A/N: Thank you for your continued patience! I look forward to your thoughts.

---

Chapter 30: Sparks

What the hell was that? Hermione perched on her bed, trying to process what happened. She clutched her book to her chest until remembering it was a gift from Sirius. Tossing it away, she stood up to pace.

You're being stupid. It's not a big deal. It was just a kiss.

Hermione paused as the moonlight caught the facets of her wedding ring. That symbol of her partnership with Severus had – momentarily and unintentionally – been placed against another man's chest.

You tried to tell him to wait, and he ignored you.

But did you try hard enough? His tongue didn't just Apparate into your mouth; you let it in.

She covered her face and sagged to the floor. It was the intent behind the kiss that was most upsetting. All of Sirius's huffing and puffing about protecting her was rubbish. He only cared it was Snape with whom she was allegedly intimate.

Severus said there'd be consequences for defending him. Is this what he meant? She clunked her head on the wall. She should have been more observant about mistletoe. She was careless, and Sirius took advantage of it to provoke Snape.

Hermione wiped at her tears. Before Skeeter's slanderous article, she had felt well-supported in life. The Weasleys, Harry, Sirius, Remus…they were her Wizarding family. And just like her real parents, they turned on her as soon as she failed to meet their expectations. Even worse, Ron and Sirius appeared to view her as a possession rather than a person.

Never had she felt so alone.

xxxXxxx

"You're awfully quiet today," Tonks commented as they strolled through Diagon Alley.

"She hates shopping," Ginny answered. "Unless it's for books."

"This seems like something more…"

Not wanting to discuss Sirius, Hermione sighed. "It's about why we have to shop."

Tonks accepted the answer. "You're going to be alright. Snape knows he's to keep you safe, or he'll have to spend his life trying to break the sticking charm keeping my boot up his arse."

Hermione coughed a laugh, while Ginny cackled.

"Who knows? You might even enjoy the night," Tonks offered. "I've only heard rave reviews about the food; their drinks are top shelf; and the ballroom is gorgeous even when we're ripping up the floorboards."

"I wish you were going," Hermione murmured.

"That'll be the day! Mum'll shit herself if I receive an invite to Auntie Cissa's party."

"We'll wait up, so you can tell us everything," Ginny promised.

"Absolutely!" Tonks gestured ahead. "We're going that way."

"The Menagerie?"

"No, behind it. A friend's got a shop there." Tonks led the way and held the door open on a building wedged between the Magical Menagerie and the Hopping Pot Pub.

"This seems promising," Ginny sneered as they took the creaky stairs up to the third floor.

Tonks elbowed her. "She's just starting out, eh? And you can't beat the privacy!"

"That's certainly true."

Hermione kept quiet as they approached the teal door with Designs by Jazz painted on its sign. Though she held similar reservations, they were mostly relieved upon entering the shop. Though small, it was tidy with racks of colorful robes and a sitting area supplied with hot tea and cakes.

A short witch with curly hair rushed out from behind a curtain. "Good after—oh, it's you! Are you buying this time, or just trying to make me look busy?"

"Both!" Tonks beamed. "Sort of…"

The dressmaker frowned. "Why don't I like the sound of that?"

"Girls, this is Jazz. We used to suffer together at Madam Malkins."

"Mostly I suffered your suffering. What can I help you with?"

"We're looking for a dress," Tonks leaned on the counter. "For the New Years Gala."

Jazz's face fell. "I don't have anything suitable."

"Maybe not on hand, but –"

"You're taking the piss!" she exclaimed, wide-eyed. "It's, what, five days away? I can't make a Gala gown in that! Two weeks maybe, but five days?!"

"I have faith in you."

"Thestral shit." Jazz heaved a breath, then tapped her fingers on the counter in contemplation. "Alright… potentially I could do it, but it would be at the expense of everything else. Keyword, ma'am, is expense."

Hermione tugged on Tonks's elbow. "We can't. Severus gave us a budget."

"That budget will hardly cover shoes."

"Exactly," Hermione hissed. "Which is why we can't –"

"Let me handle it, eh?" Tonks waved her off.

Jazz raised an eyebrow. "I'm not giving you a discount."

"Hear me out. It's the Gala. Everyone will see it. And it will be amazing because your work always is –"

"Oh, fuck off, Nymphadora. The two people who might ask you about your dress are not going to bring me any noticeable business."

"If you would listen, Jasmeria, the dress isn't for me," Tonks smirked before turning to remove the Notice-Me-Not charm on Hermione. "It's for my friend here."

"As if that's going to make a diff – oh."

"Jazz, meet Madam Snape."

"Hello," Hermione smiled.

"Hello…"

"Every eye in that ballroom will be on her," Tonks argued. "Guaranteed her photos will appear in the Society pages and the fashion columns, probably the covers…"

Hermione and the dressmaker both paled considerably.

"… and did I mention Severus Snape is godfather to the Malfoy heir?"

Jazz held onto the edge of the counter. "Fuck! You're not asking me to make a dress; you're asking me to make the dress. In five days."

"Give or take a few hours."

The dressmaker stood up. "What's your work schedule the next five days?"

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because I don't have an elf, and your stitches are decent enough for the underlayers."

The Auror snapped her fingers. "So, you'll do it?"

"I want a down payment for today's work," Jazz outlined. "We'll negotiate the final price later with the understanding that if this doesn't work, it's full price with a fee for expedited work."

"Minus my hours?"

"At a junior apprentice rate."

"Deal!"

xxxXxxx

"Ha!" Fred checked his watch as George's hair transitioned from purple back to red. "Seventeen hours, twelve minutes. The carpets?"

"Pardon me," George turned around to undo his trousers. "Going…going…gone!"

"Good Lord," Hermione dropped her eyes back to her book.

"It's for science," George explained, while Fred recorded the times.

"Speaking of," Fred snagged the box of chocolates, then hobbled over to Hermione. "Take your pick."

"No."

He shook the box. "Come on. Do it for the science."

"Get someone else."

"We wanna know if the effects are sex-dependent. All our subjects are male."

"Ask Ginny."

Fred grimaced. "Science or not, I don't want to know anything about my baby sister's pubes."

"Did you not claim me as a little sister, too?"

"Honorary little sister," George clarified.

"The kind you can get away with snogging under the mistletoe," Fred winked at his twin.

George rolled his eyes. "One time, and it was hardly a snog, you jealous cow."

Uncomfortable with the topic of discussion, Hermione loudly cleared her throat. "I gave Luna a batch, too."

While George jotted it down, Fred lifted the box. "Can't do much with an n of 1."

"I'm sure Tonks'll be willing."

"She's a Metamorphagus," George countered. "That's a confounding variable."

Fred shook the box at her again.

"Actually," Hermione sat up tall, "I don't think I can consent to a research study without my husband's permission. Do you want to write him, or shall I?"

Fred hastily retreated to the table. "We'll have to limit our study to male participants for now."

Smirking, the witch returned to her reading.

"Oi, Sirius!" George called a few minutes later. "You like science, don't you?"

Sirius frowned, entering the drawing room. "Not even a little bit."

Hermione watched the wizard cross the room. Though she had managed to avoid him since the mistletoe incident, she knew she needed to address the situation before it got out of hand. Snape would be here in a few days, and she could only imagine the pointed comments Sirius could make. While her husband was more likely to believe her version over Sirius's, he was unlikely to let the incident stand unpunished. That may land him in trouble with the Order as it was clear to her that many of them would take Sirius's word over theirs.

Having had a few days to think it through, she decided it best to play to Sirius's Gryffindor nature. He may not respect her as a person but seeing her as a victim to protect might keep him from revealing the incident to Snape.

Steeling herself, she left her book behind her on the chair. The twins were distracted with their work but would come to her aid if necessary.

Sirius, tinkering with the liquor cabinet, glanced up at her. "Hermione, what can I pour you?"

"Nothing, thank you."

He recapped the firewhiskey. "You don't want a drink, or your husband forbade you from it?"

"I…"

"No one's going to tell him."

"He doesn't care if I do or don't," Hermione huffed. "I'm just not interested."

"Suit yourself." Sirius picked up his tumbler. "If it's not the alcohol you were seeking… perhaps it was the company?"

Her face heated. "No, just a quick conversation."

He followed her gaze to the twins, then focused on her face. "Go on."

"About… Christmas…I'd prefer it if you kept that to yourself."

Sirius smirked. "We did nothing wrong, love. You were stuck; I assisted you. Details are a bit fuzzy, mind you, but that's what I recall."

Hermione held up her left hand. Sirius frowned at the wedding ring, then smoothed his thumb over her knuckles. "You aren't completely bound to him. There's loads of wiggle room in those vows you took."

She pulled her hand back. "I have to live with him."

Mistaking the source of her fear, the wizard gave a slow nod. "You're right to be concerned. Dumbledore may have some use for him, but he isn't a good man. If he ever hurts you… you come to me, and I'll sort it. Understand?"

"And Christmas?"

He lifted his glass. "Our little secret."

"Thank you." Hermione forced a smile. When he gently caught her wrist, a chill rippled up her spine.

"If you ever change your mind about the company, I'm very good at keeping secrets."

xxxXxxx

"You look like a mermaid," Ginny teased.

"More like a dragon," Tonks countered. At Hermione's glare, she clarified, "A gorgeous, majestic, sexy one, of course."

"Ugh, I didn't hear that," Harry grumbled from the doorway, while Ron silently stared.

"I said she looks like a majestic, sexy dragon!" Tonks repeated louder, which only amused herself and Ginny.

"You do look nice, Hermione," Harry admitted. "But green?"

"'Course, mate," Ron snapped out of his trance. "Practically one of them now."

Hermione rolled her eyes while Molly shooed the boys out and closed the door.

"Ignore them, dear. You look beautiful, and the color suits you." The witch continued fussing with the girl's hair. "And there's nothing wrong with honoring your husband."

Pinching her lips, Hermione studied her image in the full-length mirror. Her gown – variegated shades of green beneath a sheer emerald overlay – accentuated her waist before flaring out into a tea-length flouncy skirt. The asymmetric neckline left one arm bare, while the other was encased within a flowy, cape-like sleeve. The metallic beaded accents caught the light to produce a shimmering effect.

She had chosen the fabrics because she liked them, but now she felt like the Slytherin mascot.

"There," Molly patted the ornate plait over the girl's bare shoulder. "I think that's lovely."

"I see the dragon now," Ginny commented.

Tonks snorted. "I was just going to say that about the mermaid thing. The Siren kind, mind you."

"That's the kind I meant!"

"Ready to lure poor, unsuspecting grumpybuns to his demise…"

Hermione turned with a start. "That isn't funny."

Tonks cleared her throat. "Not the big, final demise… just an itty bitty, temporary one. You know, le petit mort…"

Ginny snorted, then glanced sheepishly at her mother, who pointed at the door. "Go see if Hestia's arrived yet to do her make-up."

xxxXxxx

Unnerved by the smug grin on Black's face, Severus moved to the window. Knowing better than to turn his back on the idiot, he kept a finger on the end of his wand.

"Oi, who left you two unsupervised?" Tonks entered the dining room. "No bloodshed? Nothing out of place? Such maturity!"

Sirius sipped his drink, while Snape checked his pocket watch.

"She'll be ready soon enough. Hestia's finishing up her face." At his pinched look, the Auror smirked. "Relax, it's called fashionably late. You can show her off all the better that way, which… behooves us."

His eyes narrowed. "Explain that."

Tonks toyed with her hair. "We haven't exactly paid for the dress yet."

Severus crossed his arms. "I checked my accounts."

"That would've been the shoes… and the down payment."

"The what?"

Sirius leaned back in his chair. "Oh, don't tell me you can't afford a dress to go with those secondhand robes of yours."

Ignoring him, Tonks quietly explained the arrangement she had made with the designer.

Snape's frown deepened. "How much?"

"You heard me."

"Is it spun out of gold?!"

"Ha! I'd like to see that accomplished in five days."

Severus massaged his forehead.

"Just keep her visible, suck up to the Malfoys –

"Suck up, not suck off," Sirius sneered.

"- and the press will pay it down until it's affordable." Tonks gave her cousin a two-fingered salute. "It's not Hermione's fault either. She protested adequately and was patently ignored."

She then handed over the dark velvet cloak she held. "And don't lose that; it's on loan from Hestia."

"If Hermione is in need of clothing, I'm more than happy to purchase–"

"You are presumed dead," she pointed at Sirius. "You're not purchasing anything."

"I'm sure Harry –"

Tonks slapped her cousin's slipper. "Feet off the table."

"It's my table," he griped.

Annoyed, Severus swept back into the entrance hall to wait in peace. The digs at his clothing were nothing new, but the insinuation he could not provide for his wife stung more than anticipated.

"…if only we'd had more time, we could've practiced dancing!" Molly's voice carried down the staircase. "Ronald could've stood in…"

"Merlin's sake," Severus grumbled as the woman loudly continued her fussing. Scuffing his foot against a mark in the hardwood, he scowled at the sound of Sirius's chair scraping on the dining room floor.

"…I'm not the one dragging her into the viper's den!" Sirius snarled at his young cousin. "Lecture him!"

"Dumbledore's not here," Tonks argued. "He demanded they go."

Snape closed his eyes. For the first time, he was anxious to attend the Gala if only to escape this circle of hell.

"Enough, please!" Hermione hurried down the steps ahead of her helpers. "I'm already late."

"Just a little—"

"Thank you, but we have to go!"

As his wife finally appeared on the landing, Severus glanced up…and promptly dropped both his jaw and the cloak he was holding. He glared at Sirius, who had had the audacity to wolf whistle, then bent to pick up the garment.

"Worth the price, innit?" Tonks leaned into him.

He swallowed; eyes locked on his wife. "That dress will have to keep us warm in the poorhouse."

"You keep warm in the dress, Snivellus," Sirius slurred, "but Hermione will always have a home here."

Hermione hesitantly glanced at him as she stepped up to her husband. "Hi. I'm ready to leave; are you?"

Words failing him, Severus held up the borrowed cloak and fastened it over her shoulders. Worst case scenario, he could ask Lucius for a loan.

xxxXxxx

Hermione squeezed his hand as they moved through the crowded ballroom. The attention was so much worse than they had received in the Great Hall – there, at least, she knew her audience and that her husband held authority. Here, they were fodder for the upper echelons of society.

"Do you know many of them?"

Severus drew her in front of him to pass by another couple. "I know of many. I know some. I like very few."

Hermione snorted and looked at him. "Should you have said that in public?"

"I doubt it comes as much of a surprise."

"Severus!" Lucius broke through the crowd.

Hermione growled under her breath and moved behind her husband, whose shoulders relaxed at their host's arrival.

"I thought Cissa was having me on when she told me you were attending."

Severus sighed. "Cannot disappoint our adoring public, can we?"

The pureblood chuckled, then looked Hermione up and down in a way that made Sirius seem innocent. "My, my…you look practically civilized."

"Lucius, behave," Narcissa appeared at her husband's side. "Severus, we're thrilled to have you finally join us. I presume we have you to thank for that, Madam Snape. Lovely to meet you. Finally."

"An honor to meet you as well, Lady Malfoy," Hermione choked out, "and to have received your invitation. I've heard such lovely things."

"I doubt from Severus," their hostess smiled. "Please…enjoy yourself tonight. In fact, you're in time for the opening set."

"Joy," Severus quipped.

"Don't let his attitude keep you off the floor," Narcissa instructed. "He's an accomplished dancer."

"Due in large part to your hard work, my love," Lucius squeezed her waist, then looked back to Severus. "Draco's available for her second, and I can have her after supper."

"I don't even have a say?" Hermione hissed after the Malfoys dissolved back into the crowd.

"He's our host," he murmured. "If he asks, you accept."

She raised an eyebrow. "Did you hear a question? I certainly didn't."

"Asked, demanded… it's all the bloody same," Severus grumbled.

Fighting a frown, the witch followed him to the edge of the dance floor. "I suppose it's bad form to hex said host when he says something insulting?"

"Mmm," his lip turned upward. "Especially if you hope to avoid indentured servitude to a dressmaker."

Hermione grimaced, then slid in front of him to avoid being jostled. His hand rested at her side, and she turned into him to whisper, "We just observe this one, correct?"

"Unless you've neglected to inform me that you're either a Minister or Sacred Twenty-Eight."

"Wouldn't that be amusing?" Hermione absently toyed with a button on his robes while watching the dancing couples. Though she was relieved to note not everyone was the epitome of poise or grace, her palms grew clammy as the inevitable approached. When Snape finally led her out for the second dance, she felt like her feet were made of lead.

Severus bowed, then subtly rescued her from her unsteady curtsy. "Breathe."

They moved together somewhat stiffly until she tripped into him. He glared down at the floor as if it were to blame instead of his wife, then quickly resumed their sequence. He murmured in her ear, "As grateful as I would be to call it a night after you pass out or break your ankle, I can't afford it."

"Sorry," she blushed, glancing at the nearest couple.

"I don't care how ridiculous they look – keep your focus on me, not them."

Hermione raised her chin and met his dark eyes. "All well and good until I run into someone."

"I won't allow it," Severus spun her before pulling her back against his chest. "And for gods sake, stop holding your breath."

xxxXxxx

"You know damn well there isn't so much as a pit in my floor."

Severus smirked as Lucius appeared beside him. "I thought perhaps an Auror had splintered a board on their last visit."

The blond shook his head over his glass. "I knew we shouldn't have invited you."

"Ensure you rectify that mistake going forward, would you?"

"What? And do you yet another favor?" He nodded toward the dancers. "I'd say I've been more than generous already."

Severus noted the irritated expression on his wife's face as she danced with Draco, whose mouth had hardly ceased moving since they started. "Yes, she's practically pissing herself with gratitude."

Lucius cocked his head as he studied the girl. "I expected her to stand out, but not quite like that. Did you sell a kidney?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Severus rocked on his heels. "By the way, were you aware that Skeeter woman has been busy writing her next tell-all? Paying surprisingly well for information."

The aristocrat stared expectantly.

"The philandering philanthropist –"

"Oh, fuck off," Lucius sneered, then hurriedly glanced about to ensure no one heard. "She is not, and you did no such thing."

He raised an eyebrow. "Patriarch or prancing peacock?"

Lucius peered over the crowd and slapped his hand down on Snape's shoulder. "Ah, Horace, there you are! Severus was just asking after you."

"Fuck," the younger wizard hissed, unable to break his grip in time to escape.

"Is that so, my dear boy?" Slughorn strutted over with a grin. "How fortuitous, as I had hoped to personally deliver my felicitations to you and your bride! I am certain you received my card and have been too preoccupied to respond to my invitation to tea. It's been months, of course, but… A new marriage, and with your soul mate to boot! I was just telling Eustace Macmillan the other day – you recall Eustace; he's now the director of…"

Severus glared after Lucius, who slipped away chuckling.

xxxXxxx

As the final chord struck, Hermione immediately abandoned her condescending partner. She fled to where a scowling Snape stood being talked at by a portly, older man.

"Oh!" the man exclaimed. "And this fine specimen must be –"

"My wife," Severus slipped his arm around her. "Hermione, this is Horace Slughorn, my predecessor."

She nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

"And you, Madam Snape!" Horace eyed her quickly. "I say, my boy, you've done very well for yourself."

With a brittle smile, Hermione smoothed her hand over Snape's chest. "I keep telling him, sir, but I'm not sure it's quite sunk in."

"Indeed? Severus, if what your young lady alleges is true, I would think you quite simple. Which, of course, is far from the case!" Horace winked at Hermione. "I've always said he plays his cards too close to the vest."

"Oh, don't I know it," Hermione smirked up at her husband, who rolled his eyes.

"One of my top students and personal favorites –"

Snape snorted under his breath.

"—I knew with guidance and mentoring, he'd go far in life. In fact, when Dumbledore first suggested I retire so that Severus could take my place, I was…"

Hermione looked up, having felt her husband stiffen. He seemed to be thinking something through while Slughorn droned on about retirement and fostering connections between students and patrons.

"Oh!" she interjected. "Severus told me about Slug Club."

"Wonderful!" Horace clapped. "I knew it held a special place in his heart, regardless of that solemn countenance of his. And you, Madam – I've heard you're among the best and brightest."

"I'd certainly like to think so, sir."

"Ten OWLs, top ten in her class," Severus recited, retrieving two glasses of water from a circulating tray.

Hermione cocked her head. "Top ten?"

Handing her a glass, he fixed her with an amused look. "Top five."

"Extraordinary, the pair of you," Horace beamed. "Were I still teaching, Madam, I would've enjoyed collecting you –"

Severus choked on his water, and Hermione instinctively rubbed his back.

"—and to think, I could have been the one to introduce you two! Oh, to have been the vehicle of Fate!"

Uncertain of what to say, the witch simply drank her water.

"Now, tell me… are you any relation to the Dagworth-Grangers?" Slughorn asked. "Hector Dagworth-Granger, as I'm sure you well know, founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. What a boon, Severus, for you to marry into such a prestigious family!"

"As I'm sure you well know, Horace, my wife is Muggleborn," Severus grumbled. "While not entirely out of the realm of possibility, it was hardly a motivating factor."

"Of course not, my boy! You're soul mates; there are no ulterior motives to True Love."

Hermione hid behind her glass before it was suddenly removed from her grasp and replaced by her husband's hand.

"If you would excuse us, Horace, I promised my wife this dance."

"Of course, of course! Capital!" Slughorn then turned to an elderly couple nearby. "Ragnold, Eloise! I was just saying to Severus there – he was the youngest Potions Master in more than a century, you know…"

Hermione laughed as Snape practically yanked her onto the dance floor. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she tilted her head. "He said you were a personal favorite, but you told me –"

Severus exhaled as they fell in step. "I assure you I was not until this past October."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "The youngest Potions Master in more than a century –"

"Only by 34 days," he clarified.

" – and you're not a personal favorite?"

"It doesn't come with notoriety," Severus argued. "Certainly no assets or power – nothing for him to capitalize on."

She shook her head, bemused. "Why didn't you tell my parents?"

"What does it matter?"

"It's impressive!"

"It sounds impressive," he countered, "until you realize I've done nothing with it except poorly teach children, which I did without it."

Hermione smiled at a passing couple. "I wouldn't say poorly."

"No?"

"I'd say acceptably," she flexed her hand on his shoulder, "but certainly not exceeding expectations."

He smirked down at her. "Did someone bolster their courage before coming tonight?"

"If you mean with alcohol, no. Not since Christmas." Hermione, feeling guilty about Sirius, rested her head on his shoulder. She inhaled slowly; he smelled as good as he had on Christmas Eve. Sober Hermione, however, was going to keep that to herself. "But I just spent an entire set being lectured on proper decorum by your obnoxious godson without being rescued… and I know you can't take points from me."

She smiled as his quiet chuckle rumbled against her cheek.

xxxXxxx

Hermione skeptically eyed her plate, then her husband.

Snape leaned down. "They're not about to poison their guests."

"Even Muggleborn ones?"

"A public poisoning at their premiere social event? Don't be daft."

"Maybe it's a slow-acting one that won't kill me 'til next Tuesday," she whispered. "You're the Potions Master – you know what's possible."

"I know you're being ridiculous," Severus sighed before subtly switching their plates.

Grinning at him, Hermione finally picked up her fork. Two bites in, she politely covered her mouth. "Oh, my gods."

He arched an eyebrow at her.

"How does Draco survive at Hogwarts after eating like this?" She hurriedly took another bite. "I don't even care if it is poisoned."

Severus set a half-goblet of wine in front of her. "Behave yourself with that, or I'll tell the school elves you think their food swill."

Her eyes went wide. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

xxxXxxx

Midway through the third course, Hermione sipped her wine while listening to her husband chat with Mr. Humboldt – she refused to accept he was a Malfoy. Everyone else at their table was engaged in conversation, except the girl seated next to her. Though she was genuinely interested in Snape's discussion, no one else seemed to notice Daphne had hardly eaten anything.

Setting down her glass, she leaned closer to her classmate. "Is everything alright?"

Daphne donned a practiced smile. "Oh, yes. Everything's been lovely."

Losing an internal conflict with herself, Hermione asked the girl to escort her to the restroom. When Daphne admitted ignorance to its location, Hermione caught her husband's immediate attention by placing her hand on his knee.

"The…what?" Severus glanced at her hand before the question finally registered. "Oh. The public rooms are –"

"Oh, Professor – allow me to show them!" Pansy suddenly appeared.

While he thanked her, Hermione gave him an irritated look as she and Daphne stood to follow the smug girl.

"You look nice, Mrs. Snape. I don't recall seeing that dress anywhere."

"You, too," Hermione forced a smile. "And you wouldn't have seen the dress; it was custom made."

"Really?" Pansy's eyes went wide. "Who's the designer?"

"Jasmeria Blom."

"Never heard of her. Daphne, you look nice, too. My mother wore something similar to last year's Gala, though the color was brighter, I think." Pansy pointed to the row of restrooms. "Do you need me to wait, or –"

"We can find our way back, thank you," Hermione pushed open the nearest door. Resisting the urge to stick out her tongue, she grabbed Daphne's arm. "Come on."

"Oh, I don't have to –"

"Neither do I," Hermione shut and locked the door behind them. "Something is up with you, and I would like to –"

"I told you –"

"We're not friends, yes, I remember, and I don't… I'm not good at girl talk, and I don't have many friends – most of whom are boys, and I can't exactly talk to them anymore – but…ugh, forget that." She took a deep breath. "Look, I didn't exactly want to be here either, so whatever it is… you can tell me."

"I wanted to be here," Daphne frowned. When Hermione pointedly stared at her, she turned to face the mirror. "I've never been invited before. I thought maybe… but I realized I was wrong."

"Oh," Hermione leaned against the marble vanity. "You thought you were invited because of Draco, but they sat you at a different table…next to me."

The girl winced. "I didn't mean to offend -"

"I didn't take offense… and I'm sorry if I'm the only reason you're here." Hermione folded her arms. "He hasn't asked you to dance?"

Daphne hung her head. "Just my brother and my uncle."

"Maybe after supper?" At the girl's half-hearted smile, Hermione shrugged. "If it's any consolation, he was my worst dance of the night."

"Your only other partner was Professor Snape," Daphne argued. "Obviously, you preferred him."

Hermione smirked. "Obviously. He didn't spend the entire time insulting me and lecturing me on decorum. And I suppose there's the whole soul mate thing."

Giggling quietly, Daphne turned to fix her hair in the mirror.

"He's an idiot, you know."

Daphne's shocked gaze met hers through the mirror's reflection. "Professor Snape?"

"Wha – oh, gods no! Draco's the idiot," Hermione clarified. "No, Pro—Severus is… brilliant. He's brilliant."

"Draco's not an idiot."

"He is if he would ever consider Pansy over you."

xxxXxxx

Returning to her seat, Hermione immediately leaned into her husband.

Severus glanced at her hand on his arm before meeting her gaze. "What?"

"Your godson is an idiot."

"Draco is not an idiot," he frowned, while Humboldt chuckled beside him.

"He is… which is why you should suggest he ask Daphne to dance."

"Why on Earth would I –"

Hermione squeezed his arm. "Because you're his godfather, and you care about his future."

Mindful of those watching them, Severus adjusted his seat, so he could whisper in her ear. "As his godfather, I will give him the courtesy of not dictating his personal affairs as everyone else seems wont to do."

"Fine," she huffed, looking over at the head table where Pansy was giggling at something Draco said. "I see why you like her – she managed to insult Daphne at least three different ways while complimenting her. You could learn a thing or two from her. But you're on your own for any future dinner parties with the happy couple."

The wizard exhaled slowly and sat back in his chair. "Fine."

"Thank you," Hermione took a victorious bite of her dessert.

xxxXxxx

"First my floor, then my food?" Lucius claimed the armchair beside him. "What will you cast aspersions on next?"

Severus watched his godson amble through the crowd, keeping ahead of the Parkinsons while tracking the Greengrass girl. "Well, I can't say the music has moved me."

"Classless ingrate," Lucius sipped his drink.

Severus hesitated before admitting, "Granger thought you might poison her."

"At Narcissa's event?" he scoffed. "Do I look suicidal?"

"I thought it possible you might need an excuse to get out of dancing with her."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "I don't need an excuse not to dance with the chit; I'll simply choose not to."

"So long as Narcissa agrees."

"That is not… Just for that, I am choosing not to. We've shown her too much deference already."

Severus sniffed. "She'll be devastated, I'm certain."

"Where is the little ankle biter anyway?"

"Your wife abducted her."

"Ah." The blond craned his neck to locate his wife, who was holding court with several society women. He watched for a moment before returning to his drink. "She's looking over here like a mutt you've kicked out in the cold."

"I have abandoned her to the wolves."

"Any sign of weakness, they'll pick her bones clean," Lucius concurred. "Speaking of… has Dumbledore sent you with enough to buy-in this time, or do I need to lend you something?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "I have enough."

"Well, chop chop," Lucius stood. "The tables await, and I don't have all night to lighten Dumbledore's coffers."

xxxXxxx

Having feigned smiles too long, Hermione's face hurt as she followed Narcissa upstairs. They found Lucius at one of the card tables and Severus observing from an armchair in front of the balcony.

Winking at Hermione, Narcissa perched on the arm of her husband's chair and elegantly draped along his shoulders. "Darling, are we winning or losing?"

"It's a delicate balance," Lucius sighed. "Of course, the clumsy sod sulking over there lost his completely."

As the other men at the table snickered, Severus glared up at the ceiling.

"Perhaps he could do with spot of consolation, hmm?" Lucius flicked a sharp look at Hermione. Narcissa's expression was warmer yet no less demanding.

With an apprehensive smile, Hermione moved to Snape, who – after catching a much colder look from their hostess – uncrossed his legs and straightened in his seat. She held her breath and avoided his gaze while awkwardly settling on his lap. The rigid tension in his body suggested he was as uncomfortable with the situation as she was.

While he continued to watch discussions at the tables, Hermione scanned the room, observing other couples' interactions. She smiled at a few curious strangers who passed by them, then peered over the balcony railing to watch the end of a dance. Eventually, she felt brave enough to say, "I'm sorry you lost."

Severus inhaled loudly.

She nervously ran her fingers over the embroidery of his robes. Of the admittedly few things she knew about her husband, she knew he was not careless with money. If he was worried about paying for her stupid dress, though, perhaps he had taken a risk. "How much –"

"None of your concern," Severus grumbled. When he noticed her staring sadly at her beaded skirt, he surmised the nature of her thoughts. Taking her hand, he murmured in her ear. "I didn't lose any more than I was supposed to."

"Oh." Hermione slowly raised her head, unintentionally rubbing the tip of her nose along his. Wincing, she touched his jaw and whispered an apology. He grunted and returned his gaze to the tables.

"So, you're working?"

"Attempting to."

Guilt assuaged, she stretched her arm across his shoulders and rested her head. "In that case, I won't tell Tonks how you abandoned me."

He shook his head. "You were perfectly safe with Narcissa."

"That's good… because she plied me with champagne. Really good champagne…I think. I'm not an expert."

Catching a disappointed glance from Narcissa, Severus pulled Hermione's knees closer and held onto her more possessively. "And you drank it without interrogating anyone?"

"I didn't want to seem rude or… you know, with child," she shuddered. "Besides, I figured either you were right, or I'd get to haunt you the rest of your life."

"It'd be a short miserable existence for the both of us."

Hermione snickered, recalling Tonks threatening his rear end. Not wanting to distract him further, she turned to watch the dancers below. She enjoyed the silky feel of his hair on her fingertips while trying not to worry about her impending dance with another Malfoy – the worst Malfoy. She would willingly dance through another of Draco's lectures if it meant…

Hold on. Hermione scanned her limited view of the dance floor until she finally spotted the idiot in question. Grinning, she squeezed Snape's shoulder. "He's dancing with her! You told him to?"

"No."

"Oh."

"I told him that if he didn't wish to raise unmanageable expectations in a particular quarter, he might want to distribute attention elsewhere."

Hermione blinked at him. "You said it just like that?"

"Yes?"

A giggle burst out of her, and she collapsed against his chest.

He frowned. "How much champagne exactly?"

Hermione swallowed and lifted her head. "If I exaggerate, will you agree I'm too drunk to dance with the devil?"

Severus glanced at Lucius, who was clearly not keeping his delicate balance any longer. "You needn't worry about that."

"Of course, I do! I barely made it through…" She studied his smug look. "Why don't I need to?"

"Because you're done dancing for the year."

"I am? But you said we couldn't refuse."

He shrugged. "We didn't. He did."

"Why?"

He looked away. "As I said, I know how to handle him."

Laughing in relief, Hermione kissed his cheek and – when he turned his head – his lips. She sank back, afraid to meet his eyes. "Thank you."

Severus cleared his throat and averted his gaze. "Don't mention it."

xxxXxxx

Hermione raised an eyebrow as Severus handed her a glass of pink champagne.

"You've handled yourself well enough," he took her arm. "Besides, we'll be out of here before you get too…giggly."

She giggled, then cleared her throat. "Sorry."

Inhaling sharply, Severus led her out onto the large balcony overlooking the gardens. With a few well-placed stares, he managed to secure them a spot against the banister. Since they were on the edge of the warming charms, the winter wind still tickled at their bare skin. As Hermione pressed against his side, he wrapped his arm about her shoulders. They stood quietly as everyone watched the large golden clock spelled above them.

As midnight approached, many of the guests began counting down. Hermione slowly turned into Snape, whose hand travelled from her shoulder to her lower back. She stared at his chest, while he kept his eyes locked on the clock.

"…five…four…"

Hermione gulped down half of her drink.

"…three…two…"

Severus finally let himself look at her.

"…one…"

She raised her eyes to meet his…

"Happy New Year!"

…then closed them as his lips met hers.

The kiss was over too soon. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw fireworks reflected in his. Her hand grabbed his collar to keep him from pulling away, while his slid beneath her jaw to drag her mouth back to his.

Several whoops and hollers followed by the brilliant flash of a camera bulb finally drew them apart. Severus glared at the cameraman – who quickly retreated – while Hermione hid her flushed face against his shoulder. As everyone's attention drifted elsewhere, she turned in place and leaned back into him. His arm tightened across her abdomen as they watched the fireworks exploding overhead.

"Well," he finally murmured, "I think we may be able to afford that dress now."