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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After	By : ElizabethStump Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 90306 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 62
- 63
- 64
“And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After”

Chapter Sixty-Two

“The Ministry's Halloween Masked Ball”

Disclaimer: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that JK Rowling, in possession of a good story, must own Harry Potter and all its concepts. However little known the feelings or views of such a writer may be on her first encountering fanfic, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding fanfic writers and readers of Harry Potter fanfic, that it is considered polite and a legal necessity to claim that Harry Potter is the rightful property of Rowling.

A/N: Disclaimer is a parody of Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice.

============

Severus awoke to Draco shaking him firmly by the shoulder.

"Testing went that well last night?" Draco chuckled, a wry smile upon his lips.

Lifting his head from his pillow, Severus looked about in confusion, his hair heavily mussed from having been put to bed still slightly damp. He couldn't remember how he had made it to the bed last night. The last thing he remembered was Hermione washing the sweat from his body in the bath before exhaustion overtook him.

"Better get up; it's time for our parole meeting," Draco reminded Severus before going to his armoire to yank out his friend's clothes, chucking underpants, shirt, trousers and socks at his head, while Severus was trying to rouse himself, still feeling disoriented.

His body ached.

Last night was a partial blur once he took the second potion. Severus would definitely be recommending a strong warning on the box that no one should ever take both potions.

Before Severus left with Draco for his weekly meeting with Kingsley, Marf informed him that Hermione had left some marked vials and scrolls for him on the kitchen table. Severus directed the house-elf to deliver them to his office for review later.

At the Twenty-Four Blackbird Bakery, Draco had to order something for Severus, since the older wizard was still out of sorts.

"So what happened to you last night that has you more wankered than a house-elf drunk on butterbeer?" Draco prompted the Potions master.

Severus was still rubbing his face, noting he forgot to shave that morning. "I took both the Male Enhancement Potion and the Arousal Enhancing Potion last night." He paused for effect before adding, "At the same time."

Draco gave him an amusedly surprised look. "One of those is enough to wear any wizard out, but both at the same time? That intense?"

"That bad," Severus morosely answered, blinking owlishly as he was still trying to gather his scattered wits. "My 'assistant' had to give me the antidote after about the first forty minutes," he said, eluding to Hermione without naming her, should there be anyone overhearing them that early Friday morning in Diagon Alley. "I can barely remember what happened, but it will be interesting to read her account."

"Eww, glad I didn't try it myself. Which I was considering, until you said to wait," Draco added.

Once seated in Kingsley's office, Draco's mood began to turn for the worse, having been reminded of the recent events of Pansy's murderer's trial.

"I can't believe he got off, either," Kingsley said, in response to the look he got from Draco when the topic came up.

"How is it that despite the clear and damning evidence, he got off?" Severus asked, still upset over the verdict.

"Friends in high places. Bribes. The Ministry swinging in the complete other direction where attacks against Muggles were tolerated more during the last war, so showing tolerance for unjustly killing a Death Eater to somehow balance a previous injustice. Who knows," Kingsley said with dismay, perplexed himself as to what he thought was a simple open-and-shut case. "Some of us in the department have taken a keener interest in watching the bastard who got off scot-free." He nervously ran a hand over his bald pate.

This gave Draco little comfort, knowing the wizard who had killed his former fiancée would never be punished for her murder, but it was better than nothing. Kingsley was one in a very small circle of friends Severus and Draco could trust, but given that Kingsley was an Auror under the watch of Mad-Eye Moody, that trust could only extend so far.

"Now, today we'll have to keep this brief. As I'm sure you're aware, the Ministry’s Halloween ball is tonight, and I have a great deal of work to do to prepare for it. Moody is in quite a state regarding security, as this is open to everyone and no invitation is required, so he's rather concerned about who might show up," Kingsley further explained, giving a pointed glare at both of them.

"As if Moody would be able to tell. From what I've heard, it's a masked ball and the whole point in that everyone is to remain anonymous and unknown." Severus cast about a bored glance.

"Which is why Moody is certain this will be a chance for someone – under the guise of invisibility in a throng of other masked individuals – to come and create a security hazard."

"Please," Draco drawled, as he rolled his eyes dramatically. "I wouldn't be caught dead at such an event, if Moody thinks I'm going."

"I didn't think so," Kingsley replied, regarding Severus as well to gauge the level of disdain he had marked upon his face at the idea of going to such a thing as a ball that would involve dancing, socializing and merriment. "Then I'll see you next week, gentlemen," he announced as he rose, seeing the pair out as he began his long day of preparations.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione was up bright and early, arriving at work even before the Twenty-Four Blackbird Bakery had opened at six that morning.

The Ministry had sent a memorandum around to all the departments that they were closing every department down at noon so that people could go home and prepare for the ball. Also, they wanted the preparations to commence for transforming the Ministry for the ball without employees getting underfoot or delaying the preparations of the Atrium.

Knowing that she would be expected to keep up with the inflow of shipments, despite having her work day shortened, Hermione got there extra early. She was pleased when Trevor showed up twenty minutes after her, having taken her suggestion to come early since they were closing down early.

As they both worked quickly and diligently to test the ingredients that had come overnight and kept arriving, since a lot of ingredients were harvested in the autumn and this was near the peak of season, Hermione kept a keen eye for an elusive box of fluxweed picked at full moon.

Watching the clock, Hermione noticed the time was coming close to wrap everything up for the day and week. Trevor and his mentor began cleaning up the lab and were about to head out the door when another shipment of boxes came in, followed immediately by Madam Dushka.

"All right. Time to get going. Thank you for having everything finished by noon," their supervisor said as she tried to rush the pair out of the lab.

"Hang on a second," Hermione said, pretending to leave something behind while checking the side of the boxes. Obscured by the boxes, she pretended to pick up a dropped quill as her eyes scanned the labels.

For a moment, Hermione knelt there, frozen, eye-to-label with a large and sturdy looking box of fluxweed picked at full moon, the large printing staring right back at her.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Madam Dushka bellowed. "Preferably today?" she said sarcastically in order to hurry her employee out so they could lock the lab, per Head Auror Mad-Eye Moody's instructions.

There were going to be thousands of witches and wizards packed into the Ministry tonight, and security was to be extra tight for areas not only in the Atrium, but other places in the Ministry where the public would not be allowed. As Hermione, Trevor and their boss walked along the corridor, Kingsley Shacklebolt walked in the opposite direction towards them.

"All locked up," Madam Dushka announced.

"Thank you. I'll just make one last check since I need to be sure," the Auror said and continued on his way, but not before giving Hermione a brief nod in greeting, acknowledging the fellow Order of the Phoenix member.

Trevor and Madam Dushka missed the subtle exchange, which was fine with Hermione.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus' morning was no less busy. He was pleased by the detailed account that Hermione had left for him and Miss Brown, yet equally appalled at the results of the previous night's experiment which he could scarcely remember. He surmised that Hermione had finished bathing him and moved him to bed.

Pansy's murder trial and last night after testing. He did not like to rely on anyone, but it touched him that Hermione had been there when he had needed someone.

Lavender was too busy to read his short report of what he could remember, much less Hermione's more lengthy and accurate detailed account. She was busy sending last-minute owls to the press about her impending announcements at the masked ball, which seemed to have turned from a celebration into a platform for various people and organizations to make their announcements to the press since they would be there en masse, including many foreign journalists.

While Severus reviewed a Muggle cookbook Hermione had recently purchased for him that had recipes for fruit leathers and other "fun foods for children," Draco came over to knock on Severus’ office door.

"Deciding on opening a kindergarten in your next life?" the blond wizard joked.

"Hardly. Research for that elusive edible body paint that seems to be an ongoing process," Severus informed him.

"Why not get one of those Muggle edible body paint kits and reverse engineer from that?"

"Because we already did that, and half of the ingredients required a doctorate in Muggle Chemistry to pronounce, besides tasting worse than the French onion soup at the Three Broomsticks," Severus replied. "Even experimenting with Muggle jelly was rather unpleasant, flavor-wise."

Severus flipped over to a page featuring children's edible finger paints and felt the beginnings of inspiration unfurl in his mind.

"Well, don't take too much longer. Lav wants us to start getting ready for the ball soon. She's made up a batch of facial hair growth potion, and she wants your final opinion on it before letting us both use it for tonight," Draco said, before leaving to start his own preparations.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione didn't want to get ready for the ball. She was too excited that the fluxweed had finally arrived. She hoped Trevor would come in around his normal time Monday morning so she could pilfer some before he arrived and fill out another false report.

Ron was busy getting a haircut at the stylist's salon, as Bascom wanted him to visit a particular hairdresser to make him look sharp tonight, especially for the press. Of course, Ron would show up with a mask, but when it came time for the Mercury Broom Company to make some announcements, Ron would be unmasked.

Hermione hadn't shown Ron the latest dress she had purchased from Madam Mandel. Not that she needed his approval, even if he did disagree with some of her choices.

Going into the bathroom, she applied the temporary black hair dye. Fortunately, Madam Mandel had helped Hermione pick a color for her dress that would suit her temporary black locks for the ball, as well as her natural dark chestnut tresses.

Once applied, she set her hair to fall about her shoulders in smooth waves, since her gown was very reminiscent of the old Hollywood glamour style. She even affixed a large blue rose, in full bloom, to the side of her head, just above and behind her left ear as suggested. Madam Mandel had recently been looking to some of the vintage Muggle glamour looks for new inspiration for some of her designs. At the Yule Ball, during Hermione's fourth year at Hogwarts, teenagers were more likely to adopt the more modern fashion of Muggles, with wizarding flair of course, but the adults in the wizarding world seemed perpetually stuck in Victorian and Edwardian fashion. When Hermione purchased the matte silk charmeuse dress with the deep halter neckline, she was assured that no one would have a dress even remotely like hers, since many in wizarding society were still insisting on buying the full-skirt ball gowns, some proclaiming that it wasn't a proper ball gown unless they had the hoop petticoat or bustle to go with it.

Hermione liked the fact she'd have a sleek profile in which to slip through the crowds she expected, versus fighting with yards and yards of a ruffled and tiered skirt with its own postal code. Her dress could also work for an evening out in Muggle London, since retro fashion had come back into style for even her old world.

This was yet another dress that required that she not wear a bra, but Hermione knew the charms to hold herself in place, plus the charms for her black seamed stockings.

Slipping the dress on, she really liked the plunging halter neckline. It certainly dipped down far enough to give anyone glancing her way a peek at her cleavage since it dipped to the bottom of her chest line. She wasn't well endowed like Ginny was, but she still felt comfortable with what this neckline revealed. And though the back did not plunge nearly as far down as her black dress that Ron loathed, everything above her waist was exposed. At least she had a matching cloak to go with it. The opera length gloves in the same color put the final touch to the elegant and understated outfit.

Once dressed, she admired herself in the mirror, whose reflection kept breaking into broad smiles. The reflection even felt brave enough to speak this time and comment, "You are gonna knock them dead tonight, sweetheart."

Ron finally came home looking smart, freshly styled and shaved, before he ran off to the bedroom to change into his new dress robes for the evening. As he was buttoning his white shirt, he called out, "You dressed and ready to go, 'Mione?"

Ron's hair remained in its natural state, since he was going to do photos for the press at the event.

"Yes," she answered and appeared in the doorway, her cloak hanging over her arm still.

"That's your slip, right?" Ron asked.

"No, this is my dress," Hermione corrected him, fearing another blow-up over her choice of clothes.

"But ball gowns are supposed to..." he trailed off, his hands making gestures indicating to the voluminous skirt he expected Hermione to be sporting for the ball, his nose scrunching up, unable to articulate with words.

In order to cut him off before it turned into another row, Hermione said, "Just imagine how easy it will be to navigate the crowds if I don't have a skirt as big as a Quidditch hoop around my ankles."

Ron stopped and pondered that for a moment. Hermione could see the gears grinding furiously, and she nearly expected smoke to start coming out of his ears.

"You know, that's a lovely dress, Hermione. Good choice. Nice color, too," he remarked of the electric royal blue that complimented her hair and skin just so.

Once Ron was dressed in a set of black formal robes Bascom had had tailored just that week, they affixed their color-coordinated masks matching their outfits before Apparating to the Ministry.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Atrium of the Ministry was already packed when Mr. and Mrs. Ron Weasley arrived at a quarter past six. The event was not fifteen minutes underway, yet it looked like everyone was already there.

Just as Madam Mandel predicted, most of the witches there wore voluminous ball gowns, some looking as if they fit in better during the mid-nineteenth century than in the early twenty-first century. Ron immediately saw the wisdom in Hermione's choice of apparel, even though he thought a bit too much skin was exposed for his liking. Despite any reservations he may have had, he mostly kept his opinions to himself for once.

Near the recently installed statue, a band played music suitable for the socializing part of the evening while drinks and hors d'oeuvres were being served.

Ron was supposed to meet up with Bascom first thing upon arriving. They had agreed to meet near the elevators, which just also happened to be right by one of the seven bars set up at the ball.

After wading through the crowds and ducking trays of floating savories and nibbles, Ron finally spotted his sponsor and his wife, Mrs. Dagmar Nettleton. He waved at them as they approached.

"Ronny!" Bascom greeted his rising star before swiveling his gaze upon Hermione. "Hermione," he purred like a cat about to pounce on a bird.

Hermione stiffly offered her arm out to formally shake his hand at arm’s length. "Mr. Nettleton," she said sweetly, but with little warmth.

Instead of shaking, he bent down and kissed the top of her gloved hand. Hermione did her best to keep a sweet and detached smile upon her lips, while refraining a shudder of revulsion.

"Let me introduce you to my wife, Dagmar," Bascom announced to the pair. "Dagmar, this is Ron and Hermione Weasley. Ron will be our new 2004 calendar model."

"I'll bet he is," Dagmar agreed a little too wholeheartedly as she detached herself from her husband's side; the heavy silk taffeta of her red and black bustled skirt rustled as she sashayed over. Sidling up to Ron, she grasped his upper arm possessively as her eyes raked over Ron's form with the same appraisal Bascom was using on Hermione.

The older witch turned to view Hermione. "Ron, Bascom never told me what a lovely wife you have. Such a darling figure shown off in such a slinky dress!" Mrs. Weasley would have been initially flattered by such a compliment by another witch, but found the hungry look Dagmar gave her a bit discomforting.

Dagmar slipped a chummy arm into both Ron's and Hermione's before saying, "You two really should come over for dinner some time while Bascom is busy on one of his business trips. It would be lovely to get to know both of you so much better."

Hermione's eyes opened wide with the sudden knowledge of what the woman’s remark implied as Mrs. Nettleton's hand had discreetly slipped from Hermione's arm, to gently goose Hermione's young and firm arse through the smooth silk. At that moment, Hermione could see the advantages of a hoop skirt or bustle.

"I think I see Albert Dobmeir over there; I really should go say hello to him," Hermione said suddenly, trying not to be too flustered, her eyes nearly bulging with urgency to escape.

"Okay, I'll catch up with you later," Ron said blithely unaware that another witch had just come on to his wife.

Hermione beat a quick path away from the older couple and her husband in order to catch her breath and process just what happened. Glancing behind her shoulder, Hermione noticed Dagmar's hands were still fondling her husband's biceps. Ron seemed to be enjoying the attention and was flexing his biceps for her admiration, unaware that he was being appraised like a piece of meat by the older witch. Ron could really be a bit thick at times.

Leaning up against a pillar to survey the scene, Hermione looked about before spotting the twins, in matching outfits, with their hair still in its natural red state, standing near the punch bowl. She recognized them instantly, even with their masks. As she slid past the other guests, thankful for Madam Mandel's recommendation for formal wear as she slipped between hoop skirts like a fish swimming around rocks in a stream, she saw the twins peer about before doing something that she could not view from her current vantage point. As she got closer, she saw the twins look about once more before quickly walking away from the punch bowl, unaware that Hermione noticed them acting suspiciously. Glancing at the punch bowl, she saw the liquid swirl about as if it had just been hastily stirred, much like when an ingredient had just been quickly whisked into a cauldron.

Looking about, she spotted other witches and wizards imbibing in glasses of punch, procured before the new secret ingredient had been added. Discreetly scrutinizing the color and comparing with the punch in the bowl now, she noticed the iridescent pearl color and knew immediately the twins had put mother of pearl – and who knows what else – into the punch. It was one of the few non-alcoholic drinks available at the ball. Hermione was tempted to use her wand and "accidentally" cause the punch bowl to tip over, but before she could take any course of action, she heard someone call out her name.

"Hermione?"

She spun around to see a tall wizard with broad shoulders and a slender muscular frame, smiling at her with a warm and disarming smile.

"It's me," he said, before removing his mask to reveal himself. "Neville."

"Neville?" Hermione said in shock. She didn't remember Neville ever looking this good. He had been a bit of a pudgy boy during his early years at Hogwarts, but he certainly grew up to be quite a handsome young wizard. Even at the statue’s dedication ceremony and Harry's birthday party, she hadn't noticed how much he had changed from her old impressions that she still had of him in her mind.

"You look fantastic," Hermione said in earnest. 'Really fantastic; he cleans up very well. Stop staring, Hermione.'

"Well, look at you," Neville offered. "You were lovely at the Yule Ball, but this..." he trailed off. "Ron is quite a lucky wizard." He smiled at her in such a way that she knew he’d meant that in all sincerity, and not in a covetous manner, but as an old friend remarking how well she looked.

"Listen," she said, interrupting their reunion. "I just saw the twins put something in the punch."

"Not again," Neville complained. "They did that at the Yule Ball as well."

"They did?" Hermione was surprised she didn't know that.

"Oh, yeah. Told McGonagall, and she had the house-elves discreetly swap it out before anything got out of hand. Doesn't surprise me." Neville shook his head, not surprised that the twins still were up to the same old high jinks.

Hermione's admiration for Neville just went up several notches.

"Just a moment," he said as he excused himself momentarily.

Hermione watched as he went over to the bar and whispered something into a bartender's ear before joining Hermione once more.

"Taken care of," he said casually.

Glancing back over to the bowl, she suddenly noticed it was empty and one of the bartenders was bringing a new punch bowl over with fresh punch, this time with a closed glass lid charmed shut so nothing could be clandestinely added.

"I have a friend I'd like you to meet," Neville said to Hermione.

Hermione wondered if Neville had a new girlfriend he wanted to introduce. It had been almost a year since Luna called off the engagement. She had even returned his ring and they had remained friends, but Hermione wondered if he was seeing someone new.

As they came around a gaggle of witches with tall hair-dos and even taller feathers in their hair to match their masks, Hermione spied Lavender Brown amid a gathering of older wizards.

'Oh, my God, is Neville dating Lavender?' was the first thing that came to her mind.

Leading the way, Neville said, "Hermione, I'd like to introduce Albert Dobmeir."

Upon hearing his name, an older wizard, who looked like he was slightly over a hundred years old, turned around. He was a tall, slightly portly gentleman with salt-and-pepper colored hair – mostly salt – bright brown eyes, a ski-slope nose that was slightly bulbous at the end, and a distinct double chin.

"Albert, I'd like to introduce a long time and dear friend of mine, Hermione Granger."

Hermione finally had a face to go with the Potions master she would be apprenticing under. Severus had mentioned that she might have a chance to finally meet him at the ball. Her face brightened as she smiled openly at the older wizard who would be her mentor for the next few years at least.

"Mr. Dobmeir," she began with her hand outstretched to shake his, but was cut off.

"Call me Albert," he insisted, shaking her hand enthusiastically. "And you're the indomitable Mrs. Hermione Weasley." Off behind Albert, next to Lavender, an elderly wizard with silvery hair and an elaborate mustache began choking on his drink. "I'm so glad I've finally have had the chance to meet you, Hermione."

"And I, you."

"I'm sorry I haven't owled beforehand to meet with you in person, but there have been a lot of family and legal matters to deal with, I'm sure you understand," Albert apologized.

"I certainly can understand." Hermione assured him with a wave of her hand that it was no bother.

"I was just mentioning to Neville here about taking on a new apprentice, but I had no idea he knew whom it was, since I didn't mention it to him. But since you're such dear friends, that doesn't surprise me."

Neville swiveled his head between Albert and Hermione. "You mean," he interjected into their conversation, "that Hermione is your new apprentice?"

Hermione noticed a slight flash of surprise that she was the one, along with that familiar look she was accustomed to when people saw a witch of her age applying for an apprenticeship.

"Yes, that is why I thought that, since you're friends..." the elderly Potions master assumed.

"Neville and I haven't had a chance to catch up in a long while," Hermione offered, as a way to smooth over any possible embarrassment.

"So you're his new apprentice? That's fantastic, Hermione." Neville shook his friend's hand lightly in congratulations, before turning back to Albert. "I can't tell you how many times Hermione saved my neck in Potions."

Next to the elderly wizard with fancy waxed mustache and Lavender, a tall wizard dressed entirely in gold began to cough.

"Really now?" Albert said with keen interest behind some of those stories. "But since Neville speaks so highly of you, I can only feel better knowing I've taken on such a talented apprentice."

Hermione hoped she wasn't blushing.

"So, this is excellent, since as part of your apprenticeship, you'll be studying under Neville for some of your more advanced Herbology and taking care of my garden," Albert went on.

Hermione finally figured out how Albert Dobmeir and Neville were friends, at least.

Over Albert's shoulder, Hermione spied Lavender approaching.

"Hermione," Lavender said sweetly and gently hugged her, as if greeting an old friend, though they weren't that close despite having been dorm mates for seven years.

Lavender Brown was dressed head to toe in her signature color that matched her name, with even her hair matching her gown and mask.

"You know each other as well?" Albert asked.

Before Hermione could answer, Lavender began, "We were both in Gryffindor in the same year."

Hermione made a valiant effort not to react unfavorably to Lavender, knowing this was the same witch who set her husband up with one of her stable of "boys," Blaise Zabini, for a shag, not to mention arranged her initial meetings with her own paramour, Severus.

"My goodness, but you all know each other so well, this is like a reunion," Albert replied to the news of them being well acquainted.

"Hermione," Lavender said, her smile as perfectly cool and flawless as her appearance, "I'll like to introduce you to James White, my head of Marketing and Advertising."

The elderly wizard with the elaborate waxed mustache came forward and enthusiastically and warmly shook her hand. "Mrs. Weasley," the wizard drawled with an American southern accent that seemed familiar somehow.

Comprehension dawned behind her eyes briefly – before she schooled her features – that this much, much older wizard with the silvery-gray hair was Draco Malfoy. She had finally remembered Severus mentioning what Draco did for his unsanctioned work for the Lovely Lavender company. If it wasn't for her knowledge about Malfoy beforehand, she would have never guessed it was him.

"Mr. White," Hermione replied, shaking his hand back, a convincing smile upon her lips. "Please, call me Hermione."

"Why certainly. And you can call me Jim, though some friends call me Jimmy. Just don't call me late to dinner!" he laughed at his own joke and slapped his knee before resting his hands back on his cane.

Neville, Lavender and Hermione all laughed politely at "Jim's" corny and very old joke.

Hermione was stunned at how Draco looked nothing like his old self, and at his very good American accent, though the accent was so familiar in some way that she couldn't quite place it. His back was bent from age, and he had lost so much muscle mass, it was hard to believe that not hours before he was a tall well-built wizard beneath that old frame due to the Ageing Potion. In addition to that, he had a very prominent smile as if his teeth were almost too large for his mouth; when he smiled, it appeared to be all teeth that were somewhat askew, different from Draco's normally straight teeth. His hair was shorter and a silvery gray and up-swept, as if caught in a strong gust. He wore a simple black mask, so she could not tell if he had even changed his eye color or not. The waxed mustache was ridiculous, but quite appropriate for a wizard of his supposed age, as it had a very late Victorian quality about it, which suited the time period Draco was trying to impress for age. He was wearing a rather old-fashioned style set of dress robes, even though they were new and neatly pressed. And his cane had a rather large and obnoxious head of an American bald eagle cast in silver with one ruby eye and one blue sapphire eye.

Well, if anything, between the cane head, bad jokes and his accent alone, Draco was going to do a very good job of convincing everyone he was American. Hermione was sure of that.

"And this is Sebastian Delgado," Lavender continued, introducing the wizard who looked like a strutting gold peacock, "my Potions master. But you already are acquainted through correspondence."

Hermione blinked twice in surprise at the vision before her.

Severus had taken the Ageing Potion and his frame indicated he was older as she had seen him before, but the outfit was just so uncharacteristic, the word “ostentatious” would not have accurately described it. Granted, he was supposed to be a Spaniard, and Spanish wizards were known to be a bit over the top in their manner of dress compared to British fashion, but even Hermione was having trouble believing Severus willingly put on this outfit of his own volition.

The Potions master was wearing a pair of tasseled boots with what must have been a three-inch heel, for he was a couple inches taller than normal. He was wearing what looked like high-waisted gold breeches and a gold matador's jacket with puffed sleeves, heavily embroidered with ornate beadwork. His very frilly shirt was the only thing that wasn't gold on his whole being. And then there was the gold hat, which looked like it would have been better suited to be on one of the Three Musketeers than on a puffed-up matador peacock in head-to-toe gold. His "paunch" protruded slightly past the opening of his bolero-style jacket. And then there was the hair – very short, and also gold to match the gold pointed goatee he sported on his face. Even his eyebrows were gold, which blended into his gold mask.

Never in a million years would Hermione ever guess this Midas monstrosity, now giving a courtly bow before her, was Severus.

Hermione finally registered that Lavender mentioned that "Delgado" and she were acquainted through correspondence.

"Oh, you already know each other," Neville chimed in, to Hermione's dismay. "How did you meet?"

Even she and Severus had not quite worked out how they were going to justify Hermione's royalties on Potions when she and "Delgado" had never met, though Lavender just dropped the first hint.

"I'd love to hear the story behind that," Draco chirped, his eyes twinkling behind his mask, his grin broad and toothy.

"Oh, yes, though this is the first time we've met in person," Severus trilled, speaking with a Castilian accent; his voice was much higher than what Hermione was used to, more like a tenor; it had a sing-song cadence to it. "Mrs. Weasley owled me some years ago regarding an Potions apprenticeship, but at the time I was not taking any applications. But I remembered her application. So thorough, so thoughtful and well written," he said effusively, using his hands expressively, very uncharacteristically of the Severus she knew.

"So when I was stuck regarding the mass brewing of a certain potion Miss Brown here will be introducing later this year, I owled her for ideas. I had already asked a few other of my fellow Potion masters for ideas. They were stuck. Nada. So at my wits’ end, I thought I would owl this brilliant witch here who might have some new ideas. And indeed she did!" he exclaimed, grasping her hand and patting it affectionately, in gratitude.

"Really, that's amazing, Hermione," Neville remarked.

"And I when I decided to go back to Spain, I thought I would recommend her for an apprenticeship with Albert here, if she was still interested, which she was," Severus finished, having covered all the areas of question of how Hermione and Sebastian Delgado knew each other, should questions arise after Delgado and Snape left England around the same time.

Hermione did her best to play the humble witch who just had a simple idea, casting her eyes down in embarrassment of the bubbly praise of this Spanish wizard. In her mind, she was reeling, processing and committing to memory the story that was now public record with Albert, Neville and who knew who else as witnesses. She wondered if Severus had already worked out that story beforehand or had he made that up on the fly. The best lies are the ones based on a thread of truth, and in truth, Severus had been stumped as to how to brew the Male Enhancement Potion in large batches and Hermione was the one who’d offered the solution with brewer's kettles.

"I'm parched," Hermione said brightly. "How can a witch get a drink around here?"

"Let me show you the way to the bar, little lady," Draco offered, taking Hermione hand and tucking it into his arm, as if he was escorting his granddaughter. "That is a lovely color on you," he complimented her. "And is that your natural hair color or did you dye it like most of the witches here tonight? If you don't mind me asking. Hope it's not too forward of me."

"Not at all. It's dyed for the ball," Hermione answered him as she let herself be led off to the bar by a very graciously behaving Draco.

Now it struck Hermione: Draco sounded like that cartoon character, Foghorn Leghorn. But then again, that's how most English thought all Americans from the south sounded anyway.

Once they had put some distance between them and the group, Hermione let out a long breath.

Patting her hand, Draco assured her under his breath, "Just keep breathing, sugar." He maintained his southern accent.

"So, Jim. Or do you want me to call you Jimmy?" Hermione said, pretending this was truly the first time they had met.

"Whichever one you feel more comfortable with, my dear." He gave her another one of those overly toothy smiles.

While they waited in line at the bar, they kept up a believable patter of conversation befitting two people who just met and were becoming acquainted with each other.

Just as they were nearing the front of the line, Hermione heard her name called once again. Turning around, Hermione spotted Ginny, whom she recognized since they had gone dress shopping together and recognized each other by their outfits.

Ginny was wearing a emerald green sleeveless dress with a sweetheart neckline; the dress hugged her voluptuous curves until the mermaid skirt flared out dramatically just above the knee. She had also opted to wear something with a slimmer profile versus the other witches who looked like they would fit in with a Victorian ball. Together, Hermione and Ginny would have blended in perfectly with the glamorous golden days of Hollywood long past. Ginny kept her signature red locks, since so many others were going to dye their hair and hers was naturally striking, her hair complimented by the vivid green hue of her dress, mask and gloves.

"Ginny!" Hermione called out, glad to see another familiar face among the thousands that had packed the halls of the Ministry.

"Harry, Ginny, I'd like to introduce you to James White. He works for Lavender doing marketing," Hermione said, introducing the older wizard who was escorting her as the Potters approached.

"And advertising," Draco chimed in.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Jim. And advertising." Hermione tried to put on a performance as believable as the one Draco was putting on.

"Jim, these are my dearest friends, Ginny Potter and her husband, Harry," Hermione said, her hand gesturing for introduction.

Draco's face brightened. "Harry? Harry Potter?" His face busted out into a broad and vibrant grin. "Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit! Why, we've heard of you back in the States, even." Draco stuck out his hand and began vigorously shaking it, as if he was Harry's biggest fan. "My great-granddaughter, Tallulah, will just be so thrilled when I tell her I met you."

Harry started looking uncomfortable in the way he always did when treated as a celebrity, meeting strangers who were more familiar with the name and deeds than the person.

Draco went right on prattling in an excited fashion, "Can I get an autograph for my great-granddaughter, if you don't mind?"

Looking about nervously, Harry suddenly said, "Can I get back to you on that? I think my boss, Kingsley, is looking for me."

"Not a problem, Mr. Potter. Or can I call you Harry?" Draco asked with believable sincerity.

"Harry is fine," he said before slipping away off into the crowd to get away from yet another admirer.

Just then, it was Draco and Hermione's turn at the bar.

"I'll have a bourbon and butterbeer," Draco said firmly, slapping his hand on the counter.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't have bourbon," the bartender informed him, a bit put off by the brashness of this American. "We have Ogden's Old Firewhisky and Ogden's Single Malt Whisky."

"Fine. Two fingers of your strongest with ice cold butterbeer on top," Draco said heartily. "And you young ladies?"

"Two champagnes," Hermione replied, knowing what Ginny was going to ask for already.

Once they had their drinks, they meandered off to the side to let a group of wizards behind them "belly up to the bar," as Draco phrased it.

"What shall we toast to?" Draco asked.

Inspired, Hermione offered, "To all our hopes and dreams coming true, and sooner than we think."

Ginny looked at Hermione, to which Hermione nodded minisculely indicating that the fluxweed was a sure thing.

Glasses clinked and they drank.

Leaning forward, Ginny whispered in Hermione's ear, "Did you get it?"

"No, but the box came in right when they were closing up the lab. Monday, it will be done."

Wearing a smile as bright as the sun, Ginny said, "So Jim, you work for Lavender? How long have you been doing that?"

"Little over three years, but I'm missing family back home. So I'll be retiring soon anyway, time to head back. As lovely as my stay here in England has been, I'm itching to go," he said as he played with the twisted end of his heavily waxed mustache.

Hermione caught some of the double meaning behind Draco's words. She wondered where this new home for the trio would be. Severus had not divulged that to her, despite her guess that it might be Greece.

As the evening wore on, Hermione excused herself from the conversation Draco and Ginny were engaged in, noting they kept it very cordial. Hermione even introduced Draco's personality of James White to a few other people who had come over to talk with her, including Trevor, who was dressed in a rather vibrant set of plaid robes. Draco remarked he had a pair of curtains in his study back on his plantation in that exact pattern as Trevor's outfit. Trevor seemed to find no offense as Draco's underhanded slight at his choice of fashion, and began a lively discussion with the "elderly American" wizard about opportunities for Potions apprenticeships in America.

Besides Draco, Severus was putting on his very own stellar performance that evening. At one point, Mad-Eye Moody came over to greet Miss Brown, sizing up Severus in his full Delgado ensemble.

The two wizards shook hands briefly. Knowing what a gruff and paranoid person Moody was, Severus began a full court press of trying to engage in conversation with the Head Auror, asking him all sorts of questions about his work, his part in the war, and other topics that would seem normal for a complete stranger.

"So I've never seen you at Miss Brown's headquarters," Moody mentioned.

"That is because I spend most of my time at home, taking care of my lovely garden. I grow so many of my own ingredients, it requires a lot of my time, so I mostly owl Miss Brown and come in when she needs me. She's so gifted, I rarely need to come in," Severus explained with more gesticulation of his hands, which seemed to quell any further questions in the Auror's mind, especially when Severus put a friendly hand upon the Auror's shoulder, an action that would be completely in character for a Spaniard.

The physical contact by a relative stranger made Moody jump a bit and nearly pull out his wand.

"I am sorry," Severus said, his hands put up in surrender. "Have I offended you?"

Feeling a bit foolish for over-reacting, Moody explained, "No, it's just that here in England, we're a bit more reserved than you foreign folk. That's all."

To further avoid any further contact, accidental or intentional, with the strange, foreign wizard, Moody quickly excused himself with a curt farewell to Lavender, not bothering to acknowledge "Delgado."

Severus wanted to excuse himself and find Hermione, but considering that Miss Brown was using this opportunity to lay the foundation of witnesses who had met and talked with Sebastian Delgado, he stuck by her side for a while longer, letting her introduce him some of her other business associates. Even her silent partners, the twins, swung by to talk shop for a bit and meet Delgado. They even asked Severus about how their brand of British jokes and humor might translate to the Spanish youth back home in his country, since they were considering expanding their Treble W shop internationally.

As much as Hermione was looking forward to eating some of the scrumptious comestibles on the floating trays that circulated, magically refilling as the savory bite-sized treats were snapped up by hungry witches and wizards at the ball, Hermione's nervousness that Draco and Severus were to be discovered somehow suppressed her appetite. The alcohol on her empty stomach was beginning to make her head a little light, so in order to keep her wits about her, and to prevent any accidental slip of the tongue, Hermione stuck with pumpkin juice and water for the rest of the night. Despite how much as she wanted to eat and drink the night away, this was no time for mistakes to happen.

Making her way back towards where she last saw Ron, Hermione saw Harry talking with her husband. Joining them, she slipped her arm into her husband's, putting on a pretty believable façade that their marriage was great, given that Ron had recently confessed that he’d married Hermione out of pressure from his mother, rather than out of love.

Harry kept his mask down over his face, hoping it would give him a little anonymity for the night, though his signature scar was still visible through his black hair that framed his forehead. Ron had already taken his mask off, saying it was going to mess up his hair for the upcoming photo op later. After chatting for a little while, Harry excused himself, this time truly in need of speaking with Kingsley.

Once Harry left, Ron leaned over and confessed with befuddled surprise, "I had to escape Dagmar. She propositioned me, right under her husband's nose, though I'm not sure he noticed. God, I hope he didn't. I don't want anything to mess up this sponsorship."

"At least she didn't goose your arse, like she did mine," Hermione confessed, much to Ron's shock.

"She didn't."

"She did," Hermione confirmed darkly. "Though it's only a matter of time before Bascom comes right out and propositions me outright as well."

"He wouldn't," Ron countered, unable to believe his newest friend would cheat on Dagmar by propositioning his wife.

"For a keeper who can catch a Quaffle, you're pretty blind. My guess is, if we didn't both get away in time, Dagmar would have suggested we make her into a Dagmar sandwich," Hermione quipped blandly, and fairly accurately, too. "And if Bascom does know about his wife's dalliances, and she his, they might have suggested swapping as well."

Ron's face fell in disgust at the suggestion that a witch, who was old enough to be his mother, would have asked him and his wife for a three-way, much less trade his wife off to a man old enough to be Hermione's father or possibly grandfather. Ron was about to ask where Hermione learned about such things, wondering how she could even conceive of such ideas, when Minister Fudge appeared on a floating platform above the crowd gathered for the night.

Casting the Sonorus Charm, he spoke, "Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for attending the Ministry's Halloween Masked Ball. This gala, suggested by my beautiful and talented wife, Calpurnia, is a celebration that we have recovered fully from the dark times of our recent past, and there is a bright future for our society. So let us raise our glasses and toast to the bright future ahead. Cheers!"

Nearly everyone had a drink in their hand, and those that did raised them in salute to the Minister's words, Draco and Severus especially.

"And now, it's time to dance!" Fudge announced before guiding the platform back down and ending the charm for his voice.

The band, which had been playing quietly in the background, struck up a waltz, the noise amplified louder. On an easel next to the band was a sign signifying the next type of song that they would play after the current song, which was going to be a foxtrot.

Hermione nudged her head towards the dance floor, wondering if Ron would at least have one go-round on the floor with his wife, but he begged it off, saying, "Later," above the loudness of the notes played.

Bascom came back over to Ron and Hermione. Shouting above the music, he indicated it was time for Ron to do his appearance for the press and photographers. Bascom promised to return Ron back to her later, speaking more to her chest than to her face as he leered down her front, glimpsing the swell of her breasts.

As Hermione was left alone amid a crowd, she began to look around for a familiar face. The problem was that nearly everyone was wearing a mask, and many had their hair dyed strange colors, making it harder to recognize anyone she knew.

There were times she thought she spotted Tonks, but it was just a witch who had dyed her hair pink for the night. And Luna was hard to spot as well, as many had dyed their hair a very similar light golden ash blonde as the Editrix of The Quibbler.

Meandering amongst the throng of people crowded around the edges of the dance floor full of witches and wizards, twirling in pairs like apple blossom petals falling from a tree in spring, Hermione spied Trevor with two other people. From the mincing gait, she could only assume that it was Madam Dushka who was the witch next to him. The wizard, who was shorter than her, flanked the other side of Trevor. Hermione didn't know who he was, but he was quite possibly Madam Dushka’s husband, though she had never met him before. However, based on the photo of the married couple on Madam Dushka's desk, the size and build looked to be about right.

Curiosity piqued, given that the only thing down that hallway the trio strolled was stairs to the basement level where Hermione worked, she walked as inconspicuously as possible toward where they had gone. She checked to make sure that the trio had turned the corner before venturing down the hallway.

After peering back, looking to see if she would slip away unnoticed, Hermione turned the corner and saw the door to the lab swing shut. Madam Dushka had locked the lab earlier that day and Kingsley had double-checked it, but why were Trevor, their cunt boss, and Mr. Dushka going into the lab?

Slowly skulking up to the door, she was about to press her ear up to it, wishing she had a pair of Extendable Eyes or at least Extendable Ears, when a hand clamped around her mouth from behind, muffling any scream that might have escaped her lips.

"I would have thought a witch like you would have retained more of your stealth abilities, after all those years of sneaking around Hogwarts after hours," a familiar Castilian Spanish-accented voice whispered into her ear.

Hermione gave Severus a look that was a mixture of anger for momentarily frightening her and relief that it was him and not someone else.

"Maybe if I had Harry's Invisibility Cloak, this would be easier and I wouldn't have been noticed," she whispered back peevishly.

"I only noticed you because I was watching you, not the people dancing."

"Let's hope you're the only one who was watching me," she prayed.

"In a dress like this? Not likely," he murmured sweetly, a finger running delicately up her spine along bare flesh, his voice still holding an accent.

Hermione stifled a shuddering sigh, thinking this was not the best place for them to get caught together.

"Really? Now?" she said with an impatient whisper. "Trevor, Dushka and her husband just went in there. Just as I was being rushed out the door at noon today by her, a box of fluxweed picked at full moon came in," she hissed, trying to impart her lack of interest in Severus' attentions right now and why she was keenly interested as to why the unlikely trio were in there. Should anything happen to that box while those three were in there, that might mean a delay of nearly another year before Severus, Draco and Ginny could escape, if that was truly the only and last shipment of the year.

Understanding why Hermione was so terse with him, Severus suddenly became equally serious and grave. Now he was very curious as to why those three were in the lab as well.

"You think they might steal some and sell it on the black market?" asked Severus, his Castilian accent giving him a slight lisp.

"I don't think so, but I can't think of why they might be in there all alone."

Hermione and Severus leaned in and pressed their ear to the door, comprehension dawning on their faces.

Cracking the door open a smidgen, just enough to peer in, their suspicions were confirmed and further elaborated with visual sighting of Madam Dushka lying back on the sturdy testing bench while Trevor was plugging away at her, bent over her while his mouth was firmly latched onto one nipple. Madam Dushka was wailing rather loudly, masking any noise Hermione and Severus might have made cracking the door open or whispering amongst themselves. Behind Trevor was Mr. Dushka, buggering Trevor from behind, making a Trevor sandwich. The older wizard was making a whole lot of noise himself as well.

Hermione threw her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp of shock when she realized what the short wizard was standing atop of in order to make himself tall enough to penetrate Trevor from behind. Under Mr. Dushka's black shiny shoes – and bright yellow trousers and polka dot underpants hanging about his ankles – was the box of fluxweed.

Severus understood what Hermione was frantically pointing at, and saw her shoulders seize up, violently cringing as the box suddenly buckled and a corner broke upon, spilling fluxweed all over the floor. Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth tighter to keep from gasping aloud.

There was a shout from Mr. Dushka as he pulled himself free from Trevor, kicking the box aside in frustration, spilling even more fluxweed all over the lab floor, before going to grab a sturdy stool on which to mount Trevor from behind once more.

Reeling, Hermione fell back against the wall, panting in panic that all that fluxweed was strewn about all over the place so carelessly. If anything, this would make it very easy for Hermione to sneak away plenty of the Polyjuice Potion ingredient without having to write up that she botched an experiment. She just hoped the box would not be patched up and reweighed before she came in Monday morning. Still, for the past two months she and Severus had been praying for a delivery of the scarce ingredient, only to watch so much of it casually wasted.

Severus was looking equally pained at what he just witnessed.

Before they could say anything, Severus heard the approach of footsteps before Hermione could register the sound.

"Slap me," he quickly whispered in his Castilian accent before he pinned Hermione up against the wall and planted a deep tongue kiss upon her mouth.

Finally hearing the footsteps and grasping the implication of his suggestion, she shoved back against his form and slapped him soundly across the face, just as Kinglsey Shacklebolt rounded the corner.

"I'm a married woman. How dare you!" Hermione yelled hotly, before storming off past Kingsley back towards the ball and the rest of the guests.

Severus looked at Kingsley sheepishly and gave a cavalier shrug before saying, "You can't blame a wizard for trying. Am I right?" He gently rubbed the side of his face where Hermione's hand made contact and added, lipstick still freshly smudged across his mouth, "But it was worth it."

Kingsley approached Severus, looking him up and down with a disapproving glare. "This area is closed off. What are you doing down here?"

"The young witch and I were discussing Potions, someplace where we didn't have to shout above the band, when we noticed some people going into her lab." Severus tilted his head in the direction of the door he was standing next to. "I was rather inspired by the moment, if you know what I mean." Severus sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.

As Severus was rounding the corner, heading back towards the ball, he heard a small choir of voices from inside the lab react in shock to being caught in flagrante delicto.

At some point, Severus would have to make a public apology to Hermione for acting so forward and presuming too much, seeing as how Kingsley was a witness. Given how stunning she looked that night, Severus wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't the last whose advances she would spurn.

Making sure she was looking properly reassembled after that sudden ravishing by Severus' mouth, fixing her smeared lipstick as well, Hermione rejoined the party. She wondered who else was making use of unused offices for a quick tryst.

Not surprisingly, she finally spotted the Weasley clan grouped together over by one of the few corners that didn't have a bar. Just like during Victory Day, they had congregated together. Fortunately, there were enough house-elves available for temporary hire to take care of all the Weasley grandchildren back at various homes, as this was a function meant for adults that went far past the bedtime of many little witches and wizards.

Penelope looked like she was long past overdue to pop, and she was sitting down, fanning herself with her mask that she had already removed, oppressed by the heat of so many bodies within a confined space. Even Hermione had long checked her cloak with the cloak girl for the evening, glad she had a cool dress on.

All the Weasley women, with the exception of Fleur, had dressed in the more traditional ball gown with huge skirts that required a lot of space in which to maneuver. Fleur was wearing something more sleek like Hermione, looking lovely in an empire-waisted silk column, having regained her slender shape shortly after the birth of her and Bill's latest child the night of Harry's birthday party. Fleur praised Hermione's choice of attire, remarking how chic it looked and the color was so lovely. Molly gave her a look up and down, Hermione noting that her mother-in-law didn't exactly care for the style, but then had quickly plastered on a sweet face, saying her daughter-in-law looked "nice." Molly was in her own champagne-coloured wedding cake confection, with tiers and tiers of ruffles down the skirt, taking up a fair bit of real estate herself. Bill returned with drinks for Fleur and himself.

Hermione spent a fair amount of time chatting with her in-laws, not wanting to join Ron and deal with Dagmar or Bascom coming on to her again. She could have rejoined Lavender, "Jim" and "Sebastian," but considering how she just slapped Severus across the face for show, it would not make much sense for her to seek their company if she was pretending to be upset with the Spanish peacock, though only Kingsley was the only witness so far that they knew of. She talked with the twins about their business, and they mentioned meeting some "Dago bloke" to which Hermione acted slightly aggrieved at the mention of his name, keeping up the pretense.

Looking about, she saw over in one corner Ron coming back from his time with the press. The flashes of light signified someone else was right now the center of attention for the journalists in attendance.

Ron looked quite relieved to be back within the sanctuary of his family, even amid the crowd of people. Hermione could only guess how difficult Dagmar was to deal with. Though Hermione and her husband had drifted apart in their marriage, they still kept up the pretense of a happy marriage for the benefit of his family, even with much of the bad blood and recent revelations that had passed between them recently. If anything, it gave the believable front of a happy marriage to the rest of the Weasley clan. Hermione wondered how Molly would react if the old fortuneteller's prediction came true and their marriage was indeed going to be over before the end of the year.

As the chatter and flashes from the press area died down, and started up anew once more, Hermione spotted a witch and wizard making a direct line towards her and Ron. When the pair came closer, she suddenly recognized that gait.

"Viktor!" Hermione said warmly, and greeted her old friend with a kiss upon his cheek.

"Ron! Her-my-nee!" he greeted the pair, returning Hermione's kiss upon her cheek and clapping Ron heartily on the back in a great hug.

"Did you just come over from the press area?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Yes, I just made the announcement I mentioned to you before." The former Quidditch World Cup player was beaming with joy. "And not only that, I have just announced that I am engaged."

Hermione and Ron's eyes turned to the voluptuous strawberry blonde witch next to Viktor.

"May I introduce to you Lady Anne Battenberg, my fiancée," Viktor announced with pride. "Anne, these are old friends I met during the Tri-vizard Tournament at Hogvarts."

Ron and Hermione took turns congratulating the newly engaged couple.

"When did you propose?" Hermione asked.

"Last night. It's all been so sudden. The same night I saw you the Grand Royal Supper Club, ve met for the first time," Viktor confessed. "But I am positively in love vith this divine creature. So ve agreed that ven I made my announcement that I vould be Puddlemere United's new coach starting next season, ve vould also announce our engagement."

"Really? That's fantastic, mate," Ron exclaimed and gave Viktor an even bigger hug.

While the wizards began chatting about Quidditch, Hermione talked with Lady Anne. "I had no idea Viktor was seeing anyone. I'm so thrilled for you both, I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”

"Thank you, Her-my-nee," Anne said with her very polished British upper crust accent.

"Actually, it's Hermione. Viktor always had a little trouble pronouncing it," she clarified.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm used to him referring to you with that particular pronunciation."

Hermione assured her it was not a problem. As they talked, Hermione made sure not to bring up her royal lineage, since it seemed the press was rather fixated on the fact that the Muggle royal family had finally produced a witch, so she was the closest thing to royalty in wizarding society, even though she was third or fourth cousin to Prince Phillip, removed once or twice possibly – Hermione couldn't remember. Hermione understood, along with Harry, the pressures of celebrity. Even that damning snapshot of Hermione giving Harry a hug just before the first Tri-wizard event haunted her for a long time, then there was the post N.E.W.T. drunken binge reported in the papers as well that added to her "reputation." Instead they talked about safe and innocuous matters, such as wedding details. It was a safe subject to discuss, considering that the couple had just announced their engagement.

Just as Hermione was beginning to relax, she spied Severus approaching her. As much as she would have enjoyed spending more time with Severus, his Delgado personality was certainly a bit off-putting, as per his plan.

Pulling his gold hat off and sweeping it with a grand gesture, bowing before Hermione, he said, "I am so sorry if I have offended you, a thousand pardons, Señora Weasley."

All Hermione could think was, 'Really, Severus? Right here, right now? In front of my husband, family, Viktor and his fiancée?' but she decided to play along. Severus, after all, was a long time spy with a fantastic head for strategy and playing a believable part. She had to trust him that there was a purpose to him coming over and publicly apologizing to her in front of everyone she knew.

Hoping she was going to say the right thing, she replied with a look of disdain, "Of course I was offended."

"My deepest apologies, Mrs. Weasley. I took your enthusiasm for Potions as something else," Severus said with plausible deep remorse. "Back in Spain, when a witch speaks to another wizard with such passion one could only assume such things. I am ignorant of British customs and mistook your academic excitement for something else." Bowing once more, this time even more deeply, "As I said, a thousand pardons. I am a fool."

Ron started looking over this puffed-up Spanish version of Gilderoy Lockhart with an accusatory eye. Before Ron could confront "Delgado," Hermione said begrudgingly, "I guess I could accept your apology, as it seems it was a cultural miscommunication."

Hermione held her nose in the air and gave him a slightly haughty look that made Severus proud that she had acted so well the part.

To Severus' delight, Molly seemed to have overheard his Spanish accent and had quietly moved as far away from him as possible, to the far side of the Weasley clan, making small excuses as she tried to navigate with her huge hoop skirt. Even Lady Anne, the witch standing next to Viktor Krum, that “Eduardo” had shagged in ways that even “Miss Anne’s” fiancée could never imagine, was looking at him with dislike.

It all worked beautifully. Hermione was made to look like the faithful wife, securing her reputation from the possible onslaught of accusations if her marriage did end soon; Molly seemed to be rather nervous around him, which might lead her to reconsider her weekly bookings with "Eduardo" and freedom from hearing her prattle on once a week. Then there was a certain amount of smug satisfaction that Lady Anne was no wiser that the same man whom she had begged to violate her any and every which way was the same man she was looking at like he was completely beneath her.

Severus bowed dramatically several times as he moved backwards, away from the Weasley clan and Hermione, even clumsily bumping into another wizard on purpose, in which he apologized even more as he removed himself from the scene.

"As if he thought he was of your caliber," Lady Anne sniffed haughtily to Hermione, the witch's lip set into a curl of disgust at the idea of that wizard pawing her new friend.

"Just how do you know that pompous arse anyway?" Ron asked.

"He was one of the wizards I owled regarding an apprenticeship over the years," Hermione explained, remembering the public backstory.

"Glad he didn't take you as his apprentice," Ron snorted, looking indignant.

"Well, I am grateful to him, since he was the one who helped arrange my apprenticeship with Albert Dobmeir," Hermione explained.

"Vhy did he do that?" asked Viktor, now interested in hearing how his friend and that Spanish berk had crossed paths.

"Probably thought it would let him get into her knickers," one of the twins interjected, to Ron's dismay.

"It's not like that," Hermione insisted.

Hermione recalled the story Severus had related earlier about being stuck and most of the rest of the relevant story, which seemed to placate Ron, Lady Anne, Viktor and the rest of the Weasley clan that had gathered around her for support and to hear the tale.

"And to think I asked that Dago twat about helping us with contacts in Spain to set up a new store," George said aloud.

"Well, from what I understand, he's going back to Spain soon, so he wouldn't be a problem, which I don't think he'll be anymore after tonight," Hermione said with some finality, hoping everyone else would go back to focusing on other topics of conversation.

Viktor turned to his fiancée and asked, "I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to ask my old friend for a spin on the dance floor. For old time sake."

"Not at all," Lady Anne said sweetly. "I remember you telling me about the Yule Ball. As long as Hermione doesn't mind me asking her husband for a dance as well?"

Hermione smiled. "As long as Ron is willing to venture on the floor, I don't see why not."

Ron suddenly found Lady Anne taking his arm as the pair followed Viktor and Hermione to the floor before beginning a Viennese wizarding waltz.

As Hermione was spun about the floor in Viktor's arms, Hermione said, "Anne seems like a lovely person."

"She is," Viktor replied. "Being a celebrity, she understands about the problems it can cause, so ve initially bonded over that. But ve have since found ve have much in common. It just feels right, like it is the most natural thing in the world. I can truly see myself growing old vith her. Is that strange?"

"Not at all, Viktor," Hermione replied, thinking about how naturally that feeling had developed between her and Severus and had bloomed into a love they could not admit to each other. It made her realize that though she had trouble imaging herself growing old with Ron, the idea of spending the rest of her life with Severus seemed natural and even something she could look forward to. Suddenly, Hermione was feeling very melancholy as the realization that Viktor had found the happiness that had eluded her and Ron, and that she was denied with Severus based on circumstances.

"I think I need to sit down," Hermione said, as a way to excuse herself so she could be alone with her thoughts. "I'm feeling a bit warm."

Hermione made her way to the ladies’ loo and bolted the stall door in order to let herself cry. After she had let her emotions run their course, she went to the sink to make herself presentable once more. Even though she had a mask to hide the redness and puffiness around her eyes, she hoped no one would notice.

"Here," offered some random witch who was touching up her make-up in the mirror. Standing next to Hermione, she handed the teary witch a small tube of Lovely Lavender's Puffy Poof Eye Crème. "You look like you need this as badly as I did earlier."

"Thanks," Hermione said, dabbing some around her eyes before returning it to the kind anonymous witch.

Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror in which to brace herself for the rest of the evening, since she had no idea what else lay in store.

Severus was getting tired prancing about in these high heels. His feet ached, and he felt a great deal more empathy towards witches who ran around in heels all day and begged him for a foot massage when they came to visit him at his flat.

Speaking under his breath, his Spanish accent still in use, he said to his employer, "You did your announcement, the press did photos with you and Albert, I've completed all the arranged scenarios and even the twins will not bother to follow up with me later on. Can I at least leave?"

"Yes, Sebastian. I think your evening is complete if you choose to leave now," Lavender acquiesced.

"I do choose. I've made myself the fool and covered your arse in the process. My feet are killing me," he complained, his voice lilting with a sweet tone as if he was discussing some lovely holiday he had recently.

Making a dramatic bow for show, he said in a normal volume, "It was a pleasure to see you again, Miss Brown." He bent over and kissed her hand softly.

"And it was so good to see you, Sebastian. We must have tea one last time before you leave," she added for good measure, should anyone observe their exchange.

"But of course, Señorita."

Severus would have liked to see Hermione just one last time, if only from across the room, but he had already made his farewell and was heading towards the Floo. As he crossed the Atrium, Draco and he did exchange glances, in which Severus gave a discreet nod that Draco could make his exit any time he wanted if he wished.

Currently, Draco was dancing a Scottish ceilidh with Madam Agatha, his elderly Saturday client who came to visit Draco as his younger self for a sympathetic ear and a bit of companionship. Draco did like Madam Agatha, as one would like their grandmother, and decided to give the old witch a thrill by offering to dance with her as an elderly gentleman, which he knew he would be hearing about tomorrow night when she would come to visit him at the Red Ginseng next. Young Malfoy did have a sweet streak about him that few understood, though Severus saw flashes of it periodically, glad that the Dark Lord had not burned out this aspect of the boy.

Ginny had helped bring some of that sweetness back to his disposition, making it bloom once more as a neglected rosebush blooms once tended to regularly. One could say that Hermione had been tending to Severus and made long forgotten parts of him flourish once more, as well.

He wondered if Hermione had brought out the hidden part of himself he had buried long ago in an attempt to keep his inner self and thoughts from the Dark Lord. Draco hadn’t spent nearly two decades hiding away part of his soul, like what Severus had done.

As he approached the Floo to take home, he spied Hermione seeking some solitude away from the crowds in a dark corner. She spotted him as well, and for a brief moment, they exchanged glances that were hidden from others by their masks. Hermione didn't need to have Severus remove his mask to understand the fleeting glance he gave her, nor did he for her. He knew she wanted to leave with him, but had an obligation to stay. He didn't have to be close to her to know that she had been crying earlier, he had come to know her well enough that he didn't even have to ask. Severus knew from her body language alone. And as much as he wished he could place his cloak around her protectively and take her home to his flat, they could not even truly acknowledge each other.

Hermione was the first to look away and Severus felt his heart ache at seeing her this way; alone in a crowd, much like he had felt for most of his life.

With a green flash of Floo powder, that was the last Hermione ever saw of Sebastian Delgado.

============

A/N: Viking Carrot graciously accepted my commission to do the scene where Hermione first meets “Delgado.”

You can view the fanart work here with the emoji: http://atdlhea-betz.tumblr.com/post/141823175330/fan-art-by-vikingcarrot-hermione-meets-severus

And the same fan art with the emoji here: http://40.media.tumblr.com/b138fcf78c91b89d9c86a3de9d3ab147/tumblr_o4r7xg6HHk1ugsuuho1_r1_1280.jpg

Her Tumblr page is here: http://vikingcarrot.tumblr.com/

As for the inspiration behind Hermione's dress? Imagine this dress in a matte electric royal blue silk charmeuse, without the embroidery. This was Hermione's dress for the ball:

http://www.bluevelvetvintage.com/White-Embroidered-Beaded-Tulle-Halter-Gown.html

And a most wonderful round of thanks to my betas for this very large chapter: JuneW and Cytherea.
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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After