Final Year, Chapter 6 – A Second Wedding, And Trouble Back Home

From the Journal of Hermione Granger – July 27

I woke up with a big smile on my face this morning. I am so happy! I’m going to marry Harry! (I almost squealed out loud when I wrote that sentence. I can’t believe I’m being such a girl!) I know, it won’t be for some time, and there will be a lot of hard work and difficult times between now and then, but I decided I was going to enjoy the feeling for at least one morning before I started worrying about everything else. One of the best parts of the idea is that it means he’s thinking of the future, which means that the defeat of Voldemort is something that he considers to be possible.

I’m also happy for Bill and Fleur, of course, and also for Remus and Tonks. Weddings are joyful occasions at any time, but deciding on my own and learning about that of some of our closest friends, while attending that of other close friends makes it even more special. Harry certainly has great timing!

We talked about a ring last night, and I told him it wasn’t important right now. He objected, but I pointed out that I wouldn’t be able to wear it without a concealment charm in any case. I know I haven’t seen Tonks wearing one. Speaking of that, we’ll find out more today about their plans. It’s likely that their ceremony will need to be today, since we’re scheduled to return to Britain this evening. Of course, I suppose we could change those plans, assuming the license on the Delacours’ portkeys doesn’t expire.

I think I’m going to go wake up Harry.

Harry slowly awoke from a very nice dream to an equally nice reality, as Hermione had decided to kiss him awake. He instinctively wrapped his arm around her and pulled her down, so that she ended up lying on top of him, which neither of them minded in the slightest. When she finally broke the kiss, he opened his eyes to see a dazzling smile on her face.

“What has you in such a good mood this morning?” he asked, returning her smile.

“Oh, it could be because I had such a wonderful time at a wedding yesterday,” she mused, pretending to ponder the question. “Or, it could be because I’ll be witnessing another wedding today.” She paused and bit her lip, cocking her head. “Or …”

“Or?” he prompted.

“Or it might be because the most wonderful man in the world asked me to marry him yesterday,” she gushed, breaking into a grin

“Sounds like one right lucky bloke to me,” he grinned back, pulling her close again. After another long, tender kiss, Harry leaned back as she curled up against him and he finally began to come aware of his surroundings.

“Isn’t it awfully early?” he wondered.

“A bit,” she confirmed. “But I couldn’t sleep anymore and decided I wanted to be with you. “And …” she drew back and gave him an impish grin.

“Yes?” He played along with her, unable to resist her uncharacteristically silly mood.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out and find some nice secluded spot on the grounds and catch some sun, like we talked about last night,” she suggested, coyly tracing her finger across his chest.

Harry’s eyes shot open, his interest now very much aroused, and he unconsciously licked his lips. Then he frowned. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit, or even any shorts.”

“Don’t worry,” Hermione announced with a gleam in her eye. “I brought a suit for you.”

“Which one?” he asked automatically.

“Which one do you think?” she responded in a low, suggestive voice. He immediately figured it out, and grimaced playfully. Of course, he knew which suit she liked to see on him. He also knew which suit he most wanted to see her in.

“And which suit of yours did you bring,” he inquired hopefully.

“Which one do you think?” Her tone of voice confirmed it for him, but he played along.

“The red one?”

She grinned saucily and reached out and tapped him on the nose, confirming his guess.

“Crimson.”

Harry hurriedly got dressed while Hermione went back to put her suit on under her clothes, and they met down in the dining room, where an assortment of breakfast foods had been laid out for them. Hermione inspected the offerings eagerly, happy to see a variety of pastries and other French items she had grown accustomed to at Beauxbatons, among the more traditional English fare.

While Harry loaded up his plate with a fried egg and toast and sausages, he also accepted her suggestion to try a flaky cheese croissant. Once they had settled into their seats their host joined them.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Delacour,” Hermione greeted him immediately. Harry attempted his own version of ‘bonjour’ only mangling it slightly. M. Delacour returned their greeting and nodded politely, then settled down next to them. After inquiring if they’d slept well, and a few other pleasantries, he grew more serious.

“I thought we might have that conversation this morning, while we have this time to ourselves. I have directed the house elves to divert any other early risers to another dining area for a few minutes. You said you had a favor to ask of me?”

“Yes,” Harry replied quickly. “We were wondering if we might be able to borrow the tent we used last summer.”

“Oh, are you planning to do some traveling?” the older man wondered. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance, which he noted.

“We might be, but the nature of our movements must be very confidential,” Hermione answered this time. “We felt that we could rely on your discretion.”

“Thank you,” M. Delacour responded immediately, surprising them. “You honor me by your trust.” They quickly worked out the details of the teens’ request.

“Now then, as for my offer to you,” the older man resumed. “Our Ministry of Magic is quite concerned with the situation that is developing in your country. While it is not possible for them to actively oppose the decisions being made by your ministry, there are other avenues of action to which they will not object.” There was a brief silence while the young couple digested this information.

“What about the International Confederation?” Hermione asked. “Is there anything they can do?”

“The Confederation has been in an unsettled state since Dumbledore’s death,” came the response. “They have not yet selected a new Supreme Mugwump. But their authority is limited, at best.”

“Sounds like the United Nations,” Hermione commented, half to Harry and half to herself.

“So, what are you suggesting, then,” Harry broke in, turning the discussion back to the original topic.

“I just happen to have a number of leftover portkeys,” their host informed them with a conspiratorial smirk. “For some reason we seem to have ordered far more than were required. They are all set to bring the user to this estate. I thought you might find a use for them.” Harry and Hermione exchanged another glance, somewhat confused. They had indeed discussed the usefulness of having portkeys available to get out of a tight spot, and one that would deliver them to a location guaranteed to be in friendly hands would indeed be valuable. But why the quantity that Fleur’s father seemed to be offering?

“I see that I should clarify further,” M. Delacour continued. “There are already quite a few British wizarding families fleeing your country due to your ministry’s restrictive policies. Several of them have resettled in my country.” Hermione immediately nodded her understanding, recalling that her friend Sally-Anne’s family had already made that decision. “It appears to us that this will soon become an even more urgent matter. We suspect that you might be in a position to assist with this process.” The French wizard folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Please give these portkeys to any family who might find themselves needing to leave your country on short notice. We will take care of them when they arrive, and assist them as well as we are able to make new living arrangements.”

Harry and Hermione fell silent, contemplating this most generous offer. Their host was suggesting that they, in essence, help smuggle refugees, mostly muggleborn wizards and witches and their families, out of Britain. And he was offering to make the Delacour estate the terminus of this latter day underground railroad.

“Won’t you get in trouble for the unauthorized portkeys?” Hermione wondered. “After all, this will vastly exceed the terms of their original authorization.”

M. Delacour favored them with a mirthless smile. “The responsibility for enforcing international portkey regulations lies with the Ministry of the country of destination. Your ministry will file a complaint with my ministry, which will assess a fine, which I will pay. My understanding is that it will be one Galleon per violation.” They all chuckled at the implication. By imposing such a trivial penalty, the French would be in effect thumbing their noses at the British, and sending a not so subtle message of disapproval of the policies of their neighbor across the Channel.

As we concluded our conversation, Gabrielle stumbled into the room, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. I quickly changed the subject, asking if there was a good place somewhere on the estate for Harry and me to relax and enjoy the sun. Gabrielle immediately perked up and announced that she knew just the spot. She hurried through her breakfast and raced out of the room to change into her swimsuit. She was so excited! It was quite the change from the sophisticated young lady at the wedding yesterday. Today, she’s back to being the young preteen girl with a crush on Harry Potter.

Her crush on Harry manifests itself differently than Ginny’s did. She’s not a bit shy around him, just excited. Fortunately, she isn’t clinging to any romantic fantasies, but rather has actively supported my relationship with him. I’m glad I made sure that Harry danced with her at the wedding. It really made her day.

She took us to a nice little pond, hidden away in a copse of trees. She told us that Fleur used to come here, and had magicked up a raft to lie out in the sun on, later sharing the secret spot with her younger sister. The raft has permanent cushioning charms on it to make it nice and comfortable. While Harry and I relaxed and basked in the sun, the little tease kept sneaking up on Harry and splashing him, then giggling and swimming away when he tried to get her back. She’s at that age where she sometimes wants to be grown up but sometimes still wants to be a kid. More than a girl but less than a woman. I suspect it’s trickier with her being a part-Veela.

The swimsuit she wore also nicely illustrated her almost-but-not-quite maturity. It was a cute, but not overly revealing two-piece. (Not nearly as skimpy as mine.) She is physically more developed than an average twelve year old, which I assume is also an aspect of being part-Veela. She has very nice legs, and her bust is much larger than mine was at that age. She’s more like how I looked at fourteen. On the other hand, she’s not completely outside of the normal range of development for girls. Lavender, for example, was that developed at age twelve, and I’m sure Susan also was, although I never shared a room with her, and didn’t really know her well back then.

We enjoyed the hour we spent at the pond so much that we wondered if we might stay over in France another day and spend a day on the beach at the Riviera. I teased Harry that he’d be able to see all those topless girls again. After he turned red, as I’d intended, he got me back by asking if I’d be among the topless girls. Not a chance! I’m only just barely brave enough to show myself to Harry like that. There’s no way I would be able to let anyone else see me.

That made me wonder if we should ask Ron if he wanted to join us if we do go to the beach. Given how much he stared at my top at the wedding, I don’t think I’d be comfortable wearing a skimpy bikini around him. Harry confirmed that he thought Ron would go spare on a topless beach.

By the time the three of them returned to the mansion, Ron was in the middle of breakfast, making his way through a mound of sausages.

“Hi guys, where you been?” he called out, fortunately taking care to swallow first. “And why does Hermione have a red string tied around her neck?”

Harry and Hermione shared a smile, and Harry grinned at Ron. “It’s crimson,” he corrected.

“Huh?”

“The color is crimson, it’s part of Hermione’s swimsuit, and the reason she’s wearing it is that we’ve just been for a swim with Gabrielle at her secret pond.” Harry gave the young girl a wink, which elicited a grin and a giggle before she dashed from the room.

Ron shot Harry a strange look before turning his attention more closely to his other best friend. His gaze dropped from the red string around her neck down to her torso, no doubt trying to extrapolate the rest of the swim costume from this miniscule beginning. He frowned as his result consistently came up short of an adequate amount of coverage.

Harry broke off his mate’s analysis, feeling he’d stared at Hermione’s chest long enough, by stepping in front of her and blocking the view. Ron blinked and turned a guilty look toward Harry, hoping he wasn’t about to get hexed. When he saw only amusement on his fellow Gryffindor’s face, he relaxed and then remembered the message he’d been asked to pass on.

“Tonks and Remus want to talk to you as soon as you’ve dressed and had breakfast.”

Hermione squeezed Harry’s hand and nodded toward the stairs, indicating that she wanted to change out of her suit (not because it was wet – she was a witch after all – but she reasoned they’d be more comfortable in regular clothing), and they both announced that they’d be ready in a trice.

Tonks was as giddy as I’ve ever seen her when we finally met up with them in M. Delacour’s study, which he’d assured us would be completely private. It’s understandable, of course, since she’s getting married today. I suspect that I’ll be pretty giddy on the day Harry and I marry, too. While I was thinking of that, I gave Harry a nudge and shot him a questioning look, while mouthing, ‘Should we tell them now?’. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled and nodded. Of course, that made Tonks even giddier, and she squealed and gave me a hug. Remus beamed at us and congratulated Harry, telling him he’d figured it was only a matter of time, as he could tell we were so well suited for each other.

By the time we finished working out the details of their wedding, Tonks had settled down. At this point she turned quite serious and informed us that she’d resigned from the Aurors. Robards will find her letter of resignation on his desk when he arrives for work tomorrow morning. Even though we’d known it was probably inevitable, it was still something of a shock, as she’s been an Auror ever since we’ve known her. Remus revealed that the two of them were going to go underground and continue to carry on the battle that way. Tonks added wryly that they’d likely be more effective than she’d been working for the Ministry. I can well imagine that would be the case. She can literally disguise herself as anyone, and Remus has had lots of experience in blending into the darker parts of society. They will be a formidable team. I suspect that this may well lead to increased attrition among Death Eaters.

Then Remus rather pointedly asked us if we were doing something that the two of them could help with. Harry and I shared a look. I shrugged, letting him know it was his decision and I’d support him either way. Then he did the same with Ron and Ron nodded. Harry announced that we should all make ourselves comfortable because this was going to be a long story.

Since they already knew there was a prophecy about Harry and Voldemort, and had probably guessed at what it might say, Harry started there, then told them in general terms about Voldemort’s efforts to make himself immortal. Both Remus and Tonks took the information calmly, keeping their emotions under control, and asked some perceptive questions. They clearly understood how sensitive this information was, and suggested that they take a vow of secrecy that would prevent them from revealing any of this knowledge. After some deliberation, we agreed. As long as Voldemort has no idea we’re searching for his Horcruxes, he’s not likely to bring them up in questioning, in the event that either of them is captured and tortured. And it’s more likely that any questioning would be carried out by his Death Eaters, and there is little chance that they are even aware of the Horcruxes’ existence.

At that point Harry gave them the specifics of the Horcruxes we knew about and the ones we suspected. It was agreed that Remus and Tonks would mostly operate on their own, but that we would call them in for assistance to retrieve one if we had a solid lead. At that point I mentioned the mirrors. Remus, of course, recognized the idea, as he’d been aware of the pair that James and Sirius had used. He was quite interested in the fact that I’d made two different types – ones keyed to two specific people and ones that could be used by anyone. I’d finished three more, of the general type, intending one each for Harry, Ron, and me, but it now makes more sense for them to have one of them. So Harry will carry one, Ron one, and Remus one. I don’t actually need one of those, since I can still communicate with Harry on the original pair, in the event that we’re separated. And that’s not likely to happen very often.

Harry told them they were free to use Headquarters whenever they needed to, and that the three of us would also be staying there for the immediate future. They both knew about the traps Moody had set for Snape, but were still a bit concerned about us living there by ourselves. Harry pointed out that with what we’d told them about the prophecy and the mission we’d undertaken, we would likely be in much more dangerous situations than that. Neither of them liked that thought, but eventually accepted it. Then Harry revealed that he and I had reason to believe that Snape was still working on our side. Ron scowled at that. He still doesn’t trust Snape at all.

Initially the pair of them also were skeptical, but after Harry and I explained our reasoning, the messages Snape had given him, and his actions during the battle at Privet Drive, they at least conceded the possibility. They’re taking a wait and see attitude, which will include a critical examination of the value of any future information we might get from him.

The final thing Harry mentioned was his desire to go to Godric’s Hollow. Remus thought about that and surprised us by apologizing. He felt bad that Harry had never been there, and that he knew so little about his parents. It was evidently a matter of him assuming that Sirius or Dumbledore had told him more. Harry made a sarcastic comment about Dumbledore’s reluctance to share any information with him. This generated a raised eyebrow from Remus, and a confused look from Tonks, but after seeing the look on his face neither of them pressed him for details.

“I declare you bonded for life.”

Once again, Harry and Hermione’s eyes were locked together as these words were pronounced, as they beamed at each other from their respective places at the sides of the bride and groom. This time the audience was considerably smaller, and the venue was the great room of Delacour Manor. Only a few of their closest friends witnessed the marriage of RemusLupin and NymphadoraTonks, and the need for secrecy necessitated them keeping this knowledge to themselves.

Molly and Arthur had returned home the night before, to handle farewell duties for all of their guests using the portkeys to the Burrow. Bill and Fleur were, of course, off on their honeymoon. Charlie stayed around to attend, as he had been in school with Tonks. The younger Weasley children, who had all had Remus as a Defense professor and had interacted with Tonks during the summer at Grimmauld Place, were also present. The only other attendees were Andromeda and Ted Tonks, Mr. and Mrs. Delacour, Gabrielle, and a few other Order members.

Mr. Delacour had offered to perform the bonding at the ceremony, which surprised Harry and Hermione. To Hermione’s inevitable question, he replied that any wizard could perform a bonding, since the magic in the vows came from the couple being married. Their host also offered roses from his gardens for the bride’s bouquet, and some as well for the maid of honor to carry. He took Hermione and Harry out to the garden to help select them, and she chose bright red ones for Tonks.

“So what’s the official name of this color?” Harry had asked with a grin. Hermione smiled and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, then explained that roses often had evocative names. They decided that this one should be ‘Passion Red’. Tonks was going with violet hair today (it was her wedding and she was determined to wear her favorite color). Hermione thought a deep red color would complement it nicely. While she was cutting some, Harry found an extraordinary dark purple variety that he called to her attention. She agreed that it would go perfectly with her lilac gown, and rewarded him with a much more thorough kiss. (Not being so vain as to require two different dresses for the two weddings, she would naturally wear the lilac one again for today’s ceremony.)

Before leaving on her honeymoon, Fleur had insisted that Tonks wear her wedding gown, as her gift to the new couple. The gown had needed no alterations, since Tonks could make herself fit into any garment, except for the low cut strapless top. The spell that had held it in place had evidently been a personal charm of Fleur’s. After a rather revealing ‘wardrobe malfunction’ (fortunately, Hermione and Gabrielle had been the only ones present to witness it) Hermione conjured up some white spaghetti straps and sewed them onto the top so that Tonks’s modesty might be preserved during the ceremony. Hermione reminded her that the conjuration was not permanent, but cheekily added that she didn’t expect that the gown would need to stay in place for more than a few hours.

Tonks smirked and agreed, adding that Remus was quite vigorous in that particular area, virility and stamina being some of the few benefits of his lycanthropy. She also opined that Fleur was in for a real treat, if Bill had acquired a touch of these particular traits. As she expected, this revelation generated a furious blush from Fleur’s twelve-year-old sister, but she also noted a similar glow on Hermione’s cheeks. Upon prompting, Hermione revealed that she and Harry had not yet progressed to that stage of their relationship. On reflection, Tonks decided that she was not surprised, given what she knew of Harry and Hermione’s character.

But the level of intimacy between their two teenaged attendants was the furthest thing from the minds of the newlyweds as they turned to accept the applause of their small group of friends. As Harry and Hermione joined hands to follow them, it appeared that they would enjoy a smaller scale repeat of the joyful merriment of the previous day.

Unfortunately, the happiness was soon interrupted. Just as they were all sitting down to eat, Harry winced and grabbed his forehead. As Hermione looked on in concern, he grimaced and determined to fill his mind with pleasant thoughts, specifically his love for Hermione. He ended up focusing on the look on her face when he asked her to marry him, and that did the trick.

Once he relaxed he realized that Hermione was squeezing his hand, and he leaned over to reassure her. “Voldemort’s really excited. It must be something really big because this is the first time he’s let anything slip through all summer. I managed to drive it off, though.”

“How?” Harry grinned, knowing he could have safely bet the entire value of Gringotts that she’d ask that follow-up question.

“I just thought about how much I love you.” The look that filled her face at that response made him want to wrap her up in his arms and carry her away somewhere private, but they were in the middle of a wedding reception. They settled for a gentle, loving kiss and turned back to their meals, somewhat subdued with the realization that something bad was happening.

They didn’t have to wait long. While everyone else was still enjoying their dinner, before Harry had even had a chance to give his toast (which Hermione had helped him prepare) an owl soared into the hall. A gasp of recognition from Tonks alerted everyone to the fact that it was an official Ministry owl, one used only for emergency communications. A hush fell over the small gathering as Tonks took the parchment, read it, and paled. Beside her Remus took the scroll from her limp hands and gave it another look. Then he rose to his feet.

“Rufus Scrimgeour has been assassinated.”

The uproar that greeted this announcement drowned him out temporarily, and Harry and Hermione’s hands instantly found each other and squeezed hard, as they shared a horrified stare. Quickly, though, the initial outburst subsided and the group quieted enough to hear what else Remus had to say.

“Pius Thicknesse is now the Acting Minister,” he continued in a somber voice. “The borders have been sealed and all international portkey authorizations have been cancelled. And all Aurors have been ordered to report in immediately.” At this he locked eyes with his new bride.

Hermione found herself on her feet, being pulled along after Harry as he swiftly covered the short distance to Remus’s side. “Well, I guess Robards will find out about my resignation a few hours early,” Tonks quipped as they arrived, having recovered from her initial shock and now using an attempt at humor to battle the dread that was settling over everyone. She grabbed a quill and scribbled out a hasty note on the back of the fateful parchment and returned it to the waiting owl. Without any further delay it launched itself from the table and disappeared from sight. “I suppose I’m technically AWOL now. But Robards is a pretty good guy and …” She shrugged and her shoulders fell as Remus quickly wrapped his arms around her.

“I suspect they’ll have more important things to worry about than sending a team here to arrest you,” her new husband suggested soothingly. “This just means we become fugitives a day sooner than we would have otherwise. I think we can still stay here tonight, though.” The small group that had gathered at the head table all agreed with that suggestion. Since the British border wards would repel any incoming portkeys until the emergency decree was lifted, they all would have to apparate back home from one of the International Apparation points. But that would need to wait until the next day.

The festive mood had vanished, however, so after everyone finished their meal, and made a few half-hearted attempts at some slow dances, they called it a night. The small company of friends returned to their rooms pondering the implications of this latest development, and realizing that none of them were good.

-0x0x0-

From the Journal of Hermione Granger – July 28

We made it back home, but not without a few anxious moments. Harry sat with me in my room last night and held me until we’d both settled down, and we talked about what we had to do. The idea of a stop at a beach on the Riviera now seemed rather frivolous. It was time to get back to our task. When I finally fell asleep in his arms, he tucked me into my bed and returned to his room.

This morning we accompanied the remaining Weasleys and the rest of the Order to Paris and the International Apparation point. Remus and Tonks stayed behind, not sure how they’d return, but realizing that the Ministry officials would snap them up instantly if they were identified. It was decided that Harry and I would investigate the situation in Paris to see if we thought we could sneak through, before making a decision. What we saw there sickened me. It was like a scene out of a Holocaust movie. There were British Ministry officials checking the identities of everyone after they passed through the French checkpoint, but before they were allowed to apparate back to Britain. Any ‘undesirables’, mostly consisting of muggleborn witches and wizards, were taken out of the line and sent to a separate location. I fear that those people may never see their homes again.

My heart was in my throat as I watched, from under Harry’s invisibility cloak, while one family was pulled aside. The father was evidently a halfblood or a pureblood, but the mother was a muggleborn. When they separated her from the others, her children started crying and the father struggled with the Aurors, shouting at them to let her go. He was stunned and portkeyed away. At this point the children, a boy and a girl about five and seven years old, became positively terrified. Harry started to move forward to help them, and I had to hold tightly to his shoulder to stop him from revealing himself.

It wouldn’t have done any good. Fred and George were much closer, and they immediately tried to go comfort the children, but before they could reach them the DMLE officials had scooped them up and taken them to their mother. The kids calmed down, but now I imagine they’ll share her fate. Harry turned to me with a look of fierce determination in his eyes, and I knew immediately that neither of us would rest until we’d rescued as many muggleborns from this corrupt Ministry as possible.

While it was a good thing that we held back and concealed ourselves, since it could easily have been me being pulled out of the line, it was extremely frustrating not to be able to do anything. We decided that we needed to get back to England as soon as possible.

Back at the Delacours, Remus and Tonks merely nodded grimly at our news, as though they had expected it. Tonks suggested that we take the Channel tunnel train back to London, like Harry did when he came to France last summer. Harry balked, worrying that the Ministry might have the other end being watched. I was also somewhat concerned about the expense, since we’re having to watch our costs this year. Then Harry wondered why we couldn’t just fly back.

It was rather amusing, given the dire circumstances, to see Remus and Tonks’s reaction to that suggestion. Wizards apparently never fly between countries. It’s just not done, therefore they didn’t even consider the possibility. Tonks finally informed us that it’s illegal. Harry’s only response to that was, “Whoops.” I couldn’t help myself – I burst out laughing. The expression on his face – it started out as chagrin but changed to resignation with a touch of deviousness – was so precious. It never occurred to him when he flew from Hogwarts to Beauxbatons last February that such things simply weren’t done.

We were amazed to learn that the two of them didn’t think they could do it even if they wanted to, as they wouldn’t even know which direction to go! Wizards apparently never study geography. Given how they travel, I guess I can understand that. They rarely need to know how to get from one place to another, they apparate or they floo. Just like you don’t need to know where someone lives on order to ring him up on the phone. They did know that France was across the Channel from England, but not much more than that.

So Harry and I took charge. Fortunately, I’d packed my broomstick in my bag, and Harry always carries his Firebolt with him. To even out the loads Tonks rode with Harry and Remus with me. I let Harry lead since he’d made the trip before but I had a pretty good idea of the route to follow just in case we lost contact. We disillusioned ourselves, of course – Constant Vigilance, right? (We still miss Mad-Eye terribly.)

To save time we flooed from the Delacour estate to an office M. Delacour keeps in Paris. This reduced the length of our flight to just over 300 km – about three hours at normal cruising speed. We arrived at Grimmauld Place by suppertime.

Ron was already there, along with Fred and George. Mrs. Weasley was terribly conflicted. She didn’t want him to go, but after hearing about the scene at the Apparation Point, she knew the Burrow wouldn’t be safe for me, at least. She finally agreed, so long as Fred and George went with him and stayed until some other adults arrived. She also sent along an enormous amount of food. Cooking up a storm is the way she deals with stress.

Fred and George stayed until after supper. While we ate, we told the three of them about flying back. All of them thought it was brilliant. When we finished eating, the twins wished us luck, told us to let them know if we needed any help, and headed back to their shop. The two of them are pretty bright, so I suspect they have some idea of what we’re up to. And they were almost as strongly affected by that scene at the Apparation Point as we were, so I have a strong feeling they’ll be cooking up some plans to help muggleborns escape as well.

After we finished eating we sorted out the room situation. Remus and Tonks took the guest bedroom on the first floor. It’s away from the rest of the bedrooms, so they’ll have more privacy. Ron fell in love with Sirius’s room, so Harry told him he could have it. He claims it’s the Gryffindor color scheme, but I bet the topless posters on the wall are also a factor. It’s just as well – I doubt if Harry would be comfortable with all the reminders of Sirius, and this also puts Ron on a separate floor from us.

We all insisted that Harry take the master bedroom on the third floor. I put my things in the other bedroom on that floor. I have no intention on actually sleeping in this room, though. As soon as I’m finished writing this and everyone else has settled down for the night, I’m heading across the hall.

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, his mind flooded with thoughts, concerns, and emotions, not the least of which was the young woman in the bedroom across the hall. From the look she’d given him when they were selecting their bedrooms, he had an idea he might not have seen the last of her this evening. His suspicions were proven correct when a light tapping sounded on his door. It cracked open, and Hermione’sheadpoked in.

“Hi,” he greeted her softly as she slipped in and closed the door. “I thought you might be stopping by.”

Hermione stood there for a moment smiling nervously, not quite as confident as she’d been a moment ago. “I thought you might want to brush my hair again,” she temporized. Harry’s smile evaporated her insecurities as he scooted back on the bed and opened his arms in invitation. Hermione smiled back and removed her dressing gown, draping it over a chair, and slid up on the bed in front of him. As he worked on her hair, she closed her eyes in contentment and snuggled closer.

When Harry announced that he was finished, Hermione sat up and pulled her camisole top off, leaving only her knickers. She smiled coyly at the wide-eyed look this generated as she proceeded to pull the bedclothes back.

“I’m, uh, not quite sure I’m ready for …” he stammered as he lay down next to her and allowed her to curl up under his arm.

“I’m not either,” she explained, adding a light kiss on his shoulder to show her appreciation for his thoughtfulness. “But I’ve been wanting to do this ever since that last night at Hogwarts, and I want to keep doing it every chance we get. Cuddling up together and sleeping with you holding me is all I need right now. I just think I’ll like it better dressed like this, and I bet you will too.” She raised herself up enough so that he could see her sly grin, and he grinned back.

“No disagreement there,” he proclaimed fervently, grinning broadly back at her. The young lovers teased back and forth a while longer, then fell asleep in each other’s arms.

-oooOOOooo-

Rose giggled as her mother leaned back and closed the notebook, a soft smile on her face. “Are you sure sleeping was the only thing you did?” she teased.

“You have no idea how good it feels to sleep cuddled up with the man you love,” Hermione replied softly. “That feeling of comfort, contentment, and safety is at least as important in a relationship as making love.” She smiled down at her daughter and reached out and hugged her. “You’ll understand some day.”