—————S—————
June 30, 1978 (continued)
"Yes."
Such a simple word, yet the moment it left Hermione's mouth, it felt as though a dark cloud suddenly dispersed from over his head, taking with it a pressure that left him aching. Severus was off his knee and pulling her into his arms, his mouth on hers so quickly her elated giggles were born on his lips. And he smiled, still kissing her despite the minimal real estate such an expression gave to do so. Her arms were around his neck, and with her secured so snuggly to him, he actually felt buoyant enough to lift her off the ground and twirl her around.
She laughed more, music to his soul, and he set her down and pulled back so he could look at his fiancée, his future wife, his Hermione.
"I thought you were about to break it off," she said, only a bit miffed. She gave him a very light smack on his shoulders, but other than that, she didn't pull her hands away from him.
"I was prepared for it," he replied. "I want to marry you, but I had no idea if you still felt the same. If you wanted to take the next step."
"I have," she said, running her fingers along his hair despite its texture. The touch was reverent, and he nearly felt handsome, despite his physical flaws.
But her touch reminded him of something important. "Then I need to seal the promise," he reminded her, taking her left hand in his right and slipping the ring onto her delicate finger.
The silver ring with its cluster of diamonds around an emerald was a family heirloom that was meant to go to his mother but skipped her when she married Tobias. It was large on Hermione's finger, but it also looked right . He couldn't have imagined tromping off to a jeweler to procure whatever ring was in fashion, not to mention how much he loved the idea of a Prince family ring on her finger when the name he would give her was Snape.
"Severus, it's gorgeous," she breathed, staring at her hand in awe.
"It's not new," he stated.
"I don't care. The fact that ... you had to have gotten it from someone, and I would wager that someone was either your mother or grandmother. The fact that they let you give this to me..."
"Hermione, my mother adores you in her own way, and my grandmother is quite eager to meet you. The ring was practically shoved into my face when I went to the Prince Manor over the holidays to thank my grandmother. I regret that I wasn't able to come to you."
"Severus, you don't need to apologize for our lack of contact, honestly. You were going to see me at the Malfoy party; I don't begrudge you the chance to see your family."
"And that's one of the many reasons I love you," he declared, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a deep kiss. The hum of approval on his lips only made him pull her closer, practically wrapping her in his robes.
His future wife. He had a future wife! An intelligent, fierce, strong, brave, beautiful future wife to share the rest of his days with. It had never felt so good to know Albus Dumbledore was fallible.
The old coot had been dropping hints and remarks throughout the whole year that made Severus doubt. He didn't believe a word about Sirius Black and knew from being inside his mind that Hermione could practically sit in his lap, and his reaction would be nothing more than a front. But there was Lupin, who he knew from Hermione's confession, had no qualms about making his feelings and intentions known. Hearing Albus say the two had grown close, even after the incident, had given Severus pause. Especially when he and Igor had been permitted to send letters so rarely. And, of course, he caught wind from the headmaster that the romance between Potter and Lily had ended. He had been disappointed but had said that it was inevitable with that damned twinkle in his eyes. Hardly anyone ever stayed with their Hogwarts sweetheart, and had he met any nice young girls in Voldemort's camp?
When he asked, begged Nikola for the day off to attend Hermione's graduation, he'd worried terribly the whole time that it would be a stupid idea. His master permitted it, pleased his apprentice had passed his examinations with such high results, and Severus had to work up the nerve to Apparate to Hogwarts. And then, when he went to approach Hermione, who looked so lost and alone, he knew the headmaster was staring down at them. He decided, then, to only allow parts of his well-planned speech to go through his mind: ending things. Because he was ending them. He didn't want Hermione as his girlfriend; they were either going to move forward together or go their separate ways.
Severus was completely, utterly thankful she chose to go forward.
"Oi! Get a room, you two," Black's voice called out, bringing Severus back to himself.
He turned to see the Marauders and Lily coming toward them.
"I have one," he whispered to Hermione. "It's rented at the Leaky Cauldron."
"Presumptuous."
"That I was going to need a place to drown my sorrows after your rejection, away from Karkaroff? Yes, I presumed as much. But there are better ways to put it to use now, aren't there?" he said, brushing his nose against her curls and making her giggle.
"Oh, the pair of you are so sweet-looking, it makes me feel sick," Black egged on as they came within proper speaking distance. "You look so happy, and—"
"Is that a ring!" Lily demanded, and Severus enjoyed the instantaneous and various reactions from the onlookers.
Pettigrew frowned thoughtfully but said nothing as he stared toward the lake. Potter looked like a petulant child that didn't get what they thought they deserved. Lily was doe-eyed and near tears, hope alighting her features. Black looked like he didn't know who to be more pleased for. And Lupin, oh, Lupin looked utterly devastated.
"Severus asked me to marry him!" Hermione confirmed gleefully, showing Lily her hand.
"Oh, it's lovely." Lily smiled. "But Sev, honestly? Slytherin colors?" she teased as she handed Hermione's hand to Black.
"I don't think I'd have been a fan of red and gold for myself, to be honest," Hermione said just before Black gave a long, low whistle.
"Goblin-made silver. And they don't cut stones like this anymore. Well done, Snape. I imagine it's a family ring, but this is worth more than most wizards have in Gringotts."
"Which Death Eater did you snatch that from?" Potter snarked, and Severus was surprised to see Black shoot him a derisive look.
"Snape's magical half comes from the Prince family," Pettigrew spoke up. "Isn't that right, Snape? You're part of an old pure-blood line. The last one, I believe."
"I am," he replied, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as something about the way Pettigrew stood, the way he spoke, seemed quite out of place for him.
Potter scoffed, but said nothing, his eyes falling on Lily.
"Well, heirloom or not, it's beautiful and I cannot be happier for the two of you," Lily said, and Severus regretted that Hermione actually stepped away to embrace their friend and allowed Lily to accost him as well.
"Congratulations, Severus," Lupin said, and despite a wariness from Black, he stepped toward the couple with an offered hand.
Severus looked down at the offered hand, to Lupin, smirked and decked him.
The crack of his fist hitting Lupin's nose was utterly satisfying, the feel of the cartilage breaking wonderfully cathartic. Any time the werewolf had crossed Severus' mind since he read about him kissing Hermione, he thought of what it would be like to show Lupin how the men of Cokeworth dealt with blokes who tried to steal their women. Reality was actually better than the dream.
"The hell, Snivellus!?" Potter screeched, wand pointed at Severus.
Hermione had her wand drawn nearly as fast as Severus had his, and Black was a beat behind them, making it clear that, should Potter decide to take on Severus, it would be three against one.
"Remus had it coming, Prongs," Black replied, raising his other hand in an attempt to placate his friend. "Not like Severus had a chance to deck him for February before now."
"It's true," Lupin replied. "I'd have done the same."
"It was a kiss," Potter whined like they were being unreasonable.
"It was assault," Hermione chided, turning back to Severus. "Which I already hit him for."
"Yes," Severus acknowledged, knowing that Hermione was implying it wasn't necessary, and not wanting to have to say that it was.
She tried her damnedest not to grin, but she couldn't help it and she shook her head at him.
"Mr. Potter, while I'm aware you're no longer a student, I will kindly ask you to put your wand away," Minerva said as she strode toward them, taking in the scene with a cautious eye. Delia and Bob were behind her, frowning at the Marauders they hadn't met. Bob eyed Lupin's bloody nose with a suspicious glare.
"For you, Professor," Potter relented, holstering his wand and straightening his graduation robes before gesturing for the rest to follow. Only Pettigrew and Lupin obeyed, and Potter seemed genuinely hurt when Black sauntered up to Delia.
"Mrs. McGonagall, lovely as always. No little rascal today?"
"Ollie's with Bob's brother," she replied with a warm smile. "It's good to see you Sirius. You've stayed out of trouble?"
Minerva scoffed loudly, and Black had the good sense to not deny it.
"I believe you're about to gain a son-in-law," he said, clapping Bob on the arm before he stepped past them.
Delia turned to them and beamed, just as Minerva said, "It's 'bout time, lad. Only asked fer permission back in February."
Severus sighed, realizing it might be a bit before he could sneak Hermione off to the Leaky to celebrate.
July 4, 1978
"I won't allow it," Dumbledore said as simply as he would decline a cup of tea.
"I wasn't asking for your permission," Severus snarled, glaring at the old man. "I'm merely telling you that Hermione and I plan to wed."
"And I won't allow it," Dumbledore repeated. "I have said, time and time again, Severus, that you cannot have attachments. Should something happen, should a choice be presented between Hermione and the greater good—"
"Are you expecting her Occlumency to fail? Or for her to foolishly march into a Death Eater gathering declaring herself a Muggle-born? When will there ever be a choice between Hermione and the greater good?" Severus demanded.
"I'm not sure if your other master will think you're fully loyal if you're mar—"
"My other 'master,' as you so wonderfully refer to him, was so pleased by the news of our pending marriage that he practically demanded Lucius Malfoy hold a party in our honor," Severus spat back. "Because marriage to an old pure-blood family—"
"She's not a pureblood."
"And I'm not an idiot. I know she's not. My mother fucking groomed her so she would appear otherwise. But the Dark Lord thinks she's a lost heir to the Granger pure-blood line, and he's pleased that she's joining the last of the Prince pure-blood line. He wants to celebrate it, as he has all of his followers' unions."
"And you don't find that the least bit suspicious?"
"Why would I?"
"The man does not understand love. He cannot," Dumbledore said as if Severus should suddenly see the error of his ways by such a revelation.
It was, in fact, something Severus tried very hard not to scoff at. Of course the Dark Lord would not understand love.
"He may not understand love, but he understands marital relations and how children are born. And for a blood supremacist, a new generation of purebloods, or nearly so, is something he wants. Most of these marriages are not love matches anyway, so why should it matter?"
"Severus, I'm sorry. You must call off the engagement."
"Like hell," he snapped.
"Then I will have to make sure a wedding cannot take place," he casually threatened.
"And how will you arrange that, exactly? You're neither her guardian nor her caretaker now that she isn't a student. She could apprentice anywhere, so if you think taking that away from her will somehow deter us, it will not. You have no real pull in the Ministry, none that will allow you to falsify records." And there was the subtle change, the hardness in the old man's eye as Severus easily guessed what the bastard was trying to do. "Short of killing her, you cannot stop us."
"There are ways," Dumbledore said with a shrug, his eyes twinkling again as if he had not just tried to interfere with another man's life. "Now, have you news?"
"There were six new initiations three days ago. No one spoke, and because they were what the Dark Lord—"
"Tom," Dumbledore interrupted.
Severus sneered. "What the Dark Lord refers to as ... outer circle. Those who are worthy enough to wear the mask and bare the Mark but are just a special sort of lackey until they can prove themselves. It's what made me realize that there was a reason I and the others were selected for the positions we are in. It's either for talent or money, which leads me to believe the Dark Lord would be crippled if he lost his funding." Here, Severus paused. He'd been debating sharing this with Dumbledore for quite some time, not knowing if the old coot actually knew who his mother was, or the status of his family. But in for Knut ... "I asked my grandmother, Ena Prince, to not give me my inheritance until after my mother passes. She'll continue funding my apprenticeship, that was nonnegotiable, but she agreed. I don't want the Dark Lord to think I can be another bottomless vault he can leech off of."
"And what does Tom need money for?"
"The usual: food, shelter, blackmail. Nothing out of the ordinary."
Dumbledore nodded. "The new Death Eaters?"
"Young," Severus replied. "Newly graduated, only four are Slytherins, from what I could tell by their voices."
"The other two, foreigners?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, English. Familiar, though I don't think I've met them enough to know who they are by voice alone."
Dumbledore stroked his beard as he tilted his head, humming thoughtfully. "Outcasts of their houses, I would wager. Unpopular or poor," he sighed, and Severus refrained from rolling his eyes at the old man's lament. "It is as it is, I suppose."
"Quite," Severus said as the fireplace turned green. Alastor stepped out, shaking soot from his clothes. Severus smiled, a small thing that only lifted the corner of his mouth. He'd developed his Occlumency more over the last year, and now he found himself always wearing a mask, barely showing any emotion unless he was around someone he trusted completely. Hermione, Alastor, and Minerva were about the only ones who'd seen his true range of emotions. The McGonagalls, Black, and Lily were only getting half of him. The rest, well...
Dumbledore fell with the rest, of course.
Alastor saw him sitting in one of the chairs across the headmaster's desk and gave Severus a knowing smirk. It kind of made him look frightening.
"I hear congratulations are in order, Snape," he said as he hobbled toward Severus.
The young wizard stood, taking Alastor's hand. He was a bit taken aback when the grisly Auror pulled him in for a firm, quick embrace with a pat hard enough to knock the wind out of him.
"Alastor, you can't honestly think they should wed," Dumbledore said nonchalantly, though something in his posture said he was certain he could sway Alastor.
"They should," Alastor said. "Know where I heard it from?"
"Min," Severus said, already knowing it was highly likely the witch had been telling anyone and everyone she could that he had asked her permission for Hermione's hand.
"Aside from her," Alastor said, cuffing Severus upside the head good-naturedly. "The Prophet ."
Dumbledore shot Severus a glare, but he shook his head. He had no idea how his engagement had wound up in the Prophet , since he hadn't done it himself. And as happy (and very enthusiastic) as Hermione was over the engagement, he doubted she would have put a notice in the paper without telling him first.
"Seems someone felt the need to have it added to the social section."
His mother? Grandmother? The McGonagalls? Or maybe...
"Narcissa Malfoy," Severus concluded. He looked at Alastor as the man frowned. "Hermione and I were in Diagon Alley, celebrating her graduation and our betrothal, when we ran into the Malfoys. Hermione's ring is an heirloom, Narcissa spotted it and the next thing we knew, we were invited as guests of honor to a party to announce our pending nuptials. Which, I must say, makes it all the more amusing that she would go and put an ad out."
"You're going to attend a function with Death Eaters, and hadn't thought to inform me?" Dumbledore asked.
"To be frank, no. Considering I don't typically attend said functions on your commands, I hadn't thought to mention it. And since, as of now, it's merely a night of too much wine and dancing, I hardly thought it necessary."
Dumbledore stared at him coldly, and Severus stared back. He felt the niggle of intrusion at the edges of his mind and scoffed. Try, old man. Try.
When Dumbledore got nothing but day-to-day nonsense, he nodded and conceded. "Very well. You've made your point, Severus. If something happens, you will inform me at once."
"Of course," Severus agreed, barely keeping the sneer from his face. His ironic bow, however, was too good not to resist. He walked away.
Not marry Hermione? Because the bastard wanted him alone and miserable? No, he would do no such thing. Unless...
The image of his older self in Hermione's mind flashed in his mind: sneering and so utterly displeased with her. It was faded around the edges, but he was starting to see the older version of himself in the mirror every day.
But what if the reason you looked so bloody miserable is because she leaves you? What if Dumbledore convinces her to leave you? She knows the future, she knows you from then, so what if she knows...?
He couldn't finish the thought.
—————H—————
July 8, 1978
Witches and wizards gathered in their finery, dancing and twirling and mingling in shades of navy, green, gray, and black. The ballroom was exquisitely decorated, reminding Hermione of the Disney films her nana used to watch with her when she was a little girl. There was the heady scent of wine, chocolate, and rich foods mingling in the air, and a wonderful mix of chatter and music. It was wonderful, and it was all for her and Severus. It was also painfully overwhelming.
Her head ached from keeping her Occlumency walls up for so long, all while allowing her happiness to remain skimmable. On top of that, there was the need to remember all of her pure-blood etiquette. Hermione Granger never forgets a thing, of course, but putting on a believable act was much more difficult than she'd anticipated.
Severus was currently with Lucius, Rodolphus Lestrange, and a couple others, and to avoid looking like she couldn't function without him, she hung off to the side. She offered smiles to those who smiled at her, but for the most part, they all left her to herself. She was a Gryffindor, she supposed, a rare find among them this evening. So rare, it seemed, that she didn't recognize anyone from her own house.
She took in the room again, noticing the garden doors where guests could go for some air. Another glance at Severus told her he was watching her, his eyes shifting to her so subtly that she nearly missed it.
Hermione, aware he would know where she went, moved along the perimeter of the room and headed for the garden.
It had rained throughout most of the day, leaving the evening air crisp, if not a little damp. But out on the deck, gazing out at the amazing garden and the roaming albino peacocks, Hermione didn't care one lick.
"You should be inside." Narcissa Malfoy startled her, and she blushed as her hostess smiled gently.
"As should you, Lady Malfoy."
"Narcissa, please. Or Cissy. Lucius has always had a fondness for Severus and considers him a little brother. That makes you family."
"I didn't realize Severus and Lucius were that close. If I'm honest, he never really mentioned Lucius before I met you," Hermione replied, her cheeks warming a touch more.
"That's not terribly surprising. I was married to Lucius at that time and didn't know he was writing Severus. Severus, of course, did not mention you to Lucius before our meeting, but then afterward, the way Lucius carried on..." She chuckled. "He was quite pleased, of course. He was worried Severus' infatuation with the Mudblood would continue."
"Lily," Hermione supplied unnecessarily, and wondered if there had been too much vehemence in her voice. She shrugged, as if the whole thing was completely beneath her. "She tried to gain, or regain, Severus' attention early on, but she failed."
"As it should be," Narcissa said, then sighed heavily. "I don't suppose she was a terrible person, but..."
"Say no more." Hermione said. "I lived with her. A vain, vapid, self-centered creature. If she didn't have the whole of Gryffindor and all of her male acquaintances panting after her, she was a miserable bitch."
Narcissa threw her head back and laughed, a true, honest guffaw of elegance that actually made Hermione smile. There was awe, too, just beneath the surface, that a woman could be as lovely and elegant with a deep, hearty laugh.
"I knew a few witches like that as well. My heart was for Lucius from the moment I saw him, and I never looked at another. But there were some witches who hated that I had his attention. Was that how it was for you and Severus? You knew he was..."
"Merlin, no," Hermione said emphatically, earning another laugh. "Severus was cantankerous and rude, sneered at anyone he disliked from the moment I met him." Hermione shook her head. "But we grew on each other. I think he just needed to know I wasn't going to be like the others: turn my back the moment he was difficult to deal with."
"Severus does take some coaxing," Narcissa agreed as a pair of champagne flutes appeared between them.
Hermione took one, knowing there was most likely an invisible house-elf between them. She smiled at the space for a moment, hoping the little creature saw it before it disappeared.
"So, your wedding? When will it take place?" Narcissa asked before she took a sip of her drink.
Hermione looked down at her engagement ring. "We haven't discussed it, to be honest. I imagine not until next year," she answered, her mind drawing up the time-faded memory of Aurora Snape. She started school when Hermione had been in second year, right? And she was one of the oldest in her year, if she recalled, though her birthday had been long forgotten, if ever known. So, she would have been born sometime after September in ... two years?
Blushing deeply, Hermione took another sip of her champagne and said, "Likely by next year, no later than December next."
Narcissa stared. "You aren't with child, are you?"
"No!" Hermione hurried to reassure. "No, it's just..."
"You want to be," Narcissa said, softly and sadly. "I understand."
Hermione's heart ached for the woman, knowing that she would have to wait nearly as long for Draco.
Even though she knew it wasn't proper, Hermione reached out and placed her hand on Narcissa's arm. "You'll be a mother someday," she comforted, fighting the threatening flutters of her heart to give this woman some peace of mind. "Magic will know when the best time will be. Maybe it's just been timing."
"Bella hasn't been able to," Narcissa said in the softest of whispers.
"Probably for the best," Hermione retorted. "She doesn't seem exactly... altogether. I'm sorry, I know she's your sister."
Narcissa shrugged. "I was never as close to her as I was to our other sister, Andromeda. But she's... lost to us."
"I'm sorry."
"No, she's not... she was blasted from the family tapestry. We aren't supposed to speak of her."
Hermione nodded as though she understood and made a note to ask Severus about it later.
Narcissa took a deep breath, then grinned. "For the best. With Lucius' father taking a step away from everything for health reasons and Lucius stepping in to take over, it may be for the best we wait until we are resettled."
"Perhaps." Hermione nodded in agreement, taking a sip of her champagne.
There was something oddly comforting about the woman, and Hermione found she quite liked her. Given the chance, she imagined Narcissa could become an ally.
—————A—————
October 5, 1995
"A jinxed parchment?" Aurora's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "How utterly wicked."
Ginny smiled smugly. "I didn't actually tell anyone it was jinxed. Just you lot. And if any of you blabbed, then we were never going to make it."
"Admittedly, I'm a bit miffed I didn't think of it myself," Draco commented, emerging from the bathroom in the Room of Requirement.
Aurora had been on her way back to Gryffindor Tower from her father's rooms when she spotted her friends heading to the seventh floor. Apparently, sometime during her and Fred's absence in Hogsmeade, they'd come up with a plan to meet in the Room of Requirement for a sleepover, something that they hadn't done in too long. So, she joined Draco and Luna on the way.
Draco sat down in his gray pajamas, something the room had changed since they last used it. The pajamas were no longer house color-coordinated, and they could only tell what was for boys and what was for girls because there were two separate piles.
"May not have come up with the parchment bit, but you did come up with the quills," Harry pointed out.
"Quills?" Aurora frowned, and she saw that most of them had no idea what Harry and Draco were talking about. The only other person who seemed to know was Ron, and he was such a splotchy red, Aurora didn't think it was going to be something good.
Draco smiled smugly. "It's not like I'm cut off from my inheritance or Gringotts just yet. Father has no idea I'm not pining for a place with the Dark Lord, so I have money to spare. Quills, unbreakable, best of the best, and now charmed with a Protean Charm. The little serial numbers on the quill will change to show the time and date of our meetings. Once we start, that is. Hate for our illustrious instructor to catch wind of what we're doing before we even start."
"And you don't think it's gonna look suspicious for some of use to be using two-Galleon quills?" Ron asked, looking awfully indignant.
"Come of it, Ronald," Ginny huffed. "Hermione was the only one who a two-Galleon quill would've been wasted on."
"Is. Is . Stop talking like she's dead," Ron ground out vehemently.
Draco got this look on his face, one of true and utter wickedness, so much so that Neville paused briefly before taking his spot beside Aurora in the circle.
"You're right, Weasley," Draco said. "She's not dead. Actually..." He paused to summon his bag. Ron flinched as Draco drew his wand, and Luna ducked as Draco's satchel came soaring from the wall behind her. "Granger and I have kept in touch, and she mentioned a bloke."
"A bloke," Harry repeated. Ron's face went a deeper shade of red.
"Yes," Draco said as he opened his satchel and searched. "Unlike some, when I write, I don't just write about my problems or ramble about a sport she doesn't like. Even if I am going to beat you this year, Potter. No, I asked, and she was more than willing to gush. With proof."
Aurora did not like the smirk on Draco's face. She felt her stomach drop and her heart pound as he took a photo from his bag. He'd stayed with them all summer, and suddenly all the photo albums he was never allowed to look at before had become accessible. There was no doubt in Aurora's mind that the sneaky little thief had swiped one for a moment just like this one.
"I believe they were at a ball of some kind," Draco explained as he handed Ron the photo. Everyone hurried to look, but Aurora merely scowled at Draco.
"Bloody hell," Ron cursed, going pale.
"What's the matter, Weasel? Disappointed he's not a flaming ginger?"
"He looks like—"
"Snape," Ginny gasped. Luna shot Aurora a secret smile but said nothing.
"He really does," Harry noted, a frown coloring the edges of his shock. "Like... I mean, this bloke's hair is pulled back, and it doesn't seem that greasy, but—"
"He looks like Snape," Ron breathed.
"No," Ginny said, shaking her head. "No, this bloke doesn't look like him. Don't get me wrong, Hermione could get a guy with better looks, but he's not half bad. Just serious, is all."
"They look happy," Harry observed. "They sort of remind me of my parents. Like the way they look at each other in one of the photos I have. Happy."
"Way she carries on, I think she might be half in love with him already," Draco divulged casually, inspecting his nails.
"He's no Quidditch player," Ginny observed.
"I bet he likes books," Luna said as if she was genuinely unsure. "Hermione would only go for the studious sort, I'm sure."
"No," Ron said with certainty, shaking his head in denial. "No, they're just mates, is all. He's probably more into wizards, and Hermione just didn't want to ask me to go with her."
"You took offense to being given a two-Galleon quill," Aurora pointed out. "Exactly how were you planning on getting across the pond if you refuse to accept expensive gifts?"
Ron mimicked a fish, but obviously couldn't bring himself to say anything.
"Right, so, about this class I'm supposed to teach," Harry interjected. "Does it need a name?"
"Actual Defense Class?" Ginny mused.
"Potter's Army," Draco joked. "Or The Assembly of the Phoenix Chicks."
"Helpful, Malfoy," Harry snarked, elbowing Draco.
"What about the Defense Association?" Luna asked. "Simple, effective."
"We could call it the D.A. for short," Aurora mused. "Sort of sounds like... Well, we need to practice D.A. It's like we really can't be bothered to say the whole thing."
"I like it," Harry conceded.
"So tomorrow we'll spread the news, quietly," Luna said with an airy smile.
"We'll need someone to round up the Hufflepuffs," Ginny reminded.
"Can we not talk about that now?" Ron said, thrusting the photo of Aurora's parents back at Draco. "Let's do something fun."
"Like what?" Draco asked.
A football appeared in the middle of their semi-circle, its white and black pattern glinting in the candle light.
Harry grinned. "Ever play football, Neville?"