Chapter Text
"Finally," Harry said happily, brushing off grass as he bounded to his feet. It hadn't been the most graceful of landings, but the bent umbrella they'd been using for a Portkey had remained intact, and Severus had done a better job than Harry of keeping his balance as they hit the ground.
"The train would have been more comfortable," chided Severus, reaching out a hand to steady him, though he was looking past Harry at wild green hillsides and the calm blue lake.
"Takes too long. And not as private." Harry grinned. "We might not have been the only wizards masquerading as Muggles. The last thing I want on my honeymoon is to be recognized."
Even Severus was smiling as they turned toward the country house towering atop the hill on which they were standing. "I just hope you're right about this being the most private hotel in all of England," he said. "I was beginning to think we'd have to go to Buenos Aires to get away from our throngs of admirers...and your friends."
Laughing, Harry hefted the small bag charmed to hold a week's worth of clothing, toiletries, sunscreen potions, and his Invisibility Cloak. His friends meant to be helpful, but even someone as clever as Hermione wasn't always clever enough to make herself scarce when all Harry wanted was to be alone with Severus. He'd been quite certain they would need the Invisibility Cloak when they rented a boat; having never been in the Lake District before, he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to make love while rocking on the peaceful water.
It was bad enough they'd had to keep the actual marriage ceremony fiercely private, attended only by the people they trusted the most. They also hadn't been able to slip away to anywhere isolated enough to have a honeymoon until now. Harry had done all the research himself to find a secluded spot, not even asking Hermione's advice, because he wanted to be able to leave the wizarding world for a while. Once, he never would have believed himself the sort to fancy romantic trappings. He'd always been uncomfortable with hearts and flowers, and trying to figure out something romantic to say that didn't sound as though he'd read it from the inside of a card was more like torture. Until he'd fallen in love with Severus -- it was easy to be romantic with him because all they had to do was look at each other and they would end up shagging for days. At least it felt like it, anyway.
They were on a gravel path bordered by lush ornamental shrubs. Off to the left was a hedgerow through which Harry could see the drive leading up to the front of the old hunting lodge that had been turned into a romantic getaway. To the right was a breathtaking view of Lake Windermere, with trees clustered around the far shore. As far as Harry could see, there wasn't another hotel or residence in sight.
Setting off up the path, he couldn't help letting the atmosphere sink in. They'd both needed to get away -- even after the Dark Lord's defeat there had been the matter of clearing Severus's name. Severus had found -- to his surprise, Harry thought -- that he was considered a hero and his opinions and advice had been much sought after in certain quarters. "It's just as beautiful as the brochure promised," Harry said, breathing in the scent of pines and cedars and the brief scent of roses as they rounded a curve in the path that broadened as the hotel itself came into full view.
"I hope you didn't decide on the Miss Potter Suite," Severus returned, but Harry noticed he too seemed entranced by the view of the graceful old lodge, with its jumble of peaked roofs and assortment of curved windows. "I think that would be calling attention to ourselves."
Harry laughed again as they approached the wide porch with its discreet registration sign. "No, but I did get us one with a private balcony and a big bay window."
"As long as there's a big bed," Severus replied softly, holding the door for him. They made their way to the desk, where Severus announced them: "Mr. Evans and Mr. Prince."
They were greeted politely but perfunctorily -- evidently the Muggle clerks and concierges had no idea who they were, which was exactly as Harry had hoped it would be. Whoever had booked the Miss Potter Suite, named for a Muggle children's author with whom Harry had only the vaguest acquaintance, had evidently left an enormous tip. The staff was still buzzing about it.
"I hope it's some famous Muggle in that suite," Harry whispered to Severus. "Means everyone else's attention will be on them instead of us."
Severus wrinkled his nose faintly. "I hope there are no celebrities anywhere in the vicinity. I would prefer to avoid the attention of both Fleet Street and the Daily Prophet."
Grinning, Harry glanced around the lobby. "I don't think you have to worry about the Daily Prophet here. I doubt if any other wizard has ever stayed here..." His voice trailed off as he caught a glimpse of a couple entering the oak paneled restaurant facing the lake. The man had long blond hair, and the woman...well, that was a silly thought. It wasn't as if the Malfoys would have been caught dead in a Muggle hotel, not even one so luxurious as this. "At least, the odds of any wizard being here now are astronomical," he amended.
Just then the boy who had collected their bags approached to gesture that they should follow him. "Finally we shall enjoy some of this legendary privacy," muttered Severus, and Harry smiled at him.
But the bellboy didn't seem to be the quickest Acromantula in the web. First he led them down the wrong corridor, asking apologetically that they turn around, and then he didn't seem to be able to find the correct key for their room. When, finally, he pushed the door open, Harry and Severus were met with two amazing sights. One was the view of the Lake District beyond the terrace outside the enormous bay windows. The other was the view of the half-undressed couple sprawled on the large couch below the sill.
"Ginny!" Harry gasped, as the identity of at least one of the amorous couple slammed into him. "What are you doing here?"
But the shock had only barely begun to sink in when her companion raised his head and gave Harry another one. Beside him, he heard Severus suck in a breath. "Draco?" he asked, sounding equally horrified.
Ginny recovered first, sitting up and straightening her unbuttoned blouse. "What are you doing in my suite?" she demanded.
Having no answer, Harry glanced at the bellboy. "The Rose Room," he muttered.
"This is not the Rose Room, you imbecile," Draco spat, tugging his flies together. "Can't you see that all the furnishings are green? Now get out of here, all of you!" At Severus's raised eyebrow, he amended, "Er, nice to see you, sir, very grateful for your testimony at the Ministry, have a lovely holiday. Goodbye."
Shaking his head, Severus said in evident wonder, "Draco, I would have testified before the Wizengamot that you were gay."
Behind them the hapless bellboy made a strangled noise and one of their pieces of luggage hit the elegant hardwood floor. "Er," Draco began, glancing at Ginny before looking back at Severus. "Whatever you've heard was just common room gossip," he said hotly.
Ginny, looking outraged, swung her legs off the edge of the overly floral sofa. "How on earth did you find this place, Harry? It's completely isolated from --" She looked over his shoulder at the hovering bellboy. "From, you know, certain types."
"Certain types need to get away as much as other people," Harry replied. Draco, now properly buttoned, reached for the open door of their suite, apparently about to shut it in their faces.
"So you'll understand why we won't ask you in," Draco said, starting to close the door.
"Like we'd even want --" Harry began as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Severus was none too gently pulling him back from the rapidly closing door.
"I have no desire to begin my married life mending a broken nose," he said softly into Harry's ear. In the time it had taken for Harry to look up at his husband, the door has closed with a firm click.
"How do you like that?" Harry said, as the bellboy collected the fallen bag and led them down the hall to the proper room. "Who knew the pointy little git even liked girls?" Severus, despite his own slip earlier, put one finger to his lips, indicating the bellboy who was at last fitting the key into a suite at the opposite end of the hall. For a moment, all three of them seem united in silent accord until it was revealed that the room was indeed unoccupied.
With a barely concealed sigh of relief, the bellboy preceded them into the lushly appointed Rose Room and set their luggage down. Harry pulled out his wallet and slid a tip into the outstretched hand, since the bellboy seemed quite anxious to get out of there.
"I can't help but notice that you're more concerned with Mr. Malfoy's presence than Miss Weasley's," Severus said, once the door of the suite had closed behind him.
For a moment Harry's mouth just hung open. "Draco's with Ginny?" he spluttered, as if just putting their half-dressed state together with their obvious intimacy in the romantic bedroom. He began to laugh, letting himself be pulled easily into Severus's arms. "Oh god, I don't know who to feel the most sorry for."
"Us," Severus said, though he was snickering as well. "I would prefer to have that image Obliviated."
"Not as much as Lucius Malfoy will when he finds out." Harry was still grinning, shuffling Severus toward the bed, leaving their bags forgotten on the floor and ignoring the stunning view over the terrace windows. "Or Arthur Weasley. There might be another Wizarding war."
"Which will not be our problem." Severus kissed him, kicking his shoes to the side, hands reaching to unbutton Harry's trousers. "Any additional crises in our world will have to work themselves out while we are enjoying the most private hotel in..."
There was a pounding on the door.
"Fuck," groaned Harry and Severus together.
Severus glanced down at Harry's partially undressed state and gestured toward the door, adding, "Let me take care of this." Harry walked behind one of the large cushioned chairs, tugging his trousers back up and hoping it wasn't Ginny or Draco coming to explain.
When Severus opened the door, however, the concierge greeted him and began to apologize profusely for the bellboy's error, stepping inside before Severus could nod and slam the door in his face. From his glimpse of Severus's expression, Harry became a bit nervous that he was about to draw his wand. The concierge must have sensed his mood as well, because he quickly added, "We wish to invite you to dine in our Michelin Star restaurant. We will cover the cost of your meal."
Harry wasn't certain what the Michelin Star meant, but he was pretty sure it was a Muggle prize. And he knew from having researched the hotel that this was a generous offer -- more than the cost of a night's stay. And, he had to admit, he was hungry. "Dinner sounds good," he confessed.
"You realize that they probably made the same offer to Mr. Malfoy and Miss Weasley," grumbled Severus.
"I'm afraid that the other couple was indisposed," the concierge said with a small cough.
"I suppose a meal before we begin to...see the sights..."
While the concierge was facing Severus, Harry glanced down at Severus's groin, letting him know the only sight he wanted to see but he shrugged to let him know he didn't mind eating first. They had the rest of their lives. And it wasn't as though this was their first night of married life. Severus had been living with Harry practically from the moment they'd first discovered they didn't hate each quite as much as they had in school. A honeymoon was a honeymoon, and it couldn't hurt to have a romantic dinner together.
The concierge was smiling, obviously relieved that they weren't going to make a fuss. He even made a dismissive gesture when Severus reached into his pocket. "Oh no, sir, please," he said, allowing Severus to guide him toward the door, "We'll expect you downstairs."
When the door was shut at last, Harry came out from behind the chair, dutifully done up and no longer aroused. Well, at least no longer as aroused. "I'm starved," he admitted. "I was so busy packing and checking last-minute details, that I haven't eaten since breakfast."
One dark eyebrow arched. "You mean because you insisted that it was good luck to start a honeymoon trip by making love in the shower," said Severus, but he didn't really look put out. "I'm hungry too." They changed quickly into something a bit less travel-worn and followed the discreetly placed signs down to the terrace restaurant.
They stopped on the landing of the heavy stone staircase, gazing out of the window at the sweeping view of the lake. There was someone heading down the path toward the lake with a peculiar implement over his shoulder, sort of like a hoe but with a set of spiked claws around the digging part. For a moment, something about the figure was familiar and Harry turned to Severus, taking his eyes off the figure for just a moment.
"Is that --" he began but by the time he'd turned back to the window, the figure was gone.
"Hmmm?" Severus said, his shoulder leaning very close to Harry's.
"Never mind," Harry said, peering into the thick glass once more before turning away. It must have been his imagination.
They were given a cozy table by the window, again with a stunning view of Lake Windermere. Dinner began with Scottish scallops and a bottle of French wine, which seemed auspicious. Unfortunately, it seemed less auspicious when the pair of birds Harry spotted soaring over the lake began to look suspiciously like two people flying on brooms.
Severus followed his gaze, squinting. "Please tell me that that is not George Weasley."
Harry was about to say that it couldn't be when one of the brooms dove in a showy maneuver toward the water, quickly followed by the other. "I think it is," he sighed. "And Angelina Johnson." He'd watched Angelina play Quidditch often enough to be familiar with her moves.
"I hope you remembered that cloak of yours, or we may never leave our room after this meal," grumbled Severus.
"There are plenty of other hotels in the area -- I'm sure they aren't staying here," Harry said optimistically. "Anyway, what are the odds that Ginny and George would end up in the same hotel? You'd think the..."
"Severus!" The exclamation had come from behind them. Harry's heart sank further as he turned to look.
"Professor McGonagall," he said with a feeble smile.
"And Mr. Potter, how delightful to see you." Minerva McGonagall did, indeed, look happy to have spotted someone she knew.
The same could not be said for Severus, who looked as though he'd just found a doxy in his truffle risotto. "I thought you always took your holidays on Skye," he said.
"I thought I would try something different this year. I was invited by a...friend." A small, secretive smile crossed McGonagall's face. Though Harry most sincerely did not want to think about what might have put it there, he hoped that this friend desired privacy as much as Harry and Severus did, particularly right at this moment. "In fact, I can't stay -- I only came to see the famous restaurant, and then I spotted you here."
"It was very nice of you to come say hello." Harry hoped he sounded sincere.
"Yes, enjoy your holiday, Minerva." Severus stabbed his fork into a scallop. Harry wiggled back up in his seat as McGonagall waved cheerily and strode back the way she had come, straining as Severus mumbled, "Most private hotel my arse."
"I can't help it if we've run into a few --"
"Few? You mean a veritable Hogwarts reunion here in the Lake Country," Severus said, definitely sounding irritated now. Harry checked the tablecloth to make sure it was long enough to reach to the floor before he toed off one shoe and rubbed his foot along Severus's leg. Severus shot him a glare, scooting his leg away from Harry's foot. "Don't try to be charming," he sniffed, reaching for his wine glass. Harry watched him take a sip before trying his foot again. "Potter," Severus said, narrowing his eyes.
"Yes, Professor?" Harry said, dropping his foot voluntarily this time and taking several bites of something that tasted like ashes in his mouth.
"Just exactly how did you hear about this place?" asked Severus.
Since they were -- at least for now -- not snarling at each other, Harry considered the question. "There was this brochure," he recalled, pushing aside the no-doubt perfectly prepared asparagus, something he'd never cared for.
"Yes?" prompted Severus, starting slightly when a shadow crossed their table. It was, however, just the waiter with their main courses, depositing two plates of venison loin that looked as though they were falling succulently off the bone. "Where did you get it?"
"I --" A frown crossed his forehead. "I don't remember," he admitted. Severus opened his mouth to say something, no doubt about the vagaries of Gryffindors but Harry rushed in to defend himself. "But I looked it up myself after I read the brochure," he said. True to his expectations, the venison sliced with just the merest suggestion of a knife touching it. "It's in all the guide books." Against his expectations, Harry felt a soft brush against his own leg, Severus's toes sliding over his ankle.
"Well, perhaps a few familiar faces won't mar our enjoyment of the lake," Severus admitted, turning his own attention to the venison. With Severus's toes wiggling against his foot, Harry had to force himself to concentrate on his own meal.
"Miles and miles of empty countryside," he agreed, forking up one of the flaky bits of herbed spaetzle, "not to mention all that water." Severus's foot had found Harry's socked one, rubbing along his instep. "And I brought my cloak," he added softly, making sure there were no hovering waiters.
Severus had just opened his mouth to reply, and judging by the warmth in his eyes, it was something Harry wanted to hear, when the lights overhead, and indeed apparently out in the lobby, flickered several times and then went out. Distressed murmurs went through the diners, but there were candles in elegant glass votives that provided enough light with which to see, particularly with the dusk still illuminating the lake out the window.
Harry looked over the flicker of the candle, not minding that the candlelight softened the lines of Severus's features. He leaned over and whispered, "Did you do that?"
From somewhere nearby, Harry heard a soft pop. The table jostled and a quavering voice from underneath it said, "No, I did." Harry felt the blood draining out of his face. Looking over at Severus, he realized Severus had gone pale as well. As one they lifted the tablecloth up and peered into the murky gloom beneath.
"Longbottom?" Severus growled.
"Neville?" asked Harry as he realized the figure huddled under their table was his friend. Or, if Severus's expression was anything to go by, his about-to-be-hexed friend. "What are you doing?"
"Hullo," Neville said, glancing quickly from Severus to Harry, looking as uneasy as he had in Potions class when he'd known Professor Snape was about to ridicule him. "Sorry to interrupt your dinner, but when I realized you were here, I knew you were the perfect wizards to help. There's a bit of a situation with Professor Sprout..."
If possible, Severus's glower grew even more fierce. "We're here on holiday, Neville," Harry said, striving to keep his voice level while at the same time making himself very clear. "We came here because we didn't expect to see any other wizards. Whatever is happening with Professor Sprout, I'm sure someone at Hogwarts can take care of it."
"But Professor Sprout is here," Neville said.
"Here...in the Lake District?" asked Severus. "Surely you don't mean at this hotel?" The electric lights in the room all sprang back on. Several couples at nearby tables cheered and clapped.
"I didn't know she was in the hotel until just a couple of hours ago!" Neville whimpered, cowering near the back legs of the table. "I saw her down at the lake..."
"Wait a minute," interrupted Harry. "Why are you visiting Lake Windermere?"
"I came with a...friend. We thought we would try something different this year." Blushing, Neville bit his lip, and Harry glanced at Severus, seeing his own horrified suspicion echoed in Severus's expression. "Anyway, that's not what's important. What's important is that Professor Sprout and Professor Slughorn were..."
"Slughorn is here?" Severus barked, pushing his venison away. "I believe I shall go to Hogsmeade. It seems less likely that I will encounter anyone I know there than here."
Harry had to agree that this trip was rapidly becoming a nightmare, but Severus's temper wasn't helping matters. "Just wait a minute," he said irritably. "Neville, get out from under there. Whatever they were doing is not our business, do you understand?"
"Even if they were potentially harvesting illegal..."
"Not. Our. Business." Harry jerked an exasperated thumb at Neville, who scooted quickly out from under the table. "If you think there's a real problem, ask Professor McGonagall -- we saw her just a few minutes ago. We are on holiday."
"Sorry," Neville said meekly, backing away from their table and stumbling into a waiter carrying a tray of appetizers. The waiter and the tray went flying in opposite directions, as did the appetizers. Neville turned to the waiter to apologize, and Harry turned back to Severus.
"I have no idea how this happened. Look at the brochure in the lobby -- it says that this is reputed to be the most private hotel in..."
Severus was rolling his eyes. "Let's just finish this disaster of a meal and go back to our room before we discover that the Plenipotentiary Session of the Wizengamot has decided to convene on the terrace."
Harry knew that tone of voice. It meant the possibility of sex later was decreasing with each stab of Severus's fork. Desperately Harry clenched his wand under the table and levitated as many appetizers back onto the spilled tray as he could get away with without arousing suspicion. Then he slid out of his chair and knelt down, pretending to help Neville, who was, despite the horrified waiter trying to dissuade him, trying to scoop dainty amuse bouches back onto the platter.
"Look, Neville," Harry said, leaning close enough to not be overheard. "Severus and I are --"
"On holiday, I know," Neville said, peering at something that looked like an olive wrapped in flaky pastry, "I said I was so --"
"Not just on holiday," Harry whispered urgently, "You know we got married a few weeks ago and we haven't had time for --"
"Honeymoon?" Neville burst out, sending more olives scattering. "Oh God, I'm really, really --"
"Sorry, I know," Harry said, gesturing for Neville to keep his voice down. "It's just that we don't want anyone to know. You know how Sev -- Professor Snape is about having anyone make a fuss."
Neville nodded thoughtfully and Harry realized he'd forgotten that Neville liked to eat when he was thinking. He took an absent bite of the olive. Behind them the waiter looked like he was about to swoon. "Do I ever," said Neville feelingly. "Remember that time he got the Order of --" Neville gulped, staring over Harry's shoulder as all the blood seemed to drain from his face. "Merlin," he finished weakly.
"He's staring at us, isn't he?" Harry asked with a sigh.
Mutely Neville nodded, finishing off the olive and reaching for another despite the fact that it had been scooped off the floor.
"And scowling?" Again Neville nodded. Harry had a sudden vivid image of himself lying in bed while Severus turned the key in a chastity belt.
"More like growling, really," Neville decided, waving the olive fragment between them. "Like a bear. Or a really angry wolverine."
"I'd better go," sighed Harry and Neville nodded his agreement. Dusting himself off, Harry slid back behind the table, ignoring the waiter's now frantic attempts to pry an herb-encrusted olive out of Neville's fingers.
"Enjoy yourself?" Severus said in an overly honeyed voice.
"What? Oh, just um, helping Neville. Housemates and all that." He tried to forestall any more questions by forking up more of the now-chilling venison.
"Run into any more housemates while you were down there?" Severus asked, the sweetness in his voice sending cascades of ice into Harry's blood. He shook his head once. "Former professors?" Harry shook his head again. "Ghosts, perhaps? Or deceased Dark Lords?"
Harry could almost feel the clamp of the chastity belt closing around his groin. "I was just trying to --"
"To help, I know," replied Severus, rolling his eyes before snapping out, "Longbottom!" Half the room froze in terror; somewhere a fork clattered onto a plate. "Stop eating those. You don't know where they've been."
"I'll bring you a fresh plate," the waiter interjected, hustling Neville to a table. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"I have a new plan for our holiday," Severus announced in a voice that was no less intimidating for its softness. "After this meal, we will return to our room, and we will eat the remainder of our meals en suite."
"What about seeing the lake?" Harry asked.
"That lake?" With a gesture Severus indicated the window. "I believe the view upstairs is just as impressive."
"But I thought we were going to take a romantic boat ride." Harry waggled his eyebrows.
"Undoubtedly our boat would be rammed by a professional Quidditch team. It would seem that we would be less likely to encounter another wizard on the lake at Hogsmeade than here at Windermere."
Harry was about to object when he was interrupted by shrieks and exclamations from other diners, followed by quite a bit of pointing and rushing at the window as people shouted, "Fire! It's on fire!" A quick glance past the terrace confirmed that, in fact, the dusky air was filling with smoke.
After a quick glower in Harry's direction, Severus, too, rose and walked to the window with Harry following. Indeed, one of the small lodges appeared to be burning. What was most peculiar was the fact that this particular lodge appeared to be made entirely of stone. "That can't be natural," muttered Severus.
"Maybe it's McGonagall -- she found out Draco was in the hotel and wanted to be sure he stayed away," Harry speculated hopefully.
A moment later, however, his hopes were dashed as several entirely-too-familiar figures raced into view. "THIS IS YOUR FAULT, WEASLEY!" shouted Lucius Malfoy so loudly that he could be heard through the glass.
"THAT'S MY LODGE!" Arthur Weasley was shouting in turn. "I PAID FOR IT!" Molly was only one step behind him, brandishing her wand and looking as though she expected to use it.
Harry was envisioning being grasped by the wrist and marched upstairs for some punishment he couldn't begin to imagine when he heard an unexpected sound. Severus was laughing. He sat down hard on his chair, eyes wide in astonishment. He could only stare when Severus reached out blindly for a napkin. Wordlessly Harry pushed one into his grasp.
"Of course Lucius would be here," Severus managed at last, daubing at his eyes with the napkin. "Now if only the ghost of --"
"Shhhh!" Harry said, looking around nervously. "Don't invite trouble."
"I was going to say if the ghost of Merlin himself would drop by the party would be complete," Severus said, and for a moment it looked frighteningly enough like he was going to dissolve into giggles again.
"Shouldn't we..." Harry began, only to find himself under the weight of Severus's bemused stare, "...you know, do something?"
There was a sudden clap of thunder outside and a heavy patter of rain -- oddly enough, no doubt, to the observing Muggles -- fell only on the burning lodge. Severus leaned over, as if to impart a great secret. Harry leaned in closer, half dreading what Severus was going to say. "I know this will come as a great shock to you, but we are not the only wizards here," he said, breaking out into chuckles again.
"Oh, very funny," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away. But the sight right across from them was Neville's table, and there seemed to be a green tentacle peeking out from under the tablecloth and wrapping around Neville's ankle. He turned back to Severus. "Our friends -- well, your friends and my friends -- are out there yelling and casting spells at each other. Don't you think we should --"
Harry would have gone on but there was suddenly a hand across his mouth. "No, I do not," Severus said, lifting his fingers away.
"But --" The hand clamped over his mouth again.
"Just because you have a thing about saving people does not mean we need to rush to everyone's rescue merely because there's been a little fire," Severus said, peeling his fingers away again.
"Have you been talking to Hermione?" Harry asked, flexing his lips several times to make sure they were still in working -- and kissing -- order.
Severus narrowed his eyes. "Why, is she here too?"
"No, but she thinks I have a thing about saving people, too," Harry said. The crowd by the window was dispersing, heading back to their seats. The next time he looked over, Neville's table was empty, though there were a few leaves on the chair and the tablecloth still fluttered suspiciously.
"Whatever is going on outside, whatever dispute Lucius has with Arthur, is none, I repeat, absolutely none of our affair," Severus said with exaggerated patience.
Just then, the door to the restaurant burst open, accompanied by a strong blast of smoky air. Lucius Malfoy, whose normally immaculate hair had come loose from its queue, stood in the door frame, his imperious gaze sweeping the dining room. Harry's heart sank. It looked as though he was searching for just one --
"Ah, Severus," Malfoy said, sweeping into the room as though he'd just spotted Snape at a cozy Death Eater cocktail party at the Manor.
Beside Harry, Severus groaned. Hard on Malfoy's heels was Arthur Weasley. "Harry, my boy," Arthur called, elbowing Lucius out of the way as he approached their table.
"Maybe we could tell them it's not really us," Harry whispered urgently. "That we're just Polyjuiced to look like..."
Severus began to laugh again. For a minute, as both Arthur and Lucius skidded to a halt, Harry thought that this might be an even better way to convince them it wasn't really Severus Snape than claiming to have taken Polyjuice. But then Lucius got a conspiratorial smirk, and resumed his approach.
"Ridiculous, isn't it? I come here for a quiet weekend away from the burdens of the Malfoy estate..."
"You came here to hide among Muggles and hoped the Ministry wouldn't notice you slinking away!" barked Arthur loudly enough that several Muggle heads turned. Lowering his voice, he continued, "Do you think any of us believes you'd choose a Muggle establishment for any reason other than to conceal your whereabouts? Fortunately, we've had a man on you for weeks!"
"And then," Lucius went on as if Arthur had never spoken, smiling and shaking his head at Severus, "This man and his wife burst in on myself and my wife during a private dinner in our private lodge, claiming that he booked the property. If any Weasley claimed to have enough money for such a holiday, I'd think the Ministry would want to look at his financial records..."
Before Harry could stop him, Arthur lunged at Lucius, knocking him directly across Harry and Severus's table. Plates and silverware went flying as the two struggled, shouting obscenities.
"You're certain we shouldn't intervene?" Harry hissed at Severus as his wine glass dropped into his lap. Another softly murmured spell banished the stain.
"I think that we should slowly and carefully back away from the..."
"Harry!" That was Molly Weasley, rushing into the dining room with her wand drawn. "Do something!"
As much as Harry hated to contradict Severus -- he knew he'd be sorry later -- Harry knew that she was right. Something had to be done before the Aurors had to come Obliviate every single person staying in this hotel. Unfortunately, he could only think of one distraction that didn't directly involve himself. "You should go get Ginny," he said. "She's staying upstairs."
"What?" Molly shrieked. Narcissa Malfoy had just raced into the room as well -- as quickly as one could race in four-inch high heels and a fashionable narrow skirt -- and halted, staring in horror between Severus and her husband.
"Ginny's in the hotel," Harry repeated. "We saw her earlier."
"With Draco," drawled Severus.
Some of the women's confusion must have been apparent to the two combatants. "Draco? My Draco?" Lucius asked, ducking a two-fingered poke from Arthur.
Harry sat back in his chair, grateful for once that he was not the center of all the chaos. "Of course he's your Draco," he replied. "Who else would saddle someone with that name?" Harry's companion cleared his throat delicately, and Harry remembered that Severus didn't exactly rank up there with Diana or Jack for baby names.
"What do you mean with Draco?" Arthur asked, barely managing to keep himself from falling into a surreptitiously cast puddle of water that had materialized beside the table. Unfortunately a hurrying maître d', probably attempting to put an end to the brawl, wasn't so lucky. He skidded, shouted out something that probably hadn't been heard in this exclusive dining room since it was a hunting lodge decades ago, and sprawled, face down in front of Mr. Malfoy, out cold.
"You know," Severus said, waving one hand off-handedly, "with."
Harry made a circle with his thumb and forefinger on one hand and inserted the index finger of his other hand into the hole, moving it back and forth suggestively. Narcissa gasped and covered her mouth in shock.
"Not with with?" Molly exclaimed, her face looking like a thundercloud was passing over it.
"With with," confirmed Severus, barely managing to control the smirk that twitched at the corners of his mouth.
Harry felt something brush over the top of his foot. He shot a look at Severus, wondering how on earth he could have the concentration enough to be amorous at a time like this, when the touch went on a tad too long for a foot. Taking advantage of the confusion, Harry lifted the tablecloth. There was a tentacle under it, cascading over his foot. From the direction it was headed, Harry hoped the hurrying waiters were there to take the fallen maître d' out of tentacle range.
"This is all your fault," Arthur raged, lunging anew at Lucius. What little remained of their silverware clattered over the edge of the table as Lucius's arms flailed, barely missing hitting Harry in the chin. Unhappily Harry turned to Molly to find her pulling Narcissa's hair out of its tight chignon.
"Your little slut --" Lucius began, only to get a very peculiar expression on his face. Harry felt the tentacle under the table shift. He risked another peek and realized the thick ropey thing had taken hold of Malfoy's ankle.
"Slut?" Molly screamed, and suddenly Narcissa went flying over their table.
"As diversions go," Severus commented, ducking yet another flailing limb, "this one leaves a bit to be desired."
"Speaking of leaves --" Harry began, wiggling his own foot out of the most immediate path of the wayward tentacle. Luckily two waiters had dragged the maître d' to his feet, one of them slapping his face, presumably trying to rouse him but with rather more force, Harry thought, than the task required. The tentacle was weaving around scuffling feet back toward its own table. "Was that thing your idea?"
"Certainly not. And speaking of leaves, I might suggest that that is what a gentleman does when faced with such disgraceful behavior on the part of his associates."
Harry glanced over at Arthur, who appeared to be more than holding his own against Lucius. It wasn't as if the Malfoys were going to be any threat to the Weasleys this time, particularly since George and Angelina had just raced breathlessly into the dining room, having apparently left their brooms elsewhere. "Think we could hide under the table long enough to Apparate?" he asked.
There was no time. "Harry! What in the name of Merlin's baggy Y-fronts happened?" demanded Angelina, while George flung himself into the fray, trying to pull Lucius off his father.
"Some mix-up with the rooms," Harry said as offhandedly as possible. Severus was tugging on his arm, indicating the rear exit from the dining room that presumably led into the kitchen. "Double-booked, it sounds like."
"That room is ours!" Molly shouted, swinging her bag at Narcissa.
"You don't suppose the Malfoys used the name 'Weasley' on their reservation to hide from the Ministry?" Harry whispered to Severus.
"That would explain a great deal," nodded Severus, pulling Harry bodily toward the swinging door. "Though it does not explain why a Weasley family reunion seems to be taking place in the Lake District, nor why Longbottom is here, nor Minerva..."
They had reached the exit. A quick glance back revealed to Harry that both Lucius and Arthur had tentacles wrapped around their legs, forcing them to expend more energy on remaining upright than fighting. Molly was hacking at the one trapping Arthur with a butter knife, while Narcissa had sat down at Neville's table and appeared to be discreetly eating his gnocchi. "We can work all that out later," he said, wondering whether someone had cast a Confundus charm on every Muggle in the hotel.
"You cannot be in here!" the line cook shouted as they raced through the kitchen. Harry waved an apology, fearful that Severus might hex the next person to irritate him. The service corridor led to a door behind the hotel, facing the forest rather than the lake, and as Harry and Severus stepped closer to the door and the near-darkness outside, Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"Now we can hide behind a tree, Apparate to our room, and..."
"Oi! Harry!" Harry hadn't thought he had managed to eat enough dinner to feel sick to his stomach, yet there was that familiar churning feeling. "What are you doing here, mate?"
"Ron?" he asked feebly, wondering if it was too late to create a Time Turner and take himself and Severus back in time. They would only need an hour -- enough time to laugh loudly in the face of the hotel staff member who had invited them down to dinner, enough time to slip into bed and --
Harry's pleasant fantasy was interrupted by another voice. A feminine voice.
"Harry?"
"Hermione?" Harry said weakly, staggering back against Severus's chest.
"Of course," Severus murmured in Harry's ear. "What would a honeymoon be without your best friends? Both of them."
"This is not my fault!" protested Harry, as both Ron and Hermione popped up from behind one of the kitchen islands. Hermione had a smudge of dirt across her cheek and Ron's hair was plastered against his forehead as if he'd been sweating.
"What are you --" Harry began, then shook his head with a groan. "Never mind, I don't want to know."
"Lovely seeing you, I'm sure," Severus said, placing both hands on Harry's shoulder in an attempt to hustle past them. "But we need to, ah --" One hand squeezed Harry's shoulder in desperation.
"To, ah, go out to the lake and, um --" Harry tried, trying to think of something urgent enough to get them out of there. A loud crash sounded beyond the swinging doors that separated the kitchen from the dining room.
"Collect, er --" Severus tried but he too, stopped, peering curiously at Ron and Hermione, who each had their wands drawn and were looking past them in concern. There was the unmistakable sound of a curse bouncing off something fairly solid -- the panelled dining room wall, no doubt.
"You haven't seen a Venomous Tentacula on the loose, have you?" Hermione asked, rubbing the cheek with the smudge on it and only succeeding in spreading it further. "Rather a large one?"
"We were supposed to be minding it," admitted Ron, "but we got, er, distracted." Hermione cleared her throat loudly, casting Ron a glare that did not bode well for his chances of picking up where they'd left off when they recaptured the poisonous plant.
Plant?
"As it happens," Severus said, taking several steps to one side, leaving the aisle between themselves and the dining room more invitingly open, "We have seen a rather large, decidedly poisonous plant wandering around the dining room."
Ron looked relieved, but Hermione looked stricken. "The dining room? Oh no, we'll have to get it back into its pot immediately before it eats anything else. They only get bigger if you feed them." She put on her determined face, which Harry remembered being on the receiving end of when they were at school and had no desire to be reacquainted with. "You and the professor can cover us while we go after it," she said, in a tone to go along with her determined face.
"Actually we have to go down to the lake to collect those, er," Severus put in smoothly, his fingers still on Harry's shoulders, edging them over just a bit more. There was a noise behind them, really close to the doors this time, and Harry couldn't decide if it was a curse rebounding off someone or something.
"Samples!" Harry said, turning sideways to give Ron and Hermione a better vantage point of the doors. "Of, um --"
"Things we need," put in Severus smoothly and Harry hoped his friends were actually as distracted as they looked.
"If you spot any scented pelargoniums..." began Hermione, already striding toward the hotel. Ron glanced from her to Harry, looking rather suspicious, but he didn't speak.
"Of course," Harry said as firmly as he could with Severus applying pressure to his shoulders to march him down the hill around the trees. "Good luck with the venomous tentacle thing!"
"Tentacula," muttered Severus under his breath, practically shoving Harry out the door and toward the lake. "What wizard would be foolish enough to bring a Venomous Tentacula to a Muggle luxury hotel?"
Harry recalled that the seeds of the Venomous Tentacula were Class C non-tradeable items. "Maybe someone making a deal to sell one where nobody from the Ministry would be likely to notice," he mused, hoping it wasn't George Weasley working on something new for his shop. On the other hand, it might just as easily have been Lucius Malfoy trying to rid himself of an enemy. Or it could simply have been Neville carrying on an herbology experiment, though Harry didn't think Neville would have been foolish enough to bring a dangerous plant to a Muggle luxury hotel when Neville had said that he was visiting with a...friend.
Severus was taking long strides past the bushes that bordered the hotel gardens. "There are certainly enough wizards here to solve the problem without us. I suggest that we rent a boat and run away before anything else goes wrong. We can send for our luggage tomorrow."
Without being able to see Severus's face, Harry couldn't tell whether or not he was joking. "It's already night," he pointed out. "I think we should find a nice tree to hide behind and Apparate to our room. In the morning, it'll be much easier to..."
"OW! Watch where you're going!" shouted a voice from the base of the bushes they were circling. In the dim light, Harry hadn't even noticed that there were people on the ground, half-hidden by the blanket partially covering them. Now that he was looking, however, he could not fail to notice two things. One was that the couple in question was half-undressed. The other was that the couple in question consisted of...
"Horace," rumbled Severus. "And Pomona. How charming to see so much of you." A spell shot out of his wand, enlarging the blanket to three times its previous size.
Professor Slughorn gave up trying to hide himself behind Professor Sprout and instead tugged the newly enormous blanket over them both. "Is that you, Severus? What do you mean by sneaking up on people like that!"
"We were attempting to sneak away from people," Severus growled, making Slughorn shrink back visibly. "And what do you mean by..." He started to gesture at the blanket, appeared to think better of it, and waved his hand in the air. "Never mind. Though the next time you bring a dangerous plant on holiday with you, you might wish to pay more attention to it."
"Dangerous plant? I'm sure I don't know what you mean!" announced Sprout, though without her hat or most of the rest of her clothing, she did not create a very intimidating presence. "I brought nothing with me but the clothes on my back..." Severus glanced pointedly at the stockings and robes tossed haphazardly over the branches of the bushes. "Any dangerous plant here is no responsibility of mine!"
Trying not to look as traumatized as he felt, Harry averted his eyes while Professor Sprout drew the blanket around her legs...and other things. The slight movement must have alerted Slughorn to his presence. His great booming voice rang out, "Harry, my boy!"
"Er, good to see you, sir," Harry said, nodding politely to the now blushing Sprout.
"Horace, you don't know what they're talking about, do you?" Sprout demanded, huffing into an entirely too small portion of the blanket.
"Of course not, m'dear," Slughorn said, but Harry noticed he wasn't meeting her eyes. Or Harry's either, when he tried to look around Severus's shoulder.
Apparently Professor Sprout noticed something too. "Severus, what sort of plant did you say it was?" she asked, her suspicion making her less careful about keeping the blanket in place. All three men made strangled sort of noises.
"A Venomous Tentacula," Severus said carefully. Harry noticed he'd deliberately put himself between Harry and Sprout as if trying to protect him from --
"Venomous --" Sprout repeated, her normally rosy cheeks turning quite dangerously red, even in the dimness of the evening light.
"Tentacula," repeated Severus, backing away slowly. Harry had no choice but to follow.
"But Pumpkin, you know I would never --"
"Then where did all those seeds go, and why did you insist on coming here?" Sprout countered. Harry had to admit, for a short woman, she had a powerful set of lungs. "And dragging me through all these bushes. Soil samples, indeed!"
"I hope she remembers to keep that blanket --"
A shriek from down the path where they'd left Slughorn and Sprout sent them scurrying back up. Unfortunately this brought them closer to the still-open door to the kitchen.
"Let's try a different path," Harry said, listening briefly near the door. There was a sound like tinkling glass that did not bode well for the hotel's collection of fine stemware.
"Harry," Severus said, pulling him into the shadows lingering beside the hotel wall. "I think there might be something larger going on here."