The Taming of the Shrew - Wizard Style - COMPLETE

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4-30-10 F


So many scrumptious reviews. I'm a very happy author. Thank you all.

The Hogwarts investigative team finally catches a break. The plot progresses. And there are a few embarrassed magic folk learning the Room of Requirement is sentient and can talk.


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Chapter Forty-Seven


Asleep

“If the Sorting Hat is correct,” Lucius said a couple of hectic weeks later when he was again sitting in Snape’s dungeon parlor, “we can at least disinfect the students by sending them through the Room of Requirement on some pretext each week. I would like to continue the physical exercise regimen, however. I agree it has a positive effect on the students, both for their health and because I’m getting fewer parental complaints of inappropriate sexual activity. I think the youngsters are just too worn out to bother.” Lucius sat relaxing in the warmth from the room’s fire. His eyes were closed, his head resting on the back of Snape’s black leather sofa. The poor wizard was worn out and he was having trouble staying awake in the heated room.

They had told their small, investigative group of Lucius’ discovery and each of the group had put the Sorting Hat on their own heads with the same results. They were all infected, Pureblood and non-Pureblood alike. The Purebloods and pregnant Hermione all showed signs of absorbing the chemical invader for no ill effects, while the others had it in the same spot in their brains where the Hat had originally identified it in Hermione’s.

Apparently Neville and Luna were generating enough private exercise that they were negating Luna’s response just as Hermione and Snape were washing it out of their blood streams. Nobody needed to ask Draco what he did; as a Pureblood he was also basically immune. The young Potions professor did learn not to unnecessarily touch any of the students to avoid setting off any bad reactions. After the first of the youngsters’ love/hate notes, he hadn’t let them near him, anyway.

“I can offer you a blanket and pillow and you can sleep on the sofa for a couple of hours if you like,” offered Snape, who was sitting at a small side table grinding up a dried root while analyzing with Lucius how to use the Sorting Hat’s new information. “Narcissa won’t be back until nearly dinnertime. It’s her day for a manicure, pedicure, and spa treatment in Hogsmeade. The house elf I send with her gets the same, so the duty is particularly prized,” he added drolly.

Lucius was tempted. His nights were becoming crowded; the endless school paperwork and increasing business problems had a new competitor for his time. Hermione’s pregnancy was draining him dry. Her hormones were rioting in a most delightful way and he would have enjoyed it immensely if he didn’t have the other items to contend with. As it was, with a voraciously horny witch in his bed, he got little sleep at night and had been stealing time from his daytime duties to catch catnaps whenever and wherever he could.

To cap it off, Hermione, who should have been helping him with some of the school paperwork and visitors, slept the morning away after jumping him three times a night, while he had to open the Headmaster’s office by nine for staff and student appointments and school business transactions.

“Just having this respite will help,” Lucius answered, his head lolling as his words slurred.

Snape looked over to see his friend had drifted off to sleep with his head fallen sideways and his arms lax in his severe, black Headmaster’s robes. He had loosened his tie and his white shirt collar was unbuttoned. Snape shook his head at Lucius’ stubborn, unconscious form and got up to fetch the blanket and pillow he’d offered. With a quiet Levicorpus, Lucius was resettled comfortably, lying full length, his head on the pillow and covered with the blanket, and Snape returned to his grinding. The blond never stirred.

Five owls had come and gone with messages before Lucius woke refreshed from his impromptu lie down. Slowly he came awake to the peaceful quiet of no running, laughing, shouting children, just the low rustle of paper. Blearily opening his eyes he immediately saw Severus still sitting at the table, now engrossed in one of his potions journals, a reading orb hanging in the air over his shoulder.

A fond smile lit Lucius’ icy eyes as he regarded his longtime accomplice in so many escapades he’d lost count.

The dark, dour man was never going to be a clotheshorse – Lucius would bet his fortune Narcissa had tried and given up - but the very simplicity of his wardrobe suited him, Lucius thought. He knew Snape’s trim form hadn’t changed in all the years they had known each other, from the occasional dips in the Malfoy pool where Narcissa, Draco and the two men had sometimes enjoyed a lazy summer afternoon.

Lucius surreptitiously pinched his own waist to be sure he wasn’t developing any love handles from his more sedentary days as Headmaster. He wanted to look his best for Hermione, not that she cared at the moment what he looked like as long as he had an erection. Her recent appetite for sex had surpassed his own, standing still. Sitting up with a bemused sigh, the blond wizard set aside the blanket he’d been covered with. “I fell asleep,” he said in some amazement.

“Four hours ago,” Snape replied, setting down his journal. “You’ve had three catastrophes and two sales pitches in the meantime. Don’t worry,” he said as Lucius began to rise, alarmed. “I dealt with the catastrophes and put off the sales people. Why isn’t Hermione fielding these types of interruptions for you?”

“What were the catastrophes?” sighed Lucius, sinking back onto the sofa and sifting his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. The resignation in his voice indicated a total lack of interest to the Halfblood wizard and he gave Lucius a clinical once-over, not happy at what he saw. Lucius was refreshed, but still tired.

“Second year Potions class made a purple fog that leaked into the hallway; Draco took care of it when I told him how to contain the mess. Someone’s been using Hagrid’s old hut for storing stolen merchandise. The Aurors were thrilled to discover the cache and have taken over. They’ll talk to you tomorrow. And Hermione couldn’t find her husband and worried that you had skipped out because of her insatiable sexual demands – her words, not mine.” Snape probed, “I never thought I’d ever see the day when sex was too much of a good thing for you. Yet here you are, snoring on my sofa.”

“I don’t snore,” Lucius claimed, but Snape only snorted. “Unfortunately,” the tired Pureblood said, “the rest is true. Not to be crass, but Narcissa didn’t develop into a sexual vampire during her pregnancy. Mostly she was feeling poorly. Hermione, on the other hand, seems to be training for the World Wizarding Fornication Olympics. I think I preferred her when she was trying to inflict bodily harm on me, it was less debilitating.”

Lucius sighed, “I find it ironic that so many of the witches want me because they think I’m bad and she rejects me for the same reason. My money doesn’t move her at all. All I am to her is a newly discovered toy with a penis, who has now sadly given her twins. ” Lucius exhaled with a defeated air.

“Well, as to being bad, you do have a reputation for being a fanatic with a talent for baroque subterfuges,” Snape replied and then winced in remembrance. “Looking into your mind is dizzying. Even the Dark Lord didn’t like to do it. It’s as though to get from point A you throw in the whole alphabet before you get to point B, and not in order either.”

“I don’t do it consciously - maybe it’s Malfoy genes. If so, Hermione will have her hands full with our children. She’s so direct sometimes it makes me cringe,” Lucius grouched. He waved away Snape’s assertion of his weird mental gyrations as unimportant. He always finally got to point B so what did it matter? “In any case, I’m obviously no religious fanatic, merely a retired political one. I suppose I might be called a sex fanatic, but I’m not a philanderer with it.”

“Does Hermione know all that?” asked Snape. “All she’s heard from us is that you’ve gone to the extreme of marrying her to further both your pocketbook and the Pureblood cause. If that doesn’t sound like political extremism I not sure what else could qualify.” Snape gazed at Lucius in some sympathy for the tangle their plan had made of Lucius’ marriage.

It had sounded so simple. Lucius had been willing to take on Hermione as a wife hoping for some vigor in bed. He’d obtained that. But he’d married a tigress who had sunk her teeth into Lucius’ tender hide and unfortunately, his heart. Severus knew that hadn’t been part of the plan, but he had been shortsighted there. Lucius had been lonely. Both he and Narcissa had known that. What they hadn’t known was Hermione would find her way straight through Lucius’ heart and embed herself into Lucius’ fiercely protected, secretive soul. Yes, ironic, indeed!

Lucius stilled for a moment, then he gave another great sigh. “I’m never going to have it all, am I? Not like you do.”

Snape had no answer for that. He couldn’t mention to Lucius that Hermione had shown some special care for her husband during their conversation at the lake so he remained silent.

Where is she?” asked Lucius.

“She’s in your apartments.” Severus perked up at the intriguing result of that visit. “When I spoke to her up there about an hour ago, she was locking and unlocking four sets of padded handcuffs, oiling the catches. I was a little surprised that she didn’t try to hide them. What is that all about?” Snape leaned his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the table. His midnight eyes gleamed with amusement, but he tried to keep any jocularity out of his voice.

“Oh dear Gods, ‘Step Six’. I’d forgot. I’d lend you the magazine, but you’re probably well beyond Step Seven by now. I guess I should go home.” Lucius rose and stretched, feeling quite a bit better for his unscheduled siesta if a little morose in general.

“Magazine?” asked Snape.

“I’ll send it down. You can read the article. Should we notify Hagrid about his hut?”

Snape shook his head decisively, his dark locks momentarily swishing against his face, “He and Olympe now reside in France permanently. He gave me the wards to the place a couple of years ago. Apparently someone has unlocked them. Hagrid was never very creative about that sort of thing. So no, we needn’t tell him. The place was empty and unused – until now.”

“Thank you for letting me sleep. I do feel better.” Lucius started for the door, twitching his robes into place and frowning at the wrinkles. A quick smoothing charm returned them to their pristine appearance.

Snape stood up but remained by the table, “Lucius, if Hermione’s pregnancy is keeping her from giving you the help you need, enlist Narcissa. I’ll take care of all the equipment and outside supplies issues. We need to organize the student rosters for sending them through the Room of Requirement. First, though, we need to confer with the Room ourselves. It was good work, the information you found out from the Hat. Who would have thought either entity could help us? Thank you.”

Lucius smiled and nodded, “I will welcome any assistance. I know you’re trying to run the School Governors and Ministry tie-ins from here and that must be difficult. But I do need the help now that my assistant-wife has all the hallmarks of a succubus on speed. He paused, then grinned sheepishly, “And she’s just as irresistible.”

Lucius shook his head at his own weakness, saluted his comrade and turned to leave, but stopped at the door, “Oh, and I’ll need a large container of the Sea Siren oil you make for Narcissa. It was the Hat’s bribe for telling me about the Room of Requirement.” The wily blond Headmaster had no intention of mentioning his underhanded deal with the old piece of leather to anyone. He saw Snape nod and left.

~~~~~~

“Lucius!” Hermione jumped up from the sofa and hurried over to him as he divested himself of the robes he’d slept in. She stood nearly on his toes and stamped one small foot to chase away her fear and upset with the handsome man, “Dammit, I was worried. You disappeared and no one knew where you were. I owled everyone before Snape answered me. I cleaned out the owl cote of birds.”

She tugged on his hand and guided him back to the sofa, sitting him down and perching herself on his lap. When he groaned, she peered into his eyes, “Your eyes are bloodshot. What’s wrong? I am to blame, aren’t I?” she mourned. “I’ll try to do better and if I want you in the middle of the night, I’ll…I’ll…” She broke into tears, “I’m so sorry. Snape said you were fast asleep on his sofa and you were extremely tired. It’s my fault.”

Lucius glared, wiping away her tears with his fingers, “It wasn’t Snape’s place to make you feel guilty. If I had wanted to, I could have denied you. When have I ever acted outside my own best interests? You’ve told me more than once that’s my chief trait.” He pursed his lips, flattening them in irritation, “It’s not you, it’s everything all together. If I could choose which part of my schedule to give up, do you honestly think it would be the sex?” His sincere outrage rang in his voice.

Hermione stared at her mate for a moment, then she laughed and wiped the remains of her tear tracks from her cheeks that Lucius missed. “I didn’t think of it that way. I just know I have been interrupting your sleep.”

“So… what were you going to say you would do in the middle of the night so I can get my rest?” he inquired, interested.

“I’d…um…,” she blushed.

“You’d masturbate? May I watch?” He grinned. They both knew that would defeat the whole purpose and he wouldn’t get any rest at all. Hermione grinned back. Even though the last time she had done it for him had been at that Muggle nightclub and wasn’t the best memory, they had both gone well past that incident now.

Lucius decided it was a good time to break the news of his new assistant, “Hermione, Severus wants me to use Narcissa for help now that you’re ‘hors de combat’, as it were.” He rubbed his little witch’s back in soothing circles, while keeping his other hand on her burgeoning tummy, hoping she would let the decision stand without any acrimony. “We can start her out as a receptionist.”

“I’d like to say I can do it,” she said bluntly, “but right now I can’t. I’m only two things lately: horny and sleepy, and neither of those will be useful in the Headmaster’s office. Tell Narcissa I can give her the particulars of the responsibilities and she can work her way up to taking over. Does she want to?”

“I don’t know,” Lucius shrugged, exhaling in relief at the averted conflict. “This is Severus’ decision. I didn’t talk to Narcissa.”

“Well, we’ll find out soon enough.” Hermione snuggled under her husband’s chin rubbing her face on his chest.

“Hermione, my dear, I’m a little surprised that you felt comfortable enough to oil my handcuffs in front of Severus. I would have thought you’d hide them.”

“Your handcuffs?” she bolted upright again, staring in consternation at him, “Oh my Goddess, I thought you got them from him so he knew all about them, anyway. They weren’t his?”

“Of course not. Why would I borrow something like that from him when I have my own?” Lucius’ lips turned up in a vague smile at his wife’s obvious chagrin. Then he had a stray thought, “Hermione, have you some sort of odd idea about me and Snape and handcuffs?”

Hermione saw the waiting honey-colored eyebrow and sighed. “The two of you are always bickering and yet it’s almost like an old married couple,” she whispered. “There is great love between you two. And you did say he blackmailed you into becoming Headmaster here.”

Lucius’ eyebrow rose even higher in astonishment.

“Oh… well… I suppose I wasn’t asking if the two of you…” she fluttered her fingers in embarrassment.

Lucius understood her question was one of long standing and his afternoon siesta in Severus’ apartment had unearthed what she ordinarily would not have asked.

“You were asking and your answer is I am faithful to you, just as Severus is faithful to Narcissa.”

Hermione heard his sincere promise of commitment and also knew he hadn’t answered the question, not really. Her interest in his answer lay only in their future, not his past, so she let the whole topic go with some relief. The possibility hadn’t occurred to her until she’d seen him with Snape a few times. She didn’t want to think about having to share her husband with another man, especially Snape, and she certainly didn’t want to be confronted with having to accept Lucius being bi-sexual; she loved him and didn’t want to share him with anyone else. A deep well of jealousy surfaced that shocked her. She fought for calm. He had promised. Now she could, she would, put it out of her mind.

Her sudden, wide smile put Lucius on his guard. Why was she smiling after being fobbed off with the non-answer he’d given about his past sex life? Except for that orgy, he and Snape hadn’t been together. In school, Severus had been way too young to bother with when Lucius was experimenting on both sides of the street. In retrospect, that had been just as well. He would rather have the dark-haired wizard for a friend now than a meaningless conquest back then.

Handcuffs and the non-existent past set aside as unimportant, Hermione wiggled on his lap and petted the slight cleft in his chin with delicate fingers, “You had a nice, long lie down, didn’t you?” At Lucius’ wary nod, Hermione bounced up and down, “Guess what? I’m not sleepy right now, either.”

Lucius groaned again, but he picked up his tiny, lecherous lady and carried her toward the bedroom, unutterably thankful that she had let his past sex life lapse back into the shadows where it belonged. By the time they reached the bedroom door, they were both smiling.

~~~~~~

In a quiet consultation late that night, again in Draco’s empty classroom, the little band of investigators met to hear what Lucius had discovered. The immediate reactions were fascinating to Lucius. When all of them understood the Room of Requirement was as sentient as the Sorting Hat, every face registered horrified dismay except for his own and Severus’. Narcissa was initially upset, then her blue eyes blazed retribution at her husband. Snape calmly returned her look of accusation with one of unholy anticipation.

Luna and Neville had identical red-flushed faces, looking at each other in shy alarm, but it was Draco who gave Lucius the best chuckle. The younger man’s mouth fell open in shock and Lucius could see the gears turning in his son’s mind as he absorbed the daunting news that the Room of Requirement had the ability to talk about what went on in it.

Hermione was glaring at him, too, but Lucius managed to avoid her accusing stare. He hadn’t known either, so she shouldn’t be too mad at him.

After enjoying the consternation all around, Lucius let them off the hook, “Just as with the Sorting Hat, the Room has a code of complicity for itself. It doesn’t give out gossip on any of the events that happen within its walls. It can’t. It was one reason Umbridge had to blast her way in. She couldn’t force the Room to give up any information to her in any other way, once she found the secret of it.”

At once Draco’s ashen color started seeping back to normal and he tossed a withering glare at his father, knowing exactly what had just gone on. He knew the senior Malfoy had announced it in the way he had on purpose.

Draco wasn’t his sire’s child for nothing; he sent a fake, fond, guilty glance over at Hermione who wasn’t looking his way, falsely intimating to his father that his alarm had been due to a secret rendezvous with his stepmother, just to get a bit of revenge.

Instantly the amusement in Lucius’ face was replaced by shock. Draco let him hang for a moment, then slowly let a crafty, gotcha smile curved his lips; Lucius’ heartbeat returned to his chest from his throat and now it was he who was glaring. Damned puppy knew just how to go for the jugular. Lucius drew a deep breath and his face evened out again; a slight touché smile was directed at his enterprising progeny, which was returned. Lucius wondered if it was useful to find out what Draco had been using the Room of Requirement for, but left that thought for another time.

The blond Headmaster had certainly gathered everyone’s undivided attention and once it was known that the Room kept its secrets, all were energized at the news. Now perhaps they could find some answers to the elusive toxin.

They quickly reached an agreement that the Room should make itself look like a target practice arena for wand spell-casting. Neville was the one to come up with the idea; he had wanted some place to practice when he was a student having problems with his wand; he remembered how useful the Room had been for Dumbledore’s Army and for himself.

When Neville explained it to the two former Death Eaters, eagerly seconded by both Hermione and Luna, the suggestion was met with cautious approval by all, including Narcissa and Draco.

They agreed that the plan should be put to the Room of Requirement as a request. To a man, they all vetoed the idea of Lucius talking to the Room. If it had an irascible personality like the Sorting Hat, Lucius might lose his temper and make the Room balk at helping them. Everyone decided that as Neville, Luna, and Hermione had all been favored by the Room of Requirement once before, it should fall to one or more of them to approach the Room with their idea; the three of them volunteered to go together.

Draco stayed silent; he didn’t remember Dumbledore’s Army or the Room of Requirement with the same enthusiasm as the other younger members of their team. Crashing open the portal with Umbridge hadn’t been his finest moment and he opted to wait with the older members. His more recent experience with the sentient Room was apparently safe.

Neither Lucius nor Narcissa had any understanding of the nuances of Draco hanging back and Lucius started to say something to his son about joining Neville, Hermione and Luna, but Severus caught Lucius’ eye with an imperceptible shake of his head. Lucius instantly turned his sentence into something innocuous and the moment passed without further comment. Snape knew he would be explaining to the blond wizard and his own wife later, why Draco wasn’t going with the other three.

~~~~~

Lucius, Severus, Draco, and Narcissa all waited impatiently for the three volunteers to report back on the Room’s response in the Snapes’ comfortable dungeon apartment. It was by no means a foregone conclusion that the Room would agree with their plan or give them the information they needed.

Several firewhiskeys found their way into the three men, while Narcissa tanked up on a couple of glasses of white wine, all of them hoping they were coming close to solving the problem afflicting the Purebloods.

It had been an unpleasant school year for the small investigative team; all the members of the group had been deflecting their own share of disturbances. Luna had treated a constant stream of victims of ambushes, petty potions poisonings, hair-pulling, and hexes; Neville had his hands full replenishing plants and herbs that had disappeared into illicit cauldron recipes for the potions poisonings, plus trying to protect his greenhouses from vandalism because he was a Pureblood.

Draco was hounded for his looks, his single state, and also for being a Pureblood. Of his three problems only his Pureblood chemistry had anything to do with the damages wrought by the toxin; his being stalked would have happened anyway, girl students being what they were around a young, attractive male.

Narcissa hadn’t fared well either; she’d been kept sequestered in the dungeon apartments unless she was accompanied by a house elf for protection. Severus refused to let her go out under any other circumstances unless she was with him. Except for her forays into the student dorms for samples of their personal products - also accompanied by a house elf - she’d been basically isolated. Narcissa knew Severus was doing it for her safety, but she was lonely when he had to go to the Ministry, sometimes for a few days. Her idea of companionship definitely did not include house elves. Draco and Luna were busy with other duties and Narcissa was a little leery of Hermione, so Mrs. Snape had few visitors in her dungeon apartment. No one else would understand why she was sequestered and she didn’t want anyone else to see Snape’s protective actions in a bad light.

It had been draining for everyone in the school, including all the other professors who were not in on the attempt to solve the toxin problem. The entire staff was fatigued and tempers were often high.

~~~~~



Snape had removed the ward traps from the dungeon hallways so the younger set could venture down in safety to report when their meeting with the Room of Requirement had finished.

It was three hours later, the clock striking three in the morning when the three young people knocked on Snape’s apartment door. “We did it,” announced Neville as he ushered in his co-schemers. The group within, who were all by that time a little hammered from the firewhiskeys and white wine, perked up at the smiling faces of the newcomers, but their greetings were a little slurred from a combination of liquor and fatigue.

“Do you care for something to drink in celebration?” enquired their host, waving grandiosely toward the sideboard where the liquor sat.

“I can’t have anything alcoholic,” Hermione said, “but you two go on,” she told Neville and Luna; they both poured themselves more white wine and sat together at the small table. The Room had been hard to sell on their idea, and Neville especially was parched.

“I see we have a little catching up to do,” Luna smiled whimsically, while medically eyeing the sofa sitters - Lucius, Draco, Narcissa, and Snape were all lined up in varying states of intoxication. “This burden has been difficult for all of us,” she soothed, “but I think you will be pleased with our report. The Room of Requirement was actually rather pleasant once it understood it wouldn’t be abused,” the young Mediwitch added.

Her non-threatening, fanciful voice somehow effortlessly injected her odd spirit of calm into the group and everyone felt their tight muscles relax with some surprise. They hadn’t even known they were stressed until Luna’s presence defused the suppressed air of gloom. Until that moment no one had wanted to pin his or her hopes on the Room of Requirement truly being able to help.

Snape was on one end of the sofa with Narcissa curled against him half asleep. Draco flanked her with Lucius anchoring the other end of the sofa. Hermione looked around but all the seats were taken, so she walked over to her husband and climbed up onto his lap, settling herself into his warmth. The Room of Requirement had been a little cool and his body heat felt wonderful.

Lucius openly nuzzled his nose into his wife’s hair, inhaling and then sighing gustily in contentment.

“Eww, Lucius, you smell like the Leaky Cauldron at last call.” Hermione waved her hand in front of her nose.

Draco leaned over toward her and deliberately blew his own version of whiskey breath in her face, “Father deserves a little recreational alcohol. He has the heaviest load to carry. Give him a break.”

Lucius growled, “Draco…”

Hermione leaned toward Draco, “I’m carrying the heaviest load,” she patted her ballooning belly. “If they’re like you, I’m carrying a load of mmphh,” she glared in impotent fury up at her husband who had taken the expedient way out of a brawl in his lap by covering his wife’s mouth with his hand.

“Now, now, my dears, please may we get on with the business at hand? I for one would like to see my bed sometime before daybreak.” His laconic drawl didn’t hide his rising temper as the firewhiskey wore off and fatigue swept in.

A second look at Lucius’ pale face told Hermione her husband was wilting under the late evening and his long hours. She traded an apologetic glance with Snape at the end of the sofa, remembering his dictum about fairy twats, and subsided.

Draco saw the same in his father’s face and eased back to sit closer to his mother. He had the grace to see he wasn’t defending his father so much as causing him more problems. It had galled him that Hermione, Neville, and Luna all knew why he hadn’t joined them in the Room of Requirement and the little witch’s remonstration about his father’s breath had lit the tinder smouldering in Draco’s conscience. Now he had to contend with guilt as well as shame. The young Potions professor slumped down, staring at his feet in misery.

A small hand crept into his and he looked up in surprise to see Hermione mouthing, “Sorry,” in a whisper. Draco nodded, then cast a glance at his father’s face again to see a warm, appreciative glow infuse the gray eyes so much like his own. Draco squeezed Hermione’s hand and let it drop back onto Lucius’ knee. He chanced a look over at his mother to see her slight, knowing smile. Draco finally understood what everyone else seemed already to know. His father was in love with the know-it-all witch. He sank back against the sofa, dumbfounded. This would take some getting used to. His father, actually in love.

“So who will volunteer to give us a brief description of the Room’s response?” snapped Snape in his stentorian professor’s voice, taking over the nearly comatose group and yanking them into temporary wakefulness. The alcohol had knocked everyone into a state of drowsiness.

Neville stood up, “At first the Room wasn’t very cooperative, but it hadn’t known of the toxin. I guess it doesn’t talk much to the Sorting Hat.”

Snape murmured, “That’s not surprising if the Room has any standards at all,” but he waved Neville on in his recitation.

Neville glanced at his wife and Luna smiled up at him in encouragement. “We, um, had to promise a few things before it would help us.”

Both Lucius and Severus sat straight up at that piece of unpleasant news.

“It’s not so bad, only the Room has decided it wants a holiday every year of one month when no one can use it for anything.” All three of the messengers looked at the two older men for their opinions.

“And based on this allowance, it will do all we ask?” queried Snape. He looked over at Lucius in a silent communion of agreement, then returned his dark-eyed gaze to Neville.

Neville and Luna nodded. Hermione had fallen sound asleep on her husband’s chest.

Snape nodded back, “That will be acceptable with the caveat that in case of absolute emergency we may abrogate the agreement for the space of the urgency, after which we will return to our pact.” He asked Neville, “Which month? Did it say?”

“July. School is out and it wanted to be free during nice weather. It didn’t say why and we thought that wasn’t important.” Neville sat down again and waited to be dismissed.

“Very well. Thank you for your negotiating. The Room can be rather stubborn at times.” Snape heard Narcissa hiss and knew his immediate future now included some form of physical chastisement to his person. He smiled and stood up. Would she choose his favorite? It happened rarely that he let her reciprocate and she was angry with him. She would likely not choose what he preferred, the cane. Pity.

Everyone else stood up, too, Lucius with Hermione limp in his arms. The exodus was almost unseemly for guests, but it had been a long day.

Severus turned to his wife, an apprehensive eagerness in his black eyes as he shut the heavy door, so no one heard her exclaim, “You knew the Room was sentient when you took me there?”

tbc...


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