Dastardly Schemes and Drastic Measures

Just Lie Back and Think of Switzerland ...

"No!" Hermione Granger cried as she opened the envelope. "No, no, no, no, no," she moaned, pulling out the envelope's contents and frowning over them.

With a sigh, she pulled a fresh sheet of parchment out of a desk drawer and scribbled a quick note on it. Rolling it up, she beckoned the owl that had just delivered the first message over and gave it a beseeching look.

"Will you please take this to Hogwarts?" she asked. "I know it's a bit out of your way, but I know Albus Dumbledore will give you a sweet if you do." Looking at the bird hopefully, she was gratified when it held out a leg with what could only be described as a look of resignation on its face. "Oh, thank you," she told the owl politely.

Hooting noncommittally, it flew out the open window. Hermione returned to perusing her latest missive with dismay.

"Please," a male voice said from her fireplace. "Please tell me this is some sort of joke."

Not even bothering to look up, she waved her hand at a nearby chair. "You can come on through, Severus," she said. "And I expect not, as I got one as well."

Severus Snape fell out of her fireplace with only a small thud, dusting soot distastefully off his robes. "Your fireplace is filthy," he said, flinging himself into the chair in question.

"Discourages Ministry visits," she replied, looking up to grin at him. "How are you today, Severus?"

"Invited to the Weasley wedding event of the year, as it seems," he said, holding up his invitation. "For reasons quite beyond my scope. How are you?"

She threw her own invitation on the desk with a grunt and began twirling a quill in her fingers absently. "I've had better days, to be honest. But I wouldn't worry about the wedding much--I'm taking care of it."

"Oh, I'm not worried," he said blandly, propping his feet familiarly on her desk. "I have no intention of attending. I just wonder why on Earth Ginny Weasley wants me at her wedding."

Frowning at his feet, she stood up and made her way around the desk toward the tea things sitting on the hearth. "I think it has something to do with the fact that you brought them together in the first place. Tea?"

"I did no such thing," he said with a scowl. "And yes, tea would be nice."

"I can ring up Twinkly for some biscuits, if you'd like," she said, sitting the kettle on a stand in the flames. "And yes, you did."

"Biscuits would do," Severus conceded, removing his feet from her desk so that he could turn and properly scowl at her. "But to return to the subject at hand, all I recall doing to those two was assigning them both a rather nasty detention after they managed to set each other on fire during one of my more dismal lectures."

"And if you'd ever bothered to notice," she replied, "they've been inseparable ever since. Ginny told me ages ago that if you hadn't basically locked them up in the same room for a night, she and Colin would never have come to an ... understanding."

If anything, the scowl deepened. "You mean started shagging like rabbits."

"How romantic of you, Severus," she retorted tartly, ringing the bell for the resident house elf.

"Yes, Miss," a tiny voice squeaked from somewhere around Severus' kneecaps. "Is Miss wanting something?"

Hermione smiled down at the long-eared elf. "Yes, Twinkly. Would you mind bringing up a few of those biscuits you were baking this morning for the professor and myself, please?"

"Of course, Miss," Twinkly piped. "Biscuits for Miss and Miss' professor. Is Miss' professor needing anything else?"

Taken off guard, Severus did not reply instantly. But after a few moments of expectant silence, he managed to look down at Twinkly and give her what passed for an encouraging look. "No, thank you, Twinkly. That will be all."

"Yes, Miss' professor." And with a crack, she was gone.

Hermione smiled at the obviously disconcerted Severus sweetly. "Shut up," he said preemptively.

"What?" she asked innocently. "I didn't say anything ... Miss' professor."

"Would you like to find Veritaserum in your morning tea the next time you're at Hogwarts?" he asked in a deceptive tone. As she shook her head, still grinning at him, he apparently decided to change the subject. "I never thought I'd see you coping with a house elf, of all people. Not after all the fuss you pitched at Hogwarts about them. You were practically a permanent bullet on the agenda for faculty meetings, you know."

"I didn't have the heart to talk to her about it," Hermione admitted. "She started crying when I offered to pay her and promised to do a better job. I think it might undo her permanently if I offered her clothes."

"Not to mention that she's bound to the house," Severus said. "Not to you. If you freed her, she would still have to stay here."

She shrugged. "I doubt I'll be here much longer. I'm sure Albus will pull us all back into the Headquarters before long."

"He persists with the delusion that the Order is one big, happy family," he said with a grimace. "I'm sure Albus sees himself as the grand patriarch, presiding over a clan of rollicking grandchildren."

"Eurgh," she replied, shuddering. "That would mean I was related to Draco Malfoy." Taking the kettle off the fire, she poured steaming water into a nearby teapot.

Sighing, Severus picked up the two cups on the table and cast a Cleansing Charm on them. "Some of us are, you know. Much to our eternal chagrin."

"I saw that, Severus Snape," she cried. "Those cups were perfectly clean, I'll have you know."

He sat them back down and gave her an unrepentant stare. "You do get awfully wrapped up in work sometimes."

Their banter continued as Hermione poured tea and Twinkly returned with a plateful of biscuits and another one of sandwiches. "Just in case Miss' professor gets hungry," she'd said. He'd ignored Hermione's laughter as he picked one up and pronounced it edible.

They were discussing the developments in the Johanssen case when an owl flew in through the window and landed on Hermione's desk with a little chirp.

"Well, that was fast," she said, untying the note on the bird's leg.

"What was fast?" Severus asked, draining the last of his tea and leaning forward.

Ignoring his question, she unrolled the parchment and scanned it, face falling. "Damn him," she cried with conviction. "That horrible old bastard!"

"I'm fairly certain Albus' parents were happily married when he was born, if that's who you're talking about. And it usually is," Severus said dryly. "What has happened?"

"Here," she said angrily, thrusting the note under his nose. "Read this!"

Eyebrows raised, he complied. "My dear Hermione," he read out loud. "I'm afraid that I cannot spare my Potions master next weekend. Your reconnaissance mission will simply have to be put off longer. I would not worry much on it as Johanssen is not likely to fly the coop any time soon. Albus. Oh ... and there's a postscript. P.S. The wedding is sure to be lovely, isn't it? Shame I can't stay for all of it myself." Severus frowned at the parchment in his hands. "I hate him. That was your plan for getting out of the wedding? That was it?"

"What d'you mean, 'that was it?'" she mimicked crossly. "It was perfect! Ginny couldn't have possibly expected me to be at her wedding when I had to go chase down a horrible Death Eater. That's practically ironclad! Damn Albus."

With a shrug, he handed the letter back to her. On impulse, she set the missive on fire with a single word, watching it burn with relish. "I thought you liked Ginny Weasley," he said cautiously.

"I like her well enough," she replied. "But everyone will be mad with this wedding nonsense. What's more, I can't think of a tactful way to explain to Molly Weasley that spending the weekend at the Burrow would drive me out of my mind."

"I did wonder at that note on the back of the invitation," Severus said. "I couldn't figure out why they would extend that sort of familiarity to guests they were inviting only a week before the actual ceremony."

Sighing, she bit into a sandwich and chewed heavily. "I'm sure all of Colin's relatives have the Muggle hotel in town booked up," she said after swallowing. "And I know they wanted to keep it small, so Molly probably thought they could fit all of the wizarding relatives at the Burrow. They probably can, if people don't mind sharing beds."

"Sharing beds?" he asked with something akin to horror. "I'm certainly glad I'm not going, then."

"What do you mean, you're not going?" she asked heatedly.

He brushed a few crumbs off his robes and cocked an eyebrow at her. "I have no particular attachment to either the bride or groom and I have no intention of potentially sharing a bed with a Weasley. My invitation was perfunctory at best, Hermione."

"Oh, no," she said, coming out of her chair to loom over him as dangerously as she could manage. "You're not going to abandon me to an entire house full of Weasleys, are you?"

"That was my plan, yes," he responded absently. "You're the brilliant Auror, you know. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"If I've got to go, then I'll be damned if I'm going to endure it alone," she nearly spat.

Severus contrived to look innocent. "I thought you enjoyed the company of these people."

"For a meal, yes," she said. "For an afternoon, certainly. But I've lived with them before and the entire clan yelling at each other is enough to drive me deaf and batty at the same time. I'm not going to do it alone."

He smirked. "It seems to me that you are, as Albus has all but ordered you to go."

"I'm sure that order stands for all invited parties," she told him, crossing her arms over her chest in victory.

"I'm not the one who sent him a thinly veiled plea to get out of it, though," Severus reminded her, crossing his arms in kind. "And besides, Albus doesn't expect me to be sociable." Check and mate.

Or was it?

Thinking quickly, Hermione switched tactics, leaning down toward him. Their noses were almost touching. And she smiled. Deviously. "Hey, Severus?" she began sweetly.

"Yes?" he asked, clearly nervous. He was familiar with this behavior in passing and it never boded well.

"If you don't go to the wedding, Severus," she said in a dangerous tone, "I'll tell Albus about what happened in Switzerland."

Discomfited, he actually shrank a little in his chair, causing Hermione's smile to turn into a smirk. "Switzerland?" he echoed uncomfortably.

She leaned in even closer. "Everything," she hissed. "The cat, too, Severus."

His eyes narrowed and he sat up straighter. "You wouldn't dare," he replied calmly, the apprehension in his eyes contradicting his even tone.

"Care to take odds on that?" she asked, smirk widening.

With a sigh, he folded, arms dropping to his sides and head lowering. "I'll go," he said reluctantly. "But don't expect me to be happy about it."

"Oh, I don't expect you to be happy about anything, Severus," she said playfully. "And we'll have to go to France the weekend after, you know."

"Johanssen," he sighed, reaching around her to take another biscuit. "At least he's one of the more indolent Death Eaters. It shouldn't be particularly difficult."

"I wish I could share your optimism," she replied, taking a biscuit in kind and watching him chew on his thoughtfully. "Remember what happened in Paris last year? That was supposed to be a routine one as well."

Shrugging, he swallowed. "How was I to know that he kept a spare wand?"

"I thought you were the spy. I'm just the muscle in this outfit," she teased. "You're supposed to be the brains."

"Wench."

Hermione grinned at his glare, perching on a corner of her desk. "Bastard."

-- -- -- -- --

"Hermione!" Ginny Weasley cried enthusiastically as she ushered one of her closest friends in the front door of the Burrow. "I'm so glad you could come."

"Ginny," Hermione replied, somewhat less enthusiastically. "It's good to see you. How's Colin?"

Smiling, Ginny gave her a conspiratorial wink. "Mum is insisting that he stays over at the hotel with his family instead of here with me. Never mind that we've shared a flat for more than four years. Mum wants to do this whole wedding right. I've got the white dress, the bouquet, even a flower girl."

"A flower girl, huh?"

"One of Colin's cousins has a daughter," she explained. "And she's just as cute as she can be in her little dress. So ... how are you?"

Hermione blinked at the sudden change in conversation. "Erm ... fine," she managed. "Same old, same old."

"Still chasing down baddies with our dearest professor, are we?" Ginny asked teasingly. "How is old Snape, anyway?"

"He's still Snape," she said with a grin. "But you'll see for yourself."

Ginny's eyes opened wide. "You mean he's coming! Mum didn't tell me. Colin and I sent him an invitation as a joke, really. We never thought he'd actually respond. I'm glad that he's coming, of course, though."

Hermione lifted an eyebrow. "He thought it was a joke. How gratified he'll be to learn he was right."

"Oh, not a joke like that!" Ginny cried. "I hope we didn't hurt his feelings ..."

"Good Lord, Ginny," Hermione exclaimed. "Of course not! He just couldn't understand why you would invite him."

A loud voice booming from the staircase interrupted their conversation. "Is that our Hermione?" it cried.

Looking up, she grinned as the figure came dashing down the stairs. "Hey, Harry," she said. "How's it going?"

"Swimmingly, of course," a beaming Harry Potter replied, sweeping her up in a tight embrace. "And you're looking characteristically lovely."

"Are you blind?" Hermione asked as he sat her back on her feet. "My hair's probably standing on end and I've been wearing the same clothes for at least two days and I know I've got a pimple on my forehead the size of London."

"I never said you smelled lovely," he replied with a smirk, accepting the inevitable smack on his arm with good graces. "Seriously, though," he continued. "How are you? It's been ages since I've seen you."

Shaking her head at his exuberance, she allowed him to take her bag and followed him up the stairs. "Try since the last Order meeting, wonderboy," she said. "And I'm fine."

"You and our dearest Snape catch anyone interesting lately?" he asked, reaching the top of the staircase.

"We're going after Johanssen next weekend," she replied. "And I've got a few leads on Wormtail that might be worth checking out. So ... do you happen to know where I'm staying?"

With an even wider grin, he pushed open the first door on the right side of the hall. "With me," he said. "Molly knew I'd protect your honor, I'm sure."

"It's probably the other way around," she said with a laugh. "Unless she somehow didn't invite Malfoy?"

Harry dropped her bag on the bed in what appeared to be Percy's old room, joining in her laughter. "No, Draco's here," he said. "She's drafted all of us men into setting everything up for the rehearsal dinner in the backyard. I just ran up here for a minute to use the loo and heard your lovely voice. In fact, I'm sure Draco's wondering where I've gotten off to."

"I always know where you've gotten to," came Draco Malfoy's unmistakable drawl from the doorway. "But I was beginning to wonder if the toilet had managed to eat you or something. Hey, Granger--has a rat died on your face, or have you just gotten uglier?"

She smirked. "You used to be more intelligent, Malfoy. There wasn't a single insult in there with more than two syllables."

They locked glares for a few moments before bursting into laughter. Draco strode forward and gave Hermione a brisk hug. "How are you, Granger?" he asked her with a genuine smile.

"I'm fine, Malfoy," she replied. "How about you?"

"No complaints," he said, tucking some hair behind his ear. "I'm finding life as a kept man to be quite enjoyable. And the sex is incredible."

Groaning, she stepped away from him and sat down on the bed. "Please," she said with a grimace. "I don't want to hear about it."

"Yes, Hermione," Draco teased. "Harry here has sex on occasion," he said with deliberately wide eyes. "With me, even." After a pause, "Well ... not on occasion. I'd have to say more like--"

"Draco!" she cried. "No details!"

Here, Harry finally broke in, placing a comfortable arm around his lover's waist. "I have to agree with her here, Draco," he said, resting his chin familiarly on his shoulder. "Details are for me only."

She rolled her eyes. "You two are so cute I think I'm going to throw up."

"You just wait until you fall in love, Granger," Draco threatened, kissing Harry's cheek for good measure. "I bet you'll be a pile of mush. And I'll make sure to give you hell constantly."

"Don't you already do that?" she asked, standing up. "I should get back downstairs, I suppose. Do you two know who else is here?"

With a quick headshake, Draco stepped away from the door to let her pass. "Not everyone," he said. "Weasel isn't here, but his wife said he couldn't get away from work until later. But other than that, I think Ginny's family is all accounted for."

She walked down the stairs quickly, intending to keep an eye out for Severus. Draco would have mentioned if he was already here. And besides, she had every intention of going over to Hogwarts and dragging him kicking and screaming if she had to. There was no way she was going to let Molly Weasley coddle her and cluck over her lack of a love life or respectable job for an entire weekend alone.

"I think I'm going to hang out here," she told the two men, hovering by the front door. "Just in case someone else comes in."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Are you expecting someone?"

"No ..." she tried.

"You know, Granger, for an Auror, you're a terminally shitty liar," Draco said.

"He's right, Hermione," Harry chimed in. "Spill."

Glowering, she crossed her arms. "Do you two ever argue about anything any more? What happened to screaming at each other in Order meetings and throwing hexes in the hallways?"

"We still do a fair amount of that," Draco replied blandly. "We're both in exceptionally good moods today. But you're not worming out of this one like that. Now come on--who are you expecting?"

Hanging her head and letting her hair fall in her eyes like a protective curtain, she allowed herself to mumble, "Severus."

"What was that, Hermione?" Harry asked. "We didn't hear you ..."

"You bleeding asshole," she muttered, glaring at Harry through her hair screen. "Severus," she repeated loudly and firmly. "I bullied him into coming, okay?"

"Severus?" Draco echoed. "Was he invited?"

Harry elbowed him. "Of course he was," he said. "Most of the Order was and besides, he's the one who got Colin and Ginny together."

"Intentionally?" This was accompanied by a skeptical look.

"Decidedly not," a voice said from the other side of the door. "And if you are going to discuss my business," it continued dryly, "you might do it in a set of tones that the entire neighborhood won't hear."

Grinning, Draco threw the door open and embraced a rather startled Severus. "Why, Uncle Severus," he gushed. "How good of you to come."

"Get away from me, you poncey prat," he snarled. "And don't call me that--I'm not your uncle!"

"Second cousins are as good as uncles to Malfoys," Draco replied. "Besides, I like pissing you off."

Ignoring him, Severus turned to Hermione. "Well ... I'm here," he said despondently. "Can I leave now?"

"Switzerland, Severus," she reminded him sweetly.

"I hate you," he said with conviction.

"Well ... is everyone here, then?" Harry asked, glancing back and forth between a glowering Severus and a smirking Hermione. "Only I'm sure we ought to get back to the party. They're done setting up, probably."

"I'll take your bags up to the room, Uncle Severus," Draco said. "Mrs. Weasley told me where you are."

Grunting, Severus simply brushed past them and walked briskly toward the backyard. Hermione recognized this as his "Let's get this over with, then" walk and heartily echoed the sentiment.

-- -- -- -- --

She wanted to scream. What sort of god had she infuriated to wind up in this predicament? Sandwiched in between Draco Malfoy, who was doing his best 'simpering pansy' impression this evening for reasons only he could fathom, and Molly Weasley, who had already tried to introduce Hermione to at least four Weasley cousins of varying ages and temperaments and managed to insult her career choice no less than a dozen times.

"I could have been an Auror, you know," she was currently saying.

Here came insult thirteen, Hermione was sure.

"But I was so eager to get married and start a family," Molly continued, ignorant of Hermione's clenched jaw and grinding teeth. "That's important to some people."

"Is it?" Hermione managed to grate out.

Either oblivious or uncaring, she plunged forward. "I was so happy to hear that Albus had offered you a job teaching Arithmancy, my dear," she said.

Sighing, she refrained from banging her head against the table with great effort. "I turned him down," she reminded Molly for the fourth time that evening.

"Yes, dear," she said. "I was sorry to hear that. Teaching is such a noble profession and some people consider it a great sacrifice."

"I hate children," Hermione said flatly. "Very nearly without exception."

Startled, Molly retreated somewhat. "Ah, yes," she said, disconcerted. Apparently unable to formulate a response, she turned to her left and engaged Mrs. Creevey--Colin's mother--in earnest conversation and Hermione heaved a great sigh of relief.

Halfway down the table, Severus caught her eye and sent her a glower reminiscent of her childhood potions classes. She willed his cloak to burst into flames and was not pleased when it refrained from doing so. Although she was happy to note that Severus appeared to be sitting in between a bubbling Dennis Creevey and what appeared to be the flower girl (somewhere in the neighborhood of seven years old and eagerly chattering to a pained Severus).

"So, Hermione," Draco said in a voice dripping with false cheer. "I was just telling Colin here about your work."

"Do you really work with Snape?" Colin asked breathlessly. "Is he as hateful as he was in class?"

"Only mostly," she replied absently, watching the flower girl actually tug impatiently on Severus' robe sleeve to regain his attention. "Sometimes he's worse. But only when we've been captured or when someone is threatening to kill us."

Colin's eyes widened. "I don't know how you can do it," he said.

Now the flower girl was trying to take something off Severus' plate--Hermione hoped fervently that he wouldn't hex her. "I am a fully-trained Auror, you know," she chided.

Her attention was taken off Severus and the stupidly persistent flower girl as Ron Weasley strode into the yard, smiling as he greeted his baby sister with a hug. "How's the bride?" he asked cheerfully.

"Wondering why you're so late," Ginny replied, pecking his cheek. "But I think I'll forgive you by the end of it all."

"Oi, Colin," Ron bellowed, "are you sure you want to be marrying this little brat? She's awfully bossy!"

"And loud!" Fred Weasley shouted from the other end of the table.

"And she's got six terrifyingly overprotective brothers," Charlie Weasley cried from his seat across from Severus.

"In fact," George Weasley concluded, standing. "You might just be better off to break it off."

The entire table, Severus notably excluded, erupted into laughter as Colin blushed purple.

"Don't listen to them," Ginny told Colin, walking over to kiss the top of his head and put a hand on his shoulder. "They know I'll hex each one of them into tomorrow if they don't knock it off."

"She already tried it when I started making arrangements for the stag party," Ron said conversationally as he dropped into an empty seat beside his wife, Susan.

"Stag party?" Harry asked.

"Oh, like you'd be interested," Ron retorted, piling a plate high with food. "Female strippers only, mate."

Harry contrived to look hurt. "Stag parties mean free alcohol, you know. And besides, why didn't you tell me about it?"

"There isn't one," Fred said by way of response. "Colin said he 'doesn't need one,'" he mimicked in a falsetto.

Something in Ginny's face melted. "You did?" she asked a continually blushing Colin. "How sweet!"

"How smart," Draco commented in Hermione's right ear. "I'll bet ... yes, there they go!"

Sure enough, Ginny leaned down and kissed her fiancé with gusto. Glancing down the table again, Hermione rolled her eyes in agreement at Severus, who was looking rather disgusted with the scene.

"I think that about does it for me," she said, standing suddenly. &ldqo;Supper was great, though, Molly. That chocolate cake was nothing short of spectacular."

"Thank you, dear," Molly said shortly, still chatting with Colin's mother.

Hermione moved down the table, nodding at her acquaintances and exchanging one last smirk with Severus.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron cried as he caught sight of her. "Long time no see."

"Ron," she said, giving him a one-armed embrace as she passed by his head. "How are you and Susan doing?"

Ron grinned and patted his wife's hand. "Due in January."

"Really?" she asked, rather surprised. "That's ... that's great. Really great, Ron."

"Yeah," he said. "We're thrilled. And Mum's over the moon."

"I can imagine," she replied dryly.

Chuckling, Ron took a long draught of his water. "I saw that you were sitting beside her tonight. What was it this time?"

"The usual," she said with a little shrug. "I think she tried to set me up with your accountant cousin, though. Apparently we have so much in common that she just had to introduce us."

"Ouch," he said, wincing. "Well ... Mum means well, at any rate."

"I'm sure Hitler did, too," she said. "I'm headed back inside, Ron. But make sure you fix the seating at the reception tomorrow so that we're at the same table. It would be nice to catch up a bit."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Good night, then, Hermione."

"Night, Ron."

She was almost through the back door--almost free, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning around, Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as she looked up into Harry's face. "Harry?"

"Hey," he said. "I wanted to ask you something."

Confused, she was sure he could read it in her features. "What?"

Suddenly shy, Harry's cheeks reddened. "Well ... I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind if I swapped out with Draco's roommate. Molly has these old-fashioned ideas and--"

"Who is he?" she asked with trepidation. "I'm not sharing a bed with someone I've never met before, Harry."

The blush deepened. "I don't remember," he admitted. "But Draco said he knew you wouldn't mind. It's someone you know, I just can't recall the name."

Suspicious, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Harry ..." she warned.

"Please," he pleaded, eyes wide. "It's just for a night, Hermione."

She blew out a sigh. "Oh for cripes' sakes, Harry, of course. If it means that much to you."

He patted her shoulder. "Thanks, Hermione. You're fabulous."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, flapping a hand at him. "Now quit grinning at me, you flaming fairy, before I change my mind."

-- -- -- -- --

Severus had descended into the sixth circle of hell at least. When Hermione had literally blackmailed him into attending this debacle, she hadn't mentioned that enduring the company of twittering children would be a part of it.

Her name was Brittany. Brittany Harmony Creevey. She was six-and-three-quarters years old. Her favorite food was chips and her favorite television show was some horrendous cartoon that she insisted on describing in ornate detail. Mrs. Anderson was her teacher at school and she was just the bestest teacher in creation.

The child went on and on. It was as if her jaw was this awful hinge that never closed. Just bobbed open and shut continuously.

If he had to sit here any longer, he was going to go into sugar shock.

And then the horrible little brat actually reached up and stole the last biscuit off his plate. Stole it, crammed it into her mouth, and beamed at him, as if he was supposed to praise her larceny.

He was her bestest new friend, apparently. She'd told him so. At great length.

Trying desperately not to scream (or put a Silencing Hex on her), Severus looked up and down the table, seeing Weasley after Weasley, with a handful of Creeveys thrown in to spare. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

And here came the worst Weasley. Striding in as if he owned the place, teasing his sister, and just generally jumping up and down on Severus' last nerve.

The only thing that made the boy bearable was the fact that he owed Severus a massive Life Debt. During his sixth year, the brat had been caught trying to sneak into Malfoy Manor after Potter. Severus had managed to pull them both out and just as they were taking a Portkey back to Hogwarts, he'd shoved Weasley out of the way of one of Lestrange's Killing Curses. Weasley had spat out expletives Severus had never heard in his entire life upon realizing what had happened. They never mentioned the Life Debt, of course, but it hung over Weasley's head--it had to--like an unwanted stone.

Watching Ginny Weasley all but shove her tongue down Colin Creevey's throat, Severus exchanged sardonic glances with Hermione and monitored her slow retreat from the dinner party, smirking to himself as she was waylaid by Weasley after Weasley, ending in a little parlay with Potter (which Potter appeared to win).

About half an hour after Hermione's disappearance, Severus decided that he'd had enough of Miss Brittany Harmony Creevey and deserted her without so much as a farewell, cutting off her elaborate description of the lace on her dress as he abruptly stood.

He was nearly halfway across the yard (and that much further away from young Brittany) when he all but ran into a smirking Draco. "What do you want?" he asked tiredly.

"Uncle Severus ..." Draco began with a smarmy grin.

"I'm not your uncle, Draco," he reminded him.

Shaking his head, Draco put a hand on his shoulder. "But 'Second Cousin Severus' sounds so impersonal."

"I repeat--what do you want?"

"I want Harry and you to swap beds," Draco said rather flatly.

Severus was taken aback. "What?" he asked, startled.

Sighing, he tightened his hand on Severus' shoulder. "Did I stutter? Look ... Molly Weasley has antiquated ideas about unmarried couples sharing rooms, but Harry said his roommate would swap out with you so that Harry and I can spend the night together."

"No," he said. "I'm not going to share a bed with a perfect stranger, Draco."

"But you know Harry's roommate," he said quickly.

"Oh, yes?" Severus asked slyly. "Then who is he?"

Apparently thinking quickly, Draco did what he did best and improvised. "I don't remember," he said.

"You don't remember?" he echoed incredulously.

"Nope," he said guilelessly. "But I do know that Harry said his roommate said it would be fine. So ... how about it, Uncle Sev?"

"Uncle Sev?" Severus asked, distaste evident in his voice.

"It's just for one night," Draco wheedled. "First door on the right after the first staircase."

Feeling as if he'd been tricked and not knowing exactly how Draco had managed it, Severus conceded. "Oh, all right. But don't ever call me that again, Draco."

-- -- -- -- --

Why? Severus asked himself. To his knowledge, he'd never displayed signs of masochism before.

Apparently he was a late bloomer, then.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he mentally berated himself as he obediently dried off the drippy dish Molly Weasley placed into his hand.

In an effort to avoid interacting with Potter's former roommate, Severus had proffered his services to Molly Weasley in cleaning up after the supper. Delighted, apparently, she'd loaded his arms up with dirty dishes and ushered him into the kitchen, chattering away.

It was only slightly better than enduring Brittany.

In the same way that death by drowning was only slightly better than death by, say, crucifixion.

Now Severus recalled why he'd avoided this woman like a communicable disease during the summers he'd been forced to stay at the Order Headquarters with parts of the Weasley family. He also knew now exactly why Hermione dreaded speaking with her.

Molly Weasley had to have been a Slytherin as a student. There was no other way she could manipulate his feelings so successfully.

In two short hours, she'd managed to insult his teaching methods, berate him for being unmarried, and heavily imply that the only reason Albus hadn't fired him from Hogwarts and kicked him out of the Order was out of pity. And instead of the rage he'd expected to feel at her words--been hoping to feel, honestly--he'd only felt slightly put out and oddly guilty.

Murder was not legal, he reminded himself helpfully, feeling cheated out of his healthy rage. Murder was not legal and suicide was not ethical.

Fortunately, however, there were only a few more dishes and then he could escape Molly Weasley with good grace.

By this point, Severus would have gladly told Albus about Switzerland. In graphic detail. As long as it would have gotten him out of this wedding and--more importantly--spending a night in bed with someone he most likely had never met before while his worthless Malfoy of a cousin shagged his equally worthless boyfriend.

"You're so quiet, Severus," Molly Weasley was saying cheerfully, handing him a pot. "You've barely said a word all evening."

He managed a grunt, sitting the now-dry pot in a pile with all of the others.

"I've never understood why our Ron is so embarrassed about that Life Debt," she chattered on, oblivious to Severus' immediate discomfort. "After all, it's like I told him. 'Ron,' I said, 'he's got to be a decent fellow for saving your life. You ought to be honored.'"

He'd never wanted to leave a room so badly in his entire existence. Not even when that fool of an imbecile Gilderoy Lockhart had sent him a singing valentine during a faculty meeting more than a dozen years ago. "Just to cheer him up a bit," Lockhart had said. Severus' knuckles whitened on the dinner fork he was holding.

"That's the last bit there, Severus my dear," she said, watching him grip the fork quizzically. "Thanks ever so much for helping me clean up."

"Welcome," he said noncommittally, laying the fork on the counter and keeping his pace at a steady walk as he left the kitchen instead of the run his mind was screaming at his legs to use.

The Burrow was unexpectedly quiet as he moved through the kitchen and sitting room. Probably most everyone would be asleep by now, anyway. Glancing at his watch, Severus noted that it was nearly midnight. With the wedding tomorrow morning, people would most likely want to get up fairly early.

But there were voices emanating from the parlor. Slipping closer to the archway, Severus listened carefully.

" ... you talk to her?" Draco asked someone.

"Sure," Potter's voice replied casually. "Were you successful?"

"Was there any doubt of that?" he asked playfully.

"I don't like this," came someone else's voice that Severus could not immediately recognize.

"Oh, come on, Weasel," Draco said. "When did you get so boring?"

Oh ... Weasley.

"Can it, Malfoy," was the angry retort. "It's just ... I don't think it's a very good idea." This was more hesitant.

"What d'you mean?" Draco cried. "It's a brilliant idea! It's perfect."

"They've been such good friends," Potter said earnestly in counterpoint with his lover. "And they've both got to be lonely."

"They're practically made for each other, Weasel," Draco completed.

"Look, Malfoy," Weasley said. "If they want to shag or whatever, fine with me. It's not my business, besides. But tricking them is dirty pool and you know it."

"It's not a trick," Draco retorted stoutly. "It's matchmaking."

Severus could almost hear Weasley shaking his head. "They're going to kill you. Both of you. You know that, right?"

"You're in for it, too, mate," Potter said. "You knew about it and didn't stop us."

"I wash my hands of the two of you," Weasley said in what could only be described as a final tone. "I'm going to sleep now."

"Night, Ron," Potter called as Severus heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Yeah, sleep tight, Weasel," Draco said.

"Sod off, ferret," Weasley shot back, muffled.

Severus waited a few minutes for Potter and Draco to make their own way up the stairs before going up himself. Recalling what Draco had said, he knocked briskly on the first door on the right hand side of the hallway before opening it hesitantly.

Looking into Hermione's surprised gaze, he sighed. "Hermione, I think we've been had."

-- -- -- -- --

"Those horrible little ... aargh!" Hermione trailed off in frustration, hugging a pillow to her chest. Severus assumed from the fashion in which she was slowly twisting it, she was imagining it to be either Draco's or Potter's neck.

Nodding, he sat down on the bed beside her, crossing his legs and perching his elbows on his knees in a casual maneuver most of his students would have been absolutely shocked to see him performing. "The question is," he said. "What do we do about it?"

"If I didn't know they'd probably enjoy it," she growled, adjusting her pajama top minutely. "I'd march up right now and bind them both to the bed. As it stands ..." She sighed. "Probably nothing."

"Nothing?" he echoed, skeptical.

"Well," she began. "Think about it. Harry and Draco have embarked on a grand ruse to throw us together in a passionate romance. So what do they want to happen?"

"I see," he replied, not really seeing.

She rolled her eyes. "You only say that when you're completely baffled, you know?"

Silently, he continued to regard her with skepticism.

"When we fail to have any emotional response, their plan will have failed completely," she exclaimed. "Do you see now?"

"I dislike plans that do not involve retribution," he said, unconvinced. "We could--"

"And that would convince them that we were merely fighting the attraction," she said, cutting him off. "But no reaction at all! Well, they'd just have to give up, wouldn't they?"

Sighing, he rolled off the bed and began rummaging around in his bag for a toothbrush. "It's like reasoning with three-year-olds, isn't it?"

"Speaking of," she replied, tone lightening considerably, "I noticed that you won over a certain young lady's affections this evening at supper."

With a scowl, he produced the toothbrush and slathered it with toothpaste, jamming it in his mouth and brushing viciously. "Shut up," he grumbled through a mouthful of foam.

"The bathroom's the door across the hallway," she replied, eyes twinkling. "You might want to use it instead of drooling all over Percy's carpet."

Still scowling, he walked across the hall to rinse out his mouth, coming back into the bedroom, scrubbing at his mouth with his robe sleeve. "This is Percy Weasley's room?"

"Quite possibly the most organized child's bedroom in the Western world," she replied. "Now, can we please go to sleep? I'm exhausted."

He stripped down to his underclothes and climbed under the covers, pulling the blankets up to his chin and feeling Hermione's comforting warmth beside him and her breath tickling in his ear. "I must admit," he said after a moment's pause, "this is certainly preferable to the last time we shared sleeping quarters."

"Severus," she retorted drowsily, "we were chained together in Alistair Chalmers' closet. That hardly counts."

He poked an elbow gently into her side. "How about the time before that?"

Apparently considering it for a moment, he heard the bedclothes rustle as she answered. "Nope," she said. "I fell asleep on you hiding in the bushes outside a hideout in Vienna. Doesn't count either."

"Do any of them count?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"We did share a hotel room a few years back in Venice," she said thoughtfully. "But if I recall, I made you sleep in the bathtub."

"It was nice of you to let me have a pillow," he agreed sarcastically.

"Mmm," she hummed. "It was, wasn't it?"

If they spoke any further, Severus did not recall any of it later as sleep slowly overtook him.

-- -- -- -- --

Severus was rather surprised the next morning as the first thing to greet his gaze was Hermione's hair, grown even fluffier through the night, as it flowed over his bare chest, tickling the skin. Recalling the events of the previous night, he relaxed minutely, disentangling their limbs as he got out of bed, stretching and sighing.

"G'morning, Sev'rus," Hermione mumbled as he rose, pulling his pillow over her face. "What do I smell?"

"Breakfast, presumably," he replied, running his fingers through his own hair in a vain attempt to keep it out of his eyes.

"Molly does fabulous breakfasts," she said, stretching cat-like in the bed and scratching her side. "But I don't want to move."

"I'm not bringing you breakfast in bed, you know," he said.

She threw a pillow at his head. "You are singularly unhelpful."

Pulling on the bottom half of a pair of pajamas Albus had given him for Christmas years ago, Severus slipped on a dressing robe and threw the one Hermione had lazily slung over the back of a chair last night at her face. "It's nice to know my efforts to that effect have been successful."

"You really are a bastard," she groused, sitting up and pulling her robe on over her own pajamas.

"And every single hair on your head is standing practically on end, I believe," he said as she stood unsteadily.

Fixing him with a drowsy glare, Hermione began to run her hands through it to tame it somewhat. "Says the man who currently looks like he's been through a hurricane."

"It can't be that bad," he said, putting his hands on his head again.

"Oh, it is," she replied with a smirk. "Who would have thought that evil Professor Snape wakes up with bed head?"

"Your children currently have detention until their respective graduations," he said testily. "Would you care to start on your grandchildren?"

"Children need detention," she agreed. "Early and often. Now come on ... I'll bet anything that Molly is churning out waffles, or something equally wonderful. And Harry and Ron the Walking Stomachs will beat us to it if we don't hurry."

An entire roomful of people stopped eating and talking in order to properly gawk at Severus and Hermione as they nearly staggered into the kitchen, both still rather sleepy. Hermione accepted a cup of coffee from Molly Weasley with a stifled yawn and Severus slouched down in the empty chair beside her, deciding that most of the people in the room were staring at his tousled appearance, not hers.

"Sleep well?" a ferally grinning Harry Potter asked them both.

"Tolerably," Severus replied complacently. "Although I could have done without the incessant drooling," he said slyly, looking at Hermione out of the corner of his eye.

"The snoring was rather annoying," Hermione continued, picking up the thread. "But I expect the fabulous morning sex made up for all of that."

There was a loud clatter as Draco actually dropped the glass he was holding. Weasley snorted into his orange juice and his wife smacked the back of his head as he spluttered.

"What?" Potter asked, stunned.

Exchanging amused glances, Severus sat back and smiled while Hermione laughed merrily. "Good Lord, Harry," she eventually said, recovering her breath. "You should see the look on your face."

"But ... you ... I mean ..." Potter stuttered stupidly.

"Nothing happened, you great idiot," she said, rolling her eyes. "What, did you and Draco think this was the first time Severus and I had to share a room?"

"Well ..." Draco began.

"Malfoy, we've been working together for more than seven years," she exclaimed, exasperated. "And most of that is tracking down evil wizards in other countries and then fighting with them and sometimes being captured by them. I promise you, after being chained together in a dungeon for four days without food or water while a slow poison went through our systems, you two fooling us into sharing a bed for a night is not an issue."

"Slow poison?" Severus muttered, amused. While each of those events had actually happened to both of them at some point, they had not been concurrent. In fact, the poisoning had been at least three years before the imprisonment she'd mentioned.

"Shut up," she whispered.

Both Potter and Draco seemed to be momentarily taken aback. This was only compounded as Molly Weasley proceeded to pile no less than seven steaming waffles on each of Severus' and Hermione's plates.

"I expect you two are both starving after such an ordeal, then," she said lightly "Eat up."

With a snort, Hermione dug into her food, eating with relish. Severus tasted his hesitantly and then ate with gusto himself, permitting himself a moment's reflection that the house elves at Hogwarts had a thing or two to learn about breakfast from Molly Weasley.

They ate rather quickly, finishing nearly simultaneously. "Ought to go and get ready," Hermione told him. "Lots of people, not many lavatories."

Nodding, he finished his juice and rose to follow her. As it was, neither of them noticed a smirking Draco Malfoy point his wand at their backs and whisper an incantation.

-- -- -- -- --

"Your dress robes are so boring, Severus," Hermione said as she pulled her still slightly damp hair into a knot at the nape of her neck.

"I like black," he replied defensively from his position on the bed. "And besides, I don't see you strutting about like some stupid peacock."

She put on pearl earrings pensively, twisting them about until she was satisfied with their hang. "I believe my robes are generally described as 'tasteful.' Yours, however, are simply plain. They're interchangeable with your classroom robes."

"They're silk," he said in a wounded voice.

Frowning at her reflection in the mirror, she picked up a tube of lipstick and regarded it with deep consideration.

"Go ahead," Severus told her boredly. "Else you'll be moaning through the service about how you should have."

"Don't be hateful, Severus," she said in a singsong tone, applying her lipstick carefully.

He scowled. "Don't be obnoxious, Hermione," he shot back. "Are you nearly done?"

"Just about," she replied, pressing her lips together. "Why?"

"We've only got about fifteen minutes to get over to the ceremony," he said, shoving his ever-present hair out of his eyes.

"Fifteen minutes?" she yelped. "Why didn't you tell me how late it was?"

With a smirk, Severus stood and folded his arms. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself so much."

She punched his upper arm with a closed fist, smiling grimly at his cry of outrage. "That," she said through grit teeth, "was for hoping you could make us late enough to have to miss the wedding."

He remained silent, not denying it.

"Switzerland, Severus," she said, sweeping out of the door.

She heard him mutter to himself as he followed, more slowly. "'Switzerland, Severus,'" he said in an undertone falsetto. "Stupid, fucking Switzerland. Stupid, fucking Albus and his stupid, fucking cat."

"What was that, Severus?" she called over her shoulder.

He heaved a sigh. "Nothing."

Walking down the stairs, Hermione felt an odd little twitch behind her navel that made her hesitate on a single step. Severus gave her an odd look as he reached the staircase himself.

"Are you all right?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"Yeah ..." she said, wondering if it was true.

But the twitch was gone.

-- -- -- -- --

The ceremony was beautiful, really. Ginny played the lovely, blushing bride in a lace encrusted dress, Colin looked uncomfortably handsome in his Muggle-style tuxedo, and Molly Weasley was in rare form, proud and beaming at the front of the church and looking resplendent in her white robes.

Even the flower girl--Severus informed her sotto voce that the girl was the most annoying child he'd ever met, thoroughly impressing Hermione--was suitably cute, prancing up the aisle with her basket of flower petals and giving a startled Severus a wide grin as she caught his eye.

If the Muggle Creeveys were disconcerted by the fact that the ceremony was performed by a man in a funny looking bathrobe who bore more than a passing resemblance to illustrations of the wizard Merlin, they did not show it.

For her own part, Hermione was rather surprised that Albus was performing the ceremony, but on second thought, she had to concede that she shouldn't have been. Poking Harry in the back of the head partway through the service, she'd learned that Albus couldn't stay long after the wedding, but he had agreed to preside over it some months ago.

So, all in all, a wedding that every girl dreamt of. Well ... except for the moment when Fred and George had both stood up to protest the wedding. Whatever their protest was, however, Hermione never knew, as Molly Weasley simply discreetly put Full-Body Binds on the pair of them before they could get any words out.

Colin and Ginny had simply stepped over their prone bodies as they walked out of the sanctuary after the service. The flower girl had also managed to dump the rest of her flower basket out on their heads as she made her adorable little exit and the twins were released from the hex with little pink petals clashing horribly with their carrot tops. Neither seemed to care, though, and took Molly's scolding good-naturedly, just giving her apologetic shrugs and wide grins. Fortunately, it seemed their good humor was infectious, as Molly simply shook her head and walked out after them.

It was rather strange, though. After the service, she had stood up to go over and talk to Luna Lovegood, who she hadn't seen since her Hogwarts years, and felt a fierce tug in her belly as she stepped away from Severus. It was as if someone had tightened a rope around her gut. Perplexed, she'd simply managed to catch Luna's eye, and the small woman had come walking over with a dreamy smile on her face.

She hadn't noticed Draco elbowing Harry and giving him a satisfied grin.

Rather more apparent, however, was the moment when Severus decided to walk out of the church to wait for her rather than linger awkwardly in the pew. He got about four feet away from her before jerking in the air as if someone had tugged on an invisible rope and managed to fall flat on his back, stunned.

Hermione cut off her conversation with Luna and leaned over him with concern. "Are you all right?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know what happened," he replied, picking himself up carefully. "I was walking and then I was on the ground. I don't even remember slipping."

Narrowing her eyes, she studied Draco and Harry, both giving her innocent looks that she didn't believe for a second.

-- -- -- -- --

Severus couldn't decide who to blame for his current predicament. Eventually, he decided on simply glaring at everyone seated at the round table equally, knowing the guilty party was among them. Certainly Molly Weasley wouldn't have placed him at a table with Hermione, Ron Weasley and his wife, Potter and Draco, an anonymous Creevey cousin and the infamous, hateful Brittany Harmony Creevey.

Who was currently practically attached to his left side, chattering away as if her life depended on it.

"Didja see me up there, Severus?" she asked with only a slight lisp, which might have endeared her to most other adults but made Severus itch to shout at her to, for the love of everything sacred, shut the hell up. "I smiled at you, Severus. And I just loved my flowers ... they were so pretty. And Aunty Ginny said ... she's not my real aunt, you know, but she said I can call her ..."

He tuned her out as best he could, allowing himself to wonder briefly how the child had managed to learn his first name. Certainly he hadn't shared it with her.

On his right side, Hermione smirked at him. "Enjoying your date, there, Severus?"

"See if I ever rescue your sorry ass ever again," he spat. "The next time you're hanging off a cliff by the tips of your fingers, saying 'Severus, save me,' I might just leave you there."

"I'm sorry, Severus," she said, completely unapologetically.

"Can I leave now?" he asked, hating the whining note he heard in his voice. "The wedding's over. This is just the reception."

"Switz--"

"Yeah, yeah," he cut her off. "I know. Switzerland."

Potter looked rather curious all of a sudden. "What's Switzerland got to do with anything?" he asked. "I've heard you say that a couple of times now, Hermione."

"It's quite funny, actually," she said.

"Don't you dare," Severus said fiercely, rounding on her. "You promised!"

There was that devious smile he'd learned to be wary of. "I promised not to tell Albus, Severus," she replied. "And I don't think anyone here would tell him."

He looked pointedly at Draco, who contrived to look hurt. "What?" the boy asked innocently. "I won't tell ... I swear."

"Right," Severus said, unconvinced.

"Anyway," Hermione said loudly, clearly ready to continue despite Severus' best efforts. "I guess it was last March--"

"April," he corrected automatically.

"All right, then, April," she said, giving him a small glare. "It was about three weeks before Professor McGonagall's birthday, at any rate. And as it turns out, Albus had gotten her present already. A kitten."

"A kitten?" Potter echoed dubiously.

Sighing, Severus decided to answer. "He thought she might enjoy the company in her Animagus form. After all, Mrs. Norris is hardly a sociable feline."

Most of the people sitting at the table permitted themselves smiles at that understatement.

"But Albus was called out of town unexpectedly," Hermione continued. "Someplace he couldn't take the kitten. I don't know where. But he decided it would be a good idea if Severus here took care of the cat while he was gone."

"I was the only one who he knew wouldn't tell Minerva," he said defensively as most of them gave him incredulous looks. "And stop looking at me as if I eat kittens for breakfast."

"For all we know ..." Potter said with a wicked grin.

"Sod off, Potter," Severus snarled.

"Okay," Hermione interjected, "so Severus has this cat now. It was a cute little thing--fluffy and sweet and all of those kitten-y adjectives."

"Wait ..." Weasley interrupted. "Was?"

"Getting there," she said, waving her hand. "And that was the same weekend that I happened to get a great lead on a Death Eater by the name of Rousseau. So I show up at Hogwarts and find Severus yelling at this poor creature because it unwittingly clawed a hole in his favorite pair of socks."

"You have favorite socks?" Weasley's wife asked him.

Severus stayed silent.

"I have socks," the indefatigable Brittany piped up. "My Mummy buys me lots of socks ... red and green and blue and pink and--"

"That's lovely, dear," Weasley's wife said. And then, casting a furtive glance at a fuming Severus and bemused Hermione, "how about you and I go and find your Mummy? I'm sure she would like to hear all about your dress."

Weasley's wife ought to be canonized as a saint, Severus reflected as she led a chattering Brittany away from the table.

"So our professor here was busy convincing a cat that its name was 'Stupid,'" Potter prompted Hermione.

"And I came in to tell him that we needed to get to Switzerland, pronto," she said. "In his defense, I suppose, he probably wasn't thinking very clearly. It was a rushed affair."

"What happened?" Draco asked.

Hermione grinned. "He brought the kitten along."

All three men burst into loud laughter and Severus shot Hermione his best glare. "Albus told me to keep it hidden and I couldn't think of anywhere else to keep it," he said lamely.

After the laughter died down, she continued. "So we're there in Switzerland, out in the middle of nowhere in the Swiss Alps, looking for a rundown little chateau, and Severus has this pocket full of mewling kitten. We found Rousseau, of course, but he turned out to be rather nastier than we thought. Shot us up with a few rather unconventional spells before we managed to Stun him. Unfortunately, the esoteric blend had some nasty side-effects," she said, giving Severus a wicked grin.

"I was under a Dark spell!" he cried unthinkingly.

"So now we know that a Confundus charm blended with someone trying to fight off the Imperius curse causes extreme paranoia," she said.

"What happened next?" Potter asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"Severus absolutely flipped out," Hermione replied, smiling as the men shouted with laughter once again. "Started hexing everything in sight, howling about Death Eaters. Even ripped off his outer robes, screaming something about them being cursed."

"He didn't," Weasley gasped, perhaps seeing where she was going.

"Oh, he did," she assured him. "The kitten came crawling out of the pocket and before I can blink, Severus hexes it forty ways to Sunday."

By this point, Draco was actually wiping tears out of his eyes.

"It wasn't my fault!" Severus roared.

"The worst part was when he decided that the kitten knew all of his secrets and actually blew it up," Hermione concluded.

"The poor cat!" Potter moaned through his giggles, holding his belly as he laughed.

"I was afraid to Stun him or Petrify him because I didn't know how it would react to the spells he was already working through, so I managed to coax him into the chateau Rousseau had been hiding him and tied him to the bed. I never did find the rest of the kitten, though. By the next day, everything had worn off and we went back to Hogwarts."

"What happened when Dumbledore asked for the cat?" Weasley asked, chortling.

Severus hung his head as Hermione wrapped up her tale. "Severus told him it ran away!"

The table exploded again. "You mean," Draco gasped through snorts of laughter. "That you actually blew up Albus Dumbledore's cat, and then you told him it ran away?"

"I was under a Dark spell, you know," Severus repeated, feeling it was rather unnecessary and ineffective.

"And what a spell it was," Potter said, mirth winding down. "Wow ... no wonder you got so quiet every time Hermione mentioned Switzerland."

"Albus doesn't know," she said.

"He will, though," Severus told her. "I'm not going to let you hold it over my head forever. The next time you try to blackmail me with it again, I'm going straight to him and spilling everything out."

Weasley looked mildly interested. "Blackmail?"

"Did you actually think I came here of my own free will, Weasley?" Severus practically snarled.

"I'd wondered," he admitted.

-- -- -- -- --

The reception was winding down. Hermione felt pleasantly warm and barely even protested when a mildly tipsy Draco proceeded to snog an absolutely plastered Harry right at their table. Severus hadn't even said anything, just glared and buried his nose in his champagne glass once again.

Ron and Susan were dancing again, close and in love. She watched Ron murmur something in his wife's ear and took in Susan's pretty blush with something akin to contentment.

Taking another sip of her own champagne, she elbowed Severus in the side. "Want to dance?" she said.

He focused on her with considerable effort. "Why?"

She shrugged and frowned. "Why not?"

"I'd probably fall over if I stood right now," he admitted grudgingly.

"Severus, are you drunk?" she asked carefully, eyeing his sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks with suspicion.

"Not exactly ..." he hedged. "Not yet. But champagne does do strange things."

"As evidenced by wonderboy and his exhibitionist lover over there," she replied, hooking a thumb at the nearing-indecent behavior between Harry and Draco.

"I always wondered ..." Severus grunted, draining his flute. "Why d'you call Potter that?"

"Call him what?"

"Wonderboy."

"Oh." Hermione smiled at her friend and tapped her empty glass thoughtfully with a single finger. "Joke from our seventh year. When he was in the Infirmary after ... everything, you know ... I asked him what the bloody hell he'd been thinking, going after Volde--Volde--You-Know-Who like that. Just what sort of superhero did he think he was, that sort of thing. But Harry smiled and said he was Potter the Wonderboy. I think Madam Pomfrey had him on some pretty potent potions for the pain." She looked down at the table. "S'not very funny, I don't think. But it helps me remember."

Severus was quiet for a moment. "Maybe we could dance," he said eventually.

"Oh-kay," she replied, confused at the change in subject. Rising, she felt that strange tug in her gut once again and sat back down suddenly. "Ouch!"

"What?" he asked, startled.

"Can't stand," Hermione replied, brow furrowed. "You try."

He let loose a rather volatile expletive as he was yanked back into his seat upon attempting to stand. "What was that?" he asked.

"Dunno," she said. "But I can feel it tightening again. And have you noticed, our chairs are a lot closer than they started out. I'm practically in your lap. And--Christ!" she yelped as the invisible rope tightened again, pulling her flush against Severus' side.

"I'm going to fall out of my chair in a second," he commented mildly.

"Hang on," she grumbled, actually climbing into his lap and swinging her legs over the edge of her chair. "We look stupid, but we won't fall."

"Hermione, I refuse to carry you around forever," he said emphatically.

Narrowing her eyes at the still-snogging pair across the table, she leaned her head against Severus' shoulder in an effort to regain her balance. "Don't worry," she replied. "You won't have to. But stand when I say so, okay?"

"What if I fall?" he asked worriedly.

"Then I'll hurt you," she said matter-of-factly. "So don't. Hey!" she cried. "Malfoy! Potter! Get your tongues out of each other's mouths for a second!"

Blearily, Harry grinned at her as he shoved Draco away. "What? And why're you in Snape's lap?"

"That's a question I'd like to talk to you about," she snapped. "You and Malfoy."

"Aw, Granger," Draco complained. "Why is it whenever something new happens, you want to talk to me about it. 'Malfoy, what happened to my new pair of shoes?' 'Malfoy, why doesn't my cat have fur any more?' And now, 'Malfoy, why am I attached to dearest Severus?'"

She cocked her head, pinning him with a reflective stare. "How did you know I was attached to him?"

Realizing his mistake, Draco began backpedaling. "I ... erm ... that is to say ... guessed?" he finally settled on.

"Wrong," Hermione spat. "All right, Severus. Stand!"

In a single motion, Hermione and Severus managed to stand up and she pointed her wand menacingly at a suddenly paler-than-usual Draco Malfoy. "Fix it, Malfoy," she said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"But you two belong together!" he cried.

"And you belong in a mental institution," she retorted, "but you don't see me signing you up for St. Mungo's against your will, now do you? Draco, I won't warn you again. Fix it!"

"Fine, fine," he muttered, reaching in his robes for his wand. "You try to help out a friend and she just ..." He mumbled the correct incantation and both Severus and Hermione sighed in relief as the tightness across their middles lifted. Just to make sure, she took a few staggering steps away from Severus. Indeed, the curse seemed to be gone.

In a flash, Molly Weasley was standing beside the table, glaring at all four of them. "What was all that about?" she asked.

Exchanging glances, no one said anything. Draco, at least, had the good sense to blush, and Severus and Hermione chose that moment to lean against each other, realizing that they might both be a little more tipsy than previously thought.

"Well," Molly continued tightly, "I'm not going to let any of you Apparate out of here tonight in this condition. You can stay at the Burrow another night."

"No, I'm fine," Severus protested, trying to stand up straight and mostly failing. "I don't need--"

"I'm not going to pick up the bits after you splinch yourself, Severus Snape. You'll stay the night at the Burrow, whether I've got to Stun you to do it or not," she said furiously.

She led the four of them rather imperiously back into the house, practically hand in hand. Shaking her head as Draco grabbed Harry's hand and led him into his room, she remained silent.

"I trust you two can find your own way?" she asked Severus and Hermione, who both nodded tentatively. "Then good night to the both of you."

They only staggered slightly as they made their way down the hall, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders. "I'm not drunk, though," Severus said into her ear. "It's the damned champagne."

"I think I might be," she said after a moment. "Drunk, I mean." And here was their door. It only took her two tries to turn the knob the whole way around. Collapsing on the bed with a sigh, she kicked off her shoes. "Not gonna change," she mumbled into her pillow.

"Don't be stupid," he replied, making some sort of rustling noise on the other side of the bed.

Rolling over, she saw him sitting cross-legged on the top of the blankets, clothed only in a pair of shorts, having actually flung his robes across the room. "You're not nearly as fun when you're sober," she said, following his example and shedding her admittedly hot robes.

He raised an eyebrow at the sight of her stretched out on the bed in only her underthings. "I'm not drunk," he protested.

"Sure," she retorted, yawning heavily. "Turn off the light?"

"I'm perfectly happy to sleep with it on," he said, laying back in the bed himself. "Turn it off yourself."

After a moment's consideration, she shrugged. "Who cares?"

"That's a girl," Severus mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with a fist. "G'night, Hermione."

"Night, Sev'rus," she slurred, patting his bare chest.

-- -- -- -- --

Severus awoke with only a slight pounding at the temples. It would probably go away on its own, he decided, tucking a single hand under his head, content to lounge in bed for a moment before going to the loo.

Not to mention the contortions it was going to require to untangle himself from a lightly snoring Hermione. They had somehow managed to wrap their arms around each other so that if he attempted to extract himself, he would certainly wake her up.

As it was, her breathing became irregular and her snores stopped as he shifted minutely. "Morning," she said quietly.

"Does your head hurt?" he asked gently.

She stretched and scratched at the appendage in question. "Not too much, actually," she replied. "You?"

"M'fine," he replied.

"Damn Draco, though," she said. "I can't believe he did that to us."

"I never did determine exactly what it was he did," Severus admitted.

"I don't remember the name of the charm, but it pulled us closer and closer together physically through the day," she explained. "He must have cast it in the morning for us to be pulled so close before the day was over."

"Wonder why," he said, idly scratching his chest.

She shook her head. "He was being a git. Probably thought it would somehow help his deluded little plan to make us fall in love."

"Oh," Severus replied. "It didn't work, did it?" What had made him ask that?

Giving him a curious look, her brow furrowed. "I don't think so," she said.

"Well, that's good, at least. Draco would be insufferable otherwise."

Chuckling, Hermione rolled over in an attempt to get out of bed, winding up on top of him.

Later, neither one would admit to initiating the kiss. His chest was suddenly weighted down by a deliciously warm Hermione and the next thing he knew, his lips were against hers and her hands were curled around his shoulders, his own hands sliding down her back.

With a moan that didn't sound sensual in the slightest, Hermione broke off the kiss, laying her chin in the crook of his neck. "Damn it!" she said.

"What?" he asked rather stupidly. It hadn't been that bad.

Her lips grazed the skin on his neck and he tried not to be affected by it. "I won't," she muttered. "I won't give them the satisfaction. It's not fair!" she groaned. "Damn Harry and Draco!"

Not entirely sure about what she was frustrated with, he patted her back tentatively. "I'm sorry?" he tried.

"Oh, no!" she practically wailed, lifting her head. "Don't apologize!"

"But--"

She didn't allow him to finish. "Their nonsense can't have actually worked. Tell me, Severus," she pleaded with round eyes. "Tell me that didn't just happen because of this weekend."

Oh. He had it now. "It didn't," he said. "Mostly, it happened because you tied me to a bed in Switzerland instead of leaving me to rant and rave in the snow."

"How romantic," she said sarcastically.

"What?" he asked, fingers tightening around her hips and becoming acutely aware that they were only clad in their underclothes. "You were expecting roses and sonnets, perhaps? If you've prepared something, I'll be glad to listen to it."

Her lips curved into a smile. "Sorry. The best I have is that I was touched when you showed actual concern about obliterating Albus' disgustingly cute kitten."

"I was afraid he would turn Minerva loose on me," he confessed, eliciting a bark of laughter.

Leaning in to kiss her again, his heart dropped as she pulled away, shaking her head apologetically. "Not now, Severus," she said. "Not with Draco and Harry and their stupid scheme dancing through my head. I won't let them think that they've won."

"Maybe," he began hopefully. "Maybe we don't have to tell them?"

She grinned at his expression and patted his arm. "I also have absolutely no intention of having sex in Percy Weasley's childhood bed."

He thought about it for a moment and found that he agreed with her. "I didn't necessarily mean that," he said quickly.

"Oh, well, in that case," she replied with a smirk, letting her lips graze his own and playfully tugging on a lock of his hair as he pulled her close.

-- -- -- -- --

Severus and Hermione walked downstairs quickly, still rather disheveled. He managed to remove his hand from its comfortable position low on her hip before they walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Molly Weasley called from her position over beside the stove.

"Did you sleep well?" a red-eyed Draco asked with a grin in his voice.

Hermione shrugged and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I woke up better. You? I see Harry is regretting his three bottles of champagne."

"Shut up," Potter mumbled into the tabletop, not bothering to remove his head from it.

"Well, you enjoyed yourself last night," she continued with a devilish glint in her eye. "And that's what counts. Right, wonderboy?"

"I'll hex you," Potter threatened, but it sounded weak.

"How would you like your eggs?" Molly interrupted as she pulled out a frying pan.

Turning to Severus, Hermione gave him a meaningful look. "Oh, I'm not hungry," she said airily. "In fact, I think we ought to be getting back to Hogwarts. Right, Severus?"

He got it. As quickly as his feet would carry him, he was beside Molly Weasley at the stove. "Sorry we couldn't stay for breakfast," he said as earnestly as he could manage. "And thanks for a lovely weekend." Before he could question the impulse, he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

As Severus and Hermione walked out of the door, he noticed Hermione point her wand at Potter and Draco and mutter something under her breath. She winked at his questioning look and he decided he probably didn't really want to know the answer anyway.

-- -- -- -- --

"What was that all about?" Draco asked no one in particular as the door swung shut. "Did someone poison Uncle Severus or something?"

"Huh?" Harry grunted into the table.

"Oh, sit up," Draco snapped. "It's your fault for forgetting the Hangover Potion, you know."

"If you loved me, you would brew me some," he told the table accusingly.

"I've got your eggs, boys," Molly said as she sat a platter down on the table.

Harry just groaned.

"Eggs, eggs, eggs," Draco teased nastily. "Lovely, ooey, gooey eggs, dripping with butter."

With a lurching gait, Harry made a break for the nearest toilet, pausing only to shoot his lover a hate-filled gaze.

Draco's eyes widened as he felt a tug behind his navel as Harry left the room. What had Granger done? "Oh, shit!" he cried. Leaping out of his seat, he dashed after Harry. "Harry! What did she do?"

"What did who do?" Harry asked languidly as he rested his forehead against the toilet seat.

"Granger!" Draco cried. "Didn't you feel the pull? She hexed us!"

Shrugging, Harry flushed the toilet and stood, wiping his mouth. "But you know the countercurse, right?"

"You don't get it, Harry," he said in a rush. "It's a special sort of charm--only the person who cast it can lift it!"

"So we'll run its course, then. I don't mind you sitting in my lap for a day or so," Harry said with a lazy smile.

"It doesn't wear off, Potter!" Draco nearly shouted. "She's got to come back and take it off and Merlin knows when that will be."

With a sigh, Harry flopped back down on the floor. "Fuck," he muttered.

"Exactly."