Fifteen

Disclaimer: All characters and settings of Potterverse are the property of J.K. Rowling and other sundry entities. Only the plot belongs to me. I am making no money. I play in this universe for the sheer joy of it. My only payment is the kind reviews and comments of those who read and enjoy my tale. This story is canon-compliant through HBP. DH has, for the most part, been happily disregarded, especially that sappy epilogue!

Special thanks go to my beta reader, JuJuJenn. She makes sure I stay focused.

Fifteen

At about seven o'clock on Christmas morning, Hermione knocked loudly on Ron and Harry's door and then slipped into their room carrying two vials.

"Wake up, you two," Hermione chirped in a cheery voice. She shook Harry's shoulder and gave Ron's arse a not-so-gentle kick with her slipper-clad foot.

"Great Merlin's balls – my head aches," Ron moaned as he sat up in his bed.

"Drink this, you'll feel better," she said as she handed Ron one of the vials. She turned toward Harry's bed and handed him the other one.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said as he gratefully swallowed the potion that she provided.

"Does this come with a lecture?" Ron asked as he squinted against the glare coming in from the window. "Not that we don't deserve one."

"It's Christmas. No lectures today. Just the fact that you realise you deserve one is a step in the right direction."

"Are my parents here yet?" Ron shuddered as he swallowed the potion and then clamped a hand over his mouth, afraid he might be sick.

"She Flooed a couple of minutes ago, which is why I came to wake you up."

"Thanks for that," Harry said.

"Oi, she wouldn't care that it's Christmas; she'd just lecture us anyway ... or me, at least. She thinks Harry's a saint."

Harry flushed. "Nah, she doesn't."

"Of course she does," Ron insisted. "That's why I like having you next to me when I face her."

"Just hurry and get up," Hermione said. "Go brush your teeth and shower; get the smell off you or else she'll know what you've been up to anyway."

"Hey, we're both adults," Ron said.

"Then go down the way you are," Hermione said in a reasonable tone. "See if I care."

"I've got the shower first," Ron said as he threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. His head was already pounding a lot less, and the cobwebs were breaking up.

"Go on, then," Harry said. "You need it more than I do."

"You drank just as much as I did."

"Yeah, but I've got more tolerance for alcohol than you do."

"Right."

"You two are gormless," Hermione said with a grin. "I'll see you both at breakfast."

"Thanks again," Harry said.

"Consider it your Christmas present."

Harry and Ron both laughed, and Hermione left them to their morning routine.

Hermione's quick-thinking intervention had saved Ron and Harry from one of Molly's lectures, and the rest of the morning passed uneventfully.

Minerva Flooed into Grimmauld Place before dinner, and she and Snape locked themselves in the library for nearly an hour. When Minerva came out, she was alone.

"Where's Severus?" Molly asked. "Dinner is nearly ready."

"He asked me to make his apologies," Minerva said. "He's ... not feeling well."

Molly shook her head. "I'll bring him a tray."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that, Molly. Thank you."

Dinner was a subdued affair, everyone acutely aware of Snape's absence and the reason for it.

Several hours later, Arthur was able to persuade Snape to come down to the kitchen and share a pot of tea and a plate of ginger biscuits with them all.

Snape even managed a small smile as Fred and George teased Molly about her candy-cane-striped hair.

By the time the last biscuit was gone, the mood in the room was more relaxed, and they could almost forget that there was a war on.

On Boxing Day, Hermione pulled Ron aside and told him she needed to speak with him.

"I'll come to your room tonight," Ron said as he grinned at her.

"No. Let's meet in the library," she replied. "Nine o'clock?"

"Sure," Ron said, but he was no longer smiling.

"I'm sorry, Ron."

They were sitting side-by-side on a battered old settee in the Black library.

"I thought you were in love with me!"

"I thought I was, too," she replied in a small, sad voice. "I was wrong."

"You're not in love with Harry, are you?"

"I love Harry like a brother."

"Who else is there, then? Who are you in love with?"

"Sometimes it isn't about being in love with someone else. Sometimes it's about not being in love at all."

"I don't understand."

"I can't make it any plainer. I love you, but I love you the same way I love Harry – like a brother."

Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You've gone and fallen in love with the greasy git, haven't you? Things were all right between us until you started working with him at that 'private lab' of his! What's he done to you?"

"He hasn't done anything to me."

"He's probably got you under the Imperius," Ron declared.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"So you're not in love with him?"

Knowing Ron as well as she did, Hermione had anticipated that he would ask that question. She had searched her own heart to find the answer.

Was she in love with Severus Snape?

She certainly respected him. His intelligence was appealing. His voice had a low, seductive timbre, which she was sure he was aware of and used to his advantage when he needed to. He could be sarcastic, abrasive, and petty, but he had a deep core of honour and morality, as well.

There was no denying she was attracted to him. Given the opportunity to nurture that attraction, she was sure she would have no difficulty falling in love with him.

But as things stood, with all the uncertainties of the war, she could answer Ron honestly.

"No, I'm not in love with him."

"Don't lie to me!" Ron shouted as he jumped to his feet.

"I'm not lying to you."

"I won't let him take you away from me."

Hermione had sworn to herself that she wouldn't lose her temper, but she couldn't help but react to Ron's shouted words.

"He didn't take me away from you – I took me away from you! It was my decision, Ron – mine!"

"And what'll I tell everyone when they ask why we're not together any more?"

"Tell them you broke up with me, if that'll make you feel better. I don't care."

Ron looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. Then he turned and stomped out of the room, slamming the door loudly as he left.

The next few days were tense.

Ron and Hermione avoided each other as much as they could in the confined space of Grimmauld Place. Hermione spent a lot of time at the lab in the Himalayas. There were always potions to be brewed, and even if there weren't, the library there was far superior to the one in the Black house.

When they couldn't avoid each other, Hermione tried to carry on as though nothing was wrong between them.

Ron ignored her, directing his comments to Harry, who was placed in the unenviable position of having to act as an intermediary between his two best friends.

Because Ron had taken Hermione at her word and had told his parents that the break-up was his idea, Molly was actually cooler toward Ron than she was towards Hermione.

Remus remained neutral. He didn't campaign to get them back together (unlike Ginny and Molly), and he offered no advice (unlike Fred and George, who had plenty to say).

Snape, of course, ignored the situation entirely.

By the morning of New Year's Eve, Ron's ire had begun to dissipate a bit. The three of them had just finished breakfast – the first time in nearly a week that Ron had actually sat down at the same time as Hermione for a meal.

"It's about time you two came to your senses and stopped acting so stupid," Harry said.

Hermione resisted the urge to point out that she wasn't the one who'd been acting stupidly.

"Yeah, well, it's going to take some getting used to," Ron grumbled.

"I know I've said it before," Hermione said, "but I really am sorry, Ron."

He looked at her and smiled slightly.

"I'm sorry, too, Hermione. I've been acting like a git."

"You'll find someone else – someone you're better suited to."

"Of course I will. With my boyish charm and rakish good looks, that's a given."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're such a wanker," she said.

"Well, I have to be now, don't I? My girlfriend's gone and thrown me over."

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice, and Ron and Hermione both pounded him on the back.

"Now I know you two are all right," Harry said when he finally got his coughing under control.

"We're fine, aren't we?" Hermione said to Ron.

"Yeah, we're fine."

"In that case, did you finish the chapter that Snape told you to read?"

"Are you going to start nagging me again?" Ron asked with a scowl.

"Of course I am. But as your friend, instead of your girlfriend, it won't annoy you nearly as much."

"Don't bet on it," Ron mumbled. But he pulled out Dark, Darker, Darkest and opened it on the table in front of him.

Early that evening, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Remus were sitting in the parlour talking when Fred and George arrived.

"What are you two doing here?" Ron asked. "I thought you were going to some party tonight."

"We are," Fred said. "But it won't really get started until at least eight o'clock."

"We've come to invite the lot of you to come with us," George added.

"We can't go to a party!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Why not?" Ron asked. "This is the first year we're old enough to celebrate New Year's Eve, and we're stuck here."

"There's a war on, or have you forgotten?" Hermione scolded.

"Not to worry, Hermione," George said. "The party's in Muggle London. There won't be any Death Eaters invited."

"There may be spies about ..." Hermione began.

"Have you been to the chemist lately, Miss Granger?" said Snape from the doorway.

"What?" Hermione turned to look at Snape. And then her eyes widened as she realised what he'd said.

"Well, that would certainly be a solution. I find it difficult to believe, however, that you would approve of our going to a party," she said with a smile.

Snape shrugged. "It might actually be a good idea. Being cooped up here can certainly put a strain on one's nerves. After an evening of frivolity, you may come back more prepared to concentrate on your lessons."

"Yeah," Ron said. "Snape's right."

Snape gave a soft snort.

"You're a self-serving little tosser, aren't you?" Snape said.

"If that means I'll say anything to get out of this house for a few hours, then, yeah, I'm a self-serving tosser," Ron agreed without a trace of rancour. "Now, what's this solution you're talking about?"

Hermione turned back and stared intently at Harry. Then she raised her wand and aimed it at him.

Before their eyes, he began to change.

His hair lightened and began to wave slightly, and then it lengthened, spilling over his forehead and covering any trace of his scar. His skin darkened a bit, giving it a sun-kissed look as though he had just stepped off a beach on the Riviera, or some place equally warm. His nose broadened, his lips thinned, and his eyes changed from bright green to hazel.

"Well done, Miss Granger," Snape said as he peered at her handiwork.

"Thank you."

"Blimey," Ron said to Harry, "you don't look anything like yourself."

"Your turn, Ron," Hermione said.

"Hey, there's no improving on perfection, but you can try."

Hermione sighed, and Fred and George both snickered.

With a wicked gleam in her eye, Hermione raised her wand.

Ron seemed to shrink as his lanky frame filled out, becoming thicker and more muscular. His nose shortened, his lips became fuller, and his eyes turned from bright blue to muddy brown. Hermione hesitated over his hair. There were still streaks of emerald green visible in between the red locks; the effects of the Christmas cracker hadn't entirely faded yet. His hair looked like the leaves of a deciduous tree – one that had not quite completed its Autumnal change.

"Sorry, Ron," Hermione muttered as she waved her wand again.

And then Ron's hair disappeared, leaving him completely bald. As if to compensate, she added a scraggly brown moustache and a wispy beard.

"You look like a boxer," George said.

"Oi, what'd you do to my hair?" Ron said as he fingered the top of his bald head.

"There was no way to get the green out."

"I'd rather have green hair than no hair."

"Green hair would draw attention," Hermione explained.

"And a bald head won't?" Ron whinged.

"Lots of Muggle men shave their heads," George said. "And with all those muscles, the girls will be falling over you."

"You think so?"

Fred and George both nodded solemnly.

Ron didn't seem convinced.

"You can go out bald," Snape interjected, "or you can have your green hair back and remain here this evening. The choice is yours."

"Well, if you're going to put it that way ..."

"I am."

Everyone laughed.

Hermione turned toward Remus and tilted her head thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure I should go," Remus said before Hermione could start forming his glamour.

"Why shouldn't you?" Harry asked.

"Well ... I'm supposed to be dead. What if I'm seen?"

"Believe me, when I get done with you, no one will recognise you," Hermione said.

"No one would recognise any of us," Harry said.

Remus turned to Snape.

"What do you think, Severus?"

"I think in the weeks to come, you'll be heartily sick of this place. Right now, the Dark Lord isn't paying much attention to the Muggle world. Take advantage while you can because you may not have another opportunity.

"Besides, this bunch of reprobates needs someone to keep an eye on them."

Remus grinned.

"All right then, Hermione – work your magic on me," he said, and Hermione raised her wand.

Remus's hair turned from sandy-brown to a deep auburn shade. His eyes changed from amber-gold to a bright sapphire blue. His moustache disappeared, but a small, neat goatee graced his chin. His skin paled, and freckles appeared across his nose and cheeks. He looked at least ten years younger.

"You look like one of us now," Fred said.

"Yeah, you could pass for one of our brothers tonight," George added.

"All right, let's party!" Ron said enthusiastically.

"Do your glamour now, Hermione," Harry said.

"Oh, I don't feel like going to a party."

"You have to come; it won't be any fun without you."

"Sure it will. You can have a boys' night out. I'd just be in the way."

"Nonsense, Miss Granger," Snape said. "You need a respite just as much as the others do."

"In that case, are you coming with us?" Hermione said.

"Don't be absurd."

"I'm not being absurd. You're under as much strain as we are – more, even. If anyone deserves a night of 'frivolity', it's you."

"I don't frivol, Miss Granger," Snape said. He somehow managed to look disdainful and dignified at the same time.

"Maybe you should," Hermione shot back. "At least once in a while."

"Hermione's right, Severus," Remus said. "You should come with us."

Snape threw Remus a withering glare.

"I have things to see to, duties to perform for Minerva."

"I was with you and Minerva this morning," Remus said. "I don't recall her giving you any additional duties."

"Your recollection is faulty."

"No, it isn't."

"Come on, Snape," Harry said. "You're holding up the party. Let Hermione give you a glamour and let's go."

"I'm quite capable of performing a glamour," Snape replied, apparently affronted.

"Prove it," Hermione challenged.

"Oh, very well," Snape said. "But when I sit in a corner and fail to participate in your foolishness, don't say I didn't warn you."

He closed his eyes and his appearance began to alter.

His hair shortened, became thicker, and developed a wave, although it remained black as sin. His skin, usually pale and sallow, warmed and brightened. His lips filled out, and his nose, while still a bit large, lost its hook. The frown lines between his eyes and around his mouth smoothed out.

He opened his eyes and Hermione noticed that while they were still dark, they no longer seemed cold and unreadable.

"Satisfied?" he said through gritted teeth – teeth that were less crooked and less yellowed.

Hermione looked him up and down. He was still formidable looking, but less intimidating. He looked younger and less stressed.

"Holy shite!" Ron said. "Look at that hair – it's curly, like a girl's."

"Ron!"

Snape held a hand up, keeping her from further comment.

"I beg your pardon, Weasley – it's wavy not curly, and at least I have hair."

Ron's hand flew to his bald pate.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Hermione relaxed a bit as a confrontation was avoided.

"Do your glamour, Hermione," Ron urged. "I can't wait to leave."

Hermione nodded and closed her eyes in concentration.

Her hair smoothed out, becoming long and straight. It's colour didn't change, but there were streaks of gold and honey running through it now. Her facial features shifted slightly; her cheekbones became more prominent, her chin developed a dimple, and her nose turned up very slightly. Her eyes changed from brown to violet, and her lashes lengthened, framing her eyes in dark spikes. A small beauty mark appeared at the corner of her mouth.

"Great Merlin's Y-fronts, you're beautiful! Now I wish I hadn't let you break up with me."

"As if you could have stopped her," George said. "And I thought you told us you broke up with her?"

Ron flushed slightly.

"It was a mutual decision, wasn't it, Ron?" Hermione said before Ron could speak.

Ron sent her a grateful look.

"Yeah ... it was mutual."

"Are we going to stand around all night talking, or are we going to party?" Fred asked.

"I'm ready," Hermione said.

"Where are we going?" Remus asked.

"Liverpool," George said. "Some Muggle singing group used to play there before they became famous. The Insects, the Spiders ... something like that."

"The Beatles?" Remus and Snape spoke almost in unison.

"Yeah, that's it ... the Beetles. I knew it was some kind of bug."

Snape shook his head, and Remus grinned.

"Do you know where it is, Severus?" Remus asked.

"Of course."

"Fred or George can take Ron. One of us can take Harry, and the other Hermione."

"I'll take Potter."

"Then I guess you're riding with me, Hermione," Remus said as he held out his arm.

"If I recall correctly, the club's on Mathew Street," Snape said. "We can Apparate to the Victoria Street station. It's only a short walk from there."

"We should all cast Disillusioning Charms on ourselves," Remus said. "The station will be crowded, but I think if the seven of us suddenly appeared, we'd be noticed."

"Did you make reservations?" Snape asked George. "I imagine the place will be packed."

"We've got tickets," Fred said. "One of our Muggle suppliers actually rented the club out for the night. He was giving tickets to all his customers. We got eight of them."

"Good. I'd hate to have to Imperius the bouncer."

They all cast the Disillusioning Charms. Fred took Ron's arm and Disapparated, followed by George, Harry and Snape, and Remus and Hermione.

Only moments later, the seven of them were pushed together in the middle of the crowded station. They made their way to the exit, dropping their Disillusionment Charms one at a time, to avoid being noticed.

"Which way?" Harry asked.

"I'd say we should just follow the crowd," Snape replied. He indicated the stream of people walking down Victoria Street.

"Our supplier did say it was going to be a big party," George said.

---

Author's note 1: This story was written in response to the Post DH Challenge on The Petulant Poetess.

I chose prompt #5: Harry touches his scar; it hasn't pained him in 19 years. He

hears hooting, rolls over in bed to see Hedwig sweeping in the open

window at Privet Drive, and realizes that his 17th birthday isn't far

off. Go for it... a new seventh year for the lot.

I've basically begun my story where Half Blood Prince ends. This is the way seventh year and beyond might have gone; even, dare I say it – should have gone!

Author's note 2: The administrators here at TPP have graciously granted me Validated Author status. While I appreciate the honour, it does come with the added responsibility that my posts be as near to perfect as I can make them. With this in mind, I would ask my readers to bring any errors that I and my beta may have missed to my attention. Thank you so much!