22: Rung Ten – Her

Disclaimer: Not mine. No money. Special thanks go to JKR for sanctioning HP fanfic.

Gobs of thanks go to my beta Southern Witch 69 and to my Brit-picker the amazing Saracen77.

22: Rung Ten – Her

September 30th, 3:05 pm

For what seems the fiftieth time, Kingsley leans over and gives Tonks the sweetest of kisses on the cheek. Her resulting smile is breathtaking as an expression of sheer happiness.

Looking around Tonks's sitting room, which is now Tonks and Kingsley's, I see their joy reflected on the faces of everyone gathered here. Almost every member of the Order under fifty is present.

Almost.

Ginny says Ron took security detail for their father's speech, allowing her to come to Tonks's birthday party. I almost believe that to be his only motivation.

Almost.

And Severus is absent. Perhaps he's unwilling to make Kingsley uncomfortable, perhaps bored by such celebrations.

Perhaps he finds it too difficult to be around me right now, too.

The lull in the gift opening continues as Susan and Dean set about Vanishing the mounds of wrapping paper Tonks tossed everywhere.

My glass is empty, but I decide not to join the others in the rush to the punchbowl since they're forming a bit of a scrum.

You can do this Granger – have a bit of a chat and all.

Breathing deeply, I turn to the right to face Ginny head on.

But she isn't beside me – or more accurately, her face isn't there. Instead, she's bent over digging under her seat, struggling to extract something, and muttering under her breath. Finally, she pops upright, and I see she's holding a rectangular package, which she holds out to me.

"Another one for Tonks? Wouldn't you rather give it to her?"

"No, silly." She smiles at me. "It's for you. Happy Belated Birthday, Hermione."

"Oh, Ginny."

She's still my friend.

My eyes come over all blurry. "Thank you. You shouldn't have, not with ..."

"Yes, well. It's not much – no need to get flustered about it." She smiles widely, but then it slips a little. "I would have given it to you on the day, but ..."

"I decided not to have a party – not with everything the way it was." I pause and then continue in an upbeat rush. "But my students were especially well behaved, and I had lunch with Tonks and a lovely dinner with Mum and Dad, so it was quite good."

"Good." Her smile returns. "Now, go on with you – open it."

The paper shreds easily under my eager fingers. The book revealed is a large paperback in brilliant yellow and black. "Algebra for Dummies," I say, not exactly sure what to make of it.

Almost falling off of her chair with laughter, Ginny finally wheezes out, "It's a Muggle thingy – a Muggle Yank thingy that they have in the shops here. Bill thought it was funny, what with it being similar to Arithmancy and all."

"Bill?"

Looking around the room, I see him watching us – he gives a faint smile, which I return.

Even the rather infinitesimal nod from an unusually neutral-faced George seems a glorious thing.

"Oh, Ginny! It's brilliant! Thank you!" I throw my arms around her, and her answering hug, while not as tight as in times past, nonetheless squeezes a few happy tears from my eyes.

"Here now, what's this?"

I look up to see Ernie standing in front of our chairs.

"We've already got one pair of love birds going at it, yeah." He gestures towards Tonks and Kingsley. "Have a bit of pity on us poor single blokes."

We pull apart, and I look at Ginny. "You're still quite keen with that Bat-Bogey Hex, aren't you?"

She laughs and mimes palming her wand.

Ernie's face flushes as he moves away, our laughter following.

"Thanks, Ginny. I really mean it ... just ... thanks."

"Of course 'Mione." She looks quickly towards the settee. "Oh, look – it's started again."

Tonks begins to unwrap the next present, and Ginny is bouncing excitedly beside me, so I know this one is from her.

Pulling out a purple lace corset and suspender set, Tonks immediately changes her hair color to match before turning her smile our way. "Cor, Ginny, it's lovely. And bound to make him do whatever I say. Cheers!"

Laughter ripples through the room, Lavender's shriek and Ernie's wolf whistle outdoing everyone. We've all had our fair share of George's infamous Berryful Birthday Blend, and someone's sorted the presents so that the more risqué ones come last.

Tonks holds the corset up to her front, and Kingsley whispers something into her ear that causes her to chuckle and blush faintly. No mean feat where she's concerned. One of her hands reaches down to briefly squeeze the top of his thigh before she begins placing the lingerie back in its box.

They're so happy together!

If only ...

Party noise swirls around me as people use the pause to chat and refresh drinks, but I close my eyes and allow my vision to fill with Severus's face. His dark eyes are watchful, as he's appeared every time I've seen him this past month. Whether in the corridors, at the High Table, during staff meetings, his eyes constantly watch me.

He's looking for an answer.

George's shout of "Here, there's one more!" snaps me back to my surroundings. "It's for Tonks," he calls joyfully, "but it might be better if Kingsley opens it." He and Bill push a large box garishly decorated in red and gold into the room, maneuvering it until it rests in front of Kingsley.

"Go on, mate. No tricks, I promise." Standing beside George, Bill's grin seems to channel Fred, so it's really no wonder that the highly trained Auror hesitates briefly before shrugging and ripping open the packaging with gusto.

Box within box within box – it's like one of those Russian dolls my Nanna used to have. George laughs every time, with Tonks joining in, but Kingsley looks as if his smile is beginning to slip by the seventh one. Finally, he opens the eleventh box, and his expression changes from one of mild exasperation to shock. Lifting his hand slowly, he raises a pair of small red leather pants into everyone's view – so small, in fact, that I'm not sure they'll fully cover his buttocks. His other hand displays a bottle of edible massage oil brightly labeled "Hot Cinnamon."

Our laughter is spontaneous and deafening, causing Kingsley to look up from his gifts to take in the room. His deep bark of amusement soon joins the rest.

This time, Tonks whispers in his ear as she runs one hand over the leather, pressing it to his chest. The air between them seems to shimmer with a magical haze.

I look at the joy that is Tonks and Kingsley. Their relationship now seems as if it were inevitable.

Only a week and a half ago, Tonks told me over lunch that she'd never been able to talk to a man as easily as she can with him, not even Remus. "It's that he understands me, right? That he thinks like I think, that we can really talk to each another." At my nod, she continued. "And it shows in the bedroom. Remus was tender, and Severus was talented, but Kingsley ..." Her voiced faded as her eyes grew dreamy and her tongue wet her lips.

My stomach tightened when she mentioned Severus.

Talented, eh? Oh, yes – very much so.

"That's what you need, Hermione – someone you can talk to."

My snort of something not quite laughter sounded skeptical even to my own ears. "Right. As if there are that many men who find Arithmancy fascinating."

"It doesn't have to be Arithmancy – an all-around love of swottiness will do." Her grin was pure deviltry. "And I can think of at least one man who could compete with you on sheer know-it-allness. Lots of talent that one has."

I stopped poking at my quiche and set down my fork.

How in the world could she know? Or is she just guessing?

"Tonks." My voice held a warning note.

"Just think about it, Hermione." She flashes me a mischievous grin before diving back into her ploughman's.

And I have.

And I do.

Especially as I watch them today, chatting and laughing and there for each other.

Could Severus and I have – well, not this, exactly – but our version of this?

AN: For fellow Yanks: UK suspenders = US garter belt; UK pants = US underwear. Thanks go to Shiv5468 for making me think about fit, well-oiled men running around in small leather pants.