disasters that came along with random people sticking their noses and wands where they didn't belong.

Now, with the former Dark Lord and his minions completely erased as a threat, people were settling in for a chance at a better life, and the unfortunate families that had been Judged by Lord Hades over their foolish devotion to Tom Riddle, now found themselves living out their lives without magic—something they had convinced belonged them and only them via their superior pure blood.

Worse, they realised they had been following a mere half-blood who had only deceived them into believing him a pureblood to begin with.

And then, there were some like the Malfoy family that found they had managed to dodge the Avada Kedavra. True to the Oath he had taken proving that he had been under the Imperius curse, Lucius Malfoy and those like him all paid weekly visits to the small shrine to Hades and Persephone, often offering very generous donations to the clinic and the shrine for their new lease on magical life. There were those like Alastor Moody that kept them under a suspicious watch despite it all, but even Severus could see that the premature stress lines that had plagued Lucius ever since his father had been caught torturing him with the Cruciatus tus in Knockturn Alley had now all but vanished.

Lucius, like many pureblood sons, had been caught firmly under the bootheel of the family patriarch—and many of them had been the furthest from sane.

Black, on the other hand, had finally come to terms with the fact his father was not the pureblood bigot he'd often believed him to be and his father's paranoia had been well-founded in the discovery that his wife via a marriage arranged since childhood had been slowly poisoning him over the course of the last decade.

Between that and being cured of Riddle's insidious curse—

He'd finally started to grow the hell up.

Mind, most of the gossip had come from Regulus Black, who was now one of Severus' most gifted and highly-valued employees in the fine art of potion making. He wasn't one for devising his own, but Regulus could follow directions to the letter and memorise a method to even the most exacting standards, and he could adjust on the fly whenever the ingredients demanded it. That was enough for Severus. He didn't want dunderheads experimenting with healing potions only to end up killing someone.

Potter, it seemed, had left bullying in the past along with one Peter Pettigrew. They'd had an epic falling out one day, the likes of which had resulted in hexes flying everywhere, blowing the corner awning off the Three Broomsticks, and ending with Pettigrew having maimed a four-year-old witch who had been visiting Honeydukes along with her parents.

Peter Pettigrew went before the Wizengamot and would be serving Her Majesty's pleasure in Azkaban for quite a long time to come.

Hermione had always said that there was something off about Pettigrew from the very beginning, and it seemed she wasn't far wrong in her feelings after all.

Potter had apparently begun dating Marlene McKinnon, and for whatever reason, that had made Peter completely lose his mind.

What little of it he had ever had, as far as Severus was concerned.

Life went on, and Severus finally began to see what Manfred had been teaching them all along. They had plenty of time with which to live their lives, and their lot in life was not to be the judge and jury of those around them. That was for their peers and even the Erinyes to dish out.

Or—

In the case of one supremely unlucky Peter Pettigrew.

Get eaten by a guard's pet Kneazle while attempting to escape in his rat Animagus form. The only thing left behind had been his right hand—the one part of the rat the Kneazle hadn't gulped down before it changed back into a human hand right in front of the horrified guard's eyes.

A trip to St Mungo's revealed that Peter Pettigrew's fate had essentially been—suicide by cat.

On the whole, Severus thought Pettigrew gave rats as a species a bad name.

On one hand, the boy had apparently been cunning and skilled enough to become an Animagus, but on the other he obviously hadn't thought of the guards possibly having pet felines.

Clearly, he hadn't been around Hermione at any point in his Animagus career, or he'd have had his neck broken and been down her gullet far faster than he could have realised his mistake.

Hermione was then and still remained an avid hunter, as evidenced by their very well-stocked larder.

Potter had gone on to become an Auror, and considering the life of crime he had led as a student, he had a lot of experience evading the letter of laws to know precisely how to foil criminals. Severus found it a bit of a relief that he'd grown up and taken proper responsibility for himself. He could only imagine what kind of horrible person Potter would have grown up to be if he'd still been doing all the bloody stupid things he'd done as a kid.

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione said as she pressed her face into his hair with a purr.

Severus turned, a soft growl in his throat. "That I am a very lucky man."

"Oh?" Hermione said, raising a curious brow. "How so?"

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I think of all the things that could have gone wrong and how many things went absolutely right, and here I am with you, love. The very best of reasons to be thankful."

"You do have a serpent's tongue," she said with a smirk, her lips pulling into a half lined smile.

He placed his hand on her abdomen. "And how is the little one?"

"Kicking," she complained, drawing his hand to the other side where the sensation of fish ripping in a pond caused his eyebrows to rise.

His expression softened. "Lucius left an offering to the shrine the other day. Narcissa is pregnant. He also stopped in for a supply of prenatal potions to make sure their child has the very best chance after what his ogre of a father did to him."

"Cruciatus does some rather random but terrible things to different people," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I've seen a lot of post-war patients, and none of them have the same response to the Cruciatus save for the lingering mental trauma. The body's response, though, is always a mixed bag. At least with Lucius, as you know, he came in for treatment. And—he's talking to you, which is good for the other half of the therapeutic regime."

Severus nodded. "I don't really consider myself a therapist as such, but he seems genuine in his need to be a better man than his father. Not that it would take all that much."

"A lot of people seem to think that we've seen the end of this war, and that the danger is over, but it never really goes away, does it?" Hermione sighed. "There will always be another war. The next danger. The next threat. The next megalomaniac."

Severus cupped her cheek with one hand. "There will always be problems in the world, but—" He stroked her skin tenderly with his thumb. "We find the things we love, the things we live for, whether it be duty or otherwise. Some are happy with the smallest of things. Some only with great things, but—we all have our dreams and goals. Once, the greatest of my dreams was being able to outdo my father and make him pay for everything he ever did to me, my mother."

He pressed his forehead to hers. "Then you came into my life and everything changed. I finally saw something other than my simmering hatred. My pain. I had a goal that wasn't just about me. At first, all I wanted was to protect you, and then it became so much more. I didn't want to be the kind of person who couldn't be there for you. My best friend. Everything that brought beauty back into my life. And later—"

He smiled. "You help me see the beauty in life. In so many things. You helped me see beyond my personal grudges and pain. And if we can help others survive long enough to find their own reasons for blazing their own path through life, then they can endure through the hardest of times."

Hermione's lip quivered, and she bit it only seconds before forty-seven stones of pregnant prehistory pounced him and snuggled him into the floor with a loud, thrumming purr-growl.

Severus attempted to move but did not succeed. "I love you too, my wife."

Regulus came around the corner of the shoppe with a boxful of potions to shelve. "Um, you okay, boss?"

Severus grunted. "Just fine," he rasped.

"Good thing your wife is a healer," Regulus said cheekily as he continued to shelve potions.

Severus lay flat on his back, spreadeagle. "Outstanding," he wheezed as he found it ironic that his staff knew better than to stand between a giant war cat and her mate.

Hermione woke in the middle of the night to find that her mate had shifted and tucked her snugly within his warm wings, and she smiled. He'd become even more protective with the pregnancy, and the shift was one way to tell that the level of his protectiveness was markedly higher than usual. At night, when she was, perhaps, the most vulnerable, the shift would consume him and she'd find herself tangled in his wings and fur in the morning, safe and protected.

She smiled. And she was never, ever, cold. That was for certain.

She'd never feared him, and she had no fear that he in his monstrous form would be an even more dutiful mate to herself and protector to their child.

A ley tendril zipped by her nose, tickling it as it moved along, and she smiled. Sometimes, they would gather around her abdomen, pressing against her as they seemed to "listen" to the life forming within. Sometimes, they would "sing" and she wondered if the child would know the songs of the leys before they were even born.

It seemed the leys were just as excited as their relatives for the arrival of their child, and that was saying something as Minerva would visit often, and Manfred had made a point to check in on them as often as the various crises that occurred in the DoM's infirmary allowed.

Hermione found their presence in her and Severus' lives more than a little comforting. Her parents, as far as she knew, were a little bit occupied with their elder daughter's delinquent behaviour. Without Hermione there to be blamed (either by Petunia or via her parents dismissing it as sibling rivalry) Petunia had gotten herself pregnant by some obnoxious blowhard named Vernon Dursley—a young man who'd already had a few run-ins with the law due to some allegedly shady dealings that her parents implied "might be" or "could be"related to illicit drugs. Regardless, Petunia had run away from home and gotten married and was pregnant. The police had ransacked Petunia's old room and found a distressing amount of material that left less denial possible for her parents.

Petunia was now a single mother at least until Vernon got out of lockup, and even then the Evanses wondered what sort of father material the boy would be. Petunia, blaming her parents for all that went wrong in her "perfect world" had ended up moving in with Vernon's parents rather than suffer her own—

The drama alone made Hermione's head ache miserably. She was thankful, doubly so, that DCI Matthews and Minerva had made things happen to protect both herself and Severus from the ongoing train wreck that was Petunia Evans.

Nora, too, visited often, and she was the kind of family friend that they could rely on to be there through thick and thin and keep them well apprised of both magical and Muggle law enforcement drama. Even if part of that usually involved news of her sister—

Older sister, but apparently Petunia still wasn't that good at making the wisest of life choices.

And with the too little, too late approach, Hermione wasn't sure what to think of her parents, but she took a lesson from what Severus had said to her so many times. They had so much time, and most had only a finite amount. To hold a grudge against someone who could very well die before any sort of resolution could ever be reached would be, she realised, terribly unfair on their part.

So, as Severus had relinquished the years of built-up anger and pain that had focused the most around his Muggle father, Tobias, she in turn forgave her parents for just wanting things to be "normal." They couldn't help that they'd desperately wanted their two daughters to get along and be happy—it wasn't as if Hermione's parents had called her a freak like Petunia had. It had never been like that.

They just didn't understand her or the inherent magic of Hermione's world. All they had was a wholly Muggle world and Muggle experiences. And since Hogwarts was invisible to Muggles, it wasn't like they could ever learn. The most they could see was Diagon Alley, and Hermione knew from experience watching new students and their parents that it was stressful enough even for many magical families.

Severus and Hermione had had DCI Matthews and Minerva McGonagall. Later, they had Manfred as well. They couldn't have asked for a more well-grounded set of individuals to tame the wonder and chaos of Diagon Alley for two wide-eyed young apprentices.

They'd been lucky. So very lucky.

They had each other, too.

Later, they'd had the luck to run into the centaur and earned their way into their good graces.

They'd met Lord Hades, not as a god to be feared but a god who had been denied visitation to his very own wife by his oppressive mother-in-law. It had made the scope of the gods more identifiable. Understandable.

Then, they had met Master Morgan and had passed the sort of test you couldn't study for: the test of magic itself.

They had a good life, and for that gift, she knew they could be a bit more patient with those who would have much less time than they had. They could forgive the transgressions of a fleeting, frantic life in the hopes that their influence could help those they met to find meaning in their own way. Even if it only affected one person at a time or some fleeting moment that would have hardly made someone look twice.

DCI Matthews could have turned her back on them back when they were children, saw they had families and left them be, but she hadn't. That one action had steered the course of two children whose worlds had changed for the better.

If she and Severus could help others in such a way, whether it be human, centaur, or some new otherly creature they had yet to meet, then their lives would be enriched for it.

Hermione smiled, snuggling drowsily into her mate's warm embrace.

KzztTingTINGting!

Something manifested in a swirl of ley magic as one of the tendrils brought them something of interest. It wasn't the first nor would it be the last time, she knew. The leys liked to do more "house cleaning" in their area now that they had ley-born to bring things to.

Hermione looked out from Severus' warm wing to see the glint of a blue gem surrounded by a circlet of silvery metal.

A diadem.

Hermione watched as the curious ley tendrils gathered around the diadem and converged on it like a swarm of bees.

There was a sudden howling, keening sound as Dark magic escaped the fallen diadem and was quickly purified by the concentrated ley energy. The gem glowed a brilliant blue-white as the Dark magic was assimilated by the leys, leaving whatever remained with the diadem.

Hermione thumped her head against the pillow.

"Severus."

"Mmph," he replied, groggy.

"The leys brought us something else."

"Not another blank diary," he groaned.

"It looks like a crown," she clarified. "A diadem."

"Call the British royalty," he muttered, snuggling into her warm neck and back.

Hermione rolled her eyes, feeling around for her wand on the bedside table. Summoning her Patronus, she promptly sent it zinging off to the Head Boss of the DoM.

Closing her eyes, she fell back asleep almost instantly, seduced by her mate's radiant aura of warmth.

The ley tendrils rubbed up against them like shameless heat-seeking felines, wrapping around them affectionately after a job well done.

One wayward ley-tendril got in a tussle with another over the warmest spot, and one spat out a locket at the other. The other, annoyed, regurgitated a golden goblet in the other's "face." Both items bounced across the floor and landed in a pile with the diadem.

A larger, older ley tendril smacked the two smaller ones into stopping their argument after swiftly purging the two new additions of Dark magic. The younger tendrils seemed to sulk as the larger one moved under Hermione's hand, oozing under her palm like a cat seeking its favourite person's caress.

Hermione's hand moved over the ley with a gentle stroking motion, and she pulled it closer into a snuggle, yawning as she fell deeper into sleep.

The two younger tendrils, now contrite, wriggled in between the sleeping pair and settled, their argument forgotten.

"I like the feel of this one, father," Draco said as he pointed to the silver cauldron.

"Hn," Lucius said as he browsed the shelves. He looked over at the various cauldrons his son was busy inspecting.

"This one, daddy!" a young platinum-haired girl cried, bouncing up and down. She pointed to a silver cauldron with prancing unicorns engraved on it.

"You must make your choices carefully, Lyra," Lucius warned. "This is to be your primary cauldron for school. I will not purchase you another should you decide you prefer hippogriffs over unicorns."

Lyra pouted. "I really want this one."

A black-haired girl next to Draco nudged him, pointing at another cauldron. "Pick this one," she said. "It's like the ones daddy chose for me and Stephen."

Draco pulled the silver cauldron out from behind the others having not noticed it due to the store clutter after so many others had come in to shop. His eyes widened as the subtle swirl of ley serpents curled around the intricate silverwork. It was light, but it gave off a soft ringing sound when it hit the other cauldron—a pleasing bell-like tone. The cauldron's handle was fashioned in the arch of a dragon, its teeth holding the one side and its tail the other.

Draco brightened visibly. "You're the best, Ella!"

Lucius tutted, exchanging glances with Narcissa who only smiled at him rather smugly.

Lyra thumped the heavier silver cauldron with the unicorns on it on the counter, barely able to lift it without dropping it. "I want this one!"

Draco and Ella exchanged glances, shrugging.

"Use this one," a raven-haired boy snapped, slamming a less massive cauldron down in its place and banishing the other cauldron to the shelves with a blast of seemingly disgusted magic.

Lyra looked like she was going to cry, her lips pouting as her face fell with a nigh-audible crinkle.

The boy pointed to the cauldron where various animals danced across the etched surface including unic0rns, hippogriffs, flying horses, and even a wide variety of mythical beasts.

Lyra's eyes widened and she immediately glomped the other boy with an excited squeal. "You're the best, Stephen!"

The boy's lip curled in discomfort but he nodded briefly in acknowledgement.

"How are you doing, Narcissa," Hermione asked as she passed her a small basket of potions.

"Very well, Hermione," Narcissa said with a smile.

"Any reactions to the latest batch of vitamin potions?"

"No, I've been doing fine, truly," Narcissa said. She touched her abdomen with an indulgent smile. "You've been more than supportive of Lucius and I."

Hermione smiled. "It is nothing."

Narcissa shook her head adamantly. "I didn't treat you very well at first," she confessed. "I will regret that for the rest of my life."

"No regrets," Hermione said. "We are friends now, are we not?

Narcissa, who always managed to look so overwhelmingly proper at all times, nodded. "We are."

Hermione nodded. "Just be sure to take the prenatal vitamin potions every day until we are sure you're stable in a few months, then we can switch to the other formula."

"I will," Narcissa promised.

"I was sure my father's torture had ruined me for fathering any heirs," Lucius said to Severus as he paid for the school supplies. "I hope he's now rolling in his magic-less life out there in the Muggle world."

Severus gave a brief nod. "Me too. He did horrible things to both you and Narcissa. I am glad the effects proved to be treatable."

"You and your wife helped us both," Lucius said. "It is a debt I cannot ever hope to repay."

"It is not a debt, Lucius," Severus said. "You've done much for the Wizarding community since you escaped your father's yoke, and you've proven to many that just because countless generations of pureblood bigotry swims in your bloodline doesn't mean you have to follow it. That is payment enough to magic, so it is square with me."

Lucius closed his eyes, his hand stroking the top of his serpent cane thoughtfully. "I feel that the gods are no longer looking upon the Malfoys with the same scorn I used to feel whenever my father preached about the Old Ways. The shrine out there may be small, but it has brought me more peace than all the places my father would drag my mother and me."

"I am glad of it," Severus said, frowning as he kept Lyra from knocking over half of his store with a quickly cast spell.

Lucius scowled at his daughter. "What have I told you?"

The young witch winced. "Do not touch what isn't ours."

"And?"

"Be careful with the things you touch."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, and Lyra put back the things she was quite obviously "still touching."

The bell on the shop door tinkled as customers trailed in. A freckled red-headed young girl pushed along in first, dragging her dad by the finger. The mother brought up the rear, taking in everything around her with curious eyes.

"These are on the list!" the girl cried, heading directly to the section marked "professional cauldrons." The girl's expression turned into a frown when she seemed to find the professional cauldrons lacking. Her eyes rested on one of the ornate cauldrons with flowers in relief on the rim. "This one, daddy! I like this one!"

The man took the small parchment tag between his fingers and frowned. "That is a lot of money, love. Let's ask if there are student cauldrons."

"But I like this one!" the girl protested.

"Lily Emilia Jean Granger!" Her father's stern tone caused the other children in the shop to stiffen automatically.

Regulus, master of misdirection and the charming smile, walked out onto the floor. "Welcome to the Cloak and Pomegranate," he purred. "We have a fine selection of quality silver cauldrons for potions class, designed to be both lightweight and able to withstand a bit of abuse that comes with being moved around for classes. My name is Regulus. If you could walk this way, please?"

"But daddy, I want this one!" the girl pouted as her father pulled her away.

Severus' expression had changed from neutral to a sneer, and Lucius carefully redirected his friend so he would not murder his clientele or at the very least make a little girl cry inconsolably on her first day out.

The Portkey linking Diagon Alley with Hogsmeade had been a blessing for business in both places, opening up jobs for transporters and shippers as well as escorts for the Muggle families to get to and fro while purchasing supplies for school. Unfortunately, it also opened the stores up to more "dunderheaded" visitors from all walks of life, at least during the start of the school year when the escorts for the Muggle families were working to shuttle people from place to place.

"Only for another month, Severus," Lucius placated. "Then it's just the regular shipping crews and visitors."

Severus wrinkled his nose and sighed. "The beginning of the school season is always obnoxious," he said.

"But you are the best supplier of brewing accoutrement," Lucius said. "At least they are getting their supplies here. Slug and Jiggers always believed one type of cauldron was good enough for everyone, and I remember that poor Hufflepuff with the flowers in her hair that could barely lift the thing without someone helping her with a Leviosa."

"They have their specialities," Severus said. "At least we do not compete."

"They cater to a more simple crowd," Lucius said. "Standard fare. Which is fine, I'm sure, as you probably would rather those wanting wart removers and the like to stay in Diagon Alley."

Severus snorted. "Not that those seeking the Long Night Wizard's Tonic are any more glorious," he said with a sniff.

"You went laughing to the bank with that potion," Lucius chided. "The fact you made it to help Hermione's patients with that "blood pressure" thing she talks about only makes it even more amusing."

Severus rolled his eyes. "The healers get it for cost. For those wanting it for other reasons, well, they can pay for it."

Lucius waved him off. "Not judging you, Severus. I am just amused by it."

Severus shrugged. "Hermione finds satisfaction in helping the healing community, and considering who our master is, I'm sure the Wizarding World is quite thankful for that instead of her becoming some barmy recluse living on a mountaintop who eats random interlopers."

Lucius snorted. "I don't see her as the eating humanity type," she said. "For which I am grateful," he added. "She and Narcissa did not get on well at first."

Severus arched one brow. "Many a rabbit might have served up for dinner in the herd a few nights," he said. The corner of his mouth twitched.

Lucius waved his hand. "Not our best foot forward," he admitted. "We were used to only trusting ourselves. Family was not doing either of us any favours. Hers nor mine."

Severus nodded. "I do understand that aspect of family. All too well, I fear."

There were a few families out purchasing their cauldrons and starter supplies for Hogwarts in the shop, and Regulus was deftly wrapping and ringing them up with the brown paper marked with the distinctive Cloak and the Pomegranate logo. Most of the families were in and out pretty quickly, having no interest outside of supplying their children with the basic bundles they needed for school. Their shop did not carry any "frivolous" or "gimmick" potions or supplies like many other stores did to fill out their inventories or draw in the curious. Neither Severus nor Hermione had any interest in such drivel nor the drama of customers coming back claiming whatever it was didn't work as directed.

Severus' potions always worked as directed.

Whether the imbiber actually followed the directions, well, that was on them.

There was a loud crash in the store, and Severus whirled around with a patented scowl on his face. The young girl from earlier was up to her neck in a pile of toppled cauldrons from the display stack. The super shiny display cauldron from the peak of the stack went tumbling by Lucius and Severus with a ring, ting,

tinging sound."Lily!" Mrs Granger cried in distress.

"Lily!" Mr Granger said in a very disappointed tone.

"Miss Granger," Severus said with a deeply annoyed voice. "Unless you wish to purchase the entire store, I recommend that you stop while you're ahead."

The little redheaded girl looked like she was going to cry. She then stared up at Severus with very wide eyes. "You! You're the one in my dreams!"

Severus sneered. "Doubtful."

"We're very sorry for the mess, Mr—"

"Snape," Severus said, his black eyes narrowed.

"We'll cover whatever you require for damages," Mr Granger sighed, jerking his head sharply when his wife looked ready to protest.

Severus flicked his wand, and the mess righted itself back onto the shelf in front of the display window sans the gawky eleven-year-old interloper. "These are only our display items. They are not of the quality required for your daughter's potions class."

"We have prepackaged school supply sets available here with a standard student-grade cauldron that will more than adequately brew the highest quality potions that your child will be learning at Hogwarts. They are made to be sturdier than our professional and commercial-grade cauldrons for resistance to wear and tear due to the nature of the learning environment," Regulus said smoothly as he pointed to the shelves that were designated for school supplies. "Each comes with the full set of supplies recommended for the child's year in question and comes with our patented no-melt, anti-shock, anti-exploding enchantment on the cauldron, which is designed to withstand many of the mishaps caused by common mistakes in the brewing process. While they are not from our professional cauldron line and would not withstand the rigours of heavy high-end use, they are fully capable of withstanding all potions listed in the current Hogwarts curriculum. With proper care, the cauldron should last most children all the way through to N.E.W.T. level potions in their seventh year. As always, there is no guarantee that the cauldron will not suffer damage should it be abused or used in a manner it was not intended for."

Mr Granger seemed to be following along much better than his still-gawping daughter, and he grunted, "We'll take one of the first-year student packages, please."

Regulus had a student cauldron wrapped and packaged with a set of first-year supplies in a matter of seconds, and Mrs Granger seemed quite impressed by the casual show of magic. The young girl, however, was still eyeing up the coveted unicorn cauldron with nothing short of a puckered-lip disappointed expression.

The shop bell jingled as a moppy-haired man ushered his family into the store. His eleven-year-old son seemed like him in miniature save for his mother's dark brown eyes. The boy was already carrying a large owl cage with a rather disgruntled-looking snowy owl being jostled about inside.

"Master Snape," the man greeted Severus with a nod.

"Auror Potter," Severus responded with a curt nod.

"My eldest son, Harry, would like a cauldron," James said. "His mother would prefer that it be able to survive his somewhat limited attention span."

Severus sniffed at that. "While I do not claim to have a solution for those with a sadly addled attention span, the prepacked student bundles start over here. All of them are sufficiently enchanted to withstand the common child novices' lack of ability to follow even the clearest instructions."

James guffawed and nodded. "Good one. Marlene, did you want to help Harry find a nice cauldron?"

His wife took their son to the cauldrons and looked around carefully. "Remember to pick one that will serve you well and doesn't just look good, Harry," Marlene warned him. "Don't forget, the more ornate the cauldron, the harder it will be to clean."

Harry busied himself looking over the cauldrons, carefully lifting a few to see which ones he could easily handle and which he could barely lift at all. He eyed one cauldron with unicorns embossed upon it with a puckered expression, passing it by almost immediately.

"How about this one, Mum?" Harry asked, holding up the pewter cauldron from the section marked "standard size 2." Save for the handle being carved to resemble a stylised phoenix, it was quite plain in design.

"That one looks very nice, love," Marlene approved. "Please give it to the nice wizard at the counter and we can get your phials, scale, and potions book."

"We have the student packages wrapped up ready to go by year, ma'am," Regulus said with a smile. He pulled a package off the nearby shelf and placed it with the cauldron.

"Oh! How nice, thank you, Regulus," Marlene Potter said cheerfully. "What do we say, Harry?"

"Thank you, sir," Harry said obediently, pushing his round-framed glasses further up his nose.

Regulus smiled. "It is not a problem, young man," Regulus said as he took their galleons and neatly wrapped up the package, shrinking it down for easier transportation. "The shrinking charm will wear off when it is pulled out of your Hogwarts trunk for the first time, so be sure not to take it out before you get up to your dormitory, hrm?"

"I won't," Harry said with a smile. "Thank you, sir."

"You hear that they made that old cat, McGonagall, Headmaster of Hogwarts when Dumbledore came down with that bizarre case of Purple Spotted Crocagator Whooping Cough?" James asked Severus.

Severus lifted an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that nothing would ever get Dumbledore out of Hogwarts," he snorted.

"I think that was pretty much the plan until he started breaking out in pustulant purple boils and turned into a whooping crane with this bizarre reptilian tail," James said thoughtfully. "Old Moody had me researching any and all legal ways to get that senile old coot out of Hogwarts, but he was stuck in there tight as a ferret hiding from a starving hippogriff. If it hadn't been for that weird affliction, he'd still be there."

Severus rubbed his chin. "How terribly unfortunate for him," he said, venom dripping from each word.

"Remus has accepted a teaching position at Hogwarts, he's going to be the new professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts," James said after a while. "The old teacher is apparently retiring and moving to Sweden to raise those Rya sheep, the magical ones that they use the wool to weave magic carpets with. First wizard to retire from the position in a long time without meeting some sort of sticky end."

Severus nodded. "At least the curses, jinxes, and whatever else have finally been banished for good. Didn't they have you monitoring the school to make sure nothing odd started up again?"

"For a few years, yeah," James agreed. "We haven't had to in quite a while now. Moody was tired of sending his most experienced Aurors over there every other month just to have them report that nothing was going on. He didn't trust sending the younger ones. Paranoid old man."

"You're not paranoid if they are out to get you," Severus commented.

"Now you sound just like Sirius," James said with a sigh. "He's undercover as an Auror dog in the Netherlands, sniffing out both Muggle drugs and illegally trafficked reagents that are getting smuggled all around the world using Muggle ships and trucks."

"So, Black finally found his true calling, living a dog's life," Severus said dryly.

James wrinkled his nose. "He swore he'd make it permanent if it weren't for all the bloody fleas. He really does like being a dog."

Severus shook his head, hardly surprised.

"I want to send him a really special gift for his birthday," James said randomly.

"Do tell," Severus said, his expression utterly deadpan.

"Muggles have this thing. They wear a pendant that gives off a scent to produce various effects. Aromatherapy or some such term. Can you make one that constantly diffuses a flea treatment? Sirius says he's tried all the usual potions, but it makes him even itchier. Some ingredient or another doesn't seem to agree with him too much. That and the potion doesn't work if he shifts form, so then he's itchy and the potion doesn't work anymore. Thing is, he can't have it actually smell like anything. His job is all about that canine nose, yeah?"

Severus' brows knit together in thought. "I'll try to come up with something for him. You must really care for his itchy hide if you want me to custom design you an odourless flea repellent for a dog Animagus."

"He's an insufferable git at times, but—" James trailed off. "We've really been through a lot together. We could have easily ended up as Dark wizards on the run for life. Or been like—" He swallowed hard with obvious difficulty. "Like that sodding idiot, Peter. On the wrong side of an Auror's pet Kneazle. You know Azkaban has guard positions specifically for Animagi now? All because of Peter."

"Well, there wasn't really a niche for Animagi in the way of jobs before. I suppose that's starting to change now." Severus idly scratched the skin behind his ear with one fingernail.

"We've been cracking down on Animagus registrations because of it, too," James offered. "We caught this obnoxious gossipmonger-cum-reporter, Rita Skeeter, in our confidential file room awhile back. She was the rising star of the Prophet's frontline stories. She's in Azkaban now for having smuggled her way into the Minister's meetings with the Prime Minister in her beetle form. Got smacked by a butler who couldn't stand insects. Half-shifted in front of countless witnesses too. Then she used some sort of shady family magic to try and escape. I swear, I couldn't make this shite up."

"Who'd even want to," Severus huffed with a dismissive shake of the head.

"Weasleys have another son going to Hogwarts this year," James said with a wrinkle forming between his brows. "I don't know how Arthur keeps standing up. He works all the time, never gets a chance to rest—I just saw Molly over at Slug and Jiggers in Diagon buying a whole new set of cauldrons and supplies for all of them. I brought Harry here directly. I don't want Harry having to buy a new cauldron every month."

"With cauldrons, you don't always get what you pay for," Severus commented. "There are some very expensive yet utterly useless cauldrons out there. People will buy the expensive ones thinking it will brew the potion for them or somehow make their concentration better, but it's all such rot. All of my cauldrons are individually goblin-crafted whether they are made of the standard pewter or other higher-grade materials, and their quality and reputation are far above anything made by some cheap mass marketing process."

"Your reagents and herbs are all wildcrafted from the centaur herds around the world, yes?" Lucius asked.

"Many of them," Severus agreed, nodding. "It has allowed for a great deal of trade with the other herds and has gained Magorian's herd quite a bit of prestige globally."

"The Wizarding World has many assumptions of those that are not human or pureblood," Lucius observed. "Even Dumbledore was not immune to such things. He danced around being healed for well over a year solely because he held a grudge against Manfred Morgan?"

Severus' lip twitched as James winced at the mention of Manfred's name alone. "He does have a presence that is not easily ignored," Severus remarked neutrally, stifling a smirk.

James seemed to be fighting with some inner turmoil. "I had to do a lot of soul searching to be a good Auror. Not be judgmental. It's difficult. Moody thinks all who even look at a Dark spell are automatically condemned forever. Fixed and immutable. But I know it's not always that easy, and if I judge someone like that, then I'm a sodding hypocrite. I did some pretty horrible things as a young wizard that I'm not at all proud of, things that had I been judged solely over them back then, I wouldn't be here now. I'd be in Azkaban. No life. No penance. No chance at making things right. My parents would have disowned me. I'd never have had a chance at Marlene—and what kind of name would I have made for myself? So people could remember me solely as the Gryffindor toerag of Hogwarts? The boy who once kidnapped a witch by force and then dropped her from a bloody broom? No, I swore to myself that I'd never be that stupid again, and no child of mine is going to grow up with someone so horrid as a role model. Curse or no curse. I didn't want my name to be the Boy Who Was Cursed or some other such rot."

"Hey, Dad!" Harry said, eagerly tugging at the sleeve of James' robe. "Please, can we go look at that new broom in the window at Quality Quidditch Supplies?"

James smiled warmly. "Sure, son, but you know you can't have a broom your first year."

"Yeah, but we can look, right?" Harry said excitedly.

"Yes, we can look," Marlene said meaningfully. "With your eyes only, kiddo." She shot James a look.

James waved his hands in appeasement. "With our eyes. Yes. How looking is done correctly."

As James took Harry by the hand, nestling some of the packages in the crook of his other arm before rushing out of the store, Lucius and Severus exchanged significant glances.

The sound of children giggling in the back room as a rain of gobstones hit the floor betrayed exactly what they were up to, causing both fathers to shake their heads ruefully.

Narcissa's voice broke up the giggle fit with a stern, "Do not make a mess in Severus' shop, you lot."

A chorus of chastened children chimed, "Yes, mum," and C"Yes, Mrs Malfoy."

Severus groaned softly as his eyes opened, and he stared into the concerned eyes of his wife.

"Severus?" she said softly, her hand on his cheek. "Are you alright?"

Severus frowned as he looked around a bit dizzily. "Why am I on the floor of our shop?"

Hermione shook her head. "The Aurors said you just passed out."

Severus groaned again. "Aurors?"

"You alright, Snape?" Auror Potter was ruffling his hair with one hand. "We arrested that little ginger bint, Lily Granger. She was caught casting Dark magic in your shop. We can't tell what spell it was that she cast, though. Her wand exploded into dust. That's what is all over the floor."

"Dark magic in my shop?" Severus repeated.

"Whoa, boss, why are you on the floor?" Regulus said as he skidded around the corner with a box of potions he'd carried up from the storage cellar. "I didn't think you'd be up this early."

"I don't even remember how I got here," Severus said truthfully. He rubbed the skin between his eyes with a circular motion.

"We've been tracing hints of Dark magic. Olde magic. The kind of stuff that is pretty hard to trace, usually," James said with a frown. "I wasn't going to be here at Hogsmeade this early, but something literally bit me on the arse this morning and woke me up."

A ley tendril looked mighty fishy as it slinked into the storeroom.

"Kids okay?" Severus mumbled, frowning.

"Safe at Hogwarts," Hermione assured him.

Severus let out a slow breath in sheer relief. "I had the strangest dream. There was a terrible war. Tom Riddle was never defeated. Hades never took back his Hallows—" He looked at James Potter with a frown. "You were dead. You and your wife. Harry kept almost getting himself killed all the time. I hated him. Hated you. Hated myself." He rubbed his temples.

"That sounds like an awful lot of hate to be carrying around, boss," Regulus observed as he helped him up. Severus nodded to him gratefully as Hermione then pounced him as a forty-seven stone prehistoric cat and purr-smooshed him into the wood floor, a cloud of blue and green vapour trickling out her mouth as ley tendrils moved out from her mane of hair and zapping him.

"I'm fine!" he protested, hugging her huge feline head as her long whiskers tickled his skin.

"Looks okay to me," Moody grunted from the doorway. He trudged in as he sipped from an oversized mug of coffee with "I'm not yelling, I'm Scottish" written on it. He sniffed after a while, seemingly more awake with a good hit of caffeine. "That ruddy witch has been a bit unhinged ever since she first hit Hogwarts. Claimed this world was all wrong. She was supposed to be someone else. They thought she might have the Seer's gift, but turned out the chit was just barking mad."

"Minerva said she was a talented young witch in class, but she was constantly asking Slughorn about you and Hermione and she would stare at Harry Potter and call him James." Alastor used his wand to cast a few more tracing spells in the shop while the signatures were still fresh, sending a strand of his memories into a vial and dropping it into a bag. We'd catch hints of something Dark here and there, but it was never enough to trace it to a specific person. Was more like childish wish magic than deliberate, willful magic. But something a little different happened here this morning. Something more sinister, but it still doesn't trace very well."

"I think you should go to the clinic and get yourself checked out, Severus," James said after a bit. "Just so we have everything on record."

Severus sighed as Hermione's head wedged under his chin. "Very well-GAH!"

Hermione had him by the scruff of his robes and was drag-walking him under her like a prey animal, hauling him off towards the clinic with all due haste.

"Let me walk, woman!" Severus complained. "I can still walk by myself!"

Regulus had somehow managed to both acquire and pour tea in the span of a few seconds. "Tea while you wait?"

"Bless you," James sighed fervently as he cradled the warm cup in his hands.

Alastor sipped from his coffee mug. "So, Potter, do you think your Animagus form would last against her?"

James' eyes widened at the thought and he shuddered in instinctive response. "That's a whole lot of no, sir. We all used to think she was just Severus' familiar. We also thought she'd far rather eat us than tolerate us."

Moody snorted in amusement. "You're just lucky you can remember she's a giant cat. Severus told me the day you fumbled up to him asking if you could ask her out on a date while she was standing right there beside him."

James groaned at the memory. "Not really my best moment, okay? I wasn't exactly in my right mind the first time I saw her shift into a giant kitty cat and attempt to rip off my face."

Moody shook his head, smirking at the younger wizard's discomfort. "I'm sure you remember now."

Potter closed his eyes. "I remember him too," James said with a grimness that wrinkled his face. "Whoever this Lily Granger is, she was fool enough to stand between the ley-born, the Hades blessed, and wrath of a witch and a wizard who have been and will always be meant to stand at each other's sides until the sea swallows all. If the wrath of magic itself isn't enough to punish her, Hades may call upon the Erinyes to visit her personally during Her Majesty's pleasure."

Alastor grunted as he took one of the unclaimed teacups and down the tea after his coffee. "I think you're finally an Auror, boy."

James sighed. "Just now? Thirteen-some years later?"

"Takes more time for some than others," Moody said, drinking his tea.

"What about Sirius?" James complained.

"He'll be a real Auror when he stops being a dog," Moody said, deadpan.

"Physically or—" James began then thought better of it. "Nevermind."

"Lily Emilia Jean Granger," the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot said sombrely. "For the use of forbidden Dark blood magic that sent ripples throughout time and space and caused irreversible changes in our timestream that are both known and yet unknown, we sentence you to be branded as a Dark witch and sent to Azkaban, guarded by Dementors, Aurors, and Animagi, for the term of two lifetime sentences or until your death, whichever happens first."

"NO! This isn't RIGHT! This isn't FAIR!" Lily screamed as she was forced into a containment cage at wandpoint.

"Should you even attempt to escape at any point during your sentence, you will be sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss. Your crimes against the fabric of magic and time has marked you as a grave danger to yourself and all magical folk, and you will given the waters of Lethe and Obliviated of any—"

"NO!" Lily screamed. "I was just setting things RIGHT! This isn't how it's SUPPOSED to be!"

Her magic flared wildly, crackling through her hair and her body. "DUMBLEDORE will tell you! We ALL fight for the Order of the Phoenix! Tell them, James! TELL THEM, my love! Tell them the TRUTH!"

Ley tendrils were gathering all around the cage, glowing brighter and brighter. They manifested, dripping with magical power as they arced together, sizzling bolts of raw energy ripping back and forth. The Wizengamot gasped as they witnessed the incredible display, having never seen them physically show themselves before. The tendrils whispered and hissed amongst each other, the sound of many whispers overlapping and going forwards, backwards, and all things in between.

The tendrils merged together into a large, serpentine bolt and shot into Lily Granger's body as a bright, overwhelming light filled the room along with Lily's shrill screams. The gathered closed their eyes, wincing, trying to both cover their eyes and their ears at the same time.

The room went black as a moonless night with only the sound of crackling energy sounding in the darkness before even it, too, went silent.

When the members of the Wizengamot finally recovered their senses, all that remained where Lily Granger had been was a ridiculously tiny creature, the supposedly imaginary creature known as the Crumple-Horned Snorkack in a vivid fluorescent green .

"They DO exist!" Xenophilius cried out in glee from the seats.

"I always imagined them to be somewhat larger," one of the Wizengamot members murmured thoughtfully.

The Chief Warlock seemed torn between the formal sentencing and just sitting down and drinking his tea. "Magic itself has passed judgement, and that judgement will be honoured. Lily Emilia Jean Granger will be transferred to Azkaban just as soon as suitable containment can be arranged. Thank you, most honourable members of the Wizengamot, for your service here today. Court is adjourned."

Hermione awoke suddenly, startled from a nightmare where her entire life had been turned upside down and she had been on the run from Dark Wizards, only the centaur weren't family, and the leys' song fell upon deaf ears as they begged in vain for relief.

A ley tendril bonked her lightly on the nose, a small curious thought entering her mind. She reached out a hand and soothed it, relieved to see it safe and real.

Her mate's wings wrapped snugly around her, pulling her into his warmth, and she meeped as the soothing comfort of his body lulled the disturbing thoughts of her nightmares, sending them into Oblivion. The curious ley tendril curled itself around her neck, obviously convinced that she needed a bit more comfort, and Hermione's eyes drifted closed in that blissfully familiar warmth.

"I love you," she whispered, both to magic and her mate.

"I love you, too," Severus whispered into her mane of curls. "Always."

The leys sang in contentment, singing the pair to sleep once more, safe in the tendrils of magic.

All was as it should be.

Fin.

A/N: And so ends Barely, where magic was finally tired of playing second fiddle to human stupidity! I hope you enjoyed the story. Please thank Dragon and the Rose for staying up and resisting the siren call of the pillow.

Dragon wanted to turn Lily into a ginger spider monkey or a sea pig this time around, but I figured being stared at and poked by Xenophilius for the rest of her life would be its own kind of torture. Merlin knows I wouldn't want to be poked and prodded by Xenophilius Lovegood every day of my life. XD

Now, I'm going to curl up in a warm blanket and pretend it's Walter, and sleep the sleep of the Righteous and Overworked.