THE POTIONS APPRENTICE

Hermione stood with her fingers crossed, a fluttering feeling in her throat. She swallowed. The moths fluttering in her throat morphed into a tennis ball. For a second it disappeared as she was elbowed in the chest. She gasped in pain.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" She snapped, unable to figure out who the perpetrator was amongst the sea of heads and arms and shoulders.

She huffed and ran a frazzled hand through her frizzy curls. Despite the years of effort attempting beauty spells to calm the unruly locks, no one spell had done the trick. It took hours of handy charm work to even ruffle the tight coils.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to please step away from the board," The stern gaze of Professor Esquivel quelled the impatient movement of the crowd. Hermione's heart flew into her throat to join the tennis ball.

"Please, conduct yourselves in a professional manner. You are all of age and really, the pass list is decided. The results will not change regardless of whether you view the list now or even decades from now," Professor Esquivel continued, with what could have been amusement in her dark eyes.

Hermione sighed and obeyed, joining the line of jostling wizards and witches. The heel of her shoe tapped impatiently against the floor as she jogged her leg subconsciously.

"Now, now, Hermione," a voice chuckled near her ear, "You heard what Professor Esquivel said: the results are decided already. Stop being so damned nervous – you're freaking even me out."

Hermione scowled up at her darkly attractive classmate, "I think my feeble mind can grasp that much, Blaise. And I'm not nervous ... just a little bit anxious."

Blaise laughed again, running a hand carelessly through his dark locks, "Really, you passed. If you didn't, there's no chance that I did."

"You don't know that! Oh," Hermione dug her index fingers into her thumbs, "Don't jinx me Blaise. If I fail I'll never let you live in peace again."

"Relax, Hermione," He drawled at his one-time enemy, but now long-time friend. He massaged her shoulders gently, "You'll be top of the class again, I know it."

Hermione sighed and reluctantly caved under the magic of Blaise's hands, "Have I ever told you that you're blessed with wonderful hands?"

Blaise grinned impishly, "Not enough, no."

"That's only because you normally reserve them for your boytoys," Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend.

"Very true," Blaise licked his lips.

Hermione rolled her eyes again, "You're disgusting. AH—!"

The line had dispersed in front of them without her noticing. She hurried to the board and ran her finger along the long list of names. She stared; hard and unblinkingly, then screamed and turned and hugged Blaise fiercely, "I passed! I passed, first in the class!"

It was his turn to roll his eyes as he tugged at one of her curls, "This is only news to you, 'Mione. Now how about you let go of me and let me check if I'll be allowed to leave these hallowed halls or if I'm stuck here for yet another year in Professor Obelisk's class."

Hermione reluctantly let go of her friend and mentally danced a jig. She'd passed! Now, assuming all her applications had gone well, she'd be a potions apprentice!

"Oh," Blaise said sadly, pulling on a forelock. He sighed, his lips pursing into a half-hearted smile. He rubbed the toe of his oxford against the floor, the picture of despair.

Hermione stood stock still and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Oh no, Blaise ... You know you can argue with them get them to give you a few more marks here and –"

"Psyche!" Blaise's white teeth flashed against his chocolate skin, "Only kidding. You didn't think I spent all that time in my room sleeping around or wanking off, did you?"

Hermione scowled and punched his shoulder, "You're ridiculous. That's the last time I'm ever going to give a damn about your welfare."

"Merlin, Hermione, don't be such a spoilsport. We've both passed, we're both sexy, vivacious people, and clearly in the prime of our lives ready to take over the world!" Blaise declared loudly, the two of them shoving past the rest of the bustling line.

"Hey shut up! Some of us haven't gotten our scores back yet!"

"Fuck you too, Marrow!" Blaise replied cheerfully.

The two of them turned down a corridor filled with students that either looked dumbfounded, resolute, or ecstatic. As they walked through a courtyard filled with magnolia trees in bloom, they were ambushed by a blur of periwinkle blue.

"How'd it go? Did you pass?"

"Obviously," Blaise drawled at the strawberry blonde beaming at the two of them.

"Good on you! I'm so proud of you, Hermione!" Alicia wrapped her arms around her long-time mate and lowerclassman, "I knew you'd do brilliantly. First in the class?"

Hermione nodded sheepishly, "Yes. Thank you for coming, Alicia."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Alicia smiled down at Hermione, "Besides, St. M's been pretty relaxed lately. Good thing after that long period after Christmas. Too many husbands coming in with inflated heads and tools stuck in their faces."

Hermione grimaced at the description, "Sounds just lovely. I can't imagine ever working in St. Mungo's."

Alicia raised an eyebrow, "Oh it's really pretty decent most days. Wasn't your major in advanced healing brews? I'd always thought that you were going to work at St. M's some day."

"Yes," Hermione replied evasively, "But I'd applied earlier and I didn't see any open supervisors. I wouldn't be able to do a decent apprenticeship without an experienced potions master."

"True," Alicia's face fell slightly. She'd been hoping to see her younger friend installed in the hospital, "Ah well, how about you, Blaise? How'd the potions bar treat you?"

Blaise grinned raucously at her from his perch on the courtyard fountain, "Oh you know, the typical. I somehow managed to scrape by yet again. It seems that Lady Luck is rather enamoured with me."

Hermione snorted, "The arse passed second in the year."

"Congratulations, Blaise. That's wonderful," Alicia smiled at him, "What are you going to be doing next year? Have you heard back from the places you applied yet?"

"Oh I think I'll travel for a bit," Blaise shrugged, "It seems my mother has her eyes set on a French mogul in the charms patenting industry, so it'll be good to get out of the country for a bit. Besides, I might just take up Draco's offer to help out with his business in America for a while."

"What?" Hermione said in dismay, "I thought you were only joking about that. Malfoy doesn't need you right now – no offence, he's got loads of professionals at his disposal."

Blaise shrugged, "It sounds pretty tempting right now, to be honest. And I'll be getting a good chunk of the profit. Draco's being terribly generous. If he wants to throw around galleons to his old friends, I'm willing to accept it."

Hermione bit back a retort, remembering rather belatedly that Alicia was there. She swallowed, "Well, just give it some thought first. I don't want to lose my best friend so easily."

Blaise raised his eyebrows, "I thought that title was reserved for Potter and Weasley."

Hermione sniffed, her lips drawing into a thin line as she purposely ignored the mention of Ron, "Harry, of course. But you're my best friend too, Blaise. It's been a long four years."

"Well, I don't know whether to blush or to beam and proclaim my joy to the world," Blaise chuckled, in truth feeling more touched than he was willing to reveal.

"Four o'clock, four o'clock, four o'clock."

Hermione and Blaise jumped at the abrupt and irritating noise. They looked at Alicia, who was blushing fiercely. She glanced at her wrist and tapped the watch that was squealing and pulsing in psychedelic colours. When it refused to shut up, she scowled and stuffed it into her purse, the tinny voice of the watch continuing to call the hour.

"Sorry about that," she smiled sheepishly, "Bloody joke watch from George won't shut up for at least another 20 minutes. Anyways, I'd better get back to the flat before George gets home. Last time he tried to make dinner, the Ministry had to stop by to obliviate the neighbours."

"Somehow I don't find that surprising," Hermione smiled and hugged her fiercely, "Don't be a stranger. I'll owl you as soon as I get settled into my post."

"You'd better," Alicia said mock-menacingly. She turned and gave Blaise a quick peck on the cheek, "See you at commencement, and behave yourself."

Blaise grinned wickedly at Alicia and grabbed her around the waist, bending her backward, "I'll try my best, beautiful. Give my compliments to Weasley on his stunning new girlfriend."

Alicia laughed and fluttered her fingers before apparating from the grounds.

"Well," Blaise flashed his teeth at Hermione, "Are you ready to get knackered on firewhisky?"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly, "Don't think I'm going to let you off so easily from this Malfoy business."

"Look, 'Mione," Blaise said exasperatedly, "We've discussed this before. I really want to do some work abroad, and I'm not sure I want to settle down and complete my potions apprenticeship just yet. Can we talk about this later? I want to get hammered, and I want to be hammered now. I think I deserve it after surviving Obelisk."

Hermione sighed, then acquiesced finally, steering the conversation out of dire waters, "Professor Obelisk was nothing compared to Professor Snape back at Hogwarts."

Blaise chuckled, "That nasty old git? True, but at least we got some laughs out of it."

"Maybe you Slytherins did. We Gryffindors barely managed to escape unscathed," Hermione huffed in annoyance as she recalled the greasy-haired git that had called her no end of derogatory names. However, despite his unorthodox behaviour, she grudgingly respected him for raising the bar high and allowing her to skip through her first year with nary a problem.

"Whatever," Blaise shrugged, pulling a fag from the box he kept handy in his back pocket. He lit it with his wand and inhaled deeply, "Time to get knackered?"

Hermione shook her head at his Dionysian behaviour, "I suppose so. Grindylow's again?"

"Obviously," Blaise raised an eyebrow pertly, "That's where all the most delightful blokes flock to."

Hermione laughed, "You're incorrigible, Blaise."

"Don't you know it," Blaise chuckled back, slinging his arm over her shoulder as they walked towards the entrance of the school, "Now how's about we apparate back to our flat and get ready to go out?"

"Fine, fine fine," Hermione laughed in exasperation, "But you know it's only 4. Don't you think it's a little too early to break out the booze?"

"Not even," Blaise said, wagging his finger at her, "It's never too early to get your party on."

Hermione chuckled again, "Oh dear. Let me just swing by the owlery to check my post. I'll see you in 10?"

"Sure, sure, but if you're late I won't wait before I crack open the firewhisky," Blaise smiled and pulled her into a quick hug before blurting, "Merlin, I'm so relieved we passed!"

Hermione laughed and barely had the chance to reciprocate the hug before he disapparated.

"Silly git," Hermione muttered to herself in amusement as she clambered up the stone staircase winding its way to the owlery.

She sighed and blew a stray curl out of her eyes as she opened the wooden door leading into the post-sorting chamber behind the owlery. Her hands plunged into the dimly lit box labelled Hermione Jane Granger and pulled out a handful of letters and a hefty package. She looked up to see if anyone else was in the room before perching on a stool the house elves had left unattended by the window.

She ruffled through the post and scowled as she flipped through adverts for Lavender's Beauty Supplies, but laughed at the blaring orange pamphlet for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. She was glad that George and Fred were doing so well with their company. She left the package for last, anxious and expectant to see how her applications had fared. Her hands faltered when her fingers met a thick white card with golden loopy font. She flipped it over hesitantly, suddenly feeling detached from her body. Her fingers ran across the embossed letters subconsciously as her heart shuddered to a stop.

'Miss Hermione Jane Granger,

You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley and Miss Hannah Mattie Abbott on the 18th of May at The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon. Please RSVP with your reply as soon as possible.

We look forward to your presence,

Ron and Hannah'

Hermione's chest heaved with pent-up emotion as she scanned the letter a second time. Finally, she shoved the small card to the bottom of her pile, fingers shaking all the while. She didn't want to think about this. Not yet. Hot tears squeezed out from her eyes, spilling to the floor as she wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back against the wall, a volley of sobs tearing at her throat.

Why does Ron always need to ruin the best days of my life?