Chapter 16

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.

Author's note: In one way, I was happy to see this story on the "Haunting You for an Update" list -- that means people like the story and want to read more of it. In another way, it made me sad when I realised that it has been more than eight months since I posted a chapter.

As some of you may know, I lost my dad a few months ago. The toll that took on me made it very difficult for me to summon the emotional energy I needed to get back into this story. I'm trying very hard to get back into my writing, and I've had some success. I have not abandoned this story, and I'm truly grateful to every one who reads it. I promise that it won't be eight months before I update again. I thank you for your patience and understanding.

Sixteen

When they arrived at the Cavern, George handed their tickets to the man at the door, and they were allowed inside.

Their table was a small one in a corner, rather closer to the stage than Snape liked, and more suited for four than for seven. A club employee obligingly found them some extra chairs, and they settled themselves in.

The music was already blasting from the speakers, and a pall of smoke hung in the air.

“I just saw our supplier,” George was nearly yelling to be heard over the pounding beat of the music. “He says the buffet will be open in about an hour. Fred and I are going to the bar to get drinks. What'll you have?”

“We’ll all be deaf in an hour,” Snape grumbled. “And let’s not forget the nicotine poisoning, which has probably already begun.”

Remus chuckled. “Oh, lighten up, Sev. It’s just one night. I doubt you’ll develop lung cancer that quickly. Have a drink and try to relax.”

Snape snorted, but settled into a chair jammed into the corner, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Scotch,” he said to George.

“Any particular brand?” George asked. “I wouldn't want to get you a glass of bad Scotch on your first night off in years.”

“There's no such thing as bad Scotch – there's only good Scotch and better Scotch, but I'll take Glenlivet if they have it.”

“Sounds good to me,” Remus said.

“I don't guess they'll have Butterbeer, huh?” Ron asked. “Guess I'll have Scotch, as well.”

“Make it easy on yourself,” Hermione shouted. “Just get Scotch for everyone.”

George nodded, and he and Fred began pushing their way towards the bar.

The ear-pounding music made conversation difficult, so instead they settled for watching the crowded dance floor – at least four of them did.

Snape watched them.

Potter's eyes were bright with excitement. They flitted from one gyrating couple to the next, and his feet tapped the floor in time to the raucous beat of the music.

Weasley was blatantly flirting with a young woman at the next table. She was part of a group, all female, that Snape pegged as shop assistants or secretaries.

Granger's foot was also tapping to the music, but she was watching the musicians rather than the dancers.

And Lupin ... Lupin was watching Granger.

Oh, he wasn't obvious about it. A casual observer might not even notice his guarded scrutiny of the young witch. But Snape had trained himself to notice what casual observers missed. And there was no doubt in his mind that Lupin wasn't looking at Hermione as a former student, or even as a fellow Order member.

Before Snape could speculate further, Fred and George were back. Fred carried a tray with several glasses on it, and George had a bottle clutched in each hand.

“The bar’s so jammed, it would take us an hour to get another round,” Fred explained as he put the tray down in the middle of the table.

“We thought it was just easier to get a bottle … or two!” George said happily. He put one bottle down and tore the seal from the second. With a few quick flicks of his wrist, he filled the glasses.

“Good move,” Ron said as he picked up one of the glasses and downed the contents in one gulp. He held out his empty glass, and George refilled it.

“Oi, brother, take it easy,” Fred cautioned.

“I'm just celebrating the New Year,” Ron said as he took a gulp from his second glass.

“Keep drinking like that, Weasley,” Snape said dryly, “and you'll be unconscious by midnight – you won't see the New Year.”

Ron shrugged, but he put the glass down.

“Want to dance, Hermione?” Fred asked, holding his hand out to her.

“Sure,” she replied. She took his hand, and they moved out onto the crowded dance floor.

“Come on, Harry,” Ron said as he got to his feet. “Let's ask a couple of those girls to dance.”

“I'm not much of a dancer,” Harry replied.

“Doesn't matter,” George said. “No one out there knows how to dance. But let me show you how it’s done.”

He walked over to the table next to them, the one with all the young women.

He leaned down and whispered to one of them. She nodded. Then he turned and indicated Harry and Ron, and two of the other girls giggled and then nodded as well.

A minute later, six more gyrating bodies had joined the throng on the dance floor.

Thankfully, the band stopped playing when the buffet was served, so the group was able to sit around their table and talk while they ate without having to shout at each other.

Although they had little fear of being recognised, they centred their conversation on neutral topics, and all were careful to avoid mentioning wizards, Muggles, Dark Lords, or the Order of the Phoenix. Although there were no Death Eaters about, there was no point in stirring up the curiosity of any Muggles who might overhear their words. It was New Year’s Eve, a time of celebration; none of them wanted to have to Obliviate someone simply because they’d been careless.

Hermione was curious as to how both Remus and Severus had known of the Muggle group whose roots were sunk deep in the Cavern.

“Remus,” she asked, “how did you know it was the Beatles who got their start here?”

“I have a cousin who was a huge fan,” Remus said. “We visited that side of the family on a regular basis, so I had a lot of exposure.”

Remus then turned to Snape.

“How did you know about them, Severus?”

For a moment Snape considered ignoring the question. Then he shrugged. It was a social occasion, after all.

“While we didn’t spend a lot of time with my father’s side of the family, there was some contact. The Beatles’ influence on the music world and on popular culture was impossible to ignore entirely, no matter how hard one tried.”

“Well, their music is certainly more tolerable than the Weird Sisters,” Hermione said.

“I like the Weird Sisters,” Ron put in.

“I’ll have to agree with Hermione on that one, Ron,” Remus said.

“As will I,” Snape said.

Ron scowled, and for a moment Hermione feared that he would say something that would ruin the pleasant evening that everyone, even an initially reluctant Snape, was enjoying.

Ron, too, must have realised how important it was to maintain the tenuous peace that had been established.

“Everyone’s entitled to an opinion, I guess,” he said as he scooped up another small sandwich from his plate and took a bite.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and returned her attention to her own plate.

When the food was cleared away, the band took the stage once more.

As midnight approached, the sense of anticipation in the room heightened. The music got louder, the crowd got noisier, and the dancers became even less inhibited as they bounced and jounced against each other.

Fred and George, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, along with several of the girls from the table next to theirs, had formed into a loose circle within the larger group of dancers.

Remus and Snape were sitting at the table, watching the madness around them. Remus refilled his glass and held the bottle over Snape’s glass with a questioning look.

Snape shook his head. He’d had one full jigger before he’d eaten, and had been nursing a second since his meal. He had no intention of getting drunk.

“Someone will have to see this lot home,” he shouted into Remus’s ear to make himself heard over the deafening noise.

“Harry and Ron, at least,” Remus agreed. “I don’t think Hermione’s had more than two drinks. And Fred and George seem all right.”

“And who’ll see you home?” Snape said with a snort.

“Oh, I’m a bit snookered, I admit,” Remus said with a slightly off-kilter grin. “But you know that with my metabolism the alcohol will leave my system quickly once I stop drinking.”

He upended his glass and then banged it down on the table.

“And now I’ve stopped. I’ll be fine by the time we’re ready to leave.”

A few minutes before midnight, their host jumped up onto the stage. He waved the band to silence, and there were cries of protest from the sweaty tangle of dancers on the floor.

“It’s almost time, folks,” the emcee said over the boos and hisses rising from the crowd. “Let’s get everyone on the dance floor so we can welcome in the New Year right!”

Although most of the crowd was already on the dance floor, a few stragglers joined the mob.

“I still see a few wallflowers out there,” the emcee said a few moments later. “Come on, now – don’t make me go out there and drag you out here!”

“As if,” Snape muttered as he sank lower in his chair.

Remus chuckled and got to his feet.

“Oh, let’s go join the others, Sev. None of us may be here next New Year’s Eve. Carpe diem and all that.”

Snape didn’t comment, but he did stand up.

Before he and Remus took two steps, however, Hermione was standing next to them.

“Hurry!” she said, her eyes bright with excitement. “It’s nearly midnight!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Remus said with a smile as he moved toward the dance floor.

When Snape still held back, she reached out and grasped one of his hands, pulling him toward the crowd.

Snape wanted to baulk, but knew he couldn’t risk making a scene.

He settled for pushing ahead of her and taking the lead, tugging on her hand when she got momentarily lost in the crush of people.

“I thought you were in a hurry to join the others,” he said as he stopped and watched her try to move past a rather large, and very drunken, reveller.

“You can join me any time, ducky,” the man said with an idiotic grin.

He brushed his sausage-shaped fingers across the front of Hermione’s blouse.

All concerns about making a scene vanished. Snape moved back toward the man and grasped his wrist, twisting his arm back and up between his shoulder blades.

“Hey!” the man shouted.

“Stop it!” Hermione said as she clutched at Snape’s hand, trying to break his hold on the hapless Muggle.

“This man assaulted you.”

“He made a drunken pass; he won’t even remember in the morning.”

“In that case, he won’t remember how he dislocated his shoulder, either,” Snape said as hitched the man’s arm up another notch.

“Let him go. Please, Severus, don’t spoil the evening. Just let him go.” She pulled at his hand again.

Snape saw the pleading look in her eyes and relented.

He released the man’s arm and gave him a not-so-gentle shove away from Hermione.

“I hate drunks,” he muttered.

“Ten!”

“Quick – we need to get to Harry and the others.”

Since she was still grasping his hand, she pulled him along as she moved toward her friends.

“Seven!”

“There you are!” Harry said with a huge smile across his face. “Here.”

He thrust a noise maker into her hand.

“Five!”

Hermione happily blew through the cardboard tube, adding to the din.

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Happy New Year!”

Snape wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the noise level actually increased as the band burst into a raucous rendition of Auld Lang Syne, and the mob on the floor screamed and shouted at each other happily.

The next few minutes passed in a flurry of hugs, kisses, and handshakes.

Even Potter and Weasley shook Snape’s hand and wished him a happy New Year. Snape returned their greetings even though he was convinced that their actions, especially Weasley's, were prompted more by the large amount of alcohol they’d consumed rather than any genuine desire to see him ‘happy’ in the New Year – or any other time for that matter.

The hug and the kiss on the cheek that Hermione bestowed upon him were as impersonal and platonic as the ones she gave Harry, Ron, Remus, Fred, and George. Snape didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed.

Fifteen minutes after midnight, the band resumed their normal repertoire, and the dancing began once again.

Snape knew that they should return to Grimmauld Place soon. The club was already emptying out. Victoria Station would be much less crowded than it had been when they arrived, and thus it would be more difficult to Disapparate from there, especially as he was sure Potter and the younger Weasley were both too drunk to Disillusion themselves properly. When he mentioned leaving, there was the expected protest from the two of them. Remus, however, insisted that Snape was right, and that the time had come for the party to end. They might have continued to whinge, but a sharp look from Hermione had them falling into line.

Harry and Ron bid a reluctant farewell to the table full of nubile young ladies next to them and followed Hermione, Remus, and Snape out of the club.

Victoria Street was surprisingly deserted. As they walked, Remus and Snape discussed the best way to get everyone back safely.

“We may not need to go as far as the station,” Remus said as he looked around.

“You’re right,” Snape agreed. He turned into one of the many alleyways that branched off the main street. “This one's empty. We won't even have to cast Disillusionment Charms. You take Weasley; I’ll take the other two.”

“I can Apparate on my own,” Hermione said from her place between Harry and Ron, who were both leaning on her as they walked unsteadily behind Remus and Snape.

“Be certain, Miss Granger,” Snape said over his shoulder. “There’s nothing worse than splinching yourself when you’re drunk … you seldom find all the missing pieces.”

All the liquor he’d drunk had finally caught up to Ron; he found Snape’s comment inexplicably funny, and he began to laugh.

“Pieces of Snape … pieces of Snape …” he said in a sing-song voice between giggles.

Harry started to laugh as well, although he did manage to refrain from singing along with Ron's impromptu performance.

“Shut him up, Lupin,” Snape snarled, “or I will.”

“Come on, Ron,” Remus said as he grasped Ron’s arm and led him a little distance away from the others. “Time to go home.”

In a moment, they were gone.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to Apparate on your own?” Snape asked as he made a lunge for Harry, who had, it appeared, fallen asleep on his feet and was in danger of falling flat on his face.

“I’m sure. I stopped drinking when we ate,” Hermione said as she draped Harry's arms over Snape's shoulders.

“Very well, then. You go on ahead; I’ll be right behind you with Sleeping Beauty here.”

Harry gave a muffled snort. “I love you, Ginny,” he muttered as he buried his face in Snape's neck.

“I swear if he tries to kiss me, he won't have to wait for the Dark Lord to kill him,” Snape growled. But even as he spoke, he was tightening his grip on Harry's limp body, preparing for Side-Along Apparition.

Hermione laughed, and then she vanished without a sound.

Snape waited a few seconds, and then he and Harry disappeared as well.

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!