GIFT: Sleeping Beauty (PG-13), for eeyore9990

[snuna_xchng_mod]

Title: Sleeping Beauty
Author: shiv5468
Beta Reader: scatteredlogic
Recipient: eeyore9990
Rating: PG-13
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): None.
Recipient's Prompt: Disney princess fic--with a twist. Snape is the princess and Luna is the dashing hero. Bonus for Snape being bothered by twittering birds and singing mice. :D (Prompt One.)
Summary: Some day your dreams may just come true. Just hope they haven't been choreographed by Walt.



"What do women see in these things?" Severus asked, waving a book at Hermione.

She flicked a glance at him then shrugged. "No point asking me. I'm a harpy, a termagant, and a stuck-up know it all, what would I know about Romance."

Hermione managed to put into one word all the hatred and contempt usually reserved for Death Eater or Mudblood. Severus made the obvious deduction.

"Have you argued with Weasley again?"

"When do we stop?" she asked wearily, and pushed her hair back from her forehead to mop at the sweat before it could drop into the potion. "Though this time looks to be more permanent."

"Oh. Good."

"Tactful as ever."

Severus shrugged. He'd never claimed to be tactful, or romantic, or any of a thousand things other than grumpy and irritable, and if people were continually disappointed by his failure to achieve those things? Well, it was their problem and not his.

He turned the book over in his hand and stared at the cover. There was a picture of a young lady with very transparent robes that did nothing to keep out the cold, and cold it was judging by the way the branches on the tree behind her were shown to rise and fall. Presumably this was why she was pressed up against a man with a shirt open to his waist to show his well-developed pectorals.

Severus sniffed. They'd both catch their death of colds and spend weeks taking Pepper-Up and having runny noses. There was nothing romantic about that.

Hermione gave the potion one last stir, patted the cauldron affectionately, then flopped down on the chair opposite him. "So, what's up, and why are you reading that dreadful book?"

"They're thinking of making a charm to replicate this ...experience for viewers, and I have been directed to come up with the necessary charm work."

"Like the Daydream charms?"

"I'm sure that any similarity between this project and the Weasley Daydream Charms is wholly coincidental," Severus said piously. "And could be demonstrated at length by the Malfoy family lawyers."

"I bet." Hermione snorted. "I suppose there will be a market for this?"

"Apparently. Extensive market research has shown that not only do young women want to read this kind of pap, but silly boys as well, dreaming of being heroes."

"Ah." Hermione and Severus shared a long look that communicated volumes on the issue of heroism. And market research, for that matter. "Could be worse, I suppose."

"How?"

"Muggles have this thing called paranormal romance - sex with vampires and werewolves and elves..."

Severus stared at her in horror. "Sex? With house-elves?"

"Ooh no, tall blonds with long hair and pointy ears." Hermione stared off into the middle distance.

"Sex with Malfoys? Overrated in my opinion." Aware that Hermione was staring at him with considerable interest, he added, "I'm testing the charms out tomorrow. You're welcome to watch."

She wasn't distracted. "Lucius?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, and he regretted teaching her that little trick.

"Cissa," he said. "Once. And I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough." Hermione grinned. "I don't want to pry. It's just, I wouldn't want to poach on your territory," she added with a studied air of nonchalance.

Severus blinked as he worked out the implications of that. He really wasn't one who had any right to comment on anyone else's love life, not when his was in such a mess, but....

"Have you been reading that ridiculous series Skeeter wrote about Death Eaters, the one with the graphic tales of initiation ceremonies?" he asked.

Hermione coughed and eyed the ceiling.

"You do know that Lucius is behind their publication?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said. "It was Luna's idea really. She wanted something that would make you and Draco more socially acceptable, shall we say. We were thinking of donations to charity and supporting orphans, she came up with that. She has a vivid imagination."

"So that's who I have to blame for my sudden popularity. I must remember to thank her appropriately."

"At least you aren't being spat on in the street anymore."

"I'm just getting my bottom pinched in the street."

"Really? Good Lord." Hermione thought for a moment. "Maybe we should see if there's any interest in a matching Order of the Phoenix series? See if we can drum up a bit of interest. None of us are precisely doing well in the romance department."

"That sort of thing, well, it's not real," he said quietly and then opened the book again, turning to page 124 to see if he could glean any more information on the working of the female mind. It was clear that it worked on very different lines to the normal, sane, male one, even in the case of someone as ostensibly sensible as Hermione.

"I thought you'd finished the charm work for that, if you're going to test it tomorrow," Hermione said, changing the subject gracefully.

"I had. Now I'm trying to work out what sort of scenario to use as the basis for the experience."

"Oh, that's simple, surely. Boy meets girl, girl meets boy. She gets kidnapped or socially ostracised through no fault of her own, just because she's so wonderful and everyone is jealous, and the hero rescues her. They kiss, and then, depending on how detailed you want to be, perhaps retire to bed and have a nice bout of asterisks, the end."

"That seems a little prescriptive. I was working on a way to allow the dreamer to pick their own scenario. Herrin's Arithmantic progression, perhaps?"

"Ooooh, that might work." Hermione nodded. "Particularly if you couple it with Hawkney's Cerebral Epitome."

They batted ideas backwards and forwards, reducing several hours of research into ten minutes conversation and some scribbled notes on the back of an envelope.

"I really think you ought to be there for the testing tomorrow," he said.

"Mmm?"

"Lucius is coming."

Hermione shot him a hard, long look, then smiled. "Luna is coming in for lunch next Friday; perhaps you'd like to be there. We could celebrate your success. She'll be impressed by the spellcraft, if not the selling of the clichés. She's not conventionally romantic."

Severus looked at the book. "Ah," he said, and put it down.

Severus' own lab was larger than Hermione's as befitted the more senior magical practitioner. There was a wider range of brewing equipment, even though his recent work had tended more to charms and foolish wand-waving.

The lab felt very crowded with the small group of people gathered there to watch the demonstration: Hermione, Lucius, a small grey man who hadn't introduced himself but who was clearly the accountant, a vampire who made no attempt to hide his fangs in polite society who Severus knew to be the family lawyer, and the red-headed figure of Ronald Weasley.

"What is he doing here?" Severus asked.

"Mr Weasley wishes to lodge a complaint about infringement of copyright. Some strange Muggle concept." Lucius waved his hand airily, managing to convey in that gesture his dislike of change and his opinion of Muggles and Weasleys as unworthy agents of change. "He wishes to observe the testing to ensure that we are not infringing his rights."

If Lucius' hands indicated dismissal of Weasleys, his smile indicated quite how many rights he would like to violate, and how.

"You know you got Hermione to steal our ideas," Ronald muttered. "Because she fancies Snape."

"This is news to me," Severus replied.

"And me. I've worked with him for six months. I don't see how anyone could fancy Severus after that. He steals ingredients, he messes up my lab, and he gloats when he's right and doesn't admit when he's wrong. I'd as soon kiss an elf," Hermione said, crossing her arms and glaring at Ron.

"And you're bossy and annoying and the best assistant I've ever had, but I'd as soon kiss an elf too," Severus returned. "Sooner."

"If we could move on from this touching declaration to the demonstration...," Lucius said. "We could remove the awkward pebble in the shoe of life from these premises."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Malfoy," Ron sneered. "Got something to hide?"

"Well, yes, but my conscience is clear in this. It's just the lawyer; he charges by the hour."

"Actually, in ten minute increments, sir," the lawyer put in. "It's a Muggle idea."

Lucius twitched. "Indeed. Shall we press on?"

Severus drew his wand and began the incantation. A delicate mauve haze, nothing more than window dressing to make the whole thing look more impressive, formed in the centre of the room. It swirled and eddied in an invisible wind, then curled out to wrap round the ankles of the people in the room.

"What are you doing?" Ron said, voice gruff.

"You'll note, gentleman, that Mr Weasley appears unfamiliar with the spell?" Lucius said.

The accountant nodded, and the lawyer took out a pad and an elegant quill to scrawl something across the paper.

The mist wreathed round the parties' legs, climbed higher, then sent out tendrils up along faces, probing into mouth, nose and eyes. Severus watched as first one, then another person's head fell back, with a faint smile on their face. Hermione looked less stressed. Lucius looked ten years younger.

And the vampire's fangs looked just that little bit sharper.

Severus eased back on the charm, allowing it to fade away, then cancelled it.

Lucius shook himself free first, the others following shortly afterwards.

"Now, that is a charm that will sell and sell," Lucius said softly.

"And it's a Weasley invention," Ron snapped.

"Oh, pish," Hermione said, and turned away from the group to pick something up from the desk behind.

It seemed to be the last straw for the erratic young man, who drew his wand and shouted, "If you like it so much, you can stay there!" He cast smoothly and swiftly just as Lucius stepped forward to block him. A purple light outlined Lucius, but his body only half-blocked the rest of the charm which continued on to its intended target.

Severus had time to swear once, and then the pair of them slumped to the floor.

There was silence, a horrified moment of quiet in which no one spoke because no one could think of what to say, and then everyone babbled at once.

"What have you done?" Hermione said. "You stupid, stupid, sodding man."

"Shit," said Ron, and went white. "I don't know."

"You don't know? You used a spell, and you don't know what it does?" Hermione bent over Severus and checked his pulse, then Lucius'.

"I know what it does; I'm not stupid."

"Well, all the evidence is against you there." Hermione drew her wand, then hesitated. "Is Ennervate going to be a good idea or a bad one?"

"It won't make any difference. It's a true love daydream. I thought you and Snape... so if I sent you off together to have your true love daydream together it'd be..." Ron ground to a halt.

"I'm not even going to bother explaining to you once more that there is nothing between me and Snape, and I can't even begin to see how putting us both in the same daydream would count as revenge if that is what you thought, but what the hell do you think happens when you put those two together in a true love day dream? If they don't fancy each other, what will they dream of?"

"World domination?" suggested the lawyer, then shut up when Hermione glared at him.

"I think the only thing they'll have in common," Ron said gloomily, "is wanting to kill me."

"Ok, you'd better tell me what this spell does, and in detail so I can work out what to do to sort it out. As usual. And you wonder why I don't want to be your girlfriend."

The explanation didn't help matters: an experience which would only end when the two people in it realised their love for each other and affirmed it, which was rather more romantic than Hermione had ever suspected of Ron.

And then he'd coughed and shuffled his feet and admitted that the affirmation tended rather more to the physical than the emotional, and that practical affection was a workable substitute for true love.

The only difficulty was the small fact that Severus didn't fancy Lucius and Lucius, presumably, didn't fancy Severus so the chances of them randomly deciding that they should snog each other senseless as a means of escape were slim.

"Someone has to tell them," Hermione muttered.

"When I get out of here, I am going to kill Weasley," Snape said. "And then I am going to resurrect him just so I can do it all over again."

They were trapped in a room in a castle much like Hogwarts. The door was locked and barred and would not open, no matter how hard they had tugged on it. The room was high up in a tower, and the climb down would be risky, if not impossible.

The only furniture consisted of a large four poster bed, with floral velvet curtains, large pillows, and a red coverlet that was turned back to tempt people to use it.

They were also wandless.

Lucius kept his eyes fixed on the view through the window, his eyes watering with the effort of not laughing. "I don't think that element of the spell was intended for you."

"You don't say. And I thought pink was my colour."

Lucius swung back to look at him. "No, I think you should wear taupe."

"Is taupe even a colour?"

Lucius nodded. "So I am told."

Severus heaved a sigh, and forced himself to calm down. "Oh, go on you bastard. I know you want to laugh."

"Severus, my dear friend, I am quite capable of laughing at your foibles and idiosyncrasies. An old friend may be forgiven that, but to laugh at a time like this." He shook his head. "It would be entirely wrong."

Severus grunted, then hitched up his skirts to rearrange his undergarments which consisted of nothing but frills and lace.

"Though, if you could refrain from showing me your legs in that fashion, I would be grateful. The dragon hide boots and hairy legs don't entirely go with the tiara."

"I'm supposed to be a princess," Severus snapped back. "They all have tiaras."

"I'm sure they do."

Severus had never considered himself to be an attractive man. He could manage a sort of austere charm if pushed, but there was nothing austere about his current outfit. He would have found it enough of a strain not to wear black, his colour of choice, but ....

It wasn't so much a dress as an explosion of pink satin, and he was trapped in the middle of it. It was a sign of how bad the situation was that he was grateful that the pink was not a weak, simpering pale pink but a strong, deep pink.

"Do you think magic works here?" Severus asked.

"We could try something small; test the waters as it were."

"The dress?"

"Best not," Lucius replied. "If I get it wrong, you could end up with no clothes, and my nerves will simply not stand the shock."

"The bed cover then. I'll see if I can turn it a more pleasing shade."

"Green, perhaps?"

Severus shrugged off the implication that he was predictable, and cast wordlessly. The cover shimmered, resisting the charm. Green colour started at one corner, and crept its way across the bedspread. Sweat rolled from Severus' brow with the effort of holding the spell.

"Not bad," Lucius observed.

"I don't think I can hold it though," Severus said through gritted teeth. He released the spell, and the coverlet faded back to its original colour. "Bugger."

"I think this means we might be stuck." Lucius sat down on the edge of the bed, and bounced on it a couple of times. "Unless you want to see if a kiss can free us?"

"Piss off," Severus said.

"I don't think that Princesses swear," Lucius said, and arranged himself on the coverlet to await rescue.

"Just call me Princess Sweary of Bastard." Severus smirked. "Her Royal Highness Sweary of Bastard to you, you commoner."

Lucius laid back on the bed and contemplated the underside of the bed curtains. "I think the tiara has gone to your head."

Severus sat down in a hurry. "Really? You don't think this thing is going to affect my mind, do you?"

"No, you've always been this stroppy. Really, it's nothing regal at all, Princess Sweary."

Hermione settled the two men in truckle beds in a cubby hole that they'd set up in case they needed to stay up all night watching a potion.

It took Hermione ten minutes to reverse engineer the charm that Ron had used, and another twenty to work out how to break the damned thing.

What she needed was someone who liked Snape. Like that liked him, and not just tolerated him for his secret biscuit stash and line in cheap insults.

She sat there, staring into the distance, and ran through the list of women that he knew and could feel a fondness for him. For one horrid moment it occurred to her that she would have to explain the whole business to Narcissa Black and have her slip into the spell to save Snape (and possibly Lucius in some bizarre two for one arrangement). But he hadn't seemed keen to repeat that mistake, and he was such an awkward sod that he was capable of cutting off his nose to spite his face. It was best to trust to the nascent, developing Thing he had going with Luna, or would have going with Luna if he wasn't so painfully shy, and she wasn't so damned odd.

She summoned her Patronus and prepared to test her theory.

"What story do you think the Idiot used?" Lucius asked. "Do you think we should just sit here and wait to be rescued, or are there tasks we should be undertaking? Something to prove our mettle."

"I'm a Princess. My only role is to sit here and wait to be rescued. My role is essentially passive, and don't snigger at that or I will dose your wine with poison the first chance I get."

"Shouldn't you be spinning hair into gold or something?"

"That's straw, unless you're volunteering your hair?"

"Over your cold, dead body," Lucius said evenly, and Severus grinned.

It was true that suffering shared was suffering halved, but only when you managed to make sure the other person was suffering more than you. It wasn't so much sharing, as donating.

"What you're supposed to do with hair is weave it into rope so your swain can climb up it to rescue you," Severus added, with the superior knowledge afforded a man who had been read Muggle fairy stories by his mother instead of palmed off onto a house-elf nanny. "Yours is long enough."

"That's just stupid. Why doesn't the Princess climb down and rescue herself?"

"I don't think the purpose is to get rescued, but to get laid."

"I've always found an invitation to dinner works wonders in that direction." Lucius shifted on the bed. "I shouldn't have mentioned dinner. I'm starving."

Hermione barely had time to check her arithmantic equations twice over before Luna arrived. It was the most animated and undreamy she had ever seen Luna - her radish earrings were practically swinging in agitation.

"Hello, Ronald," she said.

"What's she doing here?" Ron asked, glance flickering between Hermione and Luna.

"I'm going to rescue Severus, of course," Luna said. "Do you have wrackspurts again? Because you should really have known that. I worry about you, sometimes."

"I worry about him all the time," Hermione muttered. "I think I've got this right. If I haven't, the worst that will happen is that you'll have some very interesting dreams for the next twelve hours and then we have to try again."

"Ok," Luna said.

"You're going to get Snape. You? But I thought..."

"I don't know what you'll find in there," Hermione said. "It's a combination of his idea of romance, and Snape's ideas, and god knows what bastard child that will create. Be careful."

Luna smiled at Ron. "I'm sure it'll be very nice in there." She sat down next to Severus, arranged herself comfortably on a pillow, took his hand and nodded at Hermione. "I'm ready."

Hermione cast. The spell was nowhere near as dramatic as Snape's version. No purple mist, no sparkling lights, just a simple change from conscious to unconscious Luna.

"I hope this is going to work," Hermione said.

"You've never made a mistake yet," Ron said.

"Snape is one of the most closed-off men I know. Have you any idea what his mind is going to be like, what she's going to have to fight her way through to get to him?"

Ron swallowed. "Oh shit."

The landscape Luna appeared in was more pleasant than Hermione had supposed. There was a forest, but it wasn't dark and gloomy. There was a castle, far in the distance, but it didn't loom or look like the haunt of vampires and demons. It was normal, English countryside, apart from the fact it wasn't raining, and Luna wasn't ankle deep in mud.

She was wearing someone's idea of armour, someone who had never had to use armour: impractical, glossy, and cumbersome.

"This will never do," she said. "You can't seduce a man dressed up like an iron pot."

She stripped off the armour, piece by piece, piling it up neatly to one side, then placed the sharp sword on top of it. "There," she said. "You just stay there in case someone comes along who needs to deal with a dragon, or something, or not a dragon really as they're quite nice once you get to know them. Something dangerous, or a piece of string that needs cutting."

She looked up at the castle, and took a deep breath. "Right, then. I'm ready now."

"You had to mention being hungry, didn't you?" Severus said.

"The spell won't let us starve." Lucius stood up, and walked to the door again, tugging at the handle. "We need food. You can't be rescued if you have died of hunger first."

The door didn't budge.

"It'll be invisible servants," Severus said. "That's traditional. Just be grateful it's not singing mice or something. Most unsanitary."

"Invisible servants sound a lot like house-elves, then." Lucius shrugged. "I want food," he said addressing empty air. "Now."

The invisible servants failed to deliver anything.

"Perhaps it will only respond to you, your Highness," Lucius said, and smirked.

"I want food now," Severus said, mimicking Lucius' aristocratic tones perfectly.

Whatever choice insult Lucius intended to direct at him was stifled as a plate of food and a glass of wine appeared on a table.

"For two," Severus said. There was a grudging silence. "My rescuer will need some refreshment. It's only polite that I should offer him some."

Another plate appeared, and a second glass with a decanter of wine.

"Oho, this spell leaves nothing to chance," Lucius crowed. "Alcohol to weaken your rescuer's defences."

"Or mine."

They took their places at the table and set to with a will. It might only be imaginary food, but it filled their imaginary stomachs quite nicely, and the wine stimulated their imaginary taste buds more than nicely.

"So what sort of rescuer are you hoping for," Lucius said, once the last morsel of food had been mopped up. "Young? Blond, perhaps?"

Mellowed by wine, Severus contemplated telling the truth. Lucius already had some idea, by the sounds of thing. "Someone kind, and patient. Someone reliable. Someone ... a catalyst, I suppose, who can change both herself and me and still stay the same. A touchstone."

"I don't know why anyone thinks you're not romantic," Lucius replied.

Severus gave him a hard look, but there was no mockery in his voice. Even a strange sort of respect.

"Your faith is ... touching." Lucius swallowed the last of the wine. "Now, time is getting on. Are you sure there's nothing you should be doing?"

"I suddenly feel very sleepy. I wonder if ... Sleeping Beauty?" Severus yawned. "When you factor in Weasley's facile mind, it's a likely scenario." He breathed into his hand and sniffed at it. "An after dinner mint would really help here."

There was a path winding between the trees, and another brighter path in the sun that appeared to lead off to the castle.

"Oh, I know you," Luna said. "You would never make it that easy."

She set off down the longer route with a confident stride.

Severus' eyes rolled back in his head. He would have fallen to the floor if Lucius hadn't steadied him.

"Bedtime for you, I think," Lucius said.

"Sleepy," Severus murmured, and then feel silent.

Luna walked on into the forest, enjoying the dappled shade and cooling breeze.

"It's nice here," she said, and the trees rustled. "Nice, but a little severe. Some flowers would be nice. Nothing too showy, something elegant and restrained. White, perhaps? Or a nice, dark purple?"

The path turned sharply, and once she had turned the corner she found herself in a glade with rays of sun slanting down to highlight a stand of dark foxgloves and wild orchids, all deep purple. She stroked the velvet petals with gentle fingers. "You see, that's beautiful. A different sort of beauty."

"Very nice. Such strong, tall, erect, flowers," Luna said, and petted the flowers again. "I hope I can come back and see you again. I'll water you and feed you, and make sure you're free of wrackspurts and green fly. "

Severus whimpered in his sleep, then smiled.

Luna petted the flowers one last time, then turned to admire the glade.

"It would be nice if there was some more sun," she said."Not here, because this is perfect as it is. But a bit further on. I know how Severus feels about roses, but I don't see anything wrong with some deep, red roses. Something small and delicate but with a strong perfume. Something a potion-brewer could appreciate."

The path petered away to nothing, and her way was blocked by a row of bushes with wicked thorns that reached to shoulder height. She couldn't see past them to see whether the path continued on the other side, but the castle portcullis was directly ahead.

"These weren't the roses I was hoping for," she murmured.

The bushes shuffled as much as bushes without feet could shuffle, and tried not to look guilty at being entirely devoid of roses.

There was an awkward silence, and then a bush on the far right hand side lost its nerve, shivered, and sprouted a single rose.

"There you are, you see," Luna said. "You can do it, if you want to."

There was a long enough pause to register the bushes' opinion that yes, it could have done that all along if it had wanted, but it hadn't wanted to thank you very much, not till it was let down by its mates, and then slowly but surely they bloomed.

It was if the flora had blushed.

"I'd like to show Severus what you've done," she said. "I think he deserves a really nice rose, to show him that someone cares, don't you?"

The bush in front of her rustled then pushed out a branch to her. There was a popping sound, and a bud formed, grew and bloomed all in a few seconds. The rose was darker than all the rest, and larger too, but still on the shy side of blowsy.

"Thank you." Luna held out her hand, and the bloom fell free of its branch.

"Now, if you'd just make a path for me...."

The bushes, now thoroughly tamed, leaned away from each other, creating a narrow space through which Luna could pass.

Severus smiled, and tucked the pillow under his arm in a loving embrace.

It was only a few hundred yards to the moat, and Luna's next challenge.

The portcullis was raised, and the mouth to the castle was open before her. All she had to do was cross the moat, something that would have been made much easier with a bridge.

"Well," she said. "How shall I do this? You have to give me a clue."

A ripple of water round a stick caught her eye. The stick moved, drifting across the moat towards her. The stick developed an eye, then resolved itself into a large crocodile.

"You're a big one," she said. "I've never seen one so long as you. You've got very sharp teeth, I can see that. And those scales really catch the light."

Another eye opened, deep in the shadows of the moat, where the walls blocked the light. Then another. And another. All drifting closer and watching her with cold interest.

"Not susceptible to flattery or persuasion then. Mmmm."

One crocodile yawned ostentatiously. She wondered if they had names. Names like self-doubt, or distrust, or jealousy.

"I don't really like to do this," she said. "But I suppose that sometimes, when you're dealing with Severus, you have to be strong."

"You there, form a line with your friends, side by side, nose to tail." She pointed at the biggest crocodile. "NOW!"

They arranged themselves into a crocodile raft, or a crocodile trap, depending on whether her luck and nerve held.

"Trust is important in a relationship," she murmured to herself. "Besides these are not real crocodiles, and these are not real legs. This is all allegorical. Does that mean you are allegoricallators? If so, I do apologise for calling you crocodiles."

The impromptu raft held, though Luna had the feeling that just one slip would see her eaten by a metaphor. The moat had never seemed so wide or so deep, but then she was over it and standing on dry land.

She looked up at the murder slits flanking the entrance, but nothing moved.

"Just one more test, I feel. And that's the last."

The castle was empty and soulless. Nothing moved or breathed, and the portraits were static. For all its apparent size, on the inside there was just one staircase leading up into the heights. She moved onto the first step, testing it for tricks and traps. There was nothing on the first flight, and as she reached the second it swung round, changing direction off to the left.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she said, and stroked the handrail. "Take me to my love."

She was deposited on a landing that led onto a corridor, at the end of which was a heavy door bolted and barred. The bolt was easy enough to shift, but the bar was heavy, and she staggered with the effort of lifting it free.

She pushed at the door, and it swung open silently.

"Mr Malfoy," she said. "I believe you are my last test."

"I don't see how," he replied. "I want you to kiss the man so we can both go home. Why would I want to stop you? Frankly, I think Severus is your last test, and one that's going to last the rest of your life, so I'd be very sure about taking him on."

"I think," she said. "I think that if you weren't here, you would have to be here and you would be my final test, but because you are here, you aren't."

Lucius blinked, considered, then said, "I see. "

Luna rather thought he did, which was surprising.

"I suppose I should be grateful not to be cast as a villain standing in the way of true love." He tilted his head. "Still. I wouldn't want Severus to be... Perhaps I should take my responsibilities more seriously then." He moved further between her and Severus, and stood tall and powerful in the room. "Why should I let you pass?"

"Because I love him?"

"You don't sound very sure," he said.

"I am very sure I love him, but I'm not sure that's the answer you're looking for."

"Love fades," he replied, obscure as any sphinx.

"Ours will not. It will grow, and change, and flower in our hearts." She held out the rose before her, and it filled the room with its perfume.

A shadow crossed the sun, making the room dark, showing Lucius in silhouette. He seemed taller, darker, stronger, and a silver mask overlaid his features then vanished. "Pass, then," he said formally accepting her token. "Pass and claim your prize."

Lucius stepped to one side, diminishing as he moved. "Don't look too closely at the outfit," he said. "He'll never forgive you."

Luna sat on the edge of the bed, and looked down on Severus' face. "I think he really wanted to be rescued for once," she said.

"Don't we all, at heart."

Luna took off the tiara, put it down on the pillow and bent her head to kiss her Prince. His lips were dry, and a little bit rough, and absolutely perfect.

The first Hermione knew about the spell being broken was when Ron suddenly remembered an errand somewhere on the other side of London. He had reason enough to be paying attention to the pair laid out on the hard beds, and he'd seen the signs of life returning to them first.

The second thing was Severus' eyes opening. Ron would have been relieved to know that his first action was not to leap to his feet demanding to know the whereabouts of the Idiot Weasley, but to reach out for Luna.

The third thing, Severus and Luna kissing as if his life depended upon it, had Hermione staring wide-eyed then turning her back on them.

"Erm, right, I'll just leave you to it then," she said.

"That sounds to me like a perfectly good idea," Lucius said. "If I could trouble you for a little help in rising from this undignified position."

His grip was strong, and his hand warm against hers, and he was still clutching the rose which he left in Hermione's hands.

She blushed.

"I think I'll give the company to Severus as a wedding gift," he said, and touched a finger to a rose petal.

"That's generous of you."

"Purely selfish, I assure you. I'm sure you wouldn't dream of going out for dinner with your employer."

"Well," she said. "You're not my employer anyway. You're the main shareholder."

"Half the company as a wedding gift then," Lucius said.

"All, or I won't ask you to be best man," Severus said, briefly surfacing for air. "Now sod off."

"As you wish, Princess Sweary of Bastard." Lucius flicked his wand in a parting gesture, and drew Hermione from the room in search of refreshment.

Luna wasn't even the slightest bit distracted when a flock of blue birds formed an orderly circle round Severus' head and started chirping out the tune to an old love song, and neither was he.