Finding it uncomfortable to be in the dungeons, Elizabeth headed up to her little apartment. When she got there, Fred was already on the sofa, his feet on the coffee table, reading the Daily Prophet.

"Hey," she said, leaning against the kitchen table.

"Hey," Fred smiled, holding out one arm for her to sit beside him. "How do you feel?" He asked.

"Not great," Elizabeth grimaced. "And not just from the hangover." She looked at him. "Mad at me?"

Fred shook his head. "You're an adult, and I'm not your keeper. But if you're going to be a crazy drunk, we really need to work on your skills." He gave her his hiding-something grin.

"What?" Elizabeth pulled away a little to look at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Fred said, the grin widening. "It's just when I got here, this little gem was on the counter." He held up a piece of parchment he'd been hiding behind the paper.

"I should have known you weren't reading," Elizabeth said, grabbing for the mystery paper. "What is it?"

"Not so fast," Fred said, holding it out of her reach. "This, my love, is your bill from last night. And I'm about to use it as an object lesson."

"Give it to me," Elizabeth ordered, lunging for it again, only to find herself pinned to the sofa under one of Fred's legs.

"Item number one," Fred said, obviously enjoying himself. "This is a bill from The Three Broomsticks. Never get drunk somewhere that you went when you were twelve." He reached over and took her glasses, setting them on his nose, but looking over them. "Also related to item number one is that this bill is from The Three Broomsticks. Never get drunk somewhere lame."

"Thanks for that, professor," Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Give me my glasses."

"Item number two," Fred continued. "This bill is time-stamped 12:30 am. Never get wasted before 2:00. That's just irresponsible." He cleared his throat. "Item number three: I see beer and rum on this list. And something called a Triple-Special, which doesn't bode well. Don't mix your drinks, and don't ever get anything with 'special' in the name."

"Okay, okay, you've made your point," Elizabeth said, trying to pull herself out from under Fred's leg that was holding her waist to the cushions. "I won't drink again."

"I don't think I said anything about not drinking," Fred said, holding up the paper. "Item number four: there are about a million drinks on here. You are… a hundred and tw...ten… pounds. You can only drink about half that."

"I was buying for Ron and Hermione!"

"Bringing us to item number five," Fred said, pointing at the bottom of the bill. "Never drink with amateurs, because you end up paying for their hotel bills." He tossed the parchment on the table. "Questions, class?"

"Are you finished?" Elizabeth glared at him.

"Yes," Fred said, handing her glasses back to her. "Except for one last thing. Next time you're going to get plastered, make sure I'm there. You were lucky last night that Hagrid found you and carried you home. If I'm irritated about anything, it's that you didn't have the sense to make sure you had some way to get home." His voice rose slightly at the end of the statement, and his eyes lost their teasing sparkle.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said honestly. "It wasn't really planned."

"Well, that's the point, isn't it?" Fred raised an eyebrow. "Planning would have involved getting a ride home. I want you to promise me that you'll call me next time. Before you get sloshed."

"I promise," Elizabeth said, finally wiggling out from underneath him.

Fred opened his arms, and she curled up against him, closing her eyes.

"Did you make up with your dad?" Fred asked, replacing her glasses.

"No," Elizabeth tightened her arms around his waist. "He basically gave me the shortest lecture on record and then left."

Fred sighed. "Go talk to him."

"Not right now," Elizabeth shook her head against his chest.

"Yes," Fred urged, pushing at her a little. "Right now. I want to hang out with you this afternoon, and you moping around isn't going to be fun. So go."

*S*S*

Elizabeth knocked tentatively on Severus' office door.

"Enter," the Headmaster's voice snapped through the wood.

"Dad?" Elizabeth closed the door after her.

"Elizabeth," Severus glanced at the connecting door to his quarters. "You came from the hall?"

Elizabeth nodded, sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Dad… I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't think."

Severus pressed his lips into a thin line. "You think you scared me last night?" He drew his wand, pointing it at the door, casting a silencing charm. "Merely months ago, you died in front of me. You died. The thing I've been working to prevent your entire life. It happened. Just exactly what happened to your mother. The insane madman took the last of my family. My heart very literally stopped. It froze in my chest, because you were gone."

He stood, leaning forward, palms on the desk. "You thought I was afraid last night? I'll never be afraid again. The actual event was so much worse than my nightmares, that I will live the rest of my life in a constant state of terror!" He slammed one hand on the desk and straightened, turning away from her, toward the window. "I don't think you understand the gift you've been given," he said, his voice falling back to dangerous quiet. "You've been given a second chance at life, and for the past few months, you've been squandering it. No more so than last night. So no, Elizabeth Rose, I wasn't more afraid last night that usual. I was angry."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said, the words sticking in her throat.

"So you've said," Severus frowned. "But knowing what you know, you still chose to do what you did. So prepared to waste the life that so many people died to protect." He turned and came toward her, leaning forward, resting a hand on each of the arms of her chair. "You're an adult, Elizabeth. It's time to own that. Start making choices that prove that you value your life."

"Yes, sir," Elizabeth bit her lip. "I swear. I'm… I'm sorry."

Severus nodded once. "Right, then." He straightened, and stepped back to lean against the edge of his desk. He looked at his daughter's tear-stained face. "Some day," he said quietly, "I hope you have a daughter. And I hope she turns your hair grey before it's time."

Elizabeth smiled a little. "Karma?"

"Quite," Severus said, raising an eyebrow. He maintained that stance until he couldn't stand it any longer. "Merlin, Hatchling." He opened his arms.

"You said you were angry," Elizabeth said softly, putting her arms around him. "Doesn't that mean you aren't anymore?"

Severus sighed. "I'm not angry. I love you, ridiculous child of mine. I don't like to see you like this. In limbo."

"I'm going to get it together," Elizabeth promised into his robe.

"I wish you'd tell me what I could do," Severus said gently, smoothing her hair.

"I wish I knew," Elizabeth said, pulling away and kissing his cheek. "I'm going to make Fred and I lunch later. Do you want something?"

Severus shook his head. "Mr. Weasley looked… displeased this morning."

Elizabeth grimaced. "I just endured a five point lecture, plus a bit of degenerative rambling at the end that was not numbered, but I suppose counted as item number six."

"Amazing, since the boy never organized an essay properly in his life," Severus said mildly.

"Well, maybe he took composition lessons," Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of Mr. Weasley," Severus said suddenly, examining the cuff of his robe with interest. "Have you two… set a date?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "We honestly didn't talk about it after I put the ring on my finger. We've talked about the house and the future, and all of that, but not… the wedding."

"Well, I suppose that's a healthier view than most young women have," Severus said. "Still, you need to set a date. Perhaps it will help you put your future into perspective."

"Maybe," Elizabeth nodded. "I'll talk to him."

"Good," Severus nodded. "Because I'm paying for this wedding, but I'm not planning it. That's you. And maybe Remus. He has more of an effeminate side than you'd think."

"Dad, you don't really need to pay—

Severus held up one hand. "Elizabeth Rose Evans, fathers pay for their daughters' weddings. Hopefully just the one," he smirked.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but gave him one more hug before she left the room.

*S*S*

"How about… June?" Fred asked, lying on his back on the floor in front of the sofa.

"That's only six months away," Elizabeth said, looking down at him from where she was lying facedown on the cushions.

"Yeah, but maybe that's good. That way, my mum can only make you crazy for six months."

Elizabeth considered the point. "You could be right. Alright. June. It'll have to be after school lets out."

Fred closed his eyes. "You want to have it here?"

"I guess," Elizabeth shrugged. "Are you alright? We don't have to work all this out now, it's just my dad—

"It's not that," Fred shook his head. "It's just I've worked something like thirty of the last thirty-six hours. I'm sorry. Having it here is perfect."

"Come on," Elizabeth sat up and stood beside him, offering him her hand. "Let's lie down."

"Was laying down," Fred muttered tiredly, but he let her lead him into the bedroom without further protest.

"You could have stayed home this morning," Elizabeth said, sitting next to him on the bed as he stretched out his long legs.

"I wanted to see you," Fred smiled, putting one hand behind his head and holding the other out to her.

"I missed you too," Elizabeth said, stretching out beside him and settling her head on his shoulder. "Next time you go out of town, I want to come."

"I'm all for that," Fred said, yawning. "Not sure how it will get me more sleep, but it will cure the other thing." He closed his eyes.

*S*S*

There was one wedding conversation they didn't have the day after Elizabeth's night at the Three Broomsticks. In fact, it was a conversation that Elizabeth had been putting off ever since the idea occurred to her.

Fred Weasley looked over the pile of Exploding Wands he was setting in the window display. "Pardon me?"

Elizabeth positioned herself with a large box between them. This reaction was the exact reason she'd chosen to have this discussion with people around. "Fred, it's not that big of a deal."

Fred frowned. "It is, actually. You don't want my name."

"It's not that," Elizabeth said, giving him a cajoling look. "It's just that I've been Elizabeth Evans forever. And there are plenty of people who don't change their name anymore. It's old fashioned."

Fred was silent, shelving wands.

"Do you need help?" Elizabeth asked awkwardly.

"No."

Elizabeth waited a few excruciating moments. "I need to get back." She cautiously came around the boxes. "Classes start back tomorrow. I'll see you later?"

Fred nodded, but didn't say anything. Elizabeth kissed his cheek. "I love you." She went out the door feeling dejected.

Apparating back to school, she threw herself into a chair at the table where Hermione was studying. "What's the big deal?" Hermione asked, knowing exactly what conversation had put her friend in this mood. "It's just a name."

Elizabeth glared, but said nothing to refute that fact. In fact, she said nothing for days, until they were sitting in the library, Hermione writing an essay for Herbology.

"I suppose you're changing yours," Elizabeth leafed through her Potions book without really reading it.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So you finally came up with a comeback?" She smiled, looking down at the diamond that sparkled on her left hand. "Of course I am. Hermione Jane Weasley."

"Mrs. Ronald Weasley," Elizabeth scowled down at her book.

"Don't think of it like that," Hermione said, her eyes still on her ring. "It's traditional, but it's good. You don't want your kids to have a different name than you, right?"

"I have my mum's name," Elizabeth shrugged.

"And it bothered you when we were younger," Hermione reminded her. "Do whatever you want, but I don't think it's worth potentially derailing your marriage over."

"You think he might not marry me?" Elizabeth felt a tightness in her chest.

"Ron said he's been easily irritated the past few days," Hermione said carefully. "Could be other things."

"Maybe." Elizabeth rolled her quill in her fingers. "Listen, I need to go out for a little while."

"Okay," Hermione said, pulling out a fresh roll of parchment. "Study for Herbology when you get back?"

"Sure," Elizabeth said absently, heading toward her father's office.

"Miss Evans," Severus smiled as she came into the room. "Do you need something?"

"Well," Elizabeth went around his desk to stand beside him, "I know it isn't a weekend, but I really need to go Diagon Alley for a bit."

"Mr. Weasley can't come here?" Severus asked, not for a moment considering that she was buying school supplies.

Elizabeth bit her lip. "He won't."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "What's going on?"

Elizabeth sighed. "We're in a fight… sort of." She played with the glass paperweight on his desk. "He's mad at me."

"About?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I thought that… maybe… I mean, I just was thinking about…"

"Hatchling, if you have to dance around the issue, that might tell you something," Severus said, frowned. "Spit it out."

Elizabeth grimaced. "He's mad because I said I might not take his name," she said, the words coming out in a rush.

Severus raised his eyebrows. "You certainly know how to kick a man where it is most effective," he said, shaking his head.

"Mum didn't take your name."

"Because it could have killed her," Severus reminded her. "And knowing what I know now, that she was going to be a target no matter what, we might not have done it that way."

Elizabeth shook her head, rolling the glass sphere until Severus took it from her. "Go. Be back by curfew."

"Thanks, Dad," Elizabeth smiled weakly and grabbed the floo powder from the bowl on the mantel.

The shop was slow, now that the holidays were over. There were two witches wandering the love potion section, and there was a new girl behind the counter. Other than that, the shop was empty.

"Is Fred in his office?" Elizabeth asked the magenta-robed witch.

"Is Mr. Weasley expecting you?" The girl asked, chomping on the pink gum in her mouth.

"Probably not," Elizabeth said. "The office?"

"He's busy," the witch said, clearly bored by the conversation. "He doesn't want to be disturbed."

"I'll risk it," Elizabeth said, starting toward the office.

The witch tapped a glass globe on the counter. "Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes?" Fred's voice came from the globe.

"There's a woman to see you."

The door to the office opened, and Fred looked out. "Julia, that is my fiancé, Elizabeth."

"So do you want me to send her back?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and went toward the office door. "Hiring whoever wanders in off the street?" she asked, after he'd stepped aside to let her pass and closed the door.

Fred grunted noncommittally and sat down at his desk; clearly ready to resume whatever he'd been working on before. Elizabeth sat at Ron's desk, trying to decide how to start. She watched for a bit while Fred read the same page of parchment over and over.

"I've always been Elizabeth Evans," she said, watching him carefully. He didn't respond, but his eyes stopped moving. Encouraged by the fact that he didn't snap at her, she continued. "There's a lot that's come with that. It's… I'm afraid to let it go."

Fred was quiet.

"I'm just now figuring out what it means to be Elizabeth Evans after last year," Elizabeth nervously folded the edge of a spare bit of parchment. "But I want to marry you. If you could just give me—

"You think I wouldn't marry you over this?" Fred interrupted, not looking at her. "Merlin, Betsy."

"Well…" Elizabeth fiddled with the parchment again. "Hermione—

"Has been engaged for what, ten days?" Fred tossed the form he'd been studying on the desk. "You should certainly take whatever she says as gospel."

"Ron told her you were acting… snippy."

Fred leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "My brother needs to keep my mood out of his pillow talk." He closed his eyes. "I've got the world's worst shop clerk out there, a business I'm still struggling to figure out on my own, parents who are walking around forgetting to do things, like pick up my sister from King's Cross, and a guy who owns the shop next door who wants us to ban kids. I may be 'snippy'." He dropped his hand and looked over at her. "We've fought before, and you still have that ring on your finger. In fact, we've fought worse than this."

Elizabeth nodded. "I know. But it's not usually so much my fault." She gave him a weak smile.

Fred sighed. "You took me by surprise. Usually you don't blind-side me with things like that in public."

Elizabeth blushed. "I thought I could avoid you flipping out."

"Well, you certainly accomplished that," Fred said incredulously. He looked at his watch. "It's nearly 7, Ron should be here soon. Can you stay? We can go for dinner."

"I just need to be back by curfew. Preferably not much before, because Hermione has it in her head that we need to study for Herbology."

"Good." Fred moved from his chair to the corner of his desk closest to Ron's. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Betsy. I always imagined it with my name, but if you don't want that, then I guess I'll learn to live without it." He ran a hand through his hair. "Remind me to put something particularly awful in Ron's coffee in the morning," he said wickedly.

Elizabeth laughed and stood to put her arms around him. "Are you mad he told Hermione or that Hermione told me?"

Fred considered the point. "I suppose it's mostly that he called me 'snippy'."

Elizabeth grinned. "Sorry, love, that was my word."

Fred snorted. "I know you have a more impressive vocabulary than that, Miss Evans," he leaned down to kiss her.

"That girl has to go," Elizabeth said, several moments later when they'd stopped for air. "She honestly expected I'd have an appointment."

"In her defense, she didn't know you," Fred said, opening the desk drawer and pulling out his wallet.

"Who doesn't know me?" Elizabeth said, raising an eyebrow.

"You've wanted to be anonymous for years," Fred grinned. "And now you want to sack people for it?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You said yourself she's awful."

"She is," Fred confirmed. "Good help is hard to find."

"Well, I'll keep an eye out," Elizabeth said. "And I can poison the guy next door if you want."

Fred laughed. "I'm just thinking of posting signs that say 'Underage? We understand! Come on in!'"

*S*S*

"You're proposing work-study?" Severus asked, sealing an envelope.

"Fred needs reliable help, or he's going to lose his mind," Elizabeth said. "Maybe Seventh years, a few different ones to cover the evening and weekend shifts?"

Severus looked at her for a moment, considering the point. "I suppose it's not a bad idea for students to learn some real-world responsibility. It would have to be students who had turned 17. I can't send under-age students into Diagon Alley. And there would be very strict rules about coming and going. However, if Mr. Weasley would like to come and find a few interested students, I suppose it would be alright."

"Brilliant," Elizabeth grinned.

"You didn't want to take a shift yourself?" Severus asked, reaching for a pile of letters sitting on the corner of his desk.

Elizabeth shrugged. "I help out sometimes, but Fred is uncomfortable with me working for him."

Severus looked like he was about to say something, but there was a knock on the doorjamb.

"Professor Snape?" Patty Calhoun, a Slytherin sixth year stood nervously in his open doorway.

"Miss Calhoun," Severus acknowledged, looking up. "What can I do for you?"

"You have a visitor," Patty said awkwardly, biting her lip. "I found him just inside the grounds, and he says he's here to see you about something urgent."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Who is it, Miss Calhoun?" But Patty didn't need to say anything as a blonde young man stepped forward into the room.

"I need your help," Draco Malfoy said quietly.