A Likely Story

Chapter 1 of A Likely Story

Hermione screamed as an exceedingly heavy box of books flew through the air toward her. She threw her arms up to protect her face.

"Impedimenta!" The books stopped in midair and dropped heavily to the floor, pages creasing and spines warping as they piled on top of one another. Ron Weasley, wand in hand, exchanged a glance with Hermione before going to help his best mate up off the ground.

"Harry, really, one box at a time!" Hermione huffed as she dropped to her knees and began righting her books. "You should have just let me do it myself!" Harry fell inelegantly onto the couch, forcing himself not to roll his eyes. His ankle was throbbing, not that anyone seemed to care. He'd only been trying to help.

Hermione seemed to sense that now was not the time for bossiness, and left her books to perform a healing charm on his ankle. "Better?" she asked, kneeling in front of him, a hand on his knee. He nodded, smiling.

Taking a flat together in London had been Ron's idea. Hermione, tossing her books haphazardly onto the shelves, smiled to herself as she remembered. Molly had been scandalized at the very thought.

"Oh, come on, Mum! Hermione's like a sister, it'd be no different than living with Ginny!"

Hermione could admit that the comment had rankled with her at first. Then again, considering how Ron had shown affection when he WAS crushing on her, she'd quickly decided that he made a much better friend than a boyfriend. Harry had remained silent throughout the battle, and in the end Molly had given in, mostly because she knew she had no choice. Ron wasn't a child anymore, after all.

"Er - Hermione? Since when do you put your Potions books and the cookbook Mrs. Weasley gave you on the same shelf?" Harry asked quietly. They'd spent most of Sunday warding the apartment, and all of Monday buying furniture, arranging it, putting clothes into it, and making beds. Today, having gotten to bed late, they were finishing their unpacking, and Hermione had left the books for last. Unfortunately it was 3pm, and she was starting to feel a little rushed. Professor Snape hadn't indicated exactly where they were to meet at 6:00, and she wasn't sure how long she'd need to get ready. Maybe she could floo Molly and get a good charm so she wouldn't have to iron what she wanted to wear.

"Oh, I'll rearrange them tomorrow," she said distractedly. Harry was still seated on the couch behind her.

"Plans tonight?" he asked. Ron arrived with another box of books, having just apparated from his parents' house, where she'd been storing all her things.

"This is the last of them," he stated, putting the box down at her feet.

She grinned at him. "Thanks."

"Sure, he gets thanks and I only get scolded," Harry grumbled good-naturedly.

"Well, Ron didn't try to brain me with them!" Hermione said. They all laughed. When the books were on the shelves, and they'd banished the boxes, Hermione turned to Ron. "Can you watch Crooks for me tonight?"

"Sure, where're you headed?" he answered. Harry looked up interestedly. Hadn't he asked her about that earlier and she'd not answered? Hermione looked suddenly agitated, and didn't answer. At that moment, a sleek black owl arrived on the windowsill. Harry, testing his ankle and finding it sound, went to retrieve an ornate envelope.

Ron ventured into the kitchen for a butterbeer, but came back empty-handed when he heard Harry yelp, then swear. "What is it, mate?"

"Bloody owl bit me!" Harry exclaimed, his finger in his mouth. The owl ruffled its feathers haughtily before flapping over to Hermione and landing on her shoulder. Naturally she knew whom the letter must be from and she was laughing silently. She untied the envelope and told the owl that Ron would give it a treat in the kitchen. They were all surprised when the bird flew to Ron and accepted an owl treat docilely before heading back out into the sunshine. Hermione was still laughing, as she read the letter.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked, finally parking himself on the couch with his butterbeer.

"Professor Snape," she answered simply, ignoring their raised eyebrows. "He'll be here at 5:30, which only gives me about - "

"He'll be HERE?" Ron said, a look of disbelief on his face. "Why?"

Harry was chuckling. "I'd like to see him get through the wards," he commented dryly. Dumbledore had taught Harry a large number of wards, and even with them the Order was still keeping an eye on the place. Truth be known, though, it would take a rather proficient wizard to break any ward cast by Harry Potter. Now that he was of age, and the full extent of his magical abilities was known, even Dumbledore couldn't justify being so overprotective anymore.

Hermione fixed him with an even gaze, the shadow of a smirk gracing her lips. "You'll have to let him through, then, won't you?" With that she tucked the letter into her robe pocket and headed to the fireplace. After a quick conversation with Molly, she secluded herself in her room to get ready. She hadn't really thought much about what the boys were going to say about all this, she'd been to busy trying to decide what SHE thought about it.

Professor Snape had never been exactly polite, and that was putting it mildly. Obviously she was flattered that he'd consider taking her to the Potions Masters' Convention. But as she'd thought about it the last few days, she realized that she hadn't accepted just because she was flattered. In spite of his usually unpleasant demeanor, Hermione had learned the hard way that he was impeccably trustworthy, undeniably brave, and, perhaps most important to her, indisputably brilliant.

She'd been impressed when, after his discovery as a spy, he hadn't simply retired from the Order. Instead, he'd carried on much as other members had done. Now he could openly question the members of Slytherin house, trying to help them overcome their parents' and peers' expectations. Now he could join Remus, Arthur, and Kingsley on the various assignments they'd been given. Now he could openly protect muggleborns' families as he hadn't been able to protect hers.

She sank down onto the bed morosely, her favorite skirt wringing in her hands. That line of thought wasn't going to get her anywhere, and certainly it wouldn't get her through the convention tonight. She threw the material from her just as Ron knocked at her door. "Come in," she mumbled. Apparently he'd been elected to find out just what was going on. He entered cautiously, until he saw that she was crying. Then he crossed the room in two strides and pulled her up into a hug.

When she finally fell silent, he let her go. "Alright, then?" he asked gently. She nodded, wiping her eyes. Instantly his boyish grin was back. "Now, why am I watching Crookshanks so that you can go out with Professor Snape?" He'd meant it to be a joke, but since it was a correct assessment of the situation it didn't come off as being very funny. There was an awkward moment of silence.

"He offered to take me to the Potions Masters' Convention in Geneva to hear my new professor speak tonight," she said shyly.

Ron regarded her silently for a moment. "You're kidding," he said seriously. She shook her head. "And you said yes?" She nodded. "So this is a - "

"Date," she finished for him, nodding again, but avoiding his eyes. "I think so, at least." There was another moment of silence, and then Ron started to laugh. "What is so funny?" she demanded, trying and failing to sound angry.

Harry had come to the doorway and was watching mirthlessly as Ron laughed. "What's up?" he asked, taking in the sight of Hermione's tear-streaked face and the skirt that was now hanging haphazardly from her mirror. Ron, realizing that Harry might not think this was nearly as funny as he did, sobered up quickly. With a quick glance at Hermione, he pointed to the skirt. "She was going to wear THAT to a Potions' Masters' Convention," he said with feeling.

"Ron, you've been hanging out with Finnegan too long," Harry said, shaking his head. "How would YOU know what she ought to wear?"

"Yes, Ronnekins, how would you know?" Hermione echoed sweetly. "Now, both of you kindly leave my room so I can change." Her clock showed that it was already 4:00. She'd wasted a lot of time on tears. "I've only got an hour and a half left, and now I have to pick something to wear that Ron won't laugh at!" She exclaimed, making both boys laugh. She locked the door behind them and took a deep breath, then opened it back up. "Ron? What do you suggest?" she asked timidly.

Harry shook his head as the two of them disappeared back into her room. He pulled out a frozen pizza and popped it in the oven, glad that they'd rented in muggle London, since he had no idea how to cook with a wand. Ron appeared 15 minutes later, shaking his head. "She has no idea," he commented. Harry plopped into a chair at the kitchen table and summoned a butterbeer.

"What do you mean?"

Ron eyed him warily. Early in sixth year the two boys had sat down and talked about Hermione. They'd agreed that neither of them ought to pursue her, for the sake of their own friendship as well as their relationships with her. For Ron it had been easy to agree to. After all, he'd kissed her that summer, and it really had been just like kissing Ginny. Gross beyond measure. They'd just been friends too long. But Ron had always thought that maybe Harry was giving up a bit more than he was with that agreement. "I mean that she's never been to one of these conventions, and she doesn't realize that the lecture is going to be half an hour long, tops. Then there'll be a bit of dancing. She probably won't be home until 2:00!"

"I hardly think Professor Snape will want to stay for the dancing," Harry said, making a face.

"Well, he's taking her to dinner before hand. I think if he really wants to make a night of it -"

"WHAT?"

The oven beeped to inform them that Harry's pizza was done, and Ron calmly levitated it out of the oven and onto a cooling rack that Hermione had insisted they purchase to protect the counter. Harry was glaring at him as though this was somehow his fault.

"Well, we couldn't keep her all to ourselves forever," he said, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

Thirty seconds later the door to Harry's bedroom slammed impressively and Hermione, dressed, but with her hair still loose around her shoulders, came into the kitchen. She seemed entirely unperturbed by Harry's response. "Can you help me with this?" The zipper on the back of her dress was only halfway up her back. He zipped it without comment as she held her hair out of the way. "Thanks."

She disappeared back into her room. Ron took two slices of pizza and apparated upstairs to the loft bedroom, which he'd claimed by right of being eldest (by a whole two months).

As a result, there was no one present at 5:29pm when Severus Snape apparated into the living room. A hideous shriek erupted from the wards and Ron was downstairs an instant later, wand in hand. Hermione, too, appeared, battle-ready, with a fierce look in her eyes. She laughed a little when she realized what had happened. Severus, however, did not look amused.

"These are your wards?" he asked disdainfully as Ron headed off to convince Harry to reset them. The shrieking fell to silence, but neither boy reappeared.

"Well, we certainly have something to discuss over dinner," Hermione said dryly.

"It might be wise if we discussed it now. It would be irresponsible of me to leave Mr. Potter here without your protection and with only these wards." It was a backhanded compliment to be sure, and he watched her face carefully to see if she would recognize it. It appeared that she did, but the insult to Harry kept her from smiling. He nearly winced at the glance she threw him, realizing that he would have to refrain from derogatory comments about her friends if he wished to get a smile out of her this evening.

Hermione, for her part, swiftly remembered that she had mascara on only one set of eyelashes and no shoes. She excused herself and quickly finished dressing. When she reappeared, Severus was talking quietly with Ron. She watched him show her friend a wand movement.

"Should I have Harry cast it?" Ron asked dubiously. Dumbledore had always said that the most powerful wizard available should cast warding spells, they lasted longer that way.

"One day, Mr. Weasley, you will need to admit to yourself that what you lack is confidence, not ability. I should have thought your experience with Quidditch would have taught you that," Severus replied scathingly.

Ron was just about to open his mouth with an angry retort when Hermione broke in. "I've been trying to tell him the same thing for years, though there are better ways to phrase it. I take it you can handle the wards, then, Ron? We should go."

Ron closed his mouth with a snap, and Hermione could almost see his brain processing the words that had been said, rather than just reacting to the derogatory tone of voice, as he'd been about to do. Finally he shook his head and smiled. "Go. Have fun." Hermione leaned over and kissed his cheek. A moment later she and the Professor disappeared with a resounding CRACK.