Chapter 37

Disclaimer: To reiterate, that which you recognise belongs to JKR and her assignees. The plot and anything you don't recognise belongs to me.

Author's Note: Kudos to noybate for her help as the final beta for this story.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

"We're so happy you could join us for dinner, Hermione dear," Molly gushed as she opened the door and greeted Hermione. She took the bottle of inexpensive wine Hermione had brought and beamed as though she saw some greater significance in it. "Ron!" she called up the stairs. "Hermione's here, dear."

"Coming," he yelled, his footsteps heavy on the stair treads.

"Isn't there any one else here?" Hermione asked, hoping the answer would be 'yes'.

"No, dear," Molly answered with a small smile. "It's just Arthur, me, you and Ron. I thought we could eat in the kitchen. It's warmer."

"Yes, of course." Hermione tilted her cheek to Ron's lips as he bent to kiss her. "Hello, Ron."

* * *

Dinner over, Molly shooed Ron and Hermione into the sitting room while she and Arthur cleaned up the kitchen. Ron nervously shifted in his chair as he listened to his parents in the other room and cleared his throat.

"Er... Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron."

"Could you... would you..."

"What, Ron?"

"Wouldyoumarryme?"

Hermione parsed his rambled sentence and smiled sadly. "No, Ron, I can't."

"That's great! Wait... what?"

"I can't marry you," she repeated. "I don't love you like that."

"It's Draco the Ferret Malfoy, isn't it?" he all but yelled, jumping to his feet. "You're not going to marry him, are you?"

"WHAT!" Hermione was furious. "Just who are you to tell me what I am and am not going to do? Just because I love you as a friend doesn't mean I love Draco any more than that. Where the hell did you get that idea?" Her wand out and pointed at Ron, she leapt to her feet. "If that's what you think of me, then you can go to Hell!" she yelled and abruptly Apparated.

"FINE!" Ron yelled as though she could still hear him. Molly and Arthur rushed in just as he sat back down. Looking up at them with tears in his eyes, he said, "She said no."

Molly sat down and cradled his head to her chest in comfort. "She wasn't good enough for you anyway, Ronald dear. You'll find the right witch one day."

Hidden in his mother's bosom, Ron allowed himself a smug little smirk.

* * *

Boxing Day dawned for Hermione with a dread she couldn't quite get rid of. She'd told her parents of Ron's proposal, her answer and the subsequent argument. Now she had to get through dinner at Malfoy Manor with perhaps another proposal to come. Lucius would see to that if it was what he wanted...despite her wishes and, perhaps, even despite Draco's.

"Hermione, it's time to leave," her father called up the stairs to where she sat in her old bedroom. "Netty's here to take us to the Manor."

"I'm coming, Daddy," she called back, as she wiped her eyes and checked the mirror to make sure they weren't too red. "Be right there." Hermione tripped lightly down the stairs...though her thoughts were heavy...to the front hall where her parents were waiting with Netty. "Sorry," she apologized, "I wanted to make sure I didn't forget anything."

"You look beautiful, sweetheart," her mother said. "New robes?"

"No, they're old ones, but the best I had with me." She took her father's arm. "I didn't feel like going shopping for new ones just now. Shall we go?"

"Yes, Miss," the house-elf said, bowing to her and her parents. "Netty will take you... now."

With a jolt, they arrived at the door of Malfoy Manor, Netty's magic allowing him to bring them within the Anti-Apparition spells surrounding the property. Lucius opened the door before they could even knock and genially welcomed them to his home, where Narcissa and Draco awaited to greet them as well.

Dinner went well, Hermione thought. The other friends that had also been invited included Kingsley Shacklebolt, as well as several members of the Wizengamot and their spouses. Andromeda Tonks had also been invited, and Hermione was glad to see she had accepted her sister's olive branch. Some good might have come out of the war after all.

During dessert, Lucius brought out the big guns. "Draco, don't you have something to tell us?" he asked. He looked at his son suggestively, then nodded at Hermione.

"No," Draco answered petulantly. "I told you earlier that it wasn't going to happen, Father. Hermione and I are friends, yes, but we don't love one another. Do we, Herms?"

"Of course you don't," Narcissa said before Hermione could answer. "Your father and I didn't love one another when we got married. That came later."

"Mrs Malfoy... Narcissa..." Hermione began. When all the guests looked at her, she blushed. "I don't want to marry Draco any more than he wants to marry me. I've already turned down one wizard this week. Please, don't make me have to refuse another."

"Another wizard?" Lucius queried. "Just who... ah... Ronald Weasley, I presume?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione answered in a small voice. "I'm not in love with either Draco or Ron, and I really don't want to lose the friendship we have. Although I may have lost Ron's."

"He'll come around," Draco assured her. "He always does... eventually."

"But, Draco, in your letters you sounded like you were in love," Narcissa protested. "If not Hermione, then who?"

"I plan to ask Astoria Greengrass for her hand when she graduates," Draco said. "She's reading law at Cambridge Wizarding. We met up this fall in the bookstore." He smiled dreamily. "She's really smart and very pretty."

"Greengrass, eh," Lucius mused. "Good family. Pure-blooded. Oh, no offence, Matthew."

"None taken, Lucius." Matthew Granger lifted his wine glass to show there were no bad feelings. "I, for one, am glad. I don't think I want to give my baby away yet."

"Daddy!" Hermione cried, mortified. The entire table laughed, then toasted her father's words.

* * *

"Happy New Year, Hermione!" Filius said, handing her a drink. "Drink up now."

"Thank you," she said, taking a sip. "Merlin! This is strong!" She choked on the alcohol in her glass and looked around for an empty table to set it down.

"Now, now, it's almost midnight," the diminutive professor said. "You don't want to bring in the New Year sober, do you?"

"Someone should," Severus said from behind her. Taking the glass from her hand, he took a sip. "She's right, you know, Filius. Too much Firewhisky and not enough soda." He smiled at her and set the glass down on the mantelpiece. Tugging at her hand, he led her over to a sofa that had been pushed out of the way so the others could dance to the music coming from the Wizarding Wireless if they wished.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly. At her quizzical glance, he explained his concern. "Lucius wrote and told me what happened Boxing Day. Draco didn't hurt you too badly, did he?"

"Oh, no." She laughed. "He knew I wouldn't marry him despite his parents' wishes. And our parents remain good friends."

"Oh?"

"Mmm. As a matter of fact, Mum and Narcissa are meeting up to have brunch tomorrow. Not sure where exactly, but Mum says it'll be Muggle London because Narcissa really likes the little cafés they've been to on their shopping excursions."

"Never thought I'd see the day when Narcissa Malfoy would deliberately walk around in Muggle London," Minerva chimed in, sitting down next to them and carefully balancing her drink.

"Minerva, are you drunk?" Hermione asked, giggling.

"Of course not." Minerva smirked. "Just pleasantly buzzed. By the way, why is there an owl tapping at the window?" She peered with drunken short-sightedness at the window in question. "Yes, there is definitely an owl there."

Severus smirked at Hermione, sharing an amused glance with her about the pleasantly buzzed headmistress before walking over to open the window. The Ministry owl, for that was what it was, held out its leg for him to take the letter it carried. Giving it a bit of sausage roll as a tip, Severus sent it on its way and closed the window.

"Who's it for, Sevvie?" Rolanda called from her place near the drinks table.

"That's Severus," he replied absent-mindedly, glancing at the address on the scroll, "and the letter's for me."

"Well, read it, man," Minerva urged, her brogue growing deeper the more she drank. "It must be important if they sent it tonight."

Severus unrolled the scroll and began reading.

"Out loud," everyone shouted in encouragement and differing stages of inebriation.

"Yes, please," Hermione said quietly. "Put us out of our misery."

He smirked and began reading aloud:

Professor Severus Snape

Congratulations. As of midnight this night, 31 December 2003, you will have successfully completed the probation period (here Severus paused as his fellow teachers cheered) as laid down by the Wizengamot five years ago, despite the best efforts of Rita Skeeter (boos) to sabotage you with innuendo.

In honour of this occasion, it would give me great pleasure to be the first to congratulate you in person. If you would Apparate to my offices here in the Ministry first thing in the morning, I would be honoured to shake the hand of a true war hero and welcome you home.

Minister for Magic

Severus looked at Hermione, tears in his eyes, as the clock in the Astronomy Tower started to chime midnight. "I'm free," he said. "Hermione, I'm free." She gasped as he sank to his knees in front of her. The room fell silent as the others watched him take her hand.

"Hermione Jean Granger," he said with a solemn expression. "Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Hermione's free hand rose to her lips as tears shimmered in her eyes. "Yes! Oh, yes, Severus!" She flung her arms around his shoulders, and their lips met as the room erupted into cheers.

Minerva sniffed into her handkerchief and turned to Poppy. "I always knew there was something between them. Told you, didn't I?"

"You certainly did," Poppy replied, draining her glass. "Now, let's get you to bed before you fall down."

"I'm not drunk," she protested as Poppy and Ginny helped her up. "Just pleasantly buzzed."

"Yes, Minerva," Poppy repeated as they went out the door. "Pleasantly buzzed."

Severus smirked and looked down at the witch in his arms. "Pleasantly buzzed, indeed."

* * *

Author's Note 2: This is the end of my little story, with the exception of a short epilogue to follow. I'm happy that I managed to please and entertain so many excellent writers over the last three years. Thank you.