What did you do?

Hermione levitated her suitcase onto the bed, unzipping it by hand. She loved packing; it allowed her to just let her mind wander. She removed blouse after blouse, refolding them and placing them in the dresser in the corner. She and Ginny had divided up the dresser the first time they had shared the room. She pulled open her designated drawers and placed the blouses into them. Then her knickers, denims, and skirts followed. She had brought all the winter accoutrements that she would need for their day out on Saturday. It was probably insane to be doing everything that she had planned for them, especially when it was going to be freezing outside, but at least one thing was for certain: there would be no lines. Considering she was going to be with Severus, the man who probably invented impatience, no lines was definitely a good thing.

When she finished unpacking, she sat on her bed and fell backwards. Her hair fanned out around her. The ceiling loomed over her head, and she let out a laugh at the posters from Ginny's younger years that covered it. Images of seekers, the Weird Sisters and Harry stared back at her, doing ridiculous actions such as flips in the air, smashing magical guitars and blushing. Ginny really should take down that picture of Harry, especially if she's still seeing Malfoy. I wonder if she will tell her family for the holidays. Oh, god, I hope I'm there to see that! She heard a pop next to her and looked up into the grinning face of George.

"What did you do?" she questioned. That type of grin was never a good thing to see on the face of one George Weasley.

"I don't know what you are talking about, and I am insulted that you would even assume that I would do anything," he said with a shocked expression, holding his hand dramatically over his heart. She sat up and gave him a sharp stare, one of the many things she had picked up from Severus.

Fred sat down behind her on the bed and patted her on the head. "Oh, Hermione, sweet, sweet Hermione."

"Don't even think about it, George Wealsey!"

"Don't think about what?"

"Testing something on me or pinning something on me. No one would believe that I would do anything you would try and pin on me, so just give up." At that moment Ron came running into the room, his cheeks flushed and his hair dyed black.

"What... did... you... do?" he demanded. Hermione looked back at George, and he had his finger pointing towards her, an innocent expression covering his face.

"Oh, yeah, right, like anyone's going to believe that," Ron and Hermione said at the same time.

"Well, look on the bright side, you aren't bright anymore! Oooooh, wait, I have another one: at least no one will know you are a Weasley anymore. It always drives you insane when people just know you are a Weasley." He slapped his knee at his own jokes.

"George, just give it up. It's not funny. Now, how do we fix this? And how did you get it like that without him knowing?"

"Dying potions in candies. You want to be a blonde?" He held out the box of seemingly unsuspecting chocolates, and she shook her head in the negative.

"I'm good, thanks. Perfectly happy being a brunette."

"You aren't so much a brunette as you are a mudette. Is that a word? Well, it is now," George said, answering his own question. Hermione answered him by picking up her pillow and hitting him upside the head with it.

"Would you two focus! George, how do I fix this? Tell me now, dammit!"

"You just have to wait; it will fade out in a few hours or so." He emphasized the point with a shrug.

"For now, you can just be mistaken for Harry," Hermione said with a laugh as she fell backwards off the bed. Her back hit the floor and she just laughed harder. Her mouth was opening and closing like a trout caught on a hook, and George saw the perfect opportunity. He removed a chocolate and tossed it into her mouth when it was open. She closed it again, and it was too late when she realized what had happened; her teeth had already punctured the chocolate, and her mouth filled with delicious raspberry filling. Her laughter stopped and she looked up at him. A bright blonde color seeped from the roots of her hair to the ends of her hair, bleaching out her brunette color and morphing her into a totally different person with just the change of her hair color.

Her eyes smoked at him, almost breathing fire if they could. George saw the snarl slowly forming on her face and disappeared with a whimper and a pop. She looked to Ron and the two victims nodded their agreement. They would get him back, majorly.

*

She had told Severus to pick her up at nine, half hoping that no one would be awake and half hoping that they would. But after the incident with the hair, which apparently didn't disappear after a few hours like he'd said, she was hoping everyone would be asleep. His reaction was not something she was looking forward to. Her new hair color was something entirely too similar to the Malfoy brand of blond, and she feared it might evoke some bad memories for him. She was sitting in the living room, quietly awaiting his arrival, when she heard a soft and timid tap at the door. She opened it and there he stood. She stepped out of the house and shut the door behind her.

"Who are... Hermione? What in the nine levels of hell happened to you?"

"I'm staying at the part-time residence of George Weasley. I'll give you three guesses for what happened to me. But you'll only need one!"

"Ahh, I understand. You almost need a force field to be around him."

"This is true. But at least he is laughing again and getting into mischief. And that's what I have to remind myself when he does stuff like this," she stated as she pulled her hair away from her head, cringing at the color.

"So you are going to let him get away with it?" he questioned, a quirk of his eyebrow emphasizing his question.

"Oh, no, I didn't say that. I am getting him back, but I will do it out of love and with the thought in my mind that he is finally enjoying himself." She smiled brightly at him and took his arm, Apparating him away to their destination.

When they landed, he turned to her and said, "You know you can be quite scary."

"I know, Ron tells me that all the time. Now, let's go. We are going to be late." She grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the alley that they had Apparated into and out into a street in the historical area of London.

*

They sat down on a bench outside of the Tower of London, their bodies just barely touching. The heat from both of them formed a warm bubble around them, keeping them warm and toasty on the chilly winter day. She rested both of her hands at her side, clutching the wooden bench with all her might. She was just short enough that her feet didn't touch the ground, and she swung her feet back and forth like a child on a swing set.

The day had gone well. He had been shocked when she had led him to their first destination, Parliament. Then they had moved onto Big Ben and the London Bridge, spending hours just walking around London and enjoying the surroundings, not worrying about students, papers, or anything else stressful. They had just left the Tower of London, and he hadn't said a word to her. She was starting to get worried.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. She continued to stare at her swinging feet, watching them tick like a pendulum. He turned his head and looked at her, an astonished look on his face.

"What are you apologizing for?" he questioned.

"Well, you've been silent for the last half hour or so; obviously I did something so I am apologizing for it." She looked up at him for a split second and then went back to studying her feet.

"I have been silent because I have been pondering why you would take me to all these places."

"I thought of the idea, since we would both be near London, and then a normally credible source told me that you had always wanted to see all the historical sights of London, so I planned this. I am so sorry. Let's just pretend this day never happened." She heaved a heavy sigh and hung her head.

"No, I enjoyed it very much. Don't second-guess yourself. It has simply brought up difficult things."

"Like?"

"My childhood."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dredge up such hard memories for you; I was trying to be considerate."

"Stop apologizing, damn it!" he exclaimed, startling her. She turned and looked at him. He was staring straight ahead, not meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to raise my voice."

"It's alright, Severus. I understand. You know you can talk to me about it. That's what I'm here for." She placed her hand on his knee, a gesture of comfort. His long, pale fingers covered her small ones. He turned his head and looked at her, standing up and pulling her with him. They began to walk down the street, her hand still clutched into his, the lifeline that connected the two of them.

"Where to next?" he questioned without even looking at her, simply holding her hand and walking.

"Where else do you want to go?"

"When I was growing up, I had an aunt on my father's side. She was kind to me till my father yelled at her, and then she stopped coming to visit. But one time she brought me a book, and it became my favorite book. I could imagine it happening to me. I would lie awake at night blocking the sounds of my father beating my mother with thoughts of flying away to a magical land full of adventure and a family that would love me for me. Those dreams eventually disappeared, replaced with yelling and a verbal torture that not even Voldemort could match. But for those few years I had that hope, the hope of escape, of freedom, of love, of friendship and of safety."

"What book was it?"

"Peter Pan."