Reaching Maturity
Disclaimer: not mine.
A/N: just for the record, I have nothing against 70s music. It's not my opinions being thrown in here!
We've come now to the final proper chapter. The epilogue will go up next week.
Author comments for chapter 30
I have no idea why people interchange 'Professor' and 'Headmaster' with Dumbledore. Maybe it depends on who's talking?
I'm not telling you (of course!) who it is that's threatening Draco – although I can quite comfortably say that it isn't Fudge! As and when I sort out the sequel (still a lot to be written for that yet, so it'll be quite some time) it'll be relevant.
The sequel WILL get done. It just may take a very long time to come to fruition. It depends on everything else that's going on in my life. Time is highly significant!
As explained before, Ron and the other two have drifted apart in a big way, because he tends to see things very much in black and white, whereas Harry and Hermione are far more aware of the greyness.
"Wittering on" is indeed a British expression!
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Chapter 31: Harry's 18th
"Why are you dragging me out of the house so early, Hermione?" moaned Harry on the morning of July 31st. He was not quite awake yet, and was most put out at being hauled out of bed and ordered to make himself presentable immediately.
"Harry, nine-thirty is hardly early!" retorted Hermione huffily before they Apparated to Diagon Alley. She had half-feared that Harry would refuse to leave the house; that would have thrown all the plans completely out of kilter, and Draco would not have been happy.
Harry shrugged grumpily. "Shouldn't a person be allowed to sleep in on his eighteenth birthday if he wants to?"
"No."
"Oh."
Hermione rolled her eyes and restrained herself from shaking him in sheer irritation. "Listen," she ordered sternly. "I'm taking you out for your birthday and you don't have to spend a single Knut! You should be pleased!"
"But I'm tired!" he whinged pathetically.
"You shouldn't have stayed up till two-thirty this morning playing Monopoly with Sirius, Lupin, Snape and Hannah, then," Hermione shot back tartly.
"Hmph." He couldn't think of a decent comeback. Hermione always got the last word on things.
Hermione sighed wearily. This is going to be a looooong day, she groaned inwardly.
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It ended up being far from the tedium Hermione had anticipated. After spending the morning in Quality Quidditch Supplies (or QQS as Draco called it) and eating a delicious roast lunch in The Leaky Cauldron, Harry was full of life again, and the couple spent the afternoon being tourists in Muggle London and getting hopelessly confused on the Tube due to work being done on several lines. They gave up in the end and slipped down a side alley, Apparating back to Diagon Alley for ice-cream at Florian Fortescue's. Hermione took pride in the fact that she had not so much as set eyes on a single bookshop (although Waterstone's had been desperately tempting). At five past six, they returned to Lupin's.
Harry regarded the house from the front garden. "Why are the curtains in the living room drawn?" he inquired suspiciously. "It's still light. And where is everyone? There doesn't seem to be anyone around."
Hermione smoothed down her robes and walked up to the front door, saying nothing. She rapped sharply five times on the door. It immediately swung open to reveal an apparently empty house. She turned to Harry. "Well? Are you just going to stand there all night?"
Bemusedly, Harry joined her and followed her into the living room. By now he was completely bewildered. What was going on? It was completely black.
"The curtains flew open and the entire room bellowed, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!"
"What the –?"
"Happy birthday, Harry," Hermione whispered softly in his ear, lightly kissing his cheek.
He looked around at all the people gathered there, amazed at the sheer number of people. Sirius, Lupin and Tonks were, naturally, there – Tonks with scarlet curls to her waist and gold ribbons in her hair. McGonagall, Figg and several other Hogwarts teachers – even, surprisingly, Snape – were there. Every single Weasley, including Percy, was present. Then there was Seamus, Dean, Neville, Lee and Becky Jordan, Dai, Theresa, a large group of others from Hogwarts, Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, Hannah and Hermione's parents – and, of course, Dumbledore, Hannah and Draco.
A loud 'pop' sounded and Cecilia Rickman, somewhat dishevelled, suddenly appeared. "Sorry I'm late!" she apologised. "Oh God, did I miss it all? Had hassle on the trains – something about the wrong kind of sheep on the line or something equally ridiculous. It's not like you can Apparate inconspicuously form a Muggle train!" She pushed her thick dark hair from her face and grinned at Harry. "Happy birthday, Harry!"
"How you manage to get to King's Cross on time every year, Miss Rickman, is beyond my comprehension," remarked Snape. "It would transpire to be the only thing you are on time to."
"Shall we get this party started?" cut in Sirius, flicking his wand at Lupin's Muggle stereo, from which a Seventies hits CD began blasting out. The younger ones looked at each other in utter horror before fleeing to the garden.
"I know he's your godfather and everything, Harry," began Fred Weasley, grimacing, "but you have to do something about his taste in music! It's terrible!"
Harry nodded, pulling a face. "Believe me, I've spent the past four years trying. It doesn't work. Trust me on that one."
"There's better stuff than this around," Draco said, gesturing in the direction of the house and pulling a dismayed expression. "Paul Simon or something would be cool, but definitely not this. What is it, anyway?"
"Rod Stewart," Hermione informed them. "My mum used to fancy him when she was a teenager. Quite how, I don't know. I mean, have you seen what he looks like? The complete opposite to what my dad looked like back then – and now, for that matter."
"I haven't seen what he looks like. Why?"
Hermione shuddered. "His hair looks like he stuck his finger in a plug socket and he got electrocuted, for starters! Ask my mum to show you a picture; I'm sure she's got all his records and a load of fan club things somewhere in the attic."
"Hey, who reckons Malfoy can swap CDs without the adults noticing?" inquired Seamus, eyes glittering dangerously. There was a can of beer in his hand.
"I don't! I haven't got the faintest idea how that stereo thing works!" retorted Draco. "You're half-Muggle, Finnigan; you do it!"
"You're on! What shall I replace it with?"
"Anything! I really don't care, as long as it isn't this!"
"Sorted." The Irish boy disappeared, can of beer shoved into Dean's hand. The rest of the crowd stood in near silence, waiting to see if Seamus would succeed.
Several minutes later, Seamus emerged to the sounds of Sixties hits (CD courtesy of Hannah), waving the offensive CD high in the air in triumph. "Got it!"
"I know." Sirius stood in the doorway, attempting to look annoyed but ruining it spectacularly by the huge grin on his face. "Did you kids really think we wouldn't notice the difference between Maggie May and Needles and Pins? We're not drunk yet!" He shook his head and disappeared back inside.
"I wouldn't mind seeing McGonagall drunk," remarked Lee Jordan, grinning wickedly. "Or Lupin. I reckon that would be funny."
"Lupin just goes to sleep," Harry informed him. "I've seen Sirius dosing him up to the eyeballs with Firewhisky and he just drops off. I wonder what Snape's like."
"I don't think that would be a risk worth taking," Cecilia informed him knowledgeably. "Last year, when I was a fifth-year, we were celebrating the end of our OWLs and got…somewhat out of our heads, shall I say. Snape caught us – probably because Carrie Flitcroft ran screaming (naked, I might add) down the corridor and then threw up rather spectacularly right by his door – and he told us in no uncertain terms that we were all in detention for a week. He told us that he had absolutely no sympathy whatsoever for us, should we wake up in the morning with a hangover. I didn't get that drunk so I was OK, but he ordered Pomfrey to refuse to give any of the rest of my year any kind of remedy because it served them right."
"I imagine Pomfrey wouldn't have needed much persuasion about that," remarked Draco. Everyone laughed at that.
"Maybe we should slip Snape a Canary Cream?" inquired George Weasley mischievously.
"Later," advised Hannah. "Lull them into a false sense of security. Anyway, we can't all go in to watch; it'd look horribly suspicious, particularly to Snape – you know what he's like."
"Point taken. Pranks are sorted!" declared George cheerfully. "Who else shall we get?"
"McGonagall, Lupin and Sirius," said Draco immediately. "Sirius deserves no less for his absolutely appalling taste in music, Lupin would just be funny because nothing ever seems to faze him and McGonagall because she's so uptight all the time."
"Deal!" George turned to his twin and they moved slightly away from the rest of the gang gathered on the lawn, heads together and lost in their plotting. The others just sat around talking about events since they had left school, until Mrs. Weasley called them in for food and present-opening. The twins exchanged looks with Draco, and Hermione distinctly saw Fred slip something into his pocket that George had given him.
It was not until the end of the buffet meal that the Canary Creams were dispersed. The twins silently and discreetly switched the ordinary custard creams that were on the saucers of the adults' teacups of the selected few (Snape, Lupin, Sirius, McGonagall, Percy Weasley, Mrs. Weasley and Dumbledore).
It did not take long for the Canary Creams to have an effect. When they did, Percy let out a long-suffering sigh, McGonagall rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless and Lupin merely raised one eyebrow at the twins. Sirius smirked ("Nice trick, you two"), Snape tutted when he had shed his feathers and treated the rest of the food with the utmost suspicion, refusing to touch anything else, and Dumbledore applauded them.
"WHAT DID I SAY TO YOU TWO!" demanded Mrs. Weasley furiously, her face growing as red as her hair.
"But remember, Mum – they love us down Diagon Alley," George reminded her. "Raking in the cash, aren't we, Fred?"
"By the bucketload," agreed Fred, nodding vigorously.
"So be thankful, Mum."
"Hmmmmph."
The stereo began blasting out someone's Weird Sisters CD, rescuing the twins and resuming the party.
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"Good party, wasn't it?" commented Lupin at eleven-thirty the next morning, mug of coffee in his hand.
A muffled groan came from Sirius, whose head was buried in his arms, which were resting on the kitchen table. The blind was still drawn to keep the bright sunlight out.
"Serves you right for getting so drunk."
"Sod off."
"Oh, we're vocalising now? That is an improvement."
"Sod off, Remus."
"Why? It's my house."
"I was here first, Moony."
"Go back to bed."
"I will." Sirius forced himself into a fairly upright position and stumbled out of the room, nearly barging into Snape in the process, who was just entering the kitchen.
"Don't mind him. Hangover," Lupin cheerfully explained. "Serves him right."
"And I suppose you want me to make a potion to cure it?"
"Absolutely not. It serves him right. He shouldn't have drunk so much," replied Lupin without the smallest drop of sympathy. "Let him suffer. Perhaps he'll learn something from this experience – although given past experience, I confess that I doubt that very much. I'm being too hopeful."
"How is everyone else?" inquired Snape, sitting down and picking up the Daily Prophet.
"Harry and Hermione are fast asleep in Harry's bed – fully clothed, I hasten to add. Hannah had breakfast a while ago; she volunteered to go out for some milk and bread, both of which I'm rather low on."
"And Draco?"
Lupin sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. "Extremely severe headache, even though he hardly touched any alcohol. It's probably from the music and the dancing last night. He woke up about an hour ago, stumbled down here looking absolutely dreadful, muttered something about having a sore throat, and I think the sight of food sent him straight back to bed. He'll be shattered for the next few days, I imagine."
"We should keep a close eye on him, then."
"I'm sure Hannah will be only too happy to oblige. She seems fully aware of what she's getting herself into, now they're engaged." He began washing up his now-empty coffee mug.
"She's good for him. I like her."
Lupin stopped washing his mug and stared at Snape in disbelief. "This from Severus Snape? About a Hufflepuff? Wonders will never cease."
"Watch it, Lupin," growled Snape.
"Oh, go back to your paper."
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TBC
Only the epilogue left now!
