Chapter 14 "Celebration!"
"Let's all celebrate and have a good time!" -- Kool and the Gang
Hermione breathed another sigh of relief. They were over! Her N.E.W.T.s were over. Later, she'd head over to Hogsmeade with the others. She was nineteen, and it was high time she got sloshed. But first, she had to take a quick nap or she'd never even make it down the hill to Hogsmeade. Pulling off her robes, she snuggled into her bathrobe. Alcohol would never begin to have the pull on her that this one item of clothing did. If it were possible to be addicted to something you couldn't ingest, Hermione was addicted to the snuggling and comfort that her bathrobe gave her. She just tried not to think about who had given it to her.
Professor Snape had been markedly distant since their confrontation in the library. She'd stopped offering information in class and doubted he would ever call on her. It was easier to try and elude his notice. Such a path might be called cowardly, but she preferred the term prudent. They'd be working together soon enough. She saw little reason in riling him unnecessarily. Professor McGonagall had prepared private rooms for Hermione already, but she suddenly found herself unwilling to leave the overcrowded dormitory until it was necessary. Her parents should be arriving in Hogsmeade tomorrow for the afternoon graduation celebration. Hermione hadn't quite worked out how there could be a celebration without their N.E.W.T.s results, but there it was. The end of the year feast had celebrated the end of the year, but not any sort of formal graduation. Apparently, the Headmistress was trying something new. Or more likely, Hermione thought cynically, the Ministry wanted another party because that's all the event was. Family members and Ministry officials had been invited for an afternoon feast in the Great Hall. There might be a few speeches, but mostly it would be food and chatting and saying good-bye.
Lavender shook Hermione awake a few hours later to get ready for the night out. All twelve soon-to-be ex pupils gathered in the Great Hall and chatted on the walk down into the village. Hermione found herself beside Draco Malfoy. He no longer called her Mudblood. She had stopped calling him ferret. They were not exactly friends, but 'enemies' wasn't the right term anymore either. He told her he planned on working for the Ministry, and Hermione refrained from any negative comment. It was a sound decision that might help his family gain some respectability. She doubted Lucius had even done an honest day's work. It was a step in the right direction for Draco.
The Three Broomsticks wasn't too crowded, considering it was a Friday evening. But Hermione was quickly accosted by George, who insisted on buying her one drink, then another. They talked about the shop, how well it was doing. They avoided any mention of the Burrow or any of the boys. Ron, Harry, and Fred might have been absent, but George and Hermione comforted each other with wry smiles each time one of the absent loved ones would have made a comment.
It was eleven and well past student curfew when the party began to break up. George had left long ago since the shop had to open early on Saturday.
"I'm an old man now," he joked, but Hermione knew that losing Fred really had aged him.
Hermione finished up her last drink and thought about heading to the door. She was pleasantly intoxicated. Life was starting to look quite cozy and pretty, but she wasn't so far gone that she could contemplate walking back alone. She turned to Cho, who while not sober was the best of the bunch.
"Ready to head back?" Hermione asked.
"Aye, sure." Cho hiccupped, and the girls settled their bills.
Stepping out into the street, Hermione was beginning to think that perhaps two tipsy girls weren't enough. Should she have made everyone walk back together? Surely, no one would attack all twenty of them. She and Cho weren't looking very intimidating… Hermione gasped as a firm hand grabbed her.
"Whatever happened to constant vigilance, Miss Granger?" a silky voice whispered in her ear.
Hermione knew instantly that it was Professor Snape. No one else quoted Mad-Eye Moody to her. She was annoyed at the echo of her thoughts on how inadequate Cho had turned out to be as an escort. The girl hadn't even noticed that Hermione was no longer next to her.
The Grangers had always said magic was all well and good, but martial arts were superior. They had pointed out that a physical attack would be the last thing a Death Eater would expect, and Hermione had eagerly agreed to learn something new. So the summer before fifth year, Hermione had endured long hours of self-defense class. She continued to practice the moves every once in a while.
Her parents had been right. Snape wasn't at all prepared when Hermione, with a quick shift of body weight and flick of the wrist, freed herself and put him in a position of painful subjugation. He groaned as she tightened her hold on his twisted forearm.
"What was that about constant vigilance, Professor Snape?" she asked in a sweet, if slightly slurred, voice.
She let go of him and walked up the hill. He didn't need to race to catch up with her, as his strides were twice the length of her own.
"Professor McGonagall realized that she hadn't yet asked you to speak at the ceremony tomorrow. I was sent to tell you."
Hermione laughed. "All by yourself? Without a guard to make sure you didn't molest me?"
Professor Snape didn't appreciate the joke. He looked around to make sure no one had heard her accusations. The street was deserted except for the small figure of Miss Chang ahead of them.
"Miss Granger, I think you've had too much to drink."
Hermione laughed again, perhaps that last drink hadn't been wise. She seemed to have lost the clarity she'd found when Snape had attacked her. Perhaps she simply felt safe. No one would be stupid enough to mess with an ex-Death Eater. The world was starting to seem not just cozy but very funny. The idea that the Headmistress thought she could come up with a speech on such short notice while tipsy to boot! The idea of Snape dragging himself down to the village to deliver the message instead of just leaving her a note! It was silly and quite hilarious. She looked up at him, which meant that she didn't look where she was going and stumbled into a pothole. The professor caught her arm before she fell.
"Definitely too much, Miss Granger." He smirked.
As if he's never had too much. But then, who knew? Snape kept a hold of her arm to make sure she did not stumble again, and Hermione smiled up lazily at him. It was nice to have someone to see her home, so to speak. Ron had always watched out for her at parties, even when his fan club had demanded his attention.
But she'd always stopped before she'd had too much. Her parents had been with her! She couldn't get drunk out of her skull in front of them! The lectures about what could have happened to her after she had sent them away to Australia had been quite a guilt trip over the summer. Only her parents could make it sound like she was having a lark instead of saving the wizarding and Muggle worlds from ruin. She hadn't wanted to do anything to earn herself another gut-wrenching lecture. And there was always the press at those damn events! If Skeeter had ever seen her intoxicated, life would have been over. She could see the headlines. She shuddered.
"You can never have too much of a good thing." Each word was spoken slowly and distinctly as Hermione finally focused enough to reply to the man who was steering her away from a tree on her left.
Snape looked highly amused. "And just what was this good thing?"
"Ogden's, of course. I love George forever," she sputtered. "Fantastic stuff!" She grinned cheekily at him. "Do you still have some, Professor?" Only Hermione would remember titles when she couldn't remember how to walk.
Snape was horrified when she stopped suddenly. Would she need to be carried? They were halfway to the gates, but he wasn't sure he could accomplish such a feat. And what if someone saw him levitating her? He pinched his nose to halt the oncoming headache.
"Do you have any more Ogden's?" Hermione sounded quite hopeful. Snape sighed. Minerva's star pupil had just re-asked a question. She was definitely pickled.
"And if I did, why would I give it to you?"
He sneered. She sulked. He made it sound as if giving her a drink from his private stash would be tantamount to wasting it.
"Spoilsport!" She stuck her tongue out at him.
"You'll thank me tomorrow," he reassured her before chuckling.
Then something occurred to Hermione through her hazy thoughts. "You're being awfully nice," she said suspiciously.
It wasn't a sensible thing to say right after accusing him of being a wet blanket, but he wasn't acting like his usual disdainful self. He hadn't docked her points for being intoxicated or for staying out past curfew. Of course, they had been given permission for the Hogsmeade trip in the first place. But when had that stopped him before? And why he was being so patient when she was walking slowly and using him as an anchor to boot?
"Just protecting an investment," he replied.
"Investment?" Hermione stopped again and looked up at him with her big brown eyes. How was she an investment?
"Our project. I don't have time for it. You, Miss Granger, will have your work cut out for you," he answered.
"The Minister told us both to help. You can't back off now."
Snape stiffened and stopped abruptly. Hermione crashed into him accidentally as the alcohol began to hit her full force.
He sighed, exasperated. "I've taken you to visit them. I'll continue to do so. I'd be happy to discuss any theories you have. I… I have my own project that I need to focus on."
Instead of answering, Hermione just leaned against him and sighed. He made a nice pillow. She hadn't heard a word he had said. What a nice voice he had. Maybe he could read the telephone book to her. She should ask. "Professor, would you read the telephone book to me?"
He snorted. "Is it going to expedite the project?"
"What project?" She gazed dreamily up at him.
"No, Miss Granger. I won't read the telephone book."
She sighed as her pillow started moving again and grabbed his arm to steady herself. "Then just keep talking."
And he did. All the way back to the Great Hall.