Twelve

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. I intend no infringement and am making no profit.

***

Ginny practically shoved me through the door to my room and then proceeded to demand that I get in the shower. When I made to protest, she silenced me with a glower and pointed forcefully in the direction of my bathroom.

"Go! You've got forty-five minutes. Why are you arguing with me?"

Terrified beyond reason of the thunderous expression on her face, I meekly shut my mouth and did as I'd been told. Not ten minutes passed before a small hand parted the shower curtains and thrust itself inside, causing me to shriek.

"Stop screaming and use this," she bellowed. I took the object and her hand reappeared again, sporting yet another container. Growling in frustration, I applied every one of the products she handed me, wondering why I allowed myself to be bossed around when all our efforts would come to nothing.

"You do realize that this does not constitute a date, right?" I called through the bathroom door when I had emerged from the shower, wrapping a towel around my body. "You don't have to do all this, Gin. I appreciate it, but it's not like anything can possibly..."

I shrieked again when the door flew open, and Luna stood there staring at me. "You dropped your towel," she stated matter-of-factly, and I gasped when I realized that she was right.

"Luna, aren't you supposed to stay in the hospital wing? I thought you were sick."

"Ginny told me you needed help. I'll go back when we're done." She looked pale and rather wan, but she was not trembling or excessively weak. I made a mental note to admonish Ginny when I returned for taking a chance on her health.

I was standing in my bathroom naked, Luna regarding me quite nonchalantly, when Ginny reentered.

"Put this on."

Neither seemed fazed by my nudity, so I shook my head in amazement and did as I was told. We were all girls, I reminded myself; it was nothing they hadn't seen before. When I finished applying another round of her ridiculous products, Ginny eyed me critically and then beamed.

"You're so pretty, Hermione. You should dress up more often."

"Not when it takes so long to do all this," I grumbled, reaching for my towel. Seventh year had only heightened my determination that it was absurd to waste all one's time in the bathroom when there were chores to be completed. Now, however, I was grateful for what I'd always deemed one of Ginny's more frivolous habits.

Ginny's hand caught mine and stopped it short. "You're dry enough. Let's get you dressed."

She'd taken several outfits from my closet and displayed them on my bed for us to pick and choose. Luna had brought her dress, which was indeed quite lovely, but it didn't take long for us to reach a consensus. They both loved the sheer novelty of the black Muggle business suit my mother had bought me over the summer, and Ginny insisted excitedly that she could definitely "do something" with it.

I pulled on the suit, uncomfortably aware that while I had been diligent in my exercises that winter, I had developed enough over the course of the school year to make the trousers fit quite snugly indeed. I was about to bemoan the additional weight when I caught Ginny and Luna grinning at me.

"You've filled out a bit, Hermione," Ginny teased gently, and I glowered at her. She had always been enviably voluptuous in all the right places, but up until just before my eighteenth birthday, I'd had hips that were far too wide to qualify as a teenager's, no waist to boast of, and absolutely nothing on top. Somehow, caught up in my busy schedule and preoccupied with my duties as Head Girl, I'd failed to notice that I was finally sporting a reasonable facsimile of a woman's body. My upper dimensions finally seemed proportionate to my lower.

And, paradoxically, I didn't like it.

"Damn it," I muttered irritably, wondering if the jacket would even fit. "Why didn't you two tell me? I would've had Professor McGonagall make that dress looser..."

"Are you crazy?" Ginny demanded. "You looked fantastic."

"It doesn't look good!"

"I imagine Professor Snape would beg to differ." Luna's voice was dreamy, but her tone had a teasing, suggestive edge to it that nearly made me choke on my own inhaled breath.

"Okay, look, you two: I am going to have dinner with the most prestigious professional society for Potions masters in the world," I hissed. "You can't send me out there looking like I'm trying to seduce someone!"

"Who said anything about that?" Ginny handed me a lovely red silk blouse that I didn't recognize; it obviously belonged to either her or Luna. "Here. That's mine, so we know it will fit you. And I'm sure the jacket will be fine. We can always ask Professor McGonagall to loosen it..."

I felt my cheeks beginning to burn at the thought of having to seek out the Headmistress for such an errand. "No," I breathed with relief, pulling on both the blouse and then my black heels. "It fits, thank God. Okay, am I finished?" I ran a hand absently through my hair, realizing that I needed to fasten it back somehow.

"One more thing. Luna brought this." Ginny motioned to Luna, who held up a breathtakingly exquisite Japanese hair ornament, a lovely black and red fan with gold accents. I gasped, dumbstruck.

"My dad brought it back from Japan over Christmas," she explained. "It should look nice with your blouse."

"Luna, I can't accept that. That must have cost your dad a fortune!"

She shrugged. "There are protective charms on it. I wouldn't worry about it." I tried to protest again, but she waved me off while Ginny pulled up my hair and suspended it, deftly inserting the hair ornament. A quick look in the mirror revealed that it looked even more beautiful on than off, and the suit did indeed seem to fit rather nicely. It threw off my equilibrium momentarily to realize that the new shape of my body really belonged to me. I felt disoriented, trapped in an older woman's body, unable to reconcile years of adolescent desires with their actual physical fulfillment.

Ginny smiled at me benevolently. "You look great. You'll get used to it, I promise."

I returned her smile gratefully. She'd been the embodiment of every boy's enticing fantasy when she'd developed rather early on in her school years, and they hadn't stopped talking about her and taking notice of her since. I privately thought it was a wonder that Harry hadn't been driven positively mad with jealousy, constantly reminded of the force of the other boys' admiration for his girlfriend.

I found, upon further inspection in the mirror, that I didn't mind the rather softer look of my body now. Running had developed the lines of muscle in my calves, barely hinted at beneath the fall of the trousers, and I was secretly thrilled with the contrast between my slimmer waist and the more pronounced curve of my hips.

They pronounced me finished, and while I resumed spluttering uncomfortable exclamations about their kindness, they dragged me bodily from the room and hauled me off to the castle foyer. I had at least had the presence of mind to grab my dress cloak and a pair of gloves. By the time we came within sight of Professors McGonagall and Snape, who were waiting in the entranceway, I had almost managed to convince myself that I was prepared for the evening.

"He's staring at you," Ginny whispered conspiratorially as we hastened down the stairs. I was doing my utmost not to stare myself, so I hadn't noticed that I had neglected to actually put on my dress cloak. The way my hips naturally swayed as I walked in the heels suddenly seemed ludicrously overexaggerated. I fumbled with the cloak, pulling it around my body.

He was indeed looking me over. I hadn't realized how inappropriate the gesture must have seemed until we landed before them, and Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly and ostentatiously, an action entirely too reminiscent of Umbridge. She, too, seemed to realize it belatedly, and she cringed slightly.

"You look wonderful, Miss Granger. My congratulations on such an admirable achievement. Miss Lovegood, have I been misinformed, or should you not be in the hospital wing?"

Luna seemed unperturbed by the harsh expression on Professor McGonagall's face. She nodded and gave me a quick hug before heading slowly back to the hospital wing...and, undoubtedly, Madam Pomfrey's incomparable wrath. I sincerely hoped she would not be disappointed with me for being the reason Luna had so quickly disregarded her own health.

"Thank you," I managed to get out, pulling on my gloves. "Professor, I'm sorry I won't be able to make it to help supervise the dance. Oh, and Gin"...I felt terrible over reneging on my promise to Ron..."tell Ron I'm sorry I won't be able to dance with him..."

"I'll have you back in time for your precious dance," Severus murmured.

"Too right you will," Professor McGonagall murmured, and he shot her a very sharp look, which she returned with a challenging glower of her own. I followed the volley of expressions between the two, aware that Ginny was shaking with silent giggling beside me.

"Very well. Enjoy yourselves. And Miss Granger..."

I was fully expecting something as demeaning as "Please behave yourself." Given my inappropriate display at the Yule Ball, it had to be enormously difficult for her to condone our unsupervised absence for the course of several hours; I deserved any reprimand she might send my way. A muscle in the corner of her jaw twitched unpleasantly, but her tightly pursed lips gradually slackened into the barest smile.

"Congratulations again. Have a wonderful time."

"Thank you, ma'am." The door slammed shut behind us, and we were overtaken by vast clouds of thick, swirling snow. I burrowed deeply into my cloak, clutching it more tightly against my body while keeping an eye on Severus' back.

***

The walk to the edge of the grounds was misery itself. When we finally exited the gates, and he had located a reasonably comfortable place to stand on the leeward side of a large tree, I emerged turtle-style from my cloak and tried to speak through the irrepressible chattering of my teeth.

"Sir... If you don't mind my asking..."

"As if I could possibly prevent you, Miss Granger," he conceded with a sigh, waiting expectantly.

"Why aren't we using the Floo?"

"Security concerns prevent the Consortium from allowing the use of Floo travel this year," he replied brusquely. "We are not yet certain that there will be no retaliation by... hostile parties."

I surmised that he was referring to the fact that they were awarding a significant sum of money to a Muggle-born student in commemoration of the end of a war fought largely to protect the rights and welfare of Muggle-born and half-blood citizens. No doubt renegade Death Eaters still roamed free, desperate to exact their revenge through any pathetic means they could find.

"Have you your Apparition license, Miss Granger?"

"Yes."

"Have you Apparated a distance greater than several kilometers yet?"

"No..." I hadn't ever had reason to Apparate all that much since successfully completing my Ministry-approved test.

"Very well. I shan't risk splinching you on your first try. Come here."

I must have stared rather unattractively...gaped, really...because he released a disgusted snort.

"We will have to use Side-Along Apparition, and that, as your unparalleled intellect might recall, requires physical contact," he snapped. I jumped to obey, and when I was within several feet of him, a long, black-clad arm snaked out and wrapped itself firmly around my back.

He Apparated us smoothly, the typical roiling unpleasantness allayed by the sensation of once again being snugly pressed into him. I happily drank in his scent and warmth, reluctant to part with his body when we landed firmly in an area I could not immediately recognize.

I followed his long, silent strides down several winding side streets until we intersected with a much larger boulevard, revealing a cityscape that made me gasp with unrestrained delight.

"Venice!" I cried happily. Though it was very likely my overactive and now rather overfed imagination running rampant, I thought I heard him chuckle. I stared with unabashed awe at the astonishing beauty of the buildings we passed as I followed him into what was unmistakably the Wizarding portion of the city.

Shaking hands with the most prominent and renowned Potions masters in the world was an emotionally taxing ordeal indeed. By the time we had negotiated our way through the large crowd to our assigned table, I had met the researchers, authors, and editors of the most prestigious periodicals and journals imaginable, along with more than a few witches and wizards who had ascended to administrative and bureaucratic positions of great fame and influence. Romania's current Minister of Magic was, I soon discovered, formerly a Potions mistress, a stunningly beautiful woman who comported herself with distinctly patrician elegance, and she seemed to take an instant liking to me.

After wracking my brain for the strength of intellect to hold my own in several lengthy conversations, we were finally able to retire to the table. He seemed rather stiff, almost tense, and I sensed that he was not altogether greatly thrilled to be visiting former colleagues. Though I did my best not to reveal the fact, it was impossible for me not to take notice of the disapproving and at times outrightly hostile glances he was provoking.

"Sir," I began haltingly when we were seated, unsure how to proceed. "Thank you for submitting my potion. I... You've really saved me," I finished lamely. He took a large gulp of water, an alarmingly nervous gesture for the normally implacable greasy bat of the dungeons, confirming in my mind that he was decidedly unhappy to be present.

"I was bombarded by requests from the Board of Directors to submit the best sample of my students' work, Miss Granger. Nothing more."

It was positively inarticulate for him, and the venom in his voice lacked any real conviction. Sensing that it would be best to avoid any topic directly relating to myself, I chose instead to inquire about the next most intriguing thing at my disposal: his hair.

"Might I ask..." I began, and I came perilously close to upsetting my glass of water when he barked out a laugh.

"Just ask, Granger. I am under no delusions that I'll escape this night without being subject to at least several thousand of your incessant questions."

"Well, then..." I grinned despite myself, stubbornly deciding to take the remark as a compliment. "Why did you cut your hair? It's very..."

"Not me," he supplied roughly, and I clammed up. "I was issued several very poorly veiled threats by the Chairman to distance myself as much as possible from my... appearance of recent years."

An astoundingly personal confession, I thought dazedly, and quite freely given. I found that my throat had constricted, suddenly dry. I had hoped to relieve the tension, but he appeared more tightly strung than ever.

"I'm sorry," I offered, my voice cracking slightly. "I quite liked it before. Well, that is...I mean...I like it now, too..."

He sighed. "Quite a compliment, Granger. You'll forgive me if I don't feel the need to return the favor and fawn over yours as well." His gaze darted slightly to the left, temporarily arrested by the Japanese fan, truly the only standout feature of my entire ensemble.

I began to feel defensive, but I waited until he had finished rearranging the food that had suddenly appeared on his plate before retorting, "Luna lent it to me, and it was very kind of her. Her father brought it back from Japan."

"I did not say that I did not like it." His voice was impossibly soft and dark. Every hair on my arms stood on end, and I was tremendously grateful for the omnipresent full glass of ice water. I immediately downed several large gulps, unsure how to respond. The implications of the statement had set a low, steady heat thrumming in my lower body.

I was saved from the further mortification of struggling through a response when a loud tinkling announced the first speaker of the evening. As we enjoyed our dinners, we were treated to countless boring speeches by the more prominent members, followed by an impossibly unemotional and, frankly, laughable eulogy for a brilliant colleague who had been killed in the final struggle against Voldemort. An uncomfortable silence issued when the eulogizer's malevolent gaze landed on Severus, and several people in the back commenced whispering maliciously amongst themselves.

The Romanian Minister of Magic...whom I then decided was a wonderful woman indeed...rose hastily to her feet and crossed over to take her place at the podium.

"And now," she began, "I would like everyone to wish very warm greetings to this year's winner of our students' brewing contest, Hogwarts School's very talented Head Girl, Miss Hermione Granger."

Polite and surprisingly full applause followed. She motioned me up toward the podium, so I rose shakily to my feet and made my way up there to accept the symbolic plaque handed to me by one of the many nondescript, middle-aged wizards filling the room.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger," she said brightly, addressing the room as well as me. "And if I might ask, what are your plans for apprenticeship?"

"I've been accepted to pursue an apprenticeship under the Healers at St. Mungo's," I replied. Turning to regard the crowd for the first time, I realized that I was garnering more than my fair share of incredulous stares at well. I suspected that many of them were familiar with my less than illustrious appearance in the Daily Prophet.

"A very challenging curriculum," she praised me, and a wave of assent ran through the murmuring crowd. "Congratulations to you, my dear, and congratulations to your instructor as well. Professor Snape, you've trained a wonderful student and potion-maker."

He rose slowly at her gesticulation and gave a short bow. I was pleased with the enthusiasm of the applause he received considering the looks they'd been hurling at him only moments prior.

I escaped quickly to my seat, plotting desperately to find exactly the right words to express my gratitude. If they were not going to acknowledge him beyond the barest token of appreciation, I was going to see to it that he was made aware of what a difference he had truly made.

***

It was evident that there were several hours yet remaining in the scheduled activities for the evening. Once dinner had concluded...the majority of which I spent alternately staring at gourmet cuisine that did little to interest me and attempting to study his face...he began to affect the appearance of someone who was preparing to leave. He did not fidget...such an ungainly term could never have been applied to him...but it was clear that he was anxious to leave. I watched the way the short strands of hair gently framing his face shifted as he turned in his seat, set into sharp contrast by the light, tasteful silver detailing along the collar of his robes. It struck me that the sallowness of his skin was little benefited by the harsh, cold tones of the silver, and I found myself wondering if gold might not suit him better.

Sunlight, for that matter, would have suited him better. When his dark eyes met mine, I thought, not for the first time, that he had the profile and long-neglected coloring of a man of Mediterranean blood who had succeeded in drastically altering his natural appearance by refusing to emerge beyond ground level.

"I am prepared to leave when you are, Miss Granger," he said neutrally. I was touched by the conciliation in his voice; I genuinely believed he would have allowed me to stay and enjoy my enchantment with such a new experience, much though he wanted to escape. I nodded.

"I'd like to go too, please. I did promise Ron..."

His lips curled scornfully, but he said nothing. We rose and made our way out of the room, sparing a few goodbye wishes to the few people who cared to notice our departure. When we were within sight of the door, the Romanian Minister of Magic noticed us making our hasty escape and walked over, her tall, slender frame looking impossibly delicate in the dim light.

"Severus," she called lightly, her seductive accent sibilantly caressing the consonants of his name. Despite my immediate and violently jealous reaction to her behavior, I mentally filed away the manner in which she'd spoken his name. It was enough to make a lesser man collapse to his knees.

He, of course, merely nodded and halted.

"If I might have a word with your lovely student?" She was a perfect match for him, and I was terrified to look at his reaction lest I find his eyes lingering on her a bit too long. She had long, thick black hair arranged beautifully at the nape of her neck, and she couldn't have been more than three or four inches shorter than him. She possessed that particular sort of towering, immortal beauty, reminiscent of a Muggle supermodel, that made girls want to skulk in dark corners and throttle her as she passed.

Which was, I supposed, why it was so difficult to find myself really liking her. She'd been friendly to me when we first arrived and had done her part to save Severus the humiliation of his colleagues' whispering and jeering. Now, however, she had a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Come, Miss Granger." She led me a few paces away so we could murmur in private. Startled that she'd even requested a private audience with me, I followed.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I wanted to congratulate you again. Your potion was truly remarkable." She smiled, perfect white teeth gleaming through full, deep red lips. The woman was shockingly beautiful. "Severus is fortunate to have had such a talented student. I regret," she continued with an air of disdain, "that he did not offer you an apprenticeship long before now, but he has never been amenable to taking on apprentices."

"I don't mind," I assured her, wholly sincere. "While studying Potions would interest me, of course, I'm much more interested in being a Healer."

"I'm glad. This world could use the talents of a smart and compassionate young woman like you. And I'm glad to see"...that Weasleyesque, trouble-making glint in her sharp eyes had reemerged..."that he seems to have taken a liking to you."

"Excuse me?"

She placed a friendly hand on my shoulder. "I realize that it was probably very embarrassing for you to come here tonight, given that horrible Umbridge woman's article in your... Daily Prophet, is it? But I would like to offer you some measure of comfort. That article may have done you far more good than you think. Don't give up on him just yet."

"What?" Was she encouraging my less than condoned feelings for a teacher?

"Go on," she replied mysteriously, motioning for me to return to Severus, who was leaning against the wall near the door, arms crossed disinterestedly over his chest. "I imagine it is time for you to return to your school. You have a curfew, I assume?"

"Yes... but..."

"My dear, you are a lovely girl," she replied, smiling, her fingers lightly brushing my shoulder. "I have three young daughters myself, all growing up to be very much like you. In my experience, girls of your intellect rarely consider themselves to have much to offer a man emotionally, or in any other respect. But Severus..."

She shot him a bright smile, and he glowered at her.

"Ah, I never tire of harassing that man... He will never admit it to you freely, but you, my dear, are precisely his type."

I couldn't suppress a knowing smile, and she laughed delightedly. "You see! And you know it, too. I have never seen him so polite and accommodating with a woman. I suspect you have one foot in the door already."

She bade me a gracious goodbye, and I stammered inadequate thanks as she floated off, her expensive designer dress robes trailing behind her. I was struck by the sudden clarity of finally having found someone whom I could view as inspiring, an idol of sorts...someone who had made an immense success of herself professionally and yet was so kind, so unassumingly beautiful, that she took my breath away. It was virtually impossible for me to imagine that a mother of three girls struggling to balance such a busy lifestyle could possibly be so serene.

Shaking my head, absolutely confounded, I wandered back to Severus. I was too caught up in my own revelations to truly appreciate the frisson of awareness that ran through my body when his fingers landed lightly at the small of my back, guiding me from the building.