—————S—————

"Have you discovered anything in your calculations?" Severus asked as he handed Hermione a large plate with a bowl of soup and crusty bread, courtesy of the elves.

"There should be nothing for you to worry about, Severus," she replied, taking the plate and casting a charm for it to hover over her lap. "With Harry not old enough to enter the tournament, there shouldn't be a problem. It looks as if the year will be, unusually, normal. Well, except for having a bunch of foreign witches and wizards, but that's hardly going to affect possible poor outcomes."

"Good," he replied as he discarded his robes. He began to work on the buttons of his frock coat when he realized Hermione was watching him attentively. He cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, wife?"

"Just enjoying the show," Hermione replied casually.

"I was your professor dressed like this," he reminded her, slipping the top few buttons out.

"You were my professor twenty years ago. And not for that long. You've been my lover most of the time I've known you. And the buttons are quite sexy, considering I know what they conceal from the rest of the world."

"Ah, yes," he said, pausing in the buttons to loosen his collar and cravat. "Curse and battle scars, the ultimate sex appeal. The entirety of the wizarding world is missing out, aren't they?" He glanced to his wife as she giggled, just beginning to wonder if maybe soup could wait for something far more satisfying, when the wards around his office tripped. "Bloody hell," he cursed, redoing his buttons as he headed for the door to his office. "Start without me." He heard Hermione say something, but didn't quite catch what it was, already through the door.

As he entered the room, so did Moody and Draco.

"Alastor, this had best be bloody important," Severus snapped, looking at Draco sternly.

"Got a date or something, Snape?" Moody hissed.

Which was ... odd. Really odd, now that he thought about it. Alastor was never the teasing sort, per se, but he always did have a knowing twinkle in his eyes and a touch of innuendo in his voice when he spoke of Hermione to Severus. Always had. And he knew that Draco was friends with Harry, so the stern Auror act was entirely unnecessary.

A tingle crawling up Severus' neck reminded him of a time nearly thirteen years ago, when it was absolutely critical to wear many masks while walking the tightest of ropes. Something wasn't right.

"My wife has come to have lunch with me. What is it?"

"This one tried to curse Potter in the back. No greater coward, I say. McGonagall reminded me I needed to speak with you 'bout it."

"He turned me into a ferret!" Draco screeched, his voice cracking.

"Hush," Alastor snapped.

McGonagall. It was never McGonagall. Min or Minnie, maybe Minerva, but never anything less than casual. Student or not.

"Interesting," Severus said slowly, eyes darting between the two. "Thank you, Moody. I'll take it from here."

"A word later, Snape?" Alastor asked, a coldness to his tone that made Severus' eyes narrow.

"We shall see," he said. It took a moment for Alastor to leave, but he eventually did so, closing the door slowly behind him.

Severus took out his wand and immediately cast wards, silencing charms, and a few of his own spells to misdirect anyone trying to break them. He turned to Draco, who looked utterly petrified.

"I was under the impression that you and Potter were friends."

"We are!" Draco screeched. "But I can't exactly shake the flobberworms off first day in! I need to distract them first. So, I handed Harry a note in Hagrid's class, warning him that I was going to be a foul git to him and Weasley at lunch. It was pre-planned, a show. I mean, Weasley took it a bit seriously, but I think the first five Weasleys got all the male brain cells and only left him brawn, anyway."

Severus arched a brow and demanded his lips not twitch.

"So, they knew. They knew I was going to get into it with them. I was going to miss my target, and even if I didn't, it was a bloody Jelly-Legs Jinx. Worse that could happen was Potter would fall on his face, and Rory or Luna would fix it. Then Moody showed up and turned me into a bloody ferret! Bounced me around."

Severus nodded, finding it a bit odd. Even if Moody had gone after Draco for show, he'd have pulled the boy aside and asked what was going on. Moody was mad after everything that had happened to him, and more than a bit paranoid, but he wasn't as bad as the rumors said.

"Draco, first of all, are you injured in any way?" When Draco shook his head, Severus nodded. "Second, do not let that man even get a hint that you and Potter are close. Be wary. I don't trust this at all."

"Unc—Professor, what ... does this have to do with ...?"

"The revel you and Aurora witnessed? I don't know. Just keep a cautious eye, trust no one."

Draco nodded, and headed for the door.

"Oh, and Draco," Severus called, "should anyone ask, you'll be serving detention with me this Saturday evening in my classroom."

When Draco was out the door, Severus headed back to his rooms, checking his pocket watch on the way. Plenty of time left, thankfully.

Hermione was on the sofa still, a book in her lap, soup untouched.

"Didn't take quite as long as I was expecting," she remarked, not looking up from her book right away.

Severus moved toward her, kneeling at her feet, waiting for her to finish and mark her page before speaking.

"I may need you to run another equation," he said as her warm brown eyes met his.

"I expect you'll have me doing so frequently; I was already prepared to try with different factors. What do you need this time?"

"An equation where Alastor Moody is not himself," Severus admitted as he reached up and began to undo the buttons on his frock coat again.

He allowed the smirk when Hermione's eyes darted to his hands.

"How so?"

"I'll explain later. However, first, I need to devour something quite decadent. And then, time permitting, enjoy our lunch."

"Well, if it wasn't the soup you planned to devour, then what was ... it..."

Hermione didn't get her answer, but Severus was fairly certain she understood precisely what he was thinking by the time she headed back to cottage. She took her soup with her.

Severus barely had time to finish his.

—————A—————

"Bloody psychopath, is what he is," Draco ranted, and Aurora, Ginny, and Luna let him as they took a stroll through the grounds on a fine day. "That thing could have bitten and killed any of us. And then to show us the bloody curses. If my father hears about this—"

"Are you really going to tell him?" Luna asked.

Draco shrugged. "It's against the Ministry, isn't it? Showing the curses."

Aurora could hear the uncertainty in Draco's voice, his old habit of running to daddy to fix everything warring with his broken trust. Broken since he realized his father was among the men tormenting a family of Muggles, children included, and burning the tents of witches and wizards for staying on Muggle grounds.

"It may be," Ginny said. "But remember the whole Buckbeak thing last year."

"Shove it, Weasley," Draco said with a grin, elbowing Ginny for good measure.

They continued talking about classes as they walked, when Aurora noticed Neville sitting by the Black Lake, staring into the distance. She paused, frowning, glancing around to see if Dean and Seamus, or even Harry and Ron were nearby, and found Neville alone.

"Rory?" Ginny called, and Aurora looked to see the others had paused.

"You go on, I'll catch up." She waved them off, then headed over to Neville. She came around, plopped down beside him, and studied him before he snapped out of his stupor.

Before he realized she was there, he looked ... sad. Pained. When he noticed her, he still did, but his cheeks turned as red as his tie.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"Hi. You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, sounding automatic in his response.

He started to look distant again.

"Draco told me about the lesson. It sounded horrible."

"It was."

"Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to if you don't want to..."

"You know your dad is my Boggart, right?" he said suddenly.

"I'm ... yeah, I did," she said, face pinched in confusion. "But what has that to do with me?"

"You aren't ... you aren't going to tell him so he can use it against me in class?"

At this, her jaw dropped. "Why would you think I would do anything like that? I don't tell him every little detail I hear. I hardly talk to him throughout the year about anything but my studies and Mum. You can trust me, Neville. I promise, I'm not some sort of spy for him."

She felt her face color at the phrase, and vaguely wondered if he ever would ask that of her. She doubted it.

Neville nodded sheepishly, looking out at the lake again.

"It was ... it was the Cruciatus Curse," he said quietly. "My gran, she told me that's how ..." His eyes darted to her a few times before he spoke the words barely louder than a whisper. "It's how my parents lost their minds." When Aurora frowned, Neville cleared his throat. "They were Aurors. Went into training together, got married, had me. She always said Mum working while pregnant is the reason I'm not that magical."

"What rubbish," Aurora declared, seeing a very faint smile on Neville's lips at her vehemence.

"Not so sure about that. An uncle tossed me out the window to make sure I wasn't a Squib. Anyway. They were ... they were rounding up the last of the Death Eaters when ... when they found some. The worst ones, those who were really loyal to You-Know-Who and really believed he was still out there. They were outnumbered. And ...

"Moody showed it to us. You said Malfoy told you about it, so I won't go into details. He showed ... showed Harry how his parents died. And I was actually jealous of him. His parents didn't suffer. His parents were given an end. Mine? They don't speak. They don't do anything. I doubt they remember anything. I'm not even sure they know who they are to each other, let alone me."

She wasn't sure if he realized he was crying through his anger, and she didn't want to draw attention to his tears. But Aurora still acted on the overwhelming need to hug him, wrapping one arm around his back and clutching his shoulder while she wrapped her other arm around his front in a vain attempt to reach her other hand.

Neville surprised her when he reached up and clutched her arm, holding it tight.

"I get it," she said softly. "I can't understand, but I empathize."

She allowed Neville the comfort, which he didn't seem to need as long as she expected him to. Eventually, he let go of her arm.

"Moody gave me this fascinating book," he said, gesturing to the book on his lap. " Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean . It's quite an interesting read, really. It's got a whole section on –"

"Neville," Aurora cut him off, "much as I don't mind lending an ear for your woes, I've had quite enough Herbology for the day."

Neville frowned. "But Herbology and Potions ... they go together."

"So?" she asked, and when he sat silent a moment longer, she rolled his eyes. "Just because I'm Professor Snape's daughter doesn't mean I like Potions, you know."

"What do you like, then?" Neville asked, turning to watch her as she backed up.

"I like Transfiguration. And I'm very interested in Charms and Runes."

She left out the part about how she actually did like Potions. That was hardly the point. And it was worth the tease, seeing Neville brighten. She could almost get used to it, creating a different association to the Snape surname. Maybe they would all think warm and welcoming instead of dungeon bat.

But, then again, her father's reputation preceded her. Perhaps she'd settle for just expanding her circle of friends.

—————S—————

He sat on the step, caressing the broomstick. His broomstick.

Severus had nearly bought himself one the year before, spending money still such a foreign concept that he wanted to purchase just about anything that would make him one of the purebloods. But he refrained, a hope in his chest that maybe he would need new dress robes to impress Hermione or turn his favor with a gift.

He should have known she wasn't materialistic, though he'd never have guessed she barely required much pursuing. Admittedly, their mutual attraction had certainly aided in boosting his confidence.

But after confirming her heart was as much his as his was hers, that Hermione wouldn't need to be kept with gifts like many of the Slytherin girls were, he spoiled himself.

Was the broom top of the line? Hardly. A Cleansweep Five, it was significantly cheaper than most of the others to make way for the newer model. But it was brand new, black and silver, and everything Severus dreamed of having when it came to a broom. It had arrived at breakfast, just after Hermione had come (nervously) toward the Slytherin table to inform him she had to go deliver a couple letters to the Owlery, and she'd meet him in the courtyard nearest the lake as soon as possible. She had no idea he had it.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small vial of shimmering gold liquid. Oh, he would love to be able to brew it, and Slughorn had actually offered him the opportunity. But there was something about the glimmer in Slughorn's eye that made Severus wary enough to decline, citing never having a social life should he attempt such a long term and monumental project.

He watched the gold liquid roll around inside before glancing around to make sure no one else was around and took three drops on his tongue. He knew he needed a bit of luck for his plan, but certainly not enough for a full dose.

He'd just recapped and tucked away the vial when he sensed her coming toward him.

He liked that since they became physically intimate, he could sense Hermione when she was nearby. Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her curls tickling his skin as she frowned at the broom on his lap.

"Is that yours?"

"It is."

"When did you get it? I would remember you carrying it around."

"You'd slipped into a more ... feminine shop."

"Ah. So ..." She chewed her lip, looking distrustfully at the broom.

"Have you ridden with someone else before?"

"Well ... not a broom," she mumbled.

Severus reared back a moment, grinning slightly. "Not something I can know, I take it?"

She shook her head, a small smile on her face.

He stood, something telling him to assert some authority in this case. He held out his hand to her, and Hermione took it, first as leverage to get to her feet again, and then to hold onto as they headed to the Quidditch Pitch.

She made no protest, and he was sure that, with the Slytherin tryouts taking place in an hour, no one would question why a Slytherin sixth year was heading that way.

"Did your friends play Quidditch?" he asked, curious if she would be able to answer. He shifted the broom slung over his shoulder as he took in the rings peeking over the walls of the pitch.

"Two of them were Seekers," she said, taking a deep breath. He squeezed her hand, and she pressed on. "Two were Beaters," she added more easily. "The rest were just hoping to get on a team eventually."

"And you were not one of them."

"I'm ashamed to admit that flying was my only acceptable grade ever."

He swung the broom down, mounted, and kicked off. Oh, he did so love flying. He was a natural, and from time to time, the flying instructor would take pity on the poor half-blood and let him fly to escape everything. He hadn't done so much in fourth year, and even less last year.

He darted around the pitch, feeling the wind rush through his hair, against his face, wanting to close his eyes at the pleasure of it. But there was another sort of pleasure he sought, so he darted down and hovered near Hermione.

"You want me to ride, don't you?" she whined.

"With me. I'll hold you, or you can hold on to me, but I would prefer it the other way around," he said with a grin, holding out his hand to her.

"Severus."

"Where's that Gryffindor bravery now?" he taunted, knowing it was what he needed to say to incite her enough for her to agree.

She groaned, stomped her foot, but held her hand out. He hoisted her up and onto the stick in front of her, allowing Hermione to hold the handle with both hands to steady herself.

There was a bit of extra direction needed, of course, but the balance was pretty much there. He took off a bit slower than before, and he could feel how utterly terrified she was merely by the stiffness of her spine, but she never uttered a peep.

In fact, he had thought flying with Hermione would be heady because of the physical aspect. He never would have expected that the greatest pleasure would be how much she trusted him. Eventually, after about the fourth lap around the pitch, she relaxed a fraction.

He almost said it up there, just after making a quick detour, Hermione yelping before letting out a peel of laughter as they flew through the center ring on the far end of the field. He almost told her he loved her. That he wanted to marry her. That sixteen or not, he was never going to want to be with anyone else. It would have been simple, but he couldn't.

The Liquid Luck had left his veins, and he no longer felt like he could do anything.

—————A—————

Aurora, Luna, Ginny, and Neville were perched on the floor next to a pillar in the Great Hall, watching the comings and goings of those putting their name in the Goblet of Fire.

"It's really quite interesting to see, isn't it?" Luna commented. "I thought the Durmstrang cohorts looked quite fierce, confident. And all of the Beauxbatons' contestants were quite graceful. Hogwarts doesn't seem to have either."

"Except Cedric," Ginny said with a wistful sigh. "Did you see the way he smiled? He was confident, fierce, and graceful."

"I sense a crush," Aurora noted as blasély as she could while Ginny smacked her arm.

"I do not have a crush on Cedric Diggory," Ginny grumbled.

"I thought you did," Luna said. "You were swooning an awful lot when we joined him and Mr. Diggory at the Portkey."

Ginny turned red and glowered at Luna while Aurora laughed. Neville merely smiled, remaining silent, as he had been most of the morning.

Aurora had noticed he hung around quite a bit as of late, especially if Draco wasn't around. Well, unless Draco wasn't around or when he was, but also Harry and Ron. Ginny teased him from time to time, saying he was the honorary Hufflepuff of the group. He didn't seem to mind.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked as he and Harry approached them.

"All of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons," Aurora replied. "There's only been a couple from Hogwarts though. "

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," Harry said as he leaned on the pillar. "I would've if it had been me. Wouldn't have wanted everyone watching."

"'Magine you wouldn't," Aurora agreed. She then frowned. "Would you have entered? If you'd been of age?"