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The Headmaster's Wife	By : Mrs_HH Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 96914 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 23
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 52
- 53
- 54
Author's Note:
I know it's been a while...I can only apologise. Now, the next few chapters might seem a little off piste but there are some important plot points in amongst it all that need to be considered. So read carefully.

Sundays were a strange day for the students and staff within the castle at Hogwarts. There were no lessons, no Quidditch, and no Hogsmeade visits, except for seventh and eighth years. Of course, there was homework to do and a library in which students could study and read. The castle grounds were ripe for exploration, and the common rooms were ideal for lounging around, reading or playing Wizard's Chess or Exploding Snap. But whatever occupation the students chose to engage in, it was always a very quiet day.
It was usually very quiet for the staff, too. They, or at least some of them, had to be there. They weren't just teachers but guardians as well, and on Sundays they could often be found talking to students about various subjects in between their marking and administrative duties.
But the atmosphere on this particular morning was even stranger than most. The castle felt mournful as if it knew that the headmaster would be absent for the next eight days. This feeling of melancholy was compounded by the fact that the snow, which had lain as a blanket around Hogwarts for the last week, was currently being assaulted by heavy rain, which made the grounds particularly uninviting. Many had returned to their common rooms and dormitories after breakfast to take advantage of the warm fires, cosy blankets, and hot chocolate, but two residents of the castle had remained in bed, cuddled up to one another, not for warmth, but comfort.
"Have you finished packing?" Hermione mumbled against Severus' chest, all too aware that he would be leaving soon to meet Pius and Simeon in the diplomatic area of International Portkey Departures at the Ministry.
Severus' fingers twisted and tangled in her chestnut locks as he kissed the top of her head, stating that the only thing he needed to pack were a few more white shirts. He'd had the foresight to do the bulk of his packing before they'd left for Malfoy Manor the previous evening.
Despite the fact that Severus knew that he had to get up, the simple act of rolling out of bed was an even more arduous task than usual. Neither had slept well, having talked until sleep finally claimed them at around four o'clock.
Many most likely assumed that the couple were using this precious time together to make love for the last time in a week. However, the only tangling of limbs that was taking place was when they clung to each other, as if trying to burn themselves into the other's skin. It wasn't that they hadn't tried, but Severus found that a certain part of his anatomy was rather uncooperative. As much as he wanted to feel his witch around him one last time, truth be told, he just needed to hold her, taking comfort from her very presence in their bed.
Last night had shaken the pair to the core. The prospect of Severus being damaged to the point of not being able father a child conventionally would not change their feelings towards one another, but the possibility―as it had done often to many couples— shocked them. The fact that he was leaving today also added to the distress they both felt.
Hermione, to cover her own upset, talked incessantly about all the Muggle infertility treatments they could explore, as well as adoption. Eventually, Severus told her to shut up before pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly, promising again to see Poppy upon his return to ascertain the extent of the situation.
However, at ten o'clock, Severus reluctantly hauled himself out of their bed and silently held out a hand to his witch, gently jerking his head towards the bathroom where he intended to coax Hermione into the shower and hold her next to him until the last possible moment.

After striding into Severus and Hermione's living room and observing the dark-haired wizard adorned in a black, single-breasted Muggle suit with crisp white shirt, Lucius felt the need to pass comment. "Well, I must say that although Muggle suits have never been my preference, you do look rather splendid in one, dear."
"Remind me to give you the name of my tailor," Severus drawled, snapping his cuffs as he greeted his best friend.
Lucius shook his head and chuckled softly. "Perhaps I will take you up on that offer, especially if my arse also receives the admiring looks that yours appears to," he said nonchalantly whilst smirking at Hermione, whose eyes were indeed trained unconsciously on Severus' backside.
It took a moment for the blond wizard's words to sink in for the young witch. "What?" she blustered indignantly, a slight blush staining her cheeks whilst Draco and Harry sniggered behind Lucius.
Severus' arm snaked around his witch, kissing the top of her head. It's rude to stare, he teased in her head before telling his friend, "Well, you can hardly blame her."
No, I can't help it! You have a very stare-worthy arse, Hermione responded, putting her arm around him and surreptitiously squeezing the object of her affection. "No, you can't blame me," she said, feigning innocence.
"Of course not, darling," Lucius retorted with mock solicitousness. "Now, as your protectors have arrived, would you like us to make ourselves scarce before you engage in a nauseating displays of affection?"
Severus' growl said it all, and Lucius, realising that now was not the time to trifle with the dark-eyed wizard, ushered Draco and Harry into the Granger-Snape study with a promise to return in fifteen minutes.
The couple stood silent for a moment, knowing that the time was fast approaching where Severus would be Apparating away to the Ministry.
A small sniff caused the wizard to look down only to catch Hermione wiping her eye to stay her tears.
"Come here," he whispered, his voice heavy with raw emotion. Pulling Hermione into a tight embrace, Severus buried his face into her fragrant curls, breathing in her calming scent for as long as he could before he spoke again. "I am going to miss you so very much," he mumbled into her hair, "so very much."
Hermione could no longer fight back her tears. "I'll miss you too," she sobbed into his chest, tightening her arms around his body, clinging to him desperately.
Trying to find the positive in the situation, Severus reminded that only eight nights separated them before they would be in each other's arms again.
"Eight nights too long," Hermione sniffled before Severus loosened his grip and took a step back, pushing his elegant fingers into her hair and kissing away her tears. Finally, their lips touched lingeringly.
Pressing his forehead to hers, Severus' hands cradled her face as he spoke. "I know it is, but when I return home I intend to never be away from you for this long again," he tried to reassure. "I doubt this prolonged absence will be easy on either of us, but it will be worth it to reunite you with your parents, won't it?"
"I suppose," Hermione mumbled, clearly overwrought.
"It will. Now, do you have the letter that you wish me to deliver on your behalf?"
Nodding, Hermione told him that she'd put it in his bag. It had taken her longer than anticipated to write the letter to her parents which explained that Severus was her partner. It was easy enough to say, "Mum, Dad, this is Severus and I'm in love with him and we're going to spend the rest of our lives together." What wasn't so easy was explaining to her Muggle parents that, yes, Severus had been her professor, but they were soulmates and destined to be together, and despite what they were inevitably going to read about him, he was a good man and she hoped that, one day, both her parents would be happy for them.
Taking a deep breath, Severus pulled Hermione into his arms again. "I am fully prepared for them to take an instant dislike to me. It will not change how I feel about you, but I will understand if―"
"―If what?" Hermione interrupted, subtle indignation lacing her voice as she pulled back from him.
A curtain of hair shielded Severus' eyes, but Hermione could feel his thoughts washing over her. "I..."
"Don't you dare!" Hermione yelled at him, rearing back as fat tears flowed over her cheeks. "Not now. Please, not now," she told him, almost pleading for his self-deprecation to back off for a moment and allow them to say goodbye without upsetting themselves any more than they were already. "Don't you dare think that how they might react will ever change how I feel about you. I love you, you idiot. I fucking...love you!" she sobbed, thumping her fists into his chest.
"Forgive me. I...I didn't mean to make you cry. I love you more than I can ever show or tell you, Hermione Granger," Severus reaffirmed, feeling suitably admonished as he pulled her back to him and finally allowed the emotion of the moment to take him. "When I return," he began, squeezing his eyes tightly together as he rested his chin atop her head, "I am going to leave you in no doubt of the voracity of my feelings for you. I will make you mine."
"I'm already yours," Hermione sniffled before looking up with a soft smile.
Without a word, the couple's eyes scanned over one another's faces before their lips collided in an all-consuming kiss.
"I don't want you to go," Hermione admitted, her arms locked around Severus' neck.
"Neither do I," he admitted with a heavy sigh before kissing her forehead and looking deeply into her eyes. "But I'll be home soon, and then I will not venture anywhere again without you by my side. Understood?"
Nodding, a smile crept onto Hermione's face before she pressed a chaste, lingering kiss to Severus' lips, which was interrupted as they both detected Lord Malfoy's presence by the study door.
"I apologise for intruding," he said sincerely, "but Severus, I promised Pius that I would get you to the Ministry in a timely fashion."
Holding onto Hermione as if his life depended on it, Severus nodded and kissed the top of the curls he loved so much. "I promise to call every day, but if you need me, call me."
"I will," Hermione responded before pulling back, yet refusing to let go of Severus' hand.
Clearing his throat, Severus took a deep breath before he stood to his full height and addressed the room in general. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?"
"Oh, well Andromeda and Narcissa are spending the afternoon together so we're all looking after Teddy," Harry responded sheepishly.
Severus nodded. "At Snape Manor?"
Harry and Draco looked at each other in panic, thinking that Severus was objecting to Teddy's presence in his home before the headmaster clarified. "I was merely confirming that you are indeed going to Snape Manor as it was agreed Hermione would be safest there. Master Lupin is more than welcome."
"Oh right," Harry said, "yeah, we're going to Snape Manor."
"Excellent. Now, gentlemen, need I remind you of the consequences of failing to look after my witch?"
The three wizards may have rolled their eyes, but none of them doubted that the full wrath of Severus Snape would be heaped upon their heads should anything untoward happen to the love of his life on their watch.
"Then I suppose I will take my leave," he continued, squeezing Hermione's hand just as Leo sauntered into the living room and sat at Severus' feet. Scooping up the now six month old kitten, Severus turned the white fluff ball to look at him. "Behave for your mother. Look after her for me."
Leo mewled at him before turning his head in Hermione's direction and began squirming until Severus handed the animal over to her. Summoning his bags as Hermione cradled the cat to her chest, he pressed one final kiss to her lips.
"Take care, sweetheart and I'll call you when I get to the hotel," he told her before using their connection to tell her to remain strong.
Hermione gave him a rueful smile as she tried to put a brave face on events, but the tears pricking her eyes gave her away.
"I love you," she whispered.
Severus' response was a soft smile, but in her mind he said, I love you, too. I will see you very soon, my love.
Hermione swallowed hard before choking out, "Bye."
With a courteous nod of his head, Severus bid her farewell and with that, he Apparated to the Ministry of Magic, but the spot that he had just occupied was still being stared at by Hermione.
Draco was the first to step forward. Placing his arm around his friend's shoulder, he tried to sound as cheerful as possible. "Come on, let's go. Potter and I have a bet on what colour hair Teddy will have today, and I am rather looking forward to drinking my winnings."
Hermione forced a smile to her lips, but truth be told, something deep inside her felt empty.

Pius Thicknesse and Healer Simeon Hutchinson were chatting on one of the plush green sofas in the lounge of the diplomatic area of International Portkey Departures at the Ministry of Magic. Neither bothered to look up when they heard the unmistakable footsteps of the headmaster walking in their direction.
Dropping his bags onto the tiled floor next to them, Severus handed his wand over to be identified by security and drawled nonchalantly, "Nice suit, Pius. Did Narcissa take you shopping?"
Seeing the wizard on security quail before him as he confirmed that he was indeed holding the wand belonging to imposing figure of Severus Snape brought him an obtuse sense of amusement.
However, when he'd arrived at the Apparition point outside the Ministry, Severus felt far from imposing. In fact, he was amazed that he hadn't managed to Splinch himself with the amount of disquiet that was coursing through his mind. And God, he felt so empty. He knew there was only one thing for it, and as he strode through the atrium, his Occlumency shields were put in place before he arrived at the lift that took him to the sixth floor.
Pius harrumphed just as Simeon began to speak. "Pius was just telling me that they're pregnant."
Severus quirked an eyebrow. "I appreciate that it has been a few years since I studied anatomy and physiology for my Mastery, but the last time I checked, the business of being pregnant was a purely female occupation."
"It is merely an expression," Simeon smirked which paled as Severus glared at him.
"It is an inaccurate expression," the surly wizard retorted before adding quickly, "however, I have already offered my congratulations." He then turned to Pius, a slight curl upon his lips. "Of course, technically I was there at the conception. As such, I will confess that I will be most disappointed should you not name the child Severus Lucius."
Pius laughed heartily. "Narcissa believes it's a girl."
"Then it would be ill-advised to call her Severus Lucius," the dark-haired wizard deadpanned, whilst secretly hoping that Narcissa would finally get the daughter that she'd always wanted. His eyes followed an Auror, who placed a book on a pedestal before walking away. "Gentlemen, our transport has arrived. Are you ready to depart?"
Sensing Severus' restlessness, his companions stole furtive glances at one another before they all picked up their bags and walked over to the first of the Portkeys which would convey them to the Australian Ministry of Magic in Canberra.

Hermione didn't realised how much of an impact being apart from Severus would have on her. It also did not help that her period started the moment she and her band of protectors arrived at Snape Manor. However, she knew it wasn't normal to feel this empty, nor was it normal to feel fat tears rolling down her face every time she thought about her wizard.
Harry thought he was used to dealing with his friend at a certain time of the month, and the two Malfoy men, whilst not being close to her for that long, knew the power of chocolate usually worked. But all three just looked at one another, utterly clueless, when they observed a sobbing Hermione curled up on the sofa in the main living room, with Leo sitting on her legs and Teddy clutched to her chest.
Slowly, as if approaching an injured animal, Harry moved to take Teddy―who, realising that Hermione was upset, had begun to cry himself―and Draco swiftly wrapped his arms around her. However, this seemed to have little effect, much to the young blond's chagrin. Eventually, Lucius gestured for his son to move out of the way and pulled Hermione into his own embrace, which seemed to do the trick.
However, concerned that she could be a blubbering mess all night, Harry decided to call upon the one person he knew might be able to help her.
As Hermione's tears abated and she relaxed in Lucius' arms, a bedraggled and flustered Molly Weasley stepped out of the Floo, carrying a basket containing homemade fruit scones, a pot of Hermione's favourite raspberry jam, clotted cream, and various herbal tea blends and potions.
"Where is she?" the Weasley matriarch blustered before her eyes fell upon Lucius Malfoy comforting her adopted daughter. "Oh, my dear!" the motherly witch exclaimed as she wrangled Hermione from Lucius. "Whatever is the matter?"
Despite Molly's disapproving glare, the grey-eyed wizard had no intention of moving from his ward's side.
Sensing the tension between his father and Mrs Weasley, Draco decided to make himself useful by popping down to request tea from Mrs Hopkins. As he walked through the blue carpeted hallway, he considered himself fortunate that the only way he knew Luna was having her period was when a towel appeared by the side of the bed.
Harry moved to the corner of the living room to entertain Teddy, whilst still able to observe the three people sitting on the sofa. He was currently making the little boy's stuffed owl fly around the room, which had Teddy's hair turning changing colours as he giggled and clapped his hands excitedly.
"I...I don't understand. I just can't stop crying," Hermione sniffed, pulling her sleeve over her hand to wipe her eyes, only for Lucius to thrust a black cotton handkerchief at her. "I can go all day without seeing him sometimes, but I never feel like this."
"No, but you know that you will see him at some point," Molly began, pushing a few curls away from her face, and reaching into her basket for a flask of camomile and peppermint infusion. Indicating that the younger witch should drink it immediately, she continued. "It's perfectly natural to miss him, but I also understand from Harry that it isn't the best time of the month for him to be away," she said knowingly. "Now, has Severus left you with everything you need to make things more bearable for you?"
Hermione shook her head, her bottom lip quivering.
"What did he forget?" Lucius asked gently. "I will retrieve whatever you―"
"Nothing! He didn't forget anything, but he's not here," the overwrought witch sobbed as Molly and Lucius looked at each other with concern.
Sighing deeply, Molly pulled out another small flask containing a lemon balm and valerian infusion. Handing it to Hermione, she pulled the witch to her bosom and cuddled her. "Unfortunately, separation anxiety is something that us soul bonded witches must bear until we conceive. Excuse my French, but as wonderful as a soul bond is, the magic is antiquated and can be bloody unfair on the witch."
This statement piqued Lucius' curiosity. "Does this affect all soul bound witches?" he asked as dispassionately as possible, his thoughts immediately turning to Fleur.
Hermione knew what Lucius was thinking and taking a deep breath to pull herself together, she sat up, extricating herself from Molly's arms. She looked at Lucius and with an imperceptible nod, phrased her next sentence so that Molly would not become suspicious, while ensuring that Lucius would receive an answer. "I hate the pressure it puts me under sometimes. I mean, yeah, the downside is far outweighed by the perks, but I'm so grateful that we consummated our bond after the war."
A stern expression fell across Molly's face. "But you said that you were not―"
"―Oh no, nothing happened between us until the beginning of September. Before that, we didn't really understand what was going on, but if we had and acted on it and then Severus hadn't pulled through...well, I'm sure I would have met or started seeing someone else, but―" She trailed off, hoping Molly would take the bait.
"Yes, it would have been very hard for you. With hindsight, it had already made it difficult for you and Ron, but had you consummated your bond and the worst had happened, even if you'd met someone else and had children with them, your soul would have always ached for Severus. I suppose I would have been in that position had Arthur died, but because we already had children together it would not have been so bad―actually, it would have been too much to bear. If I'd lost him and then my Fred, I―"
Hermione grabbed for the older witch's hand, realising how being separated from Severus seemed quite inconsequential at the moment. However, she had a question to ask, which she wanted an answer to just as much as Lucius. "But what if we can't have children?"
"Don't be silly. That's no way to talk," Molly blustered, regaining her composure.
Hermione shook her head at the age old assumption that you get married and continue the line, knowing that in some cases, there were no children and it wasn't for want of trying. Several of her parents' friends had turned to fertility treatments and even her parents had struggled to conceive. And if that wasn't hard enough, constantly being harassed by the older generation to 'get on with it' didn't help.
Hermione softly reiterated her question.
Molly's brow furrowed, wondering if there was something Hermione was not telling her. "I think love is the key in that case. Whether you adopt a child or have a child naturally or by some of these new fangled ways that the Muggles seem to be doing, then the love you share with the child will appease the bond. I think; don't quote me. But like I say, I don't think that is something you two need worry about. Now, is your wizard calling you today? How long will the journey take?"
Smiling softly, and hoping Molly was right, Hermione nodded. "Yes, he said he would call when he reaches the hotel. It'll take ten hours by Portkey, so I should get a call around midnight. Mind you, if they'd travelled by Muggle airplane it would have taken nearly a day. In fact, on the way back, Simeon will, hopefully, be returning by plane, whereas Severus and Pius are using Portkeys."
Lucius snorted at the thought of Severus and Pius being stuck on a plane for a day.
Chancing a glance at the blond, Hermione knew that his amusement was covering something, and she was right. He was desperately trying to hide the fact that his heart was sinking. Molly had just confirmed his worst fear. Fleur would never be happy without him, and having seen the way Hermione was reacting to Severus' absence, he could only imagine what his soulmate was going through. And to cap it all, he couldn't give her a child or even adopt one with her.
Never more had Lucius Malfoy regretted his selfish decision to contact Fleur that night in September. He was about to make an excuse to leave the room when Draco reappeared, carrying a tea tray. Lucius couldn't remember his son doing anything so domestic before, and found himself pinned to the seat.
Placing the tray on the table, Draco began rearranging the cups and saucers to pour the tea. Through observation, he knew how his father, Hermione, and Harry took their tea, but as he asked Molly for her preference and prepared it, he passed comment about how he'd heard only good things about her scones from Blaise.
"Don't speak to me about that young man," Molly huffed before accepting the fine china cup from the younger blond wizard and thanking him. "I can't believe the trouble he's caused for our Ginny. Still, hopefully the investigation will be completed soon."
Draco, knowing Blaise better than anyone else, stated, "I am sure he is innocent. Blaise is very good at blustering, but he has never been one to deliberately seek trouble, and he really respects my godfather. He would never willingly take part in such a plot."
Molly just huffed into her tea, avoiding the temptation to remind Draco of his own past misdemeanours, before turning to Hermione and asking how she was feeling. Somehow everyone in the room was left in no doubt that the discussion about Ginny's boyfriend was at an end.

After dinner and Draco and Harry had taken Teddy back to Andromeda's, Hermione, knowing that she would be awful company, decided to go up to the bedroom that she shared with Severus. Winky had been in and out all evening, asking if she needed anything, but she knew it was a ruse on Lucius' part to make sure that she was all right.
Dressed in thick cotton pyjamas and fluffy socks, Hermione curled up in an armchair and read. She calculated that Severus would probably call at around eleven o'clock, and fought off the sleep which was threatening to claim her, when―right on time―the grate came to life and the unmistakeable sound of Severus' voice filled the room.
Quickly scurrying to sit before the fire, Hermione greeted her partner with a sense of relief.
"Thank God, you got there safely. Are you all right? How was the journey? How's the hotel?" she gabbled, earning a soft snort from Severus.
"I am well and the journey was as it is whenever you travel long distances by Portkey―five minutes of hell and forty-five minutes of hanging around with nothing to do except talk drivel to one's travelling companions," he chuckled. "We were met at the Australian Ministry and then we Apparated to Melbourne. They did offer to fly us in the Minister's private jet, but we declined."
Hermione couldn't help but ask why the Australian Minister for Magic had a private plane.
"I believe it is because, in the vast expanses of nothingness in this country, there are few landmarks to latch onto. That and the Minister is seemingly notorious for having the fiscal acumen of a mountain troll. Therefore Apparition, unless it is between major cities, is not recommended. However, they are certainly more reliant on Muggle forms of transportation. Arthur would be in his element here."
"So what's the hotel like? Are you in your room?" Hermione asked, the tension within her body lifting with every word that Severus spoke.
"More than adequate," he told her dryly, "and yes, I am in my room, but I am more concerned about you." He couldn't help but notice the slight pain in her voice. "Are you well?"
"I'll be all right."
"Hermione?"
"Oh all right! I've come on and I cried so much when we got here that Harry called Molly and...oh fuck, I've made such an idiot of myself. Molly said that I'm suffering from separation anxiety."
Severus groaned quietly. "It is some stupid side effect of our bond."
"Apparently, but I feel so much better now that I'm speaking to you."
Yawning, Severus nodded. "Then I will endeavour to speak to you as regularly as I can," he told her. "I must confess that I feel rather disconcerted especially when I think that I will not be with you until next Monday."
"What a sweet way to say, 'I miss you'."
Severus hung his head and gave a resigned sigh. "Alright, I miss you and I wish you were here so that I could crawl into bed with you. Satisfied?"
"Yep! Are you very tired? You sound it."
"Very. Now, have you taken your potions?"
Hermione snorted softly at the way he dismissed how he was feeling to ensure her wellbeing. "Yes, and Molly brought some additional infusions which helped to make me feel less restless."
Severus felt his chest clench as he realised how much Hermione was suffering from their separation. He wasn't sure if he was experiencing something similar or if he was just overtired. "Good. I am relieved that you are so well looked after," he told her stifling another yawn.
"Go to bed, love," Hermione told him soothingly.
Severus sighed. "I will, but we are meeting this Hartford character in six hours. I'm not sure if five hours sleep will be enough for me to be 'nice'."
Hermione laughed. Since they had been together, she was always telling him to remember to be 'nice'. Ordinarily most people would have been thrilled to hear that their partner had taken heed of their words, but she knew that her partner was subtly taking the piss.
"I doubt it, but at least you won't be as much of a bastard after a few hours' kip."
"And I love you, too," Severus chuckled before admitting, "I am not looking forward to sleeping on my own tonight."
"Neither am I," Hermione concurred, feeling a lump forming in her throat.
"You know, there is a possibility that we will be in need of a new bed, after my return," Severus told her impassively.
Hermione felt her lips twitch. She knew where her lover was heading with this and she asked nonchalantly, "And why is that?"
"Because I am going to fuck you repeatedly until we break it."
Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Is that a promise?"
Severus snorted playfully. "It is," he purred, "but not until I have thoroughly reacquainted myself with every inch of your body."
Swallowing hard, Hermione felt warmth spreading through her. "Oh God," she breathed, her hand unconsciously running over her breast.
Knowing that he should really go to bed, Severus felt incredibly torn. Part of him, and it wouldn't take a genius to work out which part of him, wanted to go in for the kill and have his witch writhing by her own hand just so he could hear her moans. However, his brain was telling him that he required sleep until he reasoned that perhaps he needed to be more relaxed before said sleep could be attained.
He couldn't believe the bizarreness of what he was contemplating, but he'd promised her Floo sex and Floo sex―of a sort―was what she was about to get.
"Hermione."
She heard and felt his deep, smooth voice caressing every nerve ending in her body.
"Lie back, no hands, just listen."
After half an hour, and one big happy ending for himself, Severus told himself that he could finally go up to Ginny Weasley and answer the question that he'd overheard her asking Hermione on numerous occasions.
Yes, Ginevra, I can make her orgasm using just my voice.
He couldn't wait to see the red-head―of whom he was actually quite fond―die from embarrassment.

The tall, tanned wizard with dazzling white teeth and equally white hair, walked towards the three wizards who were waiting in the Head Auror's office of the Australian Ministry of Magic, hand outstretched.
Graeme Hartford was in fact British, and had shared a dormitory with Pius in Ravenclaw tower whilst at Hogwarts. During his Auror training, he'd seen and heard things that had disturbed him enough that, once he'd completed his training, he and his wife emigrated to Australia before the first wizarding war had begun in earnest. He and Pius kept in touch and they had both followed each other's careers until just after Voldemort's return and Thicknesse's coercion into his ranks. They hadn't spoken until a few months ago when the reinstated Head of Magical Law Enforcement sought his old friend's assistance.
Over the years, Hartford slowly started to gain an Australian accent, but occasionally there was a reminder of his Geordie roots as was proved when he warmly greeted his friend. After shaking Simeon's hand, he turned his attention to Severus.
"Well, you certainly gave everyone the run-around, but it is a pleasure and a privilege to shake your hand, Headmaster," he said, grasping the dark-haired man's hand firmly. "What you did took balls the size of a bloody erumpent, mate, and I'm glad you did because we want our eldest to go to Hogwarts next year."
Severus bowed his head courteously whilst inwardly cringing. He would never get used this level of arse licking when all he'd done was what he felt he had to do. However, he was slightly appeased by the fact that he was also being recognised for the role which he was now, despite appearances sometimes, enjoying more than he ever thought he would.
"Well, I'm sure we can discuss that later," Severus drawled politely.
Hartford nodded enthusiastically before making a request of the 'Dark Saviour.' "Before we get caught up in everything we need to do over the next few days, I was wondering if I can ask a favour of you."
The corner of Severus' mouth twitched as he inclined his head, indicating that Hartford should continue.
"I was wondering if you could talk to our guys in the Special Operations division before you leave. Rumour has it, there are a few escapees from your neck of the woods setting up cells in all our major cities and we think they're recruiting. So, any pointers on how to improve infiltration techniques would be great."
Severus was taken aback both at the request and the situation Hartford was facing. It may not have anything to do with the events back at home and in certain parts of Europe, but if it was related then it was even more imperative that they discover and stamp out whatever it was that Yaxley was trying to achieve.
"It will, of course, depend on how much time we have between achieving our primary goal and leaving," Severus advised, "but I will prepare a short address which I will either deliver personally, or you may deliver it on my behalf."
Yes, I will prepare a short speech on how to use your common sense, he groused to himself. What shall I say? Keep your head down, don't step on too many toes, learn to lie and lie well, Occlumency is your friend. Arrest or kill the bastards and ask questions later.
"Great," Hartford enthused with a beaming smile.
"I don't believe this," Pius grumbled, playfully. "I've been trying to get you to speak to my Aurors for months."
"I wasn't aware that I had refused," Severus drawled nonchalantly. "You simply haven't made the appropriate arrangements."
Pius rolled his eyes. "Of course, it would be my fault."
Hartford snorted before gesturing towards the four bucket chairs on one side of his office. "Let's get a coffee and we can discuss the final details of the plan. This Miss Granger of yours must be something else for you to go to all this trouble."
"She is," Severus confirmed, fiddling with his nails as he sat back in his chair and crossed his legs.
Pius and Simeon gave each other knowing looks, which they quickly tried to disguise when Severus caught them in the act.
Taking in the nuances of the three wizards, Hartford smirked before turning to the more unpleasant part of the plan: how to provide evidence to the British Ministry that Yulian Rostov, an already dead man, had committed suicide whilst being held by Australian Aurors.

"Mr Wilkins?"
"Yes," the dressing-gown clad Englishman confirmed, looking suspiciously at the two black suited men who had turned up on his doorstep at half past six on the particularly bright and sunny Tuesday morning.
"Sorry for disturbing you so early, but my name is Graeme Hartford. I work for the Immigration Control Department, and I'm here with my colleague, Simeon Hutchinson, who is representing the British Government."
Wendell Wilkins' eyes darted behind the two men to see two Australian Federal Police cars parked on either side of a large black Ford Fairlane. "Oh?"
"Nothing to worry about, I can assure you, but we just need you and your wife to come with us to the British Consulate as we require your assistance in a small matter."
"What matter? The British Consulate? But that's in Canberra. Why on earth do you need to speak to us there?"
"Sir, due to its sensitive nature we are not at liberty to discuss it here. I can assure you that this is for your safety and protection. We have a car waiting to take you to the airport," Hartford told him, gesturing to the vehicle parked in front of the Wilkins' well-appointed home in suburban Melbourne.
"Who is it, Wendell?" A bubbly voice chimed from the kitchen, followed by a chestnut-curled woman stepping into the hallway.
"Mrs Wilkins?"
Unlike her husband, Monica seemed to have a more open disposition and regarded the news that they had to visit the British Consulate to assist as a matter of duty rather than a matter of suspicion.
"Come on, love," she said, rubbing her husband's arm soothingly. "Let's go and get dressed and then we can help these gentlemen. It won't take long to fly to Canberra and back, especially if we're on a government flight."
Neither Wendell or Monica noticed that Simeon had been rather quiet during these exchanges, allowing Graeme to do all the talking. However, he was not standing around like a loose end. All the while he was monitoring them, casting a whole raft of diagnostic spells on the couple whilst they spoke.
"We are on a schedule," Hartford announced, "but we can allow you thirty minutes to get ready and make any arrangements that you need."
"Thank you," Monica said politely before turning to her husband. "I'll just go and call Sarah."
"Sarah?" Graeme enquired, trying to sound oblivious, but he knew exactly who Sarah was. She was a Squib agent who his department used to help protect vulnerable Muggles when they had been inadvertently exposed to magic. Her latest assignment started two weeks ago when the former incumbent of her role had mysteriously resigned, only to find a job at a rival dental practice the next day.
"His receptionist. Only started a couple of weeks ago after Wendy left. She got poached by a rival practice," Monica told him, with a shrug and a twist of her lips. "I presume we will be gone all day? I just need to know so that I can tell her whether to cancel all his appointments for the day or if we can save some of the late afternoon ones. He hates cancelling on patients."
Hartford nodded. "Best make it all day."
"OK. Won't be a tick," the woman said cheerily as she ushered her husband upstairs.

Wendell was not convinced. Something didn't feel right—not that he went on gut feelings. He was a logical man, unlike his wife, who seemed to be far more accepting of the situation than he thought she should be.
Walking up behind her husband, Monica wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his back. "Maybe this has something to do with those people who were hanging around outside the surgery the other day."
"Who told you about them?" Wendell asked cautiously.
"Sarah."
"But why would Immigration and the British Government want to speak to us? And anyway, those people were just weirdos. They weren't anything to worry about. We can't be dragged all the way to Canberra just for that. "
"Perhaps something's happened back at home. That would explain why someone from the embassy is here and Immigration would have had our address. They said they were working together, after all."
"But what would have happened back home? We don't have any family over there."
Monica sighed deeply, her eyes becoming glassy. "That we can remember."
"Oh, don't start on that reincarnation bullshit again," Wendell snapped. "I really wish you hadn't seen that witch of a psychiatrist now."
"A witch? You are so melodramatic," Monica snorted, "but at least she helped to explain my maternal feelings and sense of loss."
Wendell wanted to be sympathetic―he really did―but he found it very hard to talk about Monica's feelings which, as far as he was concerned, had only started since they'd moved to Australia. He wasn't sure why they didn't have children. He'd never thought himself as being against the idea, and he remembered a time when they had tried, but Monica just never fell pregnant. But having not gone through the rigmarole of doctors and fertility investigations, he assumed that having children had never be a major priority in their lives.
And then Monica started waking up in the night crying for her lost baby. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to do. At first he thought it was just the move that caused the bad dreams and comforted his wife every time she woke up. But the dreams kept happening, they both lost sleep, and it began taking a toll on their relationship. Even with therapy, their relationship was suffering because although Monica was convinced by the efficacy of her sessions, Wendell, ever the skeptic, was not.
"Please...I can't...not now."
Exhaling through her nose, Monica squeezed her husband's upper arms. "All right, well let's go and get this over and done with this, then," she sighed, leaving Wendell standing there to brood for a moment.

The Australian Minister for Magic's private jet landed to another round of grumbling from Wendell Wilkins. His wife, who'd given up trying to calm him, was engaging in small talk with Graeme Hartford as the car carrying Hermione Granger's parents and the two wizards from the airport, arrived at a nondescript warehouse building on the outskirts of Canberra. It was, in fact, the entrance to the Australian Auror training and medical centre to which Hartford, as head of Auror training, had unparalleled access.
"This isn't the British Consulate," Wendell protested.
"It is," Simeon assured, "but I'm sure you've seen enough Bond films to know that there is a need for secret entrances to government buildings."
Wendell snorted. "Yes, but that's not real."
"And that's what we want you to think," the healer told him knowingly.
The thought of secret entrances and assisting in the unknown sent a wave of nervous excitement through Monica, but Wendell, although slightly appeased, still felt uncomfortable about the situation, and given what was about to happen, quite rightly so.
The couple were led from the car and through a series of black tiled corridors before finally arriving at a plush white office with two large white sofas and three armchairs―two of which were occupied―and a large coffee table. It had a very clinical feel to it and a huge aquarium of tropical fish graced one wall of the room.
"So this is the evil lair?" Wendell muttered to his wife. "I'm expecting a white fluffy cat to appear soon."
"I'm afraid the only white fluffy cat I know of is my partner's, and that, thankfully, is safely ensconced back in the UK," a deep, drawling voice declared from one the armchairs.
Both seated men stood, and turned to face the couple who had just entered the room.
Ushering them towards the two tall wizards, Graeme announced, "Wendell, Monica, allow me to introduce Severus Snape and Pius Thicknesse. These gentlemen have flown all the way from the UK to speak with you on behalf of the British Government regarding an ongoing investigation."
As the Australian official spoke, Severus observed his future in-laws carefully whilst gently probing their minds. Myriad thoughts coursed through his own mind as he faced the two people who'd created the most important person in his life―two people, who at the moment, did not know that their daughter existed.
However, no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept turning to his witch because it was so easy to see Hermione in her parents. She had Helen's colouring, and although her hair was shorter than her daughter's, the curls were just as riotous. As far as Severus was concerned, Hermione would always be beautiful in his eyes, and yet if the adage, 'if you want to know what your girlfriend will be like in later life, look at her mother' was true, then he couldn't help but feel rather smug.
Hermione's facial features, apart from her eye colour, had been inherited from her mother, and he could feel Hermione's calmer nature filtering through Helen as she spoke. The pale blue-eyed woman was obviously very intelligent, but from what Hermione had told him about her mother, something in her demeanour seemed off to Severus. It didn't quite feel like her own, but he didn't have time to investigate further given the incessant questions that her father was asking. Between that and the range of annoyed expressions that were flitting across his face, it was obvious who Severus had to blame for that trait.

"So what can we help you with?" Monica asked politely as she placed the cup of coffee that Pius had offered them both on the low table separating them.
"We would like to ask you a few questions about this young woman," Pius said, straining slightly as he pushed a Muggle photograph of Hermione towards them.
As soon as Monica took the picture, Simeon and Severus began performing diagnostic spells and Legilimency, respectively, on the couple to ascertain what they remembered, if anything. What they found, and what Monica herself had unconsciously confirmed, was that she remembered more than Wendell.
"Actually, she does seem familiar. There was a girl who lived by us―I only remember seeing her during the summer holidays though. Oh, what was her name, Wen?"
"No idea, I've never seen her before," he retorted, trying to ignore the feeling that he believed his wife was losing her mind. However, upon closer inspection, she did seem vaguely familiar. She was quite attractive and Wendell was not immune to a pretty girl, especially one that reminded him of Monica in her youth.
Pius looked between Simeon and Severus, who both nodded their assent to provide the next piece of information. "Her name is Hermione Jean Granger."
"That's such a pretty name," Monica mused distractedly, gazing once again at the photograph. "And such a coincidence. My grandmother's name was Hermione and my mum's name was Jean. In fact, I always said that if we'd had a little girl we'd have called her Hermione Jean. A few months ago we looked into adoption―"'
"Well, you did," Wendell muttered, which earned him a glare that Severus himself often received from Hermione.
"But at our age we could only adopt a teenager, and Wendell wouldn't hear of it," she said quietly, the yearning for a child evident in her voice.
"Yes, blame it on me, why don't you? We're too old to take on that kind of responsibility."
"We're only fifty-nine."
Wendell almost growled; his expression tightened as he spat out, "Monica, please, not now."
"May I ask why you were considering adoption?" Simeon asked, sensing that there was more behind Monica's wish to adopt a child.
Wendell exhaled forcefully, thumping his head back against the sofa. "Did you have to ask her that?"
"Well, you see, my wife and I are thinking about it," the healer said pleasantly, "and we don't know anyone else who has considered it. I am just curious to know your wife's reasoning."
Wendell shook his head as Monica began to tell the room about how incomplete she had felt since they had moved to Australia. Her openness surprised Severus. Hermione was prone to rambling, but she was never that open with people she hardly knew.
He continued to listen as Monica told them of her nightmares and insomnia and that after numerous visits to the doctor, she had been referred to a psychiatrist who used various techniques, including mind regression to get to the root of her problems.
Severus hadn't realised what he'd done until it was too late. He'd groaned incredulously and brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose at the mention of mind regression. As a master Legilimens and Occlumens he understood the mind better than most and, in his opinion, mind-regression was a very woolly discipline, something which bored Muggle psychiatrists dabbled in without fully understanding the consequences.
"See, he hasn't heard the best of it, but even he agrees," Wendell exclaimed triumphantly.
Severus' intention had not been to belittle Monica, and he was somewhat perturbed by her husband's attitude. More to the point, he was downright pissed off that Wendell was trying to use him to make his point. "My apologies, Mrs Wilkins. Your husband has misunderstood my indignance. I merely believe that there are more effective ways of helping you to understand the feelings you are experiencing. But please continue."
"What do you mean, you believe there are more effective ways?" Wendell asked defiantly, making Severus bristle.
Pius smoothly interjected before Mr Wilkins risked finding himself on the end of a mild hex. "Oh, we like to think of Severus as our resident mind expert. Bloody handy to have on this type of assignment."
Wendell rolled his eyes―his annoyance at losing a potential ally obvious―as Monica continued whilst dark eyes watched her very carefully. The more Severus heard, the more concerned he became. Hermione had told him that her mother was much more laid back than her father, but he knew that she was not given to flights of fancy.
Of one thing, though, he was sure: Monica believed what she was talking about, and that led him to the conclusion that the spell was either failing, or it had not been as effective as Hermione hoped. However, given Wendell's almost vindictive, unemotional display, he suspected that it had worked a little too well on her father.
Having heard enough, Severus looked over at Hartford and flicked his eyes back towards Monica meaningfully. He would work on restoring her memories first.

"So what exactly has this girl done?" Wendell asked, annoyance now lacing his voice.
"She hasn't done anything," Pius replied casually, "except report her parents missing. She said that they had been talking about emigrating to Australia for a while. However, we believe that they may be in trouble as two people fitting the description of her parents opened up new bank accounts under false names."
"Now, obviously, we are keen to find this couple to ensure that they are safe," Hartford continued, "but also if they have entered the country under false names and documentation, then it is a very serious situation indeed."
Pius, again, took over seamlessly. "Therefore, having exhausted our own extensive investigations, we and the Australian authorities have been liaising and reviewing all UK emigration cases to Australia since July last year."
Hartford began to apply a little more pressure. "It seems a little coincidental that your wife recognises the young lady, don't you think? And considering that you were the only couple in your locale who emigrated to this country last July, which incidentally is when Miss Granger claims that her parents went missing, I find the coincidences mounting, don't you?"
Wendell was incensed. "Now hang on," he exclaimed angrily. "What exactly are you insinuating?"
"Absolutely nothing," Pius stated calmly. "However, you do seem a little agitated, Mr Wilkins."
That was the final straw. Wendell Wilkins had had enough of this farce. It was bad enough that they had been asked to help with these enquiries, but to suggest that there was some kind of impropriety on their part was preposterous. His face began to turn red, and the vein at his temple began to throb. "Well, so would you if you had to sit here and listen to this ridiculous―"
An interconnecting door opened and in stepped two athletic looking Australian Aurors. Severus noted that their wands were drawn and immediately indicated for them to stand down.
"Mr Wilkins," Hartford said firmly, "perhaps you could accompany me and these gentlemen into the next room whilst our UK colleagues continue to speak to your wife."
"Certainly not," Wendell protested, standing stiffly with his fists clenched.
"Wendell, love, don't make a scene. It will be all right. I'm happy to answer their questions."
If Severus closed his eyes, he could hear Hermione in her mother's voice; the tone, the intonation, and the soothing softness in which he often sought comfort. Her father, however, seemed more like him than he cared to think about.
Still protesting, Wendell backed away from Hartford, who had begun to approach him, until his legs hit white leather, causing him to collapse onto the sofa. Seconds later, however, he seemed unnaturally calm, and Severus knew it had nothing to do with the comforting tone of his wife's voice. As the previously cantankerous man stood at the Australian Ministry official's insistence and was led into the other room, it was obvious that Hartford's muttered Imperious Curse had been successful.

Having watched her husband acquiesce so easily, a look of confusion fell across Monica's face, but as she was about to speak, Pius immediately offered her another cup of coffee, which she graciously declined.
"Monica―can I call you Monica?" Severus asked with quite uncharacteristic charm.
Hermione's mother chuckled demurely. "Of course, you can, Severus. You know that really is an unusual name."
"My mother had a fascination with Roman history and our ancestry is Italian," Severus offered, taking a sip of the coffee that Simeon had poured him.
Monica nodded, and Severus immediately recognised her daughter's Know-It-All demeanour takeover. "Yes, I know Severus was an emperor. I believe he died and was buried in York. I remember seeing a statue of him in the British Museum and if I recall rightly, the Triumphal Arch in Nancy was based on the arch of Septimus Severus, which is in Rome."
Oh God, I miss her, the raven-haired wizard thought to himself, but he was snapped out of his reverie as Monica continued.
"But no, I've heard your name somewhere else. I just can't think..."
Snorting softly, Severus told her, "I'm sure it will come to you. Now, if I might ask you a few―"
"It was her," Monica announced, animatedly pointing to the picture of Hermione.
All three wizards quickly glanced at each other before Pius, ever the epitome of calm, asked, "I'm sorry, Monica, what about her?"
Severus' yearning for his soulmate was only increased as Monica twisted her mouth, considering what to say. He'd lost count of the times he had seen that expression on Hermione's face.
"Look, I know you probably already think I'm a bit loopy, but I'm sure I've spoken to this Hermione. I can't remember when or the exact circumstances, but I'm sure she mentioned someone called Severus once. I got the impression that she fancied him, but they'd had a row or something and she didn't think she'd ever speak to him again."
Pius was quick to reassure her that none of them thought she was loopy, when she added as only a protective mother can, "I hope he regrets upsetting her, she's a very pretty girl."
Yes, I do, but it's all right now because, you see, we're soulmates and I love your daughter more than life itself and she loves me―I still can't believe it, but she does. Perhaps it would be better to save that speech for another time, Sev.
Clearing his throat, Severus responded awkwardly. "I'm sure he does, and you are correct: she is a very pretty girl."
Monica gave Severus a soft smile, before sitting back and slapping her hands on her thighs. "Oh now, listen to me babbling on. You wanted to ask me some questions. So, what do you want to know?"
Severus looked to Simeon, who nodded imperceptibly.
"Mrs Granger, look at me," Severus drawled commandingly, all trace of the softness he'd employed moments ago gone from his voice.
Monica's brow furrowed before looking up into the black eyes of the man before her. Little did she know, this would be the last time Monica Wilkins would look into the eyes of anyone, when she enquired, "What did you call me?"
The last word that Monica Wilkins heard was a softly spoken, "Legilimens.

Helen Granger felt as if she was about to suffocate. Someone had turned out the lights and she was gasping for air whilst an incredible pressure was applied to her head. A familiar voice was telling her to relax, but she wasn't sure why the voice was familiar or to whom the voice belonged. The last thing she heard before everything went white was a newsreader and a sweet female voice saying, "I love you two, you know," and then a rich, silky voice saying, "Ah, there it is."

Despite his unrivalled skills, Helen Granger's mind alteration had taken its toll on Severus Snape. After pulling out of her mind, he slumped back into his chair and asked, "Is she under?"
"She is," Simeon confirmed, reassuring the headmaster that he had successfully placed Hermione's mother under a heavy Sleeping spell and that her mind was working as expected whilst her memories were reintegrated. However, one thing concerned the healer. "Any idea why there is such disparity in their memory blocks? Helen's memory leakage is far more than just the effects of using the Praesente."
Severus stifled a yawn, and went to pour himself a coffee, but found the pot empty. Growling petulantly at having his need for caffeine thwarted, his response was more terse than intended. "It wasn't bloody intentional."
"I didn't say it was," Simeon snapped. He immediately looked at the dark wizard, flinching as he anticipated the glare that―to his surprise―did not happen. Bolstered by this, he carried on. "What Hermione did was remarkable, but I am just surprised that her mother's mind was so easy to break into when, from what we have both seen, Michael is going to be a far harder task."
Severus raked a hand through his hair, grateful for the fact that Hermione suggested a haircut before leaving, knowing that the heat would annoy him―and she was right.
"I believe it is to do with the positioning of her parents when Hermione cast the spell," he explained. "From what I saw in Hermione's mind, she was standing directly behind her father with her mother sitting right next to him. He took the brunt of the magic. Ideally, she should have cast the spell individually, but―"
"―the whys and the wherefores do not matter, Severus. Hermione is one of the most talented witches I have ever encountered. Not many would have had the ability, let alone the forethought to carry off what she did, especially under immense emotional strain. You must be very proud of her."
Severus snorted softly. "Extremely. She is certainly not a woman to be trifled with, and that is one of the reasons why I―"
"Fucking hell! Have you finished already?" Pius enquired incredulously as he sauntered back into the room. Once Severus and Simeon had begun to attend to Helen, he'd gone to assist Hartford with her husband.
His companions glared at him, slightly perturbed by the older wizard's brashness. However, Pius was either oblivious to this or chose to ignore them as he announced, "I'll tell you something for nothing: it's easy to see where Hermione gets her charming personality from, and it certainly isn't from her father."
Simeon's brow furrowed. "Causing trouble is he?"
"If he were a woman, I would say he was a hellcat," Pius grumbled before checking the coffee pot. Finding it was empty, he huffed before sinking into one of the armchairs. "They've had to Imperio him four times."
"All the best people need four Imperio's before they take hold," Severus teased whilst looking over at the sleeping form of Helen Granger. "Oh well, now I know where Hermione's hot-headed rants come from."
"Yes, but her ranting is surely tempered by Helen's charming nature."
Shaking his head, Severus smirked, "No, not really. In fairness, she only rants when she feels particularly strongly about something, or when she's hormonal. Thankfully, Lucius is dealing with that this month. I offered him my sympathies before I left."
Simeon laughed and Pius rolled his eyes before saying rather lasciviously, "But surely the make up sex is worth it?"
"But surely that is none of your business?" Severus retorted, growling when he recognised Pius' determined expression. He knew his friend was about to start digging for more lurid information.
Smirking, Pius asked casually, "So, it's not true that your chambers at Hogwarts have extra Silencing charms in place so that no one can accidentally overhear you two having sex, then?"
Severus' eyes widened. "Who the hell told you that?"
Pius shrugged. "A little bird."
"A little dragon, more like," Severus groused, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair.
"Ah, so it is true?"
Severus shook his head. "That is the conclusion Draco has drawn, but it is an erroneous one. For years, I was unable to listen to the kind of music I like, at the volume that I wanted. Now that I'm Headmaster and no longer live in fear of the Dark Lord or his minions dropping by for a cup of tea and a Crucio, I decided that I will listen to whatever I like, when I like, and at whatever volume I like. However, I realised that it wouldn't do for the students to think that I was vaguely human, so I set the extra wards."
Pius nodded, as if indicating that he understood before adding impassively, "And it means you can have sex in the living room."
Arching an eyebrow, Severus' scowled at his friend briefly, knowing that Pius was indefatigable when seeking any kind of information. Finally, he conceded, "It has been known, but if you don't mind, I would rather not discuss my sex life when the mother of the woman with whom I have sex, is laying unconscious on the sofa opposite me."
Simeon, who had been chuckling away as the other two bantered, cast another diagnostic spell over Helen's sleeping form. Pleased with the result, he informed his two companions that they would only need to wait another twenty minutes before she would come round naturally.
"That long?" Pius grumbled, looking at the woman lying on the sofa.
"We need to give her mind time to reconnect," Simeon told him with a tone of exasperation. They had been over the plan many times, but Pius did seem particularly prone to forgetfulness when he wanted a speedy resolution or was bored.
"She has just undergone a massive mind alteration," the blue-eyed healer continued, "although it seems to have gone quite smoothly, hasn't it, Severus?"
Dragging his hand down over his face, Severus puffed out a breath. "Mrs Granger was relatively straightforward but that's because the spell was failing." Jerking his head towards the door that separated them from Wendell Wilkins, the Legilimens twisted his mouth in consternation. "He, however, is a completely different cauldron of frogs. His mind is damned near perfectly guarded, and I have no idea how long it will take me to break in and start work."
Pius threw his head back and looked up at the ceiling. "So to clarify, when Severus' mother-in-law comes round we introduce ourselves, make sure she knows who she is, and then Simeon will induce a deeper medical coma. Is the coma really necessary?"
The other two men both rolled their eyes at Pius' impatience.
"It will help her mind heal quicker, and will remove any unnecessary confusion which could cause quite serious damage," Simeon reiterated to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. His attention was then diverted to Severus, who, he noted, had closed his eyes and was squeezing them tightly together whilst pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Are you all right?" Simeon asked urgently, which immediately drew Pius' attention.
"You look even paler than usual, my friend," Pius added, his voice, too, full of concern.
Resting his elbow on the arm of his chair, Severus supported his head with two fingers at his temple and a thumb on his cheek. Exhaling forcefully, he admitted, "I must confess that I am tired. I have been practicing for weeks, but there is a certain stamina required for actual forays into someone's mind, especially when there are consequences should anything go wrong."
Pius narrowed his eyes and looked to Simeon before his attention flicked back to Severus. "Will you be able to attend to Michael today?"
"Michael," a weak female voice muttered, still drowsy from the effects of Simeon's Sleeping spell.
The attention of all three men snapped to the previously unconscious woman. Simeon was the first to speak. "Mrs Granger?"
"Yes," she confirmed cautiously, her eyes barely open as the figures before her came into focus. She'd seen these men before, but she couldn't remember where. All she knew, as the room continued to spin slowly, was that her husband was not in the room. "Where...where's Michael?" she mumbled as she tried, but failed, to sit up.
Simeon frantically cast diagnostic spells as Pius reassured her. "Your husband will be here shortly, Mrs Granger." As he spoke, he looked to the healer to see if he'd heard enough to place Helen into a magically induced coma.
Simeon nodded and was about to cast the spell, when all of a sudden lucidity struck and Helen's eyes widened in panic. Pushing herself up, she looked directly at Severus, the urgency of her question startling all the room. "Hermione, where's Hermione? Is she safe?"
Severus maintained eye contact with Hermione's mother and spoke calmly, realising the significance of this, their very first exchange. "Madam, I can assure you that Hermione is perfectly safe back in the UK. I spoke to her this morning and she is well."
"You spoke to―"
Helen's words ended abruptly as Simeon induced her coma.
Despite noting the ferocity of Severus' glare, Simeon failed to be intimidated by it as he knelt to check his patient's status. Slowly turning to the glowering wizard, he said, "I'm sorry, Severus, but you were in danger of saying too much. We cannot risk her mind at this delicate stage no matter our personal feelings."
Severus' anger was quick to rise. "How dare you suggest—"
A gently placed hand on his arm startled the surly wizard, but the calmly spoken words seemed to appease him―thankfully. "I appreciate that this is a very difficult time for you, Severus," the healer told him, his practiced bedside manner coming to the fore. "You've never been in this position before, but there will be plenty of time for you to talk with her about Hermione, later."
"Yes, the rest of his life," Pius teased playfully.
Severus was unusually quiet―a curtain of hair shielded his eyes as he hung his head―but his gaze was firmly fixed on Helen Granger. Finally, a sense of calm washed over him and his shoulders slumped as the tension within them dissipated. An imperceptible smile crept over his face. He still believed Hermione's parents would thoroughly disapprove of him, but Pius was right, he did have the rest of his life to prove himself worthy of their daughter.
He snorted as Pius continued his attempt to break the tense atmosphere. "You know as mother-in-laws go, you've done all right for yourself, old chap."
"Yes, it's a shame dear old Drusilla isn't still alive," Severus countered in an impassive drawl before chuckling as he recalled the number of times Lucius had sought sanctuary whenever his mother-in-law had arrived unexpectedly or overstayed her welcome.
Pius snorted. "From what Lucius has told me, I believe I should be grateful for small mercies."
"Gentlemen, as entertaining as mother-in-laws can be―my own, thankfully, is not too bad―I have to ask if you are all right to continue, Severus?"
"If you get me a coffee and I take these," the Potions master answered, pulling vials of Invigoration Draught and Wit-Sharpening potion from the inside jacket pocket of his Muggle suit, "I will be. Or else allow me a couple of hours' sleep."
Knowing that the second option would be preferable for Severus, Simeon was also aware that Wendell's increasing agitation could prove detrimental to the recovery of his mind. Therefore, bowing his head, the healer did his best house-elf impression. "Sir is wanting a coffee, sir is getting a coffee."

As Helen Granger was carefully removed by medical staff and made comfortable in a private room within the Auror medical facility, Severus closed his eyes, taking deep, centring breaths to prepare himself for his task.
He'd managed to block out all extraneous noise when a voice demanding to speak to his lawyer pulled him from the sanctuary of his mind.
Hartford entered the room, followed by Wendell, who was being manhandled by two burly Aurors after he'd managed to shake off another Imperius.
"Where is Monica?" he asked urgently. "I want to see her now."
Whilst Pius and Simeon tried to appease the struggling man by telling him that his wife had just stepped out of the room for a moment, Severus, once again, brought his mind under control, ready to start what he knew would be an arduous task.
The commotion in the room was rising when Severus Snape's eyes snapped open, and he stood silently from his chair, jerking his head to the Aurors to bring Hermione's father to the sofa. Once the man was where he wanted him to be, the headmaster spoke.
"Mr Granger?"
That name immediately got the angry man's attention, but before he could say anything else, Severus' black eyes had him transfixed, and a deep voice intoned some kind of gobbledygook.
Everything went blank for Wendell Wilkins.

Pius, Simeon, and Graeme furtively glanced at each other whilst observing Severus with concern. He had been working on Michael Granger for two hours without a break or refreshment, his brow studded with beads of sweat.
"Is this normal?" Pius asked uneasily. "I've seen him rifle through people's minds, but he was never like this."
Simeon shook his head. "Well, he has to be much more careful with these two. There is a lot riding on this for him, but as much as I expected Michael's mind to be harder to infiltrate than Helen's, I can't believe the strength of the wards. According to my diagnostics, Severus is no further in than he was ninety minutes ago."
"Bloody hell!" Pius exclaimed. "I know she's brilliant, but surely someone as skilled and powerful as Severus can break through a spell cast by a frigging seventeen-year-old."
Simeon shrugged.
"Can we get Severus to take a break or something?" Hartford asked pensively, his brow furrowed as he noticed the wizard's hand beginning to shake.
The healer sighed and clasping his hands at the back of his head, he nodded. "I'll cast a Stasis spell on Michael's mind and that will snap Severus out of it."
Graeme raised an eyebrow. "Is that safe?"
"After working on the Janus Thickey ward for the last fifteen years, I think it's safe to say that I know what is and isn't safe for the mind." Simeon's timid nature always seemed to disappear whenever his professional standing was being questioned.
"No offence meant, mate," Hartford said, holding up his hands.
Simeon looked apologetic for a moment before he carefully cast a Stasis spell, and Severus' eyes immediately focused.
"Why the fuck did you―"
"―Severus, you've been at it for two hours. You cannot carry on for too much longer without running the risk of becoming tired and making a mistake. Give your mind a few moments, for pity's sake, man," Simeon told him, pushing vials of Invigoration and Wit-Sharpening potions into his hand. "Take these."
"Here," Pius said, thrusting a glass of iced water at him whilst Graeme transfigured a towel from one of the napkins on the coffee tray.
Wiping his face, Severus took the potions and drank the water before speaking again. "The protections on his mind are practically impenetrable," he groaned, rubbing his temples.
"Headache Potion?" Simeon offered.
Shaking his head, Severus declined. "I only need a moment. I want to resume as soon as possible."
Pius rolled his eyes as Simeon exhaled noisily.
"Maybe you do only need a moment, but you will take this Headache Potion. You will drink two more glasses of water and then you can―"
Severus downed one glass of water and was about to start the second when Simeon chided,
"―don't gulp that one down. Taking a ten-minute break will not kill anyone. Now, you can resume after you finish that glass of water, but you will take a break every forty-five minutes and rest for fifteen."
Severus scowled at being treated like a five-year-old, but he was quite grateful―even if he wouldn't admit it―for the break. Like Hermione's mind, Michael's was highly organised, and somehow when his daughter cast the spell, she managed to erect incredibly thick walls. Normally, Severus could find a weakness within thirty minutes and punch through it causing the barrier to fall, but he hadn't found any weaknesses yet.
He was tired and frustrated, but he had to do this for Hermione, and he had to do it safely―there could be no dubious work here.
Finishing his water, he placed the glass on the table and took a deep breath. "I shall resume. See you forty-five minutes―hopefully sooner."
His three companions tried to look positive. However, they saw Severus take another three breaks before he finally managed to break down the barriers to Michael's protected memories.
Triumphantly, an exhausted Severus nodded for Simeon to place Michael under a Sleeping spell before turning to Pius to speak. A heartbeat later and everything went black.
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The Headmaster's Wife