Thirteen

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

***

Despite the passage of several months, I awoke two mornings prior to our graduation ceremony to find that it felt like I'd just returned to Hogwarts to begin my seventh year. NEWT testing had since concluded, but I couldn't fathom that I was officially beginning the remainder of my life.

I rose from bed and wandered over to my bedroom window, staring with an odd sensation of emptiness at the castle grounds. Spring had given way to one of the most beautiful summers in recent memory. For the first time in his entire life, Harry had a summer of absolute joy and freedom impending; he and Ron had been accepted into Auror training for that fall, and they both planned to spend their summers peacefully at The Burrow.

For my part, I was due to begin my apprenticeship in slightly over a week. It was a minimum of one year's commitment, and I was already debating whether or not to immediately continue with advanced training in one certain discipline. The particulars of my life as an adult had yet to be resolved, and I couldn't seem to find within myself the energy to imagine a life beyond Hogwarts.

I went down to breakfast that morning to find Ron, Harry, and Ginny laughing delightedly at the Gryffindor table. Ginny may have had a year left to complete her schooling, but to look at her, one wouldn't have guessed the fact. The expression on her face made it glaringly obvious that even she was capable of feeling some brand of childlike enthusiasm I was being denied. I wondered idly how she could be so happy when all I felt was an overwhelming, deep-seated sense of melancholy.

"What's wrong with you?" were the first words out of Ron's mouth when I sat down. "Not going to get all emotional, are you? Honestly, girls..."

"Shut up," I retorted good-naturedly, staring hungrily at a plate of cinnamon buns, mentally deliberating whether or not I should eat one. I'd spent so much time over the past few weeks ensconced in the corner of the library, wholly focused on books, and I'd been eating increasingly rich food as the weather got warmer and the house-elves' spirits rose along with the soaring temperatures. Their breakfasts were now positively decadent.

"You're deciding whether or not you should eat that, aren't you?" Ginny peered at me, far too shrewdly for my liking, in fact. A frown of consternation must have crossed my face because she suddenly burst out into laughter.

"Just eat the damn thing, Hermione. You've got all day to do... whatever it is you sneak off to the Room of Requirement to do for exercise."

That had been precisely my thought as well. I happily reached for the treat.

It took me a moment to register that Ron's and Harry's heads had swiveled in my direction, and Harry choked on his bacon so violently that he spit a piece back out. "Excuse me? What are you sneaking off to do?"

"Nothing," I replied evasively, grabbing the cinnamon bun. "What are you three doing today?"

"Exams," Ginny immediately replied with a long-suffering sigh. She turned to Harry. "You?"

"We were thinking," Ron began with a calculating grin, "that we'd go say hello to the giant squid. You know, now that we can't possibly be expelled and all."

"Idiots," I muttered under my breath, liberally slathering my cinnamon bun with even more frosting. In a louder voice I continued, "Do you really think Professor McGonagall will let you get away with harassing the giant squid just because you're two days from graduating?"

Ron made a noise of grudging assent. "Y'know, she's right, mate. We really ought to hold off... Say, we could come back night of graduation!"

"Oh, for the love of God..." I downed my glass of milk and glanced over at Ginny. "You're not in on this, are you?"

"Merlin, no. How stupid do you think I am?"

We were shaking our heads and chuckling at the universally acknowledged stupidity of teenage boys when a large, dark owl veered dangerously in my direction and deposited an official-looking envelope onto my plate. Puzzled, I put aside the remainder of my bun and opened it, my anxiety increasing exponentially when I realized that the letter was from my parents.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, leaning over to sneak a peek at the missive. My parents had intended to attend the enormous graduation party the Weasleys were hosting for the three of us, but as it turned out, my mother's mother had fallen terribly ill just the night before.

"Oh, no..." I breathed, continuing. Apparently the doctors were aghast at her sudden decline. "My parents can't come to the party," I admitted to the worried gazes of my three friends. "It's my grandmother...she's very sick."

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry." Ginny was searching my eyes anxiously, likely hoping to discern whether or not the news was worse than I was willing to reveal.

"They say they'll come up for graduation, but they want to get immediately back to London, so they can't come for the party... And I can't go see her! I start my apprenticeship soon." I tossed the letter onto the table and groaned, pressing my fingertips into my temples. Harry ran a warm and comforting hand across my back.

"There's nothing you can do to get out of the first couple of days?"

I shook my head. I was surprised to find only a feeling of silent acceptance settling over my stomach rather than the churning fear I had expected. There truly was no other course for me; I couldn't miss the introductory days of my apprenticeship, and I especially couldn't risk asking for a special allowance when I was attending on a scholarship.

"I couldn't possibly. How would that reflect on the Consortium and Severus? They've done so much for me..." Across from me, Ron's blue eyes, so kindly and soft moments prior, assumed a steely look. Ginny was regarding at me with something akin to pity, and Harry's grip had tightened painfully on my shoulder.

"Hermione..." Ron cocked his head to one side, and his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. I got the impression he was reining in the impulse to grab my shoulders and shake me soundly. "This thing... It's still going on?"

"What?" I asked distractedly, still preoccupied with thoughts of my grandmother's health.

"Did you even hear yourself a moment ago?" Harry's voice was quiet but unrelentingly harsh.

"No... Honestly, what is wrong with you two? I just said..."

"You called him Severus." Ginny leaned forward in an attempt to keep my gaze locked with hers. "Hermione, you just called him by his first name. Are you two... Are you supposed to be doing that?"

"No," I admitted, feeling my cheeks flushing hotly. "I'm sorry; it just slipped."

"Are you two on a first-name basis now?" Harry barged ahead, his voice becoming alarmingly loud. I felt bile rise in my throat when several people at a nearby table turned to stare at us inquisitively. "Are you seeing one another? In that way?"

"What?" I exclaimed. "No! I never said anything of the sort. It just slipped out, and I told you I'm sorry. There's no need to interrogate me."

"Look, Hermione, it was bad enough when this was just a little... infatuation." Ron was twisting his fork in his hands, the grip of his knuckles shockingly white. "But when you start calling him by his first name... Are you in a relationship with him? Is that what this is?"

"What if I were?" I snapped. "Would that bother you? Would it destroy your precious image of him as one-dimensional greasy bat with nothing in the way of human thoughts or emotions? Is that how you still see him?

"Are you two really still that immature?" I finished softly, trailing off when I saw the devastating answer to my own question reflected in their eyes. I'd been loath to entertain over the past few months the idea that the odd camaraderie he and I had shared over dinner might be of any import because I couldn't imagine my friends would be accommodating of such a warming between the two of us. Thus I had never allowed myself to dwell on the possible gravity of my friends' reactions were we to ever pursue anything beyond mere acquaintanceship.

I had been foolish, I realized as the air gushed out of my lungs in resignation, to think that they might be agreeable to the very idea. They had indeed deemed it simply a phase, and they were repulsed by the thought that it continued still.

Ginny's expression was the only one of the three even remotely welcoming at the moment. Her petite features carried a mingled look of pity and remorse, and I though that surely she, who had been my confidante over the course of the year, would have realized that it wasn't simply a phase. But perhaps she did, and she simply couldn't bring herself to risk coming between the boys and the notions they clung to so childishly and pettily.

Unable to respond, I fished around in my small school bag. I had brought it downstairs with me thinking that I would enjoy a day basking in the sun while reading and taking notes on several tomes covering medicinal potions and clinical magic practice I'd encountered in the library; but at that moment I was far more concerned about the small, rather abused piece of parchment stuffed into one corner. I pulled it out and glanced it over, my heart racing.

Hermione,

Molly Weasley

I shoved the parchment back in my bag, fastened the clasp, and rose to my seat so quickly that I nearly upset my dishes. Judging by the gape-mouthed, rather fish-like look on Harry's face, he'd been preparing to ask me a question...or had been badgering me for some time now while I ignored him entirely...and his brows knotted together in annoyance when I rose without so much as an errant apology.

"Where are you going?" he demanded. I glanced up at table, raking over the line of professors until I arrived at the very last seat, which was achingly empty. Torn between wanting to see him, a staple of my formative years, scowling in his normal seat and the desire and nervousness I felt over seeking him out elsewhere, I turned to leave.

"Hermione," Ginny called, a tone of warning in her voice, "what are you doing?"

"Something I should have done weeks ago," I yelled back, allowing the door of the Great Hall to slam shut decisively behind me.

***

The dungeons were damp, as usual, the walls literally running with condensation. I approached his office quickly and purposefully, not allowing myself to entertain second thoughts. In two days' time I would officially be a graduate of Hogwarts, and we would have no further connection as teacher and pupil.

I rapped lightly on the door, keenly listening for the sound of movement within. He was a preternaturally quiet human being...it was virtually impossible to locate him by sound alone, as many students pursuing illicit activities had discovered over the years...and I could see no light emanating from beneath the door, so I had no idea whether or not I'd sought him out in vain. Finally, however, I caught the faintest sound of rustling and a voice issued forth.

"For the last time, Lupin, I have no interest in your pathetic attempts at offering advice, however apt the situation may be. You have three seconds to remove your presence from my door before I reduce you to your constituent elements," he growled in a voice so forceful it shook the heavy door on its hinges.

I recoiled, temporarily unbalanced. It took a moment for my determination to reassert itself, whereupon I called softly, "Sir, it's Hermione Granger. May I have a word with you?"

The rustling ceased immediately, and the silence that filled the air was wrought with discomfort. I found it almost amusing to discover that I had managed to render him speechless. The embarrassment seeping through the cracks of his office door was almost palpable. A lightly murmured, barely audible word released the lock on the door, and it swung open with an annoyed creak.

I stepped in on my tiptoes, fearing that given his current mood I would soon be nothing but a quivering pile of carbon atoms laced with phosphorus and nitrogen. His gaze was not altogether that menacing, however, and so I advanced toward him and boldly took a seat across from his desk. He had several large books laid out before him as well as a very thick sheaf of parchments; it took every iota of my self-control not to sit forward and peer at the top sheets. The thought that he might be poring over research was nearly enough to make me salivate.

"Miss Granger." For him, the tone was positively welcoming. "I apologize. I mistakenly assumed you were Professor Lupin... returned to exhort the choir once again," he finished on a mutter. I had to lean forward to catch the final words.

"Pardon me?"

"Miss Granger," he reiterated in a far more brisk and standoffish tone, "what do you require? I am very busy, as you have undoubtedly surmised."

I sucked in a full, deep breath, praying the movement was not as obvious as I feared, and then let the words spill forth precisely as I'd rehearsed them. "Well, sir, Arthur and Molly Weasley are throwing a graduation party for Ron, Harry, and me... They've invited all the Order members, as I'm sure you've heard."

He offered me a terse recline of his head in acknowledgment.

"Well, I wasn't sure if anyone had come to invite you personally, so I wanted to ask you myself. It would mean a lot to me if you could attend." I stumbled through the final words hastily, determined that I should explicitly offer my personal desire for him to be present. It was more difficult than I'd anticipated to express the words in a normally paced and modulated tone with his dark eyes locked unwaveringly on mine.

"Miss Granger..."

"Hermione," I insisted intrepidly, my throat constricting at the thought that he might throw me out for sheer impudence. "I'm only here for two more days, and all the other teachers are calling me by my first name since exams finished."

It wasn't entirely true, of course...only Professors Sprout and Vector and Madam Pomfrey had taken to regularly referring to me by my given name since the conclusion of exams, and Madam Pomfrey had been freely doing so for months, so she hardly qualified as an appropriate example.

He regarded me searchingly for a moment. I could almost distinguish the deep irises from the pupils as his eyes flickered over my face.

"Very well. Hermione." The low caress of his voice over the syllables of my name made the hair at the nape of my neck stand on end. I realized too late that he'd noticed my instinctive reaction to his voice; something dark and liquid briefly flared to life in his eyes. "As I was saying... I am flattered by your invitation, but a Weasley graduation party is not an event I would particularly enjoy. Of that I am certain," he concluded wryly, and I chuckled despite myself. One side of his lips curled slightly in the tiniest, sexiest smile I'd ever seen. I spared myself a moment to regain my regular breathing pattern.

"I realize that, sir, but really, it won't be that bad. I'm sure the boys will be off playing Quidditch the entire time, so you won't have to put up with them. And I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would love it if you agreed to go. They would be thrilled."

I placed lingering emphasis on they, knowing perfectly well that with his sharp ears and acumen, he would never overlook the significance. He sat back in his chair, resting one long leg across the other, and I watched the montage of emotions and indecision flashing across his eyes even while his face remained characteristically stony.

"Very well. I shall be there. But I make no promises..." He could see me opening my mouth to express my thanks, and he held up one slender finger in forewarning.

"...as to how long you'll stay?" I finished, unable to restrain my smile. Again I fully expected him to hurl me from the office for my cheek, but he simply nodded, a slower, almost languorous movement this time. I rose and offered him my biggest, brightest smile.

"Thank you, sir. It means a great deal to me...to everyone...that you'll be there."

I exited the room, suppressing the agonizing urge to break out into a wild, triumphant dance.

***

I was absurdly grateful when graduation passed, unremarkable and wholly without incident. We had all subconsciously expected, I think, for something terrible, or at least unpleasant, to occur on the day The

Boy Who Lived graduated from Hogwarts, a living hallmark of the ultimate victory of impure blood; but the entire day progressed as smoothly as anyone could have desired. When the ceremony had reached its conclusion, Professor McGonagall could be heard heaving an enormous sigh of relief before ushering everyone over to the buffet table.

Thus I found myself the day after, completely absorbed in what I was doing, at The Burrow helping Molly Weasley to decorate for the party. Ginny was aiding with the cooking, a task I would have botched entirely if they'd put me to it, so I had been assigned to setting the table in the garden. Fred and George had graciously agreed to de-gnome it the day before, but I still had to kick aside a few of the tenacious little creatures as I circled the gigantic table, carefully arranging the place settings.

Harry and Ron...who had been nothing but an absolute nuisance since graduation, when they'd unequivocally declared themselves adults who did not need to take orders from anyone...had disappeared earlier that morning, most likely to play Quidditch. I had been aggravated by their lack of respect for Mrs. Weasley, but she seemed perfectly accepting of their behavior.

"They're not like you," she'd explained with an indulgent smile. "The idea of being adult and independent is completely new to them. I doubt they think beyond the next ten minutes."

It was rather foreign for me as well, I thought dizzily, dwelling on the small flat a few blocks from St. Mungo's that awaited me. The stipend provided by the Consortium had been far more generous than I'd originally thought. The day before graduation, I had received a letter from the Romanian Minister of Magic...signed with a simple and affectionate, Best wishes, Marina...informing me that the remainder of the money, as it was not required to cover my tuition, was free to rent a living space for myself if I so chose. When she'd inquired if a very nice, very spacious place several blocks from the hospital was satisfactory to me, I could do nothing but return her inquiry with a letter of highly unprofessional, far too effusive thanks. I still couldn't believe my luck.

"Hermione!"

I started and turned around, barely catching one of Mrs. Weasley's dishes before it clattered to the table, and caught sight of Mr. Weasley jogging excitedly towards me. He was carrying in his right hand a rather large Muggle CD player, a sight so incongruous that I immediately broke out into irrepressible giggles.

"Look what I've fixed up!" he proclaimed proudly, letting it thump down onto the table. I quashed the urge to cringe when he upset several of my geometrically perfect place settings. "But I can't get it to work on electity...electority..."

"Electricity," I corrected through my convulsions of laughter.

"Yes, that's the stuff. Anyway, I couldn't get that to work, but look what this wonderful chap at work found for me..."

He pried open the back of the device rather clumsily to reveal a standard set of batteries.

"Bacteries!"

"Batteries," I replied automatically, beaming at him. "That's great, Mr. Weasley! Do you have any music to play on it?"

"Well, no," he confessed, his face falling piteously. "See, I found some of these"...he pulled a tape out of one of his pockets, a terribly battered old thing..."but they don't fit."

I gave a cry of alarm and stopped his hand before he could shove the tape into the CD player, concerned that he might damage the equipment. "It doesn't take tapes, Mr. Weasley. Is takes CDs. Do you know what those are?"

"No." His crestfallen look was beginning to rip into my heart.

"Well, here..." I handed him the last few plates and napkins. "I'll tell you what: you finish setting the table for me, Mr. Weasley, and I'll Floo back to my parents' and grab a couple of CDs. Then I'll show you how it works. Okay?"

His eyes lit up like a child's. "That sounds terrific!" he agreed, applying himself enthusiastically to the table settings.

I dashed through the kitchen, yelling a quick, "I'll be right back!" to Ginny's questioning shout, and grabbed a handful of Floo powder off the mantel. Seconds later I was standing in my parents' living room, wondering what on earth I ought to play for the people gathered at the party. I somehow doubted that the majority of the Order of the Phoenix would be at all familiar with popular Muggle artists, and I hadn't the vaguest idea what would be universally enjoyable to all present.

I tramped up the stairs, trying in vain to remember what albums I owned. I'd only had opportunities to buy music during my summer stays at home, and while I truly did love listening to music, I simply hadn't had the money or the time required to amass a decent collection. I regretted that deeply at times, but there was nothing to be done about it now. I filed through my meager music collection, vetoing nearly everything for fear that one person or the other would find it intolerable.

I finally settled on a few basic staples and then returned to the Weasleys'. I found Ginny in the kitchen. Mr. Weasley, presumably having heard the undignified whooshing and stumbling of my arrival, ran into the kitchen, lugging the beloved CD player.

Ginny dusted off her hands and meandered over, peering curiously at the items I carried. "Are those CDs?" she gasped, her eyes widening appreciatively.

I nodded, pulling out a U2 CD and popping it in. "Did Harry tell you about them?"

"Yes! Can I see it?" I handed her the CD case while explaining to Mr. Weasley how the laser was capable of reading microscopic variations in the topography of the disks, translating the resulting signals into sounds.

"Fascinating," he murmured repeatedly to himself, poking at the various buttons. I laughed and hit the play button, turning up the volume so that everyone in the house would be able to hear it.

Ginny read eagerly through the lyrics as the first song played. "Sing with me!" she cried, glancing down the page in order to locate the proper point in the song. I helped her to orient her gaze on the page. She latched onto the lyrics with shocking accuracy and immediately began belting them out. I followed suit as we began dancing around freely, giving no thought to the fact that it was fast approaching three o'clock, and the other guests would be arriving at any moment.