CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
A rhythmic series of thuds echoed quietly around the bedchamber at the very top of Gryffindor Tower as the Head Girl stacked books into the open trunk at the foot of her bed. It was early and the sky outside the window was just beginning to glow with a pinkish-orange hue. Despite how exhausted Hermione had been upon returning from the graduation party, she had barely stayed in bed for an hour. What little sleep she had managed to acquire had been plagued by a bizarre dream in which she had desperately chased after the Hogwarts Express as it sped out of the station, her arms laden with a teetering pile of cauldrons and books. Just before the train had disappeared into the heavy fog beyond her reach, Snape had materialized out of thin air, standing on the back platform with his robes billowing out all around him and a deep sneer upon his features.
Covered in a thin sheen of perspiration, she had shaken herself awake and immediately gotten out of bed. She had replayed the dream over and over in her head as she showered and dressed but still couldn't quite decipher a meaning. The scene had been permeated with an overall sense of fear but she couldn't make out what it had been a fear of exactly. Had she been chasing her education, i.e. the train, only for it to prove elusive? Or did the train symbolize her childhood? Her innocence maybe? And had Severus' appearance represented her personal or professional relationship with him? Was there even a difference anymore?
Tired and on edge, Hermione attempted to forget the puzzling dream by packing her belongings. Though she wouldn't be leaving the castle with the rest of the students today, she did have to move rooms. The Head Girl chambers were no longer hers. In the fall, they would relocate themselves to whatever House next year's Head student belonged to. Meanwhile, she would take up residence in her new apprentice quarters.
A few days before the Headmaster had shown her and Neville where they would be staying for the duration of their internships. Instead of placing her in the dungeons, near the potions lab and Snape, and Neville close to Sprout, Dumbledore had had one of the unused corridors revamped for their use. When he had led them to the third floor, Hermione had been amused to discover that both her and her fellow apprentice would be residing in the same hallway that has once housed Fluffy, Hagrid's three-headed Hellhound, and the entrance to the underground labyrinth that had guarded the Philosopher's Stone. She was relieved to learn that the dog, the troll, and the rest of the obstacles from her first year had been cleared away long ago.
Her new quarters proved to very comfortable. The layout was similar to the standard staff chambers with a small study, bedroom, and private bath. The décor would be left to her discretion but the furniture was sturdy, neutral colored, and in good repair. Neville's rooms were identical and located just a little further down the recently polished corridor. The wizard, who had had to share a dormitory with four other boys throughout his Hogwarts career, was ecstatic with the upgrade in accommodations.
Dumbledore had also led them down to the school's front gates where he added their magical signatures to the wards that protected the castle and grounds. As of today, they held statuses similar to that of the teachers and were allowed to come and go as they pleased. Neville's apprenticeship, being only a year long, would end the following summer and Hermione's would continue for a year after that.
It was still difficult to wrap her head around the fact that she now basically worked at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was still a student, of sorts, but also a type of employee, answering only to Snape, as her mentor, and to Dumbledore. Severus had been receiving royalties from the Cruciatus potion for months and been funneling what he felt was her share into an expense account. Every month since signing the apprenticeship contract, a small stipend had been deposited into her account at Gringotts for her personal use. She had only used the extra gold once thus far, to purchase a few more mature sets of work robes, since she wouldn't be able to continue wearing her student ones. With Ginny's assistance, the task had been completed on their last trip into Hogsmeade and the simple yet functional garments now sat folded in a small pile on her bed.
Hermione finished levitating her book collection into the bottom of her trunk and then stacked her clothing and personal effects, including her otter, on top. By the time the sun had crested over the mountains to the east of the castle, all of her belongings, except for her booksack, were safely packed away and the room that she had been living in since September was as bare as when she had first arrived. Lighting the fireplace with her wand, she threw in a pinch of Floo powder, called out the destination, and shoved her heavy trunk into the emerald flames. It would be waiting for her in her new chambers when she arrived.
Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, slung her booksack over her shoulder, and looked around the sparse space one last time. Crookshanks had already left, likely to venture outside and bask in the rising sun, but she knew that the half-Kneazle was bright enough to locate their new accommodations on his own. Gryffindor Tower was no longer home. With a sigh she walked to the exit, doused the fire and the lights, and quietly shut the door on a piece of her past.
The Common Room was empty when she reached the bottom of the steps, save for one younger boy that was fast asleep on one of the couches. She doubted that anyone else would be up for a few hours yet, especially those who would be nursing hangovers from the night before. Hermione contemplated curling up in one of the overstuffed armchairs with a book but really fancied a cup of coffee. Weighing her options and deciding that caffeine was necessary, she made her way over to the portrait hole. The boy on the sofa grunted in his sleep and turned over as she silently slipped out the door. At that hour, even the Fat Lady was dozing in her frame.
The former Head Girl started in the direction of the Great Hall, not entirely sure if breakfast was even being served yet. It was just now six o'clock and she couldn't remember ever eating before seven. When she arrived in the empty Entrance Hall, she was dismayed to find the doors to the dining room tightly shut. A quick peek inside revealed the vast chamber dark and barren.
With a frown she turned back, unsure what to do. She could conjure a cup of coffee but it was never quite as good as fresh brewed. She could probably summon Dobby, who would undoubtedly be happy to bring her some, but she wasn't sure if the elf had relocated to Grimmauld Place yet or not. Requesting such a trifle from any elf, whether paid or not, still didn't sit well with her either.
She was crossing the second floor landing when the solution came to her — the teacher's lounge. When they met with him the other day, Dumbledore had told both her and Neville that they were free to use it once school had ended. He had also mentioned that it was constantly stocked with freshly brewed tea and coffee and an assortment of biscuits. Spinning around on the spot, she jogged back down to the Entrance Hall and made her way to the stone gargoyles that guarded the staff room door.
Coming to a full stop, she looked at the twin sentinels questioningly. "Er, may I go in?"
The statues didn't speak or show any sign of hearing her request but the door between them swung open with a tiny squeak. Smiling, she stepped inside. The empty room was the same as it had always been. A wooden table and a dozen chairs took up the majority of one wall, a small bar was along the other, and an old wardrobe stood in the rear — the same wardrobe that had housed a Boggart in her third year.
Sidestepping the memory of the Snape-Boggart wearing Mrs. Longbottom's clothes, Hermione made a beeline to the steaming coffee pot on the sidebar. She poured a cup, added a tiny bit of cream, and went to sit in one of the large, mismatched armchairs by the cold hearth. She dropped her bag between her feet, pulled a book from its depths, and lit the fire with a casual flick of her wand. The crackling flames quickly warmed the chilly stone chamber and with a contented sigh, she settled back and sipped her coffee.
Hermione tried her best to get into the neurology text that rested on her lap. She had owled her father to send it to her a month ago and had only managed to make a small dent in the extremely dry medical jargon. It wasn't that it was uninteresting but it required a vast amount of concentration to decipher. Her mind that morning, no matter how hard she attempted to focus, kept straying to the dream from a few hours previous. After her fourth pass at the same wordy paragraph, she shut the book with a frustrated grunt and stuffed it back into her bag. Her thoughts were too jumbled to concentrate.
After a few minutes of sitting with her eyes closed, replaying the illusion and attempting to discern any meaning, Hermione was startled by the door behind her creaking open again. She opened her eyes and turned to see her Head of House enter the room in her customary tartan dressing gown, her hair spilling loose over her shoulders. Out of the confines of its normal severe bun, the black strands were streaked far more liberally with gray than they been when Hermione had first met the older witch — her, Harry, and Ron's partial doing, no doubt.
"Miss Granger," McGonagall said with start, "what on earth are you doing here?"
"Good morning, Professor," Hermione replied with a slightly guilty grin. "I, uh, desperately needed some coffee and breakfast hadn't started yet. Professor Dumbledore said that I could start using the staffroom if I wished."
With a curt nod the older Gryffindor moved across the room to the tea service. "Of course, though I doubt that anyone would have begrudged you the privilege even before your apprenticeship. Caffeine is a serious matter around here."
Minerva poured a cup of tea, added the faintest hint of honey, and strode over to the sitting area where the young woman was perched. "Mind if I join you for a moment? I am not quite myself without my morning tea."
Hermione smiled again. She had always been fond of the Transfiguration teacher. Authoritative and strict most of the time, she could also be kindly, fiercely protective, and surprisingly warm. "Of course."
The elder witch sat herself in the chair across from her charge and took a prim sip from her mug. The House Elves brewed a remarkable Darjeeling blend. After a moment she peered up at the girl over her square-framed spectacles. "I'm surprised that you're up so early. I was under the impression that the seventh-years had only crawled into bed recently."
"So you knew?" Hermione asked, not surprised. "I thought as much."
"There is very little that we professors are not aware of," McGonagall replied with a wry smile. "It's always amusing, though. Every graduating class believes they are the first to think up the idea of a last celebration. With all the tumult of the past few years there hasn't been one since you were too young to attend, but it is a tradition steeped in history. On my last night as a Hogwarts student, we all snuck out of the grounds and held a raucous gathering at the Hog's Head."
Hermione gawked at the girly grin on her professor's face, hard pressed to imagine the venerable woman ever being a rule-breaking teenager. "Really?"
Another curt nod and Minerva chuckled. "That was before Aberforth owned the place, of course. The barman at the time was a greedy old wizard that had been all too happy to take gold from a room full of foolish children." She sipped her tea. "If I remember correctly, when your new Potions Master graduated, they chose the Shrieking Shack — no doubt James Potter and Sirius Black's idea."
Hermione giggled and had to wonder if Severus had actually attended that party. After his run in with the Whomping Willow and Remus in werewolf form, she somehow doubted it. She made a mental note to ask him about it later once he was in a congenial mood.
"So why aren't you still sleeping with the rest of your undoubtedly ill classmates?" the Animagus asked conversationally.
"I tried to sleep but my mind wouldn't really settle," Hermione replied truthfully. "I got up and packed my things instead, hence the need for this." She held out her coffee mug in a mock toast and then took a large gulp.
Minerva murmured wordlessly, appraising the younger witch over the china rim of her teacup. She looked tired but more distressed than anything. "Momentous day for you all. A lot of big changes afoot."
"Yes," Hermione breathed, giving voice to the feeling of unease that had been weighing on her shoulders. "I don't really know how to process it all, actually. How do I stop being a Hogwarts student after seven years?"
The older witch nodded, more sympathy imbued in the gesture than was customary. "That is certainly understandable. Everyone else, with the rather surprising exception of Mr. Longbottom, is afforded the luxury of leaving here, providing a clear end to their days as a pupil." She drank from her cup, obviously mulling the predicament over in her head. "When I graduated, it was the custom to tour the word after leaving school. For a year I traveled to every magical place of interest in existence at the time. I met, observed, and studied with witches and wizards around the globe before settling into my adult life. It was a fair few years after that before I returned here to begin my apprenticeship with Albus."
"You mentored under Professor Dumbledore?" the brunette asked in surprise. She had never heard that tidbit before.
"I did. And I don't believe I'm exaggerating when I say that you will likely have a smoother tenure with Severus, even as grouchy as that man can be."
Hermione chuckled. She could only imagine how frustrating Dumbledore would've been as a master, especially to someone as studious and by-the-book as McGonagall. Dumbledore was more of a whimsical free-thinker and the two had probably clashed spectacularly. At least she and Snape had similar work ethics and practices.
"My point is that I had a clear transition and some life under my belt before I began," the Head of Gryffindor continued. "And while you've experienced quite a bit in your short life, you are still very young to be thrown so unceremoniously into adult responsibilities. It's sure to be confusing and unsettling."
Hermione wasn't sure how to respond. She somewhat agreed with the woman's assessment but there really wasn't anything that she could do about the fact that she was young and she couldn't suspend her apprenticeship until she had lived more life. She settled for sipping what remained of her coffee and allowing the pregnant pause to drag on between them.
Minerva tapped her fingernail against her teacup thoughtfully for a few moments before asking, "May I make a suggestion?"
The younger woman nodded, an optimistic glint in her brown eyes. She needed all the help that she could get and she had always trusted the older witch's judgment. "Please."
"Take the train today."
"What?" Hermione asked in surprise. A fragment of her dream flashed through her mind again.
"Board the train with your classmates as you would've done before accepting the position with Severus. Spend some time with your friends. Say your goodbyes in London. And then Apparate back to Hogsmeade." Minerva smiled kindly and adjusted her glasses. "It is not much, but it may help you in separating your days as a student and the days to come."
Hermione sat back slightly and considered the proposal. She had always been meant to take the Hogwarts Express home, as all the students did. As the parting Head Girl, she even had responsibilities to oversee on the train, though she had made arrangements for Draco to handle them alone in her absence. A day's journey on the rails between the Scottish Highlands and King's Cross would probably supply her with some closure — a symbolic end to her childhood, as it were.
Was this what the dream had been alluding to? Did she have a subconscious need to be on the train? If so, what was the part with Snape supposed to be about? Why did she have to chase after both him and the billowing engine? Were they connected somehow or was his scowling visage simply her mind's way of reminding her how angry he must be with her for not visiting him last night?
"It's worth a try anyway," the professor offered quietly as she watched the turmoil play out across the young Gryffindor's features.
Hermione shook herself from her confused musings and attempted to smile. "Thank you, Professor. I think I'll do just that."
The older woman returned the smile and stood to replace her empty teacup on the counter. "I'm glad to hear it." She made for the door, all too aware that the younger students would soon be moving about the school, excited to begin their summer holiday, and that she still needed to get ready. She turned back to her now-former charge, prouder of the woman that she had become than any pupil in recent memory. "And dear?" She waited for the witch to meet her gaze. "Do call me Minerva. All my colleagues do."
Hermione smiled as her Head of House took her leave. It would be so strange to interact with her former teachers as equals, sharing coffee and swapping stories about miscreant students. She was close to Remus and Severus, of course, but even though she had spent a significant amount of time with McGonagall over the years, the title of 'friend' still didn't quite apply. Being on a first name basis with her, Flitwick, Sprout, and the rest of the staff was at once exciting and nerve-wracking.
She suddenly pictured Neville trying to call Severus by his given name without fainting and chuckled. Her amusement, however, was soon eclipsed by an entirely different set of emotions at the thought of the dark wizard. She missed him — missed his touch, the deep timbre of his voice, his snarky wit — but she was also anxious about what his current mood might be after last night. The latter feeling was only exacerbated by the idea of leaving Hogwarts for the day. How could she possibly explain that that's what she wanted to do but still emphasize how desperately she wanted — needed — to be with him?
She wanted to Floo to his study right then and there, from the crackling hearth not two feet away, and bury her face in his chest. The problem with that course of action was that she suspected he wouldn't be of the mind to immediately envelope her. They would have to discuss her failure to show up the previous evening — argue about it, perhaps — and she would have to soothe his wounded ego before he would be amenable to comforting her frazzled nerves or accepting this latest scheme.
Working on nearly zero sleep, she didn't feel up to a row this morning. Their heated disagreements were typically enjoyable, especially at their conclusion, but she felt too discombobulated and vulnerable currently — too much was weighing on her psyche already to be able to withstand his usual obstinacy.
There was a second reason that she didn't think going to his rooms at this juncture was an entirely wise idea. Now that his ban on intimacy was null and void, being alone with him would almost surely lead them to his bed even if they argued first. Passion and anger were close bedfellows. While she had been dreaming of shagging the man for months now, if they began such activities that morning, she knew that she wouldn't have the willpower to leave, either to catch the train or even just to bid her friends farewell.
No, it would be much safer all the way around to delay confrontation until that evening, once she had done what she now felt was necessary. But she didn't fancy just disappearing for the second day in a row either. She would need to get word to him about her plans.
Getting up from the armchair and moving to sit at the empty table, Hermione removed a length of blank parchment and quill from her bag. After applying a quick inking spell, she attempted to pen a note to the wizard. It took three revisions and a great deal of mental deliberation before she was satisfied.
Dearest Severus,
Firstly I want to apologize for not coming to your rooms last night. I don't know whether you had expected me or not, but if you did, I'm sorry. I attended the graduation party instead as everyone will be leaving today and I don't know when I will ever see some of them again. If Professor McGonagall is to be believed, which I'm sure she is, you probably remember this rite of passage from your own days as a student. Believe me when I say that though I enjoyed myself, you were constantly on my mind.
My second and main reason for writing is to inform you of my whereabouts today. After a discussion with Minerva, as she told me to call her, I have decided to take the train to London one final time. No doubt you will view my motives as silly but I feel a pressing need for finite closure on my childhood days at Hogwarts before I can proceed with my adult placement. I am hopeful that this last journey aboard the Hogwarts Express will grant me that.
Do stop muttering "foolish girl" under your breath, Severus. I can practically hear you through space and time.
I will return to the castle this evening and hope to spend at least part of the night in your arms. I have missed you terribly.
Until then,
Yours, Hermione
Reading the note again and deciding that it would have to suffice, the Muggle-born rolled up the parchment and spelled it to open only to the Potions Master's magical signature. It was fairly succinct, slightly teasing, and with only the barest amount of mush. Severus Snape was not the type of wizard to whom a person sends an effusive love letter. She would hand him the missive at breakfast so as not to be caught in his all-consuming presence alone. No one would question the action any longer. After all these months of being the man's apprentice, seeing the two interact outside of the classroom had become commonplace.
Hermione slid the scroll into her bag and checked her watch. It was a few minutes past eight. The boys would likely attempt to drag themselves down to the Great Hall soon. She figured it was best to meet them there, lest they worry over her whereabouts. She knew that they at least would be ecstatic when she told them that she'd be joining them on the Hogwarts Express.
As she made her way to breakfast, another thought presented itself as well. Perhaps once they were all aboard the train, her Head Girl duties were finished, and she and the boys were alone, it would be a good time to tell Harry and Ron about her relationship with Snape. The very idea of such a conversation made her pulse accelerate. She didn't want to tell them — she anticipated a hellacious confrontation — but she wanted them to know. She had felt guilty about keeping the truth from them for months. Every time she had had to lie or not disclose the entire truth about her time in the dungeons had felt like another sliver added to the wedge that had manifested between them. Even if they were angry, even if they yelled at her, even if they stopped talking to her altogether for a time, she had to dispel the guilt and dislodge the wedge. They were her best friends and even though keeping secrets from them had thrilled her at first, she missed them knowing everything about her and vice versa.
With her mind mostly made up, Hermione entered the Great Hall, which was already half full. She scanned the room and spotted several miserable looking witches and wizards, all of which had attended the previous night's party. Her resulting smirk was quickly replaced by slack jawed surprise when she noticed the familiar white-blond locks of Draco Malfoy in a most unexpected place — the seventh-year end of the Gryffindor table. He was sitting next to Ginny in what was normally her own seat. The two had been dating and shagging for months and yet this was the first time that he had ever crossed House lines in this manner.
The Head Girl slid onto the bench beside the pureblood, an approving but curious smile playing across her lips. "Good morning, Draco, Ginny."
They both turned to face her. The redhead was beaming. "Morning, Hermione."
The Muggle-born's attention was drawn more to the out-of-place Slytherin. His expression bordered on a scowl and he didn't appear entirely comfortable in his current location. "To what do we owe this honor?" she asked, trying not to laugh.
The Head Boy gave a disgruntled sigh. "It was Red's idea and she owes me. Big time."
The younger witch snorted and Hermione saw her hand snake onto the blond's thigh under the table. "It's one meal. Your last one here. I think you'll live, love," Ginny said.
"I feel like I'm going to be hexed at any moment," he muttered, pale eyes scanning the length of the rival table.
Hermione finally gave in and chuckled. "Ginny and I will protect you."
His answering sneer made both witches snicker and he immediately sought to change the subject. "Did you end up in the dungeons last night, Granger? I haven't seen my godfather yet this morning. Did you leave him tied to the bedposts?"
Ginny snickered again and Hermione's gaze moved to the staff table and the Potions Master's vacant chair. She frowned slightly. His absence at the last breakfast of the school year, especially after the previous night, felt ominous. Maybe he had just slept in? "No," she said softly, looking back at the pair. "It was really late when I left the party. I noticed that you disappeared rather early though."
Their twin smirks were slightly eerie. "Last night together for a while," Ginny replied, squeezing Draco's thigh. "Didn't want to waste the whole thing. I don't know yet how hard it'll be to convince Mum to let me visit Malfoy Manor."
Hermione nodded. It would be a hard sell. The Malfoy and Weasley families had been adversaries for a long time, lending a Romeo and Juliet quality to the couple's relationship. They were cute together and she hoped for their sake that the problem could be resolved quickly. "If she says no, you can tell her that you're coming to spend to time with me. We can probably set up a Floo connection or something. Or I could come get you with Side-along and then take you to Draco's house." The redhead wouldn't be able to take her apparition test until August.
The girl's brown eyes sparkled. "Thanks, Hermione. You're the best."
Draco wanted to kiss the frizzy-haired witch for the offer. He was already mourning the loss of unlimited alone time with his girlfriend. It had probably been the best year that he had ever spent at the castle but without being able to see the Chaser on a regular basis, it might just be the worst summer on record. He nudged the girl on his right with his elbow, settling for teasing her instead of outright thanking her. "Better that you waited, Granger. The dungeons will be empty once we've left. Less people to overhear you." He waggled his blond eyebrows suggestively.
"Actually," Hermione began, only to be interrupted mid-thought by the arrival of Harry and Ron.
The two wizards slouched onto the bench opposite the trio, looking almost comically haggard. Despite their disheveled appearance, both boys glared daggers at the Slytherin. Draco sat up straighter, his back ramrod and his muscles tense as if preparing for a blow. No one spoke for what felt like an eternity.
"You two look bloody awful," Ginny said, breaking the heavy tension.
Ron scowled at his sister and then winced as if the expression hurt. "I feel like troll dung."
"Perhaps an entire bottle of Ogden's wasn't the smartest idea," Hermione told him as she passed both of her best friends a small stack of dry toast.
Harry made a face at the offering. "I don't think I can eat. Feels like Voldemort's taken up roost in my head again." He rubbed his scar gingerly. He really didn't think that he had drunk enough to make him feel this bad.
Draco, who hadn't made a sound since the two had sat down, snorted. "That's not the Dark Lord, Potter, just the weight of bad choices."
Hermione and Ginny dissolved into laughter and the hung-over wizards both grimaced at the sound. After that nothing was said about the Slytherin occupant being at the wrong table and breakfast proved as pleasant as circumstances would allow.
Though their demeanor remained pained, the boys were thrilled to hear that the Head Girl would be riding to London with them. The news, along with the promise that she would help them pack after breakfast, convinced them to eat in order to dry up the remaining alcohol in their systems. While they were preoccupied with pancakes, Hermione pulled the scroll from her bag and slid it onto Malfoy's lap under the table. "Will you take this to Severus?" she whispered so that only the blond could hear her.
Pale eyes flickered up to the staff table and back again. The older wizard had never shown up for breakfast. "Is he likely to hex the messenger?"
"Not if it's you," she murmured. "If I go down there though, I'm sure I'll end up missing the train."
Draco searched her face for a long moment, obviously trying to decipher her motives. She smiled softly. "It's fine, really. It's just an apology for last night and an explanation for today. I don't want him to be cross with me when I return this evening."
The Seeker nodded, discreetly tucked the rolled parchment into his robes, and stood, pulling Ginny up with him. Harry and Ron looked up questioningly at the movement. He entwined his fingers with the younger witch's and met their gaze unflinchingly. "Red's coming with me for the morning. Her things are already packed." Neither wizard had the energy to protest and Draco turned to their female cohort. "If you take care of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, I'll handle Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Deal?"
Hermione agreed and bid them a temporary farewell. The last day of school was always a hassle, especially for the Prefects and Head students. There would be tears to assuage, dawdlers to corral, and lost items to track down. It happened every year. The thought of the chaos to come and her responsibilities was fairly effective at taking her mind off the likely disgruntled man in the dungeons and her pending confession to Harry and Ron.
Keeping her promise, the curly-haired witch went back to Gryffindor Tower and helped the boys pack their trunks. As she knew it would, helping consisted of listening to Ron moan and complain as she and Harry collected all of their belongings. Once the last stray sock and House tie had been located — summoned from under Neville's bed and atop the chandelier, respectively — Hermione used her wand to neatly fold and stack everything in both of the wizards' trunks. They shut Pig and Hedwig into their magically Scourgified cages and levitated everything down to the common room where a squadron of House Elves waited to escort all the luggage to the train station.
Once the boys were sorted, the Head Girl systematically worked her way through the dormitories, assisting the younger students with their end of year packing. She had to console three tear-stained first-years who didn't want to leave, find and capture an errant toad that could've been Trevor's long-lost relative, and break up a duel between a pair of fifth-years who were arguing about the ownership of a rusted cauldron.
An hour and a half later, after clearing out the whole of Gryffindor and forcing all of its occupants downstairs to await the call to board the carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade, Hermione sprinted to the Ravenclaw's tower entrance. The door to the common room stood wide open as kids ran in and out, collecting their property and visiting with friends. With the help of the House's Prefects, she managed to clear the tower in record time. The Ravenclaws were always more organized and responsible than her own Housemates.
Another half-hour later and Hermione was exiting through the castle's massive double doors to the line of Thestral-drawn carriages waiting beyond the stone steps. After the recent war, nearly everyone but the youngest of the students could see the skeletal horses. With the veil of mystery removed, the stigma surrounding the creatures had dissipated.
Not seeing Harry or Ron anywhere, the Muggle-born joined Ginny and Draco in their carriage, which provided her with a perfect opportunity to speak with them alone. Once she was seated, the Slytherin locked the door with his wand so that no one else would attempt to ride with them.
"Did you give my note to Severus?" Hermione asked at once, her preoccupation with the wizard coming back full force now that she had a lull in activity.
"Of course," Draco drawled in his bored tone, settling back against the padded seat and slipping his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. "Nearly lost my arm when he ripped it out of my hand, too."
"He didn't seem to be in the best of moods," Ginny explained patiently. "I haven't seen him in such a snit since before you two started snogging on a regular basis."
Hermione swallowed as the carriage rumbled to life, bouncing slightly over the uneven cobblestones. "Bugger."
"You can say that again," Draco said with a smirk. "Unless that scroll contained a marriage proposal or nude photographs, you're going to have your work cut out for you tonight."
"Why aren't you spending the day with him?" Ginny asked, looking at her best friend worriedly. It was the second time in two days that the girl had chosen some other activity over shagging the wizard that she claimed to be in love with. She wondered if it was cold feet or something more serious. "Have you changed your mind about Snape, Hermione?"
"Merlin, no," the older witch breathed. "I just need to do this."
At the uncomprehending expressions the couple gave her, Hermione told them about her dream that morning, her apprehension at becoming a faculty member at Hogwarts, and her talk with McGonagall. By the time she had finished her explanation, the long line of carriages was rolling through the open gates of the school. They would be at the Hogsmeade station in minutes.
"I'm also going to tell Harry and Ron about Severus while we're on the train," she concluded, nervous butterflies sprouting to life yet again.
Ginny's mouth dropped open despite her best efforts. She had known that the older witch was going to tell the two one day, but suddenly, after three-quarters of year, it felt too soon. Harry and her brother were going to go completely nutters. They still weren't completely comfortable with her relationship and it was totally normal in comparison with Hermione's revelation.
"What I wouldn't give to be a fly on that wall," Draco mused. He wasn't surprised by the girl's announcement. In fact, he was shocked that she hadn't let the proverbial lion out of the bag before now — Gryffindor's weren't known for their secret-keeping abilities. He smirked. Potter's scarred head was going to implode, especially if she used the L word, and he'd pay good gold to see it.
"We will not be going anywhere near that compartment," Ginny said sternly, giving the wizard a look that brooked no argument. "I wish we could be on another train altogether. The entire country is going to hear the screams."
"It won't be that bad," Hermione said with false bravado, a sentiment completely undermined by her terrified expression.
Draco chuckled haughtily, mentally siding with his girlfriend. It was going to be one hell of a show. "Smart move to do it away from the castle at least. Less chance of them immediately trying to hex Severus' bollocks off."
Hermione frowned as the carriage shuddered to a stop. "You two are bloody brilliant at instilling confidence."
They both snickered as the trio exited onto the already-crowded platform. Ginny touched the other girl's arm. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm sure it will be okay. They'll be upset at first but they'll get over it quick enough. They love you."
A small smile parted the former Head Girl's lips. Gods, she sure hoped so. She refused to give up her friendships but just as vehemently refused to give up Severus. "Thanks, Ginny. I'll see you in a bit."
The redhead nodded and then turned to kiss her boyfriend, promising to save him a seat. He had to assist Hermione with getting everyone safely aboard the Hogwarts Express and then establishing patrols with the Prefects.
Once everything was situated and the train was thundering through the Highlands, Draco and Hermione left the Prefect's compartment to find their respective travel mates. The corridor was empty as the rest of the students got settled in and the relative quiet was nice.
About halfway down the moving hallway, they found Ginny in a compartment with Blaise and the Patil twins. Hermione had yet to determine which of the girls the dark-skinned wizard was shagging. Judging by what she knew about him, it could be both, simultaneously. Draco stopped before sliding the partition door open and looked at her. Pale gray met chocolate brown and a sense of understanding and support wordlessly passed between them. "One last hurdle, Granger. Just keep your eyes on the prize."
She smirked. "What exactly is the prize in this instance?"
"Testing out the springs of the Head of Slytherin House's bed."
She chuckled, as much at his words as the boy's purpose behind saying them. Time and time again he had proved resourceful and adept at distracting her from herself. No matter the seriousness of the circumstance, he could always get her out of her own head — a feat that most didn't even bother to attempt. It was one of the things that she loved most about the egotistical wizard.
"See you in London," he said with a grin before letting himself into the compartment to join his waiting girlfriend.
Hermione continued down the passage, checking each window that she passed, looking for not only her best friends but also any misbehaving classmates. High spirits tended to correspond with a high likelihood of shenanigans. Distracted as she was, she didn't see the wizard heading in her direction until she had nearly run into him.
"Neville!" She stumbled to a stop, a hair's breadth away from the large potted plant that the boy held in front of him.
"Hiya, Hermione," he greeted with a sheepish grin, taking a step backwards. He hadn't been looking where he was going either. "Did Professor Snape tell you to go home too?"
"I… What?" she asked in confusion.
"Professor Sprout sent me home for a couple weeks before I start my apprenticeship. She had some personal business to attend to and I wanted to see Gran and visit my parents anyway. I planted them this Flutterby seedling." He held the planter out further for her to inspect. "Did Snape give you leave too?"
In all the chaos that morning, the Muggle-born hadn't given a moment's thought to whether her fellow apprentice would be at the castle alone for the day or not. She would've felt guilty for the oversight except that the situation had resolved itself without her knowledge. His question reminded her that she would eventually have to tell Neville about Severus as well. He wasn't nearly as oblivious as most people assumed and was bound to suspect something since they would be at Hogwarts all summer together. The thought of wizard's abject horror at hearing the news made her smile wryly. "Not exactly," she replied. "I'm just riding to London and then Apparating back."
He nodded, feeling a bit sorry for the witch. She had been mentoring under Snape for months and the evil git couldn't even give her a few days' vacation. Bastard. "Sorry," he mumbled, his cheeks blushing slightly.
She chuckled. "Don't be. It's my choice. I have a lot of work to do. When will you be coming back?"
"Week after next."
"Good. I'll see you then. Should be an interesting summer." Her mind suddenly flashed on an image of the Potions Master lying prone on a sumptuous bed that she had yet to even see and it elicited a grin. Interesting was a misnomer.
They parted and Hermione continued down the corridor in search of Harry and Ron, her exchange with Neville and the image of Severus quelling her anxiety of what was to come to the smallest degree. She found the boys in one of the last compartments, alone and already surrounded by a mound of treats from the trolley. She let herself in, shut the door, and wordlessly cast a Muffliato charm around the small cubicle. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she sat down next to Harry.
"Hey, 'Mione," Ron said in greeting, half a chocolate frog in his mouth.
The bespectacled wizard beside her passed over a pumpkin pasty and she was instantly reminded of all the trips that they had taken just like this one. She could still vividly remember meeting the two boys on their very first train ride to Hogwarts as she helped Neville locate Trevor. She never would've guessed then how close they were to become or how many near-death adventures they were to share. She smiled and took the proffered treat, hoping against hope that they would still love her after her forthcoming confession.
"Get everyone sorted?" Harry asked as the girl bit into her pasty.
She nodded and swallowed. "Hopefully everyone will behave and I can stay in here for the rest of the trip. I'm so tired." Lack of sleep and the morning's events had taken a toll on her. Now that the adrenaline was trickling out of her system, it was rapidly being replaced by fatigue.
"At least you don't feel like a Hippogriff's been tap dancing on your skull all morning," Ron commented with a grimace. "You don't, do you?"
"No," she replied even though she did currently feel like vomiting, "because I knew better than to get pissed last night." He made a face and she smiled slightly. "Why didn't you go to Madam Pomfrey this morning? She could've given you something to make you feel better."
"Tried," the redhead replied, giving in and massaging the bridge of his nose. "There was a line."
Hermione snickered. Half the school had probably been in search of a hangover cure that morning. "Eat some more chocolate. It'll help."
He grunted and peeled open another frog. She closed her eyes and rested her head back on the seat, letting the boys finish their treats. There would be plenty of time to talk once they were well on their way to sugar comas.
The next thing the witch knew, she was being nudged awake by Harry's elbow. She blinked away the bleariness and mentally cursed. The sun was hanging low out of the window and the landscape had changed from mountainous to green pastoral fields. She had fallen asleep and wasted what looked like the entire day. Blast!
"Where are we? How long was I asleep?" she asked in rising concern. She had wanted hours between her confession and saying goodbye — hours in which to convince the boys not to hate her.
"We're about an hour out of London, I think," Harry replied with a smile aimed at calming the obviously agitated witch.
Gods! "Why did you let me sleep so long?"
He shrugged, not understanding the problem. "You looked knackered and we fell asleep too."
She made a face. The sentiment behind letting her rest was sweet but she was furious with herself for losing so much time. She glanced at Ron who gave her a slightly lopsided grin. The chocolate and a nap had at least seemed to put him in better spirits. She looked back at Harry and then resolutely out of the window. "I need to tell you something," she nearly whispered, "and I had hoped to have more time."
Harry shifted perceptively beside her, instantly on guard because of her tone. From the corner of her eye she saw Ron's brow raise.
"What is it?" the redhead asked.
Hermione took a deep breath, steeled her inner courage — she was a Gryffindor, damn it! — and forged full steam ahead. "I've been seeing someone." Her voice came out too shaky for her liking and she cleared her throat before continuing. "I didn't tell you at first because I didn't know if it would amount to anything but it's gotten quite… serious. I don't feel right keeping it a secret any longer."
Ron snorted, drawing her attention from the passing scenery. "Merlin's pants. I thought it was something dreadful. You're allowed to date, Hermione. We know you aren't a nun. Who is it?"
She looked from him to Harry. His green eyes were troubled, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Promise you won't hate me?" The words came out more pained than she would've liked.
The wizard's scarred forehead creased into a maze of concern. "Why would we hate you?"
"Because you aren't going to like who it is."
"It can't be that bad," Harry reasoned. "Malfoy's stuck so far up Ginny's bum that it can't be him."
"Oy!" Ron interjected hotly. "Watch the visuals, mate!"
Harry smirked at him before continuing. "It can't be Lucius Malfoy because you haven't left the castle in months. I don't know anyone else who we'd be angry about, really. After all we've been through together, you could marry Grawp tomorrow and we'd be there to give you away."
The Muggle-born could feel hot tears build at the back of her eyes. The truth was worse, in their opinion, than any of the alternatives that he had mentioned — so bad that he hadn't even considered it a possibility. Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she fought the urge to cry. She looked down at her knees and whispered, "It's… Severus."
The compartment became deathly still and quiet, save for the clack of the train tracks beneath their feet. When no exclamations were forthcoming, Hermione peeked up at the boys, first Ron then Harry. Their features were oddly blank, like they had never heard the name or she had accidentally spoken in Mermish. The silence drug on for several of the longest moments in the history of forever and then Ron guffawed.
"You're taking the mickey," he said once he caught his breath. "Bloody Snape. Yeah right. Very funny."
She ignored the Keeper's comment as she studied Harry's expression. His eyes were swirling with a tentatively-controlled maelstrom. He knew that she wasn't joking. A tear slid down her cheek.
"Why him?" he asked stonily.
"Don't be daft, Harry. She's joking. She could say any name now and it'd be a damn sight better than Snape." Ron chortled again. "So who's the bloke, Hermione? Some Ravenclaw?"
Again she ignored the red-haired wizard. "I'm in love with him," she said, still watching Harry's reaction, glad that her voice had come out relatively steady.
His dark brows rose slightly in surprise. Love was a strong word. Still, his tone was frigid when he asked, "How long?"
Peripherally she could see Ron's face swinging back and forth between the squared off pair, like he was watching a Muggle tennis match. It wouldn't take much more before the truth sunk in. "Since I went with him to Malfoy Manor, though for me it began sometime during all the detentions." She sighed and brushed another tear away like an annoying insect. "I didn't really mean for it to happen, Harry. It just did. Please understand."
The bespectacled wizard stared at his female best friend for a long time, searching her gaze for any misgivings about what she was saying or signs of dark magic that might explain her pronouncement. He found none. Under the tears and obvious trepidation, love shone clearly out of her milk chocolate orbs. She was in love with Severus Snape and she was happy about it — happier perhaps than he had ever really seen her. He didn't need to know Legilimency to see the truth. She was an open book to those who cared to look. Her eyes said it all.
He swallowed and tried his hand at thinking before speaking. It wasn't one of his strongest qualities, but this was Hermione. She was one of the best friends that he had ever had, an immensely intelligent and talented witch who had stood beside him through all of the chaos that he had endured since he joined the wizarding world, including the defeat of Voldemort. He didn't want to speak in anger and say something that he wouldn't be able to take back. He also didn't want to see another tear fall down her face.
He hated Snape and had since his very first potions class. The man was a miserable, bitter, cruel, vindictive, greasy-haired bully. Hermione deserved so much better. As unpleasant as Snape was, however, Harry couldn't deny that he was also creepy-smart, powerful, and braver than most people gave him credit for. He had been a double spy for longer than the trio had been alive and though Harry hated to admit it even in his own head, the foul wizard had saved them countless times over the years. He was caustic but not evil.
Before Harry had finished formulating an opinion or had figured out what to say exactly, Ron piped up again. "Wait… You aren't serious, right, Hermione? You are joking, aren't you?"
Hermione finally tore her gaze away from Harry to look at the Keeper. His eyes were wide beneath the fringe of red. She tried her best to smile at him. "No, Ron. I'm not joking."
Blue orbs growing wider still, the boy spluttered. "You're really…shagging… Snape?!" If the compartment hadn't already been warded, the entire train would've heard him.
His question was slightly loaded. She had yet to actually shag the Potions Master but it was only a matter time until she did — hopefully only hours. She didn't think, however, that they needed to hear those specifics at the moment. "I didn't say I was shagging anyone," she replied. "I said that we've been seeing each other."
"But… it's Snape! We hate Snape!" Ron shouted, looking between the obviously-crazy witch and Harry, begging for help with the point. He knew that Hermione didn't exactly hate the snarky old bat — she had been working with him for months and had seemed unfathomably happy about it — but dating him? How could the girl look at that greasy, sneering, vampire-pale wizard and see anything romantically redeeming?
"I believe the point that she's trying to make," Harry said, speaking for the first time in several minutes, "is that she doesn't hate him." The truth of the matter was she never had. She had been defending the man for years, insisting that Snape wasn't the enemy and chastising them whenever they spoke ill of him. He looked at her again, needing to know one thing. "Did he seduce you, Hermione? All those detentions… did he do anything…" He didn't have a good word for what he was trying to ask. "…unprofessorly?"
Hermione snorted despite the heavy tension in the air. The question was just so Harry and so far from what had actually transpired that it was humorous.
"Sod seducing," Ron said, still louder than she was comfortable with. "Did he slip you a love potion or something? You didn't eat or drink anything funny while you were down in the dungeons, did you?"
The witch's mouth twitched. "No, he didn't slip me a potion or put me under a spell. And no, he never acted anything but professionally during the detentions." She took a deep breath before adding, "I seduced him."
"Bloody hell," Ron muttered in revulsion. "That's disgusting.'
His words stung but they were hardly unexpected. "I know that you two can't understand it and I'm not asking you to. I just didn't want to keep it from you any longer."
"Think I might've been happier not to know," the redhead replied. "That's the stuff nightmares are made of."
Hermione couldn't help but chortle and the tension that she had been holding onto seemed to seep away with sound. He wasn't hexing her or angrily declaring that they could no longer be friends; he was cracking jokes at her expense. Things were going to be okay. She turned her gaze to Harry, who still hadn't really offered his opinion.
His expression was blank. "Would you believe me if I said that I think I already knew?"
"What?" she asked in complete surprise. "How?"
"I don't know. I mean it's a shock but not really," Harry replied, rubbing the back of his thumb across his forehead — a gesture that betrayed the fact that he wasn't entirely sure what it was that he was trying to say. "But you've been spending so much time together, more than what seemed strictly necessary for your apprenticeship. I've checked on you a few times with the Marauder's Map and one night you were in his private study."
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly. She had worried about that damned map once or twice but had tucked the thought away since she hadn't been able to think of a good solution.
"I was just trying to make sure you were okay. You know that I don't trust Snape."
She scowled. "You should've trusted me!"
"Because you were being so honest and forthcoming with us?" he shot back.
She opened and closed her mouth, having no satisfactory response to that. She frowned.
"It's not just that," Harry said before the girl could try to chastise him further. "I didn't even think much of it at the time. You're in Remus' study all the time and you aren't shagging him."
Hermione wanted to reiterate that she wasn't currently sleeping with anyone but she kept her mouth shut. The Seeker was attempting to make a point and she wanted to hear it. She had been so careful to avoid detection. She had no clue how he had guessed such an outlandish thing.
"There's just been something different about both of you. I told myself that the apprenticeship just suited you, mental as the two of you are about such things, but this makes more sense." Harry rubbed his forehead again. His scar wasn't hurting — it had been just an ordinary scar ever since Tom Riddle had been vanquished — but his brain felt sluggish and achy after last night and this much contemplation was a strain. "You've been a lot less anxious than you normally are. Even during the N.E.W.T.s it was obvious that something or someone was distracting your frazzled nerves. And Snape has been acting weird too. He's still an arse but he hasn't been overly cruel or unnecessarily hostile in months. Remember that boy in Ginny's class that covered the entire classroom in orange goop a couple of months ago? I thought for sure that that kid would be flayed alive and given detention every weekend until he graduated. But Snape just started our lesson like nothing had happened. I asked the kid later and all Snape did was assign him an essay. One bloody essay."
Hermione remembered that incident quite well. The seventh-years had arrived in the dungeons mere seconds after it had happened. Some Hufflepuff boy had blown up his cauldron and splattered its contents everywhere, including all down the Potions Master's robes. The younger class had fled out of the chamber, Ginny shooting Hermione a meaningful look as she passed. The waiting seniors had stood there, frozen in place, watching in horror as the slime oozed down the taciturn man's normally pristine black attire. Hermione was the first to overcome the shock of the scene and had hurried in to help. She met Severus' eyes as she siphoned the potion off of his clothes with her wand. He had yet to say anything but his expression was full of malicious rage and he was obviously on the verge of erupting into a tirade. She had stared at him until he had taken the cue to silently enter her mind. When he did, she pushed forward image after image of her affection for him, desperately trying to head off the storm.
Draco, Blaise, and Harry had slipped into the classroom as the two stared at each other and wordlessly cleaned up the remnants of the explosion. Hermione had sensed Harry watching them at the time but hadn't dared to break eye contact with the professor until he calmly withdrew from her gaze. The room was clean, the students were in their seats, and it was as if the sixth-year debacle had never happened. The corner of his mouth had twitched in an approving manner and class had continued without a hitch. Severus had held her back after that lesson only to snog her soundly once the dungeon chamber was empty and the door was warded.
"You calmed him down," Harry reasoned. "I didn't know how or why at the time, but you did. We all saw it. The Snape of years past would've gone ballistic."
Hermione nodded. Her best friend had paid far more attention than she realized. She should have known he would — he was always trying to sleuth out mysteries. Still, she wasn't sure what it was he was trying to say. "So what does this mean?"
The wizard made a face and shrugged. "I can't say I'm thrilled about it, Hermione. He's old and snarky and there's about a million other blokes that I'd rather see you with. But it's your decision, not mine. If he makes you happy, then it is what it is."
Another tear fell down her cheek, this one born of relief instead of fear, as she smothered the boy in a hug, only releasing him when he complained about needing to breathe. She sat back up and looked across the compartment. "What about you, Ron?"
The redhead still looked awfully pale, the freckles peppering his cheeks standing out in sharp relief. "I'm with Harry, I guess. It's bloody gross but it's up to you." He scrunched up his nose. "I just really don't want to hear any details please."
"Me neither," Harry added emphatically.
The brilliance of the witch's smile could've warded off a hundred Dementors. "I love you guys."
"We love you too, sicko," Ron replied with a lopsided grin, opening up a chocolate frog that had somehow survived their earlier feast.
Harry and Hermione both snickered and accepted a proffered leg.
"You know," Harry said in a serious tone despite the chunk of chocolate in his mouth, "if he hurts you, I will kill him."
The former Head Girl glanced at him and smiled bemusedly at the look of fierce brotherly protection in his eyes. She didn't doubt him for a minute. "Only if you beat me to it."
He smirked as the train began to slow down. They'd be at King's Cross station in a matter of minutes. "Should have told us earlier, though. I wasted a lot of time in the last few days on your behalf."
"What do you mean?"
"I asked everyone I could think of to keep an eye on you. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Remus, Neville, Hagrid, even Nearly-Headless Nick," he ticked off the list on his fingers. "I made everyone promise to make sure you were alright."
"Harry," Hermione said in exasperation. "I really can take care of myself."
"I know, Hermione. I know."
The Hogwarts Express rumbled to a crawl as it made its final approach, putting an end to their discussion. They all stood and pulled off their school robes for the last time, the boys tucking theirs into their respective trunks and Hermione shrinking hers to fit into the pocket of her jeans. She helped the boys pull their luggage down from the racks and prepare to depart. She couldn't believe that this was the end of their Hogwarts journey together but any sadness about that fact was overshadowed by the immense feeling of relief that had soothed every nerve in her body. She smiled and bounced slightly on the balls of her feet as they waited to depart.
"Hey, why don't you come to the Burrow with us, Hermione?" Ron suggested as the train gave one last shudder and stopped. They could hear compartment doors already sliding open down the corridor. "Mum's making a big celebratory dinner for us and I think Fred and George are gonna be there."
"I really should get back to the castle." Now that the last hurdle had been cleared, her thoughts were beginning to refocus on Severus awaiting her return. She hadn't even seen the man, outside of her disturbing dream, since dinner the night before. She missed him so much that she felt like an addict suffering from withdrawals.
"You're gonna be stuck at Hogwarts for the next two years," Harry said, levitating his trunk to float behind them. It was so nice to be able to use magic legally outside of school. "I think Snape can spare you for a few more hours."
She felt her cheeks go pink as she unwarded the compartment. That was true enough. She felt torn between the three most important men in her world. She wanted to Apparate directly into Severus' bed and not leave for days, but she knew that this was the last time she would be able to be with Harry and Ron for a while. Life was slowly separating them and she wasn't quite ready to say goodbye. Swallowing the twinge of guilt in the back of her throat, she said, "Alright, but just for a little while."
The trio made their way off the train and to the public Apparition point at the far end of platform nine and three-quarters. Once a student was seventeen and licensed, it was no longer necessary for their parents to retrieve them from the station. If they didn't have younger siblings attending Hogwarts, most of the older students just Apparated themselves home. It was another rite of passage of sorts and the practice helped to keep down the congestion on the platform.
Hermione hugged all of her former classmates that she came across, even those that she had barely known, and Harry and Ron bade farewell to everyone within shouting distance. It was surreal that they all wouldn't be reunited on September first. Hagrid's tearful exclamation of it 'bein' tha end of an era' never felt so real as it did at that moment. Hermione caught Luna and hugged the unconventional witch twice before she went to find her equally wacky father.
When she and the boys reached the Apparition queue, they found Draco and Ginny already in line, saying goodbye as physically as was possible in the crowded station. It had already been agreed upon that Molly and Arthur wouldn't be coming to the station to pick up any of their children this time. Before Hermione had decided to join them, Ron had planned to Apparate his little sister home since she had already taken the lessons and just needed licensed guidance. Now that the Muggle-born was tagging along, she would do the honors. She had always been far better at the three D's of Apparition than either of her best friends.
Once Ginny had released Draco's face with the sucking sound of a plunger being removed from a clogged drain, Hermione approached the blond.
"It sure has been an interesting year. Thanks for that, Granger," Draco said with a smirk, holding out his hand to her.
Hermione returned the expression and wrapped the pureblood into a warm hug, not giving a damn that he was usually opposed to such things. She was really going to miss the prat.
After a moment Draco's limbs relaxed into the girl's unexpected embrace and he hugged her back. "I'm going to miss you too," he whispered into her unruly curls. He glanced at her male entourage standing uncomfortably behind her. They still looked like they would rather hex him than allow him to touch any of their Gryffindor women. It was too bad for them that the witches of their House loved him. He smirked. "I take it that everything went okay with Potty and the Weasel?"
She released him and smiled. He hadn't used those nicknames in months and she suspected that he was only doing so now to cover up his momentary emotional slip. "Yes. Better than expected."
"Good. I'll see you and Severus soon, I'm sure. You can come christen the guest quarters." He wagged his eyebrow salaciously making the girl snicker.
The line in front of them had dwindled quickly and Draco was the next to depart. He winked at Hermione and then held his hand out to both Harry and Ron in turn. Surprised, they shook his hand stoically and then quickly looked elsewhere as the Slytherin thoroughly snogged his girlfriend one more time. Stepping back he wiped a lone tear from her cheek, whispered something in her ear that made her grin wickedly, and spun out of sight.
Hermione slid a comforting arm around Ginny, who looked as if someone had just stolen her favorite teddy bear. Together Harry, Ron, and the two witches left King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, and the Hogwarts Express behind with a loud series of cracks.
Dinner at the Burrow was, as always, chaotic and loud and comforting. Mrs. Weasley fussed over the three graduates and spoiled them with far too much food, culminating in a massive chocolate cake emblazoned with the Gryffindor House crest. The older witch admitted, during the toasts that followed dessert, that there had been times over the years when she had doubted whether the trio would make it to graduation whole and intact. Laughter was interspersed with a few tears as they recounted all the times that had come before. It was a wonderful evening.
Fred and George had come bearing gifts for the three of them — for Harry, a replica of Moody's magical eye mounted to a desk plaque, to prepare him for life as an Auror, for Ron, a pair of Keeper's gloves autographed by the Chudley Cannons, to remind him that no matter how rubbish his future team was there would still be fans, and for Hermione, a full his-and-hers set of Lockhart's Hair Care for Problem Locks products. The witch turned a blinding shade of red as Harry and the Weasley children howled with laughter. Molly and Arthur, who didn't quite understand the joke, watched them all with an air of exasperated amusement.
Before the twins left, they tackled Hermione in a double hug and tried their best to squeeze the air from of her lungs.
"Take care of Snape for us," George murmured in her ear.
"Yeah, we want him well-shagged and docile by the time we send our own kids to Hogwarts," Fred added. They each snickered and kissed her pink cheeks before Flooing back to their apartment.
After she and Ginny helped Mrs. Weasley clean up the dinner dishes, Hermione decided that she had better get back to the school. She had already stayed far later than she had intended and desperately wanted to see Severus. She hugged everyone, thanked the Weasleys for the party, and promised to visit soon. Molly insisted that she take a piece of cake with her and she accepted the huge slab of the chocolate confection, promising that she would share it with Snape.
She hugged everyone again, lingering longer on Ron than the rest of his family, picked up the twin's gift and the wedge of cake, and accepted Harry's offer to walk her out. They quietly strolled through the overgrown garden side-by-side, being careful to avoid the Gnomes prowling through the geraniums. Once past the gate, Harry drew her into a fierce embrace.
"I love you, Hermione."
"I love you too, Harry," she replied, feeling a tear collect at the corner of her eye. This goodbye would be more painful than the rest had been.
He pulled back and looked at her squarely. "You sure you're happy with Snape?"
She smiled softly. Always her protector. "Very."
He nodded, resigned to the fact that he had to accept her choices no matter how distasteful. "Take care of yourself then."
"I will."
He hugged her again quickly before she could spot his eyes beginning to water. "And promise me something," he murmured into her curls.
"What?" she sniffled into his shoulder.
Harry pulled back for the second time and wiped her cheek dry with the back of his thumb. He hated witch's tears, never knowing how to react to them. "Promise me no more lies or secrets. I've had enough of both to last twelve lifetimes."
Her smile was as watery as her gaze. "I didn't want to keep it from you, Harry. I just didn't want you to stop being my friend."
"For the brightest witch of your age, you sure can be daft sometimes," he replied with a smirk. "That'll never happen. I want you to feel like you can tell me anything. Even if you decide to marry Snape and have dozens of snarky, bushy-haired babies, I want to be the first to know. Okay?"
She giggled and hugged him one last time, squeezing extra hard. "I promise."
"Come visit soon," Harry wheezed as she attempted to crush his ribs.
Hermione nodded into his shoulder, kissed his cheek, and then spun out of his arms, focusing her thoughts on her destination. She knew that her departure was brisk but if she hadn't left right that second she might have lost her nerve to ever leave.
As odd a thought as it was, life with Harry and Ron would be vastly less complicated than returning to Hogwarts. She knew the boys inside and out, their likes and dislikes, their quirks and proclivities. They were her brothers — safe and comfortable. On the other hand, Severus was still a veiled mystery, even after all the months that they had been together. She knew a lot about him but every new snippet of information that she gleamed only revealed how much she didn't know. The taciturn wizard, however, was something that her best friends could never be. They were her heart, but he was her home.
When she arrived in the cobbled lane on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, she smiled up at the looming castle. She could almost feel his presence there, like a beacon lighting her way. Gods, how she missed that man. She hastened down the road that would take her to the front gates, thoughts of her friends getting pushed to the back of her mind.
Once back in the castle, Hermione made a beeline for her new chambers. The school was eerily quiet without the usual hustle and bustle of students. She didn't meet another person, living or dead, until she reached the third floor landing. Coming off the moving staircase just as it made to sweep in the opposite direction, she spotted Professor Lupin ambling down the corridor, a book held in front of his face.
"It's dangerous to walk and read, Remus," she jokingly chastised as she side-stepped the distracted wizard. How many times had someone told her that? Hundreds? Thousands?
He nearly dropped the book as he stopped short. He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Hermione. How are you this evening?"
"I'm well. Just returned from the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley threw us a little celebration dinner."
"That woman lives for an opportunity to feed people." His smile warmed. "I'm glad that you got away from the school for a bit. We did miss you at dinner, though."
Ah, a perfect opportunity to access the damage that she had wrought. "Was Severus at dinner?"
"Yes, for a time," Remus replied. "He seemed ill-suited for polite company, though."
Hermione had been afraid of as much. She was sure that he had expected her back by dinner time and she had failed to show up. Again. She sighed. "That was probably my fault. I didn't tell him that I would be gone this long."
The professor's kind eyes crinkled at the edges in amusement. "I suspected something along those lines. He kept one eye on the door throughout the main course and excused himself before dessert was served."
She looked down at the plate in her hand. "I did bring him some cake."
Remus chuckled, thinking that the petite witch would need to serve the treat off of herself in order to alter the Potions Master's current dark mood. He had been watching the couple for some time, though, and had seen how besotted the Slytherin was. Perhaps cheering him up wouldn't be so difficult after all. "May I suggest that you take it to him as soon as possible then?"
Hermione grinned. "Good thinking. See you at breakfast tomorrow, Remus."
"Have a good night, love," the former werewolf called as the girl sprinted off. He shook his head and wandered off in the direction of his quarters, book up in front of his eyes again.
Hermione let herself into her new chambers and lit the candles with her wand. Her trunk was on the hearth rug, still covered in a thin film of soot. She'd have to make time tomorrow to unpack her things. Looking around she spotted another anomaly that hadn't been in the room the last time that she had been there. Placed upon the desk in the corner was a large vase of freshly cut flowers. She moved closer, set the parcels in her arms down, and leaned in to smell the colorful blooms. They smelled of sunshine and summertime and Hermione knew that they had been gathered from the wildflower field out behind the school's greenhouses.
A white card was tucked into the arrangement and she pulled it out to get a better look. It simply read, "Congratulations, pet," in a familiar spiky scrawl.
The Muggle-born's heart soared and she propped the card up in front of the vase. She had never been sent flowers before. They made her feel special and adored. Grinning like a fool, she picked up the twins' gift and hastily moved into the bathroom to clean up before going down to the dungeons to thank the thoughtful wizard in person.
She found Crookshanks curled up in the sink fast asleep. She was glad to see that he had found their new rooms and had made himself at home in her absence. She quietly tucked the box of hair products into the cabinet under the sink, knowing that she would never tell Severus about Fred and George's idea of a present. She then stripped out of her clothes and turned the shower taps on, desperately needing to bathe after a full day of traveling. She absently stroked the sleeping Kneazle's ears as she waited for the water to warm, contemplating how best to handle the situation with the dark wizard several floors beneath her. She knew that he was upset but was hoping that the flowers he had sent indicated that he wasn't in too foul of a temper with her. She'd need to assess the situation in person before deciding what type of remedy was required.
When the small room had filled with steam, she stepped into the shower and washed as quickly as possible while still being extremely thorough. She really hoped that she would be able to lift Severus' mood quickly and that they could move on to more pleasant activities. She wanted nothing more to spend the rest of her graduation weekend in the man's bed.
Once bathed and dried, Hermione opened her trunk. The little stuffed otter sat at the top of her belongings, peeking up at her. With a soft smile, she picked it up and sat it in front of the vase of flowers. Moving back to the trunk, she fished out a small parcel wrapped in tissue paper. A few weeks ago, when she had purchased her new robes in Hogsmeade, Ginny had helped her pick out this little surprise. Returning to the bedroom, she laid the package on the bed and unfolded the wrappings, revealing Slytherin-green satin. She removed a form-fitting camisole that fell just below her navel and matching knickers that left just enough to the imagination but nothing more. The material had a slight sheen to it and felt like water in her hands as she slipped the pieces on. She checked the mirror inside the door of her empty armoire and evaluated her appearance.
The ensemble fit extremely well, charming itself to hug her breasts and bum in a perfect balance between wanton and modest. The green accented the gold flecks in eyes and the bronze tint of her skin. Her hair was a disaster but there wasn't much that she could do about it. Applying Sleekeazy's took time and patience that she didn't possess at the moment. Instead she gathered it into a messy bun and turned back to the mirror. Satisfied she pulled on a set of school robes and a pair of black slippers, pausing only to touch up her toenail polish with her wand and change the color from pink to a matching green.
Picking up the plate of chocolate cake, she walked to fireplace and threw in a pinch of Floo powder. She was nervous as hell but the unusual sensation of being nearly naked, save for the silky feel of her underclothes, beneath the heavy fabric of her robes flared some excitement in her tummy as well. She stooped into the hearth and clearly called, "Severus Snape's Private Quarters!" before spinning away in the emerald flames.