Neville glanced at Hermione and Ginny modeling various gowns in the mirror as he was fitted for his new dress robes. The aptly named and, he thought, inappropriately timed Victory Ball would take place in eight days, and Madame Malkins' had been crowded with the press of witches and wizards trying to put their best foot forward for the event. The three had managed to snag a private room and two staff members to attend their needs, so the process was going fairly smoothly. He knew that most of the men of his acquaintance would rather spend an hour in levicorpus and force fed slugs than watch women try on clothing, but he found shopping with the girls to be entertaining; their commentary was occasionally hilarious and they didn't dither about with their decision making. He admitted that he didn't know much about cut or line, but they still seemed to value his opinion as they showed him the gowns that the seamstress' assistant kept summoning into the room. They'd both opted for gowns over formal robes, neither wishing to shroud their figures with swaths of heavy material.

Flicking his eyes from Hermione, whose atrocious mauve gown had received a grimace, he sent a smile to his other shopping partner. "That one, Ginny. The color does wonderful things for your eyes."

"Neville my love, I do believe you're right." She turned to the assistant with a smile. "This is definitely the one, but it will need to be fitted. The straps are too long and the top needs tailoring. Can you help with that?"

The woman nodded and motioned toward the other platform and triple mirror in the room, gathering a set of pins and setting a tape measure to begin recording the girl's measurements.

The gown, a beautiful, shimmering sapphire blue, did wonderful things for Ginny's eyes, making them look bolder and deeper. The sweetheart neckline enhanced her admittedly meager bosom while the halter made the most of her athletic arms and creamy skin. Even better, the charmed dress had a mermaid skirt that somehow allowed her legs to move freely while still hugging her tightly down to the knee. With an approving nod, Ginny recognized that this dress would leave Harry in no doubt that his girlfriend was a woman to desire, not just a girl to love.

Neville turned to see Hermione emerge from her dressing room just as the tailor finished pinning the cuffs of his close-fitting trousers. She looked to him with a smile on her face, clearly pleased with the gown she wore. It was the color of fresh apricots and made the most of her pale complexion. The material was gauzy and soft, draping from the waist in multiple layers that became more and more sheer as the skirt approached her ankles and the gown's neckline came up high and tied behind her neck like a scarf. It left her shoulders and collarbones bare and when she spun to show to show Ginny he saw that there was almost no back to the gown - only the trails of the charmed chiffon floating down to follow her spine.

Ginny breathed a little sigh. "Hermione, if you don't buy that I'll personally hex you into oblivion. It's stunning."

Hermione's smile broadened before drooping slightly. "It covers the scar from Dolohov, but…" she gestured toward her left arm with her hand.

"Leave it." Neville said firmly. "It's a battle scar, Hermione, and nothing to be ashamed of. I know you're proud of being Muggleborn, and we're proud that you are our friend. You're a hero who fought to save those like yourself. Well, all of us really. That scar is a reminder of your strength, and of what you've saved our world from"

Hermione blinked rapidly to clear the moisture that had gathered in her eyes. "You're right, Neville. Absolutely." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before returning to her changing room to remove the gown and put her robes back on. Neville caught Ginny's eye in the mirror and saw her approving nod.

✿ HG/SS ✿

Hermione was still flushed with good humor when they flooed back to Grimmauld Place. They'd eaten in Diagon Alley, happy that they'd not asked Harry to accompany them so that they could remain largely anonymous as they dined, then spent a happy two hours (well, happy for Neville and Hermione...Ginny was thoroughly bored) in Flourish and Blotts. She had a pile of new books: several new herbology text, a new text on charms, and piles of new potions books. Her bank account was smarting, but she thought it well worth it. Even better, she'd secured a subscription to both The British Journal of Practical Brewing and The Journal of Alchemical Authority - the premier English-language scholarly publications on all things potions. With a contented sigh, she dumped her purchases on her bed and hugged her happiness to her; she couldn't be more thrilled with the sudden change in direction her life had taken.

A thick envelope and paper-wrapped package on her dresser caught her eye as she turned to head back downstairs. She recognized the maroon Hogwarts seal next to what she assumed would be Snape's sigil - a falcon in three-quarter profile with wings spread over an empty potions vial with STS carved into its side, stamped in black wax. She broke both seals with excitement and sat in the small armchair in her room to peruse its contents.

The first page of the letter was her contract, which detailed the length of her appointment (2 years with an option for renewal once Journeyman status was reached) and the details of her pay (100 gallons a month was surprisingly generous as she would be receiving food and board as well). She wouldn't be making her fortune from her apprenticeship, but she would still be able a moderate lifestyle while still saving some money for post-Mastery. Unlike a student, she would receive private accommodations in the castle, the service of a house-elf (she grimaced at that), and the ability to leave the castle in her free hours. She found these terms more than fair, so signed the contract with a flourish and set it aside to owl back to Dumbledore.

The second page was also a contract, this one with Snape alone for her brewing services to his company, B.B. Brewing Co. She wondered briefly at what the B.B. stood for before her eyebrows rose at the terms he proposed. For her work as an assistant brewer, she would receive a 1% share of net profits for each month. She wasn't sure what net profits for the company might be, but she suspected it might well be fairly lucrative. Snape had indicated that he brewed rare potions, which were extremely costly at any apothecary. He also dressed very well; his robes and boots were clearly hand made and there was no possible way for him to afford such luxuries on a teacher's pay. Even better, he'd offered her a one-year renewable contract, which afforded her the opportunity to renegotiate if she thought his terms unfair. With a nod to herself, she signed and stacked the contract on the first.

The third page included a letter from Snape himself, written in his unmistakable hand.

Dear Miss Granger,

Allow me to confer my congratulations on your acceptance of the position as Hogwarts Potions Apprentice . I look forward to extending your knowledge of our craft over the coming years and to your assistance in the classroom and laboratory.

Enclosed you will find your contracts, a list of required and recommended equipment, authorization for material and apprentice robe expenditures, and details of your accommodations when you return to Hogwarts. I have also spoken to Headmaster Dumbledore and he will arrange for you to have a private laboratory adjacent to my own, so that you might have a separate space for your research and brewing.

As I have no doubt you will be impatient to begin learning about your new specialization, I have included two tomes that serve as references throughout your time as my apprentice. You are expected by noon on July 1, by which time I expect you to be somewhat familiar with their contents. Your House Elf is Zandi; she will arrive that morning to gather your personal items for transport to your new quarters. You are expected at Madame Malkins shop within the next week to be fitted for your apprentice robes.

I will be traveling throughout June to gather potions ingredients for the coming term, but would like to meet with you before I depart to discuss further expectations for our work together. I expect you at Hogwarts for tea at 4 o'clock on May 25 for this meeting.

As ever,

S. Snape, Potions Master

Head of Slytherin House

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Hermione was surprised at the cordial tone of his letter, though she noted he'd reverted to a more formal salutation; she'd half expected a series of terse orders and begrudging acceptance of her new position. She smirked a bit at the terse tone of the missive...he'd all but ordered her to arrive for tea in two weeks time. She mentally shrugged; the war may be over, but she didn't expect Snape to entirely reform his personality.

The next three pages contained a list of specific brewing ingredients and tools for her personal lab, a suggested list of items for personal research, a list of other "apprentice" supplies such as notebooks and quills, a list of books for required reading (which included several that she'd already purchased), and a separate list of recommended reading. She had her work cut out for her, gathering this in the coming weeks. All in all, she felt like the scholarly version of Cinderella.

The final four pages were purchase authorizations: one each for Madame Malkins, Flourish and Blotts, and Slug and Jiggers Apothecaries bearing the Hogwarts seal. The final authorization was a blanket purchase authorization in her name bearing Snape's seal. She looked at that one curiously, making a mental note to ask him about it when she saw him on the 25th.

Finally, she unwrapped the package to find a box containing two books: Potions A-Z, 37th ed , which seemed to be an encyclopedic of all known potions cross referenced with an ingredients appendix, and The Brewer's Compendium a resource on techniques and potion theory for the advanced potions student. Nodding her head in approval, she set these aside. Within the box also lay another, smaller box. Within it lay a blank ring-seal in white-gold and a note, again in Snape's assertive scrawl. "It is traditional for the Master to gift the Apprentice their first seal. Right swish, upward flick. The spell is Sculperesone ." Intrigued, she pointed her wand at the ring and performed the spell. She watched as the ring shuddered and reformed, the blank metal carving itself into a personal seal ring. The ring band narrowed to suit her hand and lovely vinework appeared on the shank, mimicking the vinewood of her wand. The vines extended over the blank oval, twining around its edges. In the center of the oval a sleeping dwarf leopard appeared, its tail curled around the initials HJG and its paws folded over a scroll - the wizarding sign of the apprentice - and her Master's initials carved into its tiny seal. The cool circlet automatically sized when she placed it on her right hand.

With a smile, she summoned parchment to pen thank you notes to enclose with her contracts. She dashed off a formal note to Dumbledore, thanking him for the opportunity and expressing a desire to do the Hogwarts name proud. The second letter took a bit more time as she knew that this would be the first step to establishing her relationship with her Master. Nibbling her quill, she thought before dipping the nib into her inkwell.

Dear Master Snape,

I would like to express my appreciation for extending the opportunity to study as your apprentice. While I know the offer to begin this process came through the Headmaster as representative of Hogwarts, I believe that you would not have agreed to supervise me for a further six years had you not thought I had the potential to succeed under your tutelage. You unspoken confidence means a great deal.

I also wanted to thank you for your present. While I know that it serves as a functional gift, it is also a lovely one that I will be proud to wear. It was a particularly beautiful bit of magic to witness.

I look forward to seeing you for tea on the 25th of May and to our future work together.

Sincerely,

Hermione J. Granger

She selected a dark plum-colored wax, deliberately avoiding the color of her house in an act of symbolism that she thought would not escape either Dumbledore or Snape. The time for personal house loyalty was past; she was an apprentice and representative of the school as a whole now. She sealed both letters with her new ring, then went downstairs to borrow Hedwig.

✿ HG/SS ✿

"Ginny, what on earth is taking you two so long?" Ron whinged from outside Hermione's bedroom door. "The portkey leaves in ten minutes!"

"Shut it, Ron! We'd be done already if you weren't shouting at us through the bloody door!" Ginny shouted over her shoulder before turning back to Hermione's hair. "Honestly, I love my brother but he can be the most amazing prat."

Hermione winced as Ginny aggressively tugged another curl back into the elaborate coiffure she was styling. "Are you nearly done back there?"

"Just about. Where'd the - ah." She grabbed at the gold and citrine bandeau before carefully placing it on her head, avoiding the curls that she'd left to float around Hermione's face. With a quick charm, she fixed the entire thing in place so that even vigorous dancing wouldn't disturb her masterpiece. "Okay, you can look now."

Hermione grinned when she looked the mirror. "Ginny, you're a genius. Thank you!" She hugged her friend to her side and looked at the two of them in the mirror. Ginny's was stunning, willow-slim in her tight, jewel-toned gown, her titian tresses spelled to fall in waves over her shoulders. She had charmed her face to perfection with smokey eyes and ruby lips. Hermione stood in contrast, her gown flowy rather than structured, embracing her curves and showcasing her waist. The apricot color brought roses into her cheeks and she'd kept her makeup (applied the muggle way) subtle with peach lips and coppery eyeshadow. Ginny had styled her hair in a loose braid that trailed over one shoulder to leave her back bare.

Ginny grinned back at their reflections. "Hermione? Let's go knock 'em dead." They gathered light cloaks and made their way down the stairs in a cloud of scent and happy emotions, only to be greeted by Ron, Neville, Harry, and Draco Malfoy in their dress robes.

Draco had been a last minute addition to their party - an attempt for Harry to show support for the Malfoy family in the face of public outrage at their Ministry pardon. For once, it was not Lucius Malfoy's money and political power that freed the family, but Draco service as a spy amongst the student Death Eaters throughout the war. Lucius, whose service to Voldemort was largely coerced since his resurrection, had resigned all political posts and publicly vowed to dedicate his wealth and his service to altruistic acts.

Draco and Harry turned bright red as the ladies joined the group in the library. "Ginny, you look...I don't have words," Harry said, rushing to her side. Hermione heard him whisper, "I'm so lucky you're mine" in the young witch's ear as he fastened a corsage - off-white, no baby's breath - to her left wrist. He must have been feeling particularly gallant as he pressed a kiss to her hand before releasing it.

Draco turned to Hermione and gave her a short bow. "Granger. You clean up well." His pale skin flushed further as he cleared his throat.

She gave an impolite snort. "As do you, Draco. I'm glad you're attending with us this evening." She shoved an elbow into Harry's side; he'd been staring at Ginny's decolletage. She gestured toward a replica of the Globe Theatre sitting across the room. "Are we all ready to go?"

They gingerly gathered 'round the souvenir item, each struggling to place a finger on it without crushing their finery. Within moments if glowed blue and they each felt the familiar hook around their navel. The ball was about to begin.

✿ HG/SS ✿

They arrived not at the Ministry, as Hermione expected, but in a field of wildflowers. "Where on earth?"

Draco gently took her by the shoulders and turned her to look behind her. Behind her stood a golden marquee, backlit by the setting sun.

"Scrimgour wanted to mark the victory in a scenic location rather than political one, Granger. Though this ball is, of course, a political gesture." Draco smirked at her as the group trooped toward the fabric-draped entrance.

Once they were inside, they saw that the marquee had been magically enlarged to house a marble stair leading down to a ballroom. Cameras flashed as they passed the press-corps, who had been cordoned off to the side but for a select few allowed to roam the ball. As they descended a staircase, a Ministry official paused to announce their entrance. They were some of the last to arrive and were quickly escorted to a table near a raised dais. The early summer sun shone pink and orange through windows at the sides of the hall as it set over the hills, and golden suspended candles provided elegant lighting as the room began to dim. White flowers graced each table in crystal vases, but a single black rose sat in the center of each bouquet. The hall was all opulence and elegance. Hermione glanced at Neville and gave him a slight smile of commiseration; she knew he felt that it was too little, too late for a Ministry that had proved so ineffectual against Voldemort's megalomania, but he was putting a brave face on it.

Hermione saw Dumbledore and the rest of the Order seated at the next table and saw that they too were struggling to make conversation through their mixed feelings. Ron leaned toward Neville and whispered "do you feel like we're seated at the kid's table?" He snickered before looking thoroughly abashed to be laughing at such an affair.

As tea and after-dinner cordials were passed around by the elven waitstaff, Minister Scrimgour mounted the dais and addressed the gathered heroes and dignitaries. "My friends, welcome. We come tonight to celebrate a Victory of the Dark Lord Voldemort. We gather to thank and to mourn those who sacrificed so much for our world and our way of life. I am not a speechmaker, I am a man of action. And so I and my Ministry have chosen to take action thusly.

Will the following individuals please rise: Filius Flitwick. Hermione Granger. Neville Longbottom. Luna Lovegood. Remus Lupin. Draco Malfoy. Minerva McGonagall. Alastor Moody. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Severus Snape. Pomona Sprout. Nymphadora Tonks. Arthur Weasley. Ginerva Weasley. Molly Weasley. Ronald Weasley." He waited as each person rose. Hermione was surprised to see that Snape had attended the ball at all; he hardly looked thrilled to be present. "On behalf of the Ministry of Magic, it is with grateful thanks that I award each of you The Order of Merlin, Second Class."

The Minister cut his wand through the air, causing a small box and a scroll to appear before each recipient. "Without your service, the war would have been lost." He bowed his head and gestured for them to be seated before proceeding.

"Would Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter please rise." As they did so the Minister stepped off the dais and approached their table, handing him a scroll and a small box. "I award you, Harry Potter, with The Order of Merlin, First Class." He then proceeded to Dumbledore and extended the same honor, with the Ministry's grateful thanks.

As the crowd began to clap, Scrimgour remounted the dais and held up his hands for silence. "This is not a time for speeches, my friends. This is a time for gratitude. I ask that we now bow our heads in thanks for the service of these heroes." The entirety of the ballroom bowed their heads in silence until Scrimgour's voice rose again. "It is, however, also a time for celebration. I invite you all to join me and to join our heroes on the dance floor." At his nod, the orchestra orchestra disillusioned itself on the dais and the opening strains of a dance began.

Harry knew his cue and stood, offering his hand to Ginny. She accepted and they walked to the center of the room to begin the complex wizarding dance that Hermione had barely grasped in her fourth year. Moments later they were joined by Dumbledore and Minerva. Arthur and Molly, Remus and Tonks, and Flitwick and Sprout followed shortly thereafter. Draco and Luna rose to dance at the outskirts of the dance floor followed by - to everyone's surprise - Ron and Neville? How long had that been going on? With a sense of panic, Hermione realized that she was the only person left at her table.

Suddenly a hand with long, tapered fingers was extended before her as a deep and familiar voice asked, "Miss Granger? May I?" Gratefully she grasped the proffered hand and rose to join Snape on the dance floor.

They danced silently, keeping near the dais and allowing others to take the more public place of pride at the center of the room. She saw Draco, Luna, Neville and Ron had elected to do the same and shot a smile toward them - Neville wasn't particularly keen on the spotlight and Ron had long ago learned that being Harry Potter's best friend meant living in the shadow of The Boy Who Lived. He had made his peace with it.

She smiled at her partner and attempted to make polite conversation. "Thank you for offering to dance with me, sir."

"Severus. And it's hardly a chore, Hermione, though the rest of this infernal evening may be." He gave her a tight smile.

"Well, you look quite dashing. I don't think I've ever seen you wear something other than black." She glanced down at his grey brocade waistcoat and emerald cravat pin.

He shrugged and spun her slightly to avoid colliding with Ron. "The war is over. It was time for a change."

She smiled again, but didn't reply. Black to grey. Not much of a change.

He must have heard her thoughts because he smirked. "Albeit, slow change."

Suddenly, Hermione heard a loud bang and was pushed to the ground. Her eyes widened as an explosion of darkness assaulted her senses and she was blown back into the hard edge of the stage, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Flashes of light began to shoot through the darkness as the crowd began to scream. As the darkness lifted, Hermione saw that Draco, Luna, Ron, and Neville were clamoring to their feet with wands drawn and found that she and Snape had done the same. At the center of the hall stood at least twenty fugitive death eaters surrounded by the stunned bodies of the heroes of Voldemort's fall.