Weasley Magic

by Amebb42

Summary:

Fred is going to die in the middle of the battle, but George will do anything to stop it - including compromising himself as well.

To save the twins, the Weasleys will do whatever they must - even a ritual created from their Family Legacies. The only problem? The ritual requires a woman to marry all seven of them. When no one else comes forward, Hermione volunteers.

Notes:

This was originally posted for Evil Author Day, but the overwhelming response was that people would be interested in a story like this, soooo... it will be continuing. I still, at this time, am not committing to a regular update schedule. But I do have a general plan of where it's going now and I'm excited about it, so I don't think that the updates will be too far apart. I hope you enjoy the story, please let me know! I try not to beg for comments, but I do love them.

IF YOU READ THIS WHEN IT WAS ORIGINALLY POSTED (Feb 16, 2021):
Since it *is* going to be a longer story, this first chapter has changed significantly. I recommend re-reading it if you read it before. The way the magic works has been better explained and some other changes were made that will make parts of the story make more sense later on. I will also be splitting up this first chapter into two so that it isn't quite so long as the additions have expanded this part of the story by another 2k+ words.

I am now working with Lady Winterlight and Omnenomnom as alphabets, but I will still claim any mistakes as my own.

The characters and world are not my own. They belong to Rowling.

Chapter 1

The battle still raged around them, but George couldn’t bring himself to care. Percy was protecting them as they moved through the hallways; George’s entire attention was on Fred. Hermione had helped put a stasis charm on him before the trio dashed off on their quest, her worried eyes looking back over her shoulder as she warned him to get Fred to Madam Pomfrey as quickly and carefully as possible.

“Percy!” George cried as a Death Eater ran at them from the front and his brother, distracted by another behind them, did not move up in time to keep Fred from being jostled. George had to drop his twin as gently as he could manage while making good enough time to stun the man coming at them. 

“There are too many of them, George!”” Percy said, his voice on the edge of panic.

“We have to keep going! Fred won’t make it without Pomfrey.” George was determined. There was no way he was giving up on his twin. 

“George!” the familiar voice of Lee Jordan shouted. He could have wept in relief to see him and Angelina Johnson running in his direction. “Oi! Where’s…”

Angelina’s voice collapsed to a whisper on “Fred…” when she saw him on the floor where George had left him.

George tried not to panic at their reactions when they saw Fred. “He’s going to be fine!” he shouted their way, trying to sound confident. “I just need to get him to Madam Pomfrey. Percy’s overrun. Help us!”

His friends nodded grimly, both of them letting their eyes slide away from Fred’s bruised and crumpled body. Now they were on either side of him and George was able to lift his brother back into the air and start forward again. Percy ran up to walk beside him, panting and covered in sweat. His eyes tracked back to Fred with a worried glance.

“George, are you sure…”

“Of course I’m sure! I’m his twin. I would know . He’s going to be okay, Perce. Just help me get him there.”

The four of them surrounded Fred like an honor guard, taking out any Death Eater stupid enough to come their way. For the most part, they were actually left alone once several tried and failed. 

But then they were headed down the west staircase toward the hospital wing when something crashed through the wall behind them. George immediately changed his stance to protective, the sound of another falling wall making him scream with the fear that this one would remove Fred from his life forever. 

It wasn’t the wall that turned out to be the danger. An enormous giant was now looking through the hole it had made. 

“Go, George!” Percy shouted as he and Angelina raced toward it, wands already shooting spells.

Lee grabbed his shoulder, “Come on! We just have to get down the staircase and around the corner!”

George surged forward again, his hand on Fred’s inanimate body. He was trying to ignore the sounds above and behind them. The giant’s roars of rage, the sounds of spells firing. Percy was shouting something at Angelina. Then there was a scream that stopped George and Lee both in their tracks just as they reached the first floor.

Spinning to look, George already knew he didn’t want to see what it was. Angelina flew through the air and slammed against the wall on the other side of the staircase, her head hanging at a funny angle. Even from here, he could see a trickle of blood oozing down her chin from her mouth. 

“NO!!!” 

He wasn’t sure if it was he or Lee who had screamed. Percy was running down the stairs toward them, tears running down his face. 

“She killed it. But she had to get too close,” his brother sobbed. “I couldn’t… there was nothing…”

George wasn’t sure how to keep moving, but Lee was pulling him again, Fred between them. They pulled open the giant doors and were inside the relative peace of the infirmary. 

“Madam Pomfrey! Madam!” he got her attention. “Please help! Please - it’s Fred!”

The matron bustled over. “Get him on a bed.”

George gently lowered Fred to the bed and backed up just enough that Madam Pomfrey could get close. He watched her face fall when she looked him over. When she cast a diagnostic over him, nearly every symbol above his body was red. George didn’t know the exact meaning of the symbols, but he knew red was not good.

As she turned to speak to him, George could see it in her eyes. Before she got a sound out, he started crying. “No! I can’t lose him! He’s going to be okay. You can fix him!”

“Mr. Weasley,” the old matron spoke in her most consoling tone, “Your brother is in a tremendous amount of pain. I do not have the resources and there are far too many in need of my attention who can be helped. I am sorry, but we have to let Fred go.”

“NO!” George dropped to his knees. The absolute anguish of hearing that was too much to even stand. Percy was on the ground next to him within seconds, holding onto him for dear life.

Lee pushed forward. “Angelina died to get him here, Madam Pomfrey! There must be something you can do.” There were tears streaming down his cheeks.

“There is nothing…”

George’s voice was deadly calm as he cut in. “Could he be healed if things were calm? If there wasn’t a battle raging and other people needing attention? Could he?” He was on his feet again, though he didn’t remember how it had happened.

Madam Pomfrey looked ten years older than she had only moments before. “Possibly. There’s no guarantee. His body has sustained far more damage than…”

“But there would be a chance?”

“It hardly matters,” she looked at him with pity. “We are in the middle of a battle and he is too far gone for me to help him.”

“We’re twins. Identical, bonded twins. Link us. I’ll share my life force with him.”

Everyone looked taken aback for a moment.

“George, no,” Percy cried. “We could lose you both.”

“I don’t care!” he screamed, shaking Percy away. “Please, Madam Pomfrey. He can’t die.”

“Your brother is right. You could die, too. You would probably both die.” Her voice was shaking.

“Do it,” George said. “Where do you want me?”

“George, this may kill you,” Lee said, his tears pouring out now. 

“I’m already dead without him,” he whispered. He and Lee stared at each other for a moment before Lee nodded. 

Percy stood, his whole body shaking. “I won’t let you do this. I’m your big brother, and I won’t stand back and watch this…”

Lee grabbed Percy around the chest and began dragging him toward the door. “I love you, George. Do what you need to do,” Lee said.

“NO!” Percy was screaming. “Take me instead.”

“You’re not his twin,” George said, his voice hollow with fear and worry. Then he turned to Madam Pomfrey and gave a nod. “We should do it now so you can get back to helping everyone else.”

There was a moment when George feared she wouldn’t help. She looked at him like she’d never seen him before. Then she let out a sigh and put her hands on his shoulders, her eyes meeting his directly. “I can’t promise anything - for either of you - if I do this.”

“We just need a chance,” George said, the determination ringing in his voice.

Madam Pomfrey gave a sharp nod, swished her wand so that the little bed doubled in size, and spoke briskly. “Lay down next to him. Listen carefully, I’ll be telling your family later as well, but it is of the utmost importance that the two of you be treated as soon as possible after the battle. It won’t be possible for you to stay in this stasis very long. Your life force should sustain his, but it can only hold two of you here for so long before both of you would be drained. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey,” George said, slipping his hand into his twin’s. It was the last thing he remembered before blackness enveloped him.

 

************************

 

It was almost unbelievable that it was over. Voldemort was truly dead. Harry was finally safe, even if he had to die first to get there. 

Of course, that was only the surface of things. Their quest was over, but there was so much more to be done. The entire Wizarding World would have to be rebuilt. Hogwarts would have to be rebuilt. Before that, though, were the people. Hermione couldn’t even think yet about all the people who would need to be buried. 

Her focus right now was the Weasley family. They had lost Arthur. Molly was in a magically-induced coma while the Healers figured out the last curse that Bellatrix flung before Molly’s spell took her down. Then there were the twins. They were using George’s life force to sustain both of them in a stasis hold more powerful than any Hermione had seen before, but the Healers were going to have to pull them out of it soon or they both would die. 

Bill, as the family patriarch, was trying to hold himself together and still make the impossible choices that had to be made. “Yes, take them out of stasis,” he wearily answered Healer Jacobs, the one in charge of the twins’ care. “Just… please have everything set up to keep them both alive before you pull them out.”

Hermione could tell Healer Jacobs was irritated at being told how to do her job, but the slim woman patiently nodded anyway. “Of course, Mr. Weasley. Now, I’ll need you all to sit out in the waiting room while we work on this. We will give you an update as soon as we are able to assess their situation.”

Bill looked conflicted until Fleur stepped up to take his hand and began pushing the rest of the bunch out. Percy, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny shuffled out of the room, all of them looking back at the pale forms of the twins. They were typically so full of life. It was terrifying to see them lying so still together. 

In the waiting area, Harry pulled Ginny into his lap where they wrapped themselves in each other. Percy dropped into a chair, head falling forward into his hands. Bill began pacing, trying to look in control, but failing. Fleur would grab his arm now and then and try to whisper things to calm him. 

Ron was standing next to Hermione in a daze it seemed, when he suddenly turned toward the hallway. “I’ll just go see Mum then,” he announced.

“Wait,” Hermione said, pulling at his hand. Charlie was in the room with their Mum. Hermione didn’t know him well, but it didn’t take much to see that he had needed to fall apart while the other siblings were elsewhere. The time it took for the healers to explain the twins’ dire situation wasn’t much. She seriously doubted he was done.

“For what?” Ron asked her, seeming irritated. “I can’t do anything about the twins. Let’s go see Mum.”

“Ron, I think Charlie needed some time,” she told him. “Alone.”

“We all need time, Mione. And rest. And sweet goddess some food. But right now all we have is each other. I’m going to Mum, and if Charlie is in there, maybe he needs his family, too.” Ron’s voice was firm. He sighed, running his thumb over the back of her hand while pulling it away from him. “You know… why don’t you stay out here with them?” 

He was gentle about it, but he shoved her away just a little in that moment and Hermione was ashamed to realize it hurt.

She knew they were all drowning in grief and each of them would have to cope with it in their own way. She was grateful Ron had been so mature about his statement. Still. Hours ago there had been that kiss. Did it mean something to him? She wasn’t even sure what it meant to her, but she knew that the idea of it meaning nothing hurt. The idea of him pushing her away hurt.

Merlin, she was confused. She sat down in the chair next to Harry, careful not to make a sound as Ginny had cried herself to sleep in his arms. Hermione felt relieved when he leaned his head onto her shoulder. One of her boys still wanted her around. Logic said they both did, or would, but it was all too much right now. Months on the run. The torture she had endured mere weeks ago. The battle. All the people they had lost, others wounded like Fred, who might never wake. Her exhaustion made the emotions impossible to control. She was crying softly, eyes closed, as she leaned her head onto Harry’s, when someone sat down next to her and caught her hand in theirs. 

She had expected it to be Ron, but the hand was wrong - heavily calloused, and the fingers not so long. Her eyes flickered open, the tears still streaming down, to see Charlie next to her. He wasn’t looking at her face, just staring down at their joined hands. 

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, looking up at her. She could feel him trembling slightly and see the tear stains on his cheeks as his stormy blue eyes searched her brown ones. If such a small act from a virtual stranger was what he needed, she was willing to give it. She was surprised that he hadn’t gone to Percy or Bill, but then she realized that Percy had disappeared and Bill was absorbed by Fleur. She was the only choice left for comfort. Hermione could have been offended, but she really just felt grateful that she could be there for him.

She started to ask if he was okay, but that was a stupid question. None of them were okay. Charlie didn’t really seem inclined to talk about it, but from the way he was gripping her hand, Hermione knew he was struggling. She found herself rubbing her thumb in what she hoped were calming circles on his scarred skin. 

Their hands were still joined when she woke up, who knows how long later, in Charlie’s lap, curled against his chest. She really didn’t remember how she got there. 

Unfortunately, she knew exactly what woke her. Ron was snarling at Charlie. “I said get your hands off my girlfriend.”

“And I said to shut up before you wake her,” Charlie said quietly. His voice was firm but betrayed no emotion. It was the way his hand trembled in hers and how fast his heart was beating against her ear that told Hermione he was upset. 

“She barely knows you. Let go of her before you wake her up and freak her out.”

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Charlie hissed back. “Just offering a shoulder for her to cry on when she needed it. Where were you for that little brother?”

She stirred, pushing away from Charlie’s chest with her free hand to sit up. For a brief moment, he resisted, his arms squeezing her tighter, before dropping to merely balance her. His hand still clung to hers like a lifeline. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, deciding it was best to pretend she hadn’t heard anything. 

“What are you doing with Charlie?” Ron snapped, his ire turning on her.

Before she could answer, Charlie said, “I told you, she fell asleep and I picked her up because I thought she would sleep better with me than on these awful chairs.” 

“Thank you, Charlie,” she said. “That was very thoughtful.”

“Bloody hell it was. He just wanted to get his hands on you,” Ron insisted. “It’s bloody disrespectful considering you’re my girlfriend.”

Hermione stared at one of her two best friends. “When did that happen? I don’t think I was there for it.” 

“What? But we... we kissed!” Ron sputtered. 

“We did,” she replied. “And I liked it, but we haven’t talked about being boyfriend and girlfriend. You don’t get to assume like that.”

“So what - you’d rather be with Charlie?” Ron snarled. “Suddenly now that no one is dying and we’re out of that damn tent I’m not good enough for you anymore? You’d rather be with someone positively ancient instead?”

Hermione finally moved off Charlie’s lap, standing to go toe to toe with Ron. “I would rather you stop being a prat! All I said was that I’m not your girlfriend until we’ve talked about it. You didn’t even ask! Why are you attacking your brother?”

“Because he wants you, Mione, and he can’t-”

Charlie’s hand slid out of hers and he stood beside her. “I’m sorry, Ron. I wasn’t bloody trying anything, just wanted to make something a little better for someone. I couldn’t help Dad. There’s nothing I can do for Mum or the twins. I can’t… I just want to do something.”

He seemed so sad that Hermione wanted to hug him, but that would only make things worse. 

“Yeah, well, do something for someone else. She’s mine and I need her. We’re all in desperate need of a lot of things right now.”

Feeling forced to make a decision, she stepped forward into Ron, who pulled her roughly to his chest. She didn’t have long to worry about Charlie as Bill pulled him away. Looking past Ron, she could see an intense conversation before Charlie and Percy left together.

Bill was heading toward Harry and Ginny when Healer Jacobs was suddenly in their midst along with two other healers. All three looked grim. 

“William Weasley?”

Bill stepped forward. 

“We have brought Fred and George Weasley out of stasis. Fred is beyond our capabilities to help. If he had gotten to us sooner, perhaps. But we can do nothing for him now except ease the pain of passing.”

Ginny sunk to the floor, with Harry following her. Ron leaned heavily on Hermione as she burst into tears. Bill looked like he might pass out at any moment. 

“And George?” He prompted in a whisper. 

“It is possible he will live, but the odds are not good. Tying his life force to his twin through their bond has nearly sealed his fate to Fred’s. There is a slim chance that as Fred dies, we might sever their twin bond completely and there might be enough of George’s life force left for him to live.”

“He’ll die for sure if you sever their bond!” Ron shouted. Hermione tried to calm him but he was beyond that. He pushed her roughly away. “No, Hermione. I didn’t just spend years fighting for the wizarding world just to lose half my damn family now.”

Bill rounded on him, “Shut it, Ron.”

“Mr. Weasley, do we have your permission to let Fred Weasley pass? Without your consent, he may linger for days, in excruciating pain the whole time.”

Bill was so pale Hermione was sure he couldn’t remain standing a moment longer, but he let his eyes glide over Ron and Ginny, then turned to the Healer. 

“Can he be given pain potions for now? Two of our brothers aren’t here right now to say goodbye. And our Mum is in another unit. They think she’ll be out in a day or so. I think she needs to see them again before…” Bill sobbed so hard he couldn’t continue. Both Fleur and Ginny went to him. 

Healer Jacobs pursed her lips. “That can be arranged, though it would be better to just let them… him go now.”

Hermione didn’t miss that slip. The likelihood of losing them both was very high then. She choked on a sob of her own. How could the happy, boisterous twins suddenly leave this world? How would the rest of them ever find happiness again?

“I understand that but there are some… things we need to get in order.”

“Of course, Mr. Weasley,” the healer responded pityingly.

As soon as the healers went back into the room, Bill called to them. “Come here, all of you. We need to go to The Burrow.” 

“What? No!” Ginny yelled. “I’m not leaving the twins and Mum here.”

Bill put his hand to his temple. “I don’t want to leave them either, but we have to do some research, and we don’t have much time. I need everyone working together.”

“No way! I am staying with Mum!” Ron declared. 

“Ronald, hush. Let him tell us about the research we need to do,” Hermione said. 

“Course you want to do research,” Ron muttered, but she chose to ignore him as Bill had started talking again. 

“The Family Legacies. I believe there might be something there that could save them. Charlie and Percy went to my vault to get them but we will need to look through them thoroughly.”

“You say that like Family Legacies are an object. What are they?” Hermione asked. 

“Nothing that anyone outside of the family needs to know about. You included,” Ron said. Bill gave him a pointed look. 

“Harry and Hermione are family just as much as you and I. They’re helping unless they don’t want to.”

“Says who?” Ron snapped. 

Bill stood up straighter and Hermione noticed that the air around him seemed to shimmer with his magic. “As the eldest male heir of the House of Weasley and the House of Prewett, head of both families, I, William Weasley, declare a bonding of family between our Noble Selves and the Noble House of Potter. Hermione Granger, while not of noble house, shall be recognized by our families as a foundling unto House Potter, sister of Harry, and treated as family at hearth and home. They are allies of our families, entrusted with our secrets and as one with our family fortunes.” 

Hermione found her hand in Harry’s. She wasn’t sure when he had moved next to her. Where their hands met, there was a prickling sensation. Memories overwhelmed her - the two of them carrying an angry crate full of Norbert under the invisibility cloak, clinging to Harry on Buckbeak’s back, pillows zooming back and forth across the room as she helped him practice Accio , hundreds of images of them laughing and talking and doing homework, the moments by his parents’ grave at Christmas, their time together after Ron left them in the woods. So much of her life featured her little brother, Harry. 

She looked over at him and saw that his eyes were as wide as she knew hers must be. An understanding of everything they shared passed between them and they both nodded, looking straight at Bill. An air of magical authority clamped around them, a collective breath of held air, then a whoosh of wind whipped through the room and all was calm again. 

“What did you just-” Hermione asked, still feeling the tingling in her fingers.

“Are you bloody serious Bill?” Ron growled. “You didn’t even tell them-”

“There is no time,” Bill snapped. “They’re safe with our Family Legacies you were so worried about. Now are you coming or not?”

Ron turned on his heel. “I’ll be in Mum’s room,” he called over his shoulder. 

Bill started to follow, but Fleur put a hand on his shoulder. “Leave ‘im. ‘E would be useless in such a mood.”

“He’s useless at research anyway,” Harry asserted. Ginny snorted and nodded. Hermione agreed as well, but didn’t say so. She was feeling far too disappointed in his behavior right now. 

And there was research to be done. She hardly had time for Ron’s tantrum. 

When they arrived at the Burrow, Charlie and Percy were already there. A pile of books sat on the table between them, though they were each pouring through one already. Hermione nearly giggled when she realized Charlie was wearing glasses to peruse the tomes. She had never imagined the burly dragon tamer in glasses. It made him even hotter than he normally was. Hermione was shocked at herself for thinking such a thing at a time like this. But then… it wasn’t really her fault that it was true. Plus she had less than three hours of sleep in the past twenty-four… she was allowed some illogical thoughts.

Ginny nudged her side and whispered, “Do I have a single brother who doesn’t make you drool?”

“I’ve never had a thing for Percy.” Hermione whispered before realizing what she’d said. Ginny’s mirth lasted a few seconds before they approached the table. 

“What exactly are these ‘Family Legacies’?” Harry asked before Hermione got the chance. 

“Oh Merlin, I forget sometimes how little you know about the wizarding world,” Percy declared, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

Bill gave him a look and turned to Harry and Hermione. “Every pureblood family, and many half-blood families, have ancient magic that they pass down - secret spells and rituals that are strongly tied to the traits of the family. It is keyed to the direct line of the family and if the line dies out it reverts to the side branches, which is how we have the Prewett’s even though Mum married out. When Fabian and Gideon were killed, their Legacy books came to me as the oldest male of Mum’s line.”

“They skipped her?” Hermione asked, once again furious at the treatment of women in wizarding society.

“Family magic is very old,” Bill began uncomfortably, “and that often translates to some very outdated ideas in the magic. At least in our two families, the line is patriarchal. Harry, you should check your vault sometime. It is possible that your Family Legacy was destroyed the night your parents passed, but it is more likely it was stored in the vault or reappeared there once you were no longer present.”

Hermione was turning over the possibilities of magic like that - secret magic so strongly tied to a family that the Legacy would reappear in their family vault if no family member was there to protect it. She had to shake her head and refocus herself before she could follow too far down that track of thinking. “Bill, that’s all well and good, fascinating really, but how does this help the twins? Unless the Wealseys or the Prewetts specialized in healing the impossible, I don’t see what it could do.” ”

Bill ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I don’t know, but… Weasley family magic centers around loyalty, protection, brotherhood,” Ginny cleared her throat and Bill gave her a half smile, “sibling hood. As it stands, the twins’ magic is too weak to pull them back. It is my hope that we can all share our magic and it will be enough to give them the magical boost they need. 

“You can share magic?!?” Hermione gasped. “That’s amazing! How? Can you-”

“Well it’s more than just magic. Weasley men have been known to… share… to an unusual degree for family togetherness.” For some reason, his cheeks were a little red. Hermione was curious. She had never seen Bill flustered before. 

“What, like properties? Is that why the Wealsey’s always had so many children?” Hermione asked, her curiosity overcoming the social necessity to let it go. 

“Not exactly,” Percy muttered.

“Okay then? Wealth?” Hermione asked, blushing as she recognized that there had never been a lot of wealth in the Weasley home. “Or erm… maybe… I don’t know. Maybe food or other resources. Ideas? Or perhaps-”

“Relationships!” Charlie blurted before wincing and blushing as red as his hair. “Sorry, you were just… I didn’t want you to have to...” He floundered for a moment before looking to Bill to save him.  

“Yes, so...” Bill picked up the explanation, “Weasley brothers have been known to share a wife. It’s been done a few times throughout our history, the most recent in Dad’s generation. We don’t know much about it though.”

“Oh,” Hermione flushed a deep red. How would that even work? Not that she was judging mind, love comes in many forms. It just seemed… like a lot. “Could we talk to them about it? Whoever last…” 

“They were killed during the first war unfortunately - civilian casualties - but I know Dad had to take part in the ritual when they married her because the family magic required all the siblings to participate.”

“But wasn’t he with your mum?” Hermione asked. 

“Not back then, but this didn’t change anything about their relationship when they did get together. It’s.... it’s not that simple. Dad explained it to me once, that the ritual required at least the same number of participants as there were siblings, but it was far stronger if each of the siblings were actually involved. He was the youngest brother, so he could have joined the marriage when he was old enough, but he fell in love with Mum at Hogwarts.” 

“I still don’t understand how this will help you share your magic,” Hermione puzzled.

“It’s… a side effect of our brotherhood. By just existing in our lineage it happens that... sometimes more than one Weasley man will fall for the same woman. Instead of fighting about it and risking a rend in the family, the brothers traditionally agreed to share.”

“That’s a really interesting way of looking at that problem,” Hermione mused. She couldn’t quite imagine how that worked without jealousy. She had never been a good sharer, and the concept of being shared by so many was even more mind boggling. She could understand that for them it was just part of their magic, of who they were. But she couldn’t quite imagine the woman who would go along with such a thing. 

 Refocusing, Hermione pressed on, “But how do you think it could help the twins now?”

“Well, it’s a bit like what George already did, I’m hoping,” Bill started.

“I remember whispers when I was little that my uncles did it out of loyalty to one of the brothers who was mortally wounded, to bind him to them all and to share their life force with him,” Percy eagerly interrupted. He seemed thrilled that he knew this. “Somehow it was the influx of new magic - of the new wife’s line - that sealed it and allowed them each to retain their own magic and recover their personal life force, though they were always very close after that.”

“Why are we looking through the Prewett Family Legacies as well?” Ginny asked. 

“Mum’s side has always had twins, it’s part of their family magic,” Bill said. “Because of the damage and the fact that those two have already thrown a soul deep twin bond into the mix, I think the magic will need the witch to balance the two of them completely. A triad.”

”Oh,” Hermione said, trying not to feel envious of whatever lucky witch got both of the twins. “But… to balance them completely, won’t the ritual have to bind them…”

“Soul deep,” Bill confirmed quietly. 

Hermione was contemplative. “But a soulbound triad wouldn’t be enough by itself to help the twins?”

“I don’t think so, not with their magic so unstable,” he said grimly, but a smile flitted across his face. “Besides, I would rather give them more magic than they need than not enough, right?”

There were nods all around before Hermione questioned, “So what do you know about this Weasley wife-sharing ritual?”

All the brothers, even Bill, blushed to have it called that, but he didn’t back down from explaining. “Well, as I said, we don’t know much. Dad participated, but he was young, and…”

Impatiently, Hermione cut in, “Do you know what he had to do?”

“During the ritual, he offered her protection - apparently each sibling has to offer something the family will provide - but that was all and it was really provided by his older brothers through the years. He said that when they were all attacked, he felt it when it happened and he’s always thought it was because he wasn’t there to protect her as he had offered.”

Harry looked puzzled. “He wasn’t sure?”

“As the youngest, his parents didn’t spend as much time explaining the Legacies to him as they probably spent with the eldest brothers. It wouldn’t have seemed important since they should never have come to him. There was a kiss that was required from each sibling. Dad laughed about it. He was a young teenager at the time and the wife was in her twenties, so it was mostly just awkward.”

“So there’s an offering that sounds basically like muggle vows, a kiss from each sibling, and then just whatever the ritual words are?” Hermione pieced together. “And we need to combine this with some kind of soul binding ritual for forming triads with twins.”

“There might be another bit…” Bill hedged.

“Well, we’ll figure it out when we come to it,” Hermione sighed, tying up her hair and sitting at the table. “I’ll need those books, a quill, and a whole lot of parchment.”

It was hours later before they found the rituals they needed. And even longer before Hermione and Bill together worked out a way to combine them, though they both still felt uncertain and wished for more time. 

Charlie, Percy, Harry, and Ginny had returned to St Mungo’s, despite the hour. It was nearly nightfall of the day after the battle and none of them had really slept yet. 

As Bill argued that it was necessary to have the twins in their spots in the circle and Hermione maintained that having them in the middle would be more appropriate, they were interrupted by a massive patronus. 

“Charlie?” Hermione guessed, then the dragon began speaking and it was obvious she was correct.

“Bill, the twins have taken a turn for the worse but they won’t tell us anything specific without you here. We’re out of time.” He was crying, she could hear it in his voice. 

Without hesitation, they ran to the floo together. When they arrived, they found the rest of the family had been joined by Lee Jordan and Katie Bell. 

Ron came over to Hermione as soon as she stepped into the room. He put his arms around her and said, “I’m sorry I was being a git earlier. I’m so angry that we’ve fought so long and so hard and now all this.”

Hermione hugged him back, “I understand.” She nuzzled into his neck and sighed. Even though things with the twins were dire, she was still happy that there was finally progress between her and Ron. It felt wrong to have even a little bit of happiness, but she was grateful. 

Fleur offered Hermione some food. It was clear she had been trying to take care of everyone. Bill had squeezed her shoulder but otherwise brushed past to speak with the healers. 

He looked very grave when he returned. It took him a few moments to gather himself enough to speak. “We have a couple of hours at most.”

The healers excused themselves to allow the family time to grieve. But Bill had other plans.

 “Hermione and I have the ritual worked out, but we need to get them out of here.” 

“There is no way the healers will let us take them,” Percy responded with a scoff. “They said there might still be a chance for George and hospital protocol dictates that-” 

“We’re going to have to break them out, then,” Bill interrupted. “Charlie, Percy. See what you can come up with.”

“What are we doing?” Ron asked. “I’ll do anything.” 

“I’m glad to hear you say that because we need everyone. Well, and a guy to stand in as a seventh.”

“Why do we need that?” Ginny asked. 

“Because you’re a girl and the ritual involves snogging the girl we marry to the Weasley family.”

“So why can’t I be the seventh?”

“Ginny, you aren’t snogging a girl,” Bill said in frustration. 

“Cute that you think I haven’t before,” she said confidently. “I am the seventh child of a seventh Weasley child. My family magic is stronger than anyone but yours. It would be stupid to leave me out.”

He stared at her, trying to come up with an argument for that. “Fine,” he said after a moment. “Now who would marry the family to save the twins?”

“Angelina,” Ron said. 

Lee nearly choked on a sob. Katie stood up, pinning Ron with a glare. “She can’t because she already died for Fred.”

“Well what about you then?” Ron asked without skipping a beat. He didn’t seem to realize how callous that might sound. 

“You’ve already let George kill himself by tying into Fred,” she started softly, starting to sob. “Now you’re going to kill yourselves and some innocent girl as well? I won’t do that to myself and I’m not sitting around to watch you kill anyone else, either. I am done with Weasleys!” She was crying hard enough that Lee almost followed her as she hurried off down the hall.

Into the silence, Ron suggested, “Alicia Spinnet?”

“Unconscious, mate,” Lee said. He was crying. “I don’t know any birds crazy enough to try it. Angelina would have. She was mad for Fred. But she’s gone.”

They all stared at one another, all the frantic energy of a moment ago draining away. 

“So that’s it?” Ron asked incredulously. “We’re just going to let them die?”

“We can ask around, but… with so little time… I doubt… Without a willing witch, we will have no choice,” Bill said, his voice shaking. 

“No,” Hermione heard herself say. She knew what had to happen. “They’re not going to die. I’m doing it.”

“What!?” Ron’s jaw dropped. “No you bloody well are not! You belong to me and I’m not sharing you with my brothers!”

It was Hermione’s turn to be incredulous. “You would rather watch the twins die? That’s disgusting, Ronald.”

“Of course I don’t want them to die. But I don’t want all my brothers putting their hands on my girlfriend either.”

“As I have said before, multiple times today in fact, you have never asked me to be your girlfriend.” Hermione’s lips thinned to a grim line. “And I certainly don’t ‘belong’ to anyone.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Ron groaned.

“But none of that matters right now,” Hermione said, earnestly pushing through his protests.

“How could it bloody well not matter-”

“I’ve always wanted to be with you, Ron,” Hermione said softly. “You know that. And with the way the magic works, we still can be and save the twins in the process. How could you not want to take the chance?”

“Hermione,” Ron groaned. He lowered his voice, pushing an errant curl out of her face. “I’ve shared with my family my whole life. Is it that selfish of me to want the girl I’ve fancied since fourth year to myself?”

“We can still be together Ron,” Hermione pleaded. “I’ll be very tied to Fred and George, but that doesn’t have to stop our relationship if you still want one. Please, Ron… I... I don’t want anyone else to die.”

“That’s not...” Hermione could already see the fight in him dying when Charlie interrupted. 

“Can we argue about this later?” Charlie asked, his voice strained.

Ron shot him a look that would kill but then ignored him to pull Hermione close. “I’m sorry, love. You’re right. I will do whatever we need to do to help the twins, even… even if I have to share the most amazing woman I’ve ever known.”

Hermione smiled up at him, for a moment forgetting how dire the situation was before stepping away from him. “We don’t have unlimited time. Do we have a plan to steal them away?”

“With some of your polyjuice potion stash and Harry’s invisibility cloak, we’ve got it all worked out,” Ginny said.

Chapter 2

Notes:

This is the second half of what was originally posted as a teaser chapter. Ritual magic, here we come!

For those who are returning readers and were hoping for new content, I have the next chapter ready except for a final edit. I will get it up tonight or tomorrow, so I solemnly swear it will be a short wait.

Lady Winterlight and Omnenomnom are the most amazing alphabets in the world.

 

Rowling still owns Harry Potter, not me. I make no profit from writing these fun stories.

The plan went off without a hitch, though Hermione felt sorry for Harry and Lee when the polyjuice wore off. They were staying at St. Mungo’s, impersonating the twins for now. The Weasleys had surrounded their two brothers, pushed close together and wrapped in the cloak, and used mobilicorpus to bring them along to the floos. 

There was a moment of panic getting them in the floo, as the cloak fell off, but no one noticed among all the other redheads. 

“Charlie, you’re in charge of keeping the twins alive,” Bill stated as soon as they were back at the Burrow. 

His brother paled, but nodded. 

“Where are you going to be?” Percy asked, startled.

“I’m taking Hermione and we’re going to prepare the stones. Percy, you’re in charge of getting everyone cleansed and ready.”

“Won’t Hermione need to be as well?” Percy asked.

Bill blushed, and his eyes met Fleur’s. She nodded. “Fleur and I will take care of her preparations,” he said, his tone flat.

“Preparations for… oh.”

Hermione felt her cheeks heat as she remembered, in detail, what this was going to entail. While she was marrying the entire family, it was only necessary for her to consummate the union with one brother tonight. 

When she had been helping Bill combine the rituals it had all been so nebulous. It was something that some faceless witch was supposed to do, not her.

But now... now it was her . It didn’t matter that she had always hoped her first time would be with Ron. She was going to lose her virginity to his eldest brother because a ritual said so. Well, it didn’t require virginity , but that’s what she was and it would likely make the magic stronger anyway. She hadn’t quite mentioned that to him. She wasn’t hiding it, but there hadn’t been much time since the decision was made that it would be her.

Hermione suddenly felt quite nervous. She bit her lip as she tried to decide when it would be right to tell him. It couldn’t be now, one misstep in the lines and the whole ritual could fall apart.

Bill was clearly nervous as well. Under other circumstances, Hermione would have been amused to see the ever cool and collected Curse Breaker so flustered. As they drew the ward lines around the ritual space in between the Stones, she had to correct him twice. 

Finally, it was done. The lines were drawn, the offerings set up, and the space prepared for Fred and George to lay in the center.

Stepping out of the circle, Hermione moved to a bower Bill pointed her to. From the middle of the grove of trees, Fleur beckoned to her, putting a finger to her lips to indicate the need for silence. The necessary ritual bath was already prepared. Hermione felt odd having Fleur there considering that Hermione was about to sleep with her husband, but the older woman moved with grace and care, nothing but nurturing to her.

Fleur silently helped her into the sunken tub and began a rhythmic humming as she anointed Hermione with oils and herbs all along her body. After months on the run, it felt blissful to be so cleansed. She felt a peace, at last, that had not been present in her life for longer than she could remember. She wasn’t sure how much of it was Fleur’s ministrations, the gathering magic, or simply the relaxing environment, but she felt a cloud of serenity softly blanketing her mind.

Finishing up, Hermione slid out of the tub and Fleur helped her into the thin white robes, the traditional clothing of the wife-to-be. Hermione felt very exposed with nothing on beneath and knowing that all seven of the Weasleys would be able to see that. According to the rites, all of the men would have a right to her body whenever they wanted it, Ginny too since she was participating. But she knew that none of them would ever take advantage of her. The family held nothing but respect for her and happily welcomed her into the fold without a second thought. She was safe with them.

She was grateful for the nature of the Weasley family and how deeply she could trust them. That was doubly true as the time came to begin. Fleur walked her out to the stones. Just as Hermione was about to step into the circle, Fleur pulled her back. She stared into Hermione’s eyes for a moment before pressing her lips just barely to Hermione’s. “Tout ira bien, ma soeur du coeur,” she said quietly then stepped back.

Hermione stepped into the circle. Bill stood directly across from her in nearly the same robe. His had golden embroidery, indicating his status as patriarch as opposed to her silver. 

Bill cleared his throat. “Traditionally, the head of the family would take the bride in front of the others. But I thought… the ritual doesn’t require it to be that way. We just need to have sex here in the circle, and I thought it would be better to do before the others arrive.”

Hermione nodded. “Bill… I need to tell you…”

“I’m so sorry this is part of it, Hermione. I would never…”

“It’s okay. I know this is…” she was surprised to find tears in her eyes and a catch in her throat, “I know you don’t want to do this.”

Seeing her face, Bill was suddenly next to her, his arms coming around her, tucking her head under his chin. “Hush now, little love, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re a beautiful girl and the twins have no idea how lucky they are.”

Hermione took a step back. She glanced to Fleur, but the other woman had disappeared, probably back to the bower. Hermione’s emotions were all over the place. She wondered if the power of the Stones was to blame. “Thank you,” Hermione said with a deep breath. “We need to invoke the Stones and get this started.”

Bill hesitated for a moment then nodded and raised his wand. They began chanting together, calling the spirits around them and the Weasley ancestors to observe and offer their blessings. 

Finally, they came together in the center, all focus now on one another. Bill’s long arms surrounded her again, this time pulling Hermione in for a kiss. She had thought she would tell him she was a virgin before now. Or at least before the kissing started. 

But now she felt that it was unnecessary. The magic of the Stones was thrumming in her blood. They were beyond words. Bill’s kiss changed from somewhat brotherly to passionate, his tongue demanding entry to her mouth and she giving it to him. The robes they were wearing dropped to the ground within moments.

His hands roved over her skin. If she had been less taken in by the magic, Hermione would have been worried about what months of starvation had done to her and how he must feel about her scrawny body. Somehow, Bill still managed to caress all the right curves.

Still kissing her, his hand moved into the space between her thighs, first running his fingers through the curls there, then sliding his hand lower, where the moisture had gathered and she was slick and ready. Hermione whimpered and put her own hands on the hard rod that had been pressing into her belly. She wasn’t sure where this boldness had come from, but the magic around her nudged her forward, guiding her instincts.

Bill sucked in a harsh breath as she began to pump him.. He stopped kissing and dropped his head back, staring up at the stars for a moment before scooping her up in his arms and laying her on the ritual stone they had prepared as an altar to put the twins on. Climbing atop it and her, he expertly lined himself up, his lips again moving on hers.

Hermione had only a moment of trepidation before he slammed into her body and she screamed as he roughly tore her. Everything stopped as she wept. She could feel his length throbbing inside her and the rest of his body trembling from the exertion of maintaining control. Bill’s voice was tight and concerned, “Hermione, for the love of Merlin, why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?” 

“I… I meant to. I tried to a couple of times. But there were so many other things that were more important. And...and then the magic didn’t think I should tell you,” Hermione scoffed at herself, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It does, little love. Do you have any idea what a gift you’ve given us?”

She scrunched up her nose at him. “I guess not?”

“You, my dear… have saved us all and made the magic that much stronger,” Bill panted.

“I’m glad,” Hermione told him. “It was worth it... Or at least I hope it will be. It’s hard to tell when you won’t move .”

Bill chuckled and pulled out very slowly. “Does this still hurt? Are you okay?”

“Much better,” she assured him, then moaned as he started moving more vigorously. “More! Go faster… please!

Bill did. And as his pace sped up, he slid a hand between them, his fingers pressing the little nub at the top of her slit, pushing Hermione to moan and cry out. When his movements became erratic, when he was close enough that there would be no stopping, he tipped her over that edge, then followed her down.

For several long moments after, she felt Bill’s full weight pressing her into the stone. Then he rose on all fours, allowing Hermione a look at his slim, fit body before he pushed himself off the altar. 

She wasn’t sure why, but she began shaking, tears overwhelming her and sliding down her cheeks. Bill was putting his robe back on with his back to her, leaving her laying there trying not to sob. She could see Fleur standing outside the circle looking at him with love. Hermione got the impression that they were communicating without words and probably without him remembering she was even still there. How could she have given her first time to someone who was married and completely in love with his wife? Someone who saw her as nothing more than a little sister?

Unexpectedly, a calloused thumb brushed her cheek, wiping away a tear. Charlie’s blue eyes stared into hers. “Hey, little Draga. Let me clean you. Please.”

Hermione was staring at him wide-eyed. She had no idea what he meant by that, but she felt safer just having him near. She knew this must be an effect of the magic, she was laying there naked in front of someone she barely knew for Merlin’s sake, but it felt so good to let him touch her even just on the shoulder where his hand still lay. She hesitantly agreed and he gave her a lop-sided smile for the briefest of moments.

Then he brought a cloth and a bowl of water near. She could smell the herbs and oils Fleur had used earlier in this water as well. Charlie carefully wiped her body down, from her brow to her feet, though he left the part in the middle until the end. Despite the cool night’s air, Hermione felt warmth and a feeling of contentment.

She was incredibly calm when Charlie suggested she spread her legs. “May I touch you here?” he asked softly. “To cleanse you?”

“Yes, I would appreciate it, my… Charlie… Sorry.” The words just slipped out of her mouth. 

Hermione saw Charlie shudder and his eyes grew darker. “You can call me yours if that’s what you want. It’s true.” His voice was quiet.

He leaned down, cloth in hand, but sucked in a rough breath when he saw her, saw the blood. “You were… shite.”

She propped herself on her elbows for a moment, looking down her body into his shocked eyes. Somehow despite the intimacy of the moment, she wasn’t bothered by how very naked she was before him. “Would it be better to leave it? For the ritual?” she asked, looking into his eyes.

“Not if we’re covering you up. And we are. Plus the blood… it… adds strength to the magic...” He took another shaky breath and looked away from her. Hermione lowered herself back to lay on the stone while he began his task.

The cloth was soothing. His giant hands were far gentler than she would have imagined. The lingering pain in her center eased away under his care. At long last, he was done and stepped back.

Percy was beside her in a moment. To her surprise, he slid his arms under her body and lifted her bridal style. He gave her a tight smile. “I’m not as strong as the others, but I manage.”

Setting her gently on her feet, he helped her back into her robe. She realized now that all of them were there wearing the white ceremonial robes, though none were quite as thin as hers. Behind her, she saw Bill and Charlie arranging the twins on the altar. Taking the bowl Charlie had used to cleanse her, they wrung out the cloth and cleaned the twins. Then both turned and wiped the others’ brow. Charlie went to Percy next and did the same. When Bill approached Ron, he dodged around it.

“No way,” Ron growled, pushing away the bowl. “That’s gross. Just… no.”

Instead, he stepped up to Hermione, looking angry, but his hands were gentle as he buttoned the robe around her. She started to speak, but he shushed her. This wasn’t the time or the place for the words they would have, so Hermione let it go.

Bill approached Ginny next, brushing the cloth gently over her forehead. Ginny shivered at the contact, then turned and approached her friend. She held a bowl of wine. Her words were ceremonial, though the wink she gave Hermione was not. “We, the Weasleys, share the blood of our ancestors. We share our life.” She tipped the bowl to let Hermione drink.

“I accept this lifeblood of the Weasley family, as I am one for the whole. I share my life with the Weasleys.” She took the bowl of wine and shared it along the line - Ron, Percy, Charlie, Bill. Then she realized that on the altar, George had stirred. His eyes were staring, confused, but then a dawning realization. 

“Are we… is this a ritual?” he asked, voice shaking with exhaustion. 

“Yes,” Percy said, “Now do your part!”

“Oh, ah… right… What exactly is-”

“Just listen. Let the magic guide you,” Bill said encouragingly. 

“Erm...okay.” George beckoned Hermione to his side, where he, too, drank and said the words. She changed her words at the end. “I share my life with you.”

She nodded toward Fred and George helped her lift his head. She said her part and George said his twin’s, together they tipped the bowl to Fred’s dry lips. “I share my life with you,” Hermione said, and Fred’s eyes opened for the first time since the battle. There was a collective gasp around the circle. George sobbed in relief, the magic around them flaring instantly as he truly understood the impact of the ritual.

Fred looked immediately to George, past obvious pain and confusion, and drank when his twin nodded to the bowl. Hermione suspected there had been a fast exchange between them through their bond. Fred didn’t have the energy to sit up, so George lay back down with him. But he remained awake. 

Hermione took a hand of each of them, while their other hands clasped back together. She felt faint, like she might slide to the ground at any moment. Familiar arms slid around her waist and she realized Ron was holding her up. This wasn’t the way they had agreed to do the triad bonding, but the magic pulsing around them was guiding her, and Hermione felt that this was what they needed. She was just grateful she had help to make it happen.

Bill, following the magic as well, stepped up beside them, a ceremonial knife in his hand. He carefully made a small slit in each of their hands, letting blood drip from each of them. They had agreed that the only words would be hers, since they had no idea if the twins would be conscious.

Despite the feeling of being steadily drained, Hermione’s voice was clear and powerful. “The blood falls loose and lonely, the souls unbound. We offer our love through memory.”

This was the part Hermione was most nervous about. She didn’t have a strong, loving memory with the twins. This was why they needed Angelina or Katie or someone who had a specific bond with them. She summoned a memory of the three of them together in the DA, hoping it would be enough, and offered it up to the stones.

Within seconds she knew it wasn’t right. The stones were shaking just slightly. She felt the magic of Ginny and her brothers steadying her, but Hermione didn’t know how to fix this. But all she could do was go on or the energy snapping around them would hurt the twins more than help.

“Two are one,” she whispered, voice shaking. 

“What’s going on?” she heard Ginny whisper faintly.

“I… I don’t know.” Bill responded. “It’s not working. Something’s not right.”

The twins’ hands found one another without question at a nod from Bill. 

“And now three join together…” Hermione felt the wind pick up and heard a rumbling sound in her ears. Fred was paling in front of her, his body shaking in pain. George’s eyes were wide and frantic as he grasped at his twin. 

“It’s not strong enough! The memory...”

“Do something!” George whimpered. “He’s going to die! He can’t die!”

Then a strong voice came from just behind her, a tendril of memory slipping past her like a breeze. His arms squeezed around her as he spoke. “Three join together with an offer of love that has been,” his voice faltered only slightly, “sacrificed to bring the love that will be.” Ron’s memory of their kiss replayed suddenly in her mind and the winds quieted around them. 

Hermione was filled with awe, pausing to see the magic twinkling around them as the memory faded. The way forward was clear in a way it hadn’t been before. Now, instead of determination surrounding her being, she felt a brush of love, deep and genuine. 

“Three join together as one,” she said, voice ringing strong again.

Hermione held out her palms and each twin matched one of her hands with their own, the blood mingling together. The feeling of being drained came to a stop. She knew she hadn’t stopped bleeding, but the hole that had existed when she opened herself to them but hadn’t yet been joined was now closed. She felt complete in a way she never had before.

A soft glow surrounded the three of them, pulsing strongest around Fred. He gasped as the bruises on his body began to lighten and the places where his skin had broken were mending together. 

“Three become one in perfect harmony,” Hermione’s voice was trembling with awe and something more, a deeper awareness coming into being between the three of them.

“Three become one,” George echoed.

“One together,” Fred added, though his voice was rough. 

Ron let her go and backed away, retaking his spot in the circle. Bill, too, retreated. Hermione leaned forward, touching her forehead to each of theirs, again just letting the magic guide. She felt overwhelmed by the intensity of the bond she felt to them both.

Someone cleared their throat and Hermione remembered that the ceremony wasn’t done. She squeezed hands with each of the twins and stood away from them. 

Bill stepped forward now, to the center of the circle. “Hermione Granger, do you take myself, William Weasley, and each of my siblings - Charles, Percival, Frederick, George, Ronald, and Ginerva - as your wedded partners for the rest of your days?”

“I do,” she replied, her voice barely shaking. “Do you, William Weasley, accept me, Hermione Granger, as the wedded partner of the Weasley family?

“I do, Hermione. And I offer to you Duty in return,” He said those words as he took her in his arms and pressed a kiss to her lips, barely more than chaste.

She stepped away from him and moved to Charlie. It was unnecessary for the others to accept her, but each would offer her something. Charlie’s eyes held hers as he spoke, his voice almost a whisper, “I offer you Devotion and Protection,” he said. 

Beside them, Hermione heard Bill mutter, “show off,” but then her mind was swept away when Charlie kissed her. It was gentle, but intense, a reflection of the man himself. He started slow, his tongue tentatively probing until she let him in, then practically devouring her in a way that made her match him stroke for stroke. 

It wasn’t until he let out a low moan that Charlie broke away from her. He brought his forehead to hers. Hermione was surprised to realize that they were both panting. He didn’t look her in the eyes now. He almost thrust her toward Percy. 

Instead of the straight-laced man she had been expecting, Percy grinned recklessly and stated, “I offer you Passion.”

He dipped her almost to the ground before meeting her lips with his. This kiss was aggressive in ways Hermione never would have imagined. She knew her eyes were open wide, but she was simply shocked that this was coming from Percy . He winked when he let her back up and laughed at her expression. 

She looked to Bill then. They had planned to go around the circle and come to the twins last, but since they were awake…

Bill nodded toward Fred and George. She approached Fred first. He stared at her solemnly before saying, “I offer you Humor.” His head darted forward and he kissed her on the nose. Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t think that’s…”

Fred dove at her and took advantage of her mouth being open to dance his tongue inside. He was laughing when he pulled away. Everyone else was close to tears at the sight of Fred alive and being himself. Before Hermione could decide how to react to Fred, George took both her hands and pulled her close. 

“I offer undying Gratitude, and anything you ever want, I will do my best to make happen.” His words were soft, but carried through the circle. Fred, beside them, looked puzzled, but didn’t speak. 

George’s kiss was sweet and thorough. He did an excellent job of taking her breath away, but didn’t take it too far. When his lips left hers, he still hugged her tight for a few moments. “I can never thank you enough.”

She shook her head at him. What else could she have done? The twins were her family. Her heart swelled at the new way this was true. She wasn’t sure how much she had thought of them that way in the past, but her emotions were certainly intense toward them now.

Finally, she moved on to Ron. This was what she had been dreading. He had just sacrificed his one memory of the two of them culminating their years-long crush to save his family. He had been the only man she thought she would end up with. Now, it was all gone, given to the stones to pay for the twins’ lives.

There were tears streaming down his cheeks. Ron pulled her into a rough hug - the kind they had shared hundreds of times before. He kissed her neck lightly and laughed through his tears. “You did it - you saved them!” 

“ We saved them. I couldn’t have done it without you,” she told him.

After another tight squeeze, he stepped back and put his hands on her shoulders, “I offer you Friendship and Loyalty.” 

His kiss was nothing like the one they had shared in the Room of Requirement, what little she remembered of it. Now, there was no passion, but she sensed awe and brotherly affection. Hermione expected she might feel let down by this, but she was not. Instead, relief and affection for this boy who had been her friend so long swept through her. She wondered how much of this was the magic helping them both accept what was happening, but ultimately it didn’t matter. She was just grateful.

Now Ginny was the only sibling left. Hermione was nervous about this. Ginny may have had the experience before, but she had never kissed a girl, Fleur’s brief press aside. She wasn’t sure if she was more excited or worried about what this might feel like. Plus, Ginny was her best female friend. What if this made things weird?

She really should have known better. Ginny grabbed her by the hand and twirled her around in a little happy dance they had done together before. Hermione instantly felt herself relaxing as her friend declared, “I offer you Fun.” 

She spun Hermione into a full liplock before the older girl had time to think about it any further. This kiss was softer but more demanding than any of the boys except Percy. And it went on considerably longer than his had. The boys were too busy letting their jaws hang open to stop them. When they finally parted, Ginny grinned and said, “Well that was a proper snog. We should practice some more sometime.”

Hermione felt herself blushing as she stepped back to the center of the circle. “I accept these offers from the House of Weasley. To you all, I offer my Intellect, Compassion, and Creativity as well as my Body in the bounds of this partnership. May we always be one family, together and apart.”

“One family, the Weasley family,” they all said together. 

The intense feel of magic in the air around them seemed to explode, sending shivers through them all. The circle tightened, forcing them forward, until the entire family was together in the center, each person touching every other in some small way. 

Hermione felt the magic burst over them, a shower of sparks not unlike the twins’ fireworks rained around them as they all laughed and cried together. 

Fred raised his voice to be heard, “Well this has been fun. Anyone want to explain why we just enacted ancient magic to marry a witch to the whole family?”

“Watch it,” Ginny said. “That’s our wife you’re talking about.”

“You watch it,” George responded. “You aren’t supposed to date anyone until you’re twenty five. Let alone marry someone.”

“Now calm down,” Bill started.

“And you’re already married.” Fred added, watching Fleur warily from the sidelines. “I swear I had nothing to do with this. Throw fireballs that way.”

“Eet eez completely your fault as eet were. I feel sorry for the poor girl.”

“Hey!” Ginny shouted. “We aren’t that bad!”

“Hermione is the one getting the raw end of the deal,” Fred said. “Even if we are pretty good-looking.”

Despite his jovial attitude, Hermione could sense Fred’s confusion and… was that fear? She started to say something, but Bill had stepped up.

“Fleur’s right. You nearly died during the battle, Fred. That you made it down to Madam Pomfrey was a miracle,” he began. “So we soul-bonded you three-”

“What?!?” Fred shouted.

Percy spoke next, “We didn’t know what to do. Pomfrey couldn’t help, but said that St. Mungo’s probably could. So George made her use the twin bond to hold you here, shared his life force to keep you from slipping beyond.”

Fred looked to his twin, eyes brimming with tears. “You idiot - we both could have died!”

“You would have,” Ron said, “without Mione.” His tone was proud and loving. Hermione couldn’t begin to say how much it meant to her that he was so supportive. Still, she blushed to be thrust into the spotlight.

Charlie spoke softly. “She and Bill figured out the ritual using both Weasley and Prewett magic - we thought she needed a triad bond with the two of you to ensure it worked.”

“But why Hermione?” Fred asked, puzzled. “No offense meant, love, but I would have expected Angelina or Alicia or Katie first.”

George groaned next to him, the memory clearly hitting him hard. Percy sank to his knees. “Fred, I’m so sorry. I tried…”

Hermione could feel his dread as he looked to George. “She’s gone,” George whispered. It clearly wasn’t necessary for him to say exactly which one.

Fred stared. He didn’t speak, but his emotions were turbulent. Finally, he said, “It was to save me, wasn’t it?”

George nodded slowly. Fred looked stricken. He held back a sob, but just barely. “Katie and Alicia?” he asked.

Hermione spoke up this time. “Alicia is in the hospital. Katie was with us for a bit, but… she was furious that George had tied himself to you. She thought you were both going to die no matter what and that tying more people to you would just kill everyone.”

“It could have,” he stated, his anger flickering just below the surface.”Sounds like Kate’s the only sensible one of the lot of you.” He paused for a moment before sighing. He pulled Hermione and George in for a close hug. “But thank you. All of you.”

George burrowed into Hermione’s neck. She could feel him shaking. He just muttered “thank you” over and over. 

When the twins let go of her, Hermione put her hands on her hips and said, “well, what happens now?”

“Food!” Ron shouted.

Bill clapped him on the shoulder. “I think you’re forgetting something. We left Lee and Harry in a position I’m sure they would like out of by now.”

Fred raised an eyebrow and then his brothers were tripping over themselves to tell the twins the story of how they broke them out of St. Mungo’s. As they approached the Burrow, the story was winding down. Hermione said, “We should let the healers check over everyone, too.”

“Everyone?” Ron asked, incredulous.

“We just worked some very serious magic without guidance beyond some old books. The twins were nearly dead when we did it. Yes, I think having everyone looked at would be a good idea.”

Though there was grumbling, Bill agreed with her, so that was ultimately what they did.

Chapter 3

Notes:

We've made it to the new stuff! I'm so excited to see what people think as we make our way forward.

Bill entered St. Mungo’s first with the rest of the family close behind. Chaos erupted around them from the first moment they were seen. The furious healers rushed toward them. A crowd that had to be reporters descended from the open side of the lobby. Kingsley Shacklebolt and a full detail of Aurors came in from the other side.

“William Weasley,” Shacklebolt called out, his angry voice ringing clearly across the lobby, “Did you knowingly remove two terminally ill patients from this hospital to their detriment and deaths against the recommendation of their Healers?” He was angry, but there was sadness in his eyes as well.

“I did remove my twin brothers, Fred and George Weasley, after their Healers declared there was nothing left to do for them - except a very slim chance for George. However, it was neither to their detriment nor their deaths.” Bill spoke confidently, utterly calm in the face of the crowd.

Fred stepped forward, the first glimpse of him anyone had seen. There were gasps all around. George could feel his twin’s trepidation through their bond, but he showed none of it. “As you can see -”

“We’re quite alive -” George said, joining his twin at the front.

“And lively.”

“Perhaps too much so!” George added, playing the crowd.

“How is this possible?” a voice cried out from the reporters, though from the mumble among the Healers, the question was important to them as well.

George felt a wave of tension and… shame? from the bond with Hermione. He wished he could go to her, but feared that showing her affection in front of the press and basically the entire Wizarding World would upset her more. Instead, he focused on comfort and support, pushing those toward her. All he could do was hope that she felt it through the bond. They hadn’t had time to discuss what she could feel or how she was adapting.

Fred walked closer to the reporters, pulled a bouquet of flowers from his ear and bowed to them. “This amazing feat was accomplished through… magic.” He wiggled his fingers and eyebrows to emphasize the absurdity of their question. Several of the reporters groaned at his antics.

Bill rolled his eyes and stepped forward. His voice was far firmer than George had ever heard before. “On behalf of all my siblings and our allies, I would like to apologize for our deception and the disregard we showed to the healers in charge of our brothers, Fred and George. The healers here at St. Mungos are among the best in the world and we appreciate the work they did attempting to save the twins’ lives. However, when it came to a point that they were unable to help further but we knew there was a magic we could work to keep them alive, we were forced to go against the healers’ orders. As you can all see, they are alive and healthy, recovered from the ordeal of the Battle of Hogwarts.”

“Yes, but what magic did you use?” another reporter demanded.

“I’ve never heard of any magic of the sort!”

“It sounds suspicious if you ask me!”

“If you could save their lives, why let so many die during the battle?”

Kingsley moved in front of Bill. “The Weasley family requests and deserves privacy at this time. Each and every one of them is a hero of the war we just fought and they’ve been through another ordeal since then. They all need food and rest.”

“And to be checked by the fine healers here,” Bill added, “As we need to be sure the magic we performed has not adversely affected any of us.”

The crowd mostly began to disperse as the Weasleys were allowed to move toward the triage area. Suddenly, a voice they all recognized echoed through the hall. 

“Is it true that you used the Dark Arts to accomplish this?” Rita Skeeter asked, practically salivating with excitement at the story this would be. “It’s the only thing that might have that kind of power, after all. I wonder… what would your father say if he were still alive?”

George stopped dead. He felt Fred freeze as well. Dad was… No. There was no way their father was dead. But then he saw the looks on Bill’s face, Charlie’s, all the siblings except he and Fred. The others had all known. 

When? How? During the Battle, obviously, but George needed to know more. They had been filled in on a basic synopsis of the rest of the Battle, but somehow everyone had neglected to mention their Dad dying. What had happened? He felt the same questions echoing through Fred and a profound sadness and sense of support from Hermione. 

Bill’s voice spoke over the crescendo of the crowd. “Absolutely not! We are not a family that uses Dark Magic. Please respect that we need time to seclude ourselves to come to terms with everything that has happened and to mourn.”

“So it was…” Rita began, but was silenced with a quick spell from Kingsley before she could insinuate anything else. The Aurors moved forward and began to usher people out as George’s family submitted to the Healers.

George felt like he was underwater as someone snatched onto both himself and Fred, separating them from the rest of the family. They were rapidly throwing questions at them, but he and Fred were both too deeply in shock about their father to do more than mumble back. George wasn’t even sure if they were saying the right things. 

They were escorted to a room together, but put on separate beds. Even though it was only a few feet, George felt the space between himself and Fred as though it were a deep canyon. He needed to be touching his twin and he knew Fred felt the same, but it was clear they wouldn’t be allowed.

The main Healer seemed ready to murder them both for being alive. Two other healers were in the room, quietly going about the business of actually casting diagnostic spells and jotting things down, but Healer Jacobs was clearly in charge and intending to stay that way.

“...and you will not be leaving this hospital for at least 3 days while we observe and assess your magic and energy levels, without any of your siblings or friends allowed in, may I add…”

“Healer Jacobs,” a tentative younger Healer spoke from the door, having clearly heard the tirade from the hallway.

“What is it Andrew?” she asked harshly, eyebrows raised with her irritation at being interrupted.

“My patient, Mrs. Hermione Granger Weasley, needs to be in this room, I’m afraid.”

“As you can see, the room is quite occupied already,” she began.

“Yes, ma’am. She needs to be in the same room with Fred and George Weasley, you see.”

“That is absolutely out of the…” Healer Jacobs was almost shouting.

“Actually, I agree with Healer Duncan’s assessment,” the Healer working on Fred spoke up, giving a nod to the shaking young man in the doorway. 

“What?” Healer Jacobs rounded on her inferior.

The younger woman stood her ground, seemingly accustomed to Healer Jacobs’ attitude. “The twins and someone just outside the door have a brand new triad bond. They need to be together. There’s some further bond as well - also centered on the person outside the door - plus the twin bond, but the triad needs are strongest.”

Healer Jacobs was silent for several long minutes before finally turning to the man at the door. “Healer Duncan, your patient may enter in a few moments when we have finished our exam.” She then shoved him out and slammed the door.

George wondered if they could demand a new Healer Overlord. Exchanging looks with Fred, he knew his twin felt the same way. 

When she next spoke, Healer Jacobs’ tone was somewhat more professional than it had been. “What else can you tell me about their situation, Healer Walker?”

The younger woman, a pretty brunette, did the speaking, “They are both going to be fine, though I highly recommend a Mind Healer for some time. War is hard and they are both in shock over their father’s death and perhaps the aftermath of their near death experience as well. George has no physical indications of harm, the few small injuries sustained from battle are fully healed. His magic and energy levels are low, but this is likely due to the need for their new bondmate. The numerous wounds Fred sustained are gone, but have left some nasty scars. It is, however, miraculous how much of the damage was repaired. All of his organs are fully functional. Bones are fused back together as though they were never broken. His energy and magic levels are lower than George’s but will undoubtedly be better if he can be in physical contact with both his twin and their new bondmate, Miss Granger.”

“Weasley,” Hermione said firmly from the door, her Healer following her into the room. “I’m no longer Granger.”

George felt a sense of peace and ease he hadn’t realized he was missing when he saw her standing there. The look in Fred’s eyes said even more than that. George knew that Fred had nursed a crush on the little witch for a few years when they were in school. He hadn’t realized it might still exist. 

Come to think on it, he was feeling rather attracted himself. Though as he took her in, George felt more concern for than attraction to her body. She was clearly well past the point of exhausted and half-starved. He could only imagine what she and Harry, and to some degree Ron, had been through. 

Healer Jacobs came to stand between Hermione and the twins. “You will stay in your own room until I have called for you, young lady.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Hermione replied, walking around the woman and sitting down next to Fred. She reached a hand over toward him as well and George gratefully took it. He couldn’t believe the surge of energy and well-being he felt when their hands joined.

“I am in charge here and I have had enough of you children thinking you can run things!”

Hermione gave her a withering look. “I did not just fight Voldemort to be pushed around by a Healer with a grudge and an overdeveloped sense of authority.”

All four Healers gasped at Voldemort’s name, taking a giant step back as Hermione continued. “Harry, Ron, and I just spent the better part of a year on the run hunting things to help us take Voldemort down. We spent a day in battle, then the last two days desperately trying to keep these two alive. I will be staying right here with them and the rest of the Weasleys and my brother Harry will be welcome in the room if they wish to come in.”

Healer Jacobs opened her mouth, but Hermione stood and made one last statement. “If you have a problem with it, you can take it up with our new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

George was impressed, especially when she spun around, pulled her wand and swished it around, moving their two small single beds together and morphing into one larger bed without so much as shifting he or Fred from their spots. Without bothering to look at the Healers, she climbed into the bed between the two of them, laying down in the middle and beckoning them to join her.

“Well. This is… This won’t stand!” Healer Jacobs postured as she stormed out of the room. 

“Sorry about her,” Healer Walker said. “Do you need anything else right now?”

“Just sleep, please,” Fred managed, his eyelids already drifting shut as he curled around Hermione. 

“Perhaps some food in a few hours,” George said. His stomach felt empty, but he was too tired and drained to care at the moment. The Healer nodded and left.

Seeing that Hermione was already spooned into his brother, George snuggled down close to her front, but not touching. He felt suddenly nervous. Fred’s eyes were already closed, his breath evened out, so it was just the two of them. 

“Closer,” Hermione said, her hands reaching to pull him flush against her. “I feel cold without the two of you. Healer Duncan said it will get easier after we’ve spent some time together, but it may take a few days of more or less constant contact.”

“Days?” he asked, surprised. The triad bond should work approximately the same way as a marriage bond and he didn’t think that required constant contact. When he said as much, Hermione blushed hard. 

“Well. We could make it happen faster, but…”

George watched her, concerned by her sudden reluctance to talk to him. Through the bond, he felt her embarrassment and wondered what… OH. His eyes widened and he felt himself blush, too. 

“A few days in bed is fine,” he said, working hard to keep the lusty thoughts he was now having out of the bond. From the blush that spread across her cheeks and down her chest, he suspected he hadn’t been very successful. Of course, as close as they were, she might also be noticing his physical reaction. George shifted his hips slightly away from her, knowing his own blush nearly matched his hair.

“I know I’ve known you all for years, but… I want to know you better before we…”

“Don’t worry about it, lovely. I told you I will do everything in my power to give you anything you want. If time is what you need, you’ll have it.” George tucked one of her curls behind her ear as he talked.

“What if they need more sooner than I’m ready?” she asked, her voice uncertain.

“I am confident the others feel the same,” George assured her. “And if they don’t, I’ll put the full power of WWW into convincing them to get over it.”

Hermione smiled and laughed a little. “Thank you,” she said. She was quiet for a moment before asking, “How are you feeling?”

George didn’t want to answer that. Thinking about himself, about his feelings, was dangerous ground right now. He and Fred - they were supposed to be the happy ones, no matter what. They were supposed to keep everyone else laughing and not give in to dark thoughts. George had never had to admit to anyone before that he struggled with it. 

Despite his best efforts, George’s body began to shake with the force of his emotions and the tears trying to burst out. Hermione’s hand moved to comb through his short, red hair while she held him close. “It’s okay to let go, George. You don’t have to hold this in or hide how you feel, especially from Fred and I.”

He gave a watery laugh. “I can’t hide it from either of you, can I? Thank Merlin Freddie was too drained to notice.”

“You know he’s feeling just as sad about your Dad passing.”

“I do,” George agreed. “I just… Hermione, I thought I had lost Fred forever. Losing Dad is awful, but… I’m so relieved it wasn’t Fred who died.” He sobbed as quietly as he could manage. “What kind of son does that make me?”

“The kind with a magical soulbond to his twin. Arthur was a wonderful father, a wonderful man. But it isn’t the same as losing your other half. No one can blame you for feeling that way,” she soothed. She continued to murmur words of understanding into his ear as he cried, both of them falling asleep with their arms holding tight.

*****************************

Charlie didn’t let the Healers do much more than a diagnostic check. His magic was drained. He needed food and rest. He hadn’t needed a Healer to tell him any of that. They wanted him to stay and take potions, but he wasn’t having it. What Charlie really needed was to know where they had carted Hermione off to. And the rest of his family. So he left.

Bill was easy to spot. Shacklebolt had him pulled to one side, both of them looking serious and angry. Charlie started toward them to back up his brother, but stopped when he saw several more Aurors guarding Harry and Lee, whose hands were magically cuffed behind their backs. Angry, he headed over to them. 

“What’s going on?” Charlie demanded.

“Nothing is happening here, sir,” one of the Aurors spoke up. Under other circumstances, Charlie would have felt sorry for him. The man looked dead on his feet.

“Why do you have Harry Potter - who killed Voldemort and saved the entire Wizarding World not two days ago - in handcuffs? And our friend, Lee. What have they done?”

The Auror paled, “They were part of a kidnapping conspiracy. They killed two young men.”

“They didn’t, actually,” Charlie informed them. “Were you not out in the lobby with the rest? The twins, my brothers, are alive and well. They are being checked by Healers as we speak.” He saw Harry’s mouth move but no sound was coming out. They apparently had a silencing spell on the boys, too. Still, from the relief on the younger man’s face, Charlie knew that Harry and Lee were both happy to have the news.

At that moment, Shacklebolt stormed over. “You can let them go,” he told the other Aurors, but as soon as the cuffs were off, he pulled both Harry and Lee toward him with a gust of magic.”Understand this, boys. Heroes or not, you could be sent to Azkaban for what you did today, especially if anything had gone wrong with the magic. Don’t make me step in like this again - especially you, Harry Potter. We have better things for you to be doing.”

“I don’t think there are better things to be done than ensuring my family lives,” Harry stated, eyes boring straight into Shacklebolt’s. If the man had thought his little speech was going to cow the Boy-Who-Lived, he was very wrong.

Shacklebolt slid his hand down his face and sighed. “Just go home, Harry. Or to see your friends. Wherever, just get out of my sight.”

“To see my family, ” Harry emphasized. Charlie noticed that Shacklebolt’s eyes narrowed, but then he nodded with exhaustion on his face.

As the Aurors walked away, Charlie pulled the two younger men into a crushing embrace, his gratitude toward them overwhelming any semblance of control. “It worked,” he said to them, “We can’t thank you enough, either of you.”

“I would have gotten right in the middle of that ritual thing if that’s what was needed for them to wake up,” Lee choked, his emotions clearly as uncontrollable as Charlie’s.

Harry was a little more solemnly in control. His magic flared. “You are my family. It is sworn and I would do whatever is necessary to save my brothers.” Then a grin broke across his face. “Besides, you should have seen how confused the healers were by our diagnostics and then, later, the looks on their faces when the polyjuice wore off.”

Bill walked up then. He had his cloak of family authority wrapped firmly, “Get moving. We need to get as many of us as possible together so I can tell you what we know about everything.” 

Charlie wasted no time getting himself and those two into the room Bill had indicated. They were soon joined by Fleur, Percy, and Ron. He looked around for Hermione, but wasn’t really surprised when she wasn’t there. 

Bill came into the room last and indicated a need for quiet. “This is all of us for the moment. Ginny has to rest in her room for a while. The magic took more out of her than she wanted to admit. Hermione was taken to the twins’ room. Their bond needs them close for a while.”

A wave of emotion he was not ready to deal with hit Charlie hard, so he pushed it down. The twins were alive and that was all that mattered. Well, not all, but he hoped Bill had news on the rest of the things the family needed to know.

“Mum is going to be waking up soon. She will be… excitable. She apparently came to while we were gone and had to be given enough Calming Draught that it knocked her out again. She… she knows about Dad, but that plus thinking the twins were dead… the Healers are afraid she may take longer to recover than they initially expected.”

“Why the bloody hell did they tell her the twins were dead?” Ron jumped up, but Harry pulled him back down. 

“They were just doing their job, Ron. They didn’t think there was any possibility for them,” Bill tried to soothe.

“But we’ll be the ones to pay for it. You know what she’s going to be like, and now she’ll be sick longer, too,” Ron groaned.

There was a collective murmur. They all loved Mum, of course, but she was going to be hard to deal with. Charlie let the tears slide down his cheeks as he thought about Dad and how they were going to handle Mum while she fell apart. It had always been their father who calmed her down. 

Charlie wondered if he was going to be able to go back to the Reserve anytime soon. And if he even wanted to?

Bill was talking again. “They want to keep the twins for several days, though I’m not sure it’s really necessary. It seems more like a punishment for what we did. They’re still very angry with us.”

“Is it safe to leave them here?” Ron asked.

“It should be,” Bill said, but there was hesitation in his voice.

“I don’t trust them,” Harry growled.

Percy pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’ve been talking to Shacklebolt’s people. I think the Ministry is in good hands, but there is still a lot of work to be done rooting out Voldemort’s supporters. I’m not sure we should trust them yet either.”

Harry shook his head. “Even Shacklebolt isn’t thinking in our best interests right now. He just wants to use the great war heroes to his best advantage. This move to save the twins may have ruined that.”

“Een what way?” Fleur asked.

“How is Skeeter going to spin this?” Harry said, his question hanging in the air.

Bill spoke into the worried silence. “I know we didn’t spend a lot of time talking about it, but using our Family Legacies was an unconventional move and might not be seen in the best light.” 

“I would rather have the twins than the public’s approval,” Charlie said quietly. 

They all nodded, though Percy quirked an eyebrow at him. “Have you ever cared about the public’s approval?”

Charlie smiled but just shook his head. He didn’t care about what anyone thought, but he knew some of his siblings did. Plus, with Mum not doing well, they would either need to shelter her completely from the rest of the wizarding world or keep the Weasley family in a positive light. The second seemed like an easier option, though maybe that was just thanks to years and years of finding ways to avoid his mother’s moods.

Percy pushed his glasses up his nose. “I think we should make some kind of statement before she has the chance.”

“We could ask Luna if her Dad would put out a special edition of the Quibbler,” Harry suggested. 

Ron shook his head. “She mentioned after the battle that his printing press had been destroyed.”

“Can we not talk to zee reporters uzzer than thees woman?” Fleur asked. 

Bill gave her a loving smile. “That might be for the best.”

“What do we want to say?” Percy asked, parchment and quill ready. 

There was a puzzled silence. All Charlie really wanted to say was for everyone to fuck off and leave their family alone. That probably wasn’t the kind of statement they were going for, so he stayed silent.

Lee spoke up after a minute. “You want to assure everyone that you didn’t use Dark Arts to save them. I heard that accusation.”

“I think we’ll have to admit it was Family Magic unless we want to cough up a non-existent spell name,” Bill said thoughtfully. 

“Family Legacies are sacred, right? And the magic in them?” Ron asked, “so they’ll have to back off then.”

“It’s not quite that simple,” Bill explained. “Family Magic is sacred, but because of that it is never, ever discussed.”

“To publicly declare that’s what we did is the height of crudeness,” Percy sniffed. “But I see no other way to keep people from assuming the worst.”

“Oui, and your Mum could not bear eet,” Fleur said with concern. Charlie was impressed that she cared so much about Mum considering how horrible she had treated the poor girl. “Knowing what people theenk about the Weasley Magic will be ‘ard enough for her.”

“What about Hermione?” Charlie heard himself say. He hadn’t meant to ask, but his mind went back to her every moment he wasn’t actively directing it elsewhere. 

“What about her?” Percy asked. 

“We’re not going to tell anyone about her, are we? That she’s married to all seven of us? They’ll drag her through the mud and it’s not fair to her,” he said. 

Bill shook his head. “We won’t, Char. Not a word about her, anyone. If it does eventually come out, perhaps we can just tell people about the twins. Triads aren’t so unconventional.”

Merlin, that wasn’t what Charlie wanted to hear. Well, the part about not telling the world she was theirs, yes. But the twins being the only ones she was with publicly… he wanted her to come out here and talk to them about all of this, about what she thought. He needed to talk about being married to her. Not just him, personally. He had questions he needed answers to, but he was hopeful that someone else would ask them. Charlie thought they were generic enough. 

Except the ones he most wanted to know. Do you think you could want me? Can I take care of you? Could you ever love me? Charlie squeezed his eyes shut and tried to forget how badly he wanted to know. He hated how hard it was for him to get questions like that out, and how terrified he was of the answers. He wasn’t supposed to be so afraid of something that he didn’t dare do anything about it.

Charlie’s mind wandered as his brothers continued arguing over what exactly to say. It wasn’t that their discussion wasn’t important. It was. He was just so tired. And his skin was itching for Hermione’s touch. Were the others feeling this way, too? 

“What do you think, Charlie?”

He shook himself and blinked at Bill. Had he actually fallen asleep? “I’m sorry, what?” His words were slurred.

His brother took a long look at him and said, “Fleur, could you take Charlie back to the Burrow? I don’t think the nutrition potions they gave us were enough.”

Charlie tried to protest, but he could barely pull himself out of the seat and stumble after his sister-in-law. Talking was utterly beyond him.

**********************

 

“‘E was asleep before ‘e was all zee way on zee bed,” Fleur reported, her head leaning on Bill’s shoulder as she sat back down beside him. They were almost the only ones left in the room. Everyone had dispersed after the meeting except Percy, who was busy writing letters to friends and distant family so they could owl them ahead of the newspaper article.

Bill thought about what Fleur had said. He was worried about Charlie. Of all of them, he was the most hearty, but he had looked almost white with exhaustion and Bill had been able to tell that he was having a hard time following the conversation at times. Charlie only spoke up if he had something to say, but he always took everything in.

“You should have stayed and gone to bed yourself, love,” he replied to his wife.

“Non, mon amour. I will sleep when you do.” 

He could tell she was going to hold her own exhaustion over him until he submitted to sleeping. It was underhanded, but he had to admit it would be effective. He arched an eyebrow at her and sighed, “Let me get this interview arranged and done, then we will go home and sleep.” 

Fleur smiled at him and the world glowed for a moment as it always did when she looked at him like that. Bill wasn’t sure how this was going to work - being married to her and to Hermione - but he knew he would never give up his wife. His first wife, he amended.

Bill was still struggling with his part of the ritual. He had intended it to be nothing more than dutiful, but he had been telling her the truth when he reassured Hermione that the twins were lucky. The ritual itself had only made her more attractive to him. Still, he was the lucky one and he knew it. His tie to her was strong and, while he was more interested than he would have preferred to be, he wasn’t experiencing the draining side effects he suspected the others were. 

Of course he had never been near a ritual like they had just done, so it was hard to be sure, but he thought that his brothers were probably needing to be near her. The twins were clearly the priority, but he had a feeling that at least Charlie also needed some time with her. Percy and Ron weren’t acting all that effected, but perhaps it was also part of why Ginny was so drained? He suspected the boys would struggle until their relationship with her had advanced to the sexual, if they ever did. He wasn’t at all sure how the sexual needs translated into Hermione’s relationship with Gin.  

The Family Legacies were old books, far older than women’s rights and feminism. The language was patriarchal and sometimes derogatory toward women. He remembered the way Hermione had pursed her lips while reading the part of the ritual that involved the Head of the family “claiming” the woman sexually. She had beautifully kissable lips.

Dammit. That was not where his mind was supposed to be. 

He needed to contact the one reporter from the Prophet that they thought they might be able to trust - Belinda Bagshot, Bathilda’s great niece. She had graduated Hogwarts just two years ahead of Bill and he knew she was likely to report accurately. Summoning a memory of his first date with Fleur, Bill’s patronus appeared and he began giving it the message when he was cut off by an explosive swearing storm from Percy. 

“What is it?” he asked his brother, a sick feeling in his stomach when he saw that Percy was clutching a special evening edition of the Prophet.

Chapter 4

Notes:

I'm so excited to get this new chapter out. I still don't have a set update schedule and I honestly haven't started the next chapter yet, but I'll be working on it. I have such fun places I want to go with this and I love writing it!

There will eventually be some (probably a lot of) smut in this story, but it's not happening immediately, and certainly not with all of them immediately. They need time to process the war they just went through, the people they've lost, and get to know each other better in the context of spouses.

This chapter includes some conversations and behavior that might be considered Molly bashing? I'm not sure where I'm going with her storyline yet, but I do think it's important that her children get to express how she makes them feel. It was something I feel the books and movies never addressed.

Tell me how you feel about Molly. In general as a character and/or in the things that happen within this chapter. Please?

“That bitch has claimed we used Dark Magic to bring the twins back from the dead, just like we knew she would. But she also says some rubbish about them being killed by Voldemort himself. She heavily implies that they don’t have souls anymore and that we knew that before we brought them back.”

 

Bill snatched the paper from Percy and sat down to read it for himself. His head hurt. His heart hurt. He wanted to collapse into bed with Fleur and Hermione - fuck, just with Fleur - and sleep until he felt whole again. He could feel the weight of his emotions pushing at the mental dam he had created to hold them back. Bill knew he didn’t have time to fall apart right now. The family needed him to be in charge and hold his own shit together.

 

“Well, this shite makes the interview even more important,” he said, getting shakily to his feet. He felt the world tilting before he could stretch to his full height.

 

Fleur was speaking rapid french as her arms came around him. Bill was suddenly aware that a number of healers were there and felt his body floating up. “No, I have to talk to the reporter,” he mumbled, but there was a potion at his lips, then darkness.

 

****************************

 

Ginny greeted Harry excitedly when he entered her room after the family meeting. She needed the update. And just him . She couldn’t get enough of him now that they were finally able to be together again. She brushed aside the thought that it would be even better to have Hermione here. The thought about her new wife wasn’t unwelcome, but she and Harry had been doing so well over the past few days. 

 

“What happened?” she asked, patting the bed next to her so he would sit with her instead of going to the chair nearby. She was a little surprised to see him hesitate for a fraction of a second by the chair. Why wouldn’t he want to sit right with her as usual?

 

“Your Mum’s going to be a handful when she wakes. The Healers told her about your father and that the twins were dead as well.”

 

“Oh Merlin,” Ginny groaned. “That’s going to be a nightmare!”

 

Harry could only nod in agreement. “Bill’s going to do an interview with a reporter from somewhere besides the Prophet so we can head off Skeeter.”

 

“Like she won’t spread her lies anyway,” Ginny shook her head.

 

“Well, getting a jump on her can’t hurt.”

 

“Was that all they talked about?” Ginny asked. 

 

“Yeah. Well, how everyone was. Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Ron are up and moving around. Hermione and the twins are curled up in a pile asleep. I can’t believe how long it is taking for them to wake up.”

 

Ginny felt an odd surge of not quite jealousy - more a longing for it to be her instead - but shoved it aside and gave Harry a sly grin. “Well, I’m okay with it. That’s three less people than could potentially burst in on us right now.” Reaching for him, Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry’s skinny frame and moved to kiss him. He leaned in as well, smiling at her with his emerald green eyes going dark.

 

Then they both stopped. Instead of the kiss she had planned, Ginny found herself pecking his cheek and pulling rapidly back. Harry was staring at her. 

 

“What was that?” he asked, appearing to be just as confused as she was.

 

“I kissed your cheek,” she said defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

 

“No, there’s not,” he agreed. “It’s just not very like you.”

 

“Well it wasn’t my plan. It’s just…” She was afraid to explain how she had felt. She closed her eyes, attempting to sort out her sudden shift in emotions.

 

“Let’s try that again,” Ginny said cautiously. 

 

This time Harry leaned forward first. He put a hand on her cheek and began to pull her face closer to his. When their lips were almost touching, Harry practically leapt off the bed.

 

“I can’t! It feels… weird. Wrong.”

 

Ginny nodded as she sat on the bed blinking back tears.

 

“Why does it feel so weird all of a sudden?” Harry queried, running his hands through his wild hair as he sat back down on the bed, a good bit further from her than he had been before.

 

“I don’t know. I just know that looking at you feels more like… like looking at Bill.”

 

Harry nodded. “Me too. Like a sibling. Shite. What did we do?”

 

“I don’t know, but it’s got to be the magic somehow, doesn’t it?” Ginny expected to feel overwhelmed with anger and heartbreak, but there was just a sense of sadness.

 

“Since you’re married to Mione now, are you… do you have to be faithful to her?” Harry looked more curious than upset.

 

“No, that wouldn’t make sense. Bill and Fleur are still fine.”

 

“Do you think… did we just not love each other enough or something?” he asked sadly. 

 

Ginny hugged him. It was like hugging Ron. “I don’t think this has anything to do with how much we love each other.” She sighed. “But maybe… maybe it’s the magical bonds. I mean… Bill and Fleur were already married. Bonded together. Hermione is now bonded to me and my brothers. You’re bonded to Hermione as her brother…” 

 

“I um… I may have said something about you all being my family and your brothers being my brothers,” Harry admitted. Muttering, he added, “And I might have put some magic behind it.”

 

Ginny reached out and smacked the back of his head. “Harry!”

 

“Ow! I didn’t do it on purpose!” he said, scrambling away from her. “Let’s go talk to Bill. I bet he can fix it.”

 

“Bill looks bowled over, doesn’t he? This can wait for morning. We still love each other no matter what, so we can sort whether it’s romantic or not later.”

 

Harry smiled, “Of course,” but then couldn’t suppress a yawn. 

 

Ginny giggled at him, then frowned. “I was going to ask you to curl up with me and sleep here tonight, but now I’m not sure.”

 

Pushing his glasses up and staring at her, Harry slowly nodded. “Maybe I should… should go back to Grimmauld to sleep.” 

 

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed sadly. “I guess so.”

 

“I could um… I know we had talked about you moving in and some of your stuff is there already and… there are lots of rooms at Grimmauld. Do you want me to move your stuff into one of them? I still want you there while we get this sorted out. If you want to, of course.”

 

It was easy to see that Harry was nervous about the suggestion. Ginny wished she could be certain whether his nerves were due to hoping she would say yes or hoping she would say no. After a moment, she told him, “Yes, another room would be good.”

 

She certainly wouldn’t want to live at the Burrow if Mum reacted badly. And she wanted to be near Harry even if they were just friends now. Siblings. Whatever he or the ritual or Bill had accidentally declared them. Hopefully it wasn’t too hard to reverse.

 

He gave her another hug and a squeeze on the shoulder then left the room, his green eyes trailing to meet hers until he had to turn the corner. 

 

Ginny sighed. She wanted to go find Hermione, but she knew no one would let her in the room while the triad was still sleeping. Bollocks. She would have to try to sleep alone.                                                                              

 

****************************

 

Ron had been sitting by his Mum’s bed ever since Bill adjourned the family meeting. Someone needed to be there and he was the most well-rested at the moment. He was still dozing in the uncomfortable hospital chair, mind, but he was more likely to wake with her than the others. He was a far lighter sleeper now than he used to be anyway. The time in the tent, even with his break from it, had changed some things for him.

 

Then there was the final battle, and everything that had happened since. A lot of changes had happened for Ron. His head kept going back to Hermione. He had expected to feel a lot of jealousy and anger. He had given up his most treasured memory of the girl he had believed he would settle down with. They couldn’t be sure since it wasn’t a planned part of the ceremony, but it seemed that giving the triad his memory of the love and passion he and Hermione shared had fundamentally changed the two of them and the way they connected to one another. It didn’t matter. Fred and George were alive. That was what mattered.

 

And Ron knew Hermione was still a part of his life. He still loved her. It was just the attraction was gone now, and all those wonky butterfly feelings. When he thought about the future they might have had together, all he could think was how relieved he was that it would never happen. They would have been terrible together. Even in the Weasley marriage, they would have been terrible. It was such a bloody relief that he could be a part of it just as her friend.

 

He was just starting to contemplate how the others might feel about him whisking her away for some time with just him and Harry when he was interrupted by a gasp. Looking up quickly, he saw Mum’s eyes grow wide and then she immediately started crying. 

 

“My baby boy! My little Ronnie! Were you with them?” she demanded, the tears rolling down her cheeks as she pulled him close.

 

“We were all -”

 

“How dare you!? How could you go with them? What did you do to my twins?” Molly sobbed. 

 

“Mum, they’re okay,” he assured her, having to speak louder and more firmly than he would have liked with her so distressed. “The twins are alive. They’re going to be fine.”

 

“What? They said… They told me your father… my Arthur… and then you… Bill… took the twins and it killed them,” Molly said, the tears only getting more out of control as she went on.

 

Ron shook his head as much as he could with her holding him so tightly close. “We did take them, but -”

 

“I can’t believe you would do something so irresponsible, so -”

 

“MUM! Stop a moment and listen! Please, Mum.” He paused, realizing her body had gone rigid. She pulled away from him and he could tell by the look on her face that he was in for it. “Bloody hell, just listen for a minute,” he said in exasperation. “Bill and Mione had come up with a ritual to keep Fred from dying.”

 

“But not George?” she gasped.

 

“George wasn’t the one in danger if Fred was okay. George shared his life force with Fred to keep him from dying during the battle. It was Fred’s body giving out,” Ron explained.

 

“Oh my poor twins!” she was sobbing even harder.

 

“They’re okay. It’s okay,” Ron reassured.

 

His Mum looked up at him, rage and grief warring in her eyes, “Ronald Bilius Weasley, don’t you dare tell me things are okay when your father is gone!” Her face changed to one of hope. “Is… is my Arthur okay? Did the ritual bring him back, too?”

 

“Mum. It didn’t bring anyone back. Dad… he was already gone during the battle. We couldn’t… none of us were close enough to help when it happened. The twins were different. A wall -”

 

“So you didn’t care? None of you? We had seven children and not one of you was grateful enough to save your father?” Mum’s voice had started out sad, but worked into a wail.

 

Ron managed to pull away from her and move back from the bed. He knew it was going to be hard for her to cope with everything, but he hadn’t realized it would be this bad. Before trying to talk to her anymore, he conjured his Patronus and sent an urgent message to Bill. He knew Fleur had dragged him off somewhere to sleep, but he couldn’t handle Mum on his own when she was like this.

 

She was still going on, but Ron was trying to tune out her actual words. She didn’t mean it, not really. This was her grief talking. She and Dad had been together for almost 30 years. Ron couldn’t remember a day of his life at home when they weren’t both there. Honestly, the fact that she could focus on anything, even if it was yelling at him, was surprising. That didn’t stop it from hurting, or make it any easier to deal with alone.

 

The Healers arrived before Bill got there. His mother’s shouts had alerted them. As they were about to tip a potion down her throat, Ron stepped up.

 

“What are you giving her?”

 

“Just a regular Calming Draught,” the Healer told him. “Hopefully that will be enough. Sooner or later she really will have to face all of this. It would be healthier if it were sooner.”

 

Bill came racing into the room just as they finished pouring the potion down her throat. His face was nearly grey with exhaustion, but he smiled sadly when he saw she was still awake after the potion. “Mum, we’re so glad you’re okay.”

 

She sniffled, “You think this is okay? How can I ever be okay? You didn’t save Arthur.”

 

“Mum, we did everything we could. Fred and George are here. They’re doing well. The Healers just want to observe them for a day or two,” he said softly. Ron could tell the comment about Dad hurt him, but Bill was trying his hardest to act like Dad would have. Respond in a soothing way, then change the subject. Calm her down.

 

“Just like we’ll be wanting to do with you, Madam,” the Healer slipped in smoothly, running diagnostics over their Mum. “That was a nasty curse you took. Our lead Healer went through nearly every spell he knew before we got through. I’m afraid you’ll always have that scar on your stomach.”

 

“Well, it’s not the only one,” Mum said, sending a watery smile to her two boys in the room. “Seven children cause a few scars in the area.”

 

Ron felt relieved and could see the feeling reflected in Bill’s posture. The conversation with the Healer seemed to be bringing their mother back to herself. He looked toward the door as two more boys stepped inside. Percy and Charlie had joined them. 

 

Trying to keep his voice low enough that Mum wouldn’t hear, Bill said, “Charlie, what are you doing out of bed already?”

 

“I took a nutrition potion and a Pepper Up. I can’t leave all of this for you to handle, Bill.”

 

“You shouldn’t have more than one nutrition potion at a time,” Percy told him, “The Mediwitch assigned to me clearly stated -”

 

“I didn’t,” Charlie interrupted. “I never took the first potions they tried to give me. I didn’t want to take the time.”

 

“Charlie,” Bill started sternly, “The point of coming to the Healers was to let them help us.”

 

“I let them look at me. They said I needed food and sleep and to restore my magical core. I didn’t think they had a potion for what I needed most,” Charlie replied calmly. Bill gave him a look and Charlie’s eyes met the floor.

 

Ron wasn’t sure what Charlie had meant by that, but he shrugged and went to focus on Percy and Mum. Bill and Charlie were almost as bad as the twins at having their own understandings and not letting the rest of them in. Meanwhile, Percy had sat down next to Mum and was whispering to her. 

 

Surprisingly, Mum and Percy were crying quietly together. Ron walked over next to them and their mother reached out to grab his hand, “Oh Ronnie, I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m still… I am angry with all of you for pulling such a stunt, but thank goodness your brothers made it!”

 

“It was the only chance for them, Mum,” Ron agreed. “We had to take them.”

 

She nodded and pulled him and Percy both into a hug until the Healer walked back over and shooed the two of them off the edge of the bed. “What I want to know,” the woman said as she poked and prodded at their mother, “is how you did it.”

 

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Ron looked at his two eldest brothers. They both looked pale. He could tell that Bill wanted nothing more than to avoid this conversation. He hadn’t been able to do much to lighten Bill’s load. Telling this was something he could do. Ron confidently explained, “We used the Family Legacies.”

 

Mum and the Healer both gasped. 

 

“We do not EVER speak of such things,” Mum hissed. “How could you? How dare you use magic like that without your father or I there with you. Anything could have happened! You could have all died!” 

 

Her voice was rising rapidly, her breathing becoming erratic. They couldn’t really discern her words anymore, just the screaming cadence of her voice that they were all so familiar with when she lost her temper. 

 

The Healer spun on them. “Now you’ve done it! All of you out! We’ll have to sedate her again.”

*****************************

 

Fred wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep. It took him a moment to identify the curls in his face and realize that he was cuddled to Hermione Granger with his twin’s arm hung over him from her other side. He wasn’t unhappy about any of it, especially as he remembered how the three of them came to be there. He felt amazing, actually. Still tired down to his bones, but hungry and ready to be awake for a while. 

 

Not wanting to wake the other two, he stayed in place for now, just letting his mind run. Fred had always had trouble being still, but something in him seemed to have changed slightly in that regard. “Nearly dying will change some things, mate,” he heard in his head. In moments like this, with George snoring softly across from him, he wasn’t really sure if it was his own voice or somehow his twin’s.

 

He still couldn’t believe the lengths they had all gone to save him. He remembered the battle, Percy cracking an actual joke, then a blast, and the wall falling. He remembered the excruciating, crushing pain throughout his entire body and the certainty that it was over. And George. He remembered hearing his twin fall apart. There were half memories for a while after that. Words he could hear spoken, fragments of impressions, or moments of bright lights in his eyes, but nothing substantial until he woke in the middle of the ritual, still in pain, but with his body knitting itself back together, the magic of his family mixing with their new wife’s and calling him back. 

 

Wife. More than a wife. He could feel her through their bond, different than the bond he had always had with George but strong. Fred honestly couldn’t be more thrilled. He had admired Hermione for years, but… Ronniekins. And now… Fred had been pretty out of it during the first part of the ritual, but if he saw what he thought he did, his little brother had given up his rights to Hermione specifically to save him from dying. When had Ron grown up so much? Fred had so many questions. None of which would be answered unless he woke his two bondmates or went to find one of the others.

 

Fred moved George’s arm to snuggle Hermione closer as he scooted away from her, carefully tucking the blanket around behind her. He smiled watching her burrow into his brother’s chest and George respond with an unconscious smile. Fred felt relief sweep through him at the sight. 

 

He hadn’t had a lot of time to process everything yet, but a deep fear that had already settled inside him was that George might be unhappy in their triad. He knew his brother had wanted to try something with Alicia once the war settled down. Or maybe there would have been someone else. Fred hated that his twin, his whole family really, may have given up their own happiness to keep him alive. Seeing Georgie snuggle their girl and enjoy it that much even in sleep helped that fear loosen a bit.

 

He silently padded across the room and slipped out the door into the hustle and bustle of the hospital hall. The waiting room beyond contained two people that were perfect for what he wanted, though they both looked like they had been through hell and hadn’t rested a wink.

 

“Bill, Charlie,” he greeted softly, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he had escaped from the room. He suspected that bitch of a Healer would be back this morning and wouldn’t take kindly to him being out of the room - especially with as much trouble as they had already caused disappearing.

 

Both brothers jumped at his voice, then Bill called out a joyous, “Fred!” Charlie surprised him by crossing the room and enveloping him in a hug before anyone could say another word. Fred was honestly shocked by the intensity of their reactions. Of course his brothers loved him, but… he had always thought that beyond that it was more about tolerating him and George. He felt tears leaking from his eyes as Bill joined the hug, too. 

 

Of course, Bill couldn’t refrain from playing big brother for too long. “What are you doing out of bed, Freddie?”

 

“I’m hungry and I didn’t want to wake George and Hermione,” he started to explain. 

 

Charlie gave him one last squeeze and then set off down the hall, calling back, “I’ll grab some food for you and be right back.”

 

“He didn’t have to do that,” Fred said, watching his brother almost sprint down the hall. 

 

“Let him. He needs something to do,” Bill replied. “Besides, if we ask the Healers for food, they’ll drag you back to bed already.”

 

“And you’re for me staying up, big brother?” Fred grinned in surprise.

 

“If it means we get to talk to you, then I’m all for it. Healer Jacobs doesn’t really want us going back in your room.”

 

“I somehow doubt her opinion of you is going to get better for letting me stay out here with you.”

 

Bill looked him over. “After you eat your soup, you’re going straight back to bed, young man,” he said sternly. Then he grinned and added, “But until then, let’s talk.”

 

Fred nodded. “Can we sit?” he asked, his legs suddenly weaker than he expected them to feel. Bill nodded and Fred dropped gratefully into a chair at a little cafe style table. “I have some things I need to talk about anyway, Bill, and I assume you’re the one who will know most of my answers.”

 

His eldest brother looked pensive but nodded. “I can certainly try.”

 

Now that he had the go ahead, it took Fred a few moments to wrap his head around all the things he needed to know. “Why did you do it?”

 

Bill’s eyebrows rose. “The ritual?” When Fred nodded, staring at him, Bill huffed. “Fred, you and George… you’re my little brothers… our twins… the life and laughter of the family… I don’t know how to answer because I can’t believe you need to ask it.”

 

Fred blinked. “I guess I didn’t realize we meant so much to everyone. With Mum on us all the time, I think Georgie and I know ourselves more as the family disappointments. Hogwarts dropouts and all.”

 

“Excuse me,” Charlie interrupted, walking back in with a tray full of food, “I don’t think merely dropping out of school can shove me off my throne of biggest family disappointment. At least you haven’t left the country, grown your hair long, and found any dangerous creatures to play with.”

 

He couldn’t help but laugh. Charlie might have a point there. His brother set a bowl of soup and a glass of juice down in front of him and Fred dug in. 

 

“You know Mum doesn’t mean it when she says stuff like that about all of us, right?” Bill defended wearily. “She’s just trying to help us be happier.”

 

“Do you really believe that shite?” Charlie asked, staring into his cup of tea.

 

“Well, she’s not trying to hurt any of us. She just takes her own assumptions too far. You know she needs Dad to balance…” Bill choked on his words as he realized what he was saying. 

 

Fred could tell by the expression on his eldest brother’s face that it had all just hit him again. If he knew Bill, big brother had been so busy holding everyone together, he hadn’t had time to deal with any of it himself. Charlie clearly saw it, too, one hand reaching out to hold Bill’s shoulder steady. When Bill shook him off and put the calm mask back on, Fred saw a worried look cross Charlie’s face. The two of them had always been almost as close as he and George. Charlie would be there for Bill when he fell apart, and even push him into it if Bill tried to go too long without the breakdown he would need to have. Knowing that was a relief to Fred. He didn’t like worrying about things and he was seeing far too much to worry about right now.

 

Taking a deep breath, Bill changed the subject. “So you have more questions?”

 

“Yeah,” Fred agreed, again sorting through all the things he wanted to know. “How does this work? With our twin bond and the family bond?”

 

“Well, we won’t completely know for a while. I believe that the triad bond will always come first. Hermione is tied more deeply to you and George than to the rest of us.”

 

“Lucky sods,” Charlie grumbled quietly. Fred raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. “She’s beautiful and wickedly smart. Brave. Compassionate. Loves creatures. I like her, okay?” Fred was surprised to see how red Charlie had turned.

 

“If you didn’t before, you probably would now,” Bill said. “Even without all those reasons, the bond makes her even more attractive to all of us. And us to her.”

 

“Not that that has ever been a problem,” Ginny said as she joined them, taking a seat next to Fred. “The only Weasley boy she’s never had at least a crush on is Percy, and I’ve seen her give him a once-over more than once.”

 

All three of them stared at her like she was a nargle come to life. Fred was the first one to find his voice. “Now I know we’ve always encouraged you to prank back, little sis, but you don’t have to be cruel about it.”

 

Ginny punched his arm. “Don’t be a prat. She was a wreck around you for most of her fifth year. Don’t pretend you didn’t notice.”

 

Fred knew his eyes had gone wide. “She was not. She… I… There’s no way she was interested. She was always getting onto us.”

 

“You two are always doing things you should be in trouble for,” Bill noted.

 

Ginny and Charlie both laughed as they agreed. “You know Hermione has far too many principles to ignore your bad behavior just because she liked you. That’s not who she is.”

 

Fred was too stunned to even agree, though he did know that Hermione wouldn’t compromise her principles that way. It had just never occurred to him that she might return the feelings he had harbored for her. He suddenly grinned as he realized that Ginny might be right, probably was as she was Hermione’s closest girl friend. Girlfriend.

 

“Wait. What about you, Gin?” Fred asked.

 

“What about me?” she challenged with her eyebrows raised.

 

“I mean… were you two… involved before?”

 

His sister rolled her eyes at him. “Of course not.”

 

“But you will be now?” Fred asked, unable to contain the question.

 

Ginny hesitated. “I’m honestly not sure how that part works,” she admitted, looking to Bill. 

 

Their oldest brother looked extremely uncomfortable. “I don’t… I’m not completely sure how it will affect all of us. Obviously the twins will feel the strongest pull to be with her. But the rest of us… My thoughts keep going back to her, but it’s not a big deal.”

 

Charlie grimaced, but didn’t say anything. Fred wondered what that meant, but decided to speak up. “I felt half sick earlier until she came into the room with us. I’m okay right now, but part of me wants to get back to her and George.”

 

“I really need to see her,” Ginny said quietly, “but I’m not sure if that’s because I’m worried about one of my best friends or because I want to touch her.”

 

Bill cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Were you… um… interested in Hermione before this?”

 

Ginny stared at him. “Are you kidding me? I have eyes and she’s gorgeous. But it was never true love or anything - definitely not worth risking our friendship over. Just a ‘sure, I’d go there if she wanted to.’”

 

“And now it’s true love?” Fred asked, flicking his wand so that little hearts appeared in the air all around Ginny. 

 

She transfigured one of them into a small pillow and hit him with it. Fred laughed, “How will your dear Mr. Potter feel about you being with Hermione?”

 

Biting her lip, Ginny shook her head. “I’m not sure I’m going to have dear Mr. Potter in my life that way.” She looked sad.

 

“What did he do?” Charlie asked, full big brother mode in effect.

 

“Calm down, Charlie,” she told him. “Something is just… different. Since the Battle, we had been talking about being together again and talking about the future. Then he came to see me as soon as the family meeting was over and… touching each other feels weird, to both of us. It has to be the magic somehow.”

 

Bill looked perplexed. “The ritual shouldn’t have changed anyone’s feelings toward other people, except maybe with Fred and George.”

 

“He might have also declared all my brothers his brothers. With magic behind it. Plus you declared he and Hermione siblings. That’s a lot of new bonds crossing, especially adding in the ritual. We were hoping you might be able to sort it out, Bill, and help us fix it.”

 

Her eldest brother let out a low whistle. “I can try, but I’m not making any promises. I was focused on the ritual and making the strongest bonds possible for it. If anything I did took Harry away from you… I’m so sorry, Gin.”

 

“Don’t be. Not yet, anyway. All I want right now is to see our lovely wife.” Ginny said impatiently. 

 

Bill’s eyebrows shot up. “For those of us outside the triad, the ritual should have just enhanced our feelings toward Hermione. I’m a little confused why some seem to be struggling more than others.”

 

“Well you just said it enhances our feelings,” Percy said as he joined them, dropping into a chair. “So if we didn’t have much feeling for her either way, maybe it just wasn’t a huge step up?”

 

“Oi, Percy!” Fred greeted. “ Passion ? Really?”

 

Their straightlaced, rule-abiding brother gave him the cheekiest grin he had ever seen on a Weasley. “Just because we grew up together doesn’t mean you know everything about me now,” he said with a smirk. “As for Hermione, I would kind of like to see her, and I’ll probably feel better when she’s in the room just like the rest of you, but my interest is more… academic, in a way.

 

“Hoping to help her pass her NEWTs?” Fred joked.

 

Percy gave a slow grin that looked almost predatory. “Oh, little brother, there are far more interesting things to learn about.”

 

“I have a feeling we should compare notes,” Ginny said with a matching grin. Percy just laughed and shook his head. Fred wasn’t sure he believed what he was hearing. It certainly seemed like Percy was talking about some kind of sexual exploration. But surely that couldn’t be right.

 

Obviously trying to change the subject, Bill brought the conversation back on track. “So our varying degrees of need for Hermione may depend on our feelings about her to begin with,” Bill surmised.

 

“So what are your feelings toward Hermione?” Charlie asked, still staring into his now cold tea. 

 

“Well, I… She’s always been like a kid sister, like Ginny. But now…” The way Bill trailed off made everyone pause, waiting, but he just shifted nervously and didn’t say anything else.

 

“So it was a big change for you?” Fred asked.

 

Bill blushed. “My part of the ritual was a bit more… interactive than everyone else’s. I would be lying if I said it didn’t change how I see her. But I think, too, that I don’t feel as much need for her as some of you because she and I’s bond was sealed.” He coughed a bit on the last word.

 

Fred laughed. “‘Sealed’ the bond, eh? Is that some sort of euphemism for sex?”

 

The blush that spread across Bill’s cheeks answered that question. Fred’s jaw dropped. “Wait! Seriously!? She actually had to have sex with you for this ritual?”

 

Bill gave a quick nod of affirmation. Fred was shocked that Hermione would have agreed to that. And the next moment he realized he was quite jealous about it.

 

“It was the only way,” Bill said quietly. “I saved her as much embarrassment as I could, but she knew what she was agreeing to when she said she would do it. She and I created the combined ritual together.”

 

“Saved her embarrassment, but what about pain?” Charlie queried, his voice low.

 

Bill gave him a sharp look. “She didn’t tell me she was a virgin until it was too late. I would have been slow and careful with her if I had known. I thought she would just want to get it over with quickly.”

 

“WHAT!?” Ginny cried. “Are you telling me you just… fucked her on her first time?”

 

“I didn’t mean to! How was I supposed to know?” Bill tried to defend.

 

“You absolute git,” Ginny said as she glared at him. “You didn’t think to ask?”

 

“She just spent most of a year in a tent with two teenage boys! Why on earth would I think there was even a possibility?”

 

“That’s… actually a good point,” Fred mused. 

 

“She deserved better than that,” Charlie insisted, his voice nearly a growl.

 

“She also deserved better than being married to seven siblings,” Percy said, pushing his glasses higher on his nose, “But here we all are.”

 

“How was it decided that she had to marry all of us?” Fred asked. He was trying still to wrap his head around this ritual. He was soon hearing all the details of looking up rituals in the Family Legacies and combining them and why they would have.

 

“And you really don’t think it could have been done without soulbinding her to us?” he asked Bill.

 

“I honestly don’t know,” Bill said, “But you and George already were, so to be in balance I think she had to be as well.”

 

Fred shook his head. If Bill didn’t know, the information was probably not worth trying to find out. It really didn’t matter now anyway. What was done was done. 

 

“Are you upset about the bond?” Charlie asked. 

 

“Merlin, no!” Fred said with a grin. “I just feel like all of this is so unfair to her.”

 

Bill sighed. “She helped me figure out the ritual and everything it would entail before we knew it would be her. When she volunteered, Hermione was well aware of what she was getting into. She still deserves better, but we at least weren’t hiding any of it from her.”

 

“I think the more important thing is to do whatever we can to give her everything she deserves,” Charlie said.

 

“I agree. I don’t know wh-” 

 

Percy was interrupted by the sound of a door hitting the wall from being flung so hard. Someone shrieked and then George came around the corner panting and with his eyes wild. 

 

“Mr. Weasley!” the bad-tempered nurse snapped at him. “One of you is already missing. You are not allowed to leave your bed…”

 

She might as well have not been talking for all the attention George was paying her. The moment he saw Fred, he was across the room and clinging to him. 

 

“Why did you leave without us?”

 

“Us? Where is Hermione?” Fred heard his own voice was tinged with a hint of panic now, too.

 

“Oh. I think she stayed in bed when the Healer Overlord showed up. You should come back in there with us. They’re bringing us food and then I was thinking we could snuggle up together.”

 

“Hold it, boys,” Bill said, “I know you need Hermione, but I think some of the others may need her for a bit, too.”

 

The twins looked at him, then around at their siblings. “Well everyone can come in - the more the merrier!”

 

“Absolutely not!” the nurse screeched. “They are not allowed in your…”

 

“Do I really have to threaten you again already?” a weary Hermione asked from the door of their room. 

 

Chapter 5

Notes:

I'm so excited to have finally finished this chapter! I don't know why, but I really had a hard time figuring out what exactly they needed to DO at this moment (and some of the sibling interactions definitely went different places than I had originally imagined). Thankfully, I have the next couple of chapters laid out already and the next one has been started.

I continue to be astounded by the response to this story. Thank you all so much! I hope you love it as much as we go along as I am loving writing it.

My alphabets, LadyWinterlight and Omnenomnom are lovely, helpful people!

I don't own Harry Potter.

Hermione felt better as her entire family made their way into the room she was sharing with the twins. George had woken up feeling marvelous until he realized that Fred was gone. Now that the missing twin was restored, both of them seemed much more energetic and nearly back to their regular, boisterous selves. She felt… needy. 

 

There was no time to discuss it, though, as Healer Jacobs bustled in and began her fussing. She was glaring at everyone in the room. “The patients need a calm, quiet environment to improve their health. Healer Walker is bringing food and will be doing your diagnostics while I explain your healing procedures.”

 

The Healer Overlord continued, outlining her plan to have no more than one visitor at a time and an enforced schedule of waking and eating. She was detailing the schedule when Hermione tuned out. 

 

This wasn’t at all what she and her family wanted or needed. Hermione wanted to wrap herself around the boys in the room. All of them. Ginny was already snuggled into her side. The red haired girl had thrown herself at Hermione the moment she had shown herself and hadn’t let go since. It made Hermione a little nervous, especially when Ginny’s fingers began rubbing little circles along her thigh, but it also helped her feel more connected, content.

 

Now she needed… Charlie was the first that came to mind. Percy and Bill, too, but not as strongly. There was a tiny desire for Ron to be nearby, but it wasn’t as essential. She didn’t need to touch him. Just know he was around. 

 

The Overlord cleared her throat, glaring at Hermione. It seemed she had been trying to get her attention. 

 

“I’m afraid I didn’t hear most of that,” Hermione said. “But I don’t think there is any point in you repeating it. Please let the other healers report what the diagnostics show and then you should leave.” Her voice was the bossiest perfect Prefect tone she could manage. 

 

“I have had enough of you!” Healer Jacobs exclaimed. 

 

“Good. I’ve had enough of you, too,” Hermione cut in before she could continue. “If we are to stay any longer, we will need to be reassigned to someone else.”

 

“You need to stay here. It is not an if ,” she snarled. 

 

“Let me assure you it is a huge ‘if,’” Bill stated, stepping close to the bed. “Our family will consider what you have said and discuss it. You should leave now.”

 

Healer Jacobs spun on her heel and stormed away. Again. At the door she said, “I will be back with the director of the hospital!”

 

The other Healer grimaced and rolled her eyes. “Would you like an update and the opinion of a junior Healer?”

 

“Very much so,” Hermione said, smiling kindly. 

 

“You are all healthy, just needing more food, sleep, and the restoring of magical cores. Which, quite frankly, have improved so much since yesterday that I am quite certain they will be back to normal within a day or two as long as you stay together. I am mildly concerned that Mrs. Weasley is struggling more with her magical core than Fred and George, but I’m sure it has something to do with the new bond and will stabilize. In my opinion, you might find your own home more restful and less… regulated. There is no health reason for you to stay here.”

 

“Thank you, Healer Walker. May we have some time in the room here for the family to talk?” 

 

“Of course. I will put a do not disturb spell on your door.”

 

Even though Healer Walker was quite nice and respectable, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she left and it was just a room full of Weasleys. She wasn’t the only one with that reaction, either. Bill had nearly fallen into a chair when he could let go of his Head of the Family persona. Ginny snuggled more deeply against her. Fred and George collapsed closer together, lounging on the bed.

 

As she looked around the room, her eyes connected to Charlie’s. He blushed and glanced quickly away, but looked relieved when she waved him over. In the noisy room, he leaned close to her, his lips next to her ear. She could feel him take a deep breath, inhaling her scent before he spoke, his voice coming out more gravelly than normal. “What do you need, little draga?”

 

“You beside me, I think,” she responded quietly, her face flushed as she said it. She had a hand on his bicep and felt infinitely more relaxed already. She heard his relieved sigh at her touch, though she was almost certain he hadn’t meant for her to.

 

His only response was to settle next to her on the bed. But it felt awkward, not quite what she needed from him. Did he need it, too? He was fidgeting a lot, but she couldn’t tell if he was uncomfortable being so close or because they weren’t close enough. As though she were more tuned into him than anything else in the room, she could hear Charlie’s breathing escalating as though he were panicking. 

 

“Is this right for you?” she asked, not wanting to tell him how she was feeling if he was needing to get away from her. Charlie had barely known her before this. She could hardly expect him to want her much less need her. If he… if he didn’t, she would deal with it. She wasn’t about to force him into being with her. 

 

“It’s fine,” Charlie said, his voice a little strained. She wished she had some idea what was going on in his head. 

 

Suddenly, George was in front of her, giving Charlie a little bit of a push away. His older brother stiffened and refused to move for a moment before catching himself, blushing, and starting to scoot away to give George space. 

 

“That’s not what I’m doing, you git,” George said. Hermione and Charlie both looked at him curiously. “Ginny, get up a moment, we need to shift people around.” 

 

Ginny grumbled as she moved away from Hermione, but then smiled when she was standing. “Merlin, I feel so much better than I did! And that was just from a little snuggling!”

 

“You can come back in a moment,” George assured her. He then turned back to Hermione and Charlie and began directing them. “Charlie - on the bed, cross your legs and pull her onto your lap.”

 

“I’m not making her-”

 

“I’m bonded to Hermione in a different way, remember?” George raised his eyebrows at Charlie. “I know how she’s feeling and what she needs. And right now, she needs you as much as you need her but she’s overthinking it and you’re being a coward. Now move!”

 

“George!” Hermione squeaked, cheeks flaming. 

 

“Hermione, I know my brothers pretty well, even the one who’s been hiding away in another country most of my life. He needs to hold you every bit as much as you need him. Now both of you quit being noble or this will never work.”

 

Neither of them protested as George prodded Charlie into moving as he had directed and then Hermione crawled to him and gingerly settled in front of him. It was awkward to think about, but the moment Charlie slid his muscular arms around her and pulled her onto his lap, Hermione felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Charlie’s forehead rested against the back of her head, his breath shaky at first. “Merlin, thank you,” he whispered into her curls, as she felt him relaxing. Hermione put a hand on his and squeezed to let him know she was thankful, too.

 

“All right, Gin. As you were,” George told her. Their little sister wasted no time squirming into place against Hermione’s side.

 

Hermione knew she could have spoken up and told them what and who she needed. They probably would have listened. But she felt awkward, not wanting any of them to feel like they had to do things just to make her feel better. This… she was awed by how accurately George was reading her and manipulating everyone into place. As he scanned the room, his eyes landed on Bill. 

 

“Biggest brother, I think you need to lay down on the bed,” George said gently. 

 

“No. I will not,” Bill’s voice was firm, though the look in his eyes said he wanted to. Hermione didn’t know how to feel. If Charlie hadn’t been practically wrapped around her, she might have been hurt by Bill’s rejection. Instead, she just watched the older man who looked so drained. 

 

Touching on her connection to George, she felt his worry and realized it wasn’t her who needed Bill, but the other way around. And maybe - probably - if he had been able to sleep at any point, he wouldn’t have needed her so badly. But he hadn’t, so the recharge of the bond would have helped him if he would let it. 

 

Of course, that should be true of his marriage bond with Fleur, too. Hermione was surprised that she hadn’t noticed the woman missing until this moment. A terrible thought slid through her mind. Had Fleur gotten angry after all? Had she left him?

 

“Bill,” she said gently, “Where is Fleur?”

 

“I left her sleeping in the room they had put us in, when Ron’s patronus woke me to see about Mum,” he said with a sigh. 

 

“Mum’s awake?” George asked, momentarily distracted from a quiet conversation with Percy, clearly suggesting the man curl up with Hermione as well.

 

“Not anymore,” Bill said. “She was for a short time, but got out of control. Ron meant well, but… he told her we used the Family Legacies and she lost it.”

 

“She didn’t have it to begin with,” Charlie scoffed. 

 

“At one point, I thought she might be able to just be sad. I was explaining to her what happened during the battle and that St. Mungos gave up on them. She hugged Ron and I both. Bill almost got her calmed down, but then the Healer asked how we had done it and Ron explained,” Percy clarified.

 

George and Fred groaned in unison. Fred shook his head. “What are we going to do about her?”

 

“She’s going to struggle. We all are,” Bill said tiredly.

 

“Mum will need our help,” Percy agreed. “She depended on Dad for so much.”

 

Hermione felt Charlie move tensely behind her. She wondered if his reaction was more about his father or Molly. Reaching for his hand again, she began rubbing soothing circles against it. His tension was still there, but she could tell he appreciated the gesture.

 

“You know we’ll be there for her, but we’re only going to be able to take so much,” George said. 

 

Bill leaned forward, “Maybe she’ll be more reasonable than we expect, after the first shock. She might just be sad. Regardless, next time she’s awake, I think she needs to see Fred and George.”

 

It was all too obvious that no one believed the first part, but everyone nodded anyway. Hermione was surprised there was this much hidden strife between the siblings and their mother, especially because she had never seen a hint of it beyond good natured jokes about Molly’s overbearing ways. It was in this moment that she realized how completely she had become one of the family in a way she hadn’t been before.

 

Despite that sudden comprehension, she felt like they all needed to talk about something else. “So what comes next?” she asked.

 

George was leading a somewhat reluctant Percy over to the bed as he said, “I think the first order of business is whether we should stay here in the hospital or go home.”

 

“Followed immediately by the second order of business: where’s home?” Fred added.

 

Hermione hadn’t thought of that. “Oh Merlin,” she mused, “Do we need to live together? All of us?” Her unoccupied hand reached for Percy. He wasn’t sitting particularly close, but he did smile when their hands met, more laying on top of each other than holding.

 

Bill ran a hand down his face. “I don’t think so. It’s going to depend on the strength of each bond and how tightly tied we all are. A lot of it is going to be guesswork at first.”

 

“I really wanted to take Hermione back to our flat,” Fred asked, sounding unhappy.

 

Charlie’s hand clenched on hers, but he didn’t say anything.

 

“Can we all go to the Burrow first, while we’re still recovering?” Hermione asked.

 

“Mum may make being there uncomfortable,” Bill ventured. All the boys but Percy nodded.

 

“Not over the next couple of days, you prats,” Ginny spoke up. “ She is definitely not leaving the hospital.”

 

There was a collective sigh of relief at that fact, then Bill spoke again. “I think the idea of being together at the Burrow is probably for the best for most of you. Fleur and I will stay at Shell Cottage, though we’ll be at the Burrow tomorrow after we wake.”

 

“I agree to stay at least for tonight, but if Bill is successful, I will return to my flat tomorrow,” Percy said. Hermione was surprised to see that he had turned to her, assessing her reaction. 

 

“That sounds fine,” she agreed. It made her heart tight, a little, to think of the two of them not being nearby, but it was something she would need to get used to - with more of them than just those two.

 

“So it’s decided we’re not staying here?” George asked the obvious.

 

Bill nodded his ascent and Hermione agreed. “I don’t see any reason to torture ourselves where they’re so angry with us.”

 

“Brilliant,” Fred said with a relieved sigh.

 

“There is something else we should address before trying to get out of here,” Percy reminded, looking to Bill.

 

He grimaced, but took the reins of the conversation. “Skeeter got an article out last night before I could contact anyone for an interview.”

 

“What?” Charlie asked, distressed. “What did she say? Does she know about Hermione?” His entire essence felt protective around her.

 

“Nothing about Hermione,” Percy asserted.

 

“No, just that Voldemort killed the twins personally and then we brought their bodies back with dark magic. They apparently have no souls now,” Bill said, just a little bit snarky.

 

“That foul little bug,” Hermione gritted out. Why hadn’t she smashed the creature when she had the chance?

 

“Come on now, wifey,” Fred said. “At least without our souls, you’re not bound to us. You’ll be free to play the field… of our brothers.” He winked and she felt a blush even though he was being ridiculous.

 

“And sister!” Ginny stated loudly. 

 

“So,” George started, pushing them back on topic so they could get out of the hospital, “do we know anything about how people have reacted? Does the public believe that rubbish?”

 

Percy looked uncomfortable. “I went into the office for a bit. It’s not good and the reporters are out for blood, too. Bill, I know you need to rest, but someone needs to make a statement.”

 

“Should it be the interview we discussed last night?” Bill asked tiredly.

 

“It could be. Or we could make a public statement on our way out,” Percy suggested.

 

“Will that be effective?” Hermione asked. 

 

“Overall, no,” Percy said, “but it could buy us a day or two to let Bill sleep before an in depth interview.”

 

“With us, as well,” George cut in.

 

“What?” Bill asked.

 

“For the interview, mate,” Fred said.

 

“We’ll be part of it,” George finished.

 

Bill opened his mouth to ask another question, but Hermione decided it was time to stop this. “We can worry about other details of the interview later. Let’s get ready to go so we can get home and let everyone sleep.”

 

Percy cleared his throat. “We do still need to decide what to say to the reporters who are here.”

 

A heavy sigh came from Bill. “I’ll tell them… um…”

 

“With all due respect, big brother, I’m not sure you can string two sentences together right now,” Fred noted.

 

“Perhaps I would be the best representative,” Percy suggested.

 

“I love you, Percy, but no,” Ginny said. “We want the public to like us, not see a Ministry official assuring them everything is okay.”

 

His lips thinned, but he nodded. Then his eyes went to Hermione. “In that case, I think our wife-”

 

“No,” Charlie stated, tone firm. “Having Hermione as our family spokesperson makes her far too visible. Someone could ask why she’s the one talking for us.” 

 

Hermione started to bristle at being discussed without her opinion, but she didn’t really disagree with Charlie. She could feel his tension in the way he was holding her, and she badly wanted to ease it. Merlin, her life just got complicated.

 

“So whoever speaks-”

 

“Fred and George, obviously,” Ginny said.

 

Percy sighed. “Fine. Fred and George will need to avoid mentioning Hermione’s role. Assure people Voldemort didn’t kill you, no one actually died, your souls are in place, and it was accomplished using our Family Legacies.”

 

The twins blanched. “We’re just going to say that out loud?” George asked. He noticed Bill’s tense posture. But he still ground out an answer. 

 

“Yes. I don’t know how else to dispel the rumor about the Dark Arts. There will be backlash, but better about our blood traitor ways than people believing we’re performing dark magic after the war we just fought.”

 

“That’s sorted, then,” Hermione spoke up. “Bill, you should go get Fleur. Fred and George will talk to the reporters. Percy,” she tapped his hand for his attention, “Could you speak to St. Mungo’s and smooth over us leaving?”

 

“As best I can,” Percy said in a long-suffering tone, but he was smiling at her. She felt her heart flutter in a way she never would have imagined in relation to him.

 

“Where is Ron?” Hermione asked, remembering that she had meant to ask about him and Harry.

 

“Mum’s room,” George answered.

 

“Will he want to come home with us?” Hermione wondered. 

 

Ginny said, “Who knows with that prat, but I’ll go find out.” With a heavy sigh, she pulled away from Hermione’s side. It was surprising how bereft she felt with the younger girl not touching her. Oh dear, that could be a problem. 

 

That left just her and Charlie unassigned. She would gather their things, but she wasn’t sure if there was anything else that they needed Charlie to do. 

 

Seeing her look, he raised his eyebrows. “Looks like I’m in charge of you, little draga.”

 

“I don’t need anyone to-”

 

Charlie pulled her closer and rested his chin on her shoulder. “I know you don’t. I just want to be sure no one gives you a hard time.” 

 

She turned her head so that she could see him. Hermione was unprepared for the level of affection in his eyes, or for the heat that pooled in her stomach at that look. If anyone had asked her if she wanted someone protecting her, she would have had some choice words to say to them about being able to take care of herself. But this… somehow the idea of Charlie looking out for her was comforting, endearing even. And, honestly, after the last few months, leaning into his strength felt like bliss. 

 

She wasn’t fully aware of everyone else heading out to their respective assignments until the two of them were alone in the room. Hermione felt a sudden flood of nerves. Besides the twins - and really only George since Fred had been fast asleep at the time - this was the first time she had been alone with any of her new husbands. 

 

“You are safe with me, Hermione,” Charlie said. His voice was a little lower than normal but the look in his eyes was still just steady and affectionate. Switching from serious to a more easy-going grin, he added, “I don’t have a lot of relationship experience, but I know the basics. I’ll mess up sometimes, but I would never set out to hurt you. And I’m not pushing for anything you don’t want.”

 

His voice was slightly more strained on the last bit. He wouldn’t push, but Hermione could tell he would want. She wasn’t sure how she was so able to read him when they barely knew each other, but Merlin, she felt nearly as connected to him as to the twins. It was different, but… she was going to need him around a lot, too. 

 

Tearing herself away from that contemplation, she smiled for the words he had said and leaned back into him for a moment. She felt absolutely adored when he smiled back and breathed a long contented sigh with his arms around her.

 

“We really should get busy,” she said. When his eyes darkened fractionally, she raised an eyebrow at him. “I think you know I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughed in response and she slowly slid out of his lap, beginning to move around the room and gather up everything that had come in with them. 

 

*************************************

 

Fred stepped through the floo into the Burrow feeling relieved that mess was over. He and George had goofed about, making ridiculous soul jokes and explaining that He-Who-Needed-A-Nose did not kill them. But then… 

 

The reporters had actually gone silent for long minutes after they revealed it was done with the Family Legacies. Even once the vultures started asking questions, they seemed almost timid, afraid to ask for information they shouldn’t know. George had ended the whole thing once he saw the rest of the family was safely gone, with the assurance that they would be reaching out to a reporter to give a longer interview but that, in the meantime, they requested privacy to mourn for their father.

 

Now Fred was focused on only one objective: Hermione. He hated that he had been pushed aside in their room at St. Mungo’s. He understood that the others needed some connection time with her, too, but he was craving her touch now. 

 

Ahead of him, George looked over his shoulder and pursed his lips, but Fred wasn’t going to be deterred by his twin’s disapproval. He could feel George’s need, too, and Hermione’s if he was interpreting correctly. He thought he was, but it was harder to be sure with hers as he wasn’t accustomed to her feelings yet. 

 

Coming into the kitchen, he saw that Charlie and Percy were cooking. Ginny was plastered to Hermione with Bill on her other side, though he didn’t look happy to be there. 

 

Fleur was just saying, “You must take a few minutes to bond before we go ‘ome, Beel. Magic like zees eez not for playing around.”

 

“Love, our bond is sealed, you know it is. I should be fine.”

 

“You are physically and magically drained. I am holding this hand and our ‘Ermione will hold zee other,” the beautiful woman smiled at Hermione as she took Bill’s hand. 

 

Fred was so surprised he almost stopped in his mission to get to her as well. Fleur, the jealous part-Veela, was being nice to Hermione when she had just become Bill’s second wife? Fred had an inner chuckle at the thought that perfect Bill was now doing something so scandalous as having two wives. He couldn’t wait to hear what Mum had to say about that .

 

Finally at the table, he said, “Oi, Gin. My turn to cuddle the wifey.”

 

His little sister looked at him. “I’m not done with her.”

 

“Ginny, I love having you with me,” Hermione began diplomatically, “but I do need Fred and George sooner than I had hoped.”

 

Did that mean she didn’t want them? Fred felt a crushing weight on his heart, an echo of the same coming from George. Hermione’s eyes met his moments later. “I didn’t mean it like that!” she cried. Then to the room at large she said, “The twins and I have to be together right now.”

 

Fred heard Bill groan softly next to her. Hermione must have heard it as well because she moved her hand to his shoulder and squeezed. “Bill, has this been enough? Would sleep help now?” She was supposedly asking Bill, but her eyes were on Fleur’s. 

 

“Zee easiest way to be sure you are all okay would be to kiss,” Fleur said. 

 

“No!” Bill shouted, startling Hermione. Fred stepped forward and put his arms around their wife’s waist. She wasn’t for a moment going to think she was unwanted just because Bill was being a git. 

 

“Beel, I know you are afraid I weel be upset, but this weel only be good for us.”

 

When Bill still refused, Fleur leaned up and said something directly into his ear. Bill flushed, but nodded, his eyes holding Fleur’s. Turning, he glared at Fred as he moved to gather Hermione into his arms. “Back off, Fred. I’ll get this over with quickly.”

 

Fred knew he should move away and give them their moment, but he had no desire to. He also felt how upset Hermione was from Bill’s continual rejection and it made him even more reluctant to give him the chance with her. Hermione didn’t need Bill as much as he needed her right now. Fred honestly felt this was a lesson big brother needed to learn. He didn’t back up even when Bill growled lowly and moved in closer.

 

Fred could see George starting to move their direction, but he was determined not to back down. “If you want to ‘just get it over with’ then-”

 

“I’m not interested,” Hermione finished, completing his sentence in the same way George usually did. Fred blinked in surprise. She continued, leaning into him more as she spoke, “I’m sorry, Fleur. I want to help him, but I won’t be something he’s forced to do. He can keep his ‘duty’ to himself.”

 

Bill was frozen barely a foot in front of her. He would have looked comical if there hadn’t been so much tension roiling in the air. Fred knew he had never observed the confident man seem so uncertain. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Fleur beat him to it. 

 

“Please, ‘Ermione. ‘E is so drained right now,” Fleur’s voice was trembling. 

 

Hermione wriggled out of Fred’s arms and sidestepped around Bill to hug Fleur. “You are both welcome back if he needs help to sleep, but Fleur, I won’t be treated that way. I know you wouldn’t let him do that to you either.”

 

“I’m right here,” Bill said gruffly, facing the two women. “You can talk to me instead of about me.”

 

Fleur looked up at him with a combination of worry and anger. “We must get you ‘ome to bed before you say something more awful and drive ‘er away forever.”

 

Even though every one of his siblings could tell he wanted to argue about it, Bill allowed himself to be steered to the floo. Fleur said goodbye for both of them and drug him in as though he were a small and disobedient child. Fred heaved a sigh of relief when they were gone. 

 

While the drama had been playing out between Hermione and Fleur, George had edged closer until he was right next to their girl. Fred didn’t feel jealous of him exactly, but he did want to also be there. Fred sidled over and put an arm around their girl’s other side. He was delighted when she leaned her head on him.

 

“I know it’s early,” she began before a yawn split her statement, “but as soon as we eat, I’m ready to rest for a while - and I don’t know if I’ll make it back up.”

 

“We’re definitely ready-”

 

“To bed down with you, love,” Fred finished, squeezing her close.

 

“Now just a minute!” Ginny interjected loudly. “What about me? And Percy and Charlie?”

 

Hermione looked over all of them with a pained look. Fred felt her worry and the way her heart squeezed when she looked around the room. Knowing her, she was heavily overthinking the logistics of this.

 

“For tonight, let’s bring as many beds as we can get into the sitting room and then transfigure them all together,” George suggested.

 

Charlie nodded, “Can you finish dinner, Perce? I’ll get started moving the beds.”

 

“Of course,” Percy replied. Fred knew he was probably happier having the kitchen to himself anyway. Charlie just wasn’t around enough to know that and thought he was helping.

 

As the dragon tamer disappeared into the nearest bedroom, Fred wondered how this was going to work once Charlie had to head back to Romania. Hopefully, he and Hermione just wouldn’t need each other as much as they seemed to right now. 

 

Fred was just grateful that he and Georgie wouldn’t need to jockey for position like the others. She was unequivocally theirs. His twin seemed to want everything played fair, but Fred didn’t mind being selfish. Even knowing they would be snuggled up next to each other in bed very soon, he slid into the seat next to her as Percy served dinner.

 

Shocking no one, Ron flooed in just at that moment as well. Food always seemed to mystically call him home. He dropped into the chair on Hermione’s other side, tossing his arm over her shoulder and pulling her in for a side hug before pulling back and digging into his food.

 

“How is Mum?” Percy asked after they had sat in food-inhaling silence for a few minutes. Everyone had been more hungry than they expected.

 

“Sedated until morning at least,” Ron said around a mouthful of food. “She was up again for a minute, but started screaming about us giving ourselves ancient blood curses or lycanthropy or something and they put her back under. They said in the morning they will give her a draught of peace, then ennervate her, hopefully make some progress that way. They’ll wait for one of us to be there.”

 

“I wonder if they would just let us keep her on a regular dose of it for a while,” George mused.

 

“Unfortunately, protocol for the dispensation of-”

 

“We know , Percy,” Fred cut in. He would undoubtedly recite the entire protocol given the chance. He might have thrown them all for a loop with that ‘passion’ offering, but he was still Percy.

 

Proving his point, Percy sniffed and continued, “I just think you should keep in mind the reasons that there are rules.” But then he looked up and stared Fred directly in the eyes. “Because if you’re going to break them, it should be with proper intent.”

 

Ron spewed food across the table as he choked at that statement. George, on his other side, thumped their little brother on the back. “We’re shocked, too, mate, but don’t die on us.”

 

It was meant as a humorous statement, but Fred felt his twin’s surge of despair mirror his own at the words. Ginny’s breath caught, but she seemed to swallow back whatever emotion it had invoked. Charlie’s hand was shaking, but he seemed otherwise unaffected. Apparently he had accepted the mantle of stoic big brotherhood when Bill left for the night. Fred mentally rolled his eyes.

 

It was Percy who stared at him for a moment and then swallowed hard before he was talking, seeming utterly unable to hold back the words despite how hard he was fighting. “Any of us could have died. We almost lost Fred and George. Voldemort was after Ron and Harry and Hermione. I almost gave up my relationships with all of you! And… and Dad...”

Hermione was around the table with her arms pulling Percy in before he even finished talking. “Oh Percy, you’re here with us now. Your Dad was so proud you came back!”

 

“It was all my stupid fault. I missed so much time…” he whimpered as she gently took his glasses from his face and set them on the table. That barrier gone, Percy fully sank into her arms, accepting the comfort their wife offered. 

 

“But you’re here now,” Charlie said, his hand on his brother’s back. Of all of them, it occurred to Fred that it was Charlie who probably best understood what it was like to go away and miss out on things. There were tears rolling down his cheeks as well now. 

 

Percy was talking, a near-constant stream, “I just wanted them to be proud of me. All Mum ever talks about is us working for the Ministry so I thought… I thought if I was the one who finally did it, they would be happy with me.”

 

“They were,” Hermione insisted.

 

“I don’t think the things I did were ever enough,” Percy said, shaking his head frantically.

 

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” Ron said, finally washing down his food with some pumpkin juice, “They bought you a bloody owl instead of getting me a wand when I turned 11. I s’pose it wasn’t fair of us to take it out on you, but you’re bloody perfect. We can’t even compete!” 

 

Percy gave a sob, losing the last shreds of dignity he had tried to cling to. If Hermione hadn’t been holding him up, Fred was sure he would have curled in on himself. When Percy spoke again, his voice was weak, hollow with regret and remorse. “I didn’t mean to take anything from you. I hoped… we were close when you were little, Ron. I remember teaching you how to play chess and then getting trounced by you all the time but it was worth it because you took what I knew and did even better with it. I was so proud of you. And I wanted… I thought if I could prove how valuable my knowledge was, then the rest of you would want me around and… and I might be a real part of the family then. But the older we all got… Bill and Charlie followed their dreams and everyone but Mum was happy for them and looked up to them. My dreams just aren’t… no one looks up to me and I don’t know why the things I want aren’t good enough. I got that promotion and… I know now Dad was right. You all were. I was too young to be promoted like that no matter how hard I had worked, but I… I needed them to be proud of me. I just wanted something I did to be… something everyone would care about, that my siblings would want to talk about sometimes, like I mattered, too. I thought if this wasn’t enough, if I wasn’t good enough even with that position I had worked for, that there would never be anything about me that was worth it. So I thought I should just be with people who did think I was worth something. I wasted… I was just so wrong and I never got to have another proper conversation with Dad. I don’t know if…”

Listening to him babble had filled Fred with an unexpected wave of shame. He felt it from George as well. They had always picked on Percy. He was such an arse to them, but Fred knew his intentions hadn’t been bad … and they certainly weren’t any better back. He had never considered that Percy might actually feel like the family didn’t care about him, that he didn’t even believe he was a part of the family because of the way everyone else was treated in comparison.

 

“I know what some of that feels like, Percy,” Hermione was saying. “I love to read and to learn and I so often feel like people dislike me for being that person, for being exactly who I am. I have always envied you, if you believe it. Because even though you’re like that, too, you always had these connections with your brothers and sister. I guess, looking from the outside, it’s just so easy to see how much they love you, even when they’re being arseholes.”

 

“We’ve been-” Fred jumped in, unable to wait any longer. 

 

“Horrible to you, Percy,”

 

“But we never meant-”

 

“For you to feel like you didn’t matter,” George finished. “To us, you were the big brother we were supposed to try to be like.”

 

“Bill, too, of course, but he wasn’t here anymore,” Fred added, being careful not to look at Charlie. He had achieved a lot, too, but Mum had never considered his accomplishments good enough to be looked up to once he chose dragons over the Ministry.

 

“Our dreams are different than she wants, and even now that we’ve proven they’re successful,”

 

“Mum lets us know all the time that they’re not good enough,” Fred said.

 

“And it’s shite!” Ginny burst out. “Mum doesn’t get to pick what we’re going to do, any of us, and she shouldn’t dictate whether we are good enough or not either.”

 

“But it does sound like it, doesn’t it?” Harry spoke from the door where he had clearly been listening for a while, “Maybe you all needed to talk about it and realize how much you need to support each other since she’s not going to. Molly has been the only mother figure I ever had in my life, but it’s bloody stupid that a stranger feels more accepted by her than her own kids.”

 

They all looked at him in surprise, but with a dawning realization that he was right. Hermione smiled at her brother. “Brilliantly said, Harry.” 

 

“What the bloody hell are you sneaking up on us for?” Ron asked. He had seemed the most startled when Harry began to talk.

 

Harry grinned at him. “To give you a heart attack, of course. And to check on you all. All right here?”

 

“As good as we can be,” Ginny told him. She was watching him with an odd look, like she wanted to be near him but was slightly horrified at the same time.

 

Percy laughed humorously, “As good as we can be when our Dad’s gone and our own Mum sees us as worthless.”

 

“You want exactly what she wants you to want, Perce. Of all of us, you should never have had to still feel like you’re not good enough,” Charlie said quietly. “And don’t worry about Dad either. He was proud of all of us no matter what.”

 

The tears were slowly drying from his face, but Percy still snorted, “Not when I was such an idiot. And I never got the chance to properly talk it out with him.”

 

“Well, you’re talking it out with us. And we’re proud of you for it,” George said, his hand joining Charlie’s on Percy’s back. Within moments, they were all crowded around him, all touching much like they had in the circle during the ritual.

 

Hermione gave a contented sigh as she lay her head down on Percy’s shoulder, feeling his breathing steady. “Can we all just stay this close together all night? This feels amazing.”

 

“That actually sounds perfect, lovely,” George told her. He and Hermione were both ignoring Fred’s irritation with the idea and it made him feel very petulant. George rolled his eyes at him. “I think Freddie needs to be right up against you, though. Why don’t you two climb into the bed first and we’ll figure out everyone else around you.”

 

Hermione smiled at him as she came away from Percy and Fred felt like his whole world had just lit up like one of their fireworks. Merlin, he couldn’t wait to have her to himself. Well, and George, but he didn’t count in the ‘everyone else’ equation. 

 

“Did someone already do the transfiguration?” she asked as they headed that way.

 

“No,” Charlie looked a little sheepish. “I’m not the best at them and I didn’t think anyone would want to fall between beds in the middle of the night when my shoddy work fell apart.”

 

Everyone laughed. Hermione reached out to squeeze his hand then flourished her wand to quickly handle merging the five beds Charlie had somehow managed to squeeze into the sitting room. She crawled happily into the center as Ginny and Percy headed up the stairs to bring down enough blankets for everyone. 

 

Fred was very pleased to be the one who scooted in next, bringing himself just in front of her. He liked to spoon from the back, but he really wanted to connect by looking into her eyes while they fell asleep. He was too busy looking at her and toying with a curl next to her face to pay any attention to the debate going on at the side of the bed as the other siblings tried to determine who got to be closest and how to sleep with everyone touching her but not uncomfortable with each other. 

 

George ended up getting in bed behind Fred. Some people might have found it odd for two brothers their age to curl up together, but it actually wasn’t irregular for them at all. And right now, with the bond recharging them… it was just a relief that one of them touching her was nearly as effective as both. 

 

Ginny lay down close to Hermione’s head and claimed one of her hands. Harry, despite the odd stiffness between the two, lay down next to her, clutching her other hand. Fred heard their quiet whispers. “Everything else may feel weird, but we can still be near each other like this.” He was glad to see Ginny smile lovingly.

 

“As long as you two aren’t being weird and lovey, I’m snagging the spot here,” Ron said to Harry, laying down next to him. They were plenty far away enough that they weren’t likely to end up snuggling, though Fred imagined this wouldn’t be the first time if they ended up closer by morning. Spending all winter in a tent had to have been pretty cold on their own, not to mention his personal suspicions about Harry.

 

Charlie slid up against Hermione’s back. Hesitantly, he asked Fred, “Is there any way I could put an arm around her?” He added to her, “If that’s okay with you?”

 

Hermione nodded, looking at him over her shoulder. Fred could see Charlie’s eyes darkening and was about to protest when he felt George jab him in the side. A moment of twinspeak and Fred grudgingly agreed. It took them some maneuvering before all three were comfortable and the brothers didn’t feel weird about where their hands were. Hermione was thoroughly giggling at them before they were done negotiating.

 

Percy was the last to slide in, down by her feet. Considering the conversation they had all just had, Fred looked down with the worry that this was pushing him away again. He was relieved when Percy looked up at him and grinned in that cat that got the cream way. 

 

“Perfectly happy down here, little brother. Not everyone hates feet,” he said, wrapping a hand gently around one of Hermione’s in a way that looked almost like a caress. She looked momentarily startled before smiling down at Percy. Fred decided he probably didn’t want to know what his brother meant by that.

 

For a little bit, there were shuffles and whispering. Fred watched their girl as she was unable to keep her eyes open. He was surprised to see that Charlie went to sleep almost as fast. Ginny, Harry, and Ron talked a bit longer. Percy was staring at the ceiling contemplatively. 

 

“Freddie, do you realize how lucky we are?” George whispered, his voice sleepy. 

 

Staring at Hermione, that was very easy to answer. “The luckiest, twin-o-mine.”

 

“Try not to push her too fast, Fred. I know you’ve been interested for a long time, but-”

 

“I can wait as long as she needs. But I don’t have to be happy about it,” Fred grumbled. 

 

He could hear the smile in George’s voice when he said, “Just be happy about having her in our life, and that we’re still here together.”

 

Fred felt how deeply George meant that. Some moments he almost felt guilty that he didn’t know the same fear and despair that his twin had gone through thinking he was going to die. It was the first major thing one of them had ever been through without the other. 

 

They had always known there would come a point someday when their lives would split - when they would each have their own wife and home and kids. Fred had never liked to think about it, never wanted that future of being separated from his twin, no matter how much he had wanted the wife and kids bit. There were lots of things about their situation now that were going to be difficult. He wasn’t really sure what their future was going to look like, but knowing he didn’t have to lose George and still got to be with Hermione made it all worthwhile.

 

Snuggling into his twin and their wife, Fred soon drifted off as well, surrounded by his brothers and sister and feeling more content than he could ever remember being.

Chapter 6

Notes:

This chapter is a little different... some things that need to happen, but not quite as much sibling interaction. I hope you don't all hate it, or that you'll stick with me even if it's not quite your cup of tea. I know I *could* just focus on the relationships and pretend the rest of the wizarding world doesn't exist, but... I don't wanna.

It seems like it's taking me about two weeks between posts, though I really do hope to get the next one out sooner. Parts of it are already written as I was trying to cram a lot more into this chapter than would reasonably fit.

My alphabets, Lady Winterlight and Omnenomnom, have been a huge help. I can never thank them enough.

I still don't own Harry Potter or make any profit from this.

George was nervous as they walked through the halls of St. Mungos. There had been lots of whispering and pointing everywhere they had been so far this morning. Most people were going out of their way to avoid them, though, so at least they weren’t having to argue with anyone or try to explain themselves. 

 

Fred had gotten tired of it before they even left The Leaky and bought a Daily Prophet from the stand so that they at least knew what it said. Surprisingly, the reporters had repeated Fred and George’s statement almost word for word. Apparently this was so juicy they didn’t even need to add extra spin to it. Still, Rita Skeeter had been notably silent this paper, which didn’t bode well.

 

As they approached Mum’s room, Bill fell into step next to them. Fleur was behind him, looking distressed. “Beel,” she said, catching his hand, “I theenk I should stay out ‘ere, at least at first?”

 

“Why, love?” he asked. 

 

Fleur gave him the look. “Beel, you know ‘ow she feels about me on zee best days. She needs to see the twins today, and she may need you. I weel wait in case you need me.”

 

He was about to protest, so George spoke up, “That really might be the best idea.”

 

The look Bill shot him wasn’t friendly, but Fleur smiled. Bill still had bags under his eyes and was pale, but at least he didn’t look half dead anymore. He was in a frightful mood, though. George wondered how much he was suffering from needing Hermione. It was no one’s fault but his own, but George still couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. They had only parted ways with her half an hour ago as she left with Harry and Ron for a meeting with Kingsley, and George was already longing for her to at least be in the room. 

 

Sighing, he exchanged a look with Fred and then followed his twin inside. Mum was sitting up in bed with a breakfast tray. She dropped her toast as they walked in, beckoning them with open arms. “My twins!”

 

George rushed forward for her crushing hug. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure if she would stay in such a good mood but… she was his Mum. He wanted her hug. 

 

“Hello, Mum,” Fred said from behind him, hands in his pockets. George could feel his resistance to acting like things were normal. It always seemed harder for Fred somehow. He was just a little angrier with her than George could manage to stay.

 

“Well?” she asked, looking George up and down before moving him to the side and motioning Fred into her arms. He smiled, but George knew it wasn’t real. When he bent to let her hug him, it was reluctant.

 

Mum thankfully didn’t notice. “You both look fine,” she said, relief clear in her voice. 

 

“We are, Mum,” George said, “Thanks to Bill and everyone.” He gestured back to their oldest brother. He wasn’t sure if Mum hadn’t seen him or if she was purposefully snubbing him.

 

Purposeful. Her lips thinned and she didn’t even glance his way. George sighed to himself as he felt Fred growing angrier and saw out of the corner of his eye that Bill sank into a chair with his head in his hands. 

 

“Fred was almost dead, Mum. And the possibility of me living was so slim. Hell, if I had lived without Freddie, I wouldn’t have thanked them.”

 

“Language!” she snapped, dropping into her normal Mum tone with practiced ease. She sniffed, her face going red with her thoughts. “Bill is responsible for every one of you being in danger of dying. He could have killed all my babies.”

 

“Bill was doing what he could to save us!” Fred snapped back. “And it worked.”

 

George tried to tone things down. “You know Bill would never purposefully hurt any of us. He did everything right, Mum.”

 

“No he most certainly did not!” she screamed angrily. There was worry in her tone when she demanded, “What kind of darkness are you all bound to now to have you both here?”

 

“You don’t believe that rubbish Skeeter was saying, do you? Surely you’ve learned better by now!” Fred cried, aghast.

 

“I know magic like that comes at a price and I want to know what it was!” Mum huffed at them. 

 

George felt Fred about to go off. Don’t! he shouted at him in twinspeak. Their eyes met for a moment and Fred clamped his mouth shut, jaw twitching. We don’t want her knowing about Hermione. 

 

“Right now you just need to worry about getting better, Mum,” George told her calmly. 

 

“Don’t you dare talk to me like I’m some kind of invalid,” Mum hissed. “What did you do?” 

 

George sighed, “Mum, we love you, but this is hard for us, too. We need to talk about Dad.” If that didn’t distract her, nothing would.

 

Anger and grief warred on Molly’s face for several moments before her expression crumbled and she melted into tears. “My Arthur! What will I do without him?” She threw herself into George’s arms as she sobbed. “And if I had lost the two of you as well…”

 

“But you didn’t, Mum. We’re here - all your babies made it.”

 

“But your father… he’s… he’s gone. How could he leave me behind?” she cried. After a few minutes of heartbroken sobs, she managed, “Did you know we met when I was just 11?”

 

Of course they had all heard the stories more times than they could count, but George encouraged her to go on. Mum spoke for what felt like forever. When she ran out of stories, the three brothers - at some point she had thankfully forgotten her anger at Bill - reminded her of good family moments with their Dad. At some point, Fleur brought in some lunch for all of them and stayed next to Bill, letting him lean on her as the tears streamed down his cheeks. They were all crying as they shared.

 

George finally decided it might be safe to switch subjects, though he would ease into it. The story of Arthur asking Fabian and Gideon for her hand before even daring to approach her father had always been a favorite of Mum’s. Indeed, she told it with relish when he mentioned it.

 

“Mum, did Fabian and Gideon ever have any relationships?” Fred asked, taking the opportunity George had set up.

 

“What does that matter when they d...died, too?” she wept, the sound moving toward more of a wail.

 

“I just thought there might be fun stories about them, too. You know, since they were magically bonded twins like Georgie and I.”

 

Mum looked at Fred with a faraway look in her eyes. “They did. It had taken them a while - a long while - Mum and Dad had given up on them. But they were so happy when they found her.”

 

“They found… her?” George asked.

 

“Just one witch for them both?” Fred added.

 

“Yes. We were so proud. A triad in the family,” Molly said, smiling. 

 

“Did the three of them have to be together all the time?” George asked, eager for information.

 

His Mum laughed. “Of course not. Once their bond was sealed, they were very attached, but they could be apart like in any other relationship.”

 

“But until it was sealed…” Fred’s question hung in the air. It was obvious that Mum didn’t want to answer it.

 

“Well,” she finally huffed, “That Marlene McKinnon was always a hussy. I don’t think they had to wait very long before it was sealed.”

 

Fred snickered and she gave him the look. He didn’t respond with the immediate capitulation she was looking for and she began to glare at him.

 

George cut in before they could escalate the situation. “So you said it was an honor to have a triad in the family? I’ve never met a triad.”

 

“You don’t see them often anymore as the balance is hard to get right in the beginning. But triads aren’t all that uncommon with twins, especially in the Prewett family.”

 

“Really?” the twins asked together, listening avidly.

 

“Absolutely. It’s part of our family mag… OH!” Molly narrowed her eyes at them. “Who is she?”

 

“Who is who?” George asked quickly. 

 

“What are you talking about, Mum?” Fred added. 

 

“I’ve spent my entire life around trickster twins and if you think I’m not smart enough to see through you, you’ve got another thing coming, boys,” Mum said, rolling her eyes at the very idea, “So who is she?”

 

We’re going to have to tell her, he heard from Fred. George started to shake his head no when Bill stepped in. 

 

“Mum, you’re right. It was Prewett family magic that we used to create a triad with the twins,” he said calmly. George wanted to strangle him at that moment, but he had known it would have to come out sometime. 

 

“The twins and who? Angelina? Katie?” Mum was starting to sound excited now. “I finally have a daughter-in-law!”

 

George saw Bill go rigid. Fleur reached her hand out and caught his arm, pulling him back toward her and whispering in his ear. The look on her face was hurt and angry, but determined. She was going to do what she could to keep Bill from losing his temper. Fred was still as well, and a tear leaked down his cheek. While their feelings for Hermione were strong, it was going to be a while before he really accepted and dealt with Angelina’s death. He flicked a small bug off his shoulder as he brought his hands up to wipe his eyes.

 

The best thing George could do right now was distract everyone with whatever drama might come of admitting who their wife was. “It’s Hermione, Mum.”

 

“Hermione?” she questioned. He nodded and watched her face. There was no telling how she would react.

 

“Yes,” Fred replied. The look in his eyes said she better be happy for them.

 

“But I thought… She belongs to Ronnie,” Mum stated, though her voice was more questioning than she probably meant it to sound.

 

“She doesn’t-” George began.

 

“ belong to anyone,” Fred finished.

 

“How could you do that to your little brother?” Mum asked, ignoring their assertion. 

 

“They didn’t do it to him, Mum. That’s where the Weasley magic came in,” Bill said smoothly. “Ron willingly sacrificed his feelings for her so that they could bond with her and heal.” It wasn’t a lie, just nothing like the whole truth.

 

“I don’t understand why you had to choose her when you could have picked your own girl and let Ronnie be happy,” she argued, glaring at the twins.

 

“Angelina died, Mum,” George said quietly. “And Katie blamed us for it, so she wasn’t an option either. Hermione volunteered to keep us alive.”

 

“Of course she did. She’s always wanted to get her hands on two wizards. This is just like her fourth year. I can’t believe you two fell for that,” she complained angrily. 

 

Bill’s jaw looked like it was going to snap if he clenched it any harder. “They were unconscious, Mum.”

 

“So you just chose their bonded wife for them?” she asked incredulously. “I can’t believe your judgment and behavior could be this bad, William Weasley.”

 

There was absolute silence in the room for several long moments before George said, “We thought you might be glad we’re not dead.”

 

Mum sputtered for a moment before saying, “Of course, my boys. I am so glad you’re both still here.” She reached a hand out to each of them. “And I… thank you, Bill, for keeping them alive, however it had to happen.” She still looked disgruntled, but that was a huge step up from where she had started this morning. 

 

“You should be more than thankful! You should be proud of Beel for stepping into his role as ‘ead of the Family and making it ‘appen,” Fleur added, her anger finally overriding her desire to help Bill manage this calmly. 

 

“I’m always proud of him,” she bristled at Fleur’s words. “But Head of the Family? Oh, I don’t think so, young man. I’ll take the signet ring.” Mum held her hand out, clearly expecting to be obeyed. 

 

“It doesn’t work like that and you know it. I’m Head of both families now, Mum. I could have claimed the Prewett title a few years ago when Uncle Ignatius passed. I had to now or the Legacies wouldn’t have helped us,” Bill said. 

 

“Absolutely not!” she cried, red creeping up her face. “Aunt Muriel should be Head of House Prewett and I am obviously the Head of ours.”

 

It seemed Bill’s temper was at breaking point. “No you bloody well are not! Just because Dad let you run everything doesn’t mean you’re actually the one in charge of the families. Both the Prewett and Weasley families are patriarchal. Perhaps that should and will change moving forward, but for this generation, I have to step up and do the job Dad left me mostly unprepared for. Thank Merlin I have the fucking goblins to help me stumble through it!”

 

“How dare you insinuate that your father was anything but good to you?” Mum screamed at her eldest son. 

 

“He didn’t say Dad wasn’t good to him. He was good to all of us!” Fred shouted in his brother’s defense. “He said Dad didn’t prepare him to take over.”

 

“He couldn’t have prepared me for something he barely did himself,” Bill added, his tone daring her to claim otherwise. 

 

“Your Dad was the sweetest, fairest, most helpful-“

 

“He was all those things, Mum,” George interceded, “but no one is perfect and being Head of House Weasley wasn’t something that interested him. As he told us years ago, it never should have fallen to him. His brothers should have lived and it never would have come down to the youngest.”

 

Mum had dissolved into tears, not even really listening. “He’s gone! My Arthur!” 

 

The three brothers looked at each other. George sighed and went to hold her again while she fell apart. Bill and Fred were muttering to each other. George caught the word funeral a couple of times and wished he could be anywhere else. It was a conversation that had to happen, but he didn’t want to be present for it. 

 

He wanted to be back at home with Hermione. Fred was feeling it, too. George wasn’t sure, but it seemed like his magic was a little weaker than normal. He just wanted them to get done with whatever talks had to happen and leave, hoping Hermione would be done and home when they arrived. 

 

Fred nodded at him and began, “Mum, I know this is hard, but we need to talk about the arrangements for Dad. We’ll need to have his funeral once you get out of the hospital.”

 

She wailed louder. Bill sighed and said, “I can just plan everything if you prefer. Kingsley wants the funeral to be a Ministry Event. They’ll pay for everything. He would be honored as a war hero.”

 

“He should be,” she sniffled. “That’s what he is. He earned it!”

 

“Yes, he did,” George said quietly. 

 

“So is there anything special you want to happen there?” Bill asked. 

 

“Our song,” Mum finally sobbed after a long pause. “‘You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me’ Celestina Warbeck. Your Dad and I danced to it all the time when we were younger.”

 

“I remember,” Bill said softly. George didn’t remember, and he knew Fred didn’t either. In their lifetime, there hadn’t been much time for his parents to dance. Maybe once they had gone off to Hogwarts, but never in front of them.

 

A nurse bustled in. “Mrs. Weasley! It’s so good to see you doing better,” she said, giving a sympathetic eye around the room at all the wet cheeks. “I think it’s time we let your Mum sleep, boys. She’s healing well, but her progress does require some extra rest.”

 

George and Fred hugged her together for their goodbye. Bill then headed over to drop a kiss on the top of her head. Mum pulled back from him as he approached, but grudgingly leaned forward and let him when he didn’t back down. She noticeably did not pull him in for a hug, though, and wouldn’t look at him.

 

From his posture, George could see how crushed their oldest brother was. He hoped when they got home, that Hermione would be there and that Bill would apologize to her instead of making things worse. Being snuggled between her and Fleur would probably do him a world of good. After he and Freddie had their turn, of course.

 

***************************

 

“I’m not sure it was a good idea to agree to this meeting so soon,” Harry said nervously to the other two. 

 

The three of them were sitting in a fancy waiting room just outside the office of the Minister of Magic. Ron looked as nervous as he did, but Hermione seemed unperturbed. She had a hand on Ron’s arm, Harry noticed, and it seemed to be steadying her. It was going to take him some time to accept that the two were no longer interested in each other, but still needed some casual touches like that. 

 

Then again, he was having to get used to the idea that he only wanted friendly touches with Ginny, too. He fervently hoped that there was time for Bill to look into their bonding troubles soon. He ignored the little voice in the back of his head that said this might not be so bad as long as they could remain close friends. 

 

“I’ll be glad to have it over with, I think,” Hermione said quietly.

 

“Whatever it is,” Ron added. “Don’t see why they can’t just leave us alone. You’ve done more than enough already, Harry.”

 

“ We’ ve done enough. Don’t discount yourself, Ronald.” Hermione firmly stated.

 

Harry was glad Hermione was reminding Ron that he was involved, too. The last thing he needed was for Ron to go through a round of the jealousy he sometimes harbored. Harry sighed, thinking how unbelievably true it was that they had done enough. But he also knew Kingsley would want them to help the Ministry somehow. He was honestly surprised the man had let them spend the last few days with their family before calling them to this meeting. 

 

Hermione continued, “Besides, I have a plan. I think it will unfold naturally, but if not, just follow my lead.”

 

Percy suddenly appeared through the door to the Minister’s office. They were all surprised to see him. He had been up and gone when they all woke that morning and no one really knew where it was he had to be. 

 

“Perce?” Ron asked. “I thought you quit the Ministry.”

 

“Well, the Minister who took my resignation wasn’t around after to tell anyone about it. And Kingsley rather insisted. I don’t know if I’ll stay long term,” he said with a disdainful sniff, “but the mess the Ministry’s in right now, I’m one of the few high-ranking officials who isn’t either dead or incarcerated. It’s just desperation on Kingsley’s part, a little piece of continuity between Ministry Administrations.”

 

Hermione stood and walked over to him, her hand brushing along his arm as they both leaned into each other. It wasn’t enough to be a hug, but far more familiar and touchy than Percy usually was with people. Merlin, this whole situation was weird. Harry had so many people to give the big brother talk to.

 

Percy cleared his throat after the moment of connection, his eyes still lingering on Hermione. “Kingsley is ready for the three of you,” he announced. More quietly he added, “It’s not really my business, but I strongly recommend putting him off on a firm answer for as long as you can. Just tell him you’ll think about it and let him stew on the possibility that you won’t do it.”

 

With that, he pompously led them into Kingsley’s office with every bit of the condescending airs toward them that he had indulged in for the last couple of years. Could Follow-All-the-Rules Percy be playing the political games now?

 

Harry was surprised by the office itself. It was a very plain room, with no real decorations. There were half unpacked boxes lining one wall, so maybe there just hadn’t been time yet. Percy paused just inside the room to announce the three of them. Kingsley rose from his desk and headed over to shake Harry’s hand. 

 

He might have moved on down the line, but Ron practically shouted, “Is that tray of biscuits for us?” and rushed right past the Minister. 

 

Hermione and Percy shared a long-suffering eye roll before he left and she strolled past Kingsley to sit in one of the chairs he had clearly set up for that purpose. The Minister looked momentarily put out before waving Harry toward the chairs as well. He settled into one and then waited. He wasn’t going to volunteer anything until Kingsley let them know precisely what this was about.

 

The man nervously cleared his throat. “I’m sure I mentioned this right after the battle, but I’m glad to see that the three of you made it through your adventures and-”

 

“I’m sure you mean that you’re glad we didn’t die pursuing Dumbledore’s complete lack of instructions except to refrain from getting any help from the people he should have left the task to in the first place,” Hermione said, daring him to disagree.

 

“Yes,” Kingsley agreed, “That is perhaps a better way to put it.” The way his mouth twisted told Harry how the man felt about Hermione’s thoughts on Dumbledore even if there was absolutely no way to dispute it. Recovering himself, Kingsley soldiered on, “I’m glad you are all alive, and your family as well. I know that a lot has rested on your young shoulders - Harry especially, but Ron and Hermione, as the friends he leaned on, the two of you carried weight, too.”

 

“They often shouldered more,” Harry told him. “They had to carry the weight of me plus everything the world expected of me.” Hermione reached over and squeezed his hand. 

 

Kingsley watched them, a calculating expression on his face. “Is there a romance between any of you that I should know about?”

 

“Why should you know about any of our personal lives?” Harry asked.

 

Sighing, he started the real pitch he had them there for, “Harry, because we’ve known each other for a while and I consider you a friend, I’ll just cut through the political gaming and tell you what I need. The three of you, the Golden Trio as the papers labeled you while you were tending to your family in the hospital, are set to be some of the most influential players in our world right now. The Ministry needs you. I need you to help me help our world.”

 

“Why would we believe the Ministry will help our world?” Ron scoffed. 

 

Harry nodded in agreement. Hermione pulled out a notebook and muggle pen, then looked to Kingsley, pen poised. The Minister looked taken aback.

 

“It’s our job to do that. I know you haven’t had the most positive interactions with the Ministry in the past-”

 

All three of them snorted at that. Hermione spoke up. “That’s an understatement Minister Shacklebolt, but I need to know what your plan is to change the wizarding world for the better.”

 

“Well… I… There are a lot of things. It will be a complicated process. But having the three of you as spokesmen to help the people see that we can be trusted will be beneficial for everyone.”

 

“How is it beneficial for us?” Ron asked, going for another biscuit.

 

“A more stable wizarding world will benefit us all-”

 

“Of course, but there are many ways to accomplish that outside of the Ministry as well,” Hermione said with a smile. “What are you offering us to make working with the Ministry our best choice?”

 

“Surely you realize this would be for the greater good…” Kingsley trailed off as Harry stood, so angry he was shaking. 

 

“I have spent my entire life on a suicide mission for the greater good. I literally died for it and am here through the power of magic or love or the Hallows or... I’m still not really sure.” He was panting from the strain of not actually yelling at the Minister of Magic. “I’m done with the greater good. It can be someone else’s turn to sacrifice for it. Maybe a grown-up so I and the rest of my generation can use the last couple of years of our teens to attempt some brief time of trying to be kids.”

 

“Come here and sit, Harry,” Hermione said, pulling his hand to come back to the chairs. “Have some tea.” She handed him a cup of it, made just like he liked it. 

 

Turning to Kingsley, she continued, “You need to understand that, though we are still very young, the boys and I have been through things you have no knowledge of. We do not and likely will not ever respond as normal teenagers. We won’t be controlled by anyone else, and we aren’t interested in doing favors for a government that has mistreated us at every stage of our magical lives.”

 

“But-” Kingsley began before he was met with a glare from Hermione. 

 

“We can be bargained with, but it will start with you meeting some requirements for us. First and foremost, I need to see a written plan from your office that details the improvements you are setting out to make and the steps you will take to get there. If you want us to endorse the Ministry’s plans, we insist on knowing what they are. It will only help you, too, since this will allow us to talk about such things if we are asked.”

 

“We haven’t formalized-”

 

“Then see to it that you do before our next meeting,” Hermione said, channeling her best Professor McGonagall.

 

“Next meeting?” Kingsley asked faintly.

 

“Yes,” Harry said now. “When you provide us with your documented plans for the future of the Ministry, we will have a list of the things we wish in return.”

 

Flabbergasted, it took Kingsley a moment to respond. “Can you give me some indication of what those will be?” Trying to gather the pride and certainty he had begun the meeting with, he added, “I need to know if this will be worth a second meeting for the Ministry.”

 

“We must consult with some trusted advisors on what the best course of action would be - what demands might be reasonable and which would be laughed out of the building,” Hermione said reasonably. “Rest assured, however, that we can lend our support to other organizations that look on the Ministry less favorably if you can’t grant us the tools we need to help better our world.”

 

Kingsley blinked at them as Harry rose, recognizing Hermione’s indication that it was time for them to go. He had to tap Ron with his elbow, but they were soon flanking her out of the room. Percy raised an eyebrow at her as they swept through the outer waiting area. She turned just before they reached the door. 

 

“Do owl us when the Minister is ready for our next meeting.” Hermione winked at him just as they headed out the door and into the hustle and bustle of the Ministry.

*****************************

“What was that?” Ron asked as they walked out of the floo into The Leaky Cauldron.

 

The three of them waved to Tom as they found a seat. The Leaky was busy at this hour, but Ron knew he would get to them as soon as he could. They were basically celebrities now. Every head in the old pub was turned their way. 

 

“I don’t know that this is the best place to discuss it,” Hermione said. 

 

Harry shook his head. “It’s not, but humor us anyway - just the bare bones version.”

 

She sighed, but agreed. “After we order.” 

 

Ron was happy to launch into a discussion of how soon Quidditch might resume now that Voldemort was gone. He was not happy to be interrupted by a wizard none of them recognized but who was undoubtedly a pureblood. 

 

The man was dressed in expensive day robes and a fancy hat all in a shade of midnight blue. He had glasses and stared down at his nose from above them, reminding Ron of Percy. “I never held with any of that blood traitor nonsense, but I see now the purists were right about you Weasleys. It disgusts me that you and your nasty siblings have so blatantly rubbed our most sacred secrets in the faces of all of wizarding society!”

 

“I don’t see why it should matter to you what we do with our own Legacies,” Ron replied. 

 

“Are you so ignorant that you don’t understand the very existence of Family Legacies is not to be spoken of? That those belong solely to the most fit magical families and outsiders shouldn’t know about them?” the man hissed, several nearby witches and wizards nodding along with his words while others looked furious.

 

“So what you’re really saying is that the purebloods didn’t want muggleborns, and maybe even half-bloods in some cases, to know that magic like this exists?” Hermione queried, looking completely innocent.

 

The man reared back from them before thinning his lips and nodding. “I wouldn’t say it that way, but I suppose that is what it comes down to. Not everyone has the appropriate cultural contexts to handle the older magics like these.”

 

Harry was standing, the anger on his face apparent. “I am not a muggleborn, but I don’t have the ‘appropriate cultural contexts’ either. I assure you that both I and especially Hermione are completely capable of handling any magic you can find.”

 

“Ask Voldemort if you don’t believe him,” Ron quipped.

 

“Oh wait, you can’t, because Harry killed him,” Hermione noted. “Without any more cultural context than a muggleborn.”

 

The man took a step back. There was murmuring all over the pub, but it was hard to tell which side the people were more open to. Not that it mattered. Ron was very much of the opinion that the entire wizarding world needed to get over themselves. They owed the three of them quite a lot and it was time they acknowledged it.

 

“Be that as it may,” the pureblood said, addressing Ron once more, “I am appalled that your brothers would openly tell people that you used your Legacies.”

 

“Better that than you lot believing Skeeter’s rubbish about the Dark Arts. How anyone believes a word that nutter says, I don’t know, but since they do, we had to explain ourselves,” Ron defended. He was getting more furious by the moment.

 

Hermione put a hand on his arm to calm him. To the man, she said, “Your opinions are noted and will be given all the consideration they deserve.” Her tone made it absolutely clear how little that was. “Leave us,” she commanded. 

 

The man stared at the diminutive muggleborn witch for a moment before turning tail and making his way hastily out of the pub. People quickly looked away and began murmuring amongst themselves. 

 

Tom returned with their orders at that moment, giving them the opportunity to thank him graciously before Hermione huffed and chanted muffliato mundanarum circumdatos . 

 

Ron blinked. “What’s that, Mione?”

 

“I’ve tweaked Snape’s spell a bit. Regular room sounds are great when you don’t want someone listening through walls or it doesn’t matter if the people listening know they’re being excluded from the real conversation. This adaptation is for situations like this. Anyone listening in will hear us discussing arithmancy or debating cauldron thickness or something else so boring they’ll tune us out.”

 

“Brilliant!” Ron said with a grin. He would never stop being impressed by that girl, but it was such a relief to know that he didn’t need to impress her.

 

“So are you ready to tell us about our plans?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. 

 

“As long as you both promise to ask questions only when your mouths are empty,” she said primly. Ron rolled his eyes. Just like Mione to worry about that kind of crap when there was important stuff going on. 

 

When they had both nodded, Hermione began, “Learning about Family Legacies made me realize that there are huge parts of wizarding culture that muggleborns and muggle-raised half-bloods aren’t even aware of, much less invited to take part in.”

 

Ron was shaking his head. “How could they be invited in without joining a family? You can’t expect the purebloods to just share their Legacies. Even my family would balk at that.”

 

“I’m not saying they need to make their Legacies public. It makes sense that ancient families would hand down their own particular spells and potions and things, and they have a right to keep it or to patent it if they did decide to release it into the world. Some of them would only work with a family’s particular magical talents anyway,” Hermione agreed. “But there are whole types of magic that aren’t being taught and are only accessible to people who have grown up with magic. Like the ritual magic we performed to save the twins.”

 

“Well rituals aren’t all that common for most things,” Ron said.

 

Harry reacted, “Most things? Are there rituals that are common?” 

 

Ron looked at the two of them for a moment, then scratched his head. “Well, yeah. There are some. Wedding bonds, obviously. Blessings for new babies and houses and stuff. And um…” He paused and felt himself blushing to the roots of his hair. “Definitely fertility rituals.”

 

“If I didn’t marry into a family that could tell me about these things, how would I know that there are rituals that could help me increase my fertility or make my home more positive or whatever blessing rituals are supposed to do?” Hermione asked. 

 

“Well, I-“ Ron began, uncertain how he even meant to finish before Harry interrupted. 

 

“You’re saying these things need to be taught,” Harry realized.

 

Hermione was visibly pleased he had followed where she was leading. “Yes! But not just these things specifically. We need an entire educational overhaul. There are so many things Hogwarts isn’t teaching. And frankly, some of the teachers are abysmal at teaching what subjects there are.”

 

Ron nodded vigorously, realizing that Harry was as well. Hogwarts was going to need a lot of things considering how much damage was done during the battle. And so many new teachers. It might be a perfect time for the kinds of changes Hermione was suggesting, but… “I get the need, but I don’t see how we’re going to make it happen.”

 

“It won’t be easy, or as fast as I would like,” Hermione admitted. “In an ideal world, we would tell Kingsley and Professor McGonagall how it needs to be and they would just do it.”

 

“But there will be the Board of Governors to deal with,” Harry said.

 

“Right, but that’s where my plan comes in,” Hermione said, settling into full-on lecture mode. “First, we will demand some kind of class that teaches wizarding culture. That needs to be immediate even though there will be many changes to come later.”

 

“How-” Ron began, around a mouthful of steak pie.

 

Hermione glared, “You promised!” 

 

Ron rolled his eyes and looked to Harry for back-up. Traitor. He was staring at his food like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

 

“The long-term plan won’t actually involve us personally,” Hermione continued, “ but it is going to require two major things to begin as soon as possible. I don’t know that the Ministry would be able to help me with the first, though I will talk to Percy about it. It’s possible that-”

 

“What is it, Mione?” Ron asked impatiently. She could ramble forever if they let her go on to possibilities. He knew she still wanted to stop by Gringotts before going home, and Ron didn’t fancy spending the entire day in Diagon Alley.

 

Hermione huffed, but refocused. “I will be starting a muggleborn organization.”

 

“Like a club?” Ron asked, confused.

 

“Like a… political coalition. With multiple purposes. Adult education for muggleborns could come through this organization. A liaison from the coalition could accompany the educational representative who meets with young muggleborns, or at least provide a pamphlet and owling information. They could provide resources to purebloods needing to interact with the muggle world. But most importantly, they will have a certain number of seats on the Wizengamot.”

 

“What? You’ve lost the plot, woman!” Ron cried.

 

“I hate to agree with him, but I think that’s beyond Kingsley’s ability to promise. The Wizengamot itself would have to vote in something like that,” Harry said slowly, thinking it out.

 

Ron rushed in, “And that would never happen - bunch of old tossers in there.”

 

He was surprised to see that Hermione seemed pleased by their assessments. “Which is why we have to change the people sitting on the Wizengamot,” she said with a happy smile.

 

Both boys gaped at her. 

 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. We have a good head start already thanks to the wars. For instance, Harry, you’re Lord Potter and can also claim the Lordship of House Black through Sirius.”

 

“I’m a Lord?” Harry sputtered.

 

“Multiple Lordships?” Ron marveled. 

 

“What about Malfoy?” Harry questioned.

 

“Well, I don’t know quite what will happen with House Malfoy, but I think we can push for something to keep them and the other Death Eaters out at this point.”

 

“I meant,” Harry said, exasperated, “that wouldn’t House Black go to Malfoy since he’s the last of the line?”

 

“Perhaps, but I think with your inheritance, and Malfoy currently sitting in Azkaban awaiting trial, you would have a good argument to seize the family seat.”

 

“How can I control more than one seat?” Harry asked.

 

“We’ll need to discuss those details with someone more knowledgeable about the way the Wizengamot works, but I know it’s done. You can assign proxies to other House seats, or you might be able to just have your vote count multiple times. I’m not sure, but I am absolutely certain that we can - and will - make it happen.”

 

“Okay, so that’s two seats on the Wizengamot,” Ron pointed out. “I don’t think that’s quite enough to bring in a contingent of muggleborns, Mione.”

 

“Of course not, but those aren’t the only ones we can count on. We know already that Lady Longbottom typically votes in a way we would want. And if she should decide to step down, it would go to Neville. House Bones, Susan is literally the only person left. Many of the old Houses have died out or could be ruled out due to their status as Death Eaters. Meanwhile Ron,” Here she dropped her voice even with the muffliato in place, “ our family gets both House Prewett and House Weasley.”

 

“House Weasley got kicked out years ago,” Ron reminded her.

 

“Which is why one of our non-negotiable demands will be to have the House reinstated into the Nobility due to your sacrifices during the war, which will include the seat on the Wizengamot.”

 

Ron couldn’t say a thing. She was absolutely right that they had earned their family place in wizarding society back. That would mean so much for him - for all of them. And they deserved it! They shouldn’t even have to demand such a thing. It should be obvious.

 

“We’ll need to compile a list,” Hermione added, “of other families that should be elevated because of noble deeds they did during the war.”

 

Ron’s brow furrowed. “I thought you didn’t approve of all that medieval crap - noble deeds and all that.”

 

“I don’t, but this is the way things work right now. To make the changes wizarding society needs, we have to play by the current rules,” Hermione stated. “I don’t like it, but that’s how it is.” 

 

“This is going to take a while,” Harry noted.

 

“Why can’t we just polyjuice into the current Chief Warlock and declare it all within an hour?” Ron asked mournfully.

 

“Because there isn’t one right now,” Hermione smirked. “Voldemort appointed Umbridge for a time, but she’s sitting in a cell right now, thankfully.”

 

They digested this information for a few minutes. Then Harry sighed as he tried not to grin, “Are you sure we can’t just sneak in under the cloak and steal all the power somehow?”

 

“Oh but that’s exactly what we’re doing. Just… slowly and carefully this time.”

Notes:

I solemnly swear there will be some light smut in the next chapter. For those of you who read me often, you know holding off this long has been painful for me! lol I tried really hard to work it into this chapter, but too many other things had to happen first.

Please let me know how you feel about the developments in this chapter. The main focus is still going to be on relationships and their family magics, but the wizarding world isn't just going to leave them alone either.

Chapter 7

Notes:

Don't get used to new updates this quickly - especially of this size - but I had some extra days off and was just dying to write this chapter! I anticipate the next one will be closer to the 2 week mark again, but we'll see.

Thank you all so much for the amazing comments. I really appreciate them and they motivate me to work on this more and faster! I'm so glad to hear that you're all excited about an outside plot as well as all the relationship stuff.

My alphabet Lady Winterlight has been wonderful and quick both with this specific chapter and talking through some fun ideas for future chapters.

I still don't own Harry Potter.

Bill couldn’t believe them! He had barely managed to waylay the famous trio and drag them the back way into his office before the goblins noticed them.

 

“Do you three have a death wish?” he asked, pacing back and forth across the small room peevishly. He hated the way he couldn’t collect himself, couldn’t stop moving since this feeling of incompletion had descended on him the day before.

 

“Most people would say that’s a stupid question,” his youngest brother quipped with a grin.

 

“This is serious ,” Bill tried not to growl. 

 

Hermione huffed. “Tell us what is so serious, then.” The look she was giving him was frosty and he felt his heart lurch sadly in response.

 

“You broke in and stole a bloody dragon not even a month ago!” he shouted, exasperated. “The Horde wants all three of you dead.”

 

“Even though it was part of taking down Voldemort?” Harry asked, surprise written on his face.

 

Bill ran a hand down his face. “Perhaps they only want you to spend the rest of your natural life paying for your crimes instead of outright death, in deference to what you’ve done for us all.” Both of the boys snickered. “The point ,” he went on, “is that coming into Gringotts is very dangerous and I don’t want you to die.”

 

“Thank you for looking out for us,” Hermione told him stiffly. “I hadn’t considered that.” She looked very displeased.

 

“What’s so bloody important that you needed to come to the bank? Maybe I can do it for you without losing my job.”

 

“Oh. Harry needs to claim his Lordship and estates,” Hermione explained.

 

Well shite. That wasn’t going to be possible without an in person visit. Bill thought hard, but he couldn’t figure out any other way. The door opened suddenly and he stiffened, his mind spinning with ways to protect the kids, when Fleur walked in and he slumped, relieved, against his desk.

 

Her eyes darted around the room, looking both pleased and alarmed at its occupants. She rushed to hug Hermione. “Eet ees good to see you, but what are you doing ‘ere?” she asked.

 

“They had banking business they thought they could do,” Bill growled. 

 

“Beel,” she admonished warningly.

 

“I almost didn’t catch them in time!” he said, the panic he had felt the moment he saw them heading for the door shooting through him again.

 

Fleur paled. He knew she realized the danger. It was a miracle the two of them still had their jobs. The Horde had considered taking the whole thing out on them. It had taken some very fast talking and a lot of negotiating for them to come out okay. If being basically owned by the Horde for the rest of their lives could be considered okay.

 

“What could be so important?” Her eyes were worried as she looked the three over, as if she needed to confirm they were all in one piece.

 

Hermione explained again and Fleur looked contemplative. “‘Arry, I think I ‘ave an idea that could work. Can we discuss tonight or tomorrow?”

 

“Sure,” he said. Bill had the impression this hadn’t actually been his idea in the first place.

 

“Now,” his wife - first wife he reluctantly qualified - said. “I need ‘Arry and Ron to go play in zee stores while we talk to ‘Ermione.”

 

Harry bristled. “What do you need to say that we can’t be here for?”

 

“Relationship shite that we don’t want to hear or see!” Ron said with an eye roll, dragging Harry toward the door.

 

“Just be careful, for the love of Merlin,” Bill insisted, “Stay away from any goblins you might see.”

 

“Will do,” Ron assured him with a cheery wave as he and Harry left.

 

Bill took longer than was necessary to turn back toward the two women in the room, keeping his head down as he did. He knew what was expected of him here. And he knew he needed to apologize. He just didn’t want to.

 

He knew he actually needed her. In the privacy of his mind, he could admit that he desperately wanted her, too. But the mere idea of admitting that out loud was terrifying. How would Fleur react? He couldn’t lose her. Shocking himself, he realized with a shudder that he couldn’t stand to lose either of them. 

 

As he finally looked up at them, he was surprised to see them hugging and talking softly, both of them smiling. Bill was struggling to believe that his jealous, often Veela-dominant wife was somehow fine with Hermione, with him taking a second wife. In the moment of the ritual it had made sense. He was saving his brothers’ lives and she understood that, of course. But he hadn’t expected the connection with Hermione to be so strong, or for Fleur to accept it like she had when it became obvious that it was deeper than he had thought it would be.

 

Hearing him move, Fleur looked over at him, swiveling Hermione around as well. Bill’s breath caught when he saw them both standing there, so beautiful together. And the way they were looking at him… He needed to get his mind under control before he got himself in trouble. More trouble. He wanted to say something, but he had no idea what.

 

“Beel. I theenk you ‘ave something to say to ‘Ermione,” Fleur prompted.

 

Knowing he couldn’t avoid it, he took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry Hermione. I’ve been an arsehole and you did nothing to deserve it. I… I love Fleur… so much,” His eyes met Fleur’s and he felt his insides melting at the heat in them, “and I don’t know what to do with the feelings and… needs… I have with you now. I don’t want to hurt you, but… I can’t do anything to drive her away either.” He could barely hold himself still, his body screaming to either dive forward and kiss one of them, both of them, or shuffle back and forth, trying to expend the energy.

 

“Oh Bill,” Hermione flung herself at him, hugging his body in a way that sent peace and desire coursing equally through him. “I don’t want to take anything away from the two of you either. I’m so afraid this will turn out badly and it will be all my fault!”

 

Fleur’s arms were suddenly going around both of them as well and Bill was quite certain he was in an exquisite taste of paradise. “You are both reediculous,” she admonished. “I am pleased to share you with my sister of the heart. It is what I said before the ritual, soeur de coeur.”

 

“I remember,” Hermione said, her voice muffled under Fleur’s hair. “But I don’t understand what it means.”

 

“I am French, darling. Zee people call it by ‘menage a trois’ even in England for a reason!” Her tinkling Veela laugh sent a shudder through Bill and Hermione both. More seriously, she continued, “My Veela sees you as a sister to be shared with, in every way. Eet ees not uncommon in our culture. We just do not share with outsiders. I do not know the why, but I know you are a piece of our ‘eart, and eet ees not new, even if ‘e didn’t want to see it before.”

 

Bill blinked at that thought. He had no idea Fleur had felt that way before the ritual. But then, when had there been time with the war going on? Still, he wasn’t sure what he would have thought of such a suggestion before this happened. He could see how hard Hermione was blushing right now and wondered if he matched.

 

Fleur brushed a hand up into Hermione’s hair. “‘Ave no fear, petit amour, I weel do nothing you do not want.”

 

“I’m not sure that will be a problem,” Hermione said, her voice trembling a bit. “But… not something I’m ready for yet, if that’s okay. I…”

 

“Today you just need our Beel. And you need ‘er.” She looked at both of them expectantly, but that made Bill nervous all over again. What if she changed her mind as they kissed? He was far past the point of a peck here.

 

Fleur rolled her eyes. “I weel go first then. But only eef you both promise you weel kiss after, yes?”

 

“Yes,” Hermione agreed and Bill nodded as well. 

 

It was easy and familiar, pulling Fleur to him and bringing his mouth to hers. He was aware of how close Hermione was to the two of them, still touching them both, and it only heightened his arousal and the neediness of his kiss. His tongue was deftly working Fleur up until she pushed away from him and moved so that Hermione was suddenly the one just in front of him. 

 

Bill had lost the willpower to resist. His hands greedily carded into her hair and he began devouring the sweet honey taste of her. As they kissed, the edgy feeling he had been fighting for far too long eased. He already felt better and knew without even thinking about it that he would sleep well tonight and finally be fit for human interactions again. 

 

Merlin, would it always be like this? He had thought it wouldn’t affect them much since, from the beginning, and in ritual nonetheless, his bond to her was sealed. Apparently it was sealed at a much higher level of need than he had anticipated. What would this feel like without their completing the bonding? What were the rest of them going through, especially the twins?

 

He couldn’t hold the thoughts long, the heat of their kiss overriding everything else. He was, with Fleur’s touch encouraging him, sliding a hand along the bottom of Hermione’s shirt, touching the skin of her abdomen, when he heard his boss’s angry voice behind him and jumped, shoving both of his women behind him. 

 

Bill was more relieved than he could say when he realized they were still alone in the office and it was only the goblin version of an inner-house howler demanding to know where he was since the ritual curse-breaking he was supposed to be attending was due to start 3 minutes ago. “Shite,” he grumbled. “I have to go.” He leaned his forehead against Hermione’s, then moved so that he could do the same to Fleur. 

 

“You go, Beel. ‘Ermione and I weel talk some more and then I weel see ‘er out to ‘er boys.” 

 

Hermione stepped back from him, but stared into his eyes for a moment. “Thank you, Bill. I feel much better, and I hope you do, too.”

 

“You have no idea, little love,” he replied before slipping out of the room with a last longing look at his two wives.

 

*********************

 

Ginny wandered into the kitchen of the Burrow with a yawn. It wasn’t too late in the day. Maybe after lunchtime, but not much later. She knew everyone else had probably been up for hours. There had been a big commotion at what was probably breakfast and all her nice warm pillows had left her. Since then, the house had been quiet until the sounds of building began recently. 

 

“What are you doing?” she asked as she took in the sight of Charlie hammering on something near the roof. He was laying back on the tabletop that he had obviously enchanted to float up to where he was working.

 

He jumped in surprise at her voice. The table tipped and nearly turned over with his movement. “You gave me a scare, Gin!” he laughed. “Decided to join the world of the living after all?”

 

“Yes. I think I feel better than I have in a year or more,” she enthused.

 

“I know what you mean. First thing this morning I was just the same.”

 

“But you’re not now?” Ginny asked. She didn’t like the idea that this feeling might go away so quickly. 

 

Even from so far below, she could see her brother blush. Ah. The need for their wife. She could tell he was struggling with what to say, so she ignored her own question and said, “You didn’t tell me what you’re doing up there.”

 

“Fixing a spot that was about to leak through. The months the old place had to be abandoned weren’t kind to it.”

 

Ginny hadn’t even thought about that. “I guess we’re lucky no one burned it down or anything.”

 

“Hmph,” he grunted. “They might have tried. Bill had all kinds of wards on it. Just… he must not have thought about regular upkeep. I’ve been working on a few little things like this all day. No big damage yet, but they were all things that could have gotten worse over time.”

 

“That makes sense,” Ginny said as she fumbled around in the fridge, finally pulling out sandwich supplies.

 

“I want to be sure it’s in good order by the time Mum gets home,” he said as the table landed in place and he rolled off of it.

 

“So you can run off to Romania and avoid her as usual?” Ginny asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Charlie had always been her favorite brother and it had never stopped smarting that he ran off as soon as he possibly could, leaving her behind. She understood that it wasn’t her he was running from, but it didn’t make her hate it any less. 

 

It took a few moments for Charlie to reply. “I don’t know if I’m going back this time.”

 

Ginny felt her eyebrows raise. “Really?” When he gave a tiny nod, she squealed and threw herself at him. 

 

Charlie caught her, laughing. He twirled her around and tossed her up in the air like he had since she was a little girl, catching her easily and throwing her again. Until she was big enough to break into the broom shed, this had been the closest she could come to flying. Probably how he got the title of favorite brother in the first place. None of the others were strong enough as she got older.

 

He set her down after a moment, panting. “I’m sorry, Gin. I’m weaker than usual.”

 

“Because you need Mione?” Ginny questioned, floored that it might be affecting him so deeply.

 

Charlie looked away, a sure sign that the answer was yes but he didn’t know what to do or how to deal with it. Ginny looked him over. He really didn’t look like he was feeling well. 

 

She considered letting the subject go, but knowing Charlie, he needed to talk about it and wouldn’t. “How come your bond with her is so strong? I didn’t think you had met her more than once or twice.”

 

Charlie sat down at the table with a sigh. “I don’t know. You’re right that I had barely met her. I… it started at Bill’s wedding. She was so beautiful, not a little kid anymore at all. And there was just… this look in her eyes. Things were so bad but she was going to make them better. She was still smiling despite everything. I could feel her determination, her courage when I was near her and it… it was inspiring. She was inspiring. So smart and crazy about creatures and ready to help anyone and anything that needed it. I wanted to dance with her, but I was scared to ask.”

 

“Awwwww. Charlie, she wouldn’t have turned you down,” Ginny said with absolute certainty. No woman in her right mind would turn Charlie down, and Hermione had an excellent mind. 

 

He blushed and shook his head, clearly not believing it. “After they left… I was so worried. But inspired, too. Thinking about her made me more determined to recruit and to protect the dragons. I thought about her… a lot. All the time. I didn’t mean to. I felt old and creepy and weird, but… it made me feel less alone to have someone to focus on.”

 

Ginny sat down next to him and slid him a cup of tea before digging into her sandwich. She would have asked him something else, but he went on without being prompted. 

 

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with someone I barely know. It’s not fair to her. But… I don’t think there’s any way to fix it now.” He looked far more worried and upset than she had ever seen him before, but before she could say anything, he asked her, “What about you, Gin? You’re a lot more attached than I thought you would be - than any of us thought you would be.”

 

She grinned. “Unexpected, but not unappreciated.” She waggled her eyebrows until he was laughing.

 

“Were your feelings more romantic than you thought before?” he asked curiously.

 

“I don’t think so,” Ginny mused, “but maybe I’m wrong. She certainly is hot, and based on some of the kisses we’ve seen and experienced, I think she’s going to be a lot of fun once she gets used to the idea and loosens up a bit.”

 

“Gin!” Charlie almost spit out his tea at that suggestion. 

 

“We might as well enjoy our wife now that we’re married to her, don’t you think?” she asked with a sly grin. Charlie blushed to the roots of his hair. “In all seriousness, I think I need her because of how deep our friendship was before, maybe some lingering other feelings I wouldn’t have acted on otherwise, and maybe a tiny bit to do with the power of being the 7th?”

 

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “Bill would be better at those kinds of theories.”

 

“He might be better,” she said, nudging him, “but I know you’re not stupid either.”

 

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Sure, I could figure it out, but the question is would I want to when I can just send everyone to him and avoid boring myself to death?”

 

“If we threw a dragon in somewhere I guess it would be worth theorizing then?” she asked, a tiny bit grumpy with him.

 

He just grinned in response. “Of course.”

 

“What will you do if you stay here? Besides Mione?” She grinned at the way he blushed and spluttered at that question.

 

“You are not supposed to be implying such things, young lady!” 

 

“Sorry, old man,” she quipped back.

 

After a moment, he answered her question. “I don’t know yet. There’s not much of interest in London for someone like me, but I’ll have to figure out something.”

 

“You don’t think you could be apart from her?” Ginny asked, realizing that was what was really driving him to give up the dragons.

 

He blushed again, confirming it without words. “I… unless we um… seal the bond. I need her. Today has been hard. I feel like something is missing and I keep getting weaker as the day goes on. I need to get up and make dinner, but I feel so exhausted I’m not sure I can.”

 

“They’ll be home soon, I’m sure,” she said absently, contemplating how late it actually must be already if he was considering dinner.

 

At that exact moment, the floo sounded and they both turned toward the sitting room hopefully. When they heard the twins hopefully calling out for Hermione, they looked at one another with equally mournful glances. 

 

“Just Gin and I,” Charlie called out.

 

Fred and George looked just as sad when they came into the kitchen. 

 

“She was so happy just a bit ago,” George said. “I was hoping she was having a good time with one of you two.”

 

“Because this only leaves Bill or Percy,” Fred said, sounding disgusted. 

 

“You can feel that she’s been doing stuff with someone?” She was half intrigued and half jealous. 

 

“Yeah, we’ve got to teach the girl to block us out on some things,” George groaned. 

 

“Doesn’t help a damn bit when I already feel like it’s been years since I saw her and need her right now!” Fred declared. 

 

“Right yesterday,” Ginny said. “Do you think we could talk her into one good fuck for each of us just so we can function when she’s busy?” 

 

Her three brothers looked like their eyes would pop out of their heads. 

 

“I’m just saying it would help us all. Then we could take our time before going again,” she added with a laugh. 

 

After a stunned moment, Fred declared, “Speak for yourself. Once we start, I’m never going a day without her!”

 

George started laughing, but Ginny wasn’t sure if he just thought what Fred said was hilarious or if there was some further twin speak going on. She did notice that Charlie was looking upset and decidedly not in a laughing mood.

 

It appeared that George had caught Charlie’s demeanor as well, because he reached out and said, “We’ll all get a turn with her eventually,” he said. When Charlie’s expression got even darker, George switched to reassuring, trying to figure out what had his older brother so upset. “Whatever she was happy about wasn’t anything that serious, Char. It was just a few minutes. Maybe she had a good snog with one of them and whichever it was will come back without such a stick up their arse.”

 

“Applies to either one of them these days,” Fred added. 

 

Ginny couldn’t help but agree. She loved Bill, but he had been a jerk the last few days. Sure, he suddenly had a lot more responsibility and two wives and everything, but that was no reason for him to take things out on Hermione and the rest of them. 

 

Charlie sighed and she could see him work to bring his expression under control. He even managed a wan smile as he pushed up from the table. It was only because they had talked earlier that Ginny noticed how tired his movements were when he said he was going to start dinner. She resolved to go help him after seeing how the twins’ morning went.

 

“How is Mum?” she asked.

 

Fred glowered and George looked somewhere between worried and angry. Not a good sign. It was Fred who started. “She went on about Bill being horrible some more. And backed us into telling her that we have a triad with Hermione. She basically called our wife a wizard-hungry slag - and that’s without knowing about her marrying the rest of you lot.”

 

Putting a hand on his twin’s shoulder, George added the relatively positive points. “She did tell Bill thank you eventually. And we had some nice storytime about Dad and a little bit about Fabian and Gideon. She told us about them having a triad before she figured out why we were asking.”

 

Ginny shook her head. “You boys never think she’s going to figure things out. I expect it of Bill and the others, but you two are supposed to do better!”

 

They both laughed ruefully. Fred started, “We really-”

 

“Should, but-”

 

“We need-”

 

“Information!” George ended. 

 

She contemplated that for a second, “Do you feel like you got it?”

 

“Not anything worth that conversation,” Fred asserted.

 

George gave him a look. “She confirmed that we’ll feel better and be able to be separated once the bond is sealed.”

 

“It happened quickly for Fabian and Gideon, so she probably didn’t know what it would be like for a triad that waited. There wasn’t time to ask for sure.”

 

“That’s when she figured out we must have made one ourselves,” George said.

 

“Bill was smooth with his lies about how it happened!” Fred added, looking impressed. “He told her that Ron willingly sacrificed his own feelings for her so that we could live. Without a single word about any of the rest of it.”

 

“That’s going to make it worse when she finds out, you know,” Ginny told them. 

 

“We know,” they said together.

 

“But it was still damn impressive,” Fred said with a grin.

 

“What were you up to the rest of the afternoon?” Charlie asked, seemingly back to normal.

 

“Ah…” the twins looked at each other for a moment before George continued carefully, “We were taking a look at our flat and the shop. We hope to move back in soon.”

 

“To the shop or the flat?” Charlie asked, keeping his eyes on the food he was cooking and probably trying not to show how rigid his body had gone as he waited for the answer.

 

“Both,” Fred said cheerfully.

 

“What about Hermione?” Charlie asked.

 

“Well she’ll live with us, of course,” Fred said. “Soul-bonded and all that. We need her more than everyone else.”

 

George elbowed him and there was a pause as they were obviously conversing hurriedly. Before either of them could say anything more damaging considering Charlie looked ready to beat the pulp out of both of them, Ginny said, “I think Hermione will want to be involved in that decision.” She was relieved to see Charlie relax minutely.

 

“Sure, but we know she’ll pick us,” Fred said jovially. “Why wouldn’t she want to live with the most attractive sibling in the set?”

 

“Fred!” George groaned. He looked apologetically over to Charlie, but he was very focused on what he was doing. The only sign of how he felt was how tightly his jaw was locked. George looked to Ginny for help.

 

Ginny hesitated for a moment. She wanted to ask something, but she was afraid they would take the mickey out of her for it. But bollocks to that. She wasn’t going to be afraid and they all needed something else to talk about. She didn’t much like the idea of Hermione living strictly with the twins either. “Did you see Harry while you were out?”

 

“No,” George started, relieved at the subject change.

 

But Fred nodded. “I think it was while George was upstairs, but I saw Harry and Ron wandering Diagon. The shops are a mess, but some of them are open now.”

 

“Will you be opening soon?” Ginny asked, surprised that any of the shops had managed to pull themselves back together already.

 

“Not until-”

 

George picked up the statement when Fred’s voice broke, “after the funerals.” His hand sought his brother’s.

 

“And maybe taking some time to remake stock,” Fred added quietly.

 

“Those Death Eater bastards came after our shop harder than most. They destroyed a lot of our products,” George explained.

 

Ginny felt the familiar fury of knowing another way that Riddle had fucked over her family. She had never really stopped thinking of him like that. He was a very real person to her, and one she wished she could have seen suffer more before he was gone. As often happened, she had to pause and calm herself down. The important thing was that he was gone. And his Death Eaters would be rounded up and made to pay for the many things they did, at least.

 

When she managed to come back to herself, she realized George and Charlie were both looking at her oddly. Fred seemed oblivious, playing with some toy from the shop that did Merlin-only-knows what. George cleared his throat and asked, “How are you and Harry doing?”

 

She wasn’t sure how to answer. Of course she wanted things to work with him. She had loved him for years. But… she wasn’t honestly sure how upset she would be if Bill wasn’t able to help them. And she felt terrible that she might not care as much as she should have. This past year at school while they were away… Ginny knew that what Harry and Ron and Hermione had been doing was important, but what the rest of them - of Dumbledore’s Army - went through to survive at the castle was important, too. And she wasn’t about to let anyone forget it. She was startled out of her thoughts when George said her name, his eyebrows raised with worry that she wasn’t answering.

 

“Oh. I… we’re friendly. And that’s… great. I don’t know how things are going to be. I… miss what we had between the battle and the ritual, when it seemed like things were going to work out.”

 

“But?” Charlie asked from his spot beside the stove.

 

“Well… I’ve changed a lot since they left. And I think Harry probably has, too. I mean, we all have in ways. But… of course I want him, want to be with him, but…” 

 

“Isn’t it the same with Hermione?” Fred asked, a little confusion crossing his face.

 

“Yes and no,” Ginny answered. “We were never together like Harry and I were. This is like… having my best girl friend back, but now we’re even closer and there is potential for a lot more between us than there ever would have been before. It’s almost like a new relationship instead of making an old one fit where things had changed.”

 

“And by ‘things’ you mean yourselves,” George clarified.

 

“Yes,” Ginny agreed, feeling somehow relieved that at least he, and probably Charlie by the look on his face, got it. Fred seemed confused, but… of all of them, he seemed least changed from the ordeals of this past year. Maybe it just wasn’t something he had experienced enough of to understand. 

 

She looked up from her contemplation to see that Charlie was leaning heavily against the counter and remembered she had intended to help him so he wasn’t doing as much. “Oh, Charlie! You sit down and let me finish dinner,” she cried, hearing her mother’s commanding voice slip out of her own mouth. She would have been mortified, but she had to admit it was gratifying how automatically Charlie just did as he was told.

 

Fred and George had begun whispering to each other. George said, too casually, “I think Freddie and I are going to go lay down for a kip.”

 

“Okay,” Charlie said absently, his mind clearly elsewhere.

 

The twins shuffled their feet a little as they got up, seeming like they were going to say something but neither doing it. They were both blushing a little. “We just need to be close until Hermione gets here,” George finally explained to no one.

 

“That makes sense,” Ginny said, wondering why they felt the need to explain, “Napping together sounds like a good idea.” 

 

The twins looked at each other and nodded, with a look on their faces that she couldn’t interpret. They seemed… embarrassed? Ginny looked to Charlie, who seemed as confused by the way they were presenting this as she felt. She wondered if they were feeling sick or something. “Is there anything going on with you two that we should know about?”

 

“Gross, no!” Fred assured as George blushed and shook his head no.

 

“What?” she asked. 

 

“We don’t want to be judged for sleeping together,” George said quietly. 

 

“You just slept together last night,” Charlie said, puzzlement clear on his face. “You’re twins for Merlin’s sake. You cuddled up to each other to sleep for most of the years I lived here. Why would we care now?”

 

“Well we just know… it’s just a little weird now since we’re…” Fred trailed off with a blush as he seemed to realize he was speaking out loud. 

 

Ginny finally caught on and smirked at the twins. “Oh… it’s difficult to be without the third part of your triad and you don’t usually snuggle when certain things are so hard ?”

 

Charlie started laughing. Fred glared at him and said, “We can’t help it! And being close to each other helps. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

 

“You’re the ones who were acting like it was weird,” Charlie snickered. 

 

“We were fine with you just saying you needed a nap. But now that you’ve brought it up,” Ginny said, tapping her finger to her chin, “You might want to work on your comfort levels snuggling together when things are hard since you’re sharing a witch in a much more… intimate way than the rest of us.”

 

George covered his face with his hands. “Merlin, why are we having this conversation?”

 

Ginny and Charlie laughed together as the twins retreated from the room.

 

*************************

 

Hermione was practically dragging the boys toward The Leaky Cauldron. She hadn’t expected to spend the whole afternoon shopping, but after their months on the run, there really were a lot of things they each needed to buy. And the shopkeepers in the Alley needed patrons, so it only made sense to make their purchases there. 

 

Still, she had wanted to be home hours ago. Hermione felt drained and needy and nearly overcome with wanting. The surge of energy and power she had experienced earlier when she and Bill reconnected had seeped away with the lack of the rest of her loves. 

 

Loves? Hermione had to take a deep breath to calm herself from that thought. Yes, of course she had always loved the Weasleys. But this was a different feeling entirely. She wasn’t sure what to think of how rapidly the magic linking them all was seeping into her psyche. But then… loving and being loved by all of them felt… right. Why make herself miserable thinking about it in ways that would only make her feel ashamed when she could accept it instead?

 

Was that just logical or was she allowing her judgment to be clogged by magic and hormones? Merlin, she couldn’t tell. And that worried her. She needed someone to tell her more about how all this was supposed to work. If only there were actual experts on marrying a whole family. Well, Hermione told herself, she would just have to become the expert.

 

She was jostled out of her thoughts when she ran straight into another witch. Hermione had shrunk and pocketed her purchases, but the other woman’s bags were in the street around them. Hermione apologized as she, Harry, and Ron scrambled to help the lady pick up her things. There was suddenly the cracking sound of a slap.  

 

“Oi! What was that for?” Ron cried, staring at the woman in confusion. 

 

“You!” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “You kissed me!”

 

“What? I did no such th... oh.” Ron suddenly stopped, his eyes going round. He looked to Harry and Hermione, but she had no idea what his realization could have been. “In the Ministry,” Ron said, his voice so shocked it was barely above a whisper.

 

Merlin! When they broke in. Which meant… “Mary Cattermole?” she asked, “The muggleborn who was on trial when we broke into the Ministry?”

 

The poor woman was crying. “Yes. Yes, and I know I should be thanking you, but… seeing him…” She pointed to Ron, “it just brought back everything that happened that day. I was so lucky. Our whole family. If it hadn’t been for you three. The paper says you’re the Golden Trio and it’s true. You saved us!” She threw herself at Ron, hugging him as he stared at her, bewildered.

 

“Saved us all from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” someone in the crowd that was gathering around them said. There were murmurs of assent and people started surging forward, trying to talk to them, to touch them. Hermione felt her own panic welling up, reflected in Harry’s eyes for sure and probably Ron’s as well, she just couldn’t see him at the moment because someone had pressed between them. 

 

They had to get out of here, but first she said, “Mary, may I owl you? There is something important we need to talk about.”

 

The older woman looked shocked at the idea that they might want to contact her, but she agreed. “Of course. Anything you three need. We just came back home to Lavenham. It’s small enough just put that and the owl will find me.”

 

Hermione squeezed her hand, then let go, finding Harry and Ron and dragging the two through the crowd. It was a terrifying few minutes before they made it into The Leaky. When he saw the problem, Tom had his workers hold people back from the door until the three of them made it to the floo and headed home. 

 

She tumbled out last, her heart nearly bursting at the sight of her twins on the giant bed in front of her. The noise of the three coming through had woken them, but they were still on the bed when they pulled her to them. Hermione had felt their desperation to be together growing as the hours passed. Her own matching needs had been hard to handle, but she refused to give her life over to this magic when she had other things to get done. 

 

Now, though. She was overwhelmed with need and found herself completely unaware of anything except Fred and George in front of her. She wasn’t even sure which one she was kissing until it was already happening. Hermione didn’t know whose hands were where and she didn’t care. She needed them - both of them - right now, tonight, and she was not going to let anything get in their way. 

 

*************************

 

Charlie felt something shift inside him before he heard the commotion of the trio arriving home. It was like a cord that had been wrapped tight around him had released, letting him breathe again. A feeling of happiness and sense of contentment washed over him, his magic responding to her sudden presence. It felt so good that he physically reacted. Charlie blushed hard at how badly he wanted Hermione in his arms. And so much more, if he was being honest. He was pulled toward the sitting room as if he had entirely lost control of his own body. 

 

The moment he stepped into the room and saw what was happening on the bed, all of those good feelings disappeared instantly. Charlie had to fight himself not to either scream with rage or burst into tears. He had so many feelings all at once that he was sure he would combust. His body shuddered with need, chills sweeping over him as though he were fevered. But jealousy, deep and primal, hit him at the same moment.

 

This was… Merlin, he couldn’t cope with this. The twins. They were his brothers and he loved them and he wanted to rip their bloody heads off. He wanted to take her out of their arms and run away with her where she would belong only to him. When the fuck had he turned into a bloody caveman?

 

Forcing himself to move away felt like swimming through molasses, every step away from her bringing actual, physical pain, but he couldn’t be in that room and know that she didn’t feel that way about him . The logic that he didn’t know how she felt didn’t help him calm down at all.

 

He was bracing himself against the far side of the kitchen table, physically keeping himself from going to her, when Ron and Harry came into the room with a very disgruntled Ginny. 

 

“If they hadn’t wanted to be watched, they would have chosen somewhere else in the first place,” she grumbled at the boys. 

 

“Dont be stupid, Gin. We nearly picked them up to get them into the bedroom and none of them noticed we were even there,” Ron said, dramatically shuddering. “They didn’t choose where they were going to turn shameless.”

 

Harry shook his head. “That was definitely more of my sister and… brothers than I ever wanted to see.” He gave a half-laugh and scratched his head. “I’ve really got to talk to Bill about how all this magic is affecting family stuff. I tried to call them something else and only ‘brothers’ would come out.”

 

They were still talking, but Charlie couldn’t focus on them. He felt like he was dying inside and he couldn’t… he just couldn’t do this. He stumbled a bit as he made his way around the table. He thought Ron was saying something to him, but he couldn’t be sure. Everything was spinning around him as he made his way into the sitting room. Ginny was screaming something at him now, but he didn’t hear her before the floo whisked him away from brothers he didn’t want to hurt, toward Romania and dragons that wouldn’t break his heart to pieces. 

 

**************

 

Fred couldn’t help but smile at his twin who was practically writhing against their wife. So much for holding back and giving her time . Not that they were going to push her further than she was willing to go, but Fred was thrilled by how very willing she was right now.

 

Hermione had practically tackled them when she came out of the floo earlier. Fred knew they hadn’t been any better. He vaguely recalled Harry, Ron, and Ginny guiding them to this bedroom. It was an annoyance at the time, but now that it was just their triad and a big bed? Fred was so turned on he wasn’t sure he would make it to anything happening even if she wanted to go that far.

 

As much as he enjoyed watching her go after his twin, Fred was ready for some attention of his own. “Twin-o-mine, I think it’s my turn,” he coaxed, his hands running up Hermione’s sides. 

 

They had positioned themselves with one on either side of her so that she could roll back and forth between them. Truth be told, Fred was a little nervous about how this was going to go. He knew both of them were as well, but they were also all three half out of their minds with lust and need for one another after spending the day apart.

 

“Do I have to give her up already?” George whined with a smile, his lips still right against hers.

 

Hermione ran a hand down each of their sides, one in front, one behind. “We have plenty of time for both of you, boys. We belong together and we’re not leaving this room until we’ve been as close to each other as possible.”

 

“Does that mean-” Fred began cautiously.

 

“That you want us, both of us, right now?” George asked, his breath catching as he spoke.

 

Hermione made a humming noise of assent. “If I don’t have both of you inside me before the end of the night, I might go mad.”

 

His twin looked at him and he could feel and hear the turmoil inside him. What if she regrets it? Fred assured his brother that they would keep checking in with her. 

 

Barely a second had gone by for them to have that exchange, but Hermione was already giving him a look since she was facing him at the moment. “I know I said I didn’t want to do anything so soon, and maybe we won’t go as far as I think I want to right now - I trust you both to stop if I tell you to - but I know I can’t do another day like today without the two of you until we’ve bonded.”

 

Fred could hear George’s disapproval before his brother leaned over her. “Love, as much as I want this, I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing it by us or the magic.”

 

She squirmed a little, perhaps because the conversation bothered her, perhaps just because it drove them both wild. Fred wasn’t really sure and honestly didn’t care. He captured her mouth with his, letting his tongue do the talking for now. He could feel that George was still unhappy with the discussion, but was quickly losing the battle with his libido.

 

By the time he and Hermione had to break for air, George had begun kissing along her neck. Fred slid his hands down to her breasts, expertly grazing his long fingers over her nipples. She whimpered every time he stroked her that way, a perfect sound that Fred wanted to pull out of her again and again. 

 

Behind her, George had started sliding his hands under her shirt, slowly pulling it upward until Fred was able to take it, bunched into his hands, and pull it over her head. She was far more comfortable suddenly being shirtless with two wizards than Fred had expected, but she rolled her eyes at him. “You’re both a part of me, and I assume I am for you, too. Why should I feel embarrassed with you?”

 

Fred didn’t have an answer for that, and he was really okay with it in the first place, so he just whispered, “You shouldn’t. Ever, love. You are definitely a part of us, too.”

 

George whispered against the silken skin of her back, “Ours, all three together.”

 

Fred felt a brush of magic and realized that somehow George’s words had begun whatever bonding needed to happen between them. He shuddered at the power as the mind links between the three of them blew wide open. They had not had time yet to teach Hermione to block them out, but even without blocks between them it wasn’t this intense of a connection.

 

This felt like they were literally one mind. Every memory, every thought, every single thing about each of them belonged to all three in that moment. 

 

When he leaned down and gently kissed Hermione, the awe of the moment overwhelmed him and made him need the physical grounding, Fred not only felt it as he would, but as though he were receiving it at the same time. When George unhooked her bra and brought it away from her, Fred blew on her nipples, sending cold chills over all of them as their nipples tightened. 

 

Fred turned Hermione to face George, knowing it was more than time for his turn again. He could feel the sensations of his own hands on her body, like a phantom on himself. It was a bizarre feeling, but heightened everything to a degree that made him quiver in anticipation of things to come. 

 

He watched as George took her lips with his, closing his eyes for a moment to savor the kiss before reaching around to play with her breasts, teasing and tweaking her - and consequently their - nipples as Fred began to pepper her back with kisses. Fred gasped at the profound sensations all over his body as he felt things from himself, George, and Hermione simultaneously. 

 

“Merlin, I’ll never be able to hold out long enough for sex,” Fred whispered.

 

“I don’t think you’re alone on that,” George gasped as Hermione ripped his shirt from his body and stroked from his neck all the way down his abdomen and ran her finger along the edge of his trousers. Any restraint George had once had was long gone.

 

“We don’t need to,” Hermione said confidently.

 

“Don’t need to, what?” Fred asked, having entirely lost track of what they were talking about as he trailed kisses up and down her arms now. He would put his lips anywhere on her gorgeous body and she felt and tasted devine.

 

“To have... intercourse,” she said, a moan escaping her as Fred leaned down and licked at one taut nipple. He and George joined her moaning as the feeling intensified between them with all of them experiencing it. “We just need…” Her breath caught on that word as Fred stripped off his shirt. “To make each other come.”

 

“Thank Merlin,” George whispered. “I feel like I could let go any moment already. Was so… bloody worried… about you needing me to hold back for a certain length of time.” With each pause between words, George was thrusting against her from behind. Fred startled at the strange sensation at first, but soon let his inhibitions go and enjoyed the pleasure it invoked.

 

“Well, not yet,” Hermione said. She was sliding her hands down to unfasten his trousers as he made his way back to her shoulders and neck. When she was too distracted to get them undone, she muttered, “ Evanesco ,” and all three of them were nude.

 

Fred was surprised how much the simple experience of being nude next to her affected him. He hadn’t thought his cock could get any harder, but he was wrong. He heard Hermione groan and realized she was feeling that as well. 

 

“Merlin, this is weird,” she whispered, “Just feeling this body part I don’t even have, and then I bet when I do this…” 

 

Her hand slid down his body until she was ever-so-lightly touching his cock. Fred swore from the intensity of the feeling. He felt George react as well. “Oh…” Hermione sighed, “That feels good .” She gripped a little harder and slid her hand up and down. Fred was certain he wouldn’t be able to take much of this, especially when George decided it was time to do something as well.

 

His twin’s hand moved gently between Hermione’s legs from behind, first petting her inner thighs before moving up to run a finger along the soaking wet lips up to her clit. When he rubbed his thumb down on it, applying a small amount of pressure, Fred cried out along with Hermione. George moaned and circled it instead. They all reacted to each new thing his fingers did, and the same with Hermione on Fred.

 

“I know I can feel everything that’s happening anyway,” George gasped after a few minutes, “but can I have a turn?”

 

“Of course,” Hermione told him, starting to turn.

 

Fred wasn’t really ready to let her go completely, though. When she was on her back, he stopped her. An exchanged look with George and they gave her their identical grins, each one pinning a shoulder down so that she couldn’t turn any further.

 

George began sliding along her body, his hand playing between her legs as he kissed his way down. Fred focused on her breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth just as George touched his lips to her clit for the first time. Hermione bucked up off the bed and both twins thrust forward helplessly. George laughed, low, against her and they all moaned at the sensation.

 

Fred gasped as he realized that Hermione’s hand had gripped his cock again as she complained softly that George wasn’t letting her reach his. The feeling of what George was doing to her while she touched him was overwhelming. Fred knew he was very close to the edge of ending this, but he thankfully knew they were right there as well. 

 

George looked up at the other two, giving them a brief reprieve from what he had been doing to her. “Freddie, you need to come taste her. She’s glorious.” His voice was ragged.

 

Fred didn’t need to be told twice. Hermione’s hand slipped off of him as he maneuvered down to her. She pouted and said, “George, you better get up here and take his place.”

 

“Yes, love,” he responded instantly, moving up and taking her into a kiss that alone would have made them moan. At that exact moment, though, Fred also ran his tongue along her and pressed a finger gently into her as he reached the top, sucking her clit into his mouth. 

 

Hermione gasped, wrapping her hand around George’s straining cock and wasting no time in starting to pump at it. Fred could barely concentrate enough to keep time with her, fingering her along with what she was doing to George. He could feel both a hand on his own cock and the bizarre sensation of his own finger inside her while he licked at her clit.

 

Unable to take much more of this acute pleasure, Fred knew they were all ready to let go. Looking up at the gorgeous sight of his twin and the third part of their soul snogging so hard they could barely breathe, he smiled as he put his lips back around her clit and sucked for all he was worth. 

 

The pair’s lips broke apart above him to let them both scream out their release. Fred was coming, too, but didn’t let go of her clit or stop moving his finger inside her, prolonging her orgasm and keeping all three of them in a state of almost painful bliss.

 

The three of them lay together, panting as Fred felt the link between them slowly closing back to normal. They were still very linked, but he couldn’t feel everything they felt. It was a relief, honestly. That had been… incredible, but he was grateful it wasn’t like that all the time. He wouldn’t be able to function.

 

“Do you… do you think that’s going to happen every time we do anything sexual?” George asked.

 

“I don’t think so,” Hermione finally managed. “But maybe we can learn how to do it on purpose sometimes.”

 

“I would like that,” Fred admitted. “Just, not always. Sometimes I’d like to make it last a bit longer.” 

 

They all three laughed tiredly. It wasn’t long before they were all fast asleep, cocooned together as they should be.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed the little taste of smut here. There will be plenty more to come in the future. (Pun completely intended). Let me know what you thought of the whole long thing! This is the biggest chapter I've ever posted of anything.

Chapter 8

Notes:

I really wish it hadn't taken as long to get this chapter done as it has. What's crazy is that I had two other scenes I meant to fit into this one, but again with each scene taking so long! I would like to say the next one will get out faster, but I doubt it. I would guesstimate another couple of weeks.

My alphabet, Lady WinterLight, is a wonderful help in everything this story is - especially in keeping me on track and remembering when I've left someone out.

I do not own Harry Potter or the Weasleys.

Hermione’s eyes blinked open slowly. She was warm and felt amazing, bodies pressed tight against her. It was only after a few long moments of gathering herself that she realized one of those bodies wasn’t quite who she was expecting. 

 

Snuggled in her arms was Ginny. She was still fast asleep, but Hermione could see tear stains on her face, her eyes looking puffy even as she slept peacefully. When had she gotten there? What had happened?

 

Trying not to jostle anyone, Hermione turned to look behind her. The twins were there, one behind the other. From this angle it was impossible to tell which one was against her. When she turned back, Ginny was opening her sore eyes. 

 

“Ginny, what’s wrong?” Hermione whispered.

 

“He said he was going to stay,” she said, tears starting to fall again. “He said he wasn’t going back and then he left!” Even though she was crying, there was fury in her voice, too. Hermione could feel the twin closest to her starting to stir.

 

“Which he? Harry?” Hermione asked.

 

She shook her head no. “Ch...Charlie. He told me he wasn’t going back to Romania. But he’s gone again! He always runs from things and I can’t stand it!” By the time she finished, Ginny had worked herself up to a regular speaking voice. 

 

Fred and George were both struggling to sit up, though Hermione couldn’t join them since one of her arms was pinned under Ginny. 

 

Fred yawned. “Come off it, Gin. Some dragon needed something, I’m sure. He’ll be back for the funeral if nothing else.”

 

“No, Fred. He left because you two ,” she glared at the twins, “didn’t think about how any of the rest of us would feel if you just attacked our wife in front of us.”

 

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Had she hurt Charlie’s feelings? Had she been so overwhelmed by the twin bond that she hadn’t even noticed him being there, much less upset? To be honest, she didn’t remember seeing anyone but Fred and George from the moment she came through the floo.

 

Ginny opened her mouth to explain, but George cut in over her. “We certainly didn’t mean to upset anyone.”

 

“The wanker has to know we needed her more than him,” Fred said with a laugh. “Didn’t realize he was the jealous type all of a sudden.”

 

Hermione felt like she might hyperventilate. Part of her was upset that she hadn’t realized she was hurting someone. The other part wanted Charlie to come back to the Burrow so she could yell at him for his assumption that he could run away if he didn’t get her when he wanted her. Above those conflicting feelings, though, was the fear that she would never be able to balance everyone. 

 

What if the only reason they had gotten along so far was that the ritual magic had smoothed things over for a while? And it was fading? What if Fleur changed her mind but she and Bill still needed each other? Or whatever was going on with Charlie couldn’t be resolved and he stayed in Romania? She felt a deep ache at each of those thoughts. What if she suddenly needed Percy more or Ginny wanted her in a different way and the twins weren’t okay with it? Or any version of that? It was overwhelming and she felt the panic of knowing there were so many factors in her life she couldn’t control.

 

George’s arm snaked around her stomach, his chest resting against her back. She could feel his concern through the bond. Hermione was purposely ignoring the feeling of irritation she was getting from Fred. It would feed her own and that wouldn’t be helpful right now. 

 

There was a full-fledged rant in progress from Ginny to Fred. “... and she’s not just your wife. We did the ritual for you, you git, but you’re not the only one married to her! You could show an ounce of gratitude to the rest of us instead of acting like a child with a new toy.”

 

“Hermione is not a toy!” Fred shouted.

 

“I’m glad you know that, but now you have to act like it, too,” Ginny fumed.

 

Hermione sighed. “Can we focus on the current crisis, please? Ginny, what did Charlie say when he left? Are we sure he went to Romania?”

 

“I’m sure. Where else would he go?” Ginny asked.

 

“To a friend’s?” Hermione suggested.

 

“He doesn’t have any,” Fred scoffed. “Maybe some blokes on the Reserve, but that takes him back to Romania.”

 

“I’ve never really been around Charlie much,” she said hesitantly. “Is this normal behavior for him?”

 

“Yes,” Fred and Ginny replied together. 

 

“It depends,” George said near her ear. Hermione was glad he was so close or she wouldn’t have been able to hear him. The other two rolled their eyes, but let George continue. “Charlie doesn’t handle conflict well. He never has. Ginny’s not wrong about him running from things.” 

 

Fred picked up the line of thought, “Mum was always upset with him, especially when she found out that he was applying to work at dragon reserves for real. I guess she thought he would grow out of it.” 

 

“So he ran off to Romania,” Ginny said bitterly.

 

“Charlie’s fun and funny. He’s steady and calm most of the time. But when he cares enough about something that he knows he would fight for it and then a situation comes up where he needs to - especially against other people he cares about - he runs instead,” George finished.

 

A sigh escaped her. Hermione wasn’t sure what to do about this. A part of her, now that she was awake and thinking about her magic and the odd pull to the others, was bereft, desperately wanting him near. But she had six - seven if you counted Fleur - other people to turn to. 

 

She nodded, mind made up. “This isn’t all that different from Bill acting like an arse, just Charlie’s version of it. I have all of you to take care of and to take care of me. He’ll be back when he’s ready. We all have to learn to talk to each other and be mature or this will never work.”

 

Ginny looked unhappy but said, “Fine, but I get some time with you today, Mione!”

 

“Oi!” Fred cried, “You don’t get to shout at me for being immature and selfish then do the very same thing.”

 

Annoyance flashed across Ginny’s face, but instead of the easy argument with Fred, she asked, “Hermione, can I please have some time with you as soon as we can manage it? I feel cold and unhappy without you.” She looked very pleased with herself once the words were out.

 

And she should! Hermione knew that, while fantastic at some things, this kind of maturity wasn’t going to come easily to her friend. Ginny was much more comfortable solving problems with a hex or a rough-and-tumble takedown than by calmly talking things out. Most of the Weasleys were, come to think on it. This was going to be a long learning curve for all of them. 

 

“Of course you may,” Hermione responded, letting her pride and affection for Ginny fill her voice. “We’ll sort something out after breakfast.”

 

Hermione tried not to dwell on her worries as she moved to get dressed, laughing when the twins shooed Ginny out of the room so they could uncover their naked bodies long enough to put clothes on. And now that it was just them again…

 

********************

 

George was feeling pleased when the three of them emerged from the bedroom. It wasn’t exactly the start he had hoped for but… They had taken just enough time to ensure they were each well relaxed. His head was still spinning a little with how fast things had moved in the last day. He wasn’t complaining, but he had expected the process to take much longer.

 

He just hadn’t accounted for how strong the magic was. Or how logical their wife could be. After all, she had pointed out, if they were already soul bonded, what difference did it make when they began enjoying one another physically. And hopefully it would make being separated much easier than yesterday had been. 

 

“Weasleys? Hermione? Harry?” boomed a loud voice from the sitting room. Apparently, they had a floo call, Kingsley by the sound of it.

 

Bill was already in the sitting room talking when they all followed the sound. “Yes, you can come through,” he said with a sigh. Everyone stepped back to give him room.

 

The Minister of Magic stepped into the sitting room looking regal in his state robes. Looking around at them, he bowed his head. “I have an apology to make. A number of them, actually.”

 

He turned first to Bill, “I should have done more to protect the reputation of yourself and your House before we knew why you took the twins. I’ve known all of you long enough that I should have known better. I got caught up in one of my first acts as Minister being tied up with all the deaths and… it’s no excuse, but losing the twins would be a hard blow for us all, even myself. Our world desperately needs their levity. Still, it was your choice to make.”

 

Bill inclined his head and formally stated, “The Houses of Weasley and Prewett accept your apology, and will acknowledge you as Minister.”

 

Kingsley’s eyes went wide and he dipped his head again. George wondered what special meaning that had, a House acknowledging him as Minister. Was it in question? They might need to find people to catch them up more on everything that happened since the battle. Clearing his thoughts for the moment, George went back to listening to the conversation at hand.

 

“On a personal level, I accept, but I won’t forget,” Bill added. 

 

The older man nodded, though there was a sadness in his eyes. “You’ve grown into a fine man, William. I hope over time I can again prove myself worthy of your trust.”

 

Turning, Kingsley looked to Hermione, Harry, and Ron, gathering the three together with his eyes. Reaching out, Hermione pulled the boys forward with her. Coming to a stop right in front of him, Hermione said, “I hope you have realized that we could not tolerate the treatment you had prepared for us.”

 

“I have,” Kingsley replied, his stern, serious face acknowledging his shame. “I know you are likely already aware, but I’ve been too wrapped up in my office and forgetting to be the person worthy of being elected.”

 

“That’s not an apology,” Ron pointed out.

 

“No, just an acknowledgement,” he agreed, a sheepish look on his face. “Harry, I want to apologize to you first. After everything you have done, I should not have tried to invoke the ‘greater good.’ I hope to get that phrase out of our vocabulary entirely.”

 

Hermione nodded. “If someone has to sacrifice everything for a plan to work, we will need a better plan.”

 

George noticed that Kingsley smiled with relief when she said ‘we.’ Again he wondered if there was more unrest in the wizarding world than he had imagined. Fred caught his eye and a quick exchange confirmed he was concerned as well. They had been so focused on their new relationship and the grief of losing Dad that it had been hard to think of much else. 

 

“I can’t agree more,” Kingsley said. “Better planning is a must for so much of what we have to do.”

 

Harry had watched this exchange with a growing look of happiness. He stepped forward to shake the Minister’s hand. “I accept your apology, Kings. I want to work with you. I just won’t be pushed around.”

 

“ And ,” Hermione qualified, “our desire to work with you doesn’t mean we agree to yet.”

 

Kingsley’s face fell a little, but he nodded. “I understand, truly. Hermione, I owe you an apology for underestimating your intelligence. The entire set-up of that meeting was far beneath you and if I was going to be so obtuse as to try to strong-arm the three of you into working for me, the way I went about it was a pathetic attempt.”

 

Hermione actually smiled at that, nodding in agreement before telling him, “I accept your apology. I expect better of you in the future.”

 

“You have a right to. I want to thank you, as well. We aren’t ready yet to call our plans for reform ready, but actually writing them out is exactly what we should have already been doing.”

 

George beamed with pride for their wife. He really couldn’t imagine what Kingsley and the Ministry were thinking not writing their plans down, but he was glad Hermione had set them straight on it.

 

“And you, Ronald,” Kingsley said solemnly, then paused, “I’m terribly sorry that we um…  apparently didn’t have your favorite sort of biscuits. Percy had forgotten to set them out, you see…” Fred almost doubled over laughing. George, and everyone else in the room it seemed, was struggling not to follow him. As Ron’s face dissolved into irritation and started to turn red, Kingsley couldn’t hold back anymore. He began laughing, a great booming sound. “Oh, your face,” he panted between guffaws. After a few moments, he cleared his throat and said, “Sorry, sorry… you’re the only one with a sense of humor.”

 

Ron grinned, looking proud of himself, especially when Harry and Hermione both gasped indignantly. “Well, you’ll have to make sure you have the right kind next time, but I did manage on the ones you had, I suppose.”

 

Kingsley winked at him. “I suppose I could also apologise for the assumption that you aren’t as big a player in the Golden Trio.” Looking more serious, he added, “I know that your voice is important as well and that you are not going to let us take advantage of the three of you.”

 

“Damn right,” Ron agreed. “We’re a package deal and I will always be here to look out for them.”

 

“As you should,” Kingsley said. Looking around the room, he met each of their eyes. “And I hope that I will be Minister long enough to ensure that our government is actually here to look out for our people as well. I wish I didn’t need to beg the three of you to help me, but…”

 

Hermione held up a hand. “Kingsley, I think we said-”

 

“Please,” his voice broke a little and everyone looked taken aback. “I cannot tell you how much I need your support. It wouldn’t just mean a lot to me. It… it may make the difference between our Ministry standing or falling. There haven’t been any trials yet. There are still Death Eaters on the loose. Much of the infrastructure of our world was destroyed and the power to recreate it is in the hands of the Wizengamot. Most of the old families have ties to Voldemort and the rest are afraid of what will happen if they try to make the sweeping changes we need without a strong leader to take the heat for them.”

 

“You need Harry to take his Lordship,” Ron said, smirking a little when everyone looked at him with surprise. George noticed that the expression on Hermione’s face was the proud smile she always had for a pupil who had listened when she was teaching. That explained a lot, but he was proud his little brother had actually paid attention to whatever she had told him. Ron deserved more credit than they had sometimes given him. 

 

Recovering from his momentary shock, Kingsley agreed, “That’s not where I had thought to start, but yes, it is one of the steps we need to take. The families of the light as well as those who clung to neutrality will flock to him. If the tides are clearly turning, some of the dark will follow him as well, to try and establish a foothold in our new world.”

 

“We have some plans for that, too, Kings, but does this have to happen now?” Harry asked. 

 

“Time is not on our side, Harry. The sooner people see that you support the Ministry as it is, the more likely they are to believe it can take control without requiring an iron hand.”

 

Eyebrows rose at that. “What kind of iron hand are you considering using?” Bill asked.

 

Kingsley shifted, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “As much as we don’t want to, extending some of Voldemort’s wartime policies could be helpful in the interim. They are still in place now, actually - the early curfews, gatherings of more than 5 people not being allowed, Aurors everywhere and arresting without any evidence of wrongdoing, prisoners held without charges for as long as the Ministry wants.”

 

The mood in the room was getting darker as the list went on. “We’re not enforcing those, obviously,” Kingsley continued, hands up in a surrendering gesture. “An initial sweep of the cells - in the Ministry and in Azkaban - allowed us to release all of the muggleborns and sympathizers they had been holding, but there are others we’re still unsure of and trying to process why they were there. Technically, the muggleborn registry and the laws saying their wands should be snapped are still on the books. Nothing has changed except what I send my force of Aurors out to do. And it’s a pitifully small force.”

 

Harry spoke haltingly, “You think that my support could fix all of that?”

 

“No,” Kingsley said, running his hand down his face. “It will be the work of many witches and wizards, probably for the rest of my lifetime and maybe yours, to fix all of that and the damage their laws have done. But your support - Harry, Hermione, Ron, all of the war heroes we can bring to the forefront - may mean the difference of whether we get to try or things slide back toward war and chaos. Every day we wait, the Death Eaters could be regrouping.”

 

George could almost see Hermione’s mind whirling in her eyes. Harry and Ron were looking to her, though it was easy to see the pleading look in Harry’s. He would follow her lead, but he wanted to help. “We need to get through the funerals,” she finally said. “At least Arthur’s, preferably Remus and Tonks’ as well, before we can meet about this again.”

 

Kingsley looked defeated, but Hermione continued, “For now, could it help for Harry to be seen with you? For him to make some kind of statement supporting you as Minister? To the paper perhaps, or just out in public where the paper will pick it up?”

 

He nodded, perking up a little. “That would be a start. Anything you can do is better than the struggles we’ve been having.”

 

“You could take him to Gringotts to help him claim his Lordship,” Hermione suggested.

 

Kingsley began to nod, but Ron said, “No. Bill should take him. Kingsley runs into them outside the bank, in plain sight, and have a loud conversation about the Ministry and Harry being a Lord.”

 

Hermione beamed at him. “That’s perfect! It will look more natural that way.”

 

“And keep anyone from saying that either of them were doing the other a favor,” Fred shrewdly observed.

 

“We could do it when I go to escort Fleur home from work this afternoon. 1pm. I don’t like to leave her alone anymore, even though I know it’s overly cautious.”

 

“I can stumble on you then. I think this will hold things for at least a few days. Remus and Tonks will be buried tomorrow. Andromeda wants this to be behind her as soon as possible,” Kingsley said. Turning to Bill, he asked, “Do you know when you would like your father’s funeral to be?” 

 

Bill faltered for a moment. “I believe we could have it the day after that. Mum should come home either later today or tomorrow. She’s all we’re waiting on.”

 

“We should discuss the arrangements then,” he said, and began walking Bill’s direction, clearly intending to discuss more quietly than this interview with the entire family had been. As he started to pass, Kingsley paused next to George, placing a hand on Fred’s arm.

 

“Fred, George, I’m sorry I gave up on the two of you so easily. I should have known you wouldn’t be so easy to kill.”

 

Fred laughed and said, “We could-”

 

“Hardly leave-” George continued.

 

“Just when things-” said Fred.

 

“Are finally getting-” Hermione said.

 

“Good again,” George finished, grinning at his twin as always, but confused when Fred wasn’t grinning back. His eyes were huge, mouth hanging open, and he was focused completely on their wife. In fact, everyone was staring at her. Wait. Had she just…?

 

The floo sprang to life and Percy stepped through with tension radiating off of him. All eyes moved to him. “Have you all read the Prophet?” There was one in his hand, thrust outward so that someone could take it from him.

 

“Merlin, do we even want to know why you’re asking that?” George asked, unhappily taking the paper as he was closest. Fred looked over his shoulder as he began reading it but looked away within moments, cursing and trying not to punch something. George could feel his brother’s rage mixing with his own and watched as Hermione’s head spun to the two of them at the overwhelming feelings in the bond. 

 

George’s fingers were shaking when he passed the paper to Bill, knowing that he would share it with Kingsley and Hermione and they were the ones who needed to see it most, even though Ginny was huffing. Ron and Harry both looked confused but wary. George heard Hermione gasp when she saw the headline and he didn’t blame her.

 

Saved By Love, The Ginger Trio

By Rita Skeeter

 

Hermione Granger, one third of the Golden Trio who saved the Wizarding World, is a Granger no longer. She is now Hermione Weasley nee Granger - and not with the brother you might think. 

Or, for that matter, a single brother. Frederick and George Weasley, successful business geniuses and magically bonded twins, have formed a triad with the witch. It was this, through a mysterious ritual from their Family Legacies, that kept the dying twins alive after the Battle of Hogwarts. 

Their mother, Molly Weasley, confirms the pride found in having a triad, one of the magically strongest forms of bonding, in her family for a second time. Her brothers, Fabian and Gideon Prewett, also magically bonded twins, were part of a triad as well before their untimely deaths at the hands of five Death Eaters.

Still, she isn’t pleased by who her sons are bound to. Naturally, we all expected the former Miss Granger to choose one of her fellow Golden Trio members to woo, perhaps her long-term flame Harry, or her closest ally in keeping Harry Potter alive, Ronald Weasley. Is the Chosen One not good enough for her? Did she leave the youngest Weasley brother out in the cold?

“She has always wanted to get her hands on two wizards,” Molly Weasley said. “I’m appalled that the twins fell for that and took her away from their brother.”

While this is certainly true (for reference, please read my previous article “Harry Potter’s Secret Heartache”), perhaps the elder Mrs. Weasley should be grateful for her sons’ lives and the witch who was willing to use her love for them.

Of course we can’t know what their Family Magic does, but it is generally well known that a foundation of love is necessary for a full triad binding. “Oh yes, it’s soul deep I’ve been told,” Molly Weasley confided during our interview in her room at St. Mungo’s. 

Her children, visiting only for brief periods while their poor mother mourns for her dead husband, Arthur, were not available for comment at the time.

 

George bit back his own curses when he saw the tears well in Hermione’s eyes. What was Mum doing talking to that evil woman? Was she really that furious with them? Talking about the triad really wasn’t so terrible if she hadn’t also implied that Hermione was a slag. If she hadn’t said basically the same thing to them, he would have thought Skeeter was just twisting Mum’s words. But she had said as much to them. One look at Bill and Fred told George their fury had only grown seeing the damning words in print.

 

“I think it’s time we give the old biddy another visit,” Fred said menacingly.

 

“Absolutely not,” Percy cried indignantly, “It would make a terrible scene!”

 

“And there will be reporters swarming now,” Harry added, all too conscious of what happened with gossip like this.

 

Ginny harrumphed as she finally got her hands on the paper and skimmed the article quickly. “I know Mum can be overly critical, but surely she didn’t say such awful things. We all know how Rita Skeeter makes things up.”

 

“She didn’t make this up,” Fred murmured angrily. He reached for Hermione as the emotion coming through their bond shifted from fury to hurt and disbelief. George could have hexed his twin. They didn’t have to tell anyone that. 

 

“When you visited her yesterday?” Hermione questioned, her voice quivering just a little with sadness.

 

“Yes.” It was Bill who answered, walking over to her and placing a hand on her back. George thought he had come close to pulling her to himself before remembering that Kingsley was there and didn’t know, couldn’t know. “If it makes you feel any better, she’s far angrier with me than you. Thank Merlin she didn’t tell Skeeter about all that.”

 

Kingsley shook his head. “I’ll try to stop by and talk to her. The last thing your family needs is more absurd press attention. Molly’s going to be volatile, I’m afraid, without Arthur to balance her. ”

 

“We’re aware,” Fred said bitterly.

 

“She was volatile before,” Ron offered. “Dad just talked her down when she lost it.”

 

“And sometimes before,” Ginny added, a sad tone to her voice. “He always knew when it was coming and sometimes he could head it off.”

 

Turning to George, Kingsley said, “Congratulations on completing your bond. And to you as well, Fred, Hermione. Will you have a celebration later?”

 

They looked at each other. They hadn’t considered any such thing. It was Ginny who started laughing. “Do any of you really think that Mum will let an occasion like this pass without hosting half of wizarding Britain?”

 

There was laughter all around. It was true. If only it were as simple as just the triad. What would happen when it came out that Hermione was married to all of them? What was it going to be like to talk to even Mum about it?

 

“I guess this explains Hermione being able to join the twinspeak, too,” Kingsley suggested. George had forgotten about that, thanks to the Prophet. 

 

“Yes,” Percy answered, as though any of them had known that was a possibility. “It truly is a soul deep bond. Of course, they still haven’t shared a lot about it with the rest of us - which they never have to do - but I suspect it’s as though she joined the bond they have always had.”

 

“Slightly more complex than that,” Fred said as he nuzzled against Hermione, his happiness that they could be affectionate in front of Kingsley now that the paper had revealed them dancing through the bond. “But it seems to be growing stronger as we...ahhhh...grow closer.”

 

Hermione elbowed him and Ginny started giggling. Percy raised his eyebrows and grinned. Ron and Harry looked thoroughly disgusted. Bill just shook his head and apologized to Kingsley before the two of them put their heads together to talk through the details of the funeral. 

 

George moved over beside Fred and Hermione, taking her hand in his. This had been a whirlwind morning already when he had hoped for sweet and slow. George wanted to sit and talk, just the three of them, about everything they experienced last night. And talk more generally with everyone about how the bonds were settling with everyone. Perhaps after Kingsley left. 

 

For now, they headed for the kitchen and breakfast. Everything since the Battle felt like one crisis after another. George hoped the rest of this day would allow them some down time to think and just be together.

 

Notes:

Out of curiosity, are you interested in seeing the actual funerals or just hearing about them after the fact as characters think about or discuss them?

Chapter 9

Notes:

So, Bill at the beginning of this chapter....that's me when I noticed the GIGANTIC PLOT HOLE I had created and didn't notice until I started writing this one. Seriously, his first three lines might as well come directly from my mouth... er... fingertips.

I know both my alpha and I and presumably a lot of you got caught up in the emotions of the immediate scene and forgot all about the other, but for those who *did* notice - CALL ME OUT. I'm not working with an outline of any sort - more like vague ideas that I'll flesh out as we go - so I am bound to make mistakes here and there. Please let me know if you catch one!

My alphabet Lady Winterlight is wonderful and such a help on guiding me through this, especially right now, the order of scenes. There is SO MUCH going on with all of them right now and so many threads I don't want to drop.

I do not own Harry Potter.

“Shite! Percy, wait!” Bill suddenly shouted just as their brother was about to follow Kingsley back to the Ministry. 

 

Percy turned, one eyebrow raised at Bill’s abrupt cry. Harry realized the problem just before Bill explained.

 

“We can’t meet Kingsley at Gringotts! I got so caught up in everything else, I forgot that Harry still can’t go to the bank.”

 

“Ahhh, the goblins,” Percy said knowingly. “Surely you have a plan for that.”

 

“Fleur does, but there isn’t time to make it happen,” Bill said, scratching the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed by this failure. 

 

“Why not?” Harry asked. “I feel like I should hear this plan.”

 

“There are a few parts to it. The first is to get our hands on some goblin-made anything - jewelry, weapons, whatever we can find.”

 

Ron laughed. “That’s a pretty tall order for a family as poor as ours,” he said. 

 

“I know,” Bill said irritably. “But I think we could talk Professor McGonagall into letting us look around Hogwarts. War heroes and all. Harry, especially. I don’t think she would tell him no for much of anything.”

 

Harry blushed a little. He hated his celebrity, but it could come in handy sometimes. He supposed there would be even more of it now that he had personally done something to save the world. At least that would occasionally afford them something they needed. LIke now, no matter how much he hated it. Harry nodded back at Bill and said, “If that’s what it takes, I can do it. I just hope Hogwarts has something.”

 

“As old as that castle is? I’m certain Professor McGonagall will have some ideas,” Percy said.

 

Bill grinned. He seemed to know something they didn’t. “I happen to know of a room where all kinds of things are kept. It’s a mess, everything crammed together, but I found it once - up on the seventh floor - when I really needed to hide something I… acquired… from a Slytherin I considered a rival. I could never remember quite where, but I’m sure we could find it now and I bet there are things in there that would work.” 

 

Harry felt himself go still as Bill spoke. Looking to Ron beside him, he saw that his friend had gone white, a look of sorrow and fear on his face. Harry knew his own face must mirror the same. Judging from his confused expression, it was not the reaction Bill had expected.

 

“The Room of Requirement,” Harry said in a sad, almost reverent voice.

 

“Probably was a bunch of goblin-made stuff in there,” Ron agreed, “but it’s gone now.”

 

Bill blinked. “What do you mean? I don’t think a room like that could-”

 

“Fiendfyre,” Ron whispered, the freckles standing out on his pale face. 

 

“Fiendfyre!?” both Bill and Percy nearly shouted. 

 

Jumping in before they could rip into Ron, Harry said, “One of the… things we had to find to take down Voldemort was in that room. But Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were in there to keep us from finding it. We were fighting and… Malfoy told them not to kill us, but Crabbe cast Fiendfyre. I don’t know what he was thinking-”

 

“He never managed a thought in his whole life,” Ron snorted. “He couldn’t control it and the whole room burnt.”

 

Harry put a hand on Ron’s arm to keep him from going on, then waited patiently. He could see that Bill was fighting with the information. It was going to be hard for the adults, even young ones, to accept that three teens had done these crazy things. Bill sat silently for a few long minutes.

 

Finally he asked, “How did you get out?”

 

“We found a couple of broomsticks,” Ron explained. “It was still a near thing because someone needed to be a bloody hero and rescue the idiots who tried to kill us.”

 

“Crabbe died for his mistake,” Harry reminded his friend quietly. “We couldn’t just leave Malfoy and Goyle there. They were on the wrong side, but they were just following orders.”

 

Ron glared. “That’s a bunch of rubbish if I’ve ever heard it. I hope we rescued them so they can spend the rest of their miserable lives in Azkaban.”

 

Harry pressed his lips into a thin line, but he knew his friend was unlikely to change his mind. He shrugged and turned back to Bill. “So I don’t know, but the fiendfyre killed the… thing. I don’t know much about the spell but I think if it could do that, it probably destroyed everything.” They had all agreed to never discuss the Horcruxes by name and even Hermione had said they should burn the books that referenced them.

 

“Merlin,” Ron said, horror on his face, “What if the room won’t even work now?”

 

They both turned to Bill as he scratched his chin and thought. He didn’t look very sure about magic like that. “Buildings with so much imbued magic are a bit of a mystery even to scholars on the subject, especially ones like Hogwarts. It would make sense that the whole room may be gone, but there’s probably no way to know without going there.”

 

“What if it’s still burning?” Ron asked fearfully.

 

“I know the countercurse. It would be far too hot to go inside the room, but we could at least put out the fire,” Bill told him. 

 

“So you said that getting the goblin-made items is the first part of the plan,” Percy prompted.

 

“Yes. They are also going to need to replace the dragon you stole-”

 

“We didn’t steal it!” Ron protested at the same time Harry said, “It wanted to be free.”

 

Bill held his hands up to ward them off. “I know. I know you didn’t, but that’s how the goblins see it.”

 

“Well they’re just bloody wrong,” Ron started before Bill continued on over him.

 

“So we’re going to have to help replace it. I need to talk to Charlie about that, but Fleur and I think we could come up with a plan that would be beneficial to the goblins, the Reserve, and the dragons themselves.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened. “That’s a plan I can’t wait to hear!”

 

“And you can hear it, but for right now, I’m just glad there’s an overall plan,” Percy said before Bill could go on. “I need to get back to the Ministry right now, though, so we need to figure out things with the Minister.”

 

They all looked to him, but it appeared that planning PR meetings wasn’t Bill’s talent. He seemed stumped. After a moment, Percy huffed and said, “I’ll set up a lunch date and owl you with where to meet him. It won’t look as natural, but it will only increase the value for him. When the reporters attack after, you can tell them that you are in negotiations with the Ministry to work with them.”

 

“But I’m not sure-” Harry began. Hermione would murder him if he went along with something they shouldn’t agree to.

 

“Negotiations don’t always work out,” Percy said irritably, “That’s why you need to say it that way. It will lead people to believe you’re supporting the Minister without explicitly saying so. And if it doesn’t work out, you later tell the media that the negotiations didn’t work out to everyone’s satisfaction.”

 

Harry agreed then and Percy turned to go. Pausing, he asked, “Do you know where Hermione went?”

 

“To the kitchen with Fred and George, I think,” Bill replied. 

 

Harry wondered what this was about. He thought he recognized the tight look around Percy’s eyes. They all got it when they were missing her and hurting because of it. Thus far, Percy had shown almost no need for Hermione. He unexpectedly turned and marched confidently to the kitchen, returning before any of them could even wonder aloud what he was up to, with Fred following furiously behind and George pulling his twin back.

 

“You don’t get to just grab our wife and snog her whenever you want, Percy,” Fred yelled, struggling to get away from George.

 

“I’m busy and don’t have time to talk about it,” Percy replied without much regard for Fred’s anger. “But do keep in mind that she’s my wife, too.”

 

Hermione came storming out of the kitchen, “Do keep in mind that I am not obligated to snog, sleep with, or so much as talk to any of you.”

 

Percy paused with floo powder already in hand. His brow furrowed and something flashed through his eyes that looked suspiciously like pain. “That is magically untrue, but I’m sorry if touching me upset you.”

 

She charged straight over to him, grabbed his tie, and jerked his face down to hers. “Don’t you dare leave this house presuming I am somehow not interested in you. There is quite enough of that bullshite going around already. I will not be manhandled without consent no matter how much I might want anyone. Is that understood?”

 

Harry couldn’t quite believe the way Percy’s face went from upset to a predatory smirk in seconds. Harry was still having a hard time understanding the transformation Percy seemed to have undergone while away from the family. He was still a snobbish prat sometimes, but he was also more confident and certainly more animated about relationships than anyone had ever expected to see.

 

Percy’s voice lowered to the point that, if he hadn’t been standing so close, Harry wouldn’t have been able to hear. It was meant for Hermione alone. “I apologize. Consent is very important to me. I would have your permission to take another kiss from your perfect lips.”

 

Hermione gasped and blushed as everyone watched with fascination. Harry saw her lips move, but whatever she said was so soft he couldn’t pick it up. He certainly saw the result, though. This kiss was less dramatic than the dipping kiss he had heard about Percy giving her during the ritual, but it made up for the lack of playfulness by being slow, thorough, and obviously toe-curling. 

 

Bill looked rather jealous, just watching it happen. Harry saw that the twins’ mouths were hanging open - whether in surprise or awe he wasn’t sure. Ginny was watching with a gleeful look. Harry turned to Ron and was happy to enjoy the familiarity of making fake puking noises until the kissing was over. 

 

When Percy finally pulled back, he cupped her chin in his hand and said, “I will never take what you don’t want me to, but when we’re both ready, you’re going to want me to.”

 

With that, he was gone. Back to the Ministry and setting up the lunch they would need to have. Bill started to move toward Hermione, who was simply staring at the fireplace with the fingers of one hand lightly touching her mouth where Percy had been devouring her moments before. Harry wondered if he should check on her, too, but decided to let Bill handle it.

 

“Hermione?” Bill asked tentatively, “Are you okay, little love?”

 

She smiled. “Oh yes, quite alright.”

******************

 

Hermione felt like her head was spinning a bit, like she wasn’t entirely sure what just happened. She had been sitting in the kitchen with the twins trying to convince her to eat the other half of her piece of toast - she was still struggling to eat much at all without her stomach rebelling - when Percy had walked in and pulled her into an aggressive snog without so much as a hello first. 

 

She couldn’t understand him. For the most part, he seemed completely uninterested and one of the least affected by the needs of the bond. But then he would look at her with so much heat in his eyes that she would blush from across the room. And then that kiss! The first one had happened so fast she almost didn’t have time to process it. But the one at the fireplace… 

 

There wasn’t time to think about it. Ginny rushed her, grabbed her arm, and began tugging her up the Burrow stairs. “Girl talk time!” she announced as the men all protested below them.

 

Hermione found herself caught up in the giddy idea of just being teenage girls for a bit, and was suddenly running up the stairs with her friend, racing to get into her room before any of the boys could catch them.

 

When the door was safely closed, locked, and warded - slammed right in Fred’s face - the two of them collapsed on Ginny’s old bed laughing.

 

“Did you see how mad he looked?” Ginny giggled. Hermione had. She could feel him seething through the bond and she didn’t really want to talk about it.

 

“I feel like my whole life right now is being chased down by them,” Hermione said, half laughing and half serious.

 

“The twins? Or everyone?”

 

“Everyone. Well, either chasing or running away,” she lamented, thinking of Charlie. There was a pang deep inside her when she thought of him being so far away, but she tried to push it down again.

 

“I know you don’t want to hear another thing you need to do, but there are things you don’t know about why he ran off. You need to talk to him,” Ginny said seriously.

 

Hermione huffed. “I would love to if he were here to talk to.”

 

“He’ll be back, Mione. He wants to be with you. He’s just really shy. And rubbish at talking things through when he’s upset.”

 

“If you say so,” she sighed, flipping to her stomach and laying her head down on the bed. She felt run down again already. When Ginny reached over and started playing with a curl, Hermione was immensely relieved by her touch. 

 

“Soooo… you’ve lost your virginity!” Ginny said, starting with a slow drawl and morphing into a girly half-squeal by the end. 

 

“To your oldest brother,” Hermione replied. “You cannot actually want to hear about that.”

 

“Hermione. You’re married to all my brothers. I doubt you’re going to marry another man, so if we’re going to girl talk, I just have to get over it.”

 

“I couldn’t marry another man if I wanted to,” Hermione huffed.

 

“Why not?” Ginny asked.

 

“I’m already married?” It was meant to be a statement, but Hermione found herself raising the tone at the end. Maybe that wasn’t as good of a reason as she thought it was? She had  just married seven siblings, so perhaps these things weren’t as taboo in wizarding society and they had just been sheltered from such things while in Hogwarts.

 

“Bill is married to someone else. Maybe the rest of us can be,” Ginny said.

 

“Well, you all can, but-”

 

“If we can, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t be able to as well,” Ginny pointed out logically. “I have no idea why you would want six Weasley men and another husband - especially when you already have me , too - but you could.”

 

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, which she knew was Ginny’s point in the first place. 

 

“So your first time was literally on an altar,” Ginny prompted. 

 

“Oh God,” Hermione covered her face with her hands. “Yes. Do we have to talk about it?”

 

“If you want to hear about my first time we do,” Ginny stated flatly.

 

“What!? When?” Hermione demanded. 

 

“Nope. You first.”

 

Grumbling, Hermione walked Ginny through the details. It had been quick anyway, so there wasn’t much to tell. Still, she had to admit it was fun to talk to someone about it. Thank Merlin Ginny didn’t realize how much she had done with the twins last night or she would have to spill everything about that, too.

 

“At least he’s experienced enough to know what he was doing,” Ginny said, her expression telling Hermione she had almost managed not to think about it being her brother. “Harry had no idea.”

 

“Harry?” Hermione squealed, “How? When? I thought you said you two hadn’t? I know he didn’t tell me about any such thing and we had nothing to talk about for months .”

 

Ginny was laughing. “We hadn’t back then.”

 

Hermione blinked. “But… you two are feeling like siblings, I thought?”

 

“We are now,” Ginny said with a sigh. “But we weren’t right after the battle,” she added with a grin.

 

“Ginevra Weasley! But… we were all at the hospital,” Hermione insisted. She just didn’t see when it could have happened.

 

“I know it’s awful to be excited about it happening under the circumstances but… do you remember that Bill asked me to stop by the Burrow on the way to the hospital to bring clean clothes for Mum and the twins? I couldn’t face it alone so Harry came with me.”

 

“Yes, I remember that,” Hermione agreed. So there was a time they were alone.

 

“I was so upset about Dad that I just fell apart when we got home. Harry was so sweet and perfect and everything I needed and then he fell apart, too. Honest, Hermione, I don’t know how it went from that to being all over each other, but that’s just what happened.”

 

She nodded. “It’s actually a common reaction to intense grief. It can just be about coping with or suppressing the pain, but some researchers think it has more to do with filling the void of closeness that-”

 

Ginny was laughing again, though a little more uncomfortably this time. “Merlin, Hermione, is there anything that you don’t know enough about to turn into a lecture?” She suddenly flung herself down next to Hermione, and wrapped her arms tight around her. “I’m glad you know so much, Mione. I’ve felt terrible about the timing. I’m so glad it happened before Harry declared my brothers his and mucked everything up, but we should have been grabbing the things and getting back to the hospital, not fumbling around with each other.”

 

Hermione hugged her back, trying to ignore the way her body was intensely aware of every inch of Ginny that was touching her. She was so much softer than her brothers. Hermione truly didn’t mean to snuggle in closer to her, or for her hand to be drawing circles on Ginny’s hip, but she felt like she needed to be touching the other girl. 

 

Maybe it was all the unprocessed grief she was carrying, but Hermione was suddenly very aware of her own void of closeness. There was nothing wrong with trying to fill that void. She had just reassured Ginny it was okay, after all. Hermione nuzzled into her friend’s neck and breathed in her scent, hoping this would fight off the empty, draining feeling.

 

“You said you two fumbled?” Hermione asked after a few minutes of quiet. She didn’t exactly want to hear about Harry’s first time, but Ginny obviously wanted to talk about it. 

 

“Merlin, did we ever! I’ve read so much that I was sure I would know just what to do, but the second he was touching me I couldn’t think straight,” Ginny said. Hermione noticed that the other girl’s breath was speeding up as she talked and felt her own responding in kind. 

 

“The fumbling wasn’t bad. I had given him a blowjob before, so we did that, but not long enough for him to come. I came twice - once with his fingers and then during the sex, after I adjusted to him. He finished after my second one.”

 

“What part did you like best?” Hermione heard herself ask in a sultry voice. Ginny looked at her, eyes going wide but then shimmying her body even closer. Was this the magic working on them again? Hermione was confused, but more turned on than she had ever imagined being with her friend. 

 

“I love those first touches,” Ginny whispered. Her hand caught Hermione’s and began pulling it up her body. “Innocent but not, you know?” 

 

They both gasped when Hermione’s hand was cupping Ginny’s breast, the tips of her fingers teasing along skin where Ginny’s cleavage showed in her low cut shirt.

 

“Yes, very innocent,” Hermione repeated without really processing what Ginny had said. She was too caught up in this moment. She had been feeling so drained and now it was like she was drunk with the power thrumming between the two of them. Without a thought, Hermione dragged her finger just slightly under Ginny’s shirt, smiling at her when it became obvious there was no bra to get in her way. 

 

Ginny slid her fingers along the hem of Hermione’s shirt, then slowly began working her way up Hermione’s taut stomach until she was grazing the underside of her bra.. “Is this… do you want to do this?” Ginny asked. “I know what I want, but if you don’t, it’s okay.”

 

Hermione was having a very hard time with breathing properly. “I… I do want it… I just don’t know how fast…” Or thinking properly. Was she trying to say she needed to move faster? Why would she want to go slower? Surely she should know.

 

“We don’t have to-”

 

“Do this?” Hermione asked, sliding her hand down and running her thumb over Ginny’s nipple very gently. She had figured out which direction she wanted to go. She was more than ready for this to move forward. Something inside her demanded it.

 

The redhead gasped, giving Hermione the perfect opportunity to claim those parted lips with her own. When Ginny had kissed her during the ritual, it had been the younger girl controlling the length and depth of the kiss. She had been demanding, but in a playful way. Hermione loved that playfulness between the two of them, but it wasn’t exactly what she was feeling at this moment.

 

This time, it was Hermione leading, her tongue exploring Ginny’s mouth, gently but relentlessly. Ginny moaned happily, bringing her hand up a little higher to toy with Hermione’s breast through her bra. 

 

Ginny’s other hand came out and began slowly unbuttoning the top Hermione was wearing, enjoying that her friend had selected a button down today, giving her all the access she could want as long as Hermione didn’t stop her. 

 

And she didn’t. Instead, she made a throaty sound and began grinding her lower body against Ginny’s, their legs intertwined to offer each of them friction rubbing against the other’s thigh. 

 

Hermione’s kisses moved away from Ginny’s mouth. She wasn’t sure what was driving this, but Merlin, she needed to taste the other girl. She was kissing Ginny’s neck and tracing a finger down to toy with her nipple some more when Ginny pulled back. 

 

A protest rose to her lips until Hermione saw that Ginny was just ripping her shirt off over her head. Now there was a smooth, beautiful expanse of creamy, freckled skin in soft curves before her. Ginny’s Quidditch hardened body was sensuously girly and looked delicious. 

 

Hermione lowered herself down the bed slightly so that her mouth could explore the younger girl’s chest, kissing around the small mounds of her breasts and then licking delicately at her nipples. 

 

Ginny was panting and crying out when the door suddenly slammed open. 

 

“Did you seriously think you could keep out a curse breaker?” Bill asked smugly before his jaw dropped. Directly behind him were Harry and Ron, followed by the twins, all pushing forward until Bill nearly tumbled into the room. 

 

Ron was gaping at them from the doorway. “What the bloody hell are you two doing?” he asked in bafflement. 

 

“What does it look like we were doing?” Ginny replied, irritated that they were interrupted when what Hermione had been doing felt so good. 

 

Hermione swirled her tongue around Ginny’s nipple one more time, making the other girl gasp. Then she rose off the bed, her shirt completely open and one breast pulled out of the bra’s cup. She didn’t even care. Harry took off out of the room, but the four Weasley men seemed utterly stunned as she walked toward them. 

 

She nearly fell into Bill’s arms, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck and pulling his mouth down to hers. Hermione needed him. Or Ginny. Or the twins. Any of them. All of them. She was so needy.

 

Behind her, Ginny was pulling her shirt back on and shouting, “Oi! What is this ?”

 

Hermione wanted to answer, but she couldn’t. If she moved her mouth away from Bill’s, she felt like she might die. She wanted, needed, to suck down every bit of him. Dimly, she heard one of the twins. George, she thought. 

 

“Something is wrong,” he said. “We can feel it through the soulbond. She’s… it’s almost like there is a part of her missing and she’s desperate for one of us to fill it.”

 

Ginny must have given him a look, because George said - or was it Fred? - “Not like that! Well, maybe like that, but I meant she needs to be touching us, interacting with us. Something is draining her and she needs us to keep it from happening.”

 

Yes. Need. Hermione’s full attention was back on Bill. She could feel him, rock hard against her, and her hand moved down to run along his length through his trousers. Bill groaned against her mouth, a desperate sound as he tried to speak, voice ragged. “Hermione, we’ve got to stop this. Merlin, Hermione.” The last was nearly growled as she slid her hands down his pants and ran a thumb over his tip. Bill’s knees almost gave out. 

 

Suddenly there were arms around her from behind, pulling her far enough away that she lost contact with Bill. He sank to the floor breathing hard while Hermione turned and threw herself at the person holding her. 

 

Fred. He shuddered and she realized she had purred his name through the bond. She practically attacked him, tongue in his mouth and hands frenzied all over him. Another body came up behind her but pressed her closer to Fred instead of pulling her away.

 

George . He was kissing the back of her neck and running his hands up and down her sides. Hermione was whispering his name into the bond as well, her need dragging him to her despite the trepidation she could feel from him. 

 

A third set of hands appeared. Ginny. Hermione could feel the twins resisting, but then grudgingly allowing her to stay, sensing that the need was greater than the two of them could handle alone. She didn’t know where Bill had gone, but she wished he hadn’t. 

 

And Ron. He had been in the room, too, hadn’t he? It would feel good to have him nearby even if they weren’t doing anything. And what if they did? She might not have romantic feelings anymore, but there was nothing wrong with a little friends with benefits arrangement, was there?

 

Merlin, what was wrong with her? Hermione could feel concern from both twins now, and see it on Ginny’s face. A voice in the background spoke and she thought it was probably Bill, but all she could focus on were the people pressing against her.

 

“Go,” Fred replied to whatever had been said. “We’ll take care of her.”

 

“Or we’ll send a Patronus,” George added. “If we need St. Mungo’s.”

 

************************

 

Bill was conflicted. He did not want to leave with Hermione in such a state - not to mention the state her attention had left him in. At first, they had been content to let Hermione and Ginny have their time. It was George who had first noticed a shift through the bond and become worried. Something was draining her magically and apparently physically as well. Bill had no idea what could be causing it and he hated not knowing.

 

Still, their meeting with the Minister was important and he certainly wasn’t leaving Harry to face it alone. They had hoped to take Hermione and the twins as well once Ron pointed out that it would be good for them to be seen in public together now that everyone knew about their relationship, but that was clearly not a possibility right now.

 

So it would just be Harry and himself. Perhaps fewer Weasleys would be better anyway, keeping the press focused on Kingsley and Harry. Percy was sitting the luncheon out on that thought and Bill was only going himself because Harry needed someone. 

 

They flooed from the Burrow into the Leaky Cauldron. Bill could see Harry steeling himself before they even stepped out of the floo. He wasn’t wrong in his assumption that they would be mobbed. It seemed everyone in Diagon Alley wanted to speak to Harry and shake his hand, pat him on the back, hug him. 

 

It was a huge relief when a team of Aurors suddenly surrounded them and held back the crowd. A man he vaguely recognized from the battle stepped forward and announced, “Mr. Potter is on his way to an important meeting with the Minister of Magic. We appreciate everyone’s understanding that time is precious for both of them.”

 

With that, they were whisked through the Alley to a small cafe. Its windows were still boarded up, but they were doing a brisk business nonetheless. Bill and Harry were quickly brought to a table set somewhat away from the others. Kingsley was there already, but he stood and gave a short bow to Harry, who somewhat awkwardly returned the gesture.

 

Sitting, Kingsley boomed, “Still the best food in town, even if the menu isn’t yet back to normal. Order whatever you want.” He winked across the room at the workers, including the owner. The look of gratitude on the woman’s face told Bill just how hard business had been and how hard they must be working to make a comeback.

 

They ordered and then began an awkward conversation. Bill was rather worried about this part. It had been agreed that Harry did better without coaching. His natural sincerity was the best advertising they could want - as long as he didn’t say the wrong thing. 

 

“Harry, Bill, I appreciate you both meeting with me today.”

 

“Minister Shacklebolt, It is good to see you,” Harry began.

 

Kingsley beamed. “You as well, young man. You’re looking well.”

 

Harry laughed uncomfortably. “I’m trying to eat a bit more. It was a hard year on the run, you know.”

 

“Oh yes, of course. It was for us all, but you, Hermione, and Ron have done so much for us, Harry. Society owes you a great debt,” Kingsley schmoozed, playing it up for the people around them. 

 

“We didn’t do it to get anything. We just want peace,” Harry said. 

 

“As do I, Harry. As do I,” Kingsley agreed solemnly. Taking a deep breath, he began his choreographed request, “I know that in all fairness, nothing should ever be asked of the three of you again. But Harry, the Ministry could really use…”

 

Kingsley paused and looked around. Everyone was watching them avidly. The Minister smiled around at them and nodded to Bill, who cast a quick Muffliato . There were groans amongst the other diners, which made Kingsley’s lips twitch with the laughter he was holding back. In the interest of maintaining their facade, he leaned forward to Harry and spoke, “That should be enough to imply what we needed. Thank you both.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, still looking uncomfortable. 

 

“This business with the goblins is going to be tricky, I imagine,” Kingsley said.

 

“Yes,” Bill agreed. “We have a plan, but it may be hard to arrange.”

 

Kingsley listened to the plan, nodding along and offering advice here and there. “I believe there are a couple of pieces in the Ministry that we would actually be quite happy to be rid of,” he told them. 

 

“Really?” Harry asked. 

 

“Yes. They might be a little cursed, but the goblins won’t care.”

 

“That’s true,” Bill agreed. “I can take care of that.” He was proud of how unbroken his curse-breaking record was.

 

“Truly, I don’t know how we let Gringotts have you,” Kingsley told him. “If you ever want a change of scenery, the Ministry could use you.”

 

Bill blushed a bit and nodded. It wasn’t something he would do even if he could leave the goblins, but he didn’t need to tell the Minister that. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

 

“Right now we need to get your plan rolling, though. As soon as you’ve talked to Minerva and gotten a look around Hogwarts, would it help if I set up the meeting with the goblins?” Kingsley suggested. “I could attend as well if you think it would help.”

 

“That would be excellent, Kings!” Harry enthused. The two smiled at each other for a moment, with Bill nodding happily as well. That really would make negotiating easier.

 

“Where is the rest of the trio? I thought they would come, too,” Kingsley asked.

 

“We had planned for Hermione and the twins to join us. Now that people know, Ron thought it might be best for them to be seen out and about together,” Bill began. Then he took a bite of his lunch while he thought about how to explain why they weren’t there.

 

Harry stepped in before Bill finished chewing. “Mione wasn’t feeling well. She’s been a bit sick now that we’re trying to eat more.”

 

Kingsley looked concerned. “How are the three of you adjusting?”

 

Harry was quiet for a moment before offering a quick run down. “I’m doing better than I thought I would, really. It’s rough going, but we’ve gotten through worse. Mione is always worrying about everyone else and has several projects she’s starting. You know how she is. Ron’s mourning his dad, but otherwise okay.”

 

“Bill? How are you holding up?”

 

“Things are rough for the whole family, especially with almost losing the twins, too. It’s almost like we’re all in shock, like too many things have happened all at once for us to even feel the grief we should be dealing with.”

 

“Everyone grieves in their own way and their own time. But that wasn’t what I meant,” Kingsley said, staring him down with those soul-searching eyes. “How are you doing, Bill? A lot has fallen on your shoulders very suddenly.”

 

“Oh.” Bill paused. No one beyond Fleur had been all that concerned about his personal well-being. He supposed that was usually Charlie’s job. He sighed, wondering if it was too soon for him to go and talk sense into his brother. “I’m… struggling, honestly. I miss Dad’s guidance. I have no idea how to handle Mum. Everyone else is… there are a lot of challenges for the family right now. And there is so much I don’t know about running a House and I suddenly have two of them.”

 

“Two neglected Houses, at that,” Kingsley said, nodding. “You’ll be in the same boat, Harry. Even the House of Black hasn’t been maintained since Arcturus died in 91. Cygnus was still fighting the court when he died a year later. Arcturus had refused to remove Sirius as heir and had a statement in his will to that effect, much to Cygnus’ irritation.”

 

“I know even less than Bill, I imagine,” Harry confided, not that this was much of a surprise to either man. While the majority of the wizarding world didn’t really understand how different Harry’s upbringing had been, both Kingsley and Bill were familiar. 

 

Kingsley nodded. “I’ll be happy to offer either of you whatever help you might need,” he offered.

 

His tone was kind and helpful, but Bill could see the glimmer in his eye. The Minister of Magic certainly would be happy to help direct four Houses as he saw fit. Bill didn’t have any plans to move against Kingsley, but he was certain they wouldn’t always agree on how to do things. And he had suspicions about Hermione and her planning. 

 

Smiling, Harry said, “We would appreciate that, Kings.” Poor, gullible Harry. They were going to have some talking to do.

 

For a while, Kingsley rambled about the duties of the Houses and their roles within Society. Harry seemed to be growing bored as they finished their meal and Kingsley kept going. When he could get a word in, Bill said, “We appreciate your information, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to go pick up Fleur. And Harry needs to get back to the Burrow to… check on Ginny.”

 

“Ah, things must be going well with the two of you again, eh?” he replied, clapping Harry on the back. Harry nodded, though he looked a tiny bit squeamish to Bill’s eyes. 

 

The three of them stood and left the building after Kingsley muttered, “Shake outside?” 

 

Once outside and standing almost dead center in Diagon Alley, Kingsley boomed, “Thank you for this meeting, Mr. Potter. I believe this is going to work out well for all of us.”

 

Harry’s eyes were a little wide when he replied, “I hope so, Minister. We are very open to these negotiations.” He put enough emphasis on the last word that Bill had to stifle a laugh.

 

Kingsley then swept a small bow to Bill and said, “It was good of you to join us as the Head of House Weasley and Prewett. I look forward to the support of your Houses in the future.”

 

Bill pursed his lips before smiling as was expected. He made sure, however, to let the wolf show through just the tiniest bit when he smiled at Kingsley, watching the older man’s eyes react as Bill said, “Of course, Minister. As long as you are working for the recovery and betterment of wizarding society, I will be happy to support you.”

 

Cameras were flashing all around them and from beyond the border of Aurors holding back the crowd, Bill could hear shouted questions. They were mostly for Kingsley or Harry, but he heard some requests for commentary on the new triad bond and questions about him becoming the Head of two Houses. The three of them ignored everything and enjoyed the small bubble the Aurors created around them as Kingsley headed for the Ministry and they moved to drop Bill at the door to Gringotts and then take Harry back to the floos at The Leaky.

 

Just before they separated at Gringotts, Bill pulled Harry over and whispered, “Send a Patronus if it’s bad. We’ll be there soon, but I’m worried about her.”

 

Harry nodded solemnly and turned to go.

 

“Is there anything you need Fleur and I to bring home?” Bill asked. He was very aware that the two of them were better able to move around Diagon than Harry or the rest of the Trio.

 

Harry half-laughed. “Someone neutral to teach us about being Heads of our Houses?”

 

With that he was gone and Bill was laughing to himself. Perhaps Harry wasn’t quite as gullible as he let on.

Notes:

Expect LOTS OF SMUT next chapter.

So, the upside of this being more of an exploration than something with a definitive outline is that there is a LOT of space to work things in. Have an idea or something you want to see happen? A certain character you want more of or a situation you want to see someone in? Let me know! I can't guarantee I'll use it or that it won't conflict with one of the vague plot points I do have, but I'll work in things where I can. The kiss with Percy and some of the things that happened with Ginny were born of commented wishes.

It feels obvious to me and probably is to you all too, but what do you think is making Hermione so drained? And what's it doing to everyone else involved?

Chapter 10

Notes:

Edit/Update on me: A note as of June 6th, I swear I'm working on the next chapter and it's coming along nicely, but I have badly hurt my wrist. So I can only type at the moment one-handed with my non-dominant hand, so it's slow going. I hope to have the next chapter out by the end of this week, but we'll see. I'm sorry it's taking so long!

 

This chapter has given me fits and one day I almost scrapped the entire thing and went a completely different direction. I think I've finally gotten it right, but if you find anything that doesn't make sense or seems out of place, please let me know! Sometimes things slip past us especially when I'm copying and pasting and rearranging and fitting sections together to make it work.

Lady Winterlight has been an amazing help talking me out of rewriting everything and making things work.

I still don't own Harry Potter or the Weasleys, though I certainly wish I did.

Fred was frightened. When he met George’s eyes across their wife’s shoulders, he could see that fear reflected. Hermione had cried out pitifully when Bill left the room, and she was silently shaking now, clinging to them and to Ginny beside them. The intensity of her need pulsing through the soulbond was getting stronger. 

 

“Please,” Hermione whimpered, though it didn’t seem like she knew quite what she was asking for.

 

“We’re here, Mione,” Ginny told her, moving in front of Fred to kiss her gently. 

 

He couldn’t help the irritation he felt over Ginny being there, but he could feel Hermione calming somewhat as the two girls snogged. He noticed that George was back to kissing Hermione’s neck and running his hands up her sides.

 

“Touch her somehow, Freddie. Our girl needs us,” George said, his mouth not even leaving Hermione’s skin as he spoke. 

 

When their sister had squirmed in, Fred had moved back enough to keep from rubbing against her. Even clothed, that was just weird. “How?” he grumbled. 

 

George rolled his eyes, but before he could speak, Ron was there beside them. He reached a hand through the knot of people to touch Hermione’s arm. When he spoke to Fred, his voice was very soothing. The bond seemed to buzz pleasantly when Ron spoke. “You can touch her without touching Ginny or George. Can all of you move to the bed and let me position you?”

 

Unable to come up with an argument, Fred agreed. They laid Hermione down on the bed, though George, Ginny, and Ron all kept skin contact with her as they did. Perhaps seeing the disgruntled look Fred knew he had on his face, Ron suggested, “Rather than have George at her back, can we let Fred lay there?”

 

Though he looked slightly disappointed, George nodded. “I’ll do whatever makes this work. I must admit I don’t fancy being too close to Ginny either.”

 

Ron laughed softly. “Understandable.”

 

“Hey!” Their sister broke her kiss long enough to shoot them all a dirty look. 

 

“Under the circumstances,” George hastily added. 

 

Ginny grinned at him. “You think I want to be close to any of you? Brothers are the worst.”

 

Fred nuzzled the back of Hermione’s neck, feeling through the bond that she was already suffering the loss of Ginny’s lips against hers. 

 

“Mione?” Ron started. “Can they take your trousers off?”

 

“Yes,” she replied immediately. 

 

Fred had the impression that she would prefer to strip completely. He began pulling her already-open shirt from her shoulders and popped the clasp on her bra. Ginny’s hands were instantly pulling the bra off from the front while George was gently working her trousers off. Her knickers vanished from a non-verbal spell, so Fred couldn’t even say who had handled that.

 

“Gin, turn your body so that you’re angled away from her and up,” Ron instructed. Despite his reddened cheeks and obvious discomfort, Ron physically showed her what he meant, getting Ginny into a position that allowed access to Hermione’s mouth, neck, and breasts but left her abdomen and lower exposed for George. “There you go,” he told them and started toward the door as George began running his hands up and down Hermione’s thighs.

 

“Ron, no,” Hermione begged, reaching out toward his retreating figure. “Please don’t leave me. I need more. I feel like everything is leaving.”

 

“What does that mean?” Ron asked seriously. 

 

“I don’t know how to explain it any better,” George said, “But I can feel what she is trying to describe - and I imagine the feeling is muted for Fred and I. It’s like something is pulling the magical energy and… and life out of her. It’s just draining away.” 

 

Fred felt the surge of fear from all three of them at George’s apt description. Ginny and Ron both looked horrified. 

 

“He’s right. I don’t know why this is happening,” Hermione choked out. “But please, all of you, stay near me and… and do things to me.”

 

Fred badly wanted to tease her for the embarrassment and inability to say the words of what their mouths and fingers would do, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. 

 

“I’ll stay,” Ron said, “but is it enough to just touch your foot or something?” He placed his hand there and faced as much away from the rest of them as he could.

 

Hermione hummed an affirmative, too distracted by Fred nibbling her neck and Ginny pulling a nipple into her mouth to give a real response.

 

Fred smiled against her skin as he slid a hand around to toy with her unoccupied breast. The skin on her back was covered in goosebumps, a feeling that made kissing her up and down even better. 

 

A small flare of jealousy rushed through him as Hermione began to moan, “Yes, George,” and he imagined what his twin was up to between her legs. Of course, if he slid down, he could find out.

 

“Hey, we’re here, too,” Ginny said playfully. “If you’re going to call other people’s names when I’m right in front of you, I guess I’ll have to keep your mouth busy.” 

 

Hermione gave a tiny gasp as the other girl began to aggressively snog her again. The sounds of her moans through the kissing made Fred’s cock harden even more. He pushed against her, enjoying the feel of her naked arse against him, even though he was still dressed. He pressed his hips into her and was gratified to hear her gasp while George grunted slightly with dissatisfaction.

 

His twin looked up and over her body to meet Fred’s eyes. “If you’re going to push her into me, just know that I’ll have to push back.” He gave a wicked grin that Fred knew he matched. 

 

There was a moan from Hermione again as George made good on his suggestion. Fred wasn’t completely sure if he was using his mouth, hand, or both, but it was very clear that whatever he was doing was having an effect. Fred pushed back, driving his cock to rub against her again, wishing he felt comfortable enough to take off his own trousers. Damn Ginny. And Ron, though he supposed the whole situation was as awkward for him as the rest of them.

 

Hermione squirmed between the two of them and began making louder cries as Ginny sucked at her nipples instead of distracting her mouth. He did notice that Hermione wasn’t calling out any names. An idea whipped through him that he immediately communicated to George through their bond. George’s low, slightly evil laugh told Fred he loved the idea. 

 

Of course it wasn’t as easy to communicate to Gin, but he didn’t really want her to win anyway. Still… “Hey Ron - as a somewhat neutral party, can you track which of us she calls out about the most? Bit of a friendly competition.”

 

“That’s not really fair,” Ginny protested. “You guys have the best parts!”

 

“You think her tits aren’t amazing?” Fred asked incredulously.

 

They ignored Hermione’s protesting, “Excuse me, I’m more than just-”

 

“They’re bloody gorgeous, and I suppose she is rather responsive about them, too,” Ginny mused, licking around a nipple like she would the tip of an ice cream cone. Hermione shuddered and whimpered her name.

 

“That’s one for Ginny and one for George from earlier,” Ron said with a grin. He was lightly massaging the foot he was holding, but had otherwise been trying to ignore the girl he had previously loved being ravaged by three of his siblings. “You’re behind, Fred.”

 

“Literally, mate,” Fred responded with a laugh, running his hands down Hermione’s back to cup her bum. Knowing how inexperienced she was, he wasn’t sure how she would react to what he had in mind, but that didn’t deter him.

 

“Do I get a say in this?” Hermione asked.

 

“No,” they all answered in chorus.

 

Hermione gasped as Fred slid one hand between her legs. George was helpfully already holding her open by having a leg between hers, so there was space for Fred to run his hand up into her soaking wet folds. 

 

“My territory, twin-o-mine,” George said huskily. 

 

“Can we share?” he asked innocently. “I just want to do this.” With his finger now coated in her slick juices, he slid it inside her. 

 

“Gods, how am I supposed to know which of you is doing what?” Hermione asked, panting. 

 

“Isn’t guessing part of the fun?” George asked, laughing against her clit and making her scream.

 

“Fred, George,” she moaned, “That’s bloody amazing with both of you…” Hermione trailed off  as Ginny moved up to kiss her.

 

From his angle, Fred realized he could access the rougher part of her vaginal wall by keeping his finger straight and either poking into it or petting lightly rather than the curling one would do from the front. He experimented a bit, finding out the ways that made her pull back from Ginny and cry his name until another finger joined him.

 

Hermione whined at the new feelings of both of them working on her from inside. But Fred felt a little crowded once George added another finger, plus he still had his other plan. While she was gasping Ginny’s name - something about her nipples again, no doubt - and then George’s from the extra stretch he was giving her, Fred pulled out and moved his thoroughly slick finger back along her perineum and to the little rosebud pucker. 

 

“Fred!” she squealed, still gasping but clearly uncertain about the potential intrusion. 

 

“I’m not sure that one counts,” Ron said. 

 

“Definitely not!” Ginny said indignantly. “If he just did what I think he did, he should have asked first if he wanted a good name-call.”

 

“Oi! We never said what reason she was going to call our names,” Fred argued, smiling nonetheless. “Besides, just because it was a surprise doesn’t mean she isn’t going to like it.”

 

His finger was circling then pressing alternately. Enough to keep her stimulated, but really just a tease. With everyone else still and watching Hermione’s face, she turned crimson. Fred smiled as she slowly began moving against him, her body asking for more. 

 

“Fred,” she groaned finally. “Please don’t just tease. I need more.” Her cheeks were flaming but she looked him in the eye over her shoulder anyway. She was gorgeous that way. 

 

“I don’t want to push you too far today, love,” he chuckled. “But Georgie can probably help us tip this over the edge.”

 

“And me,” Ginny emphasized by pinching both of Hermione’s nipples at the same time and making her cry out her name. 

 

With renewed vigor, all three of them attacked Hermione until her moans had turned into steady screams of bliss, chanting their names over and over. 

 

Through the bond, Fred could almost feel her magic filling up as they brought her to completion over and over. When she was finally begging for mercy, the twins’ eyes met again and they both backed off at the same moment. Letting her bask in the afterglow as Ginny kissed her softly. 

 

“Who won?” Fred asked, looking to Ron.

 

“It was a tie,” Ron said. “You and George.”

 

“I’ll take that as my turn for a snog. Winner’s rights and all,” George said. He waited far more patiently for Ginny to move away than Fred knew he would have. 

 

“I told you there was an unfair advantage!” Ginny complained lightheartedly.

 

“Or maybe we’re just better,” Fred said. He was confident that was true.

 

Fred waited impatiently. George’s kiss was slow and gentle with Hermione as well. Fred wasn’t sure how he and Ginny had managed that. He didn’t feel like being gentle at all. Fred was horny as hell and wanted to sink his cock inside her finally. All they needed to do was get rid of Ginny and Ron. Now that her magic was full, he and George should be able to keep her stable.

 

Before he was able to demand his kiss, he felt something strange in the bond again. One moment Hermione was on cloud nine, then she gave a very different kind of moan against George’s kiss and slumped backwards into Fred’s arms. It was all draining away again.

 

“Fuck. How is this not sustaining you, love?” George said, voice filled with worry. 

 

“Don’t know,” she muttered. “Need… I need…”

 

“Charlie is who you need,” Ron said angrily. 

 

Fred balked. “What? She does not.”

 

“I think Ron’s right,” George said quietly. “Him being so far away has to be what’s causing this.”

 

“I’m sure he’s not completely to blame.” Ginny defended. 

 

“Ginny,” Hermione whispered, reaching out for the other girl. “I think I need you.”

 

“Me?” she asked. Even though she was obviously surprised, Fred couldn’t stand her in that moment. He and George were Hermione’s soul bound. If she was struggling, it was the two of them who would be able to help her.

 

“Yes. Need,” Hermione gasped, seemingly unable to say much more. As Ginny moved closer, Hermione was weakly tugging at her jumper as though she wanted it gone. 

 

“The bond!” Ron almost shouted. When everyone’s heads whipped around to look at him, he sheepishly continued, “Sealing the bond between Hermione and Ginny should help.” 

 

“How are they supposed to do that?” Fred asked. His tone was more scathing than he had meant it to be, but he hated the logic he couldn’t dispute that more sealed bonds would help. 

 

“I don’t know exactly,” Ginny fretted before letting her determination shine through, “but we’ll keep trying things until we figure it out.”

 

“Oh, the hardship,” George joked. 

 

It irritated Fred that his twin was completely disregarding his feelings on this. “Fine. What do you want us to do?” 

 

Ginny tilted her head at him. “Leave, preferably, but I guess that may not-“

 

“Need you…” Hermione whined, pulling Ginny closer and tugging her jumper up and over her head. 

 

Fred was standing before he had even thought through what was happening, dropping Hermione unceremoniously to the bed. “Absolutely not! As long as we’re in the room, Ginny keeps her clothes on.”

 

“Then get out,” Hermione said. Her voice was weak but firm. Through the bond, he could tell she absolutely meant it. Very slowly she added, “I need Ginny right now. More sealed bonds.”

 

“I’m not leaving,” Fred asserted. “You need us.”

 

Hermione shook her head. “Not right now. Not as much as…”

 

The way she trailed off mid-sentence, tilting backwards with her eyes rolling back, was disturbing. It also seemed to spur both Ron and George into action. 

 

“Gin, skin on skin contact, now!” Ron ordered as he and George each grabbed one of Fred’s arms.

 

Fred fought them as he argued, “What are you doing?”

 

“Getting you out of here before Hermione passes out because of your stubborn arse,” George growled.

 

*****************

 

George was more furious with Fred than he could ever remember being. As soon as they were out of the room, he jerked his twin away from Ron and against a wall. “What. Is. Wrong. With. You?”

 

“What’s wrong with you ?” Fred yelled back. “That’s our wife!”

 

“I’m well aware of who she is. Do you want her to die? Because I’m pretty sure that’s what will happen if her magical core and physical body both drain completely!” The fear surging through his veins was making George’s words more harsh than usual.

 

“Of course I don’t want her to die! It’s why we need to be in there with her. Ginny needs to understand-”

 

“No, Fred. You have to understand that Hermione isn’t just bonded to us. No matter how much you want her to be. She is everyone’s wife and you and I don’t have any more claim to her than the others.”

 

“That’s not fair!” Fred complained loudly.

 

“What’s not fair is that poor girl having to marry seven siblings to save your sorry arse and then you treating her that way. Treating our brothers and sister this way. We’re all tied together now, Fred - including Hermione to the others.”

 

“Don’t blame that on me! I didn’t ask anyone to do that,” Fred snarled in anger.

 

“No, I did by the choice I made not to let you die. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand to lose you, Fred! You’re my other half. And they love us too much to let us die. We would all do it over again, too,” his twin said sadly. “I just wish we could say thank you in some better way than trying to kill everyone.”

 

Fred stared at him. Much softer now, he said, “I’m not trying to kill everyone. What are you on about?”

“What happens to the rest of us if Hermione is gone, Fred? Would any of us survive the breaking of our Bond with her?” George asked solemnly. His voice was full of disappointment when he said, “Of all the shite I thought we would have to deal with, you being a jealous, possessive arsehole wasn’t one of them.”

 

As George stomped away, Fred leaned back against the wall, all fight gone as he contemplated his twin’s words. 

 

***********************

 

Ron heaved a sigh of relief when Bill and Fleur came out of the floo. “Thank Merlin you’re back!” he cried. 

 

“Where’s ‘Ermione?” Fleur asked, immediately concerned. 

 

“She’s in the bedroom with Ginny,” Fred said, his voice a little sulky. 

 

“Is she doing better then?” Bill asked, relief clear in his tone.

 

“No,” Harry said, sounding irritated. “But these gits won’t be in the room at the same time Ginny is naked and Gin needs to seal her bond with Mione.”

 

“Like you would go in there with your sister naked either,” Fred huffed. George looked worried, whether it was about Hermione or his twin was hard to say.

 

Harry, though, looked upset and embarrassed, but still determined. “I might not want to, but if Mione needed me, I would be there no matter how I see her or Gin.”

 

In a blatant attempt to move past this argument, Bill searched for more information. “You said Ginny wants to seal their bond?”

 

“Yes. We think that the more sealed bonds Hermione has, the better off she’ll be,” Ron explained. 

 

“Plus I think Gin was a bit put out about being interrupted earlier,” George added.

 

“Hermione’s worse than she was earlier, Bill. George says the bond keeps draining her magical core. She almost passed out earlier, too,” Harry stated. “I think it’s Charlie. We all do, really. Something about him being so far away is draining her magic away and the only thing that keeps it at bay is connecting with the rest of you.”

 

“But even that isn’t enough,” Ron said. He was so worried he could barely think straight. No solution was going to work with Charlie in Romania.

 

“Beel, you weel ‘ave to go get ‘im. I told you ‘e was too stubborn to come back before she needed ‘im,” Fleur told her husband, shaking her head.

 

George frowned, but nodded. “Hermione needs you, too, but I think she would benefit more from you getting Charlie here as soon as possible.”

 

“She doesn’t need that arsehole,” Fred grumbled. “He left her like this. He doesn’t deserve her.”

 

“Whether he deserves her or not, her magic needs his,” Bill snapped. “I”ll go. I’ll apparate to my office and use emergency portkeys. I should be back within the hour.”

 

“I weel stay ‘ere and try to make the children get along to ‘elp our wife,” Fleur told him before they kissed goodbye. 

 

Ron was still dumbfounded by Fleur’s friendly disposition toward Hermione. But he was also grateful for it as he could see the two women becoming fast friends and he knew it would be good for both of them. It certainly helped with the conflict Bill obviously felt, too. Hermione didn’t need him constantly pulling away from her as well.

 

Bill disappeared back through the floo and Fleur looked around at them. Harry and Ron were standing warily near the bedroom door. Fred seemed far more contrite since George laid into him, but Ron wasn’t taking any chances and he knew Harry felt the same. George was just hovering nearby. Ron suspected he was torn, wanting to go back in to Hermione but not daring to leave Fred unattended.

 

Fleur shook her head. “I do not suppose you boys ‘ave made any food?”

 

It was nice to have someone taking charge. Growing up with his Mum meant that they all functioned a little better with someone taking control of a group situation. Ron could see the twins bristling a bit, but he was thrilled.

 

“No,” George told her. “We’ve been focused on Hermione.”

 

“Well, there are other ‘ungers that weel need to be ‘andled. Come ‘elp me,” Fleur said, efficiently herding them all to the kitchen and assigning them jobs for a complicated meal. Ron heaved a sigh of relief at how busy this would keep them.

 

*****************

 

Ginny was almost scared once the boys had all left the room. What if she wasn’t enough to meet Hermione’s needs? Especially right now with her half collapsed. She tossed her worries aside along with her jumper and pressed her naked upper half to Hermione’s, kissing her for all she was worth.

 

“We’re going to seal our bond, Hermione. I’ll do whatever you need.”

 

Her friend’s eyes flickered open and she kissed back as though she would die without it. Ginny dismissed the thought that she might and focused on the way Hermione’s soft lips were moving against her own. Her hands, meanwhile, were sliding downward. Hermione was too skinny after her time on the run, but Ginny still saw her as beautiful, despite all the sharp angles of her bones. They would get her back to a healthier place as time went on. For now, she would learn and worship this body as it was.

 

Hermione moaned and begged for more contact as Ginny slid her hands across the soft skin of her tummy. There had been plenty of time already to focus on her breasts. As much as Ginny loved them, she had another goal in mind now. She almost felt guilty taking advantage of Hermione’s need, but she also wanted the damn bond sealed. And it really would help her wife.

 

Of course at this moment, Hermione’s complaints weren’t about wanting her to stop or slow down. “Gin, if you don’t touch me, I’ll go mad. Please,” she whined.

 

The hand Hermione was begging for hovered just over her pussy now. Ginny had to admit that she loved hearing Hermione beg. Her other hand was running gently through the hair on Hermione’s mound, driving the older girl crazy with lust. Looking into her friend’s eyes, she smiled at the realization that Hermione was okay enough now for some playfulness.

 

“But Mione, you haven’t even bothered to lift up my skirt and see my pretty knickers. Why would I do this for you if you don’t care about me?” Ginny replied, tone innocent.

 

In the next moment, there was a flying sensation as Hermione wrapped her magic around Ginny and flipped them so that she was on top. It was such a surprise that Ginny squealed and laughed. Then she gasped at the grin on her friend’s face as she rose up above her and, with added strength from her magic, ripped Ginny’s skirt in half and sent it soaring across the room. 

 

“You’re right,” Hermione said triumphantly. “Those are very pretty knickers. I’m glad I got to see them before they’re gone.”

 

“What-”

 

Hermione laughed as the knickers disappeared. Ginny really couldn’t complain since she had vanished Hermione’s earlier, but she had really enjoyed the light green against black contrast of that pair.

 

“I really liked those!” Ginny complained as she fought against Hermione. “You owe me a shopping trip, witch!”

 

“Oh Gods, shopping?” Hermione looked so genuinely horrified that Ginny couldn’t help but laugh. And take advantage of the situation to slide her fingers along Hermione’s stomach and up to her chest, thoroughly distracting her from more magic.

 

“You have to buy me a skirt, too.”

 

“We could mend that one back together,” Hermione told her. 

 

“Absolutely not. It will never be the same,” Ginny argued as she managed to maneuver her legs out from under Hermione so that she could raise up and take a nipple into her mouth. 

 

Whatever argument Hermione had intended to make was immediately lost in a moan and the neediness that had backed off briefly seemed to have returned. Ginny could see it in her eyes. This wasn’t just lust driving the pleas that fell from Hermione’s lips next. It was something deeper, something magical. 

 

Ginny wasn’t sure how the bonding between two girls was supposed to work. She had done what research she could. She knew the right things to stay to start the bonding process and what needed to be said back, but… there was nothing to be found about what happened beyond words if there was no cock involved. Would it be when one of them got off? Both? Did it have to happen at the same time? She really didn’t know and Bill hadn’t been willing to talk to her about it. She was going to need to have a serious talk with all her brothers about getting over the fact that she was a woman and part of their marriage.

 

But she would have to put all that aside for now and just follow her instincts. Both those instincts and her desires were pushing her to explore Hermione more deeply than she had before. 

 

Quite deep, Ginny thought with a grin. She finally dipped her fingers down between Hermione’s legs and slid them across the dripping wet slit there. Ginny was done with teasing at this point, though. As Hermione moaned and rubbed herself against her friend’s touch, Ginny went straight from a gentle caress to thrusting a finger inside her.

 

Hermione cried out. “Merlin, Ginny. I’ll be done before I ever get to touch you!”

 

“Let me tell you a secret. We’re both girls. Orgasms don’t stop us and we can go all night and day if we want to. No such thing as done.” Ginny grinned as she imparted her favorite part of having girls as partners.

 

As she talked, she had added a second finger to Hermione’s tight quim. The other girl was gasping and writhing beneath her. “Merlin, you’re tight,” Ginny told her. “If I didn’t know that you’ve been with three of my brothers now, I would assume you were still a virgin.”

 

“Just… one… inside me,” Hermione panted. “Fred and George… we’ll need to… girl talk.”

 

“Minx! I knew you were holding back!” Ginny laughed, but distracted Hermione from further conversation by increasing the rhythm she had established with her fingers and began to strew kisses down her belly at the same time. 

 

Hermione was moaning even before Ginny brought her mouth down and tasted her for the first time. “Yes, pleeeease,” she begged. “I need more.”

 

“Do you need our bond?” Ginny asked, suddenly stopping all her ministrations and speaking very seriously.

 

“Yes, Gods yes,” Hermione gasped.

 

“Yes, you need…?” Ginny prompted.

 

“Yes, I need our bond. I want it. Please, Ginny.”

 

Ginny smiled as she felt their magic flaring, beginning the official process of sealing the bond.“I need our bond as well, Hermione. I want it. And I want you.”

 

The magic flared again and Ginny almost felt it flowing through her and dancing on her tongue as she touched Hermione again, thrusting her fingers and her tongue at the same time. Hermione screamed her pleasure at the sudden movement again and her hands flailed wildly toward Ginny as she tried to reach out and return some of the feelings she was experiencing. 

 

Laughing, Ginny swung her body around and up so that Hermione could touch her as well, shuddering when the other girl’s inexperienced hands fumbled so sweetly along her sex. Now she was sure that magic was at play, because she felt it flowing from Hermione’s fingertips as well. Not that she wouldn’t have enjoyed whatever Hermione did anyway, but this… it felt like tiny sparks making their way through her, intensifying the sensitivity and bringing her as close as she knew Hermione must be. 

 

With her own body spiraling, Ginny began a staccato beat against Hermione’s clit, curling her fingers to hit just the right spot inside, as well. To her surprise, despite her cries, Hermione kept pace with her fingers also. When the older girl suddenly screamed and her juices gushed over Ginny’s chin, she came apart as well. 

 

Normally Ginny liked to keep going to prolong her partner’s orgasm, but this time she couldn’t manage it. Hers had been too extreme. It took more time than she had ever imagined a recovery taking before she could move her body around and pull Hermione close. 

 

“That was… I really didn’t know what to expect,” Hermione started, “But I think - no, I know I want more girl time in the future.” 

 

She giggled helplessly and it was such an addictive sound that Ginny was soon giggling with her. Then they began kissing again. Sweet, soft kisses at first, though exploring in a different way as they tasted themselves on each other’s mouths. 

 

“Honestly, Mione, I’ve enjoyed all the women I’ve experimented with, but that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

 

Hermione blinked, then laughed. “I won’t tell Harry.”

 

Ginny gasped and then couldn’t stop her own laughter until Hermione covered her mouth, crushing into it. When she pulled back, Ginny noticed that her wife’s eyes were getting wild again. 

 

“You did mean it that girls can go all night, right?” Hermione asked, pressing her body close and clinging to Ginny as she had at the beginning. 

 

“As long as you can manage to stay awake for it,” Ginny replied with a laugh, but she was worried. The look in Hermione’s eyes and the fact that it had only been about 10 minutes since they finished bonding was a concern. 

 

*******************

 

The magic that surged through them brought both Fred and George to their knees in the kitchen floor, crying out in ecstasy. Fred was embarrassed by the way Harry and Ron were staring at them, but then Ron ran out of the room and Harry looked to Fleur. To Fred’s surprise, his sister-in-law raised her eyebrows before telling them she would handle the rest of the preparations and going back to what she had been doing. The bonding magic didn’t seem to phase Fleur at all.

 

After scourgifying the mess in his pants, Fred started for the bedroom Hermione was in, shaking George off as he tried to pull him back. He knew his twin was going to say they should leave the two girls alone for a while longer, that they might not be done. But Fred felt strongly that they should go in now. He could feel her need pulsating inside him and he had to help.

 

“Please, George. I know I was wrong before. I’m not planning to start anything now, but don’t you feel how she needs us?” he asked.

 

George paused, undoubtedly checking in with the bond. At last, he nodded and followed behind as Fred made his way to the door.

 

As they entered the room, he felt an overwhelmingly sensual magic energy wash over him. Fred suddenly wasn’t as bothered about seeing his little sister naked as he had been earlier. All he could focus on was their gorgeous wife practically glowing with magic. 

 

George made a sound behind him, halfway between a growl and a moan. He could feel through the bond that Georgie was overcome by his own desperate need for Hermione. Fred wasn’t sure, actually, if the need came from themselves or from her, but it ultimately didn’t matter. 

 

As they approached the bed, Fred had a moment of trepidation. He opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione spoke first.

 

“She’ll be staying,” Hermione said in a tone that made it clear her word was final on this. “I want you to stay, too. I need all of you.”

 

“I’m okay with her being here,” Fred said sincerely, “I’m sorry I was such a git about it earlier. It’s still… uncomfortable, but I am here for anything you need.”

 

George agreed, “You know I will always give you whatever I can. And it is a privilege to help you when it’s exactly what I want, too.”

 

“Thank you both,” Hermione replied, blushing but smiling with relief. “Now get over here!”

 

As they began to approach the bed, she held up her hand. “No clothes allowed.”

 

George started stripping as he continued closer. Fred could see Hermione’s desperate eyes watching George as Ginny focused her attention back on Hermione, nuzzling into the right side of her neck. Fred realized he was starting to get hard again and started taking off his own shirt and trousers. 

 

As George slid along her left side, his hand started to roam up her legs, moving to her inner thigh. Then he paused, his eyes locked with Hermione’s. “Do you want this, love?” George asked.

 

Hermione bit her lip. She seemed almost shy when she asked, “Will you be upset if I say no? If I want you naked against me but not for sex?”

 

Fred saw Ginny’s lips pout, but George pulled his hand away and positioned himself at her side in a snuggling hug, saying, “Anything you need, remember?”

 

The look Hermione gave him in return was enough for Fred to feel his stomach flip even though it was aimed at his twin instead of himself. He noticed, too, that Ginny’s pout had relaxed into a close look at Hermione and a mouthed “Thank you” to George. Fred could feel the draining tension in the bond easing.

 

“And you, Fred?” Hermione asked. He could tell she was more worried about his reaction to the request.

 

Swallowing his desire as best he could, he said, “I would be lying if I said I don’t want you right now, but I would never force myself on you, love.”

 

“I want that, too,” she said quietly. “But I think, for that, I want more privacy than I can handle at the moment.”

 

Fred couldn’t help the way his heart skipped a beat at the look in her eyes. Until she said it, he hadn’t even thought about how much it would mean to him, to both of them, to be alone for that. Well, maybe George. The three of them should talk about it. He couldn’t quite imagine doing things with her without his twin, but… there was a certain longing in his soul to have his own bond with her, just the two of them. 

 

That it was even a possibility gave him much to think about as he snuggled into the pile around Hermione and heard her contented sigh. 

 

Notes:

I tried so hard to make it work in this one, but NEXT chapter, there will be Charlie. Truly.

Chapter 11

Notes:

FINALLY! I hate that it has taken me this long to get a new chapter ready. I had badly hurt my right wrist and was supposed to rest it extensively. Plus using it hurt! So all typing was one-handed with my non-dominant hand and... it was just slow going. THEN. A kid spilled water all over my laptop as well. It has now dried out and, with some work-arounds, is more or less functional again.

So. I am better. My laptop is better. This chapter is sorted and I sincerely hope (and expect) that the next one will not take so long.

I thank my alphabet LadyWinterLight for her help. Omnenomnom also helped me on this one with getting the smut right when I was struggling. OH yes. There is definitely smut ahead!

I am not JK Rowling and therefore most unfortunately do not own Harry Potter, Hermione, the Weasleys, or any of the rest of the wonderful Wizarding World.

Even setting up your own emergency portkey to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, you could only appear in the main office building in a special room used for transport. Bill was glad he had been through this process more than once or he would have been very alarmed by the burly dragon keeper drawing a wand on him when he pulled himself off the floor. Even after years of international portkeying, it was almost impossible to stay upright on a jump that far.

 

The man shouted at him in Romanian. He understood a few of the words, but he knew the easiest response was to hold his hands up, point to his hair, and say “Charlie.” The man nodded, but looked worried in a way that instantly made Bill nervous. “Mikal?” he asked next, figuring that if Charlie wasn’t around for some reason, the Director was the next person he should talk to. 

 

The man nodded and started to take him down a long hall that Bill knew from past visits included the office of the Director. Mikal burst out of his office before they could take more than a few steps. His grey-streaked dark hair was disheveled and his eyes had a tight look that suggested something wasn’t going well. The tall, weathered man was as calm as ever beyond the haste of his movements, though his brows shot up when he recognized Bill.

 

“Has he contacted you?” the older man asked gruffly. Mikal always sounded gruff, but there was an urgency in his tone.

 

“Charlie?” Bill asked. At the slight nod, he admitted, “No, but because of… a ritual we did, I was worried about him.”

 

Mikal swore aggressively in what sounded like several different languages. Bill felt his heart clenching in worry for his brother.

 

“Where is he?” Bill asked.

 

Everyone around him shook their heads. “We don’t know,” Mikal barked. “Only just found out he left the Med Building last night. Against Healer’s orders, of course.”

 

Bill swore himself now. “Why was he in the Med Building?” He knew that anyone staying overnight was in bad shape. Could he not keep out of the dragons’ fire for five minutes after arriving?

 

The Director narrowed his eyes. “The boy fell out of the floo and couldn’t stand. Don’t know how he made it all the way here in the shape he was in. Healer isn’t sure how he left either. Said Charlie was barely responsive when they were testing him. Magical core severely drained. Physical pain from the lightest touch.”

 

Bill could feel the horror piling on with each new thing Mikal told him. “He couldn’t have gotten far in that condition, could he?” 

 

“Wouldn’t think so. What ritual?”

 

The subject change was so abrupt, Bill almost answered without thinking. Swallowing, he wondered what he could tell Charlie’s boss. There weren’t any reporters beating down doors in the backwoods of Romania, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t communicate with the rest of the world.

 

Mikal would probably know eventually. Charlie would need to let him in on his changed family situation in order to have more visits home to see Hermione. Fighting his internal desire to keep this entirely to themselves, Bill pulled Mikal aside, cast a muffliato, and said, “It was from our Family Legacies, to bind us all - 7 siblings - to a woman as wife to keep two of our brothers from dying.”

 

The older man blinked at him a couple of times before responding. “The bond was sealed? To this wife?”

 

“I… some of us…”

 

“Not Charlie,” Mikal said it like a curse. “Children should not play with magic they don’t understand. Or go thousands of miles away without finishing what they start.”

 

“We couldn’t let them die,” Bill defended, not sure why he felt so much like a scolded schoolboy.

 

“Exchanging for this brother is okay?” Mikal asked, fury in his voice.

 

“No!” Bill’s guilt was crushing. How had he not realized that Charlie wouldn’t be able to safely travel so far away with the bond unsealed? “I didn’t-”

 

“Charlie’s dragons are at the ward line. Calla’s going crazy!” a young man cried as he ran into the building.

 

“He with them?” Mikal asked.

 

“No, sir,” the man said, “but Devan thinks we should follow them.”

 

Mikal started swearing again. “Fine. But only Devan and Alex,” he finally commanded.

 

“Follow the dragons?” Bill asked, “Will they find Charlie?”

 

“Hope so. He’s not at his cabin or anywhere near base. Calla’s a calm one usually. Wouldn’t be in distress for no reason.”

 

“I want to go with them. To find him,” Bill begged. 

 

Mikal just shook his head. “One idiot Weasley trying to kill himself is enough.”

Bill paced, ignoring everyone who offered to take him to the Mess Hall or Charlie’s cabin or anywhere that wasn’t right at the ward line where he could watch. It felt like hours before he saw the two brooms coming toward them with the dragon, Calla flaming behind them. One of the brooms was lagging considerably more than it had when it left. 

 

“Why is the dragon chasing them?” Bill asked, worry making his tone sharp.

 

The young man who had run in earlier answered, “Dragon instincts. Alex’s broom is too slow for one person. He’s got Charlie on with him, betcha. So Calla was smart enough to know she couldn’t help Charlie, but still too much a dragon to let go of something that’s hers without a fight.”

 

The breath caught in Bill’s throat as the slower broom barely missed catching fire. They were almost to the wards and he breathed a sigh of relief when they crossed over, a wall of fire blanketing the air in front of them where it hit the ward. 

 

Bill rushed over as the Healer began casting diagnostics over Charlie. His brother was so pale he was almost translucent. The contrast between his skin tone and the freckles and scars was jarring. Charlie didn’t look like he was breathing anymore. Bill glanced up to see what the Healer’s spells were saying. 

 

His heart felt like it was going to stop when he saw that Charlie’s magical core was almost completely depleted. His vital signs were barely there. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I should have come to get you as soon as you left.”

 

Mikal clamped a hand down on Bill’s shoulder. “You have a portkey to this wife?”

 

Bill looked up at him, startled. “Yes. I do.”

 

“Get him there, now. Nothing Healer can do for him will help the way the wife will,” Mikal commanded.

 

As Bill scrambled to pull out the portkey and place it on Charlie’s chest, Mikal said, “When he is alive enough to hear, tell the idiot he is not welcome again unless he brings his wife with him.”

 

*******************************

 

There were voices around him, but Charlie felt too woozy to focus. He didn’t know how he had gotten to a place with voices. The last thing he remembered was Calla nudging him where he had fallen. It was hard to explain, even to himself, what he was doing out in the fields with her. The excruciating pain had been mind-numbing and he just knew he needed connection. The dragons were all he had.

 

Had the Healer found him and drug him back to the Med Building? Or had he gone round the bend and was hearing dragons talking now? Charlie didn’t want to open his eyes to see. His heart hurt too much. He didn’t want to think about going on breathing and trying to function in the human world. 

 

His breathing was almost as labored as it had been when he passed out. Though this time, he thought it might be more from the weight on his chest. There was something there. Charlie thought about moving his arms to find out what, but they still felt like dead weights. 

 

Scents began to permeate his foggy mind, but he was sure he must be imagining things. The things he was smelling told him he was home, and that Hermione was nearby, but that couldn’t be. He didn’t expect he would ever see her again.

 

A great, shuddering sob built up inside him, and he hurt too much to keep it in. As soon as his body began shaking, wetness on his cheeks, and the sounds tearing from his throat, there were hands on him. Small and gentle, he felt someone stroking his hair and rubbing the tears from his face. 

 

That voice. He was sure it was her saying his name, begging him to come back to her, and it just made his anguish more intense. 

 

A sudden slap hit his cheek, hard, and he heard the voice shriek, “Ronald Bilius Weasley! Why would you do that?”

 

“The git needs to wake up. He nearly fucking killed you,” Ron replied.

 

Fred added, “He needs to get hold of himself and give you the help you need. You hear that, wanker? Get up!”

 

“Like that’s going to work,” George said.

 

Charlie opened his eyes and gazed blearily around one of the bedrooms of the Burrow. “How?” he tried to say, but his throat was so raw he barely made a sound.

 

“Holy shite - it actually did work!” Fred exclaimed, laughing. 

 

Hermione rolled her eyes at Fred as she handed Charlie a glass of water and he drank it thankfully. It was only then that he realized she had a sheet pulled up just above her breasts but her back, facing him as she set the water glass back on the bedside table, was bare. He could see her bones clearly, her tiny frame even smaller thanks to months without a steady source of food. Worry surged through him but he was distracted by the sudden realization that he wasn’t wearing anything either.

 

Clearing his throat as best he could, Charlie tried to squeeze all of his questions together. “How did I get here? What did you mean about someone dying? Why…” he took a deep gulp of air, “Why are Hermione and I naked?”

 

Bill sat down on the bed next to him, opposite from Hermione. She reached her hand over and held onto Bill as he began explaining. “Going so far away with the bond unsealed came very close to killing both of you.”

 

“Both of us?” Charlie echoed faintly, feeling his heart clench with the realization that he had hurt Hermione. Had it been as painful for her as what he went through? Shame washed through him.

 

“The two of you are naked because skin on skin contact helps the unsealed bonds connect. You were unconscious when we got here and the Healer at the Reserve said the only thing that would help you was your wife.”

 

He knew he was processing things far too slowly - everything still ached to a point of distraction and he could barely focus. “So I’m conscious now because we’ve been near each other naked?”  Charlie was sure he was going to stop breathing if the answer was yes.

 

“Cuddling, actually,” Ginny said from the end of the bed, smirking at him. "It was almost cute."

 

Charlie felt a little dizzy with that knowledge. At the same time, he found himself fervently wishing he had been awake for it. He wished he remembered the feel of her skin against his. All he could feel right now was the heat of his blush. His skin was a brilliant shade of red beneath the freckles.

 

Merlin, he needed to feel her touch so badly his head spun. That everyone knew it - that she knew it, and was now obligated to do something about it - made his chest hurt.

 

“And now we’re going to clear out so the two of you can seal your bond,” George said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

 

“We’re… what?” Charlie was aware that all the blood had drained from his face. Shite, no. He wouldn’t force her to be with him when she didn’t want to be and… Merlin, he wanted all this pain to stop. He usually had what was considered a high pain tolerance, but throw in all this emotional stuff and he felt so helpless and out of control.

 

A small hand appeared on his chest. He knew she wasn’t pressing hard, but the feel of her against him in any capacity left him breathless. Charlie’s head whipped to her, eyes locked immediately to hers despite his embarrassment.

 

“They are all leaving. You and I are doing whatever it takes to seal this bond before it kills us,” she told him softly. 

 

Sealing the bond meant sex. Even with his head pounding, he knew that. Charlie tried not to panic, but he had a feeling he was failing as his big brother clapped him on the shoulder on his way toward the door, chuckling as he herded the others out. He felt Bill’s magic surge outside the door and saw it glowing faintly with whatever locking and warding spells his brother had seen fit to use to ensure their privacy. 

 

Not that they should need privacy. He couldn’t let her give herself to him just because she had to agree to some ritual. He wouldn’t let her and he didn’t give a shite if it killed him. 

 

He was going to tell her so, too. Only at that moment, her hands turned his face to hers and she pressed her lips against his. Her body - her soft naked body - melted against his side as he reflexively pulled her in close. Charlie groaned so deeply it felt like it was directly from his soul. Fuck. 

 

This wasn’t their first kiss, but it was the first since the ritual. Hermione had not begun with the gentle and tentative probing he had that night. Her kiss was full of all the intensity of the last few days of need . Her lips molded to his, demanding he move against her. No matter his intent, Charlie couldn’t make himself respond any other way. The tease of those lips caressing his, her tongue pushing its way into his mouth, had him unable to think, only respond.

 

He might have told himself he would be noble and not allow anything she would regret, but Charlie had never before realized how weak he was in the face of need like this. Her scent surrounded him, intoxicating what little of his mind was even trying to hold back. He couldn’t pull back from her to even try and speak the words that would end this bliss. He knew he should, but he couldn’t. 

 

All he could do was respond to Hermione’s insistent mouth against his. The little pants and moans she was making into his mouth as her body began to rub more insistently against his were making Charlie crazy.  The sheet in front of him was tenting outrageously. He would have felt embarrassed by it if there had been time. 

 

There wasn’t. Hermione reached a hand over without breaking contact from his mouth and flung the sheet off of him, landing somewhere down the bed and exposing him thoroughly. Charlie grunted into the kiss, but then gasped when she swung a leg over his body. She didn’t try to slide onto his cock - thank Merlin - but she slid along it, allowing him to feel exactly how wet she was while she moaned at the soft steely feel of him. 

 

He heard her moan turn to a gasp as she rode back up along him. Charlie knew the moment she began realizing just how large he was. It was what broke the kiss, of course, as she looked slowly down his body. He half sat up, propped on his elbows, as her eyes raked across his muscled torso and followed the trail of curly red hair down from his belly button. 

 

There wasn’t far to follow before the hair was obscured from view. Hermione’s eyes widened as she really took it in. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, waiting for the rejection he knew would come. He had intimidated nearly every woman he had been involved with.

 

Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes, then started laughing. “All the things you could apologize for and the size of your cock is the one you pick?” 

 

He was trying to think of an answer, wishing something witty and funny would come to him so he could make her laugh again, when she sobered and reached her hand to touch him. She hovered just over his cock, her hand small and delicate next to him. Hermione looked up at him and asked, “Could I just…"

 

Swallowing hard, Charlie shook his head. “If you touch me, I can’t… I don’t know if I would be able to stop myself-”

 

“I trust you.”

 

Her eyes didn’t leave his, but neither did her hand move away. It was making his cock twitch, the longing to feel her hand around as much of him as she could manage. Closing his eyes to try and distance himself, Charlie said, “I appreciate your trust, but this… please, Hermione. I want… but I’m trying not to…”

 

“Trying not to what?” she asked. 

 

Her body was still pressed against him. He could feel how soaking wet her core was as it pressed against his base, his cock standing tall and proud between them. He had to fight off the hysterical urge to either laugh or cry at the absurdity of having this conversation sitting together like this.

 

Gathering himself, Charlie tried to find the words he needed. “We’re not sealing the bond,” he blurted out. 

 

The witch on his lap pursed her lips. “Yes, we are,” she said firmly.

 

“You can’t want me,” he protested. "Want this !"

 

“I think you’re in enough trouble without telling me what I can and can’t want,” Hermione told him angrily. Then she confused him with a mischievous smile. “Besides, I think you can feel exactly how much I want you.” She moved her hips forward, grinding into him. Charlie groaned, throwing his head back at how slick she was against him. 

 

He meant to speak, but couldn’t manage it. Hermione’s eyes narrowed at him, then her hand closed the short distance to his cock. Her wrist was loose as she let her fingers glide down his length and swirl slowly around him. Charlie was bracing himself to keep from pushing his body up into her hand. He wanted… Merlin . He gasped as she gripped him just below the head, running her thumb experimentally around the tip as she brought her other hand to meet the first. 

 

“I can barely hold you all the way around even with both hands,” she mused. 

 

He was surprised that her voice didn’t hold fear or any kind of condemnation, more something like awe. She was inspecting his dick in a way that made Charlie shudder. He couldn’t read the look in her eyes. Fear spiked through him, the rejection he expected burning in his gut. He had to say something.

 

“It’s… I know it’s too much. I’m not… I don’t know why you’re going along with this,” he breathed, “But you don't have to fake it. I won’t… You don’t have to pretend you want me, Hermione. Even if we seal the bond-”

 

“There is no ‘if’ Charlie. We’re sealing the bond. I want to and Merlin knows we both need to. The whole family needs us to do it.”

 

Charlie felt his face flame. He took several quick breaths to try and calm himself. The family did need him to do this. It wasn’t about him. The idea of being with her when she didn’t want him felt like it was going to crush him, but Charlie pushed the emotions down and focused on what was needed. It wasn’t like he could stop the way his body responded to her anyway, so things from his side would be easy. She could probably get him off with just what she was already doing if she wanted. “Maybe you don’t have to actually… use me.”

 

“Do you truly believe I don’t want to? Really, Charlie?” she asked. Her eyes held concern and something else.

 

 He couldn't keep the edge out of his voice when he responded bitterly. "Everyone wants it until they actually try. Then it's nothing but pain and unpleasantness and they leave." Charlie closed his eyes. He had no illusions about his size. He grew up with five brothers and then the boys in his dorm had never shut up about it. More girls than he could count had wanted a go at the ‘legend’ in his pants. It had been mortifying - especially when they were scared off at the sight of it or, worse, insisted on trying, then left when it hurt too much. “I’ll be gentle, whatever we have to do. I’m not going to use you and-” 

 

He was cut off by a kiss so fierce it almost bowled him over. Charlie felt waves of need crash over him, making it nearly impossible to hold himself back. His desire was overwhelming, and he felt his hands rise of their own volition, running up to her breasts. 

 

“Yes,” she whispered into his kiss, making Charlie’s hands tug teasingly at her nipples and pinch them gently. He was losing the battle with his body. 

 

She pulled away from his lips and began kissing across his jaw, to suck on his ear and then work her way down his neck and along his shoulder. Charlie wanted to throw his head back and just let the bliss of having her so close roll over him. Every moment he meant to stop, but he kept responding, kept… thrusting. He couldn’t help himself. She was moving against him and it felt more intimate than anything he had ever experienced.

 

Then she reclaimed his lips and slid her body up so that the very tip of his enormous dick was pressed to her entrance. 

 

“Hermione, don't. You're going to hurt yourse-” he began, but then she was sinking onto him and Charlie entirely lost his ability to speak.

 

“Nnnnnngh,” she hissed as she lowered herself slowly. Barely an inch in, she paused. Her hands were on his shoulders steadying herself and she was breathing carefully. Charlie’s hands automatically came to her hips, holding her in place even while he shook and moaned. 

 

The stretch had to be hurting her. Charlie couldn’t believe how wet she was, but even so, he was too much. In every way, he was too much - too needy, too emotional, too fucking big for such a small witch. 

 

He flexed his arms, pulling her off his cock with a groan. 

 

“What are you-” she started, her cheeks tinting red with anger as she fought him to re-mount his body.

 

“Draga, please, let me get you ready. If… if you’re sure you want to do this, we need to prepare you for it. To make sure I can fit.”

 

“Surely there’s a spell for that?” she asked.

 

Charlie shook his head. “There are spells that help, but nothing that will just do it. I’ve been told the work up is pretty enjoyable anyway.” He took pride in that much. It might be difficult to get his own needs met with anything but hands - usually his own - but he made damn sure any woman who came to him and didn’t run left satisfied in some way.

 

“I need you,” she stated. “Can you feel the magic closing in around us? I… It’s not that I’m not a little… nervous… but what we were doing felt incredible. And I need you now.”

 

She was right, he realized. He could feel the magic baring down on them, an uncomfortable need, manifesting right now as lust, pulling him toward her. Of course, he always felt pulled to her, but he knew this was different.

 

As he was thinking, she took advantage. Before he realized she was moving, Hermione was back over him, this time straight onto his cock. She pressed down to the same depth they had already managed. It was enough to hold his tip in place and Charlie had to bite down on his lip to distract himself from the unexpected caress of her slick silken walls around him. 

 

Hermione yelped just a little at the suddenness of re-stretching, but then relaxed into it, breathing harder than before. “Please,” she begged.

 

Merlin, Charlie didn’t have the willpower to stop her. Whispering, he chanted several spells, smiling in relief when Hermione sighed happily. He wasn’t sure, but he thought they were stronger than usual, the magic pulling them to each other trying to help things along.

 

“That’s so good, Charlie,” she hummed.

 

“Hermione,” he managed to get out her name, but couldn’t say anything else as she shifted, dropping her head to his shoulder and pushing herself down a little more. Charlie cried out at the foreign feeling. It had been years since anyone had really tried to take him, and only one ever had. His head gently rested on Hermione’s, nose buried in her hair as he fought not to come yet. Hermione shivered around him, panting from the effort and clenching in a dizzying way.

 

“It’s much easier with the spells,” she said, her voice somewhere between a moan and a whimper. 

 

“Good. But it would be better if-”

 

Charlie cut off as she suddenly pushed down again and let her pussy swallow him whole, his entire length seated inside her. “Hermione…” He rolled her name out on a long, low moan.

 

Neither of them moved for a long moment, just allowing time to adjust and catch their breath. He wanted to say something, but he was fairly certain there wasn’t enough blood left in his brain to string words together. Finally, she patted his chest, a signal it seemed, to let her move. Charlie pulled his top half back to let her head up, then groaned when the slight movement shifted them both and she gripped around him. 

 

Hermione let out a low chuckle at the helpless sound he made. “Do I have your attention?” she asked, staring him straight in the eyes. He could get lost in her beautiful eyes.

 

“Undivided,” he assured, though he wasn’t actually sure if he could be counted on to pay attention to words.

 

“You have a lot to answer for, Charles Weasley.” Hermione punctuated the statement by squeezing her internal muscles and Charlie gasped her name as he saw stars for a moment.

 

“I’m s...sorry,” he stammered, trying to stay in control as she leaned forward to stare more deeply into his eyes, bringing her lips inches from his own. The movement made her muscles clamp down on him again and Charlie wondered if he was going to survive this perfect torture.

 

“I don’t know - yet - what was going on in your head when you left, but beyond your understanding that it wasn’t okay, it’s not the most important thing right now.” He knew she could see his confusion, but she didn’t give him time to ask. Her voice sounded powerful as she said, “I want to seal our bond, Charlie. Do you want this?”

 

He looked away. Pain radiated through him as he pushed words out, “You didn’t deserve this, Hermione. I should never have let myself-”

 

Pained whimpers made him stop talking. He froze, glancing down to where their bodies joined. He knew he was just going to hurt her. An angry sound escaped Hermione and she grabbed him by the chin to pull his eyes back to hers. “ That is not the part of you that is hurting me. You don’t want me,” she stated, each word sounding as though it ached, her breath catching at the end. 

 

Charlie couldn’t help the confusion he felt. Did she really think he didn’t want her? Staring into her eyes as she said he didn’t made him feel like something was starting to rip out of him, much like he had felt in Romania, only this was more intentional. Something deep inside made the words pour out of him before whatever was tearing away could leave him. 

 

“I want you. Merlin, I need you! I have for months, since Bill’s wedding. It’s not fair to you. I know it’s not. But I couldn’t help but fall for you and now… now you have no choice.”

 

Hermione put her hands on either side of his face. “Charlie, I had a choice and I chose this. I would choose it again.” Her voice lowered but the look she gave him was steady. “I would choose you again, Charlie. I want this. I need it… you. Please.”

 

He searched her eyes as he tried to remember how to breathe through the magic that was rising around them. “I want you, too, Hermione. I choose you.”

 

She let out a tiny moan as Charlie pulled her upper body close and kissed her, no longer holding back. His cock twitched, coming back to life. The painful moments had been so intense that he had lost it while they talked. Now it seemed he was even harder than before. Hermione squirmed as he filled every bit of her again. 

 

“I need our bond sealed now,” she gasped, her muscles clamping around him.

 

“Not as much as I need it,” he replied sincerely. He wanted to be playful about it. Perhaps someday he would be. Right now, Charlie was just overwhelmed with everything he could feel building between them - and her velvet pussy squeezing him.

 

Hermione laughed, causing her muscles to contract around him again. “Thank Merlin it isn’t a competition.” She gave him an evil grin and added, “Of course, if it were, I would probably do something like this…” With her hands on his shoulders, she suddenly pushed, sliding up his cock as he cried out.

 

There was no way Charlie could hold back any longer. “Draga,” he groaned, “we have to go slow. Don’t want… to hurt you.” His hands were on her hips and he was holding her to a far slower pace than she was clearly intending. “I promise we will get there like this. Let me love you,” he whispered.

 

She submitted to his mouth claiming hers, then down - sucking at her pulse point, at that spot just below her ear that made her crazy, further down to her nipples. He felt a frenzied need to claim her everywhere at once. Charlie slid his fingers along her body and swirled them around her clit. He swore he could feel their magic swirling together in time with his movements.

 

“Too much,” she whined, “I’m… too close… are you…?”

 

“Draga, I’ve been barely holding on since you started this.” His voice was shaking with the strain of not letting go for so long. “Are you ready?” he asked, his thumb poised over her clit again.

 

“Yes, please Charlie. I need you. I want you, want this bond with you.” The magic was pulsing now.

 

“You have it, love. You have me. I want this bond, too.” He felt the words pulled from him, some part of his magic knowing it needed to be said. 

 

He pressed against her and Hermione exploded around him, the magic gathered between them exploding as well. Charlie screamed as it pushed him over the edge, his cock throbbing as he released for what felt like ages and Hermione cried his name as her walls fluttered around him.

 

**********************

 

“Do you think she’s going to yell at him first?” Ron asked when Bill had finished warding the room they left the two in.

 

“No, you git,” George answered. “Can you not feel the magic?”

 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “We’re not all soul bound to her, you know. I think they might just be hot for each other.”

 

“They better not wait,” Bill said as he dropped on the sofa. He looked completely worn through. Ron wasn’t sure if it was just the portkeys or if getting Charlie from the Reserve had been that traumatic. 

 

Bill had refused to discuss it when he physically carried their bulky, muscular brother into Hermione’s room and stripped him down with a quick spell. When Bill had snapped at them all to get out of the bed and let the two focus their energy on each other, no one had argued, not even Fred. 

 

Those who had been here with Hermione had been desperately worried about her. Ron had seen, too, exactly how pale Charlie had looked on his way in. Not to mention that he was unconscious. This had been too close of a call. He wasn’t one for researching himself, but someone was going to need to suggest it. They needed to know what else to expect. 

 

Ron was concerned about his bond with Mione remaining unsealed. They couldn’t really have sex to seal it, could they? He had actually found her quite attractive still when she had been coming on to Bill earlier. There hadn’t been any stirrings of emotion beyond the normal friendship, but he wanted to look at her as much as the next bloke would. But sex? No thanks.

 

Shaking his head at that thought, he decided a change of subject was in order, though the topic was no happier. “Mum’s been sending owls,” he announced.

 

Everything stilled. The twins turned toward him from where they had been about to begin a game of chess. Ginny glanced up from her Quidditch magazine before setting her jaw and going back to reading it. Bill just covered his face with both hands and finally said, “What does she want?” in a voice so tired that Ron felt sorry for him.

 

“She eez saying she deed not talk to zat awful woman,” Fleur said, walking into the room with Harry close behind her. They were both wearing aprons and there was flour in Harry’s hair. “Deener eez ready whenever you are ‘ungry,” she told them all before delicately seating herself next to Bill on the sofa. His hand immediately gripped hers.

 

Ron watched his oldest brother lean into the beautiful Veela woman and confirmed in his mind that the situation at the Reserve had been very bad. He had never seen Bill so shaken, even when they thought they might lose the twins.

 

Some of it was bound to be residual. So much had happened in such a short time. They were all exhausted and struggling. But. Bill and Charlie had always been close. 

 

Deciding it would be best to remove attention from Bill and Fleur, Ron stood. “Who’s ready for dinner?” he asked. The others gratefully declared how hungry they were and rushed out of the room. As he left the room, he heard Bill mumbling, “Do you think she’s telling the truth?”

 

Sighing, Ron went to the kitchen where Fleur had been working and found the letters. He had read them when they arrived, but he knew the others would want to take a look. He took them back to pass around the table as he dug into the food.

 

Fred snorted at something in one of the letters. George was shaking his head over his twin’s shoulder. Ginny was scanning another, her lips pursed together and a pained look in her eyes. They had already discarded the first letter. It was mostly incoherent written blubbering. Apparently, whether she had talked to Skeeter or not, Mum didn’t actually like the feeling of her words being thrown out to all of wizarding society and possibly losing her childrens’ trust.

 

As they rose together and began clearing the dishes, it seemed Ginny couldn’t take the silence anymore.

 

“I don’t know if we can believe her,” Ginny said sadly as she traded letters with the twins.

 

Fred snorted again. “We know she’s said the very same things to us that Skeeter claims.”

 

“Those exact things?” Ron asked, realizing they hadn’t gotten to talk about it much this morning when the paper came.

 

“Exactly those,” Fred said with a grim look. George nodded solemnly with a sigh.

 

A realization had come to Ron. “Did you notice any bugs around? In the room at St. Mungo’s,” he asked.

 

The twins gave him an odd look. “No,” George said at the same moment Fred said, “Yes, one.”

 

Ron cursed, exchanging a look with Harry. “Was it a beetle?”

 

Raising their eyebrows and seeming to twinspeak for a moment, Fred said, “I’m really not sure. I just remember brushing something off my shirt.”

 

“It was probably her,” Harry said angrily.

 

“Her who?” George asked, confused.

 

“Skeeter,” Ron said. “She’s an illegal animagus. Beetle. It’s how she gets her scoops.”

 

The twins gaped at him. 

 

“How in Merlin’s name do you know that?” Ginny asked, clearly impressed.

 

“Hermione caught her and kept her in a jar for a while,” Ron said with a fond grin. 

 

“WHAT?!” the twins gasped in sync. They were awed. And perhaps a little scared.

 

Ron laughed. “You heard me.”

 

“So you think she was in the room with them when Mum and Bill and the twins were talking?” Ginny queried.

 

“Yeah. She must have been,” Harry agreed. “Was that all she would have heard?”

 

“Shite, no,” George said, paling.

 

“If she reports on the stuff about Mum and Bill feuding, it will crush him,” Fred whispered. He had apparently noticed how wrecked Bill was looking, too.

 

“So what are we going-” 

 

Ron was cut off by the intense wave of magic from the bedroom. Again, the twins dropped to their knees. Ginny gasped and staggered against the wall. There was a cry from the sitting room where Bill was, followed by a giggle from Fleur and then sounds that Ron definitely didn’t want to contemplate. Grumbling to himself, Ron realized he was going to need to find somewhere private to wank again. At least he wasn’t closely tied enough that he needed to clean himself up after.

 

“Well… this is awkward,” Harry said after a few moments of watching them all try to recover. 

 

“You’ve no idea, mate,” Ron stated as he excused himself.

 

************

 

Hermione snuggled into the muscled hold of the redhead beside her. Charlie hadn’t opened his eyes yet and he was still inside her. She felt… almost complete in a way she never had before. It must be because the bond was mostly sealed at this point. Two more and the whole process would be done. 

 

Not that it would be the end, by any means. She wouldn’t want it to be if she was honest, not after the things she had experienced in the last couple of days. But she would also be very happy to leave this level of neediness behind her. If she got to. Of course they didn’t actually know that sealing the bond would stop their need for each other. She had quite a lot of reading to do when there was time. 

 

Right now, Hermione was exhausted. But not so exhausted to ignore the conversation that was about to take place. Of course, there was a part of her that was going to find it hard with his beautiful, expressive ocean blue eyes looking at her like she hung the moon.

 

She leaned up and kissed him, putting it off a few more minutes while they enjoyed tasting each other in a much more leisurely fashion. When she finally parted from him, they were both breathing hard. Hermione wasn’t sure but the look in his eyes suggested he wanted to do more, though she could tell, while still as large as most men would be fully hard, he was not at all ready. Idly, she wondered if it took him longer to recuperate since he was so large.

 

He started to kiss down her neck, his hands roaming her body as his cock slid out of her. She knew from his kisses that the man had a very talented tongue. As much as she wanted to feel it in other places, she was too tired for that and the conversation at hand. Unfortunately, she knew which one she had to choose tonight. 

 

“Why did you leave?” she asked, pushing him away from her just slightly, but letting her hands run through his tangled curls to hopefully communicate that she still wanted him despite his transgressions. She couldn’t believe Charlie of all people didn’t have more confidence, but he seemed oddly certain that she didn’t want him.

 

Hurt flickered in his eyes, though she could tell he was trying to suppress it. A few deep breaths, and he looked away from her. He spoke quietly when he finally seemed to gather his thoughts. “I was in a lot of pain. I needed… you. I needed you like I’ve never needed anything in my life, like you need air to live. When you came through the floo… I went straight in, but… you were with the twins already.”

 

“I needed to-”

 

“I know. I swear I understand, Hermione. The bond… I’m sure theirs must be even more intense, so the three of you needed each other first, more. But I… it was overwhelming. I was so angry with them. I’ve never felt jealousy like that. I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone the way I wanted to hurt them right then and certainly not my own brothers.”

 

“Charlie, you can’t-”

 

“I know . It’s not okay. That’s why I left. I couldn’t stay around when I knew I might hurt them, hurt you through them.”

 

“Well you bloody well hurt me anyway,” she snapped before she could control her temper. She was glad that he had been so determined to not hurt the twins. But… they had to get past this. Hopefully sealing the bond would have handled it? She started to say as much, but he began talking again. 

 

“I know. Merlin, I know. And I feel… It was also… I was dizzy. Pain. Need. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I had to get away. I just… I couldn’t think straight and I thought… maybe if I could get somewhere far enough from you, I would feel okay again.”

 

“Charlie, that’s-”

 

“The stupidest thing you’ve ever heard? Utter bullshite? Ridiculous beyond measure?”

 

“All those, yes,” she agreed. 

 

“I realize that now, of course,” he said with a grimace. “But I couldn’t deal with-“

 

“You’re going to have to start dealing with things, Charlie. Our lives are complicated enough without chasing you to Romania every time things get hard,” Hermione scolded, feeling unhappy with the man beside her. “This time you nearly killed us.” She saw him sink into himself at her words. “You will-”

 

He dropped his eyes, seeming to sense the depth of her displeasure before he cut in. “I’m sorry, Draga,” he said quietly, his deep voice rumbling with his sincerity. “I can’t promise I’ll never run again. I’m sure someone has told you it's what I always do. But I can promise I’ll try. Even when it’s uncomfortable and I hate it and I’m angry or scared.”

 

Hermione wanted to be furious with him. She wasn’t sure she would ever forget the terrifying moment when Bill carried him in looking dead and lay him next to her. Her heart had felt like it would stop with his. Yet she had felt the need to reassure Bill, to tell Ginny and the twins not to worry - even though Fred and George could feel what was happening to her. Merlin, she was tired of having to be strong for everyone. 

 

She didn’t realize she had said any of that out loud until Charlie pulled her in for a crushing hug. Into her hair, he whispered, “I owe you so much more than an apology. I promised you devotion, then I ran. But I will start talking and stop running. I swear it. I will be here to hold you when things are hard and I will try not to make them worse.”

 

After everything the last few days - the last few months, really - Hermione was overwrought; all of a sudden she found herself crying, safe in his arms.

 

“I’ll be strong for you, Draga. Always. Let me take care of you.”

 

Charlie held her until she had cried out all the stress and worry and pain she had been carrying, and then through the night as she slept. If he cried some, too, she pretended not to notice, just held him tighter.

Notes:

I know she didn't rip into Charlie quite the way some expected, but I hope this worked just as well.

Next up: reactions to tomorrow's funeral (Remus and Tonks) and Molly coming home. What are you anticipating? Including things that I haven't mentioned but you might like to see - remember, I am open to hearing suggestions!

Chapter 12

Notes:

I'm so excited to be posting again so soon! As a warning, this chapter deals with everyone's reactions to Remus and Tonks' funeral. It's a bit heavy and sad in places.

I thank Lady Winterlight for all her help as my alphabet, especially as her life is insanely busy at the moment with major life changes.

Harry Potter, Hermione, and the Weasleys still don't belong to me except in my heart.

Hermione woke to someone shaking her gently. She felt warm and safe and frankly didn’t want to move anytime soon. But the shaking was insistent. The sound she made was unintelligible, but the soft chuckle in response made her heart swell.

 

Prying her slightly swollen eyes open, the first thing she saw was Charlie watching her. “Hey there, Draga,” he said, a soft smile on his lips.

 

She couldn’t help but smile back, but then she realized how dark it still was in the room. “What time is it?”

 

“Early,” he replied. “I’m sorry to wake you. I just…”

 

She sleepily stretched against him, her body catching on something thick and hard. “Oh, is that what you nee-”

 

“No,” he said hastily. “I… not that I wouldn’t enjoy more of that sometime, but I’m… I couldn’t sleep.” His eyes weren’t meeting hers anymore.

 

Hermione blinked sleep from her eyes and tried to understand what was wrong. There was clearly something, but Hermione couldn’t guess what it might be. She reached up to brush the hair off his forehead. “Remember that I’m here to talk when you need me, Charlie. I hope that you can feel as safe with me as you make me feel.”

 

He snuggled her closer, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. With a heavy sigh, heavy enough that it felt more like a rumble against the ear she had pressed to his chest, he said, “I’ll try. It’s not… I will probably stop a lot. I’m not used to sharing how I feel with anyone. Bill every now and then, especially when it’s about family, but this isn’t exactly.”

 

“I’m here however long it takes,” she reassured him.

 

Long moments passed with him rubbing her back as he seemed to be piecing his thoughts together. “Her funeral is today,” he finally said. His voice was shaking.

 

Confusion in her tone, Hermione asked, “Tonks?” 

 

She supposed there were others that died, plenty of others who might be laying to rest today, but she didn’t know any of them. On the other hand, she didn’t know any connection between the two of them besides being Order members.

 

“Yeah,” he said. She felt a tear fall onto the mattress next to her before he spoke again. “I guess no one probably said anything, but she was my best friend at Hogwarts. We did everything together for years.”

 

“Oh, Charlie! I’m so sorry. I had no idea!” Hermione squeezed him a little tighter and he nuzzled into her. Scooting up in the bed, she made it so that she was the one holding him instead of the other way around. A quick whisper brought a dim light over them so that she could see him just a little better.

 

Through tears, but sometimes laughing, too, he kept talking, halting though it was. “We used to get into all kinds of trouble. Sometimes when I had some wild creature idea, she would morph into Hagrid so we could get away with taking care of it. Or one time I kept Professor Dumbledore distracted while she turned into him and demanded Snape dismiss our potions class for the day. He had been expecting us to brew something nasty and most of our grade was supposed to depend on it. Tonks as Dumbledore told him that was inappropriate. It was months before they put it all together. Then we were in detention together for a solid month every night.”

 

Hermione was laughing and his tears had dried as he talked. “I wonder if you could share some of the stories when we’re there later,” she suggested.

 

Sobering immediately, he nodded. “There are a few even Andromeda doesn’t know. Merlin, I can’t believe she’s been left all alone with a baby. I still can’t believe Tonks was a Mum. But Dromeda was like a second Mum to me. It seems like every choice she ever made was hard. And now she doesn’t have Ted anymore.”

 

“Maybe we could go around sometimes,” Hermione offered. “I don’t know Andromeda, but everything I’ve ever heard about her is good. Even if she didn’t like me for some reason, I would be there for you if you wanted me to.”

 

The look in Charlie’s eyes was hard to see, like he couldn’t quite believe she was real. They cuddled together for a long while as light slowly gathered outside the window. Looking up at it, he sighed and raggedly began again, “She… I know we didn’t really talk about history last night and I don’t know if you want to know…”

 

“Anything you want to talk about,” she reminded him gently, sensing from his rigid stance that whatever this was, it was important. 

 

“Tonks was my first. My only until last night. To go all the way, I mean. She could… you know…”

 

“Change her body to fit?” Hermione queried, suddenly understanding.

 

“Yeah. It was… I could be normal with her.”

 

“Charlie, size variations are perfectly nor-” He gave her a look and she shut up. 

 

After a moment, he continued, “We had crushes on each other at one point. Well, two different points, actually. But those were over by the time we did anything. It was never a romance or anything. Just… best friends enjoying each other. Until she met Remus, we still hooked up now and then. When I happened to be in Britain. Or a couple of times one of us visited on purpose, if we were going through something and needed comfort.”

 

“I’m glad you had her,” Hermione said as she pulled him close. 

 

“How can she be gone?” he whimpered, tears pouring from him again.

 

Hermione rubbed his shoulders as they shook with sobs and petted through his hair as he cried, murmuring words of comfort. The sun was fully out, light filtering cheerfully into the room, by the time he calmed again. 

 

There was a knock at the door and Ron called out, “Family meeting over breakfast when you’re ready. We’ve got two hours before we have to go.”

 

With a groan, Charlie clung to her. “We’ll be down soon,” Hermione called back after canceling the silencing spell. She had almost forgotten it was still there, but she was as glad that no one could hear Charlie’s emotional breakdown as she was that their bond sealing the night before was private.

 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she told him. “I wish we could stay here all day.”

 

“Merlin, me too,” he whispered. “I just want to hold you and be held and not face this day.”

 

“It will be over in a few hours,” she coaxed. “We can snuggle more after. And I’m not abandoning you if you need me during the funeral.”

 

He squeezed her so tightly that she started laughing. “Your grip is like a bear. Are you my big soft Charlie-bear?” she asked lightly as she felt an unexpected and unexplained shift of magic in response to her words. 

 

He laughed, even if it didn’t reach his eyes. Taking one of her hands in his own, he ran it across his chest. “I don’t think you’ll find much of me very soft.” He raised an eyebrow to indicate there might be other areas she could think about being hard as well.

 

Hermione smiled, but moved her hand over Charlie’s heart. “You’re soft in here, and that’s what counts for me.”

 

They kissed then, softly, gently, until they felt connected enough to face the day. Then, reluctantly, they left the bed and dressed to go join the others.

 

**************************

 

Bill was almost too nervous to eat. Fleur had been trying all morning to convince him. Percy was an excellent cook - almost better than Mum, so it wasn’t that. This was just a shit day and he couldn’t help but wonder how he - or any of them - was going to get through it. 

 

Sitting in front of his full plate, he couldn’t let himself think about Remus lest he break down. Mum would be home in a few hours and that was almost guaranteed to go poorly. Then tomorrow… tomorrow was Dad’s funeral. Bill knew he was just barely hanging on to himself, but he had to be the strong one. They were all his responsibility, no matter how much Fleur shook her head and assured him it wasn’t all on his shoulders.

 

As the others slowly filtered into the kitchen, he looked over them. Everyone was somber, but Ginny couldn’t stop crying. He knew she had adored Tonks, but hadn’t really realized they had gotten that close. Then again, maybe it was just a prelude to tomorrow. Harry was looking decidedly pale, not really eating anything and staring blankly at the wall. Bill was worried about Charlie, too, knowing how close he and Tonks had been, but he and Hermione hadn’t emerged from her room yet.

 

“We weel get through today,” Fleur said from behind him. Her hand was on his shoulder, the other combing through his long hair, but he had the feeling her words were meant for everyone.

 

Hermione walked in then, Charlie’s hand holding tightly to hers. The twins immediately rose and moved to hug her, but she noticeably did not let go of Charlie. Ginny was next, the two girls clinging to one another for long moments. When they separated, Hermione was crying, too. Charlie already had tear tracks on his cheeks, though he was trying to hold it in now. Bill wasn’t sure if it was obvious to him just because of how well he knew Charlie or if anyone would be able to tell. He selfishly hoped Charlie didn’t lose it, because he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to hold back his own reaction when that happened.

 

“Course we will,” Ron said in response to Fleur, trying to ignore the hug parade nearby. Bill was interested to see that Harry was the only person Ron seemed worried about.

 

As Hermione and Charlie finally sat to eat - or at least to push food around on their plates - Bill knew he would have to start talking soon. 

 

“Everyone, I think there are some things we need to address before the day’s… events,” he barely got the words out without choking on them. Fleur was looking at him with concern in her eyes.

 

Several heads nodded, inviting him to continue.

 

“We’re going to need to hide the marriage from the world,” he started. “Which means touching Hermione is off limits.”

 

“Not for us,” Fred said with a grin, slinging an arm around Hermione. 

 

On her other side, Charlie went rigid but didn’t say anything. Bill pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, Fred.”

 

George interrupted quietly, “I know it’s going to be hard on everyone, but Fred’s right in this case. The Prophet already announced us. Not only can we touch her, we bloody well have to or tomorrow’s article will be about how we trapped her into it or she trapped us and we don’t like each other or we’re fighting over her or who knows what.”

 

There was sudden chaos as everyone began talking at once, angry voices shouting over one another. Bill tried to regain control, but it wasn’t working. Hermione suddenly stood. “That’s enough!”

 

No one spoke for a moment. “I am glad you are ‘ere to speak for yourself, ‘Ermione,” Fleur said, walking over to stand behind her. Bill missed his wife at his back, but he saw what she was doing, lending her support and physically backing up the little witch.

 

“I can’t deny that it is best to keep the group marriage to ourselves as long as possible, forever if we can, but at least until things calm down. But,” and she looked directly into Bill’s eyes, “I will not be told who I can touch. It will suffice to remind everyone not to kiss me. I can hug who I want. I can comfort who I want. The twins are my official husbands, but I won’t abandon the rest of you. That includes you, Bill. Don’t stand there and act like you’re handling this well enough when you clearly are not.”

 

He didn’t like the scolding, on any of the subjects, but he had to look away when she called him on how he was doing. “Fine,” he snapped, “Everyone keep it as friendly as you can manage.”

 

“Harry,” Ginny said, voice shaking. “Can I stand with you? I think… it might look better, and we can lean on each other.”

 

Harry stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. “I would like that,” he said, a little formally.

 

Ron smiled at their little sister. “I’ll be on Harry’s other side, of course.”

 

“I don’t need to be close to anyone particular. I might even help Kingsley,” Percy said. “They were good people, but I didn’t know them.” 

 

“Bill has Fleur,” Ron noted. He paused and it was obvious to everyone that he was searching for something to be done with Charlie. Finally, he said, “Charlie should get between Bill and George. Hermione will be on George’s other side if Charlie needs her.”

 

“Did I miss something that made you the group coordinator?” Percy asked, his snobbish attitude from their growing years showing just slightly with all the tension.

 

“Yes, you did, actually,” George said, Fred laughing beside him as they remembered Ron directing their sex game the day before. Even Ginny’s lips tipped up for a moment.

 

Bill wasn’t entirely sure what they were referring to, but he nodded gratefully to Ron. “That’s a sound plan. Now. Hermione and Charlie, I think you missed the owls from Mum last night.”

 

“Charlie missed the Prophet article yesterday as well, unless he caught it in Romania,” Percy pointed out.

 

Bill took a deep breath. He didn’t want Charlie to lose his mind just before Mum came home, so he had to think fast. “It was all Skeeter’s fault,” he blurted before anyone else could jump in. “There was an article where she said she had an interview with Mum, but we’ve figured out it was a lie.”

 

He heaved a sigh of relief when everyone nodded along without protest. He was not relieved when Charlie asked, “What did the article say?”

 

“The things that Mum said to us in her St. Mungo’s room,” Fred said, steel in his voice. 

 

“The nasty things were caged in the scoop that Freddie and I were saved by marrying her in a triad.”

 

“How do we know the interview part is a lie?” Hermione asked, her voice angry.

 

Ron looked at her. “There was a bug on Fred’s shirt,” he emphasized. “They didn’t know until I told them about the jar.”

 

“Oh, that nasty little cockroach!” Hermione exclaimed, getting up and stomping around the table to dig through Molly’s cupboards.

 

“Hermione? What are you-” Bill had started, but Harry grabbed his arm and shook his head. 

 

“Not when she’s like this, mate,” Harry said.

 

Pulling out a jar from the cupboard, Hermione marched over to the owl stand where three owls were perched. She looked them over and said, “Percy, may I use Hermes?”

 

“Of course, darling,” he said, smiling at her in that way that made her blink and look completely stunned. Bill couldn’t argue with her response, though his reason for being stunned was quite different.

 

Hermione rapidly scrawled a letter, put it in the jar, and used a temporary sticking charm to attach the jar to Hermes. She sent him out the window with a few whispered words. Coming back to the table, she sat with her lips pressed tightly together. “Hopefully that will be the end of that.”

 

“I hope so,” Fred said worriedly. “There’s more she could print if she was in the room the whole time.”

 

“Right then,” Bill said, checking the time and determining this had to move along. “Mum comes home today after the funeral.”

 

“Fuck,” Charlie said, seemingly unable to contain himself. He ran both hands down his face and leaned toward Hermione. She slid a hand into his hair, working to calm him. “How soon after the funeral?” he asked, his voice bitter.

 

“I’m not sure,” Bill answered honestly. “We should probably go get her shortly after. She’ll know when it was.”

 

Percy sighed. “I’ll handle her,” he volunteered. 

 

“I can go, too,” Ron said. “She’s not been awful to me thus far.”

 

“Thank you both,” Bill said, hoping his intense relief wasn’t showing. Dealing with her at home was going to be bad enough.

 

“What are we going to do about the bonds with her here?” George asked.

 

“I was about to ask all of you that very thing,” Bill said tiredly.

 

“We can’t hide the marriage from her,” Ginny said. “Not unless we’re planning to keep away from Mione forever.”

 

“She was a right bitch about just Freddie and I marrying her,” George said.

 

“What’s she going to say about the lot of us?” Fred asked.

 

“I can’t deal with her right now,” Charlie said. There were tears trickling down his cheeks and Hermione was looking to Bill to fix it. 

 

Before he could think of anything to say, Harry spoke up. “A couple of days won’t make much difference. Why don’t we do our best to keep it from her until after your da… tomorrow? There will be plenty of time for her to tear into all of us here at the Burrow after that.”

 

“Like she’s going to yell at you,” Ron scoffed. “You’re the bloody Chosen One.”

 

Harry blushed and went back to staring aimlessly at the wall. Trying to draw attention away, Bill said, “I think that’s a good suggestion, waiting for a few days to let her find out.”

 

“She’s going to be more furious than ever when she knows we’ve hidden it from her,” Ginny pointed it out.

 

“It’s still better than doing it right before we have to appear in public as a united front,” Bill said.

 

“About zat…” Fleur started. “I understand she eez deefficult, but it might be best to be loving to her thees night. Tomorrow weel be ‘ard for ‘er. Eef you want to offer thees united front, all need to remember you love each ozzer.”

 

“You don’t understand,” Fred began, but Bill cut him off. 

 

“That’s a lovely idea, Fleur, but you know it may be easier said than done.” Bill leaned into her gratefully as she reached his side of the table.

 

“It is a lovely idea,” Hermione said, her voice firm. “I think it’s what we should do. But that doesn’t mean we have to let her railroad any of us. There are 10 of us. If she starts harassing any of us, someone else steps in to redirect her. Can we agree on that?”

 

There were ‘yes’es all around the table, some more quiet, disgruntled, or stubborn than others. Bill was again relieved that some of the pressure had fallen off of him. He started to say that it was time to get ready to leave when Hermione spoke up again.

 

“If it comes to a point that someone has to take her anger, let it be me,” she requested.

 

“No!” both of the twins cried. “That’s not fair. You’re not even hers.”

 

“Which is exactly why it should be me. She’s angry at me already. She’s your Mum. As much as she can be overbearing, I know some of you will need her tomorrow. And that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with needing your Mum.” Bill wasn’t sure why she sniffled as she said that, but he had a feeling he would need to find out.

 

Reluctantly, the others around the table agreed, though Bill suspected some of them wouldn’t actually stand for it if it happened. Finally he was able to send everyone scrambling to get ready. 

 

As they all left the table, Bill felt his shoulders slump. Fleur pulled him close. “Eet weel be okay, mon amour. I am so sorry we have lost your mentor and ami, but you know zee things you need to know. ‘E would not wish you to feel as you do. And you know ‘is Tonks doted on you. She would not want you to ‘urt.”

 

Bill hugged her, a sob shaking his body. There were suddenly more arms around him and he leaned back slightly to feel Hermione and Charlie there. “Remus… he helped me so much. I don’t think… he was the only one who understood.”

 

“There will be others now,” Hermione said quietly. “Greyback clawed and bit a lot of people in this war. They will need someone much like you did. It would be a great honor to Remus’ memory if you pass on his knowledge.”

 

For a moment, Bill wasn’t sure how he felt about that, then realized it did help somehow. Remus had been one of a kind. And there wasn’t anyone else that he knew of to carry on the man’s legacy. He would see that Remus was never forgotten. And having that sense of purpose helped him get ready and head to the service where a great wizard and his witch were to be laid to rest.

 

*************************

 

Ginny turned into the closest set of arms and sobbed. It didn’t matter that his scrawny body was wracked with sobs as well. They could lean on each other and Merlin, she was thankful for that. She saw the flash of a camera and knew this would be news. She didn’t even care right now. And fuck the wizarding world. They could think what they wanted.

 

She knew she hadn’t really even known Tonks that well, but in the time they had together, Ginny had come to see the woman as a big sister. Tonks was Charlie’s age after all. There weren’t many memories of her as a Hogwarts age student, but Ginny knew she had played with her on the rare occasion. Mostly Charlie had disappeared to the relative quiet and calm of the Tonks household, but he had brought his friend over sometimes.

 

Lately, though… It was ironic that Harry was the one Ginny was turning to when so much of the bonding she had done with Tonks involved late night talks about boys - Remus for Tonks and Harry for Ginny. Sure, they had giggled over Witch Weekly articles and things, too, but a lot of their talks involved the men they loved. Should she feel guilty that Tonks lost her chance at living with her love and Ginny was just ready to give hers up?

 

She felt comfortable clinging to Harry. He was a good friend, a good man. It made her angry that even at this moment, sobbing his heart out, there were people trying to shove closer to him, to touch him, talk to him. The Chosen One. The Boy Who Lived Twice. Defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

 

Everyone wanted him to pay attention to them. And of course the reporters were the worst.

 

“Harry Potter! What did you think of the funeral?”

 

“Mr. Lupin was a friend of your father’s. What do you think he would have to say about this if he were here today?”

 

“How did it feel to finally kill He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

 

Ginny wrenched herself away from Harry, who had sobbed harder, it seemed, with every question. “Get away from him, you vultures! Can’t you see he’s grieving?”

 

“Are you Harry Potter’s girlfriend?” 

 

“Will you be getting married soon?”

 

“How did you feel when everyone thought Harry was dead?

 

The questions began, now aimed at her. Ginny half roared, starting toward the reporters when she felt a gentle hand pulling her back. Hermione was there, one hand on her arm and the other on Harry. Ginny felt a cool breeze of magic around her, as though Hermione were reaching out to calm her temper.

 

Ron came up beside Harry on his other side, the Golden Trio and Ginny standing side by side. Hermione stepped forward just slightly, her head held high, jaw and shoulders set.

 

“We aren’t here to answer your questions,” Hermione stated, her voice rising above the chaos. It was pindrop quiet within moments, people pausing where they had been gathering their things to leave. Everyone waited to hear if she might say more. 

 

“Today we laid to rest two wonderful people who meant a tremendous amount to all of us. They laid down their lives to protect all of ours. They deserved better than this. Our entire generation, yours, all the lives that were lost… The wizarding world deserved better. We will rise above our past and build a better world for the next generation. But today, we need space. We need to grieve and put our loved ones to rest. You will ask no more questions. You will be respectful of the many people here whose lives are torn apart. This will be true of all the funerals. You may attend if you can show respect.”

 

The funeral-goers were nodding. Some were crying, or crying harder than before. Ginny noticed that, while some were grumbling, most of the reporters were practically salivating at Hermione’s impromptu speech. This would give them plenty to write about.

 

Only one voice rose on the wind. That nasty, spiteful whine that was all Rita Skeeter said, “Is it true that Remus Lupin’s son is a werewolf just like he was? That Harry Potter will be raising a monster?”

 

There were shocked gasps throughout the entire gathering. Harry had gone rigid next to her. Ginny slipped her hand into his again, willing him not to rise to the bait.

 

It was Bill who stormed forward and answered, “Lycanthropy is not an inheritable affliction. Harry’s godson is an orphaned wizard.”

 

“Of course you would say that,” Rita voiced snidely. “Your own cubs will be half Veela as well.”

 

“My wife is only a quarter Veela herself and I am not a werewolf,” Bill said through gritted teeth.

 

“Do they have a name for a half-blood like yourself?” she asked, her tone one of innocent curiosity.

 

Before Bill could say whatever damnable thing might come out next, Hermione stepped forward again, changing the entire tone of the conversation. Sweetly, she enquired, “Rita, did you receive my owl?”

 

The woman smiled at her, a nasty glint in her eye. “Why yes, dear. I think you’ll find it registered perfectly well with me.” 

 

Hermione looked furious. Ron and Harry both looked upset and wary. Ginny caught on after a moment. The blackmail they had on her before was gone. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. This could get very, very ugly.

 

“Ah, there you all are,” Kingsley’s voice boomed as he stepped up next to them as well. Skeeter looked very unhappy to see him. Turning to the reporters with a frown, he said, “I actually need a word with you fine reporters, first.”

 

There was a muttering of dissent. No one imagined this would be something they wanted to hear. 

 

Kingsley smiled at them as though he didn’t notice. “These funerals are private affairs. When we have state funerals honoring certain individuals, you are welcome to attend the public ceremony at the beginning, of course. However, if you are seen to be harassing any of the people attending and mourning, the Aurors will escort you out. You will also refrain from attending personal funerals unless they are personal for you as an individual. This is not negotiable.”

 

Ginny’s breath had caught at the barely veiled reference to Dad’s funeral tomorrow. She was so thankful that Kingsley had seen fit to put a stop to the reporters’ behavior before then, though she was sorry it hadn’t been declared sooner. Harry beside her was pale and shaking.

 

The reporters unhappily began to disperse. Even Skeeter skittered away, though not fast enough to miss Fred say to Kingsley, “Have you noticed how bad the bugs are this year? I’ve been smashing so many when they bother me.”

 

Kingsley looked momentarily confused until Percy whispered something to him. Clearly he had explained the reference, because the Minister of Magic began to guffaw. “Remus would be so proud,” he murmured to Percy, whose lips quirked in a partial smile. 

 

“Remind Hermione of that later,” Percy responded, almost too low to be heard. Both men quickly mastered their amusement, though, and resumed the solemn mien of men grieving for lost friends. 

 

Ginny almost wished they hadn’t. The family needed some levity, even if it came in the unlikely form of Percy and the Minister.

*********************

 

Harry felt like his whole world was crumbling. Making it through that funeral without coming completely apart had been one of the hardest things he had done, even counting the year on the run, the horcruxes, the basilisk, the Triwizard Tournament, and defeating Voldemort. His last human connection to his parents was gone. 

 

The Marauders had been larger than life. How could they all be gone? Saying goodbye to Moony was like losing Sirius all over again, only doubled. He had never gotten to mourn Sirius properly with everything going on, so now it was both of them. 

 

And Teddy. Merlin, why did there have to be another child left alone like he had been? At least there would be no abusive relatives for Teddy. Harry didn’t really know Andromeda, but everything he had heard about her was good. And if she wasn’t good enough for his godson, Harry would not rest until he had Teddy somewhere safe and cherished. History was not going to repeat itself.

 

He was so grateful for Ginny’s steady presence through the funeral. And the way she stood up against the reporters. Harry knew he should be the one demanding they back off. He should have made the speech Hermione had so perfectly presented. 

 

But Harry was tired. The bone deep exhaustion was pulling him down. Of course, he still needed to catch up on food. And sleep. He needed to learn how to relax again. Well, learn to relax in the first place. He couldn’t remember a point in his life when he had been able to relax. But right now, the tension of knowing he had to face Voldemort on his own still hadn’t left him. There was relief, of course, that it was finally over. But it was like his body couldn’t accept yet that the danger was over. 

 

Realistically, the danger wasn’t completely over. There were still Death Eaters on the loose. If the three of them became Ministry Poster Children as Kingsley wanted, they would be even bigger targets all over again. Thinking of the man seemed to summon him. Harry wondered if he could actively run from the Minister of Magic and get away with it.

 

Turned out he didn’t have to worry. Hermione headed the man off. The way she was waving her hands around and clearly speaking quickly convinced Harry she would be keeping Kingsley busy for some time. He didn’t have to take on anything else right now.

 

It honestly felt like he should be able to hand over the reins, the terror, of everything to someone else at this point. He shuddered and felt Ginny’s arm come around him yet again. The reporters were going to be all over their non-existent relationship. It reminded him that they still needed Bill to look at the bonds. As much as Harry had been considering that this might be for the best, right now the idea of having a love match to lean on was very tempting. And he and Ginny loved each other well enough, didn’t they?

 

“Excuse me?” a commanding but somehow soft voice interrupted his thoughts. There was a woman standing in front of him with an infant in her arms. The little baby had bright turquoise hair and Harry found himself immediately enchanted. 

 

“Is this…”

 

“Teddy, yes,” the woman said. 

 

“Then you’re Andromeda?” he asked. She was frighteningly similar to Bellatrix in appearance except for the laugh lines and heartbroken tears on her face. There was really no one else she could be, even if the baby hadn’t been a dead giveaway.

 

“I am,” she confirmed. “You never even got to meet him, did you?”

 

“No, ma’am,” Harry responded. He wasn’t sure what this woman, raised prim, proper, and pureblood despite her rebellious choices, would expect in his behavior.

 

He was relieved when she snorted, though even that sound was a little sad. “Don’t ma’am me. I feel old enough already.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he offered. “May I…” Harry wasn’t entirely certain how one asked permission to hold an infant. Or how to do it properly if she agreed.

 

“Of course. You’re his godfather,” Andromeda said. Harry felt a wave of relief at the confirmation he hadn’t known he needed pass through him. She wouldn’t fight him about it. 

 

“I won’t let him down,” Harry declared reverently as Andromeda passed him the tiny boy and Ginny leaned over his shoulder to coo at the baby. 

 

“Later, we will need to make it official,” the woman said. She looked away as another tear tracked down her face. “Right now, I don’t think I’m ready for any more ceremonies for a time.”

 

“Of course not,” Harry agreed. Teddy gurgled in his arms, staring straight into his eyes. His hair suddenly popped to an unruly black mop which, honestly, looked pretty ridiculous on an infant. 

 

Harry started to laugh for the first time today. It felt good to let go. It felt good that Andromeda and Hermione and all the Weasleys were laughing, too. Harry laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks. 

 

While he was distracted, Ginny slipped closer and somehow wrangled Teddy away from him, a cheeky grin on her face. Harry stuck his tongue out at her and started to say something snarky, but his breath caught at the image of her with a little baby with his hair. Yes, surely the way they felt together was enough if the heartstopping thought of a baby together made him feel like that.

 

Andromeda pulled his attention away, though her look was assessing the two of them. “I would like it if we could spend some time together soon, Harry.”

 

“I want that, too,” he said sincerely. “I’m not sure how soon we could-”

 

“I’ll need a few days, I think, anyway,” she interrupted. “Are you staying at that horror house on Grimmauld?”

 

“No. Not right now anyway. I’m staying at the Burrow.”

 

A relieved smile crossed her face. “I’ll floo there when we’re ready.”

 

She let the rest of the Weasleys pass Teddy around and spent some time talking to Hermione before gathering her grandson and leaving. Harry was saddened by how lonely the woman looked. She would need family just as much as Teddy did. 

 

Harry knew he would see to it that she had it. Their family could expand for one more.

Notes:

NEXT chapter will be about Molly coming home. It was extremely over ambitious to think I would work that into the same chapter as these reactions.

What do you think of the plans to handle public interactions and things with Molly once she's home? How do you think it's going to go?

Chapter 13

Notes:

I'm so excited to share this chapter and can't wait to hear what you all think about it.

WARNING: references to a BDSM scene

My delightful alphabet, Lady Winterlight, took the time to help me with this even though she got MARRIED this weekend. Congrats again!
StarGirlPotter also offered some alphaing this round, particularly in regard to a particular scene.
And I discussed Molly situations with ohgreatmyarmscomeoff.
I've got ALLL the alpha-ing going on for this one. Thank you all!

I still don't own Harry Potter or the Weasleys.

As everyone began to disperse, Hermione chased Kingsley down. She knew one thing she was ready to demand, and the perfect moment for him to reveal it.

 

“Kings!” she called.

 

He looked up in surprise. Hermione supposed it was rather rare for her to use his nickname. At his signal, the Aurors on either side of him stepped back a little to give him some privacy.

 

“Is everything okay?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

 

“As okay as anything can be these days,” she replied. “But I have something I need from you.”

 

Now his look changed to wary. “I’ll do what I can.”

 

“You can do this, Kingsley. And you will,” she told him, looking him straight in the eye. “Our first request - no, demand in this case - House Weasley will be reinstated into the registry of Noble houses and receive a seat on the Wizengamot. Tomorrow during the public part of Arthur’s ceremony would be the perfect time to announce this as you can pass it off as a way to honor his memory and the bravery of his entire family in the war efforts.”

 

Hermione waited somewhat anxiously when he didn’t respond immediately. Kingsley’s mouth was hanging open. “That’s… brilliant!” he said with a smile, the focused look on his face telling her that he was already mentally planning how to begin the process.

 

“It might be a good idea to imply that other families will be considered as well for their wartime sacrifices,” she added, while he was in a good mood and agreeing.

 

His face got a little more cryptic at that. He only said, “Perhaps. Right now, I must think about this and go see what details need to be arranged to ensure it happens. Thank you for the idea, Miss Granger.”

 

She took a step back. Kingsley never referred to her that way. “So formal?” she queried. 

 

He just tipped his head in the direction of a bush. A person was just barely visible hiding on the other side. Leaning down to hug her, Kingsley whispered in her ear, “They only just walked up at the end. Shouldn’t know what the idea was or anything.” Louder, he said, “I will see you tomorrow. Please do not hesitate to let me know if there are any other details you think the family might appreciate.”

 

*************************

 

“Do keep up, Ronald,” Percy snapped. He would have rather done this particular errand, as most things, alone. Growing up in a large family that behaved as though they despised him had made Percy something of a loner. Of course, these days he also enjoyed certain… group activities. 

 

But not with his brothers, particularly Ron. Then again, after the talk they all had a couple of nights ago… Percy hadn’t really meant to bare his deepest feelings to the family, but he had to admit it had been freeing. It had also helped him feel a little closer to all of them. Still, retrieving Mum was stressful enough. That he was going in there with the brother who lacked manners and intuition to keep his mouth shut made the whole prospect more worrisome.

 

Percy closed his eyes and worked to think about anything else. He needed to be in control of this situation. That made him smile. He very much liked to be in control.

 

Just last night, in fact, he had very much enjoyed being in control. Percy smiled at the thought. It had started with what he later discovered his siblings were referring to as the “bondgasm.” Kingsley had been quite confused when Percy had suddenly rushed out of the room right in the middle of an important meeting. The intensity of sexual need that had surged through him had been great enough that he couldn’t sit there a moment longer. 

 

A quick owl and he had known the evening would bring the kind of release he really needed. Of course, he had no idea what precisely that would be until it had arrived. Miss Penny had a habit of trying to keep Percy on his toes, and he had long since given up on trying to guess what she had planned for him.

 

When Percy received his instructions an hour or so later, he was livid. She had commanded him to go to a very specific office in the Ministry. It was definitely not where Percy would have chosen for this kind of tryst. He had felt hot anger coursing through him, knowing his skin was tinging pink with the intense emotion. Miss Penny knew his limits. And using his direct superior’s office? The Minister of Magic’s? Without consent? That certainly passed his limits and she knew that.

 

He had thought Miss Penny was taking advantage of his job, the connections he had worked so hard for, to make the evening more intimidating for whomever they were to be working with. It wasn’t until he walked into the Minister’s office and found a man on his knees, nude, with a blindfold on and his hands behind his back, that he finally understood that the chosen location had nothing to do with Percy, but everything to do with the tied-up man in front of him. 

 

He still wasn’t completely sure Miss Penny should have changed his and Kingsley’s relationship that way without warning - consent was important after all - but he also knew this was a test to see if he was capable of separating the regular world from the one he so enjoyed. A test that took the situation out of his control, Percy thought ruefully. Miss Penny did enjoy putting him in a more submissive role now and then to remind him of his place in their relationship.

 

It turned out that Kingsley was one of Miss Penny’s regulars. He hadn’t known that the Dom she was training was Percy any more than Percy had known the night’s sub was him. The look on Kingsley’s face when Percy had finally vanished the blindfold and forced the man to beg him for release had nearly been Percy’s own undoing. There was just something so very attractive about seeing Kingsley’s lips trembling as he begged that made Percy’s knees feel weak.

 

Flipping their positions of authority had certainly made things interesting, even if Miss Penny did chastise him for getting personal when he shouldn’t have. She was right, of course, but the need to be in such a position of power had overwhelmed him. He should be ashamed, he supposed. Letting his emotions take control like that had been more proof that he wasn’t ready to be a Dom on his own yet. 

 

But Merlin... It had most definitely been worth the setback in his training. Percy knew he could always train more, but a night like that might never come again. 

 

Percy’s mind then shifted to the funeral this morning, thinking of his interactions with the man who had so recently been at his feet, begging for punishment and thanking Percy for it when he doled it out. Despite the fact that they were at the funeral on a personal basis, Percy had still acted as the Minister’s Assistant as usual. Kingsley had needed his notes and insight in dealing with various people he ran into at a large funeral like that. There had certainly been some unspoken tension between the two of them at first, but Percy was fine with it. Honestly, he was hoping it would help him... establish a more permanent position one might say. He chuckled absently to himself at the joke.

 

“Percy!” Ron shouted. 

 

“What?” he snapped back, startled from his thoughts. His nerves were strung tighter than he had thought.

 

Ron stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. “That was the fifth time I had called your name, Perce. Are you okay?”

 

“Oh,” he said sheepishly. “Yes. Just a lot to think about.”

 

“For all of us,” Ron agreed. “How do you think she’s going to be? Really?” 

 

“We’re almost lucky Skeeter printed that article. Mum will hopefully be desperate to prove she didn’t do an interview and we’ll be able to control her a bit better,” Percy said with a sigh.

 

“Control her?” Ron asked. “That sounds a bit dark.”

 

“You’re aware, I know, that Mum can be a bit volatile at times, especially when she’s already emotional.”

 

“Well yeah-”

 

“This is the most emotional any of us will have ever seen her,” Percy emphasized.

 

“She’s been emotional plenty of-”

 

“Ever, Ronald. The most emotional we have ever seen her. I was 5 when the Aurors showed up and told her Fabian and Gideon had been killed. I will never forget how completely she fell apart. And this will be worse. It will be so much worse.” Percy had completely stopped walking and turned to his brother. 

 

“Tomorrow she has to attend the funeral of the man she has been with since they were at Hogwarts. That’s not even counting all the things going on with us kids, her own healing, anything to do with the world recovering from Voldemort. Things are going to be bad.”

 

Ron was quiet for a moment before nodding solemnly. “They’re bad for all of us. I can’t sleep. Just keep seeing Fred and George laying there-”

 

“I do, too,” Percy said, far paler than he had been moments before. He hadn’t been sleeping well either, between thoughts of Dad and the twins. “I understand. And I’m not trying to say our problems aren’t as bad as Mum’s. Just that we all know it will be up to us to get her through the next few days, maybe weeks. So yes, if we can control some of those emotions by distracting her with other things - like Skeeter’s article and trying to convince us it wasn’t real - we better take every advantage we can. I know you can see this.”

 

His brother blinked at him a few times, processing that explanation. “I see it. I just don’t like it. And it’s hard to think about when we’re going in there to get her.”

 

Percy clapped him on the back and started the two of them walking again, silently this time. He should have known better than to call it controlling her. Maybe he should have said something like nudging her? Either way, even Ron with all his tactical knowledge had a hard time with the truth when Mum was involved.

 

They were soon in St. Mungo’s, filling out paperwork, and heading to Mum’s room. Just outside her door, the two of them looked at one another. No words were exchanged, but Percy went in first. 

 

The room was dim. The bed was empty, but they found her sitting in a rocking chair looking out the window. She didn’t seem to have noticed them arrive.

 

“Mum,” Ron began tentatively. 

 

Her head whipped around, showing them the tears flowing silently down her cheeks. She looked older, far more hollow than she had just yesterday. Or was that the day before? So much had happened and there had been so little sleep that Percy honestly wasn’t sure anymore. He was disturbed by the change, however fast it was. 

 

He chastised himself. It had been a certainty that this was coming, but the fears surged through him anyway. Percy hadn’t been joking when he said he remembered Mum falling apart over the death of her brothers. It had been the most terrifying thing he had ever seen at that point in life and he knew already that watching her cope with Dad’s death wouldn’t be any better.

 

“My boys,” she croaked, barely above a whisper, with her hands held out to them. They both rushed to her side without question and let her squeeze them into the tightest hug she could manage. 

 

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into Ron’s shoulder. “I didn’t say those awful things to her! I swear I didn’t.”

 

“It’s okay, Mum,” Ron spoke up.

 

Before he could go on, Percy cut in, “We wish you hadn’t, of course, but we understand it’s all been rather shocking and you must have needed someone to talk to.”

 

Ron’s eyebrows were knitted together as he looked at Percy over Mum’s head. His frown assured that he did not like the route Percy was going with this, but he was going to have to get over it.

 

“But I didn’t! I would never!”

 

Percy put a consoling hand on his Mum’s cheek. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve come to take you home and-”

 

She wailed. “I didn’t know if any of you would come for me after what I said before! And then thinking I talked to that nasty woman. And I just can’t bear… it’s tomorrow. I have to say goodbye to him tomorrow!”

 

As Percy had feared, she was basically hysterical. Healers were glancing through the door as they passed, but darting their eyes away quickly. Percy suspected they weren’t supposed to acknowledge her breaking down so that Mungo’s could be rid of her. All things considered, he didn’t really blame them. 

 

Withholding the sigh he wanted to give, Percy hugged her hard, letting his Mum cling to his form as sobs wracked her body. Finally, as the tears started to calm down, Percy gently pulled himself from her hold on him and grabbed her hands, tugging on them gently. “Let’s get you out of here, Mum. We’ve already done the paperwork. We can head straight home.”

 

She seemed encouraged by this, pausing in her sobs, “Are the others at home?” she asked. “All of them?”

 

“Of course,” Ron responded.

 

“Thank Merlin,” she whispered, closing her eyes and allowing a few more tears to trickle down. She nodded at them and let their hands assist her. Mum’s legs wobbled at first, but Ron instantly let her put weight on him. With her youngest son supporting her, Percy finished pulling her to stand.

 

It took some time, but they were finally able to leave her room. People were staring and whispering in the hallways. Percy hadn’t noticed it on the way in, but he had been so wrapped in his own thoughts that he wasn’t sure if they had been before or not. Regardless, Mum was slowly shrinking herself smaller between her two sons. Percy held his head high and saw that Ron was following his lead. They had done nothing wrong and, while they would shield Mum from her own hateful words, they would not let anyone see how those words might have affected them.

 

**********************

 

They had barely made it home from the funeral when Harry and Ginny approached him hand in hand. Bill felt like crying. He knew he couldn’t avoid this forever, but he also had no desire to spend his limited energy trying to pick apart the complicated bonds. 

 

Ginny’s eyes already had the puppy dog look, though. The one she knew he couldn’t say no to. Perhaps this would do him some good. It would be a challenge and a distraction, at least.

 

“Bill,” she started, “With Mum home soon… we thought it would be good for her to see Harry and I together.”

 

“And we know it’s a bad time, but if we could clear the issues with the bonds, that could really throw off any suspicions your Mum might have about Hermione and everyone,” Harry filled in.

 

“So could you please try to untangle our bonds now instead of waiting?” Ginny asked. Her voice was sing-songy and sounded so much like the little girl she had once been. 

 

Bill knew he was being manipulated, but he was powerless to deny his baby sister. And they did have a point about Mum, at least where Ginny was concerned. It was one of the relationships he was most concerned about, along with his own, when she found out. So the longer they could distract her with their other relationships, the better.

 

He nodded at the two and said, “Let’s do this on the sofa. We’ll all want to be sitting down since it will probably take a while.”

 

“Ze rest of you can come ‘elp me with food. Cooking alone eez awful and we don’t want your Mum ‘eading straight to ze kitchen without rest,” Fleur said as she herded everyone away from the sitting room with a loving nod to Bill.

 

Distractions gone, the three of them sat and Bill looked at them carefully. “This may be somewhat rough,” he explained, “Especially for you, Harry. I suspect your ties may be more complicated than Ginny’s.”

 

“Since he was the one who did this,” she said as she sent Harry a side-eyed glare that he pretended not to notice.

 

“Let’s take a look at you, Harry.”

 

It took Bill a moment to gather himself and sink into his magic so that he could perform the spell to see the bonds. As he had suspected, there were a multitude. There were the ties of House that Bill had created himself. There were bonds of friendship, deepest with Ron and Hermione, but very strong with Ginny and the twins, as well as, of course, plenty lighter bonds to friends not near enough for Bill to know specifically who they belonged to.

 

Then there were the sibling relationships. There were strands to each of them. But there was also one to Mum, and the broken one to Dad that all of the siblings shared now. Bill hadn’t considered that aspect. That was going to make breaking the sibling bonds far more difficult than he had expected.

 

He was surprised to find a jumbled mess of bonds with Hermione. Yes, there was the expected friendship. But then there were two others that were mixed and tangled. One was the House bond he himself had created when he declared her a foundling of the House Potter. It wasn’t exactly a sibling bond, but close. That one wasn’t as strong as it could be if Harry declared it himself, either claiming her as a full sibling or making her an official foundling under House Potter instead of being merely recognized as such by another House. It was intimately tied with a more naturally formed family bond that was almost sibling-like as well. That one was a little odd, though. There was just the tiniest bit of attraction and romantic twist to it, as though the bond could have gone a different direction if either Harry or Hermione had let it.

 

That was a surprise. He wondered if Harry was fully aware he had felt that way. Bill shook his head and began the arduous task before him.

 

After half an hour, he pulled back, sweating and in intense need of a nap. Harry looked uncomfortable. Ginny had gotten bored enough she was looking through a Witch Weekly from months ago, before they had to abandon the Burrow. Seeing it reminded Bill again of all the things they should have gotten done before Mum came home, to keep her from thinking any more about the war than she undoubtedly would anyway.

 

Sighing, Bill said, “They’re holding tight so far. Let me try from Ginny’s side.”

 

His sister asked, “Will I have to sit still the whole time?”

 

“Yes, but it shouldn’t take as long from your side.”

 

“And when you’re done, we’ll be okay again?” she pressed.

 

“I don’t know,” he told her with a sad sigh. Bill was almost certain he knew the answer, but he didn’t want to disappoint them until he had to. 

 

Ginny was far less complicated, as he had expected. It was interesting to see that she had quite a few lines of past romance and nearly all of her friendships were heavily mixed with attraction. Many included a bit of romance as well. And the link to Fleur - to his wife - blew Bill’s mind. None of that was anything he had necessarily wanted to know, from a big brother perspective. On the other hand, he probably didn’t need to worry that she would be bereft over the loss of Harry as a partner.

 

It was Harry he was more concerned about. This felt like pushing him out somehow, even though it was really because his sibling bond to Ginny, as well as the rest of them, was too strong to break.

 

He felt a hand brush his shoulder in the real world and then Fleur’s magic was with his. They worked together often enough that words weren’t needed as she assessed the situation as well. He felt the silvery laugh in her magic when she noticed the bond that connected to herself. Bill felt goosebumps pop out all over his body at that and had to remind himself to focus. He could take advantage of whatever her new thoughts might be later.

 

A moment of magical signals between them and Fleur began working from Harry’s end of the bonds while Bill tried to tease the ties apart from Ginny’s. It didn’t take long to face the unfortunate fact that this wasn’t going to work, even with two of them working on it.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said with a gasp as he pulled himself out of the tangled web of bonds. “It’s possible a ritual could break through, but nothing short of that would be enough.”

 

Harry looked like he might cry. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he asked, “What would happen with a ritual?”

 

Bill shook his head. “It’s hard to say without finding one specifically to work with.”

 

“Everyzing I can zeenk of would sever all of your ties to ze ‘ole family,” Fleur explained.

 

“What about the Family Legacies?” Harry asked desperately.

 

Thinking about it, Bill slowly shook his head again. “I don’t think… the Weasley Legacies focus heavily on family. We could look, but I doubt there will be anything there to break the bonds of brotherhood.”

 

“My Legacies from the Potter line? Or the Prewetts?” 

 

He was sounding increasingly frantic when Ginny reached out her hand for his. “Harry,” she said far more gently than Ginny usually spoke. “I would rather have you as a brother than nothing at all. We can be okay like this.”

 

Harry’s lips pressed together and he practically leapt from the sofa to pace. “Course it is for you,” he said sadly. “You’ve got Mione. I’m alone.”

 

Ginny snorted at him. “You have all of us, you git. It’s just getting laid that’s off the table.”

 

The delicious sound of Fleur’s laugh did things to Bill that he shouldn’t be thinking about in his sister’s presence. It took him a moment to realize that her Veela charms were rising without her intention. He put a hand on her back in a motion they had long agreed would let her know her control was slipping. Fleur blushed, then fought herself back into control, though he noticed her eyes were lingering on his sister a little differently than usual.

 

Clearing his throat, Bill said, “Oddly, Hermione is the only person you would still be able to do whatever you wished with.”

 

“What? That’s impossible,” Harry insisted, though Bill noticed that his eyes had dilated the tiniest bit. “ She really is my sister!”

 

“Not quite,” Fleur said, more herself again. “Ze bond with ‘er eez only seemilar to a sibling bond.”

 

“It’s because I, acting as the Head of another House, recognized her as a foundling of yours rather than you personally claiming her,” Bill explained.

 

“Of course I claim her!” Harry almost shouted, dropping back into place on the sofa with his hands tugging at his hair.

 

Ginny screeched, “Don’t you dare put any magic behind that!” before he could think to do so.

 

Harry looked startled at her outcry, but calmed when she added, “If you’re going to claim anyone else that way, it needs to be done intentionally so you don’t tangle up anything else you don’t mean to.”

 

Bill continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted. “If you claim her - intentionally - as your sister, then the bond will be just as strong to her, maybe stronger, as the ones to each of us Weasleys. But you could also officially claim her as a foundling of House Potter instead.”

 

“What does that mean?” Harry asked.

 

“Hermione would have all the protections of House Potter. She would have access to all of the Potter properties unless specifically blocked from them. If you declared it so, she and any of her progeny could inherit from your House. She just wouldn’t be related to you.”

 

Harry shook his head slowly. “I just don’t understand the difference between all that and whatever ties you’re saying we have now.”

 

“Because another House declared they recognized her as such, she already, from a magical standpoint, has the protections, but they would be stronger if you do something official. By recognizing her as an extension of House Potter, I was also able to include her in the vow of being an Ally to our House. It was more expedient than figuring out how to declare that for a muggleborn. There has to be a way, but I don’t know it and time was of the essence.”

 

Bill watched the younger man nervously. He didn’t want Harry to be upset by what he did, but he still wasn’t quite willing to apologize for it. There hadn’t been any other way at that moment. 

 

Finally, Harry nodded. “I understand why you did it that way. And it wasn’t really that bond that mucked everything up anyway. It was my vow about you all being my brothers.”

 

He wasn’t wrong, but Bill hedged it with, “Mixing that with the ties involving Hermione and then all of us marrying her jumbled things even more, though. Fleur and I working together might have been able to undo it without that.”

 

Harry shrugged and sighed. “It doesn’t much matter now.” 

 

Ginny caught Harry’s hand and said, “Let’s go out and do some flying practice. When was the last time you were on a pitch?”

 

“Merlin, I don’t even know,” Harry said as she led him away. 

 

Bill dropped onto the sofa and put his head in his hands. Fleur scooted closer. “You deed what you could, Beel. They weel be okay.”

 

He leaned into her. “I know. I just. It’s another thing we’ve lost. Or they have lost, at least, but all of us were looking forward to them being together.”

 

“There weel be uzzer things to look forward to,” Fleur assured him, brushing a strand of long, red hair off his face.

 

Deciding he could tease her a little rather than drowning in his sorrow and guilt, Bill slyly said, “Like some special girl time?”

 

He laughed when Fleur’s cheeks stained red in a beautiful way. Leaning forward to brush his lips against hers, Bill soon found himself laying back on the sofa with Fleur nearly on top of him, claiming every inch for herself.

 

“Get a room,” Charlie said cheerfully as he walked through toward the doorway out.

 

“Where are you going?” Bill asked. He was suddenly envisioning Charlie back at the Reserve and had to swallow hard to make sure he didn’t burst into tears. 

 

“Just out to Dad’s workshop. Hermione and the twins snuck off to figure out something for the funeral tomorrow.”

 

Charlie was out the door before Bill could say anything more. He fought off the urge to follow. Some part of him wanted to bask in their wife’s presence very much. But Fleur was running her hands through his hair and he tried his best to relax against her and forget absolutely everything going on. Mum would be home too soon and any hope of relaxation would be gone.

 

*******************

 

“Yessss. Just like that,” Hermione moaned. 

 

George was trying not to focus on what his twin was doing to her over on the workbench. Someone had to figure out how Dad got this old cassette player thing to work on magic. He almost had it.

 

The door to the shed squeaked open. Looking over his shoulder, George saw Charlie frozen in the doorway, his eyes trained on Hermione and what Fred was doing to her. It took Hermione actually saying something for Fred to stop. Even then, he stood defiantly in front of her, glaring at Charlie.

 

Through the bond, George could feel that Hermione was worried and irritated, though which emotion was caused by which brother, he wasn’t sure. Fred was feeling angry and possessive, not that George particularly needed the bond to tell that. He started to say something, but Hermione spoke first.

 

“Come here, Charlie.”

 

It seemed to take forever before he started moving. George was concerned by the wild look in his eyes as he made his way slowly to the workbench, half hurt, half fury. It wasn’t like Charlie to be jealous and angry. But it also wasn’t like him to stick around and face emotions as strong as these seemed to be. Perhaps Hermione was right that he was going to try.

 

When Charlie reached them, Hermione reached for him with one hand, and Fred with the other. “I know this is hard,” she said, “but you both have to get used to me being with others. I… care for each of you and I want all of us to be happy together.”

 

George felt his eyebrows raise when the overwhelming emotion from her wasn’t just “care” but an overwhelming sense of love and home. Her eyes met his for a brief moment and George knew he was included in that, too.

 

“I want that, too,” Charlie said, his deep voice straining against whatever emotions were swirling through him. He was obviously still struggling.

 

Fred looked stubborn, but with a stern look from Hermione, he said, “I can try. We’re your soul bonded, though. I feel like George and I should come first.”

 

“No,” Hermione stated flatly. “I will not treat the others as though they aren’t as important to me when they are. Fred, you have to accept it, especially when the two of you get to be my husbands publicly and in front of your Mum.”

 

Charlie shuddered at that statement. “May I… I won’t get to touch Hermione for a while,” he managed to say. George suddenly realized why he was there and decided it was time he step in before Fred could be a git again.

 

“I don’t want to interrupt, but Fred, could you help me with this? I think I almost have it.”

 

Annoyance shot through their bond from his twin, but he felt only gratitude from Hermione. Merlin they all needed to work on not projecting their feelings at each other. Her gratitude was irritating Fred even more. Yet another thing to worry about once they finally made it through tomorrow.

 

For now, George began to explain what he thought was going on with the cassette player. To his relief, Fred was soon lost in the magical theory and work they were doing. He wasn’t paying attention to the way their brother tenderly held Hermione or that Charlie’s hand had slid under her skirt and he was slowly, gently working her back up to the heights Fred had her at. He was keeping her busy with kisses so that the sounds she would be making were hidden. George was honestly impressed by how respectful Charlie was being while still showing an intense amount of passion for their girl.

 

Not that George was watching, of course. Or turned on by the sight of Hermione enjoying herself so thoroughly. That waves of her ecstasy were echoing through the bond might have had something to do with how he was feeling, but he was genuinely surprised Fred wasn’t reacting.

 

I’ve shut her out, Fred answered through their twinspeak. I can’t concentrate if I listen in on that.

 

So you are aware of what they’re doing?

 

It would be bloody hard to miss it. Fred’s inner voice and emotions were turbulent, tinged with irritation and jealousy, but he continued I’m trying. I know she’s right and I have to get over this. Better Charlie than, say, Ron. 

 

With that, Fred switched to speaking aloud. “That should about do it.” With a final wave of his wand, music filled the workshop. 

 

It was perfectly timed as Hermione cried out just then. George was relieved that the full bondgasm didn’t occur. He wasn’t on his knees or coming in his pants like the times when the bonds were sealed. But he was achingly turned on and wondered idly if the difference was that it didn’t seal a bond or if it was more about the intensity of her orgasm or… there were so many possibilities. They would all learn with time, he supposed.

 

For now, he would very much like a turn. But he also noticed how intimate the moment seemed to be between Charlie and Hermione. He had never seen his dragon-obsessed brother so taken with a woman. It was somewhat baffling that the marriage bond had affected him so strongly when Percy, Bill, and Ron were fine without her. Well, Ron perhaps had reason. And George wasn’t sure if Bill wasn’t affected or if he was just hiding from it. But Percy definitely wasn’t reacting much and George would have expected Charlie to be the same way.

 

Before he could ponder further, Ron burst into the shed. “She’s here,” he announced. “And she’s looking for everyone.”

 

“What’s she like?” Fred asked. George could feel his wariness through the bond and it was making his own more pronounced.

 

Ron scratched the back of his head. “Better than I expected. She is worried we all hate her and torn up about Dad, of course.”

 

George sighed in relief. That wasn’t great, but so much better than the combative and angry version of her that he had feared they would face. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Charlie relax slightly into Hermione’s arms. She was whispering something to him. Fred was nodding and his emotions seemed a little calmer now.

 

Speaking up, Hermione said, “Everyone please remember we’re going to try to just distract her if she goes after anyone. Someone else will step in and others will help the person if they need it. I will take the heat if need be.”

 

All the boys nodded and started shuffling for the door. Charlie picked her up off the bench and they indulged in a last, lingering kiss before she left his side, taking hold of George’s arm instead.

 

By the time they reached the sitting room, Fred walked on her other side. With a collective deep breath, the three of them entered the room, Charlie behind them in silent support. 

 

“You’re all here!” Mum sobbed. Her face was red from all the tears and intense emotions. “I was afraid some of you wouldn’t… I didn’t give her an interview! I wouldn’t!”

 

“You still said those things,” Fred said, then yelped a little as George stomped on his twin’s foot. They weren’t supposed to try and rile Mum up. 

 

She cried even louder and gasped through her tears, “I’m so sorry! All of you. I shouldn’t have said those things. Of course I didn’t really mean- ”

 

Bill put a hand consolingly on her shoulder before she could ruin the apology. “It’s okay, Mum.” It looked like he was going to go on, perhaps tell her that they believed her, but a subtle head shake from Percy and Bill stopped the words.

 

“We forgive you,” George added. He was thankful when Fred bit back the hateful words George knew he wanted to say about never forgetting it. 

 

Mum stood and practically threw herself at one of them after another. Crushing them to her in the tight embrace she always used, albeit more wet than usual. George found himself crying, too, and noticed that everyone else was as well. 

 

When she came to Hermione, Mum hesitated for a single moment before saying, “Welcome to the family, dear. Officially now.” 

 

“Thank you, Molly. I’m glad to be a part of the Weasleys.”

 

George knew that his feeling of relief was shared by all. When Mum let go of Hermione, he and Fred quickly moved to either side of her again, pulling her close. 

 

“This is going to be okay,” Hermione said quietly to them with a smile. 

 

George had a bad feeling about hearing that statement out loud. Mum’s next words confirmed what a bad idea that had been.

 

“I’m still confused, Hermione, why you wanted the twins when it seemed like you’ve been following Ron around forever,” Mum said with her baby boy held in yet another hug. 

 

“It was a life or death situation,” Bill began but was drowned out by Ron. 

 

His eyes had widened. “Mum! Hermione and I are just friends.”

 

“That’s rubbish! I know when a girl fancies someone.”

 

“Well not this time,” Hermione told her. “Ron and I were always together because of the things we needed to help Harry with. I love him dearly, of course, but as a friend.”

 

“I don’t believe-“

 

“Mum,” Percy began, his hand on her elbow. “Fleur and Harry and some of the others have a nice dinner ready. I’m sure you would like some good food after so many days of only having what St. Mungo’s managed to prepare in their pathetic excuse of a kitchen. I dare say it shouldn’t be referred to as actual food.” The whole time he was talking, he was carefully leading her away and George had never been more thankful. 

 

“You kids shouldn’t have gone to the trouble. I do the cooking around here,” Mum grumbled. George knew she must be itching to get back in her domain, which was unquestionably the kitchen. Perhaps it would be healing to let her back in her old routines sooner than planned. At the moment, he was just glad her attention had been as easily diverted as they had all hoped. 

 

“Not for a few days,” Charlie said gruffly. “You’re to rest, Mum.” As much as he didn’t want to be around for the criticisms Mum typically piled on him, George knew Charlie missed her and wished things were better. He was used to caring for dragons. If they followed the Healer’s orders to the letter, Charlie would be more able to handle carrying them out than the rest of them. If he could stand it.

 

Mum leveled an angry stare, first at Charlie, then all around the room, “I am the Mum here and I won’t be run out of my own kitchen. Your father will want…” 

 

She crumbled when the realization hit her all over again. They all rushed to her side, helping her to a chair. Fleur and Hermione looked at one another over Harry and the sea of redheads, a quick nod sending them both to gather dinner and unobtrusively move it to the table. Without making a big deal of it, the two women efficiently had a plate in front of everyone and the family spread out to eat the rather subdued feast. 

 

George was so thankful when Hermione slid into the seat between him and Fred. Dealing with all three of their emotions and Mum was exhausting. While they ate, Hermione occasionally touched one of their hands or leaned closer to one of them for a moment. It seemed silly, but the connection gave him a strength he didn’t think he would have had otherwise. 

 

Charlie had sat directly across the table and George was aware that Hermione’s feet were tangled with his. Ginny was on his other side and kept reaching across to grab hold of Hermione’s hand or arm. If Mum noticed anything odd about that, she didn’t mention it, but he suspected the possibility never crossed her mind. 

 

The group dove into their food, but far more quietly than a normal meal at The Burrow. Soon all anyone could hear was the vague sounds of chewing and the clatter of cutlery. Somehow, those sounds only managed to amplify the silence between them, making it even more noticeable.

 

Finally, the silence was broken. “This food was much better than the hospital’s,” Mum said graciously.

 

Fleur smiled at her and said, “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” 

 

“I appreciate how hard you try, dear.”

 

Fleur’s smile was even tighter, but Harry jumped in, “I think the roast I did is a little too dry, but Fleur’s treacle tart is the best I’ve ever had.”

 

Mum’s jaw dropped at the implication that it was better than hers. Fleur stared at him with just as much surprise, then bustled around the table to kiss his cheek. “You are ze sweetest boy! And I weel make you all ze treacle tart you want.”

 

“Hey, what about me?” Fred asked, mock hurt on his face. “I think your tart is wonderful, too!” He waggled his eyebrows in a way that made her roll her eyes and turn to Hermione. 

 

“‘Ow do you put up weeth ‘im?” she asked with her tinkling laugh. 

 

George laughed along with everyone else. Except Mum, he noticed. She was crying again. Strangely, Ron seemed to have noticed as well.

 

“What’s wrong, Mum?”

 

“You’ve all replaced me! My Arthur is gone and my children don’t even believe me or want me around!” she wailed.

 

“Of course we do, Mum!” they answered almost in chorus, rushing to calm her.

 

Ginny was the only one who held back, shaking her head as if the whole scene was unacceptable. Pinching her lips into a tight line, though, she joined the hug as well. George didn’t need a soul link with her to know his little sister was silently chanting that they needed each other and needed a united front tomorrow.

 

Mum’s tears became whole body sobs as she just cried Arthur’s name over and over while the family tried to reassure her they were there and wouldn’t leave. Finally, Hermione and Fleur, speaking in hushed tones, drugged a cup of tea with Dreamless Sleep, then Charlie carried her to the downstairs bedroom and tucked her in.

 

As he left the room with her, there was a collective sigh of relief. 

 

“That could have been a lot worse,” Fred said. George was surprised at how calm Fred felt through the bond, especially knowing how tense he had been before.

 

Hermione, on the other hand, was exhausted and seemed near a breaking point. He could feel her stubbornness, the determination not to let go. He wasn’t about to let that stand, but he would give her a few more minutes with the family before pushing her upstairs. His eyes met Fred’s and he knew they were in accord.

 

“I can’t believe the way she was trying to guilt trip us,” Ginny was fuming. “About liking someone else’s cooking, of all things!”

 

“Eet eez not ze time to worry over such things. Sometimes eet eez ze very smallest things that break you apart when you are grieving,” Fleur said gently, a sadness in her eyes suggesting she knew this from experience. Bill moved behind her and encircled her in his arms, further proving this was a difficult topic for her.

 

“Whatever the case, we’ve made it through this first trial,” Percy said succinctly. “I’ve got to be getting home if I’m to be back in the morning looking half decent.”

 

“It’s our Dad’s funeral,” George found himself scoffing.

 

“We don’t have to look our best,” Fred continued.

 

Percy shook his head at them as he made his way over to Hermione. “We will all try to look our best. This is not the time to be an embarrassment to the family.”

 

Fred snickered. “Just remember when we show up in our best tomorrow that you asked for it.”

 

When Percy looked momentarily frightened, George started laughing. “I’ll rein him in a bit. Or try to. We’ll wear our second best and make sure it’s something as appropriate as we can stand.”

 

With that, their older brother swooped down on Hermione and kissed her, though he pulled back almost immediately when she wasn’t as responsive as usual. Percy’s very serious look wrinkled his brow and made his eyes a little harder when he tipped her chin up with a hand and stared into hers. “You need some of that tea you doctored, too. And soon. You need rest.”

 

Hermione huffed, but even that sounded exhausted. “We all need that, Percy. I don’t know if I should take a potion tonight, not when I might be needed for-”

 

“You won’t be,” Charlie said. His voice was soft but commanding. “We’ll take care of anything that comes up, draga. You must sleep.” For a moment, Hermione tried to look stubborn, but she was ultimately too tired to maintain it. She just nodded instead and George could see - and feel reflected on his own - the look of worry that crossed over Charlie’s face.

 

“You’re right,” she said finally, taking his calloused hand in hers. “I’m sorry I don’t take being cared for very well.”

 

“You’ll get used to it,” he told her, a look in his eyes that George had never seen before. Charlie pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly, from the lips, to her nose, up to her forehead, and one on the top of her head. “I will always be here for you.”

 

“Even when you’re the one who should be needing someone to lean on?” Hermione asked, her voice trembling with some sort of emotion.

 

“Even then,” he replied, though his eyes were red-rimmed and George suspected he intended to stay up late drinking rather than try to sleep.

 

Stepping away from Charlie, Hermione reached for Harry and Ginny, hugging them both together. Harry had his arms around both of them as they leaned in together and cried. Ron joined the other three after a moment of standing back to watch. All four of them had tears on their faces when they pulled away.

 

Bill and Fleur approached her next. To George’s surprise, Bill immediately snuggled into an embrace with Hermione. Fleur joined the two of them, pressing her lips lightly to Hermione’s just as Bill nuzzled her neck and nipped at it. She was going to need a sleep potion just to calm down after this, George suspected. 

 

Or we’re in for a fun night, Fred suggested.

 

George let out a loud laugh but subdued himself quickly. It was time now for them to lead her to bed. Well… His eyes fell on his second oldest brother, hanging back and staring at the floor. Charlie’s arms were crossed over his chest, fists clenched, and his hair was loose, hiding most of his face. Everything about his brother’s stance said he was falling apart. 

 

Before he could think what to do, Fred said, “Why don’t you sleep with us, Charlie? Mum’s too weak to climb the stairs tonight so it’s not all that risky.”

 

“Besides,” George now continued with a grin, “risk is kind of your thing.”

 

Charlie didn’t quite smile at the playful jibe, but his body language relaxed and the sheer relief on his face was worth them not getting to sandwich her. George felt a mild irritation knowing he was the one most likely to end up on Fred’s other side rather than against their girl, but he could live with it. Someday he would get a turn, too. 

 

Honestly, tonight he was thinking about Dad and curling up with his twin while he considered all the times the man had played with the two of them or done something for them felt like exactly what he needed. They made their way up to bed and he quietly put a stop to the negotiation Fred and Charlie had begun, stating he was more than willing to take the spot he had expected. Hermione kissed him sweetly and George leaned into her for a few long moments before they all slid into the oversized bed. 

 

The heavy emotions of the night hung in the air. All four of them snuggled tightly together in the middle of the bed, no negotiations of appropriate handholds or space between them necessary tonight. The three brothers needed the comfort of each other as much as they needed Hermione. George’s last thought before he fell asleep was how right this felt, being all together and taking care of each other. 

Notes:

It may be a little longer before I get the next chapter out. Partially, this is because I LOST MY MIND and joined 2 fests in under 2 days, so I'm writing like crazy for those (and trying REALLY HARD not to sign on to any of the others, but.... there's one about MUSICALS y'all). I also need to finish scenes for my co-written WIP and start writing for my other WIP again soon (it was on a month long break). But also. Arthur's funeral is going to be hard to write. I think I'll need to be in a particular mood for it and I'm still not even completely sure how I'm going to approach it/how much of the actual funeral I'll show or if I'll just do it like Remus and Tonks' or what.

Please tell me if you have strong feelings about the upcoming funeral. I also cannot WAIT to hear your responses to Percy this chapter. And I'm nervous about the reception to Molly. Oh, and Fred! Talk to me, I love it!

Chapter 14

Notes:

I finally managed to get through this behemoth chapter. It is Arthur's funeral. Grab some tissues, but I hope you're going to laugh some, too.

In case I haven't said this before, I love you guys. I have the best commenters in the world and I hope you all know how much I appreciate you taking the time to write such thoughtful responses to this story.

Something that was brought to my attention after the last chapter that I haven't addressed at all because the characters in the story haven't had time to talk about it yet: This is going to be an open polyamory relationship, meaning that, while they are all married to Hermione and she to them, none of them *have* to be exclusive. Some will choose to be, others will not. Communication is the most important part - which is going to take some work for all of them.

I am personally poly, and infinitely prefer open relationships. They're really the only thing that makes sense to me deep down. Sometimes I forget that the majority of our culture defaults to monogamy and would reasonably expect that, within a marriage, they would not be with anyone else.

So, this is just to let you know where this is going. We're exploring how these characters interact with each other and the world and how they manage this entirely new and foreign type of relationship. There will be plot as well, and lots of relationship stuff, drama with the wizarding world and with Molly, some good fluff, lots of surprises, and also a generous helping of smut - together and with others. If any of that isn't your cup of tea, I hope you can either skip the parts you don't like or I completely understand the desire to find something else to read.

Thank you to my alpha Lady Winterlight. I also had StarGirlPotter and... (I don't recall Shawna's AO3 name at the moment, but she knows who she is and I'll change this later when I'm not a space cadet) read over it as well. I have someone who will start being my official beta soon, but I didn't send her this chapter because I feel like it's been forever since I posted already.

Oh, and I don't own Harry Potter.

“We are gathered here today to honor Arthur Septimus Weasley, one of the foremost heroes among the many that were forced to step forward in this Second Wizarding War to save our people from the clutches of the man, Tom Riddle, who styled himself as Lord Voldemort.”

 

A collective gasp came from the assembled crowd. It seemed most of the wizarding world had turned out for this public part of the ceremony honoring Arthur. It could only be hoped that they would leave when they were supposed to without making a fuss. Kingsley held his hands up in a calming motion and pressed on.

 

“I know. It is hard to hear the name, but we will no longer live in fear. The monster we knew to be Lord Voldemort was nothing more than a man. He can be named now, and it is people like Arthur who made this possible. His sacrifice, and that of his family, is immeasurable.”

 

There were calls from the crowd, mentioning The Boy Who Lived Twice. Kingsley gave a nod of acknowledgement toward Harry where he sat with the Weasleys. The boy looked as pale and sad as the rest, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

 

Harry was struggling. This was his family, too. Sirius had tried to be there for him, but Harry knew Sirius had been more of a big brother or fun uncle than a father. Though he had never acknowledged it when Arthur was alive, the man had been the only real father in his life since he entered the wizarding world.

 

“Harry Potter was essential to defeat Tom Riddle, but he could not have done it alone. Arthur and his family have been beside the boy since his earliest days at Hogwarts. As we all know, young Ron was one of Harry’s faithful companions, along with Hermione Granger, now Weasley, as well. I think you can see how close and necessary those ties are.”

 

Mumbling could be heard amongst those gathered. People were fascinated by the very unexpected marriage between Harry Potter’s young muggleborn friend and the well-known Weasley twins. Rita Skeeter was grinning at the mention of Hermione tying herself to the Weasley family. All eyes were on them, and then up and down the row of redheads, Harry, Hermione, and Fleur being the only break in hair color.

 

All eight of the Weasleys were pale and looked devastated. 

 

Percy sat at the end of the row. Despite his normally rigid stance, he was falling apart, overwhelmed by grief and guilt. He was crying openly and would occasionally let out a small sob. His mother welcomed his head leaning on her shoulder and Percy was grateful for it. He needed the contact with his remaining parent far more than he needed to maintain his reputation today.

 

Molly was a wailing mess. Bill had cast something on her that, while not silencing her, muffled the loud sounds she would otherwise be making. That morning she had worked hard to get everyone up and out of the house dressed well and even gave them all a pep talk about how they could make it through the public part of the ceremony without showing the world the depth of their grief. Pureblood funerals weren’t occasions where it was appropriate to show your emotions and for once she hoped her offspring would behave appropriately. That had fallen apart the moment she saw the casket at the front of the assembly.

 

Bill was not crying, but there were tear stains on his face and it was taking everything within him to hold back. As the eldest, he knew he had a unique perspective on their father and had been blessed with the ability to know him more than any of the others. Dad was strong in his quiet way and Bill would desperately miss his wisdom and guidance, especially as he stepped into the family roles he felt so incredibly unprepared for. 

 

Bill found himself leaning heavily on Fleur, who was silently crying beside him. It had surprised most of his family that Fleur had been so affected. As usual, Bill had felt a protective anger about that fact. He knew there was grief and loss of her own reflected in her feelings today, but she had also adored his father. Arthur was a gentle, wonderful man. Anyone who knew him well would mourn.

 

Charlie looked stoic, but he was clutching George’s hand next to him with a death grip. He had no desire to grieve where people were watching, but inside Charlie wasn’t handling the loss well at all; especially being unable to touch Hermione to calm himself. He was grateful for the extra time she had spent holding him that morning, even after the twins began to run around the room getting ready and Molly was calling everyone downstairs. Hermione had done everything she could to support him. And it’s not like he would want to share his relationship with her with the world, even if the circumstances weren’t so odd. It was just that Charlie so badly needed her right now.

 

George willingly held onto his brother, even as he himself leaned on Hermione. They had spent so much time focusing on the private ceremony, the parts that were a tribute to Dad rather than a pompous recounting of the things he had done - which were many, even more than they had known about - that George had almost been blindsided all over again by the pain of losing him. He was so grateful that he and Fred were tied so closely to Hermione. He could feel both their emotions, waves of grief and worry for each other and something bordering on despair at their loss. But he could feel their strength, too, and knew that the three of them had each other to be with no matter what. It soothed his heart despite the pain.

 

Hermione, beside him, was overwhelmed by the twins’ grief as well as her own. Arthur had been her father figure in a world where her own father could not go. Of course, all of the focus on his abilities as a father made her think of her parents. They should be fine, wherever they were, but this still felt a little bit like letting them go as well. No matter towards whom the grief was directed, Hermione felt it hit her quite hard.

 

She couldn’t help but worry about the others, too. Fred and George never let go of her. Did the others need that as badly? Percy and Charlie particularly bothered her since they didn’t have people to lean on the way the others did. Percy seemed to be doing okay comforting and being comforted by Molly, but Charlie had essentially shut down to cope. Hermione wondered, with his typical emotional response to things, if that would have been the way he handled himself, even if she were able to hold him through the ceremony like she wished she could.

 

For Fred, this ceremony was torture. He never dealt well with sitting still for things, and especially when strong emotions were involved. Fred handled these things better by letting them burst out in pranks or silliness; that even he didn’t feel like indulging in those things was hard for him to accept. Harder was the deep realization that this was almost a double funeral. He could feel George’s pain now, but what would it have been like if he were gone as well? And if he didn’t have Hermione the way they did now? Because without that ritual, Fred knew quite well that she wouldn’t be with either of them. She would have been a caring friend to George, of course, but she wouldn’t have loved him the way she did now. And he would have been alone in a way they were never meant to be. It made Fred cry all the harder, thinking of what everyone did for him, what they had lost, but also what they had gained. He made a promise to himself that he would stop taking it for granted.

 

Ron was on Fred’s other side. His eyes were red and swollen; his throat was hoarse from all the loud crying he had been doing. If the twins were feeling themselves, they would no doubt have teased him nonstop about being nearly as bad as Mum. Ron didn’t care one bit. He had loved Dad. He never felt like he got as much attention from him as he wanted, but it hadn’t changed how much he looked up to the man who had never stopped fighting for his children to be happy. 

 

Harry sat beside his best mate. Ron leaned into him some, and Harry didn’t mind offering him a shoulder when he needed it. So many people had died. He knew it was Voldemort’s fault rather than his own, but he still found himself feeling guilty. If he could have done more, done it faster, better, maybe Arthur might have still been here. He had been such a good man. He should still be here, just like his own parents should. And Sirius. And Remus, Tonks. So many good people. Harry tried not to think about it so he wouldn’t cry so hard, but it wasn’t working.

 

Ginny couldn’t stop crying either. She had handled the morning relatively well. It was hearing Mum start up that had pushed her over the edge. Honestly, as much as she loved her Dad, she hadn’t been very close to him. Bill and Charlie had been more influential for her than he had. She suspected that was true of all the younger siblings, but Dad had still always been there and they had certainly felt his love. How was the future going to look without him?

 

Kingsley had been talking for some time now about the various things Arthur had done as a father, a Ministry worker, and especially for the war efforts. Now, Hermione clenched each of the twins by the hand as he got to the point of allowing this whole thing to be so public. 

 

“My fine witches and wizards, the Ministry wishes to acknowledge and celebrate the sacrifices that were made. For Arthur’s great service to the wizarding world, the House of Weasley will regain its status as a Noble House. The House of Weasley will not be the only one who receives this distinction, but let them be the first, honored now as we lay to rest their patriarch. William,” he called, gesturing for Bill to join him at the podium. 

 

As Bill stood to make his way to the front, his Mum made an angry noise at him, putting her hand on him in a way that almost pushed him over. Her face was screwed up with fury. Percy yanked her back, letting Bill pass, and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

 

“The reporters are watching, Mum. You don’t want to be in another of Skeeter’s articles, do you?”

 

“Your brother has no business marching up there like he’s the head of the family.” The only reason Molly’s voice didn’t carry to everyone in attendance was because of the muffling spell Bill had used earlier. 

 

Percy refrained from rolling his eyes, instead whispering to her as Kingsley bestowed the title and other accoutrements on their Head of House. “This is about Dad’s time as head of the family,” Percy reminded her. “This honor is for him. Please be proud of our Dad.” 

 

Molly started crying again, but clapped at the right places. Bill was shaking with all the overwhelming emotions when he sat back down, stunned by this turn of events. It was a large enough step forward for their House, that he almost forgot Mum’s behavior on his way up. Almost. Thankfully, Kingsley wasn’t finished, and Bill’s attention was called back up to him.

 

“It goes without saying that Arthur will receive a posthumous Order of Merlin, First Class. Because yesterday’s funeral was meant to be private and we had not yet finalized our plans of honor, I would like to also note that there will be other war heroes receiving this honor, including Remus Lupin and his wife, Nymphadora Tonks Lupin.”

 

Murmurs moved through the crowd again. No one could argue that this wasn’t deserved, but they were giving an Order of Merlin to a werewolf?  

 

There were enough nasty comments that Harry rose from his seat and turned to address the crowd. “Without Remus Lupin, I would have died in my third year at Hogwarts. He was a wonderful man who was very dangerous one night a month. He was one of my father, James Potter’s closest friends, and Remus worked tirelessly against Voldemort. He was also a good friend of Arthur Weasley’s, so if you have a problem with someone because of a curse that was forced on them, leave here now.” All of the Weasleys except Molly stood beside him, including Fleur and Hermione. 

 

“You do not honor my father,” Bill began, “if you still hold such prejudice close in your heart. He just… we all just fought a war to be done with prejudice.”

 

George spoke out next. “Take a good look at yourself before you judge those who died to keep you safe.”

 

“Or those of us who fought and are still here,” Ginny added, chin held high. She was thinking of the way the media had already treated them, and how people would react if the truth of their family marriage eventually came out.

 

“We are young, but we have been through things many of you can only imagine,” Ron said, his voice strong and carrying, reminding Hermione of the way he spoke during the ritual.

 

“And we are strong for it,” she told the crowd. “And we will not stop until our world is just as strong as we were forced to be.”

 

As they talked, Harry had moved, Accioed a chair over to the end of their line and helped Andromeda move to it. The statement was very clear that she and Teddy were family, too. Ginny welcomed the older woman and smiled at the baby, making it clear that the blood Weasleys agreed with Harry’s choice.

 

Kingsley cleared his throat and the Weasleys turned to him as one, each of them nodding or, in Percy’s case, giving a slight bow, before sitting back down. Molly immediately began scolding Bill, but he just shook his head at her and said, “Later.”

 

Before things could get out of hand again, Kingsley wrapped up his words, reiterating what a wonderful man Arthur had been and how much he will be missed. The Weasleys were all teary-eyed again by the time he was done. When they began to play the Celestina Warbeck song that had been “theirs,” Molly began wailing again, and this time the muffling spell wasn’t enough to hide her grief.

 

As the Aurors herded people off the grounds, many stopped by to offer their condolences. Molly stayed where she was to receive them, with Percy and Bill by her side, but the rest of the family removed themselves to a small copse of trees at the back of the marquee. Mostly hidden, Hermione finally felt like it was safe enough for her to check on everyone and hug them at least, even if kissing was too risky.

 

Charlie was the first she gathered into her arms. He stayed the same impassive wall of muscle for a moment, before melting against her with a sob. She was focused solely on him, but from the corner of her eye, she noticed Harry, Ron, and the twins taking up positions to shield them from view. Ginny was on Charlie’s side, patting his back as well, offering what little support he would take.

 

When he had calmed, Ginny squirmed her way into Hermione’s embrace. Nuzzling her nose into Hermione’s neck, the younger girl gave a sigh of relief. “I feel like we’ve been on display all morning. I don’t want the whole world to see how heartbroken I am to lose my Dad,” Ginny said.

 

“I know,” Hermione replied, noticing that her voice had automatically switched to something resembling a coo as she tried to give her wife as much comfort as she could manage.

 

Ginny didn’t seem interested in letting go, so Hermione reached around her for Ron. He came to her easily, but just for a long side hug. “I’ve been crying the whole time - don’t even pretend you haven’t heard me - so I’m not that needy. But it feels good to hug you like this,” he whispered into her hair. She felt a few tears on his cheek as it pressed against hers.

 

“Who says you’re the one who needed that?” she whispered back. Ron blinked, then pulled her closer even as Ginny gave him a look. “Ginny,” Hermione admonished. “Ron is still one of you and we need each other in the way we’ve always been friends.” She didn’t feel like she could be more plin in public where they might be overheard. 

 

The marquee was nearly empty now and the Ministry officials who were setting everything up were bustling around to arrange the last of what was needed for the private part of the ceremony. Fred and George gave them a look, each kissed Hermione on a cheek, and headed up to the front to do some set up of their own.

 

Harry was the only one left unless she could scrape up the courage to see Percy and Bill in front of Molly. She hugged him, relaxing into his familiar scent as they cried together. “You were so brave, standing up for Remus like you did,” Hermione told him softly. 

 

“I will tell them that a thousand times a day if I have to. I will not have Remus remembered as anything except the hero he was.”

 

Hermione squeezed him and then murmured that she should go check on the others. Harry glanced worriedly toward Molly and nodded. “I’ll come with you. It won’t kill me to hug everyone as well.” It would be better cover for Hermione, too. Just something the family did for each other.

 

Approaching the front, she came up to Molly first. “Mrs. Weasley, how are you holding on?” she asked carefully, not sure what else to say. 

 

“Call me Mum, dear,” Molly told her, crushing her in a very wet hug. “Arthur would have been so pleased to have you here with us as one of the family, even if it wasn’t quite the way we expected.” 

 

Not seeing a good way to handle that conversation in public, Hermione just nodded and returned the hug. Afterward, she stepped over to Percy. As Hermione reached out for him, he stepped back, a slight shake of his head somehow communicating that he wasn’t trying to upset her, just staying within his own boundaries. He did let her take his hand and squeeze it. He gave her a teary smile as they touched, however lightly.

 

As Hermione shifted to the final Weasley sibling, Bill beat her to the hug, and she suddenly found herself sandwiched between him and Fleur. On the side closest to the marquee, where no one would be able to see, Fleur grazed a hand down Hermione’s hip, pulling her slightly closer to both of them. Bill gave a tiny grunt of surprise and looked questioningly at his wife. Hermione wasn’t sure what they were silently communicating to one another, but she knew the way they made her feel wasn’t appropriate at a funeral while they were all mourning. 

 

She extracted herself from their embrace, asking tiredly how they were faring. Bill and Fleur both kept hold of her hands, making it look somehow natural as only Fleur could do, as they talked. 

 

“I’m coping,” he assured her. “I can’t… I can’t believe he is gone, and this makes it so much more real than I could have imagined before. But he would be proud of all of us, I think.”

 

“And glad you all are steel ‘ere,” Fleur added, using her free hand to brush a strand of his long hair behind his ear. “All ‘e wanted was for ‘is family to be safe.”

 

Bill sniffled, but managed to hold it together for the moment. Kingsley beckoned to him, so he left his two wives and headed in that direction.

 

“Are you okay ‘Ermione?” Fleur asked, her blue eyes staring seriously into Hermione’s brown ones. 

 

“I’m… fine. This is just… I’m so sad we lost such a good, sweet man. And how can the family recover from losing him? I’m also thinking of my own parents. They...” Hermione felt a new gush of tears she couldn’t hold back and Fleur caught her arm, pulled her close.

 

“Zis eez natural, little love. I lost my Maman a few months ago. She was working een a ‘ospital when ze Death Eaters attacked. We thought she was safe, my whole family, because zey were een France. That wretched man deed not care where zey were. ‘E just wanted to ‘urt and keel people,” Fleur let out a tiny sob and took a moment to compose herself before continuing. “You don’t ‘ave to tell me, but… I am ‘appy to listen. Deed ‘e get… deed something ‘appen to your parents as well?”

 

Hermione felt like she couldn’t breathe for a moment, the fear and sadness were so overwhelming. “I… no, at least I hope… We were going on the run. And they - my parents - they’re muggles, you know. So I… I needed to keep them safe.”

 

“Zat eez understandable, ‘Ermione,” Fleur soothed.

 

“But what I did… if they’re still okay, I… I don’t know if they’ll ever forgive me.”

 

“Families weel forgive much. And you don’t ‘ave to tell me eef zis eez too much.”

 

Closing her eyes, Hermione finally admitted the truth, “I changed their memories, Fleur. I made them believe they were different people, took away all knowledge of magic, of… me. I made them forget they ever had a daughter. I gave them a strong desire to move to Australia.”

 

Fleur’s breath caught, but she didn’t openly gasp. It was a moment before she seemed to recover. “Weeth everything you were going through, eet was what you could do, ‘Ermione. Zat was a terrible choice to ‘ave to make, but I am sure eet kept zem safe.”

 

Fred materialized next to them. “Mione, love, what’s wrong?” 

 

His arm slipped around her. He could feel her trembling even though she was shaking her head. “I’m… just sad,” she told him, but Fred was certain it was more than that. They had all been sad all day. This was an intense emotional response he was feeling from her. Of course she had cared about his Dad, but this was something else, something that belonged to her alone. He could tell. But the look Fleur was giving him made him fairly certain that caution was needed. 

 

“I know, wifey. We’re all sad. But that was intense, and I want you to know I’m here, and so is Georgie,” he nodded over at his twin who had appeared on Hermione’s other side, “and we want to listen if it’s something you need to talk about.”

 

“Or just be here to hold you if that’s what you need instead,” George said, sliding his arms around her, too. 

 

Hermione let herself be wrapped by the twins, crying onto one of their shoulders, she wasn’t even sure which. It took a few minutes for her to realize they were both crying, as well. Wondering if Fleur thought them incredibly rude, she was relieved to look over the shoulder she was crying on - Fred’s - and see her back with Bill.

 

Nuzzling into his neck, Hermione gripped George’s hand and pulled him closer. The three of them were cocooned in their own little world when a flash went off, bathing them in its bright light. Fred pressed her closer against George and went striding away toward the journalist.

 

The look on Fred’s face must be as angry as he felt, since the man had taken off at a sprint as Fred began to follow him. The moment they were out of the marquee, someone grabbed him. The reflexes he had been forced to hone through the war kicked in and, by the time he came to a complete standstill, his wand was at Rita Skeeter’s throat as he stared at her murderously.

 

“I would apologize for my reaction,” he said, “except I’m not sorry. Aside from how much I already dislike you, Skeeter, you need to learn some control on touching people who’ve been through a war or you’ll end up stunned or worse.”

 

“Are you threatening me?” she asked, looking gleeful at the prospect.

 

Fred grit his teeth. “Unfortunately, no. I’m trying to help you.”

 

“Well, thank you for that,” she dismissed, “Now why don’t you let me help you?”

 

“Nothing you put in that rag you call a paper is going to help us.”

 

“Well, not at the moment,” she agreed with an evil smile. “But my article might see you in a better light if you give me some quotes.”

 

“As if any of us would believe you won’t twist those words, too,” Hermione huffed from where she and George had just walked up, having clearly come looking for Fred when he didn’t return.

 

“Ah, Miss Granger… I’m sorry, Mrs. Weasley. What’s it like to be married to two identical twins? Do you mix them up? Get overwhelmed between two men? Are they treating you well enough?”

 

“Get. Out.” 

 

Hermione’s command was, thankfully, overheard by one of the Ministry workers who had been finishing the switch from public to private. “Is this woman bothering you?” she asked.

 

“Yes. I’m not sure how she is even still here,” Hermione said, trying not to sound angry with the workers. But really, why hadn’t Rita Skeeter of all people been escorted out with the rest of the press?

 

“Oh, but my dear girl, Arthur Weasley was my third cousin twice removed and I’m so sad about-”

 

“OUT,” the twins bellowed together. 

 

Bill appeared, having heard their cry. “I’ll help make sure you find the other side of the wards,” he offered in a way that was not an offer at all. 

 

He let every ounce of wolfishness he had gained come out when he smiled at Skeeter. She backed away from him, but was caged in by the twins, and a silent Charlie who had appeared as well. Without waiting for her answer, Bill tucked Skeeter’s hand in his arm like a gentleman and began half-dragging her away from them all in a very ungentlemanly way.

 

When he got her outside the wards, he turned to the woman who had already caused them so much trouble. “You are not welcome here or anywhere near any member of the Weasley family. Stay away from us.”

 

“But the public wants to know all about our dearest war heroes, especially the newly honored House Weasley. For an exclusive interview, I might think about writing this in your favor,” she said, eyes gleaming.

 

“You will do more than think about it if you’re smart. I strongly suggest you stick strictly to the truth in your reports about us,” Bill growled.

 

“Oh, I can actually promise that,” Rita told him, an evil smile on her face. She turned and walked away, the man with the camera joining her and talking animatedly as they left. 

 

Bill couldn’t help but feel nervous about her answer, but he knew there wasn’t time to worry about it. There were too many other things to be sad and worried about right now.

 

Inside the marquee, Ron was watching his Mum fall apart from afar. Percy hadn’t left her side since that morning and Ron was beginning to feel guilty for avoiding the two of them so much. He just knew, if he got too close, that he would lose his own composure. That was the last thing he wanted today. Ron knew he was overdue to fall apart himself; so much had happened, aside from losing Dad, that it was almost inevitable for him to break down. But he didn’t want to do it in front of everyone, even just his family. He was fine to cry and let himself feel the grief today, but the full weight of the war? The only people he might accept to be around for that would be Harry and Hermione. 

 

Getting Hermione away from his siblings was hard, though, and only going to get harder he suspected. Today she had to belong to the twins, though he, Harry, and Ginny would probably be the next set of people who could get away with her attention. Ron sighed, wishing she could be with them right now.

 

Harry looked up at him. He was busy holding Ginny, but Ron was pleased that his friend still spared him a worried look. “You holding up?” Harry asked, ignoring the tears in his own eyes. 

 

Ron nodded at him. “Just wish we could go play Quidditch or Exploding Snap or-”

 

“Literally anything except sit around talking about our dead Dad?” Ginny sniffled.

 

“Yeah,” Ron huffed a small laugh. “I’m ready for this to be over.”

 

“The twins have something big planned,” Ginny observed. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

 

Harry cleared his throat. “I distinctly recall hearing them use the words ‘Best Life Party’ earlier.”

 

Ron groaned and Ginny snorted. “It could be what we all need,” she said.

 

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Harry said, standing. “I think the ceremony is about to begin.”

 

There weren’t that many people left for the private part. The family was large enough as it was. Andromeda and Teddy were there. Hagrid, McGonagall, and Flitwick. Kingsley had stayed, but that was the last of the Order still alive. It was worrisome how few of them there were now. Theoretically, the services of the Order of the Phoenix were at an end. 

 

Of course that wasn’t entirely true with Death Eaters still on the loose, but the Aurors were chasing them now. It wasn’t necessary for the Order to save the day.

 

Percy recognized a number of Arthur’s close colleagues. Most of the rest of the crowd consisted of his siblings’ friends. His own “friends” weren’t the sort one invited to things like this, only one person had come because of him particularly. Miss Penny was there; his siblings recognized her as his ex-girlfriend from Hogwarts, Penelope. Percy had never been the best at making friends so he was glad Mum needed him as much as she did. He wouldn’t have wanted to stand around alone and he had a feeling that’s exactly what might have happened. If he hadn’t been instrumental in saving Fred - if this had been a funeral for him, too - would his siblings have even allowed him to be here? Percy felt another wave of guilt, but brushed it away, trying to focus on the proceedings. 

 

A nameless Ministry official had begun with a magical blessing on the family. It should have been Dumbledore. Or Mad Eye, since Dad had known him well. Someone they knew. Someone who had mattered. But they were all gone now, so a nameless official was there instead. Bill was called forth for the blessing. Mum predictably started to explode again. She had started to get up when she was stopped completely.

 

A large, calloused hand slipped into hers and a deep voice said, “I need you right now, Mum.” Charlie wasn’t even lying. Yes, it had been clear that Mum needed a distraction, but he was also in desperate need of someone to hold onto. It was taking every ounce of willpower he had to stay away from Hermione. He felt drained and headachy. It was stress, he was sure, but he felt like only time with Hermione would make it better.

 

When the blessing was complete, Bill took over the ceremony. He spoke about Dad, about what he had meant to all of them. And then the stories began. 

 

“Dad took me everywhere with him when I was little,” Bill began. “One day - I don’t think he had intended to, but I was with him, so - when he was called to a muggle house to rescue them from an enchanted cleaner machine, I had to go, too. I was about 4 or 5. Somehow these muggles had bought this machine - they call it a vacuum - from a secondhand place and it was zooming around the ceiling of their house. I still remember how frantic they were. But Dad calmed them right down - you know he could calm anyone - but he was so focused on them that I think he forgot I was there. Well, the machine is a lot like a fancy broom and I called to it like I would my kiddie broom. And it came. So Dad’s busy with the muggles and then one of them cries “Look at that!” and I’m flying around the room laughing. The Obliviators had just arrived to handle the muggles and the look they were giving me made me realize I was in serious trouble. Dad gave me the sternest talking-to I had ever had, and shrunk the vacuum to take it away. I was so upset because he was barely talking to me. But then he apparated us to the back of The Burrow’s property and winked, telling me it was a fine enchantment, wasn’t it? And he let me fly that vacuum around for an hour before he took me to Mum and it to the Ministry like he was supposed to. It was our little secret.”

 

People laughed, even Mum. Fred was grateful. As he listened to the story, he hadn’t been sure if she would react well or get angry that a secret had been kept from her. The Ministry officials in attendance were mostly chuckling or shaking their heads. Only one looked genuinely shocked. Fred met Percy’s eyes and was amused that he flicked a look to the scandalized man and then rolled his eyes. Truly, how could anyone not have known Dad was more likely to misuse muggle objects than anyone else?

 

In that vein, several of them came up and told stories. A couple of classmates talked about how he had given them fatherly advice, or offered them a place to stay when they needed it, or saved them in Battle. 

 

Juggling little Teddy, Andromeda stood where she was and talked for a few moments, telling more than one story about young Arthur at Hogwarts. Molly particularly enjoyed that part, laughing through her tears instead of wailing or sobbing as she had done before.

 

George, surprisingly, was the next member of the family to rise. Hermione and Fred both felt his nervousness and of course the pervasive grief, but he was also very determined. Making his way to the podium, George began by performing muggle magic tricks. He put on a show, like the two of them had when they were kids. After a few moments of surprise at the simplicity of the things he was doing, the gathered witches and wizards began to laugh, clap, and enjoy the show. Finally, he pulled a rabbit from an old battered top hat and proceeded to tell the story of how Dad had taken the twins to a muggle store to buy them this muggle magic set. They had to tell the storekeep that they were from America to explain why they didn’t understand the money. George told the rest of the story in an imitation of Dad’s terrible American accent and everyone laughed to tears.

 

Looking a little uncertain of her welcome there, Fleur made her way to the stage. “Arthur ‘as been a father to me when my own eez gone. ‘E accepted me when others deed not and I weel never forget what a kind and gentle man ‘e was. I am grateful to ‘im every day for raising ze man I share my life with.” There were tears glistening down Fleur’s cheeks, but somehow they looked beautiful on her. 

 

Percy walked properly up to the podium and gave a speech about how dedicated their father was to his work and to learning the ways that muggles and wizards could coexist. He talked about Arthur’s values and the things that made him both a wonderful father and an upstanding citizen. He ended by saying, “More than all of that, he was my Dad. We had a terrible falling out in the last year, when I couldn’t see the truth of things, but I know he was right and I hope wherever he is, that he knows when I came back, that it was me saying he was right. I… we didn’t get to talk. He died…” Percy stumbled back toward the chairs, away from the podium.

 

Fred was beside him before Percy could collapse, though it was a near thing. Percy flung his arms around his brother and sobbed. Before he could calm himself enough to get up, the others had joined, one giant Weasley hug around him - including Mum, Harry, Fleur, and thank Merlin, Hermione. The others shifted enough to let her next to him. It all looked perfectly innocent from the outside, but she was the one holding him when he finally stopped crying. 

 

Ron stayed up as everyone else found their way back to their seats. He told the story of Dad’s flying car, and his various adventures with it. “I like to think it took care of Harry and I because it remembered Dad somehow, and wanted to take care of us like he would have if he had been there.”

 

Next, Ginny stepped forward. “When I was a little girl, I remember Dad playing with all my big brothers and then making time to come and play with me and my dolls and my tea set. Sometimes he made Ron and the twins play, too.” She gave a sneaky grin. “Bill and Charlie would play tea party with me without being told. Dad hid with the twins and they took pictures of us.” There was laughter, and calls for when they could all see them. 

 

Ginny continued, “The year Ron went off to Hogwarts without me was a hard one. I had never been home alone before. Dad did everything he could to make it fun. He played 1 on 1 Quidditch with me, and let me help in his shed of muggle things.”

 

“Someone from the department is going to come and clear that mess away, right?” Mum called, the happiest she had sounded since before the Battle. There was laughter, and one sharp nod from one of Dad’s colleagues. The man looked more irritated than anything.

 

“I think Dad would like us to go through it first,” Bill stated, just loudly enough to be heard.

 

“You’re all messing up my sweet story,” Ginny huffed, hands on her hips. After some more laughter, she started again. “One of our favorite things was to dance. Dad had this muggle player, and we would listen to muggle music, and he would dance me on his feet like he did when I was tiny and Mum would put on Celestina Warbeck. It was silly with me so big, but I will never forget it.” She had tears streaming down her face, but looked happy about the memory.

 

Mum stood and hugged her as they changed places. It was hard for her to talk about anything, but she managed to tell the story of how they got together before she fell apart. As she was trying to recover and speak more, someone began to play “their” song, the Celestina Warbeck one she had requested. That was it for her. Molly was a sobbing mess. Bill, Percy, Kingsley, and Harry worked together to help her back to her seat.

 

Turning once the others had it in hand, Harry spoke briefly. “I never got to know what it was like to have a father. I don’t remember my own, and the time I had with my godfather was short and complicated by circumstances beyond our control. Arthur was the only father I have ever really had in my life. I was always welcome at the Burrow, just another member of the family. We didn’t spend much time just the two of us, but I always knew I could go to him with problems if I needed to. I wish… I’m so sorry that I couldn’t work harder, faster… that so many fell before the end, when they should be here with us today. I’m sorry that-”

 

“Harry James Potter!” Hermione scolded, marching up to the podium herself. “Don’t you dare act like you’re responsible for the things that madman did and encouraged. With or without you, we all would have fought. Don’t you dishonor Arthur or Remus or Tonks or any of the others by acting like they would have behaved any differently.” 

 

It seemed she only realized where she was when she turned back to those gathered and blushed. There were wry smiles on the faces of all her spouses and Fleur, too. Some of Dumbledore’s Army seemed amused as well, even as they were nodding along with what she had told Harry. She cleared her throat and stepped forward as though she had intended to be there. Harry crossed his arms and stood slightly behind her, looking both chastised and pleased that she had gotten herself into speaking, which he was well aware she hadn’t intended to do.

 

“Arthur Weasley was one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. I loved his curiosity and the spark of adventure and child-like wonder he had. I love seeing those qualities in all of his children. They make it apparent the kind of father he was. I am lucky to have met them all. The Weasley family accepted me as one of their own when I was still a child. You could say they’ve always been my wizarding family. Being muggleborn, it’s sometimes hard to learn all the things you need to know about a completely new world. Having a Mum and Dad here really helped. I will miss Arthur greatly. We all will.” 

 

Hermione was close to sobbing, so Harry took her by the arm and led her back to their seats, talking quietly along the way. He knew how to soothe her in ways the others just didn’t know yet, even Ron. She and Harry had grown so much closer during the time Ron was away that he just wasn’t able to connect as completely to them any longer. It made him sad, but Ron knew he was lucky to have the opportunity to try and redeem himself at all. 

 

Charlie stood, walking purposefully to the front and distracting people from the two friends. He talked about his love for animals and how Dad had facilitated it. How he had told him stories, shown him books about creatures, and helped Charlie many times to hide the creatures he brought home. “I found a baby Jaculi once.” There were gasps throughout those gathered. Mum looked both shocked and murderous. They were intensely dangerous little creatures, small dragons some would say, though they used their spear-like bodies rather than fire to take down their prey. “Don’t worry! He didn’t let me keep it very long,” he assured with a laugh. “But we did heal its hurt wing, and then put it back in the den it had crawled out of. I still remember the way it looked at me like it knew I could be trusted. It’s that memory that brought me to the dragons I love.”

 

There were smiles all around, except Mum who scowled at him, but Charlie resolutely ignored it. As he slid past, she said, “If I had known your father had anything to do with you chasing those beasts, I would have-”

 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to find out what Mum would have done to Dad. She had been cut off by a shriek from little Teddy Lupin. Andromeda was struggling with him, but the tiny boy was crying like his heart was broken. Everyone was surprised when Charlie passed his seat and sat down next to Andromeda instead, offering to hold him. 

 

It was only a few moments before Teddy calmed, his hair turning Weasley red and curly like Charlie’s as Charlie made silly faces at him. Hermione felt her heart constrict in a way she never would have expected at seeing what looked like a little Weasley baby nestled in his arms. She wondered idly if all of her husbands would affect her that way. And her wife, though Hermione wasn’t at all sure how that would work.

 

Taking control of the spotlight, Fred took the podium, grinning and launching straight into stories about all the pranks Dad had helped them pull, plus a few good ones he had gotten over on them and vice versa, of course. He had everyone in stitches before he sobered. “All joking aside, and I know this is odd for me, but I wanted to say how lucky I feel - how lucky I truly am to be standing here today. This could have been a funeral for both of us. It came very close. I hope Dad knows that I would have enjoyed being with him, but I’m grateful to be here with my twin, where I belong. And grateful to the woman who made it possible, our Hermione.”

 

She was shocked he had included her in what he had to say. Hermione had no idea how to respond, if she even should. This wouldn’t have been a day she picked to be the center of attention, not that she ever would choose that. People were smiling at her now, all but a few. Katie Bell was shooting daggers at her. A couple of the ministry workers, too, turned their noses up at her, though she hardly cared about them. Katie, though. She would have to ask the twins if there was something there with one of them, if she owed the girl an apology. 

 

Fred had moved on already. He knew his - their - girl didn’t like having the attention on her. And, frankly, he felt it was time to be done with this. There was undoubtedly some other pomp and circumstance planned by the Ministry, but enough was enough. The stories about Dad, the ones that really showed who he was, had been told. They didn’t need anything else.

 

“Georgie and I have prepared a little something in Dad’s honor.” He could hear his mother groan, but he just grinned and continued. “Well, maybe a couple of little somethings.”

 

Despite it being midday, fireworks began going off all around them. Fred waved his wand and the marquee became perfectly see-through. Thanks to their bright magic, the fireworks were visible even in the sunlight, if perhaps a little less of a show than they would have been at night. It seemed like the twins had the entirety of their Explosive Enterprises line present - and that they wouldn’t have much left by the end. 

 

Among the many bangs and pops and sizzles, Fred spoke again, this time his voice a little softer, “Dad wasn’t always fond of our plan to open our store, but he did love the fireworks.”

 

With another flick of his wand, music began to fill the air. “No ceremony for Dad would be complete without his favorite songs playing.” 

 

“Yo...tell me what you want, what you really really want...” 

 

As the upbeat tempo of the Spice Girls took over, some people reacted in shock, and others were practically dancing in their seats. Molly laughed in spite of herself and said, “Oh, this was one of his favorite muggle songs this year!”

 

Everyone laughed, but then Molly stood up with a look of horror on her face, “Oh no! Hermione, dear, they don’t have Arthur’s entire tape of mixups, do they?”

 

Hermione gave her an odd look and then gently said, “I don’t know , but I suspect they are using the mixtape.” Of course she did know a little more than she was letting on, but Molly would be happier for the moment if she didn’t know the full extent. There was always the possibility, too, that someone would shut down the cassette player and take it away.

 

That didn’t happen, but it could have. The Ministry officials scrambled to reclaim the ceremony, but Fred managed to avoid them through a second song - “Livin On A Prayer” - before shutting it off and pausing the fireworks display. A quick conference between the twins and Kingsley brought a compromise. 

 

The final words were spoken, the casket interred, and wands raised to show their final respects. 

 

And then the twins launched some more fireworks. There were Spectrum Splashers, Crystal Incantation Comets, Box ‘O Rockets, Diabolic Daredevils, Thor’s Thunder Crackers, and multiple Deflagration Deluxes exploding into Catherine Wheels, fiery dragons, and a few making pictures in the sky of all Dad’s favorite muggle cars and appliances. It was an impressive show and it continued on as they started up the music again with “Hey Jude.” At least some of the witches and wizards had heard The Beatles before. “Stand up now,” Fred called out. “We’ve mourned his death,” 

 

“Now we’re celebrating Dad’s life,” George finished.

 

As people rose, Fred and George flicked the chairs away to the sides. Charlie was soon helping with that as well. A table of food that had been prepared for a sedate meal after the service was moved in, but somehow it now looked more like a party spread. Ginny grinned and winked at Hermione when she seemed confused by the change. 

 

Aunt Muriel had a few loud remarks to share about inappropriate behavior and childishness. Bill moved to the front of the room and declared, “Those of you who are still feeling solemn or do not find this the best way to honor my father are welcome to leave. But Dad would have wanted us to smile. This is what our family needs and what we will do.”

 

Both Augusta Longbottom and their Aunt Muriel gave Molly their final condolences and left, along with a number of Ministry workers. 

 

One of Dad’s favorites, a song called “Agadoo,” came on and the twins each grabbed a sibling - Fred got a hold of Percy and George snatched Ron onto the floor - and began dancing. They were wild and barely even paying attention to the rhythm or anything, but people were laughing and clapping, and a number of other couples joined. Dean and Seamus were making a spectacle of themselves and Luna was doing the tango with Lee Jordan. As the song changed to “Stairway to Heaven,” Ginny was soon dancing with Bill, and Charlie led Mum to the dance floor, despite her tears and protests. When it switched over to a disco, “I’m In The Mood For Dancing,” she stopped complaining and joined enthusiastically.

 

Harry invited Professor McGonagall to dance and was pleasantly surprised when she did. It was nothing like the proper dancing they had done for the Yule Ball and he was absolutely mystified when Professor McGonagall knew all the latest - and oldest - muggle dance moves - even when “The Macarena” came on. Some of the other witches and wizards turned to the young muggleborns to teach them the moves. Hermione nearly fell down laughing as she tried to help Charlie and Bill learn it.

 

Within a very short time, Percy seemed almost as good at it as Professor McGonagall. Ron was making up his own ridiculous version and the twins were copying him. Ginny laughed at the sides, then joined in near the end in perfect sync with the muggleborns. Charlie, too, got reasonably good at it, but Fleur nearly fell over laughing at Bill, who couldn’t keep up with the beat to save his life.

 

“Immigrant Song” began to play and Hermione found herself laughing at Arthur’s eclectic mix. She wandered off for a drink, noticing that she wasn’t the only one. She brushed against Ginny on her way, nudging her and catching her eyes. The other girl smiled, if a little sadly. The music really was helping everyone feel better.

 

When the next song began, people cheered. Even wizards knew “Don’t Stop Believin’.” And loved it. The whole gathering sang along, Percy with them. His prim, proper side wanted to pretend he didn’t know or like the song, but he had too many memories of Dad humming it under his breath while he taught Percy to play chess or as they did chores together. Those were good memories and this song brought them out.

 

Fred bowed and asked Hermione for a dance when the next was a slow love song, “Now & Forever.” He could hear Mum crying as she clung to Bill across the dance floor, but Fred was determined to focus on Hermione. He didn’t know the lyrics, so he couldn’t sing this to her, but he could certainly hum along and whisper how apt it was. Hermione was blushing in his arms. When the song ended, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers and pulled her body close. 

 

He was surprised when Fleur unexpectedly grabbed Hermione from him. The two girls were soon laughing as the song changed over to “Magic Dance.” Many in attendance stopped, gaping at the lyrics. But it was so catchy most were soon singing along as they danced. Then someone shouted. “Wait - this is David Bowie!” and even the purebloods were confused. “But he’s one of us. Isn’t he breaking the Statute by singing about magic?”

 

“Not when the muggles believe it’s all part of a fantasy movie on their telly like this song was,” Dean explained. Many of them didn’t understand what he meant beyond the muggles not realizing it was real, but that was enough to know it was safe.

 

As “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” began to play, Hermione looked around and snatched Charlie away from the Ministry officials he had clearly been trying to shake off anyway. She began to dance, careful not to get too close, but enjoying that they could look into each other’s eyes as she switched between singing parts and talking about how her Dad used to sing this to her Mum. Charlie didn’t exactly understand why that made her look sad and wistful, but he was glad she had shared the story with him, shared the moments together.

 

He wanted to pull her close and dance like they were meant to be with each other, but Charlie knew they couldn’t. It was a bitter pill, but he was going to stay and lose himself in the moments he could. He honestly had no idea what Dad would think of them performing that ritual and binding Hermione to all of them, but he hoped his father would have been supportive if he had known the way Charlie felt about the girl. He released her as the song ended, but let his eyes hold on as long as they could get away with.

 

Percy found himself dancing to “I Would Do Anything For Love” with a young lady whose name he was uncertain of - she might have been Amelia Bones’ niece, but he wasn’t sure. Nearby, Kingsley danced with Hermione. It was a sight that was almost too much for Percy. He shifted uncomfortably to ensure that no one noticed the bulge he was now sporting. He would have felt guilty for neglecting his partner, but she seemed distracted as well, though he couldn’t tell who she was watching. 

 

Hermione laughed at a story Kingsley was telling her as they danced. It felt nice to talk to him again without there being an agenda. Then again, had she ever known him under circumstances where there was no agenda? It had been war before. She just hoped that the politics they were entering now wouldn’t be just another kind of war. Though, if it was, she was going to win that one as well. 

 

Her eyes met Percy’s by accident. He was dancing with Susan Bones, but his eyes were burning a hole through her. Hermione felt her breath leave her, as so often happened when his clear blue eyes met hers. Adrenaline raced through her as she watched his eyes rake up and down her body. Was she imagining it or was he looking Kingsley over as well?

 

“Thunderstruck” began and everyone separated as the dance style changed. Hermione meant to move closer to Percy, but he had disappeared somehow. It wasn’t crowded enough that it should have been possible, but he had managed. Hermione shook her head and looked around at the rest of the family.

 

Harry and Ron were by the food table, looking ready to hide from the dancers. Charlie and Hagrid were deep in discussion about something. Hagrid kept wincing when he would forget his arm was still in a sling from the battle. Fred was front and center, life of the party as always, but Hermione couldn’t see George anywhere. Bill was talking to his Mum with a wary expression. Ginny was gyrating between the Patil twins on the dance floor. Hermione thought for a moment that she felt a twinge of jealousy about that, but then she realized it was an image that intrigued her more than it angered. That was… unexpected. 

 

Being the life of the party was tiring, at least for George it was, so when some slow, twangy American song came on, “The River,” he took that opportunity to hide for a few minutes. Fred was still in the middle of everything, though he was now hugging Mum, who had started wailing again. It was the song, George was sure. It was more contemplative than celebratory. Perhaps they should have filtered the songs before letting the mix play straight through. Dad had very eclectic tastes.

 

“I’m surprised you’re taking a break,” Bill said. 

 

George jumped, not having expected anyone while he was at the back of the marquee as he was. “The spotlight is Fred’s forte, not mine. I can do well with it for a while, but I have to have a breather now and then.”

 

Bill was giving him an assessing look, but nodded. George wondered if Bill had ever considered that he and Fred might not be identical in absolutely everything. The music finally changed again and George sighed. 

 

“This one’s called ‘Another Brick In The Wall.’ It’s our favorite, so Fred will never forgive me if I’m not there to dance with him.” As he began to jog toward the center of the impromptu dance floor, George heard Bill chuckle behind him. 

 

When “We Are The Champions” came on, the entirety of Dumbledore’s Army sang the lyrics at the top of their lungs. It was one of Dean’s favorite songs, so they had all heard it before. And they were the Champions now. Finally. A few of them seemed to consider that a good place to make their exit, since it was such a positive rallying song for them all. 

 

As Hermione was pausing for a drink of water, Katie almost ran right into her. For a moment, the other girl looked embarrassed, then said, “It should have been me, you know. Since it… since it couldn’t be Angie.”

 

“I know that. I… I’m sorry,” Hermione started, but Katie didn’t let her continue.

 

“You better be good to them. They deserve it.” With that, she walked out leaving Hermione feeling a bit off balance as she watched the other girl go.

 

She was distracted by Ron grabbing her hands and dragging her back to the dance floor for a song she was certain was recent but didn’t recognize. Perhaps it had come out while they were on the run. As they cavorted around the dance floor, she guessed the song’s title must be “Gettin Jiggy With It” and she laughed, both at the ridiculous dance they were doing and the vision of Arthur dancing to this. She, and she knew his children especially, would miss seeing him in his muggle shed, dancing around while he tried to figure out the purpose of various items and how to make them work with magic.

 

It was poetic perfection when the next song that played was “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid. People sat down to listen to that one. Hermione was nearby, singing quietly along, but loudly enough to make Charlie smile. He felt tears on his cheeks again, hearing this song that so appropriately captured his Dad’s sense of wonder about these things he didn’t understand, even if he hadn’t shared the singer’s fascination with becoming part of that world. 

 

Charlie found a chair off to the side. For the moment, he wasn’t in the mood to dance. In his hands, he turned over a spark plug he had picked up from Dad’s shed. Those little bits of muggle innovation always associated strongly with his father for him. 

 

The songs were diverse as they moved through Arthur’s mixtape. There were plenty of Beatles songs, but also things by Iron Maiden, AC/DC, Reba McEntire, Michael Jackson, The Police, Metallica, The Sex Pistols, Elvis Presley, Oasis, Black Sabbath, BeeGees, Aerosmith, Blur, Bryan Adams, The Who, Billy Joel, Lynard Skynard, REO Speedwagon, Radiohead, Madonna, The Verve, The Rolling Stones, A-ha, and The Village People. The music style constantly changed, as Arthur found love in his heart for just about any muggle song he could find. And, with magic, he had been able to extend the single tape’s length as much as he needed to fit all of his favorite songs on it. There would have been no way to choose from them all, and Fred and George were happy to honor that in their father’s memory.

So the music went on for hours. Slowly but surely, those in attendance began to filter out until only the Weasley family was left. As “Never Gonna Give You Up” finished playing, the music finally came to an almost haunting stop. The cassette clicked. 

 

The Weasley siblings decided in their hearts to take the song’s message to heart. They would never give up the memory of Arthur Weasley, wouldn’t let his spirit down. They’d stop running around, and they’d make certain they would never desert each other. It’s what Dad would want.

 

While there were tears here today, they would never truly say goodbye to Arthur. While he might be gone, his spirit lived on through all of them. There was no saying goodbye when he was still there in all the little lessons he imparted to so many of their friends and the lives he touched, as well as every last Weasley.

 

Notes:

I hope that wasn't too sad or too light, but a nice balance of the two. I was trying.

Any predictions on what Skeeter's up to next? How things are about to go with Molly now that the funeral is out of the way? What are you looking forward to in the near future?

I hope to get the next chapter out much sooner even though I have since gotten involved in two MORE fests. And one of the other fests is kind of turning into a WIP, because we all know I need another of those. So we'll see how I manage to keep juggling things, but this is one of my priorities, truly.

Chapter 15

Notes:

This is the shortest chapter I've done for this story so far. It's kind of fluffy, but I just thought they all needed a little break before they get busy and more things hit them.

I thank my alpha, Lady Winterlight, as well as StarGirlPotter for their help this chapter. And my new beta, astrangefan, was most helpful also! Thank you all!

I still don't own Harry Potter, Hermione, or the Weasleys. I make no money from this.

Relief seemed like it wrapped around each person as they stumbled out of the floo. Hermione had come through first, so she was there to see the look on their faces. It had been difficult to wrap things up, even when they were all obviously more than ready to go. It wasn't even because people wouldn't leave them alone. It seemed like everyone wanted to give the family their space. But walking away, leaving Arthur behind once and for all, was a devastating moment.

 

Hermione made certain to catch and hug each person who needed it, which was honestly most of the family. She had been surprised when Charlie refused the hug, ducking away quickly with a shake of his head. Percy’s reaction was more expected. Everyone else had snuggled into the comfort she offered with no hesitation.

 

The hardest part of this moment was trying to decide what to do next. 

 

Hermione knew she wasn't feeling like doing much of anything. She couldn't imagine that any of her spouses wanted to either. As everyone stared at each other, Ginny made a decision.

 

"Come on, Mione," she said, grabbing Hermione's hand and leading her to the stairs. Before the boys could get the first words of protest out, Ginny called back over her shoulder, "We're going to go put on our pajamas, then we'll be back down. Don't know about you lot, but I just want to spend the rest of the day on the sofa." 

 

Bill nodded up at the girls and Hermione felt better about following Ginny. Until they figured out some way to tell Molly about their relationship, they couldn't afford to get into possessive fights in front of her. Hermione felt her stomach turn at the idea of telling the matriarch. It was unlikely to go well with Molly’s emotions being so very volatile. Then again, delaying was likely to make it worse, too. She needed to think of a way... but not tonight. Tonight she was tired. They all were.

 

The girls came to Ginny's room first. "I'll go on up and get mine, then meet you downstairs," Hermione said, but Ginny had yanked her into the room before she could start up the next flight of stairs.

 

"Oh no, you don't!" Ginny said indignantly. "You know I can't have what I need from you while we're down there. And I do mean for us to change, but I want a few minutes with you, just us." 

 

The younger girl pulled her into a tight hug. It seemed like she was trying to burrow into Hermione, but it wasn't working well since Ginny was taller than her. Laughing a little, Hermione pulled them to Ginny's bed and sat down so the height difference wouldn't matter. "I'm so sorry-" Hermione began, but Ginny quickly cut her off.

 

"Don't be. Don't talk about it. We've all said enough today. I just want to be held for a few minutes before I can't."

 

Hermione felt awful for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't think it will be so bad, Gin. Not for you and I. We've always been friends. And this is a perfectly reasonable time for friends to need to hug and be close." 

 

Hermione could feel tears on her neck, but Ginny gave a watery laugh. "I suppose that's a good point. I guess we should be snogging instead. That's a bit harder to explain."

 

Hermione laughed, too, then squealed as Ginny tackled her to the bed. She started to gasp out Ginny's name, but then her lips and tongue were busy and Ginny's firm body was pressing her into the mattress. There was a desperation in Ginny's touch, in the way she was kissing. Hermione didn't want to break the moment, but she knew they should. Panting, she tried to tell her friend and lover that they needed to hurry and get back downstairs, but she had to admit her heart wasn't in it. Neither was her body, clearly, as she began to peel Ginny's jumper up.

 

Just as it was hitting the floor, her bra following, the door swung open. "Why is it always us that you walk in on?" Ginny began, not even bothering to hide her annoyance, but she cut off as the person stepped inside, her long blonde hair flipping over her shoulder as her eyes roamed down Ginny's exposed torso. 

 

A few moments passed, so when no one moved or spoke, Hermione said, "Is everything okay? Fleur?" 

 

It had the desired effect, pulling the partial Veela from her stupor. "Oh! Yes, petit amour. Beel eez trying to say we must go 'ome to avoid Mum. I was 'oping you could talk 'im out of eet, 'Ermione."

 

Hermione sighed. It would be difficult. "I can try," she said, feeling doubtful he would listen to her. “I do need to change first."

 

"I see zat you do. Per'aps you would be faster at zis eef you change alone?" Fleur's lips were twitching as she attempted to refrain from laughing. "I can keep Ginny company," she offered. Ginny raised an eyebrow at Fleur, but nodded for Hermione to go on. 

 

By the time Hermione made it back to Ginny’s room, pajamas on as they should be, there were giggles coming from the two behind Ginny's closed door. Hermione felt a moment of trepidation before gently opening the door. The two were leaned in close over an old picture album. That hadn't been what Hermione was expecting, but she was happy to come sit next to them when Ginny beckoned. "These are those tea party pictures I mentioned at the fu... earlier, with Bill and Charlie playing tea party with me."

 

Hermione was giggling before her eyes had fully taken in the first one. She was looking at a Bill who was perhaps 14 or 15, Charlie of course was a couple of years younger. They were adorably sitting at a little table with their knees bunched up around them, wearing the nicest clothes either of them probably owned, with tiaras gracing their heads. Tiny Ginny was bustling around the table serving. Her little tea set was floating through the air behind her, dribbling tea all over both boys and they were doing everything they could to keep straight faces and act as posh as possible. 

 

As they looked over the set of pictures, it appeared the two eldest brothers had made it a mission to outdo one another in behaving like a true High Society Pureblood. Little Ginny couldn't have looked happier if she had tried.

 

They were still flipping through the album, seeing picture after picture of all the boys playing with and taking care of their baby sister when there was a soft knock at the door. Charlie peeked in. "They want you downstairs," he started, but seemed to change his mind at all the giggling. "What are you up to?" he asked suspiciously.

 

He saw the album before they could answer, though, and groaned, covering his face with his hands before barking a laugh and shaking his head.

 

"What? You don't want your wife to know what a sweet big brother you were?" Ginny teased.

 

Charlie stalked over, wrapping an arm around Ginny’s shoulders. Accusatorily, he asked, "What do you mean 'were'? I'm still a sweet big brother!" 

 

Ginny’s laughter at her brother’s antics was all that was needed for a smile to bloom. Charlie's lop-sided grin was back, perhaps a bit smaller than usual, but Hermione was relieved to see it. 

 

"There are plenty of us who can disagree," said a voice from the hall. It appeared more of the boys were trooping up the stairs. That had been George. 

 

Fred poked his head in before Charlie could pretend to be offended and added, "We couldn't let you girls have a slumber party up here without us!"

 

"But Mum'll have all our heads if we don't come back downstairs," Ron said on his way up the next flight. 

 

Fred bent down to kiss Hermione's head. "We're changing, too, but we'll see you downstairs," he said pointedly. The girls all laughed when they had gone, but Ginny put the album away. 

 

"Come on," she said, "we wouldn't want anyone to get their knickers in a twist about us having a little girl time."

 

"One day soon, you weel both 'ave to come to ze cottage where we can lock ze boys out and 'ave all ze girl time we want!" Fleur suggested.

 

Personally, Hermione wasn’t so sure about that. Was she saying they would lock Bill out, too? She already felt like he was irritated by her. Hermione didn’t think she wanted to make it worse. Bill hadn’t sought her out in several days - since they had been at the bank. Hermione didn’t even remember how many days ago that had been. 

 

Everything was just happening so fast, with no time to rest or reach out to everyone. Hermione felt like she wasn’t doing enough. How could she be? But, maybe Bill simply didn’t need her like she thought she might be needing him.

 

Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Fleur’s eyes looked worried. She quietly said, “Eet eez possible ‘e weel surprise you when ‘e stops being so ‘ard on ‘imself. ‘E eez going through a lot. I know everyone eez, but Beel carries ze world on ‘is shoulders eef no one makes ‘im put eet down.”

 

Hermione smiled at the imagery. It was a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. 

 

Fleur squeezed her hand as they started down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Ginny had already plopped down next to Harry where he was sitting playing chess with Ron. Taking the moment, Fleur pulled Hermione over to the sofa to sit with her. "You were telling me earlier... about your parents. Deed you wish to keep talking?"

 

"Oh Merlin," Hermione said, startled by the unexpected topic change. "I don't know if I can talk about it tonight. I... thank you, Fleur, but I think..." She could get no further. The tears had started. 

 

"Mon petit amour, I am sorry. I deed not mean to upset you again." Fleur’s voice carried such compassion, but there was no response. 

 

Hermione had tried to respond, to reassure her that it was fine, but she couldn't. The tears were pouring out of her now and there was no way to stop. She felt arms come around her from multiple sides, but she wasn't even sure whose they were, she was so unable to see through the tears in her eyes. This was utterly ridiculous. No one should be comforting her when they were the ones who had just lost their father.

 

"What's happened, little love?" Bill's voice was a whisper next to her ear. 

 

"Eet was my fault," Fleur explained, her voice sad. "We were discussing sad things earlier and I asked eef she wished to continue now zat we are een a more private place. I should 'ave thought about 'ow drained we all must be tonight."

 

"It's alright," Hermione sobbed. "I don't think I can... I don't want to talk about it right now."

 

"Per'aps you could come to Shell Cottage one day soon. We need to talk, ze three of us, and you can tell me ze rest of zis as well." 

 

Hermione blinked, wondering if Fleur had meant that the three of them would talk more about her relationship with Bill. But of course it was - what else could it have meant? Then she remembered the conversation she and Fleur had in Bill's office and felt her cheeks heating even through her tears. Did she mean to talk about things with all three of them? Hermione was grateful that her face was buried in Fleur's hair, even as Bill pulled her half onto his lap.

 

She wasn't sure how long she cried, with the two of them holding and petting her before Fred appeared. "Are you mad?" he asked quietly. "Mum's in the next room. She could come in here any moment!" 

 

Quite loudly, Fleur responded, "Yes, I'm so glad you are 'ere! Your 'Ermione 'as been desperate for comfort."

 

George, walking up behind them said, "Thank you for taking care of her, Fleur, Bill. Freddie and I got a bit distracted with some plans for the shop."

 

Hermione was relieved by how neatly that had been handled, though she was less pleased with Fred pulling her away from Bill and Fleur. He settled to one side of the sofa with her on his lap. It seemed everyone was in pajamas now, and everyone wanted to snuggle close to her. But how were they all going to fit together?

 

Percy walked in with a teacup in his hand and took a quick look around the room, eyes growing slightly brighter and more focused when he saw Hermione. "You've been propping us all up all day," he told her as he crouched down in front of the sofa. "I’ve brought you tea. May I do something more to help you?"

 

Not knowing what he was getting at made her nervous, but Hermione nodded anyway as she took the first sip of tea, surprised he had gotten it perfectly to her liking. She realized she trusted Percy. Whatever he had in mind, she was willing to find out. 

 

"Fred, I'm borrowing the wife," he said, somehow making it sound like he just meant Fred's wife while also reminding everyone that she was his wife, too. "May I have space there next to you, Bill?" Percy quickly settled himself between Fred and Bill. For one long moment, their eyes met and Hermione was certain he was about to pull her into his lap and snog her senseless. Then he took her hand and said, "Sit on the floor in front of me, Hermione."

 

Obeying a command like that wasn't usually in her nature, but Hermione had to admit that she was curious now. She was shocked when he positioned her just right and then began massaging her neck and shoulders. It took everything Hermione had not to moan and groan through every moment of it. 

 

Hermione was so focused on the relaxing feelings Percy's hands were giving her, that she didn't realize the others were surrounding her. Bill and Fleur had crowded closer to Percy so that Bill's leg was touching her side. Fred had slid down into the floor next to her while Ron took his place on the sofa, his leg touching her in a mirror action to Bill's. Charlie took the spot on her other side, in front of Bill, leaning his head back without worrying about how his older brother would take it. Ginny and George were each using one of her legs as a pillow, Harry snuggled up next to Ginny. Bill's arm was around Fleur, but he was soon slumped back into the sofa, too exhausted to think about going home. It probably didn't hurt any that Fleur had refused to move the two times he had tried to talk her into going. Hermione was thankful. Even though the physical connection between them was slight, it was a relief to have it. Fleur snuggled next to her husband, though she gave Hermione a wink.

 

Hermione felt like she was in heaven, with all seven of them finally touching her again. It seemed like forever since that last happened, though she knew it had only been a matter of days. Even when Percy finished the massage, he didn't move his hands. And Charlie was pressed against her side, leaning on Bill's legs, but with his hand woven through her arm so that they were almost holding hands but it looked accidental. With him half asleep, Hermione thought it was believable. 

 

Her only problem was what to do with the now-empty teacup Percy had brought her. It was one of Molly’s favorites, so she couldn’t vanish it. Normally Hermione would have floated it back to the kitchen, but she was so exhausted she didn’t think she could. George seemed to notice her problem and took the cup from her hand. 

 

“I’ll take it to the kitchen, love,” he told her with a quick kiss to the lips. Hands free, Hermione ran her fingers through Ginny's hair as she watched George’s arse while he left the room. She meant to thank him when he came back, but her eyes were heavy. As they all started to doze off, Fred's head came down on her shoulder and hers leaned against him.

 

*********

 

"George Fabian Weasley," Molly snapped when he walked into the kitchen.

 

He supposed he had frightened her. "Sorry, Mum," he said, yawning. "Just bringing this cup back in before it got crushed or cracked."

 

“That was very thoughtful of you, dear,” she said, though her tone was still verging on angry. Part of him wanted to leave it at that and head back to the sitting room, but Mum looked so forlorn in the kitchen alone when Dad should have been there with her.

 

“Is anything wrong?” he asked, then cringed at the absurdity of the question. “Anything new or particular, that is.”

 

"I need you to explain to me why no one thought I should know?"

 

George felt himself freeze. She knew? About the marriage? How could she possibly…

 

"That... that party you planned. Why didn't you tell me about it before it happened? I know you like your jokes, but that was a very serious event you interrupted."

 

Furrowing his brow and shaking himself fully awake, George tried to figure out how this had all fallen on him specifically. "I'm sorry, Mum." That was always a good start. "We weren't really thinking about how other people wanted the event to be, just what we thought Dad would have wanted, how he would have wanted us to act."

 

"It didn't occur to any of you that he would want you to act like the children of a Noble House since we finally are one?"

 

If he had been more awake, he probably wouldn't have said it. But he wasn't, so George told her, "How could any of us have guessed that was coming? We were just as surprised, but... I don't think Dad would have cared a whit about that."

 

"Hmph. That just shows how much you didn't know him! Arthur... when his older brothers died... you just can't imagine how devastated he was. Maybe before that he hadn't cared much about the House of Weasley, but it meant something to him when he was the only one left and felt like he needed to carry on for them."

 

"Well," George said slowly, trying to figure out how to make his point without angering Mum further, "that's not the Dad he let us see. I'm sorry we didn't honor the noble side of things. The Dad we knew wasn't concerned with that sort of thing. I wish he had been here to ask what he wanted."

 

Mum dropped into the nearest chair, sobs tearing from her. George felt bad, but he needed to deflect her anger, and he knew she wasn't angry so much as grief-stricken. He went to his knees in front of her, pulled her hands into his. 

 

Before he could say anything comforting, she spoke, not wailing as she had done earlier, just asking him, "How am I supposed to go on without him, George? I feel so... lost."

 

"Mum, we all do a bit, but we'll get through it together," George tried to convince her.

 

"I know better than that. I know none of you want to be here. I'm not... It's important that I take over the family now when your father's gone."

 

George looked her straight in the eyes. This conversation was too important to look away for even a moment. "You're still our Mum. We're not abandoning you. We all have our own lives. That's the way of things. But we'll always be happy to come home and let you take care of us." 

 

"I need to do more, George. I should have control of the family like your father did."

 

He managed to hold back the snort that statement brought on. As if she hadn't been the one controlling everything before. "Think of it as Bill just handling the boring paperwork and government stuff. You can be proud of the Noble House of Weasley and show everyone the pride we take in being Weasleys without having to deal with all of that. It's Bill's problem now. I would consider that a win if I were you."

 

She laughed through her tears. "I know... And I know he's old enough, but Bill doesn't know anything about being a Head of House. Arthur didn't teach him, and now it's too late."

 

"He'll learn, Mum," George said, wondering if she actually knew anything about being a Head of House. "And I'm sure he would appreciate your guidance if you have it to give."

 

"I do. After... my brothers died, Aunt Muriel worked with me on learning some of it. So I do know some things about it that I could teach him." 

 

George was relieved that Mum sounded like she was thinking about it. "Bill wasn't expecting any of this. I think it's as worrisome for him as it is for you, Mum. He's trying to hold everyone together, but he's hurting, too. We all are."

 

She suddenly snapped into full Mum-mode, pulling him up by the upper arms to sit next to her. "I'm sorry I haven't helped you enough, any of you. I want to. I want to always take care of you all. It's just so hard to see a way forward without your father here. And then I was hurt, too, so I wasn't here when you needed me."

 

"Mum, there was nothing you could have done for us. And it worked out. Bill did what was needed and Fred and I are here. Fred..." George choked on a sob he hadn't expected.

 

"Oh, my son," Mum cried, pulling him into a crushing hug. 

 

Before she could say anything else, the words came pouring out of George. He felt it crashing out like a flood behind a broken dam. "He almost died, Mum! I couldn't have... I never would have been whole again. I couldn't have gone on. He's a part of me. We're... I wouldn't have survived, wouldn't want to. It's why I went under, shared with him. I knew I could, I had to. I know we're... we're incredibly lucky it's all okay and we're both here and whole but... I can't stop thinking about it. Every time I look at him, part of me thinks about what it would be like for him to be gone. What would my life be like alone?"

 

"Oh, Georgie," Mum cut in, "You would never be alone!"

 

"I know you would all be here for me, would have been if... if that had happened. I don't know how to explain... Mum, I just couldn't live without him."

 

"He's here. And so are you. We all would have had a hard time going on without the two of you. To lose my twins and your father at once... George, I don't know if I could have gone on."

 

George almost laughed, the sound coming out of him somewhere between another tortured snob and a snort. "You would have, Mum. I know you would've kept going for everyone," he said through his tears.

 

She took his face in her hands as she said, "I'm happy you still have faith in me. I haven't done much to earn it these last few days. You know no matter how angry I get about things, what really matters is that you're all happy and healthy. It's what I want for you, and I'm so grateful we've all come through this terrible war alive. Except..." 

 

And she was crying again. 

 

George just pulled her in for a hug like she had given him and held her there. "I know it will take a while, Mum, but you'll get on. He's not here with us, but none of us will forget him. We won't stop loving Dad or talking about him. There will always be stories and we all know he's here with us in spirit."

 

It surprised him how much that thought seemed to help her. Drying her tears on her apron, Mum said, "You're right, George. I know you are. And I'll try to act like it. He wouldn't want me falling apart when the family needs me. Head of it or not," she said a little bitterly, "I am the Mum here and it's my job to take care of you all."

 

"We appreciate it. We do need our Mum right now, though we understand if-"

 

"Don't you dare say if I fall apart. I won't be doing that. Or yelling at you for imagined wrongs. It's time for me to be the Mum again."

 

"Okay," George agreed, standing. "Do you want to go in and sit with everyone? Be a family?"

 

"Yes, that sounds lovely, dear," she told him and rose as well.

 

Together, the two of them walked into the sitting room, arms around each other. George started to say something to the room at large when he realized no one would be listening. The sofa was covered and surrounded by everyone, all of his brothers, sister, the spouses, and Harry, whatever he counted as at this point, were sleeping on or against or around each other.

 

Mum made an odd little squeak of something. George wasn't sure whether it was happy or sad, but there were tears tracking quietly down her cheeks. "You go ahead and join them, love. I'll be along in a minute."

 

George quickly settled himself back in place, head in Hermione’s lap, his body wrapped around Charlie’s legs. He was asleep before he could think twice about it. 

 

*****

 

They hadn’t slept in a big pile like that in years. Molly wasn’t about to wake them, even to give the apology she knew they all deserved, Bill especially. He looked so peaceful leaning against Percy with Fleur wrapped in his arm and Charlie’s head against his legs. Charlie was without a shirt - she swore the boy didn’t know how to wear them. While Molly would normally be furious about the dragon flying back and forth across his chest, right now all she could see and care about was how peaceful he looked. George, her sweet Georgie boy, was already asleep, his head resting in his wife’s lap. 

 

She still couldn’t believe her twins had a wife, but she would have to be forever grateful. At least it seemed the marriage hadn’t caused problems between her boys. The funeral had shown her that Ron and Hermione were apparently trying to remain friends. That was a relief. Molly had always wanted to like Hermione. The girl didn’t lend herself to it, but Molly did her best to ignore that. Perhaps some of it was her own fault somehow, trying to mother a girl who already had her own, even if the woman was a muggle. She would need to find a way to reach across the divide since she couldn’t expect the girl to do it.

 

Hermione was utterly surrounded, practically in the middle of the pile of Weasleys. It appeared Percy had been rubbing her shoulders based on the location of his hands. Charlie and Fred were on either side of her. George and Ginny each had their heads in her lap on different sides. Ginny would have to learn to let her friend go and turn her attentions more to Harry, but at least he was snuggled up behind her. Ron and Bill were on opposite ends of the couch, so Hermione wasn’t completely in the middle. Fred was leaning on his wife’s shoulder with her head on his. 

 

It was peaceful, and it reminded her of years past, when the lot of them would snuggle together on stormy nights or the night before the older ones were off to Hogwarts. Her head turned automatically, to say something to Arthur. It took all of Molly’s concentration not to burst into noisy tears again. This moment was too perfect for just her. She needed to keep it until there was someone to share with. 

 

She lifted the old family camera - another of Arthur’s muggle projects - and took the picture. She was thankful the magic he had imbued it with didn’t emit the gigantic flash or puff of purple smoke that most wizarding cameras did. This had been some of his most successful tinkering.

 

Molly set the camera aside after a few more snaps. She would make the potion and develop them tomorrow. For now, she had a project in mind. 

 

Quietly gathering her supplies, Molly scooted her favorite chair closer, close enough that she could brush a hand down Charlie’s cheek as she knew he wouldn’t allow it if he were awake. Her feet were comfortably tucked under George’s legs to keep them warm as she began her project, basking in the love and support her children had for each other. No matter what mistakes she may have made, Molly knew she and Arthur had raised their children to be the kind of people this world needed.

Notes:

Much more action and drama will start in the next chapter. What do you think will/want to happen next? Get ready for the plot to start moving again!

 

Edit: After multiple people have mentioned it, I want to elaborate a bit about wizard photos. I see them almost like a muggle gif. They record a few seconds of what's happening when the picture is taken, but don't have the person's actual personality (so don't do things that weren't happening at the time even if they are things the person would do). If I didn't already have a plan, though, I would completely use this to reveal the group marriage because you're all brilliant with this idea!

Chapter 16

Notes:

EDIT: 8/31/21 The tea portion has been extended. If you don't want to re-read it, I am also adding a note at the end that will tell you what was added.

I am absolutely certain there were things I wanted to say about this chapter, but I can't think of any of them at the moment. I'm just overexcited about having another chapter ready so soon. And this one starts everything rolling forward again. No smut this time, sorry, but lots happening.

Thank you to my whole team - Lady WinterLight, StarGirlPotter, and Astrangefan - who are not only wonderful alphas and beta, but also put up with my 1000% lack of chill in wanting to post this the moment I have a chapter finished.

Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.

There was a crick in his neck when Harry woke, but it was worth it even if he was confused at first. He was wrapped partially around Ginny with his head in Fred’s lap and his back pressed against Ron. The others were still nearby as well. Even Molly was asleep in a chair pulled up next to them. 

Charlie was gone, but everyone else was still in place. Hermione was the only other person awake, staring at him as if asking for help. It took Harry a moment to realize that she was obviously trying to get up and couldn’t because of the way she was surrounded by redheads. 

With a grin pointed towards Hermione, Harry slowly worked to extract himself from the pile without waking Ron, Ginny, or Fred. Ron grumbled a bit, but went back to snoring. 

Getting Hermione out was harder. He successfully moved her away from Percy and Bill, but getting Ginny and George off her lap was nearly impossible. They managed to switch Ginny to Fred’s lap instead, but it woke him and they had to start the process again to get him out as well. As they were slowly shifting people around, Hermione seemed more and more frantic.

“I have to go to the loo!” Hermione whispered urgently. Harry and Fred managed not to laugh as they helped her up and ushered her quietly away. 

They headed for the kitchen. Harry couldn’t smell food, but there was definitely coffee. He found Charlie at the kitchen table with coffee, parchment, and quill. 

“Are you writing?” Fred asked. “You can’t even get an adrenaline rush from that!”

Charlie gave a soft chuckle. “I don’t know about that. This has to go to Mikal. After what I did, writing him a letter is pretty terrifying.”

“Are you going back already?” Harry asked. “Now that you’re bonded and don’t need to be here?” 

Harry knew his tone was disapproving, but that was okay. He did disapprove. Hermione needed the man here, not in Romania. Of course he knew Hermione would never separate Charlie from his dragons. No. She would just silently suffer instead. 

“No. I’m… explaining my actions as best I can and asking what we can do. I want… I need to go back, but I don’t know how to make it work. I know Bill didn’t think we would need to be around her much, especially after the bonds were sealed, but it’s not like that for me.” 

Fred clapped him on the back. “If I recall correctly, the boss said you weren’t allowed to come back without her anyway. So you just can’t go back.”

Charlie looked momentarily stunned, then took a deep breath. “We’ll work something out. I need to take this to Diagon and get it in the post.”

"You could use Errol," Fred suggested.

Charlie snorted. "I'm not really the kind of person you should casually suggest creature cruelty to." Then he was gone.

“He could use-” Harry started to suggest the other owls in the house, but Fred hushed him.

“It’s not about owls. He just wants to run off to the Leaky and drown himself in liquor at - what is it - 7 in the morning?”

“Not yet,” Harry grumbled good-naturedly. He really didn’t mind, but it did seem a little ludicrous to be up so early when no one had anywhere to be. 

“Why would he need liquor at this hour?” Hermione asked, having obviously caught the end of that conversation. She looked a little mussed and was working on straightening her clothes. Harry suspected Charlie must have caught her on his way up the stairs.

“I just pointed out that he’s not allowed to go back to the Reserve without his new wife, and obviously that won’t work, so he’ll have to quit,” Fred explained with a shrug. 

It wasn’t hard to tell that Hermione hadn’t taken that well, but just as she was about to protest, Fred skipped topics and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“Hermione, my love, my darling; I’m afraid you’re going to need a hardier bladder if you expect to be in the middle of a Weasley sleep pile in the future,” Fred scolded with a smile. “We don’t take well to being woken so early.” 

It felt like years since Harry had last seen him so cheerful. He hated seeing the smile fade as they both noticed how upset Hermione seemed. He and Fred glanced at each other, but Harry couldn’t communicate through a look alone that Hermione was undoubtedly upset by the idea that Charlie might have to sacrifice what he loved because of her.

Trying to bring back the levity of a moment before, Harry volunteered, “I was awake before she was, I think.”

Fred shook his head and deadpanned. “This is what we get for taking in non-gingers.”

“What is?” Percy asked, fixing the knot of his tie. He was sharply dressed already, despite the fact that he had still been asleep when they squirmed out of the pile earlier.

“He’s ruined it!” Fred mock-shouted with a groan. “He had to go and get ready early and act like it doesn’t destroy the Ginger Code!”

Percy rolled his eyes while Hermione and Harry laughed at Fred’s theatrics. Ron stumbled into the room with a yawn, “How’s anyone supposed to follow this ‘Ginger Sleep Code’ with you in here yelling?”

The three brothers were arguing within moments - whether it was playful or not, Harry couldn’t entirely tell - and he took the opportunity to pull Hermione aside.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

“Charlie is not giving up dragons for me, but we’ll have to talk about it later,” she said quietly. Raising her voice, she added, “Maybe while we’re at Hogwarts.”

Harry asked, “We’re going to Hogwarts?” at the same time that Percy asked “Why are you going to Hogwarts?”

To both of them, Hermione said, “Yes. It needs to be done and I actually feel well-rested this morning.” In a smaller voice, she added, “I think I can face it today, but you’ll come with me, won’t you, Harry?”

“I… yes, of course,” he told her. What else could he say? “Are you coming, Ron?”

Ron’s eyes went wide. “No!” Everyone swung to look at him. “I mean… sorry,” he stumbled over his words, “I could, if you need me, but… I don’t want to. Not yet.” He shuddered, not with the drama he would normally choose, but with real feeling. 

Harry reached out to him, placing a steadying hand on his friend’s arm. He understood. Merlin, Harry wasn’t ready to go back either. Hogwarts had been his first real home. Now… he didn’t really want to think about what they were going to see. 

“We need to take Bill,” he remembered aloud.

Percy shook his head. “He’ll have to go in to work today. The goblins considered themselves quite generous to give him yesterday off. Before the dragon incident they would have allowed him more time, but-”

Hermione’s brows knit at that information and she was chewing her lip. Without conscious thought, Harry reached forward and tugged at it to remind her not to hurt herself. It was a habit they had developed after spending far too much time alone together in that damn tent, looking out for one another when no one else would. Even as she focused and stopped what she had been doing to herself, Harry was grateful that Fred had cut Percy off to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“You people and your work,” Fred said, throwing his hands up. “Keep on like this and Georgie and I will be forced to get back to ours so we can show you how to have some proper fun at work. I’ll give you a hint: starting at 6 in the morning doesn’t get you the fun.”

“Some of us get great satisfaction from our work,” Percy said with dignity, picking up his briefcase in one hand and, with the other, sweeping Hermione close to him, her hands landing on his chest and her mouth open in surprise. He smirked and gave her what looked like a very satisfying kiss goodbye before spinning her away from him and practically jumping into the floo.

Hermione took a moment to catch her breath, then ran a hand down her face and looked to Harry. “Please, can we go now?”

“Now?” he asked. “Isn’t it a bit early? We need to contact McGonagall, don’t we?”

She shook her head. “No. We’ve been owling back and forth and we discussed today as a possibility at the… yesterday.” 

“But this early?” Harry pressed.

“She said any time. And you know she’s always one of the first Professors at breakfast.”

“Well yes, during the school term, but right now-”

“I’m going now, Harry,” Hermione said with irritation. “You can come later if you prefer.”

“You know I’m coming with you,” Harry told her. There was no way he would ever force Hermione to go back to Hogwarts alone, but he definitely appreciated it when Ron pulled him aside and said, “I’ll send someone along to check on you - Bill if he can, maybe Charlie if not.”

Before Harry was able to respond, Hermione was dragging him out the back door and away from the Burrow’s wards so they could apparate. If Hermione had really been certain of their welcome at such an hour, Harry had a feeling she would have asked McGonagall to let her use the floo. Instead, they had apparated to a nice copse of trees just outside of Hogsmeade.

“I thought-” he started.

“Do you fancy breakfast?” Hermione inquired, though Harry didn’t get the impression that she much cared what he thought.

“Well, I didn’t get the chance at the Burrow. I would certainly like some coffee,” he answered honestly.

Hermione set a brisk pace into the Three Broomsticks. Harry tried to start a conversation a couple of times on their way, but a glare from her silenced him each time. 

They were both a little shell-shocked by the Hogsmeade villagers’ reactions to their presence. Everyone they met had either insisted on shaking their hands or bowed to them. A cheer had gone up when they entered The Three Broomsticks and Madam Rosmerta had thanked them deeply for everything they had done, telling them they were welcome any time and they would never pay for anything here, to pass the message to Ron as well. 

It was embarrassing more than anything. Harry didn’t feel like they had done anything to deserve that - just what they had to do. He could tell that Hermione felt the same, but was trying to be gracious rather than snapping at everyone. Finally, Harry had to step up and say, “Thank you all for your kind words and welcome, but Hermione and I need some breakfast and quiet time to eat it.”

People dispersed quickly, as though he had somehow become a person they should follow. It made Harry feel simultaneously dirty and exhausted. He saw Hermione give him a commiserating look and that, at least, made him smile. Whatever her mood was about, she was going to come out of it.

As they waited for their order, Harry tried to wait patiently as she cast her special muffliato and then for Hermione to gather her thoughts. He was sure he was going to burst from the desire to ask when she finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Harry. I know I was a bit difficult this morning. I just… I’m ready to get this done at Hogwarts so we can move forward, but I’m so nervous, too.”

Harry nodded. “I’m nervous,” he said, wishing she hadn’t wanted to come so soon, as important as he knew the trip was. He considered asking her about Charlie but decided it was best to leave it if she wasn’t inclined to bring it up. “So what’s on your list today?” 

That got a small laugh from her as she pulled out the parchment he knew she would have. “You know me too well, Harry Potter.”

“Hey, your lists have saved my life more times than I can count. That’s hard to forget.”

Hermione gave him a smile, then got down to business. “So our primary agenda today is to gather enough goblin-made anything to convince the goblins to forgive us. Oh, I still need to talk to Fleur and Charlie about the dragon idea, too!” 

She pulled out a separate piece of parchment and scrawled that on whatever list it represented. Harry managed not to laugh at the dot of ink she had gotten on her cheek as she was flipping things around and suppressed the urge to reach up and remove it with his thumb. Where did that come from anyway?

He was happy to be interrupted from his thoughts by the arrival of their food. He hadn’t gotten much, but he attacked the coffee with enthusiasm.

“At Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall will be meeting us and Professor Flitwick will be escorting us-”

“Escorting?” Harry snorted. “We probably know the place better than they do!”

Biting her lip, she said, “Not anymore. The castle is badly damaged. Professor Flitwick will be with us to make sure we stay safe from crumbling walls and things.”

For a moment, Harry’s world spun a little. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information. It might have been better to just confront it in the moment than to have this time to prepare for it. Resolutely, he set the information aside and said, “Okay. So Flitwick is escorting us to find things.”

“ Professor Flitwick, Harry,” Hermione emphasized absently as she scanned her parchment. “After we’ve finished that, we’re to talk with Professor McGonagall and perhaps some others.”

“Just a social call?” he asked, “Or do they want something specific?”

“It’s more what we want,” she explained. 

Harry listened carefully and asked questions where it was appropriate. By the time they finished and started toward Hogwarts, breakfast there would be nearly over, the perfect timing as far as Hermione was concerned.

They braced themselves as the castle came into view, but Harry and Hermione both still gasped at the sight. More than one tower was down, the walls were breached in many places, there were huge holes in the walls that were there. Rubble littered the ground everywhere. At least the bodies were gone. That was the one thing they could be grateful for.

Without discussing it, they each reached out and walked hand in hand to the place they had learned all of their magic. He didn’t call attention to her tears and she returned the favor. The walk felt like it took forever, though Harry knew it was only a few minutes. As they got closer, they had to walk around or climb over bits and pieces of the castle. It was more disheartening than Harry could have imagined.

They finally entered the Great Hall from a doorway Hermione had been told about. It had never been there previously, but the Great Hall was on an outer wall now. Professor McGonagall had said that it seemed the most logical place to tell volunteers to come as people offered to help rebuild. 

Inside, the two of them were met with gasps from the teachers and a small table of people who must have been volunteers for the day. 

“What is it?” Harry asked, when no one spoke.

His question was met with silence, but finally Professor McGonagall scooted her chair back and walked toward them, Daily Prophet in hand. “I didn’t think we would be seeing you today after all, not with this going on.”

Even though she was waving it a bit madly, Harry could see the pictures splayed across the front page - one of them all dancing wildly, one of Hermione and the twins wrapped around one another. Further down, there was a picture where Molly was angrily chastising Bill. And then a picture of himself and Ginny near the bottom. 

He could almost see steam coming out of Hermione’s ears at the headline, “The Ignoble Noble House of Weasley Makes a Mockery.”

*************

Bill was shaking with anger as he read the article. Everyone was some form of furious or, in Mum’s case, just devastated. It was made worse by the fact that they had all finally slept well and peacefully again, together as they were. They could have had a more pleasant, well-rested day than any had managed since the Battle at least. Until this.

The Ignoble Noble House of Weasley Makes a Mockery

Moments after being named a Noble House, the remaining members of the House of Weasley showed the world just how little they deserve the title, no matter what kind of war heroes they may be. Kingsley Shacklebolt, our Minister of Magic, was reluctant to speak with me on this subject. I asked him how he can believe the Weasleys are mature enough to handle this honor when, moments after laying their father to rest, they were literally dancing on his grave? Minister Shacklebolt had no comment, but you, my dear readers, can see their behavior in these disgraceful photos. 

Arthur Weasley did indeed die a hero. The entire Weasley family stood up to You-Know-Who in a show of courage and daring that one could only expect from an entire family of Gryffindors. This reporter can’t help but agree that they deserve to be honored. Still, there must be some way to do this without making a mockery of our entire society.

This family cannot even manage to pass the title of Head of House properly. It could be clearly seen in the interactions between the two eldest members of the House at Arthur’s funeral yesterday. This reporter is guilty of leaving out a portion of my previous interview with Mrs. Molly Weasley. It is painful to show a grieving widow in this light, but she was adamant at the time that her eldest son, William, now Head of the family, was not capable of acting in this role. After his questionable judgement on how to keep his twin brothers, Fred and George, alive, it seems even his own mother does not find the man trustworthy. She also revealed that he is not only the Head of House Weasley, but also the house of her birth, House Prewett. Even William admits he is unprepared for this role, blaming his father’s lack of teaching on the subject, but as the eldest male in two patriarchal families, the Head of House position falls to him nonetheless. This reporter wonders if the abhorrent behavior of the Weasleys naturally flows from this lack of leadership in their House now that Arthur is gone.

These are not the only scandals this supposedly ‘Noble’ House is hiding. The newest Mrs. Weasley, formerly Hermione Granger, not only danced, but she also led Arthur Weasley’s twins astray, causing them to spend the evening in her embrace instead of properly mourning their father. Fred and George told this reporter that their new wife is wicked - a statement about their honeymoon period or is this something more nefarious? Perhaps she used the Dark Arts to trap two of the most handsome gentlemen on Diagon Alley. It is certainly clear that she didn’t win them through good looks or womanly charms. Their mother believes it may also have been a case of Miss Granger trading up from her youngest son, Ronald, as she instead moved to pocket not only one, but two wizards of higher social stature, setting her eyes on the Weasley Twins as Fred and George are the proprietors of the now infamous Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. This reporter finds such a possibility abominable, but previous articles concerning Miss Granger prove it might be an unfortunate possibility.

Nor, of course, is Miss Granger the only questionable marriage material in the family. The only other Weasley wife belongs to William himself. He chose the former Triwizard Tournament competitor, Fleur Delacour, as his wife. Aside from the age difference that brings into question his ability to properly woo witches his own age, it is interesting that Mr. Weasley, a werewolf half-breed himself, chose another half-breed, this time part Veela, as his mate. While she asserts she has tried her best to accept Fleur into the family, it is still easy to see the quiet animosity between the two women, especially considering what kind of abomination could be born of two different half breeds. Should we as a wizarding society expect to see Were-Veelas running around the halls of Hogwarts or Beauxbatons? This reporter certainly hopes we will never see the day.

At least there is one family member who appears to understand the weight of her House standing. Miss Ginerva Weasley, while often found in Mr. Harry Potter’s arms, was decorous in her time spent with the Boy who Lived. While she danced wildly under the influence of her brothers, her time spent with the man, who this reporter must admit she hopes will one day take Miss Weasley from her unfortunate House, was observed as a mournful observance of her father’s passing rather than wild gyrating as one might expect from a teenager as she is. Her behavior shows that there is at least one noble Weasley remaining, and that her brothers had the ability to embrace their nobility and still refrained. This cannot be chalked up to poor breeding. No, the House of Weasley had the ability to behave and embrace their status while honoring their father and simply chose not to.

While the House of Weasley might have potential to join Society considering their noble deeds in the war, it is clear they have much to learn before they will be up to the standards of proper behavior expected within the circles that might now be open to them. This reporter doesn’t hold much hope for them, but if they are brave enough to face down You-Know-Who, perhaps they can muster the courage to face their own ignoble ways and purge them as well.

 

Mum was wailing, “I didn’t tell her that! I would never say such things.”

“Not to a reporter, but you’ve certainly said them,” Fred said angrily. 

Bill felt like he should tell his brother to hush, but he didn’t want to. Perhaps it was his “ignoble” nature, but Mum deserved the censure. He was seething with the desire to tell her off himself.

He didn’t have the chance or the need, however, as there was a sudden call from the sitting room.

“Molly Lucretia Prewett!” Aunt Muriel screamed. It seemed that in her anger, she had forgotten the ‘Weasley’ part entirely. Everyone moved out of her way as the elderly woman stormed into the kitchen, knowing it was Molly’s primary domain. 

Though his siblings mostly cleared out - undoubtedly hiding just out of sight so they could hear what happened - Bill felt obligated to stay. He knew there would be yelling aimed at himself as well, sooner or later.

For now, Aunt Muriel lit into Mum. “I was disgusted enough with the family’s behavior when I assumed it to be private, but to allow that woman to take pictures? To talk to her? How dare you, Molly? Do you know what you’ve done to this family?”

“Aunt Muriel, I-”

“Don’t you try to make excuses either, young lady!” Muriel scolded angrily, “You know better! I trained you myself, when little Billy was still a child.”

“I rememb-”

“So I know you understand how lines of succession work. You will stop this behavior immediately,” Aunt Muriel’s voice was barely more than a whisper as she continued, but that somehow seemed to make it louder. “No more talking to reporters.”

“I didn-”

“No fighting with your Head of House.”

“He doesn’t kn-”

Muriel’s voice raised slightly, “If he’s unprepared, then it’s our job to teach him, not make his life harder!”

“I’m not trying to-”

“You will stop disparaging the wives of your sons.”

“Aunt Muriel, you don’t know what these girls-” 

“There will be absolutely no carrying on in front of others! No words of dissension. No grimaces and angry looks. Not in public, not just in front of friends, not even in a group of your children. If you have a problem, you discuss it with the person involved or with William and no one else.”

“You can’t-”

“Listen here, child,” Aunt Muriel interrupted, shaking her finger in Molly’s face, “Your mother raised you to be better than this. I am aware that the House of Prewett ceased to exist for you when we lost your brothers, but you are the child of a great and Noble House, now the mother of one that is overflowing with life, and you will act like it.”

Bill felt as stunned as his mother looked. Aunt Muriel always had plenty to criticize, but it was usually inane, irritating little jabs. He had never heard her go after anyone the way she had just chastised Mum. And he had certainly never seen his Mum allow someone to speak to her that way. But then, Aunt Muriel was the only one left from that generation, the only one who could get away with speaking to Mum like she was a child.

He was so focused on watching his mother’s response that Bill was unprepared when Aunt Muriel turned to him. “William. You have been doing an admirable job in many ways, though you will need to gain control of your wayward siblings.”

“Zat eez a tall order, Madam,” Fleur said, moving into the room and floating to grip his arm in support.

Aunt Muriel looked Fleur over, but it was approval that settled on her features. The old witch sighed, “That is certainly true, but they will have to learn to behave in at least some situations.”

That was a surprising concession. Apparently Mum thought so, too. She harumphed and glared his way. Bill started to speak, but found he didn’t need to.

“Molly!” Aunt Muriel snapped. “You are a grown woman. Act like it!”

Her face and ears turned red, but Molly seemed to bite her tongue for a moment before demurely saying, “Yes, Aunt Muriel.”

“And?”

“You’re right. Before this horrible article, I had already made up my mind to help Bill navigate all of this. The things that woman said-”

“Are rubbish and we all know it,” Bill finally managed to cut in. 

“Ze only part she got right was Arthur being a hero,” Fleur said passionately. “Even ze things she said came from Molly deed not come from eenterviews.”

“That’s a relief. I thought you’d lost your senses entirely, Molly,” Aunt Muriel said. “Feeling that way is bad enough without telling it to a reporter. I had hoped you were smarter than that. But you’ve been too public about your feelings if she’s been able to report them as an interview.”

“Actually, we know some things about that reporter,” Bill began.

“Do you?” Aunt Muriel asked, perking up happily. She did love gossip. “Let’s hear it, and then we can begin your lessons, young man.”

 

***************

This part of the castle was somewhat more whole than others. The seventh floor was high enough to have avoided the giants punching through walls and many of the projectiles that had affected lower floors. There was a crumbled tower at one end, but the part of the hallway that should let them into the Room of Requirement was clear. Hermione hoped that was a good sign somehow.

She reached for Harry as they got closer. The tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy across from the Room was dusty - dustier than usual - and ripped. One of the trolls he was trying to teach was now hanging down, nearly sliding off the tapestry entirely. 

“Do we ask for the Room of Hidden Things?” Harry asked aloud, worrying lining his brow.

“I’m not sure,” Hermione responded. She was worried as well. They both looked to Professor Flitwick. 

“That was the room they set Fiendfyre loose in?” the tiny Professor squeaked.

“Yes,” they both agreed. 

He rubbed his hands together and drew his wand. “Let’s start with that.”

Nervously, Hermione began pacing back and forth, thinking of the room they needed. Just as it always had, the door appeared. So, too, did a smoky burnt scent. The door itself was blackened in places. She felt her throat constrict with remembered fear and the trepidation of opening that door. 

She couldn’t honestly say she was upset when Professor Flitwick pushed in front of them and whispered a spell that would fling the door open. Smoke billowed out of the room as the door opened. The acrid scent of the fire overwhelmed Hermione’s senses for a moment. She heard a tiny whimper from Harry as well. There was a blast of heat, but she could see no flames. 

Peeking inside, the three of them realized that the majority of the room was empty. There were lumps here and there, but it was impossible to tell what they were without getting nearer. 

“I’m afraid it would be too hot inside the room to get to those spots,” Professor Flitwick told them sadly. 

“That’s okay,” Hermione said. “Can we try a different method?”

“Of course, my dear,” Flitwick answered. 

Letting the burning room close, Hermione then had the other two back away while she paced back and forth in front of the stretch of wall where she hoped a different door would open. We need a place with goblin-made items Hogwarts doesn’t need. She repeated the thought over and over. 

A relieved breath escaped her when an ornate golden door appeared in the wall. She had never seen that one before. Looking at one another, they all started forward, but Professor Flitwick insisted they get behind him once again. The door came open and they all gasped.

Inside the room, there were rows upon rows of display cases. Even from here, Hermione could tell there was a wide range of items - weapons, jewelry, suits of armour, household items like candlesticks and goblets, a little bit of everything. Stepping closer to the room, she noticed that it had the same acrid smell as the room they had just closed, but none of the heat. 

“Let me test the temperature of the room first,” Professor Flitwick insisted. Grudgingly, she and Harry agreed. “I have no idea how this room can exist considering the damage done to the other. It’s remarkable.”

They were very relieved and excited when he motioned them inside. Hermione found herself practically running from case to case inspecting things. Professor McGonagall hadn’t put any limits on how many items they could take. Honestly, it didn’t seem like she had expected them to find anything. Professor Flitwick, too, seemed quite shocked.

“This is most remarkable,” he kept saying.

Choosing what to tempt the goblins with was going to be nigh impossible on their own. “Do you think we should contact Bill or Fleur?” Harry asked her.

“I… we need them, but I imagine with that rubbish article, they won’t be available,” Hermione said. She had to suppress her fury again at the thought of the trash printed in that rag. Skeeter had gone too far and she was going to have to be dealt with, but there were so many other things they needed to get done. 

She could see Harry’s blood boiling from across the room. Just thinking about the way the bug had attacked his family was obviously too much for him. Getting him to stay and complete their mission rather than head back to The Burrow immediately had been difficult. Why did they all have to spend their lives under constant attack? Merlin, she was tired of it. And the public didn’t know the half of it yet. 

“Let’s try them anyway,” Harry suggested to her surprise. At her confused look, he spoke from experience. “A distraction helps sometimes. They can tell us no if it’s not a good time.”

Mere minutes passed before a large, fierce wolf appeared before them. Hermione was surprised when the voice that came from it was light and tinkling, though still quite serious in the moment. “Beel eez busy but I weel be along as soon as I can contact ze Professor.”

With a message from Flitwick to McGonagall, that process was rushed along and they were soon welcoming Fleur in. 

“I ‘ave never seen anyzing like zis!” she cried in awe. “Why deed not ‘Ogwarts display zeese things when we were ‘ere?”

“Some of them were,” Hermione pointed out, showing her the suits of armour that were goblin made and a trophy from the Trophy Room.

“Interesting that Hogwarts doesn’t think a trophy is important,” Harry remarked.

Hermione’s eyes went wide as she stepped closer to look at it. Anger coarsed through her when she read it, surprised, now that she had, that she hadn’t recognized it instantly. “I agree,” she said, voice shaking.

“Tom Riddle?” Fleur asked. “Ze Tom Riddle ‘oo became Voldemort?”

Professor Flitwick shuddered as he confirmed it. “I suggest you take that back to the goblins to be melted down, whether it becomes part of your deal or not.”

“Agreed,” they all confirmed.

“I suspect,” Professor Flitwick said to Fleur, “that some of these other items were out and about while you were all here for the Triwizard Tournament as well, but they mostly would have been in forgotten places or so dusty and dirty that no one would have realized what they were.”

“The Room didn’t just provide what we needed. It went above and beyond to display the items to choose from.” 

Apparently, the Room of Requirement appreciated the compliment. There was a noise behind them. When they turned, a comfy sofa and two wingback chairs had appeared while no one was looking. Harry actually laughed and called out, “Thank you.”

Sinking onto the sofa, Hermione was grateful to be able to look things over at leisure. Sometimes they would Accio items they could see; sometimes Harry would find something and bring it back. When he found several steaming piles of half-melted silver, it was clear they had come from the Room of Hidden Things. Professor Flitwick conjured a large box made from some material Hermione was sure she had never seen before. 

“This will hold the melted silver without harming anyone,” he explained, handing it off to Harry, who gently stuffed it inside Hermione’s little beaded bag. Professor Flitwick’s eyebrow raised, then he beamed at Hermione. “I see those books I suggested were put to good use.”

“They saved our lives while we were on the run,” Hermione told him honestly. The little Professor preened to have been so instrumental to the war effort. It made Hermione happy that she had gone to him for help back then, despite her trepidation that he might have refused to give her the information she sought.

Fleur continued to select items, mostly jewelry and small weapons, until they had a pile she deemed would be enough. Hermione felt a bit guilty at the idea of taking so much, but this was important for the betterment of wizarding society. She knew that was true even if others might see it differently, especially at first. And thinking of that, she cast Tempus , gasping out how late it already was. 

“We’ve missed lunch!”

Professor Flitwick chuckled. “I sent Minerva a message some time ago. She has a tea prepared for all of us. If you don’t mind, I had hoped to join you as well.”

“Of course,” Hermione replied. Honestly, she was happy to have as many of the staff as possible hear what she had to say. Harry was nodding as well. She knew he saw the value in it as well. Fleur looked curious, but more than willing to come along.

As they walked, Hermione let Harry walk ahead with Professor Flitwick. Fleur wove her arm through Hermione’s so that they could walk closely together.

“‘Ave you seen?” she asked.

“The article?” At Fleur’s confirmation, she nodded. “Yes. We almost came home, but I thought we would be of more use getting this done while we were already here. I’m sorry we took you away if you were needed.”

“Non. Aunt Muriel arrived almost before we ‘ad time to read it ourselves. She told Molly ‘ow she would need to behave in ze future and zen ze two of zem were giving Beel lessons on ‘ow to be ‘Ead of ‘Ouse. Eet was interesting to ‘ear it from zere perspective, but I ‘ad enough. When your Patronus arrived, eet was a relief to say I would go. I believe Beel was jealous.” Fleur smiled at the thought. 

“Aunt Muriel told Molly she had to listen to Bill?” Hermione asked, being sure she had heard that right.

“She deed! And zat Molly must acknowledge ‘im and ‘elp ‘im when ‘e needs eet. You could see a weight lift off of ‘im. All zis az been so ‘ard for ‘im.”

“What have the others been doing?” Hermione asked, feeling the ache of not being near any of them. 

“Mostly ‘iding from Aunt Muriel,” Fleur giggled. Her expression sobered when she went on. “Charlie was een town when ze article came out. Ze twins think ‘e eez drinking somewhere. We ‘aven’t ‘eard from Percy since ‘e left for work zis morning. ‘E must be very busy, ze Minister, too. I ‘ad thought ‘e might stop by again.”

“That is surprising,” Hermione agreed. “Part of why we left so early this morning was to avoid him. I assumed he would be wanting to corner us already.”

“Maybe he won’t be interested in us now,” Harry joined the conversation, “since we’re associated with the House of the Ignoble and all.”

“I doubt zat,” Fleur replied. “Even with two of you being Weasleys now, you are still zere Golden Trio. Ze Minister needs your backing.”

As they arrived at the Headmistress’s office, the gargoyle bowed its head to them and the door opened, the staircase spiraling up with them into her office. There was laughter from several voices as Professor McGonagall called, “Come in!”

Hermione wasn’t surprised by how sparse the decorating was. Professor McGonagall had a particular style, but it was clear she hadn’t had time to properly move her things in yet. There were stacks of books here and there that certainly shouldn’t have been sitting there, but Hermione knew as a fellow book lover that some things needed to be sorted and shelved by hand instead of using magic. She assumed that had a lot to do with the state of the room. Well, that and how much more important so many other things were at the moment.

The surprising part of the room was that a rather large table took up a large portion of it, set with an abundant luncheon and tea. Around it sat Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Madam Pomfrey, and Augusta Longbottom, all passing around a paper and giggling at photo. Professor Flitwick headed for a chair obviously meant for him. There were seats clearly prepared for Harry, Fleur, and herself, spread out between the others. 

As he got closer, Professor Flitwick said, “Laughing over the ignoble dancing, I see. Minerva, you are lucky they didn’t snap a picture of you getting down muggle style.”

“Knowing that gossip monger, she’s saving those pictures for a day she can try to run you out of Hogwarts” Madam Longbottom commented with disgust.

Professor McGonagall blushed and straightened her posture even more, sipping tea as each of them slipped into a chair. “You weren’t even there, Augusta. And I wasn’t-”

“You knew the Macarena,” Harry interrupted, his awe still strong in his voice. “I knew of it, but would have had no idea how to dance it without your guidance.”

Fleur and Hermione exchanged a glance that almost dissolved into giggles from their spots across the table. Hermione had found herself between Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, while Fleur was beside Professor Sprout at the far end of the table. 

“Well, I was happy to help, Mr. Potter,” she said with a small smile. Her cheeks were tinted slightly pink, but it seemed to be from happiness rather than embarrassment. How… unexpected.

“I do not understand ‘ow you came to know zees muggle dances,” Fleur said, though it was inflected more like a question.

Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together in a thin line, probably preparing to tell them to mind their own business when Madam Pomfrey started laughing. “They clearly don’t know about your goddaughter.”

“You have a goddaughter?” Harry prompted, curiosity radiating from him. Hermione couldn’t say she was any better, but she was happy that he asked first since the look Professor McGonagall was leveling at him was one of her sternest. 

Unfortunately for her, Harry wasn’t bothered. He smirked a little as he said, “I faced the Dark Lord. Your glare may be more intimidating than his, but I can still handle it.”

Professor McGonagall let out an agitated harumph, but the rest of the table laughed boisterously, even Madam Longbottom.

“She does have a goddaughter,” Professor Sprout informed them conspiratorially. “The girl is 22 now and loves to go out dancing. Your dear, strict Professor here started learning dance moves so she could go with her sometimes. Bonding activity.”

There were snickers around the table. But Professor McGonagall actually grinned. “Aye. And a fun one, at that,” letting her Scottish brogue seep through. “More fun than any of you lot!”

Exclamations met that announcement and threats to prove how fun they were. Some of them had Harry laughing to tears. Hermione couldn’t help but smile - both to see Harry so unburdened for once and at the antics of the crowd around the table, all of whom she had thought very strict and proper.

Hermione was honestly rather surprised by the people who were present. Professor McGonagall had never seemed all that social with her colleagues or really anyone at all, but perhaps as students, they just hadn’t been privy to that part of her life. 

As they all settled down a little, Professor McGonagall must have decided to take the ignoring approach. Turning directly to Hermione, she said, “Thank you for joining us today.” 

“We’re happy to be here,” Harry politely told her from his spot between Madam Longbottom and Professor Flitwick.

“Oui. I know you might not ‘ave expected me, but I am pleased to be ‘ere as well,” Fleur added. Professor Sprout beside her, grabbed her hand in a show of how pleased she was that the woman was there. Hermione hadn’t realized they knew each other at all, but they were clearly rather close friends if the way there heads had immediately bent together was anything to go by.

“It’s me who should thank you for letting us join you, Professor McGonagall,” Hermione told her when it was her turn. “I have quite a lot to discuss with you.”

Professor McGonagall looked over her glasses at Hermione, but then let her face break into a genuine smile. “I imagine you do. But first you have to do one thing for me.”

“Of course. Whatever you-”

“You won a war I couldn’t protect any of you from. My name is Minerva and I expect you to use it.”

“But Professor! What if we come back this year to finish our schooling?” Hermione asked, slightly horrified.

“I believe that should have been ‘But Minerva’,” Madam Pomfrey teased. 

Professor Sprout snorted. “You could have taken your NEWTs years ago, child. Another year of school is hardly necessary after everything you’ve had to learn just to survive.”

“But… I want-”

“Actually, Hermione,” Harry cut in, “Maybe you should think about that. There are lots of reasons you might want to be out in the regular world.”

“Like those two redheads waiting for you!” Professor Sprout said with an exaggerated wink. 

Hermione groaned before she could catch herself, though at the mention of redheads, she realized what Harry was saying. Merlin, she hadn’t even thought about the complications of some of them being in Hogwarts and most not. How would she see them if she went back? And how would Ginny do on her own if Hermione didn’t go back with her? 

Seeing her panic, Harry said, “We’ll talk through it later, Mione. I can help you make a pros and cons list.” He was grinning cheekily at the end.

“That’s a proper way to go about things,” Mrs. Longbottom said approvingly. “My Neville will be returning, I suspect, though Pomona here will be taking him mostly under her wing.”

“Of course I will!” she enthused. “He’s a model student in Herbology and will be an even better Professor in a couple of years. The subject clearly speaks to him as it did to Alice. I think he already knows more about some plants than I do.”

“Well,” Hermione spoke slowly, still mulling over the schooling dilemma, “I may not know what to do with myself immediately, but Prof… Minerva, I do have some things I would like to discuss with you for the wizarding world at large.”

“Do you?” Minerva asked, lips twitching. She had clearly expected something of the sort.

“I think there need to be some immediate curriculum changes here at Hogwarts.”

The older woman’s eyebrows shot up. That was apparently not what she had been expecting. “There are certainly things that can be improved, but I’m afraid we’re going to be struggling to open at all. Coming up with new curriculum requires a lot of time and effort.”

“I know. I know it does. But this is important… essential! There must be a class that teaches wizarding culture to anyone muggle-raised. And Muggle Studies must be overhauled and required for anyone who grew up in wizarding society. Those are the immediate concerns, though I believe we also need to-”

Everyone was nodding in understanding, but Minerva was also looking perplexed. “I certainly agree with the need, but it’s just not possible in the time we have.”

“We just fought a war over blood purity, but much of it stems from a lack of understanding. The purebloods are raised to believe that muggles are basically animals. The current Muggle Studies classes don’t help overcome that very much, even if those raised in wizarding society are interested enough to take the class. Meanwhile, those raised by muggles miss out on entire branches of magic because they weren’t raised with it. They also do things that offend the purebloods and reinforce the idea that muggles are savages because we don’t know what wizarding society - especially the purebloods - consider appropriate. These classes don’t just need to happen. They have to,” Hermione passionately explained.

“I do understand those points, Miss Gr… Mrs. Weasley, but we will barely be able to put the castle back together before school starts, much less anything else,” Minerva said.

“Not to mention all the teachers we have to replace,” Madam Pomfrey added.

“Which ones have to be replaced?” Harry asked curiously.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts, no doubt,” Madam Longbottom said snidely.

“Of course,” Minerva agreed, sounding exhausted. “Always that one, but also Potions, Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, and Ancient Runes as Professor Babbling says that her nerves can’t withstand another year no matter how much smoother it would be. We may have to drop the electives enti-”

“What happened to Hagrid?” Harry asked worriedly.

Minerva looked like she might say something to the effect of minding his business when Professor Flitwick began laughing, almost a giggle. “He’s moving to France. For the large expanse of things to explore.” Hermione was momentarily afraid he was going to tumble off of his chair from laughter. 

Everyone joined him appreciatively, though she and Harry blushed through their laughter as well, until Fleur said, “But ‘oo weel take the position when you ‘ave so many open?”

“We don’t know,” Minerva admitted, frowning. “We have very few prospects for any of the positions. And the prospects we have are mostly uninterested. None of the retired professors wish to return. Most of the wizarding public either needs to recuperate or want to pretend Hogwarts doesn’t exist for the foreseeable future.”

“What if… what if we help you find people?” Hermione offered. Her mind was spinning with who could possibly teach which classes.

“That’s a generous offer, Mrs-”

“Hermione! Please,” she interrupted.

Minerva peered at her over her glasses then gave a small nod. “It’s a generous offer, Hermione, but I hardly think you’ll be able to talk people into things we, the staff, aren’t capable of.”

“Chosen One, remember?” Harry said, somewhere between playful and very serious. “Dumbledore used me to talk Professor Slughorn around. And I had only defeated Voldemort 3 or 4 times back then. I could probably manage now that he’s gone for good.”

Had he been sitting closer, Hermione would have hit him. He knew it, too, based on the grin he shot her in response to her glare. The adults all snorted their laughter at the exchange.

Minerva looked thoughtful, even moreso at a nod from Madam Pomfrey. “That’s… worth considering,” she said. “We are certainly open to any ideas of who might fill the positions.”

“Charlie,” Fleur said, surprise in her voice as the idea had obviously just come to her.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Charlie,” Fleur said again. “Eef ‘e doesn’t go back to ze dragons, ‘e would be a wonderful professor for magical creatures.”

Minerva’s eyes lit up while Madam Pomfrey looked panicked. “Do you have reason to believe he won’t go back?” Minerva asked excitedly. “He would be wonderful for the Quidditch teams, too!”

“No cheating now, Minerva,” Professor Sprout scolded good-naturedly as Madam Pomfrey looked even more concerned.

Hermione looked at Fleur. Did she know something Hermione didn’t? Charlie couldn’t leave his dragons. Not for her. There would just have to be some other way. “I don’t think he’s mentioned his plans,” Hermione started.

“But ‘e certainly ‘as mentioned wanting to stay closer to ze family. Something like zis might give ‘im ze best of both worlds: access to ‘is creatures and ‘elping others love zem while staying with ze rest of us,” Fleur carefully pressed, and Hermione had to admit to herself that Fleur had a point. It would be a fantastic idea, but it felt wrong to ask that of Charlie. Asking him to abandon his dragons was wrong.

Everyone was nodding. Charlie was clearly well known and loved. And he would be amazing at the job - far better than Hagrid had ever been, though Hermione knew better than to say so out loud in front of Harry. But would the job be amazing for him ? Yet another thing to discuss. 

“Bill would be amazing at Ancient Runes. Or Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Hermione said, wanting to get it off of Charlie. At least Bill was already in the country.

Fleur pursed her lips for a moment. “Even eef ‘e were ready for a change, which ‘e might be, at least for now, we… ze goblins weel not let us go.”

“We could buy out his contract,” Minerva said, eyes sharp as she watched Fleur. 

“Eet ees not so simple now,” Fleur responded. “We… after ze break-in and ze dragon was freed, zay felt eet was our family honor to take ze… penalty for what zey lost. We… I was not sure zey would let ‘im go. Eet was terrifying. Zey said we could choose the life taken to be een service, both of us, or one of us could die now.”

There were tears pouring down her pretty cheeks and Hermione wanted to pull Fleur into her arms and hold her. She wasn’t sure when she had come to care so much about the silver-haired woman, but she certainly did. She had been furious about the cruelty to the dragon, but knowing now what had only been alluded to before, Hermione was determined that Bill and Fleur would not continue to pay for the decisions she and the boys had to make for the good of everyone, including the goblins.

Harry, Madam Longbottom, and the Professors had all gasped in horror at Fleur’s story. “Perhaps I can look into some things,” Minerva said. 

The look she was exchanging with the other older adults suggested there was a plan of some sort forming. It didn’t alleviate the ache in Hermione’s heart, but it helped. 

“Minerva, wasn’t there someone you had considered asking to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts position?” Professor Flitwick prompted a slight change of subject. His eyes flickering around the table and landing… on Harry.

Looking a bit unhappy, Minerva gave a severe nod, took a deep breath, and focused on Harry. “Mr. Potter, it is my understanding that not only did you learn enough defense to survive the war, but you were also quite adept at teaching your classmates to stand up for the side of light and each other as well. We wouldn’t normally consider offering a position like this to one so young, but in desperation - and knowing you truly would be best at it - I ask you if you would like to join the staff here as the Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Harry sat stunned. After a few blinks, he turned surprised eyes to Hermione, clearly asking for her opinion. “Perhaps we should take the time to make a pros and cons list?” she suggested to him. 

A relieved smile crossed his face and he nodded. Stumbling over his words, he said, “Thank you, Professor McGonagall. It’s a great honor to even be asked. I don’t… I have no idea what I want to do right now, but… with Hermione’s help, I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you for that much, at least. It will be a very difficult position to fill at the moment but it’s still a top priority with some of the Death Eaters still on the loose.” As if a thought had just occurred to her, she turned to Madam Longbottom, “If Harry is uninterested, do you think Neville might-”

“I could ask him, Minerva, but I doubt it. The boy will gladly fight if need be, and teach others for their safety, but it is not a passion for him like the plants,” she said apologetically. Hermione got the impression that Madam Longbottom wished he did have more interest in fighting, though why she would feel that way after what had happened to his parents, Hermione couldn’t imagine.

“Well, for this year, passion isn’t as necessary as safety, but I do hope he’s able to pursue Herbology as he hopes,” Minerva said, cutting her eyes to Harry for a moment. Were all headmasters and mistresses required to be manipulative? Hermione wondered. 

“He better be left to it,” Professor Sprout muttered loudly enough to be heard by all and laughter returned to the table. 

For a while everything was pleasant talk, a bit of gossip, a bit of which shops were reopening and how people were celebrating. Hermione hadn’t thought until then about how soon the twins would need to start working on the shop in earnest. With everything that had been happening, they had barely mentioned it. Perhaps they needed a little prod to remember their priorities. While she hadn’t always approved of their methods, the joke shop was brilliant and the wizarding world badly needed to smile and laugh.

As it seemed things were wrapping up, Hermione couldn’t help but bring up her purpose again. “Minerva, before we go, I have another topic I… hoped to get your advice on.”

“Of course,” Minerva prompted, turning her full attention on Hermione.

“I’m hoping… no, I’m going to start a group for muggleborns-”

“Hermione, dear,” Madam Pomfrey began.

“She asked for my advice, Poppy,” Minerva quietly chastised, “So I need to hear enough of what she has to say that I can give it. Go on.”

“I have a number of things I want the coalition to accomplish,” Hermione began. She almost started in at her normal talking point - the Wizengamot seats. Looking at Madam Longbottom’s avid stare, however, changed her mind. They would be able to count on the elderly woman to back up most of their proposals, but she was a pureblood. Hermione wasn’t at all sure how she would react and couldn’t afford to push away an ally. So she skipped that part for now and addressed the ones she was sure everyone at the table would agree were helpful. “I think a couple of them will benefit Hogwarts.”

She carefully outlined to the adults all the parts of her plan that would be of direct benefit. Namely, the Muggleborn Coalition going along with a school representative to speak with new muggleborn families. And, of course, assistance keeping the Muggle Studies content current.

When she came to the end, Hermione pressed, “I need more affirmation that we can work together on these classes.”

“I did think I made myself clear, Hermione.” Minerva looked apologetic, but still said, “As much as I would like to move forward with your ideas, I do not have the staff for it or the time myself to come up with the curriculum for someone else to teach.”

“What if… what if I or someone I could work with, especially for the wizarding society bit, came up with the curriculum? And what if we found a teacher rather than you having to look for one?”

Minerva stared at her for a moment. “I have every confidence that a curriculum you work out will be above and beyond any standard I might create for the class. If you are up to it, I could agree to that. It will be finding a teacher that I fear might be too much. And the Board of Governors. Honestly, I don’t know who will be on it when things are done shaking out with the Wizengamot, but whoever they are will have to approve as much as I will.”

“Leave them to me,” Hermione said with determination. “We are going to make this happen.”

****************

“I’ve got a stick up my arse because it’s too soon for this!” George cried. 

Fred felt his temper rising. “It’s not! When have we ever not tried to help people move past their problems by making everyone laugh?”

“It’s never been like this before! We’ve never been grieving and trying to cope with a media storm and sharing a wife with all our siblings and-”

“Keep it down, George! Do you want Mum to hear that?”

“Of course not,” George seemed to wilt somewhat. “I’m just trying to make you see how this is different and attacking someone as a ‘joke’ is not okay right now.”

“We’re not attacking anyone. We’re doing something harmless and silly!” How could George not see that? Fred was tired of his twin, his other half, being so somber and sad all the time. He was sad, too, but acting like it wasn’t helping anyone.

“I don’t think-”

“Of course you don’t!” Fred exploded. “You haven’t thought for yourself since I woke up after the battle. You’re Hermione’s shadow, doing whatever she wants. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” 

Fred was so frustrated he didn’t realize how upset George was getting as he spoke until his brother stormed out of their room and down the stairs. By the time he made it down to the sitting room, he was nowhere to be found. In the kitchen, he could still hear Aunt Muriel, Mum, and Bill talking. If George had gone there, they would have sounded much more upset. 

“If you’re looking for George,” Ginny said from an armchair, “He flooed to the Leaky.”

“Merlin, why?” Fred said, sliding down onto the sofa feeling defeated. He hadn’t meant for his frustration to translate into a real fight. It had been years since he and George really, truly fought about anything. Reaching out through the bond, he could feel his twin’s anger and hurt. Hermione was concerned but also happy about something. Hopefully that meant whatever was going on at Hogwarts was going well.

“Just a guess, but I would say he did it because his brother’s a git.”

“Several of them are, but never his perfect other half,” Fred answered automatically, his charismatic grin almost making it believable.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You two haven’t been getting along very well,” she observed.

“No,” Fred said slowly. He had always hated how easily she could see through him, though he supposed this wasn’t a very well-hidden secret. “Not since the battle. It’s… so much has changed and I don’t even know how or why.”

“He had to look at what his life would be without you, Fred. We all did. And it was bleak. You keep us all laughing and moving forward. George does, too, but I don’t think he was sure he would be able to without you.” Ginny’s eyes were serious and it made him really feel how desperate they all must have been, how frantic and desperate George was.

“I’m still right about our argument, but I owe him an apology,” Fred said grudgingly. 

Ginny smiled at him. Changing the subject, she said, “Do you think the Quidditch leagues will start up right away? I’ve been thinking about trying out for the Holyhead Harpies now that the war is over.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll want to get things going as soon as possible, but I think you’re supposed to hold off on tryouts until you finish Hogwarts, don’t you?” Fred asked with a raised eyebrow.

“That might be a better argument coming from one of the others,” Ginny said dryly.

He grinned. “I can certainly understand the senselessness of another year of school at this point, but Mum’s been through a lot lately. Even I’ll admit that. Having her baby girl walk away from school might just do her in.”

Whatever Ginny planned to say in response was lost as Hermione, Harry, and Fleur came out of the floo.

Fred was up and wrapping himself around Hermione almost before she had left the grate. He hadn’t realized how much he already missed her until that moment. It was still several hours until dinner. Spending the day without her was manageable, but not pleasant. Then again…

The first thing she said was, “Fred, what happened? George is still so upset. Where is he? I felt it as we were walking back to Minerva’s office and-”

“Minerva?” he asked before he could help himself.

“Apparently Hermione is an adult now. More than I am, because she never invited me, the Chosen One, to call her Minerva,” Harry teased.

“Fred, what about George?” Hermione insisted. 

He sighed. There was no point in trying to deny things when she could feel his emotions. “We got in a bit of a fight and I said some things I shouldn’t have. Things are… different between us than they’ve ever been before. It’s hard.”

Hermione flung her arms around him and squeezed. A brief kiss made Fred feel considerably more grounded and he wished George was back already to share the moment.

*****************

“Minister Shacklebolt,” Percy called out. His tone, completely deferential moments before when several Department Heads had been in the office, was different now. Almost mocking. He wasn’t sure how the man would take it, but he was willing to find out. Especially with the things he needed to accomplish. 

“Yes, Percy?” the Minister responded. Was he imagining it or had Kingsley’s voice trembled slightly like it did a couple of nights ago? He smiled as he stood and entered the Minister’s office. 

“Have you decided when you would like to visit Harry, Hermione, and Ron? It might be best if I prepare them for it this time instead of trying to spring it on them.” 

Did Kingsley look a little disappointed at the topic? Had he been hoping for something else? Percy needed to focus or he was going to have a very noticeable bulge while they had this mundane but necessary discussion. It served his purposes for Kingsley to be distracted, but Percy knew he couldn’t be. Not right now.

“If you think that would help us, then yes. Let’s schedule something. Perhaps tonight we could have dinner somewhere-”

“No,” Percy commanded, using his most dominant tone. Kingsley reacted immediately, eyes on the floor. He could see the man locking his jaw to keep from responding with ‘Yes, Sir.’ For now, that was good. That was as it should be. For now, Percy was just his Undersecretary. “No. They’ve been seen in public with you once already. If you want the trio on our side, you need to give them neutral ground.”

“So a meeting here won’t help then,” Kingsley said, his mind definitely focused on work now that he had been presented with a problem.

“No, but I think a conference room might work. A sign that you’re willing to come to them without invading their space,” Percy explained.

Kingsley nodded, seeing the strategic positives of that plan. “Can it be arranged for tonight?”

“I think it would be best to wait until tomorrow. When I get home this evening, I imagine we will have PR things to discuss.”

“The article. I had forgotten,” he said, rubbing his fingers against his temples.

Percy was amused. “Even after the press conference this morning?” 

He had personally spoken in defence of his family, reminding people that they had always been unorthodox and that didn’t change their nobility considering the deeds done. He had even managed to make a joke about the newlyweds being a little too attached yet, though it made him want to sneer to pretend he didn’t have just as much of a claim on her. Well, not just as much, but he would have his place with her when they were both ready.

Minister Shacklebolt had spoken about not only their deeds in the war, but those of several others, bestowing the houses of Ollivander, Brown, Jordan, Lovegood, Lupin, Thomas, Patil, Spinnet, Johnson, and Finnegan with Nobility as well. They had taken the tactic of distraction more than fighting the ridiculous rumors themselves.

There had been a mixed response, mostly to the newly named Noble houses. Merlin only knew what Skeeter was going to do with them. Some people had protested that they would be stacking the Wizengamot against purebloods, despite the fact that many of the families added were purebloods as well. But some were only recent immigrants. Others had too many muggleborns in their history, though no one dared say that out loud. Some of the names had previously been considered too common or muggle to constitute a Wizarding House. The prejudices ran deep and strong. 

Percy was determined to make up for the things he had done and helped do. Some of them had been necessary, of course. Once he realized his mistake, it wasn’t as though he left immediately. There had been things he could do - withholding information until it was too late, ensuring that memos important to Voldemort’s regime were lost or sent to the wrong place, occasionally even setting off some product of his brothers’ to cause chaos and keep everyone busy. He never did enough to allow discovery, just enough to disrupt things. 

It wasn’t much, but it had been a way to fight back and stay informed at the same time. Percy hadn’t expected his family to accept him back after the way he had behaved, so he couldn’t have left sooner. Now he realized that was ridiculous, but it had seemed so clear at the time. And he had been busy with his after-hours learning and entertainment, as well. It had been a dark time, but he didn’t entirely regret it. Only when he thought about his father was he overcome with how wrong he had been.

There had been plenty of wrong things, though. Percy would see the wizarding world through to a better place now. He had other plans eventually, things outside the Ministry, but this needed to be done first. He was so grateful that he could do it with his wife and family by his side. 

***************

“What are you doing here?” Charlie slurred.

“I’ve been in town for a while,” George said somewhat elusively. “Came through here a few hours ago but you didn’t look like you wanted to be bothered.”

“Didn’t. Don’t. Leave me alone,” Charlie grumbled.

George shook his head. Or Charlie thought he did. There were several Georges in front of him and he wasn’t sure if they were shaking their heads or dancing the way they moved in and out of each other. Whatever he had done, he also disappeared.

Blinking, Charlie smiled when he saw the Georges coming back from the bar, a shot glass in each of their many hands. He wasn’t smiling after he threw it back and everything became suddenly very clear.

He started coughing for a few moments, the unexpected return to sobriety taking its toll. George wasn’t smiling either when Charlie finally caught up with the change. 

“What the bloody hell was that for?”

“We’ll be needed at home, soon. I assume there’ll be a bit of a family meeting tonight. Kingsley and Percy did some damage control this morning apparently, but I don’t think we’ve had an official response from the family,” George told him. Charlie couldn’t argue with the logic of all that, but...

“Shouldn’t you know?”

“What the family’s been up to?” George was staring at the grain of the table now as though it were completely fascinating. “No. I’ve been out most of the day, too. First drink I’ve had, though,” he grinned as he held up his shot glass.

“I take it yours wasn’t Sober Up?” Charlie snickered. He couldn’t stay mad at George for bringing him back to his senses before he went home and made a fool of himself.

“Nope.”

“So… are you going to tell me why you’ve been in the Alley all day if not to torment your big brother?” Charlie asked, both curious and feeling like George probably needed to talk about whatever it was.

He apparently wasn’t ready yet, though. George lifted an eyebrow and said, “Are you going to tell me why you’ve been drinking since 7 in the morning?”

Charlie blinked back the emotions that ripped through him again now that the alcohol was out of his system. “Fred pointed out how unlikely it is that I’ll be able to go back to the dragons. I know it seems stupid to everyone else, but… they’re my life! Or they were. They still should be. There’s Hermione now, but… when I just loved her on my own, I thought it would somehow work out. She loves creatures too and maybe we could both be happy there or… I mean, it was never more than a dream anyway. I expected to get over it sooner or later.”

“You loved Hermione before?” George said, eyes sharp.

“Yeah. I… Honestly, I thought Ginny would have spread it around after I told her.”

“No. Ginny doesn’t tell people’s secrets. Ever.”

Charlie looked a bit shocked at that but quickly regained his composure. “Well… good, but I guess that means I should have a longer talk with Hermione about it.” He grimaced, thinking about how awkward it would be.

“I think she would be glad to know,” George said gently. “It really bothers her that we might have all felt forced into the situation. And with the possibility of a career change and move making it worse on you… she’ll feel bloody awful if she thinks you would have preferred not to be with her in the first place.”

He sucked in air at the very idea he wouldn’t have wanted her. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. I will have to talk to her.” He gulped, but his mind was made up.

“Now what have you been up to? I’ve spilled mine,” Charlie probed.

The sigh George gave confirmed his day had been shite as well. “I was at the shop. Cleaning up a bit, but mostly just looking at things. Fred and I… we had a fight this morning. And I think I was wrong.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Charlie asked, as cautious as he would be at work. Poking a temperamental Weasley wasn’t far off from handling dragons.

“Yes. No. I think it’s too early to start pranking people. We’re still recovering,” George said.

“And Fred disagrees,” Charlie stated, knowing that was the case.

“Of course. But I stopped him and we… I don’t think we’ve yelled at each other like that in years. He said some things he shouldn’t have,” George said, looking glum.

“Did you say some things like that back?”

“No, actually, but I feel guilty anyway.”

Charlie chuckled darkly. “Why? What’s there to feel guilty about, especially if he hurt you?” 

“He’s right . We have to be careful about which pranks we pull, but we’ve always helped the family get through things by making everyone laugh.” George frowned, unhappy with his own answer, but clearly knowing it was true.

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Charlie asked in his best big brother tone. He had stolen it from Bill years ago.

George’s lips twitched slightly, obviously recognizing the tone. “I just need to plan a little ‘I’m sorry’ prank.” As he said the words ‘I’m Sorry’, George broke into a full smile. He obviously had a plan formulating in his mind, and Charlie could see the gears turning in George’s head.

Charlie couldn’t help but smile back. “Need any help with that?”

At first he thought George was going to say no, but then he nodded. “Yeah, actually. I could use some help if you wouldn’t mind.”

“What are brothers for?” Charlie’s grin rivaled George’s as George summoned a notebook and laid it onto the table in front of them. They had a prank to plan.

Notes:

What might Aunt Muriel and Hermione and the rest cook up for dealing with Skeeter?

Who should end up being professors?

I'm really uncertain what to do with Harry. What do you want to see? I have several different possibilities but I'm wondering if anyone has any interesting ideas or things they're hoping to see.

What do you think the prank will be?

The primary reason for editting the Tea with McGonagall and company scene was for Hermione to tell her about the Muggleborn Coalition. There's also a fun little aside about how McGonagall learned muggle dancing and some additional banter between everyone.

Chapter 17

Notes:

I have a lot to say this time.

First of all, thank you to LadyWinterLight, StarGirlPotter, and Astrangefan for putting up with me and my everchanging whims.

Next, it wouldn't be a bad idea to re-read the Tea with McGonagall and Company scene from Chapter 16 again as I expanded it. There is a summary of what was added in the end notes for that chapter if you don't want to fully read it. Honestly, I could have just had Hermione go see her again for another tea time (which she will do at other points, just not right now) but I feel like that would slow the story down more when it was easy to insert in the conversation they already had. I had meant to add these things in the first place, just forgot amongst all the other things they needed to talk about. Should have made a list, but I am a Chaos Monkey.

So about this whole Chaos Monkey thing... I'm both thrilled to have you all along for the ride of writing this by the seat of my pants and also apologetic because, seriously, I make big mistakes sometimes. Fortunately, the two I made this time were caught and corrected in various ways. But that doesn't always happen.

So YOU. You right there - the reader who notices all the details and REMEMBERS them, the reader who sometimes reads this and thinks "This author is a chaotic mess and doesn't even remember what she wrote." You are RIGHT. And I could use your help. Seriously, if there is anyone who is good at remembering details and has the time and desire to do it, I could badly use a continuity editor (not sure if there is a name for that in the fanfic world). This story has a ridiculous number of moving parts and one of the things that slows me down most in writing new chapters is all the time I spend re-reading segments of what I wrote to figure out details - and then I still get big stuff wrong sometimes. I would prefer that the person is available to talk via facebook messenger as that's the messaging system I use. My name is Millie Ebbenflow over there. Come find me and let's talk. (And if you spaced out some time ago because you are also a Chaos Monkey and this whole remembering details thing isn't in your wheelhouse, you're still welcome to come find me on facebook.)

See. I've already forgotten the next thing I wanted to say.

Well, I do remember this one... I took part in the Flavors of Summer: Taste the Kink fest that revealed yesterday. My story for it is a Percy/Narcissa that... Well, let me explain it like this - I seriously considered creating a new AO3 account to post smut this filthy on. So, it's not like what I write here, mmmmkay? But if you're into hardcore BDSM smut and want to see Percy be an absolutely merciless Dom, go read it. MIND THE TAGS.

Along these same lines, I also have a story in the Sensual Summer fest for the Kinks of Knockturn Alley group that releases the stories sometime next week, I think. It's a Percy/Hermione - but in no way connected to Weasley Magic - that belongs on that alternate account I didn't make as well. It's another very intense BDSM story. Everything is consensual in both of these stories, but it may not be to some people's taste. I mention them here because I'm dragging out the Kinky Percy storyline here in Weasley Magic, so thought there might be some who would be interested in reading about him elsewhere, doing far kinkier stuff than he'll be doing in this story anytime soon (or ever in some cases).

Is that everything? I think that's everything. I'll stop babbling now and let you enjoy the chapter. Right now. Really, I'm not going to talk anymore. Always, your Chaos Monkey.

Charlie and George tumbled out of the floo only a few moments ahead of Percy, who was looking stately in his robes. Bill heaved a sigh of relief that they made it home in time. 

 

“Everyone in the kitchen, please,” he requested. 

 

“But we just-”

 

“We have limited time before Mum comes back and we all need to talk,” Bill insisted. There was too much to cover for them to stand here and argue.

 

Thankfully, all three of his brothers nodded solemnly and headed that way. He was worried about how this might go, but it had to happen. Walking into the kitchen, he observed everyone taking a place around the table. Ron, Harry, and Ginny were together as usual. Hermione came next, with Fred on her side. Across the table, Fleur had been sitting next to his own spot. The three newcomers sat next to her. He noticed that it was Charlie who sat directly across from Hermione with George across from Fred.

 

Not wanting to waste time, Bill launched straight in. “Mum’s at Aunt Muriel’s doing something, so we’ll be able to talk freely, but I’m not sure for how long. We need to come up with a plan to tell Mum.”

 

Everyone groaned. “We’ve just got her calmed down again,” George lamented. “And it wasn’t easy.”

 

“I know,” Bill said, rubbing his head. After spending the entire day with his mother and her aunt, he was exhausted and had a terrible headache. He wanted nothing more than to go home and snuggle down between his wives. If he could have both of them. “But we can’t hide it forever, especially since we all need to spend time with our wife.”

 

He couldn’t stop the heated look he sent Hermione’s way. Nor did he miss the way Hermione blushed and Fleur smiled beautifically between the two of them. He had fought the way he felt about Hermione, but there was no use denying it now. He wanted her too badly and needed to spend time with her. The hugs yesterday and touching her through the night had helped, but he honestly had to admit that he wanted more.

 

Around the table, his siblings were nodding and giving her looks as well. Hermione continued to blush, even after Ginny took her hand and whispered something in her ear. Actually, that seemed to have made her blush all the harder. 

 

“How are you feeling about this, Hermione?” Percy asked. Bill was a little surprised it was he who thought to check on her.

 

“I’m… flattered, but very overwhelmed. Trying to meet everyone’s needs is… difficult. I try to be with whoever needs me most, but-”

 

“Which is Georgie and I,” Fred said confidently.

 

“Not always,” Hermione replied, her tone right on the edge of irritated. “Just because there is a deeper bond to the two of you doesn’t mean I’m going to leave anyone else out. I can’t! I feel… rather unbalanced sometimes. Like I haven’t connected enough. For me, I mean.”

 

“Your needs and feelings are valid, too,” Percy said. “They should be most important, actually.” He sent a look around the table that dared anyone to argue. When Percy’s eyes landed on Hermione, she stared back at him, shocked. Bill couldn’t understand it for a moment, watching the two of them, but then he realized it: no one ever put Hermione first. Nothing in the wizarding world had prepared her for having someone else care about her needs or about her at all. Bill felt ashamed of himself, of all of them, for not seeing it before.

 

Ginny spoke up. Having clearly seen what Bill saw, she tucked a curl behind Hermione’s ear, “You haven’t been taking very good care of yourself, rushing around to meet everyone else’s needs, and we haven’t looked after you properly either.”

 

Bill knew that statement made him look at her more closely, but he suspected the rest of them were as well. Hermione was still far too skinny. She and Harry both, but she didn’t seem to be recovering the way he was. She didn’t seem to have much of an appetite, unlike the boys. 

 

“I hadn’t realized until now how fatigued you seem,” Bill said, his brow creasing with worry. 

 

Hermione uncomfortably tried to deflect it into a joke, “Are you trying to say I look bad?”

 

Everyone was staring at her now and it was clearly making her uncomfortable, but Bill wasn’t about to tell them to stop. Now that he had really noticed, he wanted them all to see it as well. He could tell on each of their faces the moment it actually registered.

 

“Blimey, Mione,” Ron said, “Are you eating anything?”

 

“Of course I am!” she scoffed. “As much as I can manage. I just… I can’t handle much before I start to feel sick.”

 

“And sleep, Draga?” Charlie asked. “Are you getting enough of it?” 

 

Hermione looked cornered when she defensively said, “As much as I can manage. Everyone needs time first, though, and-”

 

“We need a schedule,” Percy said, pulling out a quill. With a couple of waves of his wand, a piece of parchment appeared in front of each person, a timetable and calendar appearing on them as he drew them out.

 

“Don’t you think that’s a little heavy-handed?” Bill asked, but he was one of many.

 

George was frowning. “I don’t think putting things down on paper will make everyone take care of her properly.”

 

“Haven’t we had enough timetables?” Ron groaned.

 

“Won’t this make everything a bit… robotic?” Harry asked.

 

The entire table of redheads turned to him, confused. “What does ‘robotic’ mean?” Fred asked curiously.

 

“You would love them!” Hermione enthused, seeming relieved they weren’t speaking directly of her health any longer. “They’re muggle machines that can do things for you.”

 

“Like a house elf?” George asked.

 

“Are you saying that spending time with us would make Hermione feel like a house elf?” Ginny asked. It didn’t seem like she was certain whether she should be insulted or not.

 

“No!” Harry rushed to say.

 

“The thing about robots,” Hermione interceded, “Is that they can only do a small set of things. And their movements aren’t very smooth. So when muggles say something is robotic, they mean that it is rather limited and… cumbersome in the way it works. I… honestly, having a schedule sounds like a huge relief. What Harry is asking is if scheduling a rotation of people spending time with me won’t feel limiting. Like, what if I’m scheduled with Ginny, but Percy has had a hard day and needs attention.”

 

Everyone nodded, thinking those ideas through. 

 

“I think that we’ll need to go into this understanding that things change sometimes,” Percy said matter-of-factly. “It’s the plan, but it’s not an absolute. If someone’s needs exceed a certain level, the schedule will have to shift. But it’s a starting point.”

 

Slowly, heads began to nod. Then Fred burst out, “This takes away all the spontaneity in our relationships.”

 

“I think I can still hug or kiss other partners during someone’s scheduled time, can’t I? If we run across one another?”

 

Ginny was the one who said, “You better be able to!”

 

“You should be able to do whatever you want or need to do,” Charlie said, his voice a low rumble.

 

Hermione nodded. “So there would still be some spontaneity. I just wouldn’t feel pulled in different directions all the time, trying to give everyone enough attention.”

 

“A good starting point would be for everyone to say if there are specific scheduling needs they have right now. Let’s start with you, Bill,” Percy said, his voice far more commanding than any of them were accustomed to.

 

He felt himself blush at being called on so soon. It was like being caught unprepared at school. “I… we haven’t really had any time lately.”

 

“We would like to ‘ave ‘er at ze cottage for a night,” Fleur spoke up, her hand on his.

 

“You’re not married to her,” Percy frowned. “I’m not sure you-”

 

“We would like to host Hermione at the cottage,” Bill said, barely controlling the urge to growl.

 

“And Fleur gets a say as well,” Hermione declared. 

 

“What!?” Fred cried. “There are already enough of us as is!”

 

“Do not forget that I have a right to my own time, and part of that will include Fleur. I wish for her requests to be included, so they will be,” Hermione stated firmly. “She is also part of this marriage, by virtue of being Bill’s first wife. She deserves to be involved in how we work things out.” Bill’s eyebrows rose a bit, but he nodded, as did most of the people around the table. Fred looked like he was going to argue some more, but a look - and probably some twinspeak - from George silenced him before he could start.

 

Percy nodded and jotted something down, presumably Bill and Fleur’s request, on a separate piece of parchment. Looking up, he prompted, “Charlie? You next.”

 

Biting his lip, Charlie seemed reluctant to talk, but when Hermione reached across the table and put her hand on his, he smiled. “I… still feel much more… needy than I thought I would. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but… I need to go back to Romania…” There were gasps all around and he had to raise his voice to continue. “To talk to Mikal about maybe helping at times or how to work it out part time or… something.” His voice broke and Hermione squeezed his hand again.

 

“Charlie, if you need to work there, we’ll work something out,” Hermione told him. “Though we have some information to talk to you about, about another possible job I think you would like.”

 

Charlie raised an eyebrow, “What-”

 

“Not right now. We have to stay on task while Mum is gone and job options can be discussed with her here,” Percy interrupted.

 

“I’m not sure about that,” Charlie started, but changed his mind at the look Percy was giving him. “But what I need… in regard to Hermione, is for her to come to Romania with me for at least a couple of days.” 

 

“We would need to go, too,” Fred said, eyeing George. He seemed quite put out when his twin shook his head.

 

“I don’t think we would, Freddie,” he said. “It would be a good test to see how we do when separated. And you and I need to be working in the shop. A lot of places on Diagon are already open or will be soon. Plus we all know how much the world needs jokes right now.” George grinned at his twin and, despite his irritation, Fred tentatively smiled back.

 

“Fine,” he said. “She can go without us, but-”

 

“ She can do whatever she decides to do, thank you,” Hermione said, drawing slightly away from him.

 

Fred held up his hands. “Anything for you, wifey. I just… we’re saying what we need.”

 

“Fine,” she agreed. “What are your needs, Percy? Since we seem to be going oldest to youngest.”

 

“Always leaving me til last,” Ginny muttered while crossing her arms.

 

Percy looked somewhat startled at being asked. Then he steepled his hands and stared at Hermione seriously. “I don’t know what to ask for. I don’t think… we’re not ready to move our relationship forward, but I do need to spend time with you. Perhaps we can just, for now, schedule time together to work on the demands and legislation we need to draft. As long as we touch some during those sessions, I think I will be content.”

 

Hermione nodded, but looked a little concerned. “I need to research the family bond - and I may need access to the Weasley Family Legacies for it - to know if this unbalanced feeling I have is because the last two bonds aren’t sealed. I don’t want to force anything on the two of you,” she looked back and forth between Percy and Ron, “but if that’s what’s causing this, I’m not sure-”

 

“We’ll make it work, Mione, don’t worry,” Ron assured, though he paled as he said it.

 

Percy nodded in a ‘that’s that’ way that mimicked their mother. Bill smiled at the gesture. “So… Fred?”

 

“Georgie and I need as much time with her as possible,” Fred said. His chin was tilted up in defiance. “At least every other night. Except the bloody trip to Romania, I guess.”

 

George was shaking his head, but then seemed to think better of it. “For now, I may agree,” he said. “For one thing, we have to maintain the public picture of a happy triad only. But also, it is a strain when we’re away from you too long, love.”

 

Hermione nodded reluctantly. Bill could tell she must feel it, too.

 

“We’ve got to get the flat above the shop ready before anything else,” George said.

 

“So that we can get out from under Mum’s roof and whoever needs it can be with her,” Fred said. His eyes drifted reluctantly to Charlie, who gave a tiny nod of thanks.

 

“Just, with us there, too, if it’s at the flat,” George continued. “As we learn how much we can take, maybe we could do every third night or something.”

 

“Thank you, George, Fred,” Hermione said, beaming at them. “Maybe I need to do research in the Prewett Legacies, too, to see if there is anything about the triad soulbond we did.”

 

Bill nodded. “I’ll get all the Legacies for you. Ron?”

 

“Well, I don’t… I mean, we’re just friends, but maybe me and Harry can have time with her every couple of days? At least an hour or two? We’re used to being together constantly until this last week. It’s… weird not being together. Feels like I lost a limb,” Ron said, blushing. “As far as touching, friendly hugs are enough for me.”

 

Percy nodded and smiled at his youngest brother. “That can be easily arranged.”

 

“And now me!” Ginny declared, causing everyone else to laugh. It was very reminiscent of scenes around this table when they were young, Ginny always irritated and impatient that she had to be last. “I need time with Mione, it feels like every day but maybe I could do less. I don’t know, but… if Mum makes me go back to Hogwarts, what do I do?”

 

Her lip was trembling and Bill felt a deep need to make things better for her. He hated seeing Ginny upset. Always had.

 

“We’ll have to tell Minerva,” Hermione stated. “ I will tell her if it comes to that, and we will work something out. I don’t know what we’ll all decide, but… it might not be as difficult to arrange as you think.” Her eyes had a mischievous glint.

 

“Why?” Ginny asked.

 

“Not now,” Percy said, reminding them again that they had limited time. “I think I can work something out with this schedule. I believe we’ll give priority to Shell Cottage first - tomorrow.”

 

“But-” Charlie began.

 

“Why not tonight?” Fleur asked, pouting a bit. Bill laughed to himself. Not that he didn’t want Hermione with them tonight, but he loved getting to make his wife happy again when she was sad. He and Fleur would have a good night tonight if he had anything to say about it.

 

Percy held up a hand to stall both of them. “Tomorrow, it would be appreciated if anyone who can help could give a hand at the twins’ flat. She can’t stay with you tonight, Fleur, because it would be too hard to explain. Mum doesn’t need to know about any time that Hermione is not with the twins. It will only make her suspicious and we still haven’t figured out how or when to tell her.” His eyes met Bill’s and Bill was forced to shrug. He wasn’t sure either.

 

“So Mum needs to believe Hermione is with the twins at their flat,” Percy continued. “After the night at Shell Cottage, I think there should be one actually at the flat, then Romania for two nights.”

 

“Where am I in all that?” Ginny demanded.

 

“Gin, I want to spend daytimes with you,” Hermione said. 

 

“And een ze future you can stay with us when ‘Ermione eez with us. Zees first time, zo…” Fleur offered.

 

“We need her to ourselves,” Bill finished. He was blushing as he said it, but he wouldn’t be deterred. He was the Head of the House, after all, and he could demand far more if he were that sort of person. “So… Percy, can you work more with Hermione to iron out a schedule after that.”

 

“Of course,” Percy smirked at him. “Everyone keep your parchment. I’ll change it as often as needed.”

 

There were nods around the table, then they all looked back up to Bill. He sighed. “Now, about Mum…”

 

“Perhaps it would be best to just tell her? We could even do it tonight,” Hermione suggested, though she was fidgeting as she said it, looking worried.

 

“No,” Bill said. “It’s been a very long day for her and I and we’re on good terms at the moment. If it’s all the same to the rest of you, I would like to bask in this for a day or two.” 

 

“Oh, please don’t make us avoid getting screamed at,” Ron dramatically acted as though he were upset. Harry laughed beside him. 

 

“It’s not really a laughing matter,” George said quietly. “The longer we wait, the more furious she will be when it comes out. We have to tell her before Skeeter finds out. And you know the nasty bug will.”

 

“Speaking of that,” Hermione said, “What are we going to do in response to the article?”

 

Bill gave what he knew was a wolfishly evil grin. “Aunt Muriel, Mum, and I have that worked out. You’ll see in tomorrow’s paper.”

 

“Is that all?” Percy asked. “I have somewhere to be.”

 

“Well, I have another order of business that might be best discussed before your Mum arrives, but I suppose you don’t have to be here for it as it doesn’t affect you directly,” Hermione said, though she had to admit she was desperately curious where Percy had to be.

 

Percy nodded and stood, tucking his quill and parchments away somewhere Bill couldn’t see inside his light dinner jacket. Was there anyone around here who wasn’t walking around with an Undetectable Extension Charm? 

 

Walking swiftly, Percy moved to Hermione’s side, bowing and asking politely, “May I kiss you, Hermione?” 

 

Blushing, she agreed. And then it appeared as though she were going to melt into the bench as Percy kissed her. When she was released, Hermione slumped into a giggling Ginny, with Fred holding her hands in front of himself. “Are you okay, wifey?” he asked.

 

“Never… better…” she managed to breathe. Her voice always sounded a little awed after Percy kissed her and Bill had to admit it stung his ego. He wanted to do that to her as well. He wondered what trick his younger brother was using.

 

“Oh!” Percy said just before leaving the room. “Could Harry, Ron, and Hermione be ready for a meeting with Kingsley tomorrow at 2? I can spend some time with you in the morning, Hermione, to go over your list of demands and ensure they are properly done.”

 

She smiled at him, both boys nodding beside her. It was Harry who spoke with a sigh. “Yes, let’s get it over with.”

 

“Perfect. We’ll have tea and biscuits for you there.” Ron perked up at the mention of biscuits and Bill shook his head at his youngest brother’s bottomless stomach.

 

As Percy left the room, Bill looked to Hermione. She nodded and began explaining what they had discussed with Minerva. “So, we were thinking that perhaps, if you want to, Charlie, that the Care of Magical Creatures position might be perfect for you. If… you know, you decide that staying in the UK is the right thing for-”

 

Hermione’s words ended on a squeal as Charlie picked her up and twirled her around, laughing. He ended by crushing her to him, the rest of them no longer existing for the couple, as he whispered in her ear. “Thank you, Draga. I was so lost.”

 

“I’m sorry it’s not dragons,” she told him, but Charlie shook his head. 

 

“We’re still going to talk to Mikal, or I am at least, but I hope you’ll come with me.” He smiled at her nod. “Maybe I can go sometimes. On a weekend or something. Stay in the field enough… if they ever open a Reserve here in the UK, I could be eligible.”

 

Bill breathed a sigh of relief, even as the two continued in their own world, babbling excitedly about creatures and lesson plans and what Charlie considered the hard part of it all - corralling the children. Bill shook his head at the idea that his brother could contain multiple dragons without a second thought, but schoolchildren would give him pause. 

 

Fleur turned to Bill and said, “Zat eez not all. Zey are desperate for many positions. Zey need as well, Ancient Runes, Potions, and Defense Against ze Dark Arts. And Muggle Studies, but we do not know zat one.”

 

Bill’s joy at the idea of working in Hogwarts died quickly when he realized that leaving Gringott’s was essentially impossible. “Fleur, love, you know we can’t…”

 

“Professor McGonagall offered to buy out our contracts!” she told him excitedly.

 

Blinking, Bill tried to process that. “She can’t possibly know what she would be getting into. And I can’t imagine how she would leverage enough money to buy even one of us,” he told her regretfully.

 

“You deed not see zat room, Beel,” she replied, “where ‘Arry and ‘Ermione asked ze castle to provide goblin-made items. Eet was giant! We took enough, but zere was so much more! Eet might actually be enough. Eef zey are weeling to use eet, we would be stupid not to take ze opportunity.”

 

He didn’t quite believe it, but Bill smiled at her anyway. “So what would we teach?”

 

“I was thinking you would like Ancient Runes or…” dropping her voice, she indicated Harry, “zey asked ze boy to be ze Defence teacher, when ‘e eez just a child. Eef one of us took that, eet would save ‘im ze guilt. And ze other could do Ancient Runes.”

 

“I would have thought you would want Potions,” Bill said, his adoration for his wife flaring as it usually did when they discussed life plans. No matter what Mum had to say about it, Fleur was an amazing, selfless woman and he was going to help the rest of the world see it if it killed him. Her concern for Harry was just one more thing to add to the list.

 

“You know I would enjoy zat, but I doubt zey will find another Ancient Runes teacher,” she said.

 

Bill refrained from saying that, if the goblins wouldn’t let them go, the school would have to. He would let her hope as long as she could. Who knows, perhaps she was right.

 

“I… might be willing to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Harry said reluctantly. “I think Mione should be the Muggle Studies teacher, with the new curriculum she’s going to create.”

 

“What!?” Ron exclaimed. “You can’t. We’re going to be Aurors!”

 

Harry looked very uncomfortable, running his hands through his hair. “Ron, I…” 

 

“Come on, Harry. I knew Hermione might chicken out and want to run off to school or somewhere, but you and I are meant to be a team together, chasing down the rest of the Death Eaters until this war is done!”

 

Gulping, Harry shook his head. “I know… We used to talk about it. And I used to… to want that. But Ron… I died. And I’m weak right now from being on the run so long. I’m not ready to be an Auror. Maybe I never will be. You will be great without me.”

 

“That’s rubbish! You’re Harry Potter. They’ll make exceptions for you if you can’t handle parts of it yet,” Ron insisted.

 

But Harry was shaking his head. “I don’t want them to do that. And it wouldn’t be safe if they did. If we were partners and something happened to you because I wasn’t properly trained, I could never forgive myself. This just… Ron, I don’t want to be an Auror right now.”

 

“I can’t believe-” Ron cut himself off, pushing away from the table and storming out. They could hear his trainers clomping on the stairs all the way up the house to his attic bedroom. 

 

After a few moments of silence, Harry looking practically shattered and Charlie holding Hermione to his chest so that she didn’t storm after Ron, Bill decided he should try to calm things down. 

 

“Harry,” Bill gently began, “Don’t you think you’re a little young for it? The Professorship, I mean.” 

 

He squared his shoulders. “The Aurors don’t think I’m too young for them, obviously. Kingsley doesn’t seem to think I’m too young to be some kind of political figurehead. Voldemort didn’t think I was too young to be murdered.”

 

Fred snorted, “Voldy thought you were fair game as an infant. I don’t think his opinion matters much.”

 

“The real question is… do you want to do it?” Ginny said, hand on his arm. Bill was happy to see that the two of them were still managing to stay close despite the way their feelings toward one another had shifted.

 

Harry looked contemplative. “I don’t know. I had hoped to just… take some time to recover.”

 

“It’s okay to choose that, mate,” George told him. “Haven’t seen it in a few years, but you had a vault full of galleons last I heard, not to mention whatever comes to you over this Lordship business.”

 

“And if you ever need money, remember you were our investor when we needed one - the whole reason we even have a shop. So we owe you,” Fred said seriously.

 

“Or if you just want something fun to do, we can always use a hand there, or someone to talk to while we create,” George added.

 

“We could also let you become a hermit in Grimmauld Place if that’s your preference,” Fred snickered. “You can spend all your time relaxing with Kreacher and that horrible portrait.”

 

Harry visibly shuddered, though he was laughing nonetheless. The twins had that effect, and it felt good to see them using it. 

 

“Well, I won’t be letting you become a hermit. And I doubt Hermione will either. Or Ron, once he comes around. So you had best think up a better plan,” Ginny told him. 

 

Dropping his head in his hands, Harry groaned, but nodded. Bill put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got a start on the Head of House thing. You’re going to be plenty busy with that, too. You really don’t need anything else to do this year unless you’re very sure you want to do it.”

 

There was relief in Harry’s eyes when he looked up at him. It shook Bill a little bit to realize that he was now the father figure, or the closest any of them had to one, in all their lives. He could see it in Harry’s eyes now, looking at him like his opinion, his approval, mattered.

 

Fleur must have understood how he was feeling, because she stepped up where they were and said, “Beel, wasn’t zere some more business with ‘Arry? About ze Lordship?”

 

“Merlin, yes. Would you like me to arrange a meeting with the goblins for you? I think they will allow me to act as liaison for you.”

 

“As long as it doesn’t conflict with the meeting with Kingsley, I’m available any time,” Harry agreed. “I really hope you’re there with me. Do you think… uh, Hermione?”

 

Pulling away from the snog she was sharing with Charlie, Hermione acknowledged him, “Harry?”

 

“Bill’s going to make an appointment for me at Gringotts. Will you come with us?”

 

“Of course,” she replied. She looked at Bill and started, “It might also be a good time to-”

 

But he didn’t get to find out what since the floo went off, Hermione practically leapt away from Charlie to be next to George, and Mum bustled in moments later. She looked more at peace than he had seen her in... months really, despite having spent her entire day with Aunt Muriel. 

 

She had some sort of project tucked under her arm, so she went to her yarn basket first and buried it - probably a welcoming gift for Hermione, or a head start on the Yule jumpers. Turning from the basket, Mum began moving from one to the other, crushing them in hugs and asking how they each were doing. 

 

When she reached Bill, she kissed his cheek and whispered, “I’m so proud of you, son. You’ve become the man we always hoped you would be.”

 

A surprised sigh of relief slipped from Bill before he could stop it. His voice was a little shakier than he wanted it to be when he said, “Thanks, Mum. I always try to be.”

 

It had been a long day, and he knew he still had so much to learn, but there was major progress today and the family meeting had gone well, even if Hermione and Percy had run much of it. They were the organizers, after all. It made sense. As he offered to help set the table for the gigantic meal most of them didn’t actually need, Bill smiled to himself. Things were going to get better. They already were.

 

***************

 

George excused himself immediately after dinner. Charlie winked at him as he was leaving the room, but otherwise no one seemed to notice. Pranking his twin had always been a challenge when they shared so much between the bond, but George was determined. 

 

Speaking up during the family meeting about the joke shop and how the world needed them had made Fred seem much happier. His magical core was humming happily - though that could also be a result of Hermione snuggled up to him - and George was feeling the euphoria, too. He could only imagine how much better that was going to get soon. Well, in the morning. For now, he was just preparing. He would sneak back out of bed later and make the switch. Charlie had already whispered to him earlier that he had his part ready.

 

He just couldn’t think about any of it. Or he had to come up with a plausible excuse. Surely there was some new product idea he hadn’t told Fred about yet that he could pass off his mischievous happiness to be about. Ah yes, the one he thought of when Percy pulled out his quill earlier. The De-Inking Quill - guaranteed to remove all ink from a page the moment it touches the parchment. They would have to come up with a way to easily put it back exactly as it was - perhaps a different quill, sold in a set, or perhaps just a changed spell word. He would discuss it with Fred.

 

While he contemplated, George’s hands were busy with his task. He was well and done and the object of his work hidden away by the time Fred came knocking on the door to the loo. He opened the door innocently to see his twin with an eyebrow arched. 

 

“What are you up to?” Fred asked, knowing exactly what the emotions George was projecting typically meant. Hermione was behind him, looking considerably more concerned than intrigued.

 

“Let me tell you about this product I’ve thought of!” George began, leading them both back to their room. 

 

He couldn’t stop laughing at Hermione’s absolute shock and horror at the concept of a quill that removed all of your ink. “Think of the panic a student would have if they had written most of an essay then switched to this, seeing it all go blank.” She shook her head in dismay.

 

George exchanged an amused look with his twin. “That is exactly what we’re thinking of, love,” he told her with a grin. 

 

He was certain she was about to start lecturing when Fred swooped in with the best idea of the night: a kiss to stop her mind in its tracks. A very successful idea, at that. With a grin, George decided to join, moving behind her on the bed.

 

Between kisses to her neck, George said, “You know, Mrs. Weasley, we haven’t had much time alone with you since the bonding. I think we’re overdue.”

 

“Not if you ever call me Mrs. Weasley again,” Hermione said, pulling away from Fred for a moment and glaring over her shoulder at George. 

 

Both twins laughed as Fred took that moment to attack her neck, now stretched and exposed to him, and George leaned forward to capture her lips and hold her in position. 

 

When she was squirming against him from the way Fred’s lips were tickling and tantalizing her, George released her lips and said, “I trust you aren’t going to say anything about our mother?”

 

“As long as you don’t call me by her name,” Hermione agreed, panting. 

 

“Fine then, wifey,” Fred said against her skin.

 

Hermione’s breathy tone took any sting out of her words, “That’s… Ooooo… not much better, arseholes.”

 

George laughed with his brother as their hands began to wander. With a nod to one another, their hands snaked under her shirt. Fred brushed along the underside of her breasts as George unfastened her bra. Moving together, they lifted her shirt over her head and Fred pulled the bra off in front.

 

“How do you two always start getting me naked before I can-” She was cut off by her own moan when each of them wrapped a hand around one of her breasts, squeezing and rubbing her. 

 

Hermione’s back arched against him and George felt himself reacting. He slid from behind her, still supportive along her side, but now close enough to kiss down her front, starting back at the column of her neck and moving slowly along her olive skin to the swell of her breast. Fred was already licking at sucking at her nipple before George made it that far down, but he knew he was still responsible for some of her breathy little moans and whimpers.

 

When they both had their mouths on her, George heard Hermione unexpectedly whisper, “Evanesco,” and felt the sudden lack of clothing, knowing from Fred’s startled grunt that he was bare as well. Before George could adjust to the change, he realized their wife had snaked her hand down between their bodies - both hands, one on each of them. 

 

Lust, an intense drive for more, exploded through the bond in all directions. George couldn’t have said which of them it came from if he tried. Probably all of them and it was just magnifying as they all shared the emotions.

 

Hermione gasped, “Are we trying to open the bonds like we did before? Because I feel like-” Again, she was cut off, moaning, when she twisted her hand on each cock simultaneously and it reverberated between them.

 

“Bloody hell, I hope not. I want to be inside you this time,” Fred panted. 

 

George agreed. He had never felt anything like the synchronicity they had when it was the three of them together. “We’ll never make it if just touching feels this bloody good.”

 

“I… have to… research…” Hermione tried to talk as she pumped at them both, shivering every time her hand moved and the bond peeked open that tiny bit more.

 

“Stop, love,” George told her. “If we want more, I think we better move and make it happen.”

 

Fred grinned. “Let’s get you prepared. Want me to eat her out while you keep at her tits?” Fred asked him.

 

George agreed with a grin. With Fred spreading her legs and diving in, it didn’t take very long for all three of them to have to just stop and breathe again. 

 

“You’re sopping wet, Hermione,” Fred said, “I want to do more to you, but I don’t think I can hold back if you come. And I want… Merlin…” He gasped as she slid her hands, one after the other, through her slick folds and then began stroking them both again, running her thumb around the ridge at the base of their mushroom tips. 

 

George gasped out, “Can we have you this time, love? Inside?”

 

Hermione blushed, but nodded. “I’m just not sure where…” Her eyes looked at George with a small amount of trepidation as Fred was clearly moving into position for taking her gleaming pussy. 

 

“Let’s flip you about,” George commanded gently. Fred gave him a quizzical look. “If it’s okay with you, Hermione,” George continued, “I want to feel your mouth around me while Fred fucks your pretty little cunt.” 

 

Blush intensifying, Hermione agreed enthusiastically, following his directions to get on all fours at the end of the bed with Fred behind her. George knelt at the end of the bed in front of her, first kissing her deeply as Fred lined himself up and began to push inside her. Neither of them were small, but Merlin knew if she had been with Charlie - and she obviously had - they weren’t going to be a challenge for her. 

 

Still, Fred hissed as he pushed in, “How are you so bloody tight?”

 

George broke his kiss with her once he was certain his twin was all the way in and the initial feelings floating through the bond had calmed. Then he stood, putting a hand in her hair and looking down. She was licking her perfect lips as she eyed his cock and it made heat swoop low in his stomach. 

 

When her tongue flicked out to taste the pre-cum that had already gathered, George moaned, Fred immediately following him. Hermione just whimpered, and, pushed forward by a thrust from Fred, she took George’s tip into her mouth and began twirling her tongue around it as she slowly worked her lips down further.

 

It had seemed before that having her hand around their cocks was explosive and left them both devastated. It was nothing to the way George felt now, waves of pleasure from her tight, wet holes coating both their cocks and overflowing the feelings in the bond. She was crying out around his dick, the hum of her sounds vibrating against him. 

 

By now, genuine effort was necessary to keep from exploding as she let him push into her throat, pulling back when she started to gag. George looked down at her as she caught her breath around him, her hands digging into his arse to keep him from pulling out all the way as he had before to let her breathe. His cock was wet with her spit and the way her eyes looked up at him imploringly even as she tried not to let them roll back from what Fred was doing to her, made George want to fuck her harder. 

 

“Spitroast?” Fred said, catching his eye. “I think she’s ready to take us back and forth as hard as we can go, don’t you?”

 

George grinned and nodded, looking her directly in the eyes. “You ready to take us?”

 

“Ready for me to fill you with come?” Fred added.

 

Hermione hummed her agreement, wiggling her arse in invitation and sinking her mouth a little deeper onto George’s cock as she licked along the underside as best she could.

 

“We won’t last long,” George acknowledged, the bond pulsing between them. 

 

“But it’ll be bloody worth it,” Fred grinned.

 

With a nod, they began working her over. Fred would slam his cock hard into her, shoving her face so hard against George that she would gag on him, especially when he thrust back, pushing her harder onto Fred’s cock. It was a rocking motion that had all three of them at maximum pleasure and the bond was exploding hard between them with every tiny movement.

 

“I can’t hold on,” George groaned.

 

Fred could only nod, sliding his arm around Hermione’s sweat covered body to undoubtedly play with her clit. Not that it was necessary since she would come when they did even if she was barely being stimulated at all, but George knew he wanted her to have the maximum pleasure.

 

Their orgasm crashed over them like a tidal wave, taking all three at once. They had been able to see it coming, but there was no escaping it once the motions between them were rolling hard enough.

 

Hermione screamed and then choked around him as George’s cock exploded stream after stream of thick cum. It was so much that she couldn’t swallow it and it gushed from her mouth. Fred let himself fall over her back, completely spent after yelling about how tight she was squeezing him. For a single moment, feeling his intense pleasure through the bond, George was almost jealous of how Hermione must feel on his cock. He would get his turn eventually.

 

Pulling away from her mouth, George managed to hoarsely whisper, “Scourgify” to clean up her face before crawling onto the bed and collapsing.

 

“That was so fucking intense,” Fred muttered from on top of her. Hermione hadn’t been able to hold herself up any longer, but George thought she looked perfectly comfortable lying beneath his twin. 

 

“Bloody wonderful,” Hermione gasped out, still apparently feeling twinges of orgasm as she lay there. “But I have to find a way for us to tone it down when we want to.”

 

George ran a hand carefully along her side and Hermione smiled at him, her hand clasping his. Long moments of catching their breath passed before Fred finally pulled out of her, moans all around at the sensations, and rolled to her other side. 

 

They both looked to him, seeming to expect some sort of commentary. “I’m far more than satisfied,” George said with a grin. Understatement of the bloody year.

 

Fred suddenly propped himself up on his elbows and fucked everything up. “Are you sure, Georgie?”

 

Hermione’s eyes widened slightly and she looked between them. “ How could any of us not be?” she asked with a laugh. Then, seeing Fred’s serious look and perhaps feeling the panic George was suddenly trying to contain, she zeroed in on him, “Why wouldn’t you be satisfied, George?”

 

He could see the worry in her eyes, but he had no idea how to even start. Before he could, she had another question.

 

“Is this about… about Katie?” Her tone was sad and she looked like she wanted to cry. “I ruined something, didn’t I?”

 

“Katie?” George repeated, a little dumbfounded.

 

Fred guffawed. “Well she has been running after you for years, Twin-O-Mine. I can see where our girl would get the wrong idea.”

 

“Why is it so funny?” Hermione asked seriously.

 

George squirmed. Why the hell had Fred opened his big fucking mouth? 

 

“Are you not going to talk about it?” Fred prompted.

 

“Bloody hell,” George snapped, “I don’t know why you had to talk about it.”

 

Fred rolled his eyes, then looked straight at Hermione when he said, “He’s into men.”

 

“Oh, George!” she cried, throwing herself around him in a full body hug before gasping and pulling away. “I never meant to make you do things you don’t want! I’m so sorry.”

 

“No!” George said frantically. “It’s not like that at all! What the hell, Fred?”

 

“It is like that,” Fred said flatly.

 

She couldn’t think he didn’t want her. He did. Reaching for her, he said, “Please come back. It’s really not like that. I’m bi. I like women, too.”

 

“You like men more,” Fred interjected. 

 

“Fred,” he growled. “Since you couldn’t let me decide about telling her, could you at least have enough respect to let me finish what needs to be said now that we’re talking about it?”

 

“As long as you actually do it,” Fred said, looking completely unrepentant.

 

George took a deep breath. “I like men and women. Katie was never okay with that so, though we did like each other back in sixth year, she wasn’t the girl for me. I… she never really accepted it.”

 

Hermione was stiff in his arms, but she hadn’t pulled away. “Never accepted that you like men?”

 

“That. And that I wasn’t going to be with her,” George explained.

 

“But she said at the funeral… well, I guess I just misunderstood. She said it should have been her instead of me and I thought-”

 

“What? She shouldn’t have said that to you,” Fred said, jaw clenching.

 

George felt more shock than anger. “But… they offered. Ron told me Katie was the first person when Angelina wasn’t… when it couldn’t be her. They thought one of our friends - they asked about Alicia next - would be the girl who would be willing. I don’t think they even knew that Katie and I had tried to date back in school.”

 

Fred laughed. “I’m surprised to hear it, but thank Merlin she said no! We certainly dodged an Avada on that.”

 

George could only nod his agreement. She was a great friend and quite pretty, but her clinginess and the way she had told him he couldn’t like men if he was going to be her boyfriend had shown him a lot about her. He could only hope Katie wasn’t going to be a problem moving forward with Hermione.

 

He looked down at the woman in his arms. “So see, there’s nothing you’re in the way of and I’m quite happy with the way things are.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she asked him. “That you like men, I mean.” Her voice was hurt and concerned.

 

“It didn’t matter. It still doesn’t. I’m with you. I’m attracted to you. And even if I weren’t, it would be worth it. You saved Fred, saved us both.”

 

“That doesn’t have to mean you’re unsatisfied forever,” she told him. Her body was starting to relax in his arms and her hand came up to trace along his biceps and up across his neck. George shivered. 

 

“As I think I said, I am quite satisfied,” he told her with a smile. “I always assumed I would have to pick one person eventually.”

 

“It’s not the same. We picked for you, without your input. And Fred said you prefer men,” she replied logically. 

 

He shot Fred a dirty look while he tried to figure out the right thing to say. “I’m happy with you, Hermione. I don’t need another lover to be satisfied.”

 

She was quiet for a moment and he let her process it, rubbing her back gently while she thought. “I don’t see why us being together would stop you from finding someone you enjoy more,” she finally said.

 

George blinked. Looking over her to Fred, he saw the surprise in his twin’s eyes as well. “We’re bonded, love,” George replied, knowing the confusion in his tone was mirrored in the bond.

 

“Obviously,” she snorted, “But that doesn’t have to mean you’re chained to me.”

 

Hesitantly now, Fred broke in, “It kind of does. A soul bond is serious, Hermione. It doesn’t allow infidelity.”

 

She blinked at him. “Then how is all the rest of it working?” When they both looked confused, she pushed, “With your siblings?”

 

“I don’t know,” Fred admitted. 

 

George could feel his confusion, but the explanation was simple. “They happened at the same time, with the group marriage first. That has to be why it’s okay.” 

 

Hermione nodded, but looked contemplative. “Perhaps, but I think that leaves us room to maneuver. I’m going to research it! If I can be with other people, then you should be able to as well. Ginny mentioned it once, and I think-”

 

“I don’t want anyone else,” Fred declared. “If I could make it happen, I wouldn’t have you with anyone else either.”

 

Hermione gasped softly and blushed. “I… I’m sorry it can’t be that way. But Charlie… and Bill, Percy, Ginny… Ron kind of…”

 

“I know,” Fred said with a half smile. “I’m not trying to take them away from you. I just mean that I want you.”

 

She blushed again, clearly unsure what to do with a compliment like that. Trying to change the topic, she focused back on George. “If it were possible, would you want to find others? Men or women, really. I didn’t want this to be a trap for anyone.”

 

George ran a hand along her cheek. “Hermione, love, if anyone was trapped in this, it’s you. You have no idea what an amazing gift you are, do you?”

 

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, avoiding his eyes uncomfortably.

 

Giving a bemused snort, George said, “I don’t know that I would want to find anyone since I am, truly, very happy with you. But I suppose it would be nice to have the option.”

 

Fred joked, “I’ll happily pick up your slack with the wifey if you find some handsome hunk to enjoy.” His voice turning more serious, he added, “I’ve certainly wanted a chance to take care of her long enough.”

 

“What?” Hermione asked, distracted for the moment.

 

Blushing a little, Fred began to tell her how long he had been interested. “I loved Angie, and I wouldn’t have looked elsewhere while I was with her. I won’t lie about it,” he said, sadness pouring from him before he shook himself out of it and continued for her, “But ever since the Yule Ball I’ve wondered what it would be like to be with you, Hermione. Wanted to find out for myself if it hadn’t been for Ronnikins.”

 

“Now I know you’re joking,” she said, shoving at Fred a little from her spot wrapped in George’s arms.

 

“No joke, love,” Fred and George said together. 

 

George would have been laughing if he hadn’t still been upset with Fred for outing him. Still, he confirmed for his twin, “He didn’t stop talking about you for months afterward. And I thought he was going round the bend worrying for you while you lot were on the run.”

 

Hermione’s eyes lit up, as George had been sure they would. She needed to know this wasn’t a bad situation for them. Fred had been half in love. And after the talk they had earlier, George knew Charlie was completely gone for her. Even him… George had always respected and liked Hermione. He loved her now. He wasn’t sure if it was just the magic or if her willingness to give her entire self for them had changed his emotions toward her, but the love was there.

 

“Is that really true?” Hermione was asking Fred. 

 

For once, George felt like he was intruding on an important moment as she turned to Fred and wrapped her arms around him instead. 

 

“Course it is,” Fred answered gruffly. 

 

George saw how sincere his twin’s eyes were, how happy he looked as their lips met and Hermione’s body pressed closer to him. They were well on their way to another round and George strongly felt the need to get out of the room. 

 

He tried his hardest not to let the feelings through the bond, but it was impossible to conceal when his emotions were this strong. Before Hermione, he and Fred had figured out long ago how to block one another out. Puberty would have been even more awkward for them if they hadn’t. He wasn’t sure if it was the way he had Madam Pomfrey link his and Fred’s life force, the added complication of a third bond, or the soul level of that bond, but now blocking was nearly impossible. He left the bed and began finding something to wear.

 

“Sorry, Georgie.” It was Fred who looked contrite this time. Hermione had turned toward George again, but her eyes were a bit glazed yet.

 

“No,” he breathed. “Don’t be. I’m happy for you. You know I am.” He let that emotion surge through to them and was rewarded with a smile from both of them as he finished pulling on his clothes. “I just feel like I should be somewhere else for a while.”

 

“Of course not!” Hermione insisted. “You’re part of us.”

 

“I know I am,” George stressed. “Doesn’t mean I need to be here for every moment of it.”

 

“Stay with-” Hermione began, but George shook his head. 

 

“I don’t want to right now,” he emphasized, seeing no other way around it. “I want for the two of you to spend time together without me. If the bond continues to work as usual, I’ll enjoy it just as much no matter where I am.”

 

“Merlin, no matter where?” Hermione whispered.

 

“Has no one mentioned the bondgasms to you?” Fred asked, delight lighting up his face that he would get to explain.

 

“I’ll let him explain that,” George said with a smile, leaning down to Hermione for a kiss. His heart stopped for a moment when she hesitated, but when her lips met his, it was as electric as always.

 

She grabbed hold of the front of his shirt as he started to pull back. “George, I’m going to find a way for you to be happy, too.”

 

“I am happy,” he told her.

 

“Happier.”

 

“Fine, love. I won’t say no to being even happier as long as you promise to love me through it, too,” George smiled, relief and joy surging through him when she gave him a happy smile and said, “Of course.” 

 

He didn’t care if the bond stayed exactly as it was, but it was more freeing than he had imagined now that she knew and it hadn’t changed anything between them. As he closed the door, he couldn’t help but grin at Fred’s giggling explanation of the bondgasm and Hermione’s returning squeal of embarrassment. 

 

When he heard her cry “I have to figure out how to dampen the effects of this bond!” as he was walking away, George couldn’t help but laugh.

************

 

Ginny was resting on Harry’s bed in Ron’s room. The boys were both playing Exploding Snap, despite the fact that they weren’t entirely speaking to one another, but she hadn’t been interested. She had been too worried about Hogwarts. Was Hermione going to go back? If she didn’t, how could Ginny stand to be there? 

 

Most of their interactions were still just friendly and, honestly, Ginny wasn’t sure if she wanted them to stay that way or to be more of a relationship. Was she happy or upset that Hermione wanted to spend days with her but apparently not nights? Mostly, she was just confused.

 

“Fuck,” she heard Ron whimper just before a surge of magic hit her and she cried out, moaning and pushing her hips into the air as her back arched off the bed and she came. 

 

Suddenly there was a hand over her mouth, and she heard arguing, Ron’s voice strained, as he told Harry, “Not like that, you git! Silencio!”

 

Ginny continued to shake from the bondgasm as Harry removed his hand from her mouth and settled beside her, taking her hand. It was… strange. The contact should have felt weird as it had lately, but they had been working very hard at normalizing touch between the two of them. Still, orgasming so hard should be a private moment, not meant for a friend. 

 

By the time she calmed, Ron had excused himself for a cold shower and Harry… He was just staring at her. 

 

Looking away when he realized she was coming back to herself, he said, “I wish it could be me doing that for you, Gin.”

 

She tried to speak, but had to grab his wand and mime for him before Harry remembered the spell Ron had cast on her. Laughing, he got rid of it. She was about to respond when there was a knock on the door. 

 

At their call to come in, Charlie entered. His cheeks were flushed but he otherwise showed no sign of what Ginny knew had been very intense. “Mind if I hang out for a bit?” he asked.

 

“Of course,” she said generously, “You’re always welcome here.”

 

“I’ll keep in mind the way you invite people into someone else’s room,” Charlie said with a smile. He looked too large for the little attic room, but Ginny was glad he had sought them out. 

 

Apparently, he had specifically sought her out. “Gin, will you be okay if I’m one of your professors?”

 

She hadn’t really thought about that. “I don’t know why I wouldn’t be,” she thought aloud. “And it will be awesome to have you as a Quidditch coach!”

 

He started laughing. “You sound almost as enthusiastic as McGonagall.”

 

“When did she talk to you about it?” Ginny asked. “I thought Hermione just told you.”

 

“She did,” he agreed. “I wrote a letter to the Headmistress inquiring about the position before I sat down for dinner.” He held up a piece of parchment. “This is my official offer. Her owl arrived just before the bondgasm hit. Thank Merlin an owl can’t report on what it’s seen. I would have to turn down the offer out of embarrassment.” Charlie was laughing even through the deep blush on his cheeks.

 

“That’s wonderful, Charlie!” Ginny squealed, throwing herself at him for a bear hug. “You’re taking it, right? None of us want you leaving again!”

 

“I… as long as you’re okay with it. And Hermione, though I think that’s a given as she told me about it and encouraged me to write the letter.”

 

“Mum will be thrilled, too,” Ginny pointed out. “Think how many of us she’ll have under her roof!”

 

Charlie’s face darkened for a moment, but he nodded. “She will be happy. I don’t know about living here, though.”

 

“Well, that can be worked out. I guess you could have Hagrid’s old hut?”

 

“No,” he shook his head sadly. “It was burnt to the ground. But I can use the Professor’s Quarters. Well, it’s either that, or a new hut. She’s invited me to build a new hut if I want. Might do one until I get the other ready.”

 

“This is so wonderful!” Ginny laughed happily.

 

“Congrats, mate,” Harry said, offering his hand for a shake. Charlie laughed, shaking it just enough to pull him in for a bear hug. 

 

“You don’t get to declare yourself my brother and then just shake my hand now and then,” he told the younger man.

 

Ginny leapt up, “We should go tell Hermione!”

 

“Not right now, you shouldn’t,” George said, appearing in the door. “She’s busy at the moment.”

 

“Without you?” Charlie asked, his brows scrunching together a bit in concern.

 

George raised an eyebrow. “I was in there til now and I’m sure you’re all aware that it went well. I’m giving the two of them some time for now, as best I can.”

 

Ginny noticed that his eyes didn’t quite meet theirs and the last was said a bit uncomfortably, but she didn’t press him. Instead, she turned back to Charlie. “We should go tell Mum!”

 

“With Hermione and Fred spending alone time together?” he asked. “I don’t fancy explaining to Mum what a bondgasm is, do you? I was just lucky I had gone to my room to grab a book when the last one hit.” 

 

“Merlin, I hope Hermione can find a way to loosen the bond so we don’t keep getting surprised like that,” Ron said, walking back into the room still toweling off his hair. 

 

“She will,” Harry reassured him. “Hermione can figure out anything.”

 

Ginny noticed that George’s smile raised a little more when he heard that. He must be happy to know that everyone had such faith in Hermione. She had seen him with her and knew his feelings for their wife were strong. 

 

As she enjoyed the camaraderie of Harry and her siblings, Ginny couldn’t stop pondering the questions that worried her, but Harry had unknowingly reassured her, too. Hermione would figure something out. She always did.

 

***********

 

Hermione lay in Fred’s arms, thoroughly sated. 

 

He was gazing down at her with that absolutely adoring expression that had only come out once they were alone. She had always known that Fred was ruthless in the pursuit of whatever might interest him at the moment - it was one of the reasons he and George had such success with their inventing - but she had never expected his interests to include her. When George had been with them as well, she had been half convinced they were still making up Fred’s previous interest. She believed it now.

 

“You’re amazing,” she said to Fred, the words out of her mouth without stopping to check in with her brain.

 

He looked shocked for a moment, then grinned broadly. “I am, aren’t I?” Fred’s tone was joking, but she could see how pleased he truly was. “Shame you can’t just be with me, right?”

 

Aaaand, he’d ruined it.

 

“Fred,” she began, but he held his hands up.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Or maybe I did, but I’m working on it. It’s easy to share you with George, at least.”

 

“George…” she said, trailing off as she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. She was desperately worried about the other member of their triad, but she could feel through the bond that he was happy right now, whatever he was up to. Maybe not in the same way, but he was content as well.

 

“What are we going to do about him?” Fred continued for her, but with a smirk.

 

“Yes. Well, no. I know what I’m going to do. I’m going to find a way to let everyone find the people they were meant to be with in the first place. We did what was needed, but it doesn’t have to mess up anyone’s life.”

 

Fred’s voice was tightly controlled when he said, “Is that how you feel? Like this messed up your life?”

 

Hermione felt her jaw drop. Of course that wasn’t what she meant. “Fred! No! I… It would be a lie to say this was what I expected to happen next. But I didn’t… there were no firm plans to mess up. I’ve spent the last years of my life just trying to keep Harry and Ron alive.”

 

“And yourself. I hope you were taking care of yourself as well.”

 

“I was doing what had to be done,” she answered. No, she hadn’t been the most important part of the equation, but she certainly hadn’t been trying to die, either. “And how about the two of you? You were putting yourselves in danger.”

 

“A bit, but the worst parts were what happened to the shop. And we’ll have plenty of help putting that to rights tomorrow,” he grinned. “I can’t wait for you to see our flat!”

 

Hermione smiled. How could she not? Fred’s enthusiasm was infectious as he rambled on.

 

“And we each have our own room, though I guess we’ll be rethinking that now. The living room and kitchen are open. It’s perfect for hosting parties. Ange and the girls used to come over. And Lee and his older brother Paul - George had a thing going with him for a while and Katie was sure it was just to make her jealous - would bring muggle pizza while we covered the firewhisky and-”

 

“Fred,” she interrupted. Hermione didn’t want to interrupt his happiness, but she couldn’t leave this alone. “Why did you tell me about George instead of letting him decide when to do it?”

 

“He wouldn’t have. Not for a long time at least. Maybe never,” Fred explained with a slightly irritated look. If she hadn’t seen him look at George that same way when they were discussing it earlier, she might have thought he was unhappy with her. 

 

“As much as I appreciate knowing,” she assured him, “it was his to tell or not. You can’t tell people things like that, Fred. It’s not… fair. Or right.”

 

“You needed to know,” Fred said stubbornly. “I wouldn’t tell just anyone. But you can help him.”

 

“This isn’t about you wanting me to yourself, is it?” she asked, nudging him a bit to make it more joke-like.

 

Fred barked a laugh. “No, wifey. I would still have all the others to share you with. And Georgie’s a part of us no matter what.”

 

She nodded slowly, thinking it over. “I want him to be fulfilled. But I would miss him if he were gone. I would miss any of you, even Percy or Ron, even though they’re not as connected. Everyone is a part of me now and always will be.”

 

Fred squeezed her hand and gave her a soft smile. “I wouldn’t change that when it makes you so happy.”

 

“I don’t know if it makes me happy,” she responded with some frustration. “It can feel so good, but I also feel like something is… off… when I’m not with everyone.”

 

“You need the bonds with Ron and Percy sealed,” Fred said, certainty in his tone, though there was a little disgust he was unsuccessfully hiding as well.

 

“Perhaps,” she agreed quietly, “but how will I do that?” 

 

Fred finally shook his head. “If I have another go at you, will you please stop making me think about what you need to do with those two gits?” 

 

Hermione laughed, as she knew he meant her to, and let him distract her, though deep down her mind was still working on all the issues they needed to address until he tipped her over the edge and made her forget everything but him.

Notes:

Astrangefan and I were talking earlier and the idea came out that this story is almost like a soap opera - pretty much open-ended and capable of going on forever. Basically I intend to keep writing it until I feel done and then I'll find a way to tie it up. But it's going to get very long very fast. Would you prefer it be all one giant story, or at some point should I try to cut it off and make it a series? I know stories that are too big can be intimidating to start. But making everyone subscribe to a new story is potentially annoying? Or no big deal?

How do you like the meeting and scheduling? Which upcoming events are you looking forward to?

Were you surprised about George?

Chapter 18

Notes:

Whew. They just keep getting longer! Sorry it's been more of a wait than usual. I had planned to do this chapter last weekend but then I was sick (not covid but too miserable to even use talk-to-text programs).

I'm afraid it will be a bit of a wait again as I'm spending the rest of September (WIPtember challenge in a fb group I'm in) completing a fic I haven't started posting yet. If I can churn out 20-30k in the next 10 days - and I think I can - I'll have a completed 60k-ish Hermione/Fabian/Gideon story to start posting. Done beforehand. With a predetermined plot and everything. Weird, i know. It will be my first time finishing a story before posting it. Don't worry. I can't quite imagine that I won't tinker with it after it's done. Who wants to bet I throw in a few side plots before I actually post it?

After that, I have a couple of one shots I need to write *then* I'll be back here. I'm thinking three-ish weeks unless I can't stand to be away that long.

My alpha, Lady Winterlight has been checking up on me the last couple of weeks and diligently helped me sort my mess of a chapter this morning. Astrangefan, my wonderful beta, did a speedy turnaround on this so I could get it out to you all. Thank you both!

I don't own Hermione, the Weasleys, or Harry Potter and their world.

“George!?” Fred crashed into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping, and mouth foaming with toothpaste he was trying to wash away. 

 

Even as Hermione curled more aggressively onto his chest trying to escape the sound, George couldn’t help but giggle at Fred’s irritation.

 

Seeing the look on his face, Fred obviously figured out it had been George who played the prank. “What did you put in the toothpaste, prat?”

 

“And why did you do it so bloody early in the morning?” Hermione grumbled, making George giggle more.

 

“Why isn’t Finite working?” Fred said frantically. “What kind of spell did you use?”

 

George laughed harder as he said, “I didn’t.”

 

Fred demanded, “Then what did you use?”Trrr

 

“Hot sauce,” George grinned. 

 

“What’s the commotion?” Charlie asked, appearing in the doorway. 

 

Fred was trying to beat George with a pillow without hitting Hermione and failing miserably. Their wife suddenly sat up, not even noticing that she had nothing on, and directed all the pillows in the room to hit Fred back until he was practically run out of the room, still yelling at George in between further drinks of water.

 

Charlie was laughing so hard he almost forgot to ask what was wrong again and offer his toothpaste. He shot George a conspiratorial grin on his way to get it and did a thorough once over on their wife. 

 

Snuggling back into George’s side, Hermione murmured, “Is he going to be even madder when he comes back?” 

 

“Not my toothpaste he has now,” George said innocently. “How would I know?”

 

“That’s a yes,” she groaned. “Was this really necessary first thing in the morning?”

 

George laughed and gently ran his fingers through her curls. “Yes, love. Freddie wanted us to start pranking again. Who better to start with?”

 

“But at this hour?” she insisted. 

 

Shaking his head, George informed her, “As the official wife of the infamous Weasley twins, I’m afraid you’re going to need to adjust your expectations of proper pranking times.” Then he laughed again at the disgruntled look she gave him.

 

“Come on now, love,” he cajoled, snuggling into her as he heard Fred start shouting and Charlie’s booming laughter on the floor below. “Pranking is for all hours of the day, and setting them up overnight is often easier.”

 

George noticed she was smiling into his neck when she grumbled, “I’ll keep that in mind. Now can we go back to sleep?”

 

“Not a chance,” he told her happily. George loved mornings. “It’s a busy day, remember.”

 

Hermione groaned, but nodded. 

 

“Fred wear you out that much?” he asked. George was careful to keep his voice very neutral. The night before he had wanted to leave the room, wanted them to have time together. But in the light of day, he couldn’t help but feel left out. It helped that she was snuggled up to him and Fred was out of the bed, but he knew their time was very limited. 

 

Hermione looked up at him, blinking against the sunlight in the room. She didn’t look happy to be awake, but her expression was concerned now. Damn . 

 

Before she could ask, he jumped to reassure her. “Seemed like you must have been having fun. We all appreciated the bondgasms - lots of fun, no work,” he joked.

 

“You like it more when you do the work,” she observed. George had to admit he was surprised. He hadn’t realized she was paying that much attention to him. “I pay attention to you when you let me.”

 

The bond must be wide open this morning and he hadn’t realized it. Merlin. That meant she had gotten exactly how left out he felt. 

 

“George, you don’t have to put yourself last to make anyone else happy, even Fred and I. Especially Fred and I. You mean everything to him, too, you know. I know you can feel it. He just…”

 

“Doesn’t realize when he’s being an arse?” George finished for her.

 

Hermione laughed, but nodded. George sighed. “I’ve been with him my whole life, you know. I do know how important I am to him. And I know exactly how careless he can be. He doesn’t mean it.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you just have to take it, George.” Her hand was running up his arm and making it a bit difficult to focus. “I’m sorry he told me that last night without discussing it with you first. I told him it wasn’t right.”

 

George felt himself blushing to the roots of his hair at the same time that his heart nearly burst with adoration for this amazing woman beside him. He loved his twin, and Fred certainly wouldn’t let anyone else say a negative word about him, but it wasn’t the same as having someone see him and feel their care for him on this level.

 

“What’s all this love stuff I’m feeling?” Fred asked, bursting into the room with a leering grin. His teeth looked like they were decaying before their eyes. George couldn’t help but laugh, even if he hated the ruined moment with Hermione.

 

“I think you’re feeling how much we mean to each other, prat,” Hermione said, shuddering at the cycle his teeth appeared to be going through.

 

“And me?” Fred asked, grinning widely again. 

 

“Not with that mouth,” Hermione told him. “Besides, this was about George and I. We could use a little space.”

 

“But not this morning,” George said. When Hermione looked at him in confusion, he added, “Long day, remember? When I get my time with you, I want to make an evening of it. Please?” His last word was quiet, almost begging.

 

Fred looked like he was going to protest, but then pressed his lips together before asking, “Will regular toothpaste fix this?”

 

“If you can find any,” George grinned at him. When he left the room grumbling, George said, “Those were the only two, but he doesn’t need to know that.”

 

Hermione laughed as she left the bed. “You do remember I’m at Shell Cottage tonight?” she asked, worried that he was going to want his time tonight.

 

“I remember, love,” George said, pulling her back against his chest so that he could kiss her neck from behind. “I can wait a day. I just… want to know that there will be time for us, too.”

 

Hermione turned in his arms and cupped his cheek. “I promise, George. You’re important to me and I will make sure we get that time together.”

 

They were fully snogging by the time Fred came back, “Oi. Get a room!”

 

“We’re in it!” Hermione informed him, but pulled reluctantly away from George and went about the task of getting ready for the day. Unfortunately, he was very right about how long and busy the day would be. She packed a number of books and notes into her beaded bag before heading downstairs.

 

There were delicious smells coming from the kitchen. Molly was back in her domain, and as Hermione entered, she could see this was the happiest Molly had looked since before… everything, really. 

 

“Come in and grab a plate, dear,” Molly said.

 

Hermione smiled and wished her a good morning as she got her plate and picked out more food than she would probably be able to eat. It all smelled so good. This was the first time she could remember feeling excited about eating. She sat down next to Harry, across from Ron, though the boys weren’t talking to each other. 

 

Giving them each a meaningful look, she said, “Please tell me you two aren’t going to make me take messages back and forth to each other.”

 

Harry and Ron both laughed, blushing a bit at the ridiculous memory from fourth year. “I certainly hope not,” Harry said. 

 

“Reckon it’s my place to apologize. Again,” Ron said, uncharacteristically pushing his food around on his plate instead of shoveling it directly in his mouth. “I just thought we were going to stick together, Harry. But… it’s your life and you have to do what’s right for you.”

 

Hermione had to work not to let her jaw drop. Ron never came around so quickly! Harry seemed just as stunned as she was.

 

“What?” Ron demanded. “You can all make big leaps forward and I have to stay stupid, angry old Ron forever?”

 

“No,” Harry said slowly, a smile spreading across his face and the tension dropping from his shoulders. “I think it would be okay if you grow up a bit with us.”

 

“With you? I’m leaving you in the dust. When we see Kingsley today, I’m asking him how soon I can start Auror training.”

 

“Really?” Hermione asked. She had been afraid he would just give up once Harry wasn’t going to be there.

 

“Really,” Ron confirmed. “It’s been my plan all along. I have a lot to make up for, leaving you two like I did. And… this is what I know how to do. I’m not as good at it as Harry is, but I want the training so that I will be.”

 

“I think you’re every bit as good as I’ve ever been,” Harry started.

 

Ron rolled his eyes. “No one has luck on their side like you do, mate. But I won’t need luck as much if I know what I’m doing.”

 

The boys continued to talk, but Hermione was distracted by Charlie taking a seat across the table and Percy, who had just sat down next to her. “Good morning,” he greeted. Checking to see what Molly was up to, he leaned over and kissed Hermione’s cheek.

 

She blushed and said, “Good morning to you. What are your plans today?”

 

“Just work,” he replied, “Though I do have a meeting with the most gorgeous woman in my life at 10.”

 

“10? Well, did you want me to come before or after that meeting?” Hermione asked him cheekily.

 

Percy gave her a pointed look and said, “You will not disparage yourself in front of me. And I would prefer you come while you’re there.” He said it so sincerely that Hermione blinked, then noticed the sly smile he was giving her. “I couldn’t just leave that opportunity. You’re even more lovely when you blush like that, Hermione. But I don’t actually intend for any such thing to happen yet.” 

 

There was a look of longing in his eyes as he stepped back from her, but Molly had just walked over to the table so he wasn’t able to do anything more. Hermione was too flustered by his last comment to think of a thing to say.

 

Finally she settled on, “Okay. I… I’ll be seeing you at 10 then.”

 

“Why is that, dear?” Molly asked. “I thought you would be helping at the shop all day.”

 

“We’re not complete slave drivers,” Fred said.

 

“We’re going to release her for some meetings throughout the day,” George added.

 

“But only if she brings back food, of course,” Fred completed the thought.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes at them. “I’ll be happy to bring food back to those who ask. Politely. ” 

 

Turning to Molly, she explained, “Harry, Ron, and I have a meeting with Kingsley in the afternoon. He wants our… sponsorship. So my meeting with Percy is about figuring out what we want in exchange.”

 

Molly blinked. “I can’t believe he’s asking the three of you for anything else after all you’ve done!”

 

“It’s for morale. And to keep everyone focused on rebuilding our world,” Ron explained.

 

“And to keep the ministry from falling,” Harry added grimly.

 

Molly looked worried. “Surely that couldn’t happen?”

 

“Kingsley believes it might,” Hermione told her, wishing the boys hadn’t started this conversation with Molly when she was still so volatile.

 

“Then you’ll have to be there to stop it!” Molly cried.

 

“We plan to be, but we need to be sure the ministry is held accountable, too,” Hermione said.

 

“And before our lovely wife-”

 

“Goes to see Percy-”

 

“She needs to help us a bit in the shop.”

 

“So, sorry Mum, but we’re stealing our girl!” George finished the twins’ missive.

 

Charlie stepped closer for a moment, “Wait. Did you eat enough, Hermione?”

 

She blushed, not having wanted any attention brought to her still mostly full plate. “I’ve eaten as much as I can. I had hoped to eat more. It was all delicious. But I can’t eat anything else right now.”

 

“How about you, Harry?” Charlie asked, seemingly noticing the calculating look his Mum was giving him.

 

Harry looked surprised for a moment before saying, “Yeah, and I’ve got a bit longer before I have to go meet Bill at the bank. I’m not full yet.”

 

Molly beamed around at all of them now, clearly having decided that Charlie was just looking out for them as she herself was known to do. “I’ll clean up here before I come over to help at the shop.”

 

The twins stopped in their tracks. “You’re going to help us?” Fred asked in shock. 

 

“Of course,” Molly said, “You need the whole family working together, right?”

 

“Well, yes,” George said. “But you hate the joke shop, the whole idea of it.”

 

Molly patted his cheek. “I did. But I was wrong, Freddie.”

 

He was too stunned to even correct her. After all the terrible things she had said about their inventions and opening a shop for junk no one would want and… George shook his head. “Thanks, Mum.”

 

Hermione linked her arm in his and began dragging the twins out of there before they could say something that would make Molly angry when she was in such a good mood. 

 

******

 

By the time Charlie arrived, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and the twins were hard at work on the flat, repairing holes in the wall, painting over graffiti slurs, repairing furniture, and setting things aside to be thrown out.

 

“Where’s Mum?” Charlie asked.

 

“Downstairs,” Fred offered. “I don’t think she wants to help us move out.”

 

“Good,” Charlie said with a smile, sweeping their wife off her feet for a kiss. 

 

Hermione returned it, but pushed him off after a moment. She was blushing hard as she lightly chastised him, “Charlie! We’ve got lots to get done and I have to leave soon.”

 

“And the rest of us weren’t looking for a show,” Ron added as he walked in the room. It appeared he had been fixing something in the bathroom since he was soaked through. “Shower works now,” he grumbled.

 

“Thanks, Ronnikins!” Fred said jovially. He was obviously loving having an entire crew working together here. 

 

Charlie decided to go check in the bedrooms, finding an opportunity to move out some of the heavier broken pieces and patch up some others. He was just finishing a glueing spell on some drawers when he heard an excited shout from their Mum.

 

“The paper is here!”  Oh Merlin.

 

But it was good news this time, guessing from the grins and laughter. This must be the scheme Mum, Bill, and Aunt Muriel had come up with. 

 

A Noble Rebuke

By Belinda Bagshot

 

After yesterday’s article by Rita Skeeter, condemning the Noble House of Weasley for their recent actions at the funeral of their patriarch, this reporter was lucky enough to have an interview with the new Head of House, William Weasley. Standing by were his mother, Molly Weasley, and a great aunt on his mother’s side, Muriel Prewett. 

 

I asked young Lord Weasley how he felt about the accusations leveled against their family. He had a lot to say about it.  

 

Some of the things Skeeter said were true, though even the truths were twisted for maximum shock value. Yes, our family did dance to Dad’s favorite music. We celebrated his life because we have both already and will forever mourn his death. But in the world we find ourselves living in now, it is essential that we keep moving forward. Our society needs us - all of us -  to stand up and say that we are here and we are ready to rebuild the things that were destroyed.

 

As for Fred, George, and their new wife, Hermione, they have leaned on her tremendously for support through this difficult time. As you can see in various pictures Skeeter had printed, Fred and George were often engaged in other activities during the celebration of Dad’s life, though they did sometimes pause to hug and spend time with their wife. 

 

The new Mrs. Weasley does not deserve the gross accusations Skeeter sent her way. She has sacrificed a lot for the sake of keeping Fred and George alive. Anyone who knows Hermione is well aware that she has a plan for everything and getting married to anyone at this point in life was not a part of it. Without her, the twins would no longer be with us and we would have needed a much sadder funeral for them as well. Our world would be a very dark place without Fred and George.

 

This reporter enquired what he thought about the possibility of Hermione using dark magic to get into their family.

 

That is one of the most absurd things Skeeter has ever reported - in a long list of ridiculous accusations. Even against people trying to kill her, Hermione never used dark magic. She certainly wouldn’t against our family. The only magic used for the twins was our Family Magic.

 

I asked Lord Weasley about their plans to have children and how it felt to be called out as half-breeds.

 

The Houses of Weasley and Prewett are formally offended by the bigoted words used by Rita Skeeter in regard to our family and others she has maligned in similar ways. (For a list, turn to page 4). We require nothing less than a full apology and the required cessation of Skeeter reporting on our family. As she is a beetle animagus and can easily get into places she should not be and go undetected, we would request that she is not allowed to report anywhere. As for when we will have children, that is not the public’s business even if we were certain of the answer.

 

When this reporter requested more information about the troubles they had during the handover from Head of House to Head of House, Lord Weasley had this to say before he deferred his answer to his mother, Molly Weasley.

 

Mum is struggling. She has just lost the love of her life and is having a very hard time emotionally. We are all doing our best to support her, but there are moments when it is difficult. Giving up control has never been a strong point of hers. She is accustomed to ruling the house with a firm hand. To be told that she would defer to one of her children unexpectedly has been hard for her.

 

Molly Weasley responded as well: I am ashamed of the way I behaved in certain moments. I am, as William said, accustomed to running the household and felt displaced. More importantly, I am deeply mourning the loss of my partner through all of life’s difficulties. I assure you all that I will do better in the future even though it will sometimes be a struggle.

 

Molly’s aunt, the venerable Madam Muriel Prewett wished to speak on the matter of Head of House as well, since the Prewett family is also in question here. 

 

William Weasley, while young to take on a Lordship, is most assuredly ready for the task. He may not have been taught as he should have been, but I have personally taken him under my wing to learn the intricacies of being a Lord of two houses and working with the Wizengamot. The boy is smart as a whip and has a good heart and morals, even if he looks like a muggle rock and roll star.

 

This reporter had to ask how Madam Prewett knows what a muggle rock and roll star looks like. She was not pleased with my question and refused to answer, though I would be remiss in leaving out the detail that she blushed heavily at the question.

 

All three family members were asked for commentary on whether or not there might be a proposal from Mister Harry Potter to the young Weasley daughter. The consensus was a firm denial of knowledge on that point. They did note that the girl, Ginevra, is still underage, and Mr. Potter has just been the figurehead of a very difficult war and may need time to recover before he contemplates marriage plans. We can all still keep our fingers crossed. That wasn’t a ‘No!’

As the article passed around the room, there was some laughter and much talk of how this one had gone better. Charlie found himself laughing at the bit about Aunt Muriel and rock stars, but overall he was just relieved that they had something printed that wasn’t tearing them apart.

 

Turning to Hermione, assuming she would know, he asked, “What does it mean that we are formally offended by Skeeter?”

 

“Skeeter herself will need to appear in front of the Wizengamot to give a full apology. It usually involves money or a gift to the offended - a bigger amount, the more families stand behind the Houses offended. The paper will be obligated to respond, as well, retracting what was said,” Hermione explained.

 

“Retracting what was said won’t change that people read it,” Fred said angrily. The others nodded in agreement.

 

“While that is true, it is the best we can do at this point,” Hermione grumbled. 

 

“She’ll also have to leave us alone after this, right?” Charlie asked.

 

“For a while. It won’t last forever unless she’s fired and can’t find a job anywhere else,” Hermione said with a grimace.

 

George snorted. “That’s a bit too much to ask for, isn’t it?”

 

“Probably,” Hermione sighed, her expression morphing as her eyes glinted with anger. “But at least it should give us a break for a little while. And now that it’s revealed she’s an animagus and that’s how she’s been able to get her scoops, I doubt we’ll be the only ones formally or informally offended.” She paused for a moment, then smirked. “Maybe she will be run out of town,” she finished in a tone laced with venom.

 

“Let’s get back to work before the owls start arriving to tell us off or congratulate us,” Fred said, heading Hermione off and sending everyone back to their spots. 

 

Charlie wasn’t entirely planning to cooperate, though. “Hermione, could you come take a look at something for me?” 

 

“Of course,” she said, following him down the hall and into a bedroom. She didn’t notice or guess what he was planning until he closed the door and pressed her up against it. 

 

“Char-” she squealed, but then his lips were devouring her and she didn’t have enough air to continue speaking between fierce kisses. 

 

His hands slowly worked their way up and down her body, but carefully did not touch her where the little whimpers and pants she was making clearly told him she wanted him to. They were both frenzied, wanting more of each other since it had been several days since there was time for just the two of them. 

 

“I have something to tell you,” he whispered in her ear as he kissed her neck. 

 

He knew Hermione hadn’t had time to catch her breath, but he still enjoyed how breathy her voice was when she managed, “Oh?”

 

He pulled away from her and dropped to his knees, staring up into the face of the woman he loved. He was worried, so worried about how she would react, but George was right. She deserved to know how he felt, how he had felt for some time now.

 

She looked down at him confused as he took her hands. “I love you, Hermione, so much more than the bond could ever make me. I think I’ve mentioned before that I thought about you a lot while you were on the run. It happened at Bill’s wedding. I saw you and I just… I was going to ask you to dance, but then you were gone and… You were my inspiration to keep going, especially in the dark, lonely days when it felt like everything was falling apart and there was nothing I could do to help anyone. I… words aren’t always my best thing, but I love you, and I hope someday you can love me, too.”

 

The look she was giving him made Charlie’s heart skip a beat as she dropped to her knees with him and pulled his face close to her own. “I know we didn’t know each other before, Charlie, but… I feel it, too. I don’t know if it’s the same level of love you deserve - because you should have so much love, Charlie-bear, but I love you now and it’s only going to grow.”

 

Their lips came together sweetly, hungry for each other, but taking it slow. Hermione moaned softly as she fell against him, their bodies molding tightly to one another as they delicately tasted and explored each other again.

 

“Sweet Merlin, I can’t wait to have you in Romania with me,” Charlie whispered when he pulled back from her, resting his forehead against hers.

 

Hermione whimpered, then said, “I don’t know if I can stand to wait that long.”

 

He chuckled. “It’s just a few more days, Draga.”

 

“Are you sure we can’t-”

 

Hermione’s words were cut off by the sound of Molly’s voice out in the sitting room. 

 

“Fuck,” Charlie said, backing away from her and offering his hand to help her stand.

 

“Well, I was going to say it a bit more nicely, but yes, that’s what I was thinking,” Hermione said with a wicked grin at him. 

 

Charlie started to laugh, but his lips were caught in a sudden flurry of kisses from Hermione, her body pressed against his as though she were desperate for him. She pushed away almost as suddenly, gently running a hand down his jaw and walking out the door, saying, “No problem, Charlie. I’m sure you could have gotten it up without me, but I’m always happy to help.” She winked before turning where she might be seen and heading toward the sitting room.

 

He had to sit down for a moment as he returned to his gluing project. That she seemingly enjoyed him every bit as much as he enjoyed her made him feel better. He had been aching for her. He still certainly was in some ways, but touching like that secured the connection he felt to her and he felt full.

 

**********

 

Harry was nervous. Bill didn’t look like he felt much better as they waited in an antechamber of the bank to be called in. Harry had a bundle in his arms, containing all of the items they intended to offer as penance for breaking in and stealing the dragon. It was more than enough, Bill and Fleur believed, but there was always the chance the goblins would kill him anyway. 

 

Doubtful, but possible.

 

“Mister Harry Potter, escorted by Curse Breaker William Weasley,” a goblin called from the ornate doors in front of them.

 

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Bill said, clamping a hand on his shoulder, but it didn’t really do much for Harry’s level of worry.

 

They were led down a long, golden hallway. There were goblin-made creations all along both sides on the walls, becoming more and more ornate as they went. Finally, it opened into a giant chamber with a throne at one end. Harry heard Bill take a deep breath in as they were announced to the room. The assembled goblins began murmuring to each other as King Ragnuk stared down from his throne at the two of them.

 

“Follow my lead,” Bill whispered. Harry was impressed by how confident he sounded. Perhaps there was something about the situation that made it less worrisome than it seemed.

 

Bill stepped forward and bowed, almost to the ground. Harry did the same.

 

“Greetings, my King,” Bill began. “I bring a petitioner who wishes to beg your mercy after he has wronged you.”

 

There was a long silence before King Ragnuk said, “Rise and present yourself, petitioner.” 

 

Bill and Harry both stood. Harry was grateful, as the bundle he carried was quite heavy since it not only contained the heavy pieces, but each was carefully wrapped so that they wouldn’t clink together.

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Harry said nervously. 

 

He tried very hard to remember the exact words he and Bill had worked on. “In our quest to purge the world of Lord Voldemort, my friends and I needed to retrieve an item that did not belong to us from one of your vaults. You would not have been able to give it to us if we had asked, and the Death Eater it belonged to certainly would not have handed it over. So we knew we had to steal it.”

 

Where there had previously been silence, now the goblins’ murmurs were buzzing angrily on the sidelines. Harry hoped the next few words would rile them up even more. “With the help of your subject, Griphook,”— Yes. That made them much angrier — “we broke into the vault we needed, that of Bellatrix LeStrange, and retrieved an object perverted by the darkest magic imaginable so that we could destroy it and, consequently destroy Lord Voldemort.”

 

King Ragnuk looked down at them. “What was this ‘darkest magic’ you claim we had in our vaults?”

 

Harry paused. They did not intend to ever mention it. 

 

“We are not wizards and do not use your pathetic magics. You will tell me or we will behead you now.”

 

Glancing to a very pale Bill, who nodded imperceptibly, Harry said, “It was a horcrux, Your Majesty.” 

 

There were gasps all around. King Ragnuk stood in his anger. “There was a horcrux in our vaults?”

 

Swallowing hard at the furious look on the goblin king’s face, Harry reaffirmed it. “Yes, Your Majesty. Lord Voldemort could not be killed until we destroyed his horcrux.” There wasn’t any reason to tell them that he had made more than one.

 

“How did you destroy this horcrux?” the king demanded.

 

“With a basilisk fang, Your Majesty,” Harry told him.

 

King Ragnuk looked intrigued. “Basilisks are worth a great deal. The goblin nation would be interested to know where you came across one.”

 

“Perhaps we can discuss that at another time,” Harry offered, unsure of what to say about that. The King looked momentarily put out, but then moved on.

 

“And you say Griphook helped you?” King Ragnuk asked.

 

“To a point,” Harry said. He was perfectly okay with seeing the traitorous thing get in trouble, but he didn’t want him to actually be beheaded. “He helped us get in, but took the sword we had offered him in exchange before we made it out.”

 

“Sword you say?” King Ragnuk asked with interest.

 

“It was the Sword of Gryffindor.”

 

“Was it yours to give away?” the King asked.

 

“No goblin-made item is ours,” Harry answered carefully, just as Bill had instructed.

 

King Ragnuk smiled. “You have well instructed the boy, Curse Breaker Weasley.”

 

“Thank you, my King,” he answered with another bow.

 

Turning back to Harry, King Ragnuk demanded, “If you knew this goblin-made item was not yours, why did you bargain with it?”

 

Unprepared for this question, Harry answered as best he could with the truth. “We were desperate, Your Majesty. We had to get that horcrux.”

 

The King was quiet for a long moment. The whole hall quieted waiting for his response. “We will not demand your head as this item should never have made its way into a vault in the first place. While our clients have their confidentiality, there are a few items we do not agree to safely house. Horcruxes and other soul containers are among them.”

 

Harry started to breathe a sigh of relief, but Bill shook his head.

 

“To do business with us in the future, however, Mr. Harry Potter, what will you offer our great nation as compensation for the slandering of our reputation?”

 

Kneeling, Harry rolled out the bundle and began carefully unveiling each of the eight items they had decided on. There were three swords, an ornate dagger, a crown, two necklaces, and a ring. Once unwrapped, Harry requested, “May I send the items up to you for inspection, Your Majesty?”

 

The King granted it and Harry used Wingardium Leviosa on the velvet piece they had been bundled in to get it up to him. From the gleam in his eyes, it was easy to see that King Ragnuk was impressed. 

 

“Obviously I am not giving you these items,” Harry began, but before the angry murmuring could reach a crescendo, he continued, “Because they belong to the goblin nation already. However, I hope that recovering these items for you will grant me leniency and the ability to be your client moving forward.”

 

After a few long moments, King Ragnuk spoke, “This will be sufficient repayment to the goblin nation, young Mr. Potter. However, it will not be enough to cover your two accomplices.”

 

“Of course not, Your Majesty,” Harry responded, grateful that Bill had coached him on how unlikely it would be that the goblins would accept this to cover all three of them. They had other plans for Ron and Hermione.

 

“I do hope we will have your business soon,” King Ragnuk spoke, a clear sign he was ready to be done with Harry.

 

Bill nodded at him the tiniest bit. “Yes, Your Majesty, I actually hope to claim my Lordship today.”

 

King Ragnuk grinned in a terrifying manner. “That will be most excellent, Mr. Harry Potter, soon to be Lord Potter.” He called for an escort for Harry. “Take Mr. Potter to his account manager, please. I have some things to discuss with Curse Breaker Weasley.”

 

As Harry was led away, he watched Bill go a little paler again as he bowed all the way to the floor this time.

 

The hallway they took him through now was lined only in marble, far less ornate as they moved farther away from King Ragnuk’s throne room. It was far more like a normal hallway within the bank. Before long, doors began to appear along each side of the hallway. They came to a halt eventually, in front of a door labeled Darbold.

 

Speaking for the first time, his goblin escort said, “This is your account manager, Mr. Harry Potter. May your coffers overflow.”

 

“And may your enemies be vanquished,” Harry answered. It was at this moment that he realized he hadn’t given the proper farewell to King Ragnuk. He hoped that didn’t reflect poorly on Bill, whatever he was going through. Merlin, goblins were scary.

 

He walked into the office and was greeted by Darbold. After the niceties were accomplished, Darbold asked, “What may I do for you today, Mr. Potter?”

 

“I would like to claim my Lordship, sir.”

 

The goblin looked up at him in surprise, though Harry wasn’t entirely sure why. “Of course, Mr. Potter.” Darbold stood and scuttled over to a small cabinet. When he opened it, he reached his hand deep inside, almost further back than he was tall, to grasp something apparently heavy based on the small grunt he made. He mumbled something and there was a glow from the cabinet. Harry was mystified.

 

The goblin returned to his desk, a small wooden box in his hands, though it still looked, by the way he was carrying it, as though it must be quite heavy. The only decoration on the box was a crest with a large P in the middle.

 

“I will need your hand, Mr. Potter,” Darbold told him. 

 

He offered it without comment. The goblin grinned at him as it used its fingernail to prick his finger. Harry startled, but otherwise didn’t react and the goblin looked impressed for some reason. As his blood splashed onto the crest, it began to glow. 

 

“Dab your finger on this,” the goblin instructed, pushing a piece of parchment at him. Harry did as he bid, noticing it glow for a moment before the goblin pulled the parchment away and irritably said, “Press the crest, Lord Potter.”

 

Harry pressed, and it suddenly sank into the box, the sides coming unfolded and opening up to reveal an almost desklike area of parchments, with ancient looking books lining the sides. There was what he recognized instantly as a blood quill laying to one side and, in the center, there were two rings.

 

“What… what is all this?” he asked. “Why is there a blood quill? ”

 

The goblin raised an eyebrow at him. “I am surprised you recognize that at your tender age, Lord Potter. It is a rather rare item since, outside our purposes, they are considered quite dark.”

 

Harry showed the scar on the back of his hand. He wasn’t sure, but he thought the goblin looked quite angry about it. “Had a few lines to write under Dolores Umbridge when she was a Professor. Just a bit of detention.” He wasn’t sure why he felt comfortable sharing that with a goblin, but it flowed right out of him.

 

“I see.” Darbold replied. “Well, please take up the quill, if you could, and work on reading and signing all those papers.”

 

Bill had warned him that this would be a time-consuming process. While he could just sign everything quickly and it would probably be okay as Lordship papers tended to be standard, it was best to read every single word when dealing with goblins. Harry sighed and got to work. 

 

Of course, it wasn’t just work. He was discovering all sorts of new things about being a Potter. He had no idea, for instance, that the vault he had been using for years was only money set aside for his education. There were multiple others. And he had… Harry couldn’t even total the numbers. His head was spinning. He might be as wealthy as Malfoy. 

 

And he had never known. All those years. Merlin, he was glad the Dursleys hadn’t known as they would have converted the lot into muggle pounds and blown it on expensive things for themselves, but still… he could have had so much. He could have paid for someone to take on his guardianship. He could have had so many other options. Harry was furious that this had been denied him, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

 

He signed papers - not enough to scar his hand again, but definitely enough for it to sting. Darbold offered him a cloth covered in murtlap essence after each signature, which would keep it from scarring even if he had signed it enough times to be a problem. 

 

“Now place the larger ring on your right hand, and press it against the little bookshelf.” 

 

When he did, there was a glow of magic around one of the ancient tomes. “Pull those two out and sign your name on the roster. You are agreeing to read these books about your heritage and duties. When you have completed them, they will return to their place here.”

 

He had just finished signing the roster and flipping through one of the books when Bill walked into the room. Harry was relieved to see him, though somewhat alarmed at the pallor of his skin. Whatever was wrong, he clearly wasn’t interested in talking about it at the moment. “Have we checked his blood for additional Lordships, Darbold?” Bill asked almost the moment he stepped inside.

 

“We have checked it, Curse Breaker Weasley, but not yet looked it over,” Darbold replied. “He is still finishing his first Lordship’s paperwork.”

 

“Could you give permission for me to see your parchment, Harry?” Bill asked.

 

“Of course,” he responded. 

 

After a moment, Bill said with some exasperation, “Formally, Harry.”

 

“Oh! Curse Breaker William Weasley may inspect my, Lord Potter’s, blood parchment thing.”

 

He could almost hear Bill rolling his eyes, but the goblin handed the parchment over. “Merlin,” Bill said with a low whistle.

 

“What?” Harry asked.

 

“Don’t get distracted. You’ll see soon enough,” Bill said, his voice a little awed.

 

Harry read faster, trying to squeeze out the last of his required reading. His head was swimming with information.

 

When he finally had the opportunity, Harry turned back to Bill. “What is it?”

 

“We’re not even going to have to fight for the Black Lordship. It appears Sirius named you as his Heir. But that’s not all…”  Bill handed him the parchment.

 

Harry’s eyes widened as he saw the list. “Gryffindor? Really? Like, actually descended from Godric Gryffindor? And… wait… how do I have Lordship over the Gaunts?”

 

“You conquered the last of their line. Their Lordship is yours by conquest,” Darbold explained. 

 

“And yes, you are apparently descended from the Godric Gryffindor,” Bill said, humor in his eyes.

 

“Honestly, I would have expected Slytherin before Gryffindor,” Harry admitted.

 

“Slytherin?” Bill blinked.

 

“By conquest of Voldemort, instead of the House of Gaunt,” Harry said sheepishly. “Maybe he wasn’t really the heir of Slytherin somehow. But he and I both had the parselmouth ability, so that’s another reason I would have expected Slytherin one way or another.”

 

“I had forgotten you had that ability,” Bill said thoughtfully. “Maybe it doesn’t pass straight through the Slytherin line as everyone thought.”

 

“It must not,” Harry agreed.

 

“Or Slytherin had more than one line and, while a descendent, neither you nor Tom Riddle were of the direct, inheriting, line,” Darbold suggested.

 

“Oh.” Harry blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that. Either way, I was able to get to the basilisk. I guess I would have conquest of it no matter who the heir of Slytherin is.”

 

Darbold looked up from his parchments abruptly. “You have conquest rights of a basilisk?”

 

“Yes. In the Chamber of Secrets my second year.”

 

Darbold’s beady eyes were taking him in. “Is this true Curse Breaker Weasley?”

 

“It is. He saved my sister that day,” Bill said gravely.

 

“What did you do with your prize, Lord Potter?”

 

“My prize?” Harry asked. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to have gotten as a prize. His life? Ginny’s? What else was there?

 

“The carcass,” Darbold said, clearly exasperated.

 

“Oh, well I guess it’s still down there,” Harry told him.

 

“Still down where?” 

 

Harry could see that Bill was starting to move protectively in front of Harry, as though he thought the goblin might hurt him. Harry really didn’t understand why. 

 

“It’s down in the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts,” Harry explained. He added, “You have to know parseltongue to get in.”

 

The goblin looked decidedly less pleased. “Should Lord Potter wish to sell his prize, the goblin nation would be very interested.” His tone was slightly disgusted.

 

“Great!” Harry said. “I’ll check with Professor McGonagall and see if they would be okay with me getting rid of it.”

 

“It is yours by conquest, child. No one can tell you not to take it,” Darbold said. If goblins could roll their eyes, this one would be.

 

Bill had clearly decided it was time to move the conversation forward. “Do you have the paperwork for these additional Lordships? Black, Gryffindor, and Gaunt?”

 

“Of course,” Darbold almost growled at Bill. “Let me pull them out.”

 

Harry groaned when he saw the mountain of parchment that Darbold pulled from various chests. Just his luck. He gained all these extra Houses, which would send Hermione over the moon, but what he got out of it was paperwork. 

 

**********

 

Hermione knocked on Percy’s office door at precisely 10. She had gotten there early, but she was so nervous about being in his office alone with him that she had put off knocking until the last minute. 

 

He was smiling as he opened the door, though his voice was serious. “I was wondering if you were going to leave instead of talk to me.”

 

“Wha- You knew I was out here!?” she accused. 

 

“Of course. I’m a busy person. I don’t open my door to just anyone, so I have to have a way to see who’s there.”

 

As he stepped back to let her in, Percy whispered some sort of spell that pulsed around the outer door. 

 

“Was that the spell?” Hermione asked, curious. 

 

“A version of it,” Percy replied. “This time it was more of a ‘Do Not Disturb.’ It will redirect any but the most important. The Minister could get through it, but the Head of Sports and Recreation cannot, for instance.”

 

“Has the Head of Sports and Recreation been seeking you out a lot?” Hermione asked. 

 

“More than you would think,” Percy answered. 

 

Was that a tiny bit of hurt in his tone - that old feeling of his efforts never being enough clearly in his mind? Hermione felt like she was already failing this, and she wasn’t even sure what this was supposed to be. Just time between colleagues. That’s all. 

 

Yes, he was also the most mysterious of her spouses, and this was the first time they had spent alone together… probably ever, but this was a meeting about the important things they had to go over. “I’m sorry, Percy,” Hermione started. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you’re not important enough for them to be looking for you. I meant that I don’t think they’re important enough to seek you out.”

 

Percy stared at her for a moment over his glasses, assessing her, she realized. Finally, he gave her a slow smile into that beautiful grin she liked so much. “Thank you, Hermione.” After a moment where he looked like he wasn’t sure if he was going to lean forward and kiss her or step away, he seemed to decide on the latter. 

 

Hermione tried not to be disappointed when Percy made a sweeping motion toward the desk. “Welcome to my humble office. Please, have a seat at the desk and we’ll see what you have.”

 

The office was not what Hermione would have defined as humble, considering he was displaying every certificate and award he had ever received at Hogwarts. It was also ostentatiously decorated - far more so than the Minister’s office at this point. Then again, with Percy as one of his gatekeepers, it was doubtful that the man was seeing many guests. This was probably as far as most people were ever going to get. There were just too many needs for Minister Shacklebolt to handle all at once.

 

Hermione felt very self-conscious in this setting. She hadn’t realized until now how very intimidating Percy’s status could actually be. As he settled himself on the other side of the desk and she rummaged around in her beaded bag for her notes, Hermione took this time to observe Percy. He was looking sharp today, as always. 

 

Though, since she had arrived, he had dropped his outer robes on the back of a chair, leaving him in a perfectly pressed white button-up and tie. She couldn’t help but openly stare as he unbuttoned the shirt cuffs and very precisely began to roll up his sleeves. This should not be a drool worthy event, Hermione tried to tell herself, but she had utterly forgotten what she was supposed to be finding in her bag.

 

Percy raised an eyebrow at her as he finished his task. “Weren’t you supposed to be preparing your notes for us to make this list of demands for Kingsley?”

 

Jumping, Hermione felt her cheeks flame. “Yes, of course,” she replied, ducking her head and scrambling to find her things once more.

 

Percy looked at her in confusion for a moment before that confident grin returned. “You weren’t distracted by anything, were you, my Lady?” he asked. His tone was almost innocent.

 

“Of course not,” she mumbled as she finally placed her notes on the desk between them. 

 

“I don’t like it when you lie to me,” he stated. His voice was calm, but something about the way he said it made Hermione think of a predator. She shuddered involuntarily, but she realized it was more with interest than horror. Why would she react that way? Hermione blushed again.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Hermione stopped herself. “I was embarrassed and didn’t want to admit it. I don’t know you well, Percy, especially who you are now versus that idea of the perfect Prefect from Hogwarts. Trying to… learn you… is distracting.”

 

And there was that grin again. “The same is true for me with you,” he admitted. “The important part is that we have plenty of time. Now. We only have so much time for our business. What do you have so far?”

 

Hermione appreciated this abrupt return to business. Looking over her notes, she said, “Since they have granted us the Noble Houses we requested and gone above and beyond our expectations, the next most important point is reforming muggle studies at Hogwarts and adding a Wizarding Culture class.”

 

Before she could go on, Percy said, “That’s a wonderful idea, but not properly worded for Kingsley to be able to make it happen. Ask for a committee to be named to handle these items. And a budget to be given to the committee to dispense for the salary of the teacher and materials for the classes.”

 

“But if he’s only appointing a committee, couldn’t that committee reject the idea?”

 

“Not if you determine it should be led by the House of Potter or Weasley,” he smiled slyly.

 

Hermione blinked at him before returning the smile. “That could work, though I’m not sure it will move things fast enough. Committees can take forever.”

 

“Believe me when I say that a committee can also move incredibly fast when it wants to or has the right motivation. This one will be well motivated. What’s next?”

 

“He will recognize the Muggleborn Coalition and give them five seats on the Wizengamot.”

 

“Five?” Percy asked in surprise. 

 

“Most of the Death Eaters have House seats they will have to give up, and in most cases the line is dead so the House will lose its seat automatically. There are plenty of open seats so this is the right moment to demand it,” Hermione explained. Without meaning to, she allowed the passion she had on the subject to enter her voice. 

 

“A good point,” he agreed, “Good enough that I think you’ll win that argument if you speak to Kingsley with such passion. Of course, I’m not sure I want you passionate with Kingsley. Though I suppose I wouldn’t mind watching.”

 

Hermione gaped at him as Percy blushed. 

 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t really mean to say that out loud.”

 

Staring at him, she let the words she was thinking drop from her lips as well. “Do you think about Kingsley that way often?”

 

There was the predator again as Percy grinned. “I try not to while we’re working together, though sometimes it happens. I prefer him outside of work.”

 

She stared at him. Did he mean what she thought he did? “Do you… have you had a relationship with Kingsley?” she whispered in shock.

 

Percy looked both embarrassed and worried as he said, “Not in the traditional sense. And, Hermione, I never should have let this conversation happen-”

 

“You would be in trouble if you let it slip because he’s the Minister and your position,” Hermione surmised.

 

“Well, positions certainly come into play sometimes,” he quipped before biting his lip nervously. “But no, not that exactly. I shouldn’t have said anything because it’s a breach of his privacy and… I’ve messed up things with him in a number of ways and…” Percy trailed off, seeming to realize that he was babbling a bit now.

 

Hermione felt a bit like she imagined being hit with a bludger would feel. Percy was in some sort of… arrangement with Kingsley? And fancied him maybe? So what were his intentions with her? She had thought… well, it didn’t matter what she thought. Or how the pull of the bond needed her to be with him. She would never force herself on him. For all that he willingly participated in the ritual, if his heart was elsewhere, she wouldn’t stand in the way.

 

Swallowing her feelings, Hermione gently said, “Percy, you don’t have to pretend you’re interested in me when-”

 

“No!” There was a look of almost panic in his eyes, such a Prefect-Percy look that it was almost a shock on this older, more knowledgeable Percy’s face. “It’s not like that. Hermione, I suppose we should have talked about all this, but there hasn’t been much opportunity and I… Merlin, I’m not ready for this conversation.” 

 

“We don’t have to talk about who you love if you don’t want to, Percy,” she said with her heart sinking further at his look of frustration.

 

“No. This is a huge miscommunication. I’m not in the right frame of mind to explain my… lifestyle right now. We need to focus on your offer to Kingsley. Let’s see. Tonight is Shell Cottage. The twins will undoubtedly claim your time tomorrow evening. Then Romania for two days. Then Fred and George will need you again.”

 

“Percy, if you need my time, we’ll make-”

 

“Hermione, you will not stretch yourself thin to cover my needs. We are here to take care of you. There is enough on your plate. May I request your presence six nights hence, for a dinner date, my Lady?” Percy asked formally.

 

“A date? But I thought-”

 

“You were wrong. I know you don’t hear that much, but about this, whatever you’re thinking is almost assuredly wrong. I…” His voice changed, taking on the commanding tone he had given her now and then since the ritual. “I have a book you will read. I will give it to you on your way out today.”

 

She wasn’t sure why or what this was about, but Hermione felt herself blushing and smiling in response to the way he spoke to her. “Okay,” she said shyly. With a joking tone, she added “I am yours to command.”

 

“Believe me, you will be,” he said, his voice absolutely certain in a way that made her whole body heat up. Hermione was feeling thoroughly confused and disconcerted when he changed back to all business. “I’ll add it to the calendar. Now… what is your next proposal?”

 

“If any of the Death Eater wives or lesser members are released on probation, we wish to rehabilitate them through classes of their own and through interacting with muggleborns - possibly as speakers for the Wizarding Culture classes, depending on who they are.”

 

Percy hummed in thought for a moment. “A rehabilitation program is a novel idea. It could make a huge difference. I’m a little concerned about using these people, knowledgeable though they may be, for teaching muggleborns. Who are you considering?”

 

“I’m thinking primarily of Narcissa Malfoy, but also perhaps Pansy Parkinson’s mother and others. I’m afraid I don’t know who has been incarcerated versus who is considered neutral, so I’m not sure who this might apply to, but we’re talking about the pureblood royalty, basically, and they have the information this class will need.”

 

“They do, but can they - will they - relay it in a helpful manner?” Percy asked, his expression thoughtful. “Not to mention that they could end up in Azkaban instead, especially Mrs. Malfoy.”

 

Hermione shook her head. “Harry will be testifying for Narcissa. She straight-face lied to Voldemort for Harry or he would have died for real. We will do everything we can to make sure she is only on probation.”

 

“And indebted to us,” Percy said, impressed. Hermione grinned back at him. She could be a predator, too, when need be.

 

“I suggest you change your wording so that the teaching part is specifically about Narcissa with the option to add others at your discretion.” 

 

Hermione nodded, changing a few words in her notes. “I would love to ask for more rights for werewolves and other creatures, but I suppose that will have to happen through changes in laws.”

 

“It will,” Percy agreed, “But I assure you we will get there. I’ll send my first draft of a new law with you along with that book.”

 

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. “You’ve already drafted-”

 

Staring down at the table with a shameful look, Percy said, “No matter what I may have said before, I know that Remus was an honorable man and deserved so much better than our society treated him.”

 

She couldn’t help herself. Hermione was up and around the desk before she could think about it, flinging herself on Percy in a tight hug. His first reaction was to stiffen, but then his tension melted as he pulled her not just closer in a hug, but onto his lap in the chair. 

 

Before Hermione knew what was happening, they were snogging. Strong, commanding Percy was back full force, making Hermione feel very young sitting on his lap and letting him take control. But Merlin, he felt good. Abruptly, he pulled back, nipping at her kiss-swollen lips as he gently pushed her back. 

 

“What was your next item?” he asked, his voice sounding completely unaffected. 

 

Hermione blinked. She could barely breathe, much less think about a list. Merlin, had she ever had an experience before that left her unable to think about her never-ending lists? Yes, lately she had quite a few, but it was still always a surprise when those moments occurred. 

 

“The… the next item,” she said as she walked unsteadily back to her seat around the desk, “The next item is getting everyone who was tossed straight into Azkaban back until they have had a trial. No one with a Dark Mark goes completely free - at least probation for all of them - but it is unacceptable for anyone to be in Azkaban before they’ve had a trial. It would be too easy to ‘forget’ them there, or to condemn someone who is innocent.”

 

“Like Sirius,” Percy said, chagrined. He hadn’t ever really believed the man was innocent. He knew better now, but it was another thing Hermione could tell he regretted.

 

“Yes,” she agreed.

 

Nodding, he looked contemplative for a moment. “The trouble is that there aren’t enough holding cells here at the Ministry.”

 

“For now, they should magically extend them, or place prisoners together who won’t kill each other. Malfoy and his Mum, for instance.”

 

“That’s rather more gracious than we usually keep prisoners,” Percy said, eyebrows near his hairline.

 

“Just because something has been done a certain way in the past doesn’t mean it’s the right way,” Hermione admonished.

 

“That’s true,” Percy agreed.

 

“It might make Narcissa more receptive to what she will be doing, too, if we have treated her well in the past. And Malfoy, for all that he was awful to us and… and everything. He’s also barely more than a child. If he’s headed to Azkaban, he needs this last bit of time with his Mum. If they let him go on probation, knowing we did this for him could be helpful to our cause.”

 

“I can see that, though I wouldn’t hold my breath on a Malfoy being useful for us. Anything else?” he asked, ready to move on.

 

“Animagi may not be reporters,” Hermione stated firmly.

 

Percy looked angry for a moment before sighing. “As much as I wish Kingsley could make that happen, he doesn’t have the authority. It will have to go through the Wizengamot. I don’t think it will be hard to convince anyone. Skeeter has dragged nearly everyone through the trash at some point and there has long been a desire to figure out where she gets her scoop.”

 

“Fine. One more item in this segment,” she told him. Hermione could see he was about to comment on the “this segment” bit, but she pushed on. “The families of muggleborns should be approached as soon as they show significant enough signs of magic to require Obliviators. In the future I would like to establish Primary education for the wizarding world, but until then, they should at least know what is happening and perhaps someone could work with them or… put protective magic around them to keep them from hurting themselves or anyone else?”

 

There had been some surprise in Percy’s features as she spoke, but by the end he was nodding. “I think we might want to keep the wording to just your first statement there, since you’re not sure how best to help them yet. Perhaps add a line about a representative from the Muggleborn Coalition going along on the visit?”

 

“Oh Percy, that’s perfect!” Hermione enthused. She was honestly surprised he hadn’t argued about that one.

 

Making her notations, she said, “The other segment is more about the so-called Golden Trio and Harry specifically. Whenever we are in the Ministry’s employ, they must supply us with an Auror guard.”

 

“That’s standard,” Percy said, “But it doesn’t hurt to be sure it is contractual.”

 

“When we are out in public in other capacities, they must make Aurors available to us if requested.”

 

“In any capacity?” he asked.

 

Hermione nodded. “If I am browsing at Flourish and Blotts and a crowd forms because of something the Ministry has had us speaking on, I want the assurance that they will provide what protection they can.”

 

“That’s reasonable,” Percy agreed once she had explained.

 

“For Harry… there is a list of ‘Boy Who Lived’ books that are sold as non-fiction and need to be taken out of print. People can still get them second hand, of course, but they are wildly inaccurate and the authors don’t deserve to make money off of them,” Hermione said, anger in her tone. She hated that people had seen fit to make up things about Harry’s life and pretend they were real.

 

“If they offer to sort them as fiction instead?” Percy asked.

 

“Only if they submit the books to an editing process with editors of our choosing so that it is clear to readers they are fiction and nothing is said that we wouldn’t approve.”

 

Percy blinked, then grinned. “Harsh, but I love it. Might I suggest you also demand that royalties be paid to him in such a situation?”

 

“I wasn’t aware that the wizarding world used the concept of royalties,” Hermione told him.

 

“It’s rare, but it happens. If you set it up so that those royalties go to some sort of charity, you almost guarantee that no one could complain,” Percy said, a devious grin playing across his face.

 

Hermione couldn’t help the grin she sent back to him. “Werewolf rights or magical orphans?”

 

“Probably magical orphans for this,” Percy said after a moment of thought. “Anything else?”

 

“We can refuse to promote the Ministry’s agenda if it goes against our beliefs,” she stated firmly. 

 

“I suggest we start with this as your very first point,” Percy said.

 

“No,” Hermione disagreed. “I considered that as it is the most important, but I believe it should be last as it is non-negotiable. If we lead with it and he tries to negotiate but we refuse, it may be harder to convince him to negotiate on anything else.”

 

“That is… a fair point,” Percy conceded. “Last it is. It’s a take-it-or-leave-it proposal. I see we’ve come to the end of your list.”

 

“Yes, but… I haven’t written this down, but I want to ensure that Ron’s offer to become an Auror stands even without Harry,” Hermione said quietly, shuffling her papers into order and returning them to her bag.

 

“But you don’t want Ron to know,” Percy stated, understanding instantly.

 

Hermione nodded and he smiled at her. Percy assured her, “I’ll check into it, but I think they will be holding to the offer. Ron survived months on the run, too, and stood against Voldemort. I suspect most of ‘Dumbledore’s Army,’ as you named yourselves, could walk right into a position with the Aurors.”

 

“That may be true, but I want to know for sure that Ron is able to follow his dreams if that’s still what he wants.”

 

Percy reached across the desk to hold her hand. “We’ll make certain of it.” For a long moment, they stared into one another’s eyes, then he slowly stood and walked around the desk. He took her hand once more, pulling her up and bringing his lips to brush her knuckles.

 

“I wish I could ask you to lunch today,” he told her as he picked up a book and some parchments and pressed them into her hands, “but I have another meeting between now and the audience with the infamous Golden Trio later.” Percy winked at her playfully as he escorted her to the door.

 

“Percy, I…” Hermione blushed, but pushed herself closer to him. “If… if it doesn’t interfere with your lifestyle and whatever is going on with you and… you know… May I have a kiss?”

 

The look in his eyes changed, a moment of blissful happiness and then they darkened as he pulled her close. Percy’s lips came down on hers softly. This kiss wasn’t one of control. It was shared and… well, perfect. Hermione sighed happily as his lips left hers and he pushed a curl behind her ear. As he pushed her out the door, Percy said, “Please do read those things I gave you. I will see you in the meeting later. Remember, it’s in the conference room on the third floor.”

 

Hermione walked away from his office feeling happier than she had imagined she could. He had approved of everything she had suggested in some form or another. And those kisses. She was a little worried about… 

 

Stopping, she looked down at the book. A Witch’s Guide to Dominance and Submission. Hermione’s breath caught. What? With wide eyes, she tucked the book and his legislation proposal into her beaded bag, not wanting anyone to see her with that. 

 

She could handle whatever that was later, though she realized from her sudden rush of desire, that there was a part of her that already had ideas. Shaking that aside for the moment, Hermione headed out of the Ministry. She had lunch to pick up, more work to do at the shop and flat, then the meeting to attend with her boys before Shell Cottage tonight. She would feel tired by it all, but she didn’t have time.

Chapter 19

Notes:

As promised, it's been a while. I should get the next chapter written a little more quickly based on what it is and how excited I am about it. We'll see.

Thank you to Lady Winterlight, StarGirlPotter, and Astrangefan for your assistance in making this story better!

I do not own Harry Potter.

Fred was excited when the flat was finally in order. He was less excited when they started on the shop. At least Mum had begun the cleaning. She had already thoroughly swept and dusted what she could get to, so at least that was done.

There was graffiti that would need to be scrubbed the muggle way, though. And shelves to rebuild, as they had been reduced to splinters. The till needed to be rebuilt or replaced, though he knew George would rather they didn’t have to spend the money for that. Months in hiding had not been good for business, and consequently, not good for the bottom line.

They were undoubtedly in the red. Someone would need to catch up the books, too. Thankfully those had been left intact and unharmed. Not even Death Eaters wanted to have a go at that mess, Fred laughed to himself. Thank Merlin George had some aptitude for it or they would have had to outsource the shop’s books.

“What do you think of a new coat of paint?” George asked.

Fred shook his head. “It won’t cover that graffiti. We’ll need to-”

“I meant after the graffiti,” George said with an eyeroll. “I know they wouldn’t have made that easy. I was just thinking this would be a good moment to make things brighter than we had time for when we first moved in.”

“If this place gets any brighter, it will explode from the sheer blinding look of it,” Charlie quipped.

George stuck his tongue out at their big brother. He could tell Charlie must have stolen a few moments with Hermione before she left. His energy and happiness had both buoyed and it was helping tremendously with productivity around here.

“I’m thinking lime green,” George said, pretending not to hear Charlie.

Fred grinned. “Sounds perfect to me.” He enjoyed it when their older brother shuddered dramatically.

Preparing buckets to scrub, Fred thought over what to focus on next. If the three of them worked at the graffiti while Mum continued clearing up the debris of destroyed products, they should be able to move on soon. Charlie could rebuild shelves; he was great at woodworking. Anyone else could help him while Fred and George worked on the back rooms. The storeroom had mostly been destroyed as well. And he didn’t even want to think about the state of their experiment and creation room. It was a horrific mess. And the ingredients they had lost…

Perhaps if he and George spent all day tomorrow organizing. They did have some new things to stock in the storeroom once it was cleared of all the destroyed products, having taken as much as they could with them when they went into hiding, after all. And they had hardly been idle. Of course, there might be more war-based items than usual, but perhaps they could market those to the Aurors in the future.

Fred’s head was spinning with ideas as he got to scrubbing, listening idly to George and Charlie ribbing one another beside him. He was enjoying how much closer they seemed lately - when he wasn’t feeling jealous and uneasy about it. Fred knew he hadn’t been acting as he should lately. Part of it was his desire to keep Hermione to himself, but it was more than that.

The whole family had sacrificed so much for him. Was it fair for them to be stuck like this, having to make new career plans and schedules in order to be with someone they cared about? All for him. And George, sort of, but George had only been in a position to die because of Fred.

He would get better. Control his jealousy and desire to be looked at as though he were more than just another brother, another husband.

When his thoughts - and the progress on the graffiti - were interrupted by the arrival of their wife with lunch, Fred was only too pleased. He needed a break from both.

“Ah, my lovely wife… in-law,” Charlie stumbled slightly on his words as Mum came in.

“Sister-in-law, Charlie. I know you have no respect for familial relationships, but we’re a Noble family now and you can’t go around calling your brothers’ wife yours, too.”

Fred recognized the slightly mutinous look in Charlie’s eyes, but it seemed Mum did, too.

“Whatever you're thinking with that look in your eyes, Charles Septimus, unthink it right this moment,” Mum demanded.

Charlie rolled his eyes, but grinned as he and Hermione exchanged a secret look behind Mum’s back. Yes, he had definitely had a moment with her earlier.

George gathered Hermione into his arms and kissed her thoroughly as a thank you for the food.

“How did it go with the great Bighead?” Fred asked, referencing their old nickname for Percy.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him before answering. “It was very helpful actually. He had a lot of suggestions for rephrasing and some additions I hadn’t thought of. He also sent me with drafts of some legislation to look over.”

“Something that’s been proposed?” George queried.

“No, it’s something Percy wrote up,” Hermione explained between blowing on her steaming soup.

“In his position, he can’t propose legislation,” Mum said, perplexed.

“He can’t,” Hermione agreed contemplatively, “But we can. Or we will be able to soon enough.”

“Are you saying Percy is writing legislation he wants us to take credit for?” Fred asked.

“Our Percy?” George clarified.

“Yes, our Percy,” Hermione said with a smile. Fred knew she was pleased when they claimed him instead of just teasing him mercilessly. “It’s for werewolf rights, in honor of Remus.”

“Percy wrote that?” George asked again, much more incredulous this time. Even Mum looked taken aback.

“I think he regrets so much of his behavior during the war,” Hermione explained quietly, “And he wants to make up for it. He was wrong about Remus, he knows it, and he wants to do something to atone for it.”

“Bill will be pleased,” Fred noted.

“We’ll all be pleased,” Mum corrected, beaming with pride for her prodigal son.

“That’s certainly true,” Hermione agreed. Her smile, and the emotions coming through the bond, made Fred think she had a far more pleasant time with Percy than she was letting on. Fred was still a little floored by that entire concept. Though there were clearly some things going on with Percy that the rest of them knew nothing about, their wife aside. Fred just hoped that whatever it was, it didn’t cause problems down the road.

Merlin, what had gotten into him with forward-thinking thoughts like that? That didn’t involve jokes, that is. Thinking that made Fred grin. He had never been so happy to be pranked as he had been that morning when George and Charlie had conspired against him. George was right that they needed to be careful about what pranks they did, unhappy as Fred was to admit it. But the fact that he was willing to move forward with harmless pranks warmed Fred’s heart.

Before long, lunch was over and they got back to their tasks. Or everyone else did. Hermione pulled Fred aside.

“I only have an hour or so to help and I don’t want to get these robes messy when I have to meet Kingsley soon. Is there something else I could do besides the graffiti or debris cleanup?” she asked, blushing at the realization that she seemed to want out of harder tasks.

Fred smiled and kissed her on the nose. “We can probably find you something. Come with me.”

Taking her hand, Fred led her to the back room. Before she could protest, he had slipped her into his arms and gave her a toe-curling kiss. Panting after, he laughed through her scolding.

“Yes, yes, wifey. We’re getting to the work. The storeroom has to be cleared out and assessed to see if anything is salvageable. That might be more of a task for one of us, with others clearing the debris. Hmmm. The ingredients, what’s left of them, are a mess-”

“Organizing! Could I organize the ingredients and maybe make lists of what we need and where and such?”

Fred grinned. “That’s brilliant! And perfect for you.”

He left her to her work and went back to enjoying the banter with his brothers, though it was sidetracked again by Harry’s arrival.

“You’re alive!” Fred cried, dropping his scrub brush to rush his pseudo-brother and fawn over him as though he had thought the wizarding savior might actually have been murdered by the goblin nation. George was doing the same, of course. Charlie looked like he was considering it.

Hermione came out of the back room, rolling her eyes, but smiling. “How did it go, Harry?”

“There was a lot of paperwork,” he grumbled, but he was smiling at her. Fred wondered about the slight gleam in his eyes as he looked at Hermione. Could he be feeling something that wasn’t quite as sisterly as he normally professed?

“You’ll be happy, Mione,” Harry went on. “Picked up a few more Lordships, though I don’t think they come with Wizengamot seats?” He seemed uncertain of the last bit.

“What are they?” Mum asked, perplexed.

“Well, somehow it appears I’m actually the Heir of Gryffindor. I don’t understand-” He was cut off by the mob of redheads congratulating him, Fred right in the middle of it. Harry was laughing too hard to continue.

“That could mean all kinds of things,” Hermione said thoughtfully, smiling for her best friend. “I’ll add it to my research.”

“You need to get that on your schedule,” Charlie said, raising his eyebrows significantly. “Research time.”

“I do,” Hermione agreed with a genuine grin. She was undoubtedly looking forward to it.

“Then there’s the Gaunt Lordship, though it doesn’t come with anything except a small vault full of junk, mostly molding furniture that falls apart if you look at it the wrong way.” Harry said with disgust.

“How are you the Heir to the Gaunts?” George asked.

“Right of conquest, apparently. The goblins said I should claim the basilisk, too. That it belongs to me because I killed it.”

“And a basilisk is worth so much!” Hermione enthused. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it! The potions ingredients alone would be thousands of galleons. And the hide…”

“The part you’re going to be most excited about is next,” Harry interrupted with a tease.

“What?” Hermione demanded, like a child with candy.

“We don’t have to fight for the Black Lordship at all. Malfoy was never named Heir. And somehow, Sirius had claimed it after he broke free and named me his official Heir. He sealed it with his blood, so there was no way his relatives could refuse to acknowledge it as true,” Harry said, grimly adding, “Not that there are many left to protest. But it’s another seat!”

Hermione was excited enough that she turned and kissed Fred in her excitement. George, of course, demanded one as well. Fred saw a flicker in Charlie’s eyes that he couldn’t ask for the same. He seemed to move on from it quickly enough.

“Where’s Bill?” Charlie asked.

“He stayed behind to discuss something with his account manager. I’m not sure what. And I don’t know… after the King was done talking to me, he kept Bill back for a while. I don’t know what was said, but he was very pale when he joined me with the account manager.”

Mum looked worried, but she smiled at Harry anyway. “You are very noble, dear. In so many ways. I’m more surprised there aren’t other Lordships, honestly.”

“The goblin said most of the others that could have come to me had lines of secession laid out so that they reverted to other side lines rather than go to someone not of the direct line. We think that’s what happened with Slytherin, for instance.”

“And it makes sense,” Bill said as he made his presence known. He must have come in through the floo upstairs. Fleur flung herself on him and the two began speaking quietly in rapid French. Hermione’s eyebrows raised occasionally as she was clearly trying to follow along.

Fred knew their amazing wife spoke French, but it was clear she was having trouble following it at such a quick pace. Bill looked grave and Fleur was moving between angry and worried. Hermione just looked worried.

“But Tom Riddle-” George began, not noticing the other conversation occurring in the room.

“Couldn’t have been the Heir of Slytherin,” Harry stated. “He only thought he was. For the parseltongue, he may have been a descendant, or it may just be such a rare gift and so strongly associated with Slytherin that those who have it hide it unless they are Slytherins. Right, Bill?”

That seemed to be the moment that Harry - and the rest of the room - noticed Bill and Fleur talking. In a distracted way, Bill responded, “Yes, of course.”

“You weren’t even listening,” Charlie commented. “What’s wrong?”

Mum spun to Bill at that question, putting her hands on her hips when she took in his obvious pallor, “Yes, what’s happened now?”

“Nothing new,” Bill rushed out. “The goblins are still displeased about the dragon being gone. I’ve told them that I think one of the other ‘guilty parties’ has a plan to offer for that. We need to get it together and have Hermione present it as soon as possible, though. Charlie, I think your assistance will be essential for this.”

“You know I’m happy to help if it involves keeping dragons from being harmed,” Charlie said cautiously. Fred hoped Bill had a very good plan or it would end up being a hard sell.

Glancing at their mother and then at Hermione, Bill said, “Let’s discuss it tomorrow. Right now I just want some lunch.”

Fred wondered what that was about. Unfortunately, it was obvious Mum was curious, too. And when Mum was curious, things could get dicey fast. Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

“Mum,” George said with a pleading tone, “I know you’re busy serving lunch and all, but I’m about to start on a bit of cleaning in the back room and I really need your expertise with the spells.”

Thank Merlin for distractions, even if Fred also wanted to know what that look at Hermione had been about.

Hermione herself seemed oblivious to it, busy mothering Harry into eating more before they had to go.

**************

The meeting room they were led into was nicer than most, but not over the top. Hermione liked it. This was better than being in the minister’s office where Kingsley had control. Not that he didn’t have control in a conference room at the Ministry, but it felt distinctly more neutral here, and Hermione appreciated the distinction.

She looked forward to how this was going to go even though she knew he would balk at certain parts of the contract. She also knew that the boys were highly likely to get bored, though she hoped they might surprise her. She should have brought a chess set just in case. Though Hermione supposed if she pulled it out in front of Kingsley in the middle of the Ministry, he might finally have to confiscate her beaded bag with its undetectable extension charm and that would be very upsetting. So best that she didn’t.

They would just have to pay attention. As they waited, she had to bite her tongue to keep from telling Ron to straighten his tie or Harry to stop fidgeting. They needed to look confident and in control. The problem with this neutral location was that more people had noticed them coming in and people kept staring in the open door.

Finally, Percy walked through the door, giving her a knowing grin before he snapped and a tray of tea and biscuits appeared.

“Merlin, how did you do that!?” Ron exclaimed as he dove for the biscuits. They did have his favorites this time, though he moved a couple of each sort to his plate.

“I can’t very well tell you Ministry secrets,” he said pompously, but he was grinning and it made Hermione laugh.

Perhaps that was the point since her guard was lowered when Kingsley walked in and he grinned, too. “Glad to see you all in good spirits. I see you approve of the biscuits,” he nodded at Ron who grinned with his mouth full.

“Ronald, that is disgusting,” Hermione hissed. Raising her voice and shifting it to a pitch that her parents would have called ‘Customer Service appropriate’, she said, “Good day to you, too, Minister. We are pleased to see you so that we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement, assuming we can agree.”

“I’m certain we can,” he assured hastily. Hermione could see a slight sheen of sweat on his bald head and realized his eyes were worried. He needed this - at least as badly as he had mentioned before, maybe moreso.

“You have a list, Percy tells me,” he said, a question in his words.

“We do, though I must first thank and commend you for the Noble Houses you have granted and the fact that you are filling open Wizengamot seats in this way,” Hermione told him happily.

“Well, the Nobility yes, but I didn’t really guarantee them a seat-”

“Noble Houses are granted a seat, are they not?”

“Yes, but I don’t yet know what the Wizengamot is going to decide about the Death Eater seats, so I can’t promise there are openings.”

“Harry, mark down an addendum on that list.” Hermione then dictated, “The Wizengamot will not seat Death Eaters and, if their seats are not left open, seats will be added for all new Noble Houses.”

Kingsley looked like he might be ill as Harry’s quill scratched on the paper. “Hermione, you have to understand-”

“No. I had hoped you learned in our last meeting that you are the one who has to understand,” she said with a haughty expression. “We want to help you, Kingsley, but the way the world worked before is over. We’re changing it.”

“And if people see that as a new regime rising?”

“Then we’re a new regime of peace and tolerance. Rather that than allow society to slide back to the kind of laws and views that led to Voldemort gaining control.”

She could tell by the way Harry and Ron were leaning away from her that she was looking a bit scary at the moment. Kingsley and even Percy looked alarmed as well.

“Now. We wish to make some curriculum changes at Hogwarts,” Hermione told them.

Kingsley frowned, “Curriculum changes go through the Board of-”

She spoke over him. “You will decree that everyone who grew up in the Wizarding World takes Muggle Studies. The Board of Governors will defer to a committee you are creating - led by either the House of Potter or the House of Weasley - which will decide what the exact curriculum is. Everyone who grew up in the muggle world will be taking a new Wizarding Culture class, exact curriculum, again, at the discretion of the committee. This committee will also be granted the funding to provide for new teachers’ salaries and materials they may need.”

“We don’t have the funding-”

“The House of Potter will be donating the sum of 20,000 galleons for this committee,” Harry stated, throwing out what was honestly an astronomical number compared to what Hermione had expected. She blinked at him. “We will not accept this being done halfway.”

Taken aback by how well thought-out the proposal was, or perhaps just the amount of money Harry was offering, Kingsley nodded. “It is within my power to decree that as long as the Board of Governors approves the curriculum the committee proposes.”

Hermione hummed, “Perhaps it would be best, then, if you replace some of the Death Eaters’ former positions on the Board with our allies.”

“Again, I don’t know-”

“We’ll get to that point in a moment,” Hermione assured him. “I am creating a Muggleborn Coalition. You will recognize it and grant the Coalition 5 seats to be filled at our discretion.”

“FIVE seats? What exactly does this Muggleborn Coalition do? What does it stand for?”

“For adult muggleborns, we will provide the wizarding culture classes I mentioned before. They will be the same as the ones the children at Hogwarts are given, though with adjustments for age, of course. We will also provide good literature for children entering our world, and someone will go with the Hogwarts staff member, possibly a muggleborn adult and a child so that they are able to become acclimated to the world through a peer. Eventually I hope to branch out to reach muggleborn children earlier, but this will be our beginning. We will also have elected representatives who stand up for muggleborn rights in the Wizengamot. It will help the muggleborns come together and fight for the equality they deserve to have. It will also garner them respect in the wizarding world.”

“But five seats, Hermione?” Kingsley said, looking pale.

“Look at it this way, Minister,” she replied, trying to distance herself from the fact that this was her friend Kingsley. “If the Wizengamot count remains the same, that means that 45 seats will still almost assuredly be controlled by at least half-bloods if not pure. We’re asking for only a fraction of the seats.”

“Where are those seats coming from?” he asked.

“Death Eaters, probably. Or create them. You’ll think of something,” Ron said. His tone was polite, but the look in his eyes was a little angry. He seemed to feel pretty strongly that these were not things Kingsley should be arguing about.

The man ran his hand down his face. “Fine. Five seats on the Wizengamot and we recognize the Coalition. How soon?”

“Two weeks from now,” Hermione said. Harry sat up straighter. She knew he was well aware the Coalition didn’t actually exist yet, but he stayed blessedly silent.

“Merlin,” Kingsley said. “Okay. Two weeks. Did you get that down, Percy.”

“Of course, Minister Shacklebolt,” he responded. There was something… odd about his tone, but Hermione was too focused to think about it right now.

“Well, if that’s all,” Kingsley began.

“It’s not,” Harry informed him, bowing his head to Hermione to continue.

“The next item is making sure we don’t have another Sirius. Everyone who was tossed straight into Azkaban awaiting trial must be removed. No one with a Dark Mark goes completely free - at least probation for all of them - but it is unacceptable for anyone to be in Azkaban before they’ve had a trial.”

“No,” Kingsley said simply.

“Percy has my information on how to magically extend the holding cells-”

“No, Hermione. It’s more than that. I will not take the chance that someone like Dolohov or the Lestranges might escape. I’m hoping they’re sentenced to a Kiss rather than just Azkaban, if I’m honest, because they’re such a security risk even there.”

Harry and Ron looked to Hermione. She knew they agreed. She was hard-pressed to disagree herself. “We can concede that point if you will bring back the lower level prisoners.”

“That can be arranged for anyone below maximum security. And there is an acceptable amount of space for them if we double up some of the wives,” Kingsley agreed.

Hermione felt relieved. “That leads into the next item. If any of the Death Eater wives or lesser members are released on probation, they will be rehabilitated through classes of their own and through interacting with muggleborns. We have a very specific request that the terms of Narcissa Malfoy’s probation include her assistance in teaching the Wizarding Culture classes.”

Kingsley looked flummoxed. “Narcissa Malfoy? What in Merlin’s name makes you think she could possibly get-”

“Narcissa is the only reason I’m alive,” Harry said.

“What?” Kingsley asked, then looked more and more astounded as Harry explained.

When the story ended, Kingsley took a moment to process all of it before saying, “Knowing all of that, the Wizengamot will likely need your memories as proof, Harry, but I do think it likely she will receive just probation. We can easily add that to her terms, and she would undoubtedly be the best for the role if there is someone there to monitor and ensure she is behaving.”

“The Muggleborn Coalition will provide someone to monitor her behavior and assist in the classroom.”

“Granted,” Kingsley said with a sigh. Again, he tried to move them along, but Hermione shook her head.

“There is one more item in this segment. Though the child needn’t know about their magic earlier than their Hogwarts letter, it is imperative that muggleborn parents receive a visit after the first accidental magic serious enough to require Obliviators.”

“How would that benefit wizarding society?” Kingsley asked, clearly puzzled.

“The more accidental magic a child does, the harder it can be on the parents to figure out what is going on with their child. Most muggles would never think of magic - as we want it - so they often treat the child like something is wrong with them. It will be easier for them to help their child grow up well if they understand what is happening,” Hermione explained.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Hermione. It has to go to the Wizengamot, and possibly to the International Confederation of Wizards. It’s not that I don’t see your point, just that I don’t have that kind of authority.”

“I think we can agree to work on that through the Wizengamot,” Harry said, poking Hermione’s side. “You mentioned another segment,” he said with a grimace.

“Yes, and it’s about us, our safety and sanity,” Hermione admonished him. “I understand that Aurors will be guarding us when we are on official Ministry business.”

“Of course,” Kingsley agreed.

“We would also like the contract to include our ability to call on the Aurors when we are on our personal time if needed.”

“That’s going to look like favoritism,” Kingsley started.

“You can’t favor the Boy Who Lived Twice?” Harry asked, innocently blinking up at Kingsley.

“Not to mention the other times,” Ron added snidely.

“You have a point,” Kingsley conceded with a sigh.

“We’re almost done,” Hermione assured him, noticing that the man seemed deathly tired and far older in the short time it had been since the battle. She quickly negotiated the bits about Harry and the books that had been, and undoubtedly would be, written about him.

Then came the hard one.

“Finally, we can refuse to promote the Ministry’s agenda if it goes against our beliefs,” Hermione said confidently.

Kingsley was sweating again. “I can’t really agree to that. I don’t know what we’ll be asking you-”

“This is a take-it-or-leave-it item of our contract, Kings. I’m sorry, but if the Ministry picks up something awful, we’re not doing it. We won’t be your mouthpieces for something awful,” Harry said.

“You wouldn’t ask us to do anything that goes against our principles and… stuff anyway, right?” Ron asked.

“I… right,” Kingsley slowly agreed. “Those are the terms? All of them?”

“Yes. That’s all,” Hermione agreed, the boys nodding along.

“Let me tell you about your duties, then,” Kingsley said. “First as soon as at all possible - immediately if you are willing - we need to make a statement that the Boy Who Lives supports the actions the Ministry is taking.”

“I appreciated the list you provided of those things you’ve been doing. It’s a good start, Kingsley. You’re going to be an excellent Minister,” she told him.

“Hopefully a brief one, too,” Kingsley said. “I would much prefer being the Head of the Aurors.”

He looked like he had a headache and, indeed, Percy appeared at his side with a potion and a look of concern. Thanking him, Kingsley continued with the explanation of their duties. “We will need you to appear at all events for the foreseeable future - large and small. The large ones will be required pretty much indefinitely. And some of them will require you to bring your husbands and the ladies you two might be seeing.”

“Or gentlemen,” Hermione said.

“Hey!” Harry and Ron both protested.

“I’m just saying they should be open to all possibilities,” Hermione said.

“Then why didn’t you protest for yourself!” Ron argued.

Giving him the look, she reminded, “I’m already officially married to your two brothers, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Oh, yeah. I did,” Ron said. Kingsley gave him a very odd look.

“So you bring significant others, whoever they are. And you appear. We’ll often give you some sort of scripts or talking points for you to tell people about. Do you think you can do that?”

“I think if we can take out Voldemort, we can probably handle publicity,” Harry said.

Kingsley barked a laugh. “I know which one I would rather face.”

Hermione had a feeling it wasn’t Voldy.

*********

Standing above the crowd with everyone staring at them was amazing. Well, for Ron, it was. He was aware that Harry looked pale and upset, subtly leaning toward Hermione for support. Taking the lead, Ron waved around at people, talking to those who were close enough.

“No talking to the reporters until Harry has made the statement,” Kingsley reminded him.

Ron grinned despite his desire to roll his eyes. He understood they were playing a role here. Just because he was a little immature sometimes, they all thought he was going to blow this somehow. He was looking forward to being an Auror, with or without Harry, so he wasn’t about to mess up his chance by being an idiot when it counted.

No, Ron hadn’t been planning to talk when he shouldn’t. But he had been talking and observing just enough to notice that the bug wasn’t present in the press section. Yes, this was a somewhat impromptu press conference with literally no point beyond showing the “Golden Trio’s” support for Kingsley. But it was not like Rita Skeeter to be absent at an event this big. Ron was sure someone else had noticed she wasn’t there.

“Wizards and witches!” Kingsley called out as he stepped up to the podium. It was easy to hear the press going wild with yelled questions and “Harry Potter” over and over again. “Everyone calm down, please!”

When it still didn’t help, Harry stepped forward, “Quiet, please!”

There was immediate silence. Harry looked to Kingsley, but neither of them seemed certain what to do.

“Go on, mate,” Ron whispered to Harry. It was clear he was the one the crowd wanted to hear from.

With a heavy sigh, Harry began, “Thank you for gathering to hear our Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, speak. I believe he is going to lead our world into a new age of prosperity and peace.”

Hermione stepped up next to him. “For that to happen, we must work together to ensure peace is indeed what comes forth from us, from all of us.”

This time, it was Ron who spoke up. “We all just fought a war. Whether you fought on the front lines or took shelter, we all just fought and survived a war. But while, technically, the final battle was won, we must stay vigilant if we don’t wish for this all to repeat itself.”

Gasps rang out at the implications of his statement. Kingsley suddenly looked very worried again and Ron was fairly certain even Percy was sweating at the way the crowd was angrily murmuring.

Hermione stepped up. “I can see that some of you are thinking we’re just children and we shouldn’t be telling you what you did before, or what to do now. But you all believed the war to be over and done when Harry was a baby, and yet it came back even more violently than it had been previously. While Voldemort-” Gasps rang out again at her use of his name, but she continued. “-has finally been fully vanquished, the reason he could return at all was because the wizarding world accepted the win at face value when Harry defeated Voldemort. No effort was made into fixing the systemic issues that allowed for his rise to power, and I’m happy to say that Kingsley has already started working behind the scenes to remedy this so that no dictator can come to power again.”

Hermione looked over to Harry, who nodded before taking over. “We’ve been talking very seriously with the Minister about his plans to help fix the issues that allowed Voldemort’s return to happen almost unnoticed until it was too late, and I know I speak for all three of us when I say that I am incredibly hopeful and eagerly anticipate seeing how things will change for the better. Minister Shacklebolt is a brilliant man, and I know I can trust him to keep his word. I hope I can trust all of you to place your trust in him as well, as he ushers the British Wizarding Community into a brighter age for wizardkind.”

Finishing his piece, Harry crossed over in front of Ron and walked to where Kingsley stood, holding his hand out. As Kingsley took it and shook Harry’s hand, Harry leaned in and whispered, “And I really do believe that. I trust you to lead us well. You’re a good man, Kings.”

As Kingsley bit back a tear to keep from showing too much emotion in public, a small beetle flew off from Kingsley’s back, simultaneously happy to have heard something extra but peeved that she would be unable to twist the words.

Ron almost had her in his hands, but he tripped instead, caught haphazardly by a young woman in Auror training robes. “Be careful and watch where you’re going,” she admonished.

“Susan?” he said in bewilderment. What was the quiet Hufflepuff girl doing training with the Aurors?

“Yes, Ron?” she asked with a steely look of resolve in her eyes. When he continued to just stare at her, Susan said, “I started halfway through the school year. My aunt pulled some strings before she died, allowed me to take my NEWTs earlier. I’m going to do right by the Bones name,” she declared.

“Oh… okay. Sorry,” he said, scrambling back with his hands in the air. “I was just… dammit, did you see a beetle flying away?”

“A what?” Susan was clearly thrown by the topic change.

“Rita Skeeter is a beetle animagus. I almost had her!” he explained, frustrated.

Susan glanced around, but shook her head. “I didn’t see it… her. You’re falling behind and the press is about to mob you, Ron. Get out of here.”

***************

Molly was humming as she arrived back at the Burrow. The children had needed her and she had helped for many hours. Dinner would need to be prepared, but she wanted to rest first. When George had suggested it, she scoffed of course.

As much as she didn’t want it to happen, though, the moment she was alone, the crushing weight of grief found her again. She would still make dinner. Just, right now she needed to sit down. She needed… needed something to keep her hands and her mind busy.

Her sewing basket never failed to provide comfort in moments like this and today was no exception. She could finish the gift she was creating for Bill and the family. And have her hands in the knitting at the same time. Merlin knew it was time to get started on all the Christmas jumpers already.

Settling in, Molly removed the Noble House of Weasley tapestry she had skillfully created, tracing her hand over the branches of the tree. There were the older generations, and now her children, with all their potential. Hermione’s name was nestled between the twins. And she hoped she could soon add Harry’s next to Ginny where he belonged.

The tapestry hovered in the air next to her as she began knitting. The pattern of the knit would help her focus the Family Magic that would jumpstart the tapestry’s magic. Of course, it would have been easier for her if this were a Prewett tree. She couldn’t contact the Weasley Magic as easily. But it still came for her, for the family. She watched happily as the connections began to appear between the family members of old, slowly filtering down toward the new generation as the spellwork sank in.

Avidly, she enjoyed the sight of her and Arthur joining with the golden thread of their true, deep love, and the lines to each of their children. She resolutely ignored the silver thread connecting Arthur to his brothers’ wife. Instead, she watched the children. Bill and Fleur’s names connected. Now it would be Fred, George, and Hermione between. Yes, their thread was gold. But… silver. So much silver. All seven of them, even Ginny. Her baby girl!

Molly dropped her knitting, snatched the tapestry out of the air, and stared closely at it. She must have gotten the spell wrong. Or the Weasley Magic had rejected her. Or… Her mind ran over the day. Bill’s glance at Hermione. Charlie’s happy mood after needing Hermione’s help for a bit. The mutinous look in his eyes when Molly got onto him for calling Hermione his wife...in-law, that pause! Did Hermione’s extra hugs with Ginny lately mean something more than friendship?

Rage consumed Molly for a moment. How dare Hermione Granger do this to her family?

But then she started to laugh. Her family. The bloody Weasleys and their bloody Family Magic had done this. William had done this. No. Not just her Bill. Charles, too. With all his big talk of not needing or wanting a wife, then preying on that poor girl. Those two were nearly a decade older than her. But Percy and Ron, too… They had done this, all of them but the poor twins who had lost their right to choose, as well. And then they had lied about it. All of them were lying about it, she realized, including Fred, George, and Hermione. Lying to her. To the entire world.

Tears were streaming down Molly’s face as she rolled up the tapestry and headed to her room. Let them find their own dinners. She needed Arthur’s scent to calm her. She needed him bloody here with her to deal with this very Weasley mess.

 

Notes:

The tapestry was inspired by a comment conversation with emeralgreenlove.

What do you think happened in Bill's meeting?
The shop will be ready soon. Any big plans you think they should have for the re-opening?
Did you enjoy the trio making Kingsley sweat? Poor guy.
What do you think Molly's going to do next?

Please always remember I am happy to hear your predictions or things you wish you could see. I can't promise they would happen, but if they don't go against something I already have planned, they might!

Next Chapter: Completely dedicated to Shell Cottage.

Chapter 20

Notes:

FINALLY. I am SO SORRY. I had writer's block on this chapter forever because I was a bit afraid of all the anticipation for it. But it's finally here, and next chapter is almost finished as well (might release it next week if it keeps flowing - fingers crossed). I hope this meets expectations and maybe even exceeds in some areas.

Thank you so much to my rock star alpha, Lady WinterLight and Astrangefan who is the best beta I could ask for.

I do not own Harry Potter.

Hermione stepped out of the giant old floo and immediately smelled the calming scent of the sea. Only it wasn’t as calming as it once had been, especially combined with the sand and shell decor and the scents of Shell Cottage around her. Hermione remembered rather suddenly the circumstances under which she had last been at this house.

Fleur and Bill came out of the floo just behind her, almost stumbling into her since she had moved barely a foot from the grate.

“Hermione?” Bill asked. “Hermione, what’s wrong?”

Both of them raised their wands with concern, looking around their home for signs of trouble.

“Nothing,” she said, trying to look and act normal. There were, maybe not good times here, but she had recovered well enough and they had moved on. She shoved aside the thought that there hadn’t been time or the ability to be emotionally vulnerable enough to really react when it happened. “Sorry, I just got distracted for a moment. This place is so lovely.”

“Eet eez. We are so lucky ‘e inherited eet. We deed not expect eet before we married.”

“Aunt Muriel has been quite good to me, even before I was technically the Head of House,” Bill said. “Maybe I should have realized sooner that she would be on my side if it came to that.”

“It wasn’t something you thought you had to worry about,” Hermione pointed out. No one could have predicted that Arthur would pass in the battle.

“Maybe not; I should have taken up the Prewett Head of House when Uncle Ignatious died. But Aunt Muriel seemed happy to handle it and none of it had ever seemed all that important until we needed our Legacies. I hadn’t even thought of them in years.”

“So…” Hermione began, looking between them and hoping she wasn’t overstepping. “What happened at the bank today? Please?”

She had heard just enough earlier to be very worried about it. Bill looked hesitant, but Fleur nodded.

“We should all talk about eet, Beel. She weel need to know,” the other woman insisted.

“And we will talk about it, but not yet. Please,” he begged.

“Won’t you feel better if you-” Hermione began.

“No. And neither will anyone else. That’s not what tonight is supposed to be about, so please let’s leave it for tomorrow morning?”

Hermione exchanged a look with Fleur. It was clear that neither of them wanted to let it go, but if it meant so much to Bill and they were only putting it off until morning…

“Okay,” she agreed. Fleur reluctantly nodded as well. Bill’s relieved smile lit up his face and made Hermione’s heart clench.

Nervously, Hermione asked, “So what is tonight supposed to be about?”

“You, mon chou. Us, ze three of us,” Fleur said, reaching out to lightly play with one of Hermione’s curls. “Beel, why don’t you make us some tea, please.”

He bowed to her, half seriously, half in jest, and headed to the kitchen.

“Beel eez so nervous ‘e can barely stand still. Eef you are okay with eet, we shall move conversation quickly to ‘elp ‘im get over eet,” Fleur said conspiratorially.

“I’m not sure what we’re doing that he’s so nervous about,” Hermione responded, feeling nervous herself. She knew what she was hoping for this night, but she could hardly put it into thoughts, much less actual words.

As Bill walked in with their teas, Fleur spoke again.

“We don’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable with anything we talk about or do, ‘Ermione. Eef you feel that way at any time, you must tell us, oui?”

“I can do that,” Hermione confirmed. “I’m just not sure what you expect from me.”

“Zis eez about exploring, not expecting. We ‘ave… wants. But only eef you are interested as well,” Fleur said. “I consider you, well, I would like to consider you as my wife, too. I know you ‘ave taken to Ginny but I was not sure eef another woman would interest you.”

Hermione barely breathed as she answered, “Yes, I think I would like… to explore that. I’m just not sure-”

“Eet eez okay to be unsure. Eet eez not new for me, but eet ‘as been a long time. Ze girls at Beauxbatons often explore, but I only was interested in one of my friends and she soon found another she enjoyed more.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione told her, unsure what else should be said.

“Eet was ze past and eez over now. I ‘ave a new lady een my life,” Fleur said, actually blushing slightly at the end.

Hermione was certain she was blushing, too. Bill was watching the two of them, looking like he was holding his breath.

“I… haven’t much experience, just with Ginny, but I want to learn. And… I would love for it to be with you, Fleur. I think of you… well, you used to be like an older sister. Now… I think what I feel for you now is similar to the bond. Not quite as intense, but… it’s there.”

Fleur was smiling beautifully at her. “Oui, ‘Ermione. I feel eet, too. Eet ‘as been ‘ard to wait for us to find ze time to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“There is nothing for you to be sorry about,” Bill said, joining the conversation at last. He had been watching them closely but not ready to join in until now. Hermione hadn’t even realized he wasn’t talking, she was so focused on Fleur. “You’re being pulled so many different directions and… Fleur and I have each other. I think I need you less because of it.”

“And I am more zan ‘appy to wait for good zings,” Fleur added.

“Plus our bond to you isn’t the same level as the twins,” Bill pointed out.

“It doesn't make you any less important,” Hermione insisted.

“But it does. And zat eez okay. You do not ‘ave to make us equal when we are not,” Fleur told her, a hand on her arm.

“How is this supposed to work then?” Hermione asked nervously. “We just won’t see each other as much?”

“While technically none of us would have to spend time with you if we didn’t wish it - Dad was fine without it in his Weasley marriage - I feel the urge to be near you all the time.”

“Oui, I do as well,” Fleur added.

Hermione shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense for Fleur to feel that. And I wish we knew more about how the rituals were different when Arthur did it versus our version. We had to add in the Prewett family changes, too, so we know things weren’t the same. But for him to have so much freedom, theirs couldn’t have been the standard ritual in the legacies either.”

“I wonder if they changed things because of Dad and his brother Archie being underage at the time,” Bill mused.

“That would be plausible. And when we were making ours, we were trying to tighten and secure the bonding enough to hold the Prewett magic and save the twins. Flexibility and freedom weren’t our main focus,” Hermione noted.

“I’ve been thinking about this quite a lot,” Bill began.

Fleur sighed, “and talking through eet constantly.”

“And I think that something about the way we did the ritual may be holding us far closer than we should have been. It’s making us need you in ways we shouldn’t, making you need us in ways you shouldn’t. Reading the Legacies, I don’t think the wife is supposed to feel unbalanced without bonding to each of us,” Bill explained.

“I would hope the previous Weasley wife didn’t feel like this all the time because she wasn’t bonded to your father. That would be awful,” Hermione said with feeling.

“Ze deestance problem eez odd as well,” Fleur told her. “I am worried ‘ow ze twins weel do with you away tonight and especially when you are in Romania. You will be both far away and gone for a long period of time.”

Hermione bit her lip. “Do you think they will have trouble?”

“I don’t know,” Bill answered. “But it is a definite concern. I’ll be monitoring them. Charlie knows if I send a patronus for the two of you, it will be an emergency like his own.”

“Wasn’t that because we weren’t bonded?” Hermione asked. “And maybe because he was in such distress?”

“Presumably, but we can’t actually be sure of anything,” Bill told her. “Creating a magical ritual like that is unusual magic in the modern world. Even I haven’t had actual training in it. Perhaps if Dad had known more, he would have passed the knowledge down to me. But he didn’t. Honestly, Aunt Muriel has been more of a help in understanding things like that.”

“Truly?” Hermione asked, surprised.

“Truly,” he agreed. “She explained how binding the Prewett magic can be because it deals with twins and their core is shared. But also… the Prewett family legacy focuses on bonds like that. Even among non-twins, Prewetts tend to have soulmates and bind to people. It’s apparently another reason it was so easy for me to bind Harry into the family. I guess it shouldn’t have worked that way without his express consent, with full understanding.”

“Because you’re half Prewett as well,” Hermione said, understanding.

“Exactly,” Bill agreed.

“Do you think that’s why the bond between you and I extends to Fleur as well?” she asked.

Bill and Fleur exchanged a look. “I hadn’t thought of it, but yes, that could be it!” Bill agreed excitedly.

“And I zink zees eez a wonderful time to remember we are supposed to be talking about us rather than going on about ze magical theory of eet all,” Fleur suggested gently.

“But-” Bill looked so crestfallen at the thought of stopping, but the look Fleur gave him brooked no argument; they were both so intense that Hermione found herself laughing.

“The two of you are so perfect together,” she gasped. “Are you sure I won’t be ruining anything being with you?”

“I assure you, mon chou, you weel only make things better,” Fleur said, her gorgeous eyes darkening as she watched Hermione.

Hermione felt herself blushing at the intense stare. Fleur leaned forward and sweetly set her lips to Hermione’s. They were soft and Hermione found herself leaning in more, her hand reaching for Fleur’s.

The older girl threaded her fingers through Hermione’s, and squeezed. Fleur opened her mouth just enough to nibble along Hermione’s lips, massaging them softly with her own and tugging at them sweetly.

Hermione let out a sigh as she gave over control, opening her mouth just enough to let Fleur deepen the kiss. She was overwhelmed by how magical it felt to be this close to her, the way their lips fit together with none of the burn from a man’s stubble. As they kissed, Fleur guided Hermione’s hands to her breasts, showing her how she wanted to be touched.

It was a relief to have Fleur guide her, let her know what to do. As they began touching one another more freely, Fleur leaned against Hermione, slowly laying her down on the sofa. For one glorious moment, it felt amazing to have the woman pressing half on top of her, but then Hermione opened her eyes and looked up.

Somehow, her focus slid from the woman in front of her to the surrounding room, a familiar sight. This was the sofa Ron had laid her down on when they arrived from Malfoy Manor. She was in just that place when, as she looked around the room, feeling more and more frantic, her eyes caught the scar on her arm.

Hermione had gone from feeling sexy and hot for Fleur, to hyperventilating in a matter of moments. Her hand stopped rolling Fleur’s nipples to touch the scar, rip at it as she had tried to that night. She wasn’t making a sound, but inside she was screaming. Fleur was intuitive. Somehow she almost sensed the problem before Hermione even knew it was happening.

“Ze memories!” Fleur said suddenly as she pulled her mouth away from Hermione’s. “We deed not think!” She looked to Bill in distress.

Moving around Hermione, he faced her and pulled her tightly against his chest, despite her protests. Bellatrix would hand her over to Greyback any moment and she couldn’t get away. Or cut her with the knife again. Hermione struggled against the arms around her, but to no avail.

“Breathe with me, Hermione,” a deep voice coached. “Listen to my heartbeat.”

Her head was pulled tightly against the chest holding her and she realized, in addition to the calming beat of a heart, she recognized the scent. She couldn’t place it through her panic-fogged mind, but she knew that scent meant safety.

As she came back to herself, Hermione realized it was Bill holding her, and Fleur looked worried next to him. Embarrassment crept over her, making her skin flush. “I’m so sorry,” she rushed to apologize. “The last time I was laying on that couch…” she trailed off, breath catching again.

Bill gave her a squeeze. “We should have thought about it, love,” he stated. “Maybe we can build good memories here eventually, but you aren’t ready yet.”

Scooping her up as he and Fleur exchanged a series of looks that were obviously a conversation, Bill took her out the back door. To her surprise, he didn’t stop there. As they passed through the shell shaped garden beds, they stepped out onto the beach of a little cove Hermione was certain wasn’t at Shell Cottage. But there had been no feeling of apparition.

Bill set her feet down on the sand, waiting while she caught her balance. He gave her a moment to look around, take in the wild beach around her.

“This was one of my Aunt’s favorite beaches in the area, so her husband created a faster method of travel through the garden gate.” Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that they were no longer at the cottage or the beach she remembered there, though she had surmised as much from the look of it.

“Eet eez one of my favorite beaches as well,” Fleur said from behind them, looking around at the cove spreading before them. She was carrying a picnic basket, blanket, and a bottle of wine. “Ze swimming ‘ere eez perfect, but first eet eez time for dinner!”

“Already?” Hermione asked. That would explain her exhaustion and the gnawing feeling in her belly.

“Oui. Eet took some time to ‘elp you out of your dark place. We understand what eet can be like to fall apart like zat. ‘Ere ‘ave some cheese and fruit while I get out ze chicken. Beel, can you pour ze wine, please?”

“Of course,” he answered with a grin. He made sure they each had a very generous portion of the wine they had brought. Hermione didn’t know a lot about wines, but she knew enough about Fleur and Bill to know it would be a good one.

“I am sorry we deed not think of ze ‘ouse being a place zat might make you uncomfortable,” Fleur told her as she loaded her own plate.

“You were here long enough, and didn’t seem all that affected after the first night, that I forgot you were likely just suppressing everything,” Bil explained.

“But being back at Shell Cottage set off my panic attack,” Hermione followed logically. Nodding, she felt less ridiculous now that she understood. “I’m still sorry to have freaked out like that when you were… being so lovely, Fleur. I just looked up and I could remember the last time I was laying on that sofa and—” Her voice was getting high and breathy when Bill cut her off.

“Were you interested in hearing about my ideas about the werewolves?” he prompted.

It was a jarring transition, but perhaps that was exactly what Hermione had needed. Glancing Fleur’s way to see if she was offended by the idea of discussing this rather than ‘us,’ Hermione was relieved to see her smiling encouragingly at their husband.

Swirling his wine, Bill said, “It’s going to be hard for me to have enough time with everything else going on, but I am in contact with an old friend of Remus’, Thadeus. He is also both a wizard and a werewolf, though he has spent more time with the packs than Remus ever did. He has indicated, however, that if he had a job, he would move to the wizarding world.”

“Do you have an idea for getting him a job?” Hermione asked excitedly.

“Ultimately I hope we will start a foundation and be able to offer him one. But for now, I believe I could get him a position at the bank if I present it properly.”

“Just be careful. I have to admit the goblins worry me now with whatever trouble you’re having.” She was fishing. And based on the way Bill raised his eyebrows, he was well aware of it. But then his eyes looked so sad and worried that Hermione didn’t want to know either.

“Tell me about this foundation,” Hermione blurted, hoping it would take that look away from him.

For a moment, Bill hesitated, but Fleur encouraged him, “Tell ‘er about eet! She ‘elped come up with ze idea, remember?”

“That’s true,” Bill agreed, his smile returning. “With what you told me about Remus needing someone to take his place and be a liaison between werewolf and wizards and help all the new hybrids like myself, I’ve been hoping to pursue it.” Pulling a notebook from inside his jacket, Bill flipped open to a page with the drawing of a building.

As they continued their dinner, Bill spoke animatedly about his plans and the ways he hoped to reach out to the werewolf community, both full wolves and ones like himself, now and in the future. Hermione found she couldn’t stop beaming at him, loving how much this idea clearly meant to him. Fleur mirrored her. This was the most excitement Hermione could remember seeing from Bill in some time, his natural happiness had been drowning under everything that had happened.

It seemed like he was starting to wind up when Fleur magically gathered all the food back into the picnic basket. “We can talk more about zis as eet develops. Right now I think eet eez time to swim before full dark,” she suggested.

Surprised, Hermione realized the sun was indeed setting. “I didn’t realize it was so late!” she exclaimed, making both Bill and Fleur laugh. “And, oh no, I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“We don’t use them,” Fleur said, stripping swiftly out of her clothes and running for the water. Hermione’s breath was taken at the sight of her lithe body.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Bill said, his happy smile still lingering, along with a smitten look across the rest of his face.

For one fleeting moment, Hermione felt guilty again, like she was intruding. But then she focused on Fleur, and felt a smile take over her own face. Really, who was she to complain? “She certainly is,” Hermione agreed.

“If you want a suit — or for us to wear something — we can Accio something from the cottage,” he offered.

“No,” she said. “I can manage.”

Before she lost her nerve, Hermione whipped the dress she was wearing over her head and shimmied out of her knickers. She didn’t miss the appreciative look in Bill’s eyes, but didn’t give it time to make her blush. Instead, Hermione took off for the water.

Calling over her shoulder, she said, “You’re slow, Bill.”

She wasn’t surprised to find him gaining on her within a few moments, but Hermione was splashing into the sea now. She squealed when his strong arms snatched her up from behind, spinning her around, but then landing both of them in the crash of gentle waves as his momentum carried them forward.

When they came out from under the water, Fleur was laughing at them. “You called ‘im slow, deedn’t you? Eet eez true but ‘e eez always so offended.”

She started running even as she said it and while Bill swam after her far too fast for Hermione to keep up, she still found herself following them loosely around in the growing dusk. It was somehow exquisitely exciting to watch them, and Merlin the water felt good on her own body. Hermione never would have thought of swimming as such an erotic activity, but she felt herself responding to her environment as well as her two playmates. She couldn’t think of them as anything else at the moment.

Suddenly, she was pushed from her thoughts by Fleur’s delicate touch on her back and a cry of “‘E’s coming for us!” and then they were running.

Fleur grabbed her hand, laughing as they splashed along with Bill close behind them. Hermione tried to focus on running, but knowing that Fleur was next to her made it impossible to focus.

Bill had her again in no time, but instead of picking her up, this time he herded the two of them to the edge of the water and pulled Hermione down. He was hovering atop her in a way that made Hermione’s entire body clench, feeling a tightening in her belly at the sight of him above her, now in the moonlight.

Fleur, still playing, jumped on his back to pull him off, but it only served to press Bill's body on top of Hermione, letting her feel how very happy he was to be pressed between them.

When Hermione gasped breathily, Fleur’s laughter changed to a sound Hermione had never heard before but it made her feel hot all over, needy. Hermione whimpered, her body arching up toward Bill, making him gasp as well.

Bill glanced over his shoulder at the woman on his back. “Control your beast, love,” he told her. The strange sound stopped, but the heat Hermione felt did not go away. She pressed her wet core up, grinding against Bill as a wave crashed over the lower half of their bodies.

There was a whisper and Hermione felt a strange shift in the sand below her. “What was that?” she asked.

“It’s a spell for situations like this one,” Bill explained. “A variation of the impervious charm that keeps sand and salt and things out of uncomfortable places.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Hermione said, nervous at the acknowledgement of where they were headed, but so on fire that she wasn’t about to back off.

“We ‘ave enjoyed this beach many times. We deed not think of eet either at first,” Fleur confided as she slid to Bill’s side and began toying with one of Hermione’s water-sodden curls.

“Are you ready to enjoy the beach again?” Hermione asked, shocking herself with the words.

Bill and Fleur both grinned at her. “Thought you’d never ask, little love,” Bill said.

“I ‘ave wanted to bring you ‘ere since your last stay at ze cottage. Beel eez catching on to ze idea,” Fleur said, nudging him with her shoulder.

The loving look Bill sent Fleur for once didn’t make Hermione feel guilty at all, just pleased that they were both interested in more, but did Fleur mean—

“Oui, I ‘ave wanted you for longer, ‘Ermione. I think I felt like you were meant to be ours, even before. I—”

Hermione cut her off by capturing the older girl’s lips with her own, pulling her close as Bill watched. e was not satisfied to sit back and watch for long, though. As the kiss deepened with Fleur, he began to kiss along Hermione’s exposed shoulder to her neck. His hands expertly trailed along Fleur’s breasts, tweaking her nipples in a way she must adore based on the noises Hermione was swallowing.

Letting her hands wander, Hermione worked on Fleur’s other breast, allowing Bill to guide her hand and silently teach her how their wife liked it. Once Hermione seemed to be drawing those sounds of pleasure from Fleur, Bill’s hands found Hermione’s breasts instead, deftly experimenting with the way she liked to be touched. It was deeply sexy the way he pursued learning to pleasure her. Hermione could just imagine the care he had taken to learn Fleur’s body, once upon a time. Bill’s mouth followed down Hermione’s chest, licking the salt water from her skin and kissing up to her pebbled nipples.

Fleur’s hands delicately sought Hermione’s lower body, running up and down her thigh, teasingly closer to her center each time. She let Bill take over pillaging Hermione’s mouth as she moved down to concentrate on her task. Hermione could barely concentrate on kissing as Fleur gently parted her folds and slid a finger inside Hermione’s soaking core. For the first time since her body had heated up, Hermione felt some relief, as though Fleur’s touch was exactly what she needed.

Bill seemed to notice her distraction, laughing against her lips. “Do you feel it, too? The heat that her magic brings up?”

“Yes,” Hermione whimpered, shivering against Fleur’s cooling touch. “What is it?”

“It’s her claim on you as a mate. My body needs her, too, after she makes that sound.” It was all the explanation she was going to get as Bill suddenly moaned and dove for Hermione’s mouth when Fleur wrapped her other hand around his cock and began to stroke.

Hermione moaned back when Fleur slid another finger inside and used her thumb to rub Hermione’s clit. It felt amazing in ways she had never anticipated. Something about it being Fleur who touched her made the experience electrifying, the heat somehow swirling with her cooling touch as though they were made to go together.

“You weel sit on my face, ‘Ermione, while Beel fucks me. I want to taste zis sweet pussy.”

The words made Hermione feel marvelously dirty. She moved as Fleur indicated, noticing that Bill was enthusiastically kissing his way up Fleur’s body as she did. The two of them helped her get into position facing down Fleur’s body so that Bill could kiss and touch her as he buried his cock inside Fleur.

Never in her wildest dreams had Hermione imagined a scenario like this happening, much less to herself. She suddenly felt the wild urge to buck her hips even though Fleur’s face was buried between her legs. For a moment, Hermione held back, mortified at what Fleur would think of her, how uncomfortable that would be for the other girl, but then Fleur moaned against Hermione’s dripping cunt and she lost it. Hermione was riding Fleur’s face with abandon, crying out as Bill shouted both their names and Fleur moaned against her.

Bill’s lips were on hers, kissing her ravenously as he approached his release. Hermione felt completely overwhelmed by the sensations Fleur was causing to her body. Suddenly, it was too much and she was screaming into Bill’s mouth as he groaned and she felt the ripple effect of him coming and Fleur convulsing from her own orgasm as well.

Hermione flopped to the side, noticing that the tide had gone out somewhat, leaving them on dry sand. She was never more thankful for that spell Bill had cast. She did not want sand in certain places.

The three of them lay in the sand together, staring up at the moon. It wasn’t quite full, but would be in a few days. Hermione loved the way her husband and wife looked in the moonlight. She felt incredibly cuddly and loving now, wanting to curl into Fleur and sleep. And Bill, couldn’t forget Bill.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she felt strong arms scoop her up and snuggle her close. Fleur was near them as Bill carried her through the archway back to Shell Cottage, but she was too tired to care where they were. She didn’t feel like there was space left inside her to panic anyway. Everything was taken up by Fleur. And Bill.

************

Bill came awake slowly, too warm and sated to want out of bed yet. But there were sweet giggles coming from nearby and then his wife moaned. That sound brought him fully awake, in more ways than one, though how he could want another moment of bliss so soon, Bill had no idea. His body was almost sore from the force of last night’s coupling.

But the sight of Hermione with her head buried between Fleur’s thighs, experimentally tasting and licking her, was more than he could withstand. Because Fleur was giving encouraging instructions — “Oui, right zere darling! Perfect! Oh… do just that over my clit… YES!”

Fleur’s eyes met his and wandered down his long form, smirking at the sight of his hand lightly stroking his hard cock. “Why don’t you join us, Beel?” she gasped, “I am sure you could find a warmer spot for zat.”

Grinning enthusiastically, Bill moved down the bed. He loved it when Hermione looked up long enough to enjoy the view of him as much as he was enjoying her.

When he had made his way to the end, Bill moved off the bed; their positions would be perfect for driving into her from a standing position. Teasing her, he kissed down Hermione’s back while sliding a finger up her slick inner thigh.

Both girls turned to watch him as he sucked her gathered juices from his finger.

“Do you like ‘er taste?” Fleur asked. “She eez delicious, oui?”

“Oui,” Bill agreed. This time he ran his fingers right along her slit, making Hermione wriggle with frustration that he wasn’t doing more.

“You can touch me, you know,” Hermione told him impatiently.

“Believe me, I will when I’m ready, when I’m sure you’re ready,” he returned.

“I could not be more ready,” Hermione assured him.

Bill grinned at her, knowing by the look in her eye that he looked more predator than not when he did. “If you’re sure…”

He lined himself up as they watched, but then paused. To Fleur he said, “My apologies.” And to Hermione, “Weren’t you supposed to be caring for Fleur? I promise I can manage this without an audience.”

“I just—” Hermione was cut off when Fleur took her head in both hands and pushed Hermione’s face into her pussy.

Bill laughed as he whispered the contraceptive charm and finally plunged his cock straight into Hermione, burying himself to the hilt. While she was right that her body had plenty of lubrication, he knew from her sounds and from the resistance he met, that she would have benefited from some additional preparation. He was surprised to hear her surprised yelp quickly turn to a moan of pleasure. That was interesting.

He stood there, letting her body adjust and enjoying the warm feeling of her surrounding him, the pulse of her body joined to his. This was perfection, especially as his eyes met Fleur’s and they both came to a silent agreement. Hermione wasn’t getting out of this without as many orgasms as she could stand.

Once he was sure her body had adequately accommodated him, Bill slowly drew his cock out, loving the way her body squeezed around him as though she didn’t want him to go. When he pushed back in, it was like being welcomed home.

Establishing a quick rhythm, he enjoyed her muffled moans as Hermione continued to eat out Fleur. Bill reached an arm around her and under, so that he was able to manipulate her clit, pressing her little button and sending her so quickly into ecstasy that she howled for him as Bill continued to drive into her.

Fleur followed her, keening and crying out Hermione’s name as she, too, came. Bill watched, never breaking his steady pace, as Fleur somewhat recovered and moved, coming down Hermione’s side to kiss her and sweetly toy with her beautiful breasts. Hermione’s hands, too, moved with far more confidence, becoming more familiar with Fleur’s body.

Bill almost laughed at the way Fleur shoved his fingers aside, taking over the staccato beat on Hermione’s clit. He hadn’t let her fully back down from the orgasm and it seemed Fleur was even less likely to allow that. He transferred his own hands to Fleur’s beautiful cunt, now presented to him as well, though he kept steadily pumping into Hermione.

It took almost no time before he had Fleur singing for him, crying out his name as she came again, Hermione close beside her as Fleur’s pace on her clit increased. Bill was surprised he had managed to hold back thus far, but he was rapidly losing his control. Increasing his speed, he jackhammered into Hermione as he realized Fleur must be focusing on the other girl as well, both of them working to throw her over the edge one more time before…

He was certain his knees were going to give out as Bill’s world exploded in pleasure. He could vaguely hear both girls crying out as well — Hermione’s hands had found Fleur at some point as well — as he slumped down over Hermione’s back.

Fleur pulled him into a languid kiss as he lay there, trying to remember his own name and who these perfect creatures with him might be. Bill couldn’t remember the last time he had felt bliss like this, even though he logically knew it had been just last night. But this was without Fleur’s magic in play, and it was rarely this intense without it.

Bond magic at play, that was the answer.

His mind began to reawaken as he felt Hermione shifting under him. Fleur must have wriggled her fingers, still apparently under Hermione’s clit, because she whimpered and begged, “Please no more right now. I’m so sore.”

“Oh, mon chou, zere are spells to ‘elp zat, but I weel leave you alone for now,” Fleur laughed breathlessly. She was as winded as they were, and that was rare.

Bill moved to Hermione’s other side, so that she was between them once more. It was how they had slept last night, each of them cherishing the opportunity to touch her. He was under no delusion that they would be the most important in her life, but he appreciated that they had a place.

“Would you like me to make breakfast?” Hermione asked.

“Don’t you dare!” Fleur cried, clearly affronted. “You are our guest! We must take care of you! Beel and I weel make breakfast. You weel keep us company.”

“I’m really perfectly capable,” Hermione started.

“I think our lady said no,” Bill told her in a no nonsense manner. He had no desire to fight his wife on this, either of them.

“Our lady. And I know I called her wife last night, but is she?” Hermione asked, the question seemingly aimed at him as they all got up and began slowly dressing.

“I am honored to be your wife, ‘Ermione. Whether wizarding magic sees me as that or not, my Veela magic sees you as one of my mates,” Fleur said.

Hermione blinked. He suspected Veela magic might be something she didn’t know a lot about. “It’s not what people think,” Bill soothed, seeing her look of worry. “You’re not entrapped for life, or even in the moment if you truly don’t want it.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, puzzled. Her eyes followed Fleur as she made her way into the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about her,” Bill suggested. “She knows this conversation would be more difficult for her to have. You can snuggle her in a bit and it will let her know you still accept her. Assuming you do. You felt the heat last night, after she made her Veela mating call?”

“Was that what it was? I didn’t know how to describe the sound. It was so—”

Bill rushed to cut her off before she could do it. “Don’t make the sound! Or anything resembling it. You’ll call her. She may not look it, or be particularly acting like it, but Fleur is tired this morning. Her magic is tired. What we did this morning has helped recharge her somewhat but… she is too human to expend that much Veela magic often.”

“I can’t say that I know all that much about Veela magic,” Hermione admitted. The look in her eyes said she would be rectifying that as soon as possible.

Taking her arm, Bill guided Hermione out to the kitchen, sitting her down on a stool at the island before moving to the stove to help Fleur. It broke his heart that she looked so nervous, but he knew it was going to be okay when Hermione immediately dropped off her stool and moved to hug Fleur.

“I don’t understand yet what we did last night,” Hermione began, then blushed, “Well, the Veela specific part of it, but I’ll learn. I’m glad I can be a mate for you.”

Fleur clung to her for a long moment. When she pulled back from the hug, there were unshed tears in her eyes. “Thank you, mon chou. You are ze perfect witch for me, for us. Eet eez okay zat you do not yet understand.”

“Most wizards and witches don’t,” Bill agreed, launching into a bit of a lecture as he toasted their bread. “The French know a bit more, since so many live there, but it’s quite rare for a British wizard to have had enough association with a Veela to know more than wild rumors. Not everyone can hear a Veela’s mating call. If you do, you are one of the people who would be an ideal mate for her. But you are not alone, and you don’t have to answer the call. The heat will not be so intense if you are uninterested. In that case, I hear, it’s more of an internal pull, like an attraction instead of a heat. Basically, your body responds according to the kind of mating it would likely be.”

“The kind of mating?” Hermione asked.

“Some mates are sexual, but others are more intellectual or sisterly or… basically this is how Veela establish family units. Because they are almost solely female, they find other ways to connect to best have a solid family to protect their offspring. That you are a sexual mate as well as sisterly is somewhat rare.”

“And eet eez much appreciated,” Fleur said, nuzzling into Hermione’s wild hair. “Now go seet!” she scolded with a swat to Hermione’s bottom.

Bill laughed as Hermione squealed playfully and swatted back before taking her spot on the stool. He couldn’t remember feeling this happy since before the war. Even though he and Fleur had tried to stay positive and have as many good moments as they could manage, it had been hard. Somehow, Hermione was the breath of fresh air they had needed.

A dark shadow must have crossed his face as Hermione suddenly looked worried. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Why did she have to be so observant?

“Nothing new,” he sighed. “I was just thinking what a nice respite this is from all the darkness and strife we’ve faced in the last few years.”

Hermione smiled. “It is. It gives me hope about our future.”

Fleur had been nodding, but then the dark shadow crossed her face and Bill felt a terror in the pit of his stomach, knowing the conversation they needed to have.

Indeed, Hermione noticed, too. “There’s something more,” she declared. “This is about the goblins and their demand, isn’t it?” she asked.

Nervously, Bill looked to Fleur and she nodded. “Eet eez time to discuss eet, Beel, but after breakfast.”

************

Bill looked conflicted, but finally nodded. Hermione felt a sense of foreboding but refrained from saying anything further, just nodded her assent. She was hungry for once, desperately so, and didn’t really want it ruined.

So she asked Bill, “What do you intend to do to make contact with the wolves until you can get a shelter for them up and running?”

And the conversation was off. Fleur smiled indulgently at both of them as they ate and talked. When Bill mentioned how much he needed to start writing this all down, Hermione gushed, “Let me!” and began rummaging through her beaded bag.

She started pulling out books as she searched for the muggle notebook she always used for her lists. It was nearly full, but thankfully, Hermione thought she had figured out a way to add pages and archive the items she had already crossed off. She should add that to her research list as she needed to research it, as well.

Hermione was paying no attention to the books she was pulling free until Fleur picked one up.

“A Witch’s Guide to Dominance and Submission” she read aloud. “Eez zis an interest of yours, little one?”

Hermione looked up, blushing. “I…” somehow she found herself reluctant to share that this came from Percy. “It was given to me. I thought I would read it and find out.”

“Sensible. “So you ‘ave not read any of eet?” Fleur asked.

“I skimmed a little,” Hermione admitted with a blush.

“Enough to know you’re interested?” Bill asked, his voice husky once more.

“Enough to be sure I want to learn more,” Hermione said tentatively as she tucked the book away. She was nervous to admit how desperately she had wanted to read it, if only she had a spare moment. “The two of you know all about this?”

Bill blushed, to her surprise. “We know some.”

“Enough zat we would enjoy discussing eet eef you wish, when you are done reading,” Fleur enthused.

“So you… the two of you take on these roles?” Hermione asked with interest.

“I like to dominate, of course,” she said eagerly. “Beel takes a lot of eet, but ‘e eez not always in ze mood for eet, so we switch. We take turns being what ze other needs.”

“The two of you work so well together in every way I know of. I feel like I am going to mess everything up in your relationship,” Hermione fretted.

“You couldn’t,” Bill assured her. “We’re strong together, I promise. And we both want this, want the family her Veela called and the family we made with the others, our Weasley brotherhood bond. Besides… remember how last night went? And this morning?”

Hermione still managed to blush at the memories, despite everything. “I could hardly forget.”

“Now imagine zat with some of ze things in zis book added,” Fleur said with a slightly evil smile.

It sent a delightful shiver up Hermione’s spine and she found herself wishing for that already. She needed to find time to read. And to research so many things. And she had no idea how she would do any of it around anyone else’s needs.

“What’s wrong, little love?” Bill asked her.

The sudden wash of melancholy must have been obvious on her face. Hermione had never been good at hiding her emotions. “I was just thinking about all the things I have to do before I’ll actually have time to read.”

Bill laughed heartily. Fleur didn’t quite join him, but she was smiling. “Zat eez the most ‘Ermione Granger thing I ‘ave ever ‘eard you say,” she teased.

“I miss her,” Hermione said wistfully.

“Hermione Granger?” Bill asked in surprise, pushing away his empty plate. “Did I miss something? You aren’t her any more?”

“Well, I’m Hermione Weasley now. And, although both of us have had a lot of responsibilities, in some ways hers were more straightforward.”

“Responsibilities,” Bill repeated, that dark shadow crossing his face again. He ran a hand down his face. “So many things…” he trailed off.

“Like what, Bill? I want to help,” Hermione immediately offered, not even realizing how ironic it was in light of her previous lament about the responsibilities she now faced.

He shook his head. “There’s too much, love. And… I’m afraid it’s time.” He looked to Fleur with a grimace and she nodded, whisking everything back to the kitchen with a simple wave.

Hermione bit her lip, not wanting to interrupt their silent conversation or whatever thoughts Bill was turning over so unhappily. She wished she could help, but… listening was what she needed to do right now.

Bill took a deep breath and waved his left hand over the right. Two rings appeared. One had the likeness of a weasel on it, standing upright with a sword. The other was a large P in a glowing yellow.

“Your House rings,” Hermione said, a little awed at the deep magic she felt from them.

Bill agreed, “Yes, they’re what I had requested an audience about, but with my manager. I hadn’t expected to speak with the King about it. He had a… requirement. Since Fleur and I basically belong to them, the goblins demanded a ‘small token’ in return for several things. First of all, they provided the House rings and everything from the Prewett estates that I didn’t have access to before. The more weighty parts are that they would forgive you and Ron. And release myself from serving.” His tone had gotten more bitter as he spoke.

“You but not Fleur?” Hermione asked, surprised.

Bill smirked, giving Fleur a fond look. “She’s more valuable than me.”

“But they would grant you, Ron, and I freedom as well as hand over what is already yours anyway. What is this token?” Hermione asked.

What could be so awful to put off the very words this way? There was silence for several long moments. Finally, Hermione couldn’t take it any longer.

“What did the King want? What does he consider a token?”

Bill swallowed hard, his skin going paler by the moment. It was honestly frightening Hermione. “You have to understand, this isn’t just a demand of the King himself. The Goblin Nation has declared this as the price.”

“If it’s something so terrible, why did you take the rings? Surely the vaults don’t mean that much, and we could negotiate some other price for you and I and Ron.”

“Eet ‘as to do with ze process of requesting the audience from our superiors,” she said the last word with bitterness. “Eet eez like we ‘ave asked zem a favor by requesting, so we are at zeir mercy once ze request ‘as begun. ‘E would ‘ave been obligated to their ‘request’ already so ‘e might as well get what ‘e came for,” Fleur explained for him. Bill looked like he couldn’t handle the words at the moment.

“That’s not right!” Hermione said angrily.

“Ze situation eez extreme. But so was what our family deed een ze eyes of ze Goblin Nation. Zey were made fools of. Zeir bank zat can not be broken into ‘as been compromised.”

“We are lucky to be alive. And the three of you are even luckier. The goblins could track you down if they wanted. It’s largely your celebrity status that has kept them at bay.”

“Or that they gain so much by claiming they would do that,” Hermione stated, her mind was swirling with possibilities. “They let Harry go. I just have to figure out something for Ron and I to give them, and then some way to fix this.”

“Hermione,” Bill started, but cut off when she looked at him angrily.

“I’m tired of avoiding whatever this is. Someone tell me what it is the goblins want from you?”

Bill closed his eyes and shook his head. “King Ragnuk demanded our first child,” he finally admitted.

“What!? How dare he even ask that! What would he even want with a wizarding child?” Hermione fumed. “Just because he has the two of you-”

“Hermione, he didn’t mean Fleur and I. He meant the first child you and I have. He… I hadn’t thought of it, but he pointed out… in rituals like we did, there is usually a fertility component as well. I don’t know how you’re feeling, and I don’t know for sure, but the goblins believe you are pregnant with my child.”

“What?” Hermione reeled back, stunned. “Oh Merlin…” She began adding things together. They had never used any kind of contraception. She hadn’t with any of them, but of course that first time, with the ritual magic… The goblins were right. But…

“Eet eez okay, ma chou. We weel be ‘ere,” Fleur said, though Hermione could hear a tiny tremble in her voice. She was still too deeply shocked to process anything else.

“No,” Hermione said, “I can’t be. I haven’t had a period in months, not since we went on the run.”

“The ritual-”

“I know!” she burst out. “I know the ritual would have fertility magic. I just… I don’t think the timing could be right. I’m not pregnant. I would know by now, wouldn’t I? It’s been enough time, hasn’t it? There would be some signs?”

Fleur shook her head. “Not everyone ‘as ze signs ze same way. Eef you are, you could ‘ave signs by now, but zay are not a given.”

“Bill,” Hermione said, feeling her bottom lip quivering as she kept fighting to deny what she felt suddenly must be inevitable. “I don’t… it’s not that I don’t want to have children with you, but… I’m only 18. I’m not ready for children with anyone. Merlin… how do we know it’s yours? It could be Fred, George, or Charlie’s just as easily.”

He seemed taken aback for a moment, then shook his head. “It could, but because of the ritual, it’s more likely mine than theirs.”

Hermione felt tears trickling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be pregnant. I don’t want… Fleur, oh Merlin, how do you feel about this?”

“I weel ‘elp you, little love. You are my family, my soeur de coeur. Your baby weel be ours,” Fleur answered.

“If! If I have a baby, it will be all of ours. But we don’t know that I’m pregnant,” Hermione stated, feeling almost hysterical.

“Zat eez easily fixed, eef you want to know,” Fleur said gently.

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. She liked to be prepared, but no. This was not something she wanted to know. But it was because she didn’t want it to be true. She did not want to be pregnant, not by anyone. Still—

“I can’t stand not knowing. What would we have to do?” she asked.

“Eet eez a simple spell. Once eet eez cast, there weel be gold around your abdomen eef you are pregnant. Eef not, eet weel be green, blue, or red depending on where you are in your cycle. Zis spell can be used to monitor fertility and your moon cycle as well,” Fleur explained.

Looking at Bill, Hermione asked, “Do you want to know?”

“Not if the answer is yes — not knowing that we will have to give up any such child to the Goblin Hall.” Bill looked sick at the thought.

“Did they specify that it be yours and mine? Not yours with Fleur or mine with the twins or Charlie or whoever?”

“Yes. They specifically want the baby created from the ritual. They’re quite certain it exists.”

The three of them looked at one another nervously. Fleur threw her hands up and grabbed her wand. “Revelio Exolvuntur.”

Magic swirled through the room and Hermione felt it around and through her body. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see. But when Fleur made a strangled gasping noise, Hermione’s eyes flew open. Around her abdomen was a dull yellow color. It definitely wasn’t gold — or any of the other colors Fleur had indicated it would be.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

Fleur’s eyes were worried. “I know not. We weel ‘ave to take you to ze Healers to know.”

“Should we do that… now?” Hermione asked, feeling sick with nervousness and worry.

“I can’t. I have to go to Gringotts today,” Bill said, looking upset. “And I can’t go to the Burrow tonight until I’ve figured out what to tell Mum. I can’t keep putting it off.”

“We can’t,” Hermione said, grateful for a problem to focus on that was not the possibility of a baby. “I agree that we should tell her tonight, even if we just have to say it outright.”

Bill nodded, though he looked even more sickened now. Fleur slid her arms around him comfortingly, running a soothing hand through his silky red hair.

“I weel take ‘Ermione to St. Mungo’s. Eef zere eez a baby, perhaps zat news weel distract your Mum enough to calm ‘er about ze rest,” Fleur suggested.

Clearly, she believed in the baby, too. Hermione felt herself shaking like a leaf. “Can we bring Ginny with us, too?” she asked.

“Of course, soeur de coeur, anyone you would like,” Fleur agreed.

“I think just Ginny. We could— we could make a girl’s day of it,” Hermione suggested.

Bill snorted but tried to hide it, leaving Hermione glaring at him.

“I’ve been on girl’s days before!” she declared.

“Of course you ‘ave, but we ‘ave to see what you’re allowed to do first,” Fleur said, as though Hermione was planning to drink her way through a fun day with the two of them.

“Fine,” Hermione agreed. “The Burrow for Ginny, then St. Mungo’s.”

 

Notes:

I cannot WAIT to hear your theories of how this will go!!! Tell me all about it.

Chapter 21

Notes:

I just couldn't wait to write and share this chapter. The next one is in progress already, too. I'm pretty sick today and hoping it's nothing major, but trying to crawl along with my writing. I cannot freaking WAIT to hear your reactions to this chapter. Come brighten my sick day with your thoughts and with theories about what happens next.

EDITED TO ADD: I can’t believe I forgot to say this! The Muggleborn Coalition will require a number of members, almost solely made up. (There are only 14 muggleborns mentioned in the entire series, even including the Hogwarts Mystery game and some random person from centuries before on a tapestry!) SO I thought it would be fun if you want to submit a name (your name, a pen name, a made up name, whatever), I’ll make them a muggleborn I mention. If you want to tell me more about them - how old they are, what they do for a living, what they’re like - I’ll find a way to use the character more.

Also, if anything pregnancy-related is a trigger for you, please skip the segment in St Mungo’s. And maybe even tea time at Shell Cottage. I will sum it up for you in the end notes.

Thank you to LadyWinterLight and Astrangefan for their work on this always.

I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 21

“Ginny!” Hermione yelled as she came out of the floo. “Are you here?”

Molly came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. She did not race forward with her bone-crushing hug as normal and it made Hermione instantly nervous and on edge.

“Good morning, Molly,” Hermione said as she heard the floo behind her spit out Fleur. “Is Ginny here today?”

“Yes, but lying about in bed, I’m sure,” Molly said.

Surprised, Hermione asked, “You didn’t make her get up?”

“I can’t make any of you do anything,” the older woman said, her voice sounding angry, bitter, and tired. Hermione remembered then that dinner had happened at Shell Cottage last night because Molly had been missing the night before, retired before cooking for anyone. They were all fine with it, of course, but it was rather out of character.

Hermione made a mental note to find more time for Molly or encourage some of the boys to spend more time with her. Something. Someone needed to help her as she grieved. Ron, perhaps. He was better at dealing with her sometimes. Or Percy. He seemed busy on his own, too, of course, but he also was good at getting through to Molly.

“I weel stay down ‘ere with Molly while you get Ginny,” Fleur whispered behind her. Hermione felt relieved and was glad all over again that she had Fleur with her, and in her life at all. She couldn’t even pause to think about how glorious the night had been, even with her own traumatic reaction to the house itself.

“I’m just going to go fetch Ginny,” Hermione said quickly, rushing already toward the stairs. She heard Molly make some comment to Fleur but was glad she couldn’t hear it. The tone told her all she needed to know.

“Ginny!” she cried, pounding on the younger girl’s door before inviting herself inside.

As she knew she would be, Ginny was sprawled across her bed, one leg hanging over the edge, the other somehow bent up like a frog on the other side. She was sleeping on her belly and one arm was above her head while the other was under her. Ginny was drooling. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. Ginny was hilarious even in her sleep. She would always bring the fun.

Hermione shook her friend and wife. “Ginny, come on. Get up. I need you!”

“Wha’ for?” Ginny mumbled

“I just do. I can’t tell you til we get there,” Hermione said, not wanting the words anywhere in the Burrow until it was confirmed one way or another.

“Where?” Ginny grumbled.

“St. Mungo’s?”

Ginny’s eyes blinked rapidly open. “You okay?”

“Maybe,” Hermione hedged. She really didn’t want to explain right this second. She was too distracted by the fact that she just realized Ginny wasn’t wearing anything to bed. It seemed Ginny had noticed her gaze, because she grinned at Hermione.

“Fine, I’ll get up — after you get in here and kiss me awake.” With a devilish grin, Ginny closed her eyes and pretended to sleep again. Hermione rolled her eyes fondly but walked forward. She cast a freshening charm on her way — snogging someone who was drooling wasn’t her idea of a good time — then crawled onto the bed, shoving Ginny’s leg as she went.

Rolling Ginny onto her side, Hermione started out by tickling her. It became an instant war, leaving Hermione pinned beneath her. “I don’t think that’s what I asked for.” Ginny said.

“No, but it woke you up.”

“Cheater,” Ginny said, then her mouth dropped onto Hermione’s and she got what she wanted anyway, taking it knowing full well that Hermione was happy to give despite her playfulness. Their tongues dueled, Hermione not giving in to Ginny’s morning aggressiveness, but it was still a fun kiss, almost competitive.

Hermione said as much when they broke apart. “I feel like I just did aerobic kissing, or a competitive tongue dueling.”

“Oooo. I like the second one,” Ginny said. “Let’s do it more often.”

Hermione laughed, but then sobered, remembering what she was doing there. “What I need to do really doesn’t require me to be there at any certain time, but Ginny, I’m worried and I need to know as soon as possible.

“You aren’t going to tell me until I’m up, are you?” Ginny complained.

Hermione shook her head. “I’m not going to tell you until we’re out of the Burrow. I don’t want the walls telling your Mum or something until we know for sure.”

Ginny gave her a tight hug, which she needed, but Hermione hated how pathetic she must look for Ginny to have reacted with such sympathy so early in her morning. It took several long minutes for Ginny to drag herself out of the bed and get dressed. Hermione enjoyed the view as she watched.

Ginny’s body was very different from Fleur’s in some ways. Her breasts were larger and there were all those beautiful freckles. “Like what you see?” Ginny asked.

“Very much,” Hermione agreed, letting her eyes roam even more obviously.

She was surprised when Ginny actually blushed. “Had a good night, didn’t you?” the younger girl asked. “You’re covered in bruises, did you know?”

Hermione blushed. What had Molly thought?

“Don’t worry. I doubt Mum saw in the dimmer light downstairs. And it’s mostly glamours I can tell are there, not the bruises themselves. Your lips, though. Damn, you look well-kissed.”

“Well, I have been. By you as well as others!” Hermione reminded.

Ginny grinned back, thoroughly unrepentant as she headed for the door. “Do we have time for breakfast?”

“Let’s stop at that little cafe in Diagon if it’s open. I don’t want to spend any more time here than I have to. Your mum’s being… odd.”

“It is pretty strange that she didn’t make me get up this morning. Unlike her really.”

“Plus not fixing dinner last night.” Hermione reminded.

Nodding, Ginny said decisively, “Yeah, let’s get out of here. Besides, you need to tell me what’s going on somewhere between here and St. Mungo’s.”

“Merlin,” Hermione whimpered. “A muggle cafe then.”

“That bad?” Ginny asked.

“That serious,” Hermione hedged. “I’m not sure about bad, but not exactly good.”

Ginny made a growling noise. “You’re driving me mad. Let’s go.”

Rushing down the stairs, they found Molly just where they had left her, looking irritated, but quiet. Fleur had her arms crossed but was otherwise trying to look pleasant. “Zere you are,” she said to Hermione and Ginny, relief clear in her features. “Your Mum and I were just discussing her recipe for shepherd’s pie.”

“You should all have some breakfast,” Molly invited, but she didn’t seem to care much either way.

“We’re ‘aving our girls day with a morning start,” Fleur told her patiently, the tone saying this wasn’t the first time she had said it.

Hermione nodded. “There’s this little cafe we absolutely have to go to in Muggle London! I’ll take good care of Ginny, I promise. Won’t let her use the tableware as a hairbrush or anything.”

Ginny gave her a bizarre look, “Why would I—”

“Nevermind,” Hermione said nervously, giggling, “It’s a Muggle joke. Maybe I’ll show you the movie sometime. I just meant I wouldn’t let you act inappropriately while we’re there.”

“Fine,” Molly said with a bitter resignation. She didn’t actually seem upset, though, and Hermione realized that the uneasy feeling of the Burrow might have to do with the lack of food scents. Molly was up, but she didn’t seem to be cooking anything.

Hurriedly, they got out of there before she changed her mind. Flooring into the Leaky Cauldron, the three of them hastily made their way out through the Muggle London door and set a quick pace. Hermione glanced behind them several times, feeling a paranoid urge to ensure they weren’t being followed.

“Now you’re really worrying me,” Ginny said.

“Ah. She ‘as not told you yet,” Fleur gathered, her look worried as well. The concern on Ginny’s face increased.

Conversation halted while they ordered at the cafe counter. The moment they were seated with their breakfast, Ginny demanded an answer. “Tell me right now or I’m going back to the Burrow to tell Mum something is wrong.”

“It’s not wrong exactly,” Hermione answered, feeling sick. “We think I might be pregnant.”

Ginny stopped blowing on her coffee to stare at Hermione. “You what?”

“We haven’t been using contraceptive spells. The magic… I don’t know. Somehow I just hadn’t thought of it. I… Bill used one this morning—”

“Oh that one last night, Merlin, I’ve never come so hard before during Quidditch. Ron nearly fell off his broom. Thank Merlin Mum wasn’t out there. The twins were a right mess after.”

“What?” Hermione asked blankly.

“Fleur laughed. “Zey ‘ad a bondgasm, sounds like.”

“An intense one,” Ginny agreed.

“But we were so far away!” Hermione exclaimed. “I didn’t think it would affect… I thought it only happened sometimes.”

“We formed a different kind of bond last night, Soeur de Coeur,” Fleur reminded her. “I am surprised ze magic of ze Weasley family acknowledged eet, but I weel talk to Beel about eet.”

“What kind of bond?” Ginny asked curiously.

“Veela,” Fleur said simply. The hard look Ginny gave the table concerned Hermione, but she didn’t have time to ask what it meant.

“So if you think you’re pregnant, why do we have to go to St. Mungo’s so urgently? Even I can cast the spell to test that.”

“Eet eezn’t giving us ze answer,” Fleur explained. “Eet came back dull and yellow.”

“But that… that’s not one of the colors that means anything,” Ginny said, looking perplexed.

“No, not zat I know of either, but eet must mean something, so the Healers weel know, I ‘ope.”

“They’re Healers, of course they will,” Hermione snapped nervously.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Waiting isn’t helping your nerves, I see, and you’re only picking at your bagel, so let’s just go. Then we’ll know what’s happening.”

As she cleaned up the breakfast area, Fleur didn’t notice the nasty little beetle scurrying under the table.

********

Ginny held Hermione’s hand as they walked into the exam room. She looked like a good supportive friend, and she was, but she also gloried in getting to touch Hermione in a way the boys couldn’t, beyond the twins.

She wondered at what it would mean if Hermione was pregnant. One of them really should have thought about this before now, but… even at the moment her mind shied away from it. Had to be something with the magic. She was just lucky she couldn’t impregnate her personally. Ginny knew that she wouldn’t have to face Hermione’s wrath if she were.

Because, though Herminoe would undoubtedly calm down once she got over the initial rage, Ginny knew she would first be quite angry.

Though Hermione would know it was her own fault, she would make the boys pay for it at least a little. As they waited for the Healer to arrive, Ginny decided to make conversation. “How did you think to check this if it has been so hard to concentrate on the thought for even a second?” she asked.

“Bill,” Hermione said tersely.

Fleur rolled her eyes fondly and explained, “Ze goblins are demanding she and Bill’s first child. They are convinced one weel come of ze ritual.”

Ginny clapped a hand to her mouth just as a very young woman in Healer’s robes entered. Her long, black hair was familiar.

“Padma!” Hermione exclaimed. “You’re a Healer?”

“In Training,” she answered, “but the receptionist thought I could handle you.”

From the way she said it, Ginny got the impression that the receptionist thought they were wasting everyone’s time freaking out over nothing. But Ginny assumed that happened a lot with first time Mums. She would have thought the same if Fleur hadn’t confirmed that something wasn’t right about the spell.

Indeed, after asking a number of questions, Padma cast the spell on Hermione in an almost bored fashion, before blinking. “That’s… the color really is quite abnormal. I think… I’m afraid I’m going to need to get the Healer after all,” she said. Padma stuck her wand tip to a panel on the wall and then turned back to them. “She’ll join us in a moment.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked. “Does it really look so different?”

“Yes. The coloring… it’s not usually so dull no matter where you are in your cycle. Here, let me show you. Do you mind, ladies?” she asked Ginny and Fleur. They both shook their heads.

Aiming the spell around the room, Padma cast it on all of them. Hermione’s was that dull yellow again, almost a sickly shade. Fleur’s was glowing green. Padma’s was a beautiful bright blue. When the other three looked at her and gasped, Ginny looked down — at the gold aura around her own abdomen.

“Merlin’s fucking balls how did that happen!?” Ginny exclaimed, her voice pitched high as she tried not to hyperventilate. How? When she had only… just the once… Merlin, Harry.

“When deed this ‘appen? Wait, no answers. Could we ‘ave a moment ‘Ealer Een Training?” Fleur asked.

“Of course,” Padma answered, turning to rush from the room.

“Not a word of this to anyone, please!” Hermione caught her arm to say.

With Padma gone, attention turned back to Ginny. She looked to Hermione for help, unable to form the words in the face of her older sister-in-law.

“Was it just the one time, Gin?” Hermione asked.

“You know of zis?” Fleur asked.

Hermione shrugged. “I knew it had happened one time, but it didn’t seem relevant to anything and no one’s business but theirs.”

“Who eez ze father?” Fleur asked, both curiosity and a small level of hurt in her voice. Ginny thought she was trying to conceal the hurt, but not quite managing.

“Harry,” Ginny whispered.

Fleur blinked at her. “When? Before ze battle somehow?”

Ginny shook her head. “After, but before leaving him at the hospital while we did the ritual.”

“It was while they were gathering things from the Burrow alone,” Hermione explained.

“You deed not use ze contraceptive charm?”

“No, Ginny responded. “I didn’t think of it and I doubt Harry knows it exists.”

“‘Ow could you—”

“How can you be mad at me when Hermione may be pregnant by your husband?” Ginny demanded. Fleur looked like she had been slapped.

It was that moment, of course, that the Healer decided to knock. Rather worriedly, Hermione said, “Come in.”

“Hello, I’m Healer Monroe,” the woman said. “I hear we have two patients when we were only expecting one. Let’s handle this abnormal scan first. Padma, could you perform the spell again?” She did. That dull color was back around Hermione once more. After seeing the gold around herself, the yellow looked even more sickly. It made Ginny worried for her wife.

“Oh dear,” the Healer said, swishing her wand about as a variety of diagnostics appeared above Hermione’s head. “Oh, your nutrition. And the magical exhaustion combined with fluctuations. Oh dear, no wonder. Mrs. Weasley, I’m sorry to say that your body is simply too depleted to create another life right now.”

“Is that why it’s that shade of yellow?”

“Well, that shade is for the loss of an egg. I’m so sorry.”

“Loss of an egg. So she was pregnant but eez no longer?” Fleur asked, sadness in her eyes.

“It was so early that we wouldn’t call it a pregnancy. We wouldn’t even be able to detect it without magic. The egg was only just trying to implant but was unable because of her body’s condition. You really must take better care of yourself if you wish to have a baby,” the Healer admonished.

Hermione started laughing, then burst into tears. As Fleur wrapped her arms around the other girl, she asked, “What can she expect? Weel she feel different?”

“No. It was still so early. In another week or so she will have her period as normal. You won’t even notice the egg,” the Healer reassured them.

“What if… for magical reasons… we wanted to extract that egg. What would we say?” she asked carefully.

“You would say nothing as that sort of magic would be foul,” the Healer said harshly.

Fleur looked like she might argue, but then flipped her hair over her shoulder and sighed. “Fine. Eez zere anything else you can tell us about ‘Ermione?” she asked.

“Just to get her body in better condition before trying again. I can prescribe nutrition potions if you like,” the Healer offered.

Grumbling, Hermione agreed to that. Ginny was getting more and more nervous as each moment passed. She didn’t want her turn, but she didn’t want to wait either.

“Okay, patient 2, on the bed.”

As Fleur helped Hermione down, the Healer helped Ginny up onto the exam table, giving her a soft smile of encouragement as she stepped away. Hermione, refusing the seat Fleur offered her, came to stand beside Ginny.

“I’m here for you Gin, and you know Harry will be, too,” Hermione proclaimed. Ginny certainly hoped so, though she couldn’t feel as sure as she would like.

The Healer cast all sorts of diagnostics over her head as well, after the initial pregnancy test was performed on her again. Delighted, the Healer rambled, “This is a mostly healthy body. More scars and bruising than one might hope, but no malnutrition. You do seem to have some magical fluctuation as well, but that’s a bit normal for a pregnant lady, usually far later in the pregnancy, though, and some believe it’s the baby’s magic acting out rather than the mother’s magic fluctuating. It’s a fascinating field, really.”

“When eez she due?” Fleur asked.

“Should be right around January 23rd,” the Healer said after glancing up at one of the diagnostics. “Of course first babies can take a little extra time as the body gets ready.”

The woman prattled on. She was sweet, but all Ginny wanted to do was get out of this place. She wanted to jump on a broom and fly away from this problem. Far away. Merlin, she wasn’t even sure if she was allowed on a broom. Once Mum found out she certainly wouldn’t be.

Mum. She was going to kill her. And Harry, if it came out the baby was his. Even if she knew about the Weasley marriage, she would insist Harry and Ginny get married. It was obvious. So. So maybe Mum just couldn’t know. Could she even tell her brothers? Ginny felt like puking.

Finally it was over. Her head was spinning with all the information she hadn’t really processed and her hands were full of pamphlets. Hermione and Fleur each took a side and led her to the floos, being careful to backtrack through the hospital so that it wasn’t obvious which area they had come from.

“The last thing we need is for the media to get hold of this,” Hermione said.

“Zey wouldn’t dare,” Fleur said fiercely and Hermione had no doubt they would regret it when they eventually, inevitably, discovered and reported on it.

“Where do we go?” Hermione hesitated just as she was about to step into the floo.

“Shell Cottage,” Fleur said decisively. “We need tea and a talk.”

********

“What the bloody hell did you do that for?” George hissed right after Fred dropped the billiwigs into the cauldron and it began bubbling like mad.

Fred was exhausted and his head was pounding. He hadn’t slept well without Hermione, he swore his magic felt like it was draining away, and George had been in a foul mood all day. It was so rare for his twin to be grouchy like this that it had hit Fred like a bludger. Surely they didn’t need Hermione just to get along?

She wasn’t even far away. They had still had a bloody intense bondgasm last night. And this morning had affected him and George even if the rest of them didn’t notice it. Now, he could feel her actually in town, and incredibly relieved about something, but then worried about something else. So he didn’t know what was going on with him and George, but he needed her to come here and be with them.

What were they going to do tomorrow night — for two nights — when she went to bloody Romania? Fred had half a mind to pack a bag and follow. But he knew Charlie would tie him in a knot if he tried. And Hermione had been adamant that everyone was equally important. It didn’t really work that way, but he and George had decided it was something she was going to have to learn on her own before she would believe it. Everyone else who knew enough to argue had apparently come to the same conclusion.

Fred groaned, and heard George do the same, both leaning hard on their work table. “What just happened?” Fred gritted out, feeling sick to his stomach.

“I think Hermione went further away again,” George gasped.

Truly, Fred could barely feel her again, much the way she had felt the night before, only this time it was hurting.

“Where do you think she went?” Fred asked. “And why?”

“She has a right to go places,” George managed through gritted teeth.

“I never said she didn’t,” Fred growled back. He thought he might throw up.

Taking a deep breath, George said, “Fine. Okay. We need some way to communicate with her when this kind of thing happens.”

“Do you think she’s feeling it, too?”

“Merlin, I can’t decide if I want her not to so she doesn’t have to go through this or if I’m hoping she can feel it so she comes back to us,” George admitted.

********

Hermione came out of the floo and dropped immediately to her knees, losing her breakfast. “Oh Merlin,” she whined as Fleur and Ginny nearly stumbled over her.

“Um… Hermione, I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be throwing up at the drop of a hat now,” Ginny said dryly as Fleur Scourgified the mess.

Each of them held one of her arms and pulled Hermione up enough to get her to the dining table. “What eez eet?” Fleur asked.

“It’s… I think I’m okay now,” she said, though everything still felt like it was spinning. “I couldn’t adjust to being so far away. The bond feels… stretched. It hurt a little less when the two of you were touching me, though.”

But?” Ginny prompted.

“But I need the twins soon. And… and maybe Charlie. Everyone would help, really,” Hermione admitted.

Looking to Fleur, Ginny crinkled her brow and said, “I thought it wasn’t supposed to be so bad anymore?”

“Eet eez not as bad as eet was, but you are right we thought eet would be cured.”

“She still hasn’t bonded with Ron or Percy. Could that be what’s causing it?” Ginny asked. Hermione was glad she had. She wanted answers but couldn’t make her mouth work enough to ask them.

“Eet should not be. Your father never bonded with his Weasley wife that we know of, but… only your Mum would know for sure, if anyone,” Fleur said worriedly. “Can you drink tea, little love?”

“Yes,” Hermione mumbled. “I think it might help.”

Fleur bustled about getting tea for each of them. “I added stomach soothing potion to both your teas,” she told both Hermione and Ginny as she sat down with hers.

“Thank Merlin,” Ginny said.

“You ‘ave been feeling ze morning sickness?” Fleur asked, almost excited.

Ginny shook her head. “No, or I hadn’t been. I think now I’m just so shocked.”

“Are you… how do you feel about it?” Hermione asked, trying to shove aside her discomfort — or the twins? What if they felt this bad, too?

“I don’t know how to feel. This wasn’t… I’m not sure I ever want to have kids, much less have one now.”

“Do you wish to end eet?” Fleur asked.

“Oh Merlin… Harry would be heartbroken, I think,” Ginny replied.

“Eet eez your body, Ginny. Harry can make a baby with someone who is wanting and ready,” Fleur said matter-of-factly.

“How would I… end it?” Ginny asked.

“This early zere are simple spells for eet,” Fleur explained. “Deed you not learn zis een ‘Ogwarts?”

Ginny shook her head, an angry look on her face.

“Sometimes I wonder if we learned anything worthwhile at Hogwarts,” Hermione said, feeling bitter. The educational changes she had demanded and that she planned to implement beyond those were more obviously important all the time.

“All I’ve ever wanted was to play Quidditch. I won’t be able to do that if I’m a Mum,” Ginny said, sounding forlorn. To Hermione’s surprise, she seemed sad at the idea of not carrying this child.

“Gin, if you want to keep the baby and that’s your only worry, we will take care of it for you. It’s the pregnancy itself we can’t help you with. Can we?” Hermione asked, turning to Fleur. Who knew what magic could actually do in the reproductive area? Not anyone who graduated from Hogwarts.

“Zey are working on magical transference, but eet eez not an available option yet. I deed not expect you to be willing to make such an offer, ‘Ermione. Are you… I may ‘ave misunderstood but I thought you were pleased.”

“I am, for me. I don’t… I would feel so responsible! And…” Hermione fidgeted, she hated the way this sounded.

“You are already responsible for everyone and everything,” Ginny stated. “You don’t need a baby, too — yours or mine.”

“If it were mine because you’re my wife it would be… less my own responsibility and more everyone’s. Does that make sense?”

“Eet would feel zat way, you mean. Any baby ze three of us ‘ave eez everyone’s baby regardless, but you would accept eet better with the child being one of ours. Even though we are all one family now, in more ways zan one,” Fleur said simply. She grasped the situation so well.

“More ways than one?” Ginny asked, looking up from her hands.

“My Veela magic ‘as accepted ‘Ermione as well. And she accepted eet so… eet eez not ze same as Weasley magic, but eet eez similar. We are family, she eez my wife as well,” Fleur said, a little defensively, Hermione thought.

Apparently she wasn’t the only one who thought so since Ginny’s tone was very careful when she said, “I never said she wasn’t. How do you feel about all this?”

Fleur blinked. “I… I ‘ope I can admit ‘ow I feel without ‘urting you ‘Ermione.”

“I don’t know what you could say that would hurt me,” Hermione said, sipping her tea and watching Fleur.

With almost a sob, Fleur admitted, “I am so relieved you are not pregnant! I would ‘ave ‘elped and I would be ‘appy for you, but I… eet would ‘urt to know that Beel’s first child was not mine.”

“Oh Fleur!” Hermione said, “I am so glad I’m not — for me, but for you, too. I didn’t know it would make you so sad.”

“We ‘ad been trying, before ze war was so bad. Zen we ‘ad to stop and we ‘aven’t even talked about eet yet but I want…”

Hermione gathered Fleur into her arms and held her tight while she cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry it was a possibility,” Hermione told her. She was feeling waves of sadness and something harsher but she honestly couldn’t tell if it was hers, Fleur’s, or the twins. Maybe even Ginny’s.

“No,” Fleur sniffled, “You ‘ave nothing to apologize for. I am being silly when eet deedn’t even ‘appen.”

“I think maybe you should talk to Bill about it as soon as possible. Maybe you can start working on it again,” Hermione suggested.

“Not until we work things out with ze goblins. I do not want to birth a child who eez trapped into servitude.”

“Merlin,” Hermione managed, her head pounding. “I need to add that to my list.”

“Getting Fleur pregnant?” Ginny asked, making them all laugh.

“I meant figuring out the situation with the goblins,” Hermione eventually managed to explain between giggles. Her happiness seemed to have backed off the overwhelming feelings for a time. “There’s just not enough time for everything.”

“And you should be resting,” Fleur said. “Until you ‘ave recovered your strength. Ginny, you too, even eef you don’t plan to keep ze baby,” Fleur’s voice faltered but she continued on, “you need your rest. Your body eez working ‘ard right now.”

“It’s not even lunch time yet,” Hermione mumbled, but she was yawning as she said it and she felt somewhat faint.

“I’m keeping it,” Ginny suddenly announced.

“What?” Hermione asked, surprised at that outburst.

“Mum’s going to make me go back to Hogwarts for the year anyway, so it’s not like I can get my Quidditch start yet. I do want a kid at some point, so this lets me do that without interrupting my career. And I’ll have all of you to help me take care of the little bugger,” Ginny explained.

“We weel need to work on your language, little Mum,” Fleur said.

Ginny stuck her tongue out at her.

“And perhaps eet would be best to think on eet for a few days to be sure—”

“I’m sure,” Ginny stated, exuding confidence in her decision.

As usual with Gin, Hermione was slightly awed by how easily Ginny made decisions and stuck with them, unperturbed by anyone else’s opinion.

Fleur nodded, “Zen we weel be ‘ere to ‘elp ze whole way.”

“Do you want to keep it quiet for now?” Hermione asked, thinking about how Molly would take it if they revealed both the family marriage and her only daughter’s out-of-wedlock teenage pregnancy on the same night.

“Until I’ve had time to tell Harry, yes,” Ginny said, another decision easily made. “And don’t worry so much. I know I’ll need to be careful about how we tell Mum once Harry knows. I won’t just blurt it out. No one tell Ron, though. He absolutely would.”

Hermione laughed, “The first moment your Mum gave him that look to make him feel guilty. She wouldn’t even know that was what he was going to admit to.”

“I weel need to tell Beel. He should know, as ‘Ead of ‘Ouse,” Fleur said.

“There’s no need for me to tell anyone,” Hermione thought aloud.

“Good, now let’s get Hermione to her men,” Ginny stated.

**********

George knew it the moment Hermione arrived in the flat from wherever far off place she had been. It felt like a breath of air, like honey, like home. He had to race Fred to get to her first, but he managed.

“Hermione!” He cried, picking her up and twirling her around. He hadn’t consciously meant to kiss her, but they were in a full snog by the time Fred managed to pull her away, taking his turn to do the same.

Charlie was suddenly beside them. George guessed his older brother had heard him shout her name from the back bedroom where he was supposed to be napping. Charlie hadn’t slept well either.

“I need a turn, too,” Charlie said, though he waited before grabbing her.

Hermione pulled back from Fred, her eyes looking glazed, and reached for Charlie. George noticed then that Fleur and Ginny had arrived as well. “What are you three up to this morning?” he asked.

“Where did you take her that was far away again?” Fred demanded.

Fleur blinked at him before saying, “We are ‘aving a girls’ day, but we went back to Shell Cottage for some tea. ‘Ow did you know?”

“We felt her leave,” George said with a grimace.

“It was bloody awful,” Fred added.

“She got sick once we were there, too,” Ginny said. “Maybe we should have visited here first.”

Ron walked up, a hammer in one hand, and kissed Hermione on the cheek. “Good to see you, Mione.” Harry did the same, though it didn’t produce the same sense of relief from Hermione. George wondered if they needed to get Percy and Bill here to kiss her as well before she would feel completely settled.

George noticed that his sister seemed a little nervous when Harry came in. It was reminiscent of the days when she had a crush on him and couldn’t even speak when he entered the room. Perhaps it was awkward to be in the presence of someone you had been in love with but now saw as a brother.

“Next time, come here for your tea,” Fred told the girls.

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Fleur said diplomatically, but Ginny snorted.

“So you can all paw Mione the whole time?” she asked.

“Exactly,” George said with a grin. Charlie was nodding enthusiastically as well.

“I don’t think that would give us the close girl talk time we were looking for,” Hermione laughed.

“Hmmmm. We could make ourselves scarce if you promise not to go off like that. It was bloody miserable,” Fred told her.

“Did you feel sick, too?” Hermione asked.

They both nodded. George was surprised to notice that Charlie was nodding as well. Why was their bond so close?

“There’s something about the bond that isn’t right,” Hermione said. “I’m sure of it. Even soulbonds should allow me to be in other parts of the world without causing us all pain.”

“How can we fix it?” Fred asked.

“I don’t know. I need to research, but there’s not enough time,” Hermione practically wailed.

“There is,” Charlie said. “There’s time right now.”

“Yeah,” George agreed. “If you eat lunch with us and give us each a kiss again, we can let you leave us behind and go to the library.”

He said the last bit tongue-in-cheek, but she still glared at him when he insinuated they would ‘let’ her do something. Their wife was certainly not interested in letting them rule the roost. Not that this was a surprise or even something that didn’t thrill him. But there were moments when it was slightly more than George wanted to deal with. He had only been joking.

“I could just go to the library right now,” she said.

“And miss out on this fine peanut butter cuisine?” Fred asked from the kitchen where he was preparing sandwiches.

“Well, you do make a tempting offer,” she said with an eye roll.

Ginny headed for the kitchen. “I’m helping make some decent sandwiches!” she called back.

“I actually need to ‘ead back ‘ome eef you think you weel be okay, everyone?” Fleur’s eyes were on Hermione, and then Ginny for some reason.

“We’re fine,” Ginny assured her and Hermione nodded.

What had the girls been up to?

“So you’re taking Ginny to the library with you as part of a girls’ day?” Ron asked in confusion.

“Better me than you!” Ginny yelled from the kitchen. “You know how useless you are in a library. But, Hermione, if it’s okay, I may need to take a nap instead. I don’t think I have the energy for a library spree with you.”

“I’ll go with you,” Fred and Charlie volunteered at the same moment.

Hermione blinked at them both, but nodded. “The more people we have researching, the better,” she said.

“Then I’ll come too,” George said gratefully. He hadn’t wanted to be left behind but to be fair the other two had offered first. He thought Fred looked a bit disgruntled that another person was joining, but he would have to deal. Through the bond, he could feel Fred’s need to be alone with Hermione, but he knew his own need was there, too. This sharing was hard, but they had to do it.

“If you come to the library, you have to help research — or at least fetch books and return things to their places. And not snog me constantly. And let me research,” Hermione told them all.

“Would never dream of anything else,” Fred assured her, which just made Hermione narrow her eyes.

“I love to research,” Charlie offered. “I can carry a few books about, too, if you need it, but I would be interested in helping with the actual research.”

Hermione beamed at him and George felt an unprecedented moment of jealousy. He wasn’t sure if it was his or Fred’s, but he thought it might have actually come from himself. There was a level those two could connect on that he wasn’t as much a part of. George of course did research for the products, but he didn’t love it. Their older brother, for all his muscles and love of adrenaline rushes, was also an intellectual. Not bloody fair that he had it all.

“Freddie and I are good at skimming books to see if they are likely to have the right information. And of course we can fetch and carry, too. We’ll be good research partners,” he assured her.

Looking at Fred, they said together, “We promise,” in an almost angelic chorus.

************

Of course, a trip to the Hogwarts library meant time with Professor McGonagall. Charlie hadn’t had much interaction with her except at the battle and then Dad’s funeral, but he still thought of the woman fondly. It was clear the twins did as well. She and Hermione, though — they were the best of friends.

He and the twins joked and talked Quidditch with Professor McGonagall, but when it was Herminoe’s turn to talk, all three men just listened and watched for the most part.

“I have heard back from several muggleborns with potential interest in the Coalition,” the Professor told Hermione.

“So soon?” she asked excitedly.

“Indeed. They are quite enthusiastic. One, Mrs. Ruth Edwards, is interested but skeptical. She’s older now and out of touch with the wizarding world. The rest… well, Stephen Toulmin is fascinated, of course. And Vivienne Westwood has been dying to come back to the wizarding world in some way, but couldn’t stomach the politics here, with good reason. David Bowie’s quick response was a bit of a surprise, but—”

“David Bowie!?” Hermione squeaked. “He’s a muggleborn?”

“Well, he’s actually a pureblood, but he’s been in the muggle world for so long I thought he might be a good advocate for your agenda. He’s thrilled.”

“Bowie isn’t a pureblood name,” Fred pointed out.

Professor McGonagall gave him a sharp look, but then smirked. “Peasegood would have been an awful last name for a rock star.”

They all laughed and agreed.

Looking more grim, she added, “And his family was and still is so embarrassed by the whole thing that they threw him out. Not quite as dramatically as burning him off the family tree, but they made it clear to the poor boy that he was no longer welcome at home.”

“And they still feel that way?” George asked in disbelief. The twins had a deep appreciation for muggle music and clearly couldn’t fathom a family turning away from David Bowie of all people.

“I don’t know about letting a pureblood into the Coalition,” Hermione said, “That wasn’t my original plan.”

“No, but I think you should consider it,” Professor McGonagall suggested. “They wouldn’t have to be eligible for everything — like the representative seats — but they could be a huge boon in fundraising and advocating for the Coalition in groups that the muggleborns just can’t get into.”

Hermione frowned, but nodded. Charlie had never realized how exclusionary the wizarding world could be. As ridiculed as the Weasleys were, they were still purebloods and treated as such. It was disconcerting to really feel how their world pushed the muggleborn out.

“Mary Cattermole and I are going to meet for tea in three days. I wonder if any of these others could make it!” Hermione said, her excitement building as she went on. “Just the muggleborns first. I will draft some proposals about non-muggleborns and see what the others think. Professor McGonagall, might we meet here? It would be neutral ground for everyone.”

“Of course. There are regular people as well, by the way. Marvin Taylor, Sandra Williams, Ben Copper. There will be others, but those are the first responses, the most enthusiastic. This thing you’re putting together is unheard of in the wizarding world. It will take some time to get going. Some will not dare show their support until they are certain the organization has power.”

“Then they’ll join us soon enough,” Hermione said confidently, taking the list Professor McGonagall offered her with owling addresses for those interested now. Slipping them into her notebook, she asked the question they were really there for. “May we use the library today?”

“Of course. It is at your disposal any day between now and the start of term — as long as you keep certain rambunctious individuals from doing any damage,” McGonagall’s eyes were on the twins, but flicked to him once as well. Charlie felt it was good to know he was trusted slightly more than the twins.

“I’ll control them,” Hermione promised, rolling her eyes at the twins pretending to be stuck to her.

Professor McGonagall was clearly trying not to laugh as she said, “I’m sure you will.”

With that, they were off. Charlie had to admit he was excited. He hadn’t been in Hogwarts’ library since he graduated. Even though he sometimes went to more academic-minded libraries, he missed this old place and the broad range of subjects it covered. In depth dragon studies were fascinating for him, but they weren’t the only thing in the world he wanted to know.

“Okay, books on bondings, soul magic, blocking magical bonds…” Hermione trailed off, trying to think of others.

“Books on twin bonds might be a good idea,” George suggested.

“And we know exactly where those are,” Fred added.

“Check for books about other bonds nearby. That could be where the whole section is,” Hermione told them.

They gave her identical bows. “Your wish is our command,” they said together before disappearing into the tall shelves.

Charlie’s arms wanted to reach for Hermione now that they were finally alone, but he refrained. Tomorrow he would be taking her to Romania. Tomorrow it would be just the two of them for two nights.

Clearing his throat and pushing away the thoughts that brought up, Charlie put on his reading glasses and said, “Maybe I should look for books on ritual magic, too? Maybe we could find something about the ritual that made the binding so tight. Or a different kind of ritual to use to loosen it.”

Hermione smiled at him, her eyes soft and happy. “Thank you, Charlie, that’s a great idea. I’m just going to go over here and check out soul magic.”

He started to turn, but he felt her hand on his arm and turned back, barely catching her as Hermione flung herself at him for a parting kiss. He wasn’t sure why he had gotten one when the twins hadn’t, but Charlie was pleased as his wife turned and headed for the restricted section.

Soon, they had all returned to their table and spread out the materials. Hermione began reading and making notes from a very promising looking book on ritual soulbondings. The twins were sorting through the rest of the pile, quickly determining if there might be anything useful or not in the selections they had made.

Charlie picked up a book called “Magical Bonding Mistakes and How To Fix Them.” It sounded straight to the point, but he soon discovered it was anything but. There were so many different ways a bonding could go wrong.

They had definitely experienced the possibility of the whole thing going south when there wasn’t a strong enough memory. Perhaps Ron’s sacrifice — just one memory — wasn’t strong enough for the two of them, if you were focusing on just the bond with the twins. But the magic hadn’t behaved in the terrifying ways the book described. The twins hadn’t lost their magic. There had been no immediate backlash to anyone. And that part of the ritual hadn’t applied to the rest of them at all. It was to bring Fred back.

There was the possibility of interference from outside a ritual, but that hadn’t happened. Something being added that shouldn’t have been and equally bad effects from not adding something that should have been. But they hadn’t added anything…

Charlie stopped, realizing that wasn’t true. At the last minute, they had anointed everyone with Hermione’s blood for the extra power.

“Hermione,” he whispered, years of library time kicking in even without Madam Pince there to chastise them. “I think I may have something.”

Walking over to her, Charlie showed her the passage in the book. He saw the crinkle of her brow as she tried to see what he was getting at.

“We added things to the ritual while we were adapting, but we did it carefully and checked the arithmancy multiple times to be sure each thing would work,” she told him, looking a little put out.

“The blood,” he said quietly. “From you.”

Hermione gasped, making the twins look up.

“What did you find?” Fred asked.

“Something we may have done wrong, but I don’t know. I think… I would need to do the arithmancy for it. And probably have Bill do it, too.”

“What is it?” George asked impatiently.

Charlie had almost forgotten that the two of them hadn’t been part of the process when they were coming up with the ritual. Or awake for the blood either. Scratching the back of his neck, he tried to figure out the best way to explain.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” Hermione said, “Before the ritual started, Bill had to have sex with me as Head of House Weasley. Because I was a virgin, there was blood, so… there’s a lot of power in virginal blood so we anointed everyone… Merlin, no. We didn’t anoint everyone. Ron refused. He thought it was too gross.”

“Wait, that mark across our foreheads was your blood?” Fred asked, grimacing. “That is gross.”

“Would you rather be dead?” Hermione snapped back at him and Fred immediately lost the disgusted look he had been giving.

“No, of course not,” Fred answered when George nudged him.

“So what happens if one person in the ritual skips a part of it?” Hermione asked.

“According to that book, the bond with that person would either be weakened or fail completely,” Charlie said, though that didn’t really seem to be the problem.

“But Ron still experiences a form of the bondgasm,” George pointed out. “It is weaker than everyone else’s, but I thought that was just because he was only your friend.”

“Does the book say how to correct it?” Fred asked.

It did, but Charlie didn’t like it. “The book says the bond must be sealed to a higher degree than others.”

“What does that mean?” Hermione asked. “I can’t… can’t have sex with Ron. And how would I have sex to a higher degree anyway?”

“Well,” Fred said, waggling his eyebrows.

“No,” Hermione commanded. “Whatever you’re about to say, just no.”

“This still doesn’t explain why we can’t get more than a certain distance apart for a certain length of time without it hurting. I haven’t seen anything in the books on soulbonds that make that seem normal,” George said.

“Maybe all of us just have to complete the bonds. Whether Dad’s family marriage worked that way or not,” Fred hypothesized, “Something about combining the twin ritual with the family ritual may have made it necessary.”

“Or maybe it had to do with the blood in a different way,” George said suddenly. “We increased the power of the spell, so it increased the binding?”

“Merlin, that’s a possibility,” Hermione said. “I wish there were someone more knowledgeable we could discuss this with.”

“There has to be a bonding expert out there somewhere,” Charlie pointed out, knowing it was usually Hermione’s first instinct to turn to an expert. She was just distraught right now with the possibility of things they may have done wrong.

As he had hoped, Hermione’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas. “Yes! We just have to find out who they are and I’ll owl them.” Pulling out a new piece of parchment, Hermione set it and a quill in the middle of the table. “When you see the name of someone quoted, write it down and what they were talking about.”

All four of them settled into the work and they soon had quite a long list to work from by the time Hermione’s belly growled audibly enough that Charlie heard it.

“We should stop for tonight,” he declared. “Since no one else is coming here right now, we could leave our books where they are and come back another day.”

Hermione looked scandalized. “Don’t even think about it!”

Grumbling, Charlie and the twins each began taking books back. Hermione started to help, but Charlie took them from her, kissing her forehead. “No, draga. You stay there. We’ll get the books all put away.”

She grumbled, but let them handle it. As they headed out, they talked quietly.

“So did we learn anything with all that?” Fred asked, almost a grumble.

“That I need to finish the bonding with Percy and… and with Ron. I don’t know how, but we’ll have to manage.”

“And we have a list of possible experts to owl. I can help with that, Hermione,” Charlie volunteered himself. He wanted to take some of the pressure off of her.

“It was a useful research trip. And don’t you feel good, flexing that brain of yours,” George cajoled.

The smile she gave them all sent Charlie’s heart singing when she said, “Yes, yes it did feel good. I need more time for that. I have so many things to research!”

Charlie couldn’t stop smiling, himself, as she began listing off the many things she wanted and needed to pursue.

 

 

When he arrived at the Burrow, Bill found it was filled with the sounds and scents of home, nothing like the dark silence of the night before. As much as he had appreciated not having to be there the night before, it was a relief that Mum was doing better tonight.

It turned out that he was the last to arrive, not that this was a huge surprise. Since the goblins’ acquisition of himself and Fleur, Bill rarely came home anything like on time. He was lucky to make it to Mum’s dinners.

Of course, tonight he wasn’t sure he could be considered lucky. He could no longer put off telling Mum. The whole family would be there to help, but Bill knew her wrath was likely to land on him.

As they all sat down for dinner, he tried to figure out if he should tell her now or wait until the end of dinner. Bill decided he could put it off just that little bit longer as he got pulled into a quiet conversation with Hermione about rerunning some arithmancy equations.

“I would be happy to look them over for you,” he said, noting that while she was acting casual about them, the looks he was getting from Charlie and the twins spoke volumes about the importance of these equations. “So you spent the afternoon at Hogwarts?”

“In the library,” Hermione said, clearly thrilled by that fact.

“Researching and loving it,” Ron rolled his eyes fondly.

“Naturally. If you ever tried proper studying you would understand how rewarding it can be,” Hermione scolded him, almost playfully.

“Here, here,” Percy agreed from his spot down the table.

Bill realized then, when she smiled slightly at her third son, that Mum was sitting silently at the head of the table. She had taken Dad’s seat rather than her own. This was the first time she had done it and Bill couldn't help but wonder if there was a reason for it. The look she gave him, and he realized the look that went around the table, was one of intense disappointment. Like they had all done something terrible.

She couldn’t know. How would she know? But Bill couldn’t think of anything else that would make her look so incensed and hopeless at the same time.

His appetite gone, he tried to focus on some of the conversation floating around him and, at all costs, not look at Mum, but it was hard to do. After a time, he felt like her eyes were following him. He just needed to do it.

Clearing his throat, Bill looked to the head of the table, meeting her eyes. “Mum. There’s something I need to tell you, something we all need you to know.”

He felt Fleur squeeze his right knee, Hermione his left. They were here with him, whatever happened.

It became obvious after a long moment that Mum didn’t intend to acknowledge his statement. She was looking at him like he didn’t exist.

“We’ve lied to you, Mum. It was to help keep you calm, to help—”

“Don’t keep lying,” she hissed. “Don’t act like you care now, when you’ve been lying to me since I woke up.”

“H-how do you know?” Bill stumbled over the words.

“Know what, dear?” she asked, blinking at him innocently. “Let’s hear it.”

With great trepidation for this landmine of a conversation, Bill moved forward, “To save Fred and George, we didn’t just use the Prewett Family Legacies to bond the twins. We also used the Weasley Family Legacies to offer greater power and support through the Weasley brotherhood.”

“You all married her,” Mum stated flatly. “I’m not sure whether to curse her or feel sorry for her, saddled with all of you.” Her tone was bitter, with barely veiled fury underneath. This was not going to end well.

“How did you know already?” Fred asked.

“I have a gift for you, Bill. Aunt Muriel suggested I give something to my new Head of House. And I thought, since we’re a Noble House again, we should have something to celebrate the Weasleys. I just didn’t know the person I would be gifting it to was a pervert and willing to do anything to get his hands on an extra woman.”

Mum stalked over and pulled something out of her knitting basket, letting it unfurl itself and hang down. It was a beautiful red and gold tapestry. As it unfurled, names and faces began to appear along a gigantic tree with weasels frolicking at the bottom. There they were, all the Weasleys for generations, including their own — all of them tied to Hermione.

Bill felt his jaw drop. He knew his siblings were all equally stunned.

Before anyone could manage to say a thing, Mum calmly asked, “What ritual did you really use to keep the twins alive?”

No one spoke. No one dared move.

Then Hermione cleared her throat. “We did use the Prewett’s twin bonding ritual, but inside the Weasley marriage ritual. The brotherhood one.” When no one added anything and Molly didn’t speak, Hermione explained, “We weren’t sure if the Prewett ritual would be enough to save the twins, and we only had one chance. We had to do the most powerful thing we could come up with so that we were sure.”

Her voice was strong and sure, though Bill could hear the tiniest quiver now and then. She was nervous, too, and he felt like a cad for leaving it all to her.

“Do you even know what you’ve done? How those rituals work?” Molly demanded, her voice still eerily calm.

“We knew enough to keep Fred and George alive,” Bill said, finally finding his voice.

“The bonding ritual could have done that. The Weasley bond… It’s disgusting. Why would you—”

“What’s disgusting about it, Mum?” Ron asked. He truly looked dumbfounded.

“One woman, with all those men,” Mum hissed.

There was a pause before Bill asked, “Are we talking about us or about Dad’s brothers and their wife?”

“His wife, too, you know,” Mum said, her calm voice shaking with contained anger.

Out of the corner of Bill’s eyes, he could see the worried expressions of his siblings. This had to be handled carefully or she would explode.

He didn’t have the chance to figure out what to say because George spoke. “Actually, Mum, we need your knowledge about this.”

Mum blinked. “My knowledge?” she slowly asked.

“Yes,” Fred answered. “We were researching bonds earlier today, actually. There are so many questions I wish we could ask Dad.”

There was a gasp from Mum, but she didn’t yell. She didn’t burst into tears. She seemed almost in a state of shock. Quietly, she asked, “What would you ask him if you could?”

Bill was almost certain it was a terrible idea to answer that question, but he couldn’t stop his siblings.

“If they had to stay close to each other?” George put forward.

Fred followed with, “Did it hurt to be away from one another for long periods of time?”

“Did everyone have to um… seal the bond with their wife before she was balanced and okay again?” Charlie stumbled out.

“Can the bonding cause magical fluctuations?” Hermione asked, something Bill hadn’t realized was a concern.

Looking around at them with almost a panicked expression, Mum shook her head. “No, the bonding shouldn’t do any of those things. Your father never sealed his bond with Sarah. If either of them felt uncomfortable because of it, they never said so. This is why you shouldn’t play with magic you don’t understand.” The words were scolding, but her tone was resigned.

“If the bond holds us tighter than it should, better that than losing Fred and George,” Ginny declared.

Mum nodded, “Of course.”

“Mrs. Weasley…” Fleur ventured, “Eez there anything you know about ze bonding?”

“Not much,” she said with an irritated sigh. “I didn’t want to know then and I certainly didn’t intend for any of you to need to know.”

Bill wasn’t sure what to say to that. Thankfully, Hermione spoke up. “That’s understandable, but any information at all would be helpful.”

Suddenly seeming to really notice her, Mum got that look in her eyes. “You. You took all my sons — and my daughter — as your partners for life? Why would you do that, Hermione?” Mum demanded, her voice rising slightly in the middle before she closed her eyes and calmed her tone again.

“She did it to save us,” Fred spoke up, his own irritation showing. “To keep me from dying.”

“That part’s still true,” George added with a hand on Fred’s shoulder.

“The things we told you about the twins' bond with her are accurate,” Percy put in, pushing his glasses up his nose to look his Prefect self. “We just left out the additional point about the brotherhood marriage.”

“We were afraid you would lose it, Mum,” Ron said, causing nearly everyone else at the table to groan.

For a moment, it looked like she would do just that. Then Mum sighed and angrily got up from the table. “I am trying to accept this, but it is hard. That bloody bond held your father until they all died. As far as I know it only ever hurt him when they were killed, but there was an awareness. They never had to be close to each other. One of his brothers worked internationally, so that’s definitely something you’ve done wrong.”

“We did our best,” Bill started, but Mum wasn’t done.

“And I hated being around that harlot, with six husbands! I shudder to think what kind of disgusting—”

“Think very hard about what you’re saying and how it applies to my—our— wife,” Charlie nearly growled.

“How am I supposed to look at her and know what she’s doing with you all without thinking she’s a… a scarlet woman!” Mum yelled.

“Her name is Hermione and she is not—” Bill began.

“You’re married! Or you were. Did this marriage cancel that one or do you have two wives now?” Mum demanded of him.

“I am still ‘is wife,” Fleur spoke up. “But now I ‘ave a wife, too.”

“That’s not how it works,” Mum declared.

“Eet eez when there eez Veela magic at play as well. And do not forget ze love and caring zat makes a family.”

“How can there be love and caring when you all had to marry?” Mum nearly screeched.

“Maybe it’s the magic, or maybe there was already love and care there,” Harry suggested quietly. “I thought Hermione and I had been with the family for some time, loved and cared for.”

Mum sputtered. “Of course you are, Harry dear, but not like this. Not… not in bed together.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ginny smirked, causing Harry to blush scarlet and Mum to turn beet red in anger.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, that better be a joke!”

To Bill’s surprise, Ginny shrank back and nearly whispered, “Of course it was, Mum.”

He felt Fleur and Hermione tense on either side of him, but neither said a word, staring at Ginny. He noticed his sister give them a miniscule head shake as Mum began to scream about sex before marriage. Then she caught her breath, glared around at them all and restarted, “Relations outside your marriage are even worse.”

Bill felt his patience snap. “I think what happens in or outside our marriages will have to be determined by us, Mum. I understand that’s frustrating; I know it’s just one more thing to worry over, but it is ultimately our problem.”

“Don’t you talk to me like that, young—”

“Don’t you talk to him like that!” Hermione said, clearly having had enough. “I have sat here and listened to the way you speak of me and the way you talk to each of them and I’m done. We’re adults, and we can make these decisions for ourselves. We would appreciate your guidance, Molly, but no one here should be talked down to.”

“Ginny isn’t an adult,” Mum practically snarled. “And until she is, she’s not leaving my sight.”

“Mum, you can’t—” Ginny began.

“I can, actually,” she said and suddenly her wand was out and she was speaking some spell none of them knew. When she finished, she turned to Ginny. “You, young lady, won’t be leaving this house unless you’re with me.”

“You can’t just hold her hostage!” Fred shouted.

Mum crossed her arms. “I’m not holding anyone hostage. This is called parenting, which we obviously didn’t do well enough on for the rest of you. I knew Arthur was being too soft with you all.”

Fred opened his mouth to speak. Hermione cast a quick Silencio and Bill was grateful. Hermione stood. “I believe it’s time for us to leave for the evening. Ginny, I’m so sorry. We’ll visit you tomorrow. Harry, will you…?”

“Of course,” he responded, seeming to intuitively know whatever she was asking.

“I suggest we head to the flat at the shop ,” she said, looking around the table.

With that, everyone stood except Harry, Ginny, and Ron. Ron looked to Hermione and said, “I think I’d best stay with Mum. Percy can catch me up after.”

Hermione nodded and everyone else began heading for the floo.

Notes:

St Mungo’s summary: Hermione is not pregnant. Surprise! Ginny is.

Chapter 22

Notes:

Finally. I think this has been my longest gap between chapters and I'm so sorry. December was a rough month in real life and then I got stuck on the final scene here. Thank you for sticking with me in this crazy soap opera of a piece.

Thank you to LadyWinterLight and Astrangefan for the hard work they do for me!

“That was wicked,” Fred said, thrilled with the way Hermione had stood up to Mum.

George sighed. “It actually went much better than I had imagined.”

“You imagined it worse than that? What in the world was ‘wicked’ about it?” Hermione asked, looking perplexed and upset.

“She wasn’t full out screaming at us,” Charlie spoke up, in agreement with George.

There had been an assumption that Mum would lose all control, far sooner than she had started to slip. Of course it was terrible what this meant for Ginny, but she had Harry and Ron there to help, and Mum was always softer on Harry.

Fred grinned, “And you were wicked, taking control like that.” He put an arm around Hermione and buried his nose in her hair. He felt gratified when she sank back against his chest, sighing.

“It was compelling,” Percy said, his eyes watching their wife with heat. That wasn’t quite as wicked.

“It was hard,” Hermione confided quietly.

Bill and Fleur came through the floo last. Bill looked pale and sad. Fred wondered what else Mum had said before they got away.

“We have to help Ginny,” Hermione said.

“Oui,” Fleur agreed. “Een France she could be emancipated from ‘er mother.”

“It’s easier than that,” Percy stated. “She’s married; she’s already emancipated.”

“What?” Hermione looked astounded, then irritated. “I should have thought of that. In almost every culture, getting married means you are no longer under your parents’ control. Just, in many of those, you’re then under your husband’s control.”

“Een zis case, under ‘er wife’s control. But ze point eez zat Molly cannot do zis.”

“Will the wards she’s using even work to hold Ginny in?” George asked.

Bill thought for a moment before responding. “It depends on if she created them specifically to keep in someone under her control or if it’s more of a general age line or something like that. If it’s an age line, even Hermione won’t be able to get her through.”

“Unless you take it down, O great and mighty cursebreaker,” Fred said.

“I could,” Bill said, though he sounded reluctant.

“But?” Hermione asked.

“How completely do we want to destroy things with Mum?” Bill asked slowly.

Incredulous didn’t begin to describe how Fred felt. How could Bill possibly think things weren’t already destroyed? From the expressions on the other’s faces, they felt the same. He could tell Hermione was about to respond, but that wasn’t her burden to bear against Bill and whatever this was he was feeling.

Charlie spoke up before Fred could. “Mum did that herself, Bill. What she’s done to Ginny is too much.”

“I know,” Bill said, still hesitant. “But she’s struggling. You know she is. With Dad being gone and everything we’ve been through. And she’s just found out we all lied to her about something huge. What’s going to happen to her if we break through this and just take Gin?”

“What’s going to happen to Gin if we don’t?” Hermione demanded. She looked furious.

“Eef Beel weel not break eet, I weel. Curse breaking eezn’t my specialty anymore, but I can break an age line well enough,” Fleur said, nodding to Hermione.

“It’s decided then,” Hermione agreed, the two girls clearly with their minds made up.

“But—” Bill started, but Hermione cut him off.

“This way is better, Bill. You stay home. All of you stay here. It even keeps you out of it. You can claim you didn’t even know.”

“She already ‘ates us. Zis eez better,” Fleur added.

Unwilling to let the women take this alone, Charlie volunteered. “I’ll come, too.”

“You don’t have to,” Hermione said to him.

“I’m aware,” Charlie told her. “Part of me hates the idea that Mum will be hurt, that she is hurting enough to have done this. But she isn’t going to get away with it either. Ginny deserves better than to be left there when she shouldn’t be.”

“Perhaps I should come, too,” Percy suggested. “To help Mum understand the legalities of it.”

Bill relaxed slightly at that. “It would be good for you to do that. I could come along—”

“No. We’ve got this under control and you can claim you didn’t know what we were up to. You can maintain what you’ve built working together and we’ll take care of the family,” Hermione stated firmly.

She didn’t allow her voice to sound angry, but Fred noticed his older brother wincing anyway. He had gotten her message.

“Hermione, please,” Bill started again, but then seemed to think better of it. Shaking his head, he swallowed hard before saying, “Before you go, I need to know…” He trailed off, seeming unable to even ask whatever it was.

“Need to know what?” Fred asked, looking between their wife and oldest brother, seeing how stressed Bill looked again.

Hermione suddenly broke away from Fred to grab Bill by the arms. Her face was elated when she said, “I forgot you don’t know. I’m not!”

“You’re not?” Bill asked, blinking as though he didn’t believe her words. Then he was hugging her, with tears sliding down his cheeks and a grin on his face. “Oh, thank Merlin.”

“What’s going on?” George asked.

A look passed between Bill and Fleur before Fleur said, “Ze goblins believed ‘Ermione was pregnant from ze ritual. Zey were demanding ze baby.”

“What? They couldn’t do that!” Charlie exploded. Fred doubted he had even thought about the possibility of children — Merlin knew he hadn’t — but he must feel as protective as he did about his baby dragons.

“Zey could make ze demand. And zey deed. I do not know what would ‘ave ‘appened when ‘e refused. Or what weel ‘appen now,” Fleur said.

“Merlin!” George cursed suddenly. “We’ve never used contraception.”

“Me either,” Charlie admitted. “I didn’t think of it. And I should have. I always have.”

“Eet eez ze magic, I think,” Fleur said. “Eet eez unlike Beel not to think of it as well.”

“A ritual like that, now that I’m thinking about it, I’m shocked she isn’t pregnant,” Percy mused.

Fleur nodded. “She would ‘ave been but ‘er body eez too depleted. We went to ze ‘ospital today to find out why ze reading was off.”

“You went to the hospital,” Fred said, his tone somewhat questioning.

“Oui,” Fleur agreed.

“But you’re not pregnant, Fleur?”

Her cheeks turned red with anger, “Eet eez not for you to ask, but no. We were waiting for ze end of ze war.”

“Was Ginny with you?” he asked.

“Of course,” Fleur said. “‘Ermione needed her. Like she needs ‘er now. Why are we wasting time weeth an interrogation?”

Fred gave her a quizzical look. “There were pamphlets in Hermione’s hand when she was rummaging through her bag earlier at the library. I didn’t think much of it at the time, didn’t pay attention to what they were. But I realize now they were about pregnancy. And if neither of you are pregnant but Ginny was with you…”

Suddenly Charlie gasped, clearly realizing where Fred was going. Fleur’s now-shuttered look answered the unspoken question better than any words she could have said.

“Merlin fuck,” George swore, catching on as well.

“What?” Bill asked, suddenly looking up from the snog he had been sharing with Hermione.

“Ginny’s up the duff,” Fred proclaimed.

“You told them!?” Hermione exclaimed, whirling to look at Fleur in surprise.

“She didn’t,” Charlie explained, not wanting to see strife between the two women, “Fred figured it out.”

“Wait. How did this happen?” Bill asked, having come to the question faster than the others.

Percy, too, looked confused, though Fred jumped right in. “When two people fall in love—”

Cutting in, Percy said, “I’ve never heard of magic making two women pregnant together. There are Healers working on some method to do it, but—”

Fleur and Hermione exchanged looks. “It happened before the ritual,” Hermione said. “But the ‘who’ isn’t your business until at least he knows.”

“Sweet Merlin, we do have to get her out of there before Mum finds out,” Bill said, decisive now that he wasn’t falling apart under the heavy load Charlie now understood. To think there would be a child, and then that they would have to give it away. Then all the bullshite with Mum.

“We’re taking care of it, Bill,” Hermione said, firm once again. “I’m glad you understand now, but nothing has changed about why it’s best for Fleur and I to be the ones doing it. Charlie, Percy, I thank you for volunteering, but you really don’t have to.”

“I’m not coming along because I have to,” Charlie told her, heading back toward the floo and then bowing to let her pass if she wished to go first.

She did, of course, with Fleur right beside her.

*********************

Ginny sobbed into Harry’s shoulder, grateful that Mum at least didn’t seem to have the energy to stomp up the stairs and force Harry out. Ron was still downstairs trying to calm Molly, though from the screaming shouts, he had only succeeded in getting as angry as she was.

“You know we’ll all be around as much as we can be, Gin,” Harry told her.

“Until she won’t allow that either,” Ginny cried.

He pushed her back a little, squishing her face between his hands. “We won’t just abandon you here. I bet Hermione is already coming up with a plan. Knowing her, you’ll be out of here before you know it.”

“There will be shame for the whole family when that happens. And Mum, there’s no telling what she will do!” Ginny wailed, trying not to let herself slip into hysteria.

“Since when have you cared about the reputation of the family?”

“Since I found out...” Ginny stared up at Harry all of a sudden. She had been about to say since she found out about the baby, but somehow the words stuck in her throat. She couldn’t tell him; she wasn’t ready. “Since I found out we’re a Noble House.”

Harry blinked at her. “I had no idea you cared that much about stuff like that.”

“I didn’t think I did either,” she said miserably, “but now it matters.”

“It’s not your fault,” Harry assured her. “Your Mum is making these choices. If we have to go to ridiculous lengths to get you out of here, it won’t be because you’ve done anything wrong.”

The yelling downstairs cut off. Harry looked worried, but continued to reassure her as they waited to see what was going to happen. Hopefully Ron would be up soon to tell them what was going on.

**************

“Your brothers should never have—” Molly cut off in surprise as her two daughters-in-law appeared from the floo. Two of her older sons joined them, and Molly knew exactly why they had come back. Shaking a spatula at them, she said lowly, “Don’t even think about trying to get Ginny out of here. She’s not going anywhere with the lot of you. She may be the only one I can keep from—”

“Actually you can’t,” Hermione stated clearly. “If anyone controls Ginny, it is me, as her spouse.”

Ron’s jaw dropped, her sweet son, but Percy stepped forward and said, “You can’t deny it, Mum. The law clearly states—”

She had heard enough of that hippogriff shite. “Ginny is still a child and you can’t just come in here and take her from me.”

“We can,” Hermione stated again.

“And we weell. Ginny deed nothing to deserve being trapped here,” Fleur added.

Hermione, the little harlot, said, “I wish it hadn’t come to this, but it has and we won’t abandon her here when you clearly intend to mistreat her.”

“I would never!” Molly shouted at them, taking in the way Charlie stood behind the two women with his arms crossed, a silent statement that he would stand with them. At least her William wasn’t here. Or the twins. They must understand how wrong this whole situation was.

Fleur glared at her. “She eez locked away een ‘er room, oui? Zis eez not ‘ow a family should be treated.”

Molly’s fury was almost overwhelming as she said, “Fine. Just see if you can leave with her. You think being her keeper now is enough to counteract my magic? That because I’m just a little housewife I can’t make wards strong enough that she will still be able to leave?” Fleur disappeared up the stairs with a haughty look.

“Mum, if you try to keep her here against her wife’s wishes, they would have to bring in the Aurors. It’s illegal,” Percy spoke up.

Dear Percy, determined as always to follow the law no matter what. Molly wanted to shake him. She told him, “Then I’ll discuss it with Kingsley and I’m sure he’ll understand why she must stay here instead of with people who will lead her astray.”

“You would tell Kingsley about us?” Percy asked, shock radiating from him.

For a moment Molly paused. Of course she didn’t want the rest of the wizarding world to know. But this was a threat she could leverage. She just couldn’t let them know how much she was unwilling to tell even someone she trusted like Kingsley. “I absolutely will,” she threatened.

Percy looked like he was going to be ill, but Charlie said, “You wouldn’t. And you won’t.”

“You don’t get to tell me—” Molly started, but the tart cut her off.

“Kingsley would know the law, and would furthermore understand the need for discretion. It will be the last straw for any of us being here or seeing you if you go to him about this. Our family’s secrets are not yours to share without our consent,” Hermione said steadily. They all nodded along, even Ron.

Molly felt sick now. “You do not get to dictate my family,” she said to the girl.

“They are my family, too, and nor will you get to dictate their lives,” Hermione told her. It felt like a physical blow.

Fleur came down the stairs with Ginny carrying a duffel presumably of her things. Harry was behind them.

In tears, Molly watched her children and those two women try different methods of stealing her baby away. She was feeling smug about their lack of progress when Fleur rolled up her sleeves and pulled her wand.

Of course she knew it wouldn’t be as impressive as her Bill could do, but Molly did look forward to the excellent use of magic the girl might try to get Ginny free. Shock rocked through her when Fleur quickly and easily tore the wards to shreds.

It allowed Hermione to take Ginny by the arm and floo her away to the twins’ flat. Neither of them even said goodbye. Charlie left the same way, not a word, just there to protect.

Fleur turned to her before leaving. “Do not ever think zat I am not powerful just because I choose not to use eet on you, Molly. I weel do what eez necessary to protect our family. Eet would ‘urt Beel far less eef you were part of zat family, but only you can decide eet.”

The woman’s eyes found Percy’s and for a moment, Molly was sure he would abandon her, too. But he shook his head at Fleur and said, “I think I’m needed more here.”

“We’ll help him take care of Mum,” Ron added, “Won’t we, Harry?”

Harry looked conflicted, but nodded. “Yeah. I know Gin’s in good hands. We can be here for Mrs. Weasley.”

Molly was both grateful and infuriated that these children thought she was going to just fall apart now. That it was true didn’t help the way she felt at all as she watched her eldest child’s first wife spin away in the floo. He had two of them now. Somehow, it was that fact that broke her and made her wail out her grief and fury on the three boys still at home.

************

Charlie felt like he might explode with relief as he followed Hermione and Ginny back to the twins’ flat. He had known the women would pull off the rescue just fine with or without him, but he hadn’t been able to live with the idea of not being there to back them up, back her up. Hermione.

That being separated from her a moment longer was intolerable was another reason, one that she didn’t need to know. He was just grateful that the whole episode had gone off relatively easily and Mum hadn’t tried to curse anyone.

Ginny was okay, Hermione and Fleur were okay. They were all safe.

Bill looked incredibly relieved, hugging Ginny tightly, when Charlie stepped into the room. The twins were crowding around her, too.

Hermione stood off to the side, looking quietly pleased. Charlie found himself drifting toward her. When she happily slid her arms around him, he relaxed against her, letting go of the tension of the past couple of hours.

“Thank you for being there,” Hermione said.

“I didn’t do anything, barely spoke,” he downplayed.

“Your presence was enough. Having you at my back always makes me feel stronger,” she told him, burying her nose in his neck and inhaling in a way that made Charlie shiver.

He wanted to tell her again how much he was looking forward to having her with him in Romania tomorrow night, but he was afraid the constant repetition of that fact would get annoying.

Instead, Charlie said, “You make me strong as well, Draga.”

Hermione laughed. “You’re already strong.”

“I’ve never stood up to Mum like that before, not even silently. You gave me the courage to do it.”

She shook her head. “And hopefully there has never been another situation where it was really needed.”

“Not like this,” he admitted. “But there were times I made up emergencies and ran rather than make her hear me.”

“I’m glad you’re making the effort to stay and face things,” Hermione said, nibbling along his neck now.

“It’s not easy, but you’re worth it,” his voice rumbled with contentment, almost like a cat purring. Merlin, she was everything.

Fred cleared his throat. “You get her tomorrow night. She’s ours tonight.”

Ginny pouted. “I need time with her.”

“You had all day,” Fred pointed out. George looked hesitant, but nodded as well. Their need for her must be intense.

“It’s been a rough day,” Ginny said softly. It was probably the softness that did it. He could see Fred caving with each word.

“You can stay here at the flat tonight, Gin,” Fred told her. This time George agreed far more enthusiastically.

Charlie had to bite his tongue to keep from asking if he could, too.

He was hoping the twins would offer — he certainly didn’t fancy going back to the Burrow for the night — but it was Bill who clapped his hand on Charlie’s shoulder and suggested, “You can come to Shell Cottage tonight. I need to talk to you anyway.”

Charlie tried not to feel sad as he gathered Hermione closer into his arms and whispered, “I missed you last night.” It had been the first night that he hadn’t spent at least in the same room with her if not touching her. He hadn’t slept well and his skin crawled at the thought of another night away from her. But he wasn’t one of her soulbound, and they had a greater need for her, no matter what Hermione tried to say about equality.

He couldn’t think about it. The idea of being excluded from the soulbonding made him feel like throwing up. It was stupid and childish, Charlie knew, but he wanted it so badly that he couldn’t cope with thoughts of the bond she had with the twins.

Clenching his fists in her hair, Charlie kissed Hermione for all he was worth as he clung to her. The poor girl was absolutely breathless when he finally released her. But Merlin, the promises in her eyes. He couldn’t wait to get her to his cabin in Romania.

Bill gave her a quick peck, just as Percy had before he left. Fleur, however, kissed Hermione almost as passionately as Charlie had before the three of them flooed away together.

As soon as they were in Shell Cottage, Bill went to the cabinet where Charlie knew they kept the alcohol. “Do not overdo eet, mon amour,” Fleur said. “I weel leave you two to talk.”

With that, Charlie and Bill were alone for the first time in months. His relationship with Bill had always been easy, nearly as close as the twins were with one another. Lately, it wasn't that it was strained, just that with the war, there hadn’t been time to maintain it. There was so much between them to discuss that Charlie didn’t know where to start.

“You can barely function without her,” Bill said without preamble. “Do you have any idea why?”

Charlie blinked at the bluntness. It didn’t seem like Bill, but then he recognized the protectiveness and it made sense. “No. I feel that way, but I have no idea why my bond with her is so tight. I’m worried about what will happen when I try to go to work at Hogwarts if she’s not there, too. I can’t imagine being away from her more than a day or two at a time.”

“I wish Mum had more information for us, that there was someone to explain—”

“We found some things while researching earlier today. Hermione thinks it’s something to do with some of the bonds remaining unsealed and possibly with Ron refusing her blood. Like he’s not tied but it makes the rest of us more tied to her somehow.”

“Merlin, that will be a lot of arithmancy to figure out for sure,” Bill said with a low whistle.

Charlie nodded. “Hermione said something similar. We have a list of possible professionals Hermione is going to owl.”

“I hope one of them is Bancroft Addsley. The man is a genius arithmancer,” Bill said. “No matter what else we find out about bonds, we could use his skills.”

“The name doesn’t sound familiar,” Charlie said.

Bill arched an eyebrow at him. “Hang out with a lot of arithmancers these days?”

“Well no,” Charlie admitted, rolling his eyes a little.

“I’ll confirm with Hermione, but if not, I’ll contact him. He owes me a small favor. And I can bargain for a bigger one.”

“Don’t you owe enough right now?” Charlie asked worriedly, thinking about the goblins and their demands.

“I don’t think Addsley would ask for my firstborn,” Bill quipped with a sardonic grin.

Charlie shook his head. “What the fuck would the goblins do with a human baby anyway?”

“They want to raise it as their own. There’s a prophecy, concerning a child born of a ritual like the one we did. Might destroy the goblin nation unless it is raised properly. Of course the prophecy doesn’t say what “properly” is, so they might be doing it wrong by taking the poor bugger from its parents,” Bill was drinking fast enough that his words were already starting to slur a bit. Charlie unobtrusively moved the bottle away from him.

“If it ever happens at all,” Charlie said, thinking how lucky they were that Hermione wasn’t pregnant. “Do you think they will still want your firstborn — even if it’s not from the ritual? Or even from Hermione?” He glanced down the hall toward the bedroom Fleur had disappeared into.

“I can’t predict anything else they might do. It hit me out of nowhere when they demanded the baby,” Bill admitted. “I was already in a shite place with them. Now I’m fucking scared.”

“There’s got to be something we can do to help,” Charlie said.

“You could help with it, but got to talk to the women. They always know what’s going on. Dragons,” Bill said, his words not making much sense.

“All right, bedtime for you, big brother,” Charlie told him, laughing. “Fleur can fill me in on how the dragons can help in the morning, though I personally think the solution might be having them eat the damn goblins.”

***********

Hermione finally felt like she could relax now that it was just herself, Ginny, and the twins. She needed Fred and George touching her, had needed it all day, even with the small touches here and there. The neediness made her feel like a parasite, but it had been a very emotional day.

“We could stay up for a while if you wish, love,” Fred offered.

George continued, “Or go to bed if you would rather.”

“Do I get a say?” Ginny asked.

“No,” George said with a grin. Ginny stuck her tongue out at him.

“Could we stay up but just snuggle on the sofa?” she asked. It seemed silly, but what Hermione wanted most was to just feel normal for a little while, to feel like she was able to exist without the world falling apart around her.

“Anything you want,” George readily agreed.

She went to change into one of their old Quidditch jerseys and a pair of sleep shorts while the other three changed into their pajamas as well.

Soon, they were situated there together, with Hermione leaned against George while Fred rubbed her feet, unasked. She felt like she was in heaven. She had widened the sofa with a bit of transfiguration and Ginny was curled into her side. Her brothers seemed to be ignoring her presence as best they could.

It was peaceful and, maybe not exactly what she had hoped for with Ginny there, too, but then again, the more people she had touching her, the more balanced Hermione felt. She thought about the research they had done earlier, hating that it had intruded on her thoughts. But there it was, ever present in her life.

“Do you think I have to seal my bond with Ron and Percy to feel balanced?” she asked.

“Please tell me we’re not talking about you with our brothers while we have a night with you,” Fred complained somewhat jokingly.

“Especially when we already have to share you with our sister,” George said. Hermione could tell he was trying for playful, but his tone fell a little flat, more sad than playful. She realized, for George, this was just another time his needs were being set behind everyone else’s.

Decisively, she said, “Fred, Ginny, I promised George some time alone, and he’s going to get it tonight.”

“But—” Ginny and Fred both started at once.

George, blushing, tried to say, “You don’t have to—”

“It doesn’t have to be right this second, but it’s happening,” Hermione said, gently but firmly. This wasn’t negotiable. Fred had his time already. And she had been with Ginny all day. Perhaps after her wife went to bed would be best. Judging from the yawns, that wouldn’t be far off.

“Fine,” Fred said, dropping her foot and turning away.

“What’s your problem?” Ginny asked. She would have sounded demanding if she hadn’t yawned halfway through.

“Nothing,” Fred snapped but George shook his head.

“If you won’t tell them, I will,” he told his twin. Hermione felt a thick sense of foreboding. There was something bad going on. It explained the feelings she had occasionally noticed from the twins throughout the day.

“Angelina’s funeral has been planned. It’s three days from now. They have her body in stasis until some family can travel in. I… can you come with me, Hermione, please?” Fred begged.

“Of course, Fred. I would be honored to go, but… do you think it will be okay with her family, for me to be there with you?”

Fred nodded. “They know we’re married. When they owled to let me know the arrangements, they mentioned you coming as well.”

He looked close to tears and Hermione found herself pulling him close. She still wasn’t backing down on George getting some time, but while they were all together, she could comfort Fred.

“Would talking about her help?”

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “Maybe. She was just such a force. Words don’t do her justice.”

“Try,” Hermione encouraged. She noticed that George was practically holding his breath. He must have tried talking to Fred about this earlier. Though if George couldn’t get through to his twin, she had no idea how she might. But she could feel Fred’s distress and sorrow pounding through the bond and she had to at least do what she could for him.

“Well she was fit,” Fred started, “That wasn’t the most important thing but… it’s the easiest. She was everything a Gryffindor should be. Ballsy and brave. Merlin, was she brave. But she… she was also loyal, to the girls, to us. We used to tease her about being a Hufflepuff because she was so loyal. If she weren’t… if she weren’t so damn loyal she might have…” He dissolved into sobs against Hermione.

As she ran her fingers through Fred’s hair, she realized George was crying silently and pulled him closer with her other arm, bringing the three of them together. She was thankful that, instead of looking disgruntled, Ginny was patting George’s back with a sympathetic look and her own set of tears. She may not have known Angelina as well as her brothers, but the girl had been a constant in all their lives for a very long time.

For a long while, the four of them snuggled there on the sofa, Hermione and Ginny doing their best to comfort the twins. Fred cried so hard for a time that Hermione thought he would make himself sick, the grief coming through their bond making her nearly sick. As she pulled George to her, she wondered if he was as overwhelmed by Fred’s grief as she was or if part of what she was feeling was his, too. It was probably both of them.

“How,” she choked out when she couldn’t take it anymore. “How have the two of you managed when you’re both badly hurting? With your twin bond, I mean?”

Fred just burrowed his face tighter into her chest, but George pulled back slightly. After a moment, some of the feeling of drowning in grief cleared. Hermione could breathe again, her emotions still sad, but not so overwhelming. Fred gave a small sob almost of relief as well.

“What did you do?” she asked, astounded.

“It’s sort of like a shield on the bond,” George explained. “It’s something Fred and I worked out when we were young. If we forget, our emotions become something like a feedback loop when we’re feeling something similar. The trouble is that when things are so heightened, it’s hard to remember to block it out.”

“Can you teach me?” Hermione begged. She needed relief from the bond. George cutting himself out of it helped, but she now knew that the deepest grief was indeed from Fred and it was still horrid. She couldn’t help him when she was so deeply in it as well.

George looked perplexed for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I think I can. Close your eyes, love.”

Listening intently, Hermione did as he told her, focusing on his voice as George continued speaking.

“Now, I know it is hard, but do what you can to separate yourself from Fred’s emotions. I visualize it like I’m pulling myself out of a fog. Can you do that?”

Hermione worked hard to see it that way. Pulling herself out felt more like dragging herself from a swamp, but it happened slowly. “Yes, but I can’t hold it very long.” Her voice was shaking from the mental effort.

“Now build a wall, a shield to keep those emotions on the other side. You’ll still be able to see them, but they won’t consume you,” George explained.

Slowly, Hermione worked to do as he said, George’s soothing voice talking her through the process of building. She could still physically feel Fred crying and she was aware of his feelings through the bond, but she didn’t feel them as though they were her own.

Relief flooded her as Hermione finished her wall and slumped back against the sofa, exhausted but feeling triumphant.

“It will be easier next time since it’s already been built once. Now you just need to slide it into place when you want it,” George assured her. “You should practice when things are calmer. That makes it easier, too.”

Hermione sighed happily. “Why didn’t we do this before?”

“There hasn’t been time to teach you until now. Or a need so strong.”

He looked to Fred, who was no longer making any sound. Hermione realized suddenly that his breathing had evened out, that he had cried himself to sleep. George smiled softly, rubbing a hand along his twins’ back.

Ginny whispered, “I can watch him if you like.”

Even though she was very quiet, Hermione and George startled, having forgotten she was there while they were so focused inward on the bond.

“Why would you need to—” George started.

“We would appreciate that very much,” Hermione said at the same time.

George gave her a confused look and Hermione had to refrain from rolling her eyes. “You and I get time tonight, remember?” she prompted him.

Ginny started laughing quietly. “I can take your place if you don’t want—”

“I want it… her… you, Hermione,” George tripped over his words in his haste to get them out.

Hermione smiled at him and simply said, “Good,” as she rose from the sofa, gently settling Fred down, and held a hand out to George instead.

**********

For some reason, George was more nervous than he could have imagined as they made their way to the bedroom. He attempted to talk himself out of it. For Merlin’s sake, he had shagged her before. Just because this time would be just the two of them didn’t mean he should get shy about it now.

But shy was how he felt.

Hermione, thankfully, seemed to have none of that bashfulness. She led him down the hallway, looking back at him with heat in her eyes multiple times. George hadn’t known he would be able to read her so well in such a short period of time, but Merlin, he could.

Somehow, the burden of all that grief they had shared, when lightened, had resulted in desire. She wasn’t alone in it either, though George wondered if maybe his bond-blocking walls weren’t quite strong enough where Hermione was concerned. The feel of her was still new and exciting. He didn’t truly want to block her out.

Setting all of that inside as they entered the bedroom, George reached for her. Hermione was immediately in his arms, her lips meeting his with urgency. His own need intensified as their lips pressed together and his parted on a moan, letting her tongue in to explore.

He was finding it hard to breathe when George paused, pulling back from her, panting. “Let’s… I love this, but… I wanted it slow and…”

“Yes?” Hermione asked, watching him closely.

“I…um…” Merlin, why was this so hard to say? “I wanted us to make love more than just…”

“Having sex?” Hermione finished for him. “I’m sorry I was pushing too hard.”

“No! You weren’t. It’s silly. Not like we haven’t been together before, so—”

Hermione shook her head. “It’s not silly, George. It’s okay to want something. And… it’s okay to want the emotional side of things between us.”

George could tell by her expression that this was hard for her to say, too. It made him feel a little more okay — that this wasn’t easy for her either. He bit his lip. “But what do you want?” he asked her.

She laughed. “Right now I’m horny and I want to throw you on the bed and have my way with you,” she admitted with a grin and a blush. “But I wasn’t considering how you would prefer things to be.”

His body reacted to her statement even as George himself debated how to handle this. “There is nothing I would like more than to have you in charge if that’s what you want. Just…”

“With love?” she asked, coming closer again. He nodded, suddenly unable to get words out as he watched her.

This time, she moved more slowly, her eyes focused on his. As she approached, Hermione peeled her shirt over her head, surprising him by being bare underneath it. Her eyes snapped straight back to his the moment the shirt was on the ground as she slid right up to him, her hands going to his chest and playing with the buttons on his pajamas.

When he tried to raise his hands to her breasts, her eyes rebuked him as her hands pushed his down to his sides. George gulped. She meant that about having her way with him apparently — and it was so much hotter than he could have ever imagined.

Hermione leaned forward and softly put her lips on his. As George started to deepen the kiss, however, she pulled away just enough to brush to the side, her lips pressing tiny kisses along his jawline to his ear.

As her tongue wound it’s way along the outer rim of his ear, leaving George gasping, Hermione’s fingers had made their way back to his buttons, deftly unfastening them until his shirt gaped open. He wasn’t hiding anything she hadn’t seen before, but George somehow felt exposed anyway. He shivered with anticipation.

By his ear, Hermione whispered, “Are you cold, love?”

“N-no,” he responded immediately, shivering again at the caress of her tone when she called him ‘love.’

“Oh,” she said, voice playful, “So you just like it when I acknowledge who you are to me? My love? Or is it when you know I’m in charge? When I’m going to do what I want with you because you, George, belong to me?”

He fully shuddered at that, just as she pushed the shirt from his shoulders and pressed her chest against his as she backed him toward the bed.

He wasn’t sure if he was capable of speaking, but when she looked at him with hooded eyes and asked, “Or should I stop?” he hastily shook his head.

“No. Please do what you want with me,” George managed.

She ran one hand across his chest and up to cup his cheek as she gently stroked his abs with the other hand, her fingers just barely brushing under the band of his pajama trousers. His trousers tented out, doing nothing to hide how this was affecting him. George gasped when she began kissing down his neck.

George wanted to move again, to bring her lips back up to his, but he was aware, so aware, that he needed to do what she said. So he managed to stay still even as her body pressed close to his, undulating against him as her lips traced downward.

Hermione licked across one of George’s nipples, drawing a moan from him and painting goose-pimples across his skin. She smiled up at him, looking like the cat who got the cream as she did it again and George shuddered. Her hands were running down his hips now, teasing as she stayed away from the center of his body.

“Do you want something more? Do you want me to show you how much I love your body, George?” she asked, her eyes staring deeply into his.

His body was quivering in response. He felt practically virginal the way he was responding as though he had never been through this before. George couldn’t find his voice to speak, so he just nodded.

For a long moment, he thought she wouldn’t accept it, that he would be required to say something instead or punished for not speaking in the first place. Instead, her hands came back to the waistband of his trousers and gently lifted it over his hard cock, exposing him as she pushed his pants off as well.

That her eyes never left his as she slowly began to swirl her tongue along his length. This made George throb, his cock getting harder as she went to work, worshiping him with her mouth.

Unable to contain himself, George’s hands went to the back of her head, his thumbs stroking her temples as he hissed, “Yes…”

A moment of almost-fear spiked through him at the thought she might stop, might reprimand him for moving his hands when she had said no. But she continued, her tongue swirling around him even as her lips and mouth suctioned around his cock, driving George mad with desire.

He thought he might explode before suddenly, she pushed at him and he let go of her head, leaving his cock straining for more as she pulled away from him. George was relieved when she pushed him down onto the bed, shoved her own sleep trousers and knickers off and climbed onto the bed next to him.

Before he could say a word, Hermione rolled so that her naked body was pressed against his, not coming to a full stop until she was hovering over him, staring down into his eyes. George was afraid he might come just from the eye-contact, it was so intensely intimate. And when she began softly kissing him, her wet pussy rubbing against his thigh, so close but not where he needed her, George was certain he would lose his mind.

He was ready to beg, but didn’t have to. Hermione moved boldly, taking his cock in one hand and carefully guiding it so that she could slide her body down on him. She grabbed her wand for just a moment to chant the contraception charm, then set it down and focused back on him.

Her movements were slow, her eyes back on his as she rocked. George knew there was no way he would last long but he was going to enjoy every second of it until then. Levering himself, he began to thrust up, meeting her every move. He watched her eyelashes flutter, unable to hold them on his eyes and eliciting a low moan from her. George smiled at the fact he was getting to her, too.

She didn’t argue when he fit his hands at her hips to help guide her movements, nor did she complain when one hand moved between her legs, his thumb keeping time on her clit. When Hermione screamed above him, he lasted two more erratic thrusts before spilling inside her. She collapsed on his chest, a sweet smile on her face as she gazed up at him.

Long minutes passed before either of them could breathe enough to speak.

“You mean so much to me, George,” Hermione said, reaching a hand out to play in his short hair.

He could feel himself blushing as he said, “You don’t have to say that.”

“I didn’t say it because I had to,” she told him.

George felt the words in his heart, echoing through the bond between them. His throat tightened at how strongly she felt for him and he sincerely hoped she could feel it back.

Her hand was on his chest and he didn’t know when it had gotten there, but he put one hand on top of it, and the other on her heart.

“Of all my… what’s the plural of spouse? Spouses? You—”

“I vote for Spice, myself. You have a plethora of spice in your life,” George interrupted with an eyebrow waggle that would have made Fred proud.

Hermione laughed. “Spice it is, then. Of all my spice, you are the peacemaker, the one I know will try to calm things down and help the situation rather than make it worse. I love that you’re like that, George. Almost as much as I just love you.”

“Which comes close to how much I love you and that enormous heart of yours,” he told her. “I can’t think of anyone else who would love all of us the way you do, magical nudging or not. We are so lucky it was you, love.”

Now it was her turn to blush and roll her eyes. “I did what was needed. I could never have let the worst happen to you and Fred.”

George couldn’t help the smile on his face as he pulled her close and pulled up the blankets. It was good to finally have time for the two of them and, sleepy or not, he wasn’t about to give her up. Fred would undoubtedly join them later, maybe Ginny, too, but for now, he had his girl to himself and he was keeping her in his arms as they fell asleep.

Chapter 23

Notes:

TWO MONTHS????? I'm so sorry, folks. I really didn't mean to leave this for so long. Thank you to LoveWithMagic for making me realize how long it had been and kicking this to the top of my writing pile!

Warning: There is some Ronmione going on in this chapter. It's not going to go the way they think it will, but if you absolutely can't stand to read it, I will summarize in the end notes.

Thank you to my alpha Lady WinterLight, beta Astrangefan, and FaeOrabel for an assist with sexy talk because I just can't get my smut mind going lately.

Ron was pleased. More than pleased, really. The Press Conference had been brilliant! By the end, people were cheering for Minister Shacklebolt just as excitedly as they had for Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

What Ron loved most about it was how it had felt when the other two deferred questions and things to him, letting him take over as the voice of the Trio. He hadn’t been as eloquent as Hermione would have been — and she had stepped in once or twice to clarify things — but Ron had protected her from having to say much. And Harry was ecstatic over how little he had been required to say.

Meanwhile, Ron had gotten the crowd to laugh and cheer and had them excited over the things the Minister spoke about, his plans for the wizarding world’s future. Kingsley had clapped him on the back after, telling him what a great job he had done and how much he appreciated it. Ron knew his skin was nearly as red as his hair, but he was too happy to care.

On the way back to the Minister’s office, there were many, many people trying to talk to them, but at least within the Ministry itself, it wasn’t as bad as out in the streets. Ron had been having nightmares about the crowd that had surrounded them in Diagon Alley when they had gone out previously. Amongst the many other nightmares from the war. Some nights it seemed like there were nothing but nightmares to be had.

“Come on now!” Kingsley boomed as they stepped inside the office of the Minister. “Thank you, Ron, Harry, and Hermione for making this press conference a success. Now, let’s get to know one another.”

A number of high-ranking Ministry workers had followed them into the Minister’s Office, department heads and their secretaries, Ron thought. Percy undoubtedly knew them all, but Ron didn’t and was more than okay to leave it that way.

Though, if he was serious about continuing to take the limelight, being the figurehead for the Trio, he might need to know them. That was a worry for another day, though; he tried to pay attention as Kingsley quickly made introductions around the circle of people. The Minister was more focused on introducing Harry than Ron, but that was okay. It allowed him to observe more.

He noticed the balding Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was sweating, and he seemed nervous. Of course, considering his department, perhaps that was his usual state of being.

The Head for Magical Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was barely holding back a grimace at them, muttering about the dangers of dragons. Perhaps Ron had been around Charlie and Hermione too long, but he instantly disliked the man.

The Department Head of Magical Games and Sports wasn’t as jovial as Ludo Bagman had been, but he did seem easily excitable. Magical Transportation looked bored. The Head Unspeakable was impossible to read, what little of his face could be seen. International Magical Cooperation looked almost as serious as the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, who was coordinating with their Head Auror. Ron made sure to look sharp and salute when his soon-to-be bosses looked his way.

There was nothing as important to Ron right now as making a good impression within the department. He sharpened his focus and tried to memorize everyone’s names and positions.

Still, he was grateful when the three of them were able to shift off to a corner alone to talk. They obviously felt that way as well, especially Hermione.

Looking worried, she asked, “How was your morning? Was Molly—”

“Surprisingly pleasant,” Harry answered before she could finish the question. “I was expecting a confrontation this morning, but she just made us breakfast and talked a lot about how the Burrow would always be our home.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, and Ron knew Harry shouldn’t have been quite so open about that last bit. He held up his hands. “I know she has to live with the consequences of what she’s done, Mione, but she truly just wants us to think of it as home. I was just relieved that she didn’t make a big fuss before we got out of there.”

“Will you go back tonight?” Hermione asked.

Ron ran his hands over his face. “I have no idea. You’ll be in Romania, right? So it’s not as if we’ll be picking her over you.”

She had that look in her eyes when she said, “This isn’t about me, Ronald. It’s about the whole family. And Ginny needs all the support she can get.”

Harry looked tremendously guilty. “I’ll stay with Gin tonight. I probably should have last night. I just—”

“It was fine, Harry. She was with me. But I do think she could use you with her tonight. If it’s not too uncomfortable.”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think it will be. Something has… shifted again. I noticed when I was comforting her yesterday after Mrs. Weasley trapped her.”

“You can be together again?” Hermione asked, excited.

“I’m not sure,” Harry said, “But something is different.”

Hermione bit her lip as though there was something she wanted to say, but they were interrupted by Percy before she could say anything.

“I’m to escort the three of you home,” he said.

“Where is that?” Hermione asked him, half commanding and half forlorn.

Ron noticed that the look Percy gave her was sympathetic, as though he too knew what it was like to be without that sense of home. Which, Ron supposed, wasn’t too far from the truth.

“It can be wherever you like, just not within the Ministry,” Percy said gently.

“Well the Burrow is out,” Ron stated flatly. He wasn’t keen on seeing Hermione more upset by his Mum. Or vice versa if he was being honest.

“We could go to the twins’ flat,” Hermione suggested tentatively. It was clear she wasn’t entirely comfortable with that without Fred and George with her.

“It makes the most sense as a home since they’re your official husbands,” Percy agreed.

Harry stepped forward. “How about Grimmauld? I inherited it. It’s not the most hospitable, but we can work on it.”

“Won’t Kreacher—” Hermione began.

“No,” Harry said as he shook his head. “Kreacher died in the battle. I buried him after. We’ll have the entire mess of it to ourselves.”

Ron laughed humorlessly, thinking of the summer before fifth year and all the work Mum had made them do. It was undoubtedly a mess again even if Death Eaters hadn’t destroyed it after they left during their year on the run. “Have you been there since—”

“No,” Harry told him.

“Are there beds there?” Percy asked suddenly.

“Same as before, I imagine,” Harry stated. “Why?”

“Hermione and I… I’ll explain when we get there. Come along,” Percy tutted, not waiting for them to ask any further questions.

The walk back through to the floos in the lobby was nearly as arduous as it had been the first two times, though some of the crowd had cleared out now. Ron wasn’t too happy that they had been forced to go back to the Minister’s office at all, but he didn’t say anything.

“Harry, I remember where it is, but I think it would be best if you as the owner floo in first,” Percy suggested. Nodding, Harry did just that with the rest of them following a moment later.

Grimmauld was absolutely the worst case scenario mess they had expected. Nearly everything was destroyed, the Death Eaters having apparently taken out their fury on the furniture when the Trio escaped them. Hermione cried when she saw the library, books strewn everywhere, some even torn.

Ron shook his head at his friend’s priorities, as he had done many times before, but Percy put his arms around Hermione and whispered in her ear. Then, with a few flicks of his wrist, books were flying through the air and dust disappearing in an instant. When he was done, there was a pile by the door of ruined books and furniture pieces that would need to be disposed of, but the vast majority of the books were reshelved and the massive desk that sat in the middle of the room barely had a mark on it. The room looked almost livable.

Turning, Percy said, “Ron, why don’t you go find Harry and get a couple of the bedrooms in order.”

“Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you get to boss me about!” Ron protested. Who did Percy think he was coming into Harry’s house and making demands?

“I think I have business with our wife. And don’t go too far because there’s business with you when I’m done.”

“I hope it’s not the same kind of business,” Ron stated, giving his brother a disgusted look.

Percy rolled his eyes. “You will have business with Hermione after I do.”

“What—”

With a sigh, Percy leaned against the desk. Addressing Hermione, he said, “Charlie and I were talking yesterday. He and I, all of us really, are concerned about how you’ll manage in Romania with only him there. We think the bonds all need to be sealed first.”

“Which means—” Hermione gasped.

“Myself. And Ron. This afternoon before you go,” Percy said matter-of-factly.

Ron felt stunned. That wasn’t possible for them. “Perce, you know Hermione and I aren’t like—”

“You’ll figure out the mechanics, I’m sure,” Percy told him.

“But we’re just friends,” Hermione said, sounding horrified enough that Ron felt momentarily offended before he considered the reality of what Percy wanted them to do.

“What’s the muggle phrase? Friends with benefits? You’re not repelled by one another. I have faith you can do this. All you have to do is seal the bond and you can be done,” he said in a tone that was so reassuring Ron had to look up to be sure it came from Percy.

“I… okay,” Ron agreed.

“Great,” Percy said. “Now get out. And close the door behind you.”

“Just like that?” Ron asked.

“Just like that,” Percy confirmed. “While you’re out there, prepare a bedroom.”

***********

Hermione felt her stomach flip as she heard the rich tone of Percy’s words. “Prepare a bedroom.” She wanted to be furious at his heavy-handedness, but she had been worried about the trip as well, honestly. And how could she be angry when her body was reacting to his voice and just the thought of those toe-curling kisses he gave her?

Percy turned and stared at her. His eyes were darker than usual as he walked toward her like a hungry panther.

Merlin, he was still across the room, and she was starting to feel wet. All she could think of was how good his lips always felt and then they were there on her, aggressively possessing her. Only, he didn’t stop his movement forward when they collided, merely flexed his exposed forearms — she almost moaned as she realized he had rolled up his sleeves — and scooped her up in his momentum until he had her pressed against the bookshelf.

Before she knew what was happening, Hermione’s blouse was unbuttoned and her legs were pushed apart, his thigh between them. He wasn’t muscular like Charlie was, but it still felt so good to grind against him, the friction burning into her. “Percy,” she managed as his kisses started moving down her neck and shoulders instead of on her mouth. “Percy, please, I need more.”

“Already?” he asked with a low laugh. “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me and do what I say?”

Hermione’s breath caught. Merlin, yes. Yes she did want that, but she really didn’t want to say so. Instead, she nodded at him.

“No, little girl,” he admonished. “You have to use your words. I need to know exactly what you want and how much of it you desire. No ambiguity.”

It was wrong that being called a little girl made her wetter, wasn’t it? Gasping for air when he pushed his thigh a little harder against her, Hermione finally said, “Please, Percy. Please may I—”

“Sir. You call me sir when it’s just the two of us,” he told her.

His eyes bored into hers until she had to look down while she mumbled, “Yes, Sir.”

“Speak up,” he ordered.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, not trying to hide it now.

He beamed at her in a way she could only call sinful. “Good girl,” he told her and Hermione whimpered with lust.

Percy laughed at her again, that low husky laugh that she was quickly realizing drove her wild. “Good girl,” he praised again. “Now what do you want from me?”

“I… I want you to touch me,” she said, almost begging.

“Where would you like to be touched?” he asked, not making it at all easy for her.

Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled, “Everywhere.”

“Like here?” Percy asked as he ran his fingers lightly down from her neck and through the valley between her breasts.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“And here?” he asked, running his fingertips along the top of the lace that showcased her breasts. She answered him and they continued the game.

Pulling roughly at one of her nipples, he asked again. When she gave him consent, he did it again to the other one. Motioning to her stomach, he waited once more and then ran a finger along her ribs, dipping it into her belly button and then tracing the point where her hips jutted out. He yanked on the hem of her skirt and lifted it when he received a nod.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing these anymore,” he said, tugging at her knickers. “Can I remove them?”

“Yes, Sir,” Hermione replied breathily. In an instant, the knickers were gone, magicked away and she was bare to him.

Hermione watched as his eyes nearly burned a hole into her core. Licking his lips, he reached for her, his eyes glancing toward hers until she nodded.

“Use your words, little one,” he breathed.

“Yes, gods, please yes,” Hermione moaned.

His finger and then thumb rubbed her clit. Fingers finding her soaking wet by playing with her slit, he swiped through the liquid and then finally, finally sunk his fingers into her with a deep squelching sound.

Hermione moaned for him, unable to contain herself as he progressed. Percy, for his part, seemed thrilled that he had her enthusiastic consent to everything. Even when he pressed at the little rosebud of her arse, Hermione didn’t protest. She only panted harder and told him he could have every bit of her if he would just let her come.

Percy looked like the cat who got the cream when he inexplicably stepped away from her. “I’m glad you’re so desperate, little girl. I think you’re going to be very good for me… eventually. But you’re not quite ready yet, not desperate enough.”

“But—” she protested, knowing how whiny she sounded. “You said we needed to bond—”

“And we do. But we’re going to accomplish it a different way, or at least try.”

“Different?” she asked, barely able to hear her own voice.

“Come here,” he commanded, backing away and then walking over to the library table. “You’re going to get to come, but you’ll follow my instructions to do so.”

“Your instr— Yes, Sir,” she agreed despite her inclination to argue.

“Nice catch,” he said, “But not quick enough.”

Percy spun her around, put her hands on the library table, then pressed his body close, hovering over her.

“When you argue with me, you disobey me, and you’ll have to be punished. I can get very creative with my punishments, little girl,” he said straight into her ear from behind, his voice so dark and low that it sent a shiver down Hermione’s spine.

He flipped her skirt up once more, then laid one hand against her arse, kneading it to be sure she was paying attention. “I would start by putting my handprint right here.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, finding she didn’t even want to say anything else.

“You like that image?” Percy asked, with a low, dark chuckle.

“Y-yes, Sir,” Hermione answered before she could lose her nerve.

Leaning down, Percy kissed along her spine as he said, “Sadly, we have to discuss it more thoroughly first.”

“What?” she asked, her senses crying for him as Percy pulled away. “Why?”

“On the table,” he told her as he spun her back around and put his large hands around her waist. He teased her skin as he picked her up and splayed her out on the table, staring up at him in helpless awe. She had no idea Percy was so strong, or that he could be so commanding. Though she thought of the book he had given her and shivered in nervous anticipation.

“Now, you’re going to play with yourself for me,” he told her. “I want to watch every movement, every flick, every swipe, every thrust of your fingers. I want to see your face as you bring yourself closer and closer to ecstasy. I want to see how quickly and slowly you rub your clit, and when you decide to change speeds. Every move you make will be seared into my mind and stored in my memories. I may use it against you later without you even realizing I picked up on it.”

“What will you do?” she asked, voice trembling with desire.

Percy grinned at her. “I’m going to watch. Now touch yourself. One hand on your cunt and the other pulling on your own nipples like I was doing. I know how much you like it,” Percy commanded her.

Blushing, and feeling the color spread across her chest until she knew all of her skin was pink with it, Hermione did as she was told. One hand tentatively pinched her own nipple while the other drew her folds apart and slid two fingers briefly inside to gather her moisture.

“Give me those fingers,” Percy said and Hermione held them up for him with wide eyes. Percy pulled both fingers into his mouth, licking and sucking her juices from them, groaning as he did. “Sweet fucking Merlin,” he cursed when he let her go, “you taste every bit as divine as I knew you would. Well… go on.”

Shaking from the force of her arousal, Hermione slid her fingers back inside herself as she heard Percy unbuckling his trousers. She soon heard them fall to the ground and Percy let out a low groan as he palmed himself. The angle of the table made it hard to see, but she could tell that he was large. Not enormous like Charlie, but larger than the others. Hermione moaned at the sight of it.

She closed her eyes and focused herself, trying to get to that space where she was relaxed enough to let go. The sight of his hard cock had inspired her, but knowing Percy was watching her made it hard to lose herself.

Especially when he quietly commanded, “Open your eyes. Watch me.”

She shuddered when she opened her eyes and stared into his.

“This isn’t working,” he declared. “Sit up.”

Doing as she was told, she was now finally able to see all of him, the very sight of his cock bobbing in front of him enough to make her hum with desire.

Hermione was surprised when Percy gracefully moved onto the table himself, scooting until he was right behind her, his body pressed to hers. She could feel his long, hard cock between them, pressing into her back.

“Now lean back against me,” he commanded.

“Yes, Sir,” she said as she did that. She gasped when Percy pulled one of her legs over his own then did the same on the other side, spreading her wide and giving her no control over whether or not she stayed atop the table. The position was precarious and forced her to trust him entirely.

“Now,” Percy whispered directly into her ear. “This is perfect. I’m going to guide your hands. And the way you move your body is going to pump my cock.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant, but then he took her hands in his and brought them to the places he had told her to touch before. He wasn’t touching her body himself, but the way his hands held hers and made her move was intoxicating. Hermione had no idea how she was so close already, but she was. And if the pants in her ear and his thrusting behind her were any indication, Percy was actually close as well.

“Do you accept this bond with me, Hermione?” Percy asked.

“Wh-what?” she whimpered, so turned on that she was practically mindless.

Percy smirked into her neck and said, “Our bond, little girl, do you want it?”

“Yes, Sir,” she answered.

“Not this time, call me Percy. Do you accept my bond, Hermione?”

“Yes, Percy, I do accept you,” she said, just as she exploded. Behind her, she heard Percy cry out and felt his come soak her back, dripping from the ends of her hair. She could feel the bond securing between them as a powerful wave of magic blasted through and around them.

Hermione melted back against Percy, unable to stop trembling and uncertain if she would be able to even sit up on her own if he moved from behind her. When she could speak, she managed, “H-how did that complete the bond? When we didn’t have sex?”

“You and Ginny didn’t have penetrative sex, did you? I thought—and apparently I’m right—that it is unnecessary. Bonding is about intent. We’re not ready for the kind of sex I’ll have with you. And I won’t settle for less. So it needed to be this way. Are you unhappy with it?” he asked.

“Merlin, no. It was… amazing. I just can’t believe it worked,” she responded breathlessly.

“You should never doubt me,” Percy informed her briskly. Somehow he was in front of her again, though she was still barely balanced on the edge of the table. It was a relief to have him in front where he might catch her if she fell forward.

A whispered word of magic, and her bra was popped back in place. Then he very slowly buttoned up her shirt, his eyes staring directly into hers as he did it. The way he was looking at her made it almost impossible to focus.

“I won’t. Wait… does this mean Ron and I don’t need to actually have sex?” she asked, her excitement overriding the look Percy was short circuiting her brain with.

“It’s a possibility, if he has the finesse for it,” Percy said derisively as he allowed her legs to close, massaging her thighs in a way that was both soothing and enticing, but he did nothing else to move back into a sensual encounter.

Hermione nearly whimpered as Percy picked her up and lowered her so that her feet were standing once more. She thought she might collapse. Her body was jello.

Before she could say anything, there was a knock on the door.

“Are you done?” Ron’s voice came through. “If Mione and I have to do this, we should take advantage of the… effect of your bondgasm.”

He started to open the door, but Percy stormed to it and slammed it shut again. He spoke just loudly enough that Ron would be able to hear him on the other side of the door. “You will do nothing until our lady wife has had time to recompose herself.”

“Why? I’m just walking her down the hall to bang her in another room,” Ron shouted.

As Hermione straightened her clothes and prepared herself for what was about to happen, Percy opened the door just enough to get his hands on Ron’s collar and jerk him forward.

“That is our wife you’re talking about and we are not just going to ‘bang’ her,” he said, anger making his voice tight.

“Speak for yourself, mate,” Ron said, unperturbed. He removed his older brother’s hands from his shirt collar and pushed back slightly, just enough to show that he wasn’t frightened but without knocking him over. “This isn’t love. Not anymore. Hermione and I are just friends. And we’re just going to shag. Friends with benefits, you know.”

He had said the last while leaning around Percy to look at Hermione. His eyes skimmed her and then darted away, clearly feeling uncomfortable about it.

Well, Hermione wasn’t any more a fan of it than he was. Weren’t the other six, seven counting Fleur, enough? Did she really have to be with Ron, too? Somehow the others managed to feel normal, like relationships were supposed to. With Ron, it just felt like he would be using her. Or she would be using him. In this case, that might be more true. Still, it wouldn’t help any for Percy to become any more irritated than he already clearly was.

Walking up and putting a hand on his arm, Hermione said, “It’s okay. He’s just being honest. This won’t be… anything like that.”

Reluctantly, she looked to Ron. He sighed, then took her hand and pulled her away from Percy. “Let’s get this over with.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Hermione said, feeling her own irritation rise. No, this wasn’t something either of them really wanted, but he didn’t have to be an arse about it.

Ron marched into the first bedroom along the hall. Hermione wasn’t sure whose it had once been, but it was passably clean now, which was quite a bit better than she had expected. Sunlight streamed in through the window, making the room faintly glow as it hit an old mirror and lit the place. The furniture had once been grand, but now had a shabby look from long disuse.

Ron was sitting on the bed by the time she looked to him, waiting for something, it seemed.

“What?” she asked him.

“You can get started,” he said.

Blinking, Hermione couldn’t help but question, “Get started?”

“Yeah. You know. Come snog me or… or take your shirt off or something. Yeah, taking your shirt off would be great,” Ron said with a grin.

She almost laughed. He had to be joking, right? But then she saw the sincerity in his blue eyes. In that moment, Hermione considered slapping him. “Surely you know better,” she snapped.

“Know better than what?” he asked, confusion written across his brow. “When it was time to start, Lavender always…” Seeming to realize his mistake, Ron trailed off.

Hermione felt her blood boil. She may not be romantically involved with him now, and she didn’t even have lingering hard feelings toward Lavender. But she would not sit here and listen to how Lavender Brown would have handled this better.

Especially not after the mind-blowing experience she had just had with Percy, and with all Ron’s brothers, Fleur, and Ginny, actually. They had taken very good care of her and she hadn’t left any of them wanting. There was nothing wrong with the way she did things.

Even though Hermione was certain of that, it was still hard not to feel inadequate with Ron staring at her like he was. Finally, he bit his lip and said, “I’ve never really been with anyone else, you know. I can figure out how to help everyone else be with you, but the actual doing hasn’t been up to me. I know you don’t want to hear about what she did with me, but Lavender is the only thing I know. She was… very intense.”

Hermione snorted. That was one way to describe attacking someone’s tonsils with your tongue every time you saw them. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she tried to think about this logically. It wasn’t like the others where the attraction went both ways. With Ron, it was just two people in a room awkwardly trying to move toward sex they didn’t really want to have.

“Okay,” she finally said. “So you’re used to the woman taking charge.”

“Yes,” Ron said, smiling more genuinely now with relief.

Swallowing hard, Hermione said, “That’s fine. I can do that.” She started walking toward him.

“Could you… maybe… walk a little sexier?” he asked. “And, you know, take your shirt off and stuff?”

Stifling her urge to throttle him, Hermione smiled in a grimacing way and said, “Sure, Ron. If that makes this easier.”

“It does,” he said. She noticed his hand was on his still-hard cock through his pants. The bondgasms always gave him a stiffie, but didn’t make him explode the way they did to everyone else.

Courage gathered, Hermione ripped her shirt over her head and began to saunter toward the bed. Only, instead of looking intrigued, Ron suddenly started laughing.

“You’re strutting like a bloody chicken,” he giggled.

Now she really was going to smack him. Charging forward as she pulled her shirt back on, Hermione hit his shoulder first, knocking Ron over on the bed and making him laugh harder. It took barely a moment for her irritation to become a full tussle between them, rolling around on the bed fighting. They weren’t really trying to hurt each other, but it was good to release the tension. Ron was giggling all the while, though, and everytime she heard him it made her angry again.

Until she realized that his laughter had turned into tears and they weren’t from mirth. She didn’t need the intensity of a bond like she had with the twins to feel his emotions, Hermione knew that just by looking at him. He had been one of her best friends since they were 11 after all.

“Ron? What is it?” she asked, her tone immediately changing from irritation to concern.

“Mione, I can’t. I don’t want to do this. It… it’s just rubbing my face in what I can’t have,” he said, gasping as the force of his tears increased.

She immediately hugged him from behind. “Ron, I… I didn’t know you were upset about—”

“I’m not. Or not usually. Not really. It’s not that I wish I could have you that way now.” As much as she fought not to, Hermione’s arms tensed around his neck and Ron chuckled as he patted her hand. “You’re still bloody gorgeous. I’m just… not interested anymore. No, it’s… well, I had this whole plan, right?”

“A plan?” she repeated, honestly surprised.

Ron nodded earnestly. “I know, me with a plan. But I meant to ask you on a date and then we would be together for a while before I would ask you to marry me one Christmas morning at the Burrow and then we would get married and have a kid or two while Harry and I fought bad guys as Aurors and you worked your way up through the Ministry. I just… I could see the whole thing in my head. And now none of it exists. And the war… all the people we lost…”

Hermione was surprised by how deeply in pain Ron seemed to be. In a way she had never seen before from him. It only made sense that he would be reeling from the war, too, but she somehow hadn’t thought of him feeling that way. It was careless of her not to see his pain and Hermione immediately felt ashamed.

Moving beside him, she took his hand. “You can talk to me, Ron. I’m still here like always,” she told him.

“Are you? Now that we don’t have Harry to keep alive, do we have anything to talk about?” he asked. The sincerity in his voice floored her.

“Of course we do!” Hermione protested. “We also talked about homework and creatures and—”

“You talked about those things, Mione. I talked about Quidditch. What do we really have in common?”

Her lips pursed. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but… “We’re family, whether we have anything to talk about or if we’re just holding each other.”

“But is that enough for—”

“Ronald Bilius Weasley!” she snapped. “We did not just come through a war together for you to decide we’re not friends now. If nothing else, we can discuss our shared trauma.”

“Or riding a dragon!” Ron laughed through his tears.

Dryly, Hermione retorted, “Like I said, trauma.”

Covering his face with his hands, Ron gave a low groan. “I’m glad you still want to be here, but Hermione I just can’t…” He paused to shudder. “Have sex with you. It’s gross.”

“Thanks,” she said sarcastically.

“Because you’re like my sister, not because you’re gross,” he emphasized hastily. “And… I don’t want anyone right now. I don’t know how my plan would have gone if I could have followed it. I feel sick most of the time from all the memories and the terrible possibilities of what could have gone wrong. Merlin, we almost lost Fred. Harry. I was constantly afraid I would lose you, too. Anyone. Everyone. It’s great that it’s no longer happening, but I feel like I haven’t had time to catch up with it.”

“Oh Ron! I feel the same way. It’s not just you. We haven’t had time to breathe properly in over a year, maybe longer.” Her hand gripped his hand. “Every single day is still overwhelming and it feels like that will never end.”

Ron was nodding. “It’s got to sooner or later, right?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. With a half laugh she added, “I’m not the one who signed up to keep fighting.”

“I’m glad you’re not. And with some time to think about it, I’m glad Harry isn’t either. You two both deserve some time to rest and relax.”

“And you don’t?” Hermione asked.

Shaking his head, Ron said, “I took mine in the middle of everything when you needed me most—“

“You don’t have to spend the rest of your life making up for that!” she broke in.

“No, but I want to. It was part of the plan, and the only part that still feels right. Can you accept that, Hermione? Accept me as I am?”

“Of course I accept you, Ron. Just— wait!” Hermione felt something inside her wound tight— the same kind of tension in the air that she felt before each of the bonding orgasms. This was friendly, loving, caring energy rather than sexual but maybe… “Ron, do you accept me? As I am? As your bonded?”

“What—“ but then his eyes widened as he caught on. More formally, Ron said, “I do accept you, Hermione. You are my bonded wife, the deepest friend of my heart.”

Hermione frowned at that, afraid it would negate the gathering feelings between them, but suddenly a burst of unfiltered love and devotion filled her. From the wonder in Ron’s eyes, it hit him as well. She felt the magic surround them and then settle as it surged outward.

Idly, she wondered how this bondgasm would affect everyone. But right now she didn’t care because Ron had flopped backward into the bed and she cuddled into him as they had done many times before in the tent.

“Who knew it would be that easy?” he asked, voice still full of wonder.

“Baring our feelings to each other was easy?” Hermione retorted with a smile.

Ron grinned. “That’s right. I bet I have at least a tablespoon of emotional range now.”

Laughing, she hit his arm. “Maybe even a quarter cup,” she agreed.

“Surely not that much,” he reasoned playfully. Hermione felt her heart fill for him as the boy she had grown up with played along. She wasn’t sure they had ever been this relaxed together considering their previous cuddle sessions had been full of tension and uncertainty. This was just… perfect friendship.

***********

“What was that?” Fred voiced as the shockwaves of emotion continued to hit. “Merlin, I feel like crying and hugging you all.”

Charlie threw himself at both Fred and George, the two closest since Ginny was across the room with Harry. He felt both of his brothers immediately relax into it. The overwhelming feelings of connection, love, and contentment were intense in a way Charlie had rarely experienced.

He heard Ginny whimper, but before he could beckon her to join them, she was already squirming into the hug between himself and Fred. To Charlie’s surprise, though it made sense considering, Harry was working his way in as well, between the twins.

This should have felt awkward. Not half an hour ago they had all been taken to their knees for a bondgasm. Now Charlie just wanted to be as close as possible to as many of them as he could be, the feeling of brotherhood and common ground making tears leak from the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t the only one crying either.

George answered Fred’s question, “Well since it’s affecting all of us it must be a bond thing.”

“But we have Harry again,” Fred noted.

Shaking his head, Charlie said, “I think we can safely say that Harry is somehow involved in the bond now.”

“How can I be?” Harry asked, the confusion clear in his eyes even as he sunk into the warmth of their group hug.

“Maybe it’s from you declaring us brothers,” George suggested.

“Or because we think of you like a brother,” Fred added with a smile.

“Maybe Hermione figured out how to bond with Ron without having sex and it somehow bonded you in brotherly love or something, too! Since you and Ron have been so close for so long,” Ginny enthused. Charlie found himself nodding. That made the most sense.

“I don’t think that’s possible — bonding without sex,” Fred said, though Charlie thought he seemed unusually hesitant to argue.

“Sticking a dick in her isn’t the only way to bond or she couldn’t have bonded with me,” Ginny pointed out.

“No, but there was still a very strong bondgasm for that one,” Fred said stubbornly.

Charlie laughed. “This is a strong one, too, just different, like their bond is different.” He was fighting the urge to snuggle the group closer, and he noticed that George was nuzzling Harry’s hair. It was unusual for any of them except Ginny to be so touchy-feely but Charlie could still feel the power of the magic buzzing through him.

The floo behind them whooshed and Bill appeared. He looked shaky almost, and nearly ran to the rest of them, tears streaming down his face as he collided with the group and wormed his way between Ginny and him. Charlie immediately felt more complete, though he suddenly wished the other three were with them.

“I couldn’t stand to be away for a minute longer and I could feel… I knew most everyone would be here,” Bill explained, blinking around at the shop. It was looking better all the time. “Fleur is covering for me with the goblins. She was already anyway because of the bondgasm.”

“We think this is another form of the bonding,” Charlie caught him up.

“But who… Percy, then Ron… I get it. Then she’s got us all?” Bill asked in relief. Charlie knew he had been worried about her going to Romania with two unbonded partners.

Smiling, Charlie confirmed it. “Yes, she should be safe.”

There was a general sigh of relief, proving it hadn’t just been him and Bill worrying over it.

“Now, if the rest of us can make it through,” George commented solemnly.

Charlie felt guilty to see all the worried looks. He couldn’t help how poorly he had responded to being separated from her. Nor could he argue with Mikal’s demand that he not return without her. It would probably be fine now that they were bonded, but Charlie wasn’t about to argue when it meant he would have two whole days alone with her.

“We’re going to be fine,” Ginny said with an eyeroll, though he knew her well enough to see the little worry lines on her forehead. His sister might be physically and magically fine, but she would miss Hermione and need her upon their return.

Of course, she would be one of many. Even Bill looked a little concerned, despite his adamant denial of needing her.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud pop across the room. As one, they turned to see who had intruded.

“About time you got here,” Fred said when they saw it was Percy.

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Percy responded, “Yes, well, I need to get on with the day, but…” He took a hesitant step toward them before Bill reached out and yanked him into the middle where they could all hug him at once.

“Now if we just had Ron and Hermione here, it would be perfect,” Harry said.

“Doubtful,” Percy told them. “I eavesdropped a bit. They’re having some very deep discussions. It probably wouldn’t be amiss if you joined them, Harry, but I would say the rest of us are out of luck.”

Harry shook his head. “No. This time it should just be about them. They have a lot to catch up on and work through just the two of them.”

Charlie could tell it took a lot for Harry to say that rather than running to them as was offered. He didn’t know Harry well, but he had a lot of respect for the younger man.

Before his thoughts could go much farther, Percy began shoving lightly, pushing at his siblings to get out of the middle of their hug. “I have to get back to work,” he said impatiently.

“You’re not going to tell us anything about that bonding?” Charlie teased lightly.

“It was an impressive bondgasm,” Fred pushed.

Percy blushed lightly, but only sank further into his uptight persona, demanding they let him past. Grumbling, George moved, allowing enough of a gap that Percy was able to leave the circle.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Ginny said. Charlie wasn’t sure if she was being snide or sincere. It didn’t seem like Percy was sure either based on his tight smile and the bare nod of his head before he popped out of the room again.

Bill shook his head and said wonderingly, “How can he act so aloof about it when what happened between them had to have been explosive?” As he spoke, they all began moving away from each other, the power of the moment finally ebbing away.

“And who would have expected that from him?” Fred added, making everyone snicker.

“There must be more to him than it seems,” Harry said fairly.

Ginny nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe he’s not as stuck up as he acts all the time.”

“Well, we know he’s not. Don’t you remember everything he said when we first got home?” George reminded.

For a moment, they were all quiet, trying to reconcile the Percy they just talked to with the one who had broken down that day.

“It would be easier to see him as good enough if he didn’t act like we weren’t good enough for him,” Fred muttered. He remembered the guilt he felt that day, but it was hard to counteract the way his older brother still behaved around them now.

“It’s hard to change a lifetime of behavior,” Bill said judiciously. “He at least is taking good care of our wife.” Much laughter and snorting accompanied that. They had all reacted hard to that bonding.

“Where were you when it happened?” Charlie asked curiously. These things were most difficult for Bill and Percy as the two working out in the world already.

“Thankfully sitting, working on an artifact with only one goblin in the room. I was able to play it off as something caused by the artifact. He didn’t know exactly what happened, just heard me react,” Bill explained. Charlie was impressed that he managed it without blushing.

George laughed and said, “It’s a good thing the rest of us were just cleaning up here. Now that we’re all bonded, maybe we’re done with that.”

“Are we?” Ginny asked.

“What do you mean?” Fred responded. “Ron was the last.”

“But now Harry is part of the bond, too, somehow,” Ginny pointed out.

Nervously, Harry turned to Bill. “What do you think it means?”

Charlie fidgeted as he waited for Bill to answer. They needed to all be bonded with her so he could take her away. What would this mean for Harry and Hermione? And how the bloody hell did he get tied up in the bond?

Running his hand across the back of his neck, Bill shook his head. “I don’t know what it means. I think I’ll have to look at the rituals in the Family Legacies again and see if I can understand what’s happening.”

“Just make sure—” Fred started.

“—you have Hermione’s help,” George finished. Their sentiment matched perfectly the way Charlie felt as well.

Ginny spoke suddenly. “Could it be because of—” but then cut herself off abruptly, her cheeks turning bright red.

“Because of what?” Harry asked.

Now Ginny’s face went almost white as the blood drained away. “Harry, I think we need to talk.”

********

Harry worried as Ginny led him up to the flat for their talk as the rest of the family got back to work cleaning up the shop. What could she be so upset about?

When they sat down on the sofa and she looked like she was going to cry rather than talk, Harry was even more concerned. “Whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

“But it is! Or… I don’t know. It’s not bad. I just don’t know what you’ll think and I don’t want… I don’t want you to hate me for what I’m going to do,” Ginny said, biting her lip.

“Gin, just tell me. You’re a Gryffindor. I’ve never seen you hesitate and you’re worrying me,” Harry urged.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny did it. “I’m pregnant, Harry.”

She was met with stunned silence for a moment before Harry managed to sputter, “What? How? You and Hermione…”

“Can’t make a baby,” she said with an eye roll. “I’ve only ever had sex with one man.”

Dumbfounded, Harry took several moments to respond. “Me?” he finally gasped, reeling from the possibility.

When she nodded at him, Harry’s heart swelled. Before he could think better of it, he jumped up, pulling her with him. He picked her up and swung her around, whooping. “That’s amazing! I mean… is it?”

There was a sudden sick feeling in his stomach as Harry realized she might not want a baby. They were so young. She wasn’t even out of Hogwarts yet.

“It is,” Ginny responded tentatively. “I know it may sound crazy but… I’ve decided I want to keep it. This might… it might be my only opportunity to have a baby when it won’t affect my career. And, well, depending on how things go with being married and all… it might be my only opportunity at all.”

Nodding, Harry said, “I thought Mione told you she wouldn’t hold you to just her?”

“She did,” Ginny confirmed. “I’m just not sure if it will really work that way in practice. If the bond will let us, I mean.”

“Well, I… honestly Ginny, I’m thrilled. I’ve wanted a family for so long, and—”

Ginny cut him off. “You have a family with us, always, Harry. But I know having our own baby makes it a family in a different way. I just wish…”

“That we could be together?” he asked, his voice tremulous.

Licking her lips nervously, Ginny shook her head. “No. Not exactly. I wish… I do wish we could be comfortable together that way, but… Harry, honestly I don’t know that we would have worked—”

“As a couple,” he finished for her, nodding sadly. “I know. I think… we’ve both changed a lot as people while I was… gone. And I think… well, it might not have worked. But I still want to be a father. And I’m still excited. If that’s okay?”

Ginny laughed. “Of course it’s okay! I’m so glad you’re happy. I’m just… I’m scared and excited and I don’t know how any of this will work. And I feel exhausted and nauseous all the time, so there’s that, too.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he offered instantly. Harry hadn’t considered being a father anytime soon, especially with things with Ginny completely blocked as they were, but now that it was happening, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was, how his whole world had just brightened with this news.

“Rub my feet?” she asked hopefully.

He laughed and gently pushed her back onto the sofa as he sat down himself. After a few moments of contemplation, he asked, “So you think I’m part of the bond now because of the baby?”

“I don’t know,” Ginny said, “But it’s possible? I don’t know what else is different.”

Cocking his head, Harry asked “But is that really different? We had sex just a few hours before the ritual. So you’ve been pregnant the whole time, really. We just didn’t know until now.”

“I don’t see how the magic could look at you as my brother if it knew we were going to be parents together,” Ginny pointed out.

Harry shook his head. “This is too philosophical for me. I think we’ll have to wait and get our answers from Bill and Hermione. Does Hermione know? About the baby?”

Ginny nodded. “She and Fleur were with me when we found out. We were really there for Hermione, thinking she was pregnant, but it turned out I was the only one.”

“Does anyone else know?” Harry asked.

Again, she nodded. “Somehow my brothers figured it out, too.”

“And they haven’t tried to kill me yet,” Harry said wonderingly.

“Well, they don’t know it was you yet,” Ginny acknowledged.

“Oh, Merlin,” Harry said, wondering if he would be alive to figure out the mess of the bonds and how he was suddenly part of the family in this new way. He hadn’t even had time to contemplate what it might mean with Hermione and he was already going to be murdered by his own brothers before he could find out.

***********

George’s throat constricted as he watched Charlie’s arm wrap around Hermione’s waist, almost posessively. He could feel Fred’s jealousy through their bond, hear the thought “as if he isn’t going to get her enough the next few days.” George was thankful he had taught Hermione to block things. She was shielding hard right now; he could feel it. And he hoped it meant that she was only getting the smallest sliver of their emotions.

His own feelings were closer to a sense of loss and despair than jealousy. He didn’t mind the way Charlie was holding their wife. George didn’t even mind knowing he would have Hermione all to himself, not having to share her with anyone. Just the idea of her being so far away from himself and Fred was overwhelming.

After the strange bondgasm from Ron and Hermione, it had been a few hours before she returned to them. She had been in a loving mood. They had all still been working in the shop, but she had paused to touch and nuzzle them often. Clearly, the loving mood they had all been hit with was even stronger for her.

For her part, Hermione seemed reluctant to leave. Charlie’s excitement over heading to Romania was palpable, but she continued to linger, touching everyone and saying goodbye over and over.

She made her way back to George and he felt a tingling thrill at the look in her eyes. She not only approached him with that loving look in her eyes, he felt her drop the shield between their emotions. The intense love he felt from her flowed over him like a wave. He knew Fred felt it, too, as his twin joined them, the three of them hugging tightly together before she engaged them each in a heartfelt kiss.

“I’m going to miss you,” George whispered.

Fred added, “We already do.”

“I’m not even gone yet,” she laughed, but there were tears in her eyes. “And I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Days from now,” Fred said, trying to keep the whine from his voice.

“Just two nights. I think we can do this,” Hermione said, though her voice sounded more questioning than certain.

As much as it hurt to say the words, George gave her the reassurance she needed. “We can, Hermione. Don’t worry about us. Just have fun and don’t get eaten by a dragon.”

She laughed. “I won’t. I have a dragon handler to keep them from snacking on me.”

“They wouldn’t want you,” Charlie said with a laugh as he walked over to extract her from their embrace. “Too small for a good meal,” he teased.

Hermione laughed as George allowed Charlie to pull her away. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful,” she assured them all. Looking around one last time, she said, “I love you. All of you.”

She was met with a chorus of “I love you”s back and then Charlie guided her finally into the floo for the first leg of their journey to Romania. It was going to be a hard few days, but George was determined to get through it for her.

Notes:

Ronmione: They start out trying to move toward sex, he makes Hermione angry by talking about Lavender, then ends up breaking down. Their bond happens as they accept each other's friendship and where they are in their recovery from the war.

Sooooo... I'm dying to hear what you all think!
Percy and Hermione are still a slow build. Are you mad at me?
What do you think is going on with Harry and the bond? What do you *want* to be happening?
Are you ready for some CHARLIE TIME???? I certainly am! What do you hope to see happen in Romania?

Chapter 24

Notes:

I know. I KNOW. I'm really sorry. Real life has been kicking my arse. Between moving, getting two houses ready to sell, and a kiddo who is going through some major problems right now, I haven't had much time for writing. I hope it will get better now, but I can't promise any particular timeframe. I'll do the best I can.

As a reminder, this is basically a never-ending soap opera with no (or very little anyway) set outline. If you have something you particularly want to see, mention it. I won't promise I'll include it, but I will likely work it in if it doesn't directly conflict with something else I'm doing.

Thank you to LadyWinterLight and Astrangefan for getting this alpha'd and beta'd very quickly once I finally got it written.

EDIT 5/25/2023: A few words in this chapter have been changed to correct a continuity issue later on.

Without further ado...

Hermione’s exhaustion irritated her. It had only taken a few hours to get from Diagon Alley to the Reserve in Romania thanks to Bill arranging a more direct series of portkeys for them, but she was surprised by how drained she felt.

There was still excitement as well, of course. She had never been to a Dragon Reserve before. But it was after dark now and she wouldn’t even be meeting Charlie’s boss or co-workers until tomorrow. Or so Hermione thought.

Well, except for the fellows who had been guarding the portkey room. They had been dour until they realized it was Charlie who had arrived. Then they wanted to throw a party.

“Come on, Mate! We haven’t seen you in almost a month and you’ve gone and gotten hitched in that time,” a man with dark blond hair said. Hermione thought his name was Donavin.

“We need to celebrate!” called another. She hadn’t caught his name. More people poured into the room.

A short older man, nearly as wide as he was tall thanks to his massive muscles, stepped forward and said, “We need to let the lad and his wife rest from their journey so they have energy when we celebrate them.”

He clapped Charlie on the back and reached forward for Hermione’s hand. Instead of shaking it, he bent over slightly and kissed it dramatically. “Florin at your service, madam. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

Hermione smiled and nodded. Charlie hadn’t had time to tell her much about the Reserve or the people on it, but he had mentioned his best mate a few times. She watched as Florin embraced his friend and granted him a heart-felt congratulations before muttering, “You owe me the story,” low enough that Hermione almost missed it.

His friends were happy for him, but they definitely wanted to know what was going on. It looked like he was excited to tell them, too. Or just excited in general. Hermione had never seen Charlie so animated.

She wanted to tell him that they could stay and enjoy his friends, but her body made the decision for them before she could. Charlie caught her around the waist as Hermione swayed on her feet.

“Like Florin said,” Charlie announced, “We’re a bit knackered. Tomorrow will be a better day for stories and celebrations.”

By the small of her back, he gently guided her toward the door of the central office. His many co-workers mostly dropped back to give him space, though Florin was a quiet presence behind Charlie.

When they broke out into the cool night air, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to meet everyone on the Reserve but not… not just now. This moment, she needed to rest, more than she had felt since the time she was separated from Charlie. Merlin, maybe she wasn’t going to be able to handle this even with all the bonds complete.

Florin moved up beside Charlie as they started down a dark but wide path. In the distance, Hermione could hear large somethings moving about, dragons of course, but it was worrying to hear them when she couldn’t see them.

Then the night around them lit up with dragon fire and Hermione found that it was much more worrying to be able to see them. Charlie gently told her, “There are strong wards between Augustus and us. He’s just stroppy because his mate is in the infirmary.”

“You afraid of dragons, lass?” Florin asked.

Hermione worked to breathe as she thought about it. “My experiences with them haven’t always been the best, but I’ve seen one hatch, trained my best friend to face one in the Triwizard Tournament, and ridden a blind dragon out of Gringotts. I’m wary, and have a healthy amount of fear mixed in,” she surmised.

Florin’s brows shot up his head at her assertions, but he shook his head as Hermione swayed again, Charlie’s steadying hand keeping her upright.

“It’s wise to respect them. They are intelligent, have little to no fear, and a number of ways to kill you. Smart lass, this one,” Florin told Charlie with a wink. “It was good to meet you, Hermione Weasley. You’ll be seeing more of me in the morning.”

Hermione couldn't describe how freeing it was to speak with people who didn’t already know her reputation and expect things of her. Or maybe they had heard but just didn’t care out here. Whichever it was, she found it refreshing. And she truly looked forward to meeting everyone.

For now, though, she was grateful when Florin walked away and Charlie abruptly scooped her into his arms. “What are you doing?” she gasped at him, laughing at the goofy grin on his face.

“I know this won’t be our home, but I always hoped to do this someday — carry my bride over the threshold of our cabin. For the next two days, it’s still that and I fully intend to make the most of it,” he explained as he carried her up the porch steps and into the cabin, the door opening ahead of them at his silent command.

A couple of lamps flared on as they came inside. Charlie set her gently on the sofa with a soft kiss. “Tea or cocoa, Draga?” he asked. “You need something before bed.”

“Tea, I think,” she answered. “I would love cocoa but I don’t think I could stomach it after those portkeys.”

From the kitchen, Charlie said, “I’m the same, to be honest.” It wasn’t far from where she sat.

Taking in the room around her, Hermione loved how homey it was. She could see touches of Molly around, knitted items here and there, plus just something about the way the furniture was laid out. It felt like a little slice of the Burrow. A much quieter slice.

The mantel above the fireplace held pictures of his family as well as Florin and others who were obviously his co-workers and friends. Those pictures all contained dragons as well. Hermione idly wondered if he only picked the ones with dragons in the background or if there were just so many here that it was simply inevitable they would be in every picture. Excitement thrilled through her that tomorrow she would find out.

Charlie appeared before her with a steaming cup before she could take in much more. When she struggled to sit up, he levitated the cups so that his hands were free to help her, placing himself where her head had been and letting her lean on him as she sipped her tea.

Clearing his throat after a few sips of his own, Charlie asked, “Is there anything you want to do tomorrow?”

“Besides the tour you promised me and the celebration your friends are throwing for us?” she asked in return.

He chuckled. “I suppose the day is busy already, but I want to make sure we see or do anything that particularly interests you.”

“I’ve always wanted to see a Chinese Fireball up close,” Hermione admitted. “And I should probably see Norbert—”

“Norberta,” Charlie corrected.

Hermione snorted a laugh, “Norberta then, so I can tell Hagrid about her.”

“We can work those into the tour,” Charlie assured her. “I hope you’ll like the nursery, too.”

She could hear the anticipation in his voice, but she shook her head. “I saw Norberta hatch. I’m not certain I’m going to enjoy it as much as you hope.”

Charlie laughed. “Norwegian Ridgebacks aren’t the cutest even at birth. Just wait til you see the baby Fireballs, though.”

“How do you know there are any here right now?” she asked curiously.

“There was a Mum whose clutch was just about to hatch before I left for the battle. They’ll be young babes now,” he explained.

Hermione had to admit that seeing Fireball babies made the nursery more appealing. She yawned as she thought about them. Large hands covered hers as Charlie leaned over her shoulder to peek in her cup.

“You don’t have to finish it if you would rather go to bed,” he told her.

Sighing with relief — Hermione didn’t think she could so much as hold the teacup up much longer — she nodded. “I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted.”

“I’m pretty tired, too, Draga, don’t be sorry. Want me to carry you to bed?”

Hermione laughed but found herself nodding. “Would you?”

“Always for you,” he said agreeably.

The room he carried her into was all Charlie. There were photos on the walls of him with various dragons, one with him and Bill, another with him and Florin. The bed had a Molly-made quilt across it, but this one more masculine than usual, all greens and browns except for the patchwork blue dragon in the center. Hermione loved it instantly. More than the look of it, though, she soon found the blankets turning themselves back so that Charlie could settle her onto the bed — that felt like a cloud welcoming her home.

“This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever laid on,” she declared.

Charlie laughed and nodded. “Working with dragons means working hard and being frequently hurt. A good bed seemed like a reasonable investment.”

“It’s amazing,” Hermione mumbled, already halfway asleep as Charlie settled in next to her. “You’re amazing,” she added.

“Not as amazing as you, Hermione,” he replied. “I had big plans to seduce you tonight, make you come until you saw stars, but I think we’re both too sleepy for it.”

“Mmmm. Tomorrow,” she suggested sleepily.

“Definitely,” he agreed, kissing her neck from behind. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, her back against his chest.

Hermione’s last thought before falling asleep was that she had never felt so perfectly right before in her life.

************

Charlie couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so well, if he ever had. Having Hermione next to him, in his bed, with the sounds of dragons in the distance, was a kind of perfection he hadn’t even known he needed. He wasn’t sure if she found it similarly comforting or if she had just been that tired, but his wife had barely moved throughout the night.

Even now, with his kisses trailing up and down her neck and shoulder, she wasn’t stirring. That was okay. Charlie was confident he could wake her. As much as he would like to let her sleep, they had a lot of plans for the day. And he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t dying to wake her up his way.

Shifting away from her, he gently rolled Hermione so that she was on her back. She sighed in a breathy way that made Charlie smile. It might have made him a little hard if he hadn’t already been a solid rock from laying next to her all night. He didn’t let it distract him, though. Charlie knew he could take care of himself in the shower. This morning was about Hermione.

Gently parting her legs, he settled himself between her thighs, his face directly above her pussy. To his surprise, it was glistening with her slick wetness. He apparently wasn’t the only one turned on from sleeping next to one another.

As much as Charlie had planned to take things very slowly, he couldn’t resist flattening his tongue against her and running it straight up her slit, lapping up all that glorious sweet and salty slickness. Hermione moaned, her head tossing about, but her eyes didn’t open. He smiled. With her taste on his tongue, he went back to his original plan.

Charlie began pressing kisses against her inner thighs, first one then the other. They started out tiny, barely a flutter, but became more languid and intense as he came back to her center. Hermione arched her back the closer he got, but her eyes were still closed. This made him smile even more as he began to lightly lick around her clit.

Her breathing was turning heavy when he began to kiss her more earnestly, sucking at her lips and clit before running his tongue back down between her folds. As he penetrated her with his tongue, licking as deeply as he could, he heard Hermione gasp awake.

“Charlie!” She sounded half wild with passion and half embarrassed at waking with his head buried in her cunt. He had a feeling he would have a hard time convincing her that her scent was divine and he ached for it.

He didn’t answer, just doubled his intensity as his fingers took over at her clit. He dragged a finger down through her juices, sucked on it as he looked up at her, then went back to sucking and massaging her with his lips while his now-slick finger rubbed at her clit.

“Tell me if this is the way you like it,” he spoke against her body.

Hermione was nearly thrashing off the bed now — or would have been if he hadn’t been holding her down with one large hand on her stomach. Her voice trembled when she moaned, “It’s so good. Oh god, oh Merlin. That… right there. That’s perfect!” And suddenly she was screaming, falling over the edge before he could even get his fingers inside her.

Fucking her with his tongue while his thumb continued to work her clit, Charlie didn’t let her come down from the orgasm until Hermione curled in on herself, whining, “That’s enough! Pleeease…”

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.

“No. Merlin, no. It was so good. But I can’t… that’s just too much pleasure,” she said, barely able to breath, but still almost laughing as though delirious.

Charlie laughed, feeling almost giddy with his own happiness. He wished he could feel hers, wished he had that connection with her that the twins had, but this was close.

“Do you want a shower this morning?” he asked.

“Well I think I should have one now,” she told him. “I hadn’t planned on it before since we were supposed to get straight up and go around the Reserve.”

“It’s early yet,” he informed her. “Besides, it will still be there when we get around to seeing it. Come on, Draga.”

He scooped her up before she could protest, wishing now that his thick cock wasn’t standing at attention since it thudded into her arse as he walked. It was a sweet torture for him, but he didn’t want to scare her with it. Tonks had always sworn that it seemed bigger each time she saw it because she wouldn’t believe her memory in between times. And she was very good at exact measurements of bodies. Charlie didn’t want Hermione to feel afraid of him.

To his surprise, she reacted by reaching down and behind herself to stroke a hand along his cock. Charlie almost staggered at the intense throbbing that began at her touch. Merlin, he shouldn’t have brought her to the shower with him.

By the time he set her on her feet and turned on the water, she was recovered and able to stand. Charlie, on the other hand, was ready to fall on his knees and worship her again for the simple touches she had given him.

As he pulled her into the shower with him, Charlie picked her up, letting her wrap her legs around his waist, his cock caught between them with her sweet little cunt rubbing against it. They both moaned as his mouth met hers and he kissed her until Hermione couldn’t breathe, the hot water pouring over them as they snogged.

Before he could move to do so, Hermione’s hands found the soap and she began to gently lather his body. When he was too slippery to hold her up anymore, Charlie reluctantly set her down, leaning against the tiled wall as she worked her way down his body.

When she wrapped both hands around his cock and tugged down, he shuddered and huskily said, “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll handle it once you’re out of the—”

“And if I want to handle it? Handle you?” Hermione demanded. She had soaped up his cock and was making him helpless with all the attention she was giving. When the water had washed away the suds, she dropped down and took his tip in her mouth.

“You can have me. Take anything you want from me,” Charlie managed to get out, his body deciding for him that he wouldn’t stop her when he nearly spasmed at the contact. His head was fuzzy with need and it took everything he had to remain standing. She began pumping his enormous prick with both hands while licking and sucking as much of him as she could manage to fit in her mouth.

“Fuck, Hermione… If you keep doing that I’m going to explode,” he warned.

Her only answer was a positive hum around him and Charlie actually convulsed against her, pulling his cock out of her mouth as he began to spurt. Before either of them could react, her face was covered in his come. It was the hottest fucking thing he had ever seen.

Charlie slid to his knees, barely managing to stay upright that much as his head spun. “Merlin, I’m so sorry,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to—”

A finger on his lips stopped him. “I loved it.” To prove her point, she licked her lips, taking some into her mouth and making a sinful noise of delight. “Besides, we’re in the shower,” she pointed out, ducking her head under the water and beginning to rinse it off.

Not waiting for her to be clean, Charlie kissed her again, pressing her against the tile wall this time. He could taste his own salty come on her as well as her own sweet flavor from kissing him after he had gone down on her. If his recovery time were faster, he would be ready to go again already. As it was, his cock thankfully didn’t even twitch despite how much he liked the combined tastes and everything they meant.

Shakily, he pulled away from her and said, “I think it’s my turn to clean you up.”

“That’s fair,” she agreed, “but if you start something again, know that I’m not letting you go without returning the favor.”

“I don’t think I could again,” he told her. “Not for a few hours, at least.”

This time her hum was more speculative, but he felt himself twitch just slightly at the memory of what her humming felt like. Maybe it wouldn’t take hours after all.

“Either way, no more of that until tonight, Mister,” Hermione demanded.

“You’re no fun,” he whined with a grin.

She rolled her eyes at him, though she was smiling. “I thought I was pretty fun just a little while ago.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Charlie said as he washed each of her dainty toes. He couldn’t get over how very small she was in his hands. And yet somehow this amazing witch had taken him. More than that, she had taken on the world with her tenacity. Florin always told him you had to watch out for the little ones.

When the two of them made it out of the shower, Charlie quickly fried up some eggs while Hermione made the toast. They were just finishing up when there was a knock at the door.

“Right on time,” Charlie said, knowing it was Florin and his partner Darrick. Introductions were made between the love of Florin’s life and Hermione. They were all soon laughing as they made their way out onto the Reserve and around to see all the dragon areas.

“And here’s the Fireball’s primary nesting area, inside those caves there. They are partial to these Chinese oaks we had imported and prefer to make nests from their branches. You can see them dragging the branches inside,” Florin explained. He had taken on the role of tour guide, with added information from both Charlie and Darrick giving details about the dragons they each specialized with.

Hermione barely held in a squeal of pleasure at the majestic site before her. There were six dragons on the ground — some heading into the caves, some out under the trees — and two more in the air above. “You have more of them than I expected.”

“We do,” Charlie agreed. “A few years ago traffickers were caught near here with a dozen of them — so many that we tried to send them back to China. Unfortunately, they were already too old to learn to hunt properly and couldn’t be released back into the wild, so we now have fourteen of them.”

“Nineteen, mate,” Darrick corrected. “Kiara’s clutch hatched while you’ve been gone.”

“Bloody hell!” Charlie shouted exuberantly. “They all made it?”

His friends nodded, smiles as large as his.

“And they’re in the nursery for now?” Hermione asked.

“Yes. They’ll live there until their Mum is ready to teach them how to fly and hunt — assuming they’re all healthy. If any of them seem like they’ll struggle, we keep them in the nursery a bit longer to give them a higher chance of survival. If all goes well, the babies can hopefully be released back into their natural habitat in China rather than stay here in the Reserve,” Charlie explained. “Do you want to go see the nursery next?”

“Yes!” she answered excitedly. Charlie couldn’t wait to show them to her. He had loved her reaction to the adult Fireballs. The nursery was next to the lunch hall, too, so the timing would be perfect as the morning was nearly gone.

*************

Ron ambled into the shop with his arms full of bags. He had gotten food for everyone and it was a full crew working in the shop today — the twins, Lee, Verity, Harry, Ginny, and Luna. As he began unpacking the meals he had brought from The Leaky Cauldron, he heard someone coming up behind him, undoubtedly called by the smell of the food.

When he turned, however, he was surprised to see George just leaning against the wall. That wasn’t what he had expected. Ron looked his brother over with concern. George was more likely to take over on serving than rest while there was work to be done, but today he looked pale and somehow fragile.

“George,” Ron spoke up a bit when George didn’t respond. “Hey, you doing okay?”

“Yes, fine,” George replied, shaking himself as he pushed away from the wall. “I’ll feel better with some food.”

“Are you sure?” Ron asked. “This looks like it’s more about Hermione being so far away.”

He wasn’t sure if he would have realized it if he hadn’t felt an uncomfortable tug himself. It was so minor for him that it hadn’t even bothered him during training this morning — at least not as much as his bloody new partner had bothered him — but it was enough to know something was off. As disconnected as he was from her, Ron wondered what it was like to be the twins right now.

George had moved forward and grabbed two of the meals. “I’ll just take one to Fred and let everyone else know they’re here,” he said, shuffling off.

Was that the way George normally moved? Ron wasn’t sure. He probably should, but… until recently he just hadn’t paid much attention. He worried for his brothers but there was nothing he could do. Besides, he had enough problems of his own?

“I’m surprised you’re still awake,” Ginny commented as she snagged a meal. “What time did you say training started? Four this morning?”

Ron nodded. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t more exhausted, honestly. Well, he was exhausted, but he was just too wound up to head straight home. “It was brutal,” he agreed. “The hour and the training.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Fred questioned, walking up with his food. He was just as ill-looking as George. It had to be Hermione’s distance.

“Bringing you lunch, you ungrateful wanker,” Ron said. “Besides, can’t go to sleep until I tell someone my awful luck.”

“It might not be so awful,” Luna commented.

Ron worked not to roll his eyes at her. “You don’t even know what it is.” Luna didn’t say anything further, but she had a knowing look in her distant eyes that made Ron feel like he was wrong. Mentally shaking it off, he continued, “I’ve been partnered with that bitch Millicent Bulstrode.”

Lee blinked. “They accepted her into the Auror’s Academy?”

“They’ll take anyone these days,” Ron responded.

Fred began laughing. “Careful little brother. You’ll implicate yourself.”

Ron did roll his eyes now. He wasn’t taking the bait. One of the things Robards had told him to work on — already — was his bloody temper. “I’m a war hero. She’s barely better than a Death Eater.”

George shook his head. “She’s barely more than a child.”

“I’m the same age!” Ron argued.

George just gave him a pointed look that almost did make Ron react. Instead, he said, “She didn’t have to go on the run or anything. She was down in the Slytherin dungeons with her friends.”

“From what I’ve heard, being in the castle was a harrowing experience for everyone,” Verity started.

“It was,” Ginny cut in.

“And she’s not a Death Eater if she was there at the castle,” finished Verity logically.

Ron pinched his nose to keep from reacting. He was going to have to get used to Millicent whether he liked her or not. Robards had been very clear about that. “That’s true,” he agreed through gritted teeth. “She’s probably just misunderstood.”

“There, Ronnikins,” Fred said, “That’s a much better way to look at it.”

If he had been sure Fred could take it, he might have punched him. Ron held his temper, though, and happily let the conversation wander back to the many things happening in the shop.

“When did you say it’ll be ready?” Ron asked as he realized he had missed that important detail. It was all in the details Robards said.

George sighed before saying, “By the end of the week. Really, in a day or two but we want to wait until after the funeral.”

Angelina. Even Ron knew that Fred wasn’t going to be the same until he could let her memory rest. She had died for the bloke. Ron guessed he understood the fixation, even if he hadn’t thought they were that close before. And Fred had Hermione now anyway.

As the others talked, Ron contemplated how his mind had come back around to Hermione. It seemed like all things led to her now. Maybe they always had. After all, before the Weasley magic had messed everything up, he had thought about her all the time, too. Just, in a very different way back then.

Still, she was the center of their world, of their family. And she would always be a part of him and Harry. That was when he realized that Harry had been silent since he arrived. Was the bloke even still there?

Looking around, Ron saw that he was sitting next to Ginny, but he hadn’t touched his food. “You not eating, mate?” Ron asked him.

“Can’t,” Harry replied. He looked paler than the twins.

“Why not?” Ron asked, sitting down next to him.

Ginny answered for him. “Because Hermione’s away and he’s tied up in the bond somehow, too.”

“We’ve got to get this bloody thing straightened out somehow,” Ron stated. It was unthinkable that Hermione could never travel away from any of them.

“Hermione and Bill will get it fixed,” Harry said, though he didn’t sound as confident as usual.

“And Fleur,” Ginny added. Ron noticed she had been defending her sister-in-law more and more lately. Especially since Hermione had gotten close to Fleur, too. Perhaps there was a connection.

“It would be nice if Gin and I wanted to be together again,” Harry said, a wan smile on his face as he looked at his former girlfriend. Ron figured it must be as bloody weird for Harry now as it was for him when he was around Hermione.

And if Harry became attracted to Hermione through the bond somehow? Bloody weirder than ever. Bill had basically declared them magical siblings. Shouldn’t that have stopped the bond from dragging Harry in? What a bloody mess.

Ron wondered idly if Hermione was feeling any adverse effects being with only one of her bonded spouses.

**************

“What did you think of the nursery?” Mikal asked in heavily accented English as he pushed his lunch plate away. He spoke English well enough, but he would always sound like a Romanian first.

“The babies were so sweet!” Hermione gushed. As she started to wax on about how much she had enjoyed them and all the things she had learned, she hardly noticed Charlie’s look of adoration.

“We’re going back after lunch,” Florin informed his superior. “We never made it past the Fireballs.”

Everyone laughed as Darrick joked, “They’re the cutest, after all. What better place to start if you’re trying to lure your new wife into living in a remote Dragon Reserve?”

There was more laughter, but it died at the stony look on Charlie’s face. Hermione felt her heart clench. She had never seen Charlie so happy and care-free as he had been today. It made the happy-go-lucky act he had put on for his family during visits look like a pale imitation. To see that confidence and exuberance just stop was a stark reminder that this enormous change in his life was her fault.

Hermione watched as Charlie looked down at his plate and said, “We won’t be living here.”

The sudden change in the air around her was instant. She could feel the hostility coming from every one of them. Florin looked at her with accusing eyes as he leaned down to Charlie. She could hear him whisper, the sound carrying in the now-silent room.

“What’s she done to you, lad? Dragons are your life.”

When Charlie quietly answered, “Not anymore,” her heart broke for him. But he cleared his throat and continued a little louder. “My family is my life now. I’m—”

“You knock her up?” someone asked. There were too many people crowded around them for Hermione to be certain who it was.

“No,” Charlie answered, but for some reason Hermione felt like he sounded unusually sad about that. It must be residual adoration of the baby dragons or something.

“No,” he repeated. “I’m referring to my siblings, not my wife. They need me back in Britain. I’ve accepted a position at Hogwarts as the Care of Magical Creatures Professor.”

There was a shocked silence and then a smattering of applause.

“You are so certain of this?” Mikal asked, his face grave.

Charlie nodded, though he looked anything but certain. Hermione felt like crying for him since he seemed determined not to. She had to remind herself that this had been his choice. She could already tell she would love it here if he wanted to stay part of the time. But then she felt the increasingly more uncomfortable tug of the others — Fred and George especially. They weren’t feeling well and she felt worse because of it.

She physically couldn’t be away from them for more than a few days. And with the bonding in its current state, it seemed like she couldn’t be away from Charlie either, at least not that any of them were willing to try.

Besides, Charlie had made his own decision to pursue the Professorship. Headmistress McGonagall would no doubt understand if he went back to his dragons, but she would be mightily disappointed. Not to mention desperate for yet another Professor. Hermione knew Charlie wouldn’t do that to his former Head of Gryffindor.

Instead, he held his ground. Bringing his head up and meeting the Director’s eyes, Charlie nodded once. “I am,” he confirmed. “My family needs me more than the dragons do.”

There was a general rumble of protests but Charlie held up a hand. “The dragons have all of you and this Reserve is full of the best damn dragon handlers in the business. They won’t even know I’m gone.”

“You think Calla didn’t notice you were gone? She would tear us all apart if she knew you were here while she's out in the field. Or Azara?” Florin asked incredulously.

Charlie shifted uncomfortably. “Well, yes, they probably did.”

“Dahrian, too,” Darrick added.

Hermione could see the heartbreak in Charlie’s eyes as he silently acknowledged that these dragons, Calla who she had heard so much about and the mated pair of Fireballs he loved, had likely missed him.

“Wait,” Hermione interrupted. “I… I know what you all must think of me right now, but I have a proposal to make, something that may help the overpopulation problem with the Fireballs and could give Azara and Dahrian the opportunity to interact with Charlie. Mikal, we wanted to talk to you about this especially.”

Mikal gazed at her seriously for a long moment before letting his eyes flicker to Charlie. At Charlie’s nod, he turned to the rest of the handlers. “Out, you lot.” He repeated himself in multiple languages before everyone began moving. “Florin, you stay.”

Hermione could tell that Florin must be well up the ladder of command, perhaps Mikal’s second. Charlie had never mentioned that, but she suspected he was pretty far up the chain of command as well. The way the other handlers had deferred to him throughout the day today only confirmed it.

“Is this new position because of your family marriage?” Mikal asked as soon as the others had left.

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up his forehead and he choked out, “What?”

“Your brother told me when he came to take you back. Are you leaving us because you have no choice?”

Charlie’s eyes cut to Hermione for a half second before he looked away. “Yes and no,” he answered. “I think I will enjoy the Professorship. But no, I don’t want to leave either.”

There was silence between the four of them for a few long moments.

“What kind of proposal?” Mikal asked into the hush.

“Do you remember the dragon that was freed from Gringotts?” Charlie began.

“Of course,” Mikal answered, Florin nodding beside him.

“Hermione was one of the three who rode her out.”

She could tell that her worth had just increased exponentially in Mikal’s eyes. “But that means I need to make reparations with the bank. They also need a creature to guard their high security vaults and have made it clear they will obtain one illegally just as they had the one before if I don’t come up with another solution.”

“And you’ve found one?” Florin prompted.

“We have,” Charlie said. “I think this will work for the bank and for our… your Reserve.” Despite his stumble over words, he looked and sounded confident. The other two men looked intrigued and indicated for him to continue.

At a glance from Charlie, it was Hermione who picked up the explanation. “The dragon needs access to a space outside the bank, the company of other dragons, and to not be harmed — three things the previous dragon did not have and had likely not had its entire life.”

“Charlie, his brother Bill—”

“We know Bill,” Florin interrupted.

“Good. Then you know how competent he is,” Hermione said with a smile. “So, Charlie, Bill, his wife Fleur, and I have been working on a magical portal of sorts. The outside area will be just like their warded area here, complete with a cave. As far as the dragons would be concerned, the inside of the cave they nest in would be just a very large cave. In reality, it would be the bank.”

Mikal looked intrigued but asked, “Isn’t the inside of the bank noisy? That won’t be very good for their nest.”

“There will be silencing spells between them and the carts during their sleeping periods,” Charlie explained.

“How on earth will you be able to tell when they’re sleeping?” Florin asked.

“Fleur has worked that out,” Hermione explained, “She modeled it after muggle devices that sense when someone is asleep.”

“Remarkable,” Florin commented.

“How does this benefit the bank?” Mikal asked.

Charlie bit his lower lip before saying, “I know we don’t approve of hoarding, but for these dragons it will be encouraged. They will be given a small hoard to protect and I will work with them to ensure they consider the bank’s vaults a part of their treasure as well.”

“If you use Azara and Dahrian, big D has a hoarding problem already,” Florin said.

“It’s one of the reasons they would be ideal. That and the overpopulation problem this Reserve has with Fireballs. Even if the new babies are released as you hope, there are too many adults here to be sustainable. And you know Azara is broody.”

The other two men were nodding. It had been an ongoing problem for some time now. Mikal questioned, “And you would work with them personally, Charlie?”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“So you get to keep your dragons after all,” Mikal said with a sly grin that Charlie returned.

“I do. A couple, at least.”

“And if this is successful? What do we do when other banks and places come to us wanting dragons for their security?” Mikal asked.

“You tell them to talk to Hermione Granger first,” Hermione told him, wagging a finger. Mikal and Florin both laughed, even though the twinkling in their eyes suggested that they knew she was serious. And that she would stop anyone who shouldn’t be asking — which of course would be nearly everyone.

“I think you have a deal,” Mikal said, reaching to shake Hermione’s hand, then Charlie’s. “We will miss you here, Charlie Weasley.”

“I’ll miss being here,” he replied.

“You are always welcome to visit. Bring all of this family who needs you and see us for longer.”

Charlie laughed, but rubbed the back of his neck. “That might make it more plausible.” He looked to Hermione for confirmation. She smiled back at him with a nod and he beamed.

“Now go. See more of your dragons while you’re here,” Mikal told him. He even gave Hermione a nod and a small smile before leaving.

“I have things to say to you both,” Florin said before following Mikal out.

Hermione gulped. She was not looking forward to that conversation with Charlie’s closest friend and mentor. At least they had a bit of a reprieve.

Charlie’s arms were around her before Hermione had even realized he had moved. He hugged her close and said, “I don’t want to leave, and I know you don’t want me to be forced into leaving, but I want to be with you more.”

“What if that’s just the bond talking?” Hermione asked. “What if Bill and I can get it straightened out and then you don’t need me so close anymore? Now that we’re bonded, you may not even need me close.”

“I do,” Charlie said. “I don’t know why or how, but I am absolutely certain I need to be near you. I feel so drained when we’re separated.”

“That can’t be normal,” Hermione stated.

Charlie shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if it’s normal or not. It’s just how it is.”

She didn’t understand how he could accept it so readily. She couldn’t and it wasn’t happening to her — not the same way anyway. She didn’t suffer when she was still with one of her spouses and Charlie was away. Not the way he did anyway. She yearned for him, yes, but she didn’t think it would drain her the way it obviously did him.

It worried her to think about it, wondering how much of the bond Fred and George might be masking from her. They weren’t doing well, while she was practically thrumming with vitality from having Charlie so near and the way he touched her constantly in some form or another.

Right now, she melted into his arms and inhaled his scent — fire and spices and Charlie. In moments like this, she could have been perfectly happy if he never let her go. She tipped her head back as he tilted his down and they shared a triumphant kiss. They had more work to do, but they had convinced Mikal to let them try it. Charlie would get to keep two of his favorite dragons. It was worth celebrating.

When she pulled away, Hermione grinned up at him. “Can we go see more dragons now?”

*************

Percy threw his office door closed and slammed his back against it, loosening his tie and running a hand through his meticulously combed hair. He had no idea how the situation could have changed so drastically in less than 24 hours, but he was overwhelmed by the emotions that were coming into play now.

Miss Penny was going to cane him for this.

The first rule was not to let emotions into the play. He hadn’t just let them in. Thanks to the bizarre, loving bondgasm yesterday, he had practically marinated in them. Now Percy couldn’t look at the Minister without thinking sweet thoughts. He wanted to walk over and hug the man, kiss him, hold his hand.

Yes, he also still wanted to make Kingsley suck his cock and beat him with his favorite paddle. But it would be different now. He was dying to know how different. To feel that difference. There hadn’t been time yesterday. When it happened, they had been in the middle of a stolen moment of time. Letting Percy dominate him between meetings was risky — and far more of a turn-on for both of them because of it.

Percy could still remember how powerful he felt as he bent that beautiful man over his own desk — the desk of the Minister of Magic, the official magical insignia glowing behind them. The look of submission on the Minister’s face as he followed orders and didn’t look away from Percy was exactly what he wanted. The way Kingsley had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out as the paddle hit him, silently thanks to the magic Percy was using, knowing they would be interrupted by the Aurors on duty if he made the noises he needed to… it was all perfect.

But then the tidal wave of emotions hit. Percy remembered the look of confusion on Kingsley’s face, undoubtedly a reflection of his own, and then the widening of his eyes as Percy suddenly dropped the paddle, slipping his arms around the Minister’s back, pulling him up, spinning him around and in close for their first kiss. Merlin, he couldn’t stop thinking about that damned kiss.

And now… Now Percy’s job was a strain as he struggled not to show his feelings. He hated when his work was disrupted by anything — especially something as irritating as his own emotions. His own bond-fueled emotions. This bond was a bloody mess, though he couldn’t entirely say he was mad about it.

Hermione… she made it worth it. She was going to be the perfect little submissive for him. He just had to train her properly. But he wouldn’t ever get that opportunity if he couldn’t pull himself together and stop feeling things for his boss and client. It had been a tough enough situation before emotions complicated things.

He didn’t have time to think about it further because there was a firm knock. He knew instantly who it was and felt his heartbeat pick up speed as he opened the door.

“Minister?” he offered as coldly as he could manage.

The look in Kingsley’s eyes said Percy wasn’t fooling him. He pushed past Percy into the office and waited impatiently for his stunned secretary to close the door and lock them in. The moment Percy did so, Kingsley was on him. The man’s plush lips pressed against Percy’s own, the Minister’s words rolling over him against his skin.

“I can’t stop thinking about you now. It was hard enough before, but now it’s impossible,” Kingsley said. “What did you do to me?”

“Nothing,” Percy whispered, hoping to avoid giving Kingsley the opening to make the kiss toe-curling good. He failed. His toes might never straighten out again. But since he couldn’t — didn’t want to — shrink away from the situation, Percy tried to turn the tables, taking command of the situation again to pressure Kingsley into breaking the kiss.

To Percy’s shame, it didn’t work. One of Kingsley’s large hands cupped Percy’s jaw and held him effectively in place. Where had this strength come from? Percy was astounded, frightened, and aroused, all of it intently.

When Kingsley moved his lips away from Percy’s, Percy chased him, wanting more. “Not right now, little Secretary. I have a secret, Percy.”

“Wh-what is it, Minister?” Percy asked, sticking to his boss’s title as Kingsley’s request had made clear so long ago he should.

“I like to dominate almost as much as I like to be dominated.”

Percy gulped. “That wasn’t our arrangement.”

“Neither was whatever happened yesterday. This was just a fun release before that, but… I can’t stop how I feel about you now. I can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop wanting you against me. You’re like an addiction in my veins.”

“I sound painful,” Percy commented before he could think better of it.

Kingsley laughed. “You are. You are absolutely a pain in my arse, but you’re going to be worth every moment we have together. And I’ll be worth it for you.”

The man leaned into him, dragging his face close, his lips hovering just a half inch from Percy’s, waiting for him to close the distance.

But Percy couldn’t let him get the upper hand any more than he already had. He couldn’t deny the feelings he too had been fighting since yesterday, but if they were going to do this, he was going to remain in control. He had to.

Instead of leaning into the kiss, Percy ran his hand down Kingsley’s body, pushing aside the official robes, only stopping when he felt the man’s rock hard cock straining against his trousers. Percy’s own twitched in response. Though he traced a finger up and down Kingsley’s hardened length, Percy still didn’t lean into the kiss.

Kingsley growled low in his throat and, before Percy could stroke him properly, the man covered the distance between them, plundering his mouth when Percy gasped in surprise. He was even more surprised when Kingsley abruptly stopped, casting a Tempus charm and shaking his head.

“I have a meeting, but we’re not finished here.”

“N-no we’re not,” Percy replied. “You have a session scheduled tonight.” He could bring this back to business as usual. He could.

Kingsley laughed as he gently pushed Percy back into the middle of the room and left, looking completely unruffled.

Percy’s heart was flying, trying to soar with excitement, but he clamped it down. He couldn’t let this happen. It would affect his work — both here and for Penny. And what about Hermione? How would this fit into that already complicated situation? Kingsley didn’t even know about the full family marriage, just the twins. And as much as Percy might like the man, he wasn’t sure he could be trusted with that information. Merlin, what a mess.

Yet, a happy sigh left him before he could control it, thinking about the Minister’s lips on his. Percy’s own emotions were betraying him. He scowled at the mirror across from his door and stormed over to his desk. He was going to make himself a list. If he couldn’t control his emotions, he could at least sort this out on paper and get control of the situation that way.

*************

Charlie laughed at another of his friends’ jokes, but he wasn’t really focused on them. He was watching Hermione surrounded by a circle of the Reserve’s researchers. They had found her almost instantly after Mikal and Florin made their toasts earlier. Merlin only knew what they were discussing, but Charlie wanted to find out.

Only, he didn’t want to abandon his friends, either. He had no idea when he would see them again. Hermione could catch him up later.

“You can’t stop looking at her, can you?” Rolf teased.

Charlie jumped, having not realized the other man was nearby. The crowd around them laughed as Charlie blushed. “No, I can’t,” he admitted. There was no point in denying it.

“Not a bad thing since you’re saddled with her forever,” Eric grumbled. He was one of the younger handlers Charlie had trained a couple of years ago. He wasn’t taking Charlie’s leaving very well.

Then again, many of them weren’t. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration, but it was much quieter than had first been planned. Some people hadn’t even shown up. It hurt a little, but Charlie understood. Losing a good handler was always hard and, though he wouldn’t brag about it unless he were deep in his cups, Charlie knew he was one of the best.

“My grandfather has good things to say about Hermione Granger. I imagine she’s worth it,” Rolf commented in an easy-going defense. Everyone listened a little more closely whenever Rolf brought up his grandfather, so many heads nodded that might not have before. Charlie was grateful.

“The real question is what she can do in bed,” his friend Andrei declared, arching an eyebrow in invitation of an answer.

Charlie laughed, but he knew he was blushing again, his mind calling up images of her in the shower that morning, of the feel of being inside her when they bonded. Maybe he did want to go over to her now, talk her into leaving the party…

“With that monster he has and how tiny she is?” Charlie didn’t catch who had made the crude statement, though he suspected Darrick. Whoever it was, they were right at how improbable it seemed.

“She’s mindblowing,” he stated, not giving them the details they probably wanted, but at least confirming his wife would make him a happy man.

“Bet that’s not all she’s blowing,” Andrei said snidely, making a gesture that set everyone laughing.

Charlie just grinned and raised his cup to them before downing the alcohol in a single gulp. It burned down his throat as he turned toward Hermione, surprised to find her already heading his way.

“What have you been up to?” he asked.

“Oh, they were telling me all about their latest research on the inherent magic inside dragons and its effects on the environment where they live,” she said excitedly. He loved the glow in her eyes when she started talking about something so academic.

“No, girl,” Andrei said. “Don’t you get him talking about that stuff. You’ve got a whole life to listen to him go on about the wonders of dragons and their magic and what it does to whatever. Tonight’s for dancing. You’re coming with me.”

Before Charlie could do more than put up a token protest, Andrei had stolen Hermione and was swinging her around, making a ridiculous spectacle as she laughed. Darrick stepped in next, changing to a respectable waltz.

Charlie lost count after that, but he was fairly certain every man on the Reserve danced with her at least once, maybe a few times, before he managed to wrangle his wife away from them for a dance of his own. The moon was high in the sky by then.

He pulled her close and whispered, “You look beautiful dancing under the stars.”

“Are you sure I don’t look worn down and ready to fall on my bum in the grass?” she asked with a sweet little laugh.

“They have kept you at it for a while,” he acknowledged. “Thank you for dancing with me, too.”

“I’ll always dance with you,” she replied, gazing up into his eyes. Charlie got the feeling she had been waiting for this all night, just like he had.

“Are you ready for our bed after this dance?” he asked.

“For the bed yes, though I have plans before we go to sleep,” she informed him with a no-nonsense tone.

“Plans?” he asked teasingly. “Are you going to tell me about them?”

“No,” she said with a smile. “I think you’ll enjoy discovering them yourself.”

“I do like to explore,” he told her, eyebrows raised.

Hermione just smiled back at him before turning her cheek to his chest and snuggling in. Talking to his friends had made the concept of leaving hard again, but feeling her in his arms confirmed his choice. There wasn’t much of a choice, but there might be after she and Bill figured out the bond issues.

For him, though, Charlie knew he would still want to be with her rather than countries away with just visits, whether the bond released its hold or not.

As the song ended, Hermione kept her hand in his. He raised his voice to call goodnight to the few still remaining and began leading her away to the cabin.

*********

Hermione was nervous as they made their way inside. She had loved the idea of surprising him when she dressed for the party, but now she feared he would think she was slutty when he discovered all his friends had danced with her in this state. Somehow, despite that worry, she found herself turned on by the idea.

“Now what plans do I have to find out about?” Charlie asked her teasingly.

“Well, it has to do with what’s under my dress,” she prompted.

“Am I going to like it?” he asked, his eyes skimming down her body in a way that made Hermione’s skin heat.

“You better!” she retorted.

“Let’s get rid of this dress then,” he suggested, whirling her around so fast Hermione was nearly dizzy and gently unzipping the dress down to its end at the small of her back. When he passed her back with no sign of a bra, she heard him suck in a breath. It was nothing to the groan he made when he realized she hadn’t been wearing knickers either.

Charlie’s breathing was shallow when he said, “You were at that party with only your dress on? I held you in my arms and danced with you hardly more than naked?”

“I danced with all your friends barely better than naked,” she pointed out, wondering how he would take it.

As a turn-on apparently, since he breathed, “For me. You danced with everyone there, but here you are in my cabin.”

“You’re my husband. I’ll always come back to your cabin.”

“And let me see what’s under your dress,” he noted, running his hands down her sides as he pulled her closer.

“This is hardly fair with you still completely dressed,” Hermione pouted.

“Not everything is fair, Draga.”

Charlie sat down on the sofa, drawing her between his knees. He leaned close, taking a pebbled nipple in between his lips as his fingers played down to her slit. “My, someone is wet and ready for attention.”

“I’ve had a lot of attention tonight,” she said, “But not enough from the man I want.”

“He’s a lucky man,” Charlie commented as he slid a finger inside her.

Hermione let out a throaty moan before saying, “You’ll want to work them all in.”

Charlie stilled. “All of them? You can’t mean to take me? Without the magic, I’m too much.”

“Who says we won’t have the magic? And who says you’re too much? I think you’re perfect,” she declared.

“But—”

She put a finger to his lips, then leaned down and occupied them with her own. Hermione kissed him hard as he continued to add fingers to her pussy, preparing her despite his protests. He had apparently learned that she got what she wanted.

And right now she wanted him undressed. Tugging at his shirt, she pouted when he smiled and said, “Don’t you think you’re naked enough for both of us?”

“Not anymore,” she argued playfully. When he still made no move to divest himself of clothing, instead distracting her by curling his fingers — three of them now — up to stroke her g-spot. Hermione moaned at the touch, her breathing coming more harshly as everything spiraled.

A coil of heat spread through her body as electricity shot down her spine. His fingers were everything. Hermione knew nothing but the feel of them. There was a scream somewhere, but she couldn’t identify it as her own since she was flying, seeing only white before her.

Charlie’s mouth was on her neck, tenderly kissing up and down as she thrashed against him, still standing in between his knees. Hermione was certain she was going to collapse at any second, or would have if he hadn’t been holding her up with his powerful grip.

As she came down from her high, Charlie inserted a fourth finger, grinning at her as he did. “You distracted me so I wouldn’t start taking off your clothes,” she accused.

“Guilty,” he told her unabashedly.

Instead of pouting, Hermione wandlessly banished his clothing, startling the man and making him laugh. She wasn’t laughing, though. She was hungrily reaching for his cock. Charlie nearly purred at her when her hand wrapped as far around him as she could get it. His tip was wet with pre-cum.

“Let’s move this into the bedroom,” he suggested, scooping her up before she could protest that the sofa was fine. Hermione would be happy to christen every surface in his cabin before they left.

For tonight, she found herself back on the bed. Surprisingly, Charlie laid her down and hovered over her. She had expected him to insist she be on top again.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked her.

“Completely,” she replied. “I want you inside me.”

“It could hurt you if the magic doesn’t—”

“Do you not feel it between us?” she asked, knowing that the swirls of power around them couldn’t just be her imagination. There was something particularly potent about her bond with Charlie.

“I do,” he admitted. “I just—”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Hermione chided. “Please fill me, Charlie. I’m ready for you.”

She reached for his cock and he allowed her to help guide him to her pussy. Just the tip pushed into her and Hermione was already feeling the stretch, but it was so good. It felt so perfect to have him slowly sliding into her.

Charlie pushed, inch by inch, until he was seated as deeply inside her as he could go. She could tell by the sheen of sweat on his body that it was, again, hard for him to hold back once he was inside her velvety heat.

“Now move,” Hermione commanded. “Pull back out and push in as fast as you can.”

“I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t. Do it and see.”

He stared down at her for a long moment, then began the slow drag of pulling himself out, groaning the whole time. When he pushed back in, he did it faster. It was nothing like being pounded into, but as his lips met hers and he pulled himself out and pushed back in, it was perfect.

Hermione was so full that he hit all the right places inside her. And as if that wasn’t enough, Charlie reached between them and began flicking at her clit.

“Charlie!” she squealed. “I’m going to come again if you do that.”

“That was the idea,” he said, his voice strained.

“But you—”

“I’m going to explode soon. Come with me, Draga,” he managed to grit out.

She couldn’t answer. Her world was crashing around her in the best way. The white blankness of her earlier orgasm was nothing compared to the stars she was seeing now.

Charlie slammed into her harder than ever before and she could feel his throbbing cock as it shot into her.

They both screamed as they came and came. It felt never-ending. The magic around them released just as hard.

When she was able to breathe again, Hermione blurted her first thought. “Do you think they felt that back in Britain?”

“I can’t believe the whole world didn’t feel it,” Charlie panted. He pulled out of her and cast a contraception charm above her abdomen. Hermione was surprised to find that her magic didn’t seem to like it. But there were better things to contemplate.

“Do you think it will always be like this?” she asked.

“Always with you, Draga,” he mumbled as he pulled her sleepily into his chest.

Chapter 25

Notes:

Surprise!

Thanks to Camp NaNo and the amazing writing challenges at DFW, another chapter has arrived. I might actually be getting caught up on my writing again. Still no promises on when you'll get the next chapter here. They come as the muse hits.

Thank you to Lady WinterLight and Astrangefan for their alpha/beta'ing.

Hermione was not amused by the pounding on the door, especially when it turned out that the sky outside the window was still dark. Charlie, however, sprung out of bed as though this were normal, only slightly disheveled when he realized he was tangled up with her in the sheets.

“Sorry, draga,” he said when he saw her blinking up at him. “I’m on my way!” he called in response to another pounding at the door.

“This happens when there’s an emergency,” Charlie explained.

“You don’t work here anymore,” Hermione pointed out.

“No, but I’m here now,” he said. “I’ll be back before you know it. Go on back to sleep. I’ll wake you up in a much better way when the sun’s up.” He winked at her before hastening into his clothes and out of the bedroom. Minutes later, she heard the front door open, the sound of rushed voices, and the closing of the door.

Part of her wanted to get up and find out what the commotion was about, but the sheets were still warm and she was surrounded by Charlie’s woodsy scent. Hermione was out again before she could really think about getting up.

Someone was shaking her awake, but she couldn’t tell who. Hermione’s wand was in her hand, slanted just under the person’s chin, before her eyes began adjusting to the dim sunlight of early morning.

She blinked a few times before she recognized his face. Florin looked slightly panicked as he held up his hands to show they were empty. “The Healers need you!”

“Healers?” she questioned as she pulled the sheets tight around herself, keeping her wand squarely in place. “How did you get in here?”

The gruff older man shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I’m keyed to my best mate’s wards, lass. He’s hurt. Put the wand down so we can go.”

Hermione slowly lowered the wand, but kept it in her hand. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I don’t wake up well since the war.”

“I understand,” Florin said, watching her warely for a moment before saying, “Get a move on, lass. He needs you.”

With that, Florin left the bedroom and Hermione rushed to get her clothes on, worry making her fingers clumsy as she pulled things on and tried to get her shoes on quickly.

“I’m ready,” she announced as she rushed out into the living room. Florin looked relieved and held out his arm.

“Apparate?” he asked simply.

“Of course,” she agreed, stepping forward. “What happened?” she asked just before she felt the tug on her magic and the awful feel of being Side-Alonged.

Florin didn’t miss a beat in answering. “Ol’ Gus was being stroppy about his mate and went berserk. We almost had him calmed down when one of the newbies tripped over their own damn feet and clattered against the water trough we use for bathing them. Gus would’ve killed him if Charlie hadn’t jumped in.”

“Damn lucky Charlie moves as fast as he does,” one of the other men said.

Another nodded. “But no one could move fast enough to get the kid out and not get hit.”

“Don’t scare her,” Florin snapped, as though he hadn’t already made her heart hurt with fear of what condition she would find Charlie in.

“Mrs. Weasley?” a man in green Healer’s robes called.

“I’m here,” she replied, rushing his way.

“Florin, you can come too,” the man said.

Charlie’s friend rushed to her side, holding the door open as Hermione went first. Her first sight of Charlie was his flaming hair, but as she approached, she could see that his lower back and all down his left leg were bandaged.

He was laying on his stomach, his eyes tightly shut.

“We gave him a Sleeping Potion while his wounds knit back together, as well as the pain potions, of course. He’s still hurting, based on the tension in his body, but it’s a sight better than he would be without us.”

Hermione was surprised that the explanation came from a gruff but feminine voice. Turning, she saw a small witch with wild black hair. She had a crooked nose with a wart and looked tremendously like a muggle Halloween decoration. “Are you Jay?” Hermione asked, having heard stories about the Head Healer without realizing she was a woman.

“I am,” the witch answered. “And not at all what you were expecting, I imagine. They find it amusing to surprise people with me.” She rolled her eyes without any real anger.

“What are his injuries?” Hermione asked, more worried about Charlie than about the Head Healer being a witch.

All business now, Jay said, “The main issue was getting clawed on his lower back, though the burn over it and down his leg didn’t help.”

Hermione stared down at him, tracing all the burn and scar marks across his skin as well as the many tattoos moving around. She loved the different dragons of all ages and breeds. There was only one that confused her.

Reaching out without thinking, she ran her fingers along the lone still tattoo. It was still a dragon, of course. When she traced the outline, it tingled from her finger all through her blood, like a tiny surge of electricity in her veins. Jay reached out and caught her hand.

“Now is hardly the time,” the older witch admonished her.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione hastily cried. “It just surprised me that he would have one that doesn’t move. It’s muggle, I guess?”

Florin and Jay looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Did he not tell you?” Jay asked, sounding more irritated now than she had about Hermione touching him. Hermione felt a sudden sense of foreboding. Whatever this was, she wasn’t going to like it.

When Florin spoke, his tone was classic dragon tamer calming voice. “Lass, have you never heard of a soulmate tattoo?”

“A what?” she asked.

“You know,” he coaxed, his voice hopeful. “When fated soulmates meet and touch for the first time, a matching tattoo appears on each of them — if they’re both over 19.”

Hermione felt her world spinning just a bit. “So this is a soulmate tattoo? He has a soulmate out there somewhere?”

The two exchanged another look. “This is probably a conversation the two of you should have when he wakes,” Florin suggested.

Her mind was whirring. She wasn’t sure why she was reacting so strongly. Of course Charlie wasn’t meant to be with her. He had a whole other life before their forced marriage. And he was the one having to change the most. How could she have thought he was happy in all this?

“He’s never found his soulmate, you know. Not unless he came across her lately. You’re sure you don’t have the match? He can’t find her because he has no idea how long it was on his back before someone else noticed and mentioned it to him.”

“I don’t,” Hermione asserted, but then she paused. “Though I guess I wouldn’t? What happens if one of the soulmates isn’t 19 yet?”

Jay and Florin both blinked at her, looked to one another again, then with relief, Jay smiled. “Oh! How ridiculous we didn’t mention it. His is still black. I’m sure it will all work out fine, dear. I hadn’t expected him to go cradle robbing, but if you’re soulmates, it makes sense. He would be drawn to you even if you aren’t old enough for the tattoo yet.”

“I will be soon,” she said, not wanting them to think badly of him despite her spiraling thoughts. There were so many factors they couldn’t know, but Hermione was at least going to do her best not to let them think poorly of him for this. “In September. What do you mean about it being black?”

“Well, we’ll have the proof then,” Florin said confidently. “They’ll be gold as soon as both soulmates are of age. So his appeared years ago as a black tattoo, but when yours appears, it will come in gold straight away.”

“If I’m the soulmate,” Hermione heard herself say. She felt a bit like she was outside of her body, just observing what was happening to her. She couldn’t let herself get attached to the idea that she was his soulmate. She had told them all that they didn’t have to be faithful to her and obviously she wouldn’t step between Charlie and whoever he was actually meant to be with.

“I’m certain you are,” Jay told her.

“Are you some sort of seer?” she asked, not mockingly, she was ignoring her disdain of Divination for the moment.

“No, but I know people pretty well, and anyone could see last night how much of him belongs to you.” Jay paused, perhaps for dramatic effect. “All of him, in case you’re worried.”

Hermione was worried, but the other witch’s assertion helped somewhat. Slowly, she reached over to run her hand through Charlie’s hair. They would be having a talk about him not telling her he had a soulmate out there somewhere. And she was adding that subject to her pile of eventual research to do. But ultimately, it didn’t matter. She loved Charlie, whether from magic or just because he was so lovable, and trusted him. They would work through it when the soulmate showed up.

*************

Ginny scrubbed the dish in her hand vigorously, determined not to give in to her desire to have a screaming match with a painting. No matter what she did, Walburga Black wouldn’t shut up about blood traitors. Ginny wasn’t sure how the old bitch had discovered that Hermione was married to all of them, but she clearly knew and she had disgusting opinions about it.

It almost made living at the twins’ flat appealing. Better yet, she could move to Shell Cottage, but then she wouldn’t have Harry. There wasn’t space for both of them to move in. Besides, she was afraid Harry wouldn’t want to. Ginny didn’t want to depend on Harry. Or anyone, except maybe Hermione, but she still wanted him around.

Yes, the past year she had gotten very close to Neville and Luna, being trapped in the castle with everyone looking to them to lead the resistance. There had been no choice. There would always be a bond between the three of them. But it wasn’t the same as her closeness with Harry, even now.

Ginny sighed, wondering where he was, what Hermione was doing, and why that goddamn painting wouldn’t shut up now that she had the curtains drawn over her again. Merlin, she wanted some elvish wine. Or muggle wine. Any wine. Or firewhiskey. All the things she couldn’t have.

Her irritability was going to drive her insane. The worst part was not knowing which factor of her life it was coming from — was it the pregnancy making her moody or the distance from Hermione? When Ginny thought about the connection to her wife, it felt tight and strained. Uncomfortable.

Thinking about it made her more irritable, so she tried to quit.

“Ginevra?” a lilting, accented voice sounded through the house.

Ginny dropped the plate back into the sink, throwing a Reparo over her shoulder when she heard it shatter.

As she expected, Fleur’s head was floating in the fireplace. “What’s wrong?” Ginny demanded, her impatience not allowing for politeness.

“Eez your Mum still allowed through ze wards zere?” Flear asked urgently.

Ginny blinked. “I have no idea. I think… Surely Harry would have changed them…”

“‘E eez not zere?”

“No,” Ginny confirmed.

“Come through,” her sister-in-law urged. “I zink your Mum eez on ‘er way.”

“What would make you think that?”

Fleur gave her a sincere look. “You weel be safer ‘ere. Zere eez not time to argue.”

Tamping down her desire to argue just to release some of her pent up frustration, Ginny snapped, “Get out of the floo then.”

When she stepped into the living room of Shell Cottage, Ginny almost immediately felt more relaxed. Perhaps it was the cheerful airiness, or the lack of the screaming painting. Or maybe it was her gorgeous sister-in-law reaching an arm out to steady her, a concerned look in her eyes.

“You should seet,” Fleur said, practically dragging her to the sofa. “Your Mum was just ‘ere looking for you. I deed not tell ‘er where you were staying, but I zink she weel check everyone’s ‘ouse, including ‘Arry’s.”

“What did she want?” Ginny asked, her blood running cold at the idea of her Mum getting her hands on her again. She had always thought of her Mum as overprotective, but loving and generally benign. Her father dying had just pushed her over the edge. If she were a better person, Ginny might have felt sorry for her.

But she wasn’t, especially when that woman was trying to trap her in The Burrow and keep her away from her family, even knowing that Hermione was her wife and would have the right to “keep” her.

“Ze same thing she wanted before,” Fleur sniffed. “To make you leeve at ‘ome — ‘er ‘ome. I zink you’ll be safer somewhere she ‘as already been.”

Ginny wanted to stand up and say her Mum didn’t scare her, but she found she couldn’t. The situation would be angering if that were the end of the issue. Ginny wasn’t afraid to go toe to toe with her Mum on the issue of being set free to be with her family. But knowing there was a baby and the explosion that would come when Mum found out…

“Oh Merlin!” she suddenly gasped.

“What eez eet? What eez wrong?” Fleur asked, her concern immediate.

“Did we get that tapestry away from Mum after she enchanted it?”

Fleur paled. “I do not know,” she admitted. “Per’aps Beel ‘as eet. Or ‘Ermione.”

“Can we… at least Bill… can we ask?” Ginny begged.

“Of course, petite soeur,” Fleur assured her. “‘E eez weeth Aunt Muriel now. I weel contact ‘im.”

**********

The pain in Charlie’s back dragged him awake as the pain potions he knew he had needed wore off. He didn’t really remember anything after jumping in front of Augustus’ attack, but he knew it would have involved claws and fire. He was not surprised by the pain, but it did take him a few moments to realize that Hermione was asleep in the chair next to him, her hand in his much larger one.

He must have been out for a while if they brought her here and she was asleep again. Or not very long at all, but he doubted they would have brought her to see him immediately after it happened.

No one else was in the room, which was a shame as he would need to wake her so that Jay could get him some more potions — and undoubtedly change the bandaging. Merlin, Hermione was going to kill him when she saw how bad it was.

“Draga?” he gritted out against the pain and his dry throat.

Hermione stirred and, after he softly called her name, opened her eyes. “Charlie!” she cried, squeezing his hand. “How do you feel? Healer Jay said—”

“Awful,” he admitted, in too much pain to hear what the Healer had said.

Giving him an exasperated look, Hermione gave him a potion. “Once that kicks in you should be in a little less pain and then I’m to go get Jay,” she explained.

He moaned as he drank down the pain potion and his pain cut in half. Finally able to breathe again, he apologized. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this. It happens sometimes—”

“When you decide to play hero, from what I’ve heard,” she responded.

Looking down, Charlie wondered if he should apologize again when her hand came up to his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, but I hate seeing you in pain,” she told him.

Hermione stood and he watched her walk from the room, his eyes glued to her arse. This was definitely going to put a damper on his plans for the rest of their brief stay. His thoughts were cut off by Jay striding into the room with Hermione nearly running to keep up with her.

“Well let’s see how bad they still are,” she said, not sugarcoating what this was going to look like.

For the first time, Charlie worried about it just a little. He had never cared before what he looked like. There had never been anyone whose opinion he cared about when it came to the condition of his body. Hermione didn’t seem bothered by all his scars, but fresh ones always looked worse.

Jay whistled when she got the bandages off. “You are one lucky SOB,” she proclaimed. “Those claws just went deep. They barely missed your artery, making this much easier to heal. It’ll scar, but not too badly. The burn down your leg is already better. .”

“It hurts like a bitch,” he admitted.

“It should,” Jay told him. “Maybe you’ll think before you do something so stupid next time.”

Charlie chuckled. “You know me better than that.”

The witch rolled her eyes. “No argument there. Now, I’m going to rewrap this and then you can have the second pain potion — after you talk to your wife.”

“That sounds ominous,” Charlie said, smiling over at Hermione. His heart stopped when she wouldn’t meet his eyes. What had happened while he was out?

Neither she nor Jay answered. More ominous still. “You’re done,” Jay said briskly. “Hermione, you may administer the potion when you’re ready to let him have it.”

Charlie didn’t like the sound of that at all. “What did I do?” he asked before the door had finished closing behind Jay.

“You know I like your tattoos,” Hermione said softly. “Especially the ones that usually stay on your back.”

He suddenly felt like squirming. He hadn’t ever told her…

“With you laying on your stomach so long, I really noticed the one that doesn’t move. It stood out. And so they explained.”

“They?” he asked. The pain in his back had receded as fear stole his heart. What if she was angry? That was stupid. Of course she was angry.

“Florin and Jay had to explain it to me since I had never heard of soulmates except as a silly Muggle concept. I had no idea they could be real. That you could have someone who really is your other half out there somewhere—”

Charlie cut her off. “It doesn’t matter! I’m not running off to find someone I don’t know. Whoever they are, they don’t matter to me the way you do.”

“You can’t say that when you don’t know who they are. When it turns gold, you have to promise me you will try to find them, Charlie,” Hermione insisted. There was a tear rolling down her cheek.

It broke his heart.

“Please don’t cry. It’s going to be okay, Draga, Hermione. They wouldn’t have known it to tell you, but it appeared in ‘94, the year of the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament. I met a lot of younger witches that year, shook hands with most of them. It’s why I’ve never been able to narrow it down.”

“I was one of the witches,” Hermione said aloud as she realized it.

“You were,” Charlie acknowledged. “You turn 19 in the fall right?”

“September 19th,” she confirmed.

He stared her straight in the eyes and promised, “That’s the day it’ll turn gold. I just know it.”

Hermione shook her head and more tears flowed down. When she was able to catch a breath, she said, “I’m sorry Charlie. I didn’t mean for you to see me upset about it. I knew that each of you would have other partners if you want them and that includes you, too. I don’t know why I’m so upset about this.”

“It’s okay to be upset. I didn’t tell you about it. In a way, I lied to you. You can be angry with me. Please be angry now so we can work through it.” Making a lame attempt at a joke, he added, “I can’t very well run from it right now.”

She laughed, but it turned into a sob. “I don’t appreciate that you didn’t tell me about it,” she agreed.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I was waiting for the right time… No. Really I was hoping it just wouldn’t be an issue until it turned and you have the matching one,” Charlie explained, never looking away from her face, even when he had to admit how long he had intended to put this off.

“Charlie. It’s very sweet to pretend it’s going to be me, but you don’t know that. And you may feel devoted to me now, but when you find your soulmate—”

“I will always be devoted to you, Hermione. Even if someone else came into my life — which I can’t begin to imagine — I would still be devoted to you. I said it in that ritual and I bloody well meant it,” Charlie swore. He wasn’t going to let her think she didn’t mean everything to him.

“I’m not trying to question your commitment,” Hermione huffed. “I just mean that you shouldn’t bind yourself to me when someone else may—”

“I’m already bound and I love it. Being with you makes me happier than dragons do,” he explained emphatically.

There was a gasp behind them and they both turned to see Florin standing there, looking comically taken aback. “Happier than the dragons make you, lad? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Charlie said with a grin. He couldn’t contain the enjoyment of seeing Florin’s expression.

Florin shook his head. “If you didn’t believe you were his soulmate before, you should now,” he told Hermione.

Seemingly despite herself, Hermione laughed. “Maybe so,” she conceded. She still didn’t look convinced and Charlie wanted to keep arguing, but Florin seemed to be there with purpose. Indeed, he quickly began talking.

“Augustus has been moved into the infirmary with Esme. They decided he was too dangerous, separated from her, and she is healed enough to have him with her while she finishes her recovery.”

“Good for him,” Charlie grunted. The talk of that damn dragon brought his pain back into focus. It wasn’t as bad as it could be, but he wanted that second potion and some more sleep rather badly. He knew from many past experiences that by the time he woke again, he would be feeling much better and have new scars rather than open wounds.

“Hermione—” he started, but her hand was already on the potion bottle. She handed it to him and Charlie swigged down the disgusting concoction before slurring, “We’re not done talking about how much I’m yours.”

His sentence and vision both became more blurry as he spoke, sliding quickly into sleep with a last image of Hermione staring at him while she petted his hair.

*************

Aunt Muriel sat at the table across from Bill while he poured through one of the tomes on law that she had set out for him. His head was aching with all the information he was cramming into it, but he was grateful. Sort of.

“It’s all well and good to know how to address the right Lords and Ladies based on their House and station, but it’s just a show if you don’t know the laws you’ll be voting on as well,” his great-aunt lectured.

She had been quizzing him for what felt like hours already. He was just lucky that she let him look up the answers when he didn’t know — which was most of the time.

It was exhausting, but Bill had to admit he was already feeling more ready for truly being the Head of two Noble Houses.

 

His titles sounded so ostentatious, but somehow it was true. Things were going to be so different, already were. Aunt Muriel had even offered to have him and Fleur move into Prewett’s Folly with her, the seat of Prewett House.

He had turned her down, of course. Nothing sounded more horrible than living with Aunt Muriel and, besides, they loved Shell Cottage.

Or they had, before. Hermione’s reaction had reminded him and Fleur both how much blood and pain the little house had seen as people stopped in to recover. In some ways, that was a good thing. They didn’t lose anyone. But there were blood stains under some of the rugs and memories Bill would rather not have himself or Fleur think about when they looked around their home. But none of that would convince him to move in with Aunt Muriel.

Then there was the fact that she hadn’t invited Hermione. Of course, she didn’t know that he was married to her as well, but… Bill didn’t like it. That part of him that was so drawn to Hermione rebelled at the very idea of leaving her out of their home.

He wondered if he should just come clean and tell Aunt Muriel the whole truth of what they had done. Honestly, he was surprised Mum hadn’t already been here to inform her. But Aunt Muriel was perfectly calm and focused today. She had even praised him once. None of that would be true if she knew they had used the Weasley Legacies to marry the pretty little witch to all seven of them. She would be outraged and ripping him apart.

As Bill studied the laws, he wondered again if he should be ripped apart. What they had done wasn’t illegal, but it would certainly be looked down on if anyone ever found out. Merlin, what Muriel would do to him…

“Aunt Muriel!”

Bill heard his Mum’s shriek and instantly felt his body tense even more than it was, the pounding in his head increasing. She sounded half hysterical.

He was surprised to see the older woman huff and roll her eyes before saying, “Continue your reading there. You certainly have a lot yet to learn about the 1921 Treaty of the Houses.” Then, as her ancient heels clicked on the tiles of the foyer, she snapped, “Molly Lucretia, stop howling like a banshee. You can conduct yourself with more decorum—”

“Have you seen my daughter?” Molly demanded.

Bill wasn’t sure if he was glad he could hear the exchange or horrified. Mum was still after Ginny?

“Your daughter? That wild thing? Of course not. She wouldn’t come here if you dragged her. Surely you know your own child well enough—”

“Of course I do! But she’s nowhere I would have expected her to be and I have to find her or it will be shame on our family.” Molly told her aunt, sounding frantic.

He could almost visualize Aunt Muriel’s glare. “Why? Is she dying? That would be a shame.” Bill had never realized how sarcastic the old woman was until he had started spending all of his free time with her.

Molly stepped through the floo without an invitation. “Worse, Aunt Muriel. She’s pregnant!”

Muriel gasped. Bill felt his body stiffen completely. How the bloody hell had Mum found out? He knew no one would have told her. So how… that damn tapestry. Surely they hadn’t left it behind? Digging his palms into his eyes, Bill worked to convince himself to stay seated and just see how the conversation played out.

“Pregnant? By the Potter boy?” Aunt Muriel clarified. Bill recognized a calculating quality in her tone.

“Yes!” Molly responded.

There was a long pause in which he could almost envision his Mum squirming under her aunt’s gaze before Muriel burst out, “This is perfect! We’ll have to put the wedding together quickly, of course. But having a grand state affair will erase the memory of that funeral you lot put on. And to the Savior of the Wizarding World. It couldn’t get any better!”

“You think— What?” Molly stumbled on her words.

“I think it’s the most wonderful thing that could happen. We’ll have to tutor her at home next year instead of sending her to Hogwarts, of course. We can announce the baby when it’s the right time and—”

“She can’t marry him! She’s already married to that little harlot!” Molly screamed.

Oh Merlin. Bill rose from his chair, knowing he was about to be called in anyway.

“What on earth do you mean?” Aunt Muriel demanded.

“You believed them about the soulbond with the twins, didn’t you? You think that Hermione is good enough for the two of them, but you don’t realize what they really did!” Molly was practically spitting her words when Bill made it to the door. In her hands, she held the damned tapestry.

Aunt Muriel whirled around to look at him, a foreboding look on her face. Bill almost felt the confession drawn from him. “We mixed the ritual with one from the Weasley Legacies. Hermione is soulbound to the twins. But she’s also married to all of us, including Ginny.” At the horrified look on his great-aunt’s face, words he didn’t mean tumbled from his mouth. “But that won’t bar her from marrying someone else. Dad was part of the same ritual and was still able to marry Mum.”

“Arthur was married to someone else?” Aunt Muriel paled dramatically as she repeated this piece of information.

“It wasn’t like this,” she asserted.

Bill shook his head. “It was exactly like this,” he said, putting a little bit of magical force into what he said, just to be sure they heard him. He wasn’t entirely certain it was true considering how tightly bound they all were, but that wasn’t the point.

“Arthur was married to someone else and you married him anyway?” Aunt Muriel repeated.

Molly looked scared, like she thought her aunt was going to attack her. “Mum and Dad knew, but Dad was afraid of what you would think so we never told you. It was just a marriage in name. They shared a chaste kiss for the ritual. That was all.”

Something clicked in Bill’s mind as he heard that. Had the enthusiasm of all their kisses had some sort of effect on the bond? Were they unable to be away from her because the magic had believed they all wanted to be with her? This wasn’t the time for such thoughts, but he tucked it away to examine later.

“And this is… this is something from the Weasley Family Legacy?” Aunt Muriel asked.

Bill started to answer, then shrewdly responded, “According to the Chief Mugwump in 1684, no witch or wizard may demand information of another’s Family Legacy.”

There was silence for a moment, then Aunt Muriel began to laugh. She laughed so hard Molly had to get her a chair to sit down in, pulling one up for herself as well. Bill watched from his spot by the door, leaning with his arms crossed, hoping this was a good sign.

When Aunt Muriel finally wiped her eyes delicately with her daintily gloved fingers, she said, “There might be hope for you yet, young man.”

He felt himself smile before he could stop it, then gave her a grave look. “While you can’t demand the information, I’m willing to give it as you are family and I respect your opinion. For obvious reasons, we want as few people to know as possible for as long as we can keep it quiet.”

“Merlin and Morgana, yes,” the old witch cursed. Bill blinked. He had never heard the old woman speak in such a way.

“This was a ritual straight from the Weasley Family Legacy. It has been performed many times but never, as far as we know, in conjunction with another Family’s Legacy. It has had some… unexpected consequences we’re still working on.”

“Unexpected in what way?” Molly demanded. He had almost forgotten — or wanted to forget, at least — that she was here.

Although he didn’t want to respond with Mum there, Bill gave in, “We’re more tightly bound than we expected to be. But it still wouldn’t stop Ginny from marrying if she wants to.”

Aunt Muriel looked taken aback. “Whatever do you mean, if she wants to?”

“I won’t force her to marry someone just because she’s with child. She’s barely more than a child herself,” Bill stated firmly.

“Which is why it is imperative that she marries,” Aunt Muriel insisted.

“To someone who could be the father,” Molly added.

Bill said, “Harry is the father whether they marry or not.”

“But no one will accept that if they aren’t married!” Aunt Muriel said, beginning to look furious.

Losing his patience, Bill told her, “As you now know, there are quite a lot of unacceptable things happening in our family right now and—”

“And that is why it is so important that you do what you can to play by the book,” Aunt Muriel interrupted. “People are going to talk about you in a negative light, but let loose something positive enough — marriage to the Boy Who Lived and a sweet little baby as well — and people will let the scandal die down.”

“They would have to know about it first and, as you said, the timing is everything with Ginny’s… situation,” Bill said, thinking aloud more than he should be.

“Which is why, just this once, I believe you should go against wizarding tradition and tell the world what you used your Family Legacy to do — marry a witch to all seven of you, the poor girl.”

“What are you saying about my children?” Molly demanded, looking offended for them for a moment before seeming to remember everything and giving him a disgusted look instead. But Bill was glad, even if he didn’t want to admit it, that somewhere in there was the protective mother he had always known.

“I’m saying saddling her to those twins was bad enough —but all seven of you,” she looked pointedly at Bill, “I shudder to think what that must be like,” Aunt Muriel said without any concern for the tirade Molly would have let loose before. Today, his mother just shrugged and drew her lips into a tight line.

Bill tried to refocus them. As much as he had grown up disliking his great-aunt, he had to admit that her understanding of the upper echelon of the wizarding world was invaluable to him now. “You seriously believe we should tell everyone the whole truth?”

“Maybe not that the binding was stronger than you expected,” she replied with exasperation. “They don’t need to know everything, but it might help to get it out of the way before that nasty reporter can expose you on her own. You know she’ll find out sooner or later anyway. So get it out of the way and then give everyone things to celebrate instead.”

Bill nodded slowly, seeing the logic. “I could go along with that. If it’s what the rest of the family wants, what Ginny especially wants.”

“You can’t base your decisions on the whims of an overindulged teenage twit who let herself get with child,” Aunt Muriel said dismissively.

“That’s my sister you’re talking about and I won’t have her spoken of like that. She got with child because the act happened only a few hours before we performed the ritual. No mere contraceptive charm can compete with a familial ritual under the full moon,” Bill argued.

Aunt Muriel’s eyebrows shot up and she shook her head. “That’s as much information as I need, thank you. I am sorry to have disparaged your sister. It is still of the utmost importance that we make sure she—”

“As the Head of the Noble Houses of Weasley and Prewett, I tell you now we will not be forcing Ginny to marry Harry or anyone else. She marries only if she wants to, no matter how good it would be for the family name,” Bill used his magic to make the statement feel as official as possible. He couldn’t be sure it did anything, but both his great-aunt and Mum seemed momentarily cowed. He didn’t dare breathe a sigh of relief.

***********

George looked around the shop with a sense of accomplishment. It was ready. They still had plenty of extra products to make to stock up their back room again, but they had enough of everything to open.

He would say it made him feel happy and content as well, but those were feelings he couldn’t quite manage with Hermione so far away. He felt too sick, and could feel the pain radiating back through the bond with Fred. They were both working hard to block it from Hermione’s end of the bond, but George had no idea how successful they were.

“We should have opened today,” Fred said. His voice was strained and George wasn’t completely certain which reason was responsible — was he thinking of Angelina’s funeral or of how far away Hermione still was?

Their idiot brother had jumped in front of a raging dragon or Hermione would be home already. He and Fred had both nearly cried when her magpie Patronus came to them. So now she would arrive tomorrow morning, just before the funeral.

“It would have kept us busy,” George said noncommittally. No matter which way Fred had meant it, that was true.

“It would have,” Fred agreed morosely.

“But we wouldn’t have been in top form,” George told him, jostling his twin’s shoulder. “We’d hardly even be ourselves. Look how pale your ugly mug is,” he said, shoving a trick mirror in Fred’s face. He looked like a ghost — literally — when he looked into it.

The joke — a new product he had been working on — brought the smile George had hoped for, but it didn’t last long.

“How am I going to come back from tomorrow and open up the next day?” Fred asked, clearly fighting back tears.

“You’ll have Hermione and me by your side,” George assured him. “We’ll help you through it. And the shop will keep your mind on other things.”

Fred nodded, but he said, “I don’t know if I’ll be in top form.”

“Not to worry, twin-o-mine, I’ll play the outgoing twin for the day. They can even call me Fred!”

“We’ll have to glue on a fake ear,” Fred said with a smile. He couldn’t stay serious for long, no matter how much he was hurting.

George replied with a grin, “I bet we could whip that up tonight.”

“Really, it’s a crime that we haven’t done it before now,” Fred agreed, starting toward the workshop in the back room.

*********

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go home tonight,” Charlie told her.

“Are you?” Hermione asked him, quite sure she knew the answer already. Even though he wasn’t well enough to travel long distance, he was plenty well enough for other activities. At least she hoped he was. She had no intention of wasting this unexpected night together.

More than that though, Hermione feared she needed him, more than just his casual touch or even the snuggling they would do in bed whether they meant to or not. No, she needed something more intense to block out the sickly feeling she was getting.

She knew part of it was coming through the bond from Fred and George, but she was feeling it for herself, too. Being away from them this long was unwise. She wasn’t sure how much she needed all of them, but she was feeling as desperate for Fred and George now as she remembered feeling for Charlie when he had been so far away.

“Well, I’m probably less sorry than you. What’s wrong, Draga? Do you feel okay?”

She shook her head, unable to talk around the tightness in her throat. Why she suddenly wanted to cry, Hermione couldn’t explain, but she hoped Charlie would somehow understand. The last couple of days had shown her the almost superhuman understanding that he had of creatures, his affinity not only for dragons but for the many smaller creatures who lived on the Reserve.

Fortunately, that understanding did seem to extend to her. “You don’t have to be okay. I am sorry I’ve kept you when it’s making you feel so bad. What do you need?”

“You,” she managed. Hermione couldn’t believe how quickly she had gone from mere discomfort to feeling sick. They were on the sofa next to one another, but he just wasn’t close enough to her.

“I’m here, Draga,” he said, pulling her into his lap. That was good. Much better, but… she yanked her shirt over her head, quickly adding the rest of her clothes to the pile she had started until she was naked on his lap and Charlie was starting to breathe a bit harder at the feel of her. Still, it wasn’t close enough.

Hermione began to tug at his shirt, to pull it up as much as she could manage. Charlie chuckled in response, though he was still looking at her with worry in his eyes. Gingerly, he took control of removing his shirt and then set her to his side on the sofa, allowing her to lean against the bare skin of his chest as he slowly pulled off his trousers. He was healed, but the flesh was still tender at the bottom of his back, across his arse, and down his leg.

Crawling back into his lap the moment he sat down in only his pants, Hermione snuggled as close to him as she could get. “Why did you keep those on?” she murmured against his neck.

“I wasn’t sure if you would do something you weren’t ready for if I was completely… available,” Charlie replied.

“Then get me ready,” she told him.

“I live to please, Draga,” he said with a laugh. He turned her around and pulled her back close against his chest. One hand pulled her head around so that he could kiss her while the other snaked between her legs to find her wet slit.

When Hermione broke the kiss to moan, Charlie refocused his lips and teeth to nibble up and down her neck, gliding kisses along her shoulders and sucking at her delicate skin just under her ear. Hermione was writhing within moments and she knew she was soaking his hand. His other hand came around her body and began to roll a nipple.

Hermione bucked against him, arching her back so that her arse ground against his hardened cock. “More,” she whimpered.

“Not yet,” he chastised quietly. “You need much more than this.”

“You, I need you,” she insisted. She should be disgusted by her own neediness but she just couldn’t find enough of a damn to care. She needed him in a way she couldn’t even find words for. She couldn’t go on without his cock.

“You’ll have me, draga. You will always have me. But you need to loosen up,” he answered.

She could hear how hard he was working her in his tone. The fingers that had started out sliding up and down her slick slit, flicking at her clit every time he went up to the top, had long since found their way inside her.

Now, he had two fingers inside her, and two teasing her clit between them, sliding against it in opposite directions and driving her wild. “Charlie, please,” she whined.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said, sliding his other two fingers inside her. His unoccupied hand reached down to rub her clit.

Hermione wanted nothing more than for him to pound those fingers into her, or better yet, replace them with his cock, but he wouldn’t yet. She knew that now. And there was nothing she could do about it. No amount of teasing him back would convince Charlie to move faster if he didn’t want to.

“Please, please, please,” she begged instead.

“Are you ready to come for me, draga?” he asked with the rumbly low voice she loved so much. He may not be willing to give in, but he was certainly affected.

“Yes, please,” she started, but her words ended with a groan as he picked up the pace and Hermione almost immediately came, hard.

“Merlin, yes,” Hermione moaned as she started to come down from the high of the orgasm. But she couldn’t. Though he had backed off somewhat, Charlie was still toying with her, his fingers petting her inside, albeit more slowly. The hand that had been rubbing her clit moved back to her nipples so that all the sensations were calmer but still pulsing through her overheated body.

At least she didn’t feel sick anymore, the desperation for Fred and George fading to the dull ache of discomfort. She couldn’t think about them, though, while Charlie’s hands were still working her body.

Whining a little from the continued contact, she started to protest. “I came. You can stop now.”

“I could,” he agreed slowly, pinching a nipple and dragging his fingers in and out of her. “But I could also keep this up and get to watch you fall apart again.”

“Again?” she asked. “Well, I mean yes, when you’re inside me, but…”

“Has no one ever given you so many orgasms you can’t see straight?” he asked her playfully.

Hermione blinked. Absolutely no one had, not that there were that many possibilities yet. And she was too needy for it. She shook her head at him. “Your cock, Charlie. Please. I need you.”

His eyes were still dancing merrily when he said, “In a minute. Let me give you at least one more, draga.” His tone was begging at the end and Hermione couldn’t tell him no.

“Please… Merlin, hurry. I need you.”

So he hurried, curling his fingers up to stroke her most sensitive spot and using his thumb to tap her clit in a rhythm together. Meanwhile, he twisted and pinched at one nipple then the other. Hermione could feel the intense tingling running up her spine again, pulsing through her body. She screamed again as she came for a second time. Everything went white for a moment while she floated in absolute bliss.

By the time she was aware again, Charlie had somehow turned her around to face him and divested himself of the pants so that his bare skin brushed hers, feeling spectacular to her overstimulated senses. She needed him.

“Inside me,” she whimpered. “Please.”

“Gladly,” he responded, positioning her carefully over his throbbing cock and holding her steady while Hermione worked her way down onto him. Charlie groaned the whole way down.

As he made full contact inside her, the hazy feeling that had come over her mind earlier finally cleared. He was close enough to her now. Finally.

“Do you like that?” she said teasingly as she pulled up, dragging her pussy along his length.

“Yes, oh yes. I love it. I love you. Please let me… oh Merlin… You’re so perfect… so tight…so…”

Hermione enjoyed his babbling as she slid slowly up and down on him, pushing up on his shoulders to work herself along his thick cock. But she enjoyed it even more when she sank down on him, letting him get as deeply inside her as possible and then squeezed all her muscles as tightly as she could.

Charlie made a choked sound, then growled deep in his throat as she felt the heat of him coming inside her. “Yes,” she whimpered against him, leaning in to capture his lips as he slumped bonelessly back on the sofa, trying to kiss her but mostly failing in his delirious state.

She nuzzled into his neck, loving the feel of him still inside her as they curled together perfectly. After a few moments like that, after he started responding to her kisses once more, Charlie picked her up, stumbling as he took them both to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed with her in his arms.

Hermione fell asleep wrapped in him, finally close enough to erase the feeling of discomfort from being away from her other loves. That, plus the knowledge that she would see Fred and George and the rest in the morning was the last thought she had before she drifted off.

Chapter 26

Notes:

I've been holding this back for days, with the idea that I should pace myself and not release too much at once so we don't get multiple chapters in a week then nothing for a month, you know? Buuuuut I just can't stand not to share! And it has at least been a week, so I didn't do too badly.

Thank you to Lady Winterlight and Astrangefan for their work on this chapter.

Percy straightened his tie and looked in the mirror. Everything was perfect. His hair was just right. His clothes freshly pressed as they should be. He looked calm and controlled. As long as no one could see his mind, everything was still just as it should be.

Thank Merlin no one could see his roiling emotions.

He was so tired of funerals. As the Minister’s Secretary, he had to attend them all. That was hard enough, even though few of them were more meaningful to him than the sadness of another life lost. Still, the ones that were personal hit hard.

And this was one of the most personal after his father’s.

He hadn’t known Angelina Johnson all that well, but he had known her to be a loyal and courageous young woman. She had loved his little brother, and died to save him. Worse, it had been Percy’s own failure to do more that allowed her to die.

There hadn’t really been any more he could do. Percy knew that. But it felt like his fault.

Just like Fred being hurt in the first place felt like his fault. If he hadn’t lingered so long with the Ministry, if he had passed on more information, perhaps his brother wouldn’t have been in harm’s way at the right moment to be so fatally injured.

Of course, Percy couldn’t deny he was pleased with how that turned out. Fred was fine. And Hermione was… an unexpected but delectable gift in his life. His enjoyment of her now — and undoubtedly in the future — made him feel even more guilty about it all.

In the mirror, a dark hand appeared on his shoulder before the Minister himself stepped into the scene. It was early enough that they were still alone except for the Aurors on the other side of the door. There was little risk to being seen together, and they had certainly taken bigger risks already than this.

“You’re more upset about this one than usual,” Kingsley’s deep voice rolled over him as their eyes met in the mirror. Percy had been so careful to glamour away all signs of tears; he was confused that the man knew. “She was a close friend?”

“No, but she saved Fred and I… I was there.”

Kingsley paused, looking him over closely before humming in a way that Percy knew meant he had understood something. “Survivor’s guilt,” he murmured. “I know it’s useless to tell you it wasn’t your fault, but it will get better.”

“You’ve felt like this?” Percy asked, surprised. Kingsley never seemed ruffled by anything.

The older man nodded. “I’ve been an Auror for most of my life. There have been people I couldn’t save and a partner who made sacrifices that saved me. It never gets easier, but time helps.”

“We just lost so many,” Percy heard himself say. “And I should have—”

“You did what you could, what you thought was best at the time. There are people who died who I should have been able to save, too. We all did what we could,” Kingsley said, never taking his eyes from Percy’s.

His heartbeat was picking up at the close contact with the Minister. No matter how serious the subject, Percy could no longer control his reactions to this man. It didn’t help his slipping control to be so emotional on top of everything else.

Kingsley used his hand on Percy’s shoulder to turn him, Percy giving no resistance. As much as he didn’t want to break down, it felt too good when the other man pulled him into his arms and held him. The first tears fell unbidden as Percy fought to control them.

“Let go, Percival,” Kingsley commanded. “You don’t have to be in control all the time, but I know you’ll feel better losing it here than in front of everyone.”

He had a point, Percy realized. Even though he shivered when Kingsley used his formal first name, Percy found himself falling apart at the command. Merlin, when did the man get so much control over him? When did he lose the tight control of himself?

Percy cried literally on Kingsley’s shoulder as the man murmured reassurances to him. When he had cried himself out, Percy jerkily moved away, feeling pathetic. But Kingsley seemed to understand that, too.

“It’s okay to lean on someone else. Especially someone who cares about you.”

Swallowing hard, Percy asked, “Do you? Care about me, I mean? It could just be the magic.”

“I cared about you before that happened, Percy, just not in quite the same way.” He paused, but when Percy didn’t know what to say, Kingsley went on. “You’ve never explained what the magic was. You just whispered something about a bond. But there’s nothing tying us together except emotions, so it wasn’t a bond with me. I must admit I don’t understand what kind of bond to someone else would turn our feelings on their head like this.”

“I… I can’t,” Percy scrambled to bring his thoughts back in order. He was stunned by so much of what Kingsley had said. He cared? And he didn’t even understand what happened with the bondgasm. Of course he didn’t. How could he? But Percy wasn’t at liberty to share without consulting the others. Gathering himself, he explained, “I have to discuss the repercussions of telling you with my House before I can tell you anything.”

Kingsley’s eyebrows shot up, but he nodded. “I didn’t realize it involved your House.” His eyes were already looking calculating, trying to piece the puzzle together. Percy loved the man’s brilliant mind.

“It does,” Percy told him uncomfortably. If he talked much, he would spill the entire tale.

“And you can’t tell me because I’m the Minister?” he queried.

“I can’t tell anyone without discussing it, but you being the Minister does add more complication. And if I tell them I want to let you in on it for… personal reasons, I would have to…”

“Have to admit there are personal reasons here?” Kingsley asked with a self-deprecating laugh. “I know I’m a hard man to care for, Percival. It’s okay if you want to let this go without the magic to push it along.”

“No!” Percy cried despite himself. “I mean… I don’t know. I don’t want… No, I’m not ready to let it go.” The admission felt like it was pulled from his depths.

Kingsley’s smile warmed Percy down to his toes. “Good, because I’m not really ready to let it go either.”

Trying to pull himself together, Percy had just decided to see if he could slip back into the familiar role of Master when there was a commotion outside the door.

“Minister Shacklebolt!” someone was shouting. “Minister! This is important!”

Percy and Kingsley exchanged a look and the Minister strode toward his doors, his Under Secretary just behind him as was proper. As the doors opened and they were met with the sight of several Unspeakables, Percy felt his stomach sink. This must be something important, indeed.

******

Charlie curled around Hermione feeling sated and peaceful, but a little bit sad. More than a little if he was being honest.

They would be leaving soon. Despite the extra night and this morning’s lie-in, there hadn’t been enough time here. He knew he was beyond lucky to have her undivided attention for two solid days, and to have this opportunity himself to say goodbye to the Reserve, but he still wanted more.

Now he had to pull himself out of the cozy bed and pack up the cabin.

“I need a shower now,” Hermione huffed with a smile.

“Another?” he asked. “Two showers in one morning is a little excessive don’t you think?”

“I can’t go to a funeral smelling like sex,” she told him with exasperation.

Charlie grinned as he said, “Don’t worry, Draga. Only my face smells like sex.”

“Go wash it!” she cried, pushing at his shoulder.

“But I have so much to get done,” he told her innocently. When Hermione hit his chest, he grinned and added, “I’ll take a shower if you come with me.”

For a moment he thought she was going to go for it. Then she shook her head. “We don’t have time. The portkey…”

“I know. We won’t miss it,” Charlie promised.

Thinking practically, Hermione said, “We should have packed yesterday.”

He nodded, but he felt his heart contract. He couldn’t have packed any sooner. It was going to kill him to do it now.

“It’ll go quick,” he said gruffly, trying not to let his emotions bleed into his voice and failing.

Hermione looked up at him sharply, and opened her mouth to speak. He didn’t get to find out what she would have said, though, because there was a rhythmic knock at the door.

“Florin,” he told her, recognizing the beats without even thinking about them.

“I’m not dressed!” Hermione squeaked.

Charlie laughed. “Just work on that in here, Draga. I’ll see what he wants.”

“You’re not dressed either!” she pointed out.

“I promise this isn’t the first time he’s seen me in my pants,” Charlie said with a chuckle. Nonetheless, Hermione threw a pair of trousers at him — much nicer trousers than he normally wore.

They had to be ready for that funeral. Another bloody funeral.

As he pulled on the trousers and heard Florin’s knock again, he thought about the funeral. He hadn’t known the girl. Charlie knew he could skip it, but she sacrificed her life for Fred. The least he could do was attend her funeral.

Finally he made his way to the door and let Florin in. “Why didn’t you just come in like usual?” he asked, surprised that his old friend had waited so long.

“You don’t usually have a beautiful young wife at home with you. I don’t want to walk in on anything that’s not for me to see,” Florin told him seriously.

Charlie couldn’t help but grin in response. There was that.

“Come to see us off?” he asked. More painfully, he added, “I’ve still got to pack up if you want to help.”

“I’m actually here to tell you not to,” Florin said.

“Not to what?” Charlie asked in confusion. Not to go? Merlin, they had to know he didn’t want to, but it was a necessity of his life now.

“Don’t pack up. Mikal said we’re not using all the cabins right now anyway, and this one’s been yours more than a decade. Leave it. You can come back from time to time and help in busy seasons, or just visit,” Florin explained.

Charlie was floored. In his wildest dreams of how the future might pan out, he hadn’t dared hope he could keep his cabin here, his place on the Reserve open for him when he had time for it.

“He was going to come with me and tell you, but there’s an emergency with Gus again.”

“What is—”

“No,” Florin said firmly. “It’s not for you to worry about. Even if you weren’t injured, you have places to be today.”

Still fighting his instincts to run and see what was happening, Charlie nodded. Florin was right whether he liked it or not.

Hermione came out of the bedroom at that moment. She was wearing a long flowy black dress. It accentuated the curves she had and covered up the places that were still too skinny. Her curls were pulled up into some sort of complicated updo, but tendrils poked out here and there. Charlie loved how untameable her hair was. She looked perfect.

And he immediately regretted letting her talk him into getting up and dressed and doing silly things like answering the door when they could have spent their time on another round together instead. Merlin, when had he become as randy as a teenager again?

“What’s happened now?” Hermione asked, shaking her head. She seemed to have caught on to how often there were emergencies and chaos here.

“I just came to tell Charlie the cabin is still his.”

“Still his?” she repeated, then turned to Charlie with a happy smile. “That’s wonderful!”

She flung herself into his arms for a hug against his bare chest, so Charlie’s mouth was full of curls when he looked to Florin and said, “It really is. Thank you.”

“It was Mikal who okayed it. You’ll owe him an owl. All of us an owl as often as you can.” Charlie could see that the older man was struggling now to keep his composure. He hadn’t thought about how hard it was going to be to say goodbye to his best friend.

Breaking free of Hermione, he grappled Florin into a bear hug. It was a sign of how badly they were going to miss each other that Florin didn’t immediately start complaining about what a lug Charlie was and telling him to get off. When he did, it was only half-hearted.

“Don’t go crying on me, Red,” Florin said affectionately. “You’re coming back to visit soon enough.”

Hermione smiled at him and nodded. “Yes. I think we should.”

“Mikal said you’re all welcome any time. I think he may have forgotten how many Weasleys there are, but that’s what he said.”

Charlie felt an elated sense of relief suffuse his body. This was real. He couldn’t stop smiling as they finished preparing to leave.

***********

Fred was nervously pacing the waiting room of the Ministry’s International Portkey area. George, seated nearby, was letting his foot jiggle but otherwise looked less nervous than Fred felt, though Fred knew it was mostly a facade.

This morning had started with the same sickly feeling of the last few days, but in the last hour, he had begun feeling steadily better. Fred knew they must be getting closer. He could feel Hermione’s anticipation, too, and it made him happy.

He wasn’t sure what she thought of the last few days — especially with there being a period of anger yesterday — but he was confident she was happy to come home. He was glad she had rarely felt the sickness that had afflicted him and George, but Fred was also very curious as to how Charlie alone could stabilize her.

It had to be because all the other bonds, except maybe Harry, had been sealed. Or that was Bill’s theory anyway. In Fred’s opinion, it was just another mystery of the bond.

As he paced, Fred fiddled with his tie. He hated being dressed up again, hated that they had another funeral to go to, hated — hated — that it was Angie’s. He needed Hermione next to him or he would never make it through. He knew they were supposed to be here in time, but it was getting close.

Suddenly he felt a jerking sensation inside and he knew Hermione had arrived. From the corner of his eye, Fred saw George perk up as well. They both avidly watched the door until their beautiful wife slipped through, Charlie coming up behind her looking sad. Was it because he had to say goodbye to the dragons, the Reserve, his friends? Or was he just moody about having to pretend to be Hermione’s brother-in-law. Fred knew which would be more important to him, but with Charlie it was hard to tell.

The twins moved as one to throw their arms around Hermione and pull her close between them.

“Boys,” Hermione admonished them, “What if there are reporters?”

“What if there are?” Fred asked rhetorically before pulling her away from George and dipping her down into a kiss. She gasped on the way down but kissed back enthusiastically, making the sweetest sounds as he held her.

When he allowed her upright again, George stepped up more sedately and brushed a gentle kiss to her brow as he pulled her close. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured into her hair.

“I missed you, too,” Hermione said, “Both of you.”

“We need to get going,” Fred said nervously. His first goal of the day complete, Fred just wanted to get through the rest of the day without breaking down. Or at least through the funeral itself.

He noticed that George was saying hello to Charlie and making the appropriate jokes about taking their wife on a trip without them — all the things that needed to be said in case someone was listening in. Charlie didn’t like it. Fred could see that. Anyone could see that. He didn’t know what Charlie’s problem was, but he was glad George was the one handling him.

Fred just wanted to handle Hermione. He almost laughed aloud at his own play on words as he led her along. That was true, too, but not until later. For now, they needed to get to the funeral, get through the funeral. “Ready?” he asked her as they stepped onto an Apparition Point.

“Of course,” Hermione answered solemnly, and they were whirling away.

*************

“Harry!” Percy hissed.

Jumping at the unexpected summons, Harry turned to Percy and started to ask what he needed, but closed his mouth when Percy put a finger to his lips and motioned for him to follow. Harry looked around at Ron, Bill, and Fleur, but none of them were paying attention to him, focusing instead on the opening remarks of the Minister.

Harry followed Percy out of the crowd. Moving up to walk beside him, Harry asked, “What’s going on?”

“Something has happened and we need your help,” Percy said with a grimace.

Groaning, Harry pulled to a stop. “No,” he said.

“No what?” Percy asked sharply. “You don’t even know—”

“I’ve given up enough. I’m done fighting.”

“Then it’s good this won’t involve a fight,” Percy said, looking exasperated.

Harry drew his brows together. “Then what—”

“If you’ll follow me, you’ll find out,” Percy told him primly. It reminded Harry of Hermione in a bizarre way. But then, everything did these days. He didn’t like it anymore than he liked being urgently led away from the funeral.

Then he saw the Unspeakables and felt his stomach sink further.

“Harry Potter,” one of them said from beneath their darkened hood. He couldn’t see their face and it was creepy. “As the last Master of the Elder Wand, we need your help.”

Shaking his head, Harry held up his empty hands. “It’s gone,” he told them. “I broke it into pieces and threw it away.”

“We’re aware,” said a feminine voice dryly.

“For studying purposes, we retrieved the pieces after you were done,” the first Unspeakable said.

“You what?” Harry demanded, feeling fury rise inside.

“We gathered the pieces of the wand, all but one sliver we couldn’t find, and put it under wards to keep it safe and allow us to study it,” another voice said, slowly like they thought he couldn’t understand.

“Merlin fuck, it was supposed to be destroyed!”

“Then you should have used fiendfyre,” the feminine voice spoke again.

“How was I supposed to know that?” Harry asked angrily. It hadn’t occurred to him that just breaking it wouldn’t be the end of the wand. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. If you’re trying to get me to put it back together or… or use it somehow, you can forget it. I’m not doing anything with it and this is a bloody terrible time to—”

“The pieces were stolen, Harry,” Percy broke into his tirade, giving an irritated look to the Unspeakables, undoubtedly because they hadn’t mentioned this vital bit of information.

“Stolen? When? And why?”

“They were stolen overnight. We don’t know why but we can assume it was not for any good purpose,” the first Unspeakable said.

“No, most likely not,” Harry said darkly. Merlin, why was there always something else he had to be responsible for? “What do you need from me?”

“As it’s last true Master, we’re hoping you can call the pieces,” the Unspeakable explained.

Harry rubbed his jaw. “Do I just try Accio?”

Percy rolled his eyes for everyone as one of the Unspeakables shook their hood. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple,” the first Unspeakable said.

“Come with us,” the woman said impatiently.

Harry felt his heart beat pick up. “I’m not just going off by myself with a bunch of hooded—”

“I’m coming with you,” Percy told him, one hand a steadying presence on Harry’s shoulder. “I consider Harry my brother,” he announced to the circle of Unspeakables. “I will be watching out for him.”

As much as he usually considered Percy, even now, nothing more than a bossy prat, Harry felt oddly comforted. Having a family member there would keep him safe, or as safe as he could be in the Department of Mysteries — or wherever they were taking him.

But… “Can we go back to the funeral first?” he asked. “She was my teammate and my friend. I don’t want to miss it.”

The way the Unspeakables moved, turning to each other, made him think they were exchanging glances, though how they could do that with their faces completely hidden, Harry had no idea. Finally, the first man said, “No. Even though we don’t know who did this, it is essential we recover the wand pieces immediately. By the Minister’s order.”

“I need to talk to Kingsley, then,” Harry said, starting to turn.

Percy caught his shoulder again. “Harry, he can’t talk right now. Believe me when I say he will want you to do this. But it needs to be done without causing a panic — which means not making a scene. The Minister is surrounded and will be for the next several hours.”

He could see the logic, but Harry didn’t like it. He wanted to talk to Hermione and Ron, or at least one of them. But Percy looked like he was about to combust with the need to drag Harry along and for once, Harry got the impression it had nothing to do with wanting to follow rules. There had always been more to the Elder Wand than Harry truly understood and, when he paused a moment to listen, he realized his gut was telling him to go with them.

He was reluctant to leave the funeral of someone he had known and respected before they had died so valiantly saving his brother, but if it was necessary…

“Fine,” he said tersely. “Let’s go.”

Before he knew it, they were inside the Ministry, headed down into the department he had hoped never to set foot in again. At least this time he was surrounded by adult wizards. And Voldemort was dead. He had to keep that in mind as they wandered into the creepy depths of the Department of Mysteries.

They led him confidently through the room of doors into a room he hadn’t seen on his previous visit. It was plain, made of a dark, polished stone, perhaps obsidian. In the center of the room was a large circle with runes in patterns all around and through it.

“What is this?” he asked, looking to Percy as the only person there whose face could be seen. It helped, too, that he was the one Harry knew and was counting on.

Percy was wide-eyed, looking somewhat awed. “I had no idea there was a circle of this caliber… anywhere, but especially not within the Ministry itself.”

“Good,” the female Unspeakable said, “No one is supposed to know.”

“Going to Obliviate us when this is over?” Harry joked.

Their hooded faces stared at him in a way that suggested they were at least strongly considering it. The silence went on a beat too long before Percy said, “It would be unwise to try and Obliviate the Secretary of the Minister or the Savior of our world.”

They all turned to the one in the middle and, after a moment, he gave a slow nod. “You are probably correct. We will take it into consideration.”

“Great,” Harry barked sarcastically. “Well then, what are we doing here? If you’re going to Obliviate me later, you might as well explain it all.”

He got the feeling he was irritating them and found he rather liked that. With a sigh, the main Unspeakable explained, “This is an ancient Circle for ritual magic, much like your friends used for their ritual.”

“You know about—”

“How they must have bound your friend Hermione to the Weasley twins?” the woman scoffed. “Of course we do.”

Harry held back the sigh of relief he wanted to let out, knowing by the twitch in Percy’s tight lips that he felt just as relieved. But he also gave a small nod to indicate that a Circle had been used.

“I wasn’t with them when they performed the ritual,” Harry admitted. “So I’ve heard about it, but didn’t see the stones.”

“Oh, a Circle with stones!” one of the other Unspeakables said excitedly before receiving what must have been a glare. “Well it does explain a lot,” they muttered before subsiding.

“This Circle might be as powerful — a feat for one without the grounding power of Moon-soaked Stones — but more than raw power, this Circle is attuned to magical artifacts. It will give you the best possibility of Calling the wand pieces.”

“What do I do?” Harry asked, feeling stupid and off balance by all of these things that seemed commonplace for the Unspeakables.

“Your role is simple. While we chant around you, lending you our magic, you will stand in the center of the Circle and will the Wand to your hand. You will chant ‘Ego sum dominis. Venire Mors Magicum!’ until it arrives in your hand.”

“Just like that, huh?” Harry asked, surprised that it really was so simple. When they nodded their hoods, he posed the question he knew none of them wanted. “What if it doesn’t come?”

“Then it is truly lost and we must find out who took it as soon as possible,” Percy said nervously. It was clear he was taking this all very seriously.

Harry sighed. “We’ll hope for the best then. What do I need to do to be ready?”

As it turned out, there was almost nothing to do. This was being done in a ritual Circle more to boost his power than because the magic was dark or complex. It was the power of the object being Called and the possibility that it would be behind wards that made it a difficult task.

The Unspeakables put him in the middle of the Circle and spread out around him. Harry closed his eyes and listened. They began chanting, then let it die into a low hum, the words still there if you listened closely enough, but mostly a background humming noise.

When he opened his eyes, he met Percy’s and felt relief to see him there. Seeing him made Harry think of family and safety and wanting to keep them all safe. “Ego sum dominis. Venire Mors Magicum! Venire Mors Magicum!” He bent his will hard upon the wand, wherever it was, gathered all the extra power into himself, and called it to him, every piece.

Nothing happened. Harry felt his heart begin to hammer harder. He pushed greater will into the words and practically shouted them this time.

Suddenly, there was a whooshing noise and Harry could feel the tug of his magic against the object. But it looked small and there was only a single piece.

“The missing shard,” the female Unspeakable cried.

“But where’s the rest of it?” Harry asked.

There were throat clearings and a general sense of unease before one of the Unspeakables spoke, “They must be protected by powerful magic, but this last piece is critical if they think they’re going to put the wand back together.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“For an artifact as old as the Elder Wand, it is critical that you have every last piece or it will never work properly.”

“Most wands won’t work even then, an old one especially, but who knows what these people have planned. Even though this looks small, for a wand, it’s a sizable missing component,” another of the Unspeakables chimed in.

Nodding, Harry emphatically declared, “Destroy it.”

“But this piece—” one of the Unspeakables began.

Harry dropped it in the center of the Circle and stepped out, ignoring the cries of the Unspeakables as they sought to grab him. Turning, Harry shouted, “Incendio!” but put all the will he could into making it a far worse fire, something with the power of Fiendfyre. It wasn’t his fault Fiendfyre wasn’t a part of his education.

A raging fire sprang to life in the middle of the Circle, causing the Unspeakables to leap out of it before they could be consumed. Within moments, the whole Circle was burning, the shard of the Elder Wand truly gone.

This wouldn’t solve the problem of who may have taken the wand or what they might be intending to do with it, but it would keep them from doing whatever it was. Harry had to accept that was the best they could do right now.

He just hoped this hadn’t taken as long as it felt and he could make it back for part of the funeral, or at least the dinner after. Harry’s heart hurt at the idea that he may have missed laying his friend to rest. The least he could have done was be there for that… but that wasn’t true. Taking care of the future was what he had needed to do. Angelina would have wanted it.

Harry sighed. Maybe someday he wouldn’t be needed to save the future anymore, but it apparently wasn’t that time yet. Maybe he should have given up the idea of peace and joined the Aurors after all.

Shaking his head at that thought, Harry followed Percy and the Unspeakables silently back up through the Ministry. He would do what had to be done, as he always had, but he wasn’t volunteering for more trouble than necessary. He may not know what he was doing next, but he was certain of that much.

***********

Hermione held Fred’s hand nearly as hard as he was squeezing hers, trying to help steady him. Honestly, she wished he would just let himself fall apart. George was crying outright on her other side, letting her put an arm around him, even. But Fred was stoic. He looked pale and sickly, though she knew he was feeling physically better now that she was home.

But his heart… she hurt for him, for both of them, and all of her family who had known Angelina. For herself, she had known the older girl in a distant way. She had always been nice to Hermione but they hadn’t crossed paths all that often.

Looking down the long row of Weasleys, Hermione was surprised to notice that Harry was not among them. He must have gotten pulled somewhere else, though she wished Ron or someone would have noticed and helped him come back to the family. People were always vying for his attention now, and it was more than a little disturbing. She much preferred it when they all stuck together. It felt safer.

She listened as the officiant talked about how Angelina had sacrificed so much for us to have a safer world and finally Fred couldn’t hold it back anymore. She thought he might squeeze her hand in half as he let out a strangled sob. George pushed her arm away from himself and nodded toward his twin.

Loosening his grip on her hand, she instead reached around Fred to hold him against her. He was crying like a baby in moments, the pain shaking his body and forcing him to whimper against her neck. “Angelina,” he said, “Merlin, why did she have to die for it? For me?”

Hermione had no answer so she just held him quietly instead. People were looking at them, at him, and murmuring. She wondered how many knew that Angelina had given her life specifically to save Fred.

Across the room, she saw Katie glowering at them. Hermione wasn’t sure if she was angry because Angelina had died fighting to get Fred help or if it was more because Hermione was there with Fred today.

Alicia was sitting beside her, head bent, so it was impossible to tell if she was angry or just devastated. They were both reasonable reactions considering everything.

Fred was still crying when the service ended and the family began their final goodbyes to Angelina’s broken body.

“Do you want to go up?” Hermione asked. Fred shook his head, even as George joined the line of people paying their last respects.

“Can’t,” Fred gasped through another sob. “She can’t be gone, Mione. She shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t have either. I can’t be worth all this.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I’m not worth it,” he said. “She should still be here. George should have let me die.”

Hermione took him by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. “Don’t you dare say that, Fred! Angelina knew you were worth fighting for. So did I. So did your brothers and Ginny. We all still feel that way.”

“But does she? We can’t know that she thought it was worth it in the end,” Fred declared.

“We can’t know,” Hermione agreed. It was senseless to argue. “But—”

“You’re not,” another voice spoke above her. Hermione looked up to see Katie hovering above them, looking just as furious as usual lately. “You’re not worth it. She should have let you die!”

Alicia was next to her, but trying to pull her friend away. “Katie, no. Angelina wouldn’t have wanted this.”

It drew the attention of Angelina’s family. Her father, Angelo, strode over, tears still streaming down his cheeks. He put a hand on Fred’s shoulder and the other on Katie’s, though she flinched at the touch. “I know this is hard, kids,” he said. “But Angelina went out fighting, and that’s the kind of girl she was. Even as a child she was a fighter. She would be proud. I know this is hard, Fred, Katie, but please put your hurt aside and think of what Angelina would have wanted.”

“I doubt she would have wanted him hanging on some other girl at her funeral!” Katie cried, tears starting down her cheeks.

“If she were still here,” Angelo said, “Angelina would be the one he was with and we all know it. But do you think she wouldn’t thank Miss Granger for saving him when she couldn’t anymore? Without this young woman’s sacrifice, Angelina’s death would have been in vain.”

“There should have been some other way to save him,” Katie said, her anger starting to give way to tears. “They shouldn’t have gotten married — and especially not to George, too!”

“Sometimes magic does as it pleases and there’s nothing we can do about it,” he said sadly.

“If they used their Family Legacies like they said, it was a lot more intentional than Magic deciding,” Katie argued.

The older man shook his head. “Old magic doesn’t always work the way we think it will. For Family Magic to work, the intentions of those involved must be clear and the magic will respond to that. But, it still has its own way with things. I imagine they’re still learning all the ways it has worked differently than they expected.”

Hermione blinked. She hadn’t considered that angle at all.

Fred apparently hadn’t either. “Are you saying it might not have worked even if we did everything right?” He was so startled that his tears slowed for the moment.

Angelo nodded sagely. “Magic smiled on you to gift you another chance at life. And this young lady at your side.” He turned to Katie. “Katie, we love you like another daughter, but please calm yourself. Fred isn’t doing anything Angelina wouldn’t have wanted.”

Katie nodded, leaning on Alicia. She didn’t say anything else before letting her friend lead her away. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and heard it echoed in everyone around her. Fred dropped his head against her side, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks.

Hermione could feel Fred’s gut-wrenching pain and it hurt her too that he had lost Angelina as well as the friends they had shared. Though, perhaps Alicia was still friendly. And maybe Katie would come around to the point that they could be friends again.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Fred,” Angelo said gently. “You were always a good and loyal friend to her and she was being the same. If she’s looking down on us now, I know she’s smiling at you.”

Fred gave a watery smile to the man, who patted his shoulder again and wandered off toward another group of mourners.

Hermione supported Fred and George as they made their way through the crowd, but she was becoming increasingly more perplexed by Harry’s absence. She was surprised to notice, too, that Percy wasn’t by the Minister’s side. If she had been alone, she would have fought her way to Kingsley, but with the twins in their current emotional state, she had other priorities. She could find out where Percy and Harry were later.

She slowly guided Fred toward the apparition point with George’s help. He was a mess, too, but not as broken apart as Fred.

“What can I do to help?” Hermione asked when they were finally back in the flat above the shop.

“Kiss him,” George suggested. “And me, but Fred needs it most.”

It was a good thought, but they were too far apart, with George leaning against the doorframe while she led Fred to the sofa. “Get over here,” she commanded George.

He obeyed without a word, letting her arrange him on the sofa next to his twin. Hermione looked down at the two of them. “So I’m supposed to distract the two of you into feeling better?”

“In all ways,” George said. “We’ve felt sick without you. Everyone was a little uncomfortable, but it felt like having a hole in our hearts.”

“So we need you, Lovely,” Fred said, tugging her toward himself.

Hermione drew back just enough to exert her own control of where she would sit — which happened to be straddling their laps so that she had a knee between each of their legs, her thighs brushing against their currently limp cocks, as she leaned in to kiss first Fred, then George.

She took her time with each of them, letting them know how much she had missed them, too. Hermione had loved the time with just Charlie, but she missed the rest, especially the twins, fiercely. When she went back to Romania — because she did very much want to go back — she needed more of them along with her.

Fred slid a hand around her back and began unzipping her black dress. George brought a hand up to gently fondle a breast as the material dropped below them. Fred ran his hand back up her back until he buried his fingers in her hair, pulling her back over to kiss him.

“That’s hardly fair,” George protested.

Before Hermione could wrestle her lips from Fred’s to respond, George had occupied his mouth with a nipple and she moaned instead. As they each tugged at her, Hermione’s legs rubbed against their now semi-erect cocks, making their lengths harden faster. She found she liked this position, as she squirmed against each of them.

Her only dilemma was picking which thigh to rut against as she teased them. Ultimately, it was George she came apart on the first time, her cunt dripping its juices through her knickers onto his trousers.

“Merlin, you’re so bloody hot when you do that,” Fred gasped when he loosed her lips.

“When I do what?” Hermione panted.

“Come for us, lovely,” George finished Fred’s thought. “You know that. I know you can feel how awed we are by you.”

She blushed. She could feel it, but she still didn’t entirely believe it.

“Well you’re both hot when you come, too,” she said. “So I think it’s only fair if I get you both off now, too.”

“At the same time?” Fred asked, giving a real smile for the first time today.

“Oh yes,” she assured him, snaking her hands down, one to each of them. As Hermione popped the buttons on their trousers, both boys groaned.

“It’s hot that you can do that at the same time,” Fred noted.

“To hear you tell it, everything I do is hot,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes with a smile. She whispered a couple of spells and suddenly their trousers and pants were gone, folded neatly across the room, and her hands were full of lube.

When she took each twin in a hand, they both bucked up, unable to stop themselves.

“Yesss…” George hissed.

“We’ve missed you,” Fred panted.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Hermione said with a laugh. She couldn’t believe how much she enjoyed having this control over the two of them, watching their identical faces change and morph in different ways as they struggled to hold back their desire and draw this out as long as possible.

Hermione was in no mood to let them today. She wanted them sated, but then she wanted their snuggles, to feel them on either side of her again, just talking and cuddling. No, she didn’t have to do this, they never would have made her, but she could feel how much built up tension they each had.

Her hands were moving rhythmically between Fred and George, twisting and rubbing as she pistoned up and down their shafts. This time, she was rubbing herself against Fred’s leg, moaning nearly as hard as they were.

Coming hard at the first sign she had gotten to them, Hermione was amused when the two of them came one right after the other, spurting come up to their chests and all over the dress that was bunched at her waist.

She couldn’t bring herself to care as she looked at Fred and George’s grateful expressions.

“That was perfect,” Fred told her enthusiastically.

“Did you want more, lovely?” George asked after scourgifying their mess away. Did she?

Hermione shook her head no. “I just want to be held and hold you both.”

“It’s a little early for bed,” Fred said. He was right, of course, and it was only then that Hermione thought of everyone else and wondered where they were tonight. It appeared someone had decided this night would be for her, Fred, and George alone. Or perhaps they were still at the dinner planned after the funeral. Hermione’s stomach grumbled at the thought, but she didn’t want to say anything and break the mood.

“It’s never too early to take our witch to bed,” George disagreed. “No one said we had to sleep once we were there.”

“Just snuggling for now,” Hermione admonished him. “I want more of you, but I need to rest first. With the time difference and all the traveling, I’m exhausted.”

“It has been a long day,” Fred corrected his earlier assessment of bedtime.

“But we’ve also missed dinner, and we don’t want to be remiss in taking care of you,” George realized. “I’ll fix us a tray.”

Hermione smiled at him gratefully, “Thank you, George.” Then she took Fred’s hand and led him off to the bedroom. She was a little worried by how placidly he was behaving when she could still feel the turmoil inside him.

“Fred, you can talk to me,” she offered as she guided him onto the bed.

He stared up at the ceiling with one hand behind his head. “I’ll just cry if I try to talk,” he said eventually.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I’ll even hold you while you do,” she coaxed.

Fred half laughed, reaching out for her with one arm, pulling her to his chest as soon as he could get her there. Hermione wriggled closer to him, hoping that he would take it as wanting to be close and not anything sexual. She truly didn’t want any more of that tonight. Unfair though it was, she needed to recover from being with Charlie for so many days before she pursued more with the twins or anyone else.

And she truly was tired. Plus… she didn’t think it was what Fred needed most.

“You loved Angelina,” she stated, to try and get him talking.

“I didn’t know what love was then,” Fred disagreed, but she felt his sense of guilt pulse harder when he said it.

Hermione glared up at him. “You don’t need to downplay what you had with Angelina just because you’re talking to me.”

“We’re soulbound. It doesn’t even compare,” Fred told her, his eyes focused on one of her curls he was twisting around his finger.

“It doesn’t need to compare. You loved her. You still do. And you’re hurting because she’s gone.”

“I’m hurting because it’s my fault!” Fred burst out.

“Did you ask her to sacrifice herself? To be part of the guard getting you to the infirmary? Did you tell her to take on a troll?”

“I was unconscious. But it was still my fault,” he argued.

“How?” Hermione demanded.

“She loved me! It’s my fault because if she hadn’t loved me, she would still be here,” Fred said, the tears starting to fall.

“You don’t know that,” Hermione told him quietly. “There is no guarantee she wouldn’t have been in the wrong place at the wrong time anyway.”

“She’s right, Freddie,” George said from the door as he brought in a giant tray of cheeses, fruit, crackers, and little cuts of meat. “It was a battle. No matter where she was, Angelina may have fallen. This way was her choice.”

“But—”

“Angie would have protected any of us,” George interrupted. “She was in love with you, but you know she loved her friends just as fiercely and would have fought to protect any of us.”

“I could have been there!” Fred yelled at his twin. “If it had been anyone else, I could have been fighting with her!”

“Maybe. Or maybe we would have found her later. We can’t know what would have happened,” George told him sadly. “All we know is that she wouldn’t have wanted you wallowing in your guilt like this.”

Fred sat up, dislodging Hermione from his chest, looking defensive as he leaned back against the headboard, pulling his knees up in front of him. “I would never want her to be disappointed in me but I don’t know how to get over this.”

Hermione sat gently next to him on one side while George took the spot on his other. “You don’t have to get over it,” she told him. “Just honor her memory by living your life.”

“And being just as courageous and loyal as she always was. That’s the best way to honor what she did,” George said, nudging Fred a little.

Hermione felt the pain in Fred’s heart ease just a little, the process of healing beginning to take hold as the three of them sat together, talking and eating.

Chapter 27

“Are you here?” Ginny shouted as soon as she stepped through the floo. She knew it was too early in the morning, knew her siblings would chastise her for not giving Hermione and the twins more time, but dammit she needed to see and be near Hermione, too.

There was no response, so she headed for the bedroom. As much as she understood the twins’ need, she wished she had been allowed to at least stay in the extra room here rather than at Shell Cottage. Only Ron was still staying with their Mum, so Shell Cottage was overcrowded if the twins’ flat was off limits. Something really needed to be done about the housing situation. It wasn’t fair to have to be in a completely different location than Hermione.

Flinging open the bedroom door, she found Hermione blinking awake while the twins clutched at the sheets. They were all nude, of course, but Ginny could care less. “I brought scones,” she declared, holding up the sack Fleur had sweetly prepared.

Ginny was so thankful to the older woman. By all rights, Fleur should have been reprimanding her for heading over so early, rather than giving her a sympathetic look and a bag full of treats. “They’re Fleur’s special—”

She got no further as George was suddenly trying to grab the bag from her hands. She yanked it out of his grasp. “They’ll be out in the kitchen!” she told him smugly, sticking her tongue out at him when he gave her a dirty look.

“You won’t even give one to me?” Hermione asked, batting her lashes at Ginny.

“Oh, for you, my love, you have to come to the kitchen and give me a kiss before you get one,” Ginny said teasingly before racing out of the room cackling. She knew her brothers and wouldn’t put it past them to jump her for the scones even if they were momentarily embarrassed by their nudity.

By the time the other three wandered into the kitchen, the twins in old worn pajamas and Hermione wearing one of their old Quidditch jerseys, Ginny had already started on her second scone. Thank goodness Fleur sent enough to feed a small army.

“Did you make tea?” Fred grumbled as he pulled out a scone.

She had not, but George was already starting on it. Ginny just shrugged. “Not my house to go rummaging about.”

“It might as well be,” Fred commented. “You stay here enough. You could have gotten the tea going.”

Ginny would have felt guilty except… she didn’t waste time on that sort of thing when she had better things to focus on. “Hermione, are you coming here for your scone or not?” she asked.

Hermione sighed as though she were put out — which Ginny guessed at this hour of the morning she probably was — then stepped into Ginny’s space. Dropping her scone on her plate, Ginny leaned in for her kiss, but she didn’t realize that, in doing so, she was leaving the scone unguarded.

Instead of kissing her, Hermione snatched the partially eaten scone from the plate and, giggling, twirled away. Now it was Ginny’s turn to be put out. “That’s not fair,” she pouted.

“Neither was coming over at such an ungodly hour of the morning and dragging us kicking and screaming from the bed with your offer of delicious scones!” George admonished with a grin as he finished one off.

“Kicking and screaming, my arse,” Ginny said as she grabbed the bag away before Hermione could get her hands on another scone. “Where’s my kiss, witch?”

Hermione grinned at her now. “Where’s my next scone?”

“No kiss, no scone,” Ginny stated, gasping when Fred yanked the bag out of her hands from behind.

“I’m not part of this deal,” he said innocently.

“Toss me one,” Hermione asked him.

But Fred shook his head. “Not worth it. I don’t want to be at the wrong end of a Bat Bogey, thanks. Besides, she barely got to see you yesterday. You owe her a kiss.”

A look flashed across Hermione’s face so quickly Ginny couldn’t tell what it meant, but she didn’t like it. Now, though, Hermione was smiling and moving toward her, so Ginny didn’t ask. Instead, she used her lips to nudge Hermione’s opening, tasting the sweetness of the scone as she maneuvered her tongue inside.

The kiss only lasted a minute, but Ginny felt infinitely better for having that little contact. The discomfort of having Hermione so far away had been like an itch under skin. She knew it had been much harder on Fred and George, but she had still felt overwhelmed by the need for her wife. It was hard to say how much of her throwing up was influenced by that and how much was just the baby, but Ginny certainly hadn’t been feeling well.

She felt much better this morning, even if it had just been a little closer rather than touching with Hermione . And now… she wanted more time, of course, more touches, but Ginny felt better than she had in days. She happily sipped the tea George had made for her, albeit complaining as he did so, and stuffed herself with scones while laughing and talking with the others.

“Wait!” Hermione suddenly cried. “Aren’t we supposed to be opening the shop today?”

“Merlin, the time!” Fred panicked.

George, though, just shook his head. “Not yet, Freddie. Let’s promote it today and open tomorrow.”

“The more days we take off, the easier it is to put it off,” Fred said.

“Which is why we’ll work on more restocking today once we’re done with the promotions. But we can arrange for the others to help us tomorrow and make it the big event it should be.”

“I’ll help tomorrow,” Hermione assured them, so of course Ginny spoke up as well, “Me, too.” It wasn’t as if she had anything else planned for the summer anyway.

“I can help hand out flyers today, too,” Ginny volunteered.

“And me if you need me to,” Hermione said, though she looked a little pale at the thought.

“I think Bill needs to see you for a few things today. I think you’re supposed to be together for lunch,” George said.

Fred nodded, “And don’t forget you’ve got Percy on the schedule for your dinner date.” His tone was meant to poke fun, but Hermione nodded seriously.

“Merlin, I have a book to read before that!” she cried.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Of course you have a book to read. When don’t you?”

Ignoring that jibe, Hermione asked, “Do you want to cuddle with me on the sofa while I read?”

“Me?” Ginny asked.

“That was my intent, yes,” she said.

“Well it wasn’t what I had hoped to do with you, but if you want to put your feet in my lap, I have my own things to read up on,” Ginny said.

“You do?” Hermione asked. The shock in her voice should be insulting, but Ginny understood.

She grinned and said, “I’m behind on the Quidditch season. Have tons of sports sections I should read up on and the twins’ Daily Prophets are piled up over there.”

Hermione laughed and they moved to their spots on the sofa together as the twins got ready for their day.

************

Bill was pacing his office, wishing Hermione were here already. He should still be working until she arrived, but he just couldn’t focus. The need for her was overwhelming. He knew Fleur felt the same and she would have lunch waiting for them at Shell Cottage.

They had considered going out, but they would have needed to be too careful about touching when they were far too needy. It meant sharing her attentions with Charlie and probably Ginny, too, but Bill needed her too much to go without touching. The last few days had put him and Fleur both on edge.

Suddenly, the outer door burst open and Hermione rushed in. “So sorry I’m late! I was reading a book Percy gave me and—”

Bill was very curious at the blush on her cheeks when she said that, but he couldn’t contemplate it when all he wanted was to press his lips to hers. He moved forward at the same time she threw herself into his arms, coming together with a thud and knocking the wind out of both of them as they clung to each other.

“I’m just happy to have you here now.” He didn’t need an explanation. Bill kissed the top of her head, then lifted her chin to attack her with a bruising kiss.

He had known he missed her, that he was uncomfortable without her, but he had no idea how desperate he would feel when they were together again. Bill devoured her lips, claiming her with his tongue and teeth until he was growling low in his throat with desire. He was thrilled to find that Hermione was just as passionate.

When she finally pushed away, he almost fought her, but gave it up when she huskily said, “Can we go back to the Cottage? I need to see Fleur, too.”

And have more options for surfaces he could put her on, Bill’s brain helpfully supplied. But this was supposed to be a lunch for reconnecting and talking about things. He couldn’t forget all about it just to fuck her. At least, not too many times.

Bill couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so completely overrun by hormones without Fleur’s mating call being involved. He was almost panting as he let his direct superior know he was going to lunch and snatched Hermione’s hand to spin her through apparition to the Cottage.

They landed in the sitting room and were almost immediately accosted by Fleur. For once, she pushed him aside to better get to Hermione. “I ‘ave missed you, mon chou!” she told the younger woman just before capturing her lips.

She hadn’t used her mating call, but Bill swore he could feel the Veela heat rising between the three of them anyway. Perhaps it was just the strength of their attraction that was making him so hot, but he found himself stepping up to the two women and running his hands over their bodies until they moved slightly to allow him to join the kiss, his tongue tangling with both of theirs as his hands found a breast of each gorgeous woman before him and—

A plate crashed in the kitchen.

“Sorry, sorry!” Charlie called out from the kitchen. “I was just going to grab my food and take it to my room,” he said, blushing profusely. “You go on.”

Bill tried to bring himself back, letting this break kill the moment. “We can do this later,” he said, though his voice was strained.

Fleur growled at his words and Charlie gave an embarrassed laugh. He shook his head. “No, I think the magic wants you to do it now. Let me know when you’re done.” With that, he left them alone.

Hermione surprised Bill by reaching to unbuckle his trousers. His throbbing cock begged her to continue, but he managed to say, “You don’t have to do that. This is supposed to be lunch.”

“And you are deelicious, mon amore,” Fleur declared with a giggle, her hand rubbing his cock while Hermione fought with the buckle, distracted as she was by Fleur’s kiss.

When Hermione managed to release him, Fleur dropped to her knees before him just as Hermione began to kiss up his neck until their lips met and Bill lost himself in the sensations of being kissed and sucked at the same time.

He almost whined when Hermione pulled away, but then she was on her knees, too and his cock was sheathed in her mouth instead. Bill was terrified he wasn’t going to last long enough to not embarrass himself when Hermione pulled back as well. Suddenly, the two began to kiss around the tip of his cock and Bill was sure he was going to lose his mind.

Gripping Hermione’s curls in one hand and Fleur’s silky blonde tresses in the other, he tugged at each of them. Bill barely recognized his own voice when he said, “Much more of that and I’ll be done, loves.”

“Mmmhmmm,” they both hummed the affirmative in a way that pushed him that much closer to the edge.

“Merlin, please,” he begged, wanting their warmth around him again so that he didn’t embarrass himself spraying their faces when he came. As their tongues dueled around him, making his hips buck wildly, Fleur wrapped her delicate hand around the bottom of his cock so that he couldn’t escape their mouths on and around him.

“Fuck, Hermione! Fleur!” he screamed out as they began to take turns giving the head of his cock a quick suck while the other flicked their tongue underneath. Bill couldn’t hold back anymore and his come began to spurt between the two women, covering their faces and dripping down onto exposed breasts. He didn’t even know when that had happened, though seeing those perfect breasts made him convulse harder with pleasure. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so completely empty when he finished.

“Oh dear,” Fleur said breathily. “Beel, you’ve gotten our beautiful ‘Ermione all dirty. I weel ‘ave to clean ‘er off.”

“You, too, Fleur,” Hermione gasped, her eyes following a dripping bit of come down to the other girl’s nipple. She scooped it off with her finger and stuck it in her mouth. Fleur made a noise in the back of her throat that was just on the edge of her mating call. Bill was instantly hard again and, from her moan, Hermione was just as heated.

The two girls began licking and sucking each other, cleaning one another off as Bill palmed himself and watched, trying to hold himself back enough to wait. He needed his cock inside one of them so badly he was ready to beg for it.

He didn’t have to — Hermione looked away from Fleur long enough to give him a saucy look and wriggled her arse at him. She was wearing a short dress, currently pulled aside at the top, one of the straps irreparably broken by the girls’ enthusiasm. Flipping up the short skirt, Bill growled at the sight of her without knickers. Knowing she had been bare for them had him even harder.

Bill slid his hand along her slit, soaking it. He used her own slick as lube for his cock as his other hand reached for her, fingers sliding inside her and curling up to both stimulate her and pull her closer to him. Hermione moaned for him at the contact. He scissored his fingers, wanting to better prepare her this time, but she shook her head at him, causing a squeal from Fleur, whose cunt was now in front of Hermione’s face.

“Fuck me,” Hermione begged. It was much like the time before when she had been too impatient to wait before having him inside her. This time, Bill was determined to stretch her first. He leaned forward and began to plunge his tongue inside her, his fingers moving to lightly twist and flick at her bundle of nerves.

Hermione screamed her release after only a few moments, Fleur joining her. Bill was ready now and he shoved his cock into her still-fluttering pussy.

She was more than ready for him, pushing back against him as she continued to keep Fleur on edge. Bill knew from experience that if you didn’t quit, she wouldn’t come down from that high until you did. He was glad Hermione seemed to be discovering that fact herself.

“Bill, please,” Hermione nearly cried, clearly chasing another orgasm herself.

He just chuckled at her and said, “Touch yourself. Rub your clit for me, little love. I won’t last much longer.” His own hands were busy over her head, three fingers sunk deep into Fleur’s cunt as he began kissing Hermione.

Bill hammered into her, feeling the heat rising more and more between the three of them. When it finally exploded, when he exploded, Bill wasn’t sure he would ever come down from it.

The three of them collapsed as they were on the sofa, unable to move an inch. They were still panting and trying to breathe when Charlie appeared beside them, carefully looking at only Hermione.

“You’ll need a big lunch to recover from that,” he said, handing her a plate with all her favorites. He had one floating along beside him for Bill and Fleur as well. Turning to Bill, though still not looking at his brother, he added, “And you’re running out of time before you have to get back to work.”

It wasn’t quite a reprimand, but Bill knew Charlie was right. There was a lot to accomplish this lunchtime and that hadn’t been part of the agenda. And he had thought they just needed to touch her. Ha.

Bill pulled up his trousers and got busy eating. Fleur and Hermione were doing much the same except Hermione couldn’t quite get dressed. “Merlin, I don’t think this dress is going to mend,” she said after the third time trying Reparo.

“Zat eez okay, mon chou. I weel find you somezing to wear. You ‘ave a date tonight. You ‘ave to look your best,” Fleur stated.

“But we need to talk while we eat,” Hermione protested.

Charlie’s darkened eyes were on her when he said, “I don’t think any of us will mind if you leave it undone for now. You can always dress after Bill goes back to work.”

For a moment it looked like Hermione might protest, but then she smiled at Charlie, nodded, and tucked into her plate.

Bill ate voraciously for a few minutes, much as the others were doing, too, before Charlie prompted him. “You had a few things we needed to talk about?”

“Yes,” Bill said, barely containing the groan he felt like giving. “I need Percy and his lists to be sure I cover everything.” He was only slightly joking.

“What have you been up to while we were gone?” Hermione asked.

“I’ve spent most of my time either at work or with Aunt Muriel,” Bill said. “So the main issues are dealing with the goblins and new family developments. Which do you want first?”

“Let’s hear about the family,” Hermione said after a moment of debate.

Now Bill really did groan. “Well, I’ve learned a lot, but yesterday Mum showed up.”

Both Hermione and Charlie tensed at that. “What happened?”

“She knows about Ginny,” Bill said with a heavy sigh.

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione swore. “How?”

“She still has that damn tapestry. I should have grabbed it before we left that night but I didn’t think about there being anything else for it to reveal,” Bill explained.

“Can we burn the damn thing?” Charlie asked.

Bill chuckled, shaking his head. “We would have to get it away from her first. And there’s no way she would agree to that now.”

“How did Aunt Muriel react?” Hermione asked.

“Surprisingly well,” Bill said, still bemused by that fact. “Much better than Mum. And… Muriel knows about the full family marriage now.”

Charlie nearly choked on his food. Hermione dropped her fork. “What did she say?” she asked fearfully.

Bill shook his head. “She wants us to announce it in the paper.”

“She what?” Hermione demanded, clearly as shocked as he had been.

“With Ginny pregnant, she thinks we should put out the biggest scandal first and then announce that Ginny is pregnant by the Chosen One. She wants the two of them to have a grand society wedding but I said we weren’t forcing them into that.”

Hermione and Charlie both were gaping at him. Hermione found her voice first, “But they can’t marry…”

“I didn’t tell them about how tangled Harry’s bonds have gotten. It just would have given them more of an opening to tell us we’re idiots,” Bill admitted. He would have caught the brunt of that and he didn’t want it. The situation was enough of a mess without being yelled at for it, too.

“So we need to untangle the bonds as soon as possible so they can have that option if they want it,” Hermione said. She could obviously see the logic behind Aunt Muriel’s plan, though she agreed with him that it was still their choice. Not that Bill had expected anything different.

“We do,” Bill agreed.

“That will require some major research time,” Hermione suggested, sounding excited.

“It will,” Bill agreed again, glad he could make her happy with things they were required to do anyway. “We’ll need a full family meeting to decide how to proceed with the announcement.”

“Oui,” Fleur agreed. “We need to deescuss ze schedule as well.”

Hermione paled slightly at that, Bill noticed, but she didn’t say anything. “I will see if everyone can meet tomorrow evening after Percy and I are off work and the shop closes,” he said.

It seemed Charlie was about to say something when they were interrupted by an owl tapping at the window. Fleur went over to get it while Charlie asked, “Do you think talking to the paper is a good idea?”

Bill didn’t answer as his eyes were on his delighted wife. She excitedly brought the envelope to Hermione. “Eet eez from Professor McGonagall!”

“Oh!” Hermione smiled, taking the letter and reading it over rapidly. “She’s invited me to a tea where she plans to introduce me to a number of muggleborns she thinks would be good for the Coalition! And I’m welcome to bring any of you along. Several of the professors will be there, too.”

“I weel go!” Fleur said excitedly. “When eez eet?”

“The day after tomorrow,” Hermione told her.

“I might go too, if you don’t mind,” Charlie said hesitantly. “I would like to meet the other professors as a colleague. And be there in case you need anything, Hermione.”

She smiled beautifully at him and Bill felt a moment of jealousy that he couldn’t go as well, that he somehow wasn’t quite as close to Hermione as Charlie was, despite the almost magical connection Bill shared with both her and Fleur. That was another thing to figure out with the bonds.

“Bill, what else did we need to discuss?” Hermione asked.

Oh Merlin, he didn’t want to drag the mood down. As usual, Fleur rescued him. “I ‘ave been working on the magic to allow a dragon access to eetz meadow ‘ome from inside ze bank. Eet eez ready. Deed you talk to ze Reserve?”

“We did,” Hermione responded eagerly.

“They are willing as long as I can personally tend them and sign off that they are being properly cared for,” Charlie spoke up. “It’s a mated pair of Chinese Fireballs.”

“Perfect!” Fleur said, clapping and smiling at the two.

“Will that make things up to the goblins, do you think?” Hermione asked.

“I hope so,” Bill answered honestly. “I’m still concerned about them meeting you — what they’re going to say about a baby born of ritual and all that mess.”

Hermione nodded, looking just as concerned. “They can’t be angry with us for not conceiving,” she said. “And it’s none of their business that I just couldn’t carry a child right now.”

Bill nodded. “Yeah, it might be best if they don’t know that bit. Just in case they think you did it on purpose somehow.”

“I still don’t understand what they want with a human baby,” Charlie commented.

Bill could only shrug. He didn’t understand either but they seemed very focused on it. He hoped they would explain themselves when he brought Hermione to them and proved she was not with child. Or maybe he didn’t want to know, because maybe it was too awful to contemplate. With goblins, it could go either way.

“I think we need to meet with them,” Hermione surprised him by saying. Bill blinked.

“Are you sure you want—”

“I have to meet with them sooner or later anyway — Ron, too — or we’ll never be able to do any banking. We need to let them know it’s the two of us making amends,” Hermione explained.

Bill couldn’t argue with that. “You’re right. It would be best if you’re both with me when we talk about it.”

“Is there already a meeting for that scheduled?” Hermione asked.

“No, but I can request an audience when I get back to work,” Bill assured her.

“See if they can do it in three days,” Hermione said with a sigh. Bill noticed, as he looked around the table, that he wasn’t the only one who had noticed and felt worried by Hermione’s despondent reaction to scheduling.

“I’ll do that,” Bill answered. “For now, I have to get going.” He didn’t want to, but it was necessary. The goblins would not take it well if he was away much longer. There were too many dark objects that needed his expertise and he was too deeply in their debt.

Hermione and Fleur both moved from the table to kiss him goodbye, once separately, then the three of them crowding together.

Charlie raised his voice a little to say, “I’ll just clear up the dishes, shall I?”

“Oui, zat would be much appreciated,” Fleur said unabashedly. Bill found himself chuckling and smiling as he left.

**************

George walked through the crowds, pulling pranks and handing out flyers. Well, he was mostly pulling the pranks and Ginny was mostly handing out the flyers, but sometimes they switched it up just to confuse people.

He was thrilled by the reaction they were getting. Everyone seemed excited about the reopening of the joke shop. It would probably be even better if they had had the foresight to announce it in the paper, but George knew they didn’t want to wait that long. The reporters would show up tomorrow anyway, he was certain.

“Have we been out here long enough?” Ginny asked, looking a bit paler than usual.

Hastily, George nodded. “Of course. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” his sister assured him, but she still looked like she might collapse. This was clearly too much for her.

He put on a Headless Hat and started down the street with his arm linked in hers to be certain Ginny was well supported in case she went down. At least it didn’t slow her down any. Ginny continued to hand out flyers to anyone interested and then personally thunk the side of his invisible head to prove he was still there, laughing all the while.

She was giggling and running from him by the time they made it back to the shop. George almost wasn’t worried anymore, except she actually looked more pale than she had before. By the time he threw open the door, Fred had Ginny tossed — gently — over his shoulder and was headed for the stairs to the flat.

“George — I leave you in charge of this young slip of a child and you return her starving and ready to faint from exhaustion!” He was using his most ridiculous gallant knight voice, but George could tell he was worried.

“I have failed you, indeed!” George admitted, glad Fred had taken over.

He followed them up the stairs and gratefully watched as Fred forced Ginny to drink what looked like a gallon of water and then threw together some soup.

“I don’t want soup,” Ginny whined, but she seemed pleased Fred was fussing over her.

“Tell Harry to bring you something else then,” Fred quipped.

Ginny grumbled, “I’ll just go to the owl post and send him one, shall I?”

George laughed at her predicament. “You could send your Patronus,” he pointed out.

“It’s not that important,” Ginny grumbled.

Thinking of all the situations where it was a pain, George commented, “The wizarding world really does need a better way to communicate. Muggles really have that figured out. Think we could make a magical fellytone?”

Fred cocked his head to the side. “We could certainly try. It could be something small and portable like the Muggles have now. Maybe put the magic in a watch or—”

“A ring—” They began volleying possibilities back and forth.

“A necklace—”

“A quill—”

“A mirror—”

“A mirror?” Ginny asked. “So it could break all over someone while they try to talk? You two are mental.”

“Surely you already knew that,” George said with a grin. “But you do have a point. It needs to be something durable.”

“And something they won’t lose,” Fred added.

George pulled out one of their idea notebooks and began to sketch their ideas. There might be plenty of more important things the family was facing, but he and Fred were still going to invent things and it wouldn’t hurt for those things to be imminently useful as well.

***********

Charlie smiled as the two women disappeared up to Fleur’s room to find something appropriate for Hermione’s date tonight. He had a feeling he was going to be very jealous when he saw her again.

He sighed as he worked on the sink of dishes, wishing he had the ability to shut off those emotions. Charlie was happy with what he and Hermione had, truly he was. He wasn’t angry about his brothers and sister and Fleur being with Hermione. But Merlin, when he saw her with any of them, it was so bloody difficult not to react.

None of the others seemed to have this problem, either. Maybe it was just that he had a few days without having to share her, so now it was harder? That would be a good theory if he hadn’t been jealous before, too.

My Soulmate. He felt himself shiver at that thought. It was the only thing that made sense.

Of course she was his soulmate. Of course that was why he needed her so much more than he should, why he had been unable to think of anyone else since Bill’s wedding, why he had felt compelled to declare his devotion during the ritual. It was the only thing that made sense.

He couldn’t wait for September, when they would know for sure and they could both stop worrying about it. Because what if it wasn’t her?

Charlie had to take deep breaths to get past that thought. He was being ridiculous and he knew it. She wouldn’t love him any less if he wasn’t her soulmate. It just hurt so bloody much to think of the twins having that connection with her when he did not.

And he was back to jealousy. Charlie had never been a jealous person and he didn’t like it now, either.

But when Fleur came rushing out, grabbing his arm and turning him around as she said, “Look at ze vision zat eez our wife!” Charlie felt it again.

Because she was every inch as gorgeous as Fleur had implied. Her ankle length gown was a periwinkle blue that somehow made her look both womanly and innocent at the same time. Charlie didn’t know the way to describe the cut of the dress, but he knew it hugged the right curves and then flared out in a very appealing way. Her breasts were accentuated but not displayed by the almost square neckline. Fleur had put Hermione’s hair up, leaving tendrils free here and there, artistically styled to look like they had just fallen out. It was… enough to make a man want to show her off and then hide her away for himself.

Tonight was Percy’s, he reminded himself. Of all of them, Percy had had the least amount of time with Hermione. He deserved this. And even if he didn’t, they weren’t in Romania anymore. Charlie knew he had to share.

Merlin, Romania. Something else to struggle over. Charlie couldn’t say how relieved he was that Mikal had decided he should keep his cabin. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to cope with knowing that other whole world was closed to him. Not that it ever would be. He could still visit Florin and the others, but having his cabin was different than just visiting someone else.

It was a symbol that he still belonged.

“See, ‘Ermione! ‘E cannot even speak!” Fleur said with a tinkling laugh as she thumped him on the back.

Clearing his throat, Charlie said, “You look… I can’t even describe you, you look so good.”

Hermione seemed hesitant for some reason, as though she were suddenly uncertain of his feelings. Had he been in his own head that long? He took her hand, dropping to one knee and kissing it. He wasn’t the twins, but he could be plenty dramatic when he wanted to be. “My lady, you are radiant, and far more fair than a man such as I could ever deserve.”

She laughed, as he had hoped she would, and tugged on his hand. When Charlie stood, he was very careful as he approached her. “I don’t feel like I should be allowed to touch you,” he said in a voice much lower than he had meant to speak.

“I promise you should, Charlie. You always should.”

He smiled down at her and brought his lips gently to hers, not wanting to mess up any of the work that had gone into her look. Hermione kissed him back just as gently, and when they let go, the loving look in her eyes sent his heart soaring. He loved the passion they shared, too, but sometimes these sweet kisses, the quiet love they had for each other was somehow more.

**********

Hermione was shaken by the interaction with Charlie. He could say so few words and leave her feeling so devastatingly loved. She knew that thought didn’t even make sense, but it was no less true.

Still, she had to be ready for Percy and, after reading his book that morning, she was feeling far less prepared than she would have liked. She knew from their encounters so far that he wanted her to submit. She even knew, from her own responses, that she seemed to like it. The book had helped her clarify what that meant — both her responses and his desires to guide them.

She couldn’t say that she was opposed to seeing where things would go, but she almost wished they weren’t likely to talk about it in the kind of detail she expected he would want to. There had been a few copied pages of parchment tucked into the back — not a contract as suggested, but a list of limits.

Hermione wasn’t sure she was ready for that. But, ready or not, here was Percy.

“Good evening,” he greeted. “You look lovely.”

He took no liberties and didn’t even try to kiss her, a marked difference from all the rest. He did take her hand, and bow down to it, but didn’t even press his lips there, though his eyes caught hers and held with his lips hovering over her skin close enough to feel his breath.

Her heart fluttered dangerously, though she tried not to show it too much in front of the others. Fleur looked thrilled for her, but Charlie was looking stoic, his expression set just shy of a grimace. This was hard on him, but she couldn’t worry about it tonight.

“Are you ready to go?” Percy asked.

“I am,” she replied. She had everything she needed — including the damned book — tucked away in her bag, which Fleur had transfigured to match her dress for the evening. “Where are we going?” she asked curiously.

“To my flat,” he said with a small frown. “I would like to take you out as you deserve, but we can’t be seen.”

Hermione nodded, feeling much sadder about that than she ever would have imagined. Somehow, having this man take her out sounded so much more appealing than eating in town ever had before.

“Your flat sounds perfect,” Hermione heard herself say, even though she was also thinking about how alone they would be there and how she would be at his mercy. Not that she was afraid of Percy. She trusted him. She just wasn’t sure what she could handle right now. She was tired, and sore, and honestly would have rather been going to bed than going out even to someone’s flat.

There was a slight tightening around Percy’s eyes that suggested her answer had disappointed him, that maybe he knew she wasn’t being completely truthful. She already felt guilty, like she should apologize.

He held out his arm and for a moment Hermione thought he might be intending to apparate them. Instead, he very courteously escorted her to the Floo and stepped inside, saying his address as he did.

The flat was pristine. Soot didn’t even dare fall off of them as they exited the Floo. She wondered how he had worked that bit of magic, but she was too busy taking in everything else to comment. She was surprised by how masculine the cream and brown color scheme looked, how perfectly it matched Percy’s demeanor. Hermione realized she had expected something more black and white, but Percy kept surprising her.

There were bookshelves filled with books that had very classic-looking matching spines neatly interspersed with decor pieces that might start a conversation should anyone be over to look at them. Somehow she still didn’t think he had many visitors.

Hermione could smell a delicious scent wafting from the kitchen and dining room. She gasped at the candlelit table when she saw it. It was loaded with food and had a very romantic feel.

“Come, let us dine,” he said formally, leading her to the table.

Percy pulled out her chair and waited patiently to scoot her in manually. He could have easily done it with magic or left her to it but this somehow felt far more intimate.

As dinner began, the conversation was stilted — a comment here and there about how the food was, a compliment about the flat. Hermione couldn’t tell if she was making it so awkward or if he was actually nervous about something. They were halfway through the meal before Percy set his wine glass down and cleared his throat meaningfully.

“When we made this date, a subject had come up that I wasn’t ready to discuss. A subject… well, I’m still not ready to discuss it, but you deserve to know,” he said.

Hermione felt herself tense up. “Is this about the book?” She asked.

“Yes and no,” Percy answered. “I gave you the book so you might understand the kind of relationship I want with you. This is about the relationships I already have.”

Despite how worn out Hermione felt and how much she hadn’t exactly wanted to be on a date tonight, she felt a pang in her heart at the idea that Percy didn’t want her. He had someone else and he—

She stopped her train of thought right there. Why would he have gone to all this effort — making the dinner so romantic looking and giving her the book — if he had no inclination toward her?

“You already have relationships?” She repeated a little shakily.

“I do,” he said with a bit of a wince. “It’s never been anything serious, not since… we’ll, do you remember back in school I dated Penelope Clearwater?”

“Yes,” Hermione responded.

“She was my first but we found rather quickly that our… passions didn’t match. Or rather, they matched too well. We both like to dominate and neither of us are interested in being dominated. It meant our relationship didn’t really work out, but we remained friends. Penny delved deeply into the lifestyle while I focused on the Ministry and my work there, but when I needed stress relief during the war — especially after the family and I blew up — I turned to her for help.”

“I thought you said things didn’t work between you?” Hermione asked, captivated.

“I was hoping she would point me in the direction of some submissives, but I was very naive. I didn’t understand what it meant to be a real Dom at first. Miss Penny agreed to teach me, but I had to submit to her to get the training.”

“That doesn’t sound very fair,” Hermione commented.

Percy shrugged. “It’s the way these things work. And I understand now. In order to be a proper Dom, you have to know what it’s like to submit. You have to understand what it’s like to have your limits pushed.”

Hermione felt her nerves fluttering at that. She wasn’t sure what her limits were, but she didn’t like the sound of having them pushed. Percy was continuing his narration, unaware that she was worried.

“So I’ve been working with Miss Penny ever since. I’ve gotten to the point that she sets me up with some of her less demanding clients.”

“Clients?” Hermione questioned.

Biting his lip, Percy nodded. “People who want to be dominated but either can’t get that within their relationships or don’t have a relationship at all. Miss Penny is well known in the community as someone who can arrange this… service.”

“And you take on clients who want to be dominated?” Hermione clarified.

“I do,” he told her. “It’s not always explicitly sexual but… sometimes it is.”

Hermione blinked at him, unsure how she felt about that.

Taking a sip of wine for fortification and a deep breath, Percy said, “When we had that original conversation, that was all I had to tell you. But now —“

“It’s only been a few days,” Hermione said.

“I know, but… Magic.”

“Magic?” She asked.

“When you bonded with Ron, it sent that wave of love through everyone, you recall.”

“Yes,” she said, but she didn’t see what that had to do with anything.

“I was with a client at the time,” Percy told her, taking another sip of wine as he watched her carefully.

“And the magic… so now you’re in love with this person?”

“I’m… I don’t know what I am. But it changed things between us. Significantly. And we both now want to… explore the possibilities,” Percy admitted.

“What does Miss Penny think of that?” Hermione asked, deflecting the conversation away from her own reaction while she processed.

Percy blushed. “She’s furious and I’ve received quite the punishment for it. Which, as I am not a submissive, was unpleasant for me.”

“But you still took it?” Hermione asked in surprise. She didn’t understand why he would permit that if he didn’t like it.

“I deserved it as Miss Penny is dominant to me and I went against what I was expressly permitted to do.”

“But the magic—“

“Isn’t a good enough excuse for continuing the behavior,” Percy finished.

“Does this person know you are married?”

Percy paled. “No. I can’t… if I tell him… he’s in a very influential position, one we didn’t want to know about all of us. I can’t tell him without everyone’s approval.”

“He? Who is he?” Hermione demanded, knowing she couldn’t really expect an answer, but wanting it anyway.

Looking away, Percy mumbled something. When Hermione responded with “who?” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Minister Shacklebolt,” he said.

“Kingsley?” Hermione asked, floored. “Kingsley Shacklebolt. The Minister for Magic. That Minister Shacklebolt was a client for being dominated?”

“It’s quite common for those in stressful positions who have to be in control all the time to enjoy the relief of having someone else take total command,” Percy explained in his old prefect tone.

“So you’re in a relationship with Kingsley,” Hermione found herself saying again, still not quite believing it.

“We’re… something to each other. If you’re okay with it. And if he isn’t furious when I can tell him I’m married. It’s a lot to take in for both of you,” Percy said. Hermione noticed that he was carefully watching her face again.

She had no idea what her expression was telling him. She had no idea what she was feeling. Was she angry that the bondgasm with Ron, such that it was, had fundamentally changed things for Percy with someone she hadn’t known he was with? Was she upset that he was, apparently, spending time with multiple people in a sexual manner? Hermione really wasn’t sure.

She also wasn’t sure if she had any right to be upset even if she was. And… if she was honest… she might not be terribly upset. The image her imagination conjured — of Percy with Kingsley — didn’t fill her with revulsion. It… it made her want to rub her thighs together for friction at her suddenly wet core.

Percy instantly took note of her squirming. She could tell by the way his sharp eyes followed her and his eyebrow quirked up. “Of course, if you liked the idea — both of you — this would open a whole other avenue of play.”

Hermione was startled by that phrasing. “I don’t know if I want to be something you just ‘play’ with.”

“As if you could ever be just that,” Percy scoffed. “But I know you want to play, too.”

“What makes you so certain?” Hermione asked.

“Remember how I said those who have to be in control enjoy a break from it? I suspect you will enjoy having me guide your every move.” His voice had dropped low as he spoke.

Hermione couldn’t hide the fact that her breath caught in her throat. “I’m not really in control of anything,” she managed to say.

The look he gave her made it known how ridiculous that statement was. “With me, you will be able to let go of all the stress of making choices. I will decide what you are allowed to do or not do.”

“And if I agree to this, what will you make me do?” she asked. Hermione wasn’t sure if she was trembling from fear or arousal.

His words dripped from his lips like honey. “Anything I want.”

Definitely arousal. She was definitely reacting with arousal rather than the more rational fear, but she had no idea what to say.

“But that’s not really true,” Percy said in a more normal voice, still commanding, but less… sexual. “I would never push you past your limits. Did you get to the chapter about limits?”

“I finished the book,” Hermione confirmed, still trying to breathe normally after that interlude of sensuality between them.

“What an overachiever,” he smirked. “I always knew we would be a good match when it came to our studies.”

“Thank you,” she answered, though she wasn’t really sure if that was the appropriate answer or not. Percy had her so off balance.

Watching her, Percy commented, “You never said how you feel about my… extramarital activities. And Kingsley.” She had never seen him nervous, but the way he was pushing his food around on his plate made her think he might be.

Hermione took a sip of her wine to stall, wondering why this felt so awkward. “I’ve said before that I can’t ask any of you to be with just me. I meant it.”

“I’m glad, but I want to know… especially this actual… relationship…” He said the last word like it was something dirty.

“Do you not want it to be a relationship?” she asked.

“I… I don’t know what I want,” Percy admitted, looking like the confession had been wrung from him. His voice took on a shaky timbre as he continued, “I certainly wouldn’t have wanted it before that surge of magic, but now that it’s happening… I think I like it. I just feel so… off balance.”

Before she could think better of it, Hermione laughed in relief. Percy looked so offended that Hermione was mortified. “No! I’m not laughing at you. I just… that’s exactly how I feel with you tonight. Any night. Off balance. Like I don’t know what’s going to happen and I’m not sure if I like it or not, but—” She cut herself off, blushing.

“But?” he asked, looking like he understood what she didn’t want to say. “Use your words.”

Hermione squirmed, this time just not wanting to admit the truth. But the look he was giving her brooked no argument. She swallowed hard before telling him, “But the way my body responds says that I do like it.”

“You were made to be commanded,” he said confidently and Hermione felt another wave of relief that this Percy, the calm, commanding one, had returned. “Made for me to command,” he added, enjoying the heat he seemed to know was beating through her body now.

“Yes, sir,” she responded, shivering when she heard that word come out of her mouth. Percy grinned like a cat.

“Did you fill out the list?” he asked. “I left that copy hoping you would.”

Hermione swallowed hard and shook her head. She hated the feeling that she was disappointing him already.

Percy gave her a long look over his glasses, then asked, “I know I didn’t explicitly tell you to, but surely you realized you should. Why didn’t you?”

“Ginny was there, for one thing,” Hermione explained, “But mostly… mostly just because I didn’t know… I’m not sure…”

“Eat your dessert,” he admonished her instead of commenting on her confusion. Hermione looked down, surprised to see that she had cleaned her plate at some point and dessert had appeared beside her. She dug in, needing something to clear her head.

As Percy, too, began to eat again, he looked contemplative. Finally, he said, “It’s reasonable to be unsure about quite a few things, and to not know what some of them even are. Maybe you never want to experiment with some things, and that’s okay, too. For now, perhaps we could just cover the things that most interest you.”

Hermione breathed deeply. That sounded reasonable. “Okay,” she said as she took the last bite of her food.

“Good girl,” he told her. “Now come sit on my lap,” he commanded as the dishes took themselves away to the kitchen. The list flew to his hand as he waited for her to come around the table.

Getting up, Hermione walked around quickly before she could lose her nerve. When she gingerly tried to sit, Percy pulled up her long skirt so that his hand could rest on the skin of her thigh.

“I could take it off,” she suggested. Percy’s eyebrows rose so Hermione hastily explained, “It belongs to Fleur. I don’t want to crumple it.”

For a moment, Hermione thought he was going to remove his hand instead, but then he stood her up and began to slowly unzip the dress. She felt his hands gently peel the dress down her body, leaving her in just the lacy underthings Fleur had given her, periwinkle to match the dress.

“Perfection,” Percy breathed. “Leave your shoes on, put the dress on the sofa, and come back here.”

She did as he said, though she felt ridiculous wearing shoes with just a bra and knickers on. When she slid onto his lap this time, she could feel how hard he was through his trousers. She couldn’t help but love that she had this effect on him, amused that he was supposed to be in control but she could still make him react.

“Now,” Percy began, leaning her back so that he could look over her shoulder at the list. “Can you tell me the things that you know you’re interested in?”

“I like it when you call me a good girl. And when I have to call you ‘sir’,” she answered. She knew that much for sure. Her body responded to just the thought and she wriggled against his hard cock.

“Be still,” he snapped. When she immediately froze, he chuckled. “Do you like it when I tell you how to move? Would you want me to restrain you so that you are unable to move on your own?” he asked, his voice a whispered purr in her ear.

“Yes, sir,” she answered, still not daring to move. He made a couple of marks on the list. Hesitantly, she asked, “Aren’t I supposed to fill it out?”

He paused, then said, “You’re welcome to, if you can manage.”

“What would make it hard to manage now that you’re here to help me?”

“The hard part will be inside you,” he said with another wicked grin. “How would you like to sit here with my cock in your dripping pussy while we go over your list?”

Hermione couldn’t deny how good that sounded. In fact, her answer came out as a moan, “Yes please, sir.”

Percy shifted her forward so that he could bring his cock out of his trousers and pants. He didn’t bother undressing so she was still far more exposed than him, the inequality of it making Hermione feel exquisitely vulnerable to him.

As he moved, Percy kept explaining what was about to happen. “You think this is going to be fun, but we’re just putting my cock in you. You’re going to keep it warm and wet for me while we work through your list. You’re not allowed to move at all.”

Looking back at him over her shoulder, Hermione moaned again, like a wanton slut, at the image he was painting for her, increasing her anticipation tenfold.

He lifted her up with one arm while the other hand pulled her knickers to the side and lined his cock up with her wet hole. As he started to slide her body onto his, Hermione’s sounds of pleasure turned to a yelp of pain. Percy stopped instantly.

“I’m hurting you?” he questioned as though he couldn’t quite believe it.

“It’s okay. I just need a minute to adjust and it will be fine,” she told him, tears starting down her cheeks.

A crease appeared between his brows. “You’re soaking wet. This shouldn’t be too much—”

Percy cut himself off, lifting her and laying her on his dining table with her pussy right in front of him, the candles still on the table, the book, and the list all moved magically off to the side. A wave of his hand brought the lights in the room much brighter as he began working her knickers completely off.

“What—” Hermione began before he shushed her, leaning down to look at her closely. If she had felt exposed before, this was a completely overwhelming violation. But his fingers were gentle on her as Percy began to prod her.

“You’re swollen, probably from overuse. That has to be sore,” he commented, his voice soothing.

Hermione’s vision blurred as tears started anew. “It is. I’m so sore,” she answered. All of the exhaustion and soreness she had been setting aside seemed to settle back on her in that moment.

Yes, she had rested well with Charlie in Romania and then last night with the twins, but… this was a soul deep exhaustion. She was just tired of trying to meet everyone’s needs and be what the world needed her to be and then adding all the physical needs of her partners as well… She couldn’t help it; Hermione began crying in earnest, almost sobbing.

She suddenly found herself back in Percy’s arms as he moved them over to the sofa, the dress moving itself to an armchair instead. He sat down, keeping her in his lap, but this time his cock had gone soft and his hold on her was not sexual but soothing. He summoned a blanket to curl around her body.

“They haven’t been taking good care of you,” Percy said, sounding almost angry as he dried the tears off her face.

Feeling defensive on her other lovers’ behalf, she said, “Charlie always made sure to prepare me well first and I insisted I wanted—”

“I’m sure you did, but—”

“And Bill, this morning—” she continued as she curled her body around him.

“Bill took you this morning? After you had been with Charlie for days?” Percy sounded like he was trying hard not to snap. “Do they have no idea how to take care of a woman?” he muttered angrily.

“I wanted—” she tried again.

“Of course you wanted him. You want us all. This bond makes us crave each other, I swear. But that’s no excuse not to make sure you heal properly and are not overused. What kind of aftercare did Bill give you?”

“Well we… there wasn’t much time and we had a lot to talk about,” she excused him.

“Did he even remember a contraceptive charm?” Percy said, then swore vehemently after he saw her expression, following it with the spell. “It’s lucky your body still hasn’t recovered enough for it to be a big concern since the spell isn’t as effective hours later. We need to get you on a monthly potion.”

“Percy, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you apologize, Hermione,” he said fiercely. “It’s not your fault we haven’t been taking good enough care of you — myself included as I just demonstrated by assuming you would be ready for me.”

“But I—”

With a sigh, Percy said, “You need to recognize when to stop as well,” agreeing with the words he hadn’t allowed her to speak. “But it is still our job to make sure you are cared for. Tell me how you really feel tonight. Not how you think you should feel or how you believe I want you to feel. I need to know how you’re really doing.”

“I’ve been turned on,” she hastened to assure him.

Percy rolled his eyes. “That much was obvious, but it doesn’t tell me that you’re swollen and sore or how you feel about everything. I think, now that I’m paying attention in the right way, that you are overwhelmed by everyone else’s needs and not inclined to take care of your own. We took the time to schedule ourselves but didn’t give you time for yourself, so it’s still not really working. Is that right, little girl?”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed petulantly, but she couldn’t help the smile that she pressed into his shoulder as he held her. “I feel exhausted inside, mentally and emotionally, not just physically tired. I don’t want to disappoint you or anyone else and there’s so much that has to be done all the time and so many of you who need my attention and—”

“You are ours to worship and care for, Hermione. We should all be worrying over you, not the other way around. Tomorrow’s family meeting can’t come soon enough,” Percy said.

“We have much more important things to worry about than me,” she pointed out, knowing that this wasn’t important enough to bring up.

“We have nothing as important as you,” Percy contradicted her. “Now, tonight I have some instructions for you.”

“But we haven’t finished the list,” Hermione reminded him.

Shaking his head, Percy told her, “The list will wait for another time. Tonight I will be bathing you thoroughly and using a special type of cream on your body. Beyond that, I won’t be touching your glorious pussy.”

She started to protest, but he put a finger to her lips. “After I bathe you, we’re going to bed. We can curl up together or I will kiss your forehead and leave you to sleep alone if that’s what you need.”

“Alone?” she gasped, not meaning to sound so excited.

Percy smiled indulgently and said, “I get the feeling we’ve been smothering you a bit. When was the last time you were alone?”

It took her far too long to come up with the answer. “A few days before the battle, I think. When I was on guard duty.”

“I don’t think that even counts,” Percy said with a disgusted snort. “You don’t need to answer this right now — or tell me at all — but think about when the last time you were able to be alone and actually take care of yourself. I have a feeling the answer will be telling.”

“Okay,” she answered, starting to think about it, but then shutting off the thought as too much, too far back to even contemplate.

Percy spoke again, “I will be with you tonight if you want, but I can happily sleep elsewhere if you want a bed to yourself. I have a guest room.”

“Oh,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment.

“You want me with you?” he asked.

“I… I’m not sure yet, but I was hoping to sleep in your bed, even if I’m alone. It… it will smell like you.”

Percy smiled at her in a way that had Hermione’s heart racing again, but instead of taking advantage of her, he scooped her up and headed for the bath.

*************

Turning the taps on before they even reached the bathroom, the tub was half full by the time they arrived. Percy waved his wand, adding lavender bath salts to the water, specially charmed to take the ache from one’s muscles. She could use that and it would help her rest, he hoped.

As the water reached its optimum depth, Hermione squirmed as though she intended to leave his arms, to get in herself.

“Relax,” he commanded softly. “I will take care of you.”

She stopped moving, but said, “You’ll get wet if you put me in the tub.”

“A little wetness won’t hurt me,” Percy told her, a tiny tease in his voice. With that, he gently lowered her into the water.

It did indeed soak his shirt, but he didn’t care. With a whisper of magic, his shirt was off and neatly tidied away in his room. Percy leaned over the tub, Accioed a clean flannel, and began gently rubbing over her arms.

“You don’t have to clean me,” Hermione said, her cheeks pink with some kind of emotion, though Percy hoped it wasn’t embarrassment. He wasn’t certain why she would feel that way, but he didn’t know any other reason for her blush.

“But I will,” he told her, making sure she understood that this was what he would be doing. Then, thinking better of it, he added, “Unless you truly do not want me to.”

Blushing harder, she said, “It-it’s lovely. I just don’t want you to trouble—”

“You’re no trouble to me, Hermione. Especially not when I get the honor of taking care of you.” He leaned forward and brushed a kiss to her temple as he began to carefully run the flannel over her breasts. Slowly, he worked his way over her entire body.

“This would be easier for you if you got in,” Hermione suggested at one point.

“Are you trying to get me naked?” Percy asked playfully.

She blushed delightfully again. “No. I just want this to be easy on you.”

“That would make things quite hard on me, rest assured,” he told her with an eyebrow raised. He was rock hard again already, but fortunately she didn’t need to know that. “Now budge up a bit and let me get your back.”

He worked silently on washing her back, finally dropping the cloth and putting his hands on her shoulders to both pull her back into a reclining position and begin massaging her shoulders. “I don’t need to be naked with you to care for you, Hermione. Neither do the rest of them, even if they haven’t realized it yet.”

“It’s fine—”

“It’s not,” he said firmly. “You deserve better than we’ve been doing and I am determined to give it to you.”

Hermione started to protest again, but instead moaned as he worked out a particularly tough knot on the right side of her shoulder. “Do you want me to continue this or let you have some time in here to yourself? I could bring a book and some wine.”

“C-could you— I feel rude, Percy,” Hermione stuttered.

“Don’t. I command you to tell me what would make you feel happiest and most relaxed right now,” he told her.

Smiling shyly, she said, “In that case, sir… could I have the book, wine, and you keep doing what you’re doing?”

Percy smiled at her. “Absolutely, my girl.” And without hesitation he provided all three of those things.

Chapter 28

Notes:

I just want to let you all know that I think it's going to be a while before the next chapter goes up. I'm dedicating September to finishing out a different WIP (one I can foreseeably finish in WIPtember) and October will mostly be spent on the Trick or Treat gift exchange. I'm sure I'll slip in some writing on this now and then and I might surprise myself and finish a chapter sooner than I expect, but most likely not.

A lot happens in this chapter, though, so I hope you enjoy!

Thank you to my team, LadyWinterlight and Astrangefan.

Fred gasped awake as the blankets were jerked off of his bed.

“Whaa—” he began but his older brother, standing over him looking more fierce and angry than Fred had ever seen Percy before, was already yelling over him.

“How dare you treat Hermione the way you have been!? You — you two,” Percy amended as George skidded into the room, wand out and clearly concerned, “are soulbonded to her. How can you possibly not have seen how inadequately we have been caring for her?”

“We’re not inadequate!” Fred protested.

“I’m not talking about your bloody prowess in bed. This is about the exact opposite of that!”

Percy was clearly incensed, but Fred had no idea where this might have come from. George, however, seemed to have a better grasp on it. Lowering his wand, George asked, “Are you saying that we haven’t been meeting her other needs? Like making sure she eats enough and—”

“Yes!” Percy shouted at him, unable to stand George’s slow, careful words. “She needs food, rest, healing, and time to her bloody self. She needs books and chocolates and cuddles when she wants them. She deserves so much better than any of us have been doing and the two of you should have bloody well known it even if the rest did not.”

“Maybe she needs those things, but we haven’t done anything she didn’t want—” Fred started again.

Percy looked enraged. “The magic makes her want us all, but especially the two of you. She craves the connection with you just like you do with her but it doesn’t have to all be about sex.”

Fred felt his blood boiling but it was George who snarked back, “What do you want our relationship to be about then?”

“Taking care of her like I just—”

“You think we don’t want to meet her needs?” George asked.

“If that’s what you want, you’re doing a bloody terrible job of it,” Percy raged. “The bond you have with Hermione is unique. You have the ability to know how she’s doing in a way the rest of us do not. Pay the fuck attention to it!”

“What have we not—” Fred began.

“She was sore and hurting, physically hurting from overuse!” Percy snarled at them. “The others have to learn to take care of her, apparently you all do, but you had to know she was not doing well!”

They looked at each other, squirming with discomfort. Fred knew they both had been aware of Hermione’s discomfort, though not precisely where she was hurting. Fred was unsure if that was because the bond wasn’t quite as open with information as Percy seemed to think or if they were just remiss in interpreting it.

“I can’t speak completely for Fred,” George said, “but neither of us had time with her yesterday. I thought the others would take care of it, of her. And you clearly did if the status of the bond this morning is any indicator.”

“It is good?” Percy asked, eyes gleaming. “Better?”

“It is,” Fred confirmed.

Percy seemed momentarily mollified, but then he glowered at them again. “She should not have gone all day feeling distressed when you could have bloody well said something to someone! And next time you will.”

George looked cowed at that, but Fred only felt angry. Percy turned his nose up and stormed out of Fred’s bedroom and back toward the floo he had presumably come through.

“Hey!” Fred yelled, scrambling out of the bed and chasing his brother down the hall. “You can’t just come in here and yell us awake and make demands—”

“I think I can and I will every time I am forced to see our amazing wife overwhelmed and hurting. So expect a lot of visits like this until you can get your act together!” Percy shouted back just before throwing his handful of floo powder and calling out for Shell Cottage.

**********

Percy stormed purposefully out of the floo at Shell Cottage, startling his two older brothers, Fleur, and Ginny as they were seated around the dining table having what smelled like a delicious breakfast.

“Percival, would you like some—” Fleur began, but he stopped her with a sneer. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be distracted.

“Do none of you know how to care for a woman?” he roared at them. “How about a friend? Lover? Our wife?”

“What’s wrong with Hermione?” Charlie asked, instantly concerned and upset. He was standing almost before the others had even reacted to Percy’s words.

“How bloody dare you ask that? Have you never heard of aftercare? If you’re going to force that thing on her, you have to take care of her after.”

Charlie’s face had gone red, both from embarrassment and anger, Percy suspected. “I would never force—”

“You don’t have to. She’ll make herself because she wants to make you happy, the magic especially wants her to make you happy. But what have you done for her?” Percy demanded.

“I always take care of her first!” Charlie shouted at him. “And prepare her as much as she’ll let me. I can’t control what the magic is doing to us!”

“Which is why it’s vital that you give her proper aftercare!” Percy spoke angrily. The others were watching as though this were a Quidditch match.

“You keep saying that, but I don’t even know what you mean,” Charlie retorted, still in a raised voice, but this time sounding more bewildered than anything. “I make sure she’s happy.” He sounded more uncertain now.

“Aftercare is when you help her come down from whatever you’ve done. She needs talking and cuddling and for you to bloody well check and make sure she isn’t physically damaged.”

There was a pause before Charlie asked, sounding anguished, “Was she? Damaged, I mean.”

“Not just from you,” Percy said, turning his furious gaze to Bill and Fleur.

She looked instantly guilty, but Bill was defiant. “You don’t get to come in here and tell us we can’t be with our wife, Percy. Just because you want to do unspeakable things to her—”

“I did nothing to her last night except provide the care she has been sorely lacking. She doesn’t just need aftercare, she needs us to take care of her all the time! Hermione just fought a war from the front lines. She was starving and living in terror. Then she got thrown straight into this situation where she needs to take care of eight other people. When do you think was the last time the poor girl had time to really rest, time to take care of herself?”

He was met with silence and guilty faces.

“That’s right,” Percy went on. “She hasn’t. So it’s up to us to take care of her, to give her everything she needs even when she can’t or won’t ask for it.”

“She wasn’t the only one on the front lines,” Ginny spoke up, sniffling a little. “We all just went through a war, Percy, and we all need care.”

Percy relented slightly, looking down at his sister, the youngest of them all. “I don’t doubt that you also need care, Ginny. And I know the magic wants you to turn to her, but understand that Hermione only has so much to give. The rest of us are here for you, too.”

He shot Bill and Charlie looks that he hoped clearly communicated the need for them to step up. They both nodded solemnly. They would see to Ginny better than they had been, too.

“Does anyone still need an explanation of how behavior must change?” He looked to Fleur, who had said nothing but was looking pale and sad.

She shook her head. “I should ‘ave known better to take care of ‘Ermione,” the woman said, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“We have all been lacking,” Bill said, his acceptance finally kicking in. Ginny still looked petulant and Charlie looked devastated that he hadn’t done enough, but they both nodded in understanding.

“Glad we are all on the same page,” Percy said sharply. “I’ll be bringing this up again at the meeting this evening, but for now I have one more person to see before work.”

*************

Hermione woke to a tapping sound on the door. It took her a moment to figure out where she was, disoriented by finding herself in a bed alone. One deep breath in, though, and she remembered it was Percy’s bed and that he had slept in the guest room after giving her the most gentle and sensuous bath she had ever experienced.

“Come in,” she called, pulling the sheets up over her breasts despite the fact that he had most certainly seen them before.

Percy opened the door. He was already fully dressed, making Hermione’s eyes flick to the window. It was still dark, the light in the room coming from candelabras that had come on automatically when he opened the door.

Catching her movement, he chuckled. “It’s early. And you can go back to sleep in just a bit. I just need to check you before I go.”

“Check me?” Hermione asked, confused.

“Do you remember how sore you were last night?” he asked.

Merlin, did she ever. Flexing her muscles, she nodded, “I do. I feel much better this morning.”

“Good,” Percy told her, but his eyes were roving over her body. “The cream I put on you last night should have helped immensely, but I need to be certain you don’t need more.”

Hermione smiled up at him as he approached the bed. “You won’t just take my word for it?”

“I need to be sure. You’ll let them take advantage of you and hurt you without telling anyone it’s too much. So I have to check for myself.”

“How—” Hermione started, but Percy began to gently push her back.

“You will lay down,” he commanded, even though he had already made that clear. Hermione shivered at the tone of his voice.

Leaning over her, he brought his lips just above hers, so close they could almost touch. When she tipped her chin up, just brushing his lips as she reached her arms around his neck, one of Percy’s sleek hands came up to rest on her throat, making Hermione’s eyes shoot open wide for an instant. There was hardly any pressure there, just enough to be aware of his hand, but it somehow made her intensely aware of what he could do to her.

Percy removed her hands from around his neck, putting them by her sides. Then he began to slide the sheet down her body, revealing her inch by inch. He didn’t stop until her whole body was uncovered. Hermione knew she should be cold, but under his gaze, she only felt heat.

“I need to inspect you for marks,” he said in that voice that brooked no argument. Hermione didn’t dare disobey as the hand that had been on her throat now moved up to turn her chin this way and that.

“Surely you can see—” She cut herself off at the look he gave her. Hermione stared up at him, watching as Percy moved his face close to her, his breath ghosting her cheek as he inspected every inch of her skin without — quite — touching her. She felt very exposed, even though he wasn’t looking at her body, just scanning slowly down from her neck.

When he came to her breasts, Hermione had to fight the urge to pull the sheet up and cover herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him looking. It was just that this felt clinical and she wanted something else, something more. She wanted a response. She began to move her hands toward him again.

Hermione hadn’t expected him to look directly into her eyes and say, “You will keep your hands where they are. I don’t need your assistance or interference as I scan your body. It is essential for your health that I take the time to do this. Do not make me waste time fighting you.”

Even though the words were somewhat harsh, Hermione felt herself becoming wet as he spoke. “Yes, sir,” she answered.

“Good girl,” he said as his fingers began to skim softly over her breasts. Hermione’s heart rate picked up at the featherlight touches and then more as he gently hefted the weight of her breasts.

She didn’t dare move as he began to scan his eyes across her stomach, his nose barely an inch above her skin. It was intimate but maddening at the same time. She wanted him to touch her.

Though that desire was nothing compared to how much she wanted his touch as his face went lower. Percy backed up just a bit, enough that his hands could slide through the hair on her mound as he kept his eyes on the skin below.

“I need to be sure you’re not bruised anywhere, now that the worst damage is handled,” he explained quietly as he petted her there. It was arousing and soothing at the same time.

As Percy parted her legs and opened her pussy lips with the lightest touch possible, Hermione sucked in a breath, anticipating he would touch her, push his fingers inside her, maybe allow her to ride his fingers if she was a good girl. Instead, he blew lightly on her heated center, sending a shiver straight up her spine and making her hips buck.

“You’re certainly responsive,” he noted. “And you look better. But the real question is if you feel better.”

“I do. I feel so good. Please…”

“Please what?” Percy asked her, his words brushing over her trembling pussy.

“Please touch me, sir,” Hermione begged. She had no shame. His cream had fixed her and now she just wanted him inside her.

“You want my touch?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“Well I can’t very well use my rough fingers on you, can I?” he asked rhetorically.

“Please—” she started, but then his lips caressed her slit, his tongue drawing gently between her folds.

Hermione came up off the bed, her back arching until his hands gently forced her back down, one staying on her pelvis so that she wouldn’t be able to raise up again.

There was almost a trace of amusement in his voice when he said, “You must be still so I can make sure to inspect every bit of you.”

“With your tongue?” she questioned.

His answer was to drag the flat of his tongue along her, making Hermione gasp. Before she knew what was happening, his tongue had hardened into a soft spear and was poking deep into her quim, slowly curving upward and licking back out of her after he pushed in a little deeper each time.

Hermione squirmed, desperate to move up, to meet his gentle thrusts, but his hand held her firmly. Percy wasn’t about to let her have any wiggle room to escape his ministrations. She was losing her mind, but desperately loved the feel of him fucking her so softly with his mouth.

Time became meaningless as he tortured her with his exquisite tongue, lapping and licking and lightly sucking at her so gently she couldn’t stand it. Hermione was begging constantly, desperate to come but unsure if she was allowed.

Then his mouth was humming on her clit and she couldn’t hold it back any longer, screaming as she came so hard she did finally buck her hips up, his hand not enough weight to hold her there any longer.

“Percy,” she moaned as she was coming down from her high with him still happily lapping up her juices.

He looked up at her with a grin, his chin glistening from her juices. “Yes, my girl?”

Hermione shivered, something inside her coiling in increased pleasure when he called her his. “That was… amazing. I had no idea—”

“That you should feel this good every day? Because you should. Every day that you want it, you should be treated to this.”

“And you—“ she began, her hands motioning to his lower half.

“Sometimes. When you feel like it and only when you feel like it, we can enjoy whatever you want to do with us, Hermione. You’re not obligated to pleasure all of us or even a single one of us every day or even every week or month,” Percy said. His tone was firm but patient.

“But you all need me,” she said, not even sure where else that statement was going until Percy began shaking his head. “Well, maybe you don’t, but the twins do. And Charlie won’t say he needs it, but—“

“Connection, little girl. We all need to connect to you. Sex is a quick way to charge up the bond, but just being with you helps.”

“Do you not need me?” Hermione asked. She was curious and maybe a little bit hurt by the idea that he might not.

Percy shook his head at her, moving his body along hers until he was laying next to her on the bed, dragging the sheet up over her abdomen as he went, but leaving her breasts where he could run his fingers along them, still so gently.

“I feel just as strongly about you as Bill and Ginny, I think. But I pride myself on having better control. Ginny is still a child. Bill is so overwhelmed by all of the House mess that he needs all the release and comfort he can get. Sex with you provided both plus a magical boost.”

“But you don’t need that?” She asked, rolling to her side so that she could look him in the eyes. Then she froze, suddenly wondering if she was allowed.

Percy smiled at her. “You’re always mine, but not always my little girl. In times like this, we’re just together like we were for our date last night.”

“We didn’t finish all the conversations we started,” she pointed out.

“No, we didn’t,” he agreed. “Some of them will be sorted at the family meeting, though I would value your opinion on the situation with Kingsley if you’re willing to share it. The rest, well, you’ll just have to have another date night with me.”

She was surprised that his statement ended with a bit of a question in his tone, like he wasn’t sure she would agree to it. “Yes! I would like that very much,” Hermione agreed. “And I… I’m not sure what to say about Kingsley when you seem so uncertain yourself. He’s a good man, but hard to read.”

“That’s what makes him such a good Minister,” Percy said with an almost giddy look on his face. It made Hermione want to giggle because it looked like full blown infatuation. Percy had always had a tendency to get overly invested in his bosses, but this was different. There was none of the pompous idealistic worship going on.

This was something more genuine, deeper and more meaningful. How could she possibly stand in the way of that? “I think you should go for it. He will have to know the truth, but—”

“But if he can deal with it, you really think I should try?” Percy asked, pushing close to her for a long, slow kiss.

“I really do,” Hermione exhaled on a happy sigh.

“It’s going to be hard not to tell him today,” Percy said as he started to slowly move off the bed.

Hermione moved to get up as well, ready to take on the world after that awakening. “I’m sorry you can’t yet.”

“So am I, but our family comes first,” Percy said as he pulled her close, just cuddling her into his firm chest.

She loved the feel of him under her hands, loved remembering how he had taken such good care of her with the luxurious bath the night before, tenderly coating her aching parts with that amazing cream, and then, true to his words, just tucking her in with a book and leaving. Hermione might not be certain about his assertions that she should be more important than everyone else, but she knew she was pleased by the way he treated her, relieved that he was somehow not demanding more from her.

And he was going to advocate for her at the meeting later. Her instinct was to tell him not to, to say that it didn’t matter and she was doing fine. But Hermione was smart enough to know that was a lie. She needed a break sometimes, like last night had been. Like this morning had been, with the intense pleasure being more from the sensual pleasure of his softness than being wrung out of her.

With a final kiss goodbye, Percy left for the Ministry, to spend his day with the man he now had feelings for. And Hermione was glad for him.

Moving quickly now, she got dressed, marveling at how good she felt. Hermione just hoped she still felt so good after a few hours of the craziness that was Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

**********

Fred was in his element now, surrounded by chaos — bright lights and loud bangs as well as the swelling sounds of the crowd. He had known the wizarding world missed them, but the response to their reopening was epic!

It was almost enough to make him forget that he and George had their arses handed to them already this morning. Distraction was key in Fred’s mind, though he knew the topic would come up again. Much as he hated to admit it, Percy’s words were already making him more aware of Hermione and how she might be doing.

She was working a cash register alongside Verity and Lee, each checking out customers of their own while he, George, Ginny, and Ron all worked the floor. Fred wasn’t sure how Ron had managed to get out of Auror training today, but he was grateful for the help.

Suddenly there was a commotion near the door and Fred groaned as he recognized the head of greying red hair there. Mum had arrived and it seemed she had caught Ginny.

“What are you doing here when you’re supposed to be at home?” Mum was demanding of her only daughter.

“I don’t even have a home now,” Ginny threw back, just as heated as Mum.

Merlin, they were going to air the family’s business in front of half of the wizarding population. Fred was trying to make his way over when he was surprised to hear Ron jump in with a calming tone, “Mum, we weren’t expecting you here today. Why don’t we go up to the flat and talk?”

“And make you all miss this fiasco you’ve put together here?” she suggested snidely. This was going to wind up in the papers for sure.

“We’ll leave—”

“George,” Fred suggested, having arrived before his twin who gave him a put-out look through the crowd, “to run things while we talk.”

Through their bond, George was cursing him and arguing for himself instead, but Fred wasn’t relenting. I’ve got this, he assured his twin. Hermione’s concern could be felt along the bond as well, but at least she couldn’t hear their arguments. Thus far, at least, she couldn’t fully talk to them in their heads.

Outwardly, George was projecting a genial facade, laughing, joking, and helping herd their Mum toward the staircase up to the flat, one hand supportively on Ginny’s shoulder as he steered her as well. Ron followed as though he were happy to be going off with Ginny and their Mum. Fred wasn’t sure, but he thought his little brother may have hit Mum in the back with a silencing spell.

Fred wasn’t sure if he was managing to look as collected and happy or not. People were giving him odd looks. But he was doing his best. Their Mum had to stop this.

By the time he got into the flat, both of the women from his family were red in the face from trying to scream at each other, but there was no sound that he could hear. Fred raised an eyebrow at Ron, who was looking back and forth between Ginny and Mum as though he were listening to a tennis match.

Stepping closer, he must have passed into the sound bubble Ron had erected.

“— didn’t raise you to be a slag and whore yourself out—“

“A while ago you were thrilled I had hooked the Chosen One. Now I’m a whore?” Ginny retorted without letting their Mum finish.

“You know better than to go around having sex—“

“It was one time!” Ginny shouted.

“And you got married right after. To someone else! What does your wife think of this?” Mum screamed at her. The way she said “wife” as though it were something dirty made Fred grind his teeth, but he stayed silent, knowing Ginny wouldn’t appreciate him butting in.

“I think it’s just another bizarre thing that happened because of the ritual. The pregnancy, that is,” Hermione stated from behind him. Fred jumped, not having heard her step through the silencing bubble. She continued. “What happened between Ginny and Harry before I married her — or even now — is none of my business.”

“So you’re her spouse, the one supposedly taking care of my underage daughter, and you don’t even care about her,” Mum screeched, looking positively livid — on Ginny’s behalf? Fred was confused what side of this their Mum was on.

“Of course I care about her,” Hermione said, stepping up beside Ginny, her hand slipping into Ginny’s, despite the fact the younger girl’s hand was trembling with rage. “Which is why I don’t mind her making her own choices about who she’s with. She didn’t choose to marry me. She chose to save her brother. They all did.”

“So you don’t care that she’s going to marry Harry as well?” Mum demanded.

Hermione glanced at Ginny who gave a subtle shake of her head. “If that were what she wanted, I would be fine with it. But that is very much Ginny’s decision to make. Like it was Arthur’s decision to marry you instead of joining his brothers’ group marriage.”

“Well Arthur wasn’t pregnant!”

“But you were,” Ron said calmly. “So it was basically the same thing.”

Mum’s mouth opened and closed like a fish for a moment before she narrowed her eyes at Ron and said, “That’s not relevant to this situation. We’re talking about Ginny and what people will think of her!”

“I’m not sure how that’s not relevant,” Fred started, but Hermione put her hand on his arm.

“Molly, we want what’s best for Ginny, for the family. We’re going to do the best we can to avoid anyone thinking less of any of us.”

“But she’s pregnant. If she doesn’t marry Harry, who will be the baby’s father?” Mum demanded.

Hermione blinked at her. “I’m not sure what marriage has to do with genetics—”

“Generics?” Mum asked. Fred had to admit he wasn’t sure what Hermione was talking about either.

Their wife rolled her eyes in frustration. “I’ll be the baby’s father,” she declared. “If people won’t listen any other way, we’ll say magic did it and I, her wife, am the father. The idiots can’t argue with magic.”

“You know they will anyway,” Ron said. Hermione huffed at him.

Before she could lay into him, Fred spoke up. “Mum, Hermione as the father is just one possibility of how to handle it. We, as a family, will decide—” He realized his error too late.

“So I’m not a part of the family any longer?” Mum bellowed, her cheeks brutally red.

“You have made it clear that you do not accept Hermione, so no, I’m afraid we can’t count you any longer,” Fred said. He even managed to sound regretful. He was proud of himself.

“Mum,” Ron cajoled, “It’s normal for kids to grow up and establish families of their own.”

“But you’re all still the Weasley family! I’m just cast out now that your father isn’t here to talk some sense into you,” she said angrily.

“You’re cast out because you won’t admit that any way besides your own is right,” Ginny cried angrily.

“You have no right to talk to me like that, Ginevra,” Mum argued.

“She has more right to talk to you that way than the way you’ve been talking to her,” Hermione said. “If you want to be a part of the family, you have to show the rest of us some respect first.”

Fred saw his Mum’s face go redder and prepared to step in when she attacked Hermione. To his surprise, she instead backed down and said, “Fine. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Someday you’ll understand what it is to have children and how important they are. I won’t lose my children.”

“We’ve told you what to do,” Ginny said, still angry despite Hermione’s hand as an ever-calming presence on her own.

“I didn’t cause you to lose them, Molly. And I sincerely hope you change your behavior so that they do welcome you back into the family. When they do, it will be their choice,” Hermione said calmly, still holding Ginny back.

“Would you like to use the floo?” Fred asked, hoping she took the hint.

His Mum narrowed her eyes at him, but nodded. “Just let me give you some things first,” she said. “I made some meat pies for you all, and fudge, and a treacle tart for Harry. And I haven’t had much time yet, but the first pair of booties for the baby.”

She was fumbling around in the bag she had brought so she missed the way Ginny’s face crumpled from anger to something sad and maybe a little hopeful. By the time Mum raised her head, Ginny had turned and ran for the back bedroom.

Now it was Mum’s turn to look heartbroken. Fred hated that it twisted his heart to see her so upset. He was thankful Ron was there to put an arm around Mum and say, “She’ll come around if you do. The name-calling and disrespect just have to stop.”

“I’m just so worried about all of you!” she wailed as Ron gently herded her toward the floo.

Fred didn’t take the time to watch. He followed Hermione as she went in search of Ginny.

**********

They found her sobbing like a little baby into a pillow in the extra room, the closest thing Ginny now had to a space of her own. She hated letting them see her so weak.

“Is she gone?” Ginny asked.

“Yes,” Fred told her after sticking his head out into the hall to be sure.

Ginny sobbed and hiccuped before saying, “I hate how much I want her comfort.”

It was Hermione who sat down on the bed beside Ginny while Fred just leaned against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, looking like he hadn’t a clue how to comfort her. Which was probably accurate. Ginny didn’t know how to comfort herself.

“It’s natural to want your Mum,” Hermione murmured to her, pulling her close and petting her hair. “I want mine, too.”

Ginny had forgotten what Hermione had to do before she left. Merlin, how do you forget something like that? Ginny was a terrible wife. She started sobbing again at her own inadequacy. “We haven’t even taken the time to find yours and you have to put up with all… all this from ours,” she managed between crying.

Tears sprung to Hermione’s eyes, but she shook her head. “There’s not time yet. And we need to find a way to loosen the bonds first so I can be so far away.”

“Or we could all go on a big vacation to Australia,” Ginny suggested with a tiny laugh through her tears. Though actually, the idea of a vacation, of getting away from all this mess, sounded wonderful to her.

The suggestion was enough to make Hermione laugh through her tears, which had been the point. Fred spoke up, “We will go with you when you’re ready, love.”

“As many of us as you want there,” Ginny added, hoping she might be included in the ones wanted for once. She couldn’t help but feel like, as the youngest and the only girl, she was often being pushed aside.

Of course. She wasn’t the only girl, but Hermione didn’t seem to mind being with Fleur as much. Which Ginny understood — she got her own thrill out of spending time with Fleur and had hopes that she knew she shouldn’t as Bill’s little sister — but sometimes she couldn’t help but feel jealous, too. She just wished she could figure out which of them she was more jealous of in that situation.

Thinking about that made Ginny realize how much, though she appreciated his support, she did not particularly want Fred in the room right now. Of course, she didn’t mean it to sound so bratty when she asked, “Don’t you have a shop to run?”

Fred raised his eyebrows at her, clearly getting ready to retort with his own Weasley temper, but then he looked at Hermione and back to his sister. “If you wanted alone time, all you had to do was say so.”

“Oh!” Hermione said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you didn’t want us—”

Fred laughed boisterously. “Not alone time alone,” he clarified, pausing for dramatic effect. “Alone time with you, Hermione.”

For a moment, Hermione looked perplexed before her eyes popped wide open and she blushed. “Oh!” she cried.

“Yes,” Ginny agreed. “I’m going to make us both Oh.”

Hermione laughed, but it sounded a little nervous. Ginny loved the feeling of power that gave her, that she could make their wife shiver with anticipation. At least, she thought that was what it meant. Hermione would tell her if she didn’t like something, wouldn’t she? Percy’s words from that morning rang in her ears. Hermione had always been a people pleaser.

“Ginny, I’m not sure how much I’m up for today—” Hermione began, and Ginny could feel her blood start to boil despite the warnings Percy had given.

“Why not? You can be with Charlie and Fleur and Bill but you don’t have time for little Gin? Is that it?” She knew she was letting her temper get out of control, but after dealing with Mum without any kind of release valve yet, she was ready for a fight if she couldn’t have something sweeter.

Blushing heavily, Hermione said, “I know it may seem unfair, but—”

“Yeah. It’s very freaking unfair from over here,” Ginny agreed. “Why do I always get pushed off? Where’s my night with you? Because I’m a girl I don’t need to have sex? I don’t need to hold you in my arms at night? You get it for Fleur, why not me?”

“Ginny, it’s not like that at all,” Hermione said, sounding anguished. Ginny didn’t care. If Hermione was going to reject her anyway, Ginny was damn well going to say what needed to be said between them.

“Then what is it like?” she demanded.

Hermione bit her lip, looking upset and regretful that they were having this conversation. “I’m sorry. It’s… we can go ahead—”

“No! I want to know why you don’t want me,” Ginny argued, suddenly feeling like crying.

“I do want you. I can prove it to you if you let me,” Hermione told her.

But Ginny shook her head as the first blasted tear slipped out. “You’re just saying that so I’ll be happy. You always want to make everyone happy. That doesn’t mean you want me and having sex you don’t want with me won’t fix that.”

Groaning in frustration, Hermione said, “It has nothing to do with how I feel about you, specifically, Ginny, but I’m so sorry it feels that way. This is about,” she took a shuddering breath, “it’s about me needing some space for myself and being able to say no when I’ve had too much. I want you. I want all of you. But I’m overwhelmed and I need a break.”

Ginny’s tears grew stronger as Hermione talked and she had no idea why. What she was saying made sense. She felt relieved that Hermione still wanted her.

“What can I do to make this okay?” Hermione asked her, now on her knees in front of Ginny.

“Nothing,” Ginny said. “I mean you don’t have to do anything. I’m fine, really. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Hermione looked at her, perplexed.

Blubbering, Ginny admitted, “I’ve been crying at the drop of a hat. I guess it’s hormones. It’s infuriating — which just makes me cry more and then I’m angry about it and it’s a vicious cycle.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, gathering the younger girl into her arms.

Snuggling into her, Ginny said, “But I really need you, Hermione. As a friend and more. I want a sleepover night, even if we just act like silly teenage girls instead of wives. Please.”

“Of course, Gin. We’ll schedule it during the meeting.”

Ginny’s chin came up. “Not just ‘we’ll schedule it.’ Tonight.”

Hermione bit her lip again. “I think that would be okay, but I’m not sure honestly. I don’t remember who—”

“Me. That’s who. You’re sleeping with me tonight and we’re going to chill out and enjoy ourselves,” Ginny demanded. She could tell it left Hermione feeling uneasy, but dammit she deserved some time, too.

And even though they were just snuggling, Ginny was grateful for this time, too.

************

Ron was practically running for the floo the moment training ended. They had been extra hard on him since he took the morning off. It had been approved, but the trainers didn’t like it. Still, he didn’t even stop for a shower, though he regretted it when he bumped into Susan Bones and saw her wrinkle her nose at him. “Sorry,” he apologized as he continued on, “got an appointment.” She watched him go and he hoped she wasn’t angry with him.

Just before he reached the floo, he heard a voice he didn’t want to deal with anymore today calling his name. Whirling, he addressed Millicent, “What the bloody hell do you want now?”

She clearly hadn’t showered either as she was still covered in sweat. Ron couldn’t help but notice — for the fiftieth time today at least — that her standard issue tank top clung to her rather large breasts and emphasized the toned stomach underneath. He had never realized the woman had grown out of her ugly phase and into someone oddly intriguing.

“I wanted to know why you have to be such a dick to me all the time. I thought we could talk it out over drinks. I’ll buy,” she offered.

“No,” Ron answered gruffly, but when her face fell, he felt guilty. “Not today. I have… family stuff. An appointment and I’m already running late,” he explained.

She looked relieved when she asked, “Another day?”

“Yeah, fine,” Ron grumbled. He was less than thrilled when she beamed at him, but he knew it would be wise to get to know his partner better. “I gotta go,” he added and rushed into the floo.

When he stepped out at Shell Cottage, the place smelled heavenly. Fleur was a very different kind of cook to his Mum, but she was damn good at what she did. Ron followed the cacophony of sound into the kitchen where everyone was crowding around the too-small table to eat. They needed somewhere bigger for these meetings now that The Burrow wasn’t available.

He met Bill’s eyes as he walked in and saw his eldest brother breathe a sigh of relief. He must have been worried Ron wouldn’t show. Not that he would be incredibly missed, he was sure. Of all the siblings, he was the least needed thanks to the bonding. Well, he’d always been the least needed, hadn’t he?

Ron squeezed in next to Harry and Hermione, feeling comfortable there with his best friends. He wasn’t sure how Hermione had been allowed the space to sit next to Harry instead of between two of her spouses, but he was grateful. Hermione reached out and held his hand for a moment. He appreciated how much easier simple physical contact was between them now that they were just friends.

It was Ginny who said, “Ron, you reek. Go take a shower.”

“Did you step through—” one of the twins began.

“A dungbomb?”

“Or a dumpster?”

“Or some dragon dung?”

“Or—”

“I get it,” he growled at them. “I was just trying to get here as fast as I could.”

Fleur very politely said, “Eat, Ronald. But zen ze bathroom eez available eef you can be quick. Beel ‘as plenty of extra clothes that should feet you, too.”

“I’ll be quick,” he told her gratefully. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his own stench was getting to him.

He scarfed down two plates of food in record time, even for himself, then headed for the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he was out and dressed, looking far more dressed up than usual in a button down and khakis, the majority of Bill’s work wardrobe. Apparently his cool band t-shirts and dragonhide pants weren’t for sharing.

“Look at you,” Fleur cooed.

“You could work with Percy,” George said.

“Or Bill, apparently,” Ron replied, preferring to associate himself with the cooler brother.

“We’re just saying you look like a proper Ministry bloke with a stick up your—”

“That’s enough,” Bill said. His voice was quiet but commanding. Fred shut up and everyone turned to pay attention. “Since everyone is finished now, it’s time to talk.”

“What’s on the agenda today, boss?” Fred quipped. Ron could see Bill’s patience dwindling already.

“First on the agenda is the rule that if you keep interrupting me, I’m putting a silencing spell on you,” Bill shot back. He raised his eyebrows as he waited for a retort, but Fred and George both made zipper motions over their mouths. Bill sighed in relief.

“We have a few things to address, all of them important. The first is that we have a meeting scheduled with the goblins in two days.”

“No,” Percy stated, standing up. “First is the issue I addressed this morning but want to emphasize again.”

Ron noticed that all of his siblings were cowering a bit. Fleur, too, though Harry and Hermione looked somewhat bewildered.

Since no one spoke up, Percy continued, “Our wife deserves to be worshiped. Every day, by every one of us, in as many different ways as we can think of.”

Hermione was now blushing profusely and shaking her head to deny the need for this. Percy held up his hand. “I don’t mean sexually, or not just sexually anyway. We need to be giving her the space she needs, bringing her food and little gifts and showing her in our words and actions that she is appreciated for everything that she has given up for us.”

“Percy, please. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but—”

“But you consistently push your own wants and needs to the bottom,” he told her. “We — all of us — have to do better at helping you recognize when you’re pushed to your limits. You deserve better than we’ve been doing.”

Looking into each of the others’ eyes, he continued, “The connection your bond seeks doesn’t require sex, especially not penetrative sex. You need to spend time with Hermione, but anything further, you’re pressing your desires, and playing off of hers, rather than merely meeting needs. That’s fine sometimes, but not every time.”

“Are you going to micromanage when we get to have sex?” Fred asked.

George rolled his eyes at his twin but added, “Do we need to schedule it?” Ron wasn’t entirely sure if he was joking or not.

Percy looked incensed. “If that’s all you got from this entire subject then I need to start over more vehemently.”

“No, no. We’ve got it,” George said. “I was being serious. Do we need to schedule how often each of us—”

“No!” Hermione spoke up, suddenly looking angrier than Percy even. “I get to decide when and with who I’m going to have sex and I get to do it spontaneously. I do… I need to learn how to pay attention to my needs, like Percy said, and I have to speak up about them. I’m trying.”

She looked to Percy, her cheeks flaming and he gave her a serious nod that made her cheeks flame further.

“Besides,” Ron said to take some of the attention off of Hermione, “Do you have any idea how crazy she made herself with schedules third year?”

Harry snorted and added, “Or before OWLs? I can only imagine what NEWTs would have been like.”

Hermione hit them both on the backs of their heads, but she was smiling. “I can get a little extreme trying to follow a schedule. What we have is plenty to work with already.”

Percy nodded. “I do agree that would be too much scheduling,” he said with a small smile to Hermione. Looking around at everyone else with a fierce expression, he added, “If you all feel like you understand how to take care of Hermione in the future, that’s the first bit of business done — for now.”

No one spoke for a long moment before Bill cleared his throat and said, “In two days, we have a meeting scheduled with the goblins.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Fred asked sensibly. Despite their clowning, it appeared the twins were paying attention.

“I will be taking Hermione and Ron,” Bill said.

Ron blinked, trying to understand how he had gotten dragged into this. “Why—”

“I weel be with you,” Fleur said before he could get more of his question out.

Bill shook his head. “No, Fleur. We don’t know what they’re going to say or do—”

“Then why are Hermione and I there?” Ron demanded, feeling suddenly protective of Hermione especially.

“They need to see that I am not pregnant. And I need to tell them the solution to their creature guard problem,” Hermione spoke up.

“I need to be there, too, in that case,” Charlie said. “As the representative of the Reserve and to answer any questions about the dragons.” He clearly didn’t want to argue about it if he was offering up his reasoning before Bill could ask.

“But what about me?” Ron asked again, trying not to let it sound like a whine. Getting his head chopped off by a goblin axe didn’t sound like a good time.

“We want to clear your name, too,” Hermione explained. “The dragons are a big enough gift that they should cover both of our debts. But if you aren’t with us, I doubt they will take it seriously that you want to be included and then you still won’t be able to do any banking.”

Well, he couldn’t argue with that. Ron had already found that to be inconvenient and it would only get more so as he worked. Gringotts had the market in a chokehold when it came to banking. He nodded slowly. “Okay. I can come along. But please tell me it’s after my training hours.”

When Bill confirmed it was right in the middle of the day, Ron groaned. “Robards is going to kill me,” he said. “And Bulstrode will help make me pay.”

“Still giving you trouble?” Harry asked, looking at Ron with pity.

“She will be until we’re done training,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, Ron,” Bill said, “But we have to meet at the time the Goblin King offered us. There’s no arguing with him about it unless you really do want to meet one of their axes.”

“I’ll be there,” Ron confirmed, swallowing hard at the thought.

“Can I come too?” Harry asked. “It’s always been the three of us.”

“I think it’s best if they don’t see you again too soon, Harry. Especially not in conjunction with the break-in. They’ve let you off the hook, but neither forgiven nor forgotten,” Bill cautioned.

Harry got a stubborn look for a moment, then Hermione put her hand on his arm and he stilled. “Okay,” he said absently as he stared at the woman beside him in an adoring way. Ron blinked. That was new. And did Harry just… back down from something because Hermione gave him a cautioning look?

“Perhaps I should come as a representative of the Ministry?” Percy suggested.

Before Bill could respond, George said, “Fred and I should be there as Hermione’s husbands.”

Ginny snorted, “And I should be there for shits and giggles. Let’s just take the whole family.”

Ron noticed that Bill looked like he was getting a headache. He spoke again. “I will go with Charlie, Hermione, and Ron. That’s it.”

Fleur looked mutinous, but it seemed she would save the argument for later. Ginny and the twins all subsided at a look from Bill. Only Percy protested.

“I think the Ministry—”

“Needs to stay out of this,” Bill said firmly. “Kingsley already said he couldn’t and wouldn’t try to intercede with the goblins even for Harry. So you need to stay out of it, Perce.”

Percy looked irritated but submitted to the logic with a quick glance over to Hermione. Ron realized she had nodded to Percy and wondered when all of them had begun deferring to her on things like this. Particularly Percy, given his usual obsessive need to control things.

“What’s next then?” Percy prompted irritably.

Bill took a deep breath before saying, “I believe it is time to make a statement to the public about our family.”

“What about us?” Hermione asked. She had been quieter than Ron had expected, so he was glad to hear her speaking up again. It wasn’t like Hermione to be quiet about her thoughts.

“I believe, and have been counseled that this is the right thing to do, that we should go public with our full relationship,” Bill announced.

There was an immediate swell in the volume of the room as everyone protested or agreed. Charlie and Percy were immediately arguing that it wasn’t fair to Hermione. The twins seemed upset that they would no longer be the public face of the marriage. Ginny was thrilled. Harry was worried for them all. Ron… He sat quietly because he just wasn’t sure. There had to be some strategy behind this, but he wasn’t seeing it. He looked to Bill.

“Who gave this advice?” Ron asked. “I thought we were planning to hide it indefinitely.”

Bill shifted as though he didn’t expect them to like the answer. “Aunt Muriel suggested it first, but it makes a lot of sense, all things considered.”

Everyone was quiet now, staring at him with their mouths hanging open. Ron was the first to manage another question. “Since when do we look to Aunt Muriel for advice?”

“Since she’s older and more experienced at presenting ourselves properly. And since she started teaching me how to be Head of House,” Bill defended.

“What is her reasoning?” Percy asked, straightening his tie as he always had when nervous.

“One scandal will cancel out another, and Ginny’s pregnancy can’t be kept secret forever,” Bill explained. “People will be up in arms about what we’ve done, but then when it comes out that Ginny is pregnant with Harry Potter’s baby, that will be even bigger news, taking the spotlight off our marriage. If Ginny wants to, marrying Harry would make this an even bigger deal.”

Ginny and Harry both gaped at him. “Did you think maybe you should ask us before you told the whole family that’s the plan?” Ginny demanded, looking furious.

“I didn’t say you had to—” Bill started.

“But it’s what you want,” Harry pointed out. He rubbed his hand behind his neck. “It’s what I want, too. Or would be if it weren’t for the magic.” His eyes flicked to Hermione and he looked upset by what he had said.

Looking like she might cry, Ginny said, “But the magic is here and so we can barely stand to touch even as friends. We can’t get married.”

Without thinking, Ron said, “Lots of marriages happen without the two people being interested in each other. Besides, once you said the marriage vows, there would be new magic—”

“We will absolutely not be mixing any more magical bonds around Harry—” Ginny began loudly. Ron had to admit she did have a point.

“Or anyone,” Bill added, cutting her off. “If they were to marry, it would be without the magical binding unless we can figure out how to untangle what we’ve done so far.”

“Which I would like to talk about,” Hermione said, still more quietly than Ron liked.

“You have the floor,” Bill offered, making a sweeping motion with his hand.

Hermione looked around at everyone and said, “I haven’t had as much time for research as I would like, but I think, after we spend some more time with the Family Legacies, that we will be able to create a new ritual to loosen the bonds. I want to be able to travel and not hurt anyone. No one will tell me so, but I know it was painful to some of you while I was in Romania.”

She was looking at Fred and George as she said that. They both looked guilty, their poker faces thoroughly lost with her eyes on them.

“We can help you research,” Charlie offered. Ron was surprised he had volunteered, but then recalled that his dragon tamer brother had been helping research the night they came up with the original ritual. Even though it had worked a little too well, Ron understood that everyone working together had helped make it so successful.

Ginny agreed. “We all can.” Looking determined, she said, “There’s not much anyone will let me do now that I’m preggers, but I can do bloody research.”

Hermione’s smile looked like it was holding back giggles. Ginny hated researching and was therefore abysmal at it.

“I will appreciate any help you all want to give,” Hermione said.

“But,” Percy stepped in, “this brings us to something else. I am appalled by how little consideration we have been giving to Hermione within our supposed schedule. She needs all of us looking out for her, not her trying to meet all our needs at once.”

“How did this subject come from the research conversation?” Ron voiced before he thought better of it. He heard a groan from across the table.

Harry hit him lightly but didn’t say anything. Percy had already started in. “Because among other ways we should be taking care of our wife, we need to give her time alone so that she can work or study or just be by herself for a while.”

“How can we make sure that happens when she’s always offering to be with us?” Ginny answered, her disgruntled tone suggesting this was a very personal issue.

Percy sighed and glared at Hermione, who shrunk down next to Harry. Ron put an arm around her and glared up at Percy though his older brother just shook his head. “We put her alone time on the schedule if it can’t be accomplished any other way. Do you all still have your copies?” Percy inquired.

They did. Even Ron had managed to keep up with it, though his parchment was muchmore tattered than anyone else’s.

“Hermione, what do you already have on your agenda over the next few days?” Percy enquired with his quill poised to make notes.

“Tomorrow I have tea with McGonagall and some muggleborns for the coalition. That’s at 2,” she said. “The next day will of course involve the goblins. I’m not sure after that.”

“Merlin,” Percy swore. “After that, you’re taking two days off of any pressing engagements.”

“But what if—” Hermione began.

Percy looked at her over his glasses. “No, Hermione. You will let me, let us, take care of you and part of that is scheduling days off. You need some downtime without the outside world pressing in on you.”

Hermione started to protest again, but as he looked at her, she blushed and nodded. “Okay,” she mumbled. More loudly, she admitted, “A couple of days would be nice. Though of course I still will spend time with as many of you as I can during those days.”

“And I get the overnight tonight,” Ginny piped up.

“We’re not calling dibs on her time,” Percy started but Hermione was shaking her head.

“I appreciate the thought, but this won’t work if people don’t let me know their needs,” she said.

“But Percy does ‘ave a point,” Fleur said. “You must tell us your needs, too, mon chou.”

“I need time with everyone, but it’s true I need time to myself, too,” Hermione admitted hesitantly.

“So I’ll put Ginny down for tonight—” Percy began but was cut off by Fred.

“That’s not fair! You had her last night. It’s George and I’s turn,” he cried.

Bill shook his head but Ginny was already up before he could say anything. “I have not had one single night of her time! Even if I was in the same house, I’ve always had to share the bed with someone else.”

“Well George and I share,” Fred said, standing as well.

“You’re twins. You share everything, including a soulbond with her that the rest of us don’t get,” Ginny argued.

Ron hadn’t realized how jealous she must be until that moment. He felt like he should say something to diffuse the situation, to calm Ginny down, but there was nothing he could say. She seemed almost hysterical.

It was Harry who stood and went over to her, wrapping an arm around his former girlfriend and whispering something in her ear. Suddenly, Ginny threw herself into Harry’s arms, crying.

Hermione looked anguished. “I wish I could give everyone a night of their own,” she lamented. “But tonight I would like to be with Ginny. I think we need each other the most and I could use some girl time.”

“Anuzzer time, ze two of you weel ‘ave to stay with me. We weel send Beel away and ‘ave a girls’ night. But tonight, I zink you ‘ave need of each other, just the two,” Fleur offered.

“That would be fun,” Ginny said, hiccuping and starting to smile.

George asked, “Can Hermione come have breakfast with us in the morning before the shop opens?”

“That will be so early!” Ginny protested at the same time Hermione said, “I’m right here!”

“You don’t need to come,” Fred harshly answered Ginny.

Ginny opened her mouth to argue but Hermione held up her hand. “No breakfast, but I will bring the two of you lunch before I go to my tea with Professor McGonagall. And I need the two of you tomorrow night.”

“After the goblins, would you be interested in coming to Shell Cottage for the night?” Bill asked her.

She hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. It was Percy who spoke up next. “It seems like mornings are the best time for Hermione to get some peace to herself, if that works for you?” he asked her.

“Mornings are perfect,” she said, beaming at him. “Though sometimes I might invite someone to join me? Especially if I’m researching.”

Several of the others around the table looked relieved. Ron spoke up, “I don’t care when, but Harry and I would like some time, too. Wouldn’t we, Harry?”

“Yes!” Harry agreed enthusiastically.

Hermione smiled fondly at them and Ron felt his heart glow. Bloody magic. At least it was remaining friendly.

“And speaking of Harry, Bill, I think that you need to help him find his Potter Family Legacies. He may need a ritual of his own,” Hermione suggested.

“I can do that,” Bill agreed.

“And eef ‘e does not ‘ave time soon enough, I weel take ‘im,” Fleur offered.

Hermione nodded, looking relieved. “That would be appreciated.”

With a sigh, Bill consulted the parchment in front of him. “I think we just need to decide what exactly to tell the paper now.”

************

George barely caught up with Hermione after the meeting adjourned. Ginny was quite intent on leading her away, though where they were going, he wasn’t sure. Ginny was essentially homeless. Or trapped between the two homes. That was something that should have been brought up at the meeting.

Turning with a hand still on Hermione, he scanned the room. Bill was still there but several of the others were already gone. Damn. George caught Bill’s eye with a wave and was relieved when his brother came to them instead of making him drag Hermione away from Ginny and potentially start a fight.

“What do you need?” Bill asked.

“For the next family meeting, can we add the topic of a place to live? This place isn’t big enough and neither is the flat. Ron, Charlie, and Ginny don’t really have a place to live. Not to mention when the baby comes. Harry has Grimmauld, but it’s in awful shape — and just awful anyway. We need a better housing option.”

“I’m thinking of fixing it up,” Harry said, slipping easily into their conversation.

“Do you think it’s big enough for all of us?” Hermione said excitedly.

Harry’s brow creased. “Maybe, but… it doesn’t feel quite right. I’m not sure I want to raise our son or daughter in that place, no matter how shiny and new I can make it look.”

“Some good contractors—” Bill began.

But Harry shook his head. “I’m not getting contractors. I know it’s a bit mental but I want to do it myself. Just work with my hands and think through some stuff.”

“Harry, that sounds like it could be really good for you,” Hermione said gently. She seemed to understand something Harry wasn’t saying.

Of course, George could guess the kinds of horrors Harry Potter had to go through to be the savior of the world. No wonder he needed some time.

“I hope so,” Harry answered. “And for now, once some of the rooms are done, we can move in anyone who needs a place. Ginny and I had talked about living there even the way it is now.”

“Could I — well, Hermione and I — stay there tonight, Harry?” Ginny asked.

“It’s still awful,” he told her, looking embarrassed by the state of the old place.

“We don’t mind,” Ginny assured him.

“Then it’s fine with me,” Harry granted, making both girls beam at him.

George was glad Hermione was happy, but he missed her. Tomorrow night couldn’t come soon enough. He knew she needed her time. He wanted her to have it. But sharing with anyone beyond Fred was harder than George wanted it to be.

He pulled her close for a moment. “May I have a kiss before you go?” he asked, trying not to sound as needy as he felt. Not that it mattered since she could feel what he was feeling.

“Of course,” she said with only the tiniest hesitation. George knew she was feeling pulled in too many directions, but he still felt a million times better when they melted into each other, the kiss bringing their magical cores back in sync as his lips claimed hers and his tongue took possession of her mouth.

Hermione was breathing hard when he released her. Ginny was not amused. George winked at her. “I’m just getting her ready for you,” he said.

His wife punched him in the shoulder for that. “Violent little thing, aren’t you?” he teased.

“Keep teasing me and you’ll find out,” Hermione replied with a grin. He could feel her relaxing as they bantered back and forth.

By the time she left with Ginny, she was far calmer and George felt better, too. Win/win in his opinion.

*************

Percy straightened his tie again before knocking on the Minister’s door. He really should have gone home by now, but Percy knew the man better than that.

As expected, a scanning spell coursed over his body, identifying him before Kingsley’s booming voice called out, “Come in, Percy.”

Before he could say anything, Kingsley said, “I don’t recall ordering any services, and we didn’t arrange anything romantic, so to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?”

“I’m not sure you’re going to feel that way about it after you hear what I have to say,” Percy said, biting his lip.

Kingsley’s body language immediately shifted. “Is something wrong?”

“No! No, not like…” Percy paused and took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you. About me, about the family.”

“What have you all done now?” Kingsley asked, looking like he wanted to rub his head for the headache that he was about to have.

Percy felt his heart ache for the other man, wishing he could keep from hurting him, though he knew it would only get worse if he waited. “I would have told you before,” Percy told him, “But we all had to agree it was okay, especially because you’re—”

“Because I’m the Minister. So this affects us personally as well as being a headache for the Minister?” Kingsley intuited.

“Yes,” Percy answered. “I-I’m married.”

Kingsley stared at him. He didn’t show any emotion on his face, but he had gone absolutely silent.

Percy tried to push out the next words — that it was all of them, that it was Hermione, that they had been married for two weeks now — but they wouldn’t come. Instead, he babbled, “I wanted to tell you before. I know this is… is a terrible betrayal of trust. I just wasn’t thinking about it at all, about her, and the magic—”

“Your…” his face twisted, “wife didn’t warrant you thinking about her?”

“No,” Percy said honestly. “We— It’s so new and she— I’m not required to be monogamous.”

Disbelief was clear in his voice when Kingsley asked, “So this wife knows about your clients?”

“She does now,” Percy admitted, making it plain that she hadn’t before.

“That must have been a nasty shock for her,” Kingsley said with a humorless laugh.

Percy shook his head. “It was— I could tell it was a shock but she didn’t take it poorly. The nature of it—”

“How long?” Kingsley demanded.

Finding himself involuntarily backing away, Percy made himself stop. “How long what, Kingsley?”

“How long have you been married and not told me?”

“You were my boss… and my client. I didn’t have to tell you,” Percy defended.

“How. Long?” Kingsley enunciated carefully, angrily.

Percy gulped, hating the way the tables had turned in their relationship. “Since the battle. Well, that night,” he admitted.

Kingsley’s face morphed into one of shock. “Hermione?” he gasped.

Merlin, he had put that together quickly. Percy licked his lips. “Yes, Hermione.”

“Then it’s not just you. Or the twins. It’s all you boys, isn’t it?” Kingsley asked. When Percy didn’t immediately answer, he asked again, sounding more frantically upset. “Isn’t it?”

“And Ginny,” Percy admitted.

“All seven of you? That— Magically speaking, that would be powerful in the extreme, and knowing the power levels of each of you…” Kingsley trailed off, his eyes calculating as his sharp mind analyzed the situation.

“Fuck,” the man suddenly swore with feeling. “This is— Percy, the Prophet is going to flambe you all when they find out — and they will, sooner or later.”

“Which is why we’re going to announce it instead,” Percy told him.

Kingsley went still again, staring at him. “Why in Merlin’s name would you do that?”

“Aunt Muriel thinks it’s the best course of action.”

“Muriel Prewett is advising you to court a massive public scandal?” He sounded shocked to his core.

Percy almost laughed as he explained, “We’ve got another scandal to follow it up with and distract everyone.”

“Merlin, I haven’t had enough to drink for this.” Kingsley held up a finger as he made his way over to the cabinet where he kept his firewhiskey and poured them each a glass. Handing Percy one of them, Kingsley emptied his own, poured again, and gave a nod of invitation for Percy to continue.

“This one isn’t my secret and I don’t have permission to share it, but I trust you, Kingsley.” He made sure that when their eyes met, Kingsley understood he was sharing this information with him, not the Minister. “Ginny is pregnant.”

“How—” Kingsley began, emptying his glass and pouring again when Percy cut him off.

“Harry,” Percy said. “Just before the ritual, before the two of them knew we were going to do it.”

“Merlin’s fucking balls. That’ll just about shut up talk of the marriage. Muriel’s a bloody genius,” Kingsley said. Percy suddenly realized the man had just downed three successive glasses of firewhiskey. “So you’re married to Hermione Granger. Along with aaaaaalll your siblings. And you’re just— what? Fucking me and pretending it might go somewhere?”

“No!” Percy said. “I’m not pretending anything. I mean… I don’t want to be pretending. I don’t know— I never meant for this to happen but now that it has… Kingsley, I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m the Minister. You can’t very well lose me. I need you too much.”

“You know that’s not what I meant! I don’t want to lose… us.”

Kingsley paused, staring down into his empty glass. “I don’t know what to say to that,” he finally answered. “You bloody Weasleys have made a mess of things and you, Percy. I let you do a number on me and I usually know better. Bloody magic.”

“Let’s just talk through—”

“We’ve talked enough for tonight,” Kingsley stated. He stood, only swaying a little and backed away from Percy. “You need to go home to your wife and I need to go… I just need to go.”

Percy wasn’t sure why his heart felt so pained. “Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked, not caring that he sounded like he might cry.

“Bloody Minister, remember?” Kingsley said with another humorless laugh. “Everyone will see me tomorrow and I have to have my bloody secretary with me.”

He stumbled slightly over the corner of a rug and Percy was immediately at his side. “Perhaps I should see you home?” Percy suggested.

“No!” Kingsley said. “You’ve done quite enough for me.”

With that, he stumbled to the floo and, before Percy could say anything else, he was gone.

Chapter 29

Notes:

I know it's been a while, but I hope you're as excited for this new chapter as I am!

I'll thank individuals in the end notes, but this is the chapter where we meet some muggleborns. I will say that, while I still adore the idea of using people's names/characters as muggleborns, it was very nerve-wracking to write because I'm terrified those who offered won't like the way I wrote their person. So, please know that I hope you love them and I'm really sorry if you don't!

That said, if I've left out anyone who offered me a name, let me know in the comments. And I'll still need lots more muggleborns throughout the story so if anyone else would like to join the Coalition, give me your name (made up character names are fine) and tell me a little bit about that person so yours can be included, too.

Thank you to LadyWinterlight, bondgirltrb, and Astrangefan for their help this chapter!

Ginny had a hold on her hand as they entered Grimmauld Place. As usual, it was living up to its name, but Hermione noticed that in a few spots, it was less cluttered with nasty old paintings and dust-ridden furniture, as though some things had been moved out. Perhaps Harry was making more progress than he was letting on.

“Is Harry here?” Hermione asked.

“Somewhere,” Ginny answered, “Or he will be. But not where we are.”

“So he’s not invited to girls’ night?” Hermione joked.

Grinning, Ginny shook her head. “Nope. You’re all mine tonight.”

“Good,” Hermione returned, wrapping an arm around the other girl. She was ready for some fun and that was, after all, what Ginny had promised her weeks ago.

She delivered, too. Before Hermione knew it, the two of them were in their pajamas, dancing their hearts out to The Weird Sisters. Hermione couldn’t remember the last time she had an opportunity to let loose like this. Even when they danced at Arthur’s service, it hadn’t been this free. There had been the shadow of their grief.

This time, with just the two of them, it was about being teenage girls and having fun. After they danced wildly for a while, a slower song came on and Ginny took her hand. “I’m not expecting anything tonight. I just want to hold you close.”

So they danced, sweet and slow and safe in each other’s arms. Hermione felt cherished in a different way there with Ginny than she did with any of the girl’s brothers, or even with Fleur. She and Ginny had been friends for such a long time. It was almost as weird as trying to be with Ron or Harry, but… right, somehow. They continued until they were both yawning and close to falling over.

“Don’t think the night is over just because we’re tired!” Ginny said. “That just means it’s time for wine and makeovers!”

“Makeovers? But we’re just going to bed after,” Hermione pointed out.

“We’re not doing them for anyone to see us. We’re doing it for us,” Ginny explained as she wandered to the kitchen for the wine. “Like at any other slumber party.”

“I never had slumber parties,” Hermione admitted. She had never really had girl friends, just Harry and Ron. The thought made her start giggling.

“What?” Ginny asked as she steered Hermione over in front of a desk, conjuring a mirror to set on it along with the wine bottle and their glasses.

“I was just thinking of Harry and Ron’s reactions if I had ever suggested we do makeovers.”

Ginny laughed heartily at that as she poured. “Can you just imagine styling Ron’s hair?”

“Ron’s? At least it will stay in place. Harry’s hair is nearly as wild as mine.”

“Which is why we need nights like tonight to play with it and learn how to fix it into something more manageable. Now sit still,” Ginny commanded.

Hermione winced as Ginny began to tug and untangle bits of her hair. To take her mind off, she took a sip of the wine. “Is there something we’re supposed to do while you work on my hair?”

Ginny huffed a laugh. “Talk, gossip really, but what do we talk about now? You’re with all my brothers and I’m just with you.”

For a moment, Hermione didn’t have an answer, then she smiled. “That doesn’t mean you can’t be interested in others. Remember?”

Laughing, Ginny shook her head. “There hasn’t been time to breathe, much less find someone new to be interested in.”

“How about someone old then?” Hermione asked. “There’s still so much we haven’t talked about from the past year.”

Ginny stiffened, her hands stilling in Hermione’s hair. “Most of it isn’t good, and certainly not for a night like tonight.”

Hermione was aware it had been a hard year, but she hadn’t expected Ginny to want to shut her out of that time. “A night like tonight is for sharing,” Hermione insisted gently. “It doesn’t have to be that, but it always could be if you’re ever ready to talk about it.”

Nodding, Ginny looked contemplative. “I kissed Neville,” she admitted slowly as she went back to doing Hermione’s hair, pulling it up into some kind of complicated twist. “He had almost gotten caught saving me from some Slytherins and we were both just giddy to be alive and well and it just happened.”

“Was it good?” Hermione asked, taking another sip of wine.

“Phenomenal! He’s all rugged confidence now and it came through in his kiss,” Ginny told her. She had a small grin on her face. The memory wasn’t quite untainted, but it was close enough that she could smile about it.

“Do you want to kiss him again?”

She didn’t answer immediately. When she did, Ginny seemed uncertain, a very unusual place for her to be. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. He deserves someone who is focused entirely on him. And that will not ever be me.” Finished with hair, Ginny plopped down in another chair, taking a long sip of her wine.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione immediately apologized. Her heart broke at the thought that she could be keeping Ginny from happiness.

“Don’t be. It was war and, truly, I don’t think we would ever come together under other circumstances. I love and respect Neville, but he’s hoping for a quiet life with the war over. That’s not me.”

“What kind of life are you hoping for?” Hermione asked. She knew about Ginny’s Quidditch obsession, of course, but there was more to life than that. And, well, with the baby things may have changed.

Ginny’s brows drew together as she thought. “Well everyone knows I want to play Quidditch. I want to travel, too, see the world. Past that, I’m not sure.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in traveling,” Hermione commented, though it made sense with Ginny’s adventurous spirit.

“Ever since we visited Bill in Egypt I’ve wondered what the rest of the world holds. I’m not much for reading about it in books. I want to go places and learn about them by doing things,” Ginny explained.

“Travel is a wonderful way to learn,” Hermione agreed, laughing at the somewhat shocked look Ginny gave her. “It is. I love reading but I know it’s not the only way to learn. I always enjoyed it when my parents took me places.”

Wistfully, Ginny answered, “We never got to go anywhere except that one trip. But that just means I have more of the world to explore. Of course Quidditch will take me some places, but I would enjoy seeing the world with you, and with Harry.”

“With Harry?” Hermione questioned. She never would have brought him up on her own but she was dying to know how Ginny was feeling about everything with him.

“Well yeah. As a friend,” Ginny rushed to add. “We may never get to be together, but I still care about him and want him around. Plus, he’s the father of my child. Might as well bring him along.”

Laughing at how casually Ginny approached it, Hermione considered how she would feel. She couldn’t imagine herself taking any of it so calmly — the pregnancy, the loss of the relationship she knew Ginny had thought was meant to be, or the inability to be with Harry properly when they were having a child.

Ginny yawned. “Does that mean it’s time for bed now?” Hermione asked.

“Since I’m done with my glass of wine and can’t have any more, I suppose it can be,” Ginny huffed dramatically. But she was smiling, so Hermione moved to get ready.

Hermione started to pull on pyjamas but, after a moment of hesitation, stripped down to her knickers and crawled into the bed.

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked, trying not to stare and failing.

 

“Getting ready to snuggle you,” Hermione said as she opened the sheets invitingly.

Ginny blinked at her, then looked down at herself. She was already wearing her pyjamas.

“You can keep them on or take them off,” Hermione told her. “Whichever makes you more comfortable.

“I’m not worried about my comfort as much as about not asking you for more than you want to do,” Ginny said, looking a little lost.

“I do just want to cuddle tonight, but I like the idea of touching your skin. And I don’t mind you touching me. Maybe nothing below the waist? Would a boundary help?” Hermione asked. She needed a break, but she wanted them both to feel fulfilled, too.

Smiling, Ginny nodded. “A boundary helps a lot. Because I definitely want to touch you.”

“Touching sounds fun,” Hermione agreed. “And talking.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Ginny asked as she slid into the bed.

“Just like we used to. When we would share your room at the Burrow.”

There was a pause as they both searched for a topic. “You know, I would never have wanted to go back to school this year, but with the baby, it will be for the best,” Ginny mused. “I mean, I still don’t really want to go back to that place, but the timing will work out nicely. Will you be coming with me?”

She had no idea what to say. Hermione wanted to go back to school. Desperately. She just needed to finish it, needed to have one normal year. But the logistics were mind-boggling. She settled on, “I want to, but I’m not sure how…”

“There will have to be some way!” Ginny burst out. “I can’t go be there by myself.” Then she looked guilty, but there were tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t mean to be forceful. I know you deserve to make your own decisions and you can, you will. I just don’t know what I’m going to do there alone. Dad died there. And so many others. And I need you sometimes, to touch you like this.”

Cutting off her cascade of words, Hermione hugged the younger girl close and said, “I truly do want to finish my schooling, Gin. And I want to be there for you, even if we manage to loosen the bond so that we don’t need each other physically the way we do now. We’ll find a way.”

She had no idea what that way would be, but she found herself even more determined than she was before. The men would just have to find a way to survive without her. But the first step was to calm down the bond. Hermione couldn’t wait to do some real research in the morning. But for that, she needed some good rest.

“What can I do to help you feel relaxed?” she asked Ginny.

“Just holding me like this helps. And I like it when you rub my back. Mum used to do that.” Her voice was wistful. Hermione knew the girl missed her doting mother, the one who had existed before Arthur was gone and they had made decisions she wouldn’t stand by. “And… do you sing at all? Like lullabies?”

“Well, my Mum used to sing me one about a shepherdess finding her magical sheep,” Hermione said, blinking back tears at the thought of her Mum.

“And it was a muggle song?” Ginny asked in surprise.

“It was. Muggles love the idea of magic.”

“Would you sing it for me?” Ginny asked, yawning.

So Hermione gently rubbed Ginny’s back and sang until the other girl was asleep, then gave in to the warmth and comfort herself.

**********

The noises coming from down the hall woke Harry and wouldn’t allow him back to sleep. He knew those moans and exactly what it meant when Ginny cried out like that.

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t going to burst into the room and demand they stop or anything crazy like that, but Merlin, Harry was jealous. Grabbing the first clothes he could lay hands on, he scrambled to get dressed and out of the room as quietly as he could.

Out in the hallway, he could hear giggles as well as the rest and it sent a chill down his spine. That was Hermione. And now he was jealous of both of them.

Harry hated how he was feeling about Hermione lately. He hated how he wasn’t feeling about Ginny. Merlin, she was the mother of his child, the start of the family he had always wanted and Harry could barely stand to look at her.

He may have claimed he didn’t mind, but it was a lie. He didn’t want anyone to feel bad about the bonds, and some of it was his own fault, but he didn’t want this. Merlin, hadn’t he done enough, been through enough, that he deserved some happiness? The chance to settle down?

A sound behind him startled Harry enough that he nearly dropped the kettle just as he was about to pour. “What are you doing out here?” he asked Hermione.

She blushed, undoubtedly knowing he had heard them, before saying, “Ginny fell back asleep and I didn’t want to wake her again so soon.”

“Going back for round two later?” he asked, trying not to sound bitter. From the look on his best friend’s face, he had failed.

Hermione paused for a long moment before saying, “Only if I want to, which I don’t think I will. I woke up in the mood to give, but that was enough for one morning.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to blush. He hadn’t really meant to push for information like that. And now she was watching him like a hawk. He tried to think of something to say to throw her off, but nothing occurred to him before she asked, “You're not doing very well with this, are you?”

With a sigh, Harry shook his head. “I want things back the way they were.” He hesitated, then reached out his hand and took hers. “Or at least to be different,” he added.

Blinking at him, Hermione delicately pulled her hand away. “Harry, I don’t think you really want anything with me but our friendship. I think that’s the bonds talking.”

Irritation exploded inside him, but Harry managed to keep his voice level when he said, “But the bonds are real. What they have to say is our reality, Hermione.”

She sighed. “I know that. It’s just… I love you, and it’s not just brotherly right now. I feel the pull, too, but I’m already pulled in so many directions. And I don’t think you are ready to move on from Ginny.”

“I’m not,” he agreed, sighing before taking another sip of tea.

Hermione placed a hand on his arm and Harry tried not to react to the electric sensation of her touch. “I’m going to fix this, Harry.”

“The bonds are ritual magic? And family magic. Are you sure—”

“Harry James Potter. When have I ever not accomplished something I said I was going to do?” Hermione demanded.

He couldn’t hold back a smile. “Never. It’s as good as done.”

Just then, an owl began tapping at the window and Harry felt his stomach clench with nerves. Even though they were somewhat in control of the press release, it was still going to herald a shitshow for the family. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

***************

“I’m telling you, Minister,” the ancient Wizengamot wizard Carmichael Fitz said, shaking his finger at Kingsley, “This war was bad for business.”

“The war was bad for everything,” Kingsley answered calmly, his deep voice soothing. “Is there something you believe we can do to move forward from the problems it caused?”

Another wizard, Bartleby Blotts, spoke before Fitz had gathered his thoughts. “You know what it did to the businesses on Diagon and in other wizarding areas, but people are gone, customers, you understand—”

“The inflation on a galleon is outrageous,” interrupted Tiberius Ogden, “My sales are down and those bloody goblins—”

Percy’s head hurt and he was only taking notes. He could only imagine how Kingsley felt since he was supposed to organize this mess of complaints and come up with a solution. Well, the blame for it would rest with him. Percy was determined to help him figure this out. If Kingsley would let him.

Everyone looked to the window when a parliament of owls tapped noisily on the glass. Percy wanted to groan. This was the worst possible group of wizards to have in the room as they read the news. Still, he did his job, letting them through the window with a wave of his wand. He didn’t look at the paper himself as he placed the Minister’s copy on his desk.

He knew what would be there, and the slight stiffening of Kingsley’s body confirmed it.

“Those bloody goblins are taking advantage…” Ogden continued, taking the paper from his owl, but trailed off as the headline caught his eye. “I say—”

“The Noble House of Weasley Expands On Marriage,” Blotts quoted. “That’s your House, is it not, young Percival?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered politely. It wouldn’t do to antagonize these powerful men by being sarcastic or sharp with them.

Fitz sneered, “What have you lot done now?” He was a pureblood. They all were, but Percy knew that Fitz had donated money to the Death Eater cause. There was no point in answering, so Percy didn’t, watching warily as the Wizengamot members in the room read. He did his best not to wince at the gasps and accusing stares.

“You are married to the same woman as all of your siblings?” Blotts asked him incredulously.

“Yes, sir,” Percy answered. “Magic wished it to be so.”

“Poppycock,” Fitz huffed. “You forcefully turned your Family Legacies to make this happen. What kind of sick fantasies are you—” he cut himself off, shuddering before turning to Kingsley. “This is what we call a Noble House now? It’s disgusting. I don’t wish to be associated with Houses such as this one.”

Kingsley stood. “You wish to renounce your House’s status as Noble?” he asked. His tone was absolutely serious as though he truly believed that was what Fitz meant. The man stared at him with his mouth gaping open.

“We have witnesses enough to perform the ritual breaking your oaths. Percy, could you get me the bowl and athame?”

“Of course, Minister,” Percy responded, shocked to his core that Kingsley seemed ready to do more than just verbally prove his point.

“Come now, Minister,” Blotts said, “You can surely tell that’s not what he meant.”

“Then he probably shouldn’t have said it,” Ogden said, looking gleeful. “It’s not really our business if the Weasley family wants to compound their disgrace, but our own words are what we need to watch if we wish to represent the Houses.” Percy made a mental note to add a line in Ogden’s file that he wanted Fitz gone. Interesting as they were long-term allies.

Despite being uncertain he should allow Kingsley to continue this farce in support of his family, Percy delivered the bowl and athame to the Minister’s desk, wondering if he would actually press this further.

Nervously, Fitz stuttered, “N-now Minister, you don’t want a reputation of siding with the wrong sort of Houses so early in your term if you wish to be re-elected.”

Kingsley loomed over the short, wizened old man. “Make no mistake, I am not here to be re-elected. I am here to clean things up and make progress for our world.”

“Are you saying that this,” Blotts waved the Prophet in the air, “is progress?”

Percy watched as Kingsley turned the words over and formulated his response. Merlin, he loved the man’s brilliant mind.

“I am saying that I will not allow Wizengamot councilmen to threaten and bluff their way into getting what they want. If you say to me that you will not be among the Noble Houses as they are — including the new ones — then you are saying you wish to step down. I am not invested in any specific House remaining Noble. There are lots of empty Wizengamot seats, but lots of worthy witches and wizards who could fill them, who will fill them. Are you ready to break your oaths, Carmichael Fitz?”

“I— I’d rather not.”

“So you will stand next to the Noble House of Weasley and acknowledge them as your equals?” Kingsley intoned.

“Y-yes, Minister,” Fitz said, cowering a bit.

“I think it’s time we leave here,” Blotts suggested. With that, he and Fitz both gathered themselves and scurried from the room.

Ogden made to leave as well, but paused at the door, turning to Percy and Kingsley, his sharp eyes taking in both of them. To Percy, he said, “I don’t know what your family’s game here is, but I look forward to finding out. This should shake things up, make no mistake.” He cackled as he left the office.

Kingsley sank back into his seat, letting out a long breath as he did. Percy hovered, unsure of what he should say or do.

For lack of anything better, Percy muttered, “I’ll put these away,” and picked up the bowl and athame from the desk.

“Wait,” Kingsley commanded.

Mid-step, Percy turned back to face the other man. “You need it, sir?”

Kingsley fidgeted for a moment with something in his hand. “Be my Master,” he finally said. “Under oath.”

Percy stared at him, unable to think of a single thing to say in response.

“Last night, you said you didn’t want to lose us.”

“That’s right,” Percy agreed. “But why would I put you under contract—”

“Not a contract,” Kingsley disagreed. “I want an oath between us.”

“Between us, but you wish to call me ‘Master’?” Percy asked, his brain fighting between switching into its Dominant mode and trying to think this through as a regular person — as a Weasley and as the Minister’s assistant.

“Yes,” Kingsley affirmed, tugging at his robes uncomfortably. He did not elaborate.

“What kind of oath would we make?” Percy asked, finding it hard to breathe through the tension between them.

“You’ve already married, so I can’t look forward to that possibility. But I can belong to you. I would want an oath that you will be there for me, take care of me—”

“A contract would—”

“I don’t just want a bloody contract. They come to an end. If we’re going to do this, I don’t want an end,” Kingsley asserted.

“What if you change your mind?” Percy asked.

“I won’t. I know my mind.”

Percy shook his head slightly as he thought about the implications. “An oath wouldn’t encompass all the negotiations of a contract.”

“I trust you to take care of me,” Kingsley told him.

“What happened to not wanting to be submissive outside of the bedroom?”

Kingsley smiled, though it didn’t make it to his eyes. “That is the other reason we need an oath rather than a contract. I cannot and will not submit to you just anywhere. And I will take care of you, too, Percy. You and yours, as I just did and will again.”

“That is a blatant misuse of your office,” Percy pointed out.

Shrugging, he said, “Then I’ll lose the next election and, as a regular Auror, will be more free to pursue our relationship as we wish.”

Percy felt a thrill shoot down his spine at that possibility. He would miss spending their days together, but being able to have a relationship without hiding it was appealing. “What made you think of an oath?” he asked.

Kingsley continued to play with whatever he had in his hands. “Seeing the bowl and athame.”

“You didn’t plan this?” Percy asked in surprise.

“No, but I mean it,” he said, clearly trying to head off what Percy was about to say.

“We cannot oath to one another on a spur of the moment decision, Kingsley.”

“We can. The question is whether or not you will,” he responded, looking down.

Percy couldn’t stand it. He moved forward, dropping to his knees in front of Kingsley. The man before him looked immediately distressed. “I want to, but I don’t think we should do it right now,” Percy emphasized, taking Kingsley’s hands in his own. It was then that a ring fell to the ground.

“What—” Percy began.

“A gift, from the House of Shacklebolt. I meant to give it to you today, planned it last night, if you will take it.”

Percy lifted the ring from the floor. It was clearly meant to be a bridal piece, but more masculine than most. The band was thick with three dark amethysts across it in a pattern that looked like the moon and two twinkling stars. The Shacklebolt family crest.

“I don’t know if you will give me something to mark me as your own,” Kingsley said quietly, “and perhaps it’s best if you don’t for now, but I want you to have a token of me.”

“Even without an oath?” Percy asked.

“That was my original intent,” Kingsley confirmed.

“And now?”

Kingsley fidgeted. “Yes, even now. Even if you won’t take an oath with me.”

“It’s not that I won’t,” Percy answered. “It’s that I want us to think about this. I want you to be sure.”

“And you need to ask Miss Penny what to do?” Kingsley asked knowingly.

Percy blushed, then blushed harder when Kingsley laughed. He clearly felt more himself again, but he frowned after a moment and rose, pulling Percy to his feet. “You don’t belong down there.”

When the two of them were standing, facing one another, Kingsley pressed closer, bringing his mouth up in a plea for a kiss. Percy leaned down to bring them together, their lips brushing first before they began to kiss in earnest.

Thank Merlin there was a sound in the hallway before the door burst open, giving Percy time to jump away. He scooped the bowl and athame up off the desk and went to put them away as the next senseless “crisis” unfolded.

*********

Fred whistled as he made his way over to Grimmauld Place with lunch in hand. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Hermione had said she would be bringing them lunch at the shop, but he knew the girl better than that. She was in a library, after all.

But he and George had felt her growing hunger, so they had decided to take matters into their own hands. They flipped a galleon for who would go to her. Fred knew it was just as much a toss-up whether he would be able to drag her back to the shop or not, so he was fully prepared for a hurried picnic followed by more research.

He was determined to stay and help her for a while, at least long enough to keep her from forgetting about tea time. Fred knew it was too important for her to miss.

Of course, he had forgotten that Charlie would be with her already, helping with the research. Thank Merlin he had packed plenty of extra food. Fred was pleased to see that their heads were buried in the Legacies, quills flying as they scratched out notes.

“Are you two ready for lunch?” he asked.

Hermione screamed, and Charlie jumped a little. Pushing his reading glasses back up his nose, he grinned at Fred as Hermione turned around to yell at him. “What are you doing!? I’m supposed to bring lunch to you.”

“An hour ago, love,” Fred said gently. “You’re hungry. It’s time to stop and eat, then you can go back to it and I’ll stop you when it’s time for tea.”

Hermione blinked. “Oh dear! I had forgotten all about tea.”

“I hadn’t,” Charlie said. “I would have made sure you got there.”

“But you forgot about lunch? You?” Fred jabbed.

Charlie took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “It is a bit out of character. Thank you for coming, Fred.”

“Yes, thank you,” Hermione said. “What do you have?” She looked eager now that he had pulled her away from her thoughts for the moment.

“Let me get everything out and you can start telling me what you found this morning,” he said. As he began to unpack the food he had brought — soups and sandwiches from the Leaky — Hermione and Charlie began to talk.

“I think we have the basic information we need,” she started. “Charlie found some interesting passages in the Weasley Legacies.”

“I did. It seems this has happened before, the bonds being too tight. They successfully loosened them with a very simple ritual, but they didn’t include it.”

“Naturally,” Fred snorted.

“But they mentioned some aspects of it,” Hermione noted. “That it had to be done on the night of the new moon, and that it involved a potion.”

“We can deduce quite a bit from the potions ingredients they mention, though it would be helpful to have the opinion of a Potions Master to come up with the rest,” Charlie noted.

“What are the ingredients?” Fred asked.

“Dragonfly thoraxes,” Hermione ticked off on her finger, “as a stamina boost I think, like they are used in girding potion.”

“Then powdered griffin claws for strength — we may need extras of those since the bond is so big,” Charlie put in.

“And pufferfish eyes and dried nettle,” Hermione continued to count.

“Both used in Swelling Solution,” Fred said excitedly. “That makes sense as we’re trying to loosen the bonds.”

“That was all they mentioned, but a reference in the Prewett Legacies makes me think we should add Niffler’s Fancy for finding the best in us to continue the bond. And perhaps something to represent the bond itself. Snakeweed?”

Fred shook his head. “Nothing snaky. Maybe Ivy? Something that winds. Would that go in the potion or around the ritual circle?”

“Perhaps some of each?” Hermione mused as she took her first bite of a sandwich. She looked ecstatic at the taste. Fred loved how simple foods excited their girl so much — when they weren’t too much. He would need to watch and make sure she didn’t overdo it. Hermione’s stomach was still recovering from the months of starvation.

Charlie was ladling soup into a bowl as he suggested, “I think adding Essence of Ivy might be too binding. Perhaps it would be better to just have it on the altar.”

“That’s a good point,” Hermione said. She sighed. “I never thought I would say this, but I wish Professor Snape were around to consult.”

“Are you sure he’s not?” Fred asked.

Hermione’s face paled. Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “I watched him die.”

“Merlin, I’m sorry, Hermione! That’s not what I meant.” He’d botched that one up for sure. “I mean that he was a Hogwarts Headmaster for a year. There will be a portrait of him in the Headmistress’s office.”

She looked too stricken to speak, but Charlie put a hand on her shoulder to pull Hermione back against his chest. She gladly followed his movement even as he began to speak in a tone that barely concealed his excitement. “If we can get Snape to help, we’ll have the potion part figured out in no time.”

“And if he won’t, Fleur’s a dab hand at potions and, well, Georgie and I aren’t bad with them either.”

Biting her lip, Hermione said, “I know you’re very good with them, and I’m sure Fleur is, too, but I would feel better about a Master looking over our work.”

“I think she’s saying she wants you to get a Mastery,” Charlie told him with a grin.

“It’s actually something we’ve talked about. Me in potions and George for Charms. We would just have to take our NEWTs. Or convince someone we’re geniuses without them,” Fred said seriously.

“That would be amazing for both of you,” Hermione enthused. Fred knew she was thinking happily of them getting their NEWTs and Masteries, but he hadn’t been kidding about trying to convince the Masters they didn’t need their NEWTs. He just didn’t want anyone to think they were playing when they were very much serious. It was something to think on.

“Always knew the two of you were as brilliant as the rest of us,” Charlie said with a grin.

“Look, the big dragon handling lug speaks,” Fred teased back before becoming serious again. “Was that all you found today?”

“Oh no, there was plenty more,” Hermione said after she swallowed her soup. “The Prewett Legacies made me think at first that there was no way to loosen anything. We are soulbonded, after all. But most soulbonds don’t require us to be together all the time. Nor do soulbonds always feel each other the way we do. That’s a more unique feature of this particular bond, and I think it’s because of the larger bond.”

“Or the twin bond we had before,” Fred suggested. “George and I have always been able to feel everything from each other, after all.”

“Well, the Prewett Legacies talk about that. It is a more common occurrence amongst twins from your family. But only once before have a set of twins bonded so closely soulbonded with someone else. In that case, the witch couldn’t feel them the way they felt each other. I’ll let you read the passage.”

She was up and fetching the book before he could protest that she should eat some more first. Laughing to himself, Fred took the book from her and dutifully read. It was absolutely fascinating how similar the Prewett twins down through the ages had been to himself and George.

“None of the others bonded under quite such dire circumstances,” Hermione pointed out, “So their bondings weren’t so intense.”

“Do you think that whatever ritual we do with the group as a whole will loosen our bonds as well?” Fred asked.

Hermione exchanged a look with Charlie. “We’ve been debating that. Unfortunately, I think we’ll just have to wait and see. Though, of course, I will talk this over with Bill and perhaps some others. I wish that Hogwarts had a Professor who covered rituals and the general use of Family Magic. It’s important and should be taught, even to those who don’t have ancient Family Legacies at their fingertips.”

Fred hid the smile he felt over listening to her rant. He agreed, of course, now that he saw what ritual magic could do, but he also understood why the people in control had never wanted the general populace to know such magic. Not that Hermione didn’t also understand that. He knew she did. But she would likely add this to the list of things to fight for educationally. He wondered how Professor McGonagall would react to that.

Thinking of the Professor, Fred checked the time. “I’m not sure we’re going to have much research time left before you head to tea.”

Checking her Muggle watch, Hermione sighed. “You’re right. I should freshen up a bit before we go. I’ll come back to this tomorrow.” Fred loved how delighted she looked that she would have more time to research.

“If you’re taking a shower, I can wash your back,” Charlie offered, smiling at her.

“Or me!” Fred added, not wanting to be left behind on that possibility. “I can help you wash everywhere.”

Hermione laughed. “I think I’ll manage, but I appreciate both of your offers. We do want to make it to tea on time, though.” With that, she gathered her things neatly before heading out of the room.

Charlie began helping Fred gather the food items and put them away. The brothers were both quiet. Fred was contemplating the possibilities of the potion for the ritual when Charlie asked, “What do you think would happen if there is another soulbond at play?”

“What?” Fred responded.

“I think… I hope… Well, you know I’ve had the soul mark for years. The dragon on my back. It’s still black, but I think that makes sense. I think it will be until September.”

“Why September?” Fred asked, but then he knew. His stomach sank at the implication. “You think Hermione is your soulmate, that she was always meant to be with you,” he said flatly.

Pressing his lips together, Charlie nodded. “I do. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“No,” Fred said, feeling defensive. Hermione was his soulbonded, his and George’s. “You could have just gotten pulled tighter by the bond because… I don’t know. There’s a lot we don’t know about it, but there’s no reason why you have to be her bloody soulmate.”

Charlie was quiet for a moment. “I guess we’ll see in September.”

“We’ll see that she’s not,” Fred answered. He knew he was being childish, but he hated the idea of sharing her soul with another of his brothers. And it was ludicrous anyway. Why Hermione of all people?

He ignored the little voice in his head pointing out how alike Hermione and Charlie were. How they both loved and advocated so much for creatures. How they were both so compassionate to everyone. No. Hermione was already shared enough.

No comment was made as Charlie finished putting everything back in Fred’s bag, but the look of disappointment in his eyes hit Fred hard.

********

Hermione stepped through the floo into the Headmistress’s office and was impressed by how much it had changed in a matter of a few days. The books that had been piles before now neatly lined the shelves. Professor Dumbledore had filled the room with all manner of oddities. Professor McGonagall had allowed some of them to stay, but they were no longer taking up space willy-nilly around the room.

“Mrs. Weasley,” the Headmistress said sharply and Hermione’s stomach sank as she noticed that her Headmistress was sitting behind her desk with the Prophet in front of her. The picture they had submitted of herself with the seven Weasley siblings from Arthur’s funeral was staring up at her.

“Professor McGonagall,” she greeted back, trying to decide how to best explain herself.

The Headmistress tutted. “Minerva. I’ve already told you to call me Minerva and even this,” she waved the paper in the air, “doesn’t change that. Though I cannot express how irritated I am to have learned of it from this rag. I would assume the whole thing was made up, but Belinda Bagshot has always been an honest one, or as honest as reporters get anyway.”

“Bill knew her from school and trusted her to do the press release,” Hermione explained.

“What in Merlin’s name made the boy think it was a good idea to admit to this to the general public?”

“It’s Aunt Muriel’s plan. There’s… there’s a larger scandal but—”

“Larger than this?”

“Yes, but it’s not my secret to tell.”

Professor McGonagall bristled at that, but she didn’t have time to question it because the floo suddenly turned green and spit someone out onto the floor. She was a small woman, short and pixie-like with long, dark hair. “Are you quite alright, Miss Mi—”

“Just call me Ehlara,” the woman urged before Professor McGonagall could even get her full name out. She picked herself up off the floor with a smile. “And don't worry. Flooing always trips me up. I’m used to it.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Hermione said politely, unsure what else to say to that. Even Harry, who was terrible at flooing, didn’t land on the floor each time.

“Miss Mills is one of the muggleborns who is interested in your Coalition.”

“I don’t know how useful I’ll be,” she said, “I had to quit my job to go on the run so I don’t have any money to contribute or anything, but I want to be a part of this however I can help.”

“Money isn’t the only thing we’ll need,” Hermione assured her. She was about to ask Ehlara what she had done before going on the run but the floo sprang to life again.

A middle-aged couple stepped out. Or at least they were clinging to one another. The man was tall and portly with a kind smile under blond hair. The woman had a brown bob. She was only a few inches shorter than her partner. She was too busy brushing off soot to smile. They were both dressed nicely, but appropriate for a day of work.

Professor McGonagall looked at them as though she were trying to place them. “Marvin Taylor?” she asked.

“Yes,” the man said with a small laugh. “I know I’ve put on a bit around the middle since my Hogwarts days, but I assure you that’s just more of me to love.” He had the audacity to wink at the Headmistress who gave him a look over her glasses. Hermione still noticed when her mouth twitched.

“And I’m Sandra Williams,” the woman said, making up for her earlier lack of a smile by beaming at them. “I left the wizarding world as soon as I finished Hogwarts to go to University, but this Coalition of yours sounds like it might make this world worth at least visiting. I miss magic. And Lord knows wizards need therapists so much more than they know.”

“You’re a therapist?” Hermione said, brightening. She knew a number of people who could use a therapist who knew of the magical world. Based on the way Professor McGonagall was smiling at them, she had thought of that aspect to inviting Sandra as well.

“I am,” she agreed. Without waiting for more questions, she pulled a business card from her purse. “Please feel free to give my information to anyone who needs it.”

“Just don’t expect magically instant fixes,” Marvin warned solemnly.

Hermione smiled tightly. “I know how therapy works.”

“Sorry. It’s easy to forget we’re all muggleborns here. I’m so used to everyone in the wizarding world being ignorant of all things muggle. I work in advertising, muggle and magical both, before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, that is. Sandy here is just thinking of crossing the line now that it’s safe again.”

“Would you all like to head to the table—” Professor McGonagall began, gesturing toward the table where Hermione had previously had tea with all the professors, when the floo went off again.

“Mary!” Rushing forward, Hermione caught the older woman in a hug.

Mary Cattermole smiled and looked around before saying, “I should have known when you invited me to tea to discuss this that it would become something bigger. Is this all?”

Hermione looked to Professor McGonagall. “Well, Ben Copper has taken ill for the moment, so we’re just waiting on two more: Emery Steffen and an assistant of Vivienne Westwood.”

“Vivienne Westwood?” Sandra squealed. “Don’t tell me she’s a muggleborn!?”

“She is!” said a new voice coming from the floo. “And most of her employees are muggleborns, too.” Out stepped a very young woman with flaming red hair.

She was wearing an outfit like nothing Hermione had ever seen before. It looked like someone had tailored a ship’s sail into a corset and added blue flowers. It was… surprisingly lovely. “Do you like it?” the girl asked.

Hermione nodded. Before she could comment, though, the girl was off again. “It’s from Viv’s ‘Tied To The Mast’ collection this spring. I’m sure you’ve heard of it? I’m Adalyn, by the way, Adalyn Craig. I was a Gryffindor just like you. I’m not so sure about what’s going on here, but Vivienne wants to stay informed, so here I am.” Adalyn barely took a breath before launching into more, “I always knew I wanted to work in the fashion industry but I picked working in the muggle world instead of magical because muggles are just so much more inventive. It was such a surprise when Vivienne asked me in the interview if ‘Gryffindor’ meant anything to me—”

Adalyn’s story was cut off by the floo one more time. The woman who climbed out of the floo had a look of sharp intelligence. In her arms were several notepads and a couple of books. Hermione had a feeling as their eyes met that this was someone she was going to connect with deeply.

“Emery Steffen,” the woman introduced herself before Professor McGonagall had the chance to. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be for this project, but I work for a Muggle not-for-profit organization having to do with housing. I hope some of the basics will apply here.”

“Oh, I hope so, too!” Hermione agreed. “I’m Hermione Weasley.” She hadn’t really had time to introduce herself to most of them, so she aimed that last bit around the room. There were nods. It seemed everyone had known who she was.

“Perhaps you could all take a seat and I’ll have tea brought in,” Professor McGonagall suggested, making a shooing motion toward the table.

“Thank you, Profes— Minerva,” Hermione managed, only forgetting for a moment since the woman reminded her with narrowed eyes. It oddly helped Hermione settle her nerves.

She had this idea, and she knew it was a good one. A Muggleborn Coalition should have existed years ago. But presenting the idea to people. Well, it was a bit like Dumbledore’s Army, except these were strangers and she had no idea if they would see the value in the things she was proposing or not.

“Thank you all for coming,” she began. “I’m not sure if it will interest you all, but I appreciate you being open-minded about it.”

“I can see you’re going to need advertising expertise,” Marvin commented, then squeaked a quiet ouch before glancing over at his girlfriend. Sandra was giving him a dirty look. “Well she does. And it’s why I’m here. I’m going to help sell this.”

Hermione laughed despite herself. “You don’t even know what it all is yet.”

“Which is why you should tell us,” Adalyn said, sounding bored.

Emery leaned forward. “We’re here because we want to know more. You don’t have to be afraid we’re going to run off so quickly.”

Finding the reassurance helpful, Hermione launched into her points. “The Muggleborn Coalition I have in mind will have at least three primary goals: First, someone from the Coalition will go with the Professors when they make the first contact with muggleborns.”

“Which should happen much earlier,” Adalyn said, not sounding so bored anymore.

“I agree,” Hermione said, “but implementing that will take changing the laws.”

“So we add that as a long term goal?” Emery questioned, flourishing a ballpoint pen and beginning a list.

“Absolutely,” Hermione agreed, pleased when everyone there nodded. “Then the Coalition will take a hand in guiding the Muggle Studies curriculum, the new Wizarding Culture course, and possibly even play a role in finding and approving teachers.”

Professor McGonagall made a sound behind Hermione, making her turn. “I know you’re doing what you can, Minerva, but it is vital to Wizarding Society that we all do better. The Coalition can help.”

“We can; we will,” Mary said, looking more confident than Hermione had ever seen her before. “Is there a Muggle Studies teacher lined up for this school year?”

Hermione looked to the Headmistress, who seemed exhausted. “No, there is not. Everyone I’ve reached out to has rejected—”

“How do I apply?” Mary asked.

Professor McGonagall looked stunned. “You wish to apply?”

“I do,” she responded, excitement growing as she spoke. “It’s been some time since I taught and I would need to familiarize myself with recent developments in the Muggle world, but… before Reggie and I married, I was a teacher in the Muggle world for almost five years. I loved it. And I’ve enjoyed homeschooling our own children, but I would love to work in a classroom again.”

“Are you sure there isn’t some other subject you would like to focus on? We have a number of open positions—”

Mary gave her a withering look. “Nothing is as important as Muggle Studies being taught properly.”

“Nothing except maybe that Wizard Culture class Hermione mentioned,” Ehlara said. “That would have been life changing as a first year. It might still be now.”

Thrilled they had come back around to the points she was making, Hermione picked up the lead she had been given. “Which is why we’ll be offering these courses to adults as well, though it will have to be at their own discretion. As for who will teach it, I believe there is a solution to be found among some of the pureblood elite. I can’t say much more about that yet as it ties in with trial proceedings.”

Professor McGonagall stepped up, directing tea and biscuits onto the table. As she did, she said, “The problem with that is that the Board of Governors would have to approve anyone who might be a teacher. Now and at any point in the future.”

“I think you will find that these particular issues will be addressed by a special committee within the Wizengamot,” Hermione informed them all.

“The Wizengamot is worse than the Board of Governors,” Professor McGonagall said with exasperation.

“The committee will be run by either the House of Potter or the House of Weasley. There are also several open positions on the Board of Governors that Minister Shacklebolt will be filling,” Hermione explained, adding the last just to sweeten the deal.

Professor McGonagall gaped at her. “Why have I not been told any of this?” she demanded.

Biting her lip, Hermione said, “I’m not sure. I thought Kings— the Minister would have filled you in on some of it by now.”

“It doesn’t matter as long as he follows through!” Ehlara said excitedly. The others nodded and cheered.

As much as she agreed with them, Hermione held her hand up for their attention. “There is one more primary goal for the Coalition from the beginning.” This was what she was most nervous about — not just with her new friends but from Professor McGonagall.

Everyone refocused on her. Taking a deep breath, Hermione said, “We’re going to gain five Wizengamot seats, to be filled by muggleborns chosen by the Muggleborn Coalition.”

There was dead silence and then an uproar.

“Yes! It’s more than time for representation!” Ehlara shouted.

“Hermione!” Professor McGonagall gasped. “You can’t promise something like that!”

Adalyn looked considerably more interested as she exclaimed, “Vivienne might come back to the wizarding world if this happens!”

“With real representation, I would definitely be willing to get involved in helping witches and wizards again,” Sandra said, though she was mostly talking to Marvin.

In reply, he told her, “I knew this had potential!”

Above the din, Emery asked, “How would it work?”

“Well, a lot of the details would be worked out by the members of the Coalition. I was thinking of voting the people into position, possibly for a term. I know I wouldn’t personally want one person to stay in each seat for the rest of their lives.”

Emery was scribbling furiously on her notes page, but it was Mary who asked, “But how would we ever get the seats approved in the first place? The Wizengamot won’t allow it.”

Hermione smiled. “The minister of Magic has already agreed to it. He is expecting the Muggleborn Coalition to provide five new Members in about a week.”

There was a stunned silence again.

“How?” Marvin marveled.

“Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and I included this in a deal made with the Minister. He will see it done.”

“How are there enough seats to hand out?” Emery asked.

Shaking her head, Hermione said, “The Wizengamot has traditionally been filled by the oldest wizarding families. Unfortunately — or fortunately for us — many families have died out during the wars. Many more are Death Eaters and no longer eligible to hold their seats. Unless they have someone out in the world to take it, those families will lose their seats as well.”

“I wondered how Minister Shacklebolt was able to declare so many Houses Noble, but it makes sense when you put it like that,” Mary said.

“This changes things for so many people,” Adalyn stated. “And it’s more than time for it!”

“Changing things for muggleborns and other non-represented groups is part of my larger plan, but it starts here with the Coalition,” Hermione said.

“Well I’m sold,” Marvin told her. “And now I’ll help you sell it to everyone else. I’ll need to do a marketing analysis, though I think we can assume it will be an easier sell to muggleborns than to the wizarding public.”

“We need to stop thinking of ourselves as separate from the wizarding public,” Sandra chided softly. “How we speak about ourselves is important. We are a specific group, but still a part of the whole. Muggleborns deserve to be acknowledged.”

“And the Coalition is going to make that happen!” Ehlara said.

“I’m just concerned about one thing,” Emery noted.

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, wondering what she had forgotten.

“How are we going to come up with five people for the Wizengamot in only a week?”

As the witches and wizard leaned in together and began to formulate a plan, Professor McGonagall came up to Hermione. “Do you think you can see everyone out on your own?”

Blinking, she looked quizzically at the Headmistress. “Of course, Minerva, but—”

“I need to have a long conversation with the Minister,” the Professor explained with a vicious look in her eyes. Hermione was glad it wasn’t aimed at her. “Just be the last one to leave. I keyed the office not to let anyone enter after your magical signature leaves.”

She started to tell Professor McGonagall how honored she was by the trust she was giving her, but the older woman was already gone. Instead, Hermione turned her focus back to the newborn Coalition. They were few at the moment, but she had a feeling they would be mighty in the name of muggleborns and the people of the wizarding world in general.

An hour later, they had a firm plan, an advertising campaign to put in place, and more muggleborns to contact. Hermione was exhausted as she wished everyone well and saw them to the floo. House elves were already cleaning up the table behind her.

When she was the only person left, Hermione looked around to be sure everything was in place. The House Elves had left, leaving the place pristine as Professor McGonagall no doubt always preferred it.

As she was about to floo back to the twins’ flat, movement caught her eye in one of the portraits — a very familiar face. “Professor Snape!” she exclaimed.

The painting scowled at her, no more pleasant than its likeness had ever been. “To what do I owe the… pleasure of your notice Miss Granger?” He said it as though he were talking to dirt.

“Mrs. Weasley, actually. I’m surprised the portraits don’t know that.”

“Oh, I’ve heard the gossip, but I didn’t believe it. You’re far too frigid to have found one man, much less six and a woman. Of course, perhaps you entrapped them from the sound of how it happened.”

Hermione felt her blood boil, but she wasn’t going to let a portrait know it was getting to her. “No, but we are all trapped a bit more closely together than we would like. We’re going to be doing a ritual to loosen the bonds so that we can travel and such, but there is a potion involved—”

“So you wish to use me. No wonder you were excited to see me,” Snape sneered.

“I thought you might be bored hanging on a wall and want to put your knowledge to the test,” Hermione baited. “But we can ask Slughorn instead.”

Snape growled now. “Bring Fred Weasley here to explain what potion you need and I will consider whether it is worth my time.”

“Fred?” Hermione asked in surprise. She knew Fred had said he was considering applying for a Mastery, but she had thought he was exaggerating things.

“He’s the least dunderheaded of the lot of you Weasleys.”

Hermione bristled at that, but decided now wasn’t the moment to argue. “I will bring him,” she answered instead and turned to the floo and the waiting twins.

Notes:

Whoops! Forgot to add this!

Thank you to Ehlara for allowing me the use of Ehlara.
Thank you to FremioneForever for the use of Adalyn and her Gryffindor spirit.
Thank you to Lady Winterlight for Emery.

Give me more muggleborns, folks! I need them!

Chapter 30

George jumped up from his chair in the kitchen when he heard the floo. As much as he would like to come across as cool and collected, he had missed Hermione too much over the last few days.

Rushing into the sitting room, he caught her in his arms and, after a quick visual check-in, swept her into a kiss. He reveled in the feel of her lips, her body pressed against his. George knew they weren’t supposed to pressure her for anything, but Merlin he wanted to. And he knew she could feel his want.

They were both breathless when they pulled away, but George recovered his voice first. “You’re in a good mood.”

“Meeting the other muggleborns went well. Some of the muggleborns Professor McGonagall brought in have skills I didn’t even realize we needed. We have a plan for moving forward and I am quite pleased with it. Plus…” Hermione looked around curiously. “Where’s Fred?”

“You’re in my arms and only thinking of my twin?” George asked with mostly-mock hurt. “You wound me.”

“Do I hear I’m wanted?” Fred called from down the hallway. He came out wrapped in a towel, hair still dripping.

Hermione was clearly distracted for a moment. Fred grinned as he prompted her. “You had something to talk to me about?”

“Oh, yes,” she managed. “Snape.”

“You want to talk to him about Snape? While you’re ogling him like that?” George snickered.

Hermione shot him the evil eye, but she was smiling. “Snape has a portrait in Professor McGonagall’s office. He was just as foul as ever, but he agreed to talk to Fred specifically about the potion.”

“Snape asked for me?” Fred asked in surprise.

“He said you’re the ‘least dunderheaded’ Weasley,” Hermione informed him.

George sniggered. “That should go on your headstone someday, twin-o-mine.”

Fred rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “Why wait til I’m dead? I’m having it emblazoned on a

wall of the shop.”

“You’re right, that’s even better!” George said, eyes aglow with mischief.

“Shame the old bat won’t ever be there to see it,” Fred lamented.

Hermione’s lips quirked up as she suggested, “We could take him a picture.”

“You, my love, are perfection,” Fred declared as he swept in to kiss her even as she stood in George’s arms. With anyone else, it would have been too much, but with his twin, George just nuzzled into the back of her neck and sighed contently.

“You’re just saying that to get in my pants,” Hermione giggled. George was happy to hear the sound. And a certain part of his body was very happy with the joking that might lead to reality.

“And if I am?” Fred asked, his voice low and seductive.

“We would love to do anything you’re interested in,” George hastily broke in, “but only if you truly want to and your body is healed.”

“Ginny helped… um… rub in some ointment last night. I’m feeling rejuvenated,” Hermione assured them.

“So you want…” he left the possibility hanging.

“The two of you in bed with me, making love? Yes, very much.”

George met Fred’s eyes over her shoulder and a feeling passed through all three of them as George felt himself and his twin practically melt with emotions. Yes, the three of them were soulbound, and yes there had certainly been sex, but there had never been talk of making love before.

Hermione reacted to their emotions, burrowing her head into Fred’s chest while squirming her lower body against George to give him attention, too. He let out a low moan at the way her body pressed into his, rubbing his cock between them. George shuddered and began kissing gently at the back of her neck and across her shoulders.

“Can we take this to the bedroom?” Hermione asked in a low, breathy voice when Fred released her from the kiss they had shared.

“Anything you want, love,” Fred agreed. He sounded almost drunk off of her.

Each of them took one of her hands and the three of them headed back to the main bedroom of the flat. George thought again that it was hardly the kind of space he wanted to bring their wife back to, but Hermione thankfully only had eyes for the two of them. As they stopped inside the room, she came to him, giving George a kiss that made his knees weak.

His hands roamed her body carefully as he tried to stay upright and focused. Magic was thrumming between them. It had been too long since their last time together — any time together, and even longer since their magic had really connected like this. George was overwhelmed by the intense feelings the three of them were passing back and forth as she stepped away from him and went after Fred.

Wasting no time, George divested himself of clothing and moved to help with Hermione’s. Fred was already aggressively pulling hers off as she tore at his shirt. It worried George that Fred might not be gentle enough, but he couldn’t have stopped his twin, not with the urgency they were all feeling.

It took only moments for them to fall into bed together, Hermione between them. “I need both of you,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “But just one at a time. Please.”

“Of course, love,” George answered, pulling her into his arms despite the annoyed look Fred shot him. But he burned for her lips on his, and she seemed just as needy as he was.

Fred took the moment to move his hands down her body. Hermione moaned into George’s mouth as Fred’s hands moved between her legs. For a moment, George felt slighted, that he was always second when it came to touching her, but then Hermione’s tongue tugged at his own and he forgot to care.

Instead, he ate up her little moans and pants as Fred slowly worked her to one orgasm after another, stretching and preparing her for their successive entrance. George was focused on touching her gently, her breasts under his hands, nipples between his fingers, as focused as he could be anyway, when her hands explored his chest and one slipped down to grasp his hard cock. Hermione wasn’t rubbing him hard or fast, just enough to feel the silky skin there slide over the almost painfully hard length.

George was going mad wanting more, but he soon found himself beside her as Fred prepared to drive into her. For a moment, he felt cast aside, but her eyes met his for a moment and her hand grasped his. It kept them connected even as Fred began to kiss her as he pushed inside. This wasn’t an ideal way to do things, but George was willing to do whatever she wanted, including just lay here and watch.

He had to admit it was sexy, watching her fall apart under his twin, somewhat like seeing what it would look like when he was with her himself. And Fred was worked up enough that it didn’t take him long. George stroked himself as he watched, staying ready, though he wasn’t sure if Hermione would want them one immediately after the other or not.

To be honest, George wasn’t sure if he wanted it that way either. He mostly wanted to sate this feeling of gathering magic, spill into her, and then lay wrapped in each other as they fell asleep. That was harder to do with three of them, but he was going to give it a try.

When Fred collapsed with a mighty groan, pressing Hermione deep into the mattress as she screamed her own release, George watched, trying to be patient with his brother and not shove him off. Magic tingled under his skin, reaching out for Hermione and teasing at her magical core. George could tell she felt it by the way she looked at him, even now, coming down from the high of being with Fred.

Fred, on the other hand, was boneless, the magic that had been buzzing through his twin suddenly exhausted. Hermione began pushing at him after a few moments and Fred mumbled in reply, pulling himself away from her and slumping on to the bed on the other side. His eyes were almost closed already by the time he hit the mattress.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked ravenous as she gripped George’s hair and pulled him toward her. He started to settle between her legs, but thought better of it. He pulled her close, kissing her as gently as he could manage with the magic pushing him, and then rolled the two of them over, a little further from the now-sleeping Fred and landing with her on top.

“Why—” she started.

“So you can control the speed and everything,” George managed, though having his cock where it rubbed at her wet slit was driving him mad enough that he was having a hard time stringing the words together.

“You can’t control that?” Hermione asked, smirking.

“The magic..” he said, almost whimpering, it felt so urgent inside him. He knew his cock was twitching against her, but there was nothing he could do to stop the need except follow it.

“I feel it, too,” she assured him. “I thought it would be less once Fred and I finished, but it’s almost worse.” Her voice was a harsh whisper of sound.

With that, she rose up just enough to get his cock in place at her entrance, then slowly impaled herself on him, staring into his eyes as she did it. George let out a long, low whine as he fought not to come for her just like that. He was panting when she had him fully inside her, and he was desperate to move.

She leaned down, the movement squeezing at him as she shifted, and began to kiss him before she slid her body up and down along his. It was gentle, but it built the magic to an explosive degree.

George’s body convulsed in time with Hermione’s as the magic burst out of them. For long moments, he couldn’t see past the white stars behind his eyelids. George knew there had been a wave of intensity when she and Fred finished, but he couldn’t imagine that the whole bond hadn’t felt it this time. He could die happy in this moment.

Instead, looking down at the beautiful woman whose eyelids were heavy as she lay sprawled across his chest, George rolled her between himself and his sleeping twin and cuddled into her side, pushing her until she was against Fred on the other side. He pulled up the blanket and fell asleep with Hermione in his arms.

**********

Fleur was nervous as she sat down on a comfortable wing back chair. She had never been alone with so many of the esteemed Hogwarts professors before and certainly not when she needed to beg a favour of them. She smoothed her skirt as she looked around the Headmistress’s personal sitting room.

With her heritage, she knew that her movement looked graceful and anyone watching her would be dazzled into thinking it was more purposeful than it was. Sometimes her Veela heritage was useful that way, but it also might make them distrust her. And it made her no less nervous.

Professor Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey were in the middle of a spirited discussion on whether it was best to use healing charms, potions, or tinctures on certain patients who had not yet left the infirmary. Headmistress McGonagall was watching the two of them, nodding and frowning along.

It was Professor Sprout who reached over and squeezed one of Fleur’s hands. “I’m so pleased you could join us today, dear.”

Fleur let out a breath that Professor Sprout hadn’t asked why she wanted to be there, but then she looked up and realized the other three were watching her. “Thank you for ‘aving me,” she said. Not ready to give her reasoning yet, she tried to take the conversation back to the previous topic. “I am surprised zere are steell people in ze infirmary ‘ere.”

“Not many,” the Headmistress assured.

“Just the ones St. Mungo’s won’t help,” Madam Pomfrey said, her voice filled with seething bitterness.

“St. Mungo’s won’t ‘elp people?” Fleur asked in shock, though considering the way they had behaved about the twins, perhaps she shouldn’t be so surprised.

“Oh, they’ll help the ones they deem ‘people’,” Madam Pomfrey corrected. “But you know, Mrs. Weasley, exactly how they feel about the ones they don’t.”

Fleur felt sickened as she realized these were either victims like herself, some creature blood to begin with, or those like Bill, who had been scratched or bitten and would no longer ‘count’ as fully human. Swallowing the bile that threatened, she asked, “Please, call me Fleur. Eez zere anything we can do to ‘elp? Are zey… are some of zem like Beel?”

“Some are,” Madam Pomfrey agreed. “Some were bitten and we don’t know yet if they will turn since Greyback was in mostly human form at the time. The ones who were only scratched, we know what to expect, but they’re still having a hard time coping.”

“Beel would talk to zem. Eef eet would ‘elp,” she offered.

“Are you certain?” Headmistress McGonagall asked sharply.

Fleur bristled, disliking the tone. “Of course ‘e would! ‘E wants to ‘elp people know they are not like Greyback just because of what was done to zem. Eet was a fear ‘e ‘ad when eet ‘appened to ‘im.”

She saw the older witch’s eyes soften when she mentioned Bill’s fear. “I’m sorry,” Headmistress McGonagall apologized. “I should know William better. I just thought he might be too busy now, stepping into his place as the Head of House and with all the news about the marriage and everything that must entail.”

It was impossible to ignore the fact that everyone had leaned forward with a keen eye on her when the headmistress had mentioned the marriage. They, like everyone else, wanted to know how she felt about sharing her husband. And her wife, though they didn’t know that bit. That much, at least, had been kept from the papers. It was enough that they thought she was sharing her husband.

“Oui, we are all very busy,” she said, making her tone as glacial as she could manage. Softening, she added, “But we are busy together and taking care of each other.”

The gathered professors breathed a sigh almost as one, seeming relieved by her words. It was only then that Fleur realized they hadn’t just wanted gossip. They wanted to know that things were okay, too.

“It is good to know you’re there for each other,” said the aging Headmistress. “Do call me Minerva,” she added.

“And me Poppy,” Madam Pomfrey insisted.

“You already know you’d best call me Pomona,” her friend said. Fleur reflected that the woman who had practically adopted her when she was so overcome after the second task was indeed Pomona to her.

A squeaky voice from across the table declared, “Filius here.”

Her acceptance of Hermione had somehow passed a test she didn’t know she was taking. They had all been politely friendly before, and Pomona moreso, but now there was genuine warmth behind all their smiles.

Relief swept through Fleur. Perhaps they would be more willing to help her now. She knew she was asking a lot. Before she could ask, Pomona spoke up.

“I’m so glad to hear things are okay between you all!”

“Oui. ‘Ermione eez perfect and a good leader for ze Weasley family,” Fleur said, trying not to sound too proud of the girl. She didn’t want them to suspect anything.

“Leader?” Minerva questioned.

Fleur realized too late what that implied. But it also gave her the opening she had been looking for. “She and our Beel, of course. We would have liked to defer to Mrs. Weasley, of course — to Molly — but she ‘as gone mad.”

“Mad?” Poppy repeated, listening intently now that a possible illness was on the table.

“Oui,” Fleur agreed. “Eet eez why I hoped to talk to you all today. She eez making things hard for Beel, ‘Ermione, poor little Ginny, all of us.”

“I take it she knows the true nature of the marriage?” Minerva observed.

As much as she hated it, Fleur felt herself blushing as she nodded. “She does, though she was a terror before zat, too.”

Minerva sighed, exchanging a look with the other professors. “I’m afraid Molly has always been a bit mad when she’s in a temper. And I can only imagine her grief over Arthur has made it much worse.”

“Oui,” Fleur agreed. Feeling judged for not somehow making things right for the woman who should be like a second mother to her, she continued, “I want to feel sympathy for ‘er but eet eez ‘ard when she eez tormenting ze people I care for most.”

“What was she angry about before she knew about the marriage?” Filius asked, his body practically buzzing with the excitement of new gossip. It made Fleur want to giggle, but it would be misplaced in the conversation.

“She deed not want Beel to take ze ‘Ead of ‘Ouse for ze families. She expected to be een control,” Fleur confided in a whisper. She knew it wasn’t necessary, but she wanted to be certain they understood she was nervous about entrusting this information to anyone else.

“Is there something you believe we can do?” Pomona asked, ready to jump into action.

“I ‘ad ‘oped you might be able to talk sense into ‘er. She sees you as… what do you say… ze authorities? She might listen to you,” Fleur implored.

Minerva shook her head, her mouth pursed. “I doubt she’ll listen to anyone, but we can try.”

“Molly always has followed her own path,” Poppy commented with a small laugh.

“What do you mean?” Fleur asked, insatiably curious.

Poppy smiled at her. “Are you aware that William was born two months ‘early’ compared to their Hogwarts graduation and immediate marriage?”

“No!” Fleur cried, her hands flying to her mouth in her shock. Her perfect mother-in-law, the woman who was adamant about everyone staying in separate rooms until they were married, had engaged in premarital, teenage indiscretions? It was scandalous. She immediately loved it. “I cannot believe eet!”

“Oh, yes you can. I see that glint in your eye,” Pomona laughed.

Fleur smiled back at her, meaning it. “No denying I am scandalized — and intrigued.” She giggled, and the others joined her.

“Of course, that’s nothing to the indiscretions of some of the students,” Minerva commented, “Past and present alike.”

“They get more daring each year. And the young Death Eaters were the worst lot of them,” Filius piped up, half amused and half disgruntled.

“Ze young Death Eaters?” Fleur prompted.

“The younger Mr. Malfoy and his ilk,” Minerva said, shaking her head.

Poppy made a clicking noise with her tongue. “Child soldiers are known for needing stress relief. If taking comfort in each other is where they found it, we shouldn’t judge. They didn’t take out their… needs on others, as they certainly could have gotten away with if they had wanted.”

Fleur was surprised by her vehemence. So, clearly, were the Professors. It was Pomona who ventured to say, “That’s a good point, Poppy. They could have done worse.”

“And the young Nott and Parkinson heirs have been using their fortunes to help make reparations around the Wizarding World. Without Nott, I doubt the castle would be as far along as it is.”

Blinking, Fleur wondered at that. The castle was still crumbling in most areas. Yes, Minerva’s office was pristine. And the Hospital Wing and Great Hall were in usable condition from what she could tell, but most of the rest of Hogwarts was still in shambles. Before she could stop herself, Fleur commented, “Zis eez better?”

“Than it could be,” Filius said with a sigh. “Though how we’ll be ready to open by September, I don’t know.”

Looking to Minerva, the woman nodded, looking her age for once, her expression severe. “I still have all those teaching positions to fill — except Care of Magical Creatures, thank you — and we can hardly hold classes in a crumbling structure such as this. We need more people helping and even more money than the Nott estate can provide, I fear.”

“Perhaps we can help?” Fleur offered, “Weeth more people, zat eez.”

“Any assistance would be appreciated. There is plenty to do,” Minerva said, gratitude shining in her eyes. Fleur made a mental note that they must come at least a day or two.

“Of course, most people are busy helping their family and friends,” Filius noted. “I hear that a number of people have banded together to help poor Andromeda especially.”

Fleur filed that information away. Harry should be part of that, if he wished. Or watching the babe while it happened. She would love to help with that, if not whatever Andromeda needed done. Perhaps Ginny could use some practice with a baby, too. Or perhaps it would just scare the girl.

“Then there are all the shops in Hogsmeade and Diagon,” Poppy noted. “The problem is that everyone needs help right now.”

“Oui, but the education of young witches and wizards eez important to all,” Fleur pointed out.

“You would think so,” Minerva grumbled.

“Have you heard about…” Pomona began, sounding like she had some very juicy tidbit to share, but Fleur couldn’t follow what it was as she was suddenly overwhelmed by the intense pulsing she now associated with the bond and an impending bondgasm. Oh Merlin, not here.

She moaned and cried out uncontrollably as an earthshattering orgasm rolled through her. Fleur was shaking as she glanced up, mortified, and saw them all staring at her.

“What was that?” Minerva asked, looking almost offended.

Pomona was more concerned. “Are you okay, dear?”

“Whatever that was, I should probably check you over!” Poppy declared.

It was Filius who just looked intrigued. “Was that a response to a bonding? It looked like one.”

Fleur felt herself blushing, and for once she wasn’t sure it was the pretty sort. She might just be turning into a tomato. “Eet eez ze bond,” she agreed, not sure what else could possibly explain what had just happened.

“You’re a part of it, too!” Fillius noted gleefully. “This is fascinating! Were you connected from the start or has it developed since then? You wouldn’t have been part of the initial ritual — or were you? I wish I could study the way the ritual was put together, but Family Legacies are treasured, I know.”

He was talking fast, too excited by the magic to actually let her answer any of his questions. Fleur was relieved when Poppy broke in. “This is a sign of a very strong bond, perhaps too strong if they are nowhere nearby and it still affected you so intensely.”

Shyly, Fleur admitted, “It affects all of us no matter how far away we may be. Though none of us can be too far for long.”

“I thought Hermione and Charlie went to Romania for a few days?” Minerva questioned.

“Zey deed. Eet was painful for ze rest of us. Eet all centers around ‘Ermione,” she explained.

“That must be so hard for all of you,” Pomona said, patting her arm. Fleur almost flinched away. Any human touch was hard after an orgasm like that alone. She wanted Bill, or Hermione, to be near her.

“The implications of a bond so tight are fascinating!” Filius said, so enthusiastic he looked like he might vibrate right out of the chair.

“Zey do not know what zey did wrong to make eet so tight but ‘Ermione eez working on a ritual to loosen ze bonds for more comfort,” Fleur explained.

“A new ritual?” Filius enthused. “If she needs any help, please send her to me. I would be delighted to lend my expertise.”

“I thought ze charms were your expertise,” Fleur said, wondering if he really knew or if he just wanted to get his hands on their Family Legacies.

“Oh, they are, but my goblin heritage leans more toward rituals, so I have quite a lot of experience with them as well,” he said.

Fleur bristled at the mention that he was part goblin. It was easy to forget. And she never wanted to disparage another with creature blood, but she was not feeling generous toward the goblin nation right now. They were holding herself and Bill prisoner and she wanted her freedom.

Filius observed her hesitance and his expression became guarded. “I cannot explain why my brethren have done to you what they have, but know that there is a reason behind what they do.” His eyes held secrets that Fleur did not like. It made her nervous for tomorrow’s meeting.

Minerva stood suddenly, and announced, “I think that’s enough. Fleur, we will do our best to make Molly see reason, but I can’t make any promises.”

“It was lovely to have you join us this evening,” Pomona said, pulling her in for a motherly hug. With Fleur’s own mother so far away, it was most welcome.

She noticed that the other Professors were still sitting, meaning most likely that the Headmistress was dismissing her and not the rest of those gathered. Fleur wondered why, but also knew that she shouldn’t push when they had agreed to do what she came there to ask. She curtsied, wished them all a good evening, and headed to the floo.

**************

Hermione woke alone in the bed to the sound of an owl pecking at the window. The twins had tucked her in carefully, but judging from the slant of the sun, they must have headed down to the shop hours ago.

She stretched, sore in all the best places but not overly so, and slowly got up to see what the owl wanted. What she found in the note it bore surprised her.

Fleur was at work this morning, but had taken the time to write.

Hermione,

I spoke with the Professors yesterday and then this morning received an owl from Headmistress McGonagall. She wishes to caution you that the goblins are letting a prophecy guide their actions and that you must show deference and take it seriously even if it is obviously not true. I have heard no whisper of this here at the bank, but it seems likely this has to do with the unborn child they believe you will have. Please be careful. I will be passing this caution to Bill, as well.

You loving wife,

Fleur

Hermione read it twice to be sure she had all the information. Merlin, she hated prophecies. But whatever this one was, it was wrong because the ritual hadn’t resulted in a pregnancy. Not for her anyway and she was the subject of the ritual. They would need to tread carefully, but it was good to have some idea of what they might be walking into.

She got dressed and ready, taking her time to look well groomed and hoping the others would do the same. Hermione knew she needed to eat — it was nearly lunchtime — but she wasn’t sure she could stomach anything.

Looking in the cupboards of the twins’ flat, she quickly determined there was nothing to eat. Perhaps she could step into muggle London for a moment and get a simple sandwich somewhere before time to go. Mind made up, she headed downstairs. She could bring food to the boys, too, if they were interested.

When she reached the main level, boisterous laughter could be heard over the general commotion of the shop. A harried looking Verity was shooting dirty looks toward the back room. Hermione knew if they weren’t out on the floor, the twins were working to keep up with the overwhelming demand for more of their products. But she could see that Verity needed some help. She would send one or both of them out.

As she got closer, Hermione realized the laughing voices weren’t just the twins. Charlie and Harry must be there as well. She was right, of course, though to her surprise, Percy was there as well. Unsurprisingly, he noticed her first.

“Hermione,” he greeted, standing and walking to her, bringing his lips to her forehead, then looking down at her, directly into her eyes. She had to fight the urge to look down, away from his scrutiny. “Have they treated you well?”

“Yes,” she answered with certainty. “They did exactly what I asked, without pushing for more.” She shivered when his hand caught her chin and scrutinized her expression.

Hermione realized she had passed whatever test he was performing when his mouth covered hers, drawing her into one of his electrifying kisses. The heat of Percy’s lips, his insistent tongue pushing for entry and then taking total control of her. She melted into him, unaware of the twins catcalling them and Percy flipping them off behind his back even as his other hand wove into her hair.

When Percy released her, after what felt like hours later but could have only been a few minutes, Hermione staggered. Percy would have caught her, but Charlie was already there. “What happened to giving her space?” he asked. His tone was neutral, but the look in his eyes would have cowed a dragon.

Percy’s cheeks flushed. “It was only a kiss, but I apologize Hermione, I should have asked your permission first.”

“I would have granted it,” she assured him. Looking between the two, she said, “I’m really fine. No one has to be upset about anything.”

Charlie grimaced even as Percy smiled, but he shook the dour look from his face and tried to smile at Hermione instead. She wondered what was going through Charlie’s head to make it so hard to just laugh this off.

She decided she didn’t want to know enough to ask him. Instead, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled Charlie down to meet her lips. As he realised what she wanted, Charlie kissed her with just as much toe-curling enthusiasm as his brother had. Fred and George were protesting now and Hermione pulled away from Charlie for a moment. “Verity needs help out front,” she managed to say before giving in to the desire she was drowning in and pulling Charlie’s lips back down again.

Harry was the one to stop them. “Merlin, Hermione, are you going to eat him alive?” He sounded disgruntled about it and Hermione instantly knew he was feeling jealous. They had to get his bonds fixed. She needed more research time. More time in general.

“What are you all doing here?” she asked, ignoring Harry’s question. Now that she wasn’t snogging Charlie, Harry seemed willing to let it go.

“I was hoping to see you before your meeting with the goblins,” Percy explained himself.

“Do you have information we need?” Hermione asked nervously.

Percy shook his head. “No. I just wanted to wish you luck. I know you’ll be fine, but I can’t help but worry.” His hands were hovering over her arms, looking like he wanted to tear her away from Charlie, but was forcing himself not to.

“I’m here to help the twins,” Harry told her. “They’re showing me how to stir up the simple things the shop needs. Or they would be if they weren’t constantly needed out there.”

“Constantly?” Hermione questioned.

Harry nodded. “Everytime they come back and get started showing me, something happens that they’re needed. They need more help. Maybe I should learn to work the register, instead.”

“Maybe you should,” Hermione agreed. “I’m sure Verity would be thrilled to help you learn.”

Catching her attention, Charlie said, “I’m here to collect you.”

“We’re not due to the bank for two more hours,” she pointed out.

“Have you eaten yet?” Charlie asked.

“No, but I was thinking I might go into muggle London for something light.”

He looked relieved, as did Percy. “Do you mind if I accompany you?” Charlie asked.

“I had hoped to escort you,” Percy said, “but my lunch is nearly over, so Charlie will be a better option.”

“I’m sorry I slept so late,” Hermione apologized automatically, but Percy shook his head.

“Never apologize for giving yourself the rest your body needs. You should do it more often.” He bent down and kissed her forehead again, squeezed her hand with his own, then strode from the room.

“Do you want to come with us, Harry?” she asked.

“No, but you could bring something back for me?” he asked hopefully. “I can’t leave. The moment I do, they’ll actually be available.”

Hermione laughed and took Charlie by the hand. “Let’s go then. I’m so nervous I don’t know if I can eat, but I’m definitely hungry,”

As it turned out, she was able to eat once Charlie gave her a small potion vial of Calming Draught. He had come prepared. Hermione couldn’t quite hide how grateful she felt toward him. She was almost embarrassed by how besotted she must look, but then decided she didn’t care. Charlie meant more to her than her pride.

“How did the meeting with the Muggleborn Coalition go?” Charlie asked, having not really seen her since that happened. Hermione knew he was at least partially just asking to distract her, but he listened avidly and asked questions. As her explanation wound down, she began to think about her to-do list.

“Tomorrow I have some correspondence to respond to for the next steps. We somehow have to fill the five Wizengamot seats in only a few days. I’m not sure where to start in finding the right people.”

“Perhaps it could just be temporary seating for now?” Charlie suggested.

“I suppose that’s possible.” she agreed. “I was hoping to have members ready for at least the entire summer session.”

“It makes sense that they could stay that long. And maybe the Coalition would vote some to stay even longer.”

Hermione found herself nodding as she thought about it. “Thank you. I think that’s a good plan to get this done quickly.”

Charlie beamed at her. “I’m glad I can help. I would do more if I could.”

“I know you would,” she told him. And she did. Charlie would give the clothes off his back if it helped someone, as long as it didn’t hurt a dragon or other creature.

They smiled at one another and Hermione had to fight the urge to snog him right here in the middle of the restaurant. Charlie had done an excellent job of taking her mind off the coming meeting, but checking the time, Hermione realized they needed to get Harry’s order and head back.

When they returned to the shop, Ron was waiting for them, dressed in Auror training robes but, mercifully, with not a hair out of place and a pleasant scent. He gave Hermione a hug and a kiss on the cheek before saying, “We’re to meet Bill at the front of the bank.”

**********

Bill stood just outside the bank, waiting impatiently. If people hadn’t been watching him, he would have paced. Despite the fact that he had just seen King Ragnuk a week before with Harry, he was terrified by how this meeting might end.

They had the plan for the dragon guards, a dragon handler willing to work with them, and more of the goblin-made items from Hogwarts, but they did not have the pregnancy the goblins were expecting of himself and Hermione. Bill was glad the goblins’ prophecy hadn’t come true, but he wasn’t sure how King Ragnuk would feel about it, and that was what scared him.

He breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw Hermione coming, sandwiched between Charlie and Ron. They all looked presentable. Paying no mind to the people gawking at the three of them, Hermione was laughing at something Ron had just said, Charlie grinning as well. Bill hated to drag them all down with his own mood, but he needed them to be serious about this meeting.

“Bill!” Hermione cried joyously as she caught sight of him. She started to rush forward, but Charlie caught her sleeve. His eyes scanned the crowd in a slightly nervous way and then flicked up to Bill as he whispered something in Hermione’s ear. Hopefully it was something about not drawing any more attention than they already had. Bill’s nerves were too on edge to have to worry about something else. He should have had them come straight to his office.

He hustled them into the bank as quickly as possible, barely registering the way Ron was complaining in response. “Get in before something happens out here,” Bill growled.

“So something can happen to us in there?” Ron grumbled back, but he went inside.

Bill wasn’t sure if he was relieved or more nervous now that they had arrived. Ron had a point.

Knowing it was no use to delay the inevitable, he led the way into the antechamber where they would await King Ragnuk’s call. Charlie and Ron both looked unnaturally stoic as they took in the splendor of the room. Hermione, however, was ignoring the decor.

She reached out to him, one hand taking his. “Bill, it’s going to be okay.”

“You can’t know that,” he whispered. “I work with them. I know them.”

“But you don’t personally know the King, and you don’t know how the horde will react to what we’re offering,” she pointed out.

“No matter what we offer, it’s not going to be what they want,” Bill said with an urgency he hadn’t wanted to show. He didn’t want her to know just how worried he was.

Her expression changed and he knew he had failed at keeping it from her. Or the others. Charlie put a hand on his shoulder and reassured him, “Whatever happens, we’re there together. I don’t believe they’re going to hurt any of us.”

“That’s because you don’t know the goblins the way I do,” Bill told his brother.

“I’m an Auror-in-training and Mione and I are two-thirds of the Golden Trio,” Ron pointed out, puffing out his chest a bit. “They’re not going to hurt us.”

“Bully for you,” Bill said before he could stop himself. “They don’t own you the way they do Fleur and I.”

Hermione pursed her lips. “We’re going to work on that.”

“You can’t—” But he was cut off by the appearance of several goblins, scowling at them.

“King Ragnuk is ready for you and your party, Curse Breaker William Weasley,” one of them announced, glaring at Bill.

He knew he probably looked pale as he fell into step behind the goblins, the other three following along. The goblins weren’t looking at them, much less talking. Bill was vaguely aware of the wonder with which Ron, Hermione, and Charlie were looking around at the golden hallway and all its treasures, but he was too worried to smile at their reactions.

Too soon, they entered the throne room and the boisterous noise of the room quieted, all the goblins staring down at the four of them. The goblin guards were now blocking the way back into the hallway and Bill felt more trapped than ever.

“Curse Breaker William Weasley, bring your petitioners forward. I hadn’t expected quite so many of you,” the King spoke.

Without any alternative, Bill began putting one foot in front of the other. The other three followed, but Hermione caught up with his long strides after a moment and took his hand, presenting a united front as they arrived in front of the throne. It was unlikely to impress the King.

“This is not how you approach King Ragnuk,” said a goblin off to the side.

“What’s wrong with it?” Hermione asked curiously before Bill could say that she didn’t know any better.

The King leaned forward, smiling nastily. “Did Curse Breaker William Weasley not explain proper etiquette to you, his wife?”

“William and I are as one. We petition your majesty together as you have already leveled the punishment that should have gone to Harry, Ronald, and I at William and our wife, Fleur,” Hermione said, showing no sign of fear.

“Our? You consider a half-breed your wife?” the King asked, taking what he wanted from the statement.

“I am her mate and she is my wife,” Hermione said, chin raised as though waiting for someone to argue with her.

King Ragnuk smiled, a frightening thing, but the smile could be a good thing for them. “You are fierce — a good quality for the mother of the babe we need.”

“I do not understand why you would need a human baby,” Hermione stated. Bill wanted to intercede, say something that would help the situation, but he was frozen with indecision and fear. He knew what they were capable of.

The assembly of goblins took an angry breath in, but the King held up his hand. “It is not your place to understand, or to question.”

“I am not questioning,” Hermione told him. “I am stating a fact. It is a moot point as there is no baby.”

A gasp sounded all the way around the room. Murmurs turned into a roar of angry sound until the King again held up his hand for silence. His words were more of a loud growl when he spoke. “What do you mean there is no baby? Of course there isn’t yet. I mean the one growing in your womb, a child born of ritual between yourself and our Curse Breaker.”

“And I’m telling you that no such child exists,” Hermione answered with fire in her voice. Bill was certain now that they were doomed. “I have just been through a war. I was starving while we were on the run and my body is malnourished. While it is possible that there should have been a pregnancy, there is not.”

“You got rid of our baby!” a goblin shouted from somewhere to their left. An angry buzz of voices rose at that.

“I did no such thing!” Hermione shouted back. “My body was not capable of sustaining a pregnancy. It might never be. I received a curse wound on my abdomen years ago. It is possible I am infertile.” Bill felt a surge of shock filter through his body at that pronouncement. He had seen the scar, but it hadn’t occurred to him how that might affect her future.

The King looked furious as he leaned over and whispered something to one of his guard. The goblin disappeared instantly. He returned moments later with another goblin, this one in robes and a strange headdress. In his hand was a staff, small but glowing with magic.

Bill had heard legends of Gritnar, the goblin shaman, but he had never seen anyone he might guess was that esteemed goblin. This was clearly the shaman himself. The goblin walked forward until he was standing just in front of Hermione. With his hand, he wove a complex symbol in the air, shaking his staff as he spoke in a language Bill didn’t recognize, something more ancient than Gobbledegook.

A light surrounded Hermione, changing colors rapidly. Bill heard a commotion behind him and turned to see that Charlie and Ron were being restrained, both of them clearly wanting to protect Hermione from what was happening. He, too, felt that urge, but he was also fairly certain the shaman wasn’t trying to hurt her. Whatever he was doing was meant peacefully, Bill hoped. He gave his brothers a look meant to quell them, though it did no good.

“The witch speaks true that there is no child of the ritual,” the shaman announced. “Though she is incorrect that her body is not capable. It will be difficult, but not impossible.” Gritnar gave Hermione a significant look that Bill thought might have been sympathy, though it was odd to see it on a goblin face.

“She could still carry our child?” The Goblin King asked.

“No, Great King,” Gritnar said, his voice a loud grumble. “The prophecy has passed out of possibility. We have angered our Gods.”

There was dead silence in the chamber, all the goblins collectively holding their breaths.

“By allowing the break-in without retribution?” King Ragnuk demanded. Bill felt a sinking in his gut.

Then Gritnar looked at him and Bill felt like his soul was being weighed. The shaman slowly shook his head. “We have taken our retribution on the wrong people. We have been greedy,” he intoned, his voice echoing.

The silence was broken when King Ragnuk began to laugh. For once, no one followed his lead. When he stopped laughing, he said, “So we are being punished for being ourselves? For being what the gods demand of us?”

“The prophecy required the parents of this child to be free. Curse Breaker William Weasley belonged to us when he should not have. We must set him free.”

“But it will not result in the babe we need?” the King checked his understanding.

“It will not,” Gritnar agreed. “But it is what must be done.”

“Why must it?” King Ragnuk demanded petulantly.

“If the fates of our nation are to change, if we are to maintain our rights and grow the horde, we must release the Weasley family from servitude. Only one will remain, and of his own will.”

Bill gulped, wondering what sort of “deal” they might offer that would convince him to stay. To his surprise, it was a voice behind him that spoke next.

“That will be me,” Charlie announced.

King Ragnuk peered past Bill and Hermione. “The unexpected one,” he noted. “Why would you remain in our service when we do not know or want you?”

“You will,” Charlie said confidently. “Because I’m here for your dragons.”

“You have dragons for us?” King Ragnuk said, suddenly sounding intrigued and greedy as he emphasized the plural.

“If you accept the terms of our deal,” Hermione said, “We have worked out a solution to your guard problem — a way to keep the vaults safe while treating the dragons more humanely.”

“They are a tool to be used—” King Ragnuk began.

“When wizardkind have treated goblins as such, you have — rightly — rebelled,” Hermione interrupted. “Whatever creatures you keep will work to escape or to harm you or whatever they must to regain their sovereignty.”

“The witch speaks true,” Gritnar repeated. “Listen, my King.”

King Ragnuk looked like he would prefer to feed Gritnar to a dragon rather than listen to him, but he grit his teeth and snarled, “Tell me the deal.”

Hermione explained as quickly and succinctly as possible that they would have two dragons — a mated pair of Fireballs. They would have access to a magical meadow where they can hunt and fly through a portal Hermione had created. To them, the bank would appear to be a cave. They would require a small hoard of gold to protect, but having it would cause the territorial dragons to fight anyone who came near them. The pair would trade off, never leaving the hoard, and therefore the vaults, unguarded.

There was silence in the hall when she finished. The goblins were clearly calculating the worth of this offer.

“And the Weasley is involved in what way?” King Ragnuk enquired.

“I am a dragon handler from the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary,” Charlie explained. “These are some of my hand-trained dragons and I would continue, if they are allowed to join you, to care for them, maintaining their health and ensuring they remain as interested in their hoard as you want them.”

“You can ensure this?” the King clarified.

“Yes, great King,” Charlie answered, following the speech patterns of the goblins they had heard. Bill was relieved by his brother’s words. “And I will do so as long as I am physically able as long as you agree to our terms.”

“What are we to do once you are no longer able?” King Ragnuk asked shrewdly.

“That will be for you to decide,” Charlie said, raising an eyebrow. “At that time, our family’s retribution will be complete, though I expect you could contract with another dragon handler at that time.”

“So you offer the horde two dragons and your services until you are unable — in exchange for the release of William and Fleur Weasley’s lives and their work contracts.”

“That is not all,” Hermione said, fearless as ever. When the King’s gaze fell on her, she continued, “we bring you more recovered wealth of your people.” Ron stepped forward, unveiling a velvet roll that held even more priceless goblin-made weapons and jewelry than Harry had brought. “These we will return to you in exchange for myself and Ronald Weasley to be fully pardoned by the goblin nation and allowed to do business within your bank.”

King Ragnuk looked at her with narrowed eyes. Bill could tell he didn’t like the way Hermione had spoken to him without any fear and minimal deference, but the King was also greedy for the things she had brought.

“Because we have already allowed Lord Potter to repay us in this fashion, we will allow it of you as well as releasing Curse Breaker William Weasley and his… other wife.” He paused for a moment before calling, “Shaman Gritnar! Are you certain there will be no child?”

“Not of ritual as was necessary, great King,” Gritnar responded.

“Might another ritual result in the child?” King Ragnuk asked.

Bill, more daring in his relief at this nearly being over, accidentally let his one burning question slip, “Why do you need a child?”

There was silence and he felt the goblins glaring at him from all around. He had spoken out of turn and, unlike the others, he knew better.

“The prophecy stated that a goblin-raised wizard, born of ritual between the curse breaker and his wife, would raise the goblin nation above all others. The opportunity was too good to ignore, obviously, but it did not come to pass,” Gritnar answered. For a goblin, he was loose with information.

“Though a human child would be most annoying to raise,” King Ragnuk noted with a growl. “That is enough of your sharing, Gritnar. Unless you have a new prophecy, your presence is no longer required.”

The shaman, rather than bowing, gave a nod of acceptance and retreated through whatever door existed behind the throne. Bill saw that Hermione was about to say something, but he somehow felt certain whatever it was would not be helpful. He reached out and squeezed her hand, distracting her.

“Give us the products of our ancestors’ toil and we will release you, all but Dragon Handler Charles Weasley.”

Charlie gave a low bow. “I will be glad to be of service.”

“Good,” King Ragnuk grunted. “Hundar will escort you all back to the bank and gather the details of the dragons’ arrival from you, Dragon Handler Charles Weasley.”

Charlie started to speak again, but the goblin who had come up to them — Hundar — shook his head slightly. Instead, they all bowed and turned to leave. The goblins watched them go, looking unhappy, but Bill couldn’t feel scared anymore. Not when they were leaving with everything they could have hoped for.

When they arrived back at the antechamber they had started in, Hundar took Charlie aside while the goblin Darbold beckoned to Bill. “You will need to clean out your office, William Weasley. Fleur Weasley has already packed up her desk and been escorted out.”

Bill nodded and turned to tell the others where he was going, but it appeared they had already heard. Hermione linked arms with Ron and nodded a simple goodbye to Bill. He would see her later, he hoped.

*********

“I can’t believe you didn’t say a single word,” Hermione said to him.

Ron half laughed. “And mess it up?” Merlin, there had been no way he was going to say anything in that death pit full of angry goblins. That they had left alive and cleared of charges was still dawning on him.

“You wouldn’t have,” she assured him, but Ron noticed she wasn’t meeting his eyes. Instead, she suggested, “Do you want to open a vault while we’re already here?”

“Not today,” Ron said. “I have to meet up with my co-worker.”

“Millicent?” Hermione asked, her curiosity shining through her voice.

He could have groaned. “Don’t get the wrong idea. It’s just I promised we could go for drinks and I’ve put her off for days now. She said she wasn’t taking no for an answer this time. We’re meeting at the Leaky.”

“Right now?” Hermione asked, not seeming to believe him.

“I’m late already,” Ron told her. It wasn’t strictly true, but he wanted out of this bank, somewhere he couldn’t see a single goblin.

With a nod, she said, “You’re probably right to do this another day. I should go find Fleur and make sure she’s okay.”

“Did you mean that about you being her mate?” Ron asked quietly. He hadn’t meant to, the words just slipped out.

“Yes, not that it’s anyone’s business but ours. She’s my wife to anyone who thinks they need to know.” The look Hermione was giving him made it very clear what would happen if he let his tongue wag on the subject.

Not that he would have. Too much of their family’s business was well known already. Giving Hermione a swift hug, he left her preparing to use the floo. He probably should have taken it, too, but he needed some fresh air after the cloying fear he had felt in that throne room.

There was a nice breeze as he walked along. He knew Auror Training was starting to have an effect on him when it occurred to him that it would be pleasant for a run. That was a new thought. Ron wasn’t often introspective, but he was aware enough to know that exercise had never been a priority for him when he thought of fun things to do. Now, the crowds were annoying because he couldn’t stretch his long legs.

Looking around, he realized the crowd was annoying for more than just that reason. Coming toward him was none other than Rita Skeeter, the crowd parting in front of her, scrambling to get out of her way and avoid her attention. Not that she had eyes for anyone but him. “Yoohoo! Donald! You’re just the Weasley I’m looking for.”

Merlin. He decided he could jog in the crowd after all. Thankfully, once he was moving more quickly, the clacking of her ridiculous heels fell away. Ron made it to The Leaky Cauldron without even breaking a sweat, and with Rita nowhere in sight.

Inside, he was glad to see Millie’s dark head of hair sitting at a booth. Good. They could get this over with. As he approached, however, he realized she wasn’t alone.

Sitting on the other side of the booth was a slim boy with wild chestnut curls and dark, vibrant blue eyes. Ron took in his demeanor and moved his eyes to the next person — Pansy fucking Parkinson.

“What is this?” he demanded of Millie the moment her eyes met his.

“You’ve kept me waiting for over an hour. They happened in and we’ve been keeping each other company. I told them not to leave without me,” she expressed without backing down an inch.

She was right. It had been a long time to wait, but she could have just buggered off home and forgotten about this whole shite of getting to know one another.

“I don’t fancy being ganged up on,” Ron snapped. He wasn’t putting up with Slytherins attacking him for no good reason.

“We won’t say anything,” the boy said. His voice was quiet and tense. Ron wondered who he was.

“You expect me to believe Pansy Parkinson is going to keep her mouth shut?”

Millie started to say something, but was stopped when Pansy put a hand on her arm, darted a nervous glance around the bar and nodded. “I will,” she said firmly. She didn’t even sound haughty about it.

Ron was stunned enough that he didn’t argue. Peering at her, he absently plopped down on the bench next to Millie. “So what do you want?”

Millie huffed. “I want you to stop being an arsehole to me just because of the House I was sorted into when I was 11.”

“Of course you were sorted there,” Ron huffed back. “You’re evil and—”

“No, I’m not.”

“All you pureblood bitches—”

“You’re a pureblood, too, you know. And I’m no more of a little bitch than you are,” Millie argued.

“That’s not what I meant—” Ron started, but she cut him off tersely.

“Look Weasley, we have to be partners for the foreseeable future. I’m sure part of that is learning to get past our prejudices. So let’s try to be adults about it,” Millie said, taking a swig of her butterbeer as she stared him dead in the eye.

Shaking his head, Ron said, “Your friend here tried to offer Harry to Lord Voldyshorts.” He gestured to Pansy, ignoring the snort of laughter from the boy next to her over the childish nickname.

Millie rolled her eyes. “She was scared, like all of us were. And Harry offered himself not long after.”

“That still doesn’t excuse—”

“I’m also not Pansy,” Millie interrupted. “I don’t think you should judge her for that, but even if you do, you absolutely shouldn’t judge me for it.”

“You’re just as bad.” He wasn’t giving in to the little voice that said she might be right.

“We’ve been working together for over a week now and I haven’t done anything to you that we weren’t commanded to do. What will it take for you to trust me? Because we’re stuck together.”

Grumbling, Ron had to concede that she was right. “Time,” he growled. “I’ll have to get used to you, but I’m not just going to trust you because I have to have butterbeer with you and your nasty friends.”

Pansy glared at him, and the boy just looked sad. Ron vaguely wondered who he was, but decided he didn’t care enough to ask.

“My nasty friends are afraid to leave by themselves because they get attacked every time they go outside,” Millie said angrily.

“Well if they weren’t baby Death Eaters, that wouldn’t be a problem,” Ron argued. “I don’t know why they aren’t rotting in Azkaban.” The boy visibly paled. Pansy began shaking.

Rage crossed Millie’s face as she said, “Because they haven’t done anything wrong. And you, as an Auror trainee, should know that it is our job to protect the innocent. People don’t have to be your version of ‘good’ to deserve Auror protection and you’re going to have to get used to it. You’re not running around as Harry Potter’s vigilante justice league anymore, Ron Weasley.”

“I’m not sitting here for this.” He stood up and started away but he ran into a solid form. The man gave a quiet oof before slapping him on the back.

“Good on ya, lad. These worthless tossers don’t deserve to sit with your kind. They deserve to be dragged out to the back alley.”

Ron suddenly realized they had gathered the eyes of the entire pub, and everyone was staring at the Slytherins now with a look of hatred. The three in the booth seemed to shrink with fear, even Millie, though she had on a brave face. He grit his teeth, knowing what he had to do.

“That’s enough,” he told the man. “They’re protected citizens just like you and I. Why don’t we let them leave?”

The man did a double take, looking to see if Ron was serious. He gave one very steady nod, then looked to Millie. Ron wasn’t entirely sure what his look communicated, his own thoughts were so conflicted, but she suddenly moved, dragging the other two behind her to the floo. They called out “Nott Manor” and were gone, much to Ron’s relief. He didn’t want to ever see any of them again.

“What’d you let’em go for?” the man asked. “You’re a Weasley.”

“I’m also an Auror, and here to make sure everyone is safe, including bloody Slytherins. I may not like them, but they have a right to be here,” Ron said loudly. He wanted to be sure that all the patrons understood. He may not have liked what Millie had to say, but he knew the bitch was right. Now he just had to find a way to live with it.

Chapter 31

Notes:

Thank you for your patience while I finished up Love Fest. I hope to be tossing out chapters a little faster over the next few months as I am planning to focus strictly on WIPs.

Thank you to emilylloo for the use of Emily Shaw, Rjsmith for the use of Renee Smith, and Obsidianphoenix for Rory Jones. More muggleborns to come in future chapters.

Thank you to Lady Winterlight, bondgirltrb, and astrangefan for their help with this chapter!

“Let me help you straighten your tie, Harry,” Hermione chirped, rushing over to him. She was in such a good mood this morning that he almost wanted to ask what she had done the night before. Knowing she had spent the night with Fred, George, and Charlie made him refrain from commenting.

Then again, it might be worth hearing about it just to have the distraction. Harry kept glancing at the clock and trying not to worry. If things with the goblins had turned out okay yesterday, surely a simple meeting with other Lords and Ladies of the lighter Noble Houses would go well.

This would be his first appearance as Lord Potter among peers, though, and he was terrified he was going to mess up. From the look of Bill, he felt much the same, though he gave Harry reassuring smiles anytime they made eye contact. At least he would have Bill’s example to follow.

When they were as well attired as Fleur and Hermione could get them, Harry and Bill went to the Floo and called out for Longbottom Hall. Harry couldn’t help but hope Neville was around for this meeting, too, so he wouldn’t be the only teenager present.

“Greetings, Lords,” piped a squeaky but relatively sedate house elf in a well-pressed pillowcase with the Longbottom insignia embroidered on the front. “I is Holby, distinguished elf of Longbottom Hall. Welcome! You is coming this way.”

Holby led them through a hallway to a drawing room. The whole place was far more ornate than Harry had ever imagined when he thought of Neville. It wasn’t as cold as Malfoy Manor, the decor considerably warmer, but there was still something austere about the place that didn’t fit with his friend.

The drawing room itself was a light, earthy shade of brown, with green accents that did fit Neville a bit more. His Gran with her stuffed vulture hat perched as ever atop her head, was the one who looked out of place in the room. She sat in a wingback chair that faced a sofa and two other chairs in front of the fireplace. Harry noticed that behind this seating arrangement, there was a table for tea with sheafs of parchment laid out at each seat.

“Lady Longbottom,” Bill said, taking her hand and bowing over it like a proper pureblood. It was so foreign to see him do it that Harry almost forgot to repeat the action himself.

“Welcome, Lord Weasley, Lord Potter. You’re the first to arrive,” she greeted. “It is good to see young people so punctual.”

“Of course,” Bill began, but they were interrupted by the arrival of David Abbott and Montgomery Pritchard, two wizards Harry had never met before. He knew David’s daughter, Hannah, of course, but he knew nothing of Lord Pritchard at all.

They repeated the greetings with Lady Longbottom before each settling into one of the chairs, leaving the sofa for Bill and Harry. The older men were making small talk that Harry was having a hard time concentrating on when he heard the Floo one more time. A witch, perhaps Bill’s age, came in, tall and statuesque.

“Ah, Miranda, you’ve decided to join us,” Lady Longbottom observed dryly. Turning to the others, she continued, “This is the Minister’s niece, Miranda Shacklebolt. She’ll be taking the Family Seat while her Uncle is otherwise occupied.”

Harry felt his heart thump as he gazed at the beautiful young woman. She was too old for him, and he was so confused about his feelings toward Hermione and Ginny that he knew he didn’t need any further complications, but Merlin, Harry thought he might have a crush.

“Now that we’ve all arrived,” Lady Longbottom began, “Let us adjourn to the table for tea and to go over some things I have prepared.”

As soon as he was seated, Harry perused the parchments in front of him just as the others were doing. One was a list of buildings and streets and bridges, Harry wasn’t sure, but he suspected these were places that had been damaged by the Death Eaters when he saw that Weasleys Wizard Wheezes was on the list as well as almost every business in Hogsmeade and Hogwarts itself.

Another was a list of food items, though Harry had no idea what for. Bill was nodding, however, so it must mean something to him. There were several others, but the one that made the bottom fall out of Harry’s stomach was the last parchment, with “War Orphans” labeled at the top. It was a list of names and guardians, if they had them.

“As you can see,” Lady Longbottom proceeded, “These are problems our world faces right now, in the aftermath of this war. Once, I would have brought all the families of the Light together to discuss such things, but I believe there are considerably more now than there ever have been before. And we will be relying on these young people to reach out to a great many of them.”

“Why us?” Harry asked before he thought. “I mean, specifically, why Bill and I… and Miranda?”

“I expect the three of you to be leaders amongst the new Houses, especially you, Lord Potter, for obvious reasons. Our whole world is looking to you.”

“Despite their rocky start publicly, House Weasley will be one of your strongest allies and, with ties to the Minister, House Shacklebolt, while historically more neutral, will hopefully have a good relationship with your House as well. It doesn’t hurt that they’re both a bit older and some of the other Houses have no one but teenagers to run them,” Lord Abbott explained kindly. Lady Longbottom sniffed.

“Like House Potter, you mean,” Harry spoke up, despite Bill putting a foot on his to signal him to be quiet.

“Unfortunately, many families on all sides of the spectrum have been reduced to teenagers as the last remaining members. And some of the new Houses, we just don’t know yet who they will send as their Lord or Lady — will it be the oldest member of their House or the teenager who fought and earned the right to a Noble House in the first place? We don’t wish to offend by inviting the wrong person,” Lord Pritchard said.

“We trust that introducing the problems to the three of you will spread the information,” Lady Longbottom explained.

“My wife should be here,” Bill told those assembled.

“I hardly see how a French—” Lord Pritchard started until Lady Longbottom cut him off with a swift silencing spell.

“I believe he means his new wife,” she said with steel in her voice.

Visibly taken aback, Bill didn’t seem to know what to say for a moment, taking a sip of his tea instead. “I did mean Hermione, but I think my Fleur is also very talented and will have lots of ideas about all of this.” He waved the sheaf of parchments, starting to look angry.

“Fleur’s perspective and knowledge of international ways of doing things is likely to be helpful,” Miranda suggested confidently. It was the first thing Harry had heard her say and he was a little bit mesmerized. “But my understanding is that Hermione should be here because of the Muggleborn Coalition she is running.”

“And because she’s bloody brilliant,” Harry burst out, then clamped his mouth shut as he realized how socially inappropriate his statement had been.

To his relief, the three older adults laughed. “She is,” Lady Longbottom agreed, “But she is not yet named as Lady of House Weasley.”

“Is there a procedure for that?” Bill asked in surprise. “Aunt Muriel hasn’t mentioned such a thing.”

“Triads, much less what has happened within your family, are rare, so the circumstances of having two wives and having to choose which is the Lady of the House rarely occurs,” Lord Abbott explained. He seemed to have far more patience than the other two.

“Let’s get to the point of this meeting,” Lady Longbottom directed, picking up the first parchment. “We are facing many challenges and we will need to have a plan of action. There is serious rebuilding to be done throughout our world, much of it businesses and services such as Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts has to be a priority if it’s to open again in the fall,” Lord Pritchard observed. “The businesses should largely be working on themselves.”

“Some are,” Lady Longbottom agreed, smiling at Bill in acknowledgement of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, “but others will require assistance. Either they are financially ruined or their products are destroyed or they simply don’t have the manpower or resources to rebuild or repair.”

“The money to do those things should come from the ones who damaged them,” Miranda declared.

“Reparations from the Death Eaters and families who supported Voldemort would be a good start,” Lord Pritchard agreed, “but some Houses will not vote that way since it will hurt themselves.”

“But will enough agree?” Harry asked. “Isn’t that the important part?”

“It is,” Lady Longbottom agreed. “And I think this will pass easily even with heavy opposition. After the first war, such laws passed without issue and we didn’t have this influx of new Houses then.”

“What can we do about the food shortages?” Bill asked, looking at the second parchment. “So many of our farms were destroyed—”

“Why don’t witches and wizards just buy from the muggle supermarkets?” Harry asked, confused. The purebloods all stared at him. “What?”

“What are these ‘supermarkets’?” Lady Shacklebolt asked, watching him curiously.

It was difficult to speak with her attention on him, but Harry haltingly explained to all of them what a supermarket was and how they existed in most muggle towns. As far as he knew, none of the muggle food supply had been reduced due to the wizarding war. Prices might have increased on some items for reasons the muggles couldn’t explain, but overall their food was unaffected.

“But our house elves couldn’t go there!” Lord Pritchard said.

“No, but the store proprietors in the wizarding world could contact muggle suppliers,” Bill suggested. “Perhaps it will help more witches and wizards understand that muggles are resourceful and not our enemies.”

Everyone nodded with pleasure at that idea. Harry was just grateful that his idea had garnered a solution rather than ridicule. For a moment there, he thought he had crossed some unknown line that even “Light” witches and wizards wouldn’t approve of.

He listened as the older three, with occasional comments from Bill or Miranda, debated inflation, goblin relations, centaur relations, and what to do about the Healer shortages when so many had been killed trying to help during the war. Harry didn’t have a lot to contribute to those topics, but he listened and took notes, hoping it would be enough, along with Bill reporting back, to satisfy Hermione.

When they finally reached the topic of war orphans, Harry was engaged once more, though the sick feeling returned to his stomach. Visions of his cupboard and frying pans swung at his head made this the very most important topic in Harry’s mind.

“There are so many,” Lady Shacklebolt said with horror in her tone.

“There were the first time as well,” Lady Longbottom said. Harry thought of Neville, as good as orphaned, and suspected his Gran was thinking the same.

“What happened to them all?” Harry wondered. He hadn’t met many others.

“Some were sent to relatives overseas. Many grew up in muggle orphanages. Some stayed in the magical community with relatives or neighbors generous enough to take them in. It’s likely what will happen—”

“No,” Harry stated. “These orphans will not be left to fend for themselves. Who checks up on them after they’re placed? Who makes sure they’re being treated well? Muggles have social workers for that, people who come around and make certain that everything is as it should be.”

“Who would do that in our world?” Lady Longbottom huffed.

“The Ministry should have people who do it. Who follow up on child welfare in any case where they might be abused or—”

“Who would dare abuse a magical child?” Lord Pritchard burst out.

Harry felt his throat go dry. He wasn’t about to volunteer information about his own childhood, but… “Tom Riddle — Voldemort — was raised in a muggle orphanage where he was not shown love. We see how that turned out. And there are those who do worse.”

The Lords and Ladies assembled were clearly outraged. “I don’t believe the wizarding world has any equivalent to social workers,” Lady Shacklebolt pointed out.

“Then that needs to change,” Harry stated. This wasn’t something he would accept a simple no on.

“We can introduce legislation if someone draws it up. Perhaps that should be your first bill, Lord Potter,” Lady Longbottom stated.

“Perhaps it should,” he agreed. Hopefully Hermione would help him draft it, as he didn’t have the first clue about how to put together a bill but this one was certainly important enough for him to try.

************

Stretching as she leaned back in her chair, Hermione smiled to herself in the silence of the library. She had seen the boys off to their meeting with the leaders of the Light faction of the Wizengamot, then had a leisurely breakfast with Fleur, laughing and talking before parting ways to come and focus on her research and letter writing in the wizarding segment of the British Library.

Until she met Emery, she hadn’t known this library — or any Muggle library — had a wizarding section. Reaching out to muggleborns, especially ones who had been living mostly in the muggle world for years, was opening Hermione’s eyes to all sorts of ways that the worlds actually crossed.

She was reaching out to even more right now. Emily Shaw, a lawyer who had worked in both the muggle and magical world before the war, was one of the muggleborns Emery had suggested as a potential for the Wizengamot or just for use as a lawyer. Hermione wasn’t certain which she would be more useful for, but they were talking through it.

Renee Smith was certainly getting one of the Wizengamot seats if Hermione had anything to say about it. She had previously been a Diplomatic Ambassador for France until the war made it impossible to remain with the Ministry. Then she had moved to the private sector as an Intercultural Business Consultant, working with Gringotts. Even though she was young, around Bill’s age, she was very accomplished and spoke several languages. She would be a wonderful asset to the Wizengamot.

Hermione’s next letter was to Rory Jones. They were a scientist descended from a Squib of the Welsh Jones line. This fact had made Hermione curious as to how many muggleborns might actually be Squib descendants, but that was rather low on her list of research topics at the moment. Rory wasn’t interested in being a member of the Wizengamot, but they were a good candidate for a muggle studies teacher if Mary changed her mind.

The rest of her letters were to various celebrities she had discovered were muggleborns. They were unlikely to respond, but she couldn’t just ignore them.

Letters complete, Hermione looked at the pile of books she had enjoyed gathering before she sat. They were all about various types of bonding. She was hoping for more guidance on the potion components for the loosening ritual since she still wasn’t sure Snape would actually help them. And because it was interesting. She pulled her notes from the Family Legacies from her bag. She didn’t dare carry the actual Legacies around with her, but her notes would do for this.

By the time Ron’s voice made her jump, several hours had passed. “Oi! You skipped lunch, didn’t you?” he asked without preamble.

“Lunch?” she asked, blinking owlishly.

“Yes. It’s half three. And you haven’t eaten. Lucky for you, Auror training keeps buggered hours. I’ve been at it since two this morning so he finally let us go. I did a quick shower there so we can go grab some food. Come on, I’m starving.”

Ron was talking so fast, Hermione could barely keep up. He knew better than to close the books she was in the middle of, but began putting away the pile of discarded texts.

“I am rather hungry,” she admitted, coming out of her academic fervor. She carefully noted where she had left off and gathered her things as she sent the rest of the books zipping back to their shelves.

As they left the library headed for the nearest cafe, Ron asked, “So is this your life now? Researching when you’re scheduled to and meeting all my siblings’ needs the rest of the time?”

Hermione bristled. The newfound freedom to research felt suddenly less free when he put it like that. “Of course it’s not my whole life, Ronald. It hasn’t even been a month since we were on the run from Voldemort. Nothing is settled about my life yet. And I have lots of things to accomplish with the Muggleborn Coalition and well, everything about our world. But I have to research to get to the first step of the rest.”

Ron, seeming to realize she was angry despite her mostly even tone, ventured, “I didn’t mean there’s anything wrong with what you’re doing. I want the bonds loosened, too. It would be nice to not get turned on for no reason in the middle of bloody training when I’m facing off with the bullfrog.”

“The bullfrog? Tell me you’re not talking about your partner.”

“Can’t do that,” Ron admitted. “Bulstrode, Bullfrog. I thought it was clever.”

“It’s insulting. And you have to work with her for at least the next two years. Can’t you learn to get along with her?”

“Mione, she’s a Slytherin!”

“She was a Slytherin. Now she’s an Auror trainee, just like you are. I thought you were going out for drinks?”

“Yeah, so she would quit being a pest about it,” he answered.

“I guess it didn’t go well?” she asked, trying to mask the disappointment she felt in him.

“That’s one way to put it,” he snorted.

Sighing, she wondered if there was anything she could say to convince Ron. Probably not. He would have to learn on his own — hopefully by being put in his place a few dozen times by Millicent. Well, less times would be nice, but Hermione knew him better than that.

************

This conversation wasn’t going the way Percy had expected. Miss Penny hadn’t chastised him for the mess he was in. She hadn’t told him he was getting in over his head or that he wasn’t ready.

“You’ve been preparing for more than long enough now, Percy. I’m clearing you,” Miss Penny told him.

Blinking at her in shock, Percy said, “You really think I’m ready?”

“I do. And even if I didn’t, your circumstances have changed significantly. At this point, I can’t use you to work over my lighter clients—”

“Of course you can!” Percy protested. “I told you Hermione has agreed to open polyamory for our group.”

“And has the Minister?” Miss Penny asked shrewdly.

“Well, no. We haven’t discussed it. But the oath he wants to take… it will give me leeway—”

“It will, but would he be happy? Would you want to make him unhappy? If you are considering a future with the man, you need to take that into account. Things with your wife are different. Neither of you chose each other, you’re just making the best of it. But if you choose Kingsley, then think about what you are choosing. You owe him that.”

Percy nodded, thinking hard. “I do, but I want to be very clear here. I enjoy the work I do for you, Miss Penny. I’m okay with dropping it for now, but I want you to know that I may come back.”

“I’ll look forward to the day. Understand me very clearly, Perce. You may have to earn your way back in. I’m going to miss you, too.” The look she was giving him left no doubts in his mind what she meant by that.

“And I you,” he agreed. Percy wanted to do the oath with Kingsley, but he was giving up a lot. And, honestly, he was a little bit afraid. This was a very sudden change and the bond magic had a strong hand in moving the emotional side of their relationship along. “What if I do the oath with Kingsley and then we realize it was too soon?”

“You can tell him not yet if that’s the way you feel about it. This is your future you have to be thinking of, Percy. Perhaps you should discuss it with Hermione,” Miss Penny suggested.

“Perhaps I should,” he agreed.

In no time, Percy found himself adjourning from his meeting with Penny and going in search of Hermione instead. He found her where he had expected, at the twins’ flat. It was the closest thing to a home she had right now. Mercifully, Fred and George were downstairs in the shop, both busy with customers. And if he recalled correctly, Charlie was meeting with Professor McGonagall today to inform her that he would be working with Gringotts’ dragons as well as teaching. Ginny was with Fleur, and Bill was at work. It left Hermione quite alone on an afternoon for once.

She greeted him with enthusiasm, “Percy! I feel like I haven’t seen you in days!”

Percy felt it, too, the way he needed to be near her after time spent away. Before he thought the action through, he was already kissing her hard, backing her toward the nearest wall as she kissed him back just as fiercely.

Merlin, he enjoyed the thrill of her interest. Yes, of course Percy wanted to dominate her eventually, but the fact that she was so happy to see him, to touch him, even when compared to his sister and all five brothers, was nothing short of amazing. And for that reason if no other, he was determined to take good care of her.

When he drew back from her, Hermione asked, “What brings you here at this time? I would have expected you to be glued to Kingsley’s side.”

“I usually am, and will be again soon, but I met Miss Penny for my lunch and then I wanted to talk to you,” he explained.

“About what?” she asked, giving him her full attention.

“First of all, has everyone been respecting your time?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I spent the morning and part of the afternoon researching bonds and the potions used for various rituals. It felt lovely to spend time in the library.”

“Good,” Percy told her with a smile. He was genuinely relieved that his siblings had managed to absorb his lessons. “Now comes the harder part. I want to talk to you some more about Kingsley.”

“What about him? You know I approve of you pursuing a relationship with him,” she said, looking puzzled.

“I do. Just… the stakes are rather higher than I expected,” he said, nervously fiddling with his tie. He hated that he did that, but couldn’t seem to stop himself until Hermione’s hand slid into his. She was waiting patiently for him to continue. “Kingsley wants me to take an oath with him, an oath that would bind us together.”

Slowly, answering all her questions, Percy explained about the oath and how serious Kingsley had been and everything it would mean for the two of them as well as what it would mean with her. He felt like he talked for hours even if it was really only about 20 minutes of solid explanation.

Hermione squeezed his hand. “This sounds like a very personal decision, but I understand you want my opinion.” She seemed to contemplate it for a long time. “I think it’s clear that you want this relationship with Kingsley. You could ask him to wait, but it doesn’t sound like he’s inclined to do that. If you’re sure in your feelings — and I think you are — perhaps it’s best to go ahead. It won’t upset me at all, if you’re worried about that.”

Percy blew out a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he would feel. Whether he liked it or not, he had wanted her approval. “It’s good to know,” he conceded. “It will definitely affect my future, which includes you, too, of course.”

“Yes… the future,” Hermione said, sighing.

“Are you having problems with planning the future?” Percy asked, eyebrows raised. Her despondent look was not like her. She always had a plan ready to go.

“I just don’t know what to do, honestly. The Coalition is going to be a big part of my life, obviously. And all of you. Ron made a comment earlier about whether this was what my life was going to look like — assigned research time and then running about meeting all of your needs.”

Percy bristled. That wasn’t going to be her life if he had anything to say about it. “You’re not—”

“I’m not just that. I know,” Hermione said. “But I don’t know how to meet my dreams and still balance everything.”

“What dreams are you worried about?” he asked.

“Well, I know the boys think I’m silly because I could just have whatever Ministry job I want right now, but I want my NEWTs. I want my last year of school. You know Minerva has offered to let us come back for an ‘eighth’ year. I would love to do it, but I don’t see how I can,” Hermione admitted, looking pensive.

Shaking his head, Percy said, “If you want to go back to Hogwarts, we’ll make it work.”

“How can we? The twins need me. Charlie, though he’ll be teaching so I suppose Hogwarts could work for him. But Bill and Fleur. Ron. Even you need me some. Only Ginny’s needs would be met if I go back.”

“And she’ll need you a lot throughout this pregnancy, as a friend as well as more,” Percy pointed out.

“That’s true. And I can hardly just abandon her at the school, even when we get the bonds loosened, but… I don’t know how to get everyone what they need and still move forward with what matters most to me.”

“If it matters the most to you, it matters to all of us,” he declared.

**********

Fred felt himself stiffen at Percy’s last words. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the two had been so deep in conversation that they hadn’t noticed when he returned to the flat. And, well, he had never claimed to be moral about listening in on others.

“Of course Hermione’s happiness matters,” Fred burst out, “but she’s right that Hogwarts just won’t work.”

It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it instantly by the way Hermione gathered herself up. Percy, too, looked livid and Fred didn’t want to be on his older brother’s bad side these days.

Maybe he should have announced himself first. Or maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut entirely and let her logic out that it couldn’t happen. Whatever the case, this hadn’t been the right way.

“Fred, this is important to me,” Hermione stated. “I am going to attend my last year at Hogwarts.”

He could practically see her digging her heels in for this fight, but he wasn’t going to back down. “That’s selfish!” he cried.

“No, you’re being selfish,” Percy yelled back at him. “Hermione has sacrificed so much for all of us, but especially for you. We will give her this.”

“Easy for you to say — you’re not her soulbonded,” Fred said, hoping that rubbing that in might get Percy to understand that things were different for him.

“Which is all the more reason you should be trying—”

“I can speak for myself!” Hermione shouted. More quietly, she said, “Thank you, Percy, but this is my fight to have.” He gave her a little bow and allowed her to go on. “You know what this means to me, Fred. I know you can feel it.”

“Well yeah, but—”

Just then, George burst into the room from downstairs, “What’s wrong? Why are you both so upset? And what’s with all the yelling?”

“Fred doesn’t think I’m allowed to go to Hogwarts,” she explained.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” George asked, confused.

“She doesn’t just mean visit there or go talk to McGonagall or help with rebuilding,” Fred said through gritted teeth. “She means she wants to go back in September. For the whole school year.”

Cocking an eyebrow, George continued to look at him with confusion. “Well of course she does. This is Hermione we’re talking about.”

“Have you thought about what that will mean?” Fred demanded. He couldn’t believe his twin wasn’t catching on.

At that, George paled slightly, but then shook his head. “It will be hard, but we’ll make it work somehow, Freddie. Don’t worry so much.”

He clapped a hand on Fred’s shoulder, but Fred shook it off. “No. This isn’t okay,” he stated. Fred looked at Hermione directly and said, “You can’t go back.”

Immediately, he realized how stupid that had been. Not only did George and Percy look furious, Hermione was so angry her hair was sparking. “Excuse me?” she hissed. “I will be going back and, at this rate, you may not see me the whole bloody time. I certainly won’t be spending time with someone who thinks they get to make my decisions for me!”

“But Hermione—” Fred started, his voice far more of a whine than he wanted it to be.

“No!” she shouted. “You don’t get to whine and cry about how hard I’m making things for you when I’ve given up my whole life so you can be here. I don’t know how it will work, but it will.”

George took a step closer to her, as though he were going to try and console her — Fred knew he could feel the sadness trying to break through her fury — but then seemed to think better of it and stopped. “We’ll talk to the Headmistress,” he said instead. “I’m sure now that she knows about our situation, she’ll work with us to find an answer. There must be something—”

“A house,” Percy said.

“What?” Fred asked.

“We need a home for all of us, together, even if we don’t all live there all the time. But we could find something near Hogwarts and then they — because this affects Charlie and Ginny, too — could easily floo or apparate any time McGonagall allows them to. Maybe they could even spend every night there instead of the tower,” Percy explained.

“That’s genius!” Hermione cried. “But… how will we afford a house?”

“Between all of us, I imagine there’s plenty of money to make it happen,” Percy said. “Though we’ll have to discuss a budget before we start looking.”

“And everyone’s requirements. The place will have to be huge,” George pointed out.

“Surely we don’t need anything too big,” Hermione argued mildly.

“We’ll see,” George said with a lopsided smile. He seemed to be up to something if Fred knew his twin.

He couldn’t focus on that, though. Fred was still too angry. “So that’s it? Everyone has just decided that Hogwarts will work out?”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, beaming at him with a steely look in her eyes. She wanted him to agree as well, but she was ready for a bigger fight.

Admitting defeat was all he could do, no matter how upset it made him. “Fine,” Fred bit out, then stormed from the room. He barely heard them discussing how they needed to call a family meeting.

*************

George apparated to the beach by Shell Cottage. He was excited enough that he considered apparating straight inside, but that was rude. Instead, he made his way to the door and knocked impatiently.

When Charlie answered the door, George grinned at him. “Great, a crowd!” For the house was full — Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Ginny, and Harry. Once he told all of them, the whole family would know except Ron and someone could catch him up to speed.

“What’s this all about?” Bill asked warily.

“We need to call a family meeting,” George said.

Bill nodded. “We were just saying that, but what has you thinking it?”

“Quite a few things, but mostly Hogwarts and a new housing plan,” he explained.

“Housing plan?” Charlie asked while Ginny repeated, “Hogwarts?” with something hopeful in her eyes.

“All shall be revealed tomorrow,” George said in his best showmanship voice. Fred was better at that sort of thing, but George fancied himself as learning to do better. “We can do it tomorrow, can’t we?” he asked Bill, almost dancing with excitement. He had a plan he was keeping secret. He had hoped to share it with Fred but… not while his twin was being a prat.

“Yes,” Bill agreed. “It’s probably best not to wait as we have quite a few things to discuss.”

“Like what?” George asked.

“If I tell everyone now there’s not much point in holding a meeting, is there?” Bill asked in exasperation, sending everyone into laughter. “Besides, if you can keep secrets, so can I. We’ll hold the meeting over breakfast in the morning. Spread the word,” he said.

“Ron may have a hard time making it at that time,” Harry pointed out.

“I’ll check in with him if you’d like?” Charlie suggested.

“Even though it means going to the Burrow?” George asked in surprise.

Charlie nodded. “I want to tell Mum what I’m doing now. I hope it will make her a little happier, knowing I’m not going back to Romania.”

“Why you care what she thinks is beyond me,” Ginny said with a huff.

Looking at her softly, Charlie said, “I think for some of us, it would be good if she would make amends. But you know how stubborn she is. I won’t tolerate her saying awful things about any of us, but I’m willing to offer an olive branch.”

“I’ll come with you,” Bill offered. “I need to discuss some things with her and Aunt Muriel anyway.”

“Better you than me,” Ginny muttered.

“You sleeping here or at the flat tonight, Gin?” George asked.

“She eez staying with us,” Fleur answered, her look at Ginny rather protective. George could see that his sister had been crying again. This pregnancy was making her cry at the drop of a hat. It was bizarre to see.

“Just you and me left, Harry. Would you mind if I come over to Grimmauld for a bit?”

Harry blinked at him in surprise, then narrowed his eyes. “Against my better judgment of letting a Weasley twin into my house, yes, of course.”

George laughed. They were soon flooing into the drawing room of Grimmauld, Harry just ahead of him.

“Would you like some tea?” Harry asked easily.

“No, I brought some firewhisky so we can drink to the deal… if we make it.”

“A deal with a Weasley twin? I might be getting in over my head,” Harry joked, but his eyebrows were raised in interest.

“Come now, Harry my boy,” George said, “You’ve dealt with us before. Have we ever led you astray?”

“Well no, but you must admit you come with a bit of a reputation,” he answered.

“We do,” George agreed. “Listen, I have a proposal. You’re our financial backer for the shop, you know.”

“Has it not been going well?” Harry asked with sudden worry.

“No, it’s splendid. But… I’ve been looking at housing possibilities since our last family meeting. And,” George paused, licking his lips nervously, “other possibilities.”

“Other—” Harry began, but George was too excited to let him get the question out.

“I found out that Zonko’s is selling. They can’t recover and Mr. Zonko just wants to take his family and leave the area,” George explained.

“Well that’s,” Harry paused and George saw the moment he understood, “That’s great! You want to expand the shop?”

“I do, and I’m sure Fred will be on board, too.”

“You haven’t talked to him about it?” Harry asked in surprise.

George bit his lip. “No. Things have been a bit busy and tense. We’ve talked about expanding before, but not since I found out Zonko’s is up for sale.”

“So you need my help? Even with the profits you have made?” Harry asked with a puzzled expression.

“Yes,” George said, “but only because of the house.”

“The house?”

Nodding, George began to explain. “Our family needs a home base. It needs to be near Hogwarts and large enough for everyone — including you, by the way — so it’s going to cost a pretty penny. Freddie and I need to contribute what we have, which is less than it would have been without the war, to that. But I hate to pass up this opportunity.”

Harry grinned at him. “I’ll be glad to help!”

“Merlin, thank you!” George said, grabbing Harry’s hand and giving it a good long shake — maybe too long as Harry’s eyes suddenly flicked to his with a look George never would have expected there. Then it was gone, leaving George to wonder if he had imagined the flare of interest. He must have. They were supposed to be magically brothers, after all.

“Let’s drink to this,” George suggested.

By the time he made it back to the flat, George was more than tipsy. He stumbled into the sitting room, surprised to find Hermione still up, reading a book. “What are you doing here?” he managed.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Reading,” she deadpanned before smiling, “And waiting for you. Fred’s gone off somewhere to be cross and I didn’t fancy going to bed alone.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised she wouldn’t want to bask in the bed alone.

“I’m afraid I’ve already become quite addicted to snuggling next to someone.”

“And I’m your someone tonight,” George surmised happily. “Just me.”

“Yes, just you,” Hermione eyed him appreciatively.

“I might need a Sober Up for this,” he noted.

With a laugh, she headed for the kitchen, for the potions rack. Sober Up was a potion they had stayed well supplied on even as bachelors.

When he had downed the potion, George looked at Hermione with a matching heat in his eyes. “Now, what shall we do to get you into bed?” he asked before tossing her bodily over his shoulder, making her squeal.

“Put me down, you Neaderthal!” Hermione shouted. George wasn’t sure what that was, but he laughed anyway. She was so cute when she started calling names.

He ran with her into the bedroom and crashed onto the bed, half flinging her so that he landed mostly on top of her. Before she could protest through her giggles, George was kissing her.

Not knowing when Fred might return, George was in no mood to take this slow and give him the opportunity to barge in. They didn’t have opportunities alone very often and he wanted this. So their kiss was teeth and wild tongues and pressing their lips hard enough to bruise. He loved every second of it.

Their hands were just as frantic. Hermione yanked his t-shirt up over his head so that she could get to all his heated, freckle-covered skin. George ripped her sleeve in the process of doing the same.

“Sorry,” he gasped as he pulled the shirt over her head. Hermione responded with “fix it later,” and then captured his mouth again.

George felt like he had never been this wholly consumed by a woman before, by anyone actually. He wanted to be inside her right this moment, but of course he wanted her to enjoy herself first, too.

His hands slid her trousers down over her hips, letting her shimmy the rest of the way out of them — knickers too — before absolutely attacking her, pushing her back down on the bed and burying his face in her pussy. “Merlin, you smell amazing,” he murmured, his hot breath blowing across Hermione’s skin and making her shiver. “Taste amazing, too.”

“And you feel amazing,” Hermione whimpered. “Merlin, George. Oh, George.” She came apart for him so fast he didn’t have time to adequately prepare for her body bucking under him, smashing into his nose.

Thank Merlin it didn’t break, just hurt like bloody hell. Worth it, though. George couldn’t stop grinning as he moved back up to kiss her face.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Hermione apologized, pulling away from him to cast a spell to stop his nosebleed and clean him up. “I don’t know my own strength when you drive me wild like that.”

“I solemnly swear I don’t mind,” George declared.

Hermione laughed, then gasped with pleasure when she realized George had just lined himself up with her entrance and was pushing himself inside.

“Sorry I’m not taking it soft and slow tonight,” he apologized between kisses.

“This is exactly what I want,” she assured him, kissing back just as passionately even as she panted.

Her legs were wrapped around him. George felt like she was pulling him closer to her, helping him sink his cock inside her body. He backed off for one moment to cast a contraceptive charm, then asked, “Are you ready for me to take you?”

“Merlin, yes!” she cried.

George needed no further encouragement. He began to move, pushing rapidly in and out, his hands helping to pump her body, using her arse cheeks like handles. She would have bruises tomorrow, but he could magic them away if she didn’t like them.

He wasn’t sure what had come over him, but George quite looked forward to seeing his handiwork on her, secretly hoping she wouldn’t ask to hide the evidence that they had been together.

She was crying out his name again, over and over as her body squeezed around him. George wasn’t sure how he was still going. He felt like he could explode any second, but he was holding back. He hadn’t played with her clit yet, and he knew that would give her a far better orgasm.

Waiting for her to come down from this one was such delightful torture, especially when he slowed down his frantic pace, letting her slide on and off of him in a leisurely way. George readjusted their positions so that she was on top of him, giving him the best possible view of her tits and granting access to her swollen clit.

It also meant he could watch as she sank down on his cock, which she was now doing with abandon. Her breasts bounced above him as he reached down and began manipulating her, making her moan. He thrust his hips upward, meeting her as she came down and bottoming out inside her. Hermione cried out, her nails raking his chest.

Then suddenly she had him in a vice grip as she came again, this time milking George to completion as well. They screamed together and he felt the blast of magic explode from them, undoubtedly hitting everyone else hard. George grinned even as he tried to catch his breath. This night just kept getting better.

And tomorrow, well, after they fell asleep in each other’s arms, they could wake up together and tackle the family meeting where he would share all his ideas. Under other circumstances, he might have said he couldn’t wait. But he could wait forever if he got to be with Hermione like this while he waited.

Chapter 32

Notes:

This is a shorter chapter but one that accomplishes a lot. Big things will be happening in the coming chapters, but I didn't want to get into them in this one because that would make the chapter too long. LOL

Thank you to Lady Winterlight, bondgirltrb, and astrangefan for all the hard work they do on this fic!

Probably Fred, Bill surmised as he tucked his wand away after the initial scramble to figure out who had apparated onto their beach at such an hour. It was definitely one of the twins kicking along the water’s edge looking angry, and George had been in a grand mood when he left.

For a moment, he seriously considered just going back to bed, pulling Fleur close, and letting his brother work out his own problems. But Bill couldn’t do it. Whatever soul searching Fred needed to do, he had come here to do it, meaning he needed some guidance, too.

Moving quietly out of the bedroom, Bill headed down to the beach, letting the front door bump against the doorjamb noisily so he wouldn’t startle Fred too much. He hadn’t bothered to change clothes or put on shoes, so the sand felt good between his toes as he headed out to the place Fred had plopped down.

Bill felt old as he eased himself to the ground and felt his knees creak. He didn’t have to go through the werewolf transformation, but the closer it got to a full moon, the more his body ached. “It’s peaceful out here,” he commented.

Fred gave a predictable huff. He had always been a stubborn one.

Continuing when Fred didn’t say anything, Bill ventured, “It’s a good place to come when you’re not feeling peaceful inside.”

“If you’re just going to spout nonsense like that, go back to your wife,” Fred grumbled.

“And leave you out here brooding? I would never hear the end of it in the morning,” Bill said.

He imagined if he did leave his younger brother out here, Fred would probably get tired and go home eventually, but who knew what that would do to whatever balance had been achieved at the flat for the night? Merlin, he hated that they were all so separated. George was right that having a home all together was needed more than Bill had wanted to admit.

There was silence between the two for a few moments. Perhaps Fred truly thought he would leave him there. Finally, Fred burst out, “It just won’t work!”

“What won’t work?” Bill asked.

“Hogwarts. Hermione thinks she’s going back in September and it’s stupid.”

Bill tried not to reel back in shock. He knew George had said his twin was being a prat, but this was beyond the pale. “Are you seriously trying to tell me you think it’s stupid for Hermione Granger to want to finish her schooling?”

The sound that Fred issued was something between a growl and a scream of rage. “Of course it’s not stupid for her to want to. It’s just stupid to think that she can.”

Silence reigned for a moment as Bill considered the best way to respond. “Tell me why she can’t.”

Fred glared over at him and Bill realized his brother was close to tears. “There’s already not enough time for all of us! I need her, more time than we’re getting right now, but she’s trying to make everyone equal. It bloody well hurts. And that’s with her living mostly with Georgie and I. What’s going to happen if she’s trapped inside a school for months on end while we’re busy with the shop? I’ll go bloody mad.”

“So you feel like you aren’t having enough time with her now?” Bill asked, making sure he understood.

“No! Are you?” Fred demanded.

There wasn’t any arguing with that. Bill shook his head. “No, but it’s not unbearable.”

“Well for me it is. The binding was different with us, maybe even different for me than it is for George. He certainly doesn’t seem as affected,” Fred noted bitterly.

“Or maybe he’s working harder to meet Hermione’s needs so that his needs get met more regularly,” Bill said, knowing it would likely make Fred blow up.

It did, of course. “And I’m not working on it?” he raged. “You think I’m the one being selfish all the bloody time, too, don’t you?”

“I never said that, Fred,” Bill said.

“You don’t have to,” Fred exploded. “Everyone thinks it. I nearly died so this whole thing is my fault so I’m supposed to just be happy with whatever scraps of time Hermione has for me. I didn’t ask for this, Bill! I didn’t ask for any of it!” Despite his angry tone, there were tears spilling down Fred’s cheeks that Bill knew weren’t from anger.

“Would you rather we had let you go?” Bill asked quietly.

“Yes!” Fred yelled at him, pulling his legs up in front of him and burying his head in his crossed arms on his knees. “No, I don’t mean that,” he said after a moment. “But it feels like everyone would be better off.”

“Fred, no one would be better off without you. You’re part of the life of this family, the fun and joy and laughter—”

“You would still have had George if he hadn’t tied himself to me,” Fred sniffled.

Bill shook his head even though Fred wasn’t looking. “Do you really think George would have been okay without you? That he wouldn’t have been broken beyond repair?”

“He would have been fine with some time,” Fred said stubbornly.

“Would he?” Bill asked. “You’re his other half. Would you have wanted to go on, if the situation were reversed?”

Fred sobbed, his shoulders shaking. Bill reached over and put a hand on his back, knowing Fred was unlikely to accept more comfort than that.

When Fred got enough control of himself to speak, his voice was broken. “I don’t… I can’t imagine life without George. But Merlin, I can’t stand how much pressure there is now, how much everyone expects me to be grateful and giving and somehow still be my normal self. I’m not the same. None of us are! We just went through a bloody war, Bill.”

“I know. I know we did. You’re right that we’re not the same. Honestly, Fred, we’re all struggling, but I didn’t realize just how much you’ve been holding in.”

“I can’t very well go about complaining when you all did so much to save me,” Fred said.

Bill nodded slowly. He understood why his brother would feel that way. “You can always talk to me. If you don’t feel safe sharing with anyone else. I’ll never condemn you for it.”

With a soft snort, Fred shook his head. “You have so much going on already—”

“But you’re my brother and you’re important, too. There’s no point to me learning all this Lordship stuff if I can’t hold the family together, which means every individual, too. You don’t have to come to me, but I’m always here,” Bill offered.

For a long moment, they were both quiet. Then Fred asked, “How do you feel about Hermione? Honestly.”

Bill groaned. “You’re not going to hold back, are you?”

“You did just invite me to come to you with anything,” Fred said with a ghost of a smirk.

“I don’t know,” he said, pondering seriously. “She’s brilliant and beautiful and just wonderful. I have strong feelings toward her thanks to the bond. It’s like I love her, but it’s not quite the same as the way I love Fleur.” Bill rushed to add, “I don’t mean that as a slight toward Hermione. Just… I didn’t choose her the way I chose Fleur, no matter how connected we are now.”

“Do you think most of you feel that way?” Fred wanted to know.

“Maybe,” Bill said. “It’s hard to say since I was the only one married before. Charlie certainly has a deeper attachment.”

“And George,” Fred said, nodding, “even though he didn’t before.”

“Well, for the two of you, a soulbond has to invoke deeper feelings—”

“I fancied her, did you know?” Fred asked.

“Before this happened?” Bill asked, surprised.

Fred nodded. “I feel childish for not wanting to share her, but I had wanted to ask her out for years. I didn’t, because of Ron. And now I feel like I’m behaving the way he would have—”

Gasping, Bill blinked as he began to understand. “Ron gave up his feelings — sacrificed them to save you. I wonder if some of those emotions are affecting you now.”

Fred stared at him. “You think so? I’ve felt so out of control.” He sounded hopeful for the first time in the conversation.

“It could be,” Bill said, thinking about how much sense that made. “But you’re still responsible for the way you’ve been behaving.”

Fred hung his head. “I know. I’ll try to do better.”

“Good. You’ve been holding onto this for too long,” Bill told him.

“Do you think this ritual to loosen the bonds will help?” Fred asked.

Bill honestly had no idea, but he nodded anyway. “We can talk to Hermione about it, but I would hope so.”

“I don’t know if I want us to talk to her. I feel like a complete git.”

“That’s because you’ve been one,” Bill said, shoving his little brother at the shoulder.

“Oi! That’s just not nice!” Fred groused, flinging sand at Bill.

Before long, the two were tussling on the beach, rolling in the sand as they wrestled.

“Are you boys ever coming een?” Fleur’s exasperated voice spoke from above them.

“Fleur!” Bill cried in surprise. “We didn’t mean to wake you, love.”

“With all ze shouting? You are lucky you deed not wake up your sister. She would ‘ave beat you both.”

Fred and Bill chuckled. “That’s probably true,” Bill said ruefully.

“You weel ‘ave to wash ze sand off outside!” Fleur said as she turned and headed back to the house. Bill laughed at that. His wife was right — they were both covered.

“Come on in. You can sleep here tonight,” Bill suggested.

“No, I’ll go home and apologize—” Fred started, then lost his train of thought as a wave of magic threw both of them back to the ground, an intense orgasm making them both cry out. When he had caught his breath, Fred gritted his teeth and said, “Then again, it appears George has benefited from my absence and sleeping here might be for the best.”

Bill hesitated. “Are you okay with that?”

For a long moment, Fred thought about it, different emotions flitting across his face. “Yes,” he finally decided. “I don’t deserve a night with them after the way I’ve behaved, and Georgie rarely gets time for himself. I can apologize in the morning.”

Together, the two brothers made their way back to the house. Bill felt like they had gotten somewhere, and he hoped Fred felt the same.

************

Ginny watched blearily from her spot at the dining table as everyone slowly gathered for the family meeting. Why they had to have it at breakfast, she had no idea. She could have slept in if they had done this at dinner instead. Sipping her tea, she tried hard to keep her mouth shut. No one else seemed grumpy about being here.

Charlie sat down next to her with a steaming cup of coffee. Ginny wrinkled her nose at the smell. That stuff was repulsive. She felt her stomach churn and hoped she wouldn’t have to run for the loo again. She had already been sick once this morning. It felt like it would never end.

“You okay?” he asked.

“The smell of that sludge is killing me,” she grumbled.

Grinning, Charlie took a sip, showing extreme satisfaction in the taste, but Ginny noticed that he sat it down as far from her as possible. “So do you have anything for this meeting?” he asked her.

“I just want to hear about Hermione and Hogwarts,” she admitted quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear.

“Me too,” Charlie admitted. It had been a source of comfort for her since he got hired — that she wouldn’t be at Hogwarts completely alone. It would be a thousand times better for both of them if Hermione were going to be there, too. It would be hard on the others. Ginny could see that. But selfishly, she didn’t really care or feel a bit guilty for not caring. She had needs too and they were often ignored.

Across the room, Hermione and George had just arrived, joining Bill, Percy, Harry, and Fred at the other end of the table. Fleur was busy with the delectable baking she had insisted on doing this morning and Ron was at training, so this was all of them. If they got started and finished soon enough, maybe she could go back to bed.

Fred high-fived his twin before drawing Hermione away for what looked like a very serious conversation. Ginny couldn’t help but be irritated by the delay even if she could tell it was important from the expressions on their faces.

“He owed her an apology, I expect,” Charlie commented softly.

“What for?” Ginny asked. She had been surprised to see Fred here this morning, having thought he was part of the explosive bondgasm that woke her last night.

“No idea,” Charlie shrugged, “but he’s been a real prat lately, so I’m sure there was something.”

Ginny nodded, unable to argue with that. She went back to nursing her tea.

When Fred and Hermione finally returned hand in hand, everyone sat and Bill finally stood up to start the meeting.

*************

Percy was agitated. He understood from Bill’s whispered explanation that Fred had apologizing to do and that getting it out first would make everything else run more smoothly. He certainly approved of the git apologizing when he had behaved so poorly yesterday. But he was going to be late for work if this meeting went half as long as he suspected it would.

Not that Kingsley would be angry, but Percy hated being late, especially when the Minister needed him so much. They had bills to go over for the upcoming Wizengamot session, meetings to prepare for and attend, and hopefully some time for themselves.

“I’m calling this meeting to order,” Bill announced. “We’ve a lot to cover.” Looking at George and Fred, whose heads were bent together as George whispered frantically, Bill cleared his throat. “That means you two as well.”

“Sorry,” George said. “Had to catch Freddie up on a couple of things I’ve got to bring to the table.”

“Let me guess,” Bill said, “You’d like to go first?”

“Or last. I think it’s one of the most important things for us to discuss today.”

Bill raised an eyebrow at George, practically bouncing in his seat, then grinned. “All right. Last it is.” George pouted, but gave a nod.

“I think first we should have everyone report in about the different meetings they’ve been attending and—”

Percy couldn’t help it. He cut Bill off. “I do have to get to work. And I think I’ve been informed about the meetings already. Could those updates come after the new items?”

Giving him a patented oldest brother look, Bill sighed. “Yes, fine. Though I have one thing that’s an announcement of my own. Harry and I are each working on our first bills for the Wizengamot. Harry’s is about the welfare of war orphans, as I’m sure you’ve all heard by now.” He smiled at the younger man as he said it.

Percy nodded impatiently, seeing others around the table nodding as well. Harry had been asking for advice already and Percy was pleased to provide it. Still, it wasn’t something that had to be brought up at a family meeting.

“My own bill is going to be about werewolf rights. I have a lot of things I want to do for them. And I want to name it in Remus’ honor.”

“Of course, Bill, that’s wonderful,” Hermione gushed.

Trying not to feel slighted by the fact that Hermione had barely said hello to him this morning, much less beamed at him like that, Percy took a sip of tea and gave his older brother a polite nod of approval. He wasn’t sure if they could push werewolf rights through the Wizengamot, even in the current political climate, but it was worth trying. He certainly wasn’t going to claim that it wouldn’t work when it meant so much to the people at this table.

“I’m proud that you and Harry are taking your Lordships so seriously,” Percy said instead.

“We are. Our world needs leadership and this is where we find ourselves. Which brings me to another point. We have two seats — Weasley and Prewett. We can claim both or let the Prewett seat go and hopefully Kingsley would fill it with another worthy family, but we would no longer have control of it,” Bill explained.

“When did this possibility come about?” Percy asked sharply. He had heard nothing about this.

“Mum and Aunt Muriel brought it up last night. They were concerned that if I don’t name one of you to take the Prewett seat soon, Kingsley will be forced to take it.”

Percy contemplated it aloud. “It can’t be me. I already work in an official capacity with the Wizengamot. Charlie could—”

“Charlie doesn’t want it,” Charlie said firmly.

Nodding to him, Percy went on. “It could be one of the twins. Traditionally the Prewett seat was always filled by a twin.”

“Really?” Fred asked, looking more interested than he had a moment ago.

“Really,” Bill agreed, “but it’s something you would need to take very seriously.”

There was a brief conversation back and forth between Fred and George, judging from the way they were looking at one another before Fred said, “We can be serious, but we would have to think about it.”

“Another possibility,” Percy mused, “would be to take the Prewett seat yourself and give the Weasley seat to Hermione.”

Hermione gasped at that. “I hadn’t considered I might be eligible.” Her eyes were shining, but then she bit her lip. “I’m not sure how that would work though with what I’m going to be doing.”

“As our wife, you would certainly be able to take the Weasley seat,” Bill confirmed, “but we won’t force you into it. We don’t have to decide today, but it needed to be brought up.”

“Or, Hermione could take the Potter seat as my sister or ward or whatever she is,” Harry said unexpectedly. “If you have to seat different people, then I’ll need to as well.”

Bill groaned. “Yours will be even harder to figure out since we don’t want it to muddy the bonds any further. And we have to make decisions soon as the first Wizengamot session will commence in three days.”

“Maybe I should let the Black seat go,” Harry said gravely.

“Wouldn’t that just burn the pureblood contingent?” Fred snickered.

“We’ll see. I’ll try to help you figure it out, Harry. For right now, we need to move on,” Bill said.

Everyone indicated their understanding and Percy breathed a sigh of relief when Bill ceded the floor to Hermione for the next announcement.

“I will be attending Hogwarts in the fall,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument. Percy was proud of her.

He was even more proud of the family when everyone — even Fred — clapped for her. Charlie and Ginny were beaming, of course, since it meant they would see her every day. George, oddly, was as well. Fred looked resigned and managed a smile for Hermione when she glanced nervously at him. Percy was surprised by how sad Fleur looked, but she clapped anyway so it didn’t matter.

“No one wants to argue?” Hermione asked, half jokingly and half ready to fight.

Bill smiled at her disarmingly. “It’s only right for you to finish your education if that’s what you want. Since it is, we are going to make it happen for you.”

“Starting with the need to rebuild,” Charlie said. When I saw Minerva we were talking about the state of the school. It still needs a lot of work.”

“We’ll be happy to work on it—” Fred started.

“—when we can,” George finished.

“I’ve volunteered to spend my days there except when I’m working with the dragons,” Charlie explained. “They need as many strong arms as possible.”

“Well that’s definitely you,” Hermione said with a smile. “I’ll help, too. And I’m sure Harry and Ron will when they have a spare minute.”

“I guess I can’t do much,” Ginny pouted. “But I could bring food and stuff.” Her brothers looked at each other. Ginny was not known for good cooking, but no one was brave enough to say so. Giving an exasperated huff, she added, “I meant take out or those round muggle things.”

“Pizza?” Hermione asked with a laugh.

“Yeah, that,” Ginny said. “I could bring pizza every day.”

“That would get expensive quickly,” Percy noted.

“Well I can’t very well go ask Mum to cook something up, can I?” Ginny asked, starting to look upset.

“Maybe Percy and I could help you cook things some nights to take the next day,” Charlie suggested. “Or you could make salad or sandwiches.”

“Not as good as that pizza stuff, but that would be great,” Ginny said, smiling at her favorite big brother.

“Everyone will be grateful for food,” Bill encouraged. “I’ll come help after my shifts, too. I imagine they have bigger crews in the evenings.”

“They do,” Charlie confirmed. “It’ll take that to have the school open by September.”

“Which brings us back to Hermione and Gin’s education,” Percy reminded.

“We’re going to have to announce the pregnancy soon so the storm is mostly over by the time you get to school,” Bill started to explain.

“Or we could let it happen once I get there and get bigger,” Ginny argued. “I have dealt with controversy at school before. I can take it.”

“But we wouldn’t be there to help,” George said.

“And we want to help,” Fred added, looking like he might be thinking of pounding people into the ground.

“You’ll still be seeing me,” Ginny said stubbornly. “We have to work something out to be together sometimes,” she pointed out, looking to Hermione.

“That’s true,” Hermione began, “but we still don’t know if Minerva will allow us to leave the premises.”

“She will,” Charlie said confidently. “We’ve already discussed it a little. It just can’t be too far away and I or another Professor have to be there since you still technically are students.”

“Really?” Hermione’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful. But how will we be able to stay close when everyone is here in London?”

“That’s where my plan and I come in,” George interrupted. Fred was smiling beside him.

*********

George was practically vibrating with the excitement of explaining. “We need a home for all of us,” he announced. “I know most of you realize this fact already, but I’ve been scouting out properties for a few weeks now. I believe it would be in our best interest to purchase something in the Hogsmeade area.”

“Won’t that be terribly inconvenient for you and Fred with the shop in Diagon?” Hermione asked.

“Well it might be — if that were the only thing we’re purchasing,” Fred informed everyone with a grin.

George sent a slightly irritated look his twin’s way — this was his big reveal, after all — then continued. “Freddie and I have talked to our financial backer and we’ll be expanding into Hogsmeade, leaving the Diagon shop in Lee and Verity’s capable hands.”

“Won’t that put you in direct rivalry with Zonko’s?” Bill asked in surprise. “I thought you were going to talk to him about carrying some of your products.”

“I did talk to him,” George agreed, grinning more broadly, “but he told me he doesn’t have it in him to open back up again and he wants to sell the place. To us.”

“What about Bill and Fleur and Percy working in London?” Hermione wanted to know.

“You remember you’re a witch, don’t you?” George asked back, trying hard not to roll his eyes at the way others were nodding or looking concerned. “They can floo or apparate.”

“So you’ve gone and picked a house for us?” Percy asked, looking irritated.

“Of course not,” George defended. “No one has had time to give their requirements or anything yet. I’ve only been keeping tabs on the market.”

“And so we happen to know there are a lot of places for sale in the Hogsmeade area — people wanting to put distance between themselves and memories of the war,” Fred explained.

“Won’t that put us in the way of memories of the war?” Charlie asked, looking at Fred and Hermione particularly with concern.

“For us it will be a new start,” George said confidently.

Bill added, “If a place was clearly the location of an attack, we can stay away from it.”

“We need to all think about what we each need,” George said. “I believe we will need at least ten bedrooms.”

“What?” everyone exclaimed.

“There are seven of us, plus a room just for Hermione, a room for Harry, and a room for the baby.”

“You and I will share,” Fred pointed out, “so that’s one less.”

Very solemnly, George said, “Sometimes it’s nice for us to have a little extra space if we want to get away. And if not, well, we need to have space for little ones in the future. This won’t be the only, well, I hope… someday there will be other babies joining us.”

Hermione blushed and Fleur smiled. Ginny snickered, “Not from me.”

“Zere weel be plenty of time to see ‘ow things turn out. And maybe a need for more rooms, oui?”

“What for?” Fred asked.

“More babies, you prat,” George answered. “It’s why I said at least ten. It’s not an unreasonable number of bedrooms considering how many of us there are.”

“How can we possibly afford a house with ten bedrooms?” Hermione asked, shaking her head.

“However much I don’t want to work there anymore, Gringotts has paid us well, especially as things got more dangerous through the war. I would almost say that the goblins had been generous to us until the dragon incident,” Bill said.\

“Fred and I have quite a bit set aside for this. Not as much as we would have had without the war, but it’s a nice chunk.”

“Won’t you need that to buy Zonko’s?” Bill asked.

“No,” Fred took over the explanation. “Our investor knows this money is separate from what we use to run the shop — shops — so it isn’t expected that we will be contributing much of our own money to it.”

Percy frowned. “That’s a very careless investor to not require you to put your own—”

“It’s a generous one, not careless,” Fred corrected.

Before they could get into a fight about it, Charlie said, “Dragon handlers are well paid. And living on the Sanctuary, I’ve never needed to spend much. When I first started, I tried to send money home, but Mum and Dad sent it back. So I just started saving it. It’ll be a nice nest egg for this.”

“Since you started?” Bill asked.

“That’s eight years of pay,” Percy said.

“I’ve spent a bit here and there,” Charlie said with a shrug. “There just wasn’t much to buy when all my needs were already being met.”

“Well, I don’t have that kind of contribution, but I will be able to help,” Percy said, straightening his tie. “I want to do whatever I can to take care of you,” he told Hermione directly.

George grimaced at the way she nearly swooned when Percy turned that look on her. He decided it was time to move past the talk of money since he was already confident they would have plenty for a downpayment and perhaps to buy the whole thing. “We’ll need a library, of course,” he said.

“You want a library?” Hermione gasped.

“Well, I do enjoy a good read now and then, and Freddie and I often have research to do, but I was thinking if we don’t have a library, you’ll be filling every nook and cranny with stacks of books,” George teased.

“I probably would,” she agreed with a laugh. Hermione was beaming now as she clearly began thinking about having a library of her own.

“We’ll need a potions lab,” Fred suggested.

“A lovely garden,” Fleur said with a smile as though she could already envision it, “And a large greenhouse for ze ‘erbs and potion ingredients.

“I would like… some kind of creatures. Maybe a barn for Abraxans or at least a coop for chickens or something,” Charlie said wistfully. No one argued since what they all knew he really meant was that he wished for dragons. George dutifully added it to the list he was writing out.

“We should have a Circle somewhere on the property,” Hermione spoke up. “If not one already made, a place where we can create one. So it needs leylines under the property.”

George blinked at her, but nodded. Maybe they wouldn’t have enough money to put down. Or maybe they would get lucky. There were a lot of leylines in the area, whether they existed because of Hogwarts or Hogwarts was placed in its location because of them was hard to say, but they definitely existed.

“A Quidditch pitch,” Ginny suggested. When they all stared at her, she rolled her eyes. “We at least need a place to play pick-up. And if I’m going to train properly after the baby, I may need a full field. Maybe we just need a lot of land.”

“And a bit of water,” Fleur said. “I weel miss ze sea.”

“We’ll still have Shell Cottage,” Bill assured her. “It will be like a vacation home we can come to when we need space.”

“Oh, I can’t wait!” Fred cried gleefully.

“Not for you,” Bill said in exasperation.

Fred’s gleeful expression said he was well aware, but the words that came from his mouth were, “Your own brother, tossed out on the streets.” Rolling his eyes, Bill swatted at the back of Fred’s head, but laughed when Fred dodged.

“Ron could probably use somewhere to duel,” Harry suggested.

“And what about you?” Ginny prompted.

“It’s not really my house—” Harry started.

“If you think we’re going to let you out of living with us, you’re very wrong,” Fred told him, ruffling Harry’s unruly hair and making him laugh.

“I will need a study,” Percy stated. “There should probably be one for Bill, as well.”

“Or one very large one with separate areas?” Hermione suggested. “Harry and I will need space, too, and probably others at times.”

“That could work if it had to,” Bill agreed, though Percy’s thin-lipped glare said it would not. “Can anyone else think of something vital?”

“We’ll have to have a working floo, but we can always add that if we need to,” George said.

“This will be really different from the Burrow,” Ginny said. “Even though it’s going to be huge, I still want it to feel like a home.”

“I think that’s something we can all agree on,” George told her, looking around at everyone.

************

In her excitement about Hogwarts and the possibility of a house together, Hermione had nearly forgotten they were going to report on their various meetings as well.

“I have to be going,” Percy said. “Kingsley needs me.” He walked around the table and leaned down to give Hermione a kiss that left her heart hammering and her breath short. Then he was gone. She absolutely had to find some way to get back at him for doing that all the time. A fact that made her realize they had forgotten something. She caught his shirtsleeve.

“Not yet. We haven’t discussed the schedule,” Hermione said. As much as she hated making it, she had to admit it saved a lot of stress and jealousy later on. “I haven’t had one on one time lately with Bill and Fleur, or Charlie, or you, Percy.”

“But—” Fred started, but stopped himself before George could even glare at him Hermione noticed. Perhaps he had been sincere in his apology earlier and the promise to do better.

Saving him from having to argue, Hermione stated, “The twins will be interspersed, of course, because of the bond with them. Hopefully we’ll be able to do the ritual soon and all of this can be easier.”

Everyone nodded in agreement before Percy said, “I would like to request that I go last in the line-up you mentioned. I have some… other things to attend to first.” Hermione knew he meant Kingsley, so she nodded her agreement.

“And although it hasn’t been just the two of us, I’ve spent time with you lately,” Charlie acknowledged. She could tell he would rather have had her sooner, but he offered, “Why don’t you spend tonight with Bill and Fleur?”

Hermione looked to the couple in question and they both gave her excited smiles.

“That’s sorted then,” Percy said. “By then, we will have had another family meeting and can figure out the next bit. Now I really have to go.” He leaned down for another kiss, but this one was just a peck. He must actually be late now.

As Percy rushed to the floo, Bill cleared his throat and began his overview of what had happened since the last meeting.

“Charlie and I went to visit Mum and Aunt Muriel last night. I needed their guidance on my new bill, though they were both less than helpful.”

“Why?” Hermione demanded, fearing that she knew exactly why.

Looking angry, Bill nodded in acknowledgment that she was right. “They don’t approve of werewolf rights. Aunt Muriel said she’ll vote against it and she expects most of the others will, too. I’m still going to try.”

“That’s disgusting,” Harry burst out, unable to hold in the anger he felt.

“It is,” Bill agreed. “But I knew it was going to be an uphill battle.”

“One I’m going to fight with you,” Harry declared.

“I know you will,” Bill said with a small smile. “Just as I will be fighting for your orphans.”

“That one won’t be hard to pass, though,” Ginny spoke up.

“You would be surprised,” Bill said, shaking his head again. “Some of the things Harry wants to do are quite progressive.”

“Was that all you talked about with Mum?” George asked. Hermione couldn’t tell what he was feeling or if the question was driven by anything.

“I also told Mum I’m staying here and what my job will be. She was pleased at first, until dragons came up,” Charlie said quietly.

“You’re working for Gringotts and Hogwarts. How can she be upset about any of that?” Hermione demanded.

“You deeply underestimate Mum’s ability to fly off the handle about nonsense,” Fred snarked.

“It wasn’t the only thing she was upset about either,” Bill said reluctantly. Everyone stared at him expectantly until he admitted the rest. “Aunt Muriel wants us to announce Ginny’s pregnancy soon. Mum wants a wedding first.”

“Well she’s just going to have to get over that,” Ginny said furiously, bursting into tears.

George and Fleur on either side of her cocooned Ginny in their arms and tried to console her to no avail.

Hesitantly, Harry reached across the table and took her hand. “We could, you know,” he said gently. “At least for looks—”

“No!” Ginny said adamantly. “I won’t get married to someone who can’t stand to touch me and spends half his time watching my wife. Not to mention how a second marriage would work.”

“Well, we know eet eez possible,” Fleur told her. “But I understand why you would not want eet like this.”

“Maybe after the ritual,” Harry suggested, sounding uncertain.

Next, Bill tackled the meeting of the Lords and Ladies of the Light, overviewing what had been discussed even though most everyone knew by now. “I’m sorry again, Hermione, that I didn’t realize how focused it would be on the laws. I thought it was more a social call.”

“I know,” she responded. “I know that’s what you thought, but I’m still angry they didn’t think to invite someone from the Coalition. Owls were sent introducing the organization.”

“It may be more of a battle than you hoped to get them to accept muggleborns into the governing body,” Harry said quietly.

“Honestly, it’s my fault you weren’t there,” Bill said, steering the conversation back to the family. “I should have declared you Lady Weasley by now.”

Hermione gasped, looking immediately over to Fleur. “But that should be—”

“Non, mon chou. I do not want it. And you represent ze ‘ole family, not just Beel.”

“And I should have stood up for you like Harry did, once we were there,” Bill added.

Turning toward Harry, Hermione watched him blush a little at her attention. “You should have been there regardless,” he declared. “It wasn’t hard to tell them so.”

“We will bring you to the next meeting whether you are formally invited or not,” Bill assured her.

“See that you do,” Hermione said, not wanting to fight about it but certain that she would be going with them next time.

When Bill was done explaining everything they had discussed there, Hermione told everyone about the advances the Muggleborn Coalition had made so far and that tomorrow they would be holding their first election for seated members of the Wizengamot.

“Then you should decide if you want to take the Weasley seat,” Bill said.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, confused.

“I mean they’ll vote you in for one of the Coalition seats or you can take the Weasley seat and leave all five of the Coalition’s open for others,” he explained.

“We don’t know that I would—” She was cut off by the intense groaning and eye rolling in the room.

“Come on, love,” Fred cajoled. “The Coalition was your idea. I’m sure they all expect you to be one of the Wizengamot seats.”

“But how will that work — for either seat — with me being a student?”

“That will be a question for the Headmistress,” Charlie said, “but I’m sure she will work with you. I’m sure, too, that you won’t be the only student there this year who will have a seat.”

“I suppose I can ask her when I’m there later.”

“You’re going to Hogwarts today?” George asked, surprised.

“I am. It’s part of my research time,” Hermione explained.

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy, not going to meetings,” Bill gently chided. Turning irritated eyes on him, she calmed somewhat when she saw the smile on his face.

Huffing, she said, “This ritual isn’t going to write itself, you know? Your arithmancer friend, Bancroft Addsley, has come up with the figures and charts we needed and Professor Flitwick agreed to go over them with me and see how it will apply to the ritual I’ve written so far.”

“That’s brilliant!” Fred cried. Hermione wasn’t sure why he was so enthusiastic, but she was happy to have an ally.

“It would be even more brilliant if you come along,” she told him. Everyone looked slightly shocked, especially when she continued and it was clear not everyone had known. “You can meet with Professor Snape’s portrait about the potion we need.”

“Fred can talk to him?” Charlie asked.

“Yes,” Hermione confirmed. “The Professor was very specific that Fred was the only one of us he would discuss it with.”

Fred and George were conversing silently. Finally, they both nodded and Fred said, “George is going to watch the shop and I’ll come along with you, wifey.”

“How soon do you think we can do the ritual?” Bill asked, cutting off her response to the ridiculous nickname.

“It will depend on the discussions today,” Hermione said primly, not wanting to promise anything despite her hopes that it would be very soon. She was ready for a bit of a break and it wasn’t possible until the bonds were loosened.

“Does that mean you think you have it figured out?” Ginny questioned excitedly.

Hesitating, Hermione shook her head. “I just don’t know yet.”

“That’s a yes,” Charlie said, smiling at her with pride.

“We’ll see,” was all she would say, but she knew she was smiling, too. It would be a relief for everyone.

Chapter 33

“Bombarda!”

The ground exploded in front of the girl, blowing chunks of stone and dirt straight for her face. Closing her eyes, she dropped and rolled behind another large boulder, making Ron want to laugh. She had done exactly what he hoped!

Swishing his wand up with a flick, he rapidly levitated the boulder away from her, taking away her cover. To his surprise, she fumbled for only a moment before shooting stunners his way in rapid succession.

Before he could hit her with it as he had planned, he had to drop the boulder and spin out of the way of her oncoming spells. At least Ron was able to drop the giant stone in her path, deflecting one of them.

“That was a good one,” Millie complimented him, out of breath but still crouched down, shifting her weight from foot to foot so she could easily spring once he sent something her way.

Ron was panting heavily and had no desire to offer her similar accolades. He watched her and silently shot Petrificus Totalus as she huffed at him. She shouted “Protego!” and it bounced harmlessly away, but he had nearly gotten her.

“Look, Weasley,” Millie started before dodging a volley of spells he sent her way. From behind another boulder — this one Ron left alone as he needed a moment to catch his breath, too — she continued, “I’ll make this worth your while. I win, you meet me for drinks again. You win and I stop asking.”

“That’s a deal I’ll gladly take,” he said decisively, stepping forward and swinging his wand back and forth, battering her with stinging and cutting hexes that were actually hitting her. Ron almost couldn’t believe how much damage she was letting him do. Millie hadn’t even put up a shield or shouted a spell in response.

Then she was right in front of him. He had barely seen her move but her fist was suddenly coming at him so rapidly Ron couldn’t process it. Then everything was black.

“And that’s why we learn muggle fighting techniques, too,” Robards was saying to the gathered trainees as Ron’s awareness shifted back. Merlin, he wished it hadn’t yet. This was mortifying as well as painful.

He didn’t dare make a sound until he felt someone nudge his arm with their boot. “I saw you twitch,” Millie whispered. “Robards will notice if you don’t admit you’re awake.”

Groaning, Ron tried to sit up, hating the way everything spun when he did. His nose, probably broken, throbbed and his stomach churned.

“In a real fight, you would be dead now,” Robards told him. “What did you learn?”

Ron’s first thought was not to trust my partner but he wisely bit his tongue. Robards wouldn’t find it funny. Probably the only person in the room who would was bloody Millie. “Not to let them get close unless I can physically defend myself.”

“That’s a key point,” Robards agreed. “What are you going to do about it?”

Internally, Ron sighed. He knew the right answer, but he didn’t like it. “Learn to physically defend myself.”

Robards smiled at him. The man actually smiled. “That’s right, you are. Tomorrow, we’re going to start working on muggle defense training,” he announced to everyone.

Ron felt his jaw drop and he looked over at Millie who was batting her eyelashes in a way that he was sure she thought looked innocent. He waited until Robards had walked over to another trainee before hissing, “That was a set up! You knew you were going to win because you planned to cheat!”

“It wasn’t cheating. It was fighting without magic. If anything, I was handing the advantage to you. And you didn’t go down easily. I have plenty of cuts to prove it,” Millie responded ruefully.

That was true. She was covered in them from all the cutting hexes. Millie had little streams of blood everywhere. If he had been trying to hurt her badly, she never would have made it so close to him. They just weren’t supposed to actually hurt each other that badly. “Good,” he told her. “I have a broken nose to prove you cheated.”

Millie snorted and rolled her eyes. “So when are we getting that drink?” she asked as they both headed toward the on-staff Healer’s office.

Ron couldn’t hold back his snarl. “Why the bloody hell do you want us to get drinks. I’m not your friend.”

“No, you’re my partner. I have to depend on you for my life, more than I have to depend on my friends. So we’re going to keep having drinks until you can stand me,” she snarled right back.

“That’s never going to happen!” Ron argued.

Millie rolled her eyes and said, “Never is a long time, Weasley. And a lot of miserable drinks.”

***********

Hermione was already smiling at her professors as she and Fred stepped out of the floo. The Headmistress and Professor Flitwick were waiting for them, or at least for her. She hadn’t had time to tell them — warn them — that Fred would be with her.

“Good Morning, Minnie!” Fred said as he grinned at the former Head of Gryffindor.

To Hermione’s surprise, the older woman huffed slightly but couldn’t stop herself from returning his smile. “Fred,” she acknowledged. “It’s good to see you so unexpectedly.” The look she shot Hermione over her glasses communicated her surprise at his appearance there.

“I’m not sure if he mentioned it, but Professor Snape wanted to speak with Fred.”

“Wanted is a strong word, Mrs. Weasley,” Snape himself sneered from his painting above. “I believe I said he was the only one of the Weasleys I would talk to if I had to.”

“Come on now, Professor. You know you love how brilliant I am,” Fred said confidently.

“I appreciate you when you are not acting the fool,” Snape said harshly. “But I hardly wished to talk to you. It was merely suggested I would have to put up with someone.”

“And you picked me,” Fred beamed.

Hermione was surprised Professor Snape didn’t find a way to climb out of his frame just to strangle the infuriating redhead. She wanted to giggle at the thought, but she didn’t want Professor Flitwick to think she was feeling frivolous this morning when they were about to be so serious.

At that moment, Professor Flitwick himself started laughing and Hermione couldn’t help but join in then. The little half-goblin laughed as he said, “You’ve done this to yourself, Severus.”

“Fortunately I am perfectly fine with the things I arrange for myself,” Snape growled before realizing he had backed himself into the corner and just suggested he wanted Fred there.

“Good then,” Professor Flitwick chirped. “We have our own meeting to attend to.” He gestured to Hermione and before she knew it, they were walking along the hall to Professor Flitwick’s office with him keeping an ongoing commentary. “I considered us meeting in the library but it’s still severely torn apart and, besides, my office is more comfortable for my size. I apologize that it’s a consideration, but it does help me to be able to see over tables and things.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Professo—”

“None of that. I’m Filius to you, remember?” he insisted. “We’re working together as equals, Hermione. The work you’ve done on this ritual would have proven that even if I hadn’t known it before.”

“But I’ll be in school with you in a few months and you’ll be my Professor then,” she pointed out.

He nodded. “Since other impressionables will follow your lead, you’ll have to call me Professor then, but until that day, I’m Filius. Now, enough about that,” he dismissed as they made their way through the charms classroom and into his office at the back. Hermione was instantly charmed by the homey little room.

It was very academic, books lining the walls, and there was a comfortably large — but short — table where Filius already had several books open and a parchment and quill out with notes made on his copy of the ritual she had worked out. She noticed, too, that he had Bancroft Addsley’s arithmancy notes ready as well.

A chair pulled itself out for her and she realized it was at a point where the floor was lower so that she would fit at the table at the right height. It was a perfect bit of magic to make everyone comfortable. Hermione sat, immediately beginning to pull out her copy of the ritual with the notes she had made.

“I see you’re just as organized about this as you ever were in class. Only to be expected, of course,” Filius rambled excitedly. She knew he didn’t get to consult on rituals very often since Dumbledore had never included them in the curriculum, but perhaps now that could change. These were things everyone should know about.

“I try,” she demured, but she couldn’t hold back her own purpose. “You’ve looked it over. Do you think it will work?”

Filius grinned at her. “I’ve made some notes, added in some of the things the arithmancy shows will be most auspicious, but overall, yes, you’ve done it!”

Hermione felt overjoyed that he believed it would work. She had put so much effort into figuring this ritual out, but she hadn’t been confident it was right. “Thank you!” she gushed.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Filius told her. “Read the notes and then we can talk about them.”

As she began to read, Hermione noted several things that made sense, and others that she found more questionable. “Why seven days before the dark moon?”

Filius pulled out the astronomy chart he had tucked under several other sheets. “The waning moon will be most auspicious for releasing things, but you don’t want to do it too close to the dark moon itself or the bonds could be dissolved instead of just loosening.”

“So it has nothing to do with the magical significance of the number seven?”

He laughed. “Of course it does. You can see here in Mr. Addsley’s equations that the seven days correspond to the seven siblings and also that the probability of this day is the strongest for long-term change.”

Hermione nodded, satisfied with that answer. She had assumed as much, though she hadn’t considered that long-term change wouldn’t be guaranteed if they worked the ritual on the wrong day. Thank Merlin for having a good arithmancer working with them. She knew that she and Bill could figure many things on their own, but she wouldn’t trust this to less than a Master.

“Are you certain water should be used as well as air?” she asked next.

“The transformative properties of water will help the bonds change without releasing entirely. I agree that air is appropriate for the independence you hope to achieve, but both elements will be helpful,” Filius explained.

Again, she found herself nodding as she poured through the next part of the document. Her breath caught when she came to the bit about the blood. “Do you really think this is necessary?” she asked, indicating his notes.

Filius blanched a bit, but nodded. “I’m afraid so. If the timing isn’t right, you can put some in stasis.”

“Actually, I don’t think it’s possible,” Hermione said, shaking her head, “and I’m not sure I understand the reasoning.”

“The blood of your maidenhead used in the first ritual was very powerful, a true gift as they pointed out at the time. It probably played a role in how tight the bonds are between all of you. Your feminine cycle releases blood, and that release, especially coinciding naturally with the ritual, could be another point in favor of loosening the bonds. Why wouldn’t it be possible?”

He was so focused on the topic, and clearly so excited about the implications, that he forgot to be embarrassed about the subject they were discussing. Hermione wished she felt the same.

Blushing profusely, Hermione explained, “I haven’t had a cycle since we went on the run. The Healer told me it’s because I’m malnourished.”

Filius paused, looking crushed. Hermione rushed on, “Surely there’s something else we could do. You said this is because of the blood we used before. How do you think Ron’s refusal played into it?”

Shaking his head, Filius scrambled through the notes on his side of the table. “I’ve consulted every book I can find and talked to several other ritual enthusiasts and a Master. We can’t say for certain what role Ronald played, but the troubles you’ve been having are undoubtedly affected by that decision. I wouldn’t go full on blaming the boy for all your troubles, but it certainly played a role.”

She nodded. Everything she had read suggested that was true as well. The bonds, denied that completion of the full circle, may have tightened to compensate. That was what made the most sense to her anyway. Hermione didn’t say that, though.

Instead, she suggested, “What if we use a drop of everyone’s blood mixed together and then, I don’t know, divide it back out somehow?”

The calculations were clearly running through Filius’ head as he mumbled, “Wish we had that arithmancer here.”

“Maybe we could use Professor Vector?” Hermione ventured.

“No, no,” Filius disagreed. “No need to bring more people into this than already know. Vector is a terrible gossip and good friends with that horrid Skeeter woman.”

Hermione felt her eyes widen. They certainly didn’t want that. If she could help it, this ritual would be kept to themselves. Only a select few in the wizarding world knew of their struggles and she wanted to keep it that way.

With a sigh, she settled into the necessary work. She was no Master like Addsley, but she did enjoy arithmancy and felt she didn’t do too poorly at it. “My calculations show that would work,” she announced when she had triple-checked herself and was certain.

“Under the circumstances, I think it will be the best,” Filius agreed, looking up from his own parchment covered in arithmantic symbols.

She made a humming sound, set aside the problem she had just been working, and went back to reading, grateful that Filius was content to read through her notes at the same time, without the need for small talk until one last question on the subject occurred to her.

“Should Ron be included with the blood this time? What do we do if he refuses?”

“He was not a part of it before, but he is bound like the rest,” Filius contemplated aloud. “I think it would be vital that he is included this time if you want the ritual to work as expected. If he will not do it out of understanding, the Head of his Noble House can require it of him. To refuse would mean expulsion from the House.”

“What if he took that option?” Hermione asked, knowing how stubborn Ron could be.

Filius snorted. “Then the boy is even more of a fool than I could have imagined.”

That didn’t completely settle Hermione’s worry, but she would just have to talk to him and make him see reason. This ritual was important. Perhaps she could point out how awful it would be to have a bondgasm in the middle of training with Millicent.

“I think this knot you’ve suggested is brilliant,” Filius commented as he perused her notes. “I only wonder what sort of material the bindings should be made from.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Hermione admitted. She had just assumed they would use rope or perhaps ribbon. She explained that and it was his turn to hum in thought.

“Perhaps you should use silken ropes?”

“It would slip apart more easily that way,” Hermione agreed. “Or… what if it were something living? A plant that was bound together and then released.”

“I know just the plant for it!” Filius crowed. “The Sliding Tentacula! Its vines are more slippery than silk so the knot would come apart easily.”

“But not too easily, I hope?” Hermione asked, biting her lip. She couldn’t stand the thought of actually losing the bond with any of them.

“No, my dear, no, of course not. We’ll practice with it, make sure you all know the proper way to pull it apart without it being too much. If it doesn’t work as we hope, you can use a regular silken rope, but I agree that having it as a living component is better symbolically,” he said excitedly.

Before long, they came to the topic of the potion, but Hermione shrugged. “I’ve researched the ingredients to the best of my ability, but I’m leaving it in Fred’s hands now. He’s working with Professor Snape—”

“Most remarkable that,” Filius commented.

“—to be certain he gets it right. Fred is quite a talented brewer, truly.”

“Oh, I believe it,” the half-goblin said with a smile. “Those twins are brilliant, and Severus always did bemoan how Frederick would shine if he would just apply himself!”

Hermione paused in astonishment at that, then shook her head and reapplied herself to their work. “Honestly, past the potion, there’s not much more to discuss if you truly think this will work.”

“I do,” Filius told her. His eyes were twinkling more than the former Headmaster’s ever had. “I am perfectly confident that it will work. And young Harry’s ritual, too, though it should happen on the Dark Moon seven days later.”

“That makes sense,” she agreed, “since we’re releasing all of his bonds completely. Then he can make whatever choices he needs to. I wish we could free him first. I’m afraid our bonds loosening will confuse his bonds.”

“It’s possible,” Filius told her, looking like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “But we will hope for his sake that his bonds stay settled between now and then.”

“That’s all we can do, I suppose,” Hermione said. She was feeling better about the ritual, but there were still plenty of things to feel nervous about.

************

“Watch out!” an older man with a crisp, aristocratic drawl to his voice called as one of the already-compromised walls crumbled further. Charlie’s dragon handling reflexes came in handy as he easily tucked and rolled, getting quickly out of the way.

When the rumbling of falling stone stopped, the man made his way over to Charlie. “That was some fast thinking and moving,” he observed, sounding impressed.

“I work with dragons,” Charlie said with a laugh, “Have to be on your toes and ready to move.” Holding out his hand, he added, “I’m Charlie Weasley.”

The man shook it, saying, “Woodrow Selwyn. Pleased to meet you.”

Charlie froze. The Selwyns were known for being followers of Voldemort. The man seemed to notice the change in Charlie’s stance instantly.

He sighed tiredly. “I know. I’m sorry if those boys did anything to you or yours. I’m not associated with that branch of the family. Still would have been disowned for my lack of enthusiasm about that trumped up Dark Lord, but I was the only boy in my father’s line and he was sentimental about it.”

“You’re on the side of the light?” Charlie clarified.

The man hummed. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. More of a neutral party. I didn’t do any fighting, but I’m here and doing what I can. Now that the family’s fate has fallen into my hands, I plan to guide it away from the dark.”

Nodding, Charlie decided that was worthy enough. He smiled at the man. “I only just arrived. Do you know where I could help?”

“The new Headmistress is giving out assignments, but if you’d like to give me a hand shifting these stones away, I’m not making much progress on my own,” he suggested. “My magic’s not what it used to be. Age will do that if you’re not careful.”

Charlie smiled and said, “Sure, just show me what we’re doing.”

Woodrow almost sagged with relief and Charlie knew he had made the right choice. He wasn’t sure what Minerva was thinking, putting an old man like this out by himself. “I’m surprised you don’t have any helpers. This is a big job,” he noted.

Woodrow looked at the ground. “No one wanted to work with a Selwyn. I’m lucky old McGonagall wouldn’t let them string me up.”

Appalled, Charlie said, “You’re here now. And we’re going to change that attitude.”

The man’s family was certainly responsible for some atrocities and Charlie wasn’t going to let his guard down, but the wizarding world was never going to heal if people wouldn’t work together. No time like the present to begin.

What felt like hours later, the rubble had been removed and the wall was ready to be rebuilt. He just needed a rest first. He was thrilled when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“You’ve been working hard,” Hermione commented, a smile in her tone.

Turning, Charlie grinned back at her. “I have. We have,” he added, nodding to Woodrow. He introduced his new friend and was happy that Hermione didn’t flinch at the man’s last name. He should have expected as much. She was the most open-minded witch he knew.

He was pleased to note that Hermione’s eyes skimmed his upper body — his shirt had come off as he began getting physically into the work — her appreciation obvious in her gaze. He didn’t often feel like gloating about his muscles, but when she looked at him like that, Charlie felt incredible.

“Professor McGonagall was looking for you,” she informed him. “She didn’t seem to know you were here but I just had a feeling.”

He knew what she meant. Charlie had been very aware that she was nearby, too. “I’ll go find her in a bit,” he said. “How did your meeting with Flitwick go?”

“Oh Filius gave me such useful suggestions! I’m certain now that this ritual is going to work,” she gushed.

Hermione was beaming and it made her look more beautiful than ever. Charlie couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her, even though he knew he was sweaty and probably didn’t smell the greatest. She didn’t seem to mind, though, as she deepened the kiss immediately, seeming to forget that they had an audience.

After a few long, glorious moments, Charlie pulled back. As much as he wanted to lose himself in the moment, he didn’t want to make his new friend uncomfortable. “I’m glad it’s going to work out,” he told her, though he was honestly more nervous about the ritual than he was letting on.

He didn’t want the pain that currently came with being separated from one another, but he also feared losing her. There was a part of him that was afraid the ritual would cut the bonds to all but the twins and he felt certain he would die if he lost his connection to her. Charlie wanted to roll his eyes at himself. He was being fully as overdramatic as the twins themselves.

His thoughts on his younger brothers, Charlie asked, “How did Fred fare with Professor Snape?”

“I don’t know yet,” Hermione said. “I could still hear their voices and didn’t want to interrupt so I came looking for you instead.”

“Excuse me,” Woodrow put in, “did you say Professor Snape? I thought he died?”

“He did,” she confirmed. “But he has a portrait in the Headmistress’ office and, although he’s still very much his miserable, moody self, he is helping us with a potions problem.” Hermione seemed hesitant to say more.

“No one better for that,” the older man said grudgingly. “I don’t appreciate the way he led my nephews further toward the Dark Lord, but you can’t argue that he was brilliant at potions.”

“He was,” Hermione agreed. She seemed to hesitate again before just jumping in. “If my information is correct, you have a seat on the Wizengamot, Lord Selwyn?”

Charlie gave a start and looked at the man more appraisingly. He had been completely unaware that he was working with someone who no one would expect to be getting their hands dirty. He observed the man more closely as he moved to put his shirt back on.

“I do,” Woodrow agreed. “By the skin of my teeth. We nearly lost it for the abominations my nephews perpetrated. As it is, I expect the reparations our House will owe may bankrupt us, but I’ll be voting for those myself. We do owe it to society.”

Hermione looked quietly impressed Charlie noticed. He was sure Woodrow noticed, too, as the man looked pleased underneath his grim expression. If Charlie hadn’t ambled into helping here completely of his own volition, he would wonder how much of this conversation was choreographed. Maybe Woodrow had just planned to present himself this way to anyone.

“I look forward to seeing the way you vote,” Hermione said diplomatically, making it clear she needed proof before she would believe it.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to read about it in the Prophet,” Woodrow said with a smile. It was the first major misstep he had made. Hermione’s face took on a severe look immediately. Charlie hastened to diffuse the situation.

“She’ll see it from inside the Wizengamot,” he announced proudly, slinging an arm around her.

The look of shock that crossed the older man’s face almost made Charlie laugh. “You’re a muggleborn,” Woodrow stated.

“I am,” Hermione agreed, without explaining herself further. “Expect to see a few of us. Charlie, your sister brought lunch for everyone. Are you ready to join us? You can talk to Minerva before we eat.”

“Yeah, we’ll be along in a moment. I just need to talk to Woodrow for a moment,” he said. Hermione gave him a quizzical look, but nodded, starting back toward the front of the castle.

Turning to the other man, Charlie said, “She’s not joking. There will be a number of muggleborns there, and probably far more half-bloods than used to be. I suggest you become accustomed to the idea if you wish to prove your family is more than another puppet of the Dark Lord.”

“It will take some getting used to,” Woodrow admitted. “I’m glad to be forewarned. Do the others know?”

Charlie shrugged. “I’m not a political man.”

“You might be more political than you believe,” Woodrow smirked. “You’ve done good work here today,” he said, “and I’ve enjoyed working with you, Mr. Weasley. I hope we can do so again.”

“I would like that,” Charlie agreed before heading off to find Hermione and Minerva.

***********

Fred’s stomach was starting to growl, but there was no way he was going to give up. He wasn’t sure Snape would see him again if he left before they were done. He wiped sweat from his brow and then stirred three times counter-clockwise instead of clockwise even though he still thought clockwise would have made the potion more potent.

“I see that look of insolence, so let me disillusion you of your thoughts of grandeur,” Snape sneered. “You are correct that stirring it clockwise would make the potion stronger. But stronger isn’t what you want for this ritual as it is about releasing bonds, not tightening them.”

“I’m not sure why the potion is needed at all then,” Fred snapped in exasperation. They had been at this for hours and his patience was wearing thin. He didn’t like Professor Snape, but he respected the man. Still, he could only take so much of the constant underhanded insults and insinuations before he might explode.

“As we have previously discussed, you dunderhead,” Snape snapped right back, “the potion will open everyone’s magical cores so that the bonds can be free to move. The rest of the ritual will specifically help to loosen the bonds rather than tighten them, but if the potion is too strong, it could counteract the intent of the ritual itself.”

“I didn’t think you were such a ritual expert,” Fred commented, trying to keep the sarcasm from his tone.

“One picks up some more obscure bits of magic as one gets older. Especially working for the Dark Lord,” the man in the portrait reminded. He seemed to enjoy bringing up the fact that he had been a Death Eater, as if he needed to remind Fred of it. Repeatedly.

“Good thing you weren’t entirely for him then, isn’t it?” Fred countered. He loved watching Snape’s eye twitch when this was brought up. He could rub it in by saying something about Harry’s mum — they had all heard the story by now — but even he understood that some things were sacred. His relationship with Hermione had seen to that.

Instead of rising to this bait, Snape grit his teeth and bit out, “Add the Bird of Paradise flowers now.”

“What are they for?” Fred asked, genially dropping his former animosity. One point for him that Snape hadn’t had a comeback this time.

“You tell me,” Snape drawled.

“The Strelitzia flower represents independence, an essential part of what we’re looking for in this ritual. That these specific ones are predominantly purple is another representation of it.”

“Very good,” Snape praised reluctantly. Fred was almost certain he hadn’t expected him to think about the color. He loved surprising the man into praising him. He didn’t need validation the way his wife did, but he did enjoy playing this game of silently tallying points between himself and the angry Potions Master. “There are only two more steps and it will be complete. The potion needs to simmer for 7 minutes while you clean up after yourself.”

Fred nodded. He knew better than to leave a mess in Minnie’s office. She had been very reluctant to let him brew in here in the first place, only doing it to appease Snape, Fred suspected.

Quickly, he began cleaning up the area he had used to slice billywig stings and dice the moonstones. Somehow he had gotten wolf hair everywhere as well. Finally, he gathered the equipment he was no longer using and scourgified it just in time to come back to the potion and stir — this time in a diagonal pattern back and forth.

“Now put it in stasis!” Snape cried, looking concerned that Fred would mess it up at this point.

His spellwork was fast, however, knowing how crucial it was not to let the potion boil over. “It’s done,” Fred announced, feeling more proud of himself than he would have imagined. He loved this work.

Snape looked down his overly large nose at Fred. “It is,” he finally agreed. “You have done… better than I expected.”

Beaming, Fred said, “Admit it, I did brilliantly.”

Snape scowled at him. “That would be going much too far,” he disagreed. “Now take your potion and get out of my sight.”

Fred carefully bottled the potion into eight vials — one for each of them — and used Evanesco to whisk everything else away to the dungeon lab. He would go down and scrub the cauldron after lunch. Since there was no potions Professor thus far, there was no one to bother it until then. “Thanks for your help, Snapey-poo!” he said as a farewell, grinning when the portrait began to rage. He was already out of the room before Snape chuckled once and then disappeared from his painting.

Out on the lawn, everyone had gathered to eat. Fred quickly found his sister, the bringer of food, sitting on a blanket with Charlie and Hermione. His brother was sprawled out in the sun, looking full and content next to their lovely wife. Hermione was reading — of course — and Ginny was gazing up at the castle, looking frustrated.

“Oi! Save any food for me?” he asked. He was gratified when Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled out a covered plate.

“Fred!” Hermione said, almost dropping her book. “How did it go? Do you think you’ll be able to make the potion?”

“Better yet,” he said, pulling one of the vials from inside the bag he was using. He held it up to her as he proclaimed, “I’ve already made it. It will be good in stasis for up to three months according to the great dungeon bat.”

“You shouldn’t speak so poorly of him,” Hermione admonished, but she was trying to hold back laughter.

“You’re right. The git did just help us,” Fred agreed with a grin. “How did your research go?”

“We’re ready for the ritual. We just have to wait for the waning moon, seven days before the dark moon,” she explained.

“And when is that exactly?” Ginny asked.

“Next week. Thursday, to be precise,” Hermione said, biting her lip.

“So after the hubbub of the Wizengamot,” Fred noted.

“Thank Merlin for that,” Charlie weighed in. “It’s going to be enough for all of us to deal with.”

“You won’t even be there,” Fred said.

“Neither will you,” Charlie bickered back.

“Unless Bill picks me to take the Prewett seat,” Fred grumbled. He knew Charlie was just playing, but the assumption that he wouldn’t be there still hurt. He wasn’t sure when he had become attached to the idea of being on the Wizengamot, but suddenly Fred was certain it was the right thing for him to do.

Charlie seemed to sense his change of mood. “Maybe he will,” he said consolingly.

He didn’t want to, but Fred nodded. Then he realized Hermione was staring at him with a look of surprise. “You know how serious you would need to be?” she questioned.

“I can be serious,” he insisted.

“I know you can,” Hermione rushed to assure him, but it was too hasty.

Shaking his head, Fred said, “You don’t have to lie to me. I know I’m not known for being serious, but I can be when I have to.”

“Have you talked to Bill about this?” she asked.

“Not yet, but I will,” Fred promised, hoping they could drop the subject for the moment. “What are we doing this afternoon, lovely?”

“Well, I assumed you would have to get back to the shop,” Hermione pointed out. “I’m staying here to help with the castle.”

“And I’m staying here to lounge in the sun,” Ginny declared.

“Not fair!” Fred cried. “You should go back to the shop and I should lounge in the sun.”

“Maybe she should go help at the shop and you should help here,” Charlie suggested with a grin. “Best use of everyone’s abilities.” Hermione nodded along with that assessment.

Much as he hated to admit his big brother had pulled one over on him, Fred knew he had been outmaneuvered. He and Ginny exchanged a look and she moaned, flopping back on the blanket.

“You’re sure I can’t just stay here?” she asked.

“I’m sure George would appreciate the help,” Fred said, grinning at her. She silently transfigured a leaf into a pillow and threw it at his head.

“Fine. I’ll go help, but your arse better work hard here,” Ginny told him.

“I’ll make sure he does,” Charlie solemnly swore, and it was Fred’s turn to groan.

**********

Bending over was a bloody pain in the arse, and she wasn’t even showing yet. Ginny was completely certain she hated pregnancy. How her Mum had done this six times, she had no idea. And, as she placed another product on the shelf, she grimly acknowledged she couldn’t ask. Not that Mum would understand her hatred of it anyway. She had clearly loved being pregnant.

With a sigh, she finished her assigned task and turned toward the till. George was finishing up with the last customer in the building. It still wasn’t closing time, but at least she could take a break now since things were slow at this time of day.

Making her way to the front, Ginny plopped down on a stool next to George, curious when she saw that he was going over a folder full of papers. “What’s that?” she asked, making her brother jump.

“This is the housing portfolio I’ve been putting together.”

“Housing portfolio?” she asked, unsure what he meant.

“Possible houses for all of us. I’ve been searching for a while, but now that I have the wish list, it’s easier to sort and knock some of them out,” George explained.

“What do you mean?” she asked, leaning forward to see that the parchments — and some muggle papers — all had pictures at the top and then lines of writing underneath.

He pulled the stack of muggle papers. “These, for instance, could probably go straight to the rubbish bin. Even the ones that meet our other requirements won’t work when you figure in needing a Quidditch pitch and somewhere to keep Abraxans or the like.”

Ginny snorted. “Yet places like Grimmauld manage to have flying space and keep a Hippogriff.”

“Opening up the attic to put in a Hippogriff isn’t quite what Charlie has in mind,” George said with a laugh. “Well, he probably would, but Hermione would murder him. And yeah, if we could find a property that old and magical, it would possibly have everything we needed. It would also be out of our price range, even with everyone’s contributions.”

She huffed, conceding the point. Ginny hated that she was too young to make contributions right now. She had a feeling that, in a year or two, once she had her dream job of being signed with the Harpies, she would be able to contribute plenty. But they couldn’t wait that long on a house.

“Here, take a look at this one,” George said, handing her a sheet of parchment.

The house on the front was grand, something you would expect Malfoy or his ilk to live in. Ginny felt her eyes go round just looking at it as the image changed to one of the front entry hall and then a tour around the house. The thing was, despite the grandeur, it was a dump. Parts were even falling in.

“Is this livable?” she asked.

“It would need some major work,” George told her, “but we have a lot of hands to do it, and that’s the only reason it’s in our price range. It’s a bit much, really. Did you look at the stats?”

Skimming the paper, her eyes bugged out once more. “Twenty-six bedrooms!?”

“Well, we would have plenty of space,” George said, laughing. “But it doesn’t have the potions lab we wanted, and I don’t know about the leylines. The grounds are what sell it for me. It has an actual full Quidditch pitch and a pool.”

“But no barns for Charlie,” Ginny pointed out. “Or the Circle we may need.”

“True. But there’s space to build them,” George noted. “Oh, it’s in Ireland.”

“I thought we were looking in Hogsmeade?” she questioned.

“How many 26 bedroom houses have you ever heard of in Hogsmeade?” George snorted.

“Well I can see not being in the village itself, but surely there’s something in the right country—” Ginny started, but then paused. “You really like this one?” To her, there were a lot of drawbacks, though having a full Quidditch pitch would be ideal.

“No,” he replied cheerfully, “but I wanted to see your take on it. Only one with a full Quidditch pitch.”

Rolling her eyes, Ginny asked, “I can live without that as long as there is space to practice. Are there any you do particularly like?”

“Sure,” he answered, offering nothing else.

“Do you need a Bat Bogey Hex to convince you to share them with me?” she demanded.

George grinned, enjoying that he had gotten to her. “You could just ask,” he suggested, looking mockingly disappointed. If there had been anything to hand that she wouldn’t have to worry would explode, she would have thrown something at him.

“Could you show me the houses you like?” Ginny asked so sweetly that George looked a little alarmed.

“Of course,” he hastily agreed, pulling 4 parchments from the pile. “These are the ones I think have the most potential. They’re all in Scotland, though not all near Hogsmeade.”

“In the right country is an improvement,” Ginny said dryly. It was important to her that they be near the school so that no one could say Hermione was too far away.

She took the parchments from her brother and began perusing them, looking at the pictures first and then the information.

Immediately, she set aside an eccentric old castle.

“You don’t like the castle?” George pouted.

“It’s too near muggles,” Ginny pointed out.

“They think it’s a haunted ruin. Never go near it. And we could add extra muggle repelling charms. I’d love to be the owner of Weasley Castle,” he said wistfully.

She shook her head and said, “I just don’t think it would work.”

George began muttering about senseless prejudice, but Ginny wasn’t worried about it. She could tell he knew it was silly, too. He was probably imagining Fred and himself setting up a throne room or some nonsense. Shaking her head, she looked through the other three possibilities.

There was a cute cottage in Hogsmeade, bigger on the inside than the out. It still only had eight bedrooms, so not quite what they needed, but they could make do. It had a potions lab and an indoor Circle in what they called “the Summoning room.” There was a library, but it was small — Hermione might already have more books than it could hold. There was no study. The more troubling part was that there wasn’t much in the way of grounds beyond a small garden.

For her that wouldn’t matter so much. Being inside the wizarding village, she would be able to fly wherever she wanted and could perhaps petition to keep practicing at Hogwarts after she graduated. And maybe if Charlie continued as the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, he could be happy with just his creatures there, but she knew he would be sad not to have creatures at home as well. There was also no space for a greenhouse.

Despite the things that weren’t perfect, Ginny knew instantly that she wanted to see it in person. “When can we go look at some of these? This one is just adorable.”

Raising his eyebrows and smiling, George said, “It can be arranged in the next few days once we’re sure which ones we want to see.”

Ginny handed him the parchment for the cottage. “Make sure we see this one, please.”

He saluted and she rolled her eyes before looking at the next parchment.

It was a large Victorian home in what appeared to be a wizarding neighborhood, based on the children flying down the street outside in the pictures. It was apparently in the wizarding segment of Inverness according to the parchment. There were ten bedrooms exactly. It had a library, two studies, a potions lab, and was located at the intersection of two leylines. The garden looked nice in the pictures and there was already a chicken coop and a pen for some sort of small creature. It had a pool.

There was no Quidditch pitch, but George had scrawled a note that the nearby park included a pickup match location. With that in mind, this could be a real possibility. The house had nearly everything they needed. “This one has a lot of potential,” she commented.

“It does,” George agreed, then grimaced, “and the pricetag to match.”

“If it’s too much then why—”

“It’s not necessarily too much,” George explained, “Just definitely at the top of our range. I want to see it, too. It’s a little farther from Hogwarts than I had hoped, but it could work. Oh, and I forgot one more,” he said, slipping a new parchment to the top of her stack as he took the Victorian house away.

This one was nearly as bad off as the first enormous manor he had shown her. Still, it was pretty. And close — in the countryside outside Hogsmeade. It was an old Tudor-style country home. It had clearly been neglected, the outside covered in ivy and moss, but it might still be salvageable. There were thirteen bedrooms and a wide array of rooms that could be used for anything. Ginny counted enough that they could easily put in studies and the potions lab. It already had a library — a rather large one.

It came with quite a lot of land, too. The garden was overgrown, but it could be tamed. There was a greenhouse near the house. Like the garden, it was a ramshackle mess. There were several old structures around the land that had been for livestock at one time or another. They would need repair, but it was nothing Charlie couldn’t manage. There was no Quidditch pitch, but plenty of land to fly about.

“This one looks nice if it weren’t in such bad shape,” she commented.

“Agreed,” George said. “I think it would be a good investment.”

Ginny nodded. “It definitely would be if we didn’t need to live in it sooner more so than later.”

When she looked down at the last parchment, she was certain it was a joke. It looked like a giant tree with a door in it connected to a fairytale witch’s treehouse up above. It was far too small to be of interest on the inside as well as outside, so Ginny couldn’t imagine why it was in the running.

“You can grow additional rooms,” George explained. “It’s a bit like a tree that way. The downside is that it is currently infested with fairies, and making that many fae angry at once might be a terrible idea.”

Ginny looked at him like he’d grown an extra head. “You think that’s the only thing to worry about? How long does it take to grow a new room? How many rooms can it hold?”

“We would need more information, of course,” George admitted. “But it reminds me of home,” he added quietly.

When she looked at it again, she could see the vague resemblance to the Burrow. The tree was actually much more aesthetically pleasing, but they both had the same sort of whimsy. She had said she still wanted the place to be like home. Even though she wanted to tell her brother no, Ginny smiled at him and said, “Yeah. We should go look at it, too.”

“Great! Now that I’ve gotten someone else’s input, I’ll start setting up appointments,” George said with a grin.

Ginny felt both a sense of foreboding and elation — or maybe it was just another bout of “morning” sickness.

*********

Bill came out of the floo to the sound of giggling in the kitchen and he felt the stress of the day starting to melt away. He had been so busy since the meeting this morning, he had almost forgotten they got to have Hermione tonight. By the sound of things, his wife certainly had not.

When he arrived in the kitchen, he found his two wives standing side by side rolling out dough with cute little aprons on — only aprons on — kissing and sharing a nearly empty bottle of wine between them. It was a sight to see.

By the sound of them, they didn’t even notice he was there, but he knew them well enough to be absolutely certain it was a show. Even wine-drunk Fleur always knew he was there, and Hermione’s war instincts meant that she could never relax, never stop seeing everything in a room. Though, the way Fleur was kissing her, maybe she truly was unaware of his presence.

He walked up behind them on silent feet thanks to a spell. Both girls squealed when he ran a hand over each of their arses, leaning in close to whisper, “I’m home.”

The way Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin, apparently she really hadn’t known he was there. She must be pretty far gone.

“Welcome ‘ome, darling,” Fleur cooed, kissing him soundly.

Hermione’s kiss was less coordinated but just as enthusiastic when it was her turn. Her lack of control concerned him, though. “Is everything okay?” he asked her, glancing over to Fleur who rolled her eyes at him.

“Everything is fabulous!” Hermione gushed. “We’re celebrating,” she said, in a tone that told him this should be obvious. “The ritual is ready, just have to wait for the auspicious time.”

“Really?” he asked, feeling both elation and fear. He didn’t like feeling so needy, but he was afraid this ritual would go too far as well and they would lose her.

It must have been written on his face, because Hermione reached up and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “You are my husband whether the bond squeezes us together or not. Just like Fleur is my wife without being bound.”

“You forget my magic,” Fleur pointed out.

“I don’t forget it!” Hermione argued, offended. “It’s just different from the bond. We are in love because of more than magic. Both of you with me. Merlin, I’m not saying this very well.” She hiccuped and Fleur giggled.

“This is the only bottle of wine you’ve been through tonight, right?” he asked.

“Oui, but she ‘as ‘ad most of eet,” Fleur explained. “Eet was time for ‘er to let loose. She knows she eez safe with us.”

Bill smiled. It felt good to know she could let loose in front of them, even if he would have preferred her a little more lucid.

“So safe,” Hermione agreed happily, leaning back into him.

He accommodated her by putting his arms around her. She turned in his embrace and leaned up to kiss him. Bill took control this time, guiding her tongue so that the kiss was more coordinated and passionate. His hands were toying with her naked arse, running lightly down the backs of her thighs, and enjoying the feel of goosepimples raising across her skin.

“Non, darling,” Fleur said to him, pulling Hermione away when the kiss was done. “You were late getting ‘ome. She eez mine for now.”

Taken aback, Bill huffed. “Are you going to put on a show for me then?”

“We weel put on a show for ourselves,” Fleur said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Turning to Hermione, she slid her hands into the younger girl’s hair and tugged her softly. Hermione moaned and followed the silent command, moving back in front of Fleur. As Fleur untied their aprons and hung them back on the peg, she directed, “You weel finish these croissants while we play, Beel.”

“Of course,” he responded, knowing better than to argue when Fleur was in this commanding mood. “If you take your play somewhere else.”

“Careful, mon amour, or we weel take eet where you cannot see,” she told him.

“I’m sorry,” he hastily apologized. “I just need to get to the counter.”

Fleur nodded and led Hermione away, over to the dining table. To his surprise, she put Hermione on the table itself. “I zink you weel be a lovely meal while we wait.”

Once the croissants were in the oven, Bill set his wand to buzz at the right time and turned back to his wives. Fleur was indeed making a scrumptious meal of Hermione, who was bucking and writhing all over the place. He palmed his cock through his trousers, unsure if he was allowed to take off his clothes when she hadn’t given permission.

Then, to his shock, Fleur looked back at him with a wink before staring straight into Hermione’s eyes and trilling her mating call. Bill grunted in surprise as instant heat flooded him. He needed to get to her immediately. As he started around the counter, vaguely aware of Hermione now whining with the same need he felt, Fleur rounded on him, keeping one hand toying with Hermione’s clit as she said to him, “I deed not tell you eet was time for you to join us.”

“You called,” he gasped, the need driving him mad as he traced her gorgeous body with his eyes.

“You weel stay een ze kitchen until ze croissants are done. Only zen weel you be allowed to join us — eef you’re good until then,” Fleur said, then ignored him to whisper a complicated transfiguration spell and Bill was shocked to see her clit transform into a massive cock.

He gasped, shocked by how much hotter he suddenly felt at the sight. Whining, he couldn’t help but say, “The croissants won’t come out for twenty minutes. I need you.”

“Patience, darling,” Fleur said with a wicked laugh. Hermione was tugging at her arm, desperate for attention, her eyes round as she looked at the unexpected cock before her.

“Do you want eet bigger? Or smaller? I can change eet eef you would like eet to be different,” Fleur told her gently, all sweetness for their girl.

“It’s attached to you,” Hermione breathed. “It’s absolutely perfect however you make it.”

Fleur made a purring sound Bill had never heard before and the heat, the burning need for her, increased tenfold. “Merlin,” he gasped. “I need you.”

“Of course you do, but you weel wait,” she said. More purring and Bill thought he might explode from sheer need. “You may take off your clothes and touch yourself, but you weel not come until you are inside one of us.”

He managed to bite his tongue before saying that it had to be her. The need she had awakened would accept nothing else, but Bill knew he would take whatever she commanded. He watched hungrily as Fleur lined herself up with Hermione’s dripping pussy and pushed in until their bodies were flush with one another, stretching Hermione as she went. The younger girl let out a long hissing moan as Fleur filled her.

After giving Hermione just a moment to adjust, Fleur pulled back out and, staring into Hermione’s eyes, began to pound into her hard enough to rock their sturdy table. Bill couldn’t catch his breath, the sight was so incredible. Desperately, he cast a lubrication spell and began stroking himself. He wanted release, but he knew better than to find it without her — if he even could while the mating call was acting on him.

He watched as Hermione screamed with pleasure already, her cunt undoubtedly spasming around Fleur’s cock. He could almost imagine the way it would feel around himself. Bill dropped his cock for fear he was going to send himself over the edge, feeling it throb with need as he continued to watch and squirm.

Unable to help himself as Fleur slowly withdrew from Hermione, Bill moaned, “Fleur, please. I need you.”

“Eet eez only a few more minutes, mon amour. Surely you can manage.” Her tinkling laugh sent waves of need through him. She had never been this deliciously cruel before and his brain felt scattered with the need for her overwhelming all else.

He could barely catch a breath when she turned and began stalking toward him, her spent cock already springing back to life as she looked at him. “Now, ze question weel be, can you take me while ‘Ermione sucks your cock or do you need me to be your sweet, docile little Fleur.”

“You are never docile, but always sweet,” he responded, thinking desperately of her unique flavor.

She laughed again, and he heard Hermione moan in response to it, despite the fact that the girl was practically passed out across their table.

“What weel eet be, Beel? Do you want me to pound my cock eento you?” she asked, a look of challenge in her eyes.

Bill expected to be turned off by the idea. Merlin knew he had never had an interest in that before, but then, he had never seen his beautiful wife with a cock before either. “Yes,” he responded clumsily. “Whatever you want.”

“Then you weel take my cock,” Fleur declared with a smile that burned through Bill and made his own cock ache again. She made it worse by coming to him, kissing him until Bill felt weak in the knees.

The timer went off then, but he was too involved in the kiss to care. She laid a hand on his cock, squeezing it momentarily and drawing a groan from him as she said, “Eef you burn ze croissants, you weel ‘ave to wait zat much longer,” and sending him running.

When the damn things were finally laid out to cool on the counter, he turned back to her. Fleur had helped Hermione off the table while he was busy, sending a Scourgify at it to clean up the mess. Bill was pleased to see that her eyes were now bright, both the drunken haze and the mindless mating need gone, filled with plain desire instead as she looked hungrily at his own cock.

He sucked in a breath at that expression, and happily went to the table when Fleur beckoned him. “You weel lean over ze table,” she told him, and he hastened to obey.

Before he could even brace himself properly, he felt Hermione’s tentative tongue licking up and down his cock, flicking at the tip and gathering up his pre-cum. It made him moan helplessly. There was a new sensation then, what he knew intellectually to be the spell for anal that cleaned everything out. It had never been used on him before.

“Are you ready?” Fleur asked.

When he answered in the affirmative, he heard her cast the lubrication charm and then felt her finger gently working at his arse. Bill had never felt anything like it before. He would have expected it to be uncomfortable, and it was to some degree. But it also felt good, stretching him in a way he had never expected.

Just then, Hermione pulled him into her mouth and began twirling her tongue around him. Bill gasped just as Fleur pushed a second finger inside him. With the two of them working on him in tandem, Bill wasn’t sure how long he could manage to hold out, but he was determined to wait until Fleur was inside him.

He couldn’t stand to come and still need her the way he did. The mating would force more from him whether he had it or not. It had happened before. So he grit his teeth and concentrated on holding back, even as Hermione hollowed out her cheeks and began to suck.

Suddenly, Fleur removed her fingers, muttered a complicated incantation, and he glanced back at her. “Not so beeg for you, my love. Not zis first time.”

He opened his mouth to thank her, but moaned instead as she began to push her cock inside him. When he felt her body pressed tight against his arse, Bill could barely breathe between the sensations of her cock inside him and his own in Hermione’s warm, wet mouth. The heat inside him, the need, was making him sweat. “Please, Fleur,” he begged again.

With that, she pulled out and then pushed in again, pushing his back down so that the angle changed. Suddenly, she was hitting a spot he had never felt before and there was nothing Bill could do to hold back. Her cock rammed in and out of him, Fleur breathing hard behind him, as Bill fell apart, his cock spurting into Hermione’s mouth as she swallowed it all down.

He felt warmth flood the inside of his arse and knew from the sweet sounds she was making that Fleur had come as well. Finally the burning need inside him was quenched, the mating fulfilled. He slumped forward onto the table, unable to hold himself up any longer.

When he was able to see or hear or even think again, Fleur was whispering sweet loving nothings as she helped Hermione up off her knees. With Hermione up, Fleur turned to him, making calming, soothing noises as she gently lifted his torso so that he was propped between the two women instead.

“Come, Beel, we must find ze bed and rest.”

“Yes,” he murmured in agreement, too far gone to even consider anything else. There had been things he wanted to talk about, he was certain, but they would wait until morning. For now, he just needed sleep. Judging from the exhausted look in Hermione’s eyes, she was much the same. Fleur looked energized, but then, she always did after a mating.

“You take care of our petit chou. I weel go take care of ze croissants before I sleep,” she told them.

Bill was more than happy to let her tell him what to do. He curled around Hermione, waiting for Fleur to finish the baking so he could cuddle both of them before falling asleep. He failed, but he didn’t know what a sweet sight he and their wife were to Fleur when she returned to the bed and snuggled in on Hermione’s other side, enjoying her husband’s obvious love and care for the girl who had become so important to them both.

Chapter 34

Notes:

My muse has become obsessed with this story at the moment, so I may be updating a little more regularly for the moment. We'll see what happens.

Thank you to LadyWinterlight, bondgirltrb, and AStrangefan who, as always, help me with this so much. I am also welcoming JadeChipmunk to the team as a continuity editor. She hasn't gone over this chapter yet so if I still have continuity issues, it's all my fault - it always is, really - but the work she's doing on this is mind blowing already. Once it's caught up... well, I might actually have a more organized story that doesn't drop plot strings or outright contradict itself.

UPDATE 5/25/2023: I should have waited on JadeChipmunk before I posted as there was a major continuity error in this chapter. Thank you to MarianaHallows for pointing it out! It is fixed now, by changing a few things around back in chapter 24. I'll explain in the end notes.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Hermione managed an entire shower by herself. She was thrilled when she heard the sounds of Bill and Fleur talking and laughing together out in the kitchen instead of one or both of them joining her. As much as she would have enjoyed more of that, she missed just being an independent person some days.

When she finally emerged from the bedroom fully dressed, the croissants they had baked the night before were already on the table, magically warmed and perfect. Fleur waved her to sit down and brought tea over, made just the way she liked it, before sitting down next to her.

“What have you two been out here talking about?” Hermione asked playfully.

She was surprised when Bill and Fleur looked at each other with suddenly serious faces. “We deed not mean you any disrespect,” Fleur said.

Hermione felt her brows drawing together. “What do you mean?”

“We forget ourselves sometimes, when we’re flirting. We forget that it’s not just the two of us anymore,” Bill tried to explain, but it still wasn’t making sense to Hermione.

“I don’t feel neglected,” Hermione said slowly, wondering if they were trying to say they shouldn’t have let her shower alone. That was a notion they needed to get past!

“Good,” Fleur said. “That eez good.” She looked uncomfortable. “We were teasing about last night.”

“And then the talk became more serious,” Bill explained.

“What’s so serious?” Hermione asked, hoping to make light of whatever had them walking on eggshells.

“A baby,” Fleur said almost reverently.

“We promised each other we would have one after the war. But this was the first time it’s come up. And I— we— well, it feels wrong to talk about it without talking to you, too,” Bill said, finally giving a real explanation.

Smiling, Hermione said, “I’m so glad you’re talking about it again. Are you going to start trying now?”

The two looked at each other. It was Fleur who said, “You are not angry that I might ‘ave ‘is first child?”

“Would the two of you be angry if I said I want you to have all of his children?” Hermione countered. She hadn’t really spent any time thinking about it before this moment, but the words popped right out anyway.

Bill’s eyebrows raised. “As Lady Weasley—”

“I’ll be expected to produce Weasley children. Who outside our family is to say who the father of my children are, when I get around to having them?”

“But my eldest son will inherit the Lordship,” Bill protested.

With a huff, Hermione said, “If the position of Lady Weasley wields any power whatsoever, that will be changing. Your eldest child will inherit the title, not just the boy.”

“And you would be ‘appy even eef eet were one of my children?” Fleur asked hesitantly.

“Of course!” Hermione cried. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Yes,” they answered together.

She rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help it. “You are my wife, Fleur. I hope you’ll consider your children our children. I don’t care who gives birth to the next Lord or Lady Weasley.”

Clearing his throat, Bill said, “I’m not sure we’ll be able to change the line of succession. It’s ancient magic that ties back to the Legacies and—”

“And we can create a ritual for it. I’m confident it’s possible,” Hermione said almost flippantly as she buttered her croissant and took her first bite.

“You are amazing, Hermione Weasley,” Bill stated, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. She had the feeling he wanted more, but she was quite interested in her breakfast.

“I try,” she replied. “So when will you begin trying?”

“Zis afternoon,” Fleur said, sounding almost sad. “Beel ‘as meetings until zen.”

“Meetings about what?” Hermione asked curiously between bites.

“The bloody Wizengamot,” Bill groaned while Fleur laughed at him. “First up I’m to meet with Lady Longbottom, Lord Abbott, and Lord Pritchard. I asked for this one. I’m hoping they’ll be willing to give a quick training session or two for all the new Noble houses.”

“That’s a fantastic idea!” Hermione gushed. “Can the delegates from the Muggleborn Coalition join as well?”

“I’ll ask, and if they say no, I’ll give you the memories to play for them,” Bill promised.

Sighing at the possibility they wouldn’t be allowed, Hermione mentally added a pensieve to her list of things they would need to acquire. “Is that your only meeting this morning?” she asked.

“I wish it were,” Bill told her. “I’m to meet Kingsley before lunch. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m sure it has something to do with the Wizengamot. After that, I need to get to work on the bill I’m drafting.”

“I could help you with that,” Hermione suggested.

“Aren’t you already helping Harry?” he asked.

“I can help both of you,” she answered.

Laughing, Bill said, “I know you can, but we don’t want to burn you out before you even get in there to change the world.”

“We still don’t know that I’m going to have a seat,” she reminded him.

“And I am still determined to give you one of mine if you don’t get voted on by the Muggleborn Coalition — which you will.”

“There are plenty of Weasleys. There’s no need to give me one of those seats,” Hermione stated.

He shrugged. “We’ll see what happens.”

It wasn’t the answer she was looking for, but she knew it was the best she would get for now. Honestly, Hermione would be perfectly happy to be the person behind all the bills — helping write them but not on the Wizengamot herself.

“Oh!” she cried suddenly. “I’ve got to get to Harry’s. I promised him we would work on his bill this morning.”

Even in her rush, Hermione took the time to give each of her loves a thorough kiss goodbye — and to grab one more croissant for the road.

**********

Harry awoke to the sound of the Floo igniting and someone coming through. He groaned and tried to roll out of the bed onto his feet. He failed and landed flat on his face with a thud instead.

“Was that you, Harry?” Hermione called up the stairs. “You’re still in bed, aren’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer, prattling about the kitchen instead, a steady stream of chatter on her lips.

“Not in bed now,” he grumbled. His last couple of days had been busy. Kingsley had wanted to meet. He had spent some time with Neville, as well. Beyond that, he wasn’t doing anything terribly important other than working on his bill, but during the rest of his time, Harry had started working on renovating Grimmauld Place.

He had been surprised to discover how peaceful he found the work — cleaning, moving furniture, ripping down ancient curtains and wallpaper. The place was looking brighter now that you could see most of the windows, but everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

Molly’s improvements during their fifth year had all but disappeared. That wouldn’t happen again, though. Harry was determined to make this place livable and then, he thought, he was going to sell it.

He knew now that he had other, better properties he could move to — if he even needed them. As much as he wanted to be self-sufficient, he also badly wanted to live with his family. This place, in a way, was his biggest tie to Sirius. But it was also the place his godfather had hated the most. He had photos to look at and remember. It was well past time for this place to have new life.

Shaking his head, Harry pulled himself off the floor as the scent of blessed coffee began to waft up to him. He was fairly certain Hermione was using magic to make sure he smelled it, but he didn’t care. The siren call of coffee got him moving nonetheless.

A few minutes later, Harry made it into the kitchen, somewhat freshened up though he was still in his pyjamas. He wasn’t leaving the house, after all, so why should he get properly dressed when there was coffee calling his name and only Hermione over?

Settled at the table with her cup of tea, Hermione looked prepared for their day. She had parchments of lists spread out around her and was sipping her tea as she read them. Harry’s coffee — well creamed and undoubtedly with the perfect amount of sugar — was steaming across the table from her.

“What’s all this?” he asked, then wanted to slap himself in the face for the stupidity of the question.

Indeed, Hermione looked up at him with a frown. “We’re supposed to work on your bill, remember?”

“Yes, I remember. I just… I had thought we would work in the library,” Harry tried to salvage his moment of stupidity.

“Oh, we will. I’m just going over a few things I thought you might want to take into consideration,” she explained.

He blinked as he looked around the table at all of her work. Hermione seemed to realize what he wasn’t saying and blushed. “This isn’t all for your bill, Harry! I needed to add a couple of things to my lists for the Coalition and for Bill’s bill, too. I just thought I would do them all while I was waiting.”

There was no judgment in her tone when Hermione said she was waiting. She knew him far too well to have thought that he would be up and ready. Still, she was looking him over rather critically. “Are you aware you have cobwebs in your hair?”

Harry groaned. “Sorry! I was working on the sitting room last night and it’s such a mess.”

“I noticed that it’s brighter in there,” Hermione said with a smile. She heartily approved of what he was doing to the place, though he wasn’t sure what she would think of his plan to sell it once he was done. For some reason, he was afraid to ask.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Those nasty old curtains had to go. Taking them down made everything dusty again, though.”

“You’ll get it cleaned up. I could help,” she offered.

Shaking his head, Harry said, “This is my project. Besides, we’ll have plenty to do at Hogwarts this afternoon, remember?”

“I remember,” Hermione said with a smile. Ron had agreed to join them as well, and Harry could tell she was looking forward to having some time with just the three of them. Merlin knew he was looking forward to it.

He just wished it weren’t at Hogwarts. Harry withheld the shudder that was trying to fight its way out at the idea of working in the rubble of the castle. He had been inside the new Headmistress’s office and been fine. And he had walked the path from Hogsmeade to get there. Back then, he had just been glad Hogwarts was still standing.

Now… Harry wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but he knew it wasn’t good. His heart jumped and his skin crawled when he thought about being in the place where so many of their loved ones had passed, where so many more fought for their lives. But Hogwarts would be back to her former glory by September. And for that, they needed everyone helping.

Besides, as Kingsley had pointed out when they met yesterday, people needed to see him out and about, needed to be reminded that the Boy Who Lived was now the Boy Who Conquered. Stupid names, both of them, but Harry understood his point. To live up to his part of the deal the three of them had made, he needed to be seen. And tomorrow’s publicity appearance alone wouldn’t be enough.

Harry hid his thoughts in his mug of coffee, but of course Hermione noticed his mood anyway. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” he answered with false cheer. When she gave him a pointed look, Harry stretched and yawned. “I’m just wondering why I agreed to this so early in the morning.”

“Early?” she asked. “It’s nearly ten!”

“Like I said,” Harry told her with a grin he couldn’t hide, “Early.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and sweetly asked, “Are you bringing the rest of your coffee with us or should I pour it over your head?” She was gathering her lists as she asked and tucking them away into her little beaded bag.

“Oi!” Harry complained, but he laughed, too, as he fixed himself another cup and followed Hermione out of the kitchen.

He almost ran into her back as they came into the library and Harry grinned to himself. It was the first room he had finished. Instead of the dark, dusty room she was expecting, Hermione was finding the light, comfy, and inviting room he had created.

Over her shoulder, he could see the creamy walls with their extra sconces to brighten the place up at night. Right now, the sun was shining, lighting up the whole room, but specifically enshrining the window seat he had put in. The shelves and library tables were still there, but he had stripped them of their ancient black varnish and redone them with a lighter glaze that allowed the natural, warm shade of the oak to take over.

To the side as they came in, there had always been a seating area, but the sofas so stiff they could barely be sat on were gone. In their place was a seating arrangement reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room, complete with cushy sofa and chairs around the fireplace. The whole room was practically sparkling from how hard he had worked to clean it. Even the books had been cleaned, though magically, and very carefully.

“Harry,” Hermione breathed reverently. “This is amazing.” She hadn’t turned to him to say it, but he could feel the awe he knew was written on her face.

Beaming, he replied with a simple, “Thank you.” After a few more moments letting her soak it all in, he nudged her side, painfully aware in that moment how close they were to one another, and said, “You should go in and use it. I prepared this room first because I knew we would be using it the most.”

“Okay,” Hermione whispered, practically tiptoeing over to the big library table and carefully pulling out a chair. Harry knew if Ron were there they both would be laughing at her behavior, but he was glad he got to witness this alone. She was right. The room felt like a real library now.

Harry walked over to his desk, inconspicuously tucked into the back corner, and picked up the folder he had prepared of his research on the orphans, figures that would help him decipher what to do to help them, and samples of past bills to model this one off of.

Thank Merlin he didn’t have to put it in the more official, legal terminology. Even with Hermione’s help he wasn’t sure they could have accomplished that. Percy had offered to take his and Bill’s work in hand once they laid out what they wanted and put them in the proper language. Hermione probably wouldn’t admit it, but she was relieved, too.

When Harry plopped his folder down across from her, Hermione blinked at him. “What’s that?” she asked.

“My research,” Harry shared with her, shoving the papers across the table for her perusal.

As she looked over them, she looked more and more stunned. “Harry, you’ve taken this so seriously!” she finally said.

“It’s important work,” he told her, proud that he hadn’t snapped back or acted offended. He was, a little, but Harry also knew this was out of character for him. “I want magical orphans to be cared for in ways I never was. This war orphaned too many, but I also want it to extend to any magical orphan, now and in the future.”

“That may make it harder to get passed,” Hermione pointed out.

“Perhaps, but now is the very best time to push it through. I believe it could be accomplished simply by talking about war orphans in relation to the bill, but never stating what kind of orphans in the bill itself,” Harry asserted. He had been thinking about this a lot.

“Would this extend even to muggleborn orphans?” she asked next.

“If we can figure out how to word it properly,” Harry said with a nod. “At the very least those who are eleven or older, but hopefully we can find a way to save the younger ones as well.”

Hermione pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and her nicest quill. “Do you know what you want to call this bill?”

“From the draft samples I have, we keep it very simple. But it seems like attaching a name to it can sometimes garner more support,” he said, a little nervously.

“That’s probably true, depending on the name. Who were you thinking of naming it after?”

“Me,” Harry said, even more nervously.

“Are you sure?” she asked carefully. “I know how you hate to use your celebrity.”

“I do, but it’s worth it for the good it could do.”

Hermione smiled at him. “Then I think it’s a marvelous idea.” Across the top of the parchment, she wrote, The Harry Potter Orphans Bill: A bill to ensure the welfare of magical orphans.

“Now, what are the main things you want the bill to cover?” she asked.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “First of all, the parents’ will should be consulted even if it is otherwise tied up to see who the child should or should not go to. If the will does not suggest anyone, the child could be offered to family only if the family wants them and only if the social workers inspect and approve them, like they would in the muggle world.”

“That’s a splendid idea,” Hermione interrupted, “but Harry, there are no social workers in the magical world.”

“Then it’s time that changed. Are there any muggleborn social workers who might want to start the department?” he asked after a moment of thought.

With a smile, she nodded. “I know just the right person to help us with that.”

“The thing is,” Harry worried, “How do we make sure that we control who sets it up?”

Hermione bit her lower lip. “Well, there’s only one way I know of, but it would be your choice.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Money,” she said simply. She didn’t have to explain any further. Harry understood. If he backed the bill financially, he would have a much greater say in what happened with it afterward.

“I had hoped it would mostly be funded through reparations, but there are plenty of other places that money is needed as well,” Harry mused.

“True. But you can specify that you will front the start-up costs of the department. The Death Eaters could still fund the long-term cost of the children who can’t easily be placed. I hate to say it, but there are reasons some of them landed in orphanages in the past.”

He nodded. “There will be magical orphanages this time. And they will accept muggleborns, though I’m not sure if that needs to be written into the bill itself. I don’t think so.”

“I don’t think so either,” Hermione agreed. “How much control do you want over them?”

An idea suddenly struck Harry. “I’m going to give them this house!” he practically shouted.

“You’re what?” she asked.

“Grimmauld Place,” he said. “I was planning to sell it once I get it in good enough shape, but I could give it to the orphans instead. It’s huge, plenty of room for lots of kids.”

“And it gives you more control over how things are run,” Hermione noted with a sly smile. “I like it. But…”

“Yes?”

“The work you’re doing is amazing, Harry, but the house will need to be available as soon as possible, as soon as the bill passes,” she fretted.

Running his hand through his hair again, Harry braced himself for a fight. “I know how you feel about them, Hermione, but a couple of house elves could help me finish this work quickly and be helpful for a house full of children.” Not daring to look at her expression, he rushed on, “It would give the adults more time to focus on the kids and—”

“Harry, I think that’s a great idea. There are a lot of displaced house elves, too, and I understand now that they need a family or at least a place to attach to. I still intend for them to have rights so that they can be free if they want to be and so that the kind of abuse Dobby faced doesn’t happen, but I think having a couple here is a splendid idea.”

His jaw was hanging open. “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Hermione admonished him. “I can admit when I’m wrong.”

“You can?” Harry said, too dumbfounded to be wary until she was glaring at him. “Sorry, sorry. Of course you can!”

She cleared her throat and asked primly, “So what else needs to go in this bill?”

“Welfare check-ups,” Harry said insistently, “at least twice a year.”

Hermione’s quill was flying as she wrote that out in what Harry was sure was a more formal way. While Percy’s help would be essential, he knew the man wouldn’t have to do too much work with Hermione writing everything out.

When she finished, Hermione said, “This seems very thorough. Is there anything else?”

“Well,” Harry hesitated, “Not about the bill.”

She looked up at him sharply, at the way his voice sounded a little unsteady. “What’s wrong?”

“I have a big question for you, but this is something I would really like for you to do for me.”

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, looking perplexed.

Formally, Harry asked, “As Lord Black, I wish to know if you would consent to being my proxy on the Wizengamot?”

Staring at him in surprise, Hermione said, “Well I don’t know if Bill was going to—”

“Bill has five brothers and a sister he could appoint, or leave the Prewett seat with his Aunt. I just have you to ask,” he emphasized.

“That’s not true. Any number of our friends…” she trailed off. Most of them would have their own seats now. He probably could pick someone else, but he could see her eyes calculating the sensibility of it and coming to the same conclusion he had.

“I know you would like some time to think about it, but we’re a bit short on that,” Harry said seriously. He hated to pressure her, but he needed to know the Black seat was covered.

“It’s okay,” Hermione said, slowly beginning to nod. “I would be honored to take the seat for the Black family.” She grinned. “I, a muggleborn, am thrilled to represent one of the most backward, bigoted families in the wizarding world.”

Harry threw back his head and laughed. He hadn’t thought of it that way, but she was right. This was perfect.

*******

Percy ushered his oldest brother into the office, hoping this would go quickly. The next meeting was scheduled for after lunch so if things with Bill moved fast enough, it was possible Percy would finally have time to talk with Kingsley again.

The last few days had been so brutal in the office that they had barely had time to make eye contact, much less have an actual conversation. Percy felt like he might lose his mind if they didn’t talk soon. Kingsley touched him whenever he could — small touches, casual to the outside observer — but it wasn’t enough.

“Lord Weasley,” Kingsley greeted, bowing as the Minister of Magic was required to do with Lords and Ladies of the Noble Houses. “Thank you for coming today.”

“Of course, Minister,” Bill answered with a slight bow in return. He wasn’t required to do that, but Percy was glad he had. He could see the tension in Kingsley’s shoulders easing slightly. “What can I help you with?”

“I want to discuss your Wizengamot seats. As the Head of both the Noble House of Weasley and the Noble House of Prewett, you have two to fill — unless you intend to leave your Aunt Muriel in the Prewett seat?”

Bill shook his head as he took the seat Kingsley gestured to, “I had considered it, honestly, until she assured me she would vote against a piece of legislation I intend to bring to the floor.”

Kingsley’s eyebrows raised and Percy knew he was dying of curiosity as to what legislation that might be. Thankfully, Bill answered the unspoken question with a sad smile. “I’m calling it the Remus Lupin bill.”

He didn’t need to explain any further. Kingsley nodded. “That may be hard to push through, even with all the changes to the Wizengamot, but if it will ever pass, now is the time.”

“So who is it you want me to put in the Prewett seat?” Bill abruptly changed the subject, skipping straight to the heart of the issue.

Kingsley barked a laugh. He wasn’t used to that kind of frankness, Percy knew. “Ronald,” Kingsley answered.

“Ron?” Bill asked in surprise. Percy was just as shocked.

“Harry is Lord Potter and Lord Black. Hermione will be there with her Muggleborns. If Ronald joins in one of your seats, it will complete the Golden Trio in the Wizengamot. They can lead our world into the modern era,” Kingsley explained.

Bill nodded slowly, but he said, “I can see what you’re thinking, but I don’t know that it’s the best idea. Ron is hot-tempered and sloppy in his mannerisms. He’s also in Auror training and might not be available—”

“Any Auror who has a seat is excused from their regular duties to attend,” Kingsley stated officially. He nodded to Percy to ensure he knew that was a decree. “Actually, all Ministry personnel who are on the Wizengamot are excused from their jobs on days that the body meets. We will need to decree that students fall under this as well — both trainees here and students at Hogwarts,” he added with a sigh. That was a problem they had never had before, or rarely enough that it hadn’t required an official statement.

Sighing, Bill said, “I will consider it, but I’m not promising, Kings.”

“You think there are better options?” he asked. “Percy here will already be there in an official capacity.”

“Of course,” Bill agreed. “But there are the twins as well.”

Now Kingsley was shocked. “You would turn one of them loose in the Wizengamot over Ronald?”

Smirking, Bill said, “I just might. The Prewett seat was traditionally held by the eldest twin each generation.”

Kingsley buried his face in his hands. “Please tell me you’re having me on.”

“I’m not,” Bill told him, “but I’ll talk to Hermione and get her opinion before I ask either of them. I have officially named her Lady of House Weasley.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Kingsley offered. “She deserves the position.”

“Fleur is just as worthy—”

“I don’t disagree!” Kingsley said with his hands up in surrender. “Fleur is brilliant, but Hermione belongs to the whole family.”

“It’s better said that we belong to her,” Bill noted, looking to Percy seeking his confirmation. He gave his brother a short nod. It was true, but this wasn’t the moment he wanted Kingsley reminded of that fact.

“Indeed,” Kingsley replied, his shoulders tightening again.

“Was there anything else you needed me for?” Bill asked.

It was so abrupt that Kingsley blinked at him, seeming unsure what to say. “I believe that was all you had on your agenda,” Percy told his boss, hoping Bill would truly leave that quickly.

A raised eyebrow came his way, but Percy maintained his neutral look. It wasn’t time yet to show how much he wanted to be alone with the man. “That was all,” Kingsley concurred. “Are you in a hurry?”

“My Fleur and I have decided to try for a baby,” he answered, shocking Kingsley and Percy both.

“You intend to have a child with your secondary wife before the Lady of your House?” Kingsley asked.

Percy, though, was nodding in understanding. “Hermione isn’t ready for children yet,” he offered.

“But the heir—” Kingsley protested.

“Hermione doesn’t mind. She even wants to create a ritual that will change our family legacy to accept the firstborn as heir instead of the first boy,” Bill said with a fond smile.

“Then enjoy the rest of your day,” Kingsley said with a hearty laugh.

When his brother had departed, Percy breathed a sigh of relief. He almost didn’t catch Kingsley’s movement toward him, just realizing his intent in time to capture the back of the man’s robes and yank him close, taking control of the kiss before it began.

The kiss was passionate, desperate, clashing teeth, dueling tongues, and their hands tugging desperately at one another’s robes. Finally, Percy pushed Kingsley away from him, his hands on either of the other man’s shoulders. He was breathing so hard it took Percy a moment to voice his command.

“Bend over the table,” he demanded.

“For what?” Kingsley asked.

“You will not question me,” Percy insisted, shaking him slightly.

“Yes, Master,” Kingsley answered, bowing his head.

“We haven’t—”

“You are my Master whether you accept me or not,” Kingsley said simply, bracing himself on the desk turned away from Percy.

“I will accept you if you prove you can take me today,” Percy said, the words slipping out of his mouth without his consent. He had meant to talk first, not bully his sub into accepting something he might not want.

Kingsley turned his head so that their eyes met. The look there told Percy everything he needed to know. Words were so unnecessary between them now.

He gathered the back of Kingsley’s robes, rolling them up and using a sticking charm to hold them up above his arse. Of course his well tailored trousers were still in the way, but a quick Evanesco took care of those and his pants. “You won’t need those under your robes the rest of today, I trust?” Percy questioned with a chuckle in his voice.

“Of course not, Master,” Kingsley told him, making Percy smile. He knew the man would feel exposed the rest of the day, but that thought made him feel even better about this.

He used one spell to internally clean his subject, and another to lubricate his fingers, then Percy was pushing his finger slowly into Kingsley’s arse as the man leaned over his desk and moaned quietly. A wave of Percy’s hand and the door was locked, the room soundproofed. He heard Kingsley breathe a sigh of relief before letting himself be more vocal.

Percy smiled at the sounds as he worked a second finger in, his other hand reaching around Kingsley’s chest to toy with his nipples. Not all men enjoyed that, but considering the nipple clamps they had used in the past, Percy knew that this one did. He was rewarded with more sounds and, the sweetest of all, his name on Kingsley’s lips, uttered like a desperate prayer.

“What happened to Master?” he asked nonetheless.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Kingsley immediately apologized. “I meant no disrespect.”

Twisting his nipple painfully, Percy told him, “There will be punishment for it, of course, but it is the sweetest thing I will ever punish you for.”

He swore he could feel Kingsley’s smile from behind. The man pushed back into his hand and Percy inserted a third finger. He would need that to keep from being hurt by him. Percy wasn’t small and they had never done this before. He wasn’t sure if Kingsley had ever done this. “Have you—” he started.

“Never,” Kingsley answered. “I’ve only been with women before you.”

Percy grinned despite himself. He loved the idea that he would be the only one who had ever claimed Kingsley this way. “I’m not small,” he warned. “This will hurt at first, even with magic.”

“I know. Please, Master,” he begged.

Casting the lubrication spell on his hardened cock, Percy removed his fingers and lined himself up instead. As his tip breeched Kingsley’s hole and the man went rigid, Percy said, “Use the Red/Yellow/Green system as we usually do. Where are you?”

Kingsley’s voice was strained when he answered, but the tone was joyful when he said, “Green.”

“Good boy,” Percy praised, pushing in another inch carefully. Kingsley groaned and panted, but pushed his arse back against Percy’s cock so he could get more inside himself.

Slowly, Percy pushed all the way in, checking with Kingsley all along the way. When he started to struggle more with an inch left to push in, Percy distracted him with a lubrication spell and his hand wrapped around Kingsley’s cock, pumping it slowly as he buried himself that last little bit.

When he was finally fully seated inside Kingsley, the other man sweating and nearly crying with need beneath him, Percy asked, “Are you still green?”

“Yes,” Kingsley gasped. “Please, I want more.”

“I don’t have any more,” Percy teased.

“Fuck me,” he begged, and Percy generously began pulling back out.

He kept things slow at first, but soon enough, he was slamming into Kingsley hard enough to rock the man up on his tiptoes with every thrust, leaning heavily against the desk as he took Percy’s cock like he had been born to do it.

“You’re doing so good,” Percy said. “Just a little more of this and I’m going to fill your arse with my come,” he told him, making Kingsley shudder.

“Please, may I come, Master?” he asked, and Percy nibbled at his ear as he considered it, their bodies pressed tight and his cock buried to the hilt again. It was the moments where he stopped like this that he could already tell drove Kingsley mad.

“When I do, I suppose,” Percy granted.

With that, he pulled back out and slammed into the other man, making sure to graze his prostate on the way, his hand stroking Kingsley’s hard cock quickly. Technically, it was Kingsley who exploded first, but Percy had pushed him over that edge. His convulsing body brought Percy’s own orgasm and he collapsed against Kingsley, pushing his torso down against the desk.

They were both a panting, breathless mess as Percy pulled Kingsley’s face around to kiss him hard. “Now you belong to me,” Percy declared when his lips had ceased their bruising pressure.

“I already did,” Kingsley said. Then his eyes flicked to the door. “But I also belong to the people, and I can’t be caught like this.”

Percy gave him a lazy grin. “Isn’t that a shame?” he asked teasingly. “What if I want to go again?”

“I’m not sure what’s next in the schedule,” Kingsley admitted, worry on his brow.

“And you don’t trust me to know and keep it in mind?” Percy questioned him.

It took a moment, but the man’s body slowly relaxed against him. “Whatever you think is best, Master.”

“Very good,” Percy praised. “But you’re right. We don’t want to leave the office locked up like this for too long. And next on our agenda is our first date.” As he spoke, he stepped away from Kingsley’s body, scourgified them both, unstuck the back of Kingsley’s robes so that they fell regally once more, and fastened his own trousers.

“Percy, in public, we can’t—”

Even though he knew it was true and had every intention of keeping this quiet, Kingsley’s immediate need to point it out hurt just a bit. “I know that,” Percy snapped before moderating his tone. “I meant we can have a lunch date here in the office, even if it’s mostly talking work.”

“Does it count as a date if we eat together that way every day?” Kingsley asked with an apologetic smile. He clearly knew he had upset Percy.

“It does now. We’re going to spend a lot of time dating,” Percy confirmed. He was looking forward to it, even if it wouldn’t look like anything had changed. They knew how different things were now, and that’s what mattered. “We have a lot to talk about.”

**********

The castle rose in front of them and Ron had to hold back his gasp as it came into view. He had heard how bad it was, of course, but he hadn’t personally been back to see it.

“It’s hard to look at it from here,” Hermione commented as the three of them stood frozen at the crest of the hill from Hogsmeade. She cleared her throat and Ron was sure she was holding back more emotion, but her tone was crisp when she added, “But it gets a little better every day, and we’re going to ensure it’s ready by September.”

She squared her shoulders and started down the hill, so Ron followed her. It took him a moment to notice that Harry hadn’t moved. Hermione turned, too, when Ron stopped to look back. “What’s wrong?”

There were tears tracking down Harry’s face, but he just shook his head and started after them. “Harry, it’s—” Hermione began.

“It’s not okay!” their best friend burst out. “Don’t say it is! This is my fault. I brought the battle here, to my home, the first one I ever had!”

“Voldemort brought the battle here,” Hermione corrected, but Ron understood what Harry meant. If they hadn’t appeared at the school, maybe it would have happened somewhere else. Maybe the castle wouldn’t have come so close to being destroyed. Maybe… so many maybes.

“I did—” Harry started to say, but Ron had enough.

Instead of letting them continue, he interrupted loudly with, “Where do you think they want us to work? Is there some section everyone is starting on? A central station to organize who does what work?”

“No,” Hermione said. “As far as I’ve seen, everyone just sees something they think should be done and works on it.”

Ron stared at her. “You don’t think they should have lists? And someone in charge to coordinate everything?”

Hermione pursed her lips. “Well yes, of course they should. But this is all on a volunteer basis and no one has volunteered to take over thus far.”

“They need a contractor here,” Harry ventured, his emotions seeming under control now that he was distracted by their conversation.

“What’s a contractor?” Ron asked. It had to be something muggle.

“Don’t you have people, companies, who do big building projects?” Hermione asked

“We as in wizards don’t. If something needs to be built, we hire the goblins or get house elves. Or do it like Dad built up the Burrow as we needed more space,” Ron explained. “Do muggles really hire another person to build for them?”

“They really do,” Harry confirmed. “I wonder if… Hermione, are any of your muggleborn contacts in the construction world?”

“There might be a few,” she ventured. “But it will take a while before they could help, I’m sure. Hogwarts can’t wait. And if they had muggles on their crew, they wouldn’t be able to come.”

“For now… I wonder if McGonagall has a list of everything that needs to be done,” Ron suggested.

Staring at him, Hermione said, “That’s a good idea, Ronald.”

“I have them sometimes,” he asserted with a grin. It pleased him that she had noticed, and that Harry too was looking at him appreciatively.

They passed several groups of people working on different areas of the castle before they got to the main courtyard, one reconstructing part of a tower, a group clearing out Hagrid’s garden, and a couple of people stacking stones around the edge of the main courtyard.

All were things that would need to be done, but Ron could see that they likely weren’t the first things that should be done. Nor were the people distributed properly as the bloke working on the tower could use some help. If they didn’t find McGonagall, he knew that was where they should go to help.

The Great Hall was still open to the Courtyard and it left Ron shaking his head. That should be one of the first things to be fixed. The three of them wandered inside, Harry looking shell shocked at the destruction while Hermione led the way easily toward the Headmistress’ office, seemingly unaffected by what they were seeing. He supposed she had been here the most and seen more of these parts of the castle on her trips.

At the entrance to the office, she whispered, “Gryffindors rule,” and the gargoyles opened, the staircase spiraling up.

“Hermione!” McGonagall greeted warmly. “And Harry and Ron?” she tacked on as she saw them. “What brings you all here today? And from out there?”

“We came to volunteer, but it doesn’t seem very organized,” Hermione explained. Ron watched as McGonagall’s face fell.

“It isn’t,” she agreed. “I had hoped to have more time to supervise, but I’m buried trying to find teachers and work out curriculums for people who will only agree to teach if they don’t have to write their own.”

“You did receive Mary Catermole’s resume for the Muggle Studies course?” Hermione asked.

“I did,” the elderly Professor said with a fond smile. “Thankfully that one can write her own curriculum. I wouldn’t know enough to be of much help, I fear.”

“Unless someone needed to learn muggle party dances,” Harry noted with a small smile.

The Headmistress shot him a look that should have reduced him to a puddle of fear, but Harry just grinned cheekily. Ron was impressed.

“Do any of the other Professors have time to be in charge of the repairs?” Ron asked. He wanted to keep them on track.

“Unfortunately, no,” McGonagall said, looking concerned. “I have precious few of the staff left, and those that are here are trying to fix their own areas of the castle or help with the curriculum problems.”

“Maybe I could—” Hermione started, but Ron cut her off.

“Right now we need to focus on helping get this physical place in order, Mione. Professor, is there a list of the things that need to be done?”

“Yes, and I’ve tried to mark things off as I’ve noticed people working on them,” she said, pulling a long scroll of parchment off her desk.

Harry gasped as it rolled out and along the floor. There was so much that needed doing. Ron agreed, but they couldn’t let it overwhelm them. “What do you think is most important to start on?” he asked.

“The walls probably need to be fortified first, but I have to admit I wish we would finish the Great Hall first. I think it would be heartening to see it back in order,” she said with a sad sigh.

“Then we’ll start there,” Ron determined. “If we set up lists of what needs to be worked on when, could a Professor dedicate maybe a half hour each morning to directing the day’s volunteers to the appropriate area?”

“We could do that,” she agreed after a moment to consider.

“Perfect,” Ron said, looking at the list over Hermione’s shoulder. “Mione, can you find all the items to do with the Great Hall and organize them into one list?”

“Of course,” she agreed, looking at him with a smile. She nudged his shoulder. “I love it when you get caught up in the strategy of a thing.”

“Harry,” he commanded, “Can you go round up today’s volunteers? If that tower isn’t stable enough to leave it, have everyone help the fellow before coming back.”

“I can do that,” Harry agreed. He headed out with his head hung down and Ron had a moment of worry for his friend. When his eyes met Hermione’s, he knew she would find out what was bugging Harry. Ron would just try to be funny and get him out of his mood.

Turning back to the Headmistress, he asked, “Where are the house elves? Could they help?”

“They are. I just don’t want word to get out. The foundation crumbled in places, and they’re working to fix that. It’s delicate work and they can’t rush it or the whole castle could fall in. When they finish that, much of the dungeons need to be reconstructed and that’s work best left to them as well. Some of them might be able to help sometimes, but there aren’t enough since the battle to completely get the castle put back together.” She sniffled, and Ron pretended he didn’t see a tear in her eye.

Looking at the list that Hermione was rapidly putting together, Ron nodded. “I’m glad they’re working on those things. I think we’ll be able to get a lot done if the rest of us organize this way.”

“I appreciate the work you’re doing,” the Headmistress said. “But I’m afraid I have a meeting and need you to do it in the Great Hall, please.”

“Of course. Sorry,” Hermione immediately apologized. “We didn’t think about everything else you might be doing.”

“Quite all right, dear,” McGonagall said, making Ron do a double take at her. Hermione and the Headmistress seemed much closer than he remembered. All duties of communicating with McGonagall were being assigned to Hermione.

**********

Charlie emerged from the Floo in his best dress robes, having run home just to get them. This wasn’t an interview, but it was an official meeting with the Headmistress he worked under. Furthermore, he wasn’t sure what it was about. The clothes made him feel more prepared for something official like this.

“Professor Weasley,” Minerva said in greeting. “You look put together today.”

“I clean up well,” he acknowledged with a smile. Merlin, he hated small talk. “What did you need to see me about today?”

“First of all, have a seat.” To his surprise, she did not wave him over to the desk, instead gesturing toward the tea table at the other end of the room. It was set for three. Perhaps one of the other Professors would be joining them.

As he sat, she continued, “I wanted to tell you in person that I have approved the first term’s curriculum. I will be getting to the rest of it as soon as I can, but I’m just assessing the beginning of the year for the moment.”

“That’s understandable,” he said. “Thank you. I’m glad it was approved.”

“Understand that it is not just approved. I am thrilled at the higher standards we can expect from your class, Professor. You’re going to be a brilliant teacher, Charles.”

He blushed furiously. “Thank you, Professor McGonagall.”

“I’m Minerva now, remember?”

“Of course,” Charlie agreed, though he knew it would still be a while before he got used to that.

“The second thing I need from you… I’m afraid it won’t be as pleasant.”

Trepidation settled in his gut. He had known there was something about this meeting that wasn’t quite right. He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to go on.

With a sigh, the Headmistress said, “Your mother will be here shortly. She’ll be surprised to see you.”

“That seems like a bad idea,” Charlie said, trying not to feel sick. His mother’s explosions were bad enough at home. He hated it when she acted up in front of people, but in front of his new boss would be particularly awful.

“I didn’t want to have her prepared to face you. Fleur has asked me to try to talk sense into Molly,” Minerva explained.

“What is my role?”

“I want to remind her that you and your siblings are accomplished adults,” she said.

“And you think I’m the best example of that?” he asked, his voice a little strangled.

Minerva sat down next to him and began pouring the tea. “Yes, actually.”

He blinked, trying to process that when the Floo sounded again. Out came his Mum, looking her best in a fancy dress that was decades too old for current fashion. It must be one of Aunt Muriel’s. Still, Molly looked nice. She was smiling when she came through, until her eyes landed on him.

Before she could speak, Charlie rose and walked over, leaning down to kiss her cheek and say, “Hello, Mum.”

“Charlie,” she said, her voice astounded. The last time he and Bill had visited and he had told her about his career change, she hadn’t reacted well. It was only now in this moment that he realized she hadn’t really believed him then. She confirmed his suspicion by saying, “You’re really working here? Professor McGonagall, are you sure?”

Minerva looked her most severe as she said crisply, “Quite. Now do have a seat, Molly, before the tea gets cold.”

To help the process along, Charlie went and pulled out a seat for her. He may not remember much of it, but when he and Bill were little, there had been some lessons of how to behave appropriately, back before there were so many in the family. After he tucked his Mum into the table, carefully avoiding her look of awe, he sat back down and took a long sip of tea for something to do.

“Now Molly,” Minerva began, “It has come to my attention that you’ve been giving your children a hard time about the magic they performed to save the twins’ lives.”

To Charlie’s surprise, Molly said, “Oh, of course I’m so glad they did that, Professor. It’s only that it worries me so much that they may have been unduly influenced by that little witch—”

“Hermione?” Charlie said, his voice radiating his immediate reactionary anger. He was better at controlling it than some of his siblings, but he had every ounce of their Mum’s temper.

“Calm down, dear,” Molly said with a motherly smile, “You’ll spill your tea. I’m just saying that we don’t usually let others work with our Family Legacies. It’s unheard of!” She looked to Minerva for backup.

“It was an extreme situation, Molly,” Minerva replied. “They did the best they could at the time, and the results are miraculous.”

“I would mourn Fred and George for the rest of my life if they had been gone,” Molly acknowledged.

“Yet you still disparage them now that they are alive,” Minerva said, pinning Molly in place with a look. “Just as you didn’t believe me that I would accept your son here as a colleague. Believe it, Molly, because young Charlie is not just a Professor, he’s going to be one of our best, most knowledgeable Professors in the coming year.”

Molly sputtered, finally saying, “I didn’t come here to be attacked.”

“No, I suppose you didn’t,” Minerva muttered before saying more loudly, “Of course not. And your children don’t come to you to be attacked either.”

“My children don’t come to me at all,” Molly said bitterly.

“And why do you think that is?” Minerva asked. Charlie felt like he was at a Quidditch match, his head swinging wildly back and forth to catch every word and expression exchanged between the two women.

“I didn’t come here to be insulted, either,” Molly said. She picked up a biscuit and took a big bite, almost as though she were trying to shut herself up.

“Then I’ll speak plainly to you,” Minerva said. “You are driving your amazing brood of children away. They have done nothing wrong and they are not making any choices to try and hurt you or make you look bad. They are—”

“You think it doesn’t look bad that I have seven children married to one woman?” Molly demanded, her cheeks starting to turn red.

“While not common, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Minerva said primly. Charlie’s feelings toward the Headmistress warmed even further. She had always been one of his favorite Professors. Now she was defending them all like their own mother should have been. “And certainly when you take into account the witch involved—”

“What about the baby!?” Molly screeched, apparently unable to hold in her fury any longer.

There was a pause while it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. When Minerva didn’t say anything, Molly continued, “What about my first grandbaby—its Mummy and Daddy won’t even be married because my baby girl is married to a woman instead. It’s disgusting!”

“Ginevra is pregnant?” Minerva queried, testing her understanding. She looked to Charlie and, much as he didn’t want to, he nodded once. They had to talk to her about it soon anyway. “Who is the father?”

“Harry,” Charlie offered. “It happened before the ritual took place.”

“But hardly any time passed between the battle and what you all did…” Minerva trailed off.

“A bit of frivolous ‘celebration’ I expect,” Molly said bitterly.

“If anyone had the right to be frivolous or to celebrate, it was Harry!” Charlie said, standing to try and push away some of his anger. “And you would be thrilled if it weren’t for Ginny already being married. You’re just angry you can’t plan a wedding for the two of them.”

“That will make things complicated for Ginevra this year at school. I’m surprised she chose to keep—”

“Don’t you dare suggest my daughter should get rid of a baby!” Molly shouted.

“I did not and would not,” Minerva countered. “But I am surprised that she chose this.”

She looked to Charlie. He shrugged, not wanting to explain when Ginny should get to stand up for herself. “She has her reasons,” he said. “They’re not mine to share.”

Minerva nodded, a pleased smile on her face. “I’m glad she has reasons. I think perhaps I should meet with several of your family to go over how best to handle this. And young Harry.”

“I can tell Bill and Hermione you would like to arrange a meeting. They might know best who should be there,” Charlie suggested while Molly fumed.

“That would be perfect,” Minerva said, then turned back to Molly. “I am sorry this has not gone more cordially, Molly. It was my dearest hope that you would understand how amazing your children are and that your own behavior is what is driving them away. Perhaps after you’ve had some time to think it over, you will give them all the apology you owe them.”

“Perhaps they’ll apologize to me instead,” Molly suggested bitterly.

“I cannot pretend to know everything that has gone on between you all, but I suggest you consider if you truly want to live out the rest of your days without your family out of sheer stubbornness,” Minerva said, shaking her head. “If you’re done with your tea, I have some more I need to discuss with my colleague here.” She indicated Charlie with a look and then traced her eyes from Molly to the Floo in clear dismissal.

Molly pressed her lips together in a firm line and said, “Good day, Professor McGonagall.” She ignored Charlie entirely as she swept away to the Floo and was gone.

Charlie felt like he could breathe again once she was gone. He was almost surprised when Minerva quietly said, “I’m so sorry you had to be here for that, Charlie. I didn’t realize she was so bad. I thought Fleur was exaggerating a bit. Or perhaps that it was worse just around her because we all know how poorly Molly treated that girl before the wedding. The other Professors may approach her, too, but…” She trailed off, seeming at a loss for words.

He shrugged, not knowing what else to do. “It’s just how she is when things don’t go to her plan. And none of this was in her control.”

“I hope she’ll come around and apologize eventually, for all your sakes, but perhaps it would be best for now if she just stays away,” Minerva said heavily.

“I had come to that conclusion when I tried to tell her about working here. I thought she would— well, it doesn’t matter, but I think she was impressed today until she got angry,” he said.

Minerva nodded. “I think she was, too. Deep down, she wants what’s best for you all.”

“Then maybe she really will apologize someday.”

Notes:

Originally, Percy and Kingsley had sex back in chapter 24 instead of here for the first time. OOPS. Only a few words changed, making it so that Percy was spanking him back then instead.

Chapter 35

Notes:

Thank you to LadyWinterlight, bondgirltrb, Astrangefan, and JadeChipmunk for the incredible work they do to help me bring this fic to you in the best form it can be.

Bill hadn’t set foot on the Hogwarts grounds since the battle itself. The scene was disheartening at first, but began to improve as he got closer to the main courtyard. He could see people working together to clear rubble, others working on the wall to The Great Hall, and another group working inside, though he couldn’t see what they were doing.

“You lot — finish up that segment. It’s time to wrap up for the day,” he heard Ron shout. Merlin — did someone put Ron in charge of something?

Ruefully, Bill realized he shouldn’t be so incredulous. He was about to put Ron in charge of something. The thought didn’t make him feel any better about what he was going to do.

“Oi, Ron!” he called out.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione all turned to him. “Did you come to help?” Harry asked.

“It’s a little late,” Ron snorted.

“I thought you were going to be busy all afternoon?” Hermione asked, making him blush.

“I was, for several hours,” he said, raising his eyebrows at her and making her blush. Bill grinned, knowing she was thinking of her own hours filled with him and Fleur. “She’s resting, so I thought I would come take care of some family business.”

Turning to Hermione, Ron said to Hermione, “Harry and I will go take the notes on what got finished today, then we’ll be back for you.”

“Actually, my business is with you, Ronald,” Bill said. All three of them stopped and stared at him.

“Family business? I’ve been too busy to get in trouble,” Ron immediately defended.

Taking a deep breath, Bill put an arm around his youngest brother. “Why don’t we discuss this over here?”

“Anything you want to talk to me about can be said in front of Harry and Hermione,” Ron informed him, shrugging out from under his arm with an expression of stubborn confusion.

Bill wasn’t sure why Ron was making this so difficult, but he probably did need to check in with Hermione that she was okay getting a Coalition seat instead of his extra, so this would take care of both conversations. He nodded and looked to Hermione.

“I probably should have started with you anyway,” he apologized.

“Knew it,” Ron huffed. Bill shot him a look.

“I’m sorry, Hermione, but I don’t think I’m going to offer you either of our House seats on the Wizengamot. I know you can—”

“That’s fine, Bill,” she interrupted. “I’m taking the Black seat for Harry.”

“You are?” he asked in surprise.

“I am,” Hermione said confidently. “I know I should have talked to you about it, but… you have a lot of people to choose from.”

Nodding, Bill couldn’t argue with that point. “It’s fine. You couldn’t have come to that decision very long ago or I’m sure you would have told me about it already.”

“I would have,” she confirmed.

“So it’s Ron I need to talk to,” Bill added.

Hermione seemed to understand what he was saying instantly. Her eyes cut to Ron and she shifted worriedly, biting her lower lip. “Are you sure?”

He didn’t answer. Bill wasn’t sure, but Kingsley thought it was the thing to do. While he wasn’t going to follow the man blindly, he understood the reasoning for this. Taking a deep breath, he told Ron, “I would like to formally offer you the Wizengamot seat for House Prewett.”

Ron and Harry’s jaws dropped. Hermione looked like she wanted desperately to say something but was holding herself back. Long moments passed before Ron spoke.

“Why the bloody hell would you want me to do that?”

“I just do. I think you would be the best for the job,” Bill claimed.

“Bullshit,” Ron called his bluff. “There’s no way you would look at the lot of us and decide I was the brother you should pick for this. Charlie would be best if Percy can’t.”

“Charlie won’t take it,” Bill argued.

“Then one of the twins. George has a level enough head sometimes,” Ron suggested. Then he paused and narrowed his eyes. “Who put you up to this? Is this some kind of prank from the twins?”

“What? No!” Bill said. With a sigh, he explained, “Kingsley wants you on the Wizengamot.”

There was a long pause again. “He what?” Ron finally burst out.

“Since Harry and Hermione will already be there — though he thought Hermione would be one of the Coalition seats — he wanted you as well, so that all three of you would be able to guide the votes.”

Ron huffed. “They can guide the votes just fine without me. I won’t do it.”

Hermione looked surprised. “Ron, this is an excellent opportunity.”

Shaking his head, he said, “No. I’m not the right person for this. I’m too stubborn and get angry too easily.”

Bill stared at him in astonishment. Ron went on, “Besides, didn’t you say before that the Prewett seat traditionally goes to a twin? If you’re taking it from Aunt Muriel, you should have a reason planned that she will understand. Saying you’re keeping with Prewett family tradition will help.”

Now there was even more reason for astonishment. Bill couldn’t believe how much Ron had grown up all of a sudden. “This isn’t the answer I was expecting,” he said, unable to voice how surprised he was.

“I imagine not, but it’s the one I’m giving,” Ron told him. “Now if you’re done, we need to get Hermione to the shop and then I need to go get drinks with the bloody bullfrog.”

Now it was Hermione who huffed. “You shouldn’t call her that!”

Ron rolled his eyes and looked to Harry, “You’re coming with me, right?”

Harry looked uncomfortable, but shrugged. “Sure.”

“Maybe Bill should take me to see the twins,” Hermione suggested. “You can offer the seat to one of them now.”

Bill was startled by the suggestion. “I may need to think about it a little longer.”

“You don’t have much longer, mate,” Harry reminded him. “Did you talk to Lady Longbottom and the others about hosting a training session? Merlin knows I need it, and I’m sure plenty of the others feel that way, too.”

“I did, and she agreed to do it. We just have to wait for the Muggleborn Coalition to vote in their members,” Bill told them.

“None of them had a problem with that?” Hermione asked. “I’m glad, but almost surprised. She paused at the look Bill knew he wore.

Knowing there was no point in denying it, he admitted, “Lord Pritchard hates the idea, but he was outvoted, so to speak. He may not help, but I would rather the Coalition had this opportunity than be taught by someone who feels that they’re not worthy to be there.”

“Thank you, Bill,” Hermione said, going up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“Are we done here?” Ron asked. “I want to get to that bar so I can go home.”

“We’re done,” Bill agreed. “I have someone to talk to as well.”

**********

Fred was pleased when he looked up from the till and saw Hermione coming through the door to the shop. He was less pleased to see their eldest brother following her in.

That trace of jealousy and irritation gave him pause. Fred had to consider if he was going to respond to it or let it go. He was trying to be more aware of the way he interacted with his siblings and not stake more of a claim on Hermione and her time than he should. There was no reason Bill shouldn’t be around her — especially when Fred was already busy himself.

Besides, he wanted to talk to Bill anyway. Nodding to Verity to take his place, Fred began making his way to his eldest brother. He was distracted along the way when their wife cosied up to him with a quick kiss and a long hug. Bill was escaping, heading into the backroom where George was by the look of it.

“Hold on, wifey,” Fred said, “I need to catch Bill.”

“He went to talk to George. Oh dear — I think it’s about taking the Prewett family seat.”

“On the Wizengamot?” Fred asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I really need to catch him!” he said, untangling himself from Hermione and rushing to get to the back room.

As he walked in, he heard George saying, “I’m honored, Bill—”

“I want it!” Fred declared before George could say another word.

Both of his brothers turned to look at him. “You do?” they asked together.

“I do,” Fred insisted.

“How do you even know what we’re talking about?” Bill asked.

“It’s the Wizengamot seat, isn’t it?” Fred asked for confirmation. “I had been planning to talk to you about it.”

“I was about to tell you to ask Charlie,” George said to Bill, sounding unsure.

Fred rolled his eyes. “You know Charlie doesn’t want it. And I do.”

“Why do you want to do this?” Bill asked.

“Because I’m ready for people to take us, me, seriously. There are so many things in our society that need to change. And you need people who can think outside the box. I look at things differently,” Fred explained passionately. Hermione’s hand touched his back and Fred could feel her pride in him through their bond.

Bill was looking at him in a new way, too. “You can’t bring your pranks into the Wizengamot.”

“Would I do that?” Fred asked.

“I need a promise from you,” Bill insisted, “that you won’t.”

“I will bring no prank products into the Wizengamot unless I am asked to,” Fred solemnly swore.

“That isn’t exactly what I asked for,” Bill noted.

“It’s close,” Fred said. He was holding back a grin.

Bill was wavering — a good thing since Fred definitely wasn’t promising he wouldn’t pull a prank. Not that he would at first. He wanted people to take him seriously, after all. But the place seriously needed a shake-up and he wasn’t above being the one who gave it to them… once he knew the lay of the land and how it all worked.

Finally, Bill smiled, “Fine. I expect you on your best behavior, but you’re right, we do need people who can think about things in new ways.”

Fred let out a whoop and launched himself at Bill for a hug and tussle. It ended with Bill putting him in a headlock and ruffling up his hair. Blasted big brother — Fred would never understand how he always got the better of him. At least with Charlie he could blame all the muscles.

George and Hermione were both grinning ear to ear when Fred was able to stand up and see them. At some point Hermione had migrated from the door to George’s arms. She looked quite comfortable there and Fred worked hard not to be annoyed by it. At least it was Georgie, after all. Besides, he would get his fill of her tonight. They both would.

************

Relief swept through him when George felt Fred fight down the jealousy and instead smiled back at him and Hermione holding one another.

“What are we doing together?” Hermione asked.

“Well, the first part, we’ve invited Ginny and — I suppose Bill could come along, too — to see some of the possible houses I’ve found for us!” George enthused.

“Don’t you think that’s something we should all be there for?” Bill asked sharply.

Fred leveled Bill with a look and said, “How do you propose we find time for all ten of us to go house hunting?”

“Once we’ve narrowed it down a bit, we’ll invite others to look, but we may have to go a few at a time for everyone to have time,” George explained.

“That makes sense,” Bill admitted. “And I think I’ll let you work on that without me. I’ve got a wife at home who needs my attention.” He winked at Hermione and she grinned back. George was quite certain he didn’t want to know. Bill paused then. “Maybe you should take Charlie?”

“He’s busy at Hogwarts, working on his new office.”

“He gets a new office?” Fred asked, surprised.

“Well, he’s converting Hagrid’s old hut,” Hermione said. “I’m sure he could use some help if any of us ever have the time.”

George suddenly felt very busy. Unless they could sneak in a prank or two… His eyes met Fred’s and he knew they were thinking the same thing. “We would be thrilled to help him,” he said as sincerely as he could manage.

Hermione eyed them both suspiciously for a moment, then turned to Bill. “Tell Fleur I said to have fun.”

He grinned. “I will. And I’ll make sure she does.”

Looking at Fred, George made a gagging face, then dodged as Bill tried to smack the back of his head. Grinning impishly, George waved goodbye as Bill headed out.

Shaking her head at them, but with a smile on her face, Hermione asked, “So what are we looking at today?”

“Two places,” George replied enthusiastically. “A cottage in Hogsmeade and a castle.”

“I thought I said no castle!” Ginny protested as she walked into the backroom.

Unapologetically, George said, “I overruled you.”

“What gives you the right?” Ginny argued.

“Being the person making all the arrangements,” George answered with a grin.

“Why does Ginny get to see the houses beforehand?” Hermione pouted. Fred was nodding along.

“She was here with me when I was going over them,” George said with a shrug. “Tonight you two can look at the rest. I might have found a couple more of interest, too.”

Hermione smiled, satisfied with that answer. “Let’s see these houses then.”

They were soon headed through the Floo into a chaotic looking office with pictures of houses pinned everywhere. There were stacks of papers with houses as well. No one greeted them, but George wasn’t worried about it. He knew Miriam would appear in a moment. Sure enough, in bustled a squat little witch carrying three sets of keys, an assortment of junk, and a sheaf of parchments.

“Oh! George and family, clearly. Hello!” she exclaimed. George loved how ridiculously excited the woman always was. “I’m Miriam and I’ve got three for you to look at today!”

“I thought we were just going to see the castle and the cottage?” George ventured.

“One more has just opened up that has everything on your list. I think it’s well worth the visit.”

“Do you have the stats sheet?” he asked.

Miriam hesitated. “Perhaps it’s best if we just look at it first. Keep an open mind. Yes, that’s the ticket. Do you want to see it first or last?”

George looked around at the others. His curiosity was killing him. He definitely wanted to see it first. He could feel that Fred and Hermione felt the same. It was Ginny who spoke up.

“Let’s see it first.”

The others all nodded along and Miriam beamed. “Perfect. I’ve got the portkey right here.” She brandished a rusty old fork.

Everyone was soon touching it and whisked away to who knew where.

In front of them was a cliff face with a door at the bottom. Behind them was the ocean, rolling in over boulders.

“What in Merlin’s name?” Hermione started.

“This is the house,” Miriam said. “Open mind, remember? Up above are the main grounds and we can see them in a minute but let’s go inside, first. I’ve heard it’s quite impressive.”

She wasn’t wrong. They all gasped with delight as they stepped into the foyer, magically lit up as though it were a sunshiny day. Somehow it was coming from the sparkling chandelier above them. There was an enormous Floo in the foyer and several large archways to other rooms. The walls appeared to be carved from the inside of the cliff itself.

Soon, they were exploring all the rooms. Once outside the foyer, the ceilings were rather low and it was dimmer than George liked, but everything was still very nice. Everything was cut out of the stone, even some of the chairs and beds with plenty of cushioning on top.

“Why isn’t there more separate furniture?” Fred asked.

Miriam shuffled her feet. “Well, with the sea air and the um… dank conditions that sometimes pervade, wood doesn’t stand up overly long in here. Besides, why not make use of the natural elements?” Her tone was still just as enthusiastic but George found that assertion worrisome.

Still, when he saw the way Fred’s eyes lit up at the state-of-the-art potions lab, and counted the three studies, it was hard to deny this place had what they needed so far.

The library was the first real snag. It was beautiful, with crystals of some sort shining from the ceiling. Miriam told them they were a natural part of the cliff and part of why the lighting in this room seemed so natural. Unfortunately, there was a bit of an odd smell in the room.

Sniffing, Hermione suddenly gasped in horror. “The books are mildewing!” She walked over to a shelf and pulled one off. The shelves were made of stone. George walked over to stand beside her, touching the shelf as well. It was damp.

“Well, yes. Again, the air and well, carved bookshelves are perhaps not ideal.”

He could tell that Hermione was just heartbroken over the library, but she carried on, looking in on the sixteen bedrooms and ample bathrooms. It really did hit everything on their list inside. There was even a ready made nursery for the baby and, something they wouldn’t have thought of, a lovely saltwater pool in a slightly eerie chamber a bit below the level of the rest of the house.

“Now, to get up to the grounds, you will have to apparate,” Miriam said cheerfully. “We’ll have to take turns side-apparating.”

It was a bit of a process, but they were soon all up on top of the cliff. Ginny threw up from the apparition — which she really shouldn’t be doing in her condition — but she insisted she was fine.

The grounds were beautiful. Judging from the landscape, they were on the northern coast of Scotland. But there was also a cultivated garden and two huge greenhouses. There were also barns and, near the edge of the cliff, a Circle more than big enough for all of them to use.

“Three leylines converge here,” Miriam explained. “It’s quite a powerful piece of land. And you can fly wherever you want — there aren’t any muggles about.”

“It seems amazing,” Ginny said, “But how much does this cost?”

“Well, it’s a bit near the top of your range,” Miriam admitted. “But not over it! It would be more of course, but the little flooding problem brings down the cost.”

“Flooding problem?” Hermione queried.

And that was the beginning of the end for consideration of that house. It certainly met their needs, but not when the house was unusable for weeks at a time and the books in the library ruined. Having to apparate onto the grounds wasn’t ideal either.

Miriam’s enthusiasm didn’t flag too much, though. Soon they were portkeying to the next house, the cottage in Hogsmeade.

“Oh, this is adorable!” Hermione declared.

“I thought you would love it the moment I saw the pictures,” Ginny asserted.

“And the location is just what we need!” Hermione gushed.

“But it looks really small,” Fred said doubtfully.

“Come on now — we’re in a wizarding village,” George pointed out. “It’s bigger on the inside.”

“Absolutely right!” Miriam beamed. “Let’s go in and take a look!”

The front door opened into a cozy sitting room. It was actually quite large, but gave the impression of being smaller due to the large, squishy furniture. It was reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room with shades of blue and tan instead of red and gold. The sitting room had a door that went directly into a combined dining room and kitchen.

“The kitchen has all the newest models of self-cooking and cleaning appliances. You wouldn’t need house elves or have to do a thing yourselves,” Miriam told them.

“Why would they put those in and then sell the place?” Fred asked. George got the impression he wasn’t a big fan of this one.

Miriam wilted for a moment. She whispered sadly, “Death Eaters killed the wife and her husband and children just want to start over somewhere new.”

There wasn’t much to say to that, but Fred looked even more determined to dislike it. Wandering down a hallway, there was a staircase up to a second level but beyond that, three doors. Deciding to finish exploring the lower floor first, they tried the first door.

It was the potions lab, well organized and well-appointed. There was room to set up two cauldrons as long as they weren’t too big. Fred tinkered with some of the equipment, a smile finally gracing his face.

The next door was the library. It, too, was small but in a cozy way. There was a lovely window seat that George could see Hermione was drawn to, but there were just not enough shelves in here for all her books.

“Maybe we could use an expansion charm,” he suggested.

Miriam cleared her throat. “I’m afraid not, dears. This house has been expanded as far as it can be for all the bedrooms and things.”

“Oh,” Hermione said with a sad frown.

The last door opened onto a staircase that spiraled downward into darkness. “Oh, the summoning room!” Miriam enthused. She cast a Lumos and led the way down.

There were no sconces on the walls and the stairs were steep, but everyone made it down without incident. When they arrived at the bottom, the room was a bit lighter from a circle of glowing stones.

“What charges them?” Hermione immediately questioned.

“The large node that exists directly below and around us,” Miriam explained. “This is a very strong Circle, despite the lack of more traditional lighting sources.”

“It’s certainly unique,” Hermione observed. There was a low table along one wall and an altar in the center of the Circle. Beyond that, the room was empty. George couldn’t quite shake the eerie feeling the room gave him. He wouldn’t want to be down here alone.

“Let’s go look at the bedrooms,” Ginny suggested. George could tell she felt the same way. With that, everyone hurried back up the winding staircase and on up the regular stairs.

“There are eight bedrooms,” Miriam was happily explaining when Fred interrupted.

“That’s not enough.”

“It could be,” Ginny argued. “You and George don’t need separate rooms. And Harry doesn’t have to live with us.”

“What about the baby?” Fred asked. “I thought one of the rooms was for it?”

“Oh, you’re having a baby!?” Miriam enthused. “This is a lovely home for raising children!”

They all looked at the witch. She definitely wasn’t someone they wanted to know about the baby. It was Hermione who quietly drew her wand and hit the woman with an “Obliviate,” from behind. “No more mentions,” Hermione chastised before casting again. “Confundo.”

“Oh dear,” Miriam said, holding a hand to her temple. “I seem to have lost my train of thought. What are we doing here?”

“You’re showing us this house,” Fred said blandly. He still obviously wasn’t a fan.

“Are you okay?” Ginny asked the woman. “You look like you aren’t feeling well.”

“Perhaps I am a little off,” Miriam admitted. “Are we nearly done here?”

“I think we’ve seen all of the inside,” Hermione told her. “Can we look around outside?”

They were soon out the back door in a lovely little garden. The problem was, it was little. As the parchment had promised, there was no greenhouse, barn, or place to practice Quidditch. Ginny was shaking her head. “This place is darling, Miriam, but I’m afraid it’s not right for us.”

Hermione sighed, but nodded in agreement. Fred vigorously agreed.

“How about the castle?” George asked.

“Yes, the castle,” Miriam said almost dreamily.

“Perhaps this isn’t the right time for it,” Ginny suggested. “Or ever,” she muttered.

“It really is fine if you need to call it a day, Miriam,” Hermione agreed.

George knew Fred had been looking forward to the castle just as much as he had, but he had to admit the odds of them choosing it were not high. No reason to put the poor woman out when they had just cast against her to cover their own mistake.

“Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly. “We can always look at it another time. You know I have plenty more for us to view.”

“This is true, Mr. Weasley. Do you still want to see a few tomorrow?”

Fred was shaking his head, so George declined. “Perhaps the next day, Miriam.”

“Of course,” she agreed. “I’ll see which ones I can get lined up that day.”

***********

“Thanks for coming with me,” Ron told Harry. “Having you there will make tolerating the bullfrog more bearable. Especially if she brings the other Slytherin scum again.”

Harry was glad this would help Ron, but he really wasn’t feeling up to socializing with someone they would have once considered an enemy. Of course, as Hermione pointed out, they had never had any particular problems with Millicent. She had just looked rather scary when they were younger. Harry wasn’t honestly sure if she still looked that way or not. No matter what she looked like, being with her and Ron was better than going back to Grimmauld alone.

As it turned out, Millicent was sitting in a booth at The Leaky Cauldron by herself. She didn’t look scary. If anything, she was hot. She was wearing muggle clothing — most noticeably a tight black tank top that showed off her cleavage in a way Harry was certain he shouldn’t be staring at. Her dark hair was up in a tight ponytail and light blue eyes watched everything going on around her.

“Potter,” she greeted when she saw him. “Ron.” She nodded toward the empty bench across from her.

“You can call me Harry, Millicent,” Harry said generously as he slid onto the bench. There was no point in being rude.

“Then call me Millie,” she told him. Wrinkling her nose, she added, “Millicent sounds like an old lady.”

“I’m going to go get drinks!” Ron practically shouted, backing away from the table. Harry wasn’t sure what was wrong with him.

Millie sighed heavily. “Is he always like this?”

Harry shook his head. “Sometimes he’s worse,” he said, though he wasn’t sure when. Maybe where Malfoy or Pansy were concerned. Harry suspected Ron would have dropped out of the Auror program before partnering with either of them.

“Well, do you hate me, too?” she asked.

Blinking in surprise, Harry looked at her. “You’re very blunt for a Slytherin.”

“You’re very prejudiced for a courageous Gryffindor,” she quipped back. “Or we’re all just ourselves, not Hogwarts-house cookie cutters.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Harry knew she had a point. “No, I don’t hate you,” he answered the original question. “I don’t know enough about you yet.”

She smiled. “I would be happy for us to get to know one another.”

“What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” Ron demanded, walking up with three shots of firewhisky in his hands. He was glaring at the two of them.

Both of them stared at him. “What do you mean? Harry asked in confusion.

At the same moment, Millie rolled her eyes and said, “If we meant it that way, it wouldn’t be your business. But as it so happens, we’re just trying to become acquainted like normal people do.”

“Meant what what way?” Harry asked, baffled.

Millie sighed again. “Ron here was accusing us of getting to know one another.” Her eyebrows were waggling and Harry was still confused.

Then he saw the shade of red Ron was turning and Harry suddenly got it. “Like in a liking each other way?” he asked, shocked. His cheeks were reddening as he considered the way he had noticed her when they first walked in.

“Yes,” Millie said, laughing.

Ron wasn’t laughing. He was glaring at her. “It’s not funny.”

“You’re right,” she said soberly. Then she cracked another grin. “It’s hilarious. Now. Can we stop being ridiculous and get back to actually learning about each other?”

“Fine,” Ron grumbled as he sat down next to Harry.

Even though he was sure he should say something, Harry wasn’t certain what, so he just stared between the two partners. With a sigh, Millie began, “So we know all about each other’s Hogwarts houses. Why don’t we talk about our favorite things? My favorite color is red.”

“It is?” Ron sputtered. “But that’s—”

“Gryffindor’s color? Still my favorite. I actually hate green,” Millie declared.

“I like green,” Harry offered. “Especially to wear. Ginny and Hermione say it matches my eyes.”

Ron snorted. “Well my favorite color is red like it should be.”

“Liar,” Harry called him out. “Everything you own is orange.”

“Well, that’s because the Chudley Cannons—”

“You like the Chudley Cannons?” Millie asked, her face lighting up. “What do you think of the new chaser line-up?”

And suddenly the conversation took off — without any need for Harry. When the firewhisky was gone, he announced he was getting them some butterbeers, but the other two just waved him off. As the only fan of actually functional Quidditch teams, his opinion was unwanted.

Strolling slowly to the bar, Harry heard a commotion outside the door when he passed. He almost kept going, but then he heard someone desperately yell, “Stop, please!” Every instinct he had wanted to answer that call even if it was none of his business.

He glanced back to Ron and Millie’s table, but they weren’t paying attention. With a huff, Harry headed out the door. As soon as he opened the door, he noticed that the wall into Diagon Alley was closed but the small alley-like room before it was occupied. To the side of the door, three large men were bent over something — someone, Harry realized.

“You’ve been told we don’t want your kind on Diagon anymore,” one of the men was shouting as he shoved at the much smaller person, knocking them into one of the others.

There was the sound of fabric ripping as the someone they were pushing around pleaded again, “I was just going to use the Floo. Stop!”

“Guess you don’t learn the easy way,” another of the men said. Harry couldn’t tell what he was doing, but he definitely had his hands on the person… a boy, he thought.

The third laughed and said, “Guess we’re going to have to teach you the hard way.” He pulled his hand back to swing and Harry realized he had to speak up.

“What are you doing?” he cried. It was too late to stop the punch from landing, but it did get their attention even though the boy yelped and was making a terrible retching noise.

“Mr. Potter, sir,” one of the men said, recognizing him, of course. “We’re just taking out the garbage.”

“Really? It looks like you’re beating up someone defenseless.”

The man who hit the boy the first time did it again, this time punching his jaw with a sickening crunch. “This piece of trash doesn’t deserve anyone’s defenses.”

“Well he has mine,” Harry declared. “Get away from him!”

“Look, Potter,” said one of the others, “It’s one of the baby Death Eaters. You can have a piece of him, too. We’ll make sure he lasts long enough for you.”

Ignoring the rest of that disgusting offer, Harry asked, “Baby Death Eater?”

“This here,” the man closest said, shaking the boy hard enough that he was finally in Harry’s line of sight. It wasn’t a child like he had thought at first, but a thin, willowy boy Harry’s own age. He had chestnut curls that flopped over his face. When the man shook him again, it revealed his eyes — the deepest blue Harry had ever seen, like sapphires. They were so distracting that Harry almost didn’t hear the rest of what the man said.

“This here is the son of a Death Eater, probably one himself. That’s all he’ll ever be.”

“I’m not! You can see my arm,” the boy argued desperately.

“He’s not a Death Eater,” Harry said with certainty, though he still glanced to the boy’s exposed arm.

There was something vaguely familiar about him. Harry thought he was one of the Slytherins, but he couldn’t quite place him. He had certainly never seen this much of him either way. His shirt hung open, the buttons popped off and left sleeve ripped to show his forearm. There was an ugly bruise on his stomach and his jaw looked broken.

The three men were protesting, but Harry wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore. “Stop!” he yelled. “I don’t care who his father was. He has done nothing.”

“You don’t know that,” the biggest of the three disagreed, moving toward Harry.

At that moment, Ron burst through the door with his Auror trainee badge in one hand and his wand in the other. “What’s going on out here?” he demanded.

Millie was right behind him in the same stance, but the moment she saw the boy, she let out a distressed cry. “Theo!”

“We’re taking care of the trash,” one of the men said.

Ron looked him over. “I thought I told you last week to leave them alone.”

“You don’t got the authority—”

“Actually, we do. Incarcerous,” Ron said, his wand whipping through the movements so fast the men didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. The three of them were tied together, unable to escape. “I’ll do them individually in a minute,” he mused. “Harry, can you get Diagon open? Millie, I assume you can handle him while I take these bastards in?”

Both of them nodded and Ron was soon gone, along with the three men. Harry was more concerned about this Theo. Millie sounded near hysterics when she cast Episkey and the bruising on his stomach didn’t go away. It did fix his jaw — though there was still some bruising there, too, but the stomach was more concerning. “I’m afraid there’s internal bleeding! How do you feel, Theo?”

The boy was hesitant to speak, his eyes falling on Harry. There was fear in them when he said, “Not the best, but I’ll be fine. They’ve done worse.”

The idea that he might have internal bleeding and this wasn’t the worst bothered Harry immensely, but this wasn’t the time for that. “Let’s get him to St. Mungo’s.”

Millie and Theo both stared at him. Harry stared right back. “What? If it’s internal bleeding shouldn’t we hurry?”

“Harry, they won’t treat him,” Millie said slowly, like she was talking to a child.

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because my father is a Death Eater,” Theo said bitterly.

“St. Mungo’s can’t turn you away,” Harry argued.

“They can. They have and they will again,” Theo sighed, obviously in pain.

“Those bastards,” Harry cursed. Thinking quickly, he made a decision. “It’s fine. I know someone who can help. A retired Healer.” He hoped she would help anyway. Holding his hand out to Theo, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

Within a few minutes, he had side-apparated both Millie and Theo to the Tonks’ residence and they were waiting at the door. He could hear wailing inside. Guilt flooded him that this was the first thought he had for his godson in too long.

When Andromeda opened the door, her eyes took in the three of them very quickly, including Theo’s state. She waved her wand and stared at the diagnostic that came up over his head. Without a real greeting, she said, “Harry, could you help Teddy while I deal with this.”

Something about her tone told Harry she was well aware of the identity of her patient, but thank Merlin still willing to help. She added, “I’ve just put him down for his nap, but he wakes as soon as you set him in the cot. Just pick him up and walk him around a bit. He’ll go back down.”

Leaving her to it, he followed the sound to Teddy. His tiny face was scrunched up as he lay in his cot. Harry wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he gently picked up the little guy, being careful with his head since he remembered that was important.

 

Harry wondered how old Teddy was now, shame that he wasn’t sure flooding him. Unsure what to do, Harry jiggled the baby a bit, pleased when the wailing died down. He put Teddy up on his shoulder like he had seen Andromeda do at the funeral last week. A tiny fist closed around a lock of Harry’s hair and suddenly the baby was silent.

“Are you okay, little guy?” Harry asked, surprised by the sudden silence. There was a gurgle near his ear, so Harry took that as a yes. With a sigh of relief, he began to slowly pace the room. Hermione had told him that babies liked movement.

He contemplated how old Teddy was at this point. It seemed like just yesterday that Remus had come to Shell Cottage to tell them all the baby was born. It also felt like an age had passed. As he realized Teddy was still less than two months old, Harry felt the weight of everything that had happened descending on him. Dizzy, he made it to the rocking chair and shifted Teddy’s position so he didn’t drop him.

Thank Merlin, the baby’s eyes didn’t open. Teddy gave a contented little sigh instead. Harry echoed it, relief coursing through him. This day had been so odd.

Working on his bill with Hermione had been good, but it was still a lot. When had it become reasonable for someone his age to be making the bills that would govern their world? Worse, why hadn’t legislation like his been passed years ago to protect the innocent. He looked down at tiny Teddy and considered how precious this little boy was. He had been failing as a godfather, and he was going to do better.

If his own godfather could have been a part of his life, everything would have been different. Of course, he hadn’t had a loving grandmother to keep him, but even if he had, Sirius would have been a welcome addition to his life. Harry made up his mind in that moment that he was going to be a bigger part of Teddy’s life.

In between publicity appearances, the Wizengamot, renovating Grimmauld Place, ensuring the care and safety of the other magical orphans, his own child in a few months, and helping with Hogwarts, of course. Hogwarts. Merlin, seeing it had been hard. It made him think of everyone they had lost, everyone who had been hurt, all the things he could have done sooner or better to avoid it all.

He was lost in his own head when Andromeda appeared in front of him. “Your… friends have gone,” she told him softly.

“Just met them,” Harry responded, just as quietly. “Millie is an Auror trainee, Ron’s partner. The boy, I only met him when he was getting beaten up.”

“He told me,” Andromeda agreed. “It was a generous thing you did, saving him like that. They might have beaten him to death.”

“I don’t understand—” Harry started.

There was a hard look in Andromeda’s eyes when she said, “I understand them. Someone needs to pay for it all.” She sighed. “But it shouldn’t be children.” Changing the subject, she said, “You’ve done well with him,” nodding down at Teddy in his arms.

“He liked it when I walked,” Harry said.

“He usually does,” she said tiredly.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here,” Harry started.

“You’re young. And you shouldn’t have to be. What those two were thinking when they named a child as his godfather—” she cut off, holding back a sob.

It was obvious what they had been thinking — that they wouldn’t die. Harry knew better than to say it. Especially when the next obvious question was what they had been thinking, abandoning Teddy to go to the Battle. Of course, Harry knew they weren’t both supposed to be there, but it would have been better if neither of them had been.

“I’m going to do better,” Harry declared. “I know I shouldn’t have to, but neither should you.” He was going to be stubborn about this. She was going to let him help.

Andromeda had tears in her eyes when she said, “If you could spend a couple of hours with him each day, it would help. I’ve not had an infant for many years and it is hard.”

“I can do that,” Harry readily agreed. “Maybe sometimes I could take him for a day?” he offered.

“Maybe, as he gets a bit older and you get more used to each other,” she suggested. It was clear she wasn’t just going to hand her grandson over immediately.

Harry couldn’t blame her. She had lost so much, so quickly. And who was he to her? She barely knew him, only of him. And she was right. He was a child.

Taking a deep breath to keep from panicking, Harry stood, walking gently to the cot, swaying a bit as he did, and laid the baby down. Andromeda gave him a surprised look as Teddy snuggled down and slept.

“He usually fusses when you transfer him, no matter how asleep he is,” she observed.

“Beginner’s luck,” Harry asserted.

“Please bring it with you when you come tomorrow,” Andromeda said with a smile.

“I will,” Harry told her. And he would.

**********

Hermione was feeling down when they arrived at the flat. Fred and George could feel her mood, of course, but even Ginny seemed aware of it as they all sat down on the overlarge sofa.

“There are lots of other possibilities,” Ginny assured her. “George has a whole portfolio of houses picked out.”

“Several new ones since Gin and I looked even,” George added. “I am sorry we couldn’t see the castle this time.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I told you no castle.”

“Why not?” Hermione asked out of curiosity. Castles were lovely structures after all.

“It’s too close to muggles,” Ginny explained. “Even if they think it’s just a ruin,” she added in George’s direction. He and Fred both pouted.

“I would be willing to look at it,” Hermione told the twins. It only cost a little time to humor them, and who knew, maybe it would turn out better than Ginny thought.

“It’s a shame that cottage had the creepy summoning room,” Ginny said.

“And the too-small library,” Fred added. “And nothing we needed outside.”

“There also weren’t enough bedrooms,” Hermione mused.

“You know, we have a cottage already,” Ginny said. “Maybe we could just use extension charms on Shell Cottage.”

“I don’t know that it would expand that large,” George said, thinking of the dimensions required.

Hermione agreed, “I don’t think it could. And, honestly, I like the idea of keeping it as a vacation house.”

“Of course you do,” Fred said. “They’ll let you vacation there with them.”

Laughing, Hermione said, “I bet if you promise not to prank them, Bill and Fleur might let you come, too.”

Shooting her a grin, he replied, “Nah, not worth it,” making everyone laugh.

“How big can something expand?” Ginny asked.

“It takes a lot of arithmancy figuring to be sure,” Hermione explained.

George grinned and added, “Or a lot of trial and error.”

She huffed. That was dangerous and George knew it! Sometimes the twins frustrated her so much with their lack of caution — especially when working on their experiments. It shouldn’t surprise her one bit that George had experimented with expansion charms.

He narrowed his eyes at her as though he knew she was thinking about him. Maybe he did. “I wouldn’t be so high and mighty if I were you,” he noted — definitely knowing she was thinking about him, “You experimented with them to make that fabulous little bag you carry everywhere.”

“That’s not the point!” she sputtered. “It was necessary!”

“So are our experiments,” Fred declared, though his voice was gentle.

“Well, for your business,” she began, but Fred and George were both shaking their heads. Surprisingly, it was Ginny who spoke up.

“Experimenting is like a piece of their soul,” she suggested. “They wouldn’t be our Fred and George if they didn’t. They’ve done it since their first signs of magic from the stories Mum and everyone tell.”

“She’s right,” George said. “We need to work on things, tinker and make them right. It’s just a part of who we are.”

Hermione had to admit she could see it. “Well let’s not make our house the next experiment?” she suggested.

The twins looked at each other and she knew that was a lost cause. With a grin, Fred said, “Are you sure? We were thinking we could just buy a piece of land—

“—let you take off a boot—” George said.

“—and make a house of it,” Fred finished.

Ginny laughed and pumped her hand. “Yes! It would be perfect.”

“You know what else would be perfect?” Fred asked. Ginny shook her head. “If you head out and let us have our night with Hermione.”

“Fred!” Hermione admonished.

Putting her chin in the air, Ginny declared, “Just for that I should stay here all night!”

“We’d put you out on the curb, we would,” George assured her, though his smile said he was teasing.

Sticking two fingers up at her brothers, Ginny said, “Fine. I can see when I’m not wanted. I have a new Quidditch Weekly to read back at Grimmauld anyway.”

She caught Hermione off guard when she leaned over her and pressed her whole body into the sofa, kissing her until Hermione could barely breathe. “Think of me?” Ginny asked with a smirk.

“Of course,” Hermione managed, then the girl climbed off her and sauntered off to the Floo.

“And now,” Fred said like an announcer, “We finally have you to ourselves!”

George asked, “Are you hungry?”

“For my cock?” Fred added.

Both Hermione and George rolled their eyes at him, but then she couldn’t help but grin. “Not yet, Fred. I would be delighted to have dinner, George.”

“Not yet tells me I have good chances later,” Fred grinned.

Hermione smiled. “You’re probably right.”

By then, George had left the room and there was already a fabulous smell coming from the kitchen. “What do you have in there?” she called.

“Just some pasta I picked up earlier,” he told her. “I thought you would enjoy it tonight after our arduous house hunting task.”

“I guess it would have been harder if we had a castle to choose from as well,” Hermione laughed.

“I’m sorry I mentioned the baby,” Fred apologized.

“It’s okay,” Hermione said. “Any one of us might slip up. Maybe next time we can play it off as future babies.”

“It would make sense for us to want a place with a nursery,” George agreed. “You don’t just buy a house every couple of years, after all. This is going to be our home for a long time.”

Hermione beamed at him. The idea of a real home, for all of them to be together… It was overwhelming and perfect all at once. The place was going to be chaotic, but she would have the library as a haven of quiet. And there would hopefully be other nooks and crannies to escape in as well. If they could just find the right place.

As the three of them sat down to eat, they began discussing what elements would be most important for their home, in each of their opinions. Of course the list was already made, but having seen a couple of houses made certain things more important.

“I want to make sure it’s good and bright,” Fred said.

“Yes, good lighting is so important,” Hermione agreed.

He began laughing. “No, I meant bright colors, like here in our flat.”

Hermione looked around at the garish combination of orange, purple, and lime green and tried not to sound too condescending when she said, “I think you might need to keep that in your individual rooms.”

Fred and George looked at one another. “And the potions lab,” Fred wheedled.

Crinkling her nose, Hermione shook her head. They both just laughed. “We’ll see,” she answered them, hoping they could be distracted by something else when the time came. They would still have this space and the shop, after all.

“You’re cute when you do that,” George told her, pushing away his plate. His eyes said there was something far more appetizing he had in mind.

Fred quickly pushed his away, too, but Hermione made a show of taking a slow bite, pretending she didn’t understand what they were getting at. The food had been delicious, and she was actually done, too, but the boys were fun to tease when they were watching her this way.

“Perhaps we should do something a little different tonight,” George suggested.

“What are you thinking of, Twin-O-Mine?” Fred asked, raising his eyebrows.

“A few things, really,” George said. Then he shook his sleeve and out fell a silver spoon.

“What’s that?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“Nicked it off of Miriam,” he explained. “It’s the portkey into the castle.”

“George!” she cried in shock.

He just laughed as Fred looked at him with pride. “I’ll take it back to her in the morning,” George promised. “Tell her I found it and thought she might have dropped it. But I thought it would be fun to have a night together in a castle.”

Hermione couldn’t figure out what to say. The idea was more than a little appealing, but it was a crazy thing to do. She felt the twins’ excitement and couldn’t help but answer it with her own. Grinning, George held out his hand to her.

“This way we get to see our castle, too,” Fred pointed out with a grin at his twin. He undoubtedly knew how attached George was to the idea of it.

“And Gin doesn’t bitch about it,” George grumbled. But he was still smiling as Hermione took his hand and rose from the table.

“Do we need to take anything with us?” she asked.

“We’ll transfigure anything we need,” Fred said with a shrug, putting his finger on the portkey. Hermione placed hers on as well and George used the activation incantation that Miriam had used for the other two earlier that day.

She felt the sickening jerk of something behind her navel and then they were inside a stone entryway, leaning on one another so that none of them fell.

“That one was a bit stronger than the other two,” Hermione observed.

“We’re a bit further away,” George admitted. “It doesn’t matter since it’s not really going to be the one we choose, but I wanted to see it.”

“And do a bit more than seeing,” Fred added, giving Hermione a look that heated her all the way down to her toes.

“Let’s explore!” George cried, grabbing her hand and tugging her along. There were several doors off that main entry. It turned out that two of them took you straight into a Great Hall type room. There was, legitimately, a throne at the end of the room, with smaller thrones to the right and left, slightly behind.

“My Queen,” Fred declared. “You must sit on your throne! We, your loyal servants, shall sit behind you and to your sides, as we should.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, but she let them lead her anyway, laughing all the while.

The three of them ended up taking turns sitting on the main throne, laughing about the things they would command if they were King or Queen for the day. When they grew bored of it, Hermione led the way to a side door she had noticed. It turned out it led into a huge kitchen, obviously meant to be manned by a bevy of servants.

From the kitchen, they were able to see the back gardens, complete with a greenhouse. They didn’t go in, but George told her the supposed specifications of it and that there were barns as well.

Back inside, they found the first floor drawing room and two studies, followed by an enormous, empty library. There was no potions lab, but plenty of rooms that could be converted. Hermione had to admit she rather liked the place.

“So what’s wrong with it?” she asked. “There has to be some reason it’s not really in the running.”

“Too far away and no leylines,” George explained. “What they were thinking, building a castle of all things where there weren’t leylines.”

“Muggles?” Fred asked.

With a huff, George nodded. “They think so, though magicals have had it for a number of years now.”

On the second floor, they found bedrooms, all of which were lovely, but the suite obviously meant for the King or Queen of the castle… It was stunning.

There were sofas and fainting couches in strategic seating arrangements. A beautiful fireplace was surrounded by bookshelves. But the central feature of the room was undoubtedly the bed. It was enormous, with curtains all around and more pillows than could possibly be needed. It was staged in such a way that you simply couldn’t look away.

“And now for the next part of my plan for something different,” George whispered in her ear as he pulled her close from behind.

“So we’re breaking and entering and using the place for our carnal desires?” Hermione queried, half joking and half delighting in the idea.

“That we are,” Fred agreed, stepping between her and the bed. His hand grabbed hers once more and pulled her toward it. Hermione didn’t resist and George followed.

Fred sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling Hermione onto his lap. “Put your legs around my waist, wifey,” he told her. Complying instantly, she found herself pressed against him, his hard length apparent between them, as Fred began kissing her, breathing her in.

Behind her, George was gently tugging at her shirt, lifting it off of her as his brother kept her distracted. After the shirt, he slowly rid her of the bra, his hands slipping around to fondle her breasts until Fred’s joined them.

He had to lift her slightly, taking her weight as she unwrapped her legs from his waist to let him slide her trousers and knickers off, but she didn’t complain. In no time, Hermione was sitting astride Fred in a home they had broken into with not a stitch of clothing on and with both her men’s hands all over her body. She wasn’t complaining one bit and she was dripping wet.

“Why are you both still dressed?” she whined as Fred moved his kisses to her neck.

“Because we’re not ready to fuck you into this fabulous bed yet, love,” George answered.

“I say we don’t fuck her into the bed, Georgie,” Fred disagreed between sucking at her neck.

His twin began the same attack from behind on the other side of her neck. “Do tell, dear Fred. What should we do with her instead?” George asked.

“Fuck her between us, of course.”

George froze. “How would you like that, Hermione?”

“Well I’ve been between you before—” she started.

“No. He means he would take you here,” his finger slid into her cunt and swirled around, gathering her wetness, “and I would take you here.” Suddenly, his finger was at the little rosebud of her arse.

“Both of you at once?” she gasped. They had experimented with a lot, but not that, not yet. Hermione had known, eventually, that they might want to try it. But she hadn’t been expecting that tonight. Still, the way George’s finger was gently probing at her had her breath coming in short gasps and she found herself nodding. “Let’s try it.”

“Really?” Fred and George asked at once.

“Really,” she confirmed.

Hermione wasn’t sure which of them cast the spell, but both of them were suddenly naked, their clothes folded neatly on one of the settees. Her pussy almost instantly swallowed Fred’s cock. She couldn’t wait another moment for it.

As she was distracted by that, she felt a foreign feeling inside her arse, what she realized must be a cleaning spell like Fleur had used on Bill. Then George gathered up some more of her juices from her slick folds around his twin’s cock before pressing intently at her, working a finger slowly inside.

The stretch felt both intense and thrilling. It was naughty but somehow nice as well. Hermione was desperate for more of it. “George,” she whined between kisses from Fred. “Please give me more.”

“Not yet, love,” he said. She could hear the strain in his voice. He hadn’t touched her with it yet, but she was certain his cock was rock hard and weeping. Just imagining it made her gush more around Fred’s cock.

He slowly began to work in another finger, using the lubrication spell this time. The process of him working into her was slow, but Hermione loved the feel of it inside her, especially as he was rubbing against Fred’s cock through her thin membrane as well, making his brother moan and buck harder.

“Be still, Fred,” George commanded. His brother paused, buried to the hilt and panting. “I’m going to push in now. I’m using a bit of magic to help, Hermione. Tell me if it hurts at all. It shouldn’t.”

He pulled out his fingers and then slowly pushed his cock inside her. Hermione had never felt so full as the twins both filled her. “Now,” George said, his voice strained, “we’re going to try something else.”

“What’s that?” Fred asked, his voice just as bad.

He answered with a swift burst of magic that burst open the connection between the three of them. Suddenly they could all three feel everything the others were experiencing, just like it had been the first time they touched one another.

The twins moaned against her and Hermione cried out at the feel of herself squeezing around them, her body pulsing. “Oh Merlin,” she moaned. “Move. Both of you.”

“Can’t. Won’t be able—”

“—to stop from coming,” the two voices around her said. She couldn’t tell which of them said what. Hermione was too far gone, sensing too much at once.

She turned her head and captured lips — George’s she thought — and then she was moving, they were moving, all three of them, the boys pulling out and pushing back in and she was screaming and it was all too much and too perfect at once.

The three of them fell over the edge together, Fred and George filling her to the brim as she cried out their names over and over.

They were still wide open to one another as they came down from their high, all emotions, all feelings, bared. Hermione was shaking with the intensity of it all. “I had forgotten how intense this is,” she admitted.

“For us, too,” said Fred. “And we’ve shared a similar connection our whole lives.”

“But with you, it’s just so much,” George said, awed. “It’s overwhelming perfection.”

“Yes, that,” Hermione agreed. Then she started laughing.

“What?” the boys chorused.

“This enormous bed and we barely used the edge of it,” she explained.

The other two began laughing, too. “It was the position,” George finally said. “Won’t work well if the one in back isn’t standing.”

“I’m not questioning your methods,” Hermione giggled. “Just amused that we’ve left the rest of it.”

“We could use it to sleep,” Fred suggested.

Hermione thought about it. Part of her wanted to, just to say they had. But they already had plenty they could say they had done here. She shook her head. “This was fun, but it isn’t home.”

“Neither is the flat. Not really,” George pointed out.

“Well, it’s more our home than this is. Take me home,” she told them. And they did.

Notes:

What do you think of the house hunting so far? Any favorites? Any suggestions of a type of house you want to see them look at? No promises, but I would love to hear your suggestions!

Chapter 36

Notes:

Another chapter is here! And thank goodness, I have another one that was almost ready before... well.

My writing productivity has steeply dropped. I had a family member I grew up with and was very close to pass suddenly and it has scrambled my brain. Most things I was updating regularly for the last few months have fallen to the side. So if you're a reader of any of those, I apologize. I'll get back to them when I can. For now I'm focusing on the story I love the most which, luckily for all of YOU, is this one.

I still have my amazing team helping me with everything - Lady Winterlight, bondgirltrb, Astrangefan, and JadeChipmunk.

And I'll get back in the swing of writing.

EDIT: I forgot to add the thank yous to those who donated their characters for the new muggleborns. So thank you to:
AdelaideFey (JBateman) for the use of Scarlett Bateman - I actually have no idea what spicy chicken nugget means, but I hope she's sassy in the way you were hoping
Rjsmith for the use of Renee Smith - She is perfect for this role
BeesMakeHoney for the use of Rebekah/Bee - Again, a character I very much needed
emilylloo for the use of Emily Shaw - Another much needed character for multiple uses

I love getting to use your characters and hope I am doing them justice!

Hermione stood at the front of a room that was rapidly filling with people. She couldn’t believe these were all muggleborns, but Emery was checking people in at the door.

Obviously there were plenty who would be left out, who they hadn’t reached in time, but this was a good start. More importantly, it was enough to vote on who would take the five Wizengamot seats and for what length of time.

She smiled at a waving Adalyn Craig who was ushering in a woman draped in veils. Hermione wondered if it could be the girl’s boss Vivienne Westwood. Waving back, Hermione also noticed Marvin Taylor and Sandra Williams. Ehlara was there, too, and Mary Cattermole. That was the end of people Hermione knew on sight, but she expected several people she had been corresponding with were here as well.

There was a table where Hermione had set up muffins and pastries she had bought from a muggleborn baker, Daniel Holder. She was grateful he had asked her about bringing such, and that she had the galleons to pay him properly for it. He had offered to just do them for free, but that wasn’t right. The Coalition may not have the money itself yet, but it would.

People were congregated near that table, though a few had made their way to the chairs. Hermione was nervous about speaking to this crowd, but Emery and a young man named Rowan who was acting as her assistant had assured her it was necessary that it be her.

Stepping up to the podium at the front of the room, Hermione cast a Sonorous charm on herself and called, “Attention, everyone! If you could come and sit down now, it would be appreciated.”

The mass of people slowly moved. Muggleborns were no different than others in that sense. Hermione waited until the majority had taken seats before she continued. “I am Hermione Granger. I came up with the idea of this Coalition to give Muggleborns a voice and a presence in the magical world. It is time we be taken seriously and have a real place in wizarding society so that the atrocities of this war do not happen again.”

Calls of agreement and vigorous clapping followed her statement. Waiting for it to die down, Hermione felt proud of the people before her and more certain than ever that this was going to go well. “Minister Shacklebolt has given the Coalition five seats on the Wizengamot.”

There was a general gasp as people expressed their surprise. A woman asked, “Why?” and someone else called out, “How?”

“The why is because it’s the right thing to do — at least as a start. The how is that there have been many seats vacated through hereditary Houses dying out thanks to the wars, plus Death Eaters will not be seated in the Wizengamot, even if they are released from prison,” Hermione explained.

“They could be released?” Sandra gasped.

“Not if our people on the Wizengamot have anything to say about it,” Hermione reassured. “The trials will be a big part of this session.”

“How are we going to decide who gets these five seats?” someone asked.

“Guess you get one of them,” another voice shouted.

“No,” Hermione told them. “I am going to act as proxy for the Ancient and Noble House of Black until it has an heir old enough to take over.”

“The pureblood bigots?” someone laughed. “That’s perfect!”

“All of you here will be deciding who will take the five seats. I suggest we vote like the muggles do, but the floor is open to suggestions.”

No one argued with that option, but someone did ask, “How do we decide who it will be when we don’t know each other? I’ve only met one other person here.”

“And we don’t want to vote in someone who doesn’t want it,” said a woman in the front row.

“This is true,” Hermione mused. “Perhaps those who are interested can each come up, give your name, and a brief explanation of your qualifications?”

Emery stepped up, “I can hand out paper and pens and have the papers magically update with each name. Or quill and parchment for anyone who actually prefers it.”

“Paper and pens!” came a general wave of agreement. Only two people asked for parchment and quills. As writing implements were distributed, Hermione called for those who were interested in a Wizengamot seat to form a line.

“Oh!” Hermione cried, realizing she had skipped a step. “We haven’t decided the terms yet — how long these members will sit in the seats.”

“Traditionally Wizengamot seats have been lifelong,” said a wizened wizard who was standing in line.

“Well that won’t be very long for you,” someone muttered loud enough that Hermione heard. She shot the man a quelling look.

“I don’t think that’s the right thing for us,” ventured Ehlara. Hermione was proud that she felt confident enough to stand up and say this.

“I agree,” Hermione stated. “I would like to offer a suggestion. Perhaps, since there are still many more muggleborns we would like to reach out to, this election should be for a brief period. Maybe one year or even just this session.”

“It will take more than a session to fix the problems we have now,” a confident looking woman in line said. “Perhaps the year would be best.”

Emery cast some sort of spell and said, “All those in favor of a lifelong seat, raise your wands.”

A handful of wands went up, and a number 4 appeared in the air at the front of the room next to the word lifelong.

“Those in favor of a single session term, please raise your wands,” she told them.

This produced a larger number of votes. 27 appeared next to the word session. Then Emery said, “Raise your wands if you prefer a one year term.”

This time most of the wands in the room went up, including Hermione and all the people she knew. All together, 84 had voted for the one year term.

“Majority rules,” Emery declared. “It will be a one year term.”

“Who are you?” someone demanded. “Granger I will follow, but I don’t know you.”

“This is my assistant, Emery Steffen. She was recommended by Professor McGonagall, and has been instrumental to organizing all of this. Please give her the respect she is due.”

Everyone settled down at that. Professor McGonagall was well respected. Instead, they turned their attention to the first person in line.

A woman approached the podium. Hermione guessed she was an attractive woman somewhere in her 30s. “Scarlett Bateman here,” she addressed them with a take-charge attitude. “I’ve been a muggle nurse for the last few years, helping things along a bit where I could,” she added with a wink, “I’ve only been in contact with the magical world through a few old Hogwarts friends. I wouldn’t stand for the rubbish they expected muggleborns to deal with even before the war broke out again. It’s about time a group like this came together and I would love to see and be a part of big changes being made.”

People clapped politely for her as the next candidate approached. She was younger than Scarlett, perhaps Bill’s age, with a dark complexion and a curly tapered haircut. She announced herself as Renee Smith and Hermione perked up, knowing this was one of the people she would be voting for.

“Prior to the war, I was a Diplomatic Ambassador of the wizarding world in both France and Spain. Once the war began, I took a position in the muggle world as an intercultural business consultant. I speak Gobbledygook, French, and Spanish fluently, and am working on my German. I have a lot of experience to bring to this position, not only with our wizarding society and the muggle world here in England, but both communities in France and Spain as well.”

Renee received a larger round of applause and Hermione noticed several people taking notes on her.

After her, the little old wizard made his way to the podium. “History teaches us many things and if we do not heed its lessons, we are doomed to repeat it, or so the muggles say,” he began. “My name is Geoffrey Olden. Laugh if you like,” he said in response to some tittering at his name, “but I’m proud to be from a long line of historians. I’m prouder to be the first of my name who could study magical history alongside muggle history — and I don’t mean goblin wars. That ghostly menace does a great disservice to the profession of historian. At any rate, I am uniquely suited to this task because I know our past and can make suggestions based on it. I want to see the wizarding world come out of the Dark Ages and gain the better parts of muggle society.”

Hermione realized as she listened that they probably should have had everyone speak on their philosophies, too, but so far the speakers themselves had at least touched on their attitudes. To her surprise, several people had been nodding along with Mr. Olden. She had to admit that history was far more important than Hogwarts made it seem. Perhaps he was right that his perspective could be a help.

Next was a witch named Helga Hergensh who had worked in muggle IT for years. She seemed quite knowledgeable about that, but not about the wizarding world or even the wars that had happened here. Hermione mentally took her out of the running.

Three more witches spoke whose names Hermione didn’t even remember. None of the three of them impressed her, though she admitted her views were already biased. They were followed by a man named Joe Smith, who introduced himself as a ‘regular Joe’ originally from America but settled here to work for the Ministry relocating creatures and making sure the places they moved were appropriate habitats. He had left the job in disgust when he realized how corrupt the Ministry was and that they didn’t really care about creatures. Since then, he had been working in construction in the muggle world, as it paid well.

Hermione made a mental note that even if the very charismatic man (especially with the witches) didn’t make it into the Wizengamot, he might be useful for some of their projects. Next came a 20 something witch with bright purple hair that made Hermione think of Tonks.

“I’m Rebekah but you can call me Bee,” she introduced. “I’m a social worker in the muggle world. I work mostly with children, but I think that my experiences would be helpful to the cause of better, more humane laws for our world. I would love to come back to the wizarding world and put my expertise to work here.”

There was polite clapping, but several of the older muggleborns were looking down their noses at her. Hermione planned to vote for her but suspected she wouldn’t get in. Still, she immediately thought of Harry and the bill he was working on for the orphans. There were several positions Hermione could think of that they needed her help with. She made another mental note to seek Bee out before she left.

Finally, a woman stepped up who was very put together and announced herself as Emily Shaw. Hermione paid close attention, both to Emily’s words and the audience. A lawyer was exactly who they needed, though if she wasn’t voted in, Hermione knew they could use her expertise elsewhere as well.

Emily was the last of the speakers, so Emery used another spell to put the names up in the air at the front of the room. “In five minutes, the results will appear,” she told everyone.

Hermione cast her votes and then waited impatiently. This was such an important decision, though she knew no matter who was elected, they would offer new perspectives the Wizengamot was sorely in need of.

When the time was up and the numbers appeared, the five new Wizengamot members gathered at the front for a round of applause — Emily, Bee, Renee, Scarlett, and, to Hermione’s surprise, Joe.

As Emery took over to lead the rest of the meeting, discussing the details of what the Coalition would stand for, Hermione guided the five Wizengamot members into a small room off to the side. “I know you haven’t had time to prepare, but we have some formal robes here for you,” she began nervously.

“Is the Wizengamot in session today? I’m sure it’s not until—” Renee began, shuffling some papers from her briefcase.

“Sorry!” Hermione rushed in. “This isn’t a session, but training. The Lords and Ladies who consider themselves ‘Light’ have offered to include our elected members in their training for all the new House Heads about the Wizengamot.”

“And we need to go right now?” Joe asked. “What if they need our opinion out there?” He smiled at her winningly. Hermione had to admit if she weren’t overrun with men — and women — in her life, she would have been dazzled.

“We have a lot to learn,” Hermione told him.

“You too?” Bee asked in surprise.

“Well, yes, as a proxy I’ll need to know—”

“I think she meant we’re surprised you don’t already know how everything works,” Scarlett explained.

Hermione shook her head. “I know no more about this than any of you. I haven’t even had time to read books on the Wizengamot around my other research.”

Emily spoke up, “We’re not learning any of it faster right here. Let’s go.”

With that, they all headed into the floo.

*********

Bill was pleased to see Hermione coming out of the floo with five more people behind her. The muggleborns had chosen their representatives and that meant that everyone was now here. Of course, he wasn’t about to alert their hostess yet. He hoped to say hello to Hermione and ask how she was before the training began.

Beginning to make his way over, he was stopped by Miranda Shacklebolt and another woman about his age. He thought she might have been a year below him and, perhaps, a Hufflepuff. Maybe Ravenclaw. He couldn’t quite place her.

“This is my friend, Jessica,” Miranda introduced.

Bill took the woman’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you. I didn’t know we were bringing friends.” He tried to sound friendly but confused. He knew the young woman wasn’t from any of the new houses as he had met the representatives from each of them, the ones he didn’t already know, plus young Susan Bones.

“I’m Jessica Thicknesse. My uncle was the last Minister for Magic,” she explained, looking pained.

“I see,” Bill hastened to say, realizing the implications. Pius Thicknesse was in a Ministry holding cell, waiting on trial. He was most likely Imperiused, but it would be hard to prove. “Well, good to have you here,” he told her, though he was surprised Lady Longbottom had invited her when their family was known to be Grey in most things. Then again, so were the Shacklebolts.

Hastening toward the Floo, he quickly realized he had lost Hermione, who was now over with Lady Longbottom and Lord Abbott, presumably introducing the Coalition members. With a sigh, Bill began weaving his way in that direction.

He had just slipped his arm around her waist when Lord Abbott called everyone to attention. “Bill!” Hermione squealed at his unexpected appearance by her side, but dropped her voice when Lady Longbottom gave them a fierce look. “I don’t think they will approve—”

“You’re my wife and I will touch you if I wish,” he murmured into her ear, bending down to reach. Still, he moved away slightly, his hand only lightly holding hers as they joined the rest of the new initiates, as they had been dubbed.

“Hello everyone. I am Lord Abbott,” the man proclaimed. “We are pleased to see so many new faces joining the ranks of our esteemed governing body, the Wizengamot. I’m sure all of you know at least that much about what you’re going to do, but all the things from this point forward may be new.”

Lady Longbottom stepped up and introduced herself. “Some of you may know my grandson, Neville,” she added proudly. “Lord Abbott and I are part of those Noble Houses affiliated with the Light.”

“You’re not seriously telling me you call each other light and dark, are you?” asked one of the muggleborns.

“Madam Bateman, if I recall?” Lady Longbottom questioned.

“Miss Bateman or just Scarlett would be fine,” the woman said, crossing her arms in front of her.

The older Lady looked like she was fighting her own sharp tongue. Instead of calling the younger woman by name, Lady Longbottom said, “We do associate ourselves with the type of magic our family traditionally uses. And we are proud to be the families of the Light, as we hope all of you are as well.”

Bill caught sight of Fred, about to speak, and shook his head. He had a feeling his younger brother had something to say about the nature of magic that would not sit well with their hostess. Fred’s forehead wrinkled, but he kept his mouth shut.

Unfortunately, someone else took up the cause. Miranda spoke out, “Are we certain magic divides itself in this way or is it simply the way it is used? Perhaps there is some better way to look at the divisions—”

“This is how it has always been,” Lord Abbott said with some finality in his tone. “We are the Houses of the Light, there are Houses associated with the Dark — mostly those who aligned themselves with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named — and—”

“His name was Lord Voldemort or, better yet, Tom Riddle, the real man before the noseless beast,” Harry told everyone.

There were gasps from a handful of people, but most of the crowd was accustomed to Harry’s forthright approach to the name. Lord Abbott cleared his throat. “In addition to the Light and the Dark, there are some Houses considered Grey. We are going into this session in a much larger position of potential power than we have ever had before since you have replaced so many of the Houses of the Dark.”

“What if some of us are Dark?” asked a burly-looking man who had come through the Floo with Hermione.

“Joe,” hissed the woman next to him. She had bright purple hair.

Lady Longbottom narrowed her eyes at him. “Listen here, young man, if you align yourself with those terrorists who tried to destroy our world — magical and muggle alike — then you can get out right now.”

“I don’t. I was just asking if one of us did,” he said somewhat sheepishly. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“You should be,” Lady Longbottom admonished him. “Enough foolery, children,” she continued. “This is important. There are three major affiliations, we hope that you are all ready to follow our lead for the Light. At the very least, we are certain everyone in this room would go no Darker than Grey.”

Again, Bill could tell Fred wanted to speak — but several others did as well. He stared down as many of them as he could but it was for naught. To his surprise, it was Andromeda who spoke, her grandson strapped to her front.

“We’re not all children, you know.”

“To me, even you and Caitryn are children,” Lady Longbottom huffed, indicating another older woman Bill had been introduced to earlier. Caitryn Wood was the paternal grandmother of his brothers’ classmate, Oliver. As all the male members in her generation had been killed, she had taken over. Bill wasn’t sure how it hadn’t passed on to Oliver, but the affairs of other Houses were not his business.

“Now,” Lord Abbott stepped in, “you need to understand how the Wizengamot works. We both make the laws and dispense justice when they are broken, particularly on a large scale. Smaller infractions go through the Council of Magical Law.”

“Actually, in the past, a great many of the trials went through the Council. We wish to pass a movement that all Death Eaters be tried by the full Wizengamot this time,” Lady Longbottom said.

“Why would it be better for the law-making body to oversee trials?” asked a woman in a sharp-looking suit.

Lord Abbott answered, “We need to be certain that justice is served, Madam…?”

“Emily Shaw, QC. Would justice not be better served by a judge and jury?”

Looking at her quizzically, Lord Abbott asked, “What is a jury?”

The five muggleborns, Hermione, and Harry all gaped at him. But before anyone could make the man look stupid, Hermione jumped in with a textbook answer, “A jury is a body of people, considered to be representative of a person’s peers, who are sworn to give a verdict in a court case based solely on the evidence presented.”

“We are essentially that,” Lady Longbottom declared, but everyone who knew was shaking their heads.

“You’re influenced by what you already know—” Hermione began.

“Well of course we are when it’s relevant information,” she huffed, moving her vulture-stuffed hat back just slightly so she could peer more closely at all of them.

Hermione sighed. To the muggleborns, she whispered, “This is a fight for another day.”

“And we are the Death Eater’s peers,” Lord Abbott pointed out. “They are almost entirely from the Wizengamot, the inner circle at least.”

He had a point, Bill thought, and apparently Hermione and the others agreed well enough, because they let him continue. “Now, our first order of business will be making sure the trials go properly.”

“No,” said Harry. “The first order of business will be taking care of the war orphans. We’re doing it right this time.”

“Well, certainly,” Lord Abbott agreed, “but the prisoners must—”

“Wait in prison a bit longer before their trials,” Harry said stubbornly. “I’ve been working on a bill for us to pass—”

“It would be highly unusual for any bill you present to pass within your first twenty years or so on the Wizengamot,” Aunt Muriel said, stepping out of the Floo. What she was doing there, Bill had no idea. “Don’t look at me like that, young man,” she snapped at him. “Just because you have the authority to kick me out of my seat doesn’t mean I’m done. I promised Lady Longbottom I would help today.”

Meanwhile, Harry was looking thunderous. “Twenty years? They’ll be getting over that.”

A murmur of assent was rumbling through the room. Hermione leaned over to Harry and whispered something in his ear. He looked around the room, smiled, and nodded at her. “Okay, so you think we’ll do the trials first.”

“The Houses of the Dark may try to bring other motions forward, but we now significantly outnumber them. The only trouble would be if all the Grey joined forces with them,” Lord Abbott explained.

“So we don’t allow that,” Lee Jordan commented, nudging Fred. Bill had to give him credit — Fred didn’t let that turn into a pushing match or respond in any way beyond a wicked grin. Maybe he really was going to take this as seriously as he should.

“We negotiate with as many of them as we can,” Lady Longbottom explained, “to secure their votes.”

“It is important to keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” Aunt Muriel declared. Bill wasn’t surprised to hear that from her. She had drilled it into him the whole time they had been working on his duties.

“At the same time,” Lady Longbottom said, looking down her nose a bit, “You don’t want to have too many friends who know too much about you. Keep your personal issues to a minimum.”

Well, they’d failed that advice already. He could tell from Aunt Muriel’s livid look at her contemporary that she did not appreciate the reminder.

“What is the voting process like?” asked Dean Thomas, blessedly breaking the tension.

“It’s simple,” Lord Abbott responded. “When it’s time to vote, on a bill or a verdict or anything else, you raise your wand for the option you wish to vote for when it is called. The votes are tallied automatically and the one that gets the most votes wins.”

“That seems easy enough,” said a man a few years older than Bill, Garrett Ollivander. From his impatient look, he wanted to be done with this. Bill knew from their brief conversation earlier that he was a very busy man, learning his great-uncle’s wand trade while working a regular job at the Ministry and supporting his entire extended family.

“What isn’t easy — and what you youngsters all sorely lack,” Aunt Muriel broke in, “are the manners and decorum you need to properly take your places in society.”

“I won’t take part in the conspiracy to replace our wizarding society with that of the Russian royals,” Xenophilius Lovegood told everyone very seriously.

Bill just shook his head at the old coot. He wasn’t sure the daughter would have been much better, but he wished Xenophilius had let her try. He would be an absolute wild card as far as voting went.

“We’re only concerned about English wizarding society, Xeno,” Lord Abbott said tiredly. “Now let me walk all of you through the proper greetings and addresses you’ll be expected to know from one peer to another.”

Much as he didn’t need this particular lesson since Aunt Muriel and Mum had been drilling these things into his head, Bill knew he had to set a good example for the others — especially “his” others — Fred, Harry, and Hermione, in order of who he was most worried about. Sighing, Bill prepared himself for a long morning.

**************

“Charlie?” Ginny’s voice wavered dangerously close to breaking as she sniffed back tears. She had been so worried that she came all the way to Hogwarts, to where Charlie was working on converting Hagrid’s old hut.

Her brother’s head popped up from behind the desk he was putting together. “What’s wrong?”

“I think Arnold is sick and I don’t know what to do!” she cried.

Charlie stood, walking toward her and the tiny Pygmy Puff she had cradled in her hands. “Now who is Arnold?” he asked in a calming voice.

“This is,” she held out the purple fluff ball.

Rolling him into Charlie’s outstretched hand, Ginny looked up at her brother expectantly.

“Er… what’s different about his behavior right now?” Charlie asked.

“He just looks so droopy, don’t you think?”

Charlie gently petted Arnold and the Pygmy Puff gave a contented little squeak.

“That’s the most noise he’s made all day!” Ginny proclaimed. “Have you been faking sick on me, Arnold?”

The Pygmy Puff didn’t answer, just turned in a little circle on Charlie’s palm and snuggled against his thumb.

“He wouldn’t make a sound earlier! And he didn’t eat anything either,” she insisted. Ginny hated looking foolish about this in front of Charlie.

“Does he eat a lot generally?” he asked.

“Usually. But I got a new food for him to try—”

“Ah… that’s probably the trick,” Charlie said knowledgeably. “Did you not like the change, little guy?”

Arnold cooed back at him. Ginny felt a surge of irrational anger, but pushed it down. There was no sense being angry at a tiny ball of fluff.

“So I just have to give him the old food and he’ll be fine?” she asked.

“Most likely,” Charlie agreed. “Is that really why you were so upset?”

“Of course!” Ginny huffed, but then wilted under his look. Charlie had always been able to read her too well. “It’s mostly what I was upset about.”

“So what’s the rest?” he asked, using his free hand to pull up two chairs. The one Ginny scrambled into was obviously Hagrid’s, as it engulfed her. She probably should have left the bigger chair for her brother, but she liked that she could curl up in this one. Besides, Charlie didn’t seem to mind.

“Everyone’s always so busy, and I can’t do anything,” she said, trying not to whine. “Either I physically can’t because I’m pregnant, like working here, or I’m not old enough and probably wouldn’t be picked for it anyway, like this business with the Wizengamot.”

“You couldn’t pay me to get mixed up in all that mess,” Charlie said with a laugh. “But I’m sorry you can’t if it’s something you want to do.”

“No, not really,” Ginny admitted. “I just feel left out. All the others are busy because there’s so much to do, but I’m stuck. And I’m so stupidly emotional about it — about everything.”

Charlie smiled at her. “You don’t have to be left out. I could use your help here.”

“Oh yeah? Doing what?” she demanded with her arms crossed.

“Put Arnold down in that basket over there and come hand me things and keep me company while I finish building this desk,” he said.

“That’s not important!” Ginny said, embarrassed that she really was whining now.

“It is to me,” he said, his voice just a tiny bit sad.

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” she immediately told him. “I didn’t mean you aren’t important, just that you don’t really need a person to hand you things.”

“I can get by without, that’s true,” Charlie agreed, “but it’s easier with a second person. Besides, it’s a bit boring and lonely in here. Now I have a creature and her pet with me.”

“Oi!” Ginny cried, reaching over to slap his arm. Still, she was smiling and already feeling better as the two of them began to work.

**************

Harry was exhausted, mostly from tedious boredom, by the time they finally finished at Longbottom Hall. He appreciated what the “Lords and Ladies of the Light” were trying to do, but he had other visions for how the government should work if they were going to make the kinds of changes their world needed. He just hoped Hermione and the others were on the same page.

Still the day wasn’t over by a long shot. Susan Bones caught up with him by the Floo. “Don’t go yet! I’m to escort you and Hermione to the Minister’s office!”

“We know where it is,” Harry pointed out in confusion.

She looked at him like he was an idiot. “Of course, but you’re a celebrity and there’s a crowd gathered in the Atrium by now. As an Auror trainee who was already with you, it is my duty to get you through.”

Harry groaned. He couldn’t help it. Yes, the concessions Kingsley made were worth a few publicity appearances here and there, but he still hated them.

It took a few minutes for Hermione to make her way to them, leaving Harry to make awkward small talk with Susan. He didn’t know her very well, but she had been part of their DA, so he knew she was one of the good ones. Still, it was torture watching Hermione slowly say goodbye to everyone and kiss both Fred and Bill — especially as unwanted jealousy stirred in his belly at the sight.

Finally, she was done, smiling at him and at Susan. Harry felt himself relax just a tiny bit. Not that it lasted. Once Hermione was with them, they were through the Floo and in the midst of a throng of people. Harry’s heart was pounding as everyone seemed to be trying to touch him and calling his name. He was thankful for Susan leading the way and the three other Aurors who appeared at their sides and behind them.

“Isn’t the crowd brilliant?” Ron gushed when they finally made it to Kingsley’s office.

Hermione shuddered visibly. “If you say so,” she told him. Harry couldn’t find his voice to refute Ron’s enthusiasm. He wasn’t sure he would want to anyway. Seeing his best mate so happy was worth keeping his mouth shut, right?

“Today’s appearance, as you know if you’ve read my owls, is about the Wizengamot’s opening session. And, Hermione, for you it will also be announcing the Muggleborn Coalition,” Kingsley said.

“Of course,” she agreed. No doubt she had read the owls. Harry readily admitted he had not.

“We’ll be announcing that the three of you are on the Wizengamot—” Kingsley began, but Ron cut him off.

“I’m not.”

“What? Bill didn’t offer you—”

“Oh, he did,” Ron said cheerfully. “I just turned him down.”

Kingsley stared at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it shouldn’t be me,” Ron said with a shrug. When Kingsley continued to look astounded, he continued, “I’m not mature enough for it, and I’m an Auror besides. I know there are some on the Wizengamot, but I also know if they weren’t the last of their lines, they wouldn’t be. There are plenty of Weasleys to pick from.”

So that’s why Fred was there earlier. Harry had wondered. And now he wondered what Bill was thinking asking Fred to join the Wizengamot. Then again, he had to admit the prankster had been on his best behavior, seeming to take everything seriously and not even demanding answers as some, including Harry himself, had done.

“Fine,” Kingsley sighed. “We’ll be announcing that two of you will be on the Wizengamot, leading our lawmakers to do their best to clean things up.”

It was probably for the best that the Minister hadn’t asked which Weasley took the seat. He might have had a fit. Surely he knew, though, that Percy couldn’t take it and Charlie wouldn’t, leaving the twins as the only ones old enough. Still, if he hadn’t thought of it, Harry certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. A brief look around at Ron and Hermione confirmed they were of the same mind.

Percy had taken over the explanation of what they needed to speak about, though Harry realized he hadn’t heard a word of it. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to talk. Ron loved these things and that suited Harry just fine.

“So you’ll all remember that, right?” Percy ended his speech.

Harry nodded dutifully along with the others, even though Hermione had narrowed her eyes at him. Of course she knew he hadn’t been paying attention.

Ron eagerly led the three of them out of the office behind Kingsley and Percy. Hermione hung back next to Harry as they trudged along.

“Do you have any idea what we’re supposed to be talking about?” she asked him.

“No,” he answered truthfully. There was no point trying to lie to her.

With a sigh, Hermione explained without being too long-winded. She had gotten better about that, thankfully. And Harry was doubly thankful that what Kingsley wanted from the three of them was simple.

The Aurors held back the crowd as the five of them made their way to a small section of floor surrounded by rails. Harry wasn’t sure what they were for until they were all within the rails. The floor shifted slightly and suddenly they were rising into the air above the crowd.

Percy cast a Sonorous on something that looked very similar to a muggle microphone and stepped up to it. “Attention please, Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, is here to speak with you today.”

There was clapping before everyone settled down to listen. “Good people,” Kingsley greeted as he stepped forward to the edge of the dais. “Today I’m here to announce that tomorrow, the Wizengamot session will begin. This will be the first time this body has come together since they placed me in office and the first real session since the war ended. There will be trials and, I hope, sweeping new laws that will help put our society back together.”

The people responded with more clapping, but soon quieted as Kingsley indicated Harry. “We’re going to have a few new faces on the Wizengamot this year, including Lord Potter here.”

“Harry! Harry!” the crowd chanted.

Reluctantly, Harry took Kingsley’s place at the front. “Hello everyone,” he greeted. “I wanted to let you all know how grateful I am that I will have the chance to represent you as one of the Lords on the Wizengamot. I also have an announcement. As I am both Lord Potter and Lord Black, I have appointed a proxy for the House of Black.”

There was a murmur of excitement and anticipation through the crowd.

“Hermione Granger will be seated as the new representative for the House of Black,” he told them, watching as the obvious Purebloods recoiled in shock and the rest of the crowd cheered.

“Muggleborns don’t belong on the Wizengamot!” someone shouted from the back.

“Well, it’s a shame you feel that way,” Kingsley spoke up, allowing Harry to step back, “since we have another announcement along those lines. Hermione…”

She took to the front and looked over those in front of her. Some she smiled at, obviously recognizing them. Harry was almost certain some were muggleborns, presumably from the coalition Hermione was about to announce.

“Muggleborns deserve a place in wizarding society, outside of the shadows. We are taking a step forward into the light by coming together to form a Muggleborn Coalition that will be working toward education for muggleborns in Wizarding Culture, updated Muggle Studies for wizards and witches, and better rights for all. We will also fill five seats on the Wizengamot.”

There was an outcry from below. Questions flew their way as well as scattered cheering and occasional boos. Rita Skeeter screamed out, “Who are these people who will be part of our government?”

Kingsley came forward again. “Like all other members of the Wizengamot, you will receive their biographies for printing, Ms. Skeeter. In fact,” he glanced back at Percy, who nodded, “the information is already at your office.”

“Who gave them the right!?” someone yelled.

Purposefully misunderstanding, Kingsley said, “The Daily Prophet has always run biographies of the—”

“The filthy mudbloods!” a woman screamed, “Who gave them the right!?”

Harry saw two Aurors — Millie and Susan, in fact — move immediately to separate the woman from the rest of the crowd at Kingsley’s nod. In moments, they were dragging her away.

“You can’t do this to me!” the woman yelled. “I’m Rosemary Parkinson, a member of the Wizengamot!” Millie and Susan continued without even a pause, getting her quickly to the other Aurors, where she was silenced and taken away.

“That attitude will no longer be tolerated,” Kingsley proclaimed harshly into the shocked silence. “Using that word to start a public outcry is a disturbance of the peace and therefore a punishable offence.”

There was shocked silence from the crowd.

“As for who allocated five of the seats in the Wizengamot, I did,” Kingsley continued after a moment to let it sink in.

“Where did those seats come from?” Rita demanded.

“Thanks to V-Voldemort and his Death Eaters,” Kingsley responded, causing people to scream at the name, “there were a number of open seats. Of course all the new Noble Houses will have seats, as is their right. And the Muggleborn Coalition will have five as well. It is time our government had the influence of fresh perspectives while still upholding our traditions and values.”

Thankfully, Hermione was at the back of the dais when she snorted at the idea of the wizarding society’s values. Harry agreed, but he wouldn’t have wanted to face the anger of the crowd at her derision. Well, some would agree with her — but not enough.

For now, the wizarding world’s gratitude was focused on the three of them, the so-called Golden Trio. It was annoying and Harry hated it, but it was useful, too. Surprisingly, it was Ron who whispered, “Hold it in, Mione. We’re here to make a good impression and keep people rooting for us. Tomorrow you’ll start making the good changes.”

Stepping forward, Ron grinned at everyone and took over from Kingsley. “I know we’re young, but Harry, Hermione, and I have been through a lot.” He had to pause for the wild cheering and applause. The crowd was certainly fickle today.

“My brother William offered me the Wizengamot seat for the House of Prewett, but I turned it down.” People gasped. “I know that Harry and Hermione will help shape our world as it should be, help us all get back on our feet, but me? I’m just a regular guy. I want to pursue being an Auror to the fullest so that I can chase down those who wish to destroy the world they create. We’re still going to be working together, the trio you know, just in a different way.”

A cheer went up. Harry never ceased his wonder that Ron so excelled at this kind of thing. Harry was rubbish at it — but then, he had no desire to get better either.

Hermione stepped forward and linked arms with Ron, so Harry stepped up on her other side and did the same, showing their united front. She said, “We are as committed to helping society get back on its feet as Minister Shacklebolt. I hope all of you are as well.”

Ron cried out, “Together, we can accomplish great things!”

The cheering was so loud this time that Harry rocked back a little, causing Hermione’s eyes to follow him. He didn’t dare tell her he was fine when it would be projected, just gave a tiny nod and hoped she understood.

“These young people have already begun their changes with a donation to a new project,” Kingsley announced. Harry looked up, startled. He hadn’t realized Kingsley was going to bring anything else to the public’s attention today. "Hogwarts is being repaired as we speak — and anyone is welcome to come volunteer on that — and so, when it opens on September first, there will be some new courses and higher standards thanks to a new Wizengamot committee for education. The Board of Governors will defer to this Committee on new curriculum changes and the hiring of new teachers and training as this has already been paid for. The committee — created and appointed by myself — will be made up of the Lords and Ladies representing Houses Potter, Black, Weasley, and Lupin.”

“Why are changes necessary?” Rita demanded. “Things have been fine for generations!”

There was a murmur of agreement, but Kingsley shook his head. “Are you seriously arguing that a ghost so boring he hasn’t noticed he’s dead, who has taught all those generations alive today, is a good teacher? Or that having a new and typically incompetent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher every year has been good for the population?”

There was silence, as no one could argue with those points. “There will be changes in our world moving forward — but for that exact reason: we’re moving forward. And our Golden Trio will lead the way.” He waved his arm to the three of them and Ron grinned and waved. Hermione followed his lead, though Harry could tell it was fake. Personally, Harry barely held back his groan as he tried to smile.

The things they had negotiated for were worth going through these appearances. He knew that. He believed in the changes they were making. But Harry still hated it. He couldn’t wait to get home.

**********

Percy was running late, as always. This wasn’t a standard family meeting, so he didn’t even have to be there, but he found he wanted to be. He missed Hermione, of course. But he was also wondering if he might be more a part of the family if he were around for more than just the most formal meetings.

When he Flooed into Grimmauld, he was hit with a wall of noise he associated with home. It was a little more subdued than usual, actually, but they were still loud. Percy was shocked by how cheery the room he walked into was. The sitting room wasn’t completely remodeled — yet, he suspected, judging by a pile of materials in the corner — but it had all new furniture.

“Percy!” Fred called excitedly.

“You came!” several other voices chorused. One, he knew immediately from the others — his sweet Hermione. Percy immediately felt a sense of homecoming he hadn’t expected. When he identified which spot she was in, he leaned over the back of the sofa to give her what should have been a very awkward upside down hug and kiss.

Only it was just as breathtaking as always. Not that he allowed her to see the effect she had on him. But she didn’t seem to mind him knowing how much she liked it. The head rush of staying upside down too long was worth her delighted smile and the way her breath caught just from a simple kiss.

He had put off their time together for a reason — to be sure he knew where things stood with Kingsley first. But now that it was sorted, more or less, he couldn’t wait for his time with Hermione.

“Quit hogging our girl,” Ginny complained, snuggling back into Hermione’s side. She had pulled away when he swooped in.

Percy just laughed. Fred was laughing with him. “You’ve got to have style like Percy if you want Hermione to give you that kind of time.”

“I have style!” Ginny protested.

“You do,” Harry agreed wistfully. But then he shook his head and grinned. “But practice makes perfect.”

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him and then put it to use with Hermione. While the two of them were distracted, Fleur put a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Bonjour, Percy. Do you want tea? Or Ogden’s?”

“Was it that bad a day for you all?” he asked, but then shrugged. “Can I get a little Ogden’s in my tea?”

“Eet was a day like that for you, too, eet seems,” Fleur commented as she prepared it for him. She knew his tea order perfectly, of course. He appreciated his sister-in-law very much.

“Publicity is always exhausting,” Percy confirmed. Looking to Bill, he asked, “How was the training?”

“It was a little rocky. I’m not sure this group is going to toe the old line quite the way Lady Longbottom and Lord Abbott were hoping. But that’s not a bad thing from my perspective,” Bill responded.

“Are you toeing the line like a good boy?” Charlie asked, a tone of childish taunting in his voice and a grin on his face.

“As far as they can tell,” Bill agreed, tousling Charlie’s hair. “Are you?”

Within moments, his two older brothers were wrestling on the floor as George magically relocated the coffee table to keep them from injury. Percy sipped his tea, enjoying the burn of the firewhisky, as he watched and egged them on along with everyone else. This was just like home, only with Hermione here, it was even more perfect.

Of course, Mum was missing from the scene. Then again, she would have been getting onto them about fighting by now, even knowing they were just playing. Percy set aside thoughts of their mother, though there was a part of him that still wished she were present. They were all accomplishing so much and he wanted her to see it, acknowledge it, just like he always had.

Shaking his head, Percy looked across the room, his eyes meeting Ron’s. Percy wasn’t sure what gave it away, but he was almost certain he wasn’t the only one missing Mum in this moment.

It looked like Charlie was going to win the wrestling match — as he usually did — but then Fred jumped in as well, fighting for Bill. That brought George in on Charlie’s side, then Ron, Ginny, and Harry joined, all of them on the floor throwing one another around, though Harry was being careful to guard Ginny from any real harm.

Hermione and Fleur couldn’t stop laughing. Percy carefully picked his way over to the sofa and slid into the spot Ginny had previously occupied. He gently put an arm around Hermione and pulled her closer. She looked at him in surprise, not having noticed him coming toward her, then leaned into him. “I haven’t seen you in too long,” she murmured, her lips close to his ear so she could be heard.

“You just saw me earlier today,” he pointed out.

“Not what I mean,” she said, nudging against him.

Mentally, Percy consulted the calendar. “Tonight’s Charlie’s night,” he commented. “So the twins tomorrow, and then you’re mine.” Leaning in close, he whispered, “This time, I plan to make you mine.” He relished the way she shivered against him, her eyes filled with desire. They were kissing again, enough that he was beginning to lose track of where they were when George plopped down on her other side.

“Oi! Share the love,” he demanded, breathing hard from an elbow to his ribs.

Reluctantly, Percy ended their kiss, only a little jealous about passing her to his younger brother. This was the kind of thing Percy had done for a couple of years now. It shouldn’t bother him at all. But things were different with Hermione, and with Kingsley for that matter. They were his in a way no other had been. He didn’t begrudge his siblings their place with her, but a little jealousy was natural.

After George pulled her into his lap and kissed her thoroughly, Fred took a turn with Hermione, and on down the line, including everyone but Harry. Percy noticed he looked angry and sad about it, until Hermione spun around suddenly and hugged him, kissing him on the cheek and whispering something in his ear. Then Harry was smiling and the contentment of the evening returned.

Percy couldn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed, especially with his family. Even after Charlie claimed Hermione and the two of them left for a bedroom upstairs, he felt like he was a part of everything, connected to the others in a way that was foreign to him. He liked it. He liked how this marriage had changed the family. Yes, it was odd, but it was perfect for all of them.

***********

Grimmauld had so many stairs that Charlie wondered if they were going to make it up to their bedroom before his legs gave out. He was getting out of shape without the dragons keeping him busy every day. Yes, he had worked at Hogwarts all day, and then wrestled the whole family, but it wasn’t the kind of activity he had been accustomed to before. He shouldn’t be tired.

Still, he pushed himself, chasing Hermione up the stairs ahead of him. He would enjoy the night’s exercise and then think about a more steady way of keeping in shape tomorrow. They were both laughing breathlessly when they finally got to the floor their designated bedroom was on. This time, Harry had sent them to a floor where he wouldn’t have to overhear anything.

Outside the bedroom, Charlie caught her in his arms and pushed her against the wall, boxing her in as he began kissing her hard. He couldn’t get enough of her sweet lips. Hermione didn’t seem much better. When she slipped her lips away from his, she said, “It’s been so long since we had time just the two of us.”

“Since Romania,” he agreed. There had been nights when he got to be with her and the twins, but they hadn’t been alone in what felt like ages.

“We have to find a better way of spending time together,” she told him, her eyes filled with love as she gazed up at him. Charlie’s heart flipped over.

“I could spend every moment with you and it would never be enough,” he said sincerely.

She blushed prettily. “Maybe you should get me into the bedroom and show me,” she suggested.

Charlie laughed. “Maybe I can’t wait to get you in there and need to show you right here in the hall.”

Laughing, Hermione said, “The point of giving us a room all by ourselves is so that the rest of them don’t have to hear us.”

“So you’ll just have to be quiet,” he told her as his hands began to work her trousers off her hips. Frustrated when they wouldn’t come down easily, he shook his head and muttered, “Evanesco.”

Suddenly Hermione was standing before him nude, gasping as she tried to cover herself, squealing, “Charlie!”

“Quiet, remember?”

She closed her mouth but immediately moaned when Charlie began kissing her down below. He showed her every bit as much enthusiasm as he had when they were snogging. To give her credit, Hermione was trying to stay quiet, but he could tell it was a struggle for her. The tiny moans and gasps she was making were giving Charlie that much more incentive to work at her control.

Sliding a finger inside her was easy, she was so wet. He began to stroke the front of her inside just as he sucked at her clit. Hermione couldn’t withstand the onslaught of good feelings and she couldn’t keep quiet either.

As she cried out, he could hear one of his brothers downstairs yell up, “Get a room!”

“I gave them a bloody room!” Harry cried.

Laughing against her mound, Charlie finally relented, scooping her into his arms and carrying her into their room. Once inside, he warded the door to keep the others out and the sounds in. As far as he was concerned, that was going to be the quietest orgasm of his wife’s night.

“What are you—” Hermione started, but Charlie didn’t give her time to finish her question, pulling her in for another kiss. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Only Hermione was laughing against his lips. “What?” he asked, pulling away slightly.

“I was going to ask what you were doing in this room. It doesn’t even have a bed,” Hermione pointed out.

True enough, he had gone to the wrong room. This one was completely empty except for some boards and a couple of muggle paint cans. He started laughing, too.

“I love how much you want this, want me,” she said, “but we can slow down enough to find our room.”

“Or I could take you right here in an empty room. I want you anywhere and everywhere,” he said.

She shook her head at him. “And I want some comfort while you make me fall apart. Let’s go find our room.”

They snuck out of that room, not wanting the party down below to know how silly he had been, and soon found the right room. Charlie repeated the process of warding the door, but was surprised to feel a breeze as he did and realized that his clothes were gone.

Turning to Hermione, he saw her smirking from the middle of the bed. “If you get to see me, I should get a good view as well,” she said simply.

“Anything you want, draga,” he told her, posing for her for a moment, making her laugh. He could listen to that sound all day.

When she was off guard, he ran at the bed and pounced, knocking her back so that she lay under him, letting their bodies slide against one another. His cock was huge and thick between them, already throbbing with need, and he loved the way her soft skin felt against him, the little mewling sound she made as she bucked her hips up against him even as they were playing.

“What if I want you inside me?” she asked.

“In time,” he agreed. Charlie was past trying to keep her from it. But he was going to make sure she was very ready first. He hadn’t meant to make the evening all about sex, but they could talk and enjoy themselves at the same time.

Gently, he moved down her body, kissing as he went. Then he spread her legs and settled between them. “Tell me about your latest research,” he beseeched.

“What?” she asked with a small laugh.

“I want you to focus on your research and tell me all about it,” Charlie said seriously.

“Why?” Hermione asked, shaking her head.

“So that I can thoroughly distract you,” he told her with a grin.

“If I get off talking about obscure texts and the ritual, you can’t make fun of me,” she declared.

Charlie put on a show of pouting, but then smiled. “I wouldn’t anyway. I’ve always thought the intellectual got to you that way.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you taking the piss?”

“Just start talking and see if I don’t love it. I’ll show you with my tongue. The more interested I am in what you’re saying, the more intensely I will take care of you,” he bargained.

So they began. Charlie loved it. He wasn’t sure how Hermione felt about it — frustrated perhaps, but in the best way. She would get into what she was explaining, he would increase his intensity, causing her to lose track of what she was saying and he would back off again.

Indeed, it wasn’t long before she complained, “This is maddening. I can’t properly explain or get off!”

“Don’t worry, draga. It will overwhelm you eventually. And when it does, it will be so good. Now, you were telling me what goes on the altar and why?”

With a sigh, Hermione started again where she had left off, soon getting passionate in her description of the ritual, making Charlie equally as passionate to her most sensitive bits. He sucked vigorously at her clit as his fingers pumped in and out of her. She was moaning and gasping between words, but seemed determined to keep explaining this time.

He smiled against her skin and began to lick her instead of sucking. The change in rhythm made her gasp and Charlie hummed as he placed his lips against her. Hermione’s voice trembled and her words stumbled, making him back off once more. She gave a frustrated little scream that made Charlie chuckle.

“You’re tormenting me,” she protested.

“Only because you’re so delicious I can’t help myself,” he told her.

“Please let me come,” she begged him.

“Just keep telling me about things. I believe you’ll get it this time,” he assured her. Charlie wasn’t cruel. He would keep going now. She had been on edge more than long enough to satisfy him.

She was just explaining the way the potion would help the ritual when he began to vigorously fuck her with two fingers, dragging them across her front wall while expertly licking her clit in a way Hermione couldn’t ignore. Only, when her words faltered, he kept going this time.

When her hips bucked against him, he used the force to drive his tongue harder against her clit, finally allowing her to come. Hermione screamed so loudly he was afraid he might have hurt her, then passed out entirely as her body continued to react around him, her inner walls pulsing around his fingers.

Charlie removed them and moved up to her head, checking her pulse and her breathing to be sure she was still okay. When he was certain of that, he gently kissed her awake.

“Come on, Princess,” he teased softly. “I thought you wanted me inside you?”

“When I can move again,” she asserted. “I want all of you.”

“You have all of me, everything I am,” he swore to her, making the words much more than she had meant them. Hermione was suddenly staring into his eyes in a way that made him feel open and vulnerable. But safe, too, because it was her.

Maybe it wasn’t what he should be considering at that moment, but all he could think about was how he couldn’t wait for her birthday so she would be as certain she was his soulmate as he was. Charlie didn’t care if they did anything else tonight, any night. Just having her look at him like this was what he wanted.

Then she went from laying passively under his lightly stroking hand to pouncing on top of him and putting his preparation to good use. But the whole time, her eyes kept staring into his, connecting them far more intimately than just their bodies. It was everything Charlie wanted.

Chapter 37

Notes:

Thank you so much to my whole team. You are all rockstars on this very long journey.

I made an edit to the notes of the last chapter because I forgot to thank all those whose muggleborns I used. Know that I appreciate all of you and I still have more to add into the mix.

I'm still really struggling with writing, but trying to get back in my groove. Life has just been busier and harder than anticipated lately. On a positive for all of you, this is still the story that is speaking to my muse, so when I DO write, you're the lucky recipients. My other stories, well, I'll get back to them eventually.

EDIT TO ADD: I was asked to start including the date at least every few chapters so... This chapter takes place on May 25th, so a little over 3 weeks after the battle. Yes, allllll this has happened in 3 weeks. These people are exhausted and I probably ought to let the poor things rest. Am I going to? Of course not.

Percy lifted the heavy headdress traditionally worn by the Chief Warlock and placed it on Kingsley’s head. Before he let go, he could feel the featherlight charms kick in and saw Kingsley’s brow ease. The plum colored monstrosity looked ridiculous, but at least Kingsley was able to move around under it. He was wearing his best black velvet robes with it, looking as dignified as he could. And everyone else would look just as silly.

As the official Wizengamot Scribe, Percy was grateful he did not have to wear such a thing, dressed simply in plain black robes instead, head uncovered. It was supposed to signify he was a lesser entity in the chamber, but all he could feel about it was relief.

Leaning forward, he took advantage of this quiet moment to grant Kingsley a soft kiss. “To help you remember you have an evening to look forward to when this is over,” Percy said as he pulled away.

Kingsley smiled at him. “I’ll need to hold onto that.” He sighed. “I never thought I would be presiding over the Wizengamot. Bunch of useless old bats squabbling and never getting anything done. Plus, with the war disrupting all the usual processes and procedures… Did we even get an agenda out?”

Nodding, Percy still had to admit, “Only just this morning.”

“Don’t we usually send it out a few days in advance?” Kingsley asked sharply. Percy knew it was mostly just nerves speaking, but he was still a little put out at the reprimand, even if it was somewhat earned.

“Honestly, I didn’t want the old goats to see it any sooner than they had to,” he told Kingsley. “Not with everything you’re hoping to change so quickly.”

“We’ll be lucky to change anything,” Kingsley said morosely.

“Just remember, you’ve already started by bringing in the new Noble Houses and the Muggleborn Coalition. You think Hermione is going to stand by and let nothing get done?”

Laughing, Kingsley shook his head. “She’ll certainly try, but I’m not sure even she can overcome the bureaucracy—”

He was cut off by the door flying open. Carmichael Fitz burst in, or tried to. Aurors on either side of him were restraining him even as he shouted, “I won’t put up with this!”

Kingsley’s eyebrows raised. “What is the problem, Lord Fitz?” He nodded to the Aurors and they released him.

“For generations, my House has sat next to the Ancient and Noble House of Lestrange. Now you want me to sit next to a seat that belongs to a werewolf?” he spat.

“Most unfortunately, the werewolf himself cannot take his place on the Wizengamot. Nor can his son, who is but an infant and most certainly not a werewolf—”

“How do you know that? What if the creature turns on the full moon?”

Percy was impressed that Kingsley didn’t roll his eyes when he said, “Because I’ve met the boy. And besides, he’s not here—”

“Yes, it is. Get it out! I won’t sit next to a creature, or the unnatural woman who would have it in her family,” Lord Fitz insisted.

“As we have discussed before,” Kingsley said slowly, “you are welcome to release your seat if you wish.”

Lord Fitz sputtered, “There is a baby werewolf in—”

“I’m not sure why the baby is here, but Andromeda — a daughter of the House of Black, you might recall — will be sitting in the seat formerly belonging to the Lestrange family as it now belongs to the Noble House of Lupin. If she has her grandson with her, he is welcome as long as he doesn’t make a disturbance,” Kingsley decreed with a nod to Percy. He promptly wrote it down in his notes. That was official.

“If you make a disturbance, you will be escorted out,” Kingsley added. “I have no tolerance for bigotry.”

Sputtering once more, Lord Fitz shouted, “How do you think you’re going to get away with this?”

“By being on the right side of history,” Kingsley said.

Lord Fitz huffed, spun on his heel, and stormed out. Looking to Percy, Kingsley grinned. “That’s an auspicious start.”

“No worse than we expected,” Percy agreed.

“Perhaps it’s best he got the initial outburst out of the way now. Maybe it will be toned down some by the time he can’t hold it in anymore. I don’t mind throwing him out, but I don’t want him to upset Teddy. Or Andromeda — she’s terrifying when angry. He’ll be lucky to get out alive if he tries to start something with her,” Kingsley chuckled and Percy found himself laughing along.

“Do you really think she brought an infant?” Percy asked, wondering what the woman was thinking.

“I hadn’t considered it, but there likely isn’t anyone she would trust with him. Harry, maybe, but he’ll be there, too,” Kingsley mused.

Glancing to the clock, Percy replied, “We’ll find out shortly. It’s time to go down.”

Kingsley nodded and said, “Expect chaos today, Percy. The first day of a session always is. Everyone wants to show off and remind everyone else they are in charge.”

“I remember,” Percy said, gently reminding Kingsley that he had been the Scribe for some time now.

The man smiled at him and called out, “Aurors!” The four who had been stationed outside the door of the office rushed in and got into formation around the two of them to walk down. Percy was glad that Kingsley took his security seriously. There were still Death Eaters lurking. Antonin Dolohov, unless he was buried under the rubble somewhere at Hogwarts, was on the loose. Goyle Sr had been spotted but gotten away. And no one knew where Thorfinn Rowle had disappeared, not to mention others who hadn’t been part of the Inner Circle.

The only people who made more of a target than Kingsley were Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The three of them weren’t taking security seriously at all, though they were rarely alone and even more rarely out and about where someone might get to them. Still, Percy made a mental note that he should discuss security with Hermione and Bill. Perhaps they should add some stronger wards to all the places the family gathered.

Percy’s thoughts had drifted as they made their way down to the Chamber of the Wizengamot. It really didn’t make much sense for it to be down in the basement when all the Lords and Ladies had their offices upstairs in the extended section of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but the Ministry of Magic rarely made sense.

Bringing his focus back to their surroundings, Percy took a deep breath before they walked into the chamber, noticing that Kingsley did the same. The room was chaotic with noise, much of it angry, as they entered. It was easy to see that the new Houses were not being welcomed by the ones that aligned themselves with the Dark. Not that this was any surprise.

Clearly, some of the Light-aligned Houses were taking offense. Fred had a vice grip on Lee Jordan and was whispering something to him urgently. Some of the muggleborns looked frightened while others were obviously furious. Tiberius Ogden and Griselda Marchbanks, newly reclaiming their seats after walking out on the Death Eaters’ regime, were nodding along as Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas screamed at Malcolm Flint, Elijah Rosier, and Myrtle Bulstrode. Carmichael Fitz looked like he was dying to jump to his companions’ defense, but stopped when he saw that Kingsley had immediately checked on him.

“Do not make me treat you like children,” Kingsley’s deep voice boomed over all. He hadn’t even used Sonorous.

“Minister Shacklebolt!” Lady Longbottom began, but he cut her off.

“Lady Longbottom — and everyone — please keep in mind that within these chambers, I am both the Minister and Chief Warlock for the time being.”

“Then our first order of business will be voting in a new Chief Warlock!” Lord Bartleby Blotts suggested loudly.

Giving him a withering glare, Lord Pritchard said, “I believe we have more important things to attend to at this time.”

“First,” stated Lady Elaine Zabini, raising an eyebrow as she looked around, “we have to open the session and swear everyone in.”

A magical horn sounded from above and the entire body of the Wizengamot went silent. Percy was thankful that he wouldn’t have to fight for their attention.

In his official role as Scribe, he wasn’t really supposed to speak, but Kingsley hadn’t had time to appoint an Undersecretary yet, so Percy was acting in that capacity as well. “All rise to give your oath.”

He gave the assembled members longer to stand than they should have needed, but some were quite old, after all. “Repeat after me:” he began.

“I, state your name,—

Vow to represent the people of the wizarding world—

To create the laws to govern ourselves and all those we represent—

And to pass judgement on those who have broken the laws that govern our world.

We are the people.

So mote it be.”

The entire chamber echoed each line as he said it, as magic began moving around them. Percy had never felt the power of the words before since, as Scribe, he had never said them before. In hindsight, the Scribe, too, should be bound, but it had never been done that way, and things didn’t change in this Chamber. Until now.

***********

Before everyone was back in their seats, Kingsley in the middle of the semi-circle of tiered House seats, wands were lighting up to indicate they wished to speak. Kingsley ignored them all and picked up the agenda Percy had handed him. Merlin, no wonder he hadn’t wanted to send it out before he had to.

“The first item on our agenda—” he began, but was cut off.

“If you refuse to acknowledge any of us, I hope you will listen now,” said Lord Sebastian Greengrass, remaining seated but somehow commanding a larger than life presence in the chamber.

“This agenda is unbearable. I understand that you think you can rewrite our society, but there are traditions and procedures that must be upheld. Perhaps as a new Minister with new staff,” he looked down his nose at Percy, “you don’t know what those are. On the first day of the session, we discuss what order we will work on other things.”

“As a former Lord of this body, I am actually quite familiar with the normal procedures,” Kingsley returned, “but you will find that this year things will be done a little differently as we recover from the war and—”

“We must start the trials immediately!” shouted someone from the back.

Lady Burke waved her agenda in the air. “What’s this about an educational reform committee? That should be ours to decide!”

“We need to vote on a new Chief Warlock!” Lord Fawley called, his wand tip flaring.

“Or Witch!” Lady Thicknesse grumbled.

“The economy—” someone else began.

Harry stood. He knew what needed to happen first and he wasn’t going to be deterred by shouting matches or niceties. Until the orphans of this war were sorted, he would not speak of anything else.

Voices died down as everyone realized he had stood. Some sneered at him — the Houses who blamed him for the fall of their “Lord.” Lady Longbottom and Lord Abbott stared at him with mild disapproval. Some just watched, waiting to see what would happen.

“The first thing we will do,” Harry said clearly, “Is take care of the war orphans.”

“That’s not the most important—” Lord Blotts began.

Whipping his head to the man, Harry stated. “It is.”

“This is not how things are done,” Lady Longbottom protested.

Glaring her down, Harry said, “They are children, the most affected by this war, and the most helpless. I will not have the same thing happen to anyone that happened to me, that could have easily happened to your own grandson, Lady Longbottom. I have written a bill — Hermione?” She obligingly conjured a copy into every members’ hands. “That will help these children and keep them safe.”

“We haven’t opened the floor for bills,” Lord Fitz sputtered. “You can’t—”

“I just did,” Harry pointed out. He took a deep breath. He hated what he was about to do, but it was for the children. “I didn’t save the wizarding world just to see it slide back into the same problems we had before.”

There were quiet murmurings at that as they all remembered who they were listening to. It was a very smooth, cultured voice that said, “Mr. Potter… pardon me, Lord Potter,” in a way that made it very clear he didn’t consider Harry worthy of the title, “I am afraid we can’t pass this bill.” Lord Greengrass was smiling as he said it.

“Why not?” Harry demanded, feeling fury burning in his gut. He was far too close to this issue.

“It hasn’t been introduced properly, with the requisite number of signatures. You didn’t even sign it yourself,” Lady Sarika Alva observed. “I agree with your ideals, young man,” she added, “but it must be done properly.”

Harry fought the urge to shout at them, or just scream in general. He looked to Hermione for help. She stood, using a hand to push him down into the throne-like seat of his forefathers.

She began, “There may be procedures Harry — and myself as well as many others — don’t know about yet, but I hope we can come together and work through the issues of the wizarding world even if we haven’t followed the exact letter of the—”

“Our time-honored rules cannot be simply cast aside in the name of expediency,” Lord Pritchard declared, glaring at her, then at the five muggleborns of the Coalition.

“Where are these rules written so we may study them?” Impressed by how calm Hermione was as she asked the question, Harry almost laughed aloud when the chamber went silent.

Lady Longbottom spoke up, “They’re not written rules, per se. We have traditionally—”

Unable to stay quiet, Harry leapt back to his feet. “We are not waiting on a vote for this bill because of a tradition!”

“It’s more than just that, unfortunately,” Lord Greengrass said with a smile that showed how thrilled he was. “While your quaint ideas are… sweet, the bill not only lacks signatures supporting it, but also doesn’t give us any idea how it will be paid for. You haven’t explained why the orphans need to be checked on or why their nearest relatives or neighbors wouldn’t just take them in as usual. And what are these ‘social workers’ you mention?”

To Harry’s surprise, a new voice answered. A young woman with purple hair from the Muggleborn Coalition said, “Social workers are people employed to look out for a certain population, to help them with their problems, sometimes in just one area and sometimes overall. Social workers in this situation would organize the information about each child, find the best possible situation for them, and then do welfare checks over the years to be certain they were being cared for. I’m frankly appalled that the wizarding world doesn’t know this.”

“What are you trying to imply?” Lady Alva asked.

“That we’re behind the times,” Andromeda said, hugging the little bundle she had tied around her a little tighter. “Because we are.”

Several others looked like they were ready to fight the muggleborn woman, but Lord Greengrass stepped in. “This still doesn’t clear up how the project will be paid for.”

“The helpless children who have lost their families shouldn’t be something we have to debate spending money on,” Andromeda declared. “I’m ready to vote on this now.”

“Madam Tonks!” Lady Longbottom chastised.

“I’ll pay for it myself if need be!” Harry interrupted. Hermione was tugging insistently at his arm, but he wasn’t going to calm down. He couldn’t.

“Harry,” she hissed. “You can’t pay for everything!”

Turning to her, he said, none too quietly, “With the Potter and Black vaults behind me, it will be a long time before I run the coffers dry.”

“Fine then. You shouldn’t pay for everything when it is the government’s job to take care of these things,” Hermione argued, again trying to be quiet.

“And the government will — more to the point, the vaults of the Death Eaters will when they are seized. That’s why it’s important to hold the trials first,” Lord Abbott admonished gruffly, “before this business of introducing bills.”

There was an implied “as you were told” that Harry heard loud and clear, but he wasn’t about to acknowledge it. Stubbornly, he stepped forward, looking straight at Kingsley. “I wish to call a vote.”

“That’s not the proper—” Lady Longbottom began, sounding exasperated.

“What will it hurt to vote?” Padma Patil pushed her quiet voice loud enough to be heard. “Perhaps it will pass as it is. If it does not, by all means, educate all of us about these rules that weren’t mentioned to any of us so that it can pass next time.”

“Well spoken, Lady Patil,” a man in the back said. Several heads turned in surprise to look at Lord Woodrow Selwyn. “We’re wasting valuable time. Let’s all take a few minutes to read through it and then vote.”

Kingsley stood, “You have fifteen minutes.”

A timer appeared above them in the center of the room at the same time that a silencing spell cut off all protests. Not everyone in the chamber read the bill, Harry noticed, but most of them did. When the time came to its end, there was a soft buzzing sound and then Kingsley stepped up again.

“While it is normally the Undersecretary’s job to lead the voting, I will do it today. Mr. Weasley here will cast the spell to tally the votes.”

“This is not how we—” Lord Pritchard began.

“We will proceed to vote on Lord Potter’s Orphan Bill,” Kingsley spoke over him. “All those in favor, please raise your wand.”

All of the members of Dumbledore’s Army raised their wands immediately, as did Bill, Andromeda, the five members of the Coalition, Lady Marchbanks, Lady Shacklebolt, Lord Garrett Ollivander, Angelina’s father, Angelo, and, to Harry’s surprise, Theo Nott. Harry wasn’t even sure how he was there. With only a few moments hesitation, Dusty Brown — Lavender’s Mum — and Xenophilius raised theirs as well. Slowly, Lord Selwyn raised his wand.

Harry felt his stomach drop when he looked up at the total. 23 votes. Two short of a tie that Kingsley could break. It took all his concentration not to break down. Whether he would rage or cry, Harry wasn’t sure.

He was in a haze as everyone else moved on. Hermione was watching him worriedly, but Harry couldn’t manage to do anything to reassure her. He was barely able to pay attention to what was happening in the chamber, he was so upset.

Vaguely, Harry was aware that more votes were being done, more wands lit and raised, more arguments breaking out. He voted against finding a new Chief Witch or Warlock. Thankfully he was in the majority for that. Then he voted here and there as the older members led the way through what order the trials would go in, starting with those witches and wizards who were accused of providing funding to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. That argument was intense enough that Harry noticed it — whether they could be held accountable for supporting terrorist regimes when that regime was legally sanctioned at the time. By the time Kingsley had used a Ministerial Decree to declare they would be held accountable, the day was somehow over already.

“Harry,” Hermione said sharply, using a tone he suspected meant this wasn’t the first time she had said his name.

“What?” he asked.

“Are you okay? It’s time to go,” she said more gently.

“It didn’t pass,” he told her.

Hermione pressed her lips into a thin line of disapproval, not at him he didn’t think, but he wasn’t entirely sure. “It hasn't passed yet,” she corrected. “This was just the first session. We’re going to find out what their ‘proper’ way of going about this is and keep trying until it passes.”

His voice sounded far away even to himself. “But what if it doesn’t? And what kind of leaders are we if we can’t even agree that the war orphans deserve good homes?”

“We only need two more votes. I’ll help you get them,” Hermione declared.

“And me!” piped a cheerful voice. The woman with the purple hair had arrived beside them at some point. “I’m Bee, a social worker, and I think that a few of the finer details of your bill could be stated more efficiently for the old coots.” She was whispering by the end of her statement. “Grant writing has been part of my muggle job for a while now and this is similar.”

Harry nodded numbly. He appreciated the help. Knowing an actual social worker would be so helpful, but he just couldn’t focus on it right now. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

It was Bee whose voice he heard through the fog. “Lord Potter. Harry. I need you to focus. Tell me five things you can see.”

Only he couldn’t respond. Even if he had been able to make his mouth form words, there was nothing to tell. All Harry could see was blackness.

**********

Hermione tried not to scream as Harry’s eyes rolled up in his head and he slid to the floor. She was grateful for Bee and her quick cushioning charm. Hermione was so distressed that she hadn’t even thought about breaking his fall.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bill asked, at her side so fast she was sure he had apparated.

Andromeda was coming from the tier above as Bee said, “He was having a panic attack. I believe he was just so upset that he stopped breathing.”

“Fortunately now that he’s unconscious, he should be breathing a little better,” Andromeda said, casting a diagnostic spell over his head. She was nodding as she rubbed Teddy’s back in his sling and read the runes above him. “He’ll be okay, but he needs rest, extra nutrition, and probably to take a few days off.”

“If Lord Potter can’t handle a single day in his seat, perhaps he should name a proxy,” Lord Greengrass said, making it sound like a polite suggestion.

“Of course, we know the kind he’ll choose for that,” said Lord Rosier with a sneer.

So many people jumped to her defense that she couldn’t hear them all in the clamor. The two Lords looked a little taken aback by the vehemence of her protectors.

“Everyone stop this childishness,” Lady Longbottom declared, storming up to them. “Get this boy to St. Mungo’s!”

“No,” Bill and Hermione objected at the same time. It was Bill who continued. “He should either go to Madam Pomfrey or stay with Andromeda.”

“I’m not equipped to help him here,” the older woman demurred.

“Madam Pomfrey it is, then,” Hermione stated, worry making her voice shake. She knew losing the vote would be a heavy blow, but she hadn’t imagined it would have this effect. With a wave of her wand she had Harry on a stretcher.

Kingsley appeared by her side. “You’ll need this portkey to avoid the atrium,” he offered as he held out a bent spoon. Hermione sighed in relief.

Bill and Fred reached out to put their hands on it at the same time Hermione held Harry’s hand to it with her own. Then they were all spinning away to Hogwarts, landing in the actual Hospital Wing, to Hermione’s surprise.

Madam Pomfrey raced out of her office. “Who is it? What’s happened?”

“Harry collapsed,” Bill stated, taking charge. “Bee said he had a panic attack and stopped breathing. Andromeda said he’s breathing okay now, but he needs rest and nutrition.”

It was probably moot information since Madam Pomfrey was in the midst of her own diagnostic assessment, but it helped to hear Bill’s calm voice. Hermione was grateful for it. He had been silent all morning. Unbelievably, so had Fred. She would have to ask them why, but not until she was certain Harry was okay.

“It appears Madam Tonks’ assertion was correct. I am disturbed by how malnourished he still is, however. I had expected more progress.” Turning to Hermione with narrowed eyes, she added, “Let’s see yours.”

There was suddenly a diagnostic hovering over her head as well and Madam Pomfrey was tsking. “Nutrition potions for both of you until you’ve regained some health. You’re running on nothing.”

Hermione wanted to argue, but she knew she was overly tired all the time. When she took the time to look in the mirror, there were dark circles under her eyes and she was still barely more than skeletal. She often wondered how her spouses — her spice, she thought, trying not to giggle at their word — could stand to look at her.

“I’ll take them. And I’ll make sure Harry does, too,” she promised.

“When he’s released you will,” Madam Pomfrey agreed. “Right now I’m giving Harry Dreamless Sleep and keeping him in bed until tomorrow at least.”

“Why? Is he truly that bad?” Hermione asked in shock.

“Because these diagnostics show that he hasn’t been sleeping properly, waking every couple of hours. I suspect the poor boy has nightmares. I know I often do, as well as so many others,” the old matron explained.

Fred looked like he was about to say something but just then the door opened, “What’s wrong?” the Headmistress demanded, taking in the scene before her.

“Mr. Potter has not recovered from the ordeal of saving the world after a childhood packed with atrocities,” Madam Pomfrey commented drily.

Hermione again wanted to argue, but couldn’t. That probably was the best way to sum up the problem.

“I would prefer to keep him for the next several days—” Madam Pomfrey began.

“You can’t!” Fred insisted. “We have the Wizengamot this week. Trials start tomorrow.”

Hermione shuddered at the thought all over again. Thank Merlin so many of the worst had died during the battle. She didn’t want to see any of them ever again. But justice must be served, and she would be glad to know most of them weren’t ever leaving Azkaban again. Horrible though it may be, she wouldn’t even mind if some of them were Kissed.

“As I was about to say, Mr. Weasley,” Madam Pomfrey stared him down, “I am aware he has duties that must be attended to. Though if he doesn’t take better care of himself, he’ll have to name a proxy instead. I wish there were something I could do to heal his mind.”

“Oh! Sandy!” Hermione said, remembering that she had meant to talk to the muggleborn about seeing some of them.

“Sandy?” Minerva asked. From the questioning looks all around, she wasn’t the only one who wanted to know.

“She’s one of the muggleborns in the Coalition,” Hermione explained. “She’s a therapist — what wizards might call a Mind Healer.”

“You think she could help?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“It helps muggles. I bet, as a field, wizards or witches could do even more to help. I’ll contact her,” Hermione said excitedly, making a mental note to owl the moment she could. “I could use her help, too,” she admitted.

“I could, too,” Fred said. “And Georgie. We both have nightmares when we’re alone.”

“You hadn’t told me that!” Hermione cried.

“I think they’re normal after everything we’ve all been through,” Bill said, implying that he too struggled.

“They don’t come when you’re around,” Fred said. “But I bet that’s true for all of us — and why you’re not having them at all. You never have a night without at least one of us.”

“That’s—” Hermione paused, thinking it through. She had nightmares while they were on the run. It didn’t really make sense that they had stopped so abruptly. “I think you’re right,” she said slowly. This was something to do with the bonds.

“Of course I’m right,” Fred teased, puffing out his chest.

They were all surprised when it was Minerva who backhanded his chest, making him blow out all the air in a giant huff. “I wouldn’t be so sure about always being right. You might recall I’ve seen your OWL work.”

“And you might recall that Snape thinks I’m the least dunderheaded of the Weasleys,” Fred stated proudly. Everyone laughed and Hermione felt herself relaxing.

“Come on, little love,” Bill coaxed. “There’s nothing to be done here until he wakes up in the morning.”

“We should go to the shop,” Fred said. “I have an idea I need to discuss with George.”

“But—” she started to protest.

“And weren’t you all supposed to go look at a few more houses?” Bill pointed out.

“Yes,” she agreed. And she was looking forward to that. Charlie and the twins were escorting her around this time.

“I may not be able to go this time,” Fred said, his eyes far away.

“What are you thinking about?” Hermione asked curiously.

“A new product,” he admitted.

Minerva and Madam Pomfrey both shuddered. “Just make sure it’s nothing dangerous,” the matron chastised.

Fred grinned, “For once, it’s not. I hope…”

*********

George had been so exhausted when Charlie came in that he actually took his older brother up on the offer to let him nap for a bit. It was, thank Merlin, more restful than the night before had been, though George was fairly certain he was just too tired to dream.

Now, he bounced back into the shop just in time for Fred to grab him and drag him to the backroom, leaving a very happy Charlie to tend to Hermione.

“What’s—” George began.

“Do you remember when you mentioned that we could expand our daydream line?” Fred demanded excitedly.

“Yes,” George said, drawing out the word in confusion.

“What if we found a way to help people with them, to walk them through their nightmares and come out on the other side?”

“I’m not sure I understand,” George said, but he already felt stirrings of excitement. They could do something to help people.

“When we have nightmares, we often feel helpless, right? Well what if in a daydream, we could face the fears that cause the nightmares and come out feeling better?”

“That sounds great, but what if it just sends them into a worse nightmare?” George asked. The twin who hadn’t thought up the initial idea always knew it was their job to come up with the initial set of what ifs.

Fred’s face fell this time. “I don’t know. We will need to be sure it wouldn’t have that effect. Maybe… Hermione said there is someone called a therapist who muggles talk to when they have problems or when things get overwhelming. And she knows one. Maybe we could talk to her.”

“Maybe we need to talk to her,” George suggested. “For ourselves.”

“I thought that, too,” Fred said solemnly.

“So how was the Wizengamot?” George asked. “They didn’t kick you out yet?”

“It was a disaster. Kingsley had to make all kinds of decrees to accomplish anything. Harry tried to get his bill passed and failed. He had a panic attack and passed out at the end,” Fred reported.

“Merlin,” George said with a low whistle. “Did you behave yourself?”

“Absolutely. I’m not going to ruin this, I swear.”

“I believe you, twin-o-mine,” George grinned. “Gotta pull one over on them properly.”

Fred grinned back. It had crossed his mind that toeing the line until he was respected in the Wizengamot could be the greatest prank of all time. Not that he even dared to say it out loud, but he knew George heard it loud and clear.

“So we’ll talk to this therapist person and work with the daydream charms some more and see what we can come up with,” Fred summed up. “Now let’s go get our girl away from big brother. He had her just last night, after all.”

In full agreement, George headed back into the main area of the shop, spying Charlie with his lips locked to Hermione’s, ignoring the world as they snogged. “Oi! Someone could walk off with half the stock and you’d never notice.”

Pulling back from her just a little, Charlie said, “Not my fault you brought the most beautiful woman in the world in here with you. What’s a bloke supposed to do?”

Hermione was giggling and the sound made George happy, too. “He’s supposed to close up the shop so we can take this lovely lady house hunting.”

She giggled again. “I’ll help with that. With all four of us, it will be quick.”

“A fine suggestion, but I bet the two of them can handle it just fine,” George said, pulling her away from Charlie to give her a kiss of his own. As he indulged, Charlie and Fred worked on tidying the shop and counting the till. It had been another good day.

They were just finishing up when Miriam came and knocked on the locked shop door. Fred let her in and they were all soon gathered around to see the sheets on the houses they would look at today.

George had seen them before. Actually, these were all houses he and Ginny had discussed. Except…

“I have one surprise, and it’s above your price range, but it’s such a one-of-a-kind opportunity, I had to bring it along in case you want to look,” Miriam cried, sounding very excited. “One of the two wizarding houses on the Royal Crescent in Bath came up for sale just today.”

“There are wizarding houses on the Royal Crescent!?” Hermione squealed.

“What’s that then?” Fred asked, taking the offered sheet of parchment.

Looking over Fred’s shoulder, George gasped at the listing price of the property. “Hermione—” he began gently.

“Bath is a long way from Hogwarts,” Charlie commented instead.

Hermione’s face fell. “Too far,” she agreed. With a sigh, she added, “I suppose there are more sensible things to see. But can I look at the pictures anyway?”

“Of course, dear,” Miriam said, handing over a second parchment. “I’ll be showing the property around if you change your mind.”

George was still watching as Fred flipped through the photos. To be honest, he thought the whole thing was overdone and overpriced for what it was, but apparently this was a rather famous place to the muggles. And some magicals, it seemed, as he watched Charlie and Hermione ooh and aah over the photos with Miriam. He held back a snicker. He had never known his big brother was so into muggle architecture. Amazing what loving their girl could bring out in a Weasley bloke.

None too soon, they were on their way to the first property of the day. The fixer-upper. The portkey for this one took them inside a room that was large but somehow cozy at the same time. It was empty. Whatever furniture had once graced the place had been removed.

They were in something that was probably meant to be a sitting room. It had a lovely fireplace and built-in bookshelves lining one whole wall. There was a window seat at the far end that made Hermione’s eyes light up. Charlie had walked straight to it though and commented, “There’s a leak at this window.”

“There are, unfortunately, quite a few leaks and some damage because of them,” Miriam admitted, “but nothing a bit of magic couldn’t spruce up.” Her tone was just as cheery as ever. “The vaulted ceilings and exposed beams are consistent with the Tudor style of the outside of the house,” she told them, drawing attention to those and other features throughout.

Her commentary ignored obvious problems in the next room. The sitting room connected to a dining room where part of the ceiling was falling in. “Just a bit of a plastering problem, dears,” she replied when Fred mentioned it.

The kitchen was in fair shape, but the equipment was ancient even for a wizarding household. There was a giant oven probably installed when the first part of the house was built — several centuries ago, Miriam explained — with burners on top. There was also a huge hearth with a cauldron still sitting above where the fire would be. The pantry was big enough to be its own room, with a second room just for the cold things. Even with the magic on the house out of use, it was still cold in that part.

Moving on, they found six more rooms on that first floor, none with any discernible use, but all with the exposed beamwork and, thankfully, no more falling in. They might be bedrooms, though they seemed more public rooms as most did not have closing doors, though Miriam pointed out that could be changed. Finally, they came to the back of the house, to the expansive library. Hermione was immediately drawn in, despite the lack of actual books. This room looked immaculate, not even any dust.

“Oh yes, the room is spelled to repel dust, as any good library should be,” Miriam explained. “The previous owners took their books very seriously.”

Hermione simply nodded in wonder as she moved through the shelves. “What’s this back here?” she called out.

“The tower?” Miriam called back. “You can go in. They’ve assured me it’s quite stable. You might not like the top floor, though. It was used as an owlery and smells like it.”

Wondering what she had found, George joined Charlie and Fred in following after her. There was a door at the back of the library into a rounded stone wall. The door led into a room that was mostly dark except for a single small window up high.

“This would be perfect for drying herbs,” Hermione commented.

“I don’t think you were the only one with that idea,” Charlie told her, opening a door on the other side. They were looking into a conservatory overrun with plants.

Coming through another door, Miriam smiled at them. “I see you found the conservatory. It’s year-round, of course, and perfect for growing your most-used potions ingredients. The previous owner used the bottom floor of the tower for drying and preparing them, I’m told.”

“That would take a lot of clean-up to get under control,” Fred noted. “But there are some great ingredients already ready.” George noticed him nicking a handful of fluxweed, which was hard to come by these days.

Hermione had noticed, too, but she just shook her head and rolled her eyes as she headed back into the tower and up the old stairs to the second floor. When George followed her into the room, he could see no instant purpose for the room, but it was brighter than below. There was still just a single window toward the front, but the entire back half of the tower was windows, looking out onto the back garden. He could tell she was charmed by the space.

The third floor was as smelly as they had been promised, but Charlie was the one excited here. “They’ve had some very large birds nesting here,” he noted. “In fact, I imagine some still live here. This window doesn’t latch properly.”

Making their way down from the tower, it was time to explore the second level of the house. It wasn’t very exciting, though, just more empty rooms, clearly meant to be bedrooms this time. “It is listed as a 13 bedroom house. Those are all on this floor, though some rooms downstairs could certainly be used as well. There’s also a large room that could be a sitting room or a nursery up here,” Miriam told them as they wandered from room to room, finally finding the mentioned room near the middle.

There wasn’t much up there to comment on. They were well-sized rooms, but nothing else exciting about them, though one or two showed signs of leaks. Charlie was quick to notice and point them out. He was clearly most excited to get outside, though. From the windows of the tower and second floor, he had seen the barns, if you could call them that.

They were soon exploring a small barn near the house while Charlie talked to Miriam about apparating around to the other structures. George was fairly certain they were just lean-tos that were leaning entirely too much, but he wouldn’t spoil Charlie’s fun. While Miriam was spiriting him around, George and Fred had time with just Hermione, walking about the overgrown gardens and exploring the out-of-control greenhouse to the side of the house.

“This is a lovely place,” she said wistfully. “And being so near Hogwarts would be ideal. But it needs a lot of work.”

“It does,” George agreed. “But there are plenty of houses out there that don’t.”

“What’s the next one?” she asked curiously.

“Don’t you want to let Miriam tell you all about it?” Fred teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Their realtor’s cheery attitude was clearly getting to her. “I would always rather hear from you,” she said, batting her eyelashes at them playfully.

“Well you know how to get anything you want from me,” George admitted, thrilled that she was flirting with them. “The next is a bit, well, unique… it’s a treehouse of sorts.”

“A treehouse!?” she asked, excitement and curiosity rolling off of her. “One big enough for all of us?”

“Well, not at the moment,” George admitted. “But it grows new rooms. It could be big enough.”

“That sounds amazing!” Hermione enthused. “I can’t wait to see it!”

********

“Perhaps we should have waited on this one,” Fred mused, shaking his head. “At least until they have the infestation under control,” he added, feeling his twin’s sadness as they stared at the tall, haphazard home — a literal tree with rooms growing inside it.

Charlie angrily replied, “It’s not an infestation. This is someone trying to sell the fairies’ home!”

“Well, it was owned by a witch, but she was said to have an unhealthy connection with the fae. She disappeared quite young, really. And then the house was found like this. It was really an ingenious design,” Miriam said, shrinking back a bit at Charlie’s anger.

“It is that,” Fred agreed. His mind was churning with ways to make something like this marketable. Perhaps they could grow little bonsai tree homes for pygmy puffs? Or sell a device that could turn any tree into a little room — for camping or if you were lost in the woods? Perhaps to hide when running after a prank?

There were fairies gathering around Charlie where he sat on a stump looking at the home. They seemed to like him quite a lot and unless Fred was mistaken, it seemed Charlie could understand them. Indeed, he stood up and said, “This is their home. The witch gave it to them and you need to stop trying to sell it.” His words were clearly aimed at Miriam.

“Well, I— it’s not really my decision,” she said.

“Then tell whoever’s decision it is that this is unacceptable,” Charlie said in his most demanding tone. Fred rarely saw him adamant about anything.

“Yes, sir,” the realtor responded. Then, timidly she asked, “Did you want to see the third house, perhaps? I think you’ll like it better.”

“We would have to like it better,” George muttered, “since we would be able to at least go inside.”

Charlie glared at him and George glared right back. It was Hermione who stepped between them, taking each of their hands. “This is a lovely home,” she told George, “very whimsical, but it’s not right for us even if we could look around. Miriam told me it takes years to grow new rooms, so it wouldn’t work for us. And Charlie, I didn’t know you spoke Fairy.”

“There’s a colony of them at the Sanctuary. It seemed prudent to learn,” he said, ducking his head in embarrassment.

“I bet not everyone there bothered,” Hermione pointed out, which only made Charlie blush harder.

“Well no,” he admitted. “But they should have.”

“This last house I think may be just the thing,” Miriam enthused. “It’s in the wizarding district of Inverness, practically its own community, and not too far from Hogwarts.”

Ah, the Victorian. George wished Ginny were with them to see this one. But they could always come back once Hermione approved. If there wasn’t something drastically wrong with it, he could see this being the one.

The portkey took them to the sidewalk leading up to the house. The realtors must have decided it was the winning view. George had to admit it was impressive. The entire neighborhood was Victorian and this house was the largest of the lot. He saw Hermione smiling at it and got the feeling that this might be the one.

That changed when they stepped into the foyer. “I don’t like the feel of this place,” Hermione stated, then shook her head. “It’s no worse than Grimmauld, though. Let’s look around.”

The place was stately, that was certainly true. Off the foyer was a drawing room on one side and the formal dining room on the other. The dining room was connected to a brand new kitchen, set out with brand new muggle appliances.

“Adapted, of course,” Miriam assured them. “There is a room, too, for mee-dee-a, whatever that is.”

“Oh, I didn’t know I wanted that until now,” Hermione said wistfully. George noticed she still kept looking over her shoulder. Something about the house was making her nervous.

After a peek in the media room, which only made sense to Hermione, they took a look at the potions lab. It was perfect. Enough stations that several of them could actively work plus places out of the way for long brews. George exchanged glances with his twin and he knew if it were up to Fred, this place had just sold itself.

There were two studies on the first floor. One off the drawing room and one attached to the master suite, which was like a small apartment of its own.

Moving back to the foyer, they started up the grand staircase to look at the second floor when Hermione wobbled precariously and fell backwards. Charlie, thank Merlin, was right behind her and caught her, barely rocking back at all himself.

“Hermione!” they all cried as Charlie scooped her up and maneuvered back down the stairs to a sofa in the drawing room.

Miriam was fluttering around making noises of distress and offering suggestions about food or needing some water or it being too hot.

“No, there’s something about the house that was bothering her,” George argued.

Shrinking back a bit, Miriam said, “Well, it was owned by a pureblood previously. He quite liked muggle amenities, but he was known to dislike muggleborns. It’s possible—”

“That something in this house is bad for Hermione?” Fred accused.

“It could be,” she admitted. “I’m sure a good cursebreaker could sort it out, though. And you’ve got one in the family, yes?”

They couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. Yes, it was lovely, but they weren’t going to live in a place that could potentially harm Hermione. Bill could comb through it, but what if he missed something?

Furious, George rounded on Miriam. “Why would you show us a house owned by a dark wizard?”

Straightening to her full height, Miriam said, “He wasn’t dark, or not known to be. He didn’t like muggleborns but he and his family have moved to the continent to escape the political climate here.”

“Ah, to avoid the acceptance of muggleborns now that our side won, you mean,” George suggested.

“Apparently,” Miriam agreed sadly. “I’m so sorry this happened. There are other houses we could look at—”

“We’re quite done for the day,” Fred snapped. “And maybe done with you entirely, though that will have to be discussed.”

George was impressed that his twin hadn’t fired her on the spot, instead deferring to the family as a whole. He was ready to fire her himself, but he was too worried about Hermione to mess with it at the moment. Besides, he liked Miriam and she had worked hard to find possibilities for them. He hadn’t thought to exclude the homes of past anti-muggleborns either.

“We have to get Hermione checked,” Charlie said as he carried her out. She was awake, but looked confused.

As soon as they were back in the sunshine, though, she started to revive. “What happened?” she asked, eyes sharp as she looked around at them. “Charlie, put me down.”

“No,” he answered simply.

“You passed out. We’re going to take you to Madam Pomfrey,” Fred asserted. “That way you can be looked over and see Harry at the same time.”

“We were planning to check in on him one more time before going home anyway,” George explained.

“But I wanted to see the rest of the house,” Hermione protested.

“Not that one. It’s pretty, but not worth losing you,” Charlie declared. “Besides, I liked the first one we saw.”

“The one with the falling ceiling?” Fred asked, rolling his eyes. “You’re just excited about the barn.”

“Yes,” Charlie agreed with a grin. “And the proximity to Hogwarts.”

George couldn’t argue with that. It and the cottage in Hogsmeade were the best locations. It still felt like there should be other options that might work, but he knew their list of wants and needs was long. Perhaps converting a muggle house wouldn’t be bad for them after all? Near a village like The Burrow was.

He would worry about it later, right now they needed to focus on Hermione.

********

Fred could still vividly see the image of Hermione tumbling backward on the stairs that would have happened if Charlie hadn’t been there to catch her. He couldn’t remember ever being so scared. Now they still needed to see what effects might be working on their girl, and that might actually scare him more. Bill had always pushed them to understand how serious curses could be. Whatever this was, it could have done anything to her.

The four of them apparated just outside the main gates of Hogwarts with Charlie still carrying Hermione. As they headed up to the main entrance, they passed a few of the late workers for the day, toiling away at the south wall of the Great Hall, per Ron’s plan. Fred tried to smile back at them when they waved, but he knew it may have been more of a grimace.

“What now?” Professor McGonagall demanded as she rushed to meet them at the front entrance.

“We were looking at houses and Hermione was getting a weird feeling in one. Turns out it was owned by someone with anti-muggleborn feelings and we think she may be cursed. She passed out on the staircase,” Fred blurted in a rush.

“You all need a keeper every moment,” the older woman said with a shake of her head.

“Are you offering?” George quipped.

She shook her head, “I’m not sure I could keep up.”

“Course you could, Minnie,” Fred assured her, grinning genuinely when she shot him a look over her glasses. He already felt calmed by her presence. If McGonagall wasn’t panicking, then he didn’t need to either.

“I’ve told them I’m fine,” Hermione asserted, “but he won’t let me down.”

“You shouldn’t be let down,” the Professor said firmly. “Not until Madam Pomfrey has had a chance to look you over.”

When they arrived at the Hospital Wing, it was a repeat of the conversation with McGonagall, only this time Hermione was pouting from the bed next to Harry’s instead of his brother’s arms.

Madam Pomfrey was shaking her head as she read one of those diagnostic things above Hermione’s head. Charlie appeared to be reading it from behind her. “Why is her magical core so low?” he asked the matron. Perhaps he could read some of it.

“It appears the curse drains magic as well as poisons the blood. It’s a contact curse, so she probably touched something it had been placed on. There’s a simple antidote and I have some on hand, thankfully, but it will take six doses so she will have to stay overnight.”

Fred felt a surge of anger. Why should this happen on their night? There was anger coming through him from George, too, but he could tell it was a different flavor of anger — anger at the person who had done this to their girl. That made more sense and Fred tried to redirect his jealousy into that.

“Can we stay with her?” he asked after Hermione dutifully took her first dose of the potion.

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, but then rolled her eyes at a look from McGonagall and said, “If you can behave yourselves, I suppose so.”

She stormed off to her office muttering something about this being her vacation. Fred hadn’t known she ever took vacations. But he supposed they all needed one after everything that had happened.

Professor McGonagall soon excused herself and Hermione gestured for Fred and George to sit on either side of her. They rushed to oblige, making the little bed creak.

George spoke first. “I’m so sorry I thought that house was a good idea.”

“Don’t say that,” Hermione argued. “It was lovely and I suppose we should have thought of that possibility. It could happen anywhere.”

Fred shuddered at the thought. He was going to add her falling down the stairs to his nightmares he was certain. “Maybe we should pick from the houses we’ve seen already.”

“We’re not going to settle on something we don’t like just because of this,” she insisted. Her face softening, she said, “But… I did really like the old countryside place.”

“Don’t say that just because I like it,” Charlie said.

“I’m not!” she protested. Then smiled a little shyly, “The library was gorgeous and I really love that tower. And the window seats!”

“Books and towers and window seats — the way to our lady’s heart,” Fred said with a grin.

“Are you sure you don’t want the mildewy library cave house?” George teased.

“The one that floods?” Hermione asked with a snort at the same time Charlie asked, “Cave house?”

They all laughed and then Fred launched into an explanation — with assists from George and Hermione — of the other houses they had toured. Just sitting around chatting turned out to be the perfect way to unwind after the stress of the day.

Fred hadn’t even realized how tightly wound he was until the tension began to release. He was dedicated to being a member of the Wizengamot, but it was going to be far more complex than he had imagined — especially to make the changes he knew Harry and Hermione were set on, and that their world so badly needed.

As they became more sleepy, George enlarged the bed, making space for the three of them to lie down. As usual, his twin had made space for Charlie, too, as though it were a foregone conclusion that he would stay. Then again, Fred supposed it was.

“I can sleep in the next bed if you want,” Charlie offered softly after Hermione had drifted off.

“No, you belong here with us,” Fred said, fighting down the urge to push his brother away. Hermione would heal better with all of them beside her. That’s what mattered.

Notes:

Two questions for you to contemplate, with the understanding that I'm not promising anything:

Do you want more house hunting or do you feel like they've done enough?

Do you want to see various characters go through therapy or just hear them talk about it?

Chapter 38

Notes:

Trigger Warning: Bad BDSM Etiquette I let this scene get away from me. Some people have enjoyed it, some have been horrified. Just be forewarned that Percy doesn’t behave as he’s made it sound like he would. Please skip the last section if you think it will upset you.

Again, they were on the raised speech platform in front of a crowd at the Ministry. Again, Harry and Hermione were hovering nearby, but neither wanted anything to do with speaking. Ron grinned as the crowd looked to him. They saw him as the mouthpiece of the Golden Trio and he loved it.

Continuing from where Kingsley left off in his explanation of what would happen next, Ron said, “Speaking as an Auror in training, the Ministry holding cells are full right now with the lower-risk security prisoners from the war.”

“Which is why it is important that we begin the trials with these lesser offenders,” Kingsley picked back up. “Regular criminals are still taking advantage of the chaos left behind from the Death Eaters and need a place to be held as well.”

“Why isn’t the Council of Magical Law handling these smaller trials?” a stocky dark-haired reporter demanded.

“After the first war, many of the trials associated with those war crimes were carried out by the Council of Magical Law and many of the Death Eaters used their influence to get out of their charges. That will not happen this time,” Kingsley explained.

“How are you going to ensure that?” Rita Skeeter asked doubtfully.

“Every trial will be carried out by the full Wizengamot,” Kingsley answered. “Also, having a Dark Mark on one’s arm is a guaranteed minimum of two years in Azkaban before any other charge is brought.”

There was a collective gasp from the crowd. “How do you know you’ve caught everyone with a Mark?” a young woman asked — Belinda Bagshot, Ron recognized.

“We haven’t,” Ron answered. “But we, the Aurors, are using a variety of methods and all our available resources to bring in those who are still at large.” He wouldn’t tell them about the way they were systematically checking every Ministry worker or going through personnel files to find out who was helping Voldemort’s agenda during the war, but it was happening.

“Furthermore,” Kingsley began, “Unlike a regular Wizengamot session which meets two days per week, we will meet five days per week until the trials are complete.”

Hermione reluctantly stepped forward. “The next few weeks will be hard, but we will come out on the other side stronger and better prepared to work together on our future. There are so many things we know you are all suffering through right now, but they will get better.”

There was a rumble of discontent, that five days a week was too much, but no single voice rose. Kingsley wrapped up the statement and bid everyone good day so the low profile cases may begin.

Rita Skeeter suddenly popped up again, shrieking, “Wait! When will you be back in a regular session? I have a formal apology to make. People need relief!”

“After the trials we will work to ensure that everyone’s needs are being met,” Kingsley assured her, though he looked like he wanted to sneer at her for putting her own interests first. With that, he swept away, taking Ron, Harry, and Hermione with him.

“Are you all right, Harry?” Hermione asked as soon as they were out of the speaking booth’s voice-enhancing charms.

“No,” he replied and Ron realized he looked a bit pale. He wondered how much Harry had really recovered from his ordeal yesterday. His friend added, “But we have work to do.”

“The trials will take up the whole day,” Hermione said regretfully.

“I know,” Harry said, “but after, I’m going to ask the Lords and Ladies of the Light for their help with my bill.”

“That’ll be the ticket,” Ron encouraged, knowing his best mate needed it. “You’re going to make this happen.”

Harry just sighed as they headed toward the Wizengamot Chambers. Ron wanted to talk to him some more but Aurors appeared around them, including Millie. He certainly wasn’t going to have an in depth conversation in front of her.

Instead, Ron looked at Hermione and saw her nod. They would see what they could do to cheer Harry up later.

********

The woman sitting in the chained chair in the center of the room was doing her best to talk her way out of what she had done, but Fred was confident she wouldn’t be able to. The Lords and Ladies looked grim — most out of anger though a few because their friends were getting caught.

First, the Wizengamot had tried offenders who were only charged with willingly supplying funds and resources to the Death Eaters directly. John and Lucinda Burke, Adonis Entwhistle, and Ferdinand Bulstrode had all been found guilty and sentenced to two years of wandless house arrest with exorbitant fines and ten years of having their finances monitored.

It had been a long morning determining all of that. Especially when the muggleborns, a woman named Emily Shaw in particular, were appalled by the lack of representation for the defendant. Fred could see that she had a point, but who would want to represent them? Ultimately Kingsley had moved things along by pointing out that there was nothing to defend.

Now, they were on to trying the spouses of the Death Eaters, though thankfully there were only a few. It was Rosemary Parkinson on trial at the moment. She had tried to claim she was unaware of her husband’s allegiances, but there was too much evidence to the contrary. Plus, she had been the one to scream “mudblood” in the atrium crowd — now an illegal offense. Fred was more than ready to vote on her guilt and he could tell many others were as well.

There was only one more trial slotted after this one today. The last wife was Narcissa Malfoy who was expected to have a more lengthy stay in the Azkaban cell next to her husband.

After her, they would be free for the day, which suited Fred. He knew he would be neglecting the shop over the next several weeks and, while George was supportive of his place in the Wizengamot and completely capable of running the shop on his own, Fred wanted to be with his twin as much as possible when he could.

Finally, Kingsley made the call to vote. In a sweeping motion, all but the darkest families condemned Rosemary Parkinson to six months in Azkaban followed by five years of wandless house arrest for aiding and abetting her husband’s many crimes. That carried its own fines as well, with an added fine for using that word.

As she was taken away by the Aurors, Kingsley said, “We have only one more trial scheduled today, but we will adjourn now for lunch.”

“We could just get it done now,” Joe, the muggleborn, suggested. Fred needed to learn the man’s last name. It was something common, a fact that no doubt rubbed the high Lords and Ladies the wrong way.

Lord Ogden chided, “Some of us have waited far too long for this woman to see justice. The course of Lady Malfoy’s life is at stake and we certainly want to allow time for due consideration of all the evidence.” Though his words sounded proper, Fred noticed a gleam of vindictive pleasure in his eyes. This man was no fan of Malfoy’s mum.

“Session recessed for one hour,” Kingsley said, sounding a chime that let them all know they were free for the moment. Fred sighed, half in relief and half in irritation. He was hungry, but he was also eager to be done.

Entering the antechamber set aside for their use, Fred quickly caught sight of Harry, Hermione, and Bill talking with Lady Shacklebolt and three of the members of the Muggleborn Coalition. As he made his way to them, his eyes were roving the room. There were so many pranks he could play on the unsuspecting members of the Wizengamot, but he had to behave for now. Once he was established, things would change. This place, these people, would lighten up. But not yet.

And that was okay. There was a lot of serious business to be decided right now.

“Do you think you could teach me?” Lady Shacklebolt was asking, pointing to what he knew Hermione referred to as a ‘pen.’

“They’re really quite simple,” Bee began.

“Even for wizards,” Scarlett quipped.

“Now the question is,” Fred began as he slipped an arm around Hermione, “were you disparaging wizarding kind or men?”

“Both,” Scarlett replied decisively, making Fred laugh loudly despite his earlier conclusion to keep things serious.

Before Fred could come up with something else clever to say, Joe — Smith, that was the bloke’s name — sidled up beside Lady Shacklebolt and said, “Here, I have an extra,” with a smile as he fished it out of his pocket. “I can show you how to use it.”

Fred was amused to see Harry look momentarily upset by it before excusing himself and walking off. That poor boy’s bonds had him lusting after everyone. Or perhaps it was just that he wasn’t in danger for the first time in years so his hormones were finally free to perk up. On his sister’s behalf, Fred could have been offended, but he wasn’t. He didn’t begrudge Harry anything that would help make up for everything he had been through.

Hermione leaned up to whisper in Fred’s ear, “You’ve done so well today.”

He smiled down at her, but said, “I haven’t done anything except listen and vote.”

“Exactly,” Hermione said, grinning at him. “There hasn’t been a single dungbomb dropped yet.”

“Yet?” he asked. “You wound me.”

“Not as much as refraining does,” she told him, perhaps more accurately than he wished.

“You know me too well,” he said before they were both drawn back into conversation until Harry burst out from across the room.

“You are supposed to represent the Houses of the Light! You said you would help us and—”

“And that does not include letting you make fools of the rest of us with this nonsense about passing a bill when you’ve only just arrived,” Lady Longbottom scolded.

“Hear, hear,” some of the older members said from around the room. Fred could tell that the voices added to whatever Lady Longbottom had said before were just making Harry more furious.

“Where is your version of it then?” he demanded.

Taken aback, Lady Longbottom shook her head. “We have these trials—”

“Nothing is more important than making sure the children of our world are taken care of,” Harry hissed loudly. “A beacon of the Light should be aware of that and working to fix it!”

“Hear, hear,” Fred said loudly, in the stuffiest voice he could manage. Harry needed to know he wasn’t alone in this.

Lee snorted nearby, and Seamus chuckled, but both raised their voices to agree, as did most of the DA.

Bill had given him a look when Fred spoke, but his brother was just going to have to accept that he was still himself, even on best behavior. Supporting Harry was one thing Fred wasn’t backing down from.

Harry continued, “So if my bill isn’t good enough, where is yours?”

Lady Longbottom’s nose went a little higher in the air. “There are many important—”

“So you won’t help me and you won’t do it yourself. How can you call yourself Light?” Harry sneered. Hermione was beside him now, one hand on his arm to hold him back. They all knew what Harry was like when he lost his temper.

She was whispering fiercely, but Fred couldn’t hear what she was saying. Unfortunately, it appeared that Lady Longbottom could and didn’t like it. “No one among the Houses of the Light will help you with a bill. We’ve told you already that you’re too young and inexperienced for this. Too headstrong, as well, obviously.”

“Besides, there will be no bills passed until we get through all of the trials. It should be sometime next week. All other business can wait,” Lord Abbott said more gently, a hand on Lady Longbottom’s shoulder to calm her, but also showing they were a united front, if Fred was interpreting correctly.

He felt a wave of fury and he wasn’t sure if it was Hermione’s or his own. He started to step into the fray but Bill suddenly had a tight grip on his arm.

“I’m sure we’ll find the information we need somewhere, Lord Potter,” Bill said formally.

Harry lifted his chin and said, “We certainly will.” Fred wasn’t sure where they would find the information they needed, but he was confident that they would. When Harry set his mind to something, he didn’t back down. And they would be behind him all the way.

*************

“Ginny said I would find you here,” George said, laughing when his older brother jumped. Then it was his own turn to jump. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

Charlie was in what used to be Hagrid’s garden, surrounded by blood and animal parts. There was a giant butcher’s knife in his hand.

“I’m preparing for the Fireballs. They arrive tomorrow,” he explained.

“Where did you get all that… whatever it is?” George asked, trying not to sound disgusted.

“I made contact with the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest and they gave me some of the meat they had recently hunted that wasn’t up to their standards. The dragons won’t mind, and the centaurs were happy to get rid of it as a “welcoming gift.” It’s not what I’ll do normally, of course, but I can’t order meat ahead until Azara and Dahrian are actually here, goblins’ orders,” Charlie explained, shaking his head. “They’ll be hungry at the end of their long flight, though, so I want to be prepared.”

“Are the goblins going to make your job hard?”

“Sometimes, I imagine,” Charlie said with a shrug. “But they were pleased when we set up the portal for the dragons, impressed with the spellwork Hermione and I had done and the way Fleur attached it to the bank’s wards for us. I think they’ll get better as we get to know each other.”

“I hope so. Seeing you covered in blood like this is going to feature in my nightmares,” George said with a shudder. It made him think of the battle, and Fred, and what it would have been like to lose another brother, too.

Charlie paused, looking closely at him. “Are you having a lot of nightmares?”

“Only on the nights Hermione isn’t with us,” George admitted, running his hand across the back of his neck. He didn’t like admitting it, but he knew Charlie would be able to tell if he lied.

Nodding, Charlie said, “I have them, too, you know. It’s natural. Losing Freddie would have devastated all of us. Losing any of you. And Hermione…” He trailed off, looking visibly shaken at the idea. As often happened, George wondered at the connection between the two. He knew how Fred felt about the possibility of them having been fated for one another, but it would make sense.

“If I wake up and Fred’s not in the room, sometimes I panic,” George admitted.

He had always felt compelled to tell his brother things like this. Bill, too, but Charlie was easier somehow, less an authoritative figure and more approachable. Not to mention that he had enough empathy for the whole lot of them. So he was the one George had confessed to, even when they were kids and he knew perfectly well his big brother was going to turn around and tell Bill or their Mum, as he should. Now, George knew this would stay between them unless he asked Charlie to tell someone else.

“Have you talked to Hermione about it?” Charlie asked.

George shook his head. “No. I don’t want her to have one more thing to worry about.”

“No, but she said she met someone — some muggle thing called a therapist, a Mind Healer, Hermione called her. Maybe she could help?” he suggested gently.

Shrugging, George said, “I’m not sure it’s bad enough to need help with them. And having Hermione around settles me. Maybe they’ll be better entirely after we do the ritual to loosen the bonds, eh?”

“It could be but, George, if it isn’t, could you do me a favor and talk to Hermione about these nightmares?” Charlie pushed.

“Fine,” George agreed sullenly.

“Now,” Charlie said, looking George in the eyes. “I doubt you came here to ask me about dragons or tell me about nightmares — though you’re always welcome to — so what’s on your mind?”

“Oh! Bill asked me to let you know we’ll have a family meeting tomorrow evening. Fleur’s fixing dinner at their place,” George said sheepishly. He had entirely forgotten.

Charlie nodded once. “Figured it was about time for one. I’ll be there as long as the dragons have arrived and settled.”

“Sounds fair to me,” George told him. “I don’t think even Bill would try to come between you and the dragons.”

*************

As the Wizengamot session resumed, all of Harry’s focus was on keeping himself together. He had lied to Madam Pomfrey that morning in order to be allowed to leave. And he was lying every time he told his concerned friends that he was fine.

Of course, they seemed to know that he was lying, but he wasn’t going to leave. The things happening in the Wizengamot were too important. Besides, he didn’t want wizarding society to think there was any more wrong with him than they already did, thanks to his collapse yesterday. He had already been Rita Skeeter’s headline this morning — detailing that and how he tried to pass a bill. Bill said he should demand a formal apology, but Harry didn’t think it was worth the trouble even though he was still impressed by how thoroughly it had muzzled the bug about the Weasleys.

Besides, he hoped the article would enrage the wizarding public and they would demand that his bill be taken seriously. It was a long shot, but perhaps everyone would be angry enough with the rest of the Wizengamot that they would reconsider it despite the back to back trials.

Harry sighed, setting aside that daydream to focus on what was about to happen. He knew many expected Narcissa Malfoy to end up in Azkaban alongside her husband — at least that bastard had better end up there this time — but that wouldn’t be happening for her. Harry was willing to use all his fame to assure it would not.

The trial began as they all did — leading the accused in and chaining her to the chair in the center of the room. Narcissa was visibly shaking even though she was still sitting primly under the chains.

“Now begins the trial of Narcissa Malfoy nee Black,” Percy announced. “She is charged with funding and housing a Dark Lord.”

Narcissa shrunk in on herself as the evidence was presented, damning her irrevocably. Finally, they gave their recommendation for sentencing — five years in Azkaban. She shuddered as Kingsley turned to her. “Do you, the accused, have anything to say for yourself?”

Her voice, too, was shaking, but Narcissa managed to project it loud and clear. “As for the financial backing the House of Malfoy provided, I have never had any control over the finances of any House. I did not try to stop my husband from inviting that monster into our home out of fear for what he would do to our son, Draco. Everything I have done was for him.”

“When you say you feared what “he” would do to your son, do you refer to your husband or to Voldemort?”

She shuddered again at the name. “I meant my husband, but both would be more accurate. They each saw Draco as a pawn they could use to further their own agendas. I often felt I was the only thing standing between my son and the peril the Dark Lord was sending him into.”

“That’s very touching,” Kingsley said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “but it does not excuse your actions. They will be judged—”

“Objection,” came a firm voice from one of the seats the Muggleborn Coalition had taken. Harry smiled as he recognized Emily Shaw standing. “You cannot call a vote yet, Chief Warlock.”

“Whyever not?” Kingsley asked, sounding baffled, though Harry knew it was an act.

“There is a witness for Narcissa Malfoy nee Black,” Emily announced, making her way down into the center to stand next to the accused. “Though evidence suggests she committed the crime of enabling Lord Voldemort to flourish, she was instrumental in his downfall.”

The chamber went from hushed to agitated in seconds. It was hard to believe, after all.

“I call forth Lord Potter, otherwise known as the Boy Who Conquered, to tell us the role Narcissa played in his quest to stop Lord Voldemort.”

Standing, Harry made his way down to the center of the chamber after a quick hand squeeze of support from Hermione. Almost everyone was staring at him in astonishment. Only the few who knew the story of what had happened weren’t boggled by his move.

Harry took a deep breath once he was standing beside Narcissa. Even she was staring at him in shock. He tried to smile at her reassuringly, but it probably came out as more of a grimace. She paled as she looked at him.

“There was a point in the Battle of Hogwarts when everyone thought I was dead. I expected to be. I had gone into the forest intending to sacrifice myself to save everyone else, foolishly not realizing that it wouldn’t stop Voldemort from taking over. Indeed, he hit me with the Killing Curse again.”

There was a gasp of horror and awe. He had survived the Killing Curse twice — the only person to have ever done so even once. For Harry it was no big deal, but he knew what it meant to the rest of wizarding society.

“Still, I knew I had to die, because a fragment of Voldemort’s soul was attached to me, attached to my scar.”

More gasps of horror. Lady Brown looked like she might go into hysterics. Considering what he had known of her daughter, Harry wouldn’t be surprised. He held up his hands.

“What neither I nor Voldemort realized was that the Killing Curse would kill that shard of him rather than me. In the forest, Voldemort sent Mrs Malfoy to check and be certain I was dead. I have no doubt that he would have hit me with another Killing Curse, actually killing me this time, if she had not lied to his face.”

This time there were gasps of shock and surprise. A soft gasp even came from Narcissa herself, staring at Harry as though she couldn’t believe he was speaking for her.

“When she leaned down to check my pulse, she knew I was alive. She whispered to me, asking if Draco was still alive. I told her that last I had seen him, he was. Lady Malfoy is first and foremost a mother. Because she told Voldemort I was dead, I was able to surprise everyone and begin the fight that led to his death. In the end, it was this mother’s love that saved us all.” Harry’s voice was ringing in the chamber as he finished his statement. He wasn’t sure when he had gotten so into telling the story, but it could only help her.

“Lord Potter, are you saying that the accused should be freed with no consequences?” Kingsley asked.

“Of course not,” Harry huffed. “But they should be significantly reduced. Ms. Shaw and I have worked together and she has a proposal prepared.”

Turning to Emily, Kingsley asked, “What is this proposal?”

“We suggest that Narcissa Malfoy should spend the next three years on house arrest at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where she will be completing community service — which she will provide by teaching Wizarding Customs.”

There were surprised gasps before Lord Greengrass raised his wand and said, “I don’t recall there being a Wizarding Customs course at Hogwarts.”

“There wasn’t, but there will be now,” Hermione said almost before the tip of her wand could light up to signal she would like to speak.

“By whose authority?” Lord Greengrass demanded. “Almost all of the Board of Governors are in Azkaban at this time.”

“Using my authority as Minister, I have ordered the creation of a committee to guide educational reform at Hogwarts. The Board of Governors, when its new members have been seated, will defer to this committee,” Kingsley said just as smoothly as Lord Greengrass usually was.

At this moment, the man sputtered in return. “You can’t just decide to change centuries of traditions at the greatest Wizarding school in the world.”

“Unfortunately at this time, OWL and NEWT results suggest Hogwarts is one of the worst magical schools in the world. Plus, the changes we are focusing on are in the hopes that we can stop the next war before it happens, through education.”

“Starting with,” Hermione cut in, unable to stay quiet, “Wizarding Customs courses for all muggle-raised students, to match the courses the Muggleborn Coalition will be offering to adults for the next few years. Meanwhile, Muggle Studies will be updated and become mandatory for all wizarding-raised students.”

“Why should that… muggleborn child have any say in what happens to our world?” Lady Burke asked, her sneer clearly communicating that “muggleborn” wasn’t her preferred word choice.

“As you undoubtedly know,” Kingsley began, “Hermione Weasley is the proxy of the House of Black. As it is one of the Houses on the Committee, she knows more on the subject than I do at the moment.”

“Just who is on this committee?” Lord Pritchard demanded, giving Hermione a look of barely concealed distaste.

Kingsley was staring the man down as he listed, “Houses Black, Potter, Weasley—”

“All untried children!” Lady Longbottom protested.

“Hey—” Bill began.

“And Lupin,” Kingsley completed. “I believe you’ll find Lady Tonks quite capable of representing the older generations.”

“The werewolf lover’s family? She doesn’t represent us at all,” Lord Flint exclaimed.

“It is fortunate, then, that I — the Minister — don’t require your approval to create or name members to a committee,” Kingsley said with a smile.

Several of the older members of the Wizengamot gasped. Harry hoped it felt like a slap in the face. They bloody well deserved one.

“Nor are committee members required to represent anyone in particular, as many of you are aware, having served on committees previously. I will soon be scrutinizing all current committees to assess if they should be disbanded or have their membership changed.” Kingsley told them.

There was a murmur, a low undercurrent of disgruntlement from the Wizengamot, but no one argued. He was right, after all. Hermione had told Harry far more about the way that Wizarding law worked than he had ever cared to know. The Minister had a lot of power, too much really, unless the Wizengamot voted directly against something they themselves ordered. That had only ever happened a handful of times, though Harry still wasn’t entirely clear on why.

“Can we bicker later?” Scarlett Bateman demanded. “We have a witch on trial here.”

“Not until we know what we’re agreeing to!” Lord Abbott protested. “Who will oversee the Death Eater and make sure she’s only teaching culture instead of pureblood supremacy?”

“She wasn’t a—” Hermione began, but no one was paying attention.

Lady Longbottom side-eyed Bill. “Molly Weasley,” she suggested with a smirk. “She’s a pureblood with the knowledge of our society but won’t allow this witch to indoctrinate the children. She taught seven upstanding citizens and she has little to do these days, so she will be perfect for the position.”

There was silence for a moment while everyone waited for the Weasleys present to explode. When none of them did — though Fred looked like he was probably biting the inside of his cheek to control himself — Harry stepped forward. “Molly Weasley is still grieving Arthur’s death. What if she isn’t interested?”

“While that is possible,” Andromeda spoke up, “this might facilitate her healing.” Though her words echoed in the chamber for everyone to hear, Harry knew she was talking specifically to Bill, Fred, and Hermione.

Before anyone else could protest, Harry said, “She will be the first person we approach then. If she says no, I suggest the Education Reform Committee be in charge of finding another suitable candidate.”

“Only if the Wizengamot as a whole is able to vote on the decision made,” Lord Fitz insisted loudly.

Harry didn’t like it, but he could tell by the nods of all the elder members that this was a fight he wasn’t going to win. “Fine. On this particular issue, if Molly Weasley is unavailable, the Committee will submit their candidate to the Wizengamot as a whole.”

There was a brighter murmur all around him and Harry was happy to see heads nodding.

“So with that settled,” Percy focused everyone by asking, “are we ready to move forward?”

Everyone stared down at Narcissa, who was looking slightly less despondent, though her eyes were much wider than they had been at the beginning of the trial. She looked to Harry even as Emily Shaw asked her, “Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, will you consent to the terms of this proposed sentence, or would you prefer a sentence in Azkaban?”

When Harry gave a brief nod, she turned to Emily and said, “I will consent to the terms proposed.”

“All those who accept this proposal to be carried out?” Kingsley boomed.

“We’ve sentenced others more for doing less — for simply supplying money or using that word rather than housing the Dark Lord — how is this justice?” demanded Lord Blotts.

There was rumbling from all around, and Harry realized that there were others — probably a lot of others — who felt the same. Standing, he said, “Let me remind you, I would have died at Voldemort’s hand without her intervention. She made poor choices, but they were made under duress, and she has redeemed herself at great personal risk.”

The rumbling of voices died down and he saw heads nodding. Before anyone could protest, Kingsley again asked, “All those in favor of this proposal?”

Wands lit up sporadically all over the room. The members from the darkest Houses were glaring at Narcissa with their wands conspicuously down. It was clear they blamed her for Voldemort’s demise and the situation so many of their peers were in. She would be in danger, but much less so at Hogwarts.

Lady Longbottom and Lord Pritchard weren’t voting for the proposal either, but there were enough for the vote to carry without them. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, noticing that Hermione did the same.

Narcissa was led out as Kingsley announced the next day’s trials — Dolores Umbridge and Pius Thicknesse — and dismissed them. Hermione had Harry’s arm, pulling him up and leading him toward the exit. Another day without any help for the war orphans. Harry was quietly furious at this fact.

Suddenly, a woman appeared beside them. “Lord Potter, Lady Weasley,” she greeted. “I am Lady Elaine Zabini and there are some things I believe we should discuss.”

Harry was taken aback. He suspected from Blaise Zabini’s placement in Slytherin that they were a dark House, but Lady Zabini was not looking at him like she hated him.

“Perhaps we could see you in the office of House Black?” Hermione suggested.

“That would be wise,” Lady Zabini agreed.

The three were quiet as they made their way from the room. Harry noticed several of the older Lords and Ladies looking at the three of them askance. He wasn’t surprised, really, since he had no idea what direction this meeting would take.

As they made their way through the Ministry, he wondered what the woman wanted. Hermione, too, looked nervous. But Lady Zabini was completely unruffled, smiling a gorgeous smile at anyone — especially the men — who looked her way. She was much too old for him, but Harry noticed that she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her face was perfect, and her figure…

Harry tripped and nearly fell on his face in the middle of the DMLE from watching her hips sway. Hermione looked at him worriedly, and he hoped she thought his blush was embarrassment at stumbling rather than his real reason. The fact that she wasn’t chastising him, though, suggested she was none the wiser and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The decor of the office of House Black reflected its name. The desk and matching chairs were black, as was all the other furniture in the room. Black and ornate. Harry couldn’t help but feel intimidated as Hermione took her place behind the desk, leaving Harry to pull out Lady Zabini’s chair for her — trying not to blush again — before taking his own, partially facing both women.

He barely noticed that Hermione had left the door open, just erecting silencing spells instead of closing the office.

“I brought us here for neutral ground,” Hermione began, “but I’m uncertain if you wanted me to be part of the conversation or not.”

“You are involved even if not directly,” Lady Zabini said. “Besides, I believe you would want the knowledge even if you weren’t otherwise involved.”

“Knowledge?” Hermione questioned, scooting to the edge of her seat.

The Lady smiled. “Yes, I’m here to offer you the information you need on how to make your bill viable.”

Harry reeled in shock. “You are? But aren’t you—”

“Dark?” she cut him off with a smile that was a little more deadly. “Many people think so, but House Zabini is traditionally Neutral. We will remain neutral but, in this case, I wish to work together with your Houses.”

Before he could think it through, Harry launched himself across the space between them, throwing his arms around the woman and thanking her profusely. He heard Hermione admonish him, but he couldn’t pretend to care.

Still, when he pulled away, Harry was a bit embarrassed. “Ah… sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just… I was—”

“Despairing there would be no way to do what is right?” Lady Zabini suggested with a smile as she smoothed herself. “You have nothing to apologize for, Lord Potter.”

“Call me Harry!” he blurted.

She looked amused as she inclined her head and said, “Won’t that just tweak the noses of some of those old biddies?”

“They deserve it,” Harry declared vehemently.

“They do indeed,” Lady Zabini laughed. “Now, if you’re interested, may I look at your bill?”

It was Hermione who immediately produced a copy and they all drew their chairs to the desk as Lady Zabini began making corrections and suggestions, explaining as she went along.

They worked until Andromeda found them and reminded Harry of his offer to watch Teddy that afternoon. Her eyes took in the group, hardening slightly at Lady Zabini until she eyed what they were working on. Harry saw Andromeda register surprise and then a smile to the woman.

“This should be enough to get the bill passed,” Lady Zabini told him. “I will be voting for it now, and probably plenty of others, though you only needed two more votes.”

“I can’t thank you enough—” Harry began, taking both her hands in his.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Lady Zabini said with a small laugh. “You still have to convince them to consider it for a vote again.”

“We’re still further along than we were without your assistance,” Hermione said, “And so much more knowledgeable.” Harry could tell Hermione was thrilled by that fact. She had been taking notes the whole time. “I hope we can work together again,” she told Lady Zabini.

“Don’t expect it to always be so,” the Lady demurred, “but I am certain this won’t be the last time.”

**********

“Where is Hermione?” Percy asked his oldest brother. One moment she had been there and then she disappeared in the crowd.

“She left with Harry and Lady Zabini,” Bill explained. He looked slightly worried, but not as much as he should be.

“Why did you let them go alone?” Percy hissed. “You know what that woman is known for. I am certain that Aunt Muriel and Mum had a field day gossiping about her.”

Bill nodded. “They did,” he confirmed, “but they’re headed for the office of House Black. Hermione and Harry should both be protected in there.”

“The charms and enchantments on those old offices are strong, Bill, but they don’t ward against everything, especially when the person is invited in. Not to mention the things that witch could do on the way there. I’m going to go find her,” Percy declared. He knew his brother understood which “her” he meant.

“Them,” Bill corrected. “Don’t forget that Harry is important to us, too.”

“Of course,” Percy snapped. Yes, he was another brother in a way, and the father of their sister’s baby, but he still wasn’t half as important to Percy as Hermione was.

As he started walking briskly through the Ministry, he realized that Bill was close behind him. “Would you slow down?” his brother asked irritably.

“I didn’t ask you to follow me,” Percy retorted, feeling the urge to make a childish gesture to let his brother know how he felt about it.

“No, but if you’re so worried, you should have some back-up,” Bill argued.

Percy noticed him gasping for air a bit and felt a swell of pride that the muggle fitness routine Miss Penny had put him on some time ago had him in better condition than even Bill. He still wasn’t muscular the way Charlie was, and never would be, but that wasn’t the kind of strong he was or wanted to be.

Right now, the only kind of strength he was focused on was magical, hoping they weren’t too late to stave off whatever calamity the two had walked into now. Percy was brought up short when they came to the door of Hermione’s office and found it open, the occupants inside bent over the desk with their heads together. There was a silencing barrier so that he couldn’t hear their words, but it was clear Lady Zabini was helping Harry and Hermione with something.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and Percy jumped, having forgotten Bill was there. “They’re fine,” his older brother declared. “Let’s go to my office for a minute. I’ve been meaning to ask you for help with my werewolf legislation, and we’ll still be close if they need us.”

Reluctantly, he let Bill draw him away. Percy had been meaning to talk to Bill about that legislation for a while, too. Yes, he had given his own version to Hermione some time ago, but he knew it must have slipped her mind. Conjuring a copy, he laid it down on the desk when they got into the office of House Weasley.

“What’s this?” Bill asked.

“It’s legislation I drew up a while back,” Percy said, wishing he didn’t feel so much like a child looking for his big brother’s approval.

“This is werewolf legislation,” Bill said in shock.

“It is,” Percy agreed. “After knowing Lupin — what he did for our side of the war and how much pain and prejudice he went through, I, well, I didn’t think the laws were right anymore. Let me read through what you have.”

“And I’ll read yours,” Bill said with a smile as his eyes were already beginning to move over the page. Several quiet minutes passed, taking in the things Bill wanted that Percy hadn’t thought of, before he had the creepy feeling of being watched.

Bill was staring at him like he’d never seen Percy before, then suddenly lunged forward, wrapping him in a hug so strong Percy wasn’t sure he would ever breathe again. “It’s not that good,” Percy managed to say.

“It has most of the items I want to cover,” Bill said, “Only in the language needed for it to move forward!”

“Bill,” Percy warned as his brother finally released him, “This is going to be a hard one to pass, especially with the things you want to add.”

“And I’ll need your help adding those things properly, if you don’t mind,” Bill said, completely ignoring Percy’s warning.

“Of course I don’t mind, but—”

“I heard you,” Bill cut him off. “But I’m not accepting it. Even if it takes a while, we will get this passed.”

“Even though they still can’t even agree on helping war orphans?” Percy asked.

“Even though,” Bill said confidently. “Harry and Hermione will find people to help. They draw people in. It may not be the easy sweep of changes we would like, but I am confident we’re going to make them happen eventually.”

The two sat down, working diligently to bring Bill’s new ideas into the document Percy had already prepared, combining the two and making a bill strong enough that it should pass even if the Wizengamot only had a shred of human decency.

There was a knock at the door, making them both jump. When he looked up, Percy instantly smiled. Even though he was a little irritated with himself for forgetting to collect her — he looked at the clock and realized it was already dinner time — the sight of Hermione before him would always bring a smile to his face.

“How did your meeting go?” Bill asked.

“I trust neither of you were cursed while with her?” Percy added, trying to bite back his jealousy and failing.

Hermione rolled her eyes, a habit Percy really needed to train out of her. “No, of course not,” she scoffed. More happily, she gushed, “Lady Zabini taught us everything she knew about how to present the war orphans bill and get it passed. She also helped us rewrite it, though I know we could have asked you for that part, Percy.”

“It’s quite alright,” he told her, even though it wasn’t entirely. “I’m glad she was willing to work with the two of you. I suppose we’ll see in time what she gains from this.”

“Harry and Hermione’s gratitude is a commodity already, I should imagine,” Bill pointed out, and Percy hated that he hadn’t thought of it first. He was off his political game today, distracted by his plans for the evening.

His anticipation was high at the thought of finally consummating his relationship with Hermione. More than just that, however, Percy was certain they would discover Hermione was a natural submissive. She needed to let go of the tight control she maintained and he would teach her how. He had taught others, but this felt different. She was so much more important than any other had been.

But he had promised her passion, and he intended to give it to her.

*********

Hermione had been so focused on the trials, the muggleborns, managing Harry, and then the proper way to write and gain support for bills that she hadn’t had time to think about her evening plans with Percy until now. She felt her stomach fill with butterflies when she saw the way he was looking at her — that sharp, hot gaze sweeping across her body. When he gave her a slow grin, she felt like she might melt on the spot.

He somehow made her feel like they were intimate and alone despite being still within the Weasley office. Bill coughed. “Perhaps I should let the two of you get on with your evening,” he said.

“Agreed,” Percy said, but he never looked at Bill. Instead, he stepped forward, a hand wrapping gently but possessively around Hermione’s arm. “If you’re ready, darling?”

The way he said “darling” sent a shiver up Hermione’s spine. “Yes,” she answered. Truly, she meant to acknowledge Bill before leaving the room, but she was so swept up by Percy’s intense gaze that she forgot until they were already out of the office and halfway out of the Ministry.

“Where are we going?” she asked him as they walked quickly toward the atrium.

He looked down at her and smiled. “You’ll see,” he told her. When she started to pout and protest, he added in a hushed tone, “Be a good girl and let me surprise you.”

That sent another shiver through her. Surprises weren’t her favorite things, but she could get used to them if he kept talking to her with that voice. She allowed herself to be guided into the floo, shocked when he called out, “The Lunar Tower.”

As they stepped from the floo, Hermione wanted to protest. This was one of the most prestigious restaurants in wizarding London, and rumored to have a price tag that matched. It was such a revered place that the Death Eaters had even left it alone.

There was a beautiful, golden staircase in front of them, winding up and up and up into a tower that she had heard didn’t even exist from outside the building. Hermione was so busy staring in wonder that she almost didn’t notice when the beautiful blonde hostess greeted “Master Percy” and offered to show him the way to his private table.

“You reserved a private table for us?” she gasped as she accepted his elbow and they started up the infinite staircase.

A tingle of magic ran over her body between one step and the next and Hermione knew they had been magically transported to their destination. Only a couple more stairs and they were at the top, stepping out onto the rooftop, surrounded by the moon and stars, despite it not being nighttime yet. The ethereal ambiance of eternal night was one of the primary attractions of The Lunar Tower.

The blonde led them over to a table before bowing to them and leaving. Percy pulled Hermione’s chair out for her and let her sit before pushing her chair in. He was an absolute gentleman except that he ran his hand up her arm as he stepped back — in a way that could have been an accident but Hermione was certain it was not. She shivered in reaction to his touch and leaned forward to take a hasty drink of the wine already on the table.

“I took the liberty of arranging our menu for the evening in advance. You need to eat more, but the food here is rich and I don’t want you making yourself sick,” Percy explained as he sat. His demeanor was serious.

“I wouldn’t make myself sick,” she protested, prickling at the nerve of him.

His lips pressed together and Hermione felt the urge to squirm, feeling like she was already disappointing him, which she certainly didn’t want to do. After a moment, he smiled and said, “You haven’t tasted the exquisite food here yet. Believe me, my way will also allow you to sample more of the menu so that you know what you want next time.”

“We’re having multiple courses?” she asked in surprise, though she probably should have expected it at a place like this.

Percy laughed. “Think of it more like a buffet. They’re bringing us a bit of everything.”

“But—” That had to have cost a fortune.

“No buts, darling,” he said, laying a single finger over her lips to quiet her. It worked instantly, though Hermione couldn’t say why. Just that, again, it felt like going against him would be a disappointment to the man across from her and that was the last thing she wanted. “Tonight I wish to provide you with every extravagance. Indulge me, please,” he added.

“Yes, sir,” she let slip just as a handsome, dark-haired waiter appeared with a tray full of their first course. There was something familiar about the man, which made Hermione even more uncomfortable, but when he smiled, whatever resemblance she was imagining to someone she knew was gone.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat as the man looked at her, then at Percy, exchanging a grin. He clearly knew what her words meant about their relationship.

When he was gone, Percy smiled at her. “Very good, little girl, remembering what to call me. You needn’t be embarrassed about using my title in front of the staff. They know what you are to me now.”

His statement made her blush harder, but Hermione nodded. Frowning at her, Percy said, “A verbal answer is better.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, ducking her head.

“Much better. Now, let’s try some of their delectable hors d'oeuvres,” he suggested, picking up a small bite of something and holding it up for her.

“I can feed myself,” Hermione protested.

“Of course you can, but as I’m selecting what you try, this seems the most sensible.”

Whatever it was he was holding up smelled absolutely divine. Her stomach grumbled and Hermione pouted before leaning forward to take the bite from him. Flavor exploded on her tongue and she moaned before she could stop herself.

Percy smiled at her approvingly. “That’s perfect, darling,” he praised and she found herself blushing again even though there was no one there to see.

It didn’t help at all that her body was already responding to Percy’s praise and the look in his eyes. This time, when he offered her a bite of something else, she leaned forward eagerly, wanting his words almost as much as the delicious food he was offering.

“You know what would make this easier?” Percy said, his eyes filled with heat.

“What?” she asked, trying to suppress the shiver at his look.

“Come sit on my lap, little girl,” he told her. It was not a question.

“But the waiter—” she began.

“Is of no consequence to you when I tell you to come here,” Percy said. His voice was patient but it was clear he still expected to be obeyed.

Fighting with herself, her embarrassment and desire to make her own choices versus how much she already wanted him, Hermione stood and walked over. She settled gingerly on his knee before squealing as he pulled her more fully across his lap.

“We need you to be comfortable. There are several courses, after all,” he told her, offering another food for her to nibble on. “Are you comfortable? I want you always to be honest with me.”

“Yes, sir,” she told him shyly, trying not to squirm. She was comfortable, and loved how close she felt to him sitting here like this.

“Good. Throughout the rest of the evening, I want you to remember you can always say ‘Red’ and our play will stop. Or ‘Yellow’ if you just need to pause and change something we’re doing. If you are okay with everything that’s happening and I ask, tell me ‘Green.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered as he offered her yet another taste of something she couldn’t identify.

This time, Hermione didn’t protest, and focused on enjoying each delicious item he placed in her mouth. Between bites, he would taste as well, then ask her questions about her thoughts on everything that had happened in the Wizengamot. The conversation was easy between them. Hermione could almost forget that she was perched on his lap until the waiter walked in.

His brows rose at the sight of her and he grinned at Percy again. “Are you ready for your next course, Master Percy?” he asked.

“Yes, Marc. And don’t bother with that side of the table. We’ll be dining here for the rest of the meal,” Percy instructed the man. Marc hastily removed the first course and produced a large platter of the next. Again, the two men exchanged a grin before Percy turned back to Hermione, who knew her cheeks were flaming.

Even with the talk they had just had, she was having a hard time with the emotional side of things. “Did you have to do that?” she asked when the waiter was gone again.

“Do what, darling?” he asked mildly, though something in his eyes told her she was treading on dangerous ground questioning him like this.

“Embarrass me by making me sit here and saying so in front of that man,” she said, her voice smaller than she would have liked.

“What I have to do is teach you that my command is law when we are together like this, Hermione. There is no need for you to be embarrassed because the choices are mine. You get to simply relax and enjoy what I am doing for you,” Percy explained.

“But I—”

“It is understandable for now that you are embarrassed anyway. There may come many times in the future when you will find my choices embarrassing. I believe, though, that you will also find release and relief in giving over control, once you become accustomed to it,” he told her gently. His hand was rubbing gently at the back of her neck as he spoke and it was almost too relaxing to resist.

“That sounds lovely, but Percy—” Hermione started to protest.

“I will not allow you to continue questioning me. Speak no more of this for now. It is time for you to try our next course.”

Squirming, she tried to think of a way to protest that wouldn’t sound like questioning. Hermione was so focused on the problem that she took the bite he offered her without thought. The exquisite flavors burst in her mouth and she moaned in surprise.

He leaned against her, whispering straight into her ear. “That won’t be the only moaning you do tonight.” Leaning back, he added, “The food is excellent here, isn’t it?”

“Do you come here often?” Hermione asked.

“All the time,” Percy answered, for some reason grinning like the cat who got the cream.

“Really? It’s so expensive!” she said in surprise.

Shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile, Percy said, “In my line of work, it’s just part of things.”

“Oh, with the Minister, you mean?”

“Sometimes,” he agreed, for some reason feeling he might start laughing. “But Hermione, I mean that when I do my side job, dominating people, they sometimes pay for me to bring them places like this. It’s a good way for me to assert my dominance outside of the sexual scenes and make people feel cared for.”

She was puzzled by the confusing tangle of emotions this admission brought her. “So this isn’t really anything special for you?” she questioned.

“It is,” he protested. “This is a superb place to begin training someone, but you’re the first I’ve ever brought outside the bedroom so early.” Percy’s cheeks pinked a bit as he looked in her eyes and said, “And, this is the first time I’ve done it specifically for my own desires.”

Her brows creased. “So you haven’t enjoyed it before now?”

“Oh, I very much enjoy myself when I’m acting as a Dominant, but it’s not the same as doing it for myself. You’ll understand better as we go along, I think. You remember the book I gave you?” he asked between feeding each of them little bites of yet another dish.

“Yes,” she said, blushing again. Hermione wished she could stop that.

“It explains the mechanics, but it’s impossible to portray the emotions adequately. To truly understand, it must be experienced,” Percy said reverently.

“We never got to finish going through my list last time,” Hermione pointed out.

“We didn’t,” he agreed. “We should discuss it while we eat.”

“But the waiter—”

“Marc is very discreet. He will enjoy hearing, too, and imagining you in all the compromising situations we discuss.”

“Percy!” Hermione cried, her hands flying to her burning cheeks just as Marc himself made his way into the room.

“Remember that you refer to me only as ‘sir’ for now,” he chastised, paying no mind to the waiter gathering their things.

Gathering her indignation, Hermione began, “I will call you whatever—”

His silencing spell hit without a spoken word and Hermione gasped when she was cut off, her eyes going wide as she stared at him. “You will not,” he stated, his eyes communicating clearly just how much trouble she was in. To her surprise, Hermione’s stomach swooped at the look. “Marc, please place the next tray a little farther away from us. I don’t want it to be upset as I spank my unruly wife.”

Marc’s eyebrows shot higher on his head than ever before and he eyed Hermione curiously. She had begun trying to move off Percy’s lap, but he held her in an iron grip.

“There will be no escape, Hermione. You have not only disrespected me, little girl, but done so in front of someone. I know when we last spoke of it you were uncertain about spanking, so know that this will be quite gentle compared to my standard punishments. Do you need to use Yellow or Red?”

She couldn’t help it. Hermione was trembling almost as hard as she was blushing. But she shook her head as she looked up at Percy. Marc was dragging his feet gathering what few morsels were left, hoping for a show she did not want to give him.

“Trust me,” Percy growled seductively in her ear as he gently moved her body. She was soon across his lap in a new way, her head down and arse up. Thank Merlin her robes still covered her — until Percy’s Evanesco took the outer robes away. She was still wearing a skirt over her knickers, but it was far shorter than she liked under these circumstances and it wriggled further up her thighs as she squirmed in surprise.

Before she could protest, Percy cut her off by speaking sharply to Marc. “That will be all for now,” he dismissed.

Though Hermione didn’t want to look, she caught the expression of disappointment from their waiter before he left. All she could feel was relief that at least there wouldn’t be a witness. She was brought back to the moment by Percy’s large hand caressing her bum, pushing the skirt up to her waist as he did.

“You will receive five spankings right now with my hand on your covered arse. You will count each one and thank me. Do you understand?” He removed the silencing spell.

“Yes, sir,” she answered, squirming again at her own willingness to go along with this. Suddenly, his hand swished through the air and smacked her, the blow hitting her right arse cheek and leaving a sting behind. Hermione squealed, as much from surprise as pain.

“What do you say?” Percy asked.

“Thank you, sir.”

“And count,” he admonished, bringing his hand down on her left side this time, a little harder.

Gasping from the impact, Hermione squeaked, “One and two, thank you, sir.” She didn’t dare look up at him, especially knowing that her body was responding in a very unexpected way. She squirmed again as he caressed the places he had just hit.

“That’s better,” he told her. The third spank came down across the middle of her arse, lighter than the last one. Hermione couldn’t help but groan a little when it didn’t ignite the same heat inside her.

Pausing before she could even count out, Percy asked, “What color are you, Hermione?”

It took her a moment to realize what he meant. “Green, sir,” she told him. “And that was three. Thank you.”

His hand popped harder on her arse this time, coming down as though he hadn’t even thought about it. “You forgot the ‘sir,’” he told her.

“Four. Thank you, sir,” she gasped. This one had stung more, and stoked the fire inside her. She barely managed not to moan as his hand kneaded her.

Though Hermione expected the final blow to rain down on her, his hand continued caressing her instead. Conversationally, he said, “It’s a shame, darling, that you’re still wearing these knickers. I would love to see my handprint on you.”

Without thinking it through, she invited, “Then get rid of them.”

His hand froze on her backside. “Are you sure that wouldn’t be too much?” he checked.

“Please, sir,” she begged. Hermione wasn’t sure if she was trying to please him or if that heat in her core was driving her.

“Evanesco,” he whispered. Suddenly his hand was on her bare skin and Hermione wanted to push her arse up into his palm. “You are perfect,” he praised as she did just that.

The last spanking came without warning. One moment he was running his fingers over her and the next his hand swished through the air again and came down hard, the hardest yet. Hermione yelped and squirmed, trying to get away from him, but all the while she knew she was growing wetter. She had no idea why she would respond that way to being hurt, but—

“What do you say?” Percy prompted.

“Sorry, sir,” she gasped. “Five. Thank you, sir.”

“That’s my good girl,” he told her. “Your arse looks so nice with my handprint across it. And I love that little tremor in your voice. Do you know what else I love?”

“N-no, sir,” Hermione said. She could feel herself shaking, already needy when he had only given her the smallest praise.

“I love that I have a wet spot on my trousers from your delightful, wet, little pussy.”

He helped her move so that she was upright on his lap again, though now there was nothing between her arse and his trousers, her skirt still bunched around her waist. She went to tug it down and Percy’s hand covered hers. “No, little girl. I want you just like this.”

“But the waiter—” she began.

“Marc is very discreet,” he told her. Then, with a sly grin, he added, “And the boy loves a good show.”

Hermione gasped, even as she knew her pussy was practically gushing at the idea. Before she could think of what to say to change his mind, Percy picked up a fork and offered her a bite of food. She was distracted when the arm around her waist wrapped her a little tighter, giving his hand access to run his fingers through the hair of her mound, teasing down toward her center and then, just once, running a finger all the way down, along her wet slit, and back up.

“So you wanted to discuss your list some more,” he led her. “I think we can safely say you enjoy spanking, and have a bit of an exhibitionist streak.”

“I don’t!” she protested.

“Your wet cunt says otherwise, darling,” Percy rebuked with a laugh. Leaning in to nuzzle her neck, he noted, “I know you’re embarrassed by Marc seeing you like this, but I also know how you’re reacting to it.”

Shuddering at the feel of his breath along her collarbone, Hermione shook her head in denial. “I’m not reacting to that,” she panted. “Just to you.”

Percy blinked at her, then smiled in a way that made him look entirely besotted. Then he switched to a grin that looked downright sinful. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me, but feel free to keep making such claims. I love hearing them from your pretty lips.”

He leaned in and kissed her, her attention drawn entirely to what his tongue was doing to hers until she heard the clatter of silverware and realized that Marc had returned. This time, he was watching them unabashedly and Hermione became intensely aware that her pussy was covered only by Percy’s hand, a fact the waiter had most definitely noticed. When he walked around behind them to pick up a napkin Percy “accidentally” dropped there, she knew he could see the top of Percy’s handprint on her exposed arse, too.

Trying to bury her head in Percy’s chest, she could feel him chuckle before he said, “No sense in pretending you’re bashful now, darling. Marc can see what a naughty girl you really are, and I can feel how much it turns you on for him to see it. You’ll be dripping on the floor before the main course at this rate.”

Her skin heated in embarrassment and she ducked her head further into him, but it didn’t keep her from hearing Marc’s low groan. Percy pulled back from her and used the hand he had been feeding her with to tip her chin up. “Be the good girl I know you are and tell Marc he can take his time.”

She swallowed hard before saying, “Take as much time as you need, Marc.”

“Yes, madam,” he answered. Cheekily, he added, “I believe I will.” With that, he worked on gathering their used items and setting out the new course so slowly Hermione thought he would never leave. She was panting with desire by the time he finally left, and Percy was laughing.

He sobered after a moment and said, “I’m sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean to involve Marc in our evening tonight. I just… even though I’m the one in control, being with you makes everything feel out of control. Like things just happen without me meaning them to. It is… perfect for me, but I’m not sure it is right for you, for us tonight. I could ask for another waiter.”

“No! I don’t… I don’t think this is how I expected the night to go, but I…” she took a deep breath, “honestly, I love it,” Hermione admitted.

Percy’s blue eyes met hers, dancing with happiness. “You’re perfect,” he breathed, then kissed her again. Hermione felt like she was going to float away with happiness as he nibbled at her. The food on the table next to them, though delicious, was entirely forgotten as they devoured one another.

By the time Marc walked back in, Hermione’s blouse was pulled down, one breast out and on display while Percy sucked a line of love bites from just below her ear onto that delicate flesh of her breast.

Clearing his throat, Marc asked, “Would you like some more time for this course, Master Percy?” His eyes were glued to Hermione’s heaving chest as she panted. She felt her skin flush at the hungry look in the man’s eyes.

Percy looked up, still impeccably dressed, but with his pupils blown wide, a look Hermione suspected Marc hadn’t seen on “Master Percy” before, judging from the look of surprise on his face. Somehow, this seemed to have affected the man in a way nothing had before. Hermione noticed a large bulge in his trousers.

Clearing his throat, Percy stated, “As delicious as the food here is, it doesn’t hold a candle to my wife. You can clear this away and bring the next course.”

“Yes, Master Percy,” Marc replied. As he began to take away the dishes from in front of them, Hermione gasped. While she had been distracted watching their waiter, Percy had caught her unaware. Suddenly, instead of being sideways across his lap, her back was to his chest, one leg hooked over each of his.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Percy commanded and she obeyed without a thought.

Marc looked up at the sound of his voice and dropped a plate, barely catching it with a levitation spell before it would have shattered on the floor.

Percy shook his head, “Tsk tsk”, Percy reprimanded him. “If you want entertainment while you work, you’ll need to do a better job than that.”

“Yes, Master Percy,” Marc said. “I’ll do my best.” True to his word, he began very slowly and meticulously caring for each item as she sat there, completely exposed before him. She suspected Percy’s earlier prediction that she would be actively dripping on the floor was coming true at this moment.

Then Percy wrapped his arms around her and weighed her breasts in his hands, one still hidden in her shirt and the other reacting to the feel of his skin against hers. Though her exposed nipple pebbled under his hand, he ignored it, running his hands down her body instead, sliding along her torso until he reached the point where her shirt was still tucked into the skirt that was bunched around her waist.

She could feel his wicked grin against her neck just before he asked Marc, “Do you see the puddle she’s making?”

The man’s eyes slid to the floor beneath her glistening pussy. “I do,” he admitted in a voice that sounded far rougher than earlier.

“Can you imagine how slick these folds must be?” Percy queried as his fingers began to probe in those aforementioned folds, one finger dragging down, then up to swirl around her clit. Hermione whimpered without meaning to. “Hush, darling,” he told her and she tried her best to hold it in, but it was so hard.

Marc took a step forward as she made her muffled noises. Suddenly, Percy’s hand stilled. “No closer,” he demanded. “You may look all you wish, but this pussy is for my touch alone… at least for tonight.” The two men shared a grin again, though both of them looked more like hungry wolves this time.

Hermione shivered with a sense of anticipation as Percy delved a long finger up inside her for the first time tonight. Whispering directly into her ear in a way that felt intimate but was undoubtedly loud enough that Marc could hear too, Percy said, “Go ahead. Give him a show. Make as much noise as you want. Move your body as much as you need to. Just know that you’re not allowed to come without permission.”

“Sir?” she gasped, unable to think enough to figure out what she wanted to ask. There were two fingers plunging into her cunt now, making an embarrassing squelching noise that seemed to fascinate Marc. Knowing that he could hear it, that he was watching this happen, was almost enough to drive her over the edge already.

“You’ll know just how to beg me when the time is right,” Percy told her with a chuckle.

Then he began to play her body like it was a beloved instrument, fine tuning his finger movements until she was nothing but sensation — her nipples, clit, and dripping cunt all overloaded with what he was doing to them. Her hips were rocking forward to meet his thrusting fingers. She was moaning and whimpering.

Marc was watching it all, while still carefully pulling out the next course and arranging the food just so. Through heavy lids, Hermione watched his hand travel down the front of his trousers, rubbing at himself as best he could while trying to stay busy enough not to leave the room.

“Do you want to come?” Percy asked.

“Yes!” Hermione forced out, surprised when Marc said the same thing at the same moment.

Laughing, Percy addressed Marc. “Pull it out for us so we can watch, but keep your come off of us.”

“Percy,” Hermione whined, entirely forgetting herself in her need and the frustration of being ignored. Especially as the man before them had quickly finished his task with the food then stepped closer to them, whipping his trousers down and his cock out of his pants in one swift move. He wasn’t as large as Percy, but Marc was thick and looked good enough that Hermione felt her mouth water. She wanted to taste him, but a sudden pinch to her clit reminded her that what she wanted didn’t matter tonight.

“I’m not Percy here, darling,” he told her, his voice steel, the endearment sounding more like a curse. “You will call me ‘sir’ as you know you should, and you will beg for release. If you come without permission, I will tell Marc to come all over you and we’ll leave immediately thereafter with you still covered.” The man in question groaned at the image, his fist wrapped securely around himself as he began to slowly pump his cock.

“I’m sorry, sir. So sorry,” Hermione managed. “May I come?”

“With such a poor excuse for begging? Of course not,” Percy laughed. As he did, he looked up and met Marc’s eyes. “Would you like something wet to make the slide a little better?”

Hermione held her breath, unable to follow what Percy was getting at now. When Marc stammered, “Yes, Master Percy,” her husband ran his hand through her folds, gathering up her moisture, then reached out to Marc, beckoning him closer.

Percy wrapped his wet hand around Marc’s cock, stroking it three times before abandoning him and moving his hand back to Hermione. Judging from the way Marc looked like he might come just from that, it was probably for the best. “You will hold your come until my slutty wife proves whether she can beg properly or not.”

“Yes, Master Percy,” Marc managed, slowing the motion of his hand as he watched them with a desperate desire in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Percy had redoubled his efforts on her. The three fingers he now had buried in her pussy were curled so that he was stroking just the perfect spot while his thumb rubbed her clit hard enough that she thought it might bruise. It was too much, too intense, too utterly perfect. Hermione was certain she was going to fall apart without a single word slipping past her lips, but somehow she managed, “Please, sir. Please let me come!”

“You can do better than that,” Percy urged. His tone was light and playful, but his hands sped up on her body.

Crying out, unable to stop herself from making more noise even as she somehow held back the avalanche of her orgasm, Hermione begged, “Please may I come, sir? Please, please, please, please.”

With a short, gasping laugh, Percy commanded her, “Come for me now!”

Her whole world shattered in that moment. Hermione screamed as she fell apart, her core exploding, gushing fluid past Percy’s hand as she writhed in his arms. Her vision went white, then black, before she came to again, limp in his arms.

Across from her, braced against the table, Marc grunted as he sprayed come all over his hand and down the front of his trousers. His eyes were unfocused as he tried to get his breathing back under control. It was he who first managed to speak again. “What about you, Master Percy?”

Anger flared through her. “I’ll worry about Master Percy!” she declared.

Pressing his straining bulge against her arse, Percy said, “I love the sound of my name on your tongue, but I’m not Master to you yet.”

Gasping in sudden indignation, Hermione demanded, “And you are to him!?”

Marc was laughing breathlessly. “Only because I’m staff. We’re all to call him that. I’ve only served him a few times before,” he explained, “and never like this. This was special.” His voice was reverent as he stared at the two of them with raw desire on his face despite the evidence of his orgasm still dripping from his spent cock.

“It certainly was,” Percy agreed. “But not special enough for him to touch me. Don’t worry so much, darling.” Looking up at Marc, he ordered, “Clean yourself, then bring us dessert under a stasis charm—”

“But you haven’t had all the courses,” Marc protested.

“We’ll eat this one and have our desserts after we stargaze for a bit. Your services are no longer needed,” Percy dismissed the man. Marc looked disappointed, but did as he was told.

Hermione was still trying to regain any sense of equilibrium or propriety. “We’re going to watch the stars?” she managed to articulate, looking at Percy where his eyes still burned with lust.

“Yes,” he answered simply, not saying anything further until Marc had finished his tasks, bowed to them, and left.

Gently, Percy lifted her off of his lap, waiting until she was steady on her feet before leading her over to a soft, cloudlike section of flooring. “Take off your clothes,” he commanded. It was so abrupt that Hermione almost argued, even in her hazy state. They were still in a public place, after all.

“Yes, sir,” she said after a pause, taking no time to pull her blouse over her head and drop her skirt to the ground. He unfastened her bra for her. When she turned, utterly nude, it was startling to find him still fully dressed. “Do you… should I help you?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Percy decided.

His eyes bore into hers as he placed her trembling hands on the buttons of his shirt. Despite everything they had just shared, it felt strangely intimate as she undressed him. His shirt was soon on the ground and she began to work at his trousers, though they were hard to unfasten with his cock pressing so insistently against the confines of them. When she finally managed it, he sprung out, his cock standing proudly.

“You aren’t wearing pants,” Hermione noted in surprise.

Percy shrugged. “I often don’t. They just get in the way.”

“In the way of what?” she asked, then shook her head, “Nevermind, I think I can guess.” Looking up at him shyly, Hermione was pleased to see a conspiratorial smile on his face.

“I imagine you can,” he told her, stepping in close and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. Hermione felt herself getting wet again at the feel of his hard length pressed between their bodies.

She wanted to press herself closer to him, to tease him with her body, so she did. Percy smiled down at her and then his lips were on hers, both of them gently running their hands over one another until his became insistent. When he suddenly stepped back from her, Hermione was surprised to find that he was the one panting this time.

“You haven’t seen the most impressive part of The Lunar Tower yet,” Percy told her.

“More impressive than your cock?” she quipped, drawing forth an unexpected laugh from his lips.

“Well, maybe not,” he chuckled, “but impressive for a restaurant. Come lay with me.” His hand reached for hers and the two of them moved onto the cloud floor before he pulled up what looked like big, puffy pillows, and he helped her to the ground, placing one under her head.

“What are we—” she started to ask, then looked up. She had almost forgotten they were on the rooftop of a building in the middle of the stars. They were surrounded and it was breathtaking.

She gazed up for long moments before she felt his hand on her arm, pulling her closer. “It’s almost as gorgeous up here as you are,” Percy said. Hermione nearly scoffed, but then caught the look in his eyes and took a sharp breath instead.

He meant it. She couldn’t believe anyone would think that, but she was absolutely certain Percy was sincere about this. “That’s rubbish,” she told him weakly.

“It’s not,” he told her, rolling them suddenly so that she was on top of him, her legs spread over his slim hips, his cock between them again. “You’re going to ride me now, little girl,” he told her.

Hesitating almost too long, Hermione said, “Yes, sir. But are you sure—”

“I’m not sure of anything tonight,” Percy said suddenly, almost urgently. “Nothing about tonight has gone as I planned it. But you’re here with me and there’s nothing else I want more.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” she assured him, planting her lips on his as she worked on lining up his long, thick cock with her slit.

“Yes,” he hissed as she slowly impaled herself. “When I bottom out, you’re not going to move until I say you can,” he commanded, his voice tight.

“Yes, sir,” Hermione answered immediately, her breath caught in anticipation. She had a feeling this would be so much harder than it sounded. And she wanted the challenge. She wanted every challenge he offered her. Staring down at him, she watched as a look of bliss slid over his features and Percy thrust against her once.

“Do you like this?” he asked her. “Being filled with my cock?”

“Yes, sir,” she told him.

“Percy,” he corrected. “Right now you’re so much more than another submissive.”

Her breath caught. “What am I then?” she asked quietly.

“My wife, my partner, my everything,” Percy said, matching each name with a thrust. “Move for me, wife!”

“Yes, Percy!” she cried out as he hit that spot inside her that could so quickly send her crashing into orgasm all over again. Holding out, she managed to pull herself up and drop back onto him twice more before they both exploded.

She felt his cock pumping his spend into her as she shuddered and fell apart above him. Percy grabbed her shoulder, yanking her down so that their lips were locked once more, moaning her name into her mouth as she shuddered against him.

Their kisses slowed into something less intense and more delicate. When they stopped kissing, Hermione collapsed on his chest, thoroughly spent. She listened as his heart gradually slowed, the breeze feeling cooler by the moment. It felt like she should say something, especially as his long fingers began playing in her hair, but she wasn’t sure what to say after all of that. It was so much more than she had anticipated for the evening. So much more emotion, so much more intensity.

“Merlin,” Percy suddenly swore. “I was supposed to talk to you about so many things over dinner.”

Hermione laughed. “We can talk now,” she suggested.

Shaking his head, Percy asked, “Are you on the potion?”

“Yes, I started taking it after we found out Ginny was pregnant,” Hermione reassured him.

“Thank Merlin. I would never forgive myself for forgetting in the moment if it meant you had to go through all of that before you’re ready.”

She was laughing again. “Clearly none of us are capable of remembering in the moment. But that’s why some brilliant witch created the potion.”

“Maybe it was a wizard,” Percy said idly. There was a goofy smile on his face as he continued to play with her curls.

“Who created the potion? Not likely,” she snorted.

“I’ll have you know that many great wizards invented useful potions,” Percy began, pushing his haphazard glasses up his nose. “To this day, wizards are creating—” he cut himself off with a short laugh. “Sorry, there’s pompous Percy making himself known.”

This time it was Hermione who began running her fingers through his hair. “I like that Percy. I love knowledge, even when it’s perfectly clear that a witch would have—”

She cut off with a squeal as his fingers dug lightly into her sides, tickling her and making her roll off his body in her efforts to get away. He immediately stopped tickling her and gathered her back into his arms. “You can’t get away from me that easily, witch,” he proclaimed.

“Good,” she said in response, nuzzling into his neck. Hermione felt languid and playful, the evening bathed in soft adoration of one another. She had been nervous before about how her time with Percy would go, but it had been exhilarating, incredibly sexy, and soft and loving, too. He was certainly full of surprises. “We’ve still never finished going over my list,” she pointed out.

Percy smiled at her. “I think we’ve had a good start. And maybe you know enough now to fill it out for me?”

“I think I could do that, though I may have some questions along the way,” Hermione said, somehow still finding the capability to blush.

“And I will always be happy to answer them,” he assured her.

Staring up at the stars, Hermione sighed contentedly. It was several long moments before reality filtered back in. “Percy, we’re lying here naked and Marc could be back anytime. Or they could kick us out for the next person or—”

“They don’t kick people out here. And Marc was dismissed. He won’t return unless we ring for him. Are you tired?” he asked.

“Exhausted,” she admitted. “It’s been a long day.”

“Then let’s get you home, darling.”

Gently, Percy redressed her — all except her knickers which he cheekily told her she didn’t get back. After he settled her at the table with the tray of dessert samples, he got dressed himself, then sat next to her. This time they fed each other tidbits, and kissed chocolate dribbles from one another’s mouths after. They laughed and talked until the food was gone, then he helped her into her dignified outer robes and rang the bell.

Marc appeared, looking pleased to have been called back, then slightly disappointed at the sight of them. Percy leaned in, saying something very quietly and dropping a handful of galleons into Marc’s hand. Hermione hoped that meant the man would stay quiet about all that had happened here.

The two of them strode from the room arm in arm, down the long staircase that shortened the trip for them, and on to Percy’s flat where they fell blissfully asleep in one another’s arms.

Chapter 39

Notes:

Surprise! Bet you weren't expecting this anytime soon!

Shhhh... I have a secret... this is the only story my muse is working for lately so I'm actually a couple of chapters ahead. It is KILLING me not to post them all at once, but I am slowly learning it's useful to the continuity to hold off long enough to confirm that I'm not making things difficult for myself a couple of chapters down the road. But it's SO HARD to wait!

Thank you so much to my amazing team, and sorry if any of you weren't ready for me to post yet. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, yeah?

Okay, gonna post now before I talk myself into being good and waiting. heehee

For thoughts on Percy's behavior last chapter, especially if you were upset by it, please check the end notes.

The first light was just beginning to pink the sky when Charlie saw the dots on the horizon. They were later than he would have liked. Diagon Alley would be waking up before he and the team got them fully into the open dome of Gringotts. Thank Merlin for the goblin’s ingenuity and the way they had re-engineered it so that any future escapes would open the dome rather than shatter it.

Not that they would need to escape. Charlie was confident his dragons would be content with guarding a hoard and flying in their private meadow. He was even planning to let them hunt once they were settled. The goblins had so far been very accommodating about it, liking how much money it would save them.

As he contemplated the things he would be doing, those dots got closer, and larger. Below his perch on the roof, Charlie could see movement here and there. A witch bustled across the alley toward Flourish and Blotts, probably the shopkeep for the day. Lights came on inside Eeylops Owl Emporium — feeding time, he was sure. A cloaked figure slinked out from between the ice cream shop and the building next to it and disappeared into Knockturn Alley. He smiled fondly when he saw the lights come on in the twins’ flat.

Then he glanced to the side, down into Gringotts where there were goblins everywhere, going about their business and occasionally glancing nervously up at the open dome. They clearly didn’t like it, though he wasn’t sure if the issue was the security risk it represented or the fact that dragons would be flying through soon enough.

Very soon, in fact. The dragons were large in the sky now, and Charlie could see the dots beside them that were his friends and fellow handlers on their brooms. He grabbed his own, thrilled that they were close enough he could fly out to meet them.

“Oi, Red!” Florin called out as soon as Charlie was close enough to hear him. “You have everything prepared?”

“Of course,” he answered, not a bit offended since he knew it was his friend’s job to ensure the dragons would be well handled. And with Charlie gone, Azara and Dahrian would have been Florin’s to care for. He had undoubtedly gotten all the more attached. They were a lovable pair, after all.

Bringing the pair swooping into Diagon Alley and into the top of the bank took everyone’s concentration for the next few minutes. It was even more delicate work for Charlie to cajole first Azara and then Dahrian into the meadow world that had been prepared for them. After much deliberation, it had been decided that they should enter the “cave” on their own instead of traveling down through the goblins’ tunnels.

Once inside, Charlie sealed off the entrance, shrinking it to the size of the door he would use to enter and leave from this point forward. He could always enlarge it if they needed to remove dragons for some reason. He had a hunch that Dahrian was going to become quite amorous once he had a hoard to take pride in. And everyone knew how broody Azara had been for ages now.

“This place is impressive,” Darrick commented, looking around. “And it’s all magically made?”

“It is, sort of. It’s like a pocket of another place, a copy of somewhere in the Himalayas. I don’t completely understand the mechanics, but Fleur and Hermione were amazing at creating just what we needed and Bill has it warded to the point that nothing aiming to harm the dragons can get in and they aren’t in danger of getting out unless they need to guard the vaults,” Charlie explained.

“It’s just as good as you promised, lad,” Florin said, clapping him on the back before pulling him into a hug. “We miss you at the Sanctuary. Calla’s going mad without you. Come for a visit soon, mate?”

“I’ll do my best,” Charlie agreed, though he wasn’t sure when they could arrange that. Maybe after the ritual tomorrow night it would be easier. A visit to Romania would certainly give them an answer on that, one way or another. “But let’s not talk of that yet, you’ve only just arrived.”

“We can’t stay long,” Rolf said, joining the conversation. He had a young handler on each side, rounding out the team. Charlie barely remembered them, but he was glad to see the one named Cezar — it was the boy he had jumped in front of Gus to save.

“What’s happening?” Charlie asked automatically, itching to jump into action.

Florin shook his head. “Same thing that always happens this time of year, except we’ve had a baby boom. Nine clutches in the incubation room right now plus at least three nesting Mums that we’ve found.”

Charlie gave a low whistle. That was a lot at once. “Are you staying the night, at least?” he asked. “That was a long flight.”

“It was. Dahrian didn’t like the way we were guiding them, or the invisibility spell. Spooked him a bit,” Florin noted. “We’ll stay ‘til after lunch, then we need to head back.”

“We could probably get you all portkeys if you’d rather,” Charlie suggested hopefully. It would allow them to stay longer.

Darrick shuddered. “You know better than that, mate. We’ll all be happier in the air.”

“Besides, we’ve all heard you moaning and crying about how bad all the stops are from here to there,” Florin laughed.

Just then, Rolf shushed them all. “They’ve found the cave.”

Charlie whirled to look, watching pensively as Dahrian entered and roared. He was sure the goblins inside thought the dragon was angry, but Charlie recognized that sound of happiness. When Azara joined her mate, it was clear they were both delighted. Using his door, Charlie led the dragon handlers into the maze of tunnels so that they could check on the dragons from inside as well.

What they found pleased all of them. Rolf was nodding. “My grandfather would be proud,” he told Charlie. “This is a good environment for them and the goblins won’t put another creature through the torture they did that other poor beast.”

They all nodded sadly. The Ironbelly had been located and secured back at the Sanctuary, but the poor thing would be in the infirmary for the rest of his life, most likely. It was only Charlie’s involvement in this project that had convinced Mikal that the goblins could be trusted not to ruin another dragon.

Dahrian and Azara were feasting on the meat he had left out for them, making them see the inside of the bank as even more “their” place. He would feed them here periodically, but he had already talked to the goblins about releasing live creatures in the dragons’ meadow. They had agreed happily, since the live creatures were more cost effective than buying enough meat for the dragons to eat.

Charlie nodded to the goblins, all of whom were doing their best not to look terrified as they gazed down from a ledge above. He didn’t love working with them, and he knew he would be seeing a lot of them over the years; whatever it took to keep the dragons in his life.

When Florin, Rolf, and the other handlers were content with how the two were settled in, they all headed up and out of the bank through the tunnels. Charlie didn’t want to emphasize the point that the meadow was technically a breach in the goblins’ security. It came with intense wards and two very persuasive deterrents, but it was still technically a new way into the most secure vaults.

“How is your wife?” Florin asked as they walked through a ward that Charlie knew was scanning them all for stolen objects.

Smiling what he knew was a goofy grin, Charlie said, “Hermione’s wonderful. Just busy with all this Wizengamot nonsense. She’s going to change the world.”

“Well we know she rocked yours,” Darrick snickered. Florin smacked him lightly and Darrick chuckled in return before snatching his lover’s hand and kissing it. “Like you’ve rocked mine,” he added.

Florin rolled his eyes. “We’ve learned more about Hermione Granger since you were there. I think it’s safe to say we all believe she will change the world for the better. You just make sure to be there to take care of her.”

“You know I will be,” Charlie vowed.

“Now, let’s hear what else you’ve been up to…” Florin led the conversation as they all trooped into The Leaky Cauldron for breakfast.

After this, Charlie would take them to the twins’ shop, and show them around Diagon. Maybe they’d go somewhere muggle for lunch. Hopefully Hermione could join them for it. He knew she would hate to miss them entirely. But that was the downside to changing the world, he supposed.

********

Walking into the Wizengamot this morning had been a much more pleasant experience than she had expected. Despite their play last night and this morning, Percy had taken such tender care of her and applied his cream liberally enough that she wasn’t sore at all. Well, she amended as she sat on the hard wooden Black Seat, all except her arse. He had told her that punishments were typically left as a reminder.

It was a reminder she found herself enjoying as she thought about how he had spanked her and everything that followed. Hermione hadn’t been sure about what the book termed “impact play” but now she hoped they would explore it more. She hadn’t expected to be so excited by someone watching her either, but Merlin, even thinking about it now made her squirm.

The sweet, loving sex they had this morning was great, too — of course it was. But it didn’t arouse her the way thoughts of the night before did. She wasn’t sure why when she didn’t think she would want the same thing with the others, but there was just something about Percy.

The only thing that had confused her was Percy’s profuse apology this morning. When she had told him it was fine, he had shaken his head. It had taken some arguing on her part before he gave it up, saying they would discuss it more next time and promised he would show her what proper behavior and respect of boundaries should have looked like.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she thought about the argument. Yes, he had pushed her past what she thought she wanted, but everytime she thought about the waiter’s wide eyes watching her, she got turned on again. She wondered what it would feel like to be watched by someone else — what if Ginny or one of the boys watched her while Percy commanded her? Merlin, she was distracted.

Trying to pull her mind out of the gutter, she focused on the person they were leading into the accused’s seat. When she realized who it was, Hermione put all thoughts of sex aside.

Dolores Umbridge sat in the chair at the center of the Wizengamot chamber, but she looked just as smug as ever. Her left eye did twitch a bit whenever she saw Hermione and Harry, but then she looked away and went back to simpering and smiling.

Soon, the hag was explaining why she wasn’t to blame for any of the supposed crimes she had committed. She was only following the laws of the time, after all. How was she to judge what was an evil regime when the laws made so much sense? Hermione had to hold in an actual growl at that statement. She saw many others straining in their seats as well.

“This is true,” Lord Fitz agreed loudly, speaking out of turn. “We can hardly sentence people to Azkaban for following laws, no matter how they may have been influenced by the Dark Lord when they were passed. They’re still the laws today if you recall, even if we’re not enforcing them any longer.”

Umbridge giggled. She didn’t seem to understand the danger she was in with so many present who knew what she had done at Hogwarts.

“Which is why,” Harry said, standing before Hermione could catch his hand, “it is so important that we work on the current laws before finishing these trials.” There were calls of agreement from all the younger members of the Wizengamot, their angry gazes locked on Umbridge. “Fortunately, those aren’t her only crimes,” he continued. “When she was acting as the Hogwarts High Inquisitor, Dolores Umbridge used blood quills on students in detention. That was and still is illegal.”

There was a collective gasp from those who hadn’t known. Then Lord Blotts spoke up. “What proof do you have?”

“I still have the scar across the back of my hand,” Harry announced, drawing another gasp.

“You could have done that to yourself,” Umbridge suggested from the floor, though she looked almost excited by the prospect that he was permanently marred.

Fred stood. “I have memories I can submit that say otherwise.”

“And I,” Seamus declared.

“Me too,” said Lee Jordan.

All the members of the DA were soon standing, in support and agreement, some with scars of their own to show. Hermione didn’t have any scars to prove Harry right, but she stood anyway, adding her voice to the others. Umbridge was not escaping justice.

“Submit this evidence then, and let’s get on with it,” Lady Burke growled.

The process was time-consuming, but it only took three people — Harry, Fred, and Seamus — to have everyone convinced. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when Lord Selwyn stood and declared any further evidence unnecessary, asking for a vote.

“What will the sentence be?” Lord Fitz demanded.

“Life in Azkaban for far too many counts of abuse to children entrusted to her care,” Bill suggested. He sounded furious and Hermione realized this was something he may not have known about.

“Well, I don’t know about ‘child abuse,’” Lord Lee said, “but there are many counts of using an illegal blood quill.”

“How can you say it’s not child abuse?” Hermione burst out, unable to contain her fury.

“It is clearly abuse,” Lady Alva agreed, looking angry. “What they mean is that there is nothing illegal about abusing children in our world.”

Hermione felt herself fall back in her seat, stunned.

Harry was standing now, glaring at Umbridge, who was smirking at him. “It should be,” he declared. “It will be.”

“Yes, yes. Someday, when you can pass your pet law,” Lord Greengrass said dismissively. “For now, we work within the current laws. So I call for a vote on the illegal use of the blood quills. As a matter of fact, my daughter Astoria had detention with this… witch once.”

The vote was nearly unanimous, much to the clear shock of the toad. She was still screeching, “You can’t do this to me!” as they dragged her out of the courtroom for her trip to Azkaban. She would be there for the rest of her life, as she should be.

It bothered Hermione that they hadn’t considered the quills child abuse, or that Umbridge hadn’t also been found guilty of the crimes she committed against muggleborns or in having a piece of Voldemort’s soul that she cherished, but the witch was right that those things had been — and still were — perfectly legal at the time. They had to change those laws. If only there were a way to force the Wizengamot’s hand.

**********

Again, Harry was furious as he went to get some kind of lunch. It seemed like this was just going to be his permanent state as long as he had to deal with the Wizengamot. Perhaps it would be better to name a proxy and be done with it. Taking a steadying breath, Harry knew he wouldn’t do that. He was going to make a difference here, no matter what the older generations had planned.

His emotions were so high that the thought of eating left him nauseous, but he knew he would make himself truly sick if he didn’t eat. Harry wished Hermione were with him to help calm him down, but she had hurried out of the Wizengamot chambers to meet Charlie and his friends from the Romanian Sanctuary for lunch. Ron and Millie had gone with her as her Auror escorts.

Trying to act normal, Harry moved toward the buffet, stumbling slightly as his vision began to blur. Merlin, not again. Suddenly, there was an arm slung around his waist. A voice he didn’t recognize was coaching softly, “Breathe in 1-2-3-4-5. Breathe out 1-2-3-4-5.”

Without knowing why he did it, Harry focused on the words, on the actions the person was setting out for him, and let go of the emotions he had been holding. Breathing deeply, his vision cleared.

Standing next to him, literally holding him up, was Theo Nott. “What are you doing here?” Harry asked, almost a reflex as he stared into the other boy’s face. He was watching so closely that he saw the momentary flicker of hurt before Theo covered it behind an emotionless pureblood mask.

“You seemed in need of assistance and I owe you for my life,” Theo explained.

“No, I meant—” Harry cut himself off as he ran a hand through his hair. “Well I guess I did mean why would you help me, but—”

“We don’t have much time,” Theo told him quietly as he helped Harry balance back on his own feet before withdrawing his arm.

“Time for what?” Harry asked, bewildered. He was once again drawn into the sapphire blue eyes before him, barely acknowledging their owner’s urgent whisper.

“Look up — better yet — tell Hermione to look up the Law of Rights. It will be in the records of the Warlocks’ Convention in 1707, the year the Ministry was established.”

Harry felt stunned, but he knew this had to be important. “Law of Rights,” he repeated. “But Theo…” He trailed off, feeling silly.

This wasn’t important right now. He knew he should be focused on the words Theo had just slipped him, but what Harry blurted out was what he really wanted to know at this moment. “How do you still have a seat on the Wizengamot when all the other Death Eater families lost theirs?”

Before he could speak, Kingsley appeared next to them. “Theo was assisting the Order,” he murmured, just loud enough that Harry could hear.

Blinking, Harry asked, “Then why aren’t we celebrating him?”

“Because it would be a death sentence for me if the Dark Houses knew that I was involved in Voldemort’s downfall,” Theo whispered.

“Oh,” Harry said simply. Turning to Kingsley, he asked, “Would he really be in more danger than Ron, Hermione, and I? The Weasleys in general? Andromeda and Teddy?”

“I’m not granted an Auror escort. And most of the Death Eaters at large have access to my Manor,” Theo whispered, filling a plate to look busy. “There are Aurors monitoring the wards there to capture them if they show up, but I could easily be dead by the time they respond. I’m not exactly their top priority since they still don’t trust me.”

Kingsley placed a hand on Theo’s shoulder and squeezed in a fatherly way before he loudly said, “That’s enough, Nott.” Anyone watching them would think that he was separating Theo away from Harry. Theo looked properly annoyed and stormed away with his plate of food.

“It’s important we keep up appearances,” Kingsley told Harry quietly, smiling broadly and then shooting Theo a dirty look. “Now eat something. Minerva and Poppy will have my hide if I let you pass out again.”

“You hardly have control of—”

“As if that will bother them any,” Kingsley said, his laughter booming through the room.

Harry found himself laughing along, then he noticed Bill signaling him from across the room where he was standing in a cluster with Fred, Seamus, Bee, and Joe. “Excuse me, Kings,” he said before heading toward the group with the full plate Kingsley shoved at him.

“What was that Slytherin git doing to you?” Seamus asked.

Checking for people who might be listening, Harry whispered Hermione’s spell, “Muffliato mundanarum circumdatos” before saying aloud, “He was talking me down from another bloody panic attack.”

Bee looked worried. “Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.

Confused, Harry answered, “Well it’s kind of complicated. Gin and I—”

“No, no,” she hastily interrupted. “I meant, are you seeing a therapist?”

“Oh,” Harry responded, flushing. He hated that he needed one, but he was well aware it was an actual need. “I haven’t yet, but I have my first appointment this evening, actually.”

“Good!” Bee gushed. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed by, Lord Potter. Everyone is worthy of an unbiased, safe, and productive opportunity to process experiences, and, forgive me for saying so, but just what I know of your life leads me to believe you have more experiences than most that might need to be processed.”

Ducking his head and trying to nod at the same time, Harry wasn’t sure what to say. Honestly, he was anxious about the appointment, but he knew he needed help. He just had no idea what it would be like and where they would start.

He couldn’t think about it right now. He needed to focus on other things. Lowering his voice, he asked, “Have any of you ever heard of the Law of Rights?” Bee gave him a look for changing the subject, but she shook her head no.

Bill looked contemplative. “It rings a bell, but I don’t know what it is,” he finally said as the others agreed they didn’t know.

“So what is it?” Joe asked.

Shrugging, Harry admitted, “I don’t know. I was hoping one of you might. Theo said we should research it, that Hermione specifically should, but I don’t know if that’s just because she’s the best researcher or if it was some kind of clue.”

“We could ask Emily,” Bee suggested. “If she doesn’t know about it yet, she’ll find out.”

“No,” Harry decided. “I feel like this is something Mione and I have to do.” He couldn’t stop the others from looking it up now that he had mentioned it, but he knew he and Hermione needed to find it and figure out how it would help them.

Of course, he had no idea when he would even have time to discuss it with her, much less when they could do the actual research, but Harry was determined. For now, he focused on his food. He didn’t want it, but he had to eat and regain his strength.

*********

George sighed as he tried the transfiguration again. Something about his incantation was off, making the spoon turn into a ladle instead of a fork like he was trying for. He knew Fred wouldn’t be much help with transfiguration either, but he missed having his twin there to laugh with him each time it went wrong.

To his surprise, there was a laugh behind him anyway. Whirling around with his wand drawn, George was relieved to see it was just Ginny standing there. “Your face says that’s not right. What are you trying to turn it into?” she asked curiously, politely ignoring the wand still clutched in his hand. They were all jumpy these days.

“My face says you nearly scared me to death, sister dear.”

Grinning, Ginny said, “But you’re still struggling with that transfiguration.”

With a sigh, George nodded. “It’s supposed to turn into a fork when it touches liquid. But the bloody stupid thing keeps turning into a ladle.”

She laughed again, then did his incantation, adding an extra swoop to her wand movement and the spoon switched to a fork. “The charm work for making it do that when you want it to is all for you to figure out, but I can help with this part.” She waved her wand and it turned back into a spoon. “You try.”

“I can’t believe you just did that,” George said, still feeling stunned. He shook his head and followed the pattern she had shown him, smiling when it finally turned into a fork. “Who knew you were a Transfiguration prodigy?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I don’t have to be a prodigy to be better at it than you.”

“Oi!” George protested. “I’ll have you know we’ve studied hard—”

“To still be beaten by your baby sister,” Ginny smirked.

“Transfiguration was never a strong point for Freddie or I,” he grudgingly admitted.

She shrugged. “Hermione helped me a lot in second year. She was probably just trying to help me get over everything that happened the year before, but…” she trailed off, her eyes going distant for a moment. George knew she had never really dealt with all that. Just another thing they could use that Mind Healer stuff for. Shaking her head, Ginny continued, “Anyway, I think it really helped me grasp the basics of Transfiguration better than I would have alone.”

“Well, it’s Hermione, so that makes sense,” George said, feeling a little less ridiculous for having needed her help.

“But I would still be good at it by myself,” she insisted.

“Of course,” he agreed, though he was deep in his head by now, mentally working on the charmwork he needed to perform on the spoon. It clattered to the table and then off onto the floor when Ginny nudged him. “What was that for?”

“You weren’t paying attention anymore,” she said, pouting a bit.

“Did you have something important to say?” he grunted as he leaned down to pick up the spoon.

Pausing, Ginny asked, “You’re not really handling all this separation from Fred very well, are you?”

“I’ll be fine,” George told her. “It’s only been a couple of days.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be a lot longer. And it’s him and Hermione,” she pressed.

George set the spoon back on the table and heaved a sigh. She was right. He wasn’t used to operating without Fred nearby for days on end. It was already getting to him. Based on the night before, it might be causing more nightmares, too, devilish dreams of what life would have been like without his twin. He shuddered without meaning to.

A small freckled hand came down on his. “Let me work with you while he’s gone.”

“Every day?” George asked. “That’s a lot of commitment. Some days you may not feel up to it.”

“We’ll worry about that when it happens. So far I’m not feeling too bad,” she argued.

“What if Mum comes in like she did on opening day?” he asked.

“Then I deal with her,” Ginny said, looking serious. George knew quite well that his sister wasn’t one to be trifled with, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to protect her. “But I won’t really have to since I’ll be back here.”

“Wait. You want to work here in the backroom with me?”

“Yes.” She looked at him like he was dense.

“But some of the ingredients might not be safe in your condition,” George argued. “And sometimes there are explosions.”

She rolled her eyes again. “I can work on stocking things that are safe or consulting on spellwork like this. If you think explosions might happen, I’ll go out on the floor for a while or work the till.”

Thinking for a moment, George didn’t have a good excuse not to let her. And Merlin knew he needed the company. “Fine. I’ll officially consider you an employee here, but you have to promise to listen if I tell you to get out. And you have to come get me if there’s any trouble with Mum or anyone else.”

“Of course, my favorite big brother!”

George snorted. “Don’t pull that tripe. We all know Charlie’s your favorite.”

They laughed together and George had to admit he already felt better.

***************

Everyone looked very serious when Pius Thicknesse was led into the chamber. They all knew he had been Imperiused, but equally so, he had committed some atrocious crimes while under that influence, including fighting with the Death Eaters in the Battle of Hogwarts. Fred had a feeling that the Wizengamot was likely to be divided about his fate.

For himself, he knew the man didn’t deserve Azkaban but Fred wished he would end up there anyway. In fairness, he should probably just be sentenced to a detox period in St. Mungo’s and then house arrest, but it didn’t feel like enough for having Colin Creevey’s death on his hands. He knew there were plenty of others who felt the same, especially amongst the members of Dumbledore’s Army.

Percy read the long list of his charges and asked how the man pleaded. As expected, he claimed he was not guilty due to the Imperius curse.

Lady Thicknesse’s wand tip lit and she stood up. “It is referenced in the evidence that Healers found him to be still under the influence of an Imperius with Rabastan Lestrange’s magical signature when he was captured after the battle.”

Kingsley stood and said, “Lady Thicknesse, I’m afraid I was remiss in leaving you in the chamber today. Due to—”

“She is a sitting Wizengamot member, is she not?” Lord Greengrass protested. “And she only presented the same information a number of us intended to draw attention to.”

“While this is true,” Kingsley began before being cut off once again.

“Further, the information presented proves that Pius Thicknesse is innocent,” Lord Blotts proclaimed.

“He murdered a child!” Dean cried, standing so quickly his robes caught the wind of his movement and billowed around him like Snape’s once had.

“He was under the Imperius,” Lady Burke said dismissively. “He should be freed.”

Fred felt a surge of rage swell inside him and he wondered if it was his own or Hermione’s. Both together, he suspected. “Absolutely not,” she declared, her wand tip glowing brightly with indignation.

“He should be in Azkaban,” Seamus offered.

“I concur,” Lord Johnson agreed. From the look on his face, Fred knew he must be thinking of Angelina and comparing her death to Colin’s.

“That’s preposterous,” Lord McLaggen argued. “No one should be held accountable for the things that happen to them under the Imperius.”

“But these aren’t things that happened to Pius Thicknesse, they’re things that happened to others, to young Colin Creevey and to the whole of the magical world,” Lady Marchbanks spoke up. Fred was relieved that at least someone among the old guard understood the problem.

“You’ve always used this same tired argument,” Lord Diggory said angrily. “I lost my boy, but I’m not blaming it on anyone but the bloody Dark Lord.”

“Cedric didn’t die by the hands of someone under the Imperius,” Lady Wood observed. “I’m not sure how the comparison is relevant.”

“He should be in Azkaban,” Lee said angrily.

The entire Wizengamot erupted in angry words back and forth until it sounded like a bee hive of anger. Fred shook his head. This wasn’t helping. To his own surprise, Fred lit his wand with a Lumos Maxima for attention and stood. “Perhaps a compromise — some time under observation at St. Mungo’s to ensure his mind is clear again, then house arrest.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, but as the murmuring began, it had a different feel, a different tone. This was lighter, more positive, and held a trace of awe toward Fred himself. He would have been amused, but the subject was too serious.

“How long would he remain under house arrest?” Lady Brown asked hesitantly, beginning the conversation. Fred could barely follow as everyone debated back and forth, but in the end, they determined that he would stay under observation for two weeks before a house arrest of five years.

“That was amazing! Your suggestion was perfect, and just at the right moment,” Hermione gushed as they walked up to the office of House Weasley after the session wrapped.

She stopped him with a hand on his chest and Fred was certain they were about to kiss when Harry called up the hall, “Hermione, wait up!”

With a little huff of irritation, she stopped and turned back to her friend. “What’s wrong?” Her hand was still warm against Fred’s chest.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Harry said. “But I’ve got a lead on something that might be really good. We just need to do some research before tomorrow.”

“Before tomorrow?” Fred squawked. Groaning, he added, “We have plans tonight — and they already have to be pushed off until after the family meeting.”

“I’m sorry, Fred,” Harry apologized, “but I’m certain this is important.”

“You don’t know?” Fred asked.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, but nodded. “I have a feeling. Nott told me—”

“Hush, not out here in the hall. Let’s go in the office,” Hermione suggested, moving her hand off of Fred to turn the knob.

“Can’t right now,” Harry said. “I have, well, therapy and—”

“Oh, Harry! That’s wonderful!” she responded.

“Yes, but it means I have to go,” he said urgently. “I’m going to try to make the meeting, then we have to look into the Law of Rights. Please, Hermione.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we have to find out.”

“Of course, Harry,” Hermione agreed. “I’ll see what I can find out about it before the meeting.”

“Hermione,” Fred whined, despite just having made a vow to himself that he wouldn’t let her know how much this bothered him, “We had plans for you before the meeting.”

She looked at him, exasperated, then her eyes softened. “We’ll have time together tonight, Fred. Please, this sounds important.”

“Why do we just assume everything Harry needs is important?” he asked sullenly.

“Because he’s the Chosen One,” she quipped with a shrug and a grin before shaking her head. “I’ve just learned over the years to go with it when he has a hunch.”

Fred sighed. She wasn’t wrong, and he didn’t want to push her away with his jealousy. “Then maybe Georgie and I can help you research so it goes faster.”

“Would you?” she beamed at him.

“Of course,” Fred answered, feeling her relief and elation in his own chest. “Anything for you, love.”

************

Bill waited impatiently for Hermione to appear with the twins. He wasn’t sure where they had disappeared to since he had already checked the flat, the shop, and all the family’s offices in the DMLE. He knew they were aware of the meeting, but apparently Fred and George thought it was okay to keep their wife too busy to think of coming back on time.

It irritated him that his younger brothers were still so irresponsible despite everything and he said so.

“Have you checked for them at Grimmauld?” Ginny asked.

“No, I hadn’t considered they might be there,” he admitted.

She rolled her eyes at Bill as he headed for the floo. When he arrived at Grimmauld Place, no one answered his calls. He was about to leave when he heard a scrape on the floor upstairs. He didn’t want to think about the twins scooting a bed across the floor with Hermione from the sheer force of their lovemaking, but at least it gave him an indication that they were here.

Striding up the stairs, he was surprised to realize the sound was coming from the library on the second floor rather than any of the bedrooms. Then again, where better to seduce Hermione than a library?

When he threw open the door, Bill found a sight he hadn’t been expecting. Hermione and George were studiously devouring books, taking notes, while Fred scooted a chair back and forth, pulling more tomes from the higher shelves.

“What are you doing?” Bill demanded, nearly scaring Fred into falling off his chair.

“Bill, you won’t believe what we’ve found!” Hermione began. “Harry told us to research the Law of Rights. Do you know it?”

He shook his head. He had heard of it, and Harry had mentioned it during lunch. It was something ancient, powerful, and entirely slipping his mind on specifics.

“Come here and let me tell you about it,” Hermione beckoned. And he followed. He would always follow her.

*********

For once, Ron arrived before a meeting started. It seemed Bill, Hermione, and the twins had gone missing at Grimmauld Place and Harry was at an appointment. Ron breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t missed anything.

He had been certain he would after Millie caused them to have to run extra laps. A tiny voice in the back of his head pointed out that he was as much at fault as she was, but Ron shoved it away. She wasn’t as bad as he had expected at first, but the witch still wouldn’t back down and admit that most Slytherins were Death Eaters. It was what today’s fight had been about. Again.

Shaking his head, Ron focused his energy on the family that was here. Ginny was rolling her eyes at something Percy was telling Charlie. Fleur was bringing in food, thank Merlin. He considered jumping into whatever the others were talking about but ultimately decided that Fleur might need his help more.

“Can I bring anything in for you?” he asked.

“Always zinking with your stomach, Ronald,” Fleur said with an amused smile. “You can go get ze roast. Eet eez your mum’s recipe, but not as good as ‘ers.”

Ron noticed the frown line between Fleur’s eyes and wondered if Mum had purposefully given her an altered recipe. He wanted to think that wasn’t something she would do, but he knew it was. With a sigh, he went to fetch the roast.

While he was in the other room, he heard calls of “Harry!” and hurried back to Shell Cottage’s small dining area with the roast. His best mate was looking pale and shaken, but Harry was trying to smile at everyone. It just happened to look more like a grimace.

Setting the roast carefully in the center where Fleur indicated he should, Ron was soon by Harry’s side, thumping him on the back. “Do you need a minute? I can make a distraction,” Ron whispered.

“I’ll survive,” Harry told him, still grimacing.

Ron started to protest, but it was at that moment that the floo activated again and Bill, Hermione, and the twins all came through looking exhilarated. “Harry!” Hermione cried at once, “You won’t believe what we’ve found!”

“About the Law of Rights?” Harry questioned.

“Yes!” Hermione said excitedly, clutching an ancient-looking book in front of herself. “It’s all right here. I didn’t understand, at first, how it would help us, but this is going to allow us to pause the trials and focus on the laws that need to be passed.”

“What?” Harry asked. “How?”

“The Law of Rights was established when the Ministry was created, one of the founding rules of changing from the Wizard’s Council to the Wizengamot,” she explained. Ron could tell Harry was going spare waiting for her to get to the point, but there was no rushing Hermione when she got like this.

Fred, however, was just as impatient as Harry, cutting in over Hermione. “The Law of Rights states that the Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot must at all times be granted their full rights — to have their basic needs met; their ancestral homes, titles, and other properties untaxed; and to have their comings and goings in magic without government oversight.”

Hermione shot an exasperated look in Fred’s direction, but then turned back to Harry, beaming. “Do you see what this means, Harry?”

“Er… we have some obscure old rights?”

“That can be invoked to pass the laws we need and revoke the ones we need to get rid of!” she cried jubilantly.

“I still don’t understand,” Harry told her.

“Me either, mate,” Ron joined in supportively.

Bill was laughing. “Settle down, little love,” he told Hermione. “Let’s see if I can explain it better. The bit about having their basic needs met — it’s stated as “for their whole life,” which they undoubtedly meant until they died, but you can use it retroactively to claim that your rights weren’t met and you need a law on the books to ensure it doesn’t happen to another orphan. Or we could claim it for Teddy Lupin, who will eventually take the Lupin seat. Either way, the law helps.”

Jumping in, Fred said, “It can also be used to get rid of the muggleborn registration law because of the part about not being tracked by the government.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “How does it work?”

“Let me explain,” Hermione said, drawing him aside. Ron had an urge to listen in, but he could tell it was getting very technical very fast. Better to just hear about how they applied it once it was done tomorrow. He knew they would make it happen immediately.

Instead, he brought his focus back to dinner and his siblings surrounding the table. Charlie, Bill, and the twins were already digging in, all of them reassuring Fleur it was delicious. Ron hoped it really was. The first bite practically melted on his tongue and he saw a smug look cross Fleur’s face. It wasn’t just like Mum would have made it. There was something small about the flavor missing, but in a lot of ways, it was better.

“Marvelous,” Ron managed between bites, raising his glass to the chef and making her flush with pleasure. He rarely had that effect on Fleur and found it refreshing that she reacted that way now.

Harry and Hermione finally returned to the table, Harry’s grimace finally gone and replaced with a grin. They both plopped into seats on either side of him and Ron grinned back, thrilled to have the two of them with him. He needed to request trio time tonight.

As everyone finished eating, Bill coughed and raised his wand in the air with a Lumos to gain their attention. This Wizengamot stuff might be going to his head. Then again, perhaps it was just a good visual way to quiet everyone down.

“We have quite a few things to talk about tonight,” he began. “The main topics are the house and the schedule.”

“Have we found a house then?” Ginny asked with a pout.

Ron knew, as everyone did, how disgruntled she was about not being included last time. As far as he was concerned, if everyone else was a fan, he didn’t care what their house was like as long as he had a room with a comfortable bed.

“There’s one we would like the rest of you to see,” Charlie said.

“Or we could keep searching,” Fred suggested. “It’s far from perfect.”

“It’s a fixer-upper, for sure,” George admitted, “but it has a lot of potential, and Hermione likes it.”

“We can keep searching if that’s what everyone decides,” Charlie agreed, “but we think this one is good enough that everyone should take a look.”

“‘Ow soon can we see eet?” Fleur asked.

“I would say tomorrow, but we have the ritual,” George told her.

“Perhaps on Friday?” Percy suggested.

Bill looked around the table. “Does that work for everyone? I would like for all of us to be there, even the ones who’ve seen it before.”

“As long as it’s after I get off training,” Ron spoke up. He didn’t much care about the house they picked, but he was getting caught up in the general excitement.

“Since we have to wait until after the Wizengamot session, that shouldn’t be a problem,” Bill reassured. “Harry, will you be able to make it?”

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, looking down at the table. “I’m not really doing anything.”

“You’re recovering,” Hermione said quietly enough that Ron knew only the three of them heard it but fiercely enough that Harry nodded. He had that haunted look again that he’d had when he first walked in that evening.

“I’m not doing anything either,” Ginny said, “and I wouldn’t miss this even if I were.”

Charlie just nodded in confirmation, and the twins both heartily agreed they would be there.

“We weel be, too,” Fleur confirmed, a glow in her eyes at the prospect. Bill smiled softly back at her.

“And I’ll be along as well,” Percy said stiffly, though he was watching Hermione as he spoke. Ron had noticed the way his eyes followed her at all times, sometimes looking worried and other times heated. He had no idea what the worry might be about, but it seemed their night together must have gone well.

“Can anyone tell us about ze house?” Fleur asked.

“Oh, you’ll love the garden and greenhouse!” Hermione gushed. “And it has window seats, and a library, and a tower!”

“It does need a lot of work,” Charlie countered, “but I can handle most of it, and we could contract out the rest.”

“Does it have a Quidditch Pitch?” Ginny asked, though from her expression, Ron could tell she already anticipated the answer. Knowing she had seen the spec sheets for some of the houses before, she probably remembered that aspect.

“No, but it has plenty of room for flying and more than enough space to put up goals and make our own pitch,” George told her.

“So you like this one best?” Bill asked, looking to Hermione.

“I do,” she said, “but I’m okay if we want to keep looking.”

“You don’t have to back down from what you want,” Percy told her. “We’ll be happy if it has most of the things we were hoping for.”

“It has the possibilities of everything on the list with some work,” Charlie enthused. It was clear this was his favorite of what he had seen.

“Well if you’re willing to take care of it—” Ginny started, but Charlie cut in.

“Of course, I would like to think some of you are gaining skills while restoring Hogwarts and could help out with what will need doing.”

Their sister’s nose crinkled, “You sound like a teacher.”

“Good,” Charlie laughed, “Since I am one. Which reminds me…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The Headmistress wants me to beg you to work for Hogwarts.”

“Which of us?” Ron asked, looking around the table.

“Everyone but you and Percy, really, since you’re the only two with dedicated jobs,” he explained. He then rushed to add, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but Minerva is hoping at least one or two of you will be willing to teach something.”

“We are free to do eet now, Beel,” Fleur said happily. “I ‘adn’t thought yet about what we weel do with our time once ze Wizengamot eez not een session.”

“What does that have to do with you?” Ron asked before he thought better of it.

Not only did Fleur turn her glare on him, but several of the others did as well. With a haughty look, Fleur informed him, “I ‘ave been on ze committee zat prepares ze food for ze Wizengamot as well as ‘elping Beel with what he feels needs more information.”

Ron blinked. He had assumed house elves provided the food. And he wasn’t sure what she meant about helping Bill, but it didn’t really matter. “So what subjects does Professor McGonagall still need to fill?”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, and Ancient Runes. She thought she had someone lined up for Defense, but they got an offer from the Auror department instead. Harry, she would still really like your expertise there,” Charlie said.

Harry was already shaking his head no. “That would be ridiculous. I’m their age!”

“You taught the DA marvelously and some of us were older than you,” Fred pointed out.

Still shaking his head, Harry glared at the floor. “I’m not ready for anything like that.”

“And that’s perfectly fine, Harry,” Hermione assured him. “No one needs to press you into anything.” She was giving Charlie a harsh look now and Ron almost laughed to see his big, muscular brother gulp as though Hermione might hurt him.

“Of course it’s fine,” Charlie hastened to agree. “I’m just delivering the message.” His hands were in the air in a surrendering gesture.

“I’ll be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor,” Bill said with a grin. “With my scars, I look the part.”

“What if it’s still cursed?” Ginny asked.

Bill shrugged. “Then I’ll find a new job next year.”

“I want to teach ze Ancient Runes class, I zink,” Fleur mused.

“Not potions?” Bill asked in surprise.

“Non,” she told him. “I zink I ‘ave a solution for zat class zat maybe ze ‘Eadmistress ‘as not considered.”

“What is it?” Charlie asked eagerly. Ron could tell he was thinking how pleased McGonagall would be.

“I weel tell ‘er over tea. Could you give ‘er a note for me?” Fleur asked Charlie sweetly.

He looked just slightly put out that she wouldn’t share, but he replied with, “Of course. Can I tell her about the two of you being willing to be professors?”

Fleur and Bill exchanged a long look before Bill said, “Yes, you can do that. But tell her there will be conditions.” Charlie beamed at them, unconcerned by whatever these conditions were.

“Well if that’s settled,” Percy began, “Did we figure out the house issue?”

“We’ll all look at this one and see what we think, then discuss it again,” Bill decided, but thankfully everyone else was nodding along. Ron was happy everyone was withholding judgment until they saw the place. He wasn’t expecting much, but perhaps it was wonderful beyond the library and window seats that had captivated their wife.

“The next order of business, then, is what to do about revealing Ginny’s condition,” Percy stated, looking down at what was undoubtedly an actual itinerary he had drawn up. Ron barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Percy’s organizational talents were helpful in this situation, but it was still hard not to take the piss out of him.

Shaking his head, Ron refocused onto the topic at hand. Charlie was asking, “If we’re going to give a statement, what should it say?”

“I think the first thing to establish is whether or not the wizarding world realizes Ginny is married to Hermione,” Fred responded first.

“Why is that the first thing?” Hermione asked. Ron knew she was brilliant, but she had never gotten the hang of social strategizing or why people worked one way or another.

“Because if they understand that, then Ginny isn’t just a pregnant teenager, she’s a cheating pregnant teenager,” George explained.

“It happened before she was married!” Harry protested, cheeks red. Ron knew his best friend did not want to discuss their baby-making in this room full of Ginny’s brothers.

“That’s going to be hard to explain,” Bill said with a sigh and only a slight glare at Harry.

“But we will explain it,” Ron spoke up. “Because we did include her previously — should have thought about that a little harder — and no one needs to think less of Gin and Harry because of something that can be explained.”

“I don’t know that anyone will believe us,” Percy said, shaking his head.

“Why not?” Ron countered. “We’ve been perfectly transparent so far. And we’re giving them a crazy story to enjoy.”

“Mark Twain once said, ‘Truth is stranger than fiction,’” Hermione commented. Only Harry nodded. Ron surmised this Mark Twain fellow must be muggle since he and his siblings had never heard of him. Continuing, Hermione said, “We certainly couldn’t make up a more bizarre story than this one.”

Ron had it then. “But what if we can?” Everyone turned to gape at him. “Let’s just tell them that she and Harry are in love and together and that Hermione is good with it.”

“Absolutely not!” Ginny stated furiously. “You can’t just decide my life like this! Especially when we can’t— When we aren’t—” She burst into angry tears, rubbing at her eyes with a hard look on her face.

Harry took a step toward her, his arms out to hug her, but she glared him away. Instead, he bit his lip and looked over at Ron. He knew what Harry wanted. With a sigh, Ron shook his head. “I’m not trying to arrange your life. I’m just trying to make it so that they don’t make you out to be something you’re not.”

“It’s a good spin,” Percy spoke up. “They’ll soon be speculating about you marrying Harry Potter instead of talking about a pregnant teenager.”

“But I can’t marry him even if I wanted to,” Ginny exclaimed.

“You can,” George said.

“What?” everyone asked, all eyes turning to George.

George shrugged. “Dad married Mum after being part of the group marriage. I don’t know how it’s done but it obviously can be.”

“Finding out how would mean talking to Mum,” Ron said slowly, wondering if this would make Ginny blow up again. To his surprise, her angry tears became anguished sobs and this time she did let Harry pull her into his chest. Maybe they weren’t in love right now, but Ron was still glad they had each other as friends.

“Ze Professors are trying with ‘er,” Fleur told them. “She eez your mum and she loves you all. She weel come around weeth perspective.”

“Someday,” Fred muttered. Charlie nodded in agreement.

“Mum will go spare if she thinks you’re marrying Harry and she’s not involved, Gin,” Ron pointed out. “That might bring her around all by itself.”

“I don’t know,” Ginny said, sniffling. “I don’t want to think about this yet.”

Percy looked taken aback. “But we have to plan a time to release something. You can’t go to Hogwarts in your condition and let it leak without a statement from us.”

“Why can’t I?” she asked defiantly.

“Ginny,” Hermione began, putting her hand on the other girl’s back. “I understand how hard this must be, but we’re all trying to help make it easier, truly. A statement lets you control what people hear about you.”

“Then I should be the one writing it — not all of my brothers,” Ginny argued.

“You’re right,” Ron said, deciding to use her tactic against her. “What do you want to say?”

After a moment, Ginny deflated. “I have no idea. I guess… I guess it would be best if Harry and I had been dating before and…” She trailed off, at a loss, but Ron could suddenly see it.

“You were dating before and you consummated your relationship the night the world was finally free from Voldemort, in celebration. Then you had to sacrifice your relationship, your very freedom, for the life of your brother. And though you are married to Hermione in name, you are in love with Harry Potter, the father of your child. It’ll be so tragic and romantic, they’ll eat it up!” Ron announced triumphantly.

The whole family was staring at him, stunned.

“Yes, that should do it,” Percy finally said, pushing up his glasses and giving Ron a rare smile of approval.

Ginny looked like she wanted to protest, but finally just shook her head and said, “Yes, fine. Tell them that.”

“How soon should we do it?” George asked.

“The sooner the better,” Bill declared. “We don’t want her to start showing—”

“You idiot. No one will be able to see anything for another month or two, at least,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes at her oldest brother.

Bill looked to Fleur and Hermione, who were both shaking with suppressed laughter. “She’s right, I take it?”

“She eez,” Fleur confirmed. “But eet would be wise to release ze story een plenty of time before ze start of school so ze vultures can move on to something else.”

“I’ll get in touch with Belinda,” Bill said. “If you’re okay with doing it soon, Ginny?”

“I don’t know. Wouldn’t being at Hogwarts mean I would have more protection?” she asked.

“Maybe,” Bill agreed, his eyebrows crinkling as he thought about it. “You wouldn’t have to deal with reporters or the public outside of Hogwarts, but there may be more bullying and we wouldn’t always be able to have someone with you.”

“You might recall that I can hold my own quite well in Hogwarts. I can do well enough outside, too, once they take the trace off my damn wand,” she grumbled.

Bill looked like he wanted to say something but, with Ginny’s glare squarely on him, he chose not to. Sighing instead, he said, “Right before or even once you’re at Hogwarts may be for the best. We can continue to deal with the reporters hounding us about the marriage.”

“Well that’s settled,” Percy said with a smile, his quill moving in a flourish as he crossed off another item.

“Wait!” Harry protested. “Are you all being harassed about the marriage?”

“Well, yes,” Bill said with a grimace, “But it’s nothing we can’t handle.” Harry looked like he wanted to protest, but he nodded instead.

Clearing his throat, Percy said, “Now the schedule…” He waved his wand and everyone’s schedule was in front of them.

Ron felt slightly ashamed by how rumpled his looked next to the others but it couldn’t be helped. Not if he was going to keep it anywhere useful.

“Who hasn’t had time in a while?” Bill asked.

“Me!” Ginny declared. She wasn’t wrong. Ron couldn’t quite remember when she had last been with Hermione alone. Of course, his days were also a blur of fighting with his partner and collapsing in bed, so perhaps he just forgot it. But others were nodding, so probably not.

“Of course,” Percy soothed before Ginny could get upset again and started to mark her down for the next night.

“Tomorrow night, after the ritual, I think we should all sleep in a bed together,” Hermione said hesitantly.

No one had wanted to bring up the ritual yet, though they would certainly need to talk about it before the meeting adjourned.

“Isn’t the point of the ritual that we don’t all have to be together all the time anymore?” Fred asked, an easy smile on his face but the corners of his eyes were tight.

“It is,” Hermione agreed. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t still choose each other.”

Fred clearly didn’t like that, but didn’t say anything. Bill cleared his throat. “Where could we go that we could transfigure a bed big enough?”

“Grimmauld would work,” Harry said, looking away as he offered.

Hermione reached over for his hand. “I want you there, too, Harry. And you, Fleur. We’re all in this together. I choose all of you. We’re a family, no matter what magic says.”

“Careful, Mione, or you’ll go making more bonds,” Ron cautioned. The last thing they needed was for her to somehow tie Harry in before he had the chance to dissolve his already confused bonds.

“So tomorrow night is everyone, then Ginny gets a night,” Percy noted.

“Wait,” George protested. “Are we skipping Freddie and I?”

“You have her tonight, you’ll be with us all tomorrow night, and Ginny has been waiting a long time. Patiently, for her,” Percy said with a smirk at their sister. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“You’ll have her Saturday night, too,” Charlie pointed out, sounding like he didn’t like it, but not protesting.

Harry spoke up next, his eyes meeting Ron’s. “Could we— I know I’m not a husband and Ron is, well, not a husband in the traditional sense, but could we have a trio night on Sunday? If it’s okay with everyone. I mean—”

“It bloody well better be okay,” Hermione interrupted. “I do need time with my two best friends.” She smiled at them both.

“Why would you need an overnight to do it?” Fred complained.

“Because they deserve my time, too. And it would be fun to do something normal. I’ve still never shown them around Muggle London and there are so many places to explore,” Hermione said, eyes shining.

“But you can do that with any of us, at any time of day,” Percy noted. At first Ron was surprised he was siding with Fred, but then he realized his older brother looked like he was plotting something, leading the conversation.

“But not all of you have been my best friends since I was twelve,” Hermione snapped. “I deserve time with my friends as well as all of you. And sometimes that can be a sleepover.”

Percy smiled at her, his eyes going soft. “Well said.”

“We must ‘ave a girls’ night sleepover!” Fleur suddenly burst out, looking excited. “Eet does not ‘ave to be immediately, but we must plan eet for you and me and Ginny!” She was gushing and Hermione grinned back madly. Especially when she added, “We weel send Beel away with ‘is brothers!”

Hermione laughed, but then sobered quickly. “I know it can’t happen until things settle down with the Wizengamot but… before the summer ends, I need to go to Australia. To find my parents and see…” She trailed off, holding back tears, “And I need… I know you’re all busy and I hate to ask, but I will need at least one or two of you with me.”

“You may not need anyone after the ritual,” Ron pointed out, though he immediately regretted it.

“Need is about more than bonds,” Percy reprimanded sharply. Turning to Hermione, he gently said, “We will make sure you don’t go alone.”

“And don’t think we wouldn’t drop everything to go with you,” Fred offered, looking very serious. “There is no question that you are the most important thing in our lives.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The shop is your life’s work,” Hermione said, shaking her head.

“And you are the life in our hearts and souls,” George told her. “We’ll always choose you.”

Ron could tell Hermione was overwhelmed by that response, so he stepped in. “So that one goes in the future since we have to wait out the Wizengamot first, but we’re all in agreement that she’ll have as many of us there as she needs, right?”

There was a chorus of agreement before Percy redirected them back to the current schedule. “So Fred and George will be Monday night, then who is up on Tuesday?”

“Let’s leave that for after the ritual,” Bill suggested. “See what everyone needs then.”

Everyone nodded again. There would be another family meeting between now and then, no doubt.

“So the last order of business, saved for last at our lady’s request, is the ritual,” Percy announced.

All heads turned to Hermione, who took a deep breath before beginning to outline how the next evening would go.

Notes:

I want to address Percy's scene last chapter because it caused some definite controversy. Some of you loved it, some of you hated it. No matter how you felt about it, know that Percy realizes he has some apologizing to do and Hermione's thoughts on it in this chapter do not reflect his thoughts. She's happy and uninterested in hearing apologies about something she enjoyed. He has other ideas. It will be a few chapters before it's addressed, which is just a few days for them but a considerably longer wait for us. I promise I haven't forgotten about it.

Chapter 40

Notes:

Thank you immensely to my team who are working so hard to help me keep all this straight and bring you the best story we can manage!

Enjoy!

EDIT: I have been asked to include a dubious consent tag on this chapter and because it happens in literally the first few lines, I'll just go ahead and explain that when George wakes up, he joins in on what Fred and Hermione are doing without giving them any warning he is awake. Please don't read that if it will upset you, just skip down to the next bit.

George woke to the sound of his twin grunting on the other side of the bed. Hermione’s head was down low, clearly taking his length in her mouth and, based on the sounds Fred was making, doing a fantastic job of it. He hardened at the very thought of how good her mouth felt.

Taking a moment to orient himself and watch, George realized that Hermione was perfectly positioned with her gorgeous arse in the air at the edge of the bed. With a grin, he got quietly off the bed and walked around.

They had all been so tired last night that they’d fallen asleep before they could do anything, all snuggled together. George wasn’t sure when he had pulled away from them, but now that he was sneaking around the bed, he was glad of it.

As he had hoped, Hermione’s beautiful pussy was glistening, she was so wet. George pulled out his cock and gave it a few good strokes. He wanted to run his fingers through her wet folds and use her own lubrication for himself, but not as much as he wanted to surprise her.

Lining himself up without actually touching her, George didn’t announce himself before thrusting inside her, the wet heat so sudden and so tight that he instantly felt on edge. Hermione squealed around his brother’s cock, pulling off as Fred groaned and whipping her head around to stare at him.

“George,” she gasped. “I had no idea—” She cut off on a moan as he maneuvered his cock to hit her in that perfect spot that he knew drove her mad.

Before Hermione could protest any further, Fred pulled her back around, leaning up to kiss her thoroughly before she pushed him off and began sucking him again. George heard Fred gasp and their eyes met. Neither of them were going to last long.

George’s hands went around her, one to rest on her hip and pull her body back onto him as he thrust, and the other to work her clit. Hermione moaned around Fred again, causing him to groan. George knew exactly what it felt like to have her throaty hum vibrating around his cock. The thought plus her tight walls constricting around him as she reacted to his stimulation made it hard to hold back.

His thrusts were becoming erratic and he rubbed at her clit a little harder, grinning down at Fred when Hermione screamed and began to go wild around both of them. He saw his twin’s eyes practically roll up in his head as he lost the battle to hang on. George himself was right on that edge. When Hermione orgasmed for a second time, he lost it, coming hard inside her.

It took everything he had to stay on his feet instead of collapsing on top of the two of them. Usually he would want to drop onto the bed, suggest a nap, but, glancing at the clock, George realized there wasn’t time today. The shop wouldn’t open itself.

They really needed to work on hiring some more employees, probably make Lee and Verity managers so that he and Fred could focus on the new Hogsmeade location. Of course, that would mean telling everyone they had purchased Zonko’s. It had been talked about, but they hadn’t confirmed it to anyone but each other. Even Hermione didn’t yet know.

Why he was thinking about this while coming down from a mind-blowing orgasm, George wasn’t sure. He could tell Fred and Hermione were barely conscious after theirs, but he also knew they needed to be up, too. Harry was leading the plans for today, but he would need their support.

“I’ll make the tea and coffee,” George said. “You two should shower.”

“What about you?” Hermione asked. With a lazy smile, she added, “You could join us?”

“Not this morning. Someone needs to get us moving. There’s too much to do today.”

Hermione sighed and nodded, losing the blissful look and rolling off the bed. Fred glared at him but Hermione came to his side and gave him a kiss. “Thank you for keeping us focused,” she said. George felt a warmth going back and forth between them. Love, and everything that came with it.

“Someone has to,” George teased, smiling at her. “Especially this wanker,” he added, tugging at Fred’s foot.

“Hey!” Fred protested. “I’ll get up. I know today’s important!”

“Good, I had hoped you wouldn’t forget,” Hermione teased. “We do still have time for a shower, though.” Her eyes were hot as she looked at Fred. George shook his head, laughing as he headed off to get breakfast going.

***********

Harry’s nerves were on edge as he paced the Potter office at the Ministry. He and Hermione had talked over their strategy extensively last night. He knew exactly what to do, and he had his bill ready, but he was so fearful that something would still go wrong.

From the chair behind the desk, Hermione said, “Harry, you have to calm down. If you go out this agitated, the press will get wind of something big going on before we get the chance to enact it.”

“I thought it didn’t matter who found out?” he said tersely.

“Well it doesn’t, but I would still enjoy hitting them with a total surprise,” she answered with a wicked grin. This was the Hermione who started an underground army, the one who kept a reporter in a jar for months on end. Harry found himself pausing to grin back. They were going to do this. If Hermione was behind it to this extent, it had no chance of failure.

When it was time, the two of them started down toward the courtroom each wearing a facade of calm. He matched his pace to hers, even though he wanted to storm ahead, and the two of them talked quietly about nothing important as they walked.

The reporters hounded them, of course, but they were mostly able to ignore the shouted questions about whose trials would happen today, the pointed inquiries about the large Weasley family, and even the one very nasty one about when Hermione decided to become a whore, though Harry did hex that particular reporter in the bum.

The trials today were supposed to be for Draco Malfoy and Gregory Goyle. Harry wasn’t looking forward to either of them. He wasn’t sure what outcome he was hoping for, though he did feel obligated to speak for Draco. He wasn’t invested in his rival getting off as easily as his mother had, but he also hated the idea of the two schoolboys going to Azkaban for even 2 years as Kingsley had said anyone with a Mark would.

He had known Sirius after Azkaban. They would never recover, never stop hating those who had put them there. As much as he wanted them punished, Harry wasn’t sure that would help their world recover. He felt momentary guilt that he was keeping them there even one extra night.

Still, he was thankful that they wouldn’t actually have to deal with those trials today. Harry happily stepped inside the Wizengamot’s chambers, where the reporters couldn’t follow. He sighed in relief as he and Hermione made their way to their seats. It had been a happy coincidence in his eyes that the Potter and Black seats were next to one another. Of course, it probably hadn’t gone well when they hated one another, but now it was perfect.

 

Theo’s eyes met his briefly as he came in and Harry gave the tiniest nod. The boy looked away, but Harry could see a dimple in his cheek that meant he was smiling. He couldn’t figure out what Theo would gain from this, but he was glad of the tip he had given him anyway.

Watching the rest of the Wizengamot slowly wander in was maddening when Harry just wanted everything to start, but Percy finally sounded the bell that meant everyone was to quiet down and begin the day’s agenda. Of course, he knew they weren’t going to get too far into it, but everyone else gasped in surprise when Harry interrupted, standing and shooting sparks up with his wand for attention.

“I, Lord Harry James Potter, enact the Law of Rights. Lex Iurium!”

The chamber began to rumble as magic gathered around them. Hermione had shown him the passage in the book that said Magic would react, but he hadn’t expected it to feel so potent. Everyone was staring at him, looking utterly stunned. Even those who had known his plan — Percy, Bill, Fred, Hermione, and Theo, looked at him in awe.

Harry was vaguely aware that he was glowing. He felt power pulsing in his veins in a way he had never experienced before. Not even holding the Elder Wand had felt like this. He somehow knew he had the power of the full Wizengamot at his disposal in that moment.

“On whose behalf do you enact the Law of Rights?” Kingsley asked, his voice hesitant and shaky.

“On behalf of myself and Edward Remus Lupin, Heir Apparent to the House of Lupin.”

Lord Greengrass spoke before Kingsley could. “The Law of Rights is so obscure that I do not know all of the ins and outs of it, but I was under the impression that it can only be used on behalf of Wizengamot members.”

“This is true,” Harry agreed. “For the entirety of their life.”

“Well that clearly means until they die, even if they are no longer a sitting member,” Lord Greengrass argued.

“Ah, but the phrasing applies to those who will sit on the Wizengamot as well,” Harry said, smiling. “And Teddy will. Besides,” he added with a smirk, “he is technically sitting here now.” He gestured to the wrap that Andromeda was wearing with the turquoise-headed baby inside.

Several members laughed despite themselves. Harry felt like his natural charisma was somehow amplified as he smiled at the tousled head of his godson. Andromeda was watching him quizzically and he nodded to her.

“The Law of Rights states that, among other things, all members of the Wizengamot have the right to have all of their needs met. According to our current laws, this is not guaranteed for Edward Lupin, and it was not guaranteed — or met — when I was a child,” Harry informed them all. He saw some dawning comprehension as he spoke.

“You cannot be serious,” Lady Goldwin hissed. “You’ve been told we won’t pass—”

“A law that guarantees the safety of orphaned children? I think we will pass this bill. Or you may propose your own, but no one leaves this chamber until the Law of Rights is satisfied. So sayeth Magic. So mote it be,” Harry intoned.

The Wizengamot members stared at one another, horrified.

“You’re holding us hostage!” Lord Fitz cried, looking apoplectic.

“The old laws, the magic of this very land, binds us when the Law of Rights is called upon,” Kingsley stated, trying to pivot. He whispered something to Percy and Harry saw the red-head send his message patronus, a stoat, probably to alert the guards outside that no prisoner would be brought in anytime soon. Harry smiled that he had succeeded in derailing the trials.

“Now, after consulting with one of the senior Wizengamot members, I have revised my bill.” Harry could see Lady Longbottom looking around at the other members of the light, clearly furious and wondering which of them had helped him. He barely refrained from laughing. Of course she wouldn’t consider one of the neutral Houses.

Looking to Hermione for a moment, he snapped his fingers at the same time she performed the duplication spell, making a copy of his bill appear neatly in front of everyone. There were gasps of surprise from those who didn’t realize the subterfuge. “You will notice that the language is better defined, and the bill has been signed by more than the required three Houses.” He had gotten ten signatures, just to prove that he could, that it had a lot of support.

“This changes nothing,” Lord Greengrass practically growled, for the first time losing his grating smoothness. “Bills like this must be paid for—”

“And this one is,” Harry answered calmly.

“As Lady Weasley said last time, you can’t just pay for everything yourself,” Lord Pritchard said.

Harry felt his patience shrinking. “If you would read the new bill, you would see that I’m not personally paying a penny of it.”

There was grumbling for a moment, and then the shuffle of papers as people grudgingly read.

Lady Burke cleared her throat and said, “I still don’t see any point in these ‘social workers’ you mention—”

“If you read further, their jobs are described, including what would be expected of them and why those things are necessary to the well-being of the children,” Susan Bones told the woman, her voice as sweet as honey. Harry almost laughed. He hadn’t expected assistance from her.

A quiet voice spoke into the silence that followed. “Why are these services only being offered to orphans?”

Harry blinked and stared up at Theo. He hadn’t expected him to comment on anything. “This bill is specifically for the benefit of orphaned children—”

“Then I insist we either change this bill or write a new one that includes social workers being available for the welfare of all wixen children, orphaned or not,” Theo said. His soft voice carried through the chamber into the stunned silence.

Kingsley ventured, “Perhaps that would be better handled by a committee—”

“There should be a committee, but it should be backed by law,” Theo declared with certainty in his voice.

“Then write up a bill, boy,” Lord Entwhistle snapped irritably.

Theo stood, drawing himself to his full, impressive, height with his deep blue eyes nearly sparking. Harry watched as he stared down the older man and said, “I am Lord Nott. I know I am not my father, but you will offer me the same respect you always gave him.” Lord Entwhistle shrank back a little at the young man’s anger and Harry silently cheered for his… well, he wasn’t sure if Theo was a friend exactly.

Continuing, Theo said, “I will write up another bill if we can’t modify this one, but know that it will happen today.”

“The Law of Rights will be satisfied once Harry’s bill passes,” Bill pointed out gently.

“If it can be enacted retroactively for him, then it can be for others as well,” Theo stated. He was so matter-of-fact about it that it took several long moments for his meaning to sink in.

“You were—” Harry started before he thought better of it.

Theo glared at him, but only said, “We can make this bill about all children’s welfare, or I can call on the Law for a second reckoning.”

As Harry looked to Hermione to see what she might think, he noticed that Percy was whispering in Kingsley’s ear. He wondered if, with this new development, Percy had decided to inform the Minister of their plans for the day. Judging from Kingsley’s exasperated expression, he probably had.

Nodding to Harry, Hermione stood and said, “I think this bill could be adapted to include all children. It will take some work.”

Before he knew what was happening, she had gathered Theo, Andromeda, and Bee to her and they were making their way to a large table she had conjured in the central area below. Lady Alva joined them and, to Harry’s surprise, Lord Selwyn. A silencing ward went up around the table and the rest of the assemblage was left looking at one another.

“Shall we have a recess, then?” Lord Rosier huffed.

Percy shook his head, but it was Kingsley who spoke. “The Law of Rights allows no one to leave the room until the rights of the affronted member have been restored.”

“You can’t be serious!” Lady Bulstrode cried.

“Others can come in and out,” Percy explained, “but the members of the Wizengamot must stay until the issue is resolved.”

Lord Blotts looked furious. “This is an affront. I wish to call on the Law of Rights that my basic needs aren’t being met here.”

Kingsley somehow refrained from rolling his eyes. “You would need to cast the spell. And it can’t be cast until Harry’s casting is completed.”

Fred took the reins, standing to get everyone’s attention. “As we are currently trapped here, perhaps we could take up some of the Wizengamot’s day to day business?”

“That does seem like it would be a better use of the day,” Kingsley said slowly. “Assuming an agreement is reached that will satisfy the rights of Lord Potter and Heir Apparent Lupin, we will resume the trials after lunch. Until then, let us work to help our world recover.”

***********

“I can’t believe it’s tonight,” Ginny said as she worked on her end of the complicated cord they were preparing with purple ribbons, vines of magically enhanced strelitzia flowers, and a long rope of Weasley hair, from all of them, magically stretched and bound so that it would be long enough to weave in.

Charlie worked on his end as he nodded. “It has felt so far away, but it will be a relief when Hermione isn’t pained by us being away.”

Ginny snorted. Hermione wasn’t really the one suffering since she always had someone nearby, but of course Charlie would think of her before himself. He was like that. So instead of arguing about it, she said, “It will be better for all of us.”

For a few moments, they worked silently until Charlie spoke. His voice was quieter, more uncertain than usual, “What if the ritual unbonds us completely?” He was clearly worried.

Fighting down the urge to laugh, Ginny studied the cord in her hands. “Charlie, I don’t think it works that way. You can’t just accidentally break a bond like this.”

“We’re going into a ritual. It could have consequences we don’t understand, just like the first one did,” Charlie said vehemently. The cord in his hand was getting crumpled.

Snapping at him, Ginny chastised, “Don’t take it out on the cord, for Merlin’s sake! Remember how Hermione said our intention is important as we work this?”

“She also said it’s important for all seven of us to do it, but only you and I are available,” he pointed out.

“Everyone will do part of it. That’s the best we can do,” Ginny told him sensibly. “With that in mind, though, we should probably stop here so we don’t do too much of it.”

Charlie nodded, twisting it all carefully into the yarn basket Mum had given Ginny years ago, trying to get her to learn knitting. It was Charlie, Percy, and George who were good at that, but of course Mum wouldn’t accept that her daughter wasn’t interested.

Sighing at the thought, Ginny turned away. There really wasn’t anything else they could do yet to prepare. So much of it had to be done by all of them. Plus, Ginny didn’t feel confident enough in ritual magic to do things without Bill or Hermione to direct them. She wouldn’t have worked on the weaving if Charlie hadn’t insisted.

She knew he was feeling anxious about tonight and sad about his friends from the Sanctuary leaving so quickly. He needed to keep his hands and mind busy. “Come on,” Ginny said to him. “Let’s see if George needs help in the shop.”

***********

The only word Bill could think of to describe this experience was impressive. He hadn’t really expected Harry’s plan to work, though he probably should have known that with Hermione behind it as well it would be executed to perfection.

To his further surprise, Fred had continued to lead the Wizengamot through the issues they were facing. Financial help for struggling businesses would be provided starting immediately from the fines that had already been collected. They had discussed the demands of the centaurs, though Bill had been sad to see that issue had been set aside for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to deal with. It had surprised him, but almost the entire Wizengamot worked together to determine how victims would petition for restitution from the Death Eaters, and how to set up the collected fines to automatically fund those accounts.

By the time all that was worked out, lunch was being brought into the Chamber. Bill hated to look ignorant, but he leaned over to Lord Abbott and asked, “Why don’t they serve the meal in here the same way Hogwarts does?”

Lord Abbott smiled indulgently. “For one thing, the sentient magic of Hogwarts allows that to happen in a way it wouldn’t work anywhere else. However, it particularly would not work here because nothing can be Accio’d to or from this chamber.”

Bill could have slapped himself. Of course you couldn’t do those things in this chamber. He was blushing and about to apologize for his blunder when a screeching voice cried out, “I petition the Wizengamot for an audience.”

“How did you get in here?” Kingsley demanded of the bottle-blonde woman with her long green nails and glasses.

“Skeeter likely used her unregistered beetle Animagus form to sneak inside,” Fred announced loudly.

There was instant pandemonium as the Wizengamot members — all victims of Rita at some point or another — shouted in indignation and rage.

“You’ll go to Azkaban for this!” Lord Flint told the witch. She stood stock still for a moment, a sickly sheen to her skin.

“I won’t,” she said in a voice that was only slightly shaky, though she still looked a little green. “I think you’ll find I’m registered as of two months ago, and I have an official pardon from Minister Thicknesse for my previous status.” From her purse, she pulled a sheet of parchment that Bill was certain would be impervious to any kind of destruction.

“This won’t stand!” Lady Brown shouted. “That woman said horrible things about my daughter, and she was a hero!”

“And my boy,” Lord Diggory cried. “She all but ignored him in the Tournament until he died and then she had terrible things to say. I had no idea how she was getting her information.”

Kingsley tried to call for calm, but no one was listening to him. Instead, Lord Shafiq declared, “We don’t have to accept Minister Thicknesse’s pardon.”

There were many shouts of agreement, but several others were reluctantly shaking their heads. It was Lady Longbottom who spoke up. “As distasteful as it is to think of this piece of refuse being free to continue her vitriol, we do have to honor a Minister’s pardon. It’s part of the laws that were set down when the Wizengamot agreed to the establishment of the Ministry, as old as the Law of Rights.”

People tried to argue with her, but Augusta stared them down one by one. “These are the laws of our world, the immutable laws. We cannot ignore the pardon… but we can find other ways to act.” Her smile was so sinister that Bill shuddered.

“No!” Rita argued. “I’m here to offer my formal apology to the Houses of Weasley and Prewett.” Hesitantly, she added, “I can make apologies to more Houses if I need to.”

Before Bill could decide what to say, Fred spoke up. “What do you have to offer that would be enough to sway the tide of every House in this chamber?” There was a rumbling of agreement, grudging from some, Bill noticed. Not everyone was comfortable agreeing with one of the infamous Weasley twins no matter how sensible his words.

The beetle had the sense to look nervous when she offered, “I bring you my deepest apologies for the offense. I hope you will accept this peace offering of 5,000 galleons to each of your houses and my willingness to write a true story of your family, if you wish.” Her eyes were glistening with desire and Bill was certain it wasn’t for their bodies. She desperately wanted to write that story.

He stepped forward. “And does this offer stand for every House here that you have wronged?”

“5,000 galleons is nothing,” Lord Greengrass interrupted. “Even if you had enough galleons in your possession to pay each of us that amount — which I doubt — it is nowhere near enough for an apology to one of the real Noble houses.”

Bill felt his blood boil at the implication that House Weasley — that all the new Houses — didn’t actually count. It was astounding how fast all of this had come to mean something to him. “It isn’t enough for any of our Noble Houses,” he voiced, “But it is a moot point if you cannot satisfy all of us.”

With a trembling voice, Rita looked around at the angry mass of Wizengamot members and said, “I would need to know exactly how many Houses wish—”

There were shouts from all around again. Even the Muggleborns were calling for her formal apology. Bill wanted to smile at the position the bug was in. Though he usually had to fight down and stay in control of his emotions, today he realized there was no reason he couldn’t show Rita Skeeter exactly how he felt. His smile probably wasn’t as frightening as Lady Longbottom’s, but he hoped it was disturbing enough. Based on the way she paled, it must have been.

“Suffice to say, all fifty Houses would like restitution for your lies and ill-gotten truths,” he told her. There wasn’t quite a cheer behind him, but Bill heard plenty of encouraging statements.

“And if that’s not possible,” Fred added, “then we will be passing a law right now that will prevent those issues from this moment forward.” There were a few gasps, but then the swelling of more agreement.

“Wait,” Rita practically begged. “I can be of use to all of you. The stories of your families—”

“Should be told by someone with scruples,” Lord Pritchard declared.

“But—” she began and was cut off again when Lady Burke said, “And I wouldn’t take your gold even if you had enough to be worthwhile.”

“Let’s see about that law,” Lord Fawley suggested.

It took less than twenty minutes to agree on the wording of the law and for a unanimous vote to pass. Rita Skeeter would no longer be using her Animagus form to spy on them and write her nasty stories.

The whole time they debated, Rita had been doing her best to interject. She had been reduced to begging when she finally caught Bill and Fred’s attention again. “Lord Weasley, Lord Prewett. Do you accept my apology? May I write about you again — assuming I don’t go against the new law?” she asked. “Please?”

“For 10,000 galleons in each of our family vaults and the promise that you will not print anything but the absolute truth about our family,” Bill agreed, “we will accept your apology.”

She sagged with relief. “Agreed.”

He had no idea where she would find the money for that, or what she would do about the rest of the Wizengamot, but he was pleased with their agreement even though Fred was shaking his head, lips pursed as though Bill had just made a terrible mistake. He wished they could have a recess so that he could ask. He was sure his younger brother would let him know all about it later. For now, Bill focused on his uneaten lunch, hoping that Harry’s bill would be finished soon.

**********

Though several hours had passed as they worked, Hermione was happy with the finished product when they brought forth the comprehensive bill that would cover proper treatment of all children and offer special provisions for orphans, especially those from the war. She had enjoyed working with the more neutral Houses, and, to her surprise, “Theo” as he introduced himself, was a delight. He was brilliant and easy-going… until a topic got too personal. Then he shut down like any good pureblood behind a mask of indifference.

She was disturbed by how many times that happened while discussing child abuse. He had clearly been through a lot, even if he wouldn’t talk about it. As they had worked together, she had begun to form a plan — a recruitment plan. Theo would be a perfect addition to her work on educating muggleborns about the wizarding world, the deep pureblood customs they had never shared with “outsiders” before.

Now wasn’t the time, though. Hermione set aside her thoughts on Theo and refocused on presenting the bill to the Wizengamot. Bee and Lady Alva were actually handling the majority of the presentation, but Hermione wanted to be paying attention in case she needed to drop something in.

“So all children who have been exposed to abuse or trauma will be given the opportunity to receive help in the form of intervention and sessions with a Mind Healer. Naturally, this will necessitate hiring and training witches and wizards for these roles. Temporarily, we will likely have to hire from the continent or even America until we have our own practitioners,” Bee was explaining as Hermione tuned back in. She was doing a much better job than Hermione could have.

Lord Selwyn then explained the finer details of how this would be financed through the current budget. Kingsley looked grim at how tightly this would stretch the Ministry coffers until Woodrow looked directly at him and smiled. “Of course all those funds will increase with the influx of seized Death Eater vaults.”

Shockingly, the vast majority of Lords and Ladies — even some of the dark Houses — looked grimly pleased by this. Money apparently talked louder than former alliances.

When they finished explaining everything, the vote was called. To her astonishment, it won 34 to 16. With the threat of spending days here if Harry’s call to the Law of Rights wasn’t answered, she had expected it would pass. She hadn’t expected it to pass by such a large margin.

Her eyes met Harry’s jubilant ones and they shared a smile that was softer than she usually saw from him. It made something stir deep in her body, a tingle racing down her spine. Her feelings for her best friend were just being influenced by the bond, she coached herself. But it didn’t really matter in the face of the desire burning inside. Just a week, though, and the problem of Harry’s bonds would be sorted and she could relax around him. If tonight’s ritual didn’t help loosen them already. It was a possibility.

He nodded to her, acknowledgment of what had passed between them, and she noticed his eyes had gone a shade darker. Looking away, she focused on what came next. The glow that had settled around Harry when he enacted the Law of Rights blinked out as he said the words to end his calling of the magic. A wind blew through the chamber and took with it a certain tension from the air.

Fred looked over at her and grinned, knowing what she was about to do. It could have easily been one of the other muggleborns, but they had agreed amongst themselves that it would come best from her — especially because she had the title of “Lady” while they were only “Madams” and “Misters.”

Hermione stood and cleared her throat. She saw several people’s eyes widen as they seemed to realize what she was about to do. “I, Lady Hermione Jean Granger Weasley, enact the Law of Rights on behalf of myself and the other muggleborns on the Wizengamot today and in the future. Lex lurium.”

The light of magic surrounded her now, the wind whipping up once more and the tension in the room, that slight vibration, returning. Hermione smiled at the sensation, though she saw many of the other members of the Wizengamot glaring, groaning, and huffing. They would just have to get over it.

“What is it now?” Lord Greengrass asked, his voice holding on to a polite tone by a thread. Hermione almost laughed at him.

“The Law of Rights guarantees that all Wizengamot members have their comings and goings in magic without government oversight. The current laws requiring muggleborns to register with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and that witches and wizards born of muggles stole their magic and must be punished are in direct conflict with our basic rights,” she said succinctly. Hermione could have made it much more flowery sounding, as a pureblood probably would, but she preferred that communication be quick and precise when possible.

There was dead silence and she wanted to squirm at the sight of all those eyes on her. Instead, she stood firm, waiting.

“So all we have to do is repeal the nasty laws for all muggleborns?” Lady Wood asked. She was smiling with a triumphant gleam. From a letter Percy had received from Oliver Wood, she knew that his mother’s boyfriend was a muggleborn.

“That would be the easiest way to handle it, yes,” Hermione agreed.

“Then let’s do that and get this over with,” Lord Peasegood declared with a roll of his eyes. He clearly wasn’t pleased, but he wasn’t overly upset, either. Knowing that the more neutral members were on their side helped. She knew the dark Houses wouldn’t be voting to repeal the law, no matter how sensible that would be.

Looking down to Percy, she was pleased to see he was already casting the spell to tally the votes as Kingsley moved to call for it. “All those who vote to repeal Law 8294-1, requiring all muggleborn witches and wizards to register themselves with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, raise your wands now.”

It was disheartening that 13 members of the Wizengamot voted to keep the law, but Hermione tried not to be offended. It was the next law she couldn’t overlook.

Kingsley intoned, “All those who vote to repeal Law 8294-2, requiring the detainment and punishment of all witches and wizards who stole their magic by virtue of being born to muggles.”

There were actually 8 members — all the dark houses but one — who voted to keep that one. It was sickening. She couldn’t stop herself from bursting out. “You truly believe that muggleborns stole their magic somehow?”

No one met her eye, but several of the dark Lords and Ladies shifted uncomfortably. The others might as well have been made of stone, perfect Slytherin masks across their faces.

“What if I point out that you’re saying witches and wizards can be overpowered by mere muggles and forced to give up magic,” she argued into the silence.

Lord Blotts huffed. “That’s not what it means at all!”

“Then explain it to me,” Hermione insisted, waiting patiently while the man hemmed and hawed, trying to figure out some better way to word it.

“I think we can all see that this is essentially what the logic dictates,” Emily Shaw spoke up. Her sharp eyes were taking in everyone who disliked the repealing of the law, whether they had voted for it or not.

Many of the neutral houses looked unhappy. Hermione wasn’t sure if they had something to gain from the muggleborns being persecuted, but she didn’t care. The laws had been brought down and that was all that mattered. The DA and the muggleborns cheered as a smattering of others clapped. The glow around Hermione faded as she canceled the Law of Rights spell.

“Anyone else?” Kingsley asked just a little tartly. When no one spoke up, he sighed. “It’s too late in the day to begin a trial. Does anyone have any further business they would like the Wizengamot to consider?”

*************

Fleur sat nervously between Pomona and Poppy, hoping that they would be enough of a buffer when her mother-in-law arrived. She had hoped to have Minerva there as well, but it wasn’t meant to be.

They were in a small garden between the castle and Greenhouse 3, overlooking a babbling brook that disappeared into a fountain. The table they sat at was perfect for tea, wrought iron by the look of it, but the seats were equipped with perfect cushioning charms. There had to be a cooling charm over the area as well, since it was quite pleasant right here and made viewing the garden a treat. Fleur doubted most of the students knew this area existed. She certainly hadn’t while she was here and Pomona had really liked her.

“I restored as much of this garden as I could the moment I was free to,” Pomona was explaining. “It’s always been my private escape and I just needed someplace that was normal.”

“Of course,” Fleur agreed.

Poppy was nodding as well. “My infirmary still isn’t set right,” she declared. “This garden is a helpful respite.”

Suddenly, there was a blue glow off to the side and Fleur tensed. This would be Molly’s portkey. Moments later, the woman was there before them. They all spent a moment taking each other in. Fleur was shocked at how different the matron looked. Her skin was paler than normal and she had lost weight. Molly looked old in a way that was hard to define. Old and sad. It made Fleur’s heart hurt.

That is, until the woman opened her mouth and said, “What are you doing here?” Turning to Pomona and Poppy, Molly put her hands on her hips and nearly shouted, “This was supposed to be a little reunion over tea — a get together for grown women.”

Fleur tried not to let her delicate chin tremble as she said, “I am a grown woman, too, Molly.”

“She is,” Poppy backed her up while Pomona reached a hand to squeeze her shoulder in support.

“Well, for those of us who are our age, then,” Molly huffed. Already her anger seemed to be draining away somewhat. She seemed tired. “What do you all really want with me then?” she asked.

As much as Fleur wanted to beg her mother-in-law to stop being so stubborn, she didn’t know where to begin. She couldn’t just shake her and force her to behave. There was so much she needed to communicate, and nowhere to start it that wouldn’t cause Molly to get angry again.

Pomona stepped in. “She wants what any young wife would want, Molly — to see her husband reunited with his mother so that the family can be whole again.”

“But you must apologize to them,” Poppy added, too hastily.

“So it’s an ambush again,” Molly muttered, then glared at Fleur. “I won’t hear this rubbish again. I want an apology from all of you and I doubt that’s what you’re here for.”

“No,” Fleur told her. “I am ‘ere to tell you zat your children miss you, zat Ginny needs you, and ze twins miss you even if zey think zey don’t. I want you to know—”

“A pack of lies,” Molly said bitterly. “None of them need me or want me.”

“You are wrong,” Fleur tried again.

“Of course, Miss Perfect. I’m always wrong, aren’t I?” Molly cried.

“Zat eez not—”

“I thought this would be a nice cup of tea and a chat, but I see I can’t trust anyone at this school,” Molly said angrily. “And they want me to work here, want me to babysit that Death Eater bi—”

“We would love to have you as a colleague,” Poppy interrupted, “but it is essential that you make peace with your family since so many of them are also—”

“Are you saying that Minerva is hiring more of them? They’re not qualified! They’re still just children!” Molly was nearly shouting now and there were tears on her cheeks. Her mood had clearly swung again, but Fleur didn’t know what to do to help. Molly needed to see someone, not just have attempted interventions with contemporaries.

Fleur stood. This wasn’t what she had hoped for and her presence seemed to just be agitating Molly. “I weel go,” she said. “We are not children any longer, not even leetle Ginny. Eet does not mean you are not needed. Please understand zis and come back to us.”

With that, she left the garden, quickly traveling outside the wards so she could apparate away and hope the Wizengamot was done early. She wanted to see Bill, be held and comforted before he was taken away by tonight’s ritual.

*********

Charlie waited impatiently outside the office of House Black. He could have gone into the office of House Weasley and had a seat, but he wasn’t here to see Bill. He wanted a moment with Hermione, just the two of them. It was an almost painful need.

He had heard about the disruptions to the Wizengamot’s schedule for the day. It was a secret, so of course the entire Ministry and half of Diagon Alley knew all about it. He was proud of all of them for pulling it off — and happier than ever that he hadn’t been forced to be there and be part of the show. Fred was much better at holding the seat for House Prewett than he would have ever been.

The sounds of footsteps and many quiet conversations vibrated through the long hallway of the DMLE where the House offices were located. The Wizengamot must be out. Charlie bit his lower lip, trying to come up with an excuse for being there. He hadn’t come up with anything when he spotted her. She was walking between Bill and Harry, laughing. Fred was behind them in a serious conversation with the older man Charlie remembered as Woodrow from the Hogwarts rebuilding project.

Ignoring his brothers and Harry, Charlie stepped forward when Hermione’s eyes met his. As always, that moment of connection took his breath away. “Hermione,” he said, unable to put more words together.

She looked worried as she gestured for him to enter the office with her. Fred and Bill looked at him quizzically, too, but Charlie shook his head and they went on. He followed her into her office and closed the door.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked, but there wasn’t time to answer. She was already in his arms and his lips were on hers, gentle but insistent.

“Charlie?” she questioned as he drew back. There was nothing for it but to explain.

“I’m scared,” he said simply. “That tonight will change everything between us.”

Her eyes softened as she stared up at him, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Charlie, even if the bonds were gone, I would still love you.”

He felt his heart stop and, from the look on her face, she was just as surprised by the words. “Do you actually mean that?” he asked after a moment.

She paused, clearly taking stock. “Yes, I think I do. I think this is going to show us just how much we mean to each other, no matter what magic we have between us.”

Charlie felt like his heart might burst, it was so full. “Then I’m ready for whatever tonight brings,” he told her before capturing her lips again.

Chapter 41

Notes:

We've finally made it to the ritual and I'm so excited to share it with you!

TW: mentions of Ginny's pregnancy
Side note - if anyone has triggers that are maybe not as common as others that they would like a warning for, just let me know in the comments!

Thank you to my team - bondgirltrb, JadeChipmunk, Lady Winterlight, and Astrangefan!

Ron took his turn at the table, weaving the strange pieces — ribbon, vine, and hair — into a single cord. Just Bill and Fred left after him and all seven of them would have had a hand in it.

The strands kept falling and he knew his part was messier than Charlie and Ginny’s tight braids or George’s looser, but no less neat, segment. Of course Percy, though he struggled, had been precise. And Ron was certain Bill and Fred would be just as good at this. Well, it depended on how seriously Fred took it really.

Still, Ron was determined not to mess that up. No one would quite say it was his fault the bonds had gone rogue and tightened too much, but he knew the foremost theory was that it had to do with him not allowing her blood to mark him. Not that it made any sense to him why it would have worked that way, but no one was asking him anything.

Except bloody Millicent. She had asked him a million questions about everything. How the first ritual had worked. How this one was supposed to go. All the details of what they were using. She wasn’t even supposed to bloody know it was happening.

He dropped another strand. Grunting in frustration, Ron gathered the purple ribbon up and tried again while Ginny huffed in irritation behind him. He knew it was driving her crazy that she couldn’t just finish the task herself. It almost made him laugh.

The door to the flat opened and Ron felt the bond to Hermione relax. She was here, probably with Bill and Fred along, based on all the voices. He wanted to jump up and go see, but he forced himself to work another part of the cord together.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Ginny told him. She seemed even more impatient now. “We should have just enough left for Bill and Fred to do their bits.”

With a sigh of relief, Ron carefully disentangled his fingers, got up, and headed for the sitting room, full of his siblings and their girl.

“Ron!” Hermione called out when he appeared, stepping out of George’s arms and charging toward him for a hug. It had a warmth to it that hugs from anyone else just couldn’t compete with. He wondered idly if that would still happen after tonight. He could live without it, but he had to admit it was pleasant.

Soon she was moving from his arms to Ginny’s, a deep kiss exchanged between them instead of a mere hug.

“What do we need to do to start?” Fred asked, interrupting the moment between Hermione and their sister.

Ginny gave him a glare before saying, “You and Bill still have to do your part on the weaving.”

Fred huffed a sigh, but nodded and followed her down the hall. Bill looked around, his eyes lingering on Hermione. “We’ll be back quickly, I hope.”

“You will be,” Charlie assured him. “It’s almost done.”

While they worked on the cord, Hermione filled everyone in on the Wizengamot’s eventful day. Ron had laughed more than once at the stories. Harry and Hermione stuck it to them with that old law. “Where’d Harry go anyway?” he asked.

“Home with Andromeda to take care of Teddy for a while,” Hermione explained. “You know he’s made a commitment to spend some time with him every day. And since we’re all busy tonight, it seemed like the perfect night to spend extra time with them.”

“Who knew Harry would be a dad before any of the rest of us?” Ron laughed.

“He will be, you idiot,” Ginny snapped, touching her stomach without seeming to even realize it. Ron felt like an idiot.

“Twice over if we count wee Teddy,” George put in, taking the attention off of Ron. With a wink at him, George changed the subject. “So once this cord is finally done, we’re going to have an early dinner.”

“Please tell me you didn’t cook by yourself?” Percy asked with a delicate sniff.

“Nah,” George told him. “Fleur was here earlier and helped. All I had to do alone was pop it in the oven. And come on now, I’m not that bad a cook.”

Everyone laughed and George blushed and grinned.

“What I’m not looking forward to is sneaking past Mum to the Circle,” Ron said, repaying the favor of drawing everyone’s attention.

Hermione shook her head. “We won’t have to worry about her. Andromeda invited her over for the evening, too.”

“Poor Harry,” Charlie muttered, but he looked sad.

Poor Harry, indeed. Though Mum had always loved him better than she had Ron anyway. Maybe she loved him more than any of them now.

**********

With his part of the weaving complete, Bill followed his nose to the kitchen. He knew his wife’s cooking anywhere and this was clearly her work. He wondered where she had gone, but he knew she would be back in time to help Hermione prepare.

George’s wand, left carelessly on the kitchen counter, buzzed. Bill already had the dish out of the oven before George appeared to silence his wand and take care of the food. “I’ll get out the salad,” he said, moving past Bill.

“How are you doing with all this?” Bill asked conversationally. He wasn’t sure why he asked, but something about the tension in George’s shoulders made his oldest brother’s senses tingle.

For a long moment, George didn’t say anything, busying himself carrying things to the enlarged table that took up all the space in the tiny kitchen. “I think I’m okay one moment, then I’m nervous the next,” he admitted. “Logically, we’re soulbound and that can’t be undone, but I worry that something could go wrong.”

“If something goes awry, it’s likely to be her bond with the rest of us,” Bill pointed out. His stomach flipped at the thought, but he tried not to worry about it.

“Well excuse me for not wanting anything bad to happen to my siblings either,” George said, rolling his eyes.

Bill felt a rush of warmth for his little brother. Sometimes they were so far apart in age that he felt like the twins didn’t much care about him one way or another. It was nice to have the reminder that he did actually mean something to them.

Before Bill could comment on that, George went on. “And there’s Hermione, of course. I’m worried for her. Something almost went wrong the first time with the three of us and—”

“We’ve had weeks to work on this ritual instead of mere hours. And she’s close to all of us now, not a mere acquaintance like she was for the two of you then,” Bill pointed out. He watched George shudder at the memory. “I promise you, this one is better planned and has contingency plans in case something does start to go wrong. We’re keeping our wife safe.”

“What if she’s not your wife after tonight?” George asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not sure that part can be undone, especially with the way the ritual is designed.”

“But it’s not impossible,” Fred said, appearing in the doorway. “The cord is done.”

“Thank Merlin,” Ginny said, appearing from the other direction. Leaning back into the sitting room, she called, “Dinner’s ready.”

As everyone came pouring into the room, Bill looked around. It was rare for all of the siblings and Hermione to gather without anyone else present. It felt right that it was just the eight of them tonight.

Dinner went quickly and, by Weasley standards, quietly. Talk was brief, all of them clearly more nervous than they wanted to admit. Fred pranked Charlie halfway through, turning his nose into an elephant’s trunk and making everyone laugh. Things were more laid back after that.

Quietly, Bill watched them all as he ran over his part of things in his head. Things didn’t rely on him quite so much this time — he didn’t have to do anything with Hermione — but he was still the most knowledgeable next to Hermione herself about how this all would go. It made his nerves tingle and the adrenaline pump slightly, like the anticipation before going out in the field as a curse breaker.

He missed that. Since the war had forced him to stay close, it had been almost a year since he had been able to go out in the field. And now he would be teaching. He had a feeling that would be terrifying in its own way, but he wasn’t yet ready to deal with that.

Of course, this probably wasn’t the best moment to mourn his former career either, but the situations were similar enough that he was able to see his feelings on it more clearly than usual. He was going into that space in his head where he shut out the things that didn’t matter for now and focused himself on the task at hand. This ritual was going to go perfectly. He would make sure of it.

**********

They landed in the orchard of the Burrow and Fred breathed a sigh of relief that the wards had let them all through. Maybe Mum wasn’t as furious at all of them as she seemed to be. Or maybe she just didn’t know how to change them without Bill’s help.

Each of them carried a leather pouch containing some part of the ritual equipment. They would put everything in place first, then prepare themselves. Instead of just Hermione and Bill setting up the Circle, they would all help this time.

As they trudged away from the house, Fred couldn’t help but turn back and look at it. The nostalgia that brushed over him made it hard to turn back.

“I miss it, too,” Ginny said. He noticed she was looking pale.

“Do you want me to carry yours?” he asked, indicating her leather pouch.

She rolled her eyes. “Please. You all gave me the lightest thing you could. Honestly, feathers to represent air? I can manage.”

“You just look a little peaked,” he defended.

“It’s not about that,” Ginny said softly. “It’s… I miss having a home. I miss Mum when she’s not crazy. And I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“We’ll be here to help you—”

“Not like that,” she said, irritation vibrating in her voice. “I mean, when it comes time for the ritual. Last time I got ready with all of you, but… I wish I could go with Hermione and Fleur this time.”

Fred shrugged. “So go.”

“But what if it messes something up? No one has said where I’m supposed to go, so I’m sure it’s meant to be like last time,” she told him.

“Maybe,” Fred agreed. “Or maybe that’s just a detail they missed.” Raising his voice, he called out, “Oi! Hermione! Bill!”

The two of them immediately turned. “Is something wrong?” Bill asked. Fred could tell his nerves were on high alert. Hermione looked calmer but no less concerned as she ran her eyes over Ginny.

“No!” Ginny insisted, glaring at Fred.

He rolled his eyes now. “Ginny wants to know if she can get ready with Hermione and Fleur this time.”

“I’m fine,” Ginny disagreed, but Fred knew Bill could read her like a book, and Hermione probably knew, too, how much of a lie that was.

Bill looked like he might say something negative when Hermione announced, “Of course you can get ready with us, Gin.”

“Oh thank Merlin,” Ginny burst out. “Not that I can’t get ready with my brothers. It’s fine if you need me to—”

“We don’t. I don’t have to be kept ‘pure’ from my spice for this ritual,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Hermione, are you sure—” Bill started.

“I am,” she stated confidently.

“And so am I,” Ginny added, looking elated. “This feels right.”

“Since when have you felt the rightness of magical anything?” Bill asked exasperatedly.

“Since I first snuck a broom ride, arse,” Ginny stated, chin in the air. Fred almost started laughing. Leave it to their baby sister to have talents she’d never told them about.

“Why haven’t you said anything?” Bill demanded.

“Would you have believed me?” Ginny asked. “This ritual is going to work. I can feel it more strongly the closer we get to the Stones, but I need to be with the other women.”

Bill started to speak again, but Fred interceded, putting a finger up to his big brother’s mouth. “Sometimes it’s best to let them win. Especially when they’re right.”

They hiked over a hilltop and into the ancient grove that surrounded the Circle, a ring of Stones inside a ring of trees. Carefully, they each removed the contents of their bags — the cord, feathers, flask of water, vial of potion, thin ceremonial robes, magical herbs and oils, bowls, and the athame.

Fred watched as each sibling approached her with their offering and Hermione carefully arranged it all where it would be needed. Bill tried to help, but she shook her head, insistent that she handle this part alone.

Huffing, Bill instead began to draw the ward lines around the ritual space, in between the Stones, first admonishing them all, “Remember, don’t cross the lines once I’ve made them or the ritual can’t take place tonight. I’ll leave an opening on the Eastern side of the Circle. That’s where we all enter, then I’ll seal it once we’re all inside.”

Rolling his eyes, Fred took an extra step back. They all knew well enough not to cross a ward line.

**********

Harry bounced Teddy in his arms as the infant screamed and Andromeda called from the kitchen, “Bottle’s almost ready. You’re doing fine, Harry.”

He didn’t feel like he was doing fine. He felt like an utter failure. There had been a nappy blowout after he changed Teddy for the first time, which he suspected was his own inept fault, then while he was changing the baby’s entire outfit, the crying had started.

Teddy had cried for him before, of course, but not this particular level of wailing. Nothing Harry did seemed to soothe him in the slightest. Finally, Andromeda emerged from the kitchen, the blessed bottle in her hand.

Harry offered Teddy to her, but the older woman shook her head. “You feed him, Harry. He needs to learn you.”

“I think you mean I need to learn how to do it for him,” he noted wisely.

Andromeda smiled at him. “It’ll work the same both ways. You boys need to get used to each other.”

“It will make babysitting a lot easier,” Harry acknowledged.

“And if anything happens to me,” Andromeda said.

He stared at her dumbfounded. “Nothing is going to happen to you!” he argued.

“I hope not,” she told him, “but there’s no guarantee of that. I’m not a young witch, and there are still Death Eaters on the loose. They will get my grandson over my dead body. Literally, if need be. I know you’re very young, but there’s no one else, Harry. If anything happens to me, you’ll have to take him, raise him. You have the Weasleys—”

She was cut off by the floo flaring up. Harry jumped. Their conversation had been so intense, and he hadn’t known that Andromeda was expecting anyone. He was shocked when he recognized the voice instantly.

Molly gave Andromeda a somewhat stilted hug and asked, “Where is the baby?”

Andromeda smiled patiently, not seeming too worried at the slight of Molly not asking after herself. “His godfather has him,” she said and nodded to where Harry was holding Teddy, the baby thankfully suckling happily at his bottle.

“Harry?” Molly asked, her voice filled with something like wonder as she looked at them. “Oh Harry it is you!” She faltered before asking, “Are any of the others here with you?”

“No, ma’am.” He started to explain where they were, but realized that would be disastrous. “I came alone.”

“You’re going to be a perfect father!” Molly gushed, beaming at him as she took a seat near him and Teddy. “My Ginny is a very lucky girl.” A cloud crossed her face and she began to look angry, but before she could burst forth with anything else, Andromeda spoke.

Her tone was slow and sedate, calming, Harry thought. “She is lucky indeed — having such a large family there for her and the baby’s father already learning what to do. My Ted was terrified when we brought Nymphadora home. He had no idea what to do with her.”

“I’m sure he figured it out soon enough,” Molly said, smiling. “Arthur had such a hard time with Bill, too.” She laughed, but then tears brimmed in her eyes. “I don’t know what he would make of them now. Of Bill leading the family the wrong way, and Ginny pregnant when she’s still in school and not even married.”

“She is married,” Harry said quietly. He wasn’t sure it was the right thing to say, but he felt it needed to be said. Teddy’s eyes were drooping as his sucks became less intense. Harry smiled down at the baby whose hair had just turned jet black and wild.

Molly made an almost wounded sound. “Well he certainly wouldn’t have wanted to see his baby girl—”

“Saving her brother’s life? You don’t think Arthur would have wanted the children to do whatever they could for Fred? That he wouldn’t have done something similar if he could have? Don’t forget, Molly, that I knew Arthur, too.”

“I won’t be accosted about this twice in one day,” Molly began, standing.

Andromeda just made an indelicate snorting sound and told Molly, “Sit down and lower your voice. You’ll wake the baby. Let me tell you, as someone who lost everyone… nearly everyone who matters, I assure you that it’s worth whatever they had to do to save him. If I could save even one of them…” She trailed off, her expression a pureblood mask but her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Her voice sounded broken when she added, “You don’t realize what you had until they’re gone. I’m sure you feel the same about Arthur, but imagine it had been all your children as well, Molly.”

Molly seemed at a loss for words, staring blankly at Harry and Teddy. Then her whole body began to vibrate and a sob tore from her throat, startling Teddy enough that his eyes jerked open for a moment and he sucked harder at the bottle. Harry rocked him gently to hopefully get him back to that near-sleep state he had been in.

“I know how much they all mean to me, but they don’t understand!”

“Quiet, please,” Andromeda said, moving over to pat Molly’s hand. “What don’t they understand?”

“They don’t understand how hard it is! How I can’t watch them leave. How terrified I am for them all the time. I can’t let them make bad decisions, not when I can see so easily what would be best—”

“You have to let them live their lives,” Andromeda softly coaxed. Harry knew he was watching with rounded eyes. Teddy was fully asleep now and Harry gently pulled the bottle away, snuggling the baby closer as the women talked in front of him.

Continuing, Andromeda said, “I wish I could have kept them all safe. I wish I had locked Nymphadora in Teddy’s room without her wand. But she wouldn’t have been her if she hadn’t followed Remus into battle. We all have to let our children be who they are, no matter how hard it is. It’s worth it, worth letting them live their lives, no matter how hard it is for us to be left behind.”

“I don’t know if I can be so brave,” Molly cried.

“You’re a Gryffindor. Of course you can be. You have to be. They’re going to live their own lives with or without you, Molly. Which do you want it to be?”

Harry’s jaw dropped at the direct way Andromeda was forcing the other woman to confront this. He was even more astounded when Molly whispered, “With me. I need… I need to tell them I’m sorry. Right now!”

“You can’t tonight. They’re doing a ritual,” he blurted. He would have covered his mouth in shame if he hadn’t been holding Teddy.

“At the Burrow? At our Circle?”

Harry knew he was staring at her like a deer in headlights — not that the others in the room would have known what that meant.

“They are!” Molly gathered, standing and striding toward the floo.

“Molly,” Andromeda snapped. “Come back! Sit down and hold the baby. It will be good for you and far more productive than disrupting a ritual your family has worked hard to create.”

“You knew about this?” Molly demanded. Her eyes were narrowed, but Harry was shocked when she moved back to her seat. Andromeda nodded at him and he stood, bringing Teddy over to Molly and transferring him awkwardly into her expert arms. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked him. There were tears in her eyes.

Harry had no idea what to say, so he was relieved when Andromeda broke in again. “The ritual needs to happen, Molly. That’s all you need to know from me. Mend fences with your children and they’ll tell you about it.”

Staring down at sleeping baby Teddy, Molly wiped her eyes with her free hand. “I will.”

*************

Ginny was shocked by how different the atmosphere was getting ready for the ritual with Hermione and Fleur instead of her brothers. While she had been pushed to the side and irritated by all their stupid jokes last time, this time around she was the center of attention, at least when they began.

Fleur and Hermione seemed to have come to a silent agreement that Ginny would go first before she arrived in the bower. It was half dark in the twilight. Fleur had already drawn a bath in a beautiful in-ground tub. The two of them stepped forward in sync and began to help Ginny out of her clothes.

“We can talk zis time,” Fleur said so softly it was almost a whisper.

“Could you not before?” Ginny asked a little too loudly. Wincing at her own faux pas, she explained, “my brothers were joking and talking last time.”

“Zey ‘ad ze nerves no doubt, but zey deed not need to be cleansed and purified ze way ze woman ‘ad to be,” Fleur said, shaking her head. “Eet eez not fair, but eet eez truth. Zis time no one ‘as to be pure, just cleansed and calmed.”

Her sister-in-law and wife began spreading herbs and oils over Ginny’s body and Ginny suddenly realized one downside to getting ready with the girls — she was becoming immensely turned on. Then again, was that so bad?

Ginny felt her cheeks turning Weasley red as she kept her eyes down so they couldn’t see the heat in them. Her attraction to Hermione was a given, of course, but she had never meant to let Fleur know how absolutely gorgeous she found her. When the older woman’s hands skimmed over her left breast, Ginny couldn’t hold in the small gasp or disguise the way her nipples pebbled.

“You need to be more relaxed,” Hermione said. Her tone was chiding in a playful way, in a sexy way that made Ginny even more turned on.

“‘Ow weel we get ‘er to ze proper mental state when ‘er mind eez racing like ‘er ‘eart?” Fleur said to Hermione with a wicked giggle.

Pouring water gently over Ginny’s hair, Hermione massaged the back of her neck as she leaned down to give her a kiss while Fleur continued to oil her skin, moving down her belly now. “I think we’ll have to give her a hand,” Hermione gasped when she came up from the kiss.

“I ‘ave a free ‘and I can use,” Fleur suggested and Ginny bucked into that hand as Fleur settled it gently on her mound. The older woman was still liberally applying oils as she worked her way down to Ginny’s folds, slick despite the water she was in.

“Spread your legs for her, Gin,” Hermione encouraged before she bent lower and sucked one of Ginny’s nipples between her lips.

Ginny moaned softly at the feeling, especially as she did what she was told and Fleur used the extra leverage to work her fingers inside Ginny. Her other hand, finally done oiling, made its way to Ginny’s clit. With both women concentrated fully on her, Ginny was coming in no time, a literal dream fulfilled as she cried out. And as she was releasing, she felt soft lips on hers, ones she had never experienced before, as Fleur kissed her.

“I think it worked,” Hermione said with a smile in her voice. “She looks more relaxed already.

“Zen eet eez your turn,” Fleur said, laughing as she kissed Ginny softly three more times. Sweet little kisses that spoke of mutual adoration Ginny hadn’t expected.

Without meaning to, she blurted out the one thing that was still troubling her mind. “Does Bill know? What will he say?”

“Do you not remember ze day ‘e looked at your bonds? Zere was a connection between us even zen and eet ‘as only gotten stronger, I zink. So ‘e knows, and ‘e weel be okay with eet,” Fleur reassured her.

Ginny had honestly forgotten about him looking at their bonds. Well, she had forgotten that Fleur was included in that. She certainly hadn’t forgotten what he discovered about her and Harry. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I did forget—”

“Eet eez nothing to be sorry about, petit rouge,” Fleur told her.

“What does that mean?” Ginny asked, not sure how she felt about Fleur having a pet name for her.

“Leetle red, because you are ze youngest. And our leetle love eez ‘Ermione.”

As she was reminded of Hermione, Ginny’s eyes sought hers. Hermione was smiling at her, seeming to know just how big of a deal this had been for her. Ginny couldn’t help but grin back. “Your turn,” she told her wife. “And don’t think I don’t know you need to ‘relax’ too after that!”

“Oh I most definitely do,” Hermione agreed. Fleur was looking thrilled as she helped Ginny slip into her ceremonial robes and then began working Hermione’s clothing off. Ginny stepped up to help, enjoying “accidentally” rubbing her here and there as she worked.

Fleur was soon running the oil and herbs over Hermione’s body, working it into her skin as Ginny leaned over to roll one nipple in between her fingers while she sucked at the other. As much as she enjoyed the slow sweetness of what the two had done to her, Ginny desperately wanted to make Hermione scream for them.

Perhaps it was her way of reinforcing that, even though the bonds should loosen, everyone would know she still belonged. Ginny knew no matter how tough she acted about it, she still felt like Hermione wasn’t as interested since she was a girl. And that was going to stop. She was going to prove she belonged with Hermione and that her wife wanted her to be a part of the marriage.

Even as Fleur worked at Hermione’s body, clearly knowing her cues and desires better, Ginny kissed and teased as best she could from the ground above the sunken tub. She considered getting in with her, but she didn’t think taking off the robe was a good sign and she certainly couldn’t get it wet and then go out to face her brothers. She should have told Fleur to wait to put it on her.

“Merlin, this is so good with you both—” Hermione panted between kisses. The next moment, she was falling apart on Fleur’s hand. Ginny kissed her hard as Fleur pushed her through multiple orgasms right in a row. She wanted to make Hermione scream, but she captured them all so that her brothers wouldn’t hear. They were supposed to be preparing for ritual after all, not having a glorious lesbian threesome.

When Hermione was finally allowed to stop, her body shaking from the sheer intensity of so many orgasms, Fleur smiled triumphantly. “Now you are ready for ze ritual. Calm and peaceful.”

Hermione laughed breathlessly. “I’m utterly drained, is what you mean.”

“And eet eez what you needed,” Fleur insisted. Ginny was a little jealous of the way they kissed while Fleur dried Hermione off and slipped her ceremonial robes on, but she was still too pleased with how things had gone to be angry.

“Wait,” Hermione suddenly said. “We need to help you, Fleur.”

Shaking her head, Fleur backed away. “Zat eez what our girls’ night eez for. You can take care of me first. I promise,” she bargained.

Hermione pouted, but nodded as her wand began to buzz. It was time.

*********

Charlie twisted his hands anxiously. He wished he could have brought something to do. His brothers had been making jokes since they got there, all through the bathing process and the robing, and now the twins were rough-housing while Bill and Ron laughed at them.

Exchanging a look of abiding irritation with Percy, Charlie stared down at his bare feet. He was so worried about the results of this ritual. He knew that it would turn out alright. Hermione and Bill had worked on it with the best experts they could find helping, but it could still go wrong. And what would he do if he lost her?

“Buck up, little brother,” Bill said, knocking into his shoulder as he came to stand next to him. “It’s going to be fine.”

He rolled his eyes as he always did when Bill called him that. “I know it will be,” he answered, but his voice was tight and strained.

“But it’s not going to stop you worrying about it,” Bill said, understanding in his tone. “Think of her like a dragon. Your dragons always come back to you, don’t they?”

“No,” Charlie stated. “Most do, but some need their freedom.”

Pausing for a moment, Bill finally said, “Maybe she does, too. Maybe we all deserve that freedom.”

“And if I don’t want it?” Charlie asked.

“Would you deny her freedom if it’s what she needs?”

Charlie was silent. He knew the answer. He wouldn’t deny her anything, but the words were so hard to say, hard to even think. “You know I would do whatever she needs, whatever she wants.”

“Well fortunately for you, I think you’re one of the ones with the least to worry about regarding her still wanting you in her life,” Bill told him. “You know it’s true if you think past the nerves. You two have a lot in common, a lot of connection. There’s the possibility of the soulmate thing. Just between you and me, I think it’s her, too. It’s going to be okay, Charlie.”

“Are you worried?” Charlie asked, suddenly realizing that Bill might be worried, too.

“Some,” Bill confided. “I think I’m being silly, but it doesn’t change the way I feel. Of course, some of that may just be the bond working on me.”

“But it might not be,” Charlie pointed out.

Bill sighed. “No, it’s entirely possible our brilliant wife has just captured my heart.”

Just then, Bill’s wand began to buzz. It was time.

***********

Hermione felt every bit as relaxed as she was supposed to. She could tell Ginny felt the same. And, although they hadn’t done anything for Fleur, she seemed completely serene as well. Pulling Hermione in for one last kiss, Fleur said the same words she had before the last ritual, “Tout ira bien, ma soeur de coeur.”

She then went and whispered something to Ginny that made the younger girl blush, laugh, and smile shyly. It was so rare to see Ginny that way that Hermione was almost shocked by it. Still, she knew this had been something Ginny wanted very badly. It made sense that she was so emotional about it now, especially with her hormonal mood swings playing a role as well.

Ginny led the way out of the bower of trees, leaving Fleur there and leading the two of them confidently into the Circle. Hermione remembered vividly how the Stones towered above them as the wind whipped around and they nearly lost Fred and George. She started to breathe more heavily, but Ginny reached out and grabbed her hand. “It’s going to be fine,” she said.

This time, the Stones still towered, but as she came to stand at the top of the Circle, the others spreading to the points around it, Hermione felt calmer once more. The Stones pulsed with the power of ancient magic in the dim light of the waning moon and she knew this was the right time. Ginny nodded too, and then Bill a moment later after he had closed the ward lines.

Walking to the altar, she poured water in one of the three bowls as she said, “I call upon water to transform these bonds we have.”

She stepped to the next bowl and wandlessly Accioed the feathers they had brought, filling the next bowl as she said, “I call upon air to give independence within these bonds.”

Next, she stepped in front of the bowl in the middle. She stated, “I call upon each of my loves, my spouses, my spice, to share the lifeblood of the Weasley ancestors once more, that we might share it and divide it to be shared again and again.”

Hermione began by picking up the athame and slicing her own palm, letting the blood collect in the bowl. Her wound sealed itself as she picked up the bowl and moved to Bill. “Do you answer my call? Will you join your blood with mine?”

“Yes, my wife,” Bill answered, reaching up to run his own palm along the blade. His blood mixed with her blood in the bowl, and she moved on to Charlie, repeating the process.

When she had collected everyone’s blood, she mixed it with her finger. When she was done, she walked back to Bill. “William Weasley, will you allow me to draw the rune for our love on your body?”

“Yes, I welcome it,” he replied.

Carefully, she drew his robe aside slightly and painted the rune above his heart. They had debated where best to put this one, but in the end had agreed that love belonged most over the heart. Even Ron allowed it this time, though Hermione suspected he would have argued this was a less gross sample of blood. Since he wasn’t entirely wrong, she didn’t plan to argue about it.

When she finished with Ginny, Bill stepped forward and asked her the same questions, drawing the rune above her heart.

Next, as he stepped back, she bent over what was left in the bowl and picked up the potions vial, tipping in the potion Fred and Snape had made.

The blood inside the bowl divided itself into eight distinct parts. And she knew, intuitively, which blob of blood belonged to which one of them. Now she went to Bill again. “William Weasley, will you allow me to draw the rune for your independence on your body in your own blood?”

“Yes, I welcome it,” he said once again.

This time, Hermione drew the symbol on his forehead, where they had once put a dot of her blood instead. She hoped that, with so much more deliberate intention, they would bend the bonds to their will this time.

When they were down to only her blood left in the bowl, Ginny stepped forward, her power practically glowing in the moonlight. She asked Hermione, “Hermione Granger Weasley, we, the Weasleys, share our blood, our life, with you. Do you still wish to share it?”

“Yes, Ginevra Weasley, today and every day, I wish to share our life — together and apart.”

Hermione picked up the cord, the purple ribbon braided with a vine of strelitzia flowers and the magical strand of Weasley hair from all their heads. She called all of them forward and the eight of them began to work the cord into a massive knot, tightening and then loosening over and over again. It hung in the air between them, allowing them to work on it until they were ready to step away and let the words begin to flow.

“We call upon these bonds — duty, devotion, protection, passion, humor, gratitude, friendship, loyalty, fun, intellect, compassion, creativity, and our bodies to one another — to love tightly and live freely.” Hermione was impressed with herself that she had only stumbled slightly over the long list of offerings back and forth. In truth, they gave all of these things to each other.

“We are one family, the Weasley family, together and apart,” they all chanted — emphasizing the last bit enough that it was almost comical — as they all stepped back, loosening the cord to the point that it came almost completely unknotted. Hermione wasn’t sure it was supposed to be that loose, but it should be fine. She hoped it would all be fine.

The magic coursing through her suddenly left, the ritual complete. Hermione hadn’t thought she was expending much energy, but suddenly she was falling, everything going black.

**********

Percy leapt forward as Hermione began sliding to the ground. He caught her in his arms, hoisting her up with only a little effort.

“Stand back,” he commanded as his brothers and sister all crowded them. “We need to check her out.”

“We need to take her to Madam Pomfrey,” Fred suggested, looking worried.

“No, if we take her there she’ll be in observation all night,” Ginny argued.

“Everyone back up,” Percy said again, widening the circle around them. “I think she’ll be fine, that it was just the expenditure of so much magic, but let me check her over.” He gently settled her on the ground for the moment.

“You’re hardly a healer, Perce,” Charlie worried.

“No, but I’ve had some training for it. I can identify problems at least.” He stared at the diagnostic now floating above Hermione’s head. “Yes, it’s just exhaustion from overexerting herself. I think the power of the ritual was running through her.”

“What should we do?” Bill asked him evenly. Percy appreciated that his eldest brother was looking to him as the authority on this.

“You should bring her into the house and let her rest while I make her some soup,” said a soft voice none of them had expected. As the whole group whirled around, Molly stood just inside the trees. She looked at them all with tears in her eyes and said, “I’m so sorry for the way I’ve behaved. I love you — all of you, Hermione and Fleur, too — and I’m so proud of each and every one of you.”

No one moved or said a word for long moments. Then Ron said, “I forgive you, Mum. Things are hard right now.”

By the time he had taken three steps forward, Bill cautiously offered, “It would be good to have our family back together.”

Percy took a step forward. He wanted to go to her, hug his mother and tell her it was okay, but he saw Fred reaching out to stop him, Charlie’s expression stony behind him.

It was Ginny who made a break for Molly next. She took hesitant steps forward until she was almost there. “Am I still a whore?” she asked bitterly.

“No, Ginny. I’m so sorry for what I said. I have been so worried about you, but it was no excuse to say such things about you.”

Ginny stared at her for a long moment, then burst into tears. Molly pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

Looking up, her eyes met Percy’s. “Bring her,” Molly practically begged. “She’ll be more comfortable on the sofa. I doubt it will be long before she wakes and she’ll need something nourishing.” She smiled when Percy scooped Hermione up and started forward. They both knew she was right.

“What about us?” Fred interrupted, though Percy didn’t stop moving this time.

“Fred—” George began starting forward with his hand wrapped around his twin’s arm, but Fred stopped, shaking his head vigorously.

“What if one apology doesn’t do it for us? Why would we trust you with our beloved?”

Molly’s smile melted. “I’ve given the two of you — and you, too, Charlie — the most reason not to trust me. I never meant to hurt you, any of you. I just wanted what I thought was best. It’s hard for me to accept that I need to let you make your own choices, no matter how they seem to me. But I’m going to do better. I’m going to try. I won’t always get it right, but you’re each more important than my plans could ever be.”

George dragged Fred forward at that, offering their Mum a quick hug. Fred acted like he would walk by without giving her one, but at the last moment, went back to her. He didn’t lean in for a hug, but he looked her directly in the eyes and held her hand. “I would very much like to have a Mum who loves and supports me, and my twin, and our family.”

“Then I’ll do my best to be that Mum and not be too pushy.”

By the time they finished talking, Charlie was standing next to them. He leaned down, kissed the top of Molly’s head, and walked on without saying anything. Percy wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad sign, but it didn’t matter right now.

At the moment, the only important thing was to get Hermione inside and take care of her. With that in mind, Percy strode back toward the Burrow, grateful they wouldn’t need to apparate her anywhere in this state.

Ron rushed ahead of him to open the back door and Percy carefully carried her to the sitting room, the rest of his siblings swarming in behind.

The scent of home surrounded him. It felt good to be here, safe for Hermione. He only hoped it was true.

“Can I ‘elp you with ze soup, Molly?” Fleur asked, and the two women disappeared into the kitchen.

Once Hermione was settled, Percy stood, looking around at his brothers and sister. Charlie moved to sit on the floor next to the sofa, clutching Hermione’s hand in his. The rest were arrayed around the sitting room on their favorite bits of furniture.

“Are we okay with this?” Bill asked quietly. “We can apparate away if not.”

Ginny was still crying as she nodded. “If Mum’s ready to apologize, I want her back.”

“You were just saying the other day that you would never—” Fred started, his voice almost too loud.

“Sometimes things change,” George cut him off. “Reality can be different than how we think we will respond to something.”

The comforting aroma of Mum’s best soup filled the room and Percy was glad they were here. A part of him wanted to be mad a little longer, but he’d had enough of that. “Staying mad isn’t worth losing someone I care about,” he stated. “I’ve learned my lesson, and I hope you can all learn from my pig-headedness.”

“I’m willing to give her a chance,” Charlie said quietly.

“Me too,” Ron agreed. “But she’s never treated me as badly as some of you.”

“We don’t have to live with her,” George pointed out. “We’re getting our own place. I think it’s worth letting her make amends.”

Fred looked around at all of them and huffed. “Fine.”

At that moment, Hermione stirred. “Wh-what happened?” she asked as she tried to sit up and Charlie gently helped her.

“You fainted,” Ron told her with a bit of a tease in his tone.

Hermione covered her face with her hands. “Oh, how embarrassing!”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Bill chided. “You were handling so much magic. I didn’t realize it would focus so much on you.”

“Did it work?” Hermione asked.

They all looked at each other. Fred answered, “We don’t know. We haven’t really had time to think about it.”

“Why not?” Hermione asked, then suddenly seemed to take in where they were. “How did we get in the Burrow?”

“I finally came to my senses and apologized,” Molly said, a tray in front of her with the soup. Fleur was with her, smiling and looking pleased.

“You weel feel much better after you eat,” Fleur told her.

“I think I will,” Hermione agreed. “I’ve missed your good food, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Call me Molly, dear.”

**********

As pleased as George was that Mum had come around — and he really, really was — it was a relief to leave. Fred, while he had begrudgingly agreed to give Mum a chance, had to be watched and managed as long as she was in the room.

Leaving had been hard, too. Mum clearly didn’t want them to go, offering all the space in the Burrow, but she had accepted it when they said they had sleeping arrangements planned. George was just grateful the moment he stepped out of the floo at the flat.

They had already transfigured the entire floor into what was basically one giant mattress. Harry had offered Grimmauld, but it hadn’t felt enough like their family. Shell Cottage would have offered more space, but Fleur hadn’t wanted to move all the furniture if she didn’t have to. Here at the flat, there wasn’t enough furniture for it to matter. Besides, he liked the idea of all of them getting cozy.

“I still don’t know how we’re going to be able to tell if the ritual worked or not,” Fred said as they waited their turn for the loo. They couldn’t get into a house with multiple bathrooms fast enough.

“I don’t feel as upset that she and I haven’t been together in a while,” Ginny offered. “It was feeling… tight before, and that feeling is gone.”

“That’s a relief,” Hermione said, walking up behind the other girl and wrapping her arms around her. They shared a kiss before Hermione continued, “It probably won’t be completely clear how much of a difference it made until I try going several days without being around some of you, maybe leaving the country alone?”

“You’re not going to Australia alone,” George declared. “And certainly not as our first experiment.”

“I agree,” Hermione said hastily. “But perhaps I could go to Paris with Fleur or somewhere with Harry.”

“We can discuss it,” Fred said, then with a grin he added, “Maybe no alone-overnight-with-Harry time until he’s had his own ritual.”

Hermione laughed. “That might be a good idea.”

Soon, they were all done in the loo and ready for bed. Everyone grabbed a blanket of their own and made their way into the middle of the sitting room.

“You sleep in the middle,” Percy told Hermione. “I don’t think it matters who sleeps where after that.” He looked around at everyone. “Search deeply. Really think about whether you need to be next to Hermione or not.”

To George’s surprise, Fred stepped back. His voice was laced with surprise as he said, “I don’t need to.”

Slowly, everyone agreed. Charlie went last. He was rubbing the back of his neck as he watched Hermione and said, “I don’t need to be next to her like I did, but I still deeply want to be.”

“Then you’ll be on one side of her,” Bill declared. “And the twins—”

“No,” George said. “We have her every other night. I’m okay letting someone else have our place tonight. It will give us a better idea of how our bond works now, too.” He looked to Fred, who was nodding in agreement. They could feel how happy and content Hermione was — and how completely exhausted. George just wanted everyone to lay down and let their girl sleep.

“Bill should be beside me. He’s been without the longest — except Ginny who has alone time with me tomorrow night.”

“Oldest always gets everything,” Ron muttered playfully.

“You can be next closest,” Hermione said, trying to make it fair.

“I’m only kidding, Mione,” Ron told her, but she insisted. The twins were next and Percy laid down by her feet. Ginny squirmed in at her head, playing with Hermione’s hair as they all started drifting off to sleep.

“I hope it worked,” Hermione said.

“I think it did,” Bill told her.

“Weeth ze two of you at ze ‘ead, I ‘ave no doubt eet worked,” Fleur told them as she snuggled on Bill’s other side.

George smiled at his twin, who was listening to the conversation. “What do you think, Freddie?”

“I think I feel fully relaxed for the first time in months and my annoying twin is talking instead of letting us go to sleep.”

Chuckling, George turned on his back. Staring up at the ceiling, he realized that he, too, felt a deep relaxation in their bond, like they were still connected, but it didn’t almost hurt anymore. It had worked, even if they still had a lot of experimenting to do to find out to what extent. That was his last thought before falling blissfully asleep there with the whole family.

Chapter 42

Notes:

Thank you to my team!

Fri, May 29th

Bill stretched, coming quickly awake, glorying in the sensation of being between his two wives. Even though he could feel Charlie’s arm locked around Hermione’s waist between them, it was a luxury to wake this way.

Blinking at the dim sunlight filtering through the window, he realized it was later than he usually woke, a fact that was not good since the Education Committee was to have its first meeting this morning. He smirked when he realized that half the committee was still here and relaxed a little. Harry and Andromeda wouldn’t be too mad at them.

Carefully, he turned to face Hermione, gently moving her curls off her face before shaking her shoulder lightly. When her eyes sprang open, he couldn’t help but kiss her before whispering, “We have to get up, little love.”

She sighed, but nodded. It took longer than he would have hoped to extricate her from Charlie’s hold, but Bill wasn’t really surprised. His brother was so deeply attached to her, ritual or no. Bill was pleased to feel completely free. He still had feelings for the young woman beside him, but it wasn’t an insistent magical pull.

As the two of them moved to get ready, he noticed that both Ron and Percy were gone, undoubtedly heading to work long before the rest of them. Charlie was blinking at him blearily, undoubtedly woken by the loss of Hermione next to him. The twins were stirring. Only Fleur and Ginny were still deeply asleep, each sprawled on her section of the floor-bed.

Bill headed for the loo. When he came out, he found Hermione dressed already, though she had her formal robes tossed over her arm. “Do you want to grab breakfast from a cafe?” she whispered as she brushed past him to work on her unruly hair.

Smiling, he nodded. “That would be lovely,” he told her. He got dressed quickly and they were soon on their way.

“We’ll pick up breakfast and tea for Harry and Andromeda as well, as an apology,” she decided as they stepped into the delicious smelling cafe. Bill was more than ready to eat and he had to admit that muggles made the best fast and easy breakfasts.

It didn’t take long at all before they were in the Ministry, on their way up to the office of House Lupin. Andromeda, as the “grown-up” amongst them, was hosting. She arched her brow at them as they came in, but smiled when she saw the bag in Bill’s hand. “What a lovely surprise,” she commented even as she worked her wand to seal the room for privacy and so they wouldn’t be bothered.

Harry hadn’t said anything, but Bill had noticed he wasn’t much of a morning person. Besides, he was holding the baby, feeding him a bottle, and looking like it took all his concentration. Bill almost laughed but then wondered if he would do any better. They didn’t know yet if his and Fleur’s efforts had worked, but he was hopeful.

Hermione distributed the items they had purchased and then began pulling notes out of her beaded bag. She looked to Andromeda hesitantly before speaking, but the older woman nodded, looking amused.

“I have quite a lot of suggestions for educational reform in our world,” Hermione told them. Harry snorted. Bill had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. “What?” she demanded.

Harry leaned back from the desk, as far away from her as he could get. “I’m just not surprised, is all.”

“So, what are the proposals you have prepared?” Andromeda asked, fending off the potential for a fight.

“First and foremost is the new Wizarding Society course and the overhaul of Muggle Studies. I recommend that from this point forward, these are mandatory first year classes based on which society a young witch or wizard was raised in. For now, all students must be in one or the other,” Hermione explained.

“Since we’ve already announced this, it is a foregone conclusion that we will recommend it,” Andromeda said dryly.

“Well, there are other proposals as well,” Hermione huffed.

“Like what?” Bill asked, just to move her along.

“Healing and Household Magics should be taught, preferably as young as possible,” Hermione said.

“Who is going to teach those subjects?” Andromeda asked.

“Perhaps Madam Pomfrey could teach the Healing course, especially if she had seventh year assistants who had studied with her beyond the basics?” Hermione ventured.

“And if Mrs. Weasley — Molly — is going to be at the school supervising Narcissa, maybe she could teach household magics. She’s brilliant at them, after all,” Harry said.

Bill felt a surge of pride rush over him. They may have only now begun to reconcile with her, but he still felt the need to say, “Thank you, Harry. She really is. We were lucky to have her as a Mum.”

Andromeda’s brow raised. “Has she come around at last?” she asked.

Nodding, Bill found he couldn’t speak around the tightness in his throat. Hermione reached over and squeezed his hand, explaining, “She came to us after the ritual last night and apologized. She says she’s going to try to do better.”

“I’m glad for you all,” Andromeda said sincerely. “Now, what else needs to change?”

“Binns has to go. We need a History of Magic curriculum that teaches more than the goblin wars,” Harry stated, getting into this.

“While I certainly agree with that, now is not the time. How long is this committee set to exist?” the older woman asked.

“I don’t think a time limit was set on it. Thanks to Harry we have 200,000 galleons to spend, so that should keep us going for quite some time,” Hermione said.

“Good. In the long run we should overhaul everything, but we are somewhat limited right now,” Andromeda noted. “I would like to see the Heads of House be a completely separate job from Professorship, so that the Professors might be more impartial.”

“I hadn’t thought of that!” Hermione cried, eagerly jotting it down.

“What about the Headmaster and Deputy?” Bill asked. “Should there be some sort of clause for them to be more impartial? I enjoyed Dumbledore’s bias, but in hindsight it wasn’t very fair how often Gryffindor won things we shouldn’t have. I hear it only got worse once Harry was there.”

Harry blushed, shaking his head. “He certainly went out of his way for us, but I don’t know if it was because of me or not.”

Bill exchanged a look with Hermione. Even Andromeda was looking at Harry with a clearly skeptical expression on her face.

“Oh!” Hermione suddenly burst out. “I know right now we can’t be choosy, but in the future, all teachers must hold a mastery in their subject, if such a thing exists.”

“I think that’s a splendid idea, though you are unfortunately right that we can’t implement it in the immediate future. Right now, we still need to figure out someone to teach potions.”

Clearing his throat, Bill wondered if Fleur would be upset with him for revealing this before she had discussed it with the Professor in question, but he decided to forge ahead. “This is going to be controversial, and it might be best handled by Fleur since it’s her idea, but she was going to talk to Professor Sprout about possibly combining Herbology and Potions. The students only need to learn so much about caring for plants. They mostly need to know how to use them. In potions.”

“But Pomona knows nothing about potions,” Andromeda pointed out.

“That’s where the second unconventional part of this comes in,” Bill said, shifting under the older woman’s clear gaze. “Fleur was thinking that Snape could go on teaching from his portrait for now. Professor Sprout could be the hands needed in the classroom while Snape teaches. The man’s an arse, but he’s brilliant.”

“Was brilliant,” Andromeda said, “but I suppose they captured that in his portrait. The Headmaster’s portrait is always done at the highest quality possible, so he would have retained his knowledge.” She looked pensive for a moment. “Let’s allow Fleur to talk to Pomona about it and then we’ll see. That would neatly solve the problem and open up time in everyone’s schedule for the new classes.”

Speaking somewhat timidly, Harry said, “I have a suggestion about Quidditch.”

“Quidditch?” Hermione asked, rolling her eyes. It amused Bill how much she disdained the game. He had a feeling she would be the same way about muggle sports as well.

“Yes. I think the teams should be bigger,” he said hesitantly, “And that there should be an overall Hogwarts Quidditch team — that plays against other schools.”

They all stared at him.

“It would promote inter-house relations and teamwork, and give everyone a team to root for together. And it would give them a chance to meet students from all over the world without deadlier-than-usual stakes,” he continued to explain.

“Harry, that’s brilliant,” Hermione finally managed to say. “But I don’t know how or when we could make that happen. It would require the Ministry’s International Cooperation branch to get involved and it’s utterly decimated at the moment.”

“Well, when we can get it off the ground, I want to help with it,” Harry replied, shrugging off her distress at how long it might take.

“I have an idea, while we’re just throwing things out, but this could be for now. It would best be done while we’re repairing Hogwarts, actually,” Bill said. The thought had just occurred to him but he could already see it working. “There should be a common Common Room — somewhere everyone can gather, hang out, regardless of House. There could even be multiple spaces like that, smaller ones for particular year groups or first through third years versus fourth year and above. Maybe space for clubs and inter-house teams of some kind. Chess or dueling teams or something.”

“That’s brilliant, too!” Hermione said. Bill could tell she was ecstatic that they were coming up with ideas of their own. Her quill was flying across the page.

Andromeda was regarding them all indulgently as she rocked Teddy in her arms, having taken him from Harry when he was getting caught up in his ideas. “I hate to stop things when we’re coming up with so many good ideas,” she said, “but it is nearing time for the session to begin. I will report to Kingsley about our first meeting.”

Hermione looked momentarily put out and Bill guessed it was because she had planned to tell Kingsley about it herself, but then she smiled at Andromeda and thanked her. “He’ll take it all the more seriously coming from you.”

Andromeda sighed. “Yes, he probably will. Unless you throw your weight as one of the Trio.”

Harry and Hermione both made a face and Andromeda laughed. “That’s how I thought the two of you would feel about that.”

Quickly, Bill helped Hermione gather her things and they all began making their way down to the Wizengamot chambers. They were in such a rush that none of them noticed the flying memo that had slipped its way under House Lupin’s door and become too crumpled to fly again.

**********

“What’s wrong?” Percy asked when he saw Kingsley’s face go ashen as he read an inter-departmental note that had zipped in. It was on the special paper that meant it was for Kingsley only, meaning that only a Department Head could have sent it. “Who sent it?”

“DMLE says there’s been a threat against the Wizengamot. That if we sentence anyone else to Azkaban, we won’t live to bring ‘justice’ to another.”

Percy felt a moment of fear, but then shook his head. “That sounds like a threat they can’t back up to me. Where’s the suggested method? What could take out the entire Wizengamot?”

“If they know, DMLE didn’t think they needed to tell me,” Kingsley said.

“Well if they’re not more worried about it, I don’t see why we should be,” Percy reasoned.

Kingsley stared at him for a moment before pulling him into a toe-curling kiss. “Sometimes I forget that you’re a Gryffindor and then you decide that we’re going to take on death threats without fear.”

“There’s not enough information to effectively determine a different response,” Percy said, knowing he was blushing.

“That’s true,” Kingsley hummed against Percy’s throat. “But we’ll have to tell the Wizengamot something.”

“Will we?” Percy asked breathily. “They’ll want to protect themselves, so they might hold back the Azkaban sentencing.”

There was a knock at the door, the polite tap of the Aurors, and Kingsley leapt away from him before answering, “Come in.”

Percy worked to get his breathing under control and appear completely normal and at ease as Lady Marchbanks and Lord Ogden came in. Lady Marchbanks looked like she might murder the Aurors for slowing her down. She looked like she could take them out, too.

“Have you seen these threats!?” Lady Marchbanks demanded. Percy held back a groan. So much for hiding it from the Wizengamot.

“We’ve just received word of them from the DMLE,” Kingsley said, his voice projecting calm.

“What are you going to do about it?” Lord Ogden asked.

Taking a deep breath, Kingsley said, “As soon as we’re done here, I’ll be ordering the Aurors to supply additional guards and monitoring as well as tracing these messages that have been received.”

“But the trials will go on as planned?” Lady Marchbanks checked.

“Yes,” Kingsley reassured her. Lady Marchbanks looked pleased and impressed now. Lord Ogden was smiling as well.

“You see, my lady,” he told her. “I was sure the Minister had it in hand.”

Percy just hoped others would look at it that way.

**************

Fred had been in the office of House Prewett, going over the day’s agenda and the evidence for each of the two trials — not that he needed to see evidence for either of the slimy gits — when the memo arrived. Now he was moving through the busy hallway, all too aware of the buzzing energy, the fear coming off the various members of the Wizengamot.

Of course the Dark Houses didn’t look scared. They looked pleased. Fred wondered if some of them might be in on it. Lord Greengrass had his charismatic smile on as he reassured several of the more neutral Lords and Ladies that no one was going to let the threat be carried out.

Glancing down at the memo still clutched in his hand, Fred wished he had been in the meeting with the rest of them this morning so they could have discussed this. Just then, he felt Hermione, a calm, happy Hermione, breeze up to him.

“Fred,” she said with a smile so big he knew he would be getting a kiss right now if they weren’t in the Ministry. She didn’t seem distressed at all. Her face fell as she looked at him, though. “What’s wrong?”

“Aren’t you worried?” he asked.

“About what?” Hermione responded.

Without another word, Fred held out the memo for her to read. It took only a moment for her to gasp, and another second to start looking angry. “How dare they? What a monstrous thing to do! Obstructing justice and trying to scare everyone into releasing people who are dangerous to society. We won’t stand for this.”

She was already charging toward the Wizengamot chambers before Fred could stop her, or even caution her to slow down. He was pleased that when they arrived, the expanded complement of Aurors were taking special care to check every single person before letting them into the chamber. Fred could think of all kinds of products he might have that would scare everyone senseless. Not that he had any of them on him at the moment since he was still on his best behavior, but someone might.

Being magically scanned slowed Hermione down, but the moment she made it into the chamber, he could hear her accosting Kingsley. Fred patiently waited for his own magical scan, wondering if Harry, Bill, and Andromeda were already inside.

When he was finally allowed in — after the Aurors took extra time on him — Fred found that many of the Wizengamot members were clamoring for Kingsley’s attention. Or had been. At that moment, Hermione burst out, “I can’t believe you’re falling for this. Have some backbone! We fought off Voldemort as teenagers, for Merlin’s sake, while you all sat here safe, bowing to him.”

“Now see here,” Lady Longbottom tried to interject but Hermione went on.

“Now we’re going to serve justice — even if it means Azkaban — according to the severity of the crime.”

“But these two have the dark mark and Minister Shacklebolt already claimed that’s at least two years in Azkaban,” Lord Fitz cried, almost hysterical. “We can’t—“

“We can,” Hermione insisted. “And we will — based on the evidence and what kind of sentence they deserve.”

“They’re children, just like you,” Lord Greengrass almost sneered.

“And I’m sure that will be taken into account,” Bill said, stepping behind Hermione, his hands on her shoulders. Fred wasn’t sure if he was supporting her or holding her back from attacking. Probably a little of both.

“As Lady Weasley has suggested,” Kingsley said, “we have trials to hold today that have already been postponed a day. It is our duty to serve justice to these two young men, whatever that may be.”

“But what about—“ Lord Shafiq began.

“Enough,” Kingsley barked. “To your seats.”

Fred was pleased when everyone obeyed, albeit with grumbling. When everyone was seated, Kingsley continued, “I do not think the threat is as serious as the Death Eaters or their cohorts want us to believe. The wards here are ancient and strong. Plus we have extra Aurors on the lookout for trouble. If the threat becomes more imminent, we will take appropriate steps.”

The muttering calmed somewhat. Fred noticed that Andromeda, who was holding Teddy tightly, relaxed somewhat. He wished there was someone she trusted to leave the baby with. Maybe he could talk to Ginny. Or Charlie. He was good with baby creatures. How much harder could a human infant be?

Before he knew it, they were leading in the first accused. The giant boy was one Fred was vaguely familiar with, though he only knew his name because he’d seen it on the day’s schedule.

Gregory Goyle. He was dressed in dirty robes, but the sleeve had been ripped off so that his arm was on display. A faded Dark Mark was apparent. The boy was shaking so hard Fred could see it from the third tier. Goyle fought for Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts, what little fighting he did. He was alive because Harry, Hermione, and Ron had saved him and Malfoy in the burning Room of Requirement.

Had they rescued him just to send the boy off to Azkaban? Did he deserve it? Part of Fred said yes, part of him said no. Goyle had admitted under Veritaserum that he had been proud to take the Mark, but it had also been clear his pride was because it pleased his father and he thought Draco Malfoy would like it. Fred had a sneaking suspicion that Goyle had more than platonic feelings for his ring leader.

Percy read out the list of alleged crimes. Honestly, they weren’t much. Goyle was big. He had been used as a threat more than actually put into action.

To Fred’s surprise, the muggleborn Emily Shaw lit her wand. “I wish to speak on behalf of the defendant.”

Kingsley paused for a moment, obviously as surprised as Fred felt. “Has he asked for your representation, Madam Shaw?”

“No, but I would like to offer it anyway.”

Turning to Goyle, Kingsley asked, “Do you wish to be represented by Madam Emily Shaw of the Muggleborn Coalition?”

Goyle blinked, clearly confused by the question. When he said “Yes,” it came out hesitant and more like a question.

Madam Shaw smiled at him and turned to the Wizengamot. “Review of the evidence, and indeed just looking at the defendant, clearly show him guilty of the crimes he is accused of—”

Lord Rosier objected, “You call this representation—”

“But,” Madam Shaw continued loudly, “his age should be taken into account.”

“He’s of age,” Lord Pritchard said, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“He is,” Madam Shaw agreed. “But how often have the established Wizengamot members disparaged the new members who are his peers for being children?”

There was grumbling around the chamber, but no one answered her question. Fred grinned down at her.

Madam Shaw went on, “I ask not that you find this young man innocent of the crimes he committed, but consider leniency in his sentencing. Minister Shacklebolt declared that anyone with a Dark Mark would serve a minimum of two years in Azkaban. I would like to suggest that this would be overall harmful to the healing of our world. There must be another way.”

“Do you have some bargain worked out for this one, too?” Lady Alva asked. “Like you did for Lady Malfoy?”

“No, actually,” Madam Shaw replied. “I merely beg for us to consider other options.”

“Is this in any way influenced by this morning’s threats?” Kingsley asked.

Madam Shaw rolled her eyes. “No,” she told him simply.

“He should be required to complete a course in muggle studies,” Hermione stated.

“We don’t want a convicted criminal at Hogwarts, for Merlin’s sake,” Lord Abbott reacted with exasperation.

“There will be courses offered to adults through the Muggleborn Coalition,” Madam Bateman informed everyone. “You all should consider them.”

“Where would he stay that would be safe for the rest of wizardkind?” Lady Brown demanded.

There was a long pause.

“House arrest?” Lord Ollivander ventured. “I understand his mother is alive and was not personally involved with the Dark Lord. She could watch him with the help of the Aurors.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a punishment,” Lord Finnegan said, glaring down at Goyle. “He deserves something he’ll hate, not to be sent to his room.”

“Besides, that has been the punishment for lesser crimes,” Lord Abbott mentioned.

Suddenly, Fred had an idea that he couldn’t stop from falling out of his mouth. “What if — This is going to sound unconventional, but hear me out — What if he stays in the Ministry holding cells until he finishes his muggle classes, and then we send him to the muggle world?”

“What?” Kingsley responded before even considering how dumbfounded he sounded in front of everyone.

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous for the muggles?” asked Lady Wood, clearly concerned.

“Not after he goes through the course,” Hermione gushed. Fred could tell by the look in her eyes that she was impressed with his idea.

“And we could give him a social worker to help,” Bee Martin suggested.

“I thought those were for children?” Lord Greengrass interrupted.

“Social workers help people of all ages, though most specialize in one population or another. I would be willing to take on Mr. Goyle personally if we decide to go this route,” she offered.

“Why would you help a Death Eater?” Lady Marchbanks asked, clearly baffled.

“Because he was also someone who was grossly misled and didn’t know any other way. When we know better, we do better,” Madam Smith answered with a serene smile.

“But he hates your kind,” Lord Lee pointed out.

“And you just referred to us as ‘your kind’ making it clear you don’t think we’re one of you,” Madam Bateman snapped.

Before a fight could break out, Kingsley called, “How long do we think it would be appropriate for him to live among muggles with no magic?”

“With no magic?” Lady Bulstrode gasped.

“At least two years,” Lady Patil said, ignoring the older woman, “since that’s the amount of time he would have been in Azkaban.”

“Three years,” Lord Doge suggested, “to cover the rest of his crimes as well.”

There were nods around the room, but Lady Bulstrode was still sputtering. “There was no mention before of him having to live without magic while with the muggles!”

“Many of the people we have sentenced have to go without their wands while on house arrest. Why would he be any different?” Lord Shafiq asked.

“The others are safe in their homes. He’ll be among… muggles.” She shuddered as though she were talking about vermin. Fred supposed, to her, they were.

“He will. And I will ensure that he is as safe as can be — for himself and the people around him,” Madam Smith said with a smile.

“What if we still don’t think that’s enough punishment?” asked Lord Thomas.

“We take the vote and see,” Kingsley stated.

Fred scanned faces as the vote was taken. The younger members, the ones who had known Goyle personally, had a hard time with it, though some of them still voted for a lighter sentence for him. The Dark Houses were still universally horrified by the concept of not having access to magic while surrounded by muggles. The rest, both neutral and Light Houses, seemed to approve, though they differed slightly on how many years he should spend among the muggles.

Personally, Fred voted for three years. He didn’t want to see Goyle’s face anytime soon. Still, he was only slightly disappointed that the sentence passed at two years among the muggles after undergoing muggle studies. Goyle looked no less terrified by this outcome than he initially had about Azkaban, so that helped.

Mostly, Fred was just pleased to have another trial out of the way.

**********

Harry was enjoying having his lunch in peace. Enacting the Law of Rights yesterday seemed to have changed the way people looked at him. Maybe he was more than just the Boy Who Lived or whatever they were calling him these days. He certainly wasn’t the child to be pushed around that Lady Longbottom and her fellows had been expecting.

The first person to actually approach him was surprisingly Susan Bones. “Lady Bones,” he greeted.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m still just Susan.” Harry had never noticed before, but she was really quite cute. He held back the sigh as he heard Sandy’s voice in his head. “You’ve never had the opportunity to be a teenager before, to indulge in your hormones and be attracted to people. It only makes sense that you would find many people intriguing now that you have the time to notice.”

“Not in here, you’re not,” he responded.

Susan didn’t argue, just pursed her lips a little before saying, “I really appreciated what you did yesterday, disrupting these awful trials and forcing the Wizengamot to focus on some of the things we should be doing right now. My aunt would have been pleased, too, if she were still here.”

“Thank you. I’m glad,” he replied awkwardly. He had never known her aunt, though he had always heard good things about the woman.

Looking more focused, Susan asked, “What do you think about Malfoy?”

“What do I think about him?” Harry asked, confused.

“Do you think he’ll get such a light sentence, too?” she asked with a scowl. “Even after letting Death Eaters into the school and trying to kill the Headmaster?”

Harry stilled. When he spoke, it was hesitant and slow. “I… don’t know. I think he regretted it, all of it. I’m not sure he took the Mark of his own free will and I know he didn’t want any of what happened sixth year.”

“How do you know that?” Susan asked, looking earnest, as though she needed to know.

Unsure why it bothered him to share the private moment, Harry still hesitated before explaining, “I walked in on him once, crying. And you know how awful he looked that year. I think he just got in over his head.”

“He still committed those crimes,” Susan said, jaw set.

“He did,” Harry agreed. “But he also saved Ron, Hermione, and I. Not outright, of course, but under the circumstances he did the best he could. He pretended he didn’t know it was us when he obviously did. We would have been doomed if he had identified us, and I believe he knew it.”

Susan’s jaw dropped. “Malfoy did that?”

“He did,” Harry told her. “And… we have to think about what he would be like… after Azkaban. If we sent him there.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well, I reckon he doesn’t deserve life in Azkaban. He really was just a kid when he took the Mark, even if he wanted it. So I mean after Azkaban, he would be angry and broken and even more likely to hate us all. Would that really be helpful?”

“But he should still have to pay—”

“I suspect the Ministry will take most of the Malfoy fortune as well as whatever we decide for him,” Harry pointed out.

“That’s true. I’m going to think about that,” she said contemplatively. Harry nodded at her as she wandered off, looking pensive.

Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about the upcoming trial. Unlike this morning’s surprise, he knew Madam Shaw intended to get involved in this trial, so he had already submitted his statement to her. He had considered giving his memory as evidence, but felt his personal statement would be more impactful since the memory didn’t offer the context of what had happened.

Malfoy had been his nemesis since their first day at Hogwarts, but he had also never had a chance to know better.

The chime went off to call them back, and Harry hustled in, not wanting to talk to anyone else about it. He still wasn’t sure how he was personally going to vote, he would just have to see how the trial went.

As it turned out, it went much the same as Goyle’s had. Malfoy looked awful after a couple of weeks in Azkaban. He, too, was shaking with fear as he looked up at them. The difference was, his pleading eyes looked straight at Harry. If he was going to get out of Azkaban, it would be up to Harry, and he undoubtedly knew it.

With a sigh, Harry watched the proceedings, watched Madam Shaw offer to serve as counsel for him and watched him accept. When she called on Harry to speak, he saw both fear and hope flash through Malfoy’s eyes.

“As despicable as Malfoy has been through the years,” Harry began, earning knowing chuckles from the others his age, “he was always just a schoolyard bully. He was a child when he was Marked and I don’t think it was of his own free will.”

“This is conjecture, Lord Potter,” Madam Shaw objected.

“Sorry. To the point, Draco Malfoy saved our lives — mine, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger’s. We had been captured by Snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor. They thought it was us, but they weren’t sure because Hermione had hexed my face so I was hard to recognize. But he knew it was us. Even if he wasn’t sure about me, he knew the two of them, and it was easy to know that if they were together, the third person was undoubtedly me. He lied to his parents and to Bellatrix Lestrange. They were going to call Voldemort if it was definitely us and Malfoy claimed he didn’t know.”

“But he didn’t say it wasn’t you?” Lady Longbottom asked.

“He didn’t. I don’t think he could have gotten away with that, under the circumstances,” Harry told everyone. “I think he did the best he could. He bought us time, and without it, we would have been dead or worse within moments. We’re here today because of Draco Malfoy’s unwillingness to get us killed.”

“Funny that he and his mother both turned out to be traitors,” Lady Burke said loudly enough that Malfoy could hear her.

“My mother?” he croaked. His eyes were flying around the room, begging for information.

It was Susan Bones who huffed and said, “She rescued Harry so she got a light sentence.”

“That’s enough,” Kingsley stated, even though Malfoy’s eyes were hungry for more. “We shall vote on his guilt.”

It was unanimously decided that he was guilty, even by the Dark Houses, though Harry suspected they considered him guilty of betraying Voldemort. Several of them were glaring down at Draco.

“Now, for the sentencing—” Kingsley began.

“Send him to the muggles,” Lord Fitz said, venom in his voice.

“Indeed,” Lady Burke agreed. “He deserves it. Ten years, at least.”

An argument broke out with the Dark Houses calling for longer and longer terms. Some thought his wand should be broken and he would live as a muggle for the rest of his life. Malfoy’s eyes grew wider the longer they went on.

It was the Light Houses who brought reason back into the conversation, suggesting that he had redeemed himself somewhat and didn’t deserve a significantly longer sentence than his henchman Goyle had earned. It seemed most of the neutral Houses agreed.

In the end, Malfoy was sentenced to muggle studies, followed by five years of living in the muggle world. He would also lose his personal accounts and any properties in his name. And, of course, the prospect of the Wizengamot seat that had already been given away.

Harry was relieved to be done for the day. He was looking forward to seeing the house with the Weasleys. It warmed his heart to know that he was included there, even if the ritual to fix his bonds didn’t work, and he and Ginny weren’t able to get back together, he was still considered part of the family.

************

It felt like the whole family was coming together more and more often, and George loved it. He knew he was the most like their Mum in that way, enjoying having everyone under one roof. He couldn’t wait to agree on this house so they could work on moving in.

Of course it wasn’t that simple.

“A new house has come on the market that you simply must see!” Miriam gushed as soon as they were all crammed into her office. “It was built by muggles, actually, but perfect for wizards and big enough for all of you, even though it doesn’t look like it.”

“Can we see the sheet on it?” George asked.

“I think it’s better if I just show you,” Miriam said, looking thrilled that she had the opportunity. “It’s in the Welsh countryside. I’m not sure what a hobbit is, though it does look a bit like a hole, but the muggles named it The Hobbit Hole.”

Hermione squealed. “Let’s see it!” Harry, too, was grinning and so was Charlie, though he might have just been excited for Hermione.

Miriam produced the portkey and all ten of them whirled away with her. They were deposited in the countryside, just outside a lovely rolling hill with a round door in the middle of it.

“Can we go right in?” Hermione asked excitedly.

“Of course,” Miriam told her, leading the way. As she bustled along she was telling them all about when it was built and what kind of wood they used, but it was clear Hermione didn’t care. The moment Miriam threw open the door, Hermione was gone, oohing and ahhing over each thing, Fleur and Ginny right there with her.

George had to admit it was lovely, but he would have been more impressed if his head hadn’t been scraping the ceiling and hitting all the doorways. He exchanged a look with Ron, who had to actually bend over a little. Within a couple of rooms, all the brothers stopped looking and huddled in the sitting room.

It wasn’t until Hermione had seen the whole place that she came back to find them. “Why aren’t you all looking around?” she demanded, then really took a good look at them, hunched as they were. “Oh.” Her face fell.

“Maybe it could be enlarged to be a bit taller?” Bill asked Miriam.

“I’m afraid not,” Miriam said apologetically. “Because it’s of muggle construction and built into the natural countryside, it is against the laws here to extend the house in any direction.”

“Who builds a mansion just for short people?” Ron complained.

“Well, hobbits are sort of a halfling race,” Hermione began to explain.

“From a fantasy novel,” Harry said helpfully, his smile cracking through the serious demeanor he was trying to hold onto.

As they made their way outside, Percy said, “Hermione, this place is very nice, but… aside from being short, don’t you think it’s a bit too rural?”

“Well, perhaps,” she agreed, though she still looked ready to pout.

“Haven’t you lambs ever heard of apparition?” Miriam asked, sounding just a tad like she was scolding them.

“We have,” Fred told her, “but we do still want to live close to some civilization in case we ever fancy a walk to the local amenities.”

Miriam sighed and produced another portkey. “Well, let’s go show everyone else the other property, then.”

When they arrived in a very different countryside, Fred looked around and shook his head. “I had forgotten how rural this property is.”

“Oh, it only appears that way, dearie,” Miriam assured him. “Hogsmeade is just over that hill. And around a few bends. And across a small branch of the River Dee. Quite close, though.”

Fred and George exchanged a dubious look, but shrugged. Hermione had already led the others inside, so they hurried to catch up. As they were headed in, George did a double take at the side of the house. It almost looked like the shutters were waving at them. He had been certain they were firmly secured the last time they were here.

“Oh zis window seat eez lovely, ‘Ermione! I can see you sitting ‘ere for ‘ours,” Fleur proclaimed as George joined them in the sitting room.

“The leak can be easily fixed, too,” Charlie said, looking at the framework carefully. “I might be able to do it, but I would probably want to hire a contractor since we have the dining room ceiling to do, too.”

“What’s wrong with the ceiling?” Bill asked, his head whipping around.

Charlie gestured to a doorway. “See for yourself.”

It took only a moment for Bill to return. “You really think that can be fixed?” he asked.

“Easily,” Charlie assured him. “And the cost of this property is low enough that we can afford a contractor to handle it. We’ll want the old girl to look her best.” He was caressing an exposed beam as he said it, and George again thought he must be imagining things, but it seemed like the room brightened a bit.

“That’ll be easy then,” Bill said with a smile. He clearly hadn’t wanted to consider them doing the work themselves. Architecture was hardly a strength of his. He hadn’t helped much at Hogwarts, but on the occasions he had, Ron had directed him to menial tasks or something more suited to his talents, like warding.

“I think I would like this room as my study,” Percy declared from down the hall. George moved to see which one he was claiming. It was one of the few downstairs with a door. He was surprised to see Percy had selected the smaller of those.

“You don’t think your big head needs a bigger room?” Fred teased.

Percy glared at him, but couldn’t completely hide his smile. “No. I have my office at the Ministry where I’ll do most of my work. This is a good size for what I need. Bill should have the main study.”

“How can you tell one of these was a study?” Bill asked.

Leading them all into the other room with a door, Percy pointed out the space below the window that was perfect for a desk. There were also built in bookshelves and three cabinets of some sort.

“We don’t know what, if anything, might be in there,” Miriam admitted. “Nothing we do has gotten them open—”

Bill’s hand on a cabinet door had it swinging open. Miriam’s jaw dropped.

“Looks like it’s accepted you as the Lord of the Manor,” Fred joked. The room brightening definitely wasn’t George’s imagination this time.

Inside the first cabinet they found something like a filing system, which included accounts and things that looked important about the house itself. When Miriam bustled over to say she should have those for the realtors, the papers flew out of Bill’s hands back into the cabinet and it shut itself tight.

“I don’t think it wants you to,” George commented.

Thankfully, the other two cabinets still opened. The first was merely an enclosed bookcase. There were a handful of ancient-looking books, but Bill didn’t stop to explore what they were. Before Miriam could demand the books, he closed that cabinet.

The last cabinet had a serving area for the very old and expensive looking liquors stored underneath. George whistled lowly, but they had to close it quickly as well.

“How did we think this place was plain before?” Fred asked, laughing when the room brightened again.

“I’ve showed it dozens of times and it’s never been like this. I’ve never seen inside those cabinets before. And nowhere in the paperwork does it say the house has any sentience.”

If it weren’t for Percy’s quick reflexes, she would have fallen over a floorboard that suddenly picked itself up to trip her. Everyone gasped in surprise.

“You’re not going to do that to all of our visitors, are you?” Hermione asked the house, hands on her hips. The floorboard went back where it belonged.

“Per’aps instead of deciding ze use of each room we zink eez plain, we should ask ze ‘ouse what it should be?” Fleur suggested.

Using this method, they found the perfect potions lab. It would need tables, but the size was right, there were shelves along one wall the perfect size to hold potion bottles, and there was a small vanishing cabinet built into the wall that moved things from the dark room at the bottom of the tower — things like dried potions ingredients — directly into the room. It would be perfect.

One of the other rooms was connected to the downstairs loo and turned out to be a giant bathing pool, much like the Prefect’s bath at Hogwarts. The door needed to be replaced, but otherwise it was in perfect condition.

Miriam was practically beside herself. “It was empty before! I’ve walked on the empty floor in this room!”

Charlie patted her hand. “I don’t recall seeing it before either,” he told her. “The house must have only wanted serious buyers to see her as she really is.”

“Or it was waiting for all of us,” George muttered.

There were still two more rooms downstairs that seemed to be a blank canvas, though George noticed that in one he could almost hear music and he wondered if that might be a room for that purpose.

Moving on, Fleur was quite taken with the Conservatory — a feature she hadn’t thought to ask for. That it connected to the tower — a space everyone had agreed would be Hermione’s as surely as the beautiful library was — was an added bonus.

They moved upstairs to the bedrooms. George wondered if they would have changed as well. As it turned out, they had, but only slightly. The rooms had their own color schemes, each seeming to fit a particular person, with two rooms along the hall that were plain white.

The only major variance was the large room at the end of the hall. While it had probably once been used as a nursery or a sitting room, George grinned when he saw it. “This is the cuddle pile bedroom.”

“The what?” Bill asked.

“The room for all of us, when we want to sleep all together,” George explained.

“Or when we’re getting up to something that needs a bigger bed,” Fred suggested, wriggling his eyebrows.

Percy agreed, “I think that’s a splendid idea.” George did not want to think about his older brother wanting that so emphatically.

Ron shuddered dramatically, making Fred and Ginny laugh, before moving back down the hall. “Come on, let’s look around outside!” he called back.

Harry and Ginny joined him to lead the way back outside. The three of them had their heads together and George suspected that meant trouble. Indeed, with a grin over her shoulder, Ginny pulled something out of her pocket. Several of them, as it turned out. She enlarged three brooms and the three of them were off, pretending to play Quidditch and racing each other about.

“This is perfect!” Ginny called down.

“And from up here I can see Hogsmeade!” Harry reported. “It really is pretty close!”

“And there’re plenty of places out back here that we could practice dueling!” Ron shouted.

“We’ll need somewhere for our Circle, too,” Hermione commented, “but I think we should live here first, get a feel for it, before we worry about that.”

Fleur took Bill to go look at the greenhouse while Charlie excitedly brought the rest of them down to a ramshackle structure that he declared was the main barn. As he stood there talking about it, one of the doors fell off.

Miriam cleared her throat. “Perhaps you could rebuild—” The building shuddered.

“No!” Charlie cried. “We’ll just fix this beauty up. It’ll be good as new soon. I’ll even put the protective wards on it that we use at the Sanctuary so it will be extra safe.”

When they all came back together, a nod seemed to go around the group. When he had met each person’s eyes, George turned to Miriam and said, “We’ll take her.”

Chapter 43

Notes:

Thank you, as always, to my amazing team that helps me put this all together for you. They're truly amazing.

Hermione woke up to the sound of Ginny’s light snores. Considering how late they had been up the night before, she wasn’t surprised.

After setting in motion the purchase of their home together, Ginny had insisted they should go out dancing to celebrate. Dancing turned into a few drinks for Hermione — with Ginny insisting she had to drink extra since Ginny couldn’t — turned into closing down the muggle bar they had gone to. From there, Hermione had stumbled along, Ginny laughing at her, until they made it back to Grimmauld and fell into bed together for some fun before they both fell fast asleep.

The only thing that surprised Hermione about this morning was that she didn’t have a killer hangover. Then she spied the empty potions bottle by the bed. Sober Up. Thank Merlin for Ginny having the sense to give her that before bed, even though she didn’t quite remember when Ginny had given it to her.

She didn’t usually get so drunk that she couldn’t recall things like that. Hermione shook her head. It had been fun, but that definitely wasn’t the night she had been expecting. She had wanted some fun girl talk — especially after what happened before the ritual.

Of course, she could still get that — if she could wake Ginny. Hermione smiled as she went about her morning routine, thinking of different ways to wake her wife. Would she be mean or silly or sexy? They had done a lot of the sexy last night from what she remembered, and if they started that way, they would never get to the talking.

Hermione chose a kiss, a snuggle, and some tickles to wake her sleeping wife, who screeched and started hitting her with a pillow as Hermione laughed.

“Why would you do that?” Ginny grumbled as she tried to burrow back under the blankets.

“Because I miss you,” Hermione told her.

“We’ve spent more time together than usual,” Ginny said, sounding confused.

Hermione said, “Accio Ice Cream” and nudged her wife. “Not having girl talks.”

Ginny’s head peaked out from under the blanket. “You’re suggesting ice cream for breakfast?”

“For today,” Hermione agreed. “Because we’ve had a lot of fun together, but we haven’t had time to talk about anything.”

A hand came out from under the pile of blankets, and Ginny slowly emerged once her fingers wrapped around the spoon. “So what are we talking about?” she asked as she opened her pumpkin ice cream.

“Well… you certainly seemed to enjoy yourself before the ritual. We could start there,” Hermione suggested.

“Not going to beat around the bush this time, are you?” Ginny commented, but there was more of a blush on her cheeks than usual.

“Well, that is sort of what we’re talking about,” Hermione said, trying to keep her face straight. Ginny hit her with another pillow. “You’re going to run out of those soon.”

“I’ll summon more,” Ginny threatened.

Hermione grinned at her and then nudged her shoulder. “So are you going to tell me?”

Huffing, Ginny said, “I’ve had a crush on Fleur since she came to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. I was awful to her when Bill first brought her home, but most of it was jealousy.”

“And now?” Hermione asked.

“Well, I had forgotten, but Fleur has known about my feelings for her ever since Bill checked Harry’s and my bonds a few days after the first ritual,” Ginny said, staring down into her ice cream so that she didn’t have to make eye contact.

“Have those feelings changed any in that time?” Hermione prodded.

“They might be stronger now,” Ginny said quietly before bursting out, “but she’s my brother’s wife! And I already have a wife and a… whatever Harry is. I shouldn’t need anyone else.”

“If you’re looking for condemnation for having too many significant others, you probably need to find someone else to talk to,” Hermione told her dryly.

Ginny laughed. “I suppose that’s true. Maybe it’s not unnatural to be attracted to her, too?”

“I don’t think it is at all. Especially since Fleur is beautiful. And quite talented.”

“Merlin, I noticed!” Ginny snorted. “I didn’t know that fingers could bend quite like that.”

“I know!” Hermione squealed. Then she thought of her night with Percy and shuddered in delight. Maybe there was someone else with magic fingers.

“I know that look,” Ginny said. “Spill!”

“But… it’s about one of your brothers,” Hermione reminded her.

Ginny hummed in thought. “Let’s say his name is Jason. Tell me what happened between you and this Jason guy. I’m sure he’s a hunk.”

Laughing, Hermione shook her head. “He is — much more so than I expected,” she began before telling Ginny all about her night with Percy. Not every detail, but the important bits. It took Hermione a moment after she finished before she realized that Ginny had stopped responding.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, taking in the way her friend was watching her, frozen.

“So this Marc… are you going to make him a regular part of your life?”

Hermione blinked. “No! Of course not— I mean, I don’t think… well, that’s really not how it works. At least I don’t think it is.”

“You don’t know?” Ginny asked, incredulous.

“No,” Hermione said, trying to sound confident. “He was someone Jason knows—”

“What if he tells people about what happened!?” Ginny asked.

“He can’t,” Hermione told her more decisively. This she knew. “The Lunar Tower has a confidentiality clause for all their employees. Marc literally won’t be able to say or write a word about any of it.”

Ginny looked relieved, but also like she knew something now. “The Lunar Tower, huh? So you were really okay with the way Jason treated you?”

Nodding, she said, “I still don’t know much about how BDSM works, or this whole… world that Per — I mean Jason — is a part of. I think we’ve skipped a few steps, but he was in charge, and it didn’t make me feel out of control like I thought it might. It made me feel,” Hermione paused, searching for words to describe the experience, “free. No one was looking to me for answers or to come up with a plan. It was hard to let go at first, but he was right. It felt amazing. I knew I was safe and felt… cherished.”

“While he was spanking you in front of a stranger?” Ginny asked with a snicker.

Blushing, Hermione nodded. “It was… I can’t even explain it, but I knew he was taking care of me, and I knew he would stop if I said it was too much. And Marc watching… Merlin, it was one of the most arousing things I’ve ever experienced.”

For a long moment, Ginny was quiet and Hermione began to worry. Then the younger girl broke into a wide grin. “It’s a bloody good thing you stumbled into a gigantic, open marriage, isn’t it?”

Hermione laughed. She couldn’t help it. Relief swept through her along with the humor of the statement. She had been worried for a moment.

She started to speak again, but there was a tap at the window. A very regal owl was on the window sill, looking down on the two girls like they had somehow offended it.

“Well whose are you?” Hermione cooed to the bird. It was not amused but was too well bred to try to peck her as she untied the roll of parchment.

Inside was an elegant invitation to tea — with Narcissa Malfoy. Hermione gasped.

“What is it?” Ginny asked.

“Narcissa Malfoy wants me to come for tea this afternoon.” Hermione felt the world closing in around her and she knew Ginny was calling her name, but she couldn’t hear, couldn’t see properly, couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly Harry was in front of her. She could hear his voice, but not the words he was saying. Still, when he placed her hand on his heart and pulled her head to his chest, she could feel his heartbeat, feel his deep, steady breaths, and things started to calm.

When she could hear again, Ginny’s voice was high-pitched and slightly hysterical. Harry sounded worried but calm. Then there were words, “I’ve got you, Hermione. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I will stay with you,” Harry was chanting.

With a gasp, she managed to say, “I’m okay.”

He huffed a laugh and pulled her into an even tighter hug. “You’re not, but I’m glad you’re back.”

Behind her, Ginny joined the hug, holding Hermione in a cocoon of safety. Her breathing steadied slowly.

Finally, Harry tipped her chin up and asked, “What happened?”

“I told you,” Ginny snapped. “Narcissa Malfoy invited her to tea.”

“Is that right?” Harry asked gently.

“Yes,” Hermione answered, hating how her voice trembled. “I can’t… I just can’t go back to that place,” she whimpered.

“You don’t have to, love,” Harry answered. “First of all, you can tell her no. You are in no way obligated to see Narcissa Malfoy ever again.”

“I will, actually,” Hermione responded, thinking it through now that she could think again. “I’ll be one of the muggleborns in her Wizarding Society course. I need to set a good example.”

“You don’t have to—” Harry started, but Hermione interrupted him.

She knew the expression on her face must be formidable by how quickly he stopped trying to talk. “I do. These new reforms our committee is putting in place — they’re mandatory. No exemptions, even me.”

“Okay, okay,” Harry acquiesced, “but you don’t have to meet her for tea.”

Hermione was sure she looked like she was about to panic again because he hastily went on. “But if you want to, it won’t be at Malfoy Manor.”

“I can’t— What? Harry, she’s under house arrest.”

“She is,” he agreed. “But her home for the foreseeable future is Hogwarts. I’m not sure if the Malfoys even own that manor anymore.”

Blinking, Hermione stared at him for a moment. “I guess that’s right,” she said slowly. “They should burn it to the ground. And they should make Lucius Malfoy watch.”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other with wide eyes over Hermione’s head but she caught them. “I’m not deranged. He deserves it,” she told them.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong. That worthless piece of dragon shite deserves everything he gets and more,” Ginny said. “But don’t you want to rehabilitate the manor or something? Give it a purpose?”

“No,” Hermione said decisively. She shuddered at the thought. “It’s beyond redemption and there will be plenty of other Death Eater manors to choose from for the things we need.”

Ginny laughed and Harry joined her. It took Hermione a moment to see the humor, but finally she laughed as well. When she was under control again, she looked down at the invitation crumpled in her hand. “Tea at Hogwarts. I should be able to manage that,” she said. Scanning the invitation she added, “Oh, Harry, she wants you to come, too.”

“Me? Why me?” he asked.

“I can ask the same,” Hermione pointed out. “What does she want with us?”

“Well, if you want to go, we’ll find out soon enough. It’s at 2 and it’s already 10,” Harry said.

“It’s what?” Hermione shrieked. “I should have been researching! Or… or doing something. How long was I panicking? This has to stop.”

“Have you talked to Sandy yet?” Harry asked.

“No,” Hermione admitted. She knew therapy was supposed to be good for you. Her mother — she felt a pang in her heart — swore everyone should go. But it was hard to admit she needed it now.

“You need to,” he told her, his voice certain.

“It’s helping that much?” Hermione asked.

“It certainly is!” Ginny announced. “You should have seen him. He knew just how to handle you.”

Harry blushed. “I just used a modified version of the mantra and calming techniques she taught me in our first session. We’ve barely talked about anything yet. I keep getting distracted by little stuff going on right now.”

“I think that’s what therapy is supposed to be about, Harry,” Ginny told him drily.

“Well yeah, but I thought I was there to deal with the war,” he whined.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “We’re not even four weeks out. There are still Death Eaters on the loose and there is so much damage everywhere and to everyone. I’m not sure you can even count the war as totally over yet so what’s going on right now is still very much about the war, prat.”

While Ginny was right, her tone with Harry bothered Hermione. “He just hadn’t thought about it like that,” she defended.

Eyes softening, Ginny looked at Harry. “It’s easy to think it ended the moment Voldemort died. And in a lot of ways it did,” she said more gently. “But you know there’s a lot more to do.”

“Do I ever,” Harry muttered. Shaking his head, he looked down at Hermione again, “So what do you think? Do we want to do tea? I could go without you if—”

“No! We go together,” Hermione declared. “I don’t want you alone with her.”

Quietly, Harry pointed out, “She saved me once when the stakes were high.”

“That’s true, but I still agree with Hermione. I’m glad she’ll have you with her, too. I don’t think either of you should go alone,” Ginny stated.

“Fine,” Harry agreed with a half-smile. Hermione had a feeling that was what he had wanted all along.

“Well, we can’t return the original invitation, but I need to let Narcissa know we’re coming,” Hermione said.

“I’ll get your quill and parchment,” Ginny offered, quickly fetching them and bringing them to Hermione.

Biting her lip, Hermione looked at the other two. “I’m not sure my handwriting is pretty enough to write back. Hers is like calligraphy.”

“Ca-what?” Ginny asked. “Do you mean the pretty writing?” She rolled her eyes and held her hand out. “Let me do it.”

She was too curious to argue, so Hermione handed the quill and parchment back. To her absolute shock, Ginny wrote a reply just as beautifully as Narcissa’s original invitation had been. Hermione and Harry were both staring at her in surprise.

“What? I’m a pureblood girl. Mum made me learn that crap no matter how I felt about it.”

Their jaws dropped even farther at that. Ginny just shook her head at them. “Mum accepts muggleborns, but she’s still a pureblood deep down.”

When neither of them knew what to say to that, Ginny shook her head. “Harry, go put on your best wizarding robes. And do something about that mop you call hair.” She sounded like her mother. “Hermione, I’m fixing you up for this. Don’t even think about saying no.”

Oh, she thought about it, but seeing Ginny’s determined look, Hermione gave in. At least she would feel prepared.

***********

Percy fidgeted by the door of the upscale muggle cafe Miss Penny had selected. She was ten minutes late, but he knew better than to go in and get a seat without her express instructions to do so. She was likely waiting somewhere nearby, watching him. And he deserved the discomfort.

Finally, she came through the crowd of people to kiss him on the cheek and whisper, “You did well. Escort me inside.”

Before long, they were seated in a secluded booth at the back of the building, looking over the menu. Though he wasn’t sure why he bothered. As expected, Miss Penny ordered for him. He felt like he might burst if she didn’t let him speak soon but she was idly sipping her tea.

“You failed your potential sub, your wife,” she said, opening the conversation.

With his head hanging down, Percy replied, “I did, Miss Penny.”

“Just Penny will do while we’re in public, dear.”

He winced. She never called him “dear” unless she was displeased. “Of course, Penny,” he responded automatically.

“Tell me the details,” she commanded. Percy gulped, but began.

It was almost half an hour later that he finally stopped speaking, trying his hardest not to fidget with his tie while he waited on her verdict. She looked furious, but she didn’t speak immediately.

When she did, her voice was tightly controlled. “I expected better from you. I expected you to handle things in such a way that she would enjoy being under your command.”

“I know I’ve disappointed you, but Hermione did enjoy herself,” he offered. Percy did his best not to make it sound like he was disputing her.

Penny blinked at him. “What makes you say so?”

“She told me she did,” he answered. When Penny looked at him expectantly, Percy continued, “I apologized the next morning and we got into a bit of an argument about it. I was trying to tell her what I did wrong and she insisted she loved it and wanted another night just like it.”

Shaking her head, Penny said, “That is… unexpected. You’re certain she’s never experienced this lifestyle before?”

“I’m certain,” he told her.

“You say you got distracted and weren’t able to stick to your plan. Will you be able to do better next time?”

“I hope so,” Percy replied tentatively.

“Hope is not enough,” Penny snapped. “What will be different this time?”

“Well, we won’t be under the effects of the bond at full effect, first of all—“

“You went into that situation under the influence of strong magic?” Penny demanded, eyes flashing angrily.

“Yes, Mistress,” Percy answered automatically, though he had begun shaking now. “The bond is still there. It always will be, but it’s not so… tight now. I should have waited.”

“Why didn’t you?” she asked as their food was delivered.

Percy knew his cheeks were flushed as he waited for the waiter to leave before answering. “I thought I could handle it. And who knows how long it will be before I have another chance to be with her. So I wanted… I wanted her to have a taste, but I got carried away.”

“You certainly did. Bringing someone else in on her first time? I trained you much better than that!”

“She just kept responding so positively, like someone with much more experience, and I could tell she was getting more and more aroused as he watched,” Percy tried to explain.

“Perhaps, once her boundaries are established, that kind of thing will be acceptable. You know it isn’t right now,” Penny told him between bites.

“I do know it,” Percy said quietly. “It’s why I owled you as soon as I could that morning after.”

“Yes. For her sake, I’m sorry I wasn’t available sooner.”

“But for mine you are glad,” he quipped before he could think better of it.

The look Penny gave him said he was going to deeply regret smarting off. “Yes, Percy, dear. I am glad you’ve had to wait, to think about what you did.” She smiled sweetly at him — a terrible sign — and then said, “Not that it will diminish your punishment.”

He couldn’t help it. Percy winced and squirmed slightly at the memories of her punishments. He hated being punished, but he knew he deserved it. Penny snapped her eyes to his movement and he froze.

Instead of any of the things he was expecting, she asked, “How do the others feel about what you did?”

“Others?” he repeated quizzically.

Penny looked at him like he was daft. “Your siblings,” she enunciated. “How have they reacted?”

A shock ran through him. “I…” he tried to think if he had mentioned anything about it to any of them, and wondering if Hermione had told anyone, “I’m not sure if any of them know.”

“Are you hiding it?” she demanded, nostrils flaring.

He paused, wondering if he was. “It has never been my habit to tell anyone about this part of my life. I didn’t think—”

“Apparently not,” she interrupted. “Keeping your personal life a secret is a luxury you no longer have, especially where your wife is concerned.”

Percy’s stomach dropped as he thought through how his siblings — Hermione’s other spouses — might feel about him commanding Hermione, laying his hand on her arse, inviting a stranger to watch her come apart in his arms. He shuddered at the thought. Charlie would never forgive him. Or the twins. He had a feeling Bill might understand, and Ginny had hinted at an interest in kink, but the others…

“You didn’t consider them, did you?” Penny asked. Her tone was slightly more neutral now, more focused in her teaching role than the fury of his punisher. “And they wouldn’t approve, would they?”

“Not… not all of it,” he said in a choked voice, wondering if they would approve of any of it. Could he give this up? Give up the possibility of doing this with his — their — wife? He loved her. Deeply. He couldn’t give her up, but leaving this lifestyle would tear something up inside him. He needed it, needed the release of being in control.

Of course, he had Kingsley for that. He could try to be vanilla for Hermione, become what she and the rest of the family needed him to be. Or… or now that the bonds were looser, could he cope with walking away? It would hurt like bloody hell, but things might be easier if he—

“I did not grant you permission to spiral into your head about this,” Penny said firmly, bringing him back to her.

He wanted to give her a smartass retort, but bit his tongue instead. He was in enough trouble already. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

Taking pity on him, Penny reached across the table and squeezed his hand, making Percy stare at her in shock. She hadn’t initiated such an intimate gesture since they were dating back at Hogwarts. “Percy, I know you. You’re already setting yourself up to deal with the worst possible fallout and that’s just not—”

“You can’t know that,” he argued.

Penny rolled her eyes. “So tell me what’s going to happen.”

Clearing his throat to give himself an extra moment, Percy blurted out all the things he had been thinking a few moments before. “—and once I’m gone, Hermione can be happy with the others and I’ll be more satisfied with my life as it has been.” He swallowed hard to keep from tearing up.

“And this is what you want?” she asked knowingly.

“Of course not, but you asked what will happen.” He was fidgeting with his tie again but he couldn’t make himself stop. He wanted to leave, to go home to his quiet flat and cry. He didn’t want to dissect what he had to do or be punished for his massive mistake anymore than he already would be by losing Hermione.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself and listen to me,” she snapped at him. Percy felt himself jump back to attention, knowing when she took that tone he had best behave appropriately.

“Yes, Penny,” he said, hoping she didn’t hear the way his voice wavered slightly.

She looked at him sharply for a moment. “You will talk to Hermione about all of this and then you will tell your family. They may or may not react well, so you will likely need to negotiate. I can’t tell you how it will turn out, but rest assured Hermione’s opinion will count, too, and if she enjoyed things as much as you believe she did, then she will likely fight for her freedom to try it again. When it is time to try it again, we will bring her to the negotiation table—”

“We will?” Percy asked, shocked enough that he interrupted.

“We will indeed,” Penny agreed, “Since you clearly can’t stay focused long enough to work through her interests and limits, you will receive the same treatment that a novice Dom would get when making this kind of mistake.”

Blinking at her, Percy asked, “Does that include the punishment in front of her?”

“From her, if she’ll do it,” Penny assured him with an almost sinister smile, “While you apologize for each thing you did wrong.”

“I don’t think she would like—”

“We will see what she likes,” Penny told him firmly. “You wouldn’t really know at this point, would you?”

“That’s not fair,” he protested.

She laughed. She actually laughed. “Maybe not,” she agreed as she stood. “Owl me when you know your next time with her.”

With that, Penny was gone, leaving Percy behind with the tab and a deep feeling of relief. As embarrassing as it was to need Penny’s help, he would rather be treated like a novice Dom and be sure this was done right than mess up even more.

**********

Fred was in his element, surrounded by the chaos of the shop, showing off their newest product, the Spork You! George had figured out without him. As much as he was enjoying the crowd, Fred was itching to duck into the back room and work on something.

He hadn’t touched a prototype or even drawn a configuration in almost a week, and it was killing him. So many ideas were bouncing around Fred’s head that he wasn’t even sure where he would start.

Looking across the store, he saw Ginny at the till with Verity, while George was regaling a crowd with stories of the things they had gotten away with thanks to the Skiving Snackboxes. He was happy for George that he wasn’t alone all the time, and happy for Ginny that she had something to do during the day. But Merlin, he wanted to be right in the middle of things here at the shop instead of stuck in a room full of old windbags who thought they were more important than the rest of wizarding society.

Taking a deep breath, Fred reminded himself that he wanted the seat on the Wizengamot, the chance to make a difference in their world. He just also had so much creating to do. Things would settle down after the trials, after a few more long days of setting things right in their world. Once the Wizengamot was back on its regular schedule, things would be better.

He was just turning to take another product off the shelf when he saw a greying red head come through the door. Mum. Bracing himself for whatever might happen, Fred bowed to his audience and stepped away. Weaving quickly through their customers, he almost ran straight into her while she looked at a display of Jumping Beans.

“My Fred!” she cried, throwing her arms around him. He tensed for a moment, feeling like she hadn’t yet reearned that right, but seeing George watching from across the room, Fred smiled at his twin and squeezed his Mum back.

“What are you doing here?” Fred asked when he managed to pull away. She winced at his phrasing and he felt a moment of guilt before hurrying on, “This isn’t where I imagine you want to be on a busy Saturday.”

“You’re wrong,” she said so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. “I want to be right where you all are.”

Fred wasn’t sure what to say to that, since he wasn’t ready, by any stretch of the imagination, to have her around all the time. Fortunately, she didn’t wait for him to respond.

“I know you’re all busy, so I won’t stay. I just wanted to invite all of you to the Burrow for dinner tomorrow night. If… if it goes well I would like to offer a family meal every Sunday.” Fred hated how his heart squeezed at the hopeful look on her face.

“I’ll have to talk to the others, of course, but that sounds grand, Mum,” he answered. Surely at least some of them would want to go. “I can’t guarantee everyone will be available, but I’ll let the whole family know.”

“Thank you, Freddie,” she said, beaming at him. To his surprise, she added, “You don’t have to stay with me, but if you don’t mind, I’m going to look around a bit.”

“Y-you want to look at the shop?” he asked in surprise.

Blushing a bit, she said, “Yes, it’s high time I admit that my sons are geniuses and see some of their work.”

Now it was Fred’s turn to blush, shocked at how much his Mum’s words meant to him. “Thanks, Mum,” he answered, pulling her into the hug this time.

************

Looking in the mirror, Harry tried to focus his magic enough to take care of his tie, but it knotted the thing just as badly as he had. Seeing his predicament, Hermione came over, her nimble fingers making quick work of it.

“Why you think you don’t need me for this all of a sudden, I have no idea,” she teased.

Harry was relieved that she had relaxed enough to tease. This morning he had thought she wasn’t ever going to calm. Somehow, now that it was time to go face Narcissa, she seemed in control and completely serene.

Of course, he also knew her well enough to recognize a front when he saw one. Hermione wasn’t as calm as she was projecting, but he was glad for her effort. His hand wrapped around hers and he squeezed.

“This is going to be okay,” he reassured her.

She gave him a tremulous smile, her nerves breaking through. “I know it is. I just wish I was sure of what she wants.”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Harry pointed out.

With a nod, Hermione led the way to the floo. It was a long ride through the floo system to Hogwarts, and Harry still hated it, but at least he didn’t fall when he arrived. Professor McGonagall looked up from her desk, staring at them over the top of her glasses.

“I wasn’t expecting to see the two of you today,” she commented.

Hermione explained, “Narcissa Malfoy invited us to tea.”

“And you accepted?” the Headmistress asked, surprise in her voice.

“I’ll be there to protect her,” Harry said, bristling that she didn’t think he would.

With a put out expression, Professor McGonagall said, “I can see that, Mr. Potter. I was more surprised that Hermione wants to meet with her after… everything.”

“Want is a strong word,” Hermione admitted, “but she’s an integral part of the plan for educational reform and I need to make sure she understands what we’re asking of her.”

“Molly will be overseeing her for that,” Professor McGonagall pointed out.

“This is true, but… Molly may not be the nicest about it. She’s volatile,” Hermione said quietly. Harry could tell she didn’t want to speak poorly of the Weasley matriarch but also needed to make her point.

“She is that,” the Headmistress agreed. “Well, I’m not going to stop you, but perhaps you should know, you’re not her only guests today.”

“Oh?” Hermione said, somehow making it a noise of surprise and inquiry at once.

“Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott are with her,” Professor McGonagall sniffed. Harry wondered if she knew about Theo’s affiliations and was feigning her distaste or if that was really the way she felt about him. Or perhaps her obvious dislike was more about Pansy.

“Thank you for warn— telling us,” Hermione said.

With that, Professor McGonagall summoned an elf to take them to Narcissa’s tea. Walking through the half rebuilt halls of Hogwarts made Harry feel a bit ill, but he tried to set it aside and focus on what they were here for. He was curious, and now he had to admit he was more than a little bit excited. Could he speak freely with Theo here? Did Narcissa know? Did Pansy? He would need to be cautious at first, for sure.

They were escorted into a small room that looked a bit like a private study. It reminded him of the Headmistress’ own office, actually, with the tea table in the middle. When they came in, Narcissa was laughing in delight at something Pansy had just said, but she quieted when she saw them.

To his utter shock, she stood and curtsied low before him, staying supplicated as she said, “Thank you for attending me here, Lord Potter, Lady Weasley.” She was treating them like they were far above her.

“Please rise and be seated,” Hermione rushed out, cheeks flushed. “This isn’t necessary.” Harry couldn’t tell if the tremor in her voice was nerves or shock at being treated so well.

“Perhaps it is not what you are used to,” Narcissa responded, “But I assure you wizarding culture demands it after what the two of you have done for me, saving my son and myself from a fate worse than death.”

Harry shook his head. “I just told the truth. You didn’t deserve to go to Azkaban.”

“Perhaps, but you fought for Draco, too, despite the things he did. Was it not Lord Prewett, Fred Weasley, who suggested his lighter sentence?”

“It was,” Hermione agreed, “But I wouldn’t have expected you to appreciate that sentence.”

“Well, I do have to learn how to use muggle post to communicate with him, but we’re both alive and neither of us will spend the rest of our lives rotting away in Azkaban. Perhaps his time among the muggles will be for the best,” Narcissa demured. She still had not risen.

Harry spoke up, moving forward to take her hand and guide her back to her chair. “Please, Madam, don’t feel like you have to treat us differently.”

“On the contrary, Potter,” Theo said, “She is very much required to treat you differently. Aside from you saving her, the last time she saw Hermione, she allowed terrible things to happen.” His tone was harsh, clearly reprimanding the older woman, though Harry was baffled as to why it was Theo who was pointing that out.

Apparently noticing his look, Narcissa said, “Theo is here in Draco’s stead, to offer protection — and also censure where I need it.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Harry said before thinking it through. “He’s just a kid to you.”

Pansy snickered. “Maybe the two of you need some of Narcissa’s classes.”

“We do,” Hermione agreed. “I will have them at Hogwarts this year. I’m not sure—” She cut herself off, looking to him.

“I will have to see about culture classes for myself since I won’t be attending,” he informed them as formally as he could manage. He really did need to know the proper way to say things if he was going to be a Lord. “Will you be teaching the courses outside of Hogwarts?” he asked Narcissa.

“No, I am here.”

“I’ll be teaching some of the ones through the Muggleborn Coalition,” Pansy announced.

Hermione blinked at her. “You will?”

“I will. I was approached by an Emery Steffen to see if I would do it. Theo is going to assist, and perhaps Millicent around her Auror training,” Pansy explained with a haughty smile.

“Millie knows all this stuff?” Harry asked, surprised. The girl seemed nothing like a pureblood lady, but maybe that was only because he heard so much about her from Ron.

“She is the Bulstrode heir,” Pansy informed him. “Of course she knows how to do all of this, even if she has chosen to lower herself working for the Ministry.”

“I think she’s going to be brilliant at Auror work,” Harry offered sincerely. He would never say it to Ron, but he suspected she was better at a lot of it than his friend.

Pansy sniffed. “No matter how ‘brilliant’ she is, it is still not befitting of a Lady of her station.”

“But we’re still proud of her,” Theo rushed to say.

“It doesn’t hurt any that she offers you protection,” Harry sharply reminded them, thinking of Theo bleeding on Andromeda’s table.

“It doesn’t,” Theo agreed, probably thinking of the same incident. “Of course, having friends in high places is helpful as well.” He grinned a little, his eyes looking hopeful for some reason Harry couldn’t fathom, but his brain seemed to have stopped as he stared into Theo’s dazzling eyes.

Narcissa cleared her throat. “Please sit, everyone. Let’s have our tea properly.”

Harry pulled the chair out for Hermione like a gentleman. The purebloods nodded happily, seeming to appreciate this move. Perhaps it was part of wizarding culture to behave that way, too.

“Lord Potter,” Narcissa began.

“Please, Harry is fine.”

She pursed her lips at him. More forcefully, she began, “Lord Potter, I owe you my formal gratitude for the assistance you gave at my trial and my son’s.”

He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond, but he knew there was something of importance about the way she had phrased that. Flicking his eyes between Pansy and Theo, he asked, “What is my proper response and what does that mean?”

“You say, ‘I accept your formal gratitude,’” Theo instructed.

“That’s all?” Harry asked, thinking it was too simple. But Theo nodded so Harry repeated the words. He felt magic stir between himself and Narcissa. She visibly shivered, before smiling at him. “What just happened?”

“Magic accepted that she owes you a debt of gratitude,” Theo explained.

“Could I have refused it?” Harry asked, feeling a little irritated at the inevitable answer.

“Yes,” Pansy smirked.

“Why didn’t you tell me—” he began.

“Because it would have been a terrible insult to her honor. And because she does owe you a debt of gratitude. It is not a bad thing to have a magical debt owed,” Theo told him.

“What does it mean?” Hermione interrupted. Harry was happy to notice that she didn’t seem as nervous now.

“It means that he can call on her honor to defend him in the future, whether politically or physically. I suggest that you seek ways Narcissa can help you politically. She’s splendid at planning events,” Pansy suggested. Harry was surprised by how forthcoming she was being, not even falling behind her typical mask of sarcasm or bitchiness.

“Why would I need an event planned?” he asked, baffled.

“It doesn’t have to be for you personally,” Pansy said with a haughty glare — there was the Pansy Parkinson they had always known. “It could be a benefit for the orphans.”

Harry blinked. That would be splendid.

“Wait,” Hermione said. “Would this be considered a form of bonding?”

Theo blinked at her. “In a small sense. It’s hardly a betrothal or anything like that.”

Harry groaned. The last thing he needed was another bond. Then again—

“Would a ritual to remove bonds get rid of it?” Hermione asked.

This time, Theo looked completely taken aback. “It might, but why would you perform a ritual like that?”

When Harry blushed, Theo immediately back-tracked. “My apologies, Lord Potter. It is none of my concern.”

“You don’t need to be so formal,” Harry snapped at him. He didn’t like Theo talking to him like that — or maybe he liked it too much. Honestly, Harry couldn’t tell. All he was sure of was that he was getting sucked into those sapphire eyes again. Looking away and sighing, Harry said, “I’ve had a bit of a hard time with conflicting bonds causing me to be unable to pursue certain relationships I want. We are planning to perform a ritual to erase the bonds I have so that I can start over.”

Was he imagining things or did Theo’s eyes dim somewhat at that? Why would they?

“That is wise, Lord Potter,” Narcissa said. Suddenly turning to Hermione, she said, “Lady Weasley, I owe you the greatest apology for the things that happened to you in my home.”

Hermione looked like she had been slapped. She had let her guard down and then had to face the worst day of her life. Harry watched her closely, waiting for another panic attack. To his surprise, she answered succinctly. “You weren’t the one who did it.”

“No, but I didn’t stop it. I watched as—”

“Stop,” Hermione commanded. “I don’t wish to speak of it.”

“Yes, my Lady,” Narcissa responded. “Please accept a debt from me, like a debt of gratitude but for my inaction, since I did nothing to protect you, yet you played a role in saving my own life.”

Harry wasn’t sure how Hermione had played that role, but he wasn’t to find out, as she did not question it. Hermione merely nodded. “I accept this debt, Narcissa Malfoy.” Her voice was firm, almost cold.

There was silence at the table for a long moment as magic rushed between the two. That was a strong bond, stronger than the debt of gratitude he had accepted. But Hermione’s ordeal had, in some ways, been so much worse than his own.

Of course, he had died. But it wasn’t as traumatic as the torture Hermione had experienced. Was it? Honestly, Harry wasn’t sure. He would have to ask Sandy how traumas like that compared.

After a moment, Pansy broke the moment. “Don’t you want to know about Narcissa’s curriculum?”

“There is curriculum already?” Hermione asked in surprise and obvious interest. Her voice was shaking in the aftermath of the magic, but she didn’t seem nervous anymore.

“There is. It’s based on teaching my Draco, and the way I and my sisters were taught as children,” Narcissa began.

Before he knew it, Harry was listening to a detailed — and boring — explanation of the finer details of teaching wizarding culture. There were so many things, he realized, that he didn’t know. But he couldn’t learn it all in one afternoon. He really did need to take the courses.

He sighed at the idea of something else to fill his time. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful or annoyed by it. On the one hand, he had a lot of free time. On the other, Sandy had told him to try and relax, to learn the things that helped him relax.

Thanks to the Wizengamot, he hadn’t had much time for that this week. His work on Grimmauld had stalled out as well. He was at least still making time for Teddy as he had vowed, but trying to learn how to raise a baby wasn’t exactly relaxing even if it was fulfilling.

“Isn’t that right, Harry?” Hermione said, catching his attention.

“Sorry, what?” he answered, unable to come up with a single thread of their conversation in his head.

Hermione pressed her lips into a thin line, her brow raising. He would hear about this later. “I said,” she emphasized, “that it’s time we get home. The family will be expecting us.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” he agreed. As far as he recalled, they weren’t meeting today, but it was as good an excuse as any to escape.

They said their goodbyes — far more formally than he was accustomed to — and were soon back out in the second floor corridor. As Hermione started to lead the way toward McGonagall’s office, Theo came rushing out of Narcissa’s suite.

“Harry!” he called. His cheeks were flushed as he rushed up to them. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to say this before, but I owe you a debt of gratitude as well. I—”

“Not yet,” Hermione said, stepping up next to them and placing a hand on each boy’s chest.

Theo stared at her with wide eyes, but Hermione went on. “No magical exchanges like this until after Harry’s ritual. And then only if he wants it.”

“Of course he’ll want a debt of gratitude. Why wouldn’t he—”

“I’m not sure I do,” Harry interrupted. He was tired of being ignored. Theo looked to him with his mouth hanging open. Harry had the most insane urge to lean forward and take it with his own. He shivered at the thought.

“Harry has to think through his bonds carefully after this,” Hermione said firmly.

“Fine,” Theo agreed. “Then I’ll just… um… you can go.”

Harry wasn’t sure why he seemed nervous all of a sudden. Maybe he had accidentally done something to show his thoughts and disgusted the other boy? Harry wasn’t sure but now he felt self conscious and just wanted to get away.

“Thank you,” Hermione stated. “And thank you for the lessons you’ve already begun for us.”

With that, they headed out of the castle, though Harry felt unaccountably saddened as they walked away from the other boy, who watched them until they rounded the corner. Probably some sort of pureblood thing. It didn’t occur to him that Theo might enjoy the view.

********

The day had been both successful and chaotic at the shop. George had enjoyed it, but he was very pleased to be back in the flat, just himself, Fred, and Hermione. It had been too long since they’d had a night alone.

Fred was currently sitting on the sofa, scrunched up with a notepad, drawing something. Plans for a product, no doubt. George grinned at that. Hermione was curled up across from him, her nose buried in a book. He was glad they were both doing things that they enjoyed, but he had to admit he wanted their attention.

Fidgeting, he tried to interest himself in the advanced charms book he was reading, information for another product, but he couldn’t focus. Not when their wife’s legs were on display, only partly covered by one of his old Quiddich jerseys.

Unable to concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing, George stood. Neither of the other two noticed, so he took himself to the kitchen. They would need food if they were going to have the kind of night he was hoping for. When he had seen Mum in the shop earlier, he had half hoped she would drop off food for later. Having her soup the other night had reminded him how much he missed her home cooking. He was looking forward to the dinner Fred had mentioned at the Burrow tomorrow night.

For now, George pulled out the ingredients for shepherd’s pie and got to work. When the delicious smell was taking over the flat, Hermione wandered in, coming straight to him to wrap her arms around his waist.

“Finish your book, love?” he asked.

“Mmmmhmm,” she agreed as she nuzzled into his chest, taking an obvious sniff of him as she did.

“What kind of book were you reading?” he teased, not at all upset by the mood she seemed to be in.

“A romance,” she answered, blushing a bit.

“Don’t get enough of that these days?” he teased, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in for a long, luxurious kiss.

Breathless, she sighed happily, “I get plenty of it, but sometimes it’s nice to read about, too. Especially when I need a break.”

He remembered her earlier explanation of the tea with Narcissa Malfoy and the Slytherins. It seemed she and Harry had handled themselves well, but they had more than earned a break. George hoped Harry was taking one, too.

“Are you hungry?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she answered simply, still burrowed into him.

“For food, or me?” he teased some more.

“Yes,” Hermione responded, making George grin down at her. He loved the dreamy look in her eyes as she stared at him.

“Let’s get some food in you then so that we have the energy to feed your other hungers.”

She laughed and nodded, pulling away from him to get out plates. “Fred!” she called.

“In a bit,” he responded.

George should have felt ashamed that he was a little glad his twin was so preoccupied, but he didn’t. He reveled in having her attention to himself. Through dinner, he talked Hermione into sharing the plot of her book. It had been a sweet and sexy one.

When they were each finished eating, George sent the dishes to the sink to clean themselves. Hermione started to move toward the sitting room, but George caught her by the hand and pulled her against him, pushing her gently toward the wall.

“George, what are you—”

“You said he would show how much he loved her, how he couldn’t get enough of her, by pushing her up against a wall and having his wicked way with her, yes?”

Hermione’s voice was breathy when she answered, “Yes.”

George began to show her with his hands, his mouth, his body, just how much he loved her. Hermione moaned and gasped before him as she ran her hands through his hair, tugging at it while he worked his way down her body, kissing where he could, touching everywhere, over and under the jersey.

“I can take it off,” Hermione gasped as he slid his hands up to her breasts.

“Keep it on,” George replied. “There is nothing sexier than seeing you in my shirt.” Merlin, he wasn’t usually this possessive, but today he felt like he wanted to own her a bit, make her his and only his, if just for this sliver of time.

“But—” she started to protest. He ended that by gently pulling her knickers to the side as he knelt and lapped his tongue along her slit, making a meal of her like the hero of her book had done to his lover.

Hermione gave up her attempts to speak, throwing her head back against the wall and moaning instead as George worshiped her. He kept his hands on her thighs, squeezing them gently, using only his mouth to bring her closer and closer to losing herself.

When she fell apart for him, George didn’t let up until her knees buckled and her body began sliding down the wall. He quickly moved from between her legs, catching her quivering body in his strong arms. He held her tight, pressing her again between himself and the wall to help hold her up.

“Don’t fall on me, love,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Maybe she could fall on your cock,” Fred commented. He was sitting at the dining table eating his helping of the shepherd’s pie. He had to have gone right past them and George had never noticed. Based on her look of surprise, neither had Hermione.

She was struggling for equilibrium after losing herself so thoroughly, but Hermione managed to ask, “Are you angry with us?”

Pausing for a moment, George knew his twin was thinking hard about it. “No, though if you’re not going to fall on his cock, come take care of mine. That was quite a show.”

It seemed Hermione wasn’t sure how to respond, but then she was laughing and turned to look at him, love and adoration in her eyes. “Do you want me on your cock?”

“What kind of question is that?” George asked. “Always.” He felt guilty for not sending her over to Fred when he had already gotten a taste of her, but not guilty enough to avoid temptation.

This time, he removed her knickers, sliding them down those gorgeous legs before pocketing them, despite Hermione’s protests. He still left the jersey, of course, even as his own trousers and pants were discarded on the floor.

Leaning in to kiss her, hitching her body between himself and the wall, George started to line himself up.

“Right here?” she asked, her eyes glancing over to Fred.

“He doesn’t seem to have had a problem with watching so far,” George noted. “What do you think, Twin-O-Mine? Should I take this somewhere else or continue showing her I love her every bit as much as the bloke in those dirty novels she reads loves his girl?”

“Definitely show it all right here,” Fred said with a grin. “But you best hurry. When I’m done eating, I’m joining you.”

With that encouragement, George didn’t hold back. He kissed her as he slowly breached her body, impaling her between himself and the wall. Her breathing was coming in gasps, but she wasn’t moaning like he wanted her to be. Using one hand for leverage against the wall and the other firmly holding her arse and pulling it closer, he began to push hard inside her, knowing this was hitting her at a perfect angle.

Now she was making the sounds George wanted to hear. He slammed into her over and over, thankful that Fred was taking his sweet time, watching instead of joining them for once. Usually he was the one who liked to watch, but tonight, George wanted her body to belong to him first.

His pace began to get erratic as the slide of her hot, tight body around his cock felt better and better with her quivering around him. She was so close, he could feel her starting to squeeze him, so he moved a hand for just a moment, thumbing her clit and throwing her over the edge.

Hermione moaned so loudly it was almost a scream this time, and George loved to hear it. The sound went straight to his cock and he lost his battle to hold back. He kissed the column of her neck as he pumped the last few strokes into her.

Collapsing against her, still pinning her to the wall, George kissed Hermione some more. He just could not get enough of her tonight. “Did that compare to your book?” he whispered against her lips.

“Merlin, yes,” she said, still trying to catch her breath.

“Next time, I can read it to you while you sit in my lap and we work on what they’re doing. What do you think of that?” he whispered in her ear. George reveled in the way she shuddered.

“Yes,” she whimpered, but any further response was cut off.

“I think it’s my turn,” Fred declared as he moved their way. “Hermione, listening to your sweet moans has me in a very hard situation.”

She smiled at him as George released her and stepped back. He wasn’t sure if he was in the mood to watch tonight or not. Then his brother had her hand in his, leading her to the sitting room and George found himself following.

Fred sat down on the sofa, spreading his legs as he pulled Hermione to stand between them. Without being asked, Hermione went down on her knees, pulling Fred’s cock out of his pants and almost instantly popping it in her mouth. George imagined the warm, wet feel of her mouth around his own cock as he watched her rock Fred’s world.

He was hard again in no time, stroking himself by the time Fred came. He gave them no time to recover before George joined her on the floor. His hand cupped her sex, feeling the heat of it, the desire and need having built up again already. One finger worked its way inside her as Hermione leaned forward, her head still in Fred’s lap, and groaned.

“Let me kiss those sounds away,” Fred implored and Hermione obliged him, leaning up as he leaned down.

George inserted another finger and another until she was stretched wide around three. Then he moved his hand, wriggling the fingers until she was right on the edge before withdrawing them. “Did you like that?” he asked.

Fred was still keeping her too busy for Hermione to answer, but he could tell from her squirming that she in fact loved and did not appreciate that one bit. George grinned as he took his slick fingers and began running them over the rosebud of her arse. Hermione squirmed harder, pushing her arse back toward his hand in invitation.

Looking up, George’s eyes met Fred’s for a moment, speaking together in their silent way before Fred finally pulled the jersey off Hermione, delighting in playing with her breasts as he continued to kiss and distract her.

Meanwhile, George began to work his finger inside her, casting a lubrication spell in addition to the use of her own slick juices. By the time he had two fingers in, Hermione was moaning for him. Apparently, Fred was ready again, too, because he let George know he was going to move Hermione to his lap.

They would need to adjust the height of the sofa a bit for George to comfortably bugger her, but that was no trouble. He transfigured it with a quick wave of his wand as Fred pulled her up onto his lap.

“Are you ready to be between the two of us again?” Fred asked her.

“Merlin, yes,” Hermione whimpered.

“You want my cock right in here?” Fred asked, teasing her entrance while his other finger ran up to circle her clit.

“Yes,” she begged.

“And you want me to put my cock right here while he’s in there?” George asked as he pressed the tip of his cock to her arse.

“Please,” she cried, “both of you!”

Fred and George exchanged a grin over her shoulder and Fred lifted her so that she could sink down on his cock. George waited until she was settled, with Fred fully seated inside before he pushed her forward to lean against Fred’s chest as he worked his way inside her.

In this position, he couldn’t get all the way in, but George didn’t mind. This was enough. Merlin, he was ready to come already.

“So full,” Hermione was whimpering. And then they began to pull out and push back in. She didn’t last 30 seconds before she was coming around their cocks.

Thanks to their earlier exploits, George was happy to see that he and his brother were both able to push through even with the vice grip her body had on them through her orgasm. They continued pushing and pulling and putting Hermione through orgasm after orgasm until she was gasping, “Enough, please. It’s too good.”

The twins’ eyes met and they both let go on her next release, coming with her before George gently withdrew and Fred slipped his softening cock from her pussy. She collapsed against his chest as George waved his wand and cleaned them all. He settled on the sofa near the other two, unbothered by the fact that Hermione was clinging to Fred for the moment.

George’s momentary possessiveness seemed to have melted away. He was happy to see the soft joy on his twin’s face as he caressed Hermione’s back, thrilled by the loving look in Hermione’s eyes as she stared first at George and then up at Fred.

“I can’t believe I’m this lucky,” Hermione sighed.

Meeting Fred’s eyes for only a moment, it was George who said, “Believe me, we feel exactly the same way.”

Chapter 44

Notes:

Thank you to my incredible team for helping me with this chapter.

This is a muggleborn heavy chapter, so please refer to the end notes for my thanks to various individuals who gave me new characters to use.

Hermione barely made it through the door on time as the second official meeting of the Muggleborn Coalition was called to order. She rushed to take a seat, finding herself next to two men she didn’t know. They were older gentlemen, holding hands and paying her no attention since they were watching a woman she didn’t know at the podium.

Behind the woman, Emery was looking frazzled, shifting papers and, when she caught Hermione’s eyes, seeming to try to send some sort of message.

“Thank you all for coming today,” the woman at the podium began. “As most of you know, we voted on a lot of things last time, including leadership for the group. Hermione Granger-Weasley?”

Hermione startled. She stood, but didn’t move. “I’m here,” she said, not meaning for her voice to sound as wary as it did.

“Please come to the front,” the woman asked, her tone that of an enthusiastic command.

Unsure of what she had done, Hermione made her way to the front of the room, uncomfortable with the way every eye was trained on her. Before she could ask anything, the woman announced, “As the founding mind behind our Coalition, we want to thank you, Hermione. It’s so lovely to meet you! I’m Davina Appleton, a fellow Gryffindor, of course.”

“Of course,” Hermione replied, “it’s lovely to meet you, too.” She just couldn’t figure out why she was doing it up in front of everyone.

“I’m the Treasurer you’ll be working with,” Davina explained excitedly. “We know you were busy with your Wizengamot duties and unable to attend the second half of our first meeting, but you were voted President!”

“No,” Hermione said abruptly, but no one heard her over the thunderous applause. Clearing her throat, Hermione said more loudly, “No. You’ll need to re-vote.”

Davina’s smile slid off her face. “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, Hermione shook her head. “This group is so needed, and there is so much work to be done, that it needs someone who can fully dedicate themselves to the position. I am already on the Wizengamot and attending Hogwarts in the fall, plus my duties to my family.”

“Slagging yourself to the purebloods, you mean,” a man said, though they weren’t brave enough to show themselves.

“Bending over for that many of them would take a lot of time,” came an older voice.

“At least they’re blood traitors,” said someone else.

Hermione felt like someone had slapped her. She expected people to ridicule her on the streets, to talk poorly of their choice to use the family magic as they had, but she hadn’t expected it here. She had wanted to believe that the muggleborns, such victims of the blood purity beliefs, wouldn’t be so prejudiced.

“My family is none of your concern,” she snapped. “But since you are so concerned that I am part of a pureblood family, perhaps I wasn’t the best choice as President to begin with.”

“Don’t say that, Hermione!” Ehlara said, stepping up out of the audience. “This whole organization was your brilliant idea, and so many of the things on our official agenda came from you.”

“While this is true, I did warn you all she wouldn’t want—” Emery began before being cut off.

“Then who will be our President?” a witch in a suit demanded. “It took us forever to vote last time, even with it obvious we would vote her in.” She nodded in Hermione’s direction, obviously not her biggest fan, but not saying anything overtly hostile.

“Were there any others you voted on?” Hermione asked. She didn’t want to take over, but everyone seemed at a loss. Emery wouldn’t want the position. She had been very insistent when Hermione met her that she considered her talents to fall into more of a supportive role. She was superb at it.

“There were others who were interested,” Davina admitted.

“Did you have them come up and talk about where they see things going for the organization? Sort of like the candidates for the Wizengamot did?” Hermione asked.

No one quite met her eyes. “No,” the witch in the suit said. “They had already decided it would be you, and they had a majority.”

“Let’s do this like the Wizengamot voting, then,” Hermione suggested. She wasn’t sure if she was grateful or annoyed when no one argued with her. She certainly was happy that no one else had called her a whore for being with her spice. A small line quickly formed.

The woman in the suit was the first to move forward. She was younger than Hermione would have expected, probably about Percy’s age. “My name is Keri Sullivan. I was sorted into Slytherin the year after Voldemort was defeated the first time.”

There were gasps of shock throughout the room at that. Had anyone even realized there was a muggleborn Slytherin in existence?

Keri smirked. “I got by pretending to be a half-blood who was raised muggle, but it wasn’t easy. I’m a survivor and I know how to make strategic plans and implement them. I work in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes on the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.”

Hermione started to ask her what her plans for the Coalition would be, but it was too late. The next person had already stepped up to the podium.

“Rory Jones here,” they started abruptly. Hermione perked up, realizing she had corresponded with them. “I’m a scientist in the muggle world, have been since I graduated Hogwarts back in ‘77. I love magic, of course, but I couldn’t forget seeing a man on the moon on the telly. Hell, I couldn’t forget about tellies. I want to bring the wizarding world into the 20th century, and I think all of us banding together could do it. I would be honored to lead the way into that future.”

“How would you do that?” Hermione asked.

For a moment, Rory looked uncomfortable, biting their lip and clearly gathering their thoughts for a moment. Then they said, “I think the educational reforms you’ve begun are a wonderful first step. We don’t have much time to get things rolling, but I would like to offer all available resources to Mrs. Cattermole who will be teaching Muggle Studies at Hogwarts. We have been coordinating together and getting people lined up to come in and demonstrate muggle science, industry, and other concepts that the wizarding world doesn’t have. I think we should extend these classes to the community, and we already have some mandatory learners who will be coming to us.”

Hermione clapped, thrilled with what she was hearing. It hadn’t occurred to her that Muggle Studies could bring in experts to broaden horizons even more. Others joined her in applauding the strides Rory was already making.

A wiry man with the darkest skin Hermione had ever seen stepped up next. Hermione couldn’t help but feel he had a good energy and liked him instantly. “Hello,” he greeted nervously. “I’m not sure I should be up here. I’ve been out of the wizarding world for some time. I’m a muggle pediatrician, you see. I did some training with Madam Pomfrey back in the day as well, but never went on to St. Mungo’s. I use magic on muggles every day — they’re none the wiser and I can help so many people. I want to see this organization foster more cooperation between the muggle and magical world.”

He started to walk down but someone called out, “What’s your name?”

The man laughed. “Sorry. I’m Jon Buchanan.” People laughed with him, but Hermione didn’t get the impression they were sold on him as President. Truth be told, neither was she, but she could see how useful he might be to know once they were trying to reach out to young muggleborn families. A pediatrician was someone they would trust.

The next man was one of the two who had been sitting next to her when she first walked in. He was older, probably in his 50s or early 60s, but his hair was still vibrantly blond over blue eyes. He was an attractive man and he clearly knew it, but his eyes were only for his partner in the back of the room.

“My name is Jasper Harris,” he introduced. “My husband Felix and I have owned and operated a florist shop in the muggle world for several years now, since we got fed up with how backwards the wizarding world is. We go to a lot of protests in their world, and I know the kind of rights people want and need and would be happy to fight for them in this world, as well. Felix does most of the flower arranging in our shop — I’m better with the books and organization side of things. I believe I could organize this coalition and get us moving smoothly and efficiently.”

There was a lot of applause. It reminded Hermione of the reaction to Joe Smith and how easily he had made it into a Wizengamot seat. He was doing a fine job there, of course, but she wasn’t sure popularity should win things like this. Jasper seemed nice, but she wasn’t convinced he would be the best suited to being President.

The last person in the line stepped up. She was middle-aged, with blonde hair, wearing robes from St. Mungo’s. She immediately commanded a sense of respect. “I’m Cissalay Jones. As you can see,” she gestured down at herself, “I’m a Healer. I didn’t go into hiding during the war and I paid the price. Both of my children were murdered by Death Eaters. My husband and I were tortured — as if seeing them killed wasn’t torture enough.” Her eyes met those of a man in the audience, presumably her husband as he had tears in his eyes. “Roger and I have considered leaving the wizarding world, but if things could change, if we could lead the way into reforms that would relieve the world of blood purity beliefs, then we would do it.”

“How would you do it?” Hermione asked before she could stop herself.

“As has been stated, the educational changes are a wonderful start. I also think there should be a program to contact scientists and physicians to help with problems like fertility issues and rare diseases that we don’t yet have solutions to; mental health providers as the wizarding world has no equivalent; social workers since they are very needed and it will be years before we can properly train people; technology like phones and tellies — there has to be some way to make these work in the wizarding world. I agree with the previously mentioned goals of contacting muggleborn children much younger. And for magical children without loving families to care for them, muggleborn or otherwise, we should have foster and adoption programs within the wizarding world. No little wizard or witch should ever have to grow up in a muggle orphanage or be raised by parents who abuse them for being different.”

She looked like she might go on, but Davina stepped forward. “That all sounds excellent. I think it’s time to call the vote.”

Young Rowan, Emery’s assistant, cast the tally spell and the votes were taken. Hermione was irritated when Cissalay, her favorite for the position, lost to Jasper. He would undoubtedly be a good leader, too, but Cissalay had so many good ideas.

Luckily, she wasn’t the only one who had noticed. To Hermione’s surprise, Jasper began his acceptance speech by declaring Cissalay as his Vice-President if she would accept, which she did. Hermione was pleased that they took over the meeting and she was allowed to go back to her seat, though it was handy to have been at the front of the room where she could spot everyone she needed to speak with.

With the election out of the way, they moved on to a discussion of the most pressing issue — teachers for Adult Muggle Studies. In the end, a team was put together, headed by an older witch named Lilah Hess who seemed to be a quintessential hippie. She had been a muggle primary school teacher for most of her life and in a voice that reminded Hermione of Luna, she had let them all know that she was the best at teaching manners and proper muggle behavior. Her team would include Rory Jones who had just spoken, a young woman named Halina who had worked in Muggle Relations within the Ministry before it fell, and Cassius Williams, an Irish arithmancer who had studied muggle maths as well and worked in both worlds.

Renee Smith stood next and reported on everything that had happened so far in the Wizengamot. Hearing it all together, Hermione was proud. She hadn’t felt like they were accomplishing much, but the day they had invoked the Law of Rights had helped a lot.

Everyone cheered at the news that the Muggleborn Registration Law had been revoked, even though they had all known already from the Daily Prophet. It was worth celebrating together. As the formal part of the meeting drew to a close, Daniel the baker passed cake around as everyone discussed it and the other laws that had passed.

A young woman named Etta Faye spoke passionately about how much it would mean to the antiques business she owned before being dragged aside by Lilah for a discussion of those antiques.

“Even Flourish and Blotts will benefit after the things the Death Eaters did to our store,” Jo Wright said.

“The Death Eaters attacked Flourish and Blotts?” Hermione asked, surprised that they would attack Lord Blotts’ store considering his own leanings.

“They attacked everything. I’ve been an employee there for years and—”

Hermione was at least passingly familiar with Jo, considering the amount of time she spent in that store. Though, after meeting Lord Blotts, she was strongly considering finding another store to frequent. But it hadn’t been until this meeting that she had realized Jo’s blood status. Without thinking, she blurted out, “I’m surprised Lord Blotts would employ a muggleborn.”

“Oh, I’m certain he doesn’t know,” Jo said, face dark. “The manager is wonderful, not too prejudiced, but Blotts is a monster. He’s just not at all involved in the running of the store anymore, so people like me can slip through.”

“And you worked there through the war?” Helga Hergensh asked in surprise.

“I did,” Jo answered. “It was hard, and I know it didn’t make a real difference to the war efforts or anything, but I felt like being there gave some muggleborns hope that we could still have normal lives.”

Hermione was astounded they had survived. “I’m sure it did help people,” she said. Others were nodding and an older woman put a hand on Jo’s, assuring her it had made a difference to her.

Separating from this group, Hermione made her way over to Sandy. She was talking low to another woman and Cissalay’s Roger. Each woman had one of Roger’s hands in theirs. Did they have another therapist in their midst? They desperately needed more.

Hovering where she could eavesdrop as she slowly polished off another piece of cake, Hermione realized this other woman, Melissa, must indeed be a therapist. Her heart soared. Two still wasn’t enough for the entire wizarding world, but it was better than one. And perhaps they knew others — if not muggleborns then muggles who knew of the wizarding world through children or siblings.

Cissalay made her way to her husband’s side, but noticed Hermione just before she got there. “I want to thank you, Hermione,” the woman said, catching her arm. “For everything you did, but especially when I heard what you went through — the torture — I said, if that girl can come through it, then we’ll get through it too. It’s kept us going.”

As always, the mention of what happened to her at Malfoy Manor made Hermione sick to her stomach. She would never forgive Ronald for letting that detail slip to the public during one of their interviews. But at least it sounded as if it had done some good. Trying to push through the darkness to respond properly, she said, “I’m glad it could help you.”

“No, you’re not,” Cissalay said. “And you shouldn’t be. Nothing about it is okay. I… I shouldn’t have said that and I shouldn’t… Merlin. I want to help people through these problems, learn from Sandy and Melissa, but I’ve always been bloody awful at comforting people.”

Hermione found herself laughing a little. She understood the woman’s feelings of being socially inadequate. Merlin knew it wasn’t Hermione’s forte either. She further proved it by latching on to the one part that might move the conversation away from their discomfort. “You’re going to train to be a therapist?”

“We’ve decided on Mind Healer, since we think that will sound less foreign to magicals, but yes. I may be abominable at it, but we need as many as we can get,” she said, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“I hadn’t thought of training people who are already Healers,” Hermione admitted. “There’s such a shortage there, too.”

A look of rage crossed Cissalay’s face. “That they targeted hospitals, Healers, and the infirm was despicable. It’s hard to know what we need most, but I know Melissa has already helped me. I’m hoping the two of them together can get through to Roger. He hasn’t been himself.”

She teared up again and Hermione wasn’t sure what to say or do. Thankfully, the woman shook her head and walked over to sit next to her husband. Melissa squeezed her hand then stood and started away, giving Hermione the opportunity to pounce.

Following her for a moment so they wouldn’t bother the Joneses, Hermione asked, “Are you a therapist?” even though she already knew the answer.

“I am. Melissa Lee,” she introduced herself.

Hermione felt her brows go up at the familiar last name, but Melissa was a muggleborn.

“Squib line,” Melissa offered before she could ask. “My grandfather is Abernathy Lee’s twin brother. Gramps was thrilled when I turned out to be magical — and furious when the family wouldn’t accept me as one of them. So I’m a muggleborn who’s always known about magic. But why work in this world when it didn’t want me?”

“Do you still feel that way?” Hermione asked.

“Well I won’t be working for any blood purists, no matter how much they need my help. I would never be able to get past my own biases,” Melissa admitted with a shrug. “But I’m here for all the traumatized muggleborns… and perhaps even so-called blood traitors. Know any who need help?”

“I had expected to come to Sandy — I didn’t know there were any other thera— Mind Healers available. My whole family needs assistance. There are eleven of us if we count Molly as well, my mother-in-law,” Hermione explained. “Well, Harry has already started with Sandy, so just ten of us now.”

“Is that all?” Melissa asked with a soft smirk. “Sandy will need to take Molly Weasley, I’m afraid. I’ve heard too much about her. But the rest of you, I would be honored—”

“Trying to steal the royal family from me?” Sandy asked as she walked up and gave Hermione a side hug.

“We are not—” Hermione sputtered.

“Closest thing the wizarding world has — especially to muggleborns. I can’t believe the entire Golden Trio is part of one big — big — happy family,” she commented.

Shaking her head, Hermione gave a half laugh. “Even without the marriage, Harry, Ron, and I would always be family.”

“Shall we split them?” Melissa asked her colleague.

“Yes, probably,” Sandy agreed, “though I would like to see the other two who brought down Voldemort. I feel like hearing from all three of you will help me help each of you individually.”

“That makes sense,” Melissa grumbled, obviously disappointed. But then she brightened with a grin. “Then I get the two oldest Weasleys. I went to school a couple of years ahead of Bill and if I recall correctly, he and the second one are quite easy on the eyes.”

Sandy rolled her eyes, “Fine.”

“Yes, that’s a good word for them,” Melissa said with a grin.

If anything, Sandy’s eyes rolled harder, but she was laughing. So was Hermione. She couldn’t disagree with the assessment, after all, but she felt a little guilty leaving out her other spice. “They’re all pretty easy on the eyes,” she spoke up loyally and both women laughed.

Before they could divvy up the rest of the family, Hermione pulled out the letter from Fred and George. “This was for Sandy, but I know they would love to speak with you both so you can both read it.”

They did so, Melissa reading over Sandy’s shoulder. When they finished, Sandy gushed, “These products sound ingenious and I think I have an idea they haven’t thought of yet. I would love to speak with them about this.”

Hermione smiled. “Could it be later this week? We have a full schedule in the first part.”

“Of course,” Sandy answered, Melissa nodding as well. “Let’s owl about the best time.”

With that done, Hermione went in search of Joe Smith. She had been trying to catch him after the Wizengamot sessions for days, but he was always surrounded by hopeful witches and wizards. Unfortunately, the same was true here, but this time Hermione didn’t have a hopeful wizard of her own to drag her away. She could wait.

“I told them you wouldn’t want it but no one believed me,” Emery stated, coming up beside her.

“Thank you for trying,” Hermione told her, pleased to talk to the woman. “Are you the official Secretary or are you organizing unofficially?”

Emery heaved a sigh. “Secretary. I tried to talk them into someone else so that I could just help, but they were quite certain I was already more prepared for the job than anyone else.”

“You know that’s true,” Hermione pointed out. “You had been our unofficial Secretary since that first gathering.”

Grumbling, Emery admitted, “I know. I set myself up for this and I should have known better.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, though she knew she shouldn’t. It could easily have been her trapped in a position if she hadn’t been successful in demanding that they vote again. She wondered if she could have gotten away with it if it weren’t for her marriage to the Weasleys.

She had never considered that the muggleborns would look down on her for marrying a family of purebloods, but perhaps she should have. For one thing, the group marriage was hardly normal even in the wizarding world. Such things were unheard of among muggles. But it hadn’t occurred to her that there would be blood status bias from muggleborns.

It was why wizarding culture classes were just as necessary as muggle studies. Not just for the knowledge of household magic and rituals and how not to make a fool of yourself amongst those raised in the wizarding world. It was also about understanding their social norms, the ways that muggleborns trod over their beliefs, and helping them find ways to connect.

“You’ll still help with ideas, of course?” Emery inquired.

“Of course,” Hermione assured her. “I’m not gone, just not leading. I would rather research and come up with ideas. Someday maybe I’ll help implement them as well—”

“As if you’re not already doing that in the Wizengamot,” Emery snorted.

“Well, I mean on the ground, in some job that will help people.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a plan for what you’ll be doing,” said a man behind her, the florist husband of the new President. “I’m Felix,” he introduced himself, putting out his hand for a shake.

She wasn’t sure how to respond to this older man making assumptions about her life, but Ehlara appeared from nowhere and cut in before Hermione had to. “She’s just come out of a war! When would she have had time to plan her life?”

Felix held up his hands with a smile on his face. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. From what I hear, you can do anything you want, but with everything you’ve already done, I forget how young you are.”

“Right now, as I said earlier, I’m just headed back to Hogwarts to finish my education,” Hermione explained.

“That’s not ‘just’ anything. Education is important, especially when you’re still trying to figure out your way,” Felix told her. “I work as a muggle florist and love what I do, but I don’t regret Hogwarts for a minute. Met Jasper there for one thing. We’ve been together ever since.”

He smiled fondly and Hermione felt a wave of intense emotion. Would she feel that way about all her loves someday? Or would the magic fade with time? Was it already different since the ritual? She still wasn’t sure. Things with the twins were still strong, but not so tight-feeling. She was grateful that it wasn’t uncomfortable being away from them.

At that moment, the crowd around Joe finally cleared and Hermione hurriedly stepped forward. “Joe! Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Of course,” he said, throwing his mesmerizing smile her way. She heard both Emery and Ehlara sigh quietly at the sight.

It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, but Hermione managed. “My family and I are about to purchase a home that needs some work. We were wondering if you might be interested or if you know anyone who would be?”

He drew his hand along the back of his neck. “I would love to help you, but I’ve just signed on for the crew working on Hogwarts. Could it be done in the evenings?”

“Wouldn’t you be too tired for that?” Hermione asked.

“I should look at the scope of the work and see,” he suggested. “I could give you a bid on the job once I know how big it will be, too.”

“Thank you!” she gushed. “We’re supposed to get the house sometime this week. Do you know the Weasleys?”

He grinned. “Who doesn’t? They’re good people.”

“My husband Charlie is going to be a Professor at Hogwarts, so he’s working up there almost every day. Do you think you could coordinate with him when the house is ready for you to look at?” Hermione asked.

“Of course,” Joe answered easily. “That’s not one in the Wizengamot, so I’ll look forward to meeting him.”

Hermione laughed, a little more high pitched and breathy than she would have liked, but the other two women were as well. Even Felix was watching Joe appreciatively. He was just that charismatic.

Finally, she was done with the people she needed to talk to and able to say her goodbyes. It had been a productive morning, but she was looking forward to relaxing the rest of the day.

********

Fleur skimmed through another paragraph on breaking bonds and dropped her head into her hands. They had been at this all morning. Harry was fetching books and bringing them tea and trying his best to pay attention when Bill and Fleur explained things to him about how the ritual would go, but it was a very different experience to researching with Hermione.

Thankfully, this ritual would be far simpler than the Weasley one had been. She had already figured out the runes for it and Bill was nearly done with the arithmancy. Which was good as she needed to leave.

“Eet eez time for me to go to ze castle,” she told the men.

“Already?” Bill asked, looking up from his figures in surprise.

She smiled at him indulgently. Merlin, she loved this man when he got caught up in researching. And always, of course, but he was especially cute with an ink smudge on his chin and his eyes sharp with thought. “Oui, my love. We ‘ave been at eet for ze whole morning. I ‘ave my late morning tea with ze ‘Eadmistress and Professors.”

“I hadn’t forgotten,” Bill assured her. “Just didn’t realize the time.”

He stood up and walked her to the floo as Harry thanked her for helping with the ritual. Fleur could tell how nervous he was about the whole thing. But it would soon be over and he would be so much happier when he could pursue the relationship with Ginny that they both wanted.

The thought made her a touch sad. Fleur suspected once Ginny could have Harry again, there wouldn’t be a need for her in the girl’s life anymore, not as more than a sister-in-law anyway. Harry and Hermione would be enough for anyone. And she had Bill and Hermione, so she wouldn’t complain. Bill hadn’t been thrilled that she had pursued his baby sister anyway.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she kissed her husband goodbye and flooed to Hogwarts. She was surprised to be met with excited squeals and a giant hug from Pomona. Laughing, Fleur asked, “What eez zis?”

“You’re joining us! We’re so excited to have you as a Professor!” Poppy told her.

Professor McGonagall was grinning at her. “You should have brought your husband so we could celebrate you both properly.”

“I deed not know you wanted ‘im,” she began to apologize.

“We’ll have more fun without him anyway!” Pomona declared, dragging her over to the table as Fleur laughed.

There was quite a spread before them as they all settled in to eat. She enjoyed listening as the older women talked around her, trading gossip about people Fleur didn’t know and reminiscing about children they had taught.

“Augusta was telling me just yesterday that Neville fancies Hannah Abbott. Of course he thinks his Gran doesn’t know, but she laughed about how obvious he is,” the Headmistress said.

“They’ll be worth watching,” Poppy said excitedly. “Though he may find himself surrounded by attention after killing that great bloody snake the way he did. He’s every bit as much a hero as the Trio.”

“Did you see they’re calling him ‘The Slayer’ in the papers?” Pomona giggled. “When he comes to work in the greenhouses, I have to bite my tongue not to tease him about it.”

Fleur had met Neville, and been impressed with him at the battle, but she didn’t know the boy well. “Eez ‘e ze one you said weel be your successor?” she asked.

“Yes,” Pomona agreed. “I won’t leave Minerva in the lurch, but I’m ready to retire. Neville is the one really tending the greenhouses this year, though. I’m merely supervising.”

“Oh! Zis eez a wonderful time to tell you all my idea,” Fleur gushed, then turned pink as they all stared at her with interest. “For ze potions class,” she said. “Since eet eez ze last class zat needs a Professor. Een France we do eet different.”

“How so?” Minerva asked. She was leaning forward, desperate for a solution to her problem.

“Zere we ‘ave one class combined — Herbology and Potions together.”

Pomona gasped, her hand over her heart. “But my plants—”

“Are being tended by young Neville,” Fleur observed, “And you weel still ‘ave time for zem.”

“But I don’t know how to teach potions. I would be abysmal at it,” Pomona said, shaking her head.

“Zat eez why you would not teach zat part,” Fleur said, glancing up at the portrait that was glaring at her. “Professor Snape would still teach ‘is class—”

“I am not teaching sniveling brats from the afterlife,” he snarled.

“Are you saying his portrait could teach?” Minerva asked, her voice filled with wonder at the idea.

“Oui,” Fleur answered. “‘E could give ze lecture and tell Pomona what to write on ze board. She could oversee ze children as zey make zere potions. Eet eez not ideal, but it would work for now. Eet would only be for zis year. By next year, Minerva can find a new teacher.”

Professor Snape looked like he might just storm out of his portrait in a snit, but Minerva murmured, “Posuit Manere,” and waved her wand. Professor Snape’s nose hit the edge of his painting and it was as though he had run into a wall. He turned back, snarling at her. “You can’t actually be considering this, Minerva. I won’t—”

“Former Headmasters are to offer whatever help they can provide to the current Headmistress,” Minerva said with a smile like the cat who got the cream.

“That hardly means teaching classes for you!” Professor Snape protested.

“Where does it say so?” Poppy asked.

“You stay out of this,” the man snapped with a sour look at her.

“She’s right, you know,” Minerva pointed out. “‘Whatever help you can provide’ could absolutely include teaching classes in this time of need.”

Professor Snape rolled his eyes. “There has to be another potions master somewhere in the world that will take on these classes!”

“And I will continue to search for them and replace you as quickly as I can,” Minerva vowed, “but until then, I need a temporary solution.”

He glared at the Headmistress, then glared even harder at Fleur. “I don’t appreciate you bringing an idea like this, child—”

“Now, now, Severus,” Minerva said sweetly, “Don’t call one of your colleagues a child.”

“Colleague?” he choked.

“Yes, meet Professor… are you going by Weasley?”

“Delacour, please,” Fleur said with a nod. There would already be three other Professors Weasley, after all.

“Meet Professor Delacour, our new Ancient Runes teacher,” Pomona said proudly.

Professor Snape sneered at her. “What happened to Babbling?” he demanded.

“She couldn’t stand to work here any longer,” Minerva said with a sigh.

Pomona put a hand on her shoulder before saying, “None of us can, but we can’t all abandon Hogwarts when she needs us most.”

“Just bloody close until you can staff properly,” Professor Snape suggested.

“We are going to be staffed properly,” Minerva said with a sly smile. “There’s no one better qualified than Severus Snape to teach potions, dead or alive.”

He growled, then stormed behind a curtain in his portrait.

“Eez ‘e still zere?” Fleur asked.

“He is. He can’t leave, which I hate to do to him, but for the moment I think it’s for the best,” Minerva whispered.

“I can still hear you,” his voice came from the painting, sounding somewhat muffled.

“That’s fine,” Poppy said. “We’ll just go back to gossiping. How do you think these combined dorms for the eighth year students are going to work, Minerva?”

“Well the plans still aren’t firm,” she said, looking away as though she weren’t sure she wanted to talk about them.

“What plans are zese?” Fleur queried. She was beyond curious if Minerva wasn’t sure about them.

“Since the returning eighth year students are adults, we’re going to make them their own area with private rooms and a common room, all houses together,” Pomona enthused.

“It’s not a recipe for disaster at all,” Poppy said sarcastically. “I’m stocking up on nutrient potions for pregnancies.”

Minerva rolled her eyes. “I’m still considering other options.”

“I zink eet eez wonderful. Perhaps when zee younger students see all ‘ouses together, zey can get along better,” Fleur suggested.

Pomona nodded enthusiastically. “We need to get past the prejudices that have ruled this school for too long.”

“I just want it known that I protested,” Poppy said. “Putting young adults all together in one space is just asking for trouble.”

Fleur decided it was time for a slight subject change. “You said you weel be stocking pregnancy nutrients. Weel you ‘ave zem for Ginny, too?”

“Ginny Weasley is pregnant?” Poppy gaped at her.

“She eez,” Fleur confirmed, though she felt guilty now. She had forgotten they didn’t all know. “Before ze ritual, she and ‘Arry, well, zey made ze baby. Ze ritual magic probably ‘elped ze pregnancy take ‘old.”

“It probably did,” Minerva agreed, shaking her head. “I’m surprised Ginny decided to keep the baby at her age. She did know there were other, discreetly done, options, right?”

“Oui, of course,” Fleur assured the Headmistress. “She sees eet as a way to ‘ave a child without eet getting een ze way of ‘er Quidditch career.”

Pomona started laughing, Poppy shook her head, and Minerva looked excited.

“So she’s going to play professionally? She’s a good Seeker and an extraordinary Chaser!” Minerva enthused.

“Zat eez ‘er plan.”

“I’m not sure how that will go with her not playing this year,” Minerva worried.

Shrugging, Fleur said, “I do not zink eet weel matter. She weel do ze try-outs and zey weel see ‘ow good she eez. We ‘ave plenty of space to make a Quidditch pitch at ze new ‘ouse.”

“You have a new house!?” Pomona asked.

“Oui! And eet ‘as an old greenhouse. You could come and ‘elp me identify everything eef you ‘ave time once we get een,” Fleur suggested.

“I would be honored,” Pomona told her.

For the rest of the teatime, Fleur told them about the new Weasley house and what they were hoping to do with it. It was enjoyable, and she couldn’t wait to actually work with these wonderful witches.

***********

Sweat dripped off him as Ron moved toward the locker rooms. His long legs were carrying him quickly, trying to ignore the calls behind him.

“Ron! I am not giving up,” Millie declared.

He growled before turning around. “I have a family thing now. And I wouldn’t go out with you and your snake friends anyway. Why do you even go out in public?”

She looked like he had slapped her. She sputtered for a moment before saying, “Because I have a right to go out like anyone else. And so do Theo and Pansy!”

Ron rolled his eyes. “I mean why don’t you stay at one of your houses. It would be bloody safer. Do you remember what happened to Theo last time we were out?”

Millie got a stubborn look on her face. “If we hide away, people will never get used to us. They’ll never trust us.”

“No one’s going to ever trust any of you—”

“You are going to trust me, Ron Weasley,” she said, looking furious.

He scoffed and the next thing he knew, there was crushing pain in his face and he felt blood dripping down his chin. Millie stood in front of him, breathing hard. “What the hell was that for?” Ron demanded, realizing they were drawing a crowd now between the yelling and the blood.

“For being an arsehole,” she said, then turned on her heel and stormed off.

When he started after her, another trainee, Jeffrey Taborn, stopped him, holding him back. “You don’t want to mess with her when she’s in a mood.”

“Do you know her?” Ron asked.

“No more than you do,” he answered. “I’m just not an idiot.”

“I have to partner with that bitch,” Ron complained, feeling around his broken nose. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“Just let it go, mate,” Jeffrey told him, shaking his head. He pulled his wand and performed a quick Episkey. “Do you really have a family thing or were you just being an arsehole?”

“Afternoon dinner at my Mum’s,” Ron grunted. “And thanks.”

“Another night then,” Jeffrey said. “We should get drinks.”

“As long as Bulstrode doesn’t come, I’m up for it,” Ron said decisively. He was done with her already.

**********

The familiar scents of the Burrow, filled with Molly’s cooking, hit his nose and Charlie wasn’t sure if he wanted to relax into it or run. Well, he knew what he wanted to do, but he had promised.

Hermione was beside him, her hand woven through his. That would keep him here no matter how much he wanted to leave.

Things hadn’t changed for him with the ritual, as far as Charlie could tell. He still wanted to be with her just as much, though he sincerely hoped he could be away from her long enough to visit Romania or for her to go find her parents — though he hoped to go with her for that. The nights they weren’t together seemed easier, but he wasn’t sure.

Everyone else seemed relieved by the ritual — still attracted and in love with Hermione, but not desperate to be near her. It wasn’t like that for Charlie. But then, he had felt this way before the first ritual, so perhaps that was why.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by Percy. “Can you two come help in the kitchen?”

The kitchen, in close quarters with Molly, was the last place Charlie wanted to be, but Hermione had already smiled and said, “Of course.”

Charlie followed her hesitantly, hoping this would go off without a fight. There was a part of him that wanted it to go so well that, after years of derisive comments about his choices, Molly would finally be happy with something he was doing. Maybe he could start thinking of her as Mum again, someday.

For now, he just needed to stay quiet and make it to the dinner table.

“Hermione, Charlie! It’s so good to see you both!” Molly said, bustling over and pulling them into a hug together. Charlie tried not to stiffen and pull away from her too soon, but based on the sad look as she backed away from him, he hadn’t succeeded.

Gruffly, he asked, “What can we do to help?”

“Oh, if you could just take some things out to the table,” Molly explained, her hand waving at the counter laden with dishes. “I made your favorites.”

“All of our favorites?” Charlie asked, finding himself unable to hide a smile. Of course she had made everyone’s favorites.

“I’m afraid I didn’t know what you would like best, Hermione, so you’ll have to tell me your favorites before the next family meal,” Molly said, focused entirely on Hermione now.

“Oh, this all looks delicious, Molly! I don’t think you need to make anything else,” Hermione deflected. If he knew his wife, Hermione would select something from the smorgasbord of choices and claim that was her favorite, no matter what food she actually liked best. Charlie tucked away the idea of asking her what her favorite meal actually was.

They slowly began the transfer of food from the kitchen to the dining table. As the others filed in, the work moved more quickly. Soon the house was full, all the Weasleys gathered together, and Harry with them.

Molly had hugged everyone as they came in and now she called them to the table as she had done a thousand times before. This wasn’t the first time Charlie had approached the table with trepidation, but it might have been the most intense.

“Well,” their mother said, “Fill your plates! You’re all looking half-starved.”

There was good natured groaning and the twins rolled their eyes. Still, everyone dug in and the chaos was so familiar that Charlie began to relax. Especially when he felt Hermione’s knee nudge his under the table and she smiled at him knowingly.

It was Fleur who began the conversation. “I ‘ad a successful tea with some of ze other Professors today.”

“Other Professors?” Molly questioned.

There was a momentary pause before Bill spoke up. “Yes, Mum. Fleur and I will be joining Charlie — he talked us into it — as Professors at Hogwarts this year.”

Blinking back tears, Molly reached a hand out to her oldest son who was sitting beside her. “Three Professors in our family! I’m so proud of you all!”

Charlie was a little surprised when her smile shone on him as well. He had expected the praise to stop with Bill. It was also shocking to hear her refer to Fleur as family. She had never really done that before. On the rare occasions when she had been forced to, it was always begrudging. Now she sounded completely sincere.

“And Percy, you’re the Minister’s assistant? I couldn’t ask for a better placement for you!” Molly gushed. That had seemed to be her dream for all of them — to be highly placed in the Ministry.

“Well, it’s Kingsley,” he demurred, “and I’m one of the few who could be trusted from the old regime. I’m needed for continuity.”

“You’re needed for much more than that!” Hermione argued and Percy smiled at her with a soft look in his eyes.

“My twins,” Molly said next, moving down the line, “I still owe you both an apology — over and over — for not understanding what you hoped to accomplish with your business. You’ve proven even through a war that you are creative and just brilliant.” She had tears in her eyes.

“Thanks, Mum,” they said together, both of them blushing.

“And Ron! An Auror. I’m worried for you, of course, but so proud,” Molly gushed.

Ron ducked his head. “Not like I haven’t been fighting Death Eaters for years,” he said. “Just making it official now.”

“That you are, dear,” Molly agreed, turning her eyes to Ginny. “I can’t believe my baby is all grown up and having a baby of her own. I can’t wait until the little one is here!”

Ginny grinned. “Bet you didn’t think I would give you your very first grandchild.”

“No, I certainly didn’t,” Molly said, and for one moment she looked like she might say something untoward about it. Then she shook her head and asked, “Hermione, are you going back to school with Ginny?”

“I am,” Hermione enthused. “I know I could work in the Ministry without going back, but I want my NEWTs. And… I just need some time to heal, some breathing space before facing the real world.”

“How are you going to manage school and your marriage at the same time?” Molly enquired, but she didn’t seem like she was being mean about it, just genuinely curious.

Hermione got a contemplative look. “Well, half of the family will be there, as it turns out, but I need to talk to the Headmistress about being able to floo home when I need to — Ginny too, I hope. On a professional level, I also need to discuss some sort of decree that all those on the Wizengamot will be released from classes and from the premises on the days it meets.”

Charlie was surprised she hadn’t already arranged that, but it was true that their wife was a little busy. Hermione continued, “I suppose I need to arrange another tea with Minerva.”

“She’s having you call her Minerva?” Molly asked in surprise.

“She is,” Hermione nodded, “though I imagine I will stop while we’re in school.”

“Indeed. She’ll need the utmost respect to control the school,” Molly said.

“And you’ll be there, too?” Hermione ventured.

She clearly didn’t like the almost vindictive look Molly got when she confirmed, “Oh yes, I’ll be keeping that witch in line.” Charlie was just glad Molly hadn’t called the woman a Death Eater and required a reprimand from Hermione. That would have probably ruined this tentative truce between them.

“That’s good. Perhaps you can work together to give the children the best possible education in wizarding culture,” Hermione said.

Before Molly could answer, Fleur asked, “Do you zink you could go over your roast recipe with me one more time, Molly? I do not zink I ‘ave eet quite right.”

“Of course, dear,” Molly beamed, sinking happily into a conversation about cooking. Percy and Bill were participating as well, but the rest of the table lost itself in a discussion of Fred and George’s latest joke product, The Spork, named after a muggle utensil. Charlie laughed when they pulled one out for a demonstration on Percy’s favorite soup.

“We probably won’t be coming out with many new jokes in the near future,” Fred said quietly. He didn’t seem to want their Mum getting wind of it.

“Why not?” Charlie asked, taking the bait.

“Well, you know we’ve been considering some different products to help people deal with their problems from the war. We’re going to be partnering with a couple of muggleborn Mind Healers to come up with things that will work.”

Blinking, Charlie said, “That’s brilliant! What kinds of things?”

George rolled his eyes. “Can’t be telling you lot all our secrets, can we?” He was grinning as he said it.

Huffing, Ron turned away, asking Harry about the latest Quidditch scores and Charlie let himself get sucked into the conversation. One arm around Hermione, and surrounded by family, even with the tension of being with Molly, was a good evening in his book.

**********

“No more talk about Quidditch, boys,” Hermione told them in her bossiest voice. It reminded Harry of all the times over the years that she had scolded them for not doing their schoolwork right or when they were goofing off instead of studying. He couldn’t help but giggle a bit, making Ron break into a grin as well.

They were standing in the library of Grimmauld Place, still one of the only completely finished rooms, and Hermione had her hands on her hips now. She was just barely refraining from pouting as she reminded them, “This is our special night and I don’t want to be left out.”

“We wouldn’t do that to you, Mione,” Harry assured her with a smile. He had to fight the urge to reach out and touch her. More than anything, he wanted to pull her into his arms and taste that pouty lip, but she was off limits. Everyone was until his bloody ritual. Hermione always would be, no matter how he felt about it right now. Hopefully that pull to her would go away after the ritual.

Ron seemed able to tell that he was dwelling on something he shouldn’t be. “So what do you want to do?” he asked.

“Well I thought we could… talk, catch up with each other, that sort of thing,” Hermione said, sounding a little tentative.

“At a pub?” Ron asked hopefully. Both boys knew instantly it was the wrong thing to say.

Hermione bit her lip. “I was hoping it could be something with just us.”

He hadn’t planned to offer this yet as it definitely wasn’t ready, but Harry couldn’t stand the disappointed look on her face. “I’ve been working on something downstairs in what used to be the large study. We could maybe check it out. Just know that it’s not done.”

“Yeah, let’s see it, mate,” Ron said. He didn’t look all that interested, but Harry hoped he would be once he saw it. Hermione, of course, was overflowing with curiosity, asking a million questions on the way down the stairs, but Harry stubbornly didn’t answer.

When they got to the room, Harry couldn’t help but think it was still so shabby looking and began to rethink the idea of spending time here, but Hermione gasped in delight. “Harry! Is that a pinball machine? Will it work around magic? And table tennis? This is brilliant!”

He blushed at the praise. “Yes, I’ve gotten the pinball to work. It’s more mechanical than electrical so it doesn’t have too much trouble as long as you don’t use magic right on it.”

“Harry, this is amazing!” Hermione gushed, though Ron still looked confused. “They’re games, Ron! Come see.”

She dragged him over to the pinball machine and stood him in front of it, showing him how to work it. Once he got the hang of it, she turned back to Harry. “The children are going to love this!”

“It’s nowhere near done,” he told her. “I mean, obviously the walls and drapes still have to be finished, but I want to have an area for playing muggle board games and wizarding chess, and maybe a ball pit for the younger kids. Or maybe that should go in a room just for the younger ones? I’m not sure.”

“You’re going to do a playroom, too?” Hermione squealed. “The kids are going to feel so at home here!”

“Well, that’s the hope. If they can’t be with a regular family, I want Grimmauld to be a real home for them,” he explained.

With Ron completely captivated by pinball, the two of them grabbed paddles and began playing table tennis. While they played, Hermione quizzed him about the other things he had planned for the house. Harry couldn’t help but feel proud of himself as she became more and more impressed.

Their game got more intense the longer they talked. Finally, when they were both sweaty and had to quit talking to breathe, Harry gasped, “I’m getting hungry. We should stop this and eat.” He left out that he would rather stop playing before she beat the pants off him.

“You’re just saying that because I’m about to win,” Hermione taunted, knowing full well what he was up to, but then her stomach growled and she laughed. “Fine. Do you have food here?”

“No,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I kind of thought we would go out for something. There’s a grocery nearby if we want to cook. Or there’s pizza or Thai just around the corner.”

Shockingly, Ron didn’t respond to any of this. He was still completely absorbed in the pinball machine. “Oh dear,” Hermione said. “We might have created a monster. He’s going to be addicted to the silver ball.”

“He’ll be a pinball wizard,” Harry said with a grin, catching the reference from one of Sirius’ records.

“Without even using magic,” she laughed. “Let’s get pizza tonight. I haven’t had it in ages and I bet Ron’s never tried it.”

Before he realized what he was saying, Harry admitted, “I’ve never had it hot.”

Hermione growled slightly and began cursing about the Dursleys under her breath as she went to drag Ron away from the game. It took him a full minute after he’d been pulled away before he looked at them and said, “Bloody hell, I’m starving.”

Harry and Hermione started laughing before dragging him toward the front door. “Where are we going?” Ron complained.

“To try something new,” Hermione told him. “It’s called pizza and it’s delicious.”

“That’s a muggle thing, isn’t it?” Ron asked. “Dad talked about it a few times where Mum couldn’t hear him. He wanted to try it.”

“Well, we’ll let you eat an extra slice just for him,” Harry promised. “I wonder…”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“Well I know there’s firewhiskey back at the house, but I was thinking of trying some kind of muggle alcohol. Do we know anything about it?” Harry asked

“That I’m the only one old enough to buy it who has a muggle ID,” Hermione answered with a roll of her eyes and a cheeky grin. “And that my Dad would tell us to start with wine.”

“Does that go with pizza?” Harry asked.

She shrugged. “I’ve been busy with more important things than what wine pairs with. But how bad could it be?”

Ron looked skeptical. “Maybe we should buy a variety of things and see what tastes best with this pizza stuff,” he suggested.

“That’s a great idea,” Harry said, unable to keep the smile from his face as the three of them set out.

They stopped at the store first, buying a variety of things based mostly on which bottles looked the coolest. Once they stepped outside, they ducked into an alley and shrunk their purchases. Harry tucked them carefully in his pocket, not wanting to break any of them.

Next, they headed to get the pizza, which turned out to be an experience in and of itself. Harry had no idea you could put so many different things on them. They finally settled on three different ones — a cheese, a pepperoni, and a supreme that Hermione said had a little of everything.

“Now let’s find somewhere to Apparate so we can eat these while they’re still hot,” Hermione said excitedly. Even though it smelled delicious and his stomach was rumbling, Harry felt like, of the three of them, Hermione was the most excited about this.

That soon changed when he and Ron tasted the first bite. They opened some of the alcohol as well, taking a swig to taste it and then passing it on with their opinion. None of them had the fire of magical alcohol, but Harry kind of liked the novelty of all the different flavors and types.

While they were each only trying a sip at a time, Harry soon felt a fuzzy sensation, pleasant, but it made him feel slightly out of control, which he didn’t like. “Pass me that fruity flavored one,” he told Ron. Maybe a bit more and it wouldn’t bother him so much.

“Get your own,” Ron said. “It’s my favorite so far,” he said, cradling the Bacardi Breezer closer.

Harry grumbled but grabbed the nearest bottle — a swirly vodka that tasted like grapes. It wasn’t bad, and the swirls were mesmerizing. Hermione reached for the bottle, “Let me try it,” she begged. He pulled it back, but her hand was already on the bottle, pulling her forward to land face down in Harry’s lap, squeaking in surprise at her sudden loss of balance.

The situation went straight to his cock, desire shooting through Harry so fast and intensely that he couldn’t hold back his body’s response. Turning her head to look up at him, not seeming to realize that she was brushing against him, Hermione said, “That wasn’t very nice.” The movement sent chills down Harry’s spine.

“Hermione,” he whined, desperate for her to move but also not wanting her to.

It was Ron who said, “Merlin, Hermione, what are you doing?” and pulled her away. She looked flushed when he sat her upright. “What was that?” Ron demanded.

Hermione was giggling as she tried to explain that Harry wouldn’t share. Uncomfortable now that he could see her beautiful face and hear her laughter while still remembering the feel of her against him, Harry shoved the vodka at her and grabbed for something else. He didn’t even look at it until he was coughing from the unexpected bite of it.

It occurred to him, distantly, that he was more than tipsy now. That he and Hermione both were, and probably Ron, too, though Harry wasn’t sure. What he did know was that he needed to be up and moving before he did something stupid in response to Hermione’s smiles.

He jumped up and went to a corner where he had set up Sirius’ old record player. He paid no attention to what he was putting on. Harry knew he wouldn’t recognize most of it by name anyway, just by the sounds since he had been playing the records frequently as he worked on the house.

An Oasis song blasted out and Harry went for Ron first, dragging him to his feet and pushing him toward an open space of floor. “Dance,” he commanded before offering a hand to Hermione. “Dance with me?”

She laughed again and stood up, only wobbling a bit as she took his hand and let him lead her over to Ron. The three of them were soon moving to the beat, maybe not dancing in the traditional sense, but having fun.

They danced through more songs than Harry could count before something slow started. Ron began doing an interpretive dance, acting out the words of the love song while Hermione laughed, but Harry couldn’t focus on anything but her.

Tugging a curl, he caught her attention and held out his arms to welcome her into a dance like they had once shared in the tent all those months ago. Only this time, Ron wasn’t the elephant in the room — unless you counted him bellowing behind them, but Harry couldn’t care less about that.

He twirled Hermione, nearly dropping her, then pulled her close, accidentally slotting his thigh between Hermione’s legs. He was delighted when he felt her grind against it, pushing her warm core onto him in time with the music. Her body against his was perfect sensation.

Harry ran his hands up and down her sides, getting closer each time to her front, to parts of her he knew he shouldn’t touch, but the reason why felt distant and the desire was so strong. Suddenly, their faces were inches apart, lips so close he could smell the grape vodka on her breath, almost taste it.

“What the bloody hell are you two doing?” Ron screeched, stopping the music as he stared at them.

“Dancing,” Hermione said before turning back to Harry, sliding her chest against his. He gratefully obliged her, ignoring Ron until the redhead forcefully pulled them apart.

“Your bonds, Harry!” Ron practically shouted at him. He clearly hadn’t had enough to drink yet, as far as Harry was concerned.

“We’re just dancing,” Harry said.

Ron groaned. “I’m not drunk enough for this.” Harry grinned that Ron agreed with him. “And stop smiling like that!” His best mate glared at him and started to separate them further when Hermione spoke.

“Maybe he’s smiling because we were enjoying ourselves,” Hermione said. “I know I was.”

Harry felt his heartbeat take off again. She had liked it, liked him dancing with her. She had the whole Weasley family and she still enjoyed Harry. He was so happy it felt like flying.

“I enjoyed it, too, Hermione,” he told her sincerely.

“No! None of that,” Ron said frantically. When they were still moving closer to one another, Ron narrowed his eyes. “This is supposed to be a trio night. Not a Harry and Hermione get it on while Ron third wheels it night. What happened to not wanting anyone to be left out?”

Hermione sputtered, even though she looked a little guilty. “Harry and Hermione are not ‘getting it on.’” She took a large step away from him and Harry tried to swallow his disappointment as she continued. “I’m sorry, Ron.” She didn’t look at Harry as she promised, “We’ll do something else. Wish we had a telly.”

“I’ll work on one,” Harry promised brashly. He wanted to make Hermione happy. The question was — what could he do tonight? “I’ll read to you! Since there’s no telly.”

“What?” Ron asked. “That’s lame.”

“We’ll make it something good,” Harry swore. “Something interesting even to a wizard.”

“Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland!” Hermione suggested, giggling. “You can compare muggle fantasy to the real magic world.”

Ron clearly had no idea what she was talking about, so just rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Fine, we can try it. But if it’s boring, I get to pick the next thing we do.”

Hermione fetched the book from her beaded bag as Harry led them to the sofa. He sat down, with Ron on one side and Hermione on the other. She snuggled in, though thankfully Ron just watched him skeptically.

It didn’t take long, though, before Ron was entranced. Harry himself was more fascinated than he had expected, having never read the book either. And Hermione just seemed incredibly happy.

The thing was, the warmth of her body against him and Ron scooting closer on the other side to see the illustrations, mixed with all the alcohol, was making Harry unbearably sleepy. He was grateful when Ron passed out first, his head thunking onto Harry’s shoulder.

Hermione smiled when Ron let out a loud snore. Taking the book from Harry’s hands, she crawled into his lap. “That’s enough for tonight. I want you to hold me while we sleep,” she told him, burrowing her nose into his neck.

Holding back a shiver, Harry asked, “Do you want to move to a bed?”

She froze in his arms. “Yes,” she murmured, “but we shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” he asked her. Harry knew he shouldn’t have asked her that. But there was still enough alcohol in his system for him to push the question out.

Looking up at him, Hermione smiled softly and reached up to touch his cheek. “You know why, Harry.”

“But you want me to hold you?” he confirmed.

“Very much,” she agreed, her eyes already closed.

As much as he wanted more, Harry drifted off with a smile on his face.

Notes:

I'm just going to thank everyone even if your characters have been used before. Soooo, in the order they appear in this chapter, thank you to...

Lady Winterlight for Emery
DavinaUnadulteratedChaos for Davina Appleton
Ehlara for Ehlara Mills
Pluvio_phial for Keri Sullivan
ObsidianPhoenix for Rory Jones
Raechevey for Jon Buchanan, Jasper Harris, Felix Robinson, Cissalay Jones, Cassius Williams, Jo Wright
alanapants for Lilah Hess
PurpleCaboose for Halina
Rjsmith for Renee Smith
squirrel_girl247365 for Etta Faye

If I missed any, I sincerely didn't mean to. I still have a handful of characters I was given that I haven't used yet, but they're still in my notes. And feel free to throw out more if you're so inclined. Weaving them in is fun, especially the more details you include.

Chapter 45

Notes:

Thank you to my incredible team for triple checking me on everything so we can keep this all rolling smoothly. I hope you all enjoy!

Hermione woke cuddled against Harry’s chest, his scent surrounding her. Opening her eyes hurt, so she kept them closed, letting her mind wander through what she remembered of the night before. Her heart began to hammer as the night before came back to her. She and Harry had nearly… well, nothing had happened. Thank Merlin for Ron.

She smiled at the fact that Ron’s arm was around her, his head on Harry’s shoulder. Thinking of how they ended the evening, Hermione hoped Ron wasn’t going to be too angry with them.

Her head felt awful, but judging from the number of open bottles of WKD, wine, and other alcohol she didn’t even recognize spread around the room, it was well earned. Of course she couldn’t have been the only one that drank so much, and surely some of those bottles weren’t empty, but it was definitely time to find some headache potion.

Was there something specifically for hangovers? As she stumbled up and away from her friends, Hermione found herself wondering about that and cursing Severus Snape because undoubtedly he knew a potion for it but didn’t teach them useful things like that. She continued to mutter illogically to herself until she got her hands on a headache potion.

She went ahead and took two others out of the cabinet, ready for Ron and Harry when they woke up. Looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if she should regret last night, but couldn’t bring herself to do so.

Even if it was now Monday morning and she had to face the Wizengamot soon. Actually, considering the trials that were on the agenda for today, maybe Hermione would be happier if she had some more of that alcohol before she left.

Suddenly, Ron lurched up, his eyes still opening as he moved. “Merlin, Robards’ going to kill me!” Seeing her standing there, he added, “Why didn’t you wake me!?”

“I just woke up myself,” she answered. “And went looking for headache potions.” She held one out to him and Ron took it gratefully.

“Thanks for that,” he said, but he was waving his wand, freshening himself up. He ran to a duffle bag on the sofa and pulled out a wrinkled uniform. “Gonna kill me,” Ron muttered even as he stripped down to his pants and started pulling on his Auror regalia. “Don’t look, Mione.”

She laughed. “I’m your wife. Why shouldn’t I?” Hermione questioned.

Ron rolled his eyes at her. “You’re not the kind of wife who sees me in my pants.”

“Have you forgotten we spent months living in a tent together before we were ever married? I’ve seen you in your pants more than I’ll ever be able to forget,” she teased.

He gave her a half smile, then headed for the floo. “You better wake Harry. It’s gotta be about time for the two of you to be there, too.”

“It is,” Hermione agreed, “but we’ll be okay. I’ll get him moving.”

With that, Ron disappeared with a whoosh and Hermione approached Harry with some trepidation. She had been trying to pretend last night didn’t happen, but now that it was just the two of them in the house, it was going to be very hard to ignore. At least they weren’t drunk off their arses now.

“Harry,” she said, gently shaking his shoulder.

His eyes fluttered open, then squinted shut quickly. “Oh Merlin, what’s wrong with me?”

“It’s a hangover,” Hermione said, doing her best not to laugh. She hadn’t been much better, after all. “I have a headache potion. It won’t fix everything, but it helps.”

She handed it to him and started for the kitchen. “I think I’ll make us some breakfast. We should both drink plenty of water and—”

Hermione squeaked as she was suddenly pulled back by Harry’s strong arms. He cast a breath freshening spell over both of them and pulled her close like he had last night while they were dancing. Again, their faces were inches apart. His whole body was hot against hers and Hermione felt a thrill of something between fear and excitement. They shouldn’t be this close to each other, but Merlin, she wanted what Harry was silently offering.

Unable to resist, she ran her hands through his hair and Harry groaned low in his throat when they heard a throat clear. Hermione felt her eyes widen at the sight of Ginny standing there at the kitchen door.

“Well this is new,” she commented.

“It is,” Hermione managed. “And it’s stopping. It only happened when we were drunk.”

“You look rather sober,” Ginny observed.

“It’ll go away once the ritual breaks my bonds,” Harry said, his voice sounding almost pained. “But we could make the most of it until then.”

Hermione’s heart was beating a mile a minute. She wasn’t sure how to answer. She knew what she wanted, but it wasn’t what she should want, and especially not without discussing things with Ginny first.

To her surprise, Ginny said, “That would be sensible. Get it out of your system before things change again.”

Harry paused, looking at her. “Gin, I’m sorry,” he rushed. “I shouldn’t have—”

She shook her head. “It’s not like we’re together right now,” the younger girl said, but her voice was tight.

“It’s really my fault,” Hermione said, not wanting Harry to take the fall for something they had both done.

Ginny shook her head. “I saw that room. I would say it’s the alcohol’s fault. And just the fact you two have been attracted to each other for so long.”

“We haven’t!” Hermione sputtered. “It was never like that.”

Rolling her eyes, Ginny snorted, “Not until Harry woke up and realized you were a girl, you mean.”

Hermione sighed. She couldn’t argue with that.

“I’m sorry I was blind before,” Harry apologized.

Shaking her head, Hermione reminded him, “You were very much in love with Ginny until the bonds got in the way, remember?”

“That’s true,” Harry said slowly, as though he had suddenly remembered this conversation was full of landmines and he needed to be careful.

He turned to Ginny, but she shook her head and spoke before he could. “How about some breakfast before you two head out?”

“That would be great,” Harry said, taking the out she offered.

“Only rule is no snogging behind the cook,” she declared. Hermione laughed, she couldn’t help herself. And Ginny grinned at her.

“I need to get ready for the day,” Hermione said before heading up to her room to do just that. Pausing for breakfast was going to put them in a rush, but it was worth it to be sure Ginny was okay.

*********

Bill worried as the seats filled, all except Harry and Hermione’s. Maybe he should have sent someone to check on them this morning. Just. His wife was so responsible, he hadn’t imagined it might be necessary. He expected that Hermione would have made sure they all went to bed at a reasonable time and got up early to prepare. Yet somehow they weren’t here.

Just as the doors were about to close, the two of them came running in, literally winded from their race through the Ministry. Bill didn’t have any idea how to respond to the look on their faces. Both of them seemed in high spirits and on the verge of laughing.

Kingsley shook his head at the two of them, but there was a fond smile he was trying to smother. Percy, however, was looking at the two like they were complete miscreants. Bill observed his brother’s eyes meeting Hermione’s, and the intense blush that bloomed across her cheeks.

Fred was grinning, clearly wanting to laugh at the spectacle they had made of themselves. Still, he held onto his professional demeanor, much to Bill’s surprise. He couldn’t get over how mature Fred had been for the Wizengamot from the beginning, how seriously he was taking the whole thing.

Before he could ponder further, everyone was called to order and the defendant for the first trial was brought in. Bill felt his lip curling in disgust as they chained Lucius Malfoy to the seat. The man was a dirty, shrunken version of himself, his long hair stringy and tangled. He wasn’t trying to look in control of the situation anymore. That much was certain.

Their agenda claimed this trial would take the whole morning, but Bill wasn’t sure how. He was guilty beyond any possibility of redemption. The only thing they really needed to decide was his fate.

Unfortunately, it really did take all of the morning to determine that. Harry, glaring down at the man, had called for a vote on Malfoy’s guilt long before the elders of the Wizengamot were done discussing his many transgressions. Lady Longbottom and Lord Abbott had seemed particularly floored when he was voted guilty without further deliberation.

Yet, it was taking hours to determine his fate. The Dark Houses wanted a 20 year term in Azkaban. Some of the lighter houses wanted life imprisonment while others wanted him Kissed. Bill personally thought that, considering the previous escape from Azkaban, it would be safer to have him Kissed. Then again, life in Azkaban might mean more suffering, based on his current appearance, and Bill wasn’t afraid to admit that was appealing.

Harry stood and everyone quieted to listen to him. It was clear he was a leader amongst the new Wizengamot members and, to Bill’s surprise, some of the more neutral Houses were looking to him as well.

“As I’m sure we all remember, it was only a couple of years ago that Azkaban experienced a mass breakout. There are still Death Eaters on the loose today. I don’t believe that the prison is as impenetrable as it should be, nor are the ‘guards’ trustworthy — something you can add to the agenda as soon as these trials are over,” he addressed Percy directly before continuing on, “Lucius Malfoy has committed a variety of atrocious crimes against wizards, witches, and muggles. If anyone deserves to lose his soul, it’s him.”

Bill watched in awe as many heads in the room nodded and Hermione called for the vote. Her face was hard as she stared down at the man.

“Wait!” Malfoy croaked. “Wait! You can have my fortune. Not a knut of it has to pass to Draco. The Ministry can have it all—”

“Thank you for that,” Seamus said with a sadistic smile, “But you don’t have two knuts to rub together. It already belongs to the Ministry from the crimes your wife and son committed.”

Malfoy looked furious. “It wasn’t their money. You can’t do this! I belong on the Wizengamot myself. If not me, then Draco—”

“The Malfoy seat was given to the Noble House of Weasley,” Percy stated solemnly, fighting not to grin.

Bill didn’t bother to hide his smile. After everything Malfoy had done, after the trouble he had caused their family, he deserved this.

When the vote was called, it was in favor of Malfoy receiving a Kiss — 26 to 24. All of the Houses representing the D.A. members, the five muggleborns from the Coalition, Griselda Marchbanks, Theo Nott, and the neutrals Woodrow Selwyn, Miranda Shacklebolt, Elaine Zabini and Sarika Alva. Bill was shocked by some of those. So, clearly, were some of the more conservative houses that considered themselves Light.

Perhaps those who sentenced even Death Eaters to the Kiss didn’t belong amongst the Light, but Bill found himself not caring very much. He didn’t think the others did either, though they were all appropriately somber as a Dementor was brought in to relieve Lucius Malfoy of his soul.

They were released to a very quick lunch but barely had time to wolf down a meal before they were being dragged back inside the Wizengamot Chamber. As the crowd pushed them along, Bill managed to latch on to Hermione.

“Why were you two so late this morning?” he asked curiously.

He was even more curious when Hermione turned a lovely shade of pink and ducked her head. “We’ll have to talk about it later,” she mumbled.

“We have another family meeting tonight,” he reminded her.

“Merlin, do we?” she cursed softly, her expressive eyes showing him just how surprised she was. Bill wished he could pull her into his arms and kiss her, but that wasn’t an option when they had two more trials to get through today.

Since Rabastan Lestrange was even more unhinged and had committed even more crimes than Malfoy, Bill hoped it would take less time to handle him.

Two Aurors were walking him in, preparing to chain him to the chair in the center of the room. The man was glaring around, not looking the least bit cowed by his return to Azkaban over the past few weeks. He began to fight them, pulling at the magical restraints holding his arms together.

“Aurors! A couple more Aurors in here, please,” Kingsley called, looking like he might jump into action himself.

Two more men raced in, intent on the prisoner. One of them said something and waved his wand as he rushed in.

“This will go more smoothly for you if you—“ Kingsley began, but was interrupted by a massive thundering BOOM. Bill shielded his face as pieces of the first row of seats went flying.

“What was that!?” Kingsley cried above the shouts and screams of the other Wizengamot members.

There was a deep rumbling noise. Then all around them, smaller explosions began.

One of the second set of Aurors who had come in began cackling, dropping his Auror robes to reveal black underneath. A silver mask suddenly obscured his face and Bill found he couldn’t recall what the man had looked like moments before.

As the seat in front of him was hit, Bill ducked under the cover of his own ancient seat, but it did little good when he realized that, despite the layers upon layers of spells and runes and wards that should have kept such things from happening, the Wizengamot chamber was catching fire.

Scrambling away, Bill cast a shield around himself and stood, wand held battle-ready as his eyes scanned the room. Fred was herding some of the younger members toward the door, holding a shield as he looked anxiously behind him. There was fire, but the group was maneuvering through it well.

Harry and Hermione concerned him, however. Harry had leapt atop the banister between his row and the next, throwing a shield over Andromeda and little Teddy. Hermione was shielding him while battling a Death Eater who had appeared in front of them.

As Bill looked around, he realized there were six of the bastards in the room — one who had been disguised as an Auror now battling the real Aurors who were trying to keep hold of Lestrange and then five more wreaking havoc around the room. Most of them were throwing more fire around or chasing the elderly members about. They didn’t seem very focused or serious about causing more than terror. The Death Eater in front of Hermione, however, was clearly set on hurting her and Harry — and Andromeda just because they were protecting her.

Bill threw himself over the banister in front of him, heedless of the way it burned his hand, and sprinted toward them. A wall of fire suddenly sprang up in front of him and Bill spun to meet the Death Eater who had caused it.

The hulking presence of Thorfinn Rowle, only a couple of years older than himself, bore down on him. Bill wasn’t afraid of the man’s wandwork, but in sheer size, Rowle could best him. He seemed to know it, too, throwing a punch before Bill managed to get a spell out.

Being punched in the gut kept Bill from speaking, but he managed a wordless blasting curse, sending the larger man back from him, if only by a few feet. Better than nothing. When he could draw breath, Bill whispered, “Weasley Praesidium” and waved his wand in a complicated pattern ending with a “W.”

He could only hope that the ancient protection spell would accept his intent to cover Harry and Andromeda as well as Hermione, Percy, and Fred. As Head of House, Bill should have that power, but he had never had the opportunity to test it. Of course, using it was also going to alert the rest of the family to the fact that something was wrong, but it couldn’t be helped.

As the magic washed over him, Bill felt a sense of relief — especially when he saw Hermione’s wide eyes turn his direction for a moment. Now he just needed to fight Rowle down.

The man was snarling at him. “What did you do? You think any shield you put up is going to stand up to me?”

Bill shrugged. “Try me,” he taunted, though he braced himself and readied a spell just in case.

Rowle surged forward, looking smug, but was thrown back as he got too close. He threw a spell, something nasty by the putrid color, but it bounced right off. Enraged now, Rowle ran at him again.

This time, as he got close, Bill hit him with an Incarcerous, trapping the man before he could do anything further. For extra certainty, he stupefied Rowle as well. Still not daring to leave him without a wand on the man, he looked first to Hermione, though it was hard to find her in all the smoke. She and Harry were helping Andromeda toward the exit, their assailant missing. In fact, all of the Death Eaters were gone except Rowle — including Lestrange.

“Levicorpus,” he cast, floating Rowle ahead of him as he headed out. Bill had to switch paths multiple times as the fire blocked his way. The Wizengamot Chamber was destroyed.

Seeing Ron talking rapidly with Susan Bones, Bill called out, “Oi, want a Death Eater?”

Ron blinked at him, then quickly shouted, “Millie, help me out!”

Susan rolled her eyes. “I’m right here and I’m further in my training. I can help you.”

“You’ve got Wizengamot stuff to do,” Ron muttered. “Besides, Millie’s my assigned partner.”

Looking at him for a moment, Susan snorted and walked away. Bill wasn’t sure what that exchange was about, but it didn’t matter right now as much as transferring Rowle to the Aurors and checking on the others.

It was all handled in a matter of moments and Bill made his way over to where Hermione, Fred, Harry, Andromeda with a pitifully wailing Teddy, and, to his surprise, Kingsley were huddled together — around Percy, prone on the floor. Bill felt his heart stop at his brother’s pale face and burnt skin, wondering what they could do to bring someone back this time.

“He’s alive,” Hermione told him, rising from the spot she had been kneeling beside Percy, her arms twining around Bill’s waist. There were tear tracks down her face. “He’s badly burnt, and something else is wrong! He can’t breathe! We have to get him to St. Mungo’s.”

“We can’t apparate him like that,” Bill said, thinking through it.

Harry shook his head. “We don’t need to. Healers are on their way and he was among the most injured, so they’re going to help him first. They’ll get him there.” With an angry look at Kingsley, he added, “We’re supposed to be heading up to our offices like the governmental sheep they think we are.”

“I’m not trying to say you’re sheep, Harry. For Merlin’s sake,” Kingsley began.

Looking around, Bill realized that, while this outer chamber wasn’t on fire, it was filled with entirely too much smoke and panicking people. “Actually, Harry, I think Teddy needs to get out of here. This can’t be good for his breathing. I don’t think it’s a good idea for any of us to be alone in the hallways. Why don’t you escort the ladies upstairs and I’ll meet you in the Weasley office as soon as I can.”

“You’re sending us away?” Hermione demanded.

“This isn’t the safest environment—” Bill began.

“I’ll leave it when you do,” she said stubbornly.

Fred came to his rescue. “Are you sure, love? Here comes the Healer now, and I could use your help calming down some of the old biddies.”

“Why would you want me to help with that?” Hermione asked in surprise.

“Because you’ll be infinitely better at it than me,” he said with a grin. “Besides, they’ve set up a triage for minor injuries up in the DMLE and you have a few cuts that need attention, not to mention those burns.”

“I don’t—” she started, but then looked down at herself. Hermione blanched at the blood on her clothes and the spots where her robes had burnt away. “Fine.”

Bill breathed a sigh of relief and shot Fred a thankful smile. Who knew his wayward prankster brother would grow up so much in such a short period of time?

*********

“Did you feel that?” Ginny asked as she rushed into the backroom of the shop.

George appeared to have already been in the process of leaving his station full of cauldrons. He nodded at her and she was even more worried than before.

At the same time, she felt almost invincible, like she was a small child, being protected by her entire family. She could smell the familiar scent of the Burrow growing up, her father’s favorite jacket, her older brothers’ arms around her as they toted her around, the twins’ fireworks. It was comforting and bloody weird all at once.

“I did. I do,” he said. “Something’s wrong. It has to be.”

“Everything feels perfect and safe. How can it be wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” George muttered. “But this is some kind of spell — a powerful one, I think — and it wouldn’t have been cast without good reason.”

“What are we going to do about it?” Ginny asked.

Just then, they heard a pounding sound on the staircase from the flat above. In half a minute, Charlie joined them. He took one look at their faces and gathered, “You feel it, too.”

“We do,” George agreed. “If the three of us are here and safe, it must have to do with the Wizengamot.”

“Could be Ron,” Ginny pointed out. “Maybe this is just some training thing.”

Charlie shook his head. “This’ll be from our Head, from Bill. Something’s wrong with the Wizengamot.”

Ginny swallowed hard. That’s what she had feared. “Do we go there?” she asked.

Charlie and George exchanged a look and Charlie spoke decisively. “Not directly there. We go to House Weasley’s office. Someone will know what’s going on.”

*********

Harry was reeling from whatever spell Bill had thrown over him. He had known for years he was an unofficial Weasley, but this was a whole new level of family that he had never experienced before. He could smell the Burrow and his dorm at Hogwarts and a scent he didn’t recognize but was somehow so familiar to him.

Yet knowing they were safe gave him the opportunity to focus on getting Andromeda and Teddy to the safety of Bill’s office. They could have gone to his own, or to the office of House Lupin, but it somehow felt right to gather in the Weasley office.

Fred and Hermione were walking behind them, helping some of the elderly Ladies toward their own offices. As Fred broke off to take Hermione to the triage area, his eyes met Harry’s and they nodded at one another.

The House Weasley office was homey already, despite them having just moved in. There was a simple desk with the expected uncomfortable chairs around it, but at the other end of the room, there was an old sofa covered by a hand-knitted blanket, a trace of Molly despite all the strife that had been between them. The walls were hung with family photos, and Harry felt instantly relieved to be there.

Andromeda removed Teddy from the sling that held him to her body and began the process of changing his nappy and getting him a bottle, though he seemed soothed by the environment as well. Harry just watched, standing in the doorway where he could keep an eye out for the others.

To his surprise, the others that found them first were Charlie and Ginny. He thought he had seen George as well down the hallway, but he turned off somewhere.

“What happened?” Charlie asked before Harry could ask him what they were doing there.

The spell, Harry realized. They had known something had to be wrong. With a heavy sigh, Harry began to explain, worried when Ginny collapsed on the sofa in tears when he mentioned that Bill was with Percy, headed for St. Mungo’s.

Andromeda put an arm around her, though, shaking her head at him when he started to move closer. He was distracted anyway when Hermione and the twins arrived at the door. Hermione looked furious — the kind of furious that made Harry very certain he wasn’t going to be the one to ask what was wrong.

Charlie, however, had no problem rushing to her side. He cupped her face with his hand and kissed her swiftly before asking what was wrong.

“They told us we can’t go see Percy,” George supplied when it looked like Hermione was literally too angry to speak.

“Because you’re hurt too?” Ginny asked.

Hermione’s jaw worked for a moment. “No! I’m perfectly fine. The Healer up here fixed everything in a couple of minutes. Dolohov didn’t try any of the really terrible spells until after Bill… did whatever he did.”

“So what’s their excuse?” Harry spoke over the siblings who were gasping about Dolohov. He could always offer his cloak to get in if the Healer’s command was bullshit, and it probably was.

Speaking in a high-pitched mocking voice, Fred explained, “We’re overrun. Those of you who are here must stay put! Only one visitor per patient at the hospital!”

“She was bloody worse than the Healer Overlord we had,” George added.

Nodding, Hermione made a face at the memory, then couldn’t hold back a little bit of a laugh. “I don’t know if she was that bad.”

Harry looked her over, glad that she was doing better, though he wished they had cleaned her robes. He shot a scourgify at them and saw everyone relax minutely when the blood was gone. “So do you want to go see Percy?” he asked her.

“We all do,” Charlie spoke up. “And we all will.”

Andromeda cleared her throat. “Perhaps someone should stay here to get information when there finally is some?”

“Plus, I can’t sneak everyone under my cloak,” Harry said with a grin. He hoped they would accept that.

Charlie pursed his lips, looking for a moment like Percy. “Maybe just take Hermione for now.”

“Oi! I’m going with her!” Fred declared. Harry sighed. He knew where this was going.

“No, you’re not,” Charlie told him.

“Who died and put you in charge?” Fred argued. Harry could see Charlie flinch at that, but he shook his head.

“Thankfully no one, though it could have happened to any of you. With Bill indisposed, I am second eldest, whether you like it or not.”

“I am on the Wizengamot,” Fred said, standing up and getting in Charlie’s space. “You didn’t want to be in charge of anything, so I am a Head of House instead of you.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Yes, you are. House Prewett, which has no direct members until you reproduce and give someone that name. Until Bill has a child, I am Heir to the House of Weasley whether any of us like it or not. So in his absence, I will tell you what to do and you will listen.”

There was power in his words. Especially with the spell Bill had cast still in effect, Harry felt a shiver in the magic. He had never thought about who was heir to any of their Houses.

Fred paused before saying, “As Head of House Prewett, I insist on being there.”

Before the brothers could keep fighting about it, Harry said gently, “Guys, look, I can only get one adult under the invisibility cloak. It should be Hermione.”

“I’m still going,” Fred said. “You’ll need a relation of Percy’s to even get information out of the Medidesk Witch.”

Hermione rolled her eyes this time. “Fred, I’m his wife.”

Blinking at her, Fred barked a laugh. “Well yes, I suppose you are, but—”

George put a hand on his shoulder. “Let Hermione go to him, Freddie. Gin needs some comfort here and you know you’ve always been the best at cheering her up.”

At that, Ginny started to protest, but Charlie shook his head at her and she let her lower lip quiver instead. It was an obvious act, but Fred allowed himself to be swayed. Relieved, Harry grabbed Hermione by the hand and hauled her out of the office as she assured the others she would send back news soon.

He was heavily reminded of their morning as their hands remained linked. Harry knew this wasn’t going anywhere, couldn’t go anywhere, but he was going to enjoy what he could have for the few days he could have it.

***********

Percy woke slowly, hearing voices filtering in and out around him. As he became more aware, he also realized that someone clutched his hand tightly, her soft voice sounding worried.

Surprised, Percy tried to pry his eyes open more. When that didn’t work, he tried to remember how he had gotten here, what brought him to be… was he asleep? He didn’t think he had gone to bed. And it wouldn’t explain that worried tone.

The girl’s voice was suddenly joined by a deep, booming voice. It sounded worried, too, almost frantic, and Percy knew that was wrong. They shouldn’t be worried about him. Hermione. Kingsley.

He had protected Kingsley.

Percy remembered it now. The whole morning came rushing back to him, from the session he and Kingsley had enjoyed when they were still at his home, to the Aurors’ office worrying over more threats, to the moment he had stepped in front of a curse meant for the Minister. Percy tried to shift.

“I think his hand moved,” Hermione said excitedly, squeezing him back. On his other side, he felt Kingsley’s large hand slide into his.

“Minister Shacklebolt,” Bill interrupted, “We appreciate you being here, but you don’t have to—”

“They’re together,” Hermione explained hastily.

There was a lengthy pause before he heard his eldest brother stammer, “That’s, well it’s… just… wonderful?” He sounded confused enough that Percy wanted to laugh.

With a huge effort, Percy finally managed to force his eyes open, staring up first at Kingsley, and then to Hermione on his other side.

“Percy!” she cried.

Kingsley was silent, but there was a world of meaning in his deep brown eyes. Percy struggled to sit up, to get closer to either of them as he realized that Bill was hovering behind their wife.

“You’ve scared the life out of me,” Hermione told him, giving his hand another squeeze. “How do you feel? Do you need something? Can I—”

“Hermione, let him speak,” Kingsley commanded. His voice was gruff and Percy found himself wondering if it was from the smoke in the Wizengamot Chamber earlier or if it had to do with all the emotion in his eyes. A bit of humor came into them as he urged, “Go on, Percival. You can talk now.”

“I… I’m okay,” he said. Taking stock, he added, “I’ve a headache and I need some water, but nothing too bad.”

Bill disappeared, coming back a few moments later with a cup of water. Percy was relieved when Hermione and Kingsley each gently tugged at his shoulders to help him sit up. As she was fussing with piling pillows behind him to keep him upright, Kingsley held the cup up for him to drink.

“How long was I out?” Percy asked. He felt like he had been hit by rampaging dragons.

Whatever answer they might have given him was set aside as two Healers came bustling in. Percy barely noticed that Kingsley had withdrawn his hand before they began.

“I’m Healer McNeil and this is Healer Stratton. We need to check you over now that you’re awake,” the first explained as he offered Percy a headache potion and the other cast a diagnostic.

From this angle, he couldn’t read it, but the Healers looked pleased. Bill, Hermione, and Kingsley, however, still looked worried.

“Shouldn’t he be—” Hermione began.

“He’s healing just the way we had hoped,” Healer McNeil rushed out. “The curse he was hit with was very strong. It’s going to take a few days for him to heal fully.”

“Days!?” Percy yelped. “I can’t—”

“You can be here as long as it takes you to heal properly,” Kingsley stated, stepping forward. Percy hadn’t even noticed that he had stepped into the corner of the room.

The Healers both jumped like they had been bitten. “Mr. Minister, sir,” Healer McNeil fumbled, “I’m so sorry we didn’t see you there—”

“It’s fine. You’re here to see my secretary and he’s the one I want you to focus on,” Kingsley soothed. Leaning in as though he were telling a secret, he added, “He took that curse for me, you know. Bravest thing I’ve ever seen — and far above the duties of a secretary.”

Both Healers looked down at him with a new respect in their eyes as Kingsley grinned and winked at him. The moment they had finished checking him and disappeared, Percy groaned, “Why did you tell them that? They’ll spread it everywhere.”

If anything, Kingsley’s grin grew wider. “Because they’ll spread it everywhere.”

Hermione suddenly began looking around the room, inspecting the plants by the window and scanning the walls and doors. Bill cursed and Kingsley looked confused, but Percy understood. Explaining to Kingsley, Percy said, “Checking for that damn Skeeter bug.”

“The law we passed—” Kingsley began, but Bill shook his head.

“She was unregistered for years. I don’t trust her to follow this one any better.”

Percy nodded, though he quickly regretted it as his head spun. The Healers never had really explained what was wrong with him. They were too flustered after realizing the Minister of Magic was there.

“I’ll go get the Healers,” Hermione said. “I don’t think Rita’s in here, but she’s probably lurking somewhere nearby. She’s going to want to get the scoop on what happened in the Wizengamot chamber, and she is likely following you, Kingsley.”

Kingsley shook his head sadly and put a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “I’m going to get out of here so she can find her story elsewhere. Merlin knows you all don’t need any publicity that isn’t sparkling.”

“Like a far-fetched story that I saved you,” Percy scoffed.

Leaning down to kiss his forehead, Kingsley smiled tenderly. “I’m not above manipulating the press a bit, but I was telling the absolute truth. You did save me, and I won’t forget it.”

“You could stay,” Percy said, trying not to pout.

The expression that crossed Kingsley’s face was almost pained. “I’m afraid I can’t get away with too much time here. I’m needed back at the Ministry.”

“It’s still Ministry hours then?” Percy asked, going back to his question of how long he had been out that no one had ever answered.

“It is for me,” Kingsley said with a sigh. Well, that didn’t tell him anything. Kingsley was there far too late most nights, and that’s when there wasn’t a massive emergency.

When Kingsley was gone, Percy turned to Bill and Hermione. “What happened?”

Bill dropped into a chair, running his hands over his face. “No one knows,” he said. “The Aurors have been trying to figure it out, but they’ve called in the Unspeakables now. Some kind of powerful artifact had to have been used to make the Wizengamot chamber — one of the most protected places in the wizarding world — blow up and catch fire like that.”

“I remember it,” Percy said, shuddering. The fire had been so sudden, and all around them. “Was anyone… well, I know people were hurt, but…”

“Lord Doge, Lady Bulstrode, and Lord Lee lost their lives. Many people were injured, but only you were hurt with a curse that nearly killed you,” Bill said, glaring at him at the end.

“Kingsley is more necessary than me,” Percy defended.

“Not to us!” Hermione insisted. “Not to him, either!”

“What’s this—” Bill began, ending in a soft “oof” when Hermione elbowed him.

Percy sighed. He knew well enough what Bill was going to ask. This was more of what Penny had pointed out about talking to the family about all of his extracurricular activities and what he was pulling Hermione into. Blushing, he started to speak, but Hermione cut him off.

“You don’t need to say anything right now. Bill’s curiosity can wait until you’re feeling better.”

Thankful, Percy smiled at her before asking, “What time is it?”

“Almost dinner,” Hermione answered. “The others all went to the twins’ flat to await news of you so that they’re close if the Healers will ever let anyone else in to visit.”

“They’re restricting visitors?”

“They are,” Hermione said with pursed lips. “Harry had to sneak me in. He caused a big scene down in the lobby while I used his cloak to get up here.” She giggled. “If he weren’t Harry Potter, he would be in a lot of trouble.”

“And if you weren’t Hermione Granger, they would have kicked you out after they found you here,” Bill pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. Percy wasn’t sure she would ever believe in her own fame. “They just realized it was senseless to send me away,” she claimed.

“How do you know what everyone else is doing?” Percy asked.

“Patronus,” Bill said simply. “Which reminds me, I should let them know you’re awake and as well as can be expected.”

Brows drawing together, Percy looked at Hermione. “How bad am I really?”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. “They didn’t think you were going to make it at first. Bill had to be here alone for that part.”

He looked at his older brother, the tension in his shoulders and the lines of his face. Bill looked like he needed to be in bed more than Percy felt it. Of course, Merlin knew how many potions he was on right now to make him feel this good. If he had been as bad as they were saying…

“Well I’m fine now,” he declared.

She rolled her eyes. “You most definitely are not fine. But you’re going to be.”

“What’s so wrong with me?” Percy asked quietly.

For a moment, he didn’t think she would tell him. He almost told her she didn’t have to. Then she said, “The spell turned some of your organs inside out. Your body couldn’t function and you went septic almost immediately. That you made it out of the Wizengamot chamber at all was a miracle.”

“That’s me,” Percy grinned, “A right miracle.”

Rolling her eyes again, Hermione looked down at him with a fond smile. “You should be resting, miracle.”

Surprised, Percy shook his head. “I’m not tired.”

“The Healers said you should only be awake for a few minutes at a time the first few days,” Bill said. “So if you’re not tired, we should get them to come around and look you over.”

“I don’t need—” he protested, but Healers McNeil and Stratton were already walking back in, summoned by his interfering brother.

Despite his protests, the Healers fed him another potion. This one Percy recognized as Dreamless Sleep. His hand was tight in Hermione’s as his consciousness slipped away again.

**********

Charlie felt unsettled as he paced around, the rest of the family trying to stay out of his way. Unfortunately, there just wasn’t much room for pacing in this tiny flat.

“You need to eat,” Fleur tried, but Charlie brushed her off. He couldn’t stomach food yet.

Yes, they had received the Patronus that Percy had woken up and was okay for now. Charlie knew Bill and Hermione were safe enough there with all the increased security the Minister had demanded, but he wanted to see the three of them for himself.

And Merlin knew he didn’t want to continue being in charge. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to take control of the family like he had at the Ministry. It had been the right thing to do and he knew it. Charlie could still feel the residual magic of the spell Bill had cast — something he hoped to learn more about if Bill ever returned.

Sighing, he answered Fleur. “I can’t yet.”

“Why are all ze Weasley men so stubborn?” she fumed, though there was no heat to her anger. Of course she was worried and wanted Bill back, too.

He held out his hand. “I’ll try,” he told her, smiling back when she beamed at him. He settled in the sitting room in one of the single chairs there.

On the sofa, the twins sat on either side of Ginny, trying to keep her calm. Harry had taken Andromeda and Teddy home at her insistence but Charlie didn’t expect to see him again tonight, as he imagined that Harry planned to stay there and guard them. Ron still hadn’t made it back either, as far as they knew, though there was nothing to say he had to come here.

A jolt went through Charlie as the sound of the Floo chime went off. Rushing over, he was surprised to see Molly’s head floating in the grate. “Are you all okay?” she demanded. “I felt like something was wrong earlier, but I couldn’t understand why. I only just found out from the Evening Prophet! It says Percy is a hero, saved the Minister’s life, but he’s hurt. They won’t give me any information at St. Mungo’s!” There were obvious tears streaming down her face.

He looked to the others. Ginny and George nodded. Fred’s mouth was a thin line, but he shrugged and gave a sharp nod.

“Come through,” he told her, opening the Floo for her without thinking about it. Charlie was surprised his magic worked here in the twins’ flat. It was a show of faith that he appreciated — that they had given him owner’s rights to control it.

The moment she was in the room, Molly threw her arms around him and squeezed him tight. She then treated each of the others to the same. “Where’s Bill?” she asked when she had made it through everyone.

“He’s at the hospital with Percy,” Fred explained. “Hermione, too, though they didn’t want to let her in. One person for each patient.”

“I can’t believe they won’t let his own mum—” Molly began.

Charlie didn’t point out that the family row was public knowledge and so they might not have let her in even if they could. Instead, he said, “Until Bill and Hermione leave, they’re not letting anyone else in. Probably wouldn’t let the Minister himself visit. But we know Percy has woken up once now and the Healers say he’s going to be okay. It’ll just be a few days.”

“Days!” she repeated. “What on earth was he hit with?”

“Bill hasn’t told us that,” Charlie said, trying not to sound frustrated about it. They needed him to keep a cool head.

Molly shook her head and went to the sofa, squeezing in between Ginny and George. “Have you all eaten?”

“Yes, Mum,” George answered. “We’re all fine.”

As she squeezed Ginny in a hug, she suggested, “What about some tea?”

“Fleur’s been—” Fred began but cut himself off with a cough. “Tea would be lovely.”

Molly was up in a flash, bustling around the kitchen while Fleur allowed herself to be shuffled back into the sitting room. They all knew how she was in a crisis. She needed the kitchen to calm down.

Trying not to feel bitter about her presence, Charlie realized this meant one thing that brought him relief: they could forget about a family meeting tonight. He wasn’t about to do that in front of her and he didn’t think Bill would want him to.

Unfortunately, Ginny didn’t seem as inclined to realize that. As she drank her tea, she asked, “Aren’t we supposed to talk about the house tonight?”

Fred shook his head at her, but it was too late.

“What house?” Molly asked. When no one answered, she got that look on her face that meant someone was going to confess or else. But they weren’t kids anymore. And this wasn’t her house, nor was the home they would be moving into.

Quietly, Charlie told her, “It’s not your business.”

“If some of my children are thinking of buying a house, I certainly deserve to know about it,” Molly insisted.

“Mrs. Weasley, you are ‘ere only because we are being kind to a mother worried about ‘er son. Eef you cannot accept what we weesh to tell you, you weel ‘ave to go,” Fleur spoke up.

Molly narrowed her eyes at Fleur, but there must have been a ferocious look on Charlie’s face, despite how he tried to control it, because Molly suddenly stopped herself from speaking and backed up. “Of course. I’m sorry,” she said instead of the kind of response he was expecting.

The tension in the room was suddenly burst by the Floo igniting again. This time the person stepped straight through. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was Ron. The boy was covered in ashes and soot, but he looked otherwise fine.

“Mum?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, Ronald!” she gushed as she swept him into her arms despite his state. Ginny, surprisingly, was the one to cast a scourgify at the two. It didn’t do much for Ron — that would take more magic than it was worth — but it kept Molly from getting overly dirty.

“You should go shower,” Ginny suggested from the sofa. “I can smell you from here and you’re making me nauseous.”

Unfortunately, it was clear she meant that. Ron must have seen it too, because he immediately said, “I’m going. Can’t wait to get this muck off me.”

“Are things okay?” Fred asked anxiously.

A dark look crossed Ron’s face before he told them, “I’ll talk about it after my shower. And, um… maybe some dinner.”

Molly beamed. “I’ll cook something for you, dear.”

Fleur started to protest. She had, after all, already made one meal, but she seemed to think better of it and let Molly go ahead.

While she was busy cooking, Charlie came to sit next to the sofa, Fleur following. The five of them spoke in whispers, starting with him. “Let’s let Bill decide when and how to tell her about the house.”

“But we do need to talk about it,” George pointed out.

“Can we even sign for it and get the keys tomorrow if Percy is in the hospital and Bill and Hermione haven’t come home yet?” Ginny asked worriedly.

“Oui, I zink we can,” Fleur reassured, but her gaze to him was questioning.

Charlie shrugged. “Bill already set up the money transfer from the bank, and as Heir, I should be able to sign in Bill’s place officially. If the House signature is even needed.”

“The magic of the deed will be stronger if it is used,” Fred informed him. It threw Charlie for a moment before he realized that, as Head of House Prewett, Fred was learning all of these things, too.

“Then we’ll use it,” Charlie stated. He needed to be learning all of this, too. Maybe they all should. Just in case, though that thought made him shudder.

Fred was about to speak again when Ron burst into the room and they all listened to Molly fuss over him at the table.

Finally he was done and Ron looked around at all of them. “It’s bad,” he said solemnly. “Strictly speaking, I’m not allowed to share, but… Lestrange got away, as well as all the Death Eaters but Rowle. He’s been questioned extensively but won’t give anything up. And the blasted Dark Houses have the Veritaserum tied up in so much red tape we can’t use it! They’re considering threatening him with a Kiss if he won’t answer any other way.”

“They can’t just make idle threats like that,” Molly began.

“It’s hardly an idle threat,” Ron scoffed. “The Wizengamot will have to vote on it, of course, but I don’t think there’s much question of which way their vote will go right now. They’re terrified, for the most part, and more than ready to make someone pay.”

Nodding, Fred said, “I’ll vote for it.”

“That’s someone’s soul, Fred,” Molly gasped.

“Should have made better decisions with it,” he fired back.

Trying to derail a fight before it could happen, Charlie asked, “Do they know how it was done?”

“Not that they’re telling trainees,” Ron said irritably. “The Unspeakables have been poring over the room, but I don’t know that it’s done any good.”

“But they wouldn’t tell you if it had?” George confirmed.

“No,” Ron answered sullenly. “They wouldn’t. Did tell Millie her great aunt died, though. Bastards just told her like it was nothing. Turns out Millie’s the Heir because I guess her parents are dead and she was raised by the aunt? They wanted her to prepare to be on the Wizengamot from now on.”

“Well, she’s Head of House now, if she was the Heir before,” Charlie pointed out before he thought better of it.

Ron looked irritated as he told them about comforting her. “I was the only one about. Had to do it. She’s my bloody partner. She got snot all over me, though, nasty bitch.”

“Language, Ronald,” Molly snapped automatically. “That poor girl.”

“Don’t go feeling sorry for her, Mum,” Ron said. “She’s a Slytherin.”

George rolled his eyes. “She’s still a person. And an Auror trainee. According to Harry, she’s not even that bad.”

“That’s ‘cause Harry doesn’t have to work with her,” Ron insisted.

Sensing a fight brewing, Charlie tried to redirect, like Bill would. “Well, I’m glad you could be there for your partner, Ron. Is there any other information you can give us?”

“No,” he replied, and with that, Charlie felt the weight of the day dragging him down.

“I know it’s early, but why don’t we all try to rest,” he suggested. “I can put cushioning charms on the floor.”

“‘Ow about I do zat, Charlie,” Fleur volunteered. He couldn’t argue. Hers were much better than his.

Before long, they were all settled in together to sleep with Molly watching over them from the sofa. None of them even considered going to a bedroom. Maybe it was because of sleeping with Hermione, or maybe just because they needed each other close, but Charlie was relieved when they all lay down together in the sitting room.

His last thought before succumbing to slumber was that the magic that held their family together was too strong to consider separating any more than they were already divided by circumstance.

Chapter 46

Notes:

I know it's been a while - been busy finishing up my first fanfic (the first I started, obviously not the first I finished) and with real life. I hope everyone is having a lovely holiday season and enjoys this next chapter!

Thank you to my incredible team for everything you do to make this fic happen.

When Ginny woke up with Fred drooling on her shoulder, she shoved him off without a second thought, rolling her eyes when he protested before going right back to sleep. As soon as she maneuvered off the cozy, cushioned floor of the sitting room, she headed for the loo. Despite the fact that she showed no sign of her pregnancy visually, Ginny was certain she had to pee more urgently and frequently, something she had read was common.

Her stomach rumbled as she finished her morning routine, only just now realizing that the smell of home — breakfast at the Burrow — was permeating the flat. Mum had been here last night, and clearly still was. Ginny still felt a little skeptical of her mother’s good will, but she hoped it would stay. She needed her mum for this.

She padded out to the kitchen, thrilled when Mum wrapped her in one of her signature hugs. It made everything feel like it was going to be okay again, and Ginny relaxed into it. “Good morning, Mum,” she said.

“Good morning to you, Ginny-Bug,” Mum replied, using the old nickname Ginny had grown to hate as she got older but somehow didn’t mind this morning. “Have a seat. I’ll have this ready in just a moment.”

“I could help,” Ginny suggested, though she honestly loved the idea of letting Mum spoil her a bit. She had missed it.

“You shouldn’t be on your feet, dear.”

Rolling her eyes, Ginny responded, “I’m not that pregnant yet.”

Mum turned around with her hands on her hips and spoke with her spatula swinging wildly. “There’s no such thing as a little bit pregnant. You are or you aren’t. Since you definitely are, we need to be taking good care of you. Tell your brothers they’d better, too.”

“Tell us what?” Charlie asked with a yawn as he walked into the room. He allowed Mum to hug him around the middle and he leaned down to kiss her cheek. He seemed too sleepy to remember he distrusted her.

“To take care of your pregnant baby sister,” Mum stated.

Charlie grinned. “Oh, we’ll take care of her, all right.”

Again, Mum had one hand on her hip while the other waved the spatula, this time at Charlie. “I’m not joking, young man. Pregnancy is hard, especially the first time.”

“I’m really fine, Mum,” Ginny broke in. “Just moody and a little queasy sometimes.”

What her Mum would have said to that, Ginny wasn’t sure because at that moment, an owl tapped at the window, The Daily Prophet clutched in its talons. Charlie started for it, so of course Ginny decided to get it for herself. He might be bigger and stronger, but she was still faster. He might also have fought her for it, but Mum, as she sat their plates on the table, was glaring at him, daring him to take that paper away from his little sister.

Sighing, Charlie walked away, going to the stove to prepare his own tea, though Mum ushered him away and back to the table. Ginny couldn’t be bothered with that, though. Not once she read the headline.

“They’ve made Percy a hero!” she announced excitedly.

“Well he is one,” Mum said firmly, setting aside her spatula to come read the article over Ginny’s shoulder.

“Does it say what happened?” Charlie asked. “How it happened?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Just wild speculation. Skeeter clearly doesn’t know anything we don’t.”

“So basically nothing except that it happened,” Charlie said with a frustrated sigh. “No wonder she focused on Percy.”

“It does make a rather good story,” Ginny hummed as she read. “Especially with him still in St. Mungo’s. Kingsley is quoted as saying that he would be dead without Percy’s sacrifice.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t try to interview Perce,” George said, emerging from the doorway where he had apparently been listening.

“I’m sure they wanted to,” Ginny laughed. “Skeeter sounds very irritated that there is an Auror guard on his door at St. Mungo’s.”

“So is that all it says?” Charlie asked.

Mum, from over her shoulder, said, “There are obituaries for the three Wizengamot members who died. And information on their successors. Oh, this is interesting! Ron’s friend Millie will be joining the Wizengamot.”

“Friend,” Ginny snorted. Surely Mum knew that Ron hated Slytherins as much as she had always taught them to.

“Well, maybe it’s best if he doesn’t completely trust the girl. She is a Bulstrode — and a Slytherin it says,” Mum noted. Ginny noticed Charlie and George both go tight-lipped and wondered if they had Slytherin friends she didn’t know about.

“Not every Slytherin is evil,” Charlie said. His tone was calm, but the look in his eyes was barely contained anger.

“I suppose not,” Mum agreed, “but it still doesn’t hurt to be cautious.” She was so stubborn. Not that Ginny could say much when she felt the same way, but surely Mum could hold her tongue long enough for things not to explode with Charlie and George.

“That’s true of everyone,” George said with an easy grin, launching into a funny story about a customer — a Hufflepuff, nonetheless — and what they had tried to take from the store. And, better yet, how the store had fought back.

Everyone was laughing before long, irritations over Slytherins forgotten. Things were still tense between Mum and the boys, but Ginny was relieved that they could work past it, that they were willing to try.

**********

Percy was a good patient, doing everything the Healers said, except that he was desperate to get back to work. Or was it just Kingsley?

That had been a shock for Bill. He still wasn’t sure what to make of it. It did make some of Percy’s more cryptic statements make more sense. The really important part was that Hermione had known about it. Bill knew his personal opinion wasn’t entirely relevant.

He wanted to ask his brother whether his concerns were more about the running of the Ministry or about his boss, but he was still deciding how to phrase it when his thoughts were interrupted by the tapping of an owl beak against the window. Seeing that Hermione was busy talking Percy down from his latest insistence that he needed to leave, Bill went to let it in.

The missives it carried were very official looking, one for Hermione and one for himself. He gave his a quick read before pulling Hermione out of the room. Telling her there was an emergency Wizengamot session in front of Percy seemed like a terrible idea. His brother would drag himself from his death bed to go to a Wizengamot session, and Bill wasn’t having it.

“We’re going to need to send the others a Patronus. Someone will have to come sit with Percy while we go,” he stated.

Hermione nodded. “We should ask him who he wants first.”

“As long as we don’t tell him the reason why,” Bill cautioned.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Obviously.”

Heading back in, they approached a very grumpy looking Percy. “There’s an emergency session, isn’t there?” he asked before they could say a thing.

Bill’s jaw dropped, and Hermione shook her head. “How did you know?” Bill asked.

“Official Ministry bird,” Percy noted. “And you’re being too secretive for it to be anything else. I should be there.”

“You should be in this bed,” Hermione said firmly. “Now, who do you want to come sit with you? Charlie? Ginny?”

Percy mumbled something.

“What?”

Huffing, he looked up at Bill. “It feels wrong that Mum hasn’t been to see me. I know… I know she’s still not really accepted by us all, but—”

“Of course I’ll get her,” Bill answered, feeling ashamed that he hadn’t even considered getting her. He hadn’t considered that Percy would want to see her, but he should have. Having just returned to the family fold, Percy wanted that connection with their mother in a way some of the others did not.

He sent a Patronus, knowing she would rush right over.

*********

After George rather insensitively set off a decoy detonator next to his head, Fred’s hasty preparation and quick departure to the Wizengamot’s meeting seemed almost calm. Even the loud and angry arguments between members of the Wizengamot weren’t enough to compare.

George had apologized, of course. He wasn’t thinking of the danger faced just yesterday. Or, in general, how the war still played on all their minds. He was just trying to be funny as he woke his twin. Fred understood that. But his heart was still racing as Kingsley made it to the front of the crowded room.

It felt like they had been herded into a death trap. Fred didn’t like the claustrophobic feeling of people pressing against him, but he supposed they were safer up here in the DMLE Auror briefing room than they would have been down in the hollowed out shell of the Wizengamot’s chamber.

Taking deep breaths, he forced his way through the crowd to Hermione’s side. She was in the middle of an involved-looking conversation with Scarlett, both their hands flying around as they spoke. Honestly, Fred wasn’t sure how they weren’t hitting people. He started to lean in, unable to hear them over the din, when Kingsley cast a Sonorous and called everyone to attention.

“I know some of us aren’t ready to be back here yet,” he said, sounding apologetic. “But there is work to be done. Our Aurors have worked through the night to get all the information they can from the Death Eater who was caught. Thorfinn Rowle was directly responsible for the deaths of three members of the Wizengamot. We need to determine what to do with him.”

“It is time to stop drawing out these trials,” Lord Greengrass stated. His silky smooth voice was hard with anger, though Fred wasn’t sure why.

“For once, we are in complete agreement,” Lady Longbottom spoke next. “I propose we deal with the rest of the Death Eater prisoners at once.” Lord Greengrass was nodding along.

Fred wasn’t sure how they could deal with multiple people in one sweeping motion. Send them all straight to Azkaban for life, perhaps? As soon as they were confirmed to have a dark mark? He would stand behind that.

Lady Burke’s voice was shaking when she practically shouted, “The Kiss for all of them!”

“Everyone who followed the Dark Lord?” Mister Sullivan asked, looking stunned and worried.

“For marked Death Eaters, yes,” Lady Burke replied.

“And anyone who is found to have been involved in yesterday’s attack,” Lord Pritchard suggested. There was a murmur of agreement around the room and Fred suddenly understood.

The elder members of the Wizengamot, across the board, did not take kindly to being personally attacked. Even the Dark Houses were now ready to retaliate. Perhaps he should just be grateful that everyone was ready to act against the Death Eaters, but Fred found himself annoyed.

Before he thought it through, he was speaking. “You are all saying that, when they attacked helpless people in the streets, it was up for debate what we would do with them, but now that it’s us, they deserve the Kiss?” Fred’s incredulous voice carried through the room even without the help of a Sonorous.

There was muttering again, this time rather sheepish, but not enough. Fred felt rage welling up. “I am ashamed to be part of a body that cares more for itself than the people it is here to represent.”

There was silence for a moment before Lee agreed, “Hear, hear!” Dumbledore’s Army all gave a shout, joined by several other voices Fred wouldn’t have expected. Bill, of course, and the muggleborns, but also several of the adults, Theodore Nott, and Ron’s partner, Millie.

Lord Abbott spoke above the crowd. “The boy is right.” Fred bristled, but couldn’t argue that next to the old man, he was just a boy. “We should have been doing better already.”

“But it doesn’t change the fact of what we will do now,” Lady Goldwin interrupted. “I’d like to bring it to a vote. All those in favor of the Kiss for all those with the mark and anyone found associated with yesterday’s attack.”

The vote was almost unanimous — only Emily Shaw and, to his surprise, Hermione, abstaining. Kingsley seemed equally surprised. “Lady Weasley, Madam Shaw, did you have something to say?” he asked.

“What of those who are marked but were already given a different outcome?” Hermione asked.

Understanding flickered through the crowd, though many faces hardened again after. Before any of them could speak, Emily Shaw said, “If we ignore our own ruling in favor of this one, what kind of message are we sending about the word of the Wizengamot?”

There was muttering before Lord Greengrass responded. “I think it is in our best interest to leave the two children, Gregory Goyle and Draco Malfoy, to their already decided fates. This verdict will apply to all other marked Death Eaters.”

“What if there are more children?” Hermione demanded. Her cheeks were flushed and her brow scrunched together.

“Do you have reason to believe that there are?” Lord Ollivander asked, looking concerned.

“No,” she huffed, “But I’m hardly the authority on Voldemort’s sidekicks.”

A throat cleared and Lord Rosier said, “If my nephew was to be believed before he met his end, only those two were marked while they were still students. He was quite upset about it, as were many of the other Death Eaters and… supporters.”

He had come dangerously close to admitting he was a supporter, but Fred appreciated it as he saw relief in Hermione’s expression. He didn’t feel generous enough toward the little bastards, no matter how young they were, but he was glad Hermione felt better about it.

“We will witness Thorfinn Rowle being Kissed, then,” Kingsley said solemnly.

As he was led in, everyone observed him. The man was huge. Fred hadn’t properly had time to process that fact when he had been herding people out yesterday. He was just grateful that Bill’s magic had proven stronger. Merlin knew his scrawny arse brother wouldn’t have won in a fist fight.

“You’re all going to regret this,” Rowle suddenly shouted. “They’ll come after you! Dolohov has more power than you can imagine. He’s going to kill you all!”

It took five Aurors to subdue him enough to chain him to a chair. Everyone took several steps back — squishing them all even closer together — as a dementor entered the room.

Ice crawled down Fred’s spine and he pulled Hermione a little closer as he heard her whimper. Harry on her other side was leaning in, too. Fred remembered that he reacted particularly strongly to Dementors. An Auror cast her Patronus, letting it pace back and forth in front of the Wizengamot members, shielding them from the worst effects of the Dementor, but Fred still felt a slight chill.

Rowle was screaming at them, calling them all blood traitors, filthy half-bloods, and mudbloods, and reiterating that they would all be hunted down, but Fred tried to tune it out. As the Dementor began its job, the vitriol stopped, a high pitched whine coming from the man instead until he was gone.

This had been much… noisier than Lucius Malfoy’s Kiss had been. And with the promise of plenty more Death Eaters to be Kissed in the future…. Fred felt shaken, and he could tell no one else was doing much better. Hermione was trembling. So was Harry.

As far as Fred was concerned, this session was over. He started pulling Hermione toward the door, quickly realizing they weren’t the only ones with that idea when Kingsley called, “Wait! We need to determine our meeting schedule.”

Grumbles could be heard around the room, but everyone paused without leaving.

“A week off,” Lord Shafiq suggested.

“But our world needs—” Harry began.

“They got what they had to have when you pulled your little stunt with the Law of Rights,” Lord Fitz sneered. “We need to recover from yesterday.”

“Perhaps we could return to our regular schedule?” Lord Entwhistle suggested.

“Once a week?” Lady Wood said incredulously. “You think we can clean up all of this mess meeting just on Wednesdays?”

“It’s been done before,” Lord Blotts defended. “After the first war—”

“And look what a mess that turned out to be!” Seamus snorted. “We had to have a whole other war to sort out the messes you lot left us.”

“You may not speak to me like—” Lord Blotts was cut off again, this time by Harry.

“Have you ever fought in a war, Lord Blotts? He may speak of it how he bloody well pleases because he was there and knows what it was like. We all do — the ‘children,’ as you call us. We’re the ones who just fought a war and we are here to make sure no one else has to.”

Harry was breathing hard by the end of his speech, but the members of Dumbledore’s Army had all migrated to stand around him and it was a visual show of force that seemed to spook the older members of the Wizengamot.

There was silence for a long moment before Lady Zabini smirked and said, “Well it seems we know who is in charge. How many sessions will we have each week, Lord Potter?”

Glancing to Hermione, who made a quick motion down low, Harry announced, “We will meet three times per week after this week. We can take a break for this week while the chamber is rebuilt.”

Fred grinned as Kingsley cleared his throat, presumably reminding the Wizengamot that he was still technically in charge. “All those in favor of taking this week off and then working three days each week thereafter?”

A clear majority raised their wands. He wasn’t sure if everyone really thought it was best or if they were just following Harry’s lead, but it was good either way. Hermione looked pleased, too, which was always a positive in Fred’s eyes.

Bill made his way over to them and said, “I need to get back to check on Percy. Are you coming, Hermione?”

Before she could answer, Fred asked, “Could she accompany me to the Office of House Prewett first? I have some things we need to discuss.”

Raising an eyebrow, Bill let his skepticism be known, but Fred just rolled his eyes. He did need to talk to Hermione, and not everything was his oldest brother’s business.

“As long as you accompany her to St. Mungo’s when she’s ready,” Bill told him. Seeing that Hermione was about to protest, he continued, “I don’t want any of us traveling alone until those Death Eaters are captured.”

“Who’s going with you then?” Hermione demanded.

“I am,” Kingsley said, appearing from the crowd. “It’s time I paid my heroic secretary a visit, don’t you think?”

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut, nodding. Bill was the one who said, “Yes, probably time and it keeps us both safe, what with the Minister’s Auror escort and all.”

“I’m escorting Andromeda and Teddy back to their home,” Harry let them all know.

“Of course,” Fred acknowledged. This was working out perfectly.

“Seems like I can talk then,” Hermione said with a smile. “Lead the way.”

*********

Charlie looked at the house again as the wind swept through his hair. They could have waited for Miriam at her office, but Charlie had begged George to come along to the house with him instead. Since they apparated instead of taking a portkey, they couldn’t go inside until she arrived and invited them in, thanks to the realtor’s wards on the house.

For the two of them, that was fine. George had rambled off to the greenhouse. Charlie was exploring the biggest barn while keeping an eye on the door of the house. He didn’t want to keep Miriam waiting, but he was more than happy to wander around outside until she arrived.

This barn would be perfect for a wide variety of creatures. Of course, he would have to run anything he got by the rest of the family, but surely they would agree to an Abraxan or two. Perhaps a hippogriff? Harry and Hermione had some familiarity with them after all. What he couldn’t keep here, he could have in the Forbidden Forest, but Charlie knew he would want some creatures here at home, too.

He sighed when the thought inevitably crossed his mind that the only place he would have dragons was at the bank. A couple of dragons were better than none.

“Thinking about who you’re going to fill the place with?” George asked. Charlie noticed he was stuffing some odd pinkish-purple flowers in a pocket.

“Of course,” he answered with a grin. “You gathering components for a new creation?”

“Of course,” George returned, matching his expression. “Miriam just arrived. Come on. I can’t wait until this place is ours officially.”

“Neither can I!” Charlie agreed. “Race you!”

The two of them were off, laughing hysterically as George pulled ahead just before they got there. Miriam was laughing at them by the time they arrived at the front door, panting and laughing their heads off.

“You may be stronger, but that’s just more weight to lug around in a race,” George teased.

“That’s okay. It means I can,” Charlie’s words paused as he pounced his younger brother and wrestled him to the floor, “do this when you stop to rest.”

Miriam was shaking her head and laughing as she said, “Boys, boys. It’s time to sign the paperwork. Is William not going to be here?”

Charlie stood, helping George to his feet as he explained, “No, I’ll be signing as the Heir of House Weasley, on behalf of the family, with the blessing of our Magic.”

As he said it, the whole house seemed to glow happily.

“Oh my,” Miriam said happily. “I do so love it when a house and a family are a perfect match!”

“Does it happen often?” George asked.

“Like this?” she asked, looking around at the way the house was practically preening. “Almost never. You have something very special here.”

Charlie could feel the Family Magic inside him responding to the house. All around them, the house was quivering with excitement. It was glowing from the inside out, so that it was brighter in here than in the sunshine outside. He couldn’t help but smile as the cabinets rattled impatiently.

“I’m getting to it,” he told the house. It glowed brighter for a second and he almost felt like he was being hugged, like his magic was being hugged.

“Here’s the paperwork,” Miriam said, holding a golden quill and urging him to take it.

Despite the growing feeling of urgency from the house and his own magic, Charlie was careful to read everything before he signed, not wanting Bill to be disappointed in him. But everything was perfectly straightforward and exactly as expected.

When he signed the last parchment, the house seemed to sigh happily. He could feel it through his magic. Beside him, George shuddered.

“Did you feel that?” he asked.

“I did,” Charlie agreed. “I think she’s welcoming us home. We’re going to need a good name for her.”

“I’m not even throwing anything out without all of us here,” George said firmly. “Wouldn’t be fair.”

“Good point,” Charlie conceded, running his hand through his wild hair. It felt entirely surreal that he, Charlie, had just bought a sentient Manor with all of his siblings and their wife. They had a lot of work to do, but the Weasleys weren’t doing half bad these days.

*********

Ron was strolling along the corridor of the DMLE when he heard angry voices around the corner in front of him. He took his surroundings into account and stepped behind an enormous potted plant that was situated just before the corner.

The hallway he was closest to led to some of the Offices of Wizengamot members. They had been meeting today, Ron knew, because he got off training early since his partner wasn’t available and he could only do so much without her. Bloody menace that she was, at least she was good for something.

Quieting his thoughts, he listened carefully to see if he could hear what was going on. There were several low, angry voices, and one higher one, but he couldn’t tell what any of them were saying. Logic said these were probably Wizengamot members and he had no business spying on them, but Ron just had a hunch.

Digging in his pockets, he was relieved and excited to find one of the twins’ Extendable Ears. Delicately, he set it out along the edge of the plant toward that hallway and the voices were suddenly clear.

“We won’t tolerate you voting with the Potter brat. Your aunt would be ashamed of you,” one man growled.

“Good,” the higher voice answered, a voice he recognized now — Millie. She wasn’t done either. “If I ever do anything to make that woman proud of me, know that I’ve probably been Imperiused—”

“That can be arranged,” another low voice snapped. This one was almost silky, it was so smooth.

“Did you just threaten an Auror and member of the Wizengamot?” Millie replied.

“You really think they’ll ever let you become a full-fledged Auror? That we will let you?” Silky said. Ron fought the urge to jump out at them and say they had no business saying such things to her. Of course she was going to be an Auror! A bloody good one, too.

He held back his rage as she was talking again. “You won’t stop me. I won’t let you. I’m reporting your threats—”

“I suggest you don’t, dear,” the first man interrupted. His voice was low and gravelly “You might not recall, but there was a betrothal contract with my grandson.”

“You tore it up. Aunt Myrtle was furious with me,” Millie said with a short laugh.

“She thought I did,” the gravelly man returned. “Believe me when I say I can put a stop to your nonsense and force you to be a proper Lady if you can’t behave otherwise. I would hate to make Marcus so unhappy, saddling him with a little bitch like you, but—”

There was a cracking sound as the man cut off with a grunt and a strangled yelp.

“You’re in for it now, you little cunt,” a third man said. Ron hadn’t realized there was another and wondered just how many were out there. It didn’t matter how many there were.

Spinning out from behind the plant, Ron rounded the corner, wand out. “What’s going on here?”

Millie was, thankfully, on his side of the corridor, though she was backed nearly to the wall with five men approaching her. One of them had a bloody nose and Ron could see the mahogany wand he knew was hers clutched in one of the men’s hands. Millie herself looked anything but cowed, despite the situation she was in. She was glaring ferociously, her hands fisted in front of her despite the fancy clothes she was wearing.

“Nothing of consequence,” Silky said — a man Ron recognized as Lord Sebastian Greengrass.

Ron snorted. “I think threatening to Imperius someone is of consequence,” he said, the last bit a mockery of Greengrass’ smooth voice.

“So is eavesdropping on members of the Wizengamot,” Greengrass retorted.

Ignoring him, Ron spoke to the man who was holding Millie’s wand. “Give her back the wand or this is about to get a lot worse.”

“Giving her a wand sounds a lot worse,” muttered one of the fools. Not a voice Ron recognized. And really, maybe that made him one of the smarter ones, even if he did seem like nothing more than muscle for the two who had been speaking.

As he watched the man with her wand move to hand it back to Millie, Ron heard a smooth voice whisper a single word, “Obliviate.”

*********

Until today, Hermione had never been in the Office of House Prewett. She was now well acquainted with nearly every surface in the room, from the walls to the floor to the desk, all the chairs, and now the pristine sofa. It looked like it had never had anyone sit on it before, and Hermione was quite certain no one had done this on it.

She giggled as Fred nibbled that spot inside her thigh that both tickled and sent little zaps of anticipation up her spine. Even though he had just licked and fingered her into another wild orgasm, he appeared to be starting again.

Hermione had lost track of how many orgasms he’d given her, and she certainly had no idea of the time. All she knew was that she wanted more. She could never get enough. Fred was startled as she pulled away from him, but grinned when he saw how she was moving.

As she threw a leg over his hips, Fred must have been reading her mind, because he chuckled. “Insatiable. It’s a good thing you have 8 spice, or we’d be worn to the bone trying to keep you satisfied.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she said, pinching his nipples the way she knew made him hard. They had both long since lost their clothing. Thank Merlin for locking charms to keep them undisturbed.

Since Fred had decided it would be fun to leave the silencing charms off to see if she could “behave herself,” Hermione was more than well aware that there had been several knocks on the door — most likely nosy people trying to catch them in compromising positions. If it were any of the family or about something actually important, they would have sent a Patronus.

Bill probably wondered where she was, but Hermione knew he would be fine. They all were since the ritual. They weren’t so needy all the time. And when they came to her, she knew it was just because they wanted to.

Fred bit her lower lip. Not hard, but hard enough to bring her attention back. “What are you thinking in there, love?”

Laughing self-consciously, Hermione admitted, “I was just thinking that another thing I gained from the ritual without even realizing it was a problem before is knowing that people are touching me just because they want to. You each care about me, and take care of me in your own ways. Maybe even love me.”

“Maybe?” Fred asked incredulously as he lined himself up with her and let Hermione sink herself down on his cock as he hissed and threw his head back.

“Sometimes I think it depends on the day,” Hermione said with a small grin. “I’m not always nice you know.” As she said it, she squeezed her muscles around him, making Fred groan.

“Please keep being so cruel to me,” he teased. He was grinning, but his eyes were soft as he looked up at her.

“Anytime,” she answered, pinching his nipples again as Fred tried not to yelp. Instead, he thrust up into her hard, bucking his hips into her body and giving her delicious friction straight to her clit. Hermione captured his mouth, whimpering into it as she rode him.

“Merlin, how can I be so close again already?” Fred cursed softly.

“Because I’m good at this?” Hermione asked, blinking at him as though she had some semblance of innocence to offer in this situation.

“Just for that, I’m getting you off twice,” he threatened.

“Oh no,” Hermione whined, only half joking. Fred was usually a prankster, of course, but he was very serious when it came to orgasms, she had found.

His fingers found her swollen bud and began manipulating it with expert precision as she continued to bounce on his lap, torturing herself exquisitely. It was hard not to scream as she came around him, knowing it was just as hard for Fred, just as difficult for him to hold back.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned. “I want to give in so fucking bad, Hermione, but I’m not going to. I promised you one more orgasm and I’m going to deliver.”

She felt nearly delirious as he lifted her hips up and down, masturbating himself with her body. She knew she was squeezing around him. Fred was covered in a fine sheen of sweat as he continued guiding her with one hand and began playing with her clit again with the other.

“Please, Fred,” she whimpered. “I’m done. I can’t again.”

“Oh, I promise you can,” he disagreed, smiling against her lips as he pushed her over the edge one last time. She came so hard it hurt and she wasn’t sure she could keep it inside.

Hermione almost lost her battle, almost screamed as her vision went black and she felt him spurting inside her.

Collapsing bonelessly against him, Hermione wasn’t sure she could have moved if her life depended on it. Thankfully, no one expected either of them for anything at this moment. She almost appreciated what those bastards had done to the Wizengamot.

But now wasn’t the time to think about them. It was time to think about home and babies and butterflies and drifting minds. Hermione’s body was floating, she was sure of it.

“Fred, I don’t think I can ever move again,” she murmured against his love-bitten neck.

He chuckled, and said, “Then don’t, love. I’m not opposed to you sitting on my cock forever.”

“Mmmmm. We’d get hungry eventually.”

“And we’d miss Georgie,” Fred added.

“True,” she agreed. “I’ve neglected him.” She was startled by the thought, but she suddenly couldn’t remember the last time she had been with George like this. It had been days. Since before the ritual.

“You haven’t. We don’t need you that way anymore, remember?” Fred told her. “This was because I wanted to. And George wants to, too, but he’ll be okay to wait until you have a moment with him. It’s not like before.”

“It’s hard to adjust to,” she said, though the sigh that came out of her was contented rather than worried.

“Do you regret it?” Fred asked, sweeping her hair back so he could nibble on her neck again. Merlin, the man was obsessed with nibbling at her most ticklish spots.

“Not a bit,” Hermione assured him. “I feel like we can finally live freely.”

“We can—” Fred started to agree. He was cut off by a scream from outside, somewhere down the hallway. For one solid moment, they both just stared at each other. Then they were scrambling for clothes and wands, not even bothering to tidy themselves before pouring out of the room battle ready.

Notes:

I would love to hear any and all suggestions on what they should name the house!

Chapter 47

Fred’s heart was hammering as they burst from his office. He tried to get ahead of her, but of course Hermione wouldn’t allow it. She ran ahead, toward two bodies on the ground and a screaming Mafalda Hopkirk. Of course it would be that ditzy witch. But there were bodies on the floor, he supposed he could forgive her for screaming instead of doing something.

However, his heart stopped when he realized there was a very familiar head of hair matching his own on one of the bodies. Hermione turned Ron over. It had to be Ron, Fred realized — he was wearing Auror robes. He could hear the sigh of relief when she confirmed he was breathing.

Stepping to the side, Fred rolled over the other body, a woman he didn’t recognize but knew he had seen in the sardine can they called a meeting room earlier. One of the new ones, then. So either Lady Doge or Lady Bulstrode. Whichever she was, she was breathing and that was the important part.

Hopkirk was still screaming. “For Merlin’s sake, woman, stop that and go get the Aurors,” Fred snapped.

She did finally stop caterwauling, but it was unnecessary to get the Aurors, as others had been attracted by the screams as well and a contingent of Aurors were arriving. Fred recognized only Robards by name, but several others were familiar.

“What happened here?” Robards barked.

“Hermione and I were in my office and heard screams,” Fred explained quickly since Hermione was ignoring him, whispering with the Auror who was running a diagnostic over Ron.

Hopkirk looked like she couldn’t have spoken if her life depended on it, even though everyone turned now to her. With a sigh, Robards turned to one of the female Aurors, whose face hardened with irritation as he spoke. “Auror Bailey, take Ms. Hopkirk to one of the inquiry rooms. Get her a Calming Draught and a nice cup of tea and see if you can have a conversation about what happened.”

“Yes, sir,” the witch replied with a cross look. Fred didn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have wanted that job either.

“Ennervate them as soon as you know it’s safe,” Robards snapped at the Aurors next to Ron and the girl. “I want to know what happened to my two most promising trainees to bring them down.”

Two trainees. So Lady Bulstrode. Ron’s partner, Millie. She was a pretty girl, Fred observed as the Auror at his feet began to cast. Not pretty enough to compete with Hermione, of course, but then no girl was in his eyes.

He refocused his attention on Ron as the Ennervate brought his eyes flickering open. The moment they were, his hands went to his head. “Oh Merlin, what happened?” Ron asked.

“That’s what we want to know,” Robards said, more a demand than a statement.

“I don’t…” Millie began, trailing off. Then she shook her head and said, “I do remember some things, but… not the important bit.”

“Do tell,” Robards bit out. Apparently Ron hadn’t been exaggerating when he whined about the man’s lack of patience. Their training must be brutal.

“I was surrounded. And they threatened me — that they would Imperius me and… and marry me off.” Millie looked furious. “But I don’t know who it was. They were wearing expensive robes. And I could guess. But I don’t… I just don’t know. Their faces, their voices, everything important is a blank.”

“Weasley?” Robards barked, making Fred jump before he realized that the man was talking to Ron.

“I was walking by when I heard a commotion. I listened around the corner for a few minutes, long enough to hear them threaten to Imperius her and the marriage thing. When I stepped in, they had her wand but she had punched one of them. I don’t know who, but I can still see his nose dripping blood. She was doing good, but there were five of them.”

Ron almost sounded like he was defending the girl he commonly snarled about and called names. Fred’s curiosity engaged, though this wasn’t the time for his questions.

“Obliviation,” the Auror next to Ron huffed. Looking to Ron, he asked, “Can I go in? See if I can find anything?”

For a moment, Fred thought Ron was going to say no, but he never got the chance. Millie offered, “You can use Legilimency on me. I want to know who did this!”

The Auror beside Ron moved, focusing on Millie. After a few minutes, he looked away, shaking his head. “They did an unfortunately good job. This will take finesse I don’t have.”

“The hallway isn’t the place for that,” Robards said decisively. “Get them in a room. Now.”

The other Aurors helped Millie while Fred and Hermione helped Ron to his feet. He teetered for a moment before righting himself. “Thank you, both,” Ron said. Then, glancing to Hermione’s neck, he added with a cheeky grin, “Sorry if we interrupted anything.”

Hermione blushed, but Fred grinned back. “No, we had finished, thanks.”

What Ron would have said next, Fred wasn’t sure. Robards snapped, “Weasley,” and he was gone, leaving Hermione and Fred alone in the hall.

“What do we do now?” Hermione asked quietly, her arms wrapped around herself.

He replaced them with his own, trying to hug the worry away. “First, we go back to my office and make ourselves presentable. Then we go home and wait for Ron to join us.”

********

Ron’s head hurt. It was pounding, feeling like someone had taken a knife to it and cut a bit out. In all honesty, though, he was confused as to why they hadn’t taken more. Well, he was until he saw Millie’s expression. Those bastards left the memory to scare her.

Not that she was fully showing it. The face she wore was brave, but Ron knew better. He remembered the determined but frightened look she had when he stepped around that corner. This look wasn’t much different.

They were going to figure out who did this, and they were going to fucking pay. Ron wasn’t about to let his partner go through this kind of pain and fear without backup. That was what partners were for, right?

Marching into a room, Ron barely realized where he was until Millie asked, “Why are we in an interrogation room?”

“To get as much of the story pieced together as we can,” Robards said. Ron could tell from his tone that their trainer was furious, though whether it was at them or their unknown assailants, Ron wasn’t sure. Both, most likely.

“We need you to sit here,” Auror Smith said, indicating a chair at a small table across from him. “Bulstrode first.”

Millie sat, only looking a tiny bit apprehensive. She was doing a lot better than he felt. “Tell me how they got you cornered?” Auror Smith asked.

With a sigh, she launched into her story. “I was returning to my office from the meeting room. I have a lot of work to do in there, a lot to learn. My Aunt Myrtle never intended to pass the seat to me. She was waiting for me to produce an Heir she could be proud of, as if I would raise a child to be that.”

“This morning, Bulstrode,” Robards refocused her.

“Yes, sorry,” Millie said, fidgeting with the sleeve of her formal robes. Ron realized suddenly that the rambling was an indication of how nervous she was. “They came at me just outside my office. There were more of them than I could focus on at first and they hit me with a wand summoning charm before I realized they were there to confront me. That’s when the threats began. They were small at first, saying I wanted to be careful how I vote, that I don’t want to look like a blood traitor, that things happen to blood traitors.”

“Was there something you voted on that made them react this way?” Auror Smith asked her.

Despite her nerves, Millie scoffed. “My actions do not dictate what others do. They made the choice to threaten me all on their own, whoever they are. However, if you’re asking if they may have been disturbed by something I voted on, they probably didn’t like it when I voted with Harry Potter’s suggestion on the number of days per week that we would meet. I don’t know why that would matter so much to them. Perhaps it was just the symbolism of siding with Potter and thinking they needed to scare me into compliance before I could vote ‘wrong’ on something important.”

“You think there are wrong ways to vote?” Auror Smith questioned.

“I certainly do, but it is none of your business and not a part of this investigation,” Millie said without batting an eye. She had bollocks of steel, that girl. Ron found himself feeling grudging respect.

“So they threatened you and they had your wand. What happened next?”

“They said there was a marriage contract. And implied they would use it to control me,” she said with a shudder.

“Is there a marriage contract for you?” Robards asked.

“At one point there was,” she growled. “With the Flint family.”

“There is not now?” Aurir Smith queried.

“Malcolm Flint very dramatically set fire to it in front of Aunt Myrtle. I was bea— punished for ruining the family prospects at the time. As far as I know the contract no longer exists,” Millie said, looking worried. “How could I find out?”

“That will be a question for later,” Robards admonished. “Focus, Bulstrode.”

Glaring right back at him, Millie said, “It could be relevant now. If I have a contract with someone, then we know who was threatening me.”

“Based on the part of the conversation they left,” Auror Smith said, after another round of Legilimency, “it seems obvious it must have been Flint. The burning incident is mentioned in the conversation.”

“Is it obvious enough to arrest him?” Robards demanded. He looked ready to charge in.

Auror Smith sighed, “We could bring him in, but if he didn’t agree to Legilimency or Veritaserum, it is doubtful we could hold him.”

Robard growled. “They don’t get away with attacking these two.”

Ron started, surprised that he and Millie were of that much importance. Though, maybe it was just an Auror pride thing.

“We’ll get him,” Auror Smith said consolingly.

“Them,” Robards corrected. “Go on.”

“The one threatening marriage called me a little bitch, so I punched him,” Millie said with a small smile. At least she had gotten that in. “That’s when all five of them started advancing on me and Ron appeared.”

She looked over at him and Ron was shocked to see that her eyes were a little glassy. What was that about?

“He demanded they return my wand to me, but while he was directing the one with my wand to do that, one of the others cast Incarcerous and Obliviate on him. Honestly, I’m shocked they didn’t do worse. That’s the last thing I remember, but… I feel… wrong, somehow. I’m not sure what it is. Just, my magic feels dirty.”

Robards and Auror Smith glanced at each other and the younger man went back into his Legilimency trance. When he came out of it, he shook his head. “Nothing. They either put her under before they did whatever it was or Obliviated it away.”

“Can you get around the Obliviations?” Robards asked.

Auror Smith shook his head. “Whoever it was is damn good. Maybe Unspeakable Marsden could.”

“Only maybe?” Robards questioned.

“They were very thorough,” the Auror replied.

Robards grunted. “Try Weasley.”

It was the same thing with him. Ron went through the whole story of what he heard, letting them pick it apart and pick through his brain. But there was nothing for Auror Smith to find. Ron’s head was pounding by the time the man finally pulled out completely and told Robards, “There’s nothing else.”

Robards cursed, then commanded, “Give them both a headache potion. You, too, Smith.”

All three of them seemed relieved at that, but Ron should have known the idea of being done was too good to be true.

“Now, let me see if I get this straight. Weasley, you saw a fellow Auror in distress and you didn’t get backup before heading into a situation where you knew you were clearly outnumbered?”

“She needed immediate help,” Ron defended.

“Apparently she didn’t since you took the time to listen in for a few minutes,” Robards snapped. “Which was a good idea, assessing the situation, but you should have gotten help.”

“Well I—”

“You were in the hallway leading to our offices. Don’t even try to tell me we were too far away or some fuckery. If we had been too far away, you send a Patronus,” Robards chastised. “And you, Bulstrode, letting yourself get cornered like that. From now on, your partner escorts you to and from Wizengamot meetings.”

“What if they just outnumber us in larger numbers?” she asked.

“There are, thank fuck, only so many Dark Houses left. For them to completely outnumber you, they’ll have to have a lot of suspicious looking cronies wandering these halls. We’ll be more vigilant in the area in general.”

“How are we going to have enough people for that?” Millie demanded to know. She was right, Ron realized. The department was struggling to cover everything already.

“That is not your problem or your place to question,” Robards snapped. “We’re done here. Don’t you two dare forget to call for backup again. And don’t you,” he pointed at Millie, “forget that you’re just a trainee here.”

Millie’s cheeks were red, whether from fury or embarrassment, Ron wasn’t sure but he knew he didn’t want to find out. “Why don’t we get out of here?” he murmured, guiding her out of the interrogation room by the shoulders.

“Can you believe him?” Millie demanded. “He acted like—” she cut herself off and just growled in frustration. Frankly, Ron wasn’t sure what her point was. Robards had just been looking out for her after all. Not that he was going to tell her that. His emotional range may not have increased much, but he could tell when a woman was incensed and when he should bloody well stay out of it.

“Let’s get you into your office and calmed down,” Ron said in as soothing a voice as he could manage.

“Did you just tell me to calm down?” Millie asked in a mock sweet tone. Maybe he should have just left her to her own devices. If he could? Ron wasn’t sure if he was to accompany her any time she was in her Wizengamot offices or not. Better to err on the safe side.

If you could count being in a room with an enraged Millicent Bullstrode as the safe side.

*********

Bill wasn’t entirely comfortable in the room alone with Percy and Kingsley whispering sweet nothings to each other, but he didn’t dare leave either. Merlin only knew if the ridiculous staff would allow him back in the room with someone else there. He hated St. Mungos, but the curse Percy had been hit with was too much for Madam Pomfrey to have handled.

Still, the rules about the number of people allowed were ludicrous, and he wasn’t sure how much longer they were going to be willing to pretend to follow them.

He was relieved when Kingsley stood from the chair by Percy’s bed and said, “Thank you for the privacy, Bill. Before I go, I need to tell you something dire.”

Knowing whatever it was must be truly horrible considering the look on Kingsley’s face, Bill sighed. “Of course,” he answered.

“We know how Dolohov had enough power to circumvent the chamber’s wards,” Kingsley paused, perhaps for dramatic flare, perhaps just because he was having a hard time saying it. “They have the Elder Wand. We thought… well, Harry destroyed a piece of it, so we thought they wouldn’t be able to use it, but they seem to have found some way around that.”

“Harry?” Bill repeated, trying to follow how the boy had become involved.

Percy was just cursing. “I watched him destroy that piece down in the Department of Mysteries,” he declared. “And the Unspeakables assured us that would solve the problem.”

“Unfortunately, they don’t actually know everything, no matter how much they think they do,” Kingsley replied. “This appears to be a time when they were wrong.”

“What do we know about the Elder Wand?” Percy asked, his whole demeanor snapped to attention. Bill knew his brother wanted out of that bed so he could begin researching and collating information.

“Not much, frankly,” Kingsley admitted. “Just what the legend says. And that Dumbledore had it for years without putting it to much use vanquishing foes. Voldemort only used it for torturing and killing. He didn’t think of it for this kind of terrorism.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” Bill said. He couldn’t even imagine the horrors that creature could have inflicted on their world if he had.

“Fortunately, he was so focused on Harry, he lost sight of other things he could have done. Dolohov is less obsessed. I’m sure he would like to bring down his former Master’s conqueror, but he seems to be looking at the bigger picture,” Kingsley stated.

“Or he’s finding more public venues to attack Harry in,” Bill noted. Dolohov had been going after Harry — and Hermione.

Kingsley sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t have noticed that. But then again, maybe it’s best that you realize it. Be careful. With all of your family.”

“We will be,” Bill vowed. He wasn’t letting any of them go anywhere alone.

“Good,” Kingsley said before leaning over and giving Percy a kiss that made Bill feel like a voyeur. “I’ll see you when I can,” he promised Percy and then was gone.

“We need to have a family meeting,” Percy said. It was practically a demand.

“I know we do, but the hospital—”

“Isn’t going to stop us. We’re the Weasleys. And Harry with his invisibility cloak. They can’t stop us. And once we’re all here, they’re not getting us out either,” Percy said with surety.

“No, we really can’t—” Bill tried to protest. Percy leveled him with an unimpressed look and suddenly Bill had a sinking feeling that they were, in fact, going to make this happen.

*******

Percy watched as the last of his siblings, this time George, appeared from under the invisibility cloak. Poor Harry had gone in and out of the building repeatedly until they had managed to sneak the entire family, including Fleur and Harry himself, into St. Mungos and all the way to Percy’s room. Now they just had to hope that no Healers came in.

He grinned when he noticed that Bill was warding the room. Maybe they wouldn’t have to worry about that after all.

“Bill, you can’t ward a St. Mungo’s room like this,” Ron protested. Was his youngest brother actually going to become a rule follower? “What if they try to get in?” No, then.

“They won’t,” Bill said smugly. “Or if they do, they’ll promptly forget what they were doing and wander off to do something else. I modified muggle repelling charms.”

“You are breelliant, Beel,” Fleur gushed, kissing his cheek.

“I’m glad to see everyone,” Charlie said, “but what was so important that this couldn’t wait a couple of days for Percy to be home?”

As the rest of his family settled into conjured seats, Percy worried about the topic he needed to bring up — his proclivities and the poor choices he had made about Hermione. What would they think? What would they say?

Setting aside his feelings about it, Percy charmed the quill he had asked for earlier to take notes. He wanted to do it himself, but he knew he didn’t have the stamina. Hermione smiled at him when she saw what he had done.

Bill stood in front of everyone and said, “I’m sure we have a lot to talk about, but the first thing is about safety for all of us. Kingsley gave us some top secret information today, and a warning to be careful.” Everyone watched him, anticipating the worst. “Antonin Dolohov has the Elder Wand.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry said with a tight smile. “I destroyed a piece and—”

Shaking his head, Bill looked regretful as he said, “They found some way around it. They used the Elder Wand to attack the Wizengamot chamber.”

“Merlin fuck,” Harry cursed vehemently. “As if we need another awful thing to deal with.”

“We don’t, but at least we’re forewarned now,” Bill said gravely. “None of us are to be anywhere alone. The more of us we can have together at any given time, the better.”

“And with the new house actually being ours now,” Charlie began but was interrupted by cheers around the room. He grinned before continuing, “we need it warded to the highest degree and as many of us behind those wards at all times as possible. I think, the way the magic of the house loves our Weasley magic, it will work to protect us, too.”

“I’ll handle the wards first thing tomorrow,” Bill said. “Do you mind helping me, love?” he asked Fleur.

She looked suddenly shy, biting her lip. “I would like to, Beel, but I ‘ave accepted weeth Kingsley to ‘elp een ze chamber.”

He blinked, looking gobsmacked and Percy thought he understood. Bill would have expected to be asked.

“I’ll need to be with you then,” he finally said. “I don’t want any of us alone.”

“Non, Beel. I must do thees by myself. But zey might allow Ronald and ‘is partner to be weeth me eef I ask.”

Bill was clearly not taking that well, but Charlie drew him out of it by clapping their eldest brother on the shoulder and saying, “I’ll come with you to ward the house. We’ll be together and I can maybe help if you tell me what to do.”

Snorting at that, Bill’s smile returned. “We’ll see. Hermione, could you come, too?”

“I can,” she agreed. “As long as someone is here with Percy.”

“He does have an Auror guard,” Ron pointed out.

“I would still feel better if one of us is with him,” Bill said.

Fred shook his head. “George and I need to spend some time at the shop.”

“Guess it’s me, then,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes, but smiling over at Percy to let him know she didn’t mean it.

“Maybe your Mum could come be with the two of you, too,” Harry suggested.

Percy blinked. It was a good idea. He had enjoyed her sitting with him this morning. As much strife as she had caused with the family, Percy didn’t want to be estranged from her. He understood what it was like to go temporarily crazy thinking you were doing the right thing when you weren’t.

“I would like that,” he admitted hesitantly.

“So would I,” Ginny agreed. “I want her advice about some things.”

Charlie and Fred shifted uncomfortably, the two of them struggling most with her being back in their lives, but Percy was pleased that neither of them protested.

“Harry, where will you be?” Bill checked.

The boy put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t feel right leaving Andromeda and Teddy alone very often. I know they’ve got good wards and everything, but… I don’t want to lose them.”

“Once we have the house set up, you’re welcome to bring them over any time. We have enough rooms, we could set one up for them,” Charlie suggested.

The look of relief and awe on Harry’s face was telling. “You’re family here, Harry,” Hermione said gently. “That makes Andromeda and Teddy family, too. We would never exclude them — or you.”

“At some point, I need to get back to working on Grimmauld,” Harry stated, “but it can wait until after they can be left at your house.”

“What are we calling the house?” Fred asked.

“Not here!” Charlie interrupted, almost panicking. “We need to discuss her name there at the house. So she can let us know which one is right for her.”

George nodded vigorously. “She wants to be part of the process, and it will only make the magic stronger.”

“She?” Bill questioned.

“You didn’t notice that when you were there?” Charlie asked, incredulous.

“Well, now that you mention it,” he agreed with a sheepish shrug. Even Percy had felt the house’s energy, and now that he thought about it, it was definitely feminine.

“Start thinking of names you want to throw out, but we won’t talk of them ‘til we’re all there together,” Charlie said decisively. Considering his normal penchant for staying away from family decision-making, Percy was surprised. From the looks on faces around the room, he wasn’t the only one.

Bill certainly seemed taken aback, but then his smile spread slowly and he nodded at Charlie. “That’s right,” he agreed. “When we have time, we each need to work on moving what we want into the new house.”

“Is it ready for that?” Ginny asked doubtfully. “It needed a lot of work, didn’t it?”

“Not a whole lot,” Charlie disagreed. “Only one bedroom was affected, and I’ll take that one. We’ll get the work done fast on it anyway, I hope.”

“Have you talked to someone about it?” Fred asked.

“No,” Charlie admitted, “but there are several contractors working at Hogwarts now I could ask.”

“Oh, I’ve already talked to Joe,” Hermione remembered.

“Who’s Joe?” Ginny piped up before Charlie could ask.

“He’s one of the muggleborn representatives on the Wizengamot. He also happens to be a contractor,” Fred explained. “And unlike the ones at Hogwarts, he may not have anything lined up at the moment.” Charlie nodded at the wisdom of that.

“He is working at Hogwarts, actually, but he said he can perhaps do the work in the evenings. I’ll owl him,” Hermione said, pulling another quill and more parchment from her beaded bag. It took only a moment for her to write her note, the conversation moving around her as she did.

“I thought you were going to fix it yourself?” Ron asked Charlie.

“Are you volunteering to help me?” Charlie asked with a smirk. They all knew that wasn’t what Ron meant and his spluttering confirmed it. There was laughter all around, even as Ron squared his shoulders.

“I could help,” he insisted.

“Even if it meant research?” Hermione teased.

“You don’t know how to do it either?” Ron asked Charlie incredulously.

“I may have built a cabin or two at the Sanctuary, but I’m not qualified to do it for a living. There are plenty of projects that are too big for me and, unfortunately, the dining room is one of those. The damage has to be repaired correctly or the flooring of the room above might not hold right,” Charlie explained.

“Well, that wouldn’t be good,” Ron acknowledged, seeming unsure what else to say.

Ginny snorted. “Of course it wouldn’t be good.”

“Cut your brother some slack,” Bill admonished her.

Ginny stuck her tongue out at both of them, settling deeper into her chair. Percy noticed that she seemed content with her contribution and fought the urge to roll his eyes. Sometimes, if she didn’t have anything to say in a situation, she just had to insert her contrariness for the fun of it, or so it seemed to him. Maybe it was about keeping his brothers from becoming too complacent.

Percy realized suddenly that he had been drifting off a bit and missed part of the conversation. Thank Merlin the quill taking down everything everyone said wasn’t attached to his own consciousness.

It was frustrating to know he was still so tired, so weak. Percy shook his head. He still wasn’t paying proper attention. The shop. They were discussing something about the shop and new inventions… and nightmare daydreams? He clearly wasn’t following things.

“Are you feeling okay?” Hermione asked quietly enough that the quill wouldn’t pick her up. She came up beside him, a hand going to his forehead.

“I’m fine,” Percy insisted. “Just tired.”

“We could take the rest of the meeting somewhere else,” she suggested.

“No!” he protested. He still needed to bring up the things he had done, but the very idea was draining. No, the real reason he protested was that he didn’t want to be left out. He wasn’t in that bad of shape. Though, based on the look Hermione was giving him, maybe he was worse off than he thought.

“Fine then,” she finally said, taking his hand. “I want an honest answer to this next question.” Turning from him, she interrupted the conversation about the twins’ products to say, “We haven’t talked about the schedule. I want to know if anyone, well, needs time with me.”

There was silence for a long moment. Charlie broke it. “I desperately want time with you, but it feels different than it did before.”

Ginny shrugged. “I’m fine. I want to spend time with you and Harry and Ron, but more in a hangout way, like we were before.”

“You want—” Hermione cut herself off and Percy felt like she was a little upset. He could feel her hand shaking slightly. “You don’t want things to be like… like they have been?”

“Well you’re not getting rid of me,” Ginny said with certainty. “But I could be just as happy hanging out as doing anything else unless I’m in the mood.”

“Ewww,” Ron complained. “I don’t want to hear about my sister being ‘in the mood’ for anything!”

Hermione breathed a sigh of… was that relief? Percy thought it was. She looked toward him next. “What about you?”

“I’ve had you here with me since yesterday,” he pointed out.

“And I’m not leaving until you’re out of here!” she insisted stubbornly.

He squeezed her hand before saying, “If you’re asking if I still love you — if we all still love you — I think the answer is yes all around. It certainly is for me.” There was agreement around the room but Percy went on. “The uncomfortable feeling I sometimes had if it had been too long since we spent time together is gone. I still want you near, but it’s not a need in the same way.”

“We miss you,” George said, nodding at Fred and gesturing down to himself. “And I think it’s a bit more for us like it might have been for the others before. I’m a little uncomfortable from having not seen you in a while, but even being this close to you is fixing it. We don’t — I don’t need you like I did before, but you’re still a piece of my soul, just like Fred is.”

Fleur took a step toward Hermione, her other hand grabbing Bill. “You are steel my mate, steel Beel’s lover. But ‘e does not need you like ‘e deed. Eet eez much better since ze ritual. As for me, I weel be content until my Veela comes out again.”

“Does… does that happen often?” Hermione asked.

The tinkling sound of Fleur’s laughter slid down Percy’s back. It rarely had much effect on him, but perhaps because he was so tired, it had more of an impact than usual. “Non, petit amour. Not often,” she assured Hermione.

He could only describe Hermione’s face as relieved. How quickly things had changed — going from practically forcing themselves together to all of them fearing the bond might break. Percy wanted to laugh but he didn’t have the energy.

Hermione seemed to notice. “I think we should let Percy rest,” he heard her say. “I’m here with him until they release him, though I think others could rotate in and out now.” She looked to Bill and he nodded.

“We’ll have a meeting to figure out schedules once Percy is home,” Bill decided.

“And I’ll make sure you have a new home to come to,” Charlie declared.

Percy blinked. He hadn’t really thought about moving, about having a home with his siblings. He had his flat, alone, where things were precisely the way he liked them. Yes, he had contributed to purchasing the Manor, but he hadn’t really thought about the practicalities of it. A feeling of warmth washed over him. Home.

********

Hermione began shooing everyone away, kissing them each, some passionately, some softly, until the only ones left were herself, Charlie, and Percy. She went to Charlie. “I miss you, too, you know,” she told him. “I want to be with you.”

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me tonight,” he said with a small smile.

Taken by surprise, Hermione said, “I’m just here at St. Mungo’s tonight. There are Aurors. You don’t need to lose sleep—”

“I won’t, love,” Charlie promised. “I just want to be near you. I’m not asking you for anything.”

“I didn’t mean to imply you were. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Hermione told him. She had intended to focus on Percy, but glancing over, he was already asleep. She tried not to worry. His diagnostic looked good and the Healers kept saying he was going to be fine. He was just so tired that it concerned her.

She excused herself from Charlie for a moment, going to check and be sure Percy was comfortable. Hermione knew she was fussing senselessly, but it felt important to be sure he was well taken care of. He always took such good care of her.

When she had done everything she could think of and Percy slept on, she returned to Charlie, who was seated in a comfortable-looking armchair that hadn’t been in the room before. It was big enough for two even when one of them was a very large dragon tamer and Hermione found she was glad. Without a word, she climbed into the chair next to him, smiling when his arm slipped around her.

“I feel like I haven’t spent time with you in ages,” he said quietly.

“It’s been since before the ritual, at least,” Hermione agreed. Granted, that had only been a few days ago, but it still felt like a long time.

“Indeed,” Charlie agreed. He pulled her closer, snuggling her body against his own and Hermione burrowed in against him. She just felt so at ease, protected and supported physically and emotionally, when Charlie was around. It must be his size, she guessed, but she loved it and had missed the feeling lately. “I wish I had a book to read to you,” he hummed.

“I have some in my bag,” she told him, lazily gesturing to where it sat across the room in her chair by Percy’s bed. “But I would rather just be with you right now if you’re okay with it.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding astounded. Had she made him feel like she wouldn’t enjoy time with him somehow?

“Yes, really. We haven’t talked in a while either. I don’t even know what you’ve been spending your days on while I’ve been locked away with the Wizengamot,” Hermione complained, poking him in the chest as she said it.

Charlie beamed down at her. “Well, a lot of my time has been spent at Hogwarts up until now. Working on my office and lesson plans and rebuilding. There’s a lot to be done there. And there are a lot of creatures in the Forbidden Forest that need attention.”

“I hadn’t thought about them,” Hermione admitted. “I’ve been worried about the centaurs since one of the Lords made an offhand comment about them—“

“What about them?” Charlie asked earnestly. “They’ll hardly come near me.”

“I don’t know,” she said in frustration. “Something about them being unhappy and making threats.” She felt bad. He looked troubled now.

“They helped clear out the Acromantula nests when I first came—“

“You cleared out Acromantula nests!?” Hermione gasped.

“I was part of it, yes. It needed to be done. You know I don’t like hurting creatures, but after the way they behaved during the battle... They were an infestation.” Charlie’s tone was hard and Hermione realized he had been forced to coach himself through what was necessary. She loved him all the more for it.

Explaining himself a little more calmly, Charlie said, “There are a lot of creatures in the forest that were harmed by the dark ones. They needed help and still do. So I’ve been doing what I can. It would be easier if the centaurs felt friendlier but I understand their reluctance to be involved with wizards.”

“I’m sure it’s hard for them to trust any of us,” Hermione agreed. Charlie’s eyes lit up that she understood.

“It is,” he agreed. “And hard for the creatures to trust, too, even Hagrid’s herds. I’ve had to er… well, get rid of the Blast-Ended Skrewts, too. They’re too dangerous to have around children so I sent them to a Sanctuary.”

Hermione could only feel relieved about that. “I think that’s for the best,” she agreed. “So you’ve been working with the creatures. What else?”

“You’re not trying to get inside information on Care of Magical Creatures now, are you?” Charlie asked teasingly. “If I tell you about my lesson plans, you have to pretend to be surprised.”

She laughed. “Of course,” she agreed and then smiled up at him as he began to tell her all about his plans for the classes. Despite having dropped Care of Magical Creatures after OWLs, Charlie had let her back in for this year. Merlin knew he was going to make a much better teacher than Hagrid ever thought about being and she wanted to learn from him.

Leaning her head against his chest, Hermione enjoyed the way the deep timbre of his voice vibrated there. She didn’t remember drifting off, but it was hours later when she woke, wrapped in Charlie’s arms, curled up on his lap. When had that happened? He couldn’t possibly be comfortable.

Yet he had a contented smile on his face and Hermione was loathe to move, just deciding to go back to sleep with her head on his shoulder when she heard a low moan from the bed. Gently, she removed herself from Charlie’s embrace, putting a thin blanket over him before heading over to check on Percy.

His blue eyes looked overly bright and she found him hot to the touch. “I think you have a fever,” she murmured, though he wasn’t conscious.

Well, she thought he wasn’t until he responded. “Yes, I think so, too. Could you— is there a fever reducer here? I don’t want to get the Healers.”

“Percy, they may need to see you. This could be a sign of infection or… or something worse,” Hermione worried.

He shook his head. “You know I’ve had fevers off and on. I know Bill was handling the potions before, but it’s one of them right over there.” Percy shakily pointed to a counter filled with potions bottles. She couldn’t believe they had entrusted so many potions to them. But then, perhaps the Weasleys were getting a reputation for ignoring symptoms to avoid the Healers.

Hermione also couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed all those potions before. She did remember his other fevers, especially spiking at night. Her worry became more manageable as she fetched him the needed potion.

When his fever immediately broke, Percy gave a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. “Are you going back to bed?” Hermione asked.

“Maybe,” he hedged. “I haven’t really left it, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Smartarse. You know what I meant.”

“I do.” He hesitated for a moment. “I know you were cozy with Charlie, but… would you mind to lie down with me for a while?”

“I don’t know if there’s room to do that in your bed,” Hermione said regretfully. She would love to snuggle up to him, be comforted by his steady heartbeat and the breath coming and going from his lungs.

Percy smiled at her with fondness and exasperation. “Ron said you tend to forget you're a witch sometimes. You could make it bigger.”

He was right, of course. She could have hit herself in the head for forgetting. Without even answering, Hermione stuck her nose in the air and went about the process of setting the bed properly to have space for both of them.

She wasn’t sure why she bothered, of course, since she had no intention of being on her side of the bed, but it was courteous, perhaps. Slowly, she crawled into the bed, making sure not to disturb any of the monitoring equipment they had above Percy.

When she was snuggled into his side, Percy smiled. “This is what I’ve missed.”

“Me in a hospital bed with you?” Hermione quipped.

“Just you,” he told her. Then a frown creased his brow. “I owe you an apology. Few of them. Family too. Meant to tonight.” He was so tired, his speech was slightly slurred.

Hermione blinked at him. “What on earth for?”

“When we were together. I was… not right for you,” he said sleepily.

“When we were together? At the Lunar Tower? That night was amazing, Percy!” Hermione insisted, baffled.

He smiled at her, but shook his head. “Pushed you too far. Didn’t take good enough care of you. Miss Penny will fix us.”

“Miss Penny?” Hermione repeated. She knew who Miss Penny was, of course, but she had no idea what the mysterious woman would have to do with them. “I enjoyed everything that happened that night.” At least she knew that much.

Percy just shook his head again. “It will be better. You’ll see,” he murmured, but his eyes were closed.

“Okay,” Hermione agreed, stroking one of his errant curls down. She wasn’t going to get a straight explanation right now. Maybe they could talk in the morning. For now, she just wanted him to rest. And she felt her own eyes growing heavy, too.

Notes:

It will be a couple of chapters yet before we actually get to the naming of the house (because Percy has to be home), but I'm still interested in anything you may come up with. I *think* I'm going to go with "Something" Haven, so I would particularly love suggestions for what something might work best.

Also, for those still upset about the Percy/Hermione situation, I do actually have a plan for when they're going to have their next time together, but it's going to be several days for them, meaning a handful of chapters for us. There's a lot going on.

Chapter 48

Notes:

It's been a bit longer than I meant it to be, but such is real life sometimes. At any rate, I apologize for the delay and hope you enjoy the chapter!

But first... you may or may not be aware, but there has been a LOT of drama in the fandom community recently - mostly about Dramiones, but it can apply to any fanfiction - over people stealing fanfiction, binding it, and selling it on eBay and other such sites.

THIS IS NOT OKAY.

It's illegal for one thing, but also, it's very disrespectful to the authors, who do this FOR FREE and cannot profit from it. There was talk of a fanfiction blackout - taking down all our works for a week - but that is not happening. Instead, we want to educate readers who may not be in fandom spaces and understand.

If you want to support fanfic authors, the way to do so is with kind comments and kudos. It is the only reward we get for putting in the work to write these fics and, speaking from personal experience, it brightens our day hugely to receive a comment, even if it's something small. For some authors, this can make or break their desire to continue writing. I personally intend to keep writing no matter how many comments I receive, but that's not true for everyone so this is basic fanfic etiquette. And hey, I love getting the comments to and really enjoy engaging with you, my readers.

I'm going to add my "policies" at the beginning of the story, but basically - feel free to make art for or write in the same universe/fanon as me as long as you keep it free (and preferably share it with me - I want to support you!). I am fine with you downloading my work or even binding it for personal use or gift giving (though it would be nice if you drop me a comment), but don't sell it or use commercial companies to print it.

Thank you, everyone, for taking the time to read this author's note as well as the work itself. It means a lot to authors to pay attention to what they have to say.

As always, thank you to the team of people who helps me put this out to you as well!

Kissing Fleur goodbye, he held his smile until she was through the floo. As soon as she was gone, however, Bill’s face twisted into something far more like a pout than he was willing to admit.

He puttered into the kitchen of Shell Cottage, slamming dishes about until he heard a quiet throat clearing. Jumping out of his skin, Bill spun around, wand drawn, to find Charlie smirking at him.

“You’re losing your touch, big brother,” Charlie said. “I could’ve had the drop on you if I had wanted it.”

Bill lowered his wand, but he was scowling. He should have hexed his brother anyway, but he would hear him out first. Charlie continued, “If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re throwing yourself a little pity party because your wife is so well-respected she was asked to work on the Wizengamot chamber.”

Glowering now, Bill realized he should have hexed first. “What if I am?”

“Then I hope you were smart enough not to do it in front of her, at least.”

“Of course I didn’t do it in front of her,” Bill scoffed. “I’ve been married a lot longer than you. And I’m not a bloody idiot.”

“You’re certainly acting like one,” Charlie countered.

“What do you mean by that?”

“What I said,” Charlie told him with an eye roll. “You’re acting like an idiot.” He waited a beat to see if Bill would do anything beyond growl. When it was apparent he would not, Charlie sighed and went on. “Fleur is an amazing woman — who you married, you claim, for her intelligence and power rather than her beauty and Veela qualities. Be proud that she is so good they’ve asked for her help. Be proud that—”

“But what about mine?” Bill demanded. He just couldn’t seem to get his emotions under control today. “Why didn’t they ask me to help?”

Charlie shook his head. “As a member of the Wizengamot, I don’t think you’re eligible. They’re supposed to be protecting you, after all.”

Bill started to say something angry when he caught himself. “That’s actually a good point.”

“I do have them sometimes,” Charlie replied dryly.

Banging one last pan, Bill looked down at the sink and sighed. “I’m still feeling bitter about it.”

“Well, get over it, because I need your help at the house,” Charlie told him.

“The warding. I forgot all about that,” Bill admitted.

Shaking his head, Charlie asked, “Are you okay? You seem more out of sorts than I would expect.”

“The wolf doesn’t like not being alpha,” Bill said, working hard to keep his voice even.

“And it interprets her being chosen as her being above you in the hierarchy,” Charlie said, grasping it immediately now that they were talking in terms of animal instincts.

“Yes,” Bill said, glad he had finally gotten through to him.

Charlie grinned at him. “Well then, we need to go let you piss all over our new territory so you can feel like an alpha again.”

“We what?” Bill asked, taken aback. He wasn’t some bloody animal. He— cut his thoughts off when Charlie nearly doubled over laughing.

“You should see your face!”

“Is it as good as yours will be after I hit it?” Bill threatened. He was ready to make good on it, as well, but Charlie had him wrestled to the ground before he could think twice. His wolf really didn’t like that.

Charlie seemed to realize his mistake immediately, releasing Bill and letting him get the upper hand, but it was clear he was letting him win. Bill moved to put some space between them. It was taking far more effort than he liked to keep from actually hitting his brother.

“Let’s stop messing around and get those wards up,” Charlie said, rolling away and to a stand in one smooth motion that reminded Bill he played with dragons for a living. Or had done. “You can metaphorically piss all over the property by putting the wards up around everything. Unless you’re more wolf than I think you are—”

“I’m not,” Bill growled, sending Charlie into howls of laughter once more.

When he calmed down, he said, “We’ll have to apparate since the floo address hasn’t been named yet. Do you remember the coordinates?”

“Of course I do,” Bill grumbled. Without waiting for Charlie, he spun on his heel and popped away to the new house.

He landed in the sitting room, feeling immediately exposed by the lack of any wards whatsoever on the place. The realtor’s wards would have fallen the moment the contract was signed, and he hadn’t thought to tell Charlie or George to put up even rudimentary ones.

As Charlie appeared across the room, Bill told him, “We’ll need to check everything with Homenum Revelio. The house has been wide open to anyone who might want to get in.”

“She would let us know if someone—” Charlie began, running a hand down the nearest wall and smiling when the wood shook with pleasure.

“I’m sure she would know about herself,” Bill said, not wanting to offend the old girl in their first interaction as her owner, “though I want to be absolutely certain for Hermione, Ginny, and Fleur’s sakes,” he ignored Charlie’s snort; he was aware they could all three take care of themselves, but he wanted the house to know their protection was a priority, “but there’s a lot of land to cover as well.”

“And the barn and the outbuildings,” Charlie said with a nod. “I’ll go out and check—”

“No, you won’t,” Bill stated, drawing his brother up short. “We stick together.”

“This could take hours if we do that,” Charlie pointed out.

“Then it will take hours,” Bill shrugged, pushing up his sleeves. He was ready to do this right. All thoughts of his previous moping were gone now as he focused on their home and how he was going to take care of everyone in this way.

Before Charlie could protest, Bill walked toward the hearth. “I need to find the central stone of the hearth. I’ll sink runestones around the property, too, but inside the house, there’s no better place to connect than the hearthstone.”

The house gave a happy little tremble and one of the stones on the hearth began to glow faintly. Bill smiled. “Thank you,” he told her simply. What else did you say to a house, after all?

Walking over, he pulled a ceremonial dagger from his robes and recalled the ritual words his father had taught him long ago. There weren’t many pureblood traditions Arthur Weasley put much stock in, but protecting their home had always been one he practiced and passed on.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Charlie asked as he knelt next to Bill at the hearth.

“I could use a bit of your blood. Being the heir, it’ll be stronger with yours, too.”

His affirmation was simply to hold his hand out, palm up. Bill smiled at his quiet brother. Then he nodded before slicing across each of their palms and dribbling blood onto the stone.

The stone sucked it up greedily, then blended in with the rest of the stonework again. The house shuddered around them, seeming content in a way she hadn’t been before.

Bill’s ritual words were practically pulled from him, as though he hadn’t needed to remind himself of them at all.

“Hanc domum et terram protege in nomine familiae nostrae Weasley. Protege eos qui intus habitant, et quorum corda familia sunt. Hanc tuere domum, hunc portum. Ita fiat fiat.” (Protect this house and land in the name of our family Weasley. Protect all who dwell within and those whose hearts are family. Protect this home, this haven. So mote it be.)

Chanting it three times, Bill was happy when Charlie joined in the second time. He felt the power in the house rising as well; and Bill knew that this, here in their home, would be the most powerful warding he would ever do, no matter what spells he might use somewhere else.

As the brothers dropped more blood onto the hearthstone and his wand hand waved in the complicated patterns of the wards, he felt them snap into place. They would be weaker farther from the house until he added the runestones all around the property, but he needed to make those first.

Bill realized that he should have had them done already, but he honestly hadn’t thought of them at all. He had been too wrapped up in his own childish misery.

“You didn’t make the runestones yet, did you?” Charlie asked quietly as the Magic in the air dissipated and the house hummed happily around them with newfound strength.

“No,” Bill admitted.

Grinning, Charlie pulled a small dragonhide bag out of his knapsack. “I figured you might not have thought of them yet.”

Grumbling, Bill opened the sack and found a set of perfect runestones, ready for carving except for six that already had a rune he didn’t recognize on them. “What’s this?”

“Those are for the barns and lean-tos where I thought we might keep some animals. It’s a Romanian rune to help protect magical creatures. We put it all over the sanctuary,” Charlie concluded a little wistfully.

Bill smiled at his brother. “Then I’m glad we’ll have it to protect our creatures.”

The beaming smile Charlie gave him warmed Bill’s heart as the two of them sat down to begin carving the rest of the stones.

**********

A great boom came from the potion they had been stirring only moments before. George could hear it from where he was magically held against the wall. It was one of the failsafes in the back room — that when something in the cauldrons became too volatile, anyone in the room was magically pressed to the sides, surrounded by a bubble to protect from potential splatter or toxic fumes. It worked most of the time and thankfully had today, considering the thick goop that now covered what had been the table beneath it, but was rapidly melting away to nothing. Very volatile indeed.

Fred laughed beside him, and George was thrilled to hear it. Far too much time had passed since they had worked in here together. Hell, too much time had passed since they blew something up together. He was as giddy about it as his twin.

“Merlin’s tits, that’s going to be a bitch to clean up,” George swore with a laugh.

“That it is, Twin-O-Mine,” Fred agreed. “But we’re up to the challenge.”

“With a spot of magic to help,” George said with a wink. There was no reason to put on a show when it was just for each other, but they did anyway. As Fred had always counseled, showmanship needed to be practiced like any other skill.

Once the threat was gone, the automatic spell released them, letting the two men move forward with their wands already swishing rapidly as they chanted containment and cleansing spells in tandem. The sludge that had been their table was too far gone to repair, but Fred transfigured a new one from the remaining table leg in a very impressive bout of magic as George vanished the oozing, bubbling potion remnants from the bottom of the cauldron into their disposal unit out back. Hopefully it didn’t melt that, too, but the containment spell should hold it.

Satisfied that it was properly cleaned up, Fred dusted off his hands and asked, “Shall we try that again?”

“Of course, Freddie. Perhaps we chop the billywig stings this time?”

“And add a few less,” he agreed.

Quickly gathering fresh ingredients, the twins grinned at each other as they began to brew again. “Do you think we’ll get it this time?” George asked.

“Not yet,” Fred told him. “Not for a few more tries, probably. But the Whack-O-Matic Ping Pong Pixie Sticks will be ready before the school rush.” He was as confident as George felt with his brother by his side. It was so much easier to have the creative juices flowing when they were together.

He wanted Fred to do the important work he was called to, but George felt his absence keenly from the shop. He was grateful they would soon be able to spend at least a couple of days a week together.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door flying open. “Are you two okay?” Hermione demanded, staring around at the pristine backroom. Well, still cluttered and messy, but the exploded potion was all cleaned up.

“We’re fine,” Fred said with a slowly spreading smile, “In fact, even better with you here.”

She gave him a look. “I’m meant to be with Percy and you know it. None of that.” She shook her finger at Fred, and George noticed as he looked her over that she still had love bites on her neck from Fred. At least, he thought they were from Fred based on the emotions he had gotten through the bond yesterday.

“Are you sure?” George asked beseechingly, fluttering his eyelashes at her. He was only playing around, but he did miss her fiercely, her touch and just time talking with her.

Hermione blushed as she said, “I’m not, but I feel like I should be there…” She trailed off, obviously having a hard time deciding what to do next.

“But you’re already here,” Fred noted, slipping his arms around her waist in a familiar move. George felt a pang that he wasn’t included and moved to correct the problem, holding her from behind. “What are you doing here, by the way?”

“I set an alarm to let me know when the failsafe triggers, so I can make sure you haven’t hurt yourselves,” Hermione explained.

“What will you do if it triggers while you’re doing something important?” George asked.

“I’m not sure anything is more important than the two of you,” she said, blushing again. She was very responsive to their flirting today and George loved it.

“Bollocks,” Fred replied. “You have other spice who need you. And there’s the Wizengamot that you can’t just pop out of, and the Muggleborn Coalition, and—”

“Yes, yes,” Hermione agreed, “If I have to, I’ll send a patronus to someone who can check on you instead. Happy?”

“With you sandwiched between us?” asked Fred, wiggling his eyebrows and pressing his body closer, pushing her back against George as well. “Very.”

George couldn’t see her rolling her eyes, but he knew her well enough to be sure she had. “I should get back to St. Mungo’s” she said, a regretful note in her voice.

Unable to help himself, George’s arms tightened around her even as Fred backed off. He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t seem like begging or whinging, so he said nothing, just held her close.

Hermione turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck as she pulled him down for a kiss. “I’m sorry, George,” she said when she pulled away. “I’ve been neglecting you.”

“You’re busy, and Percy needs you right now.” He understood. He did. George just wished there were something the two of them shared like she shared the Wizengamot with Fred and Bill.

She kissed him again, then held his chin in one hand so that he had to look into her eyes. “You deserve time, too, George.”

“We’ll schedule something at the next meeting. Bound to have one in a day or two,” he deflected.

“Georgie should have time sooner—”

“I’m fine, Fred,” he said, almost snapping. He hated the way they both looked at him with pity.

“Fred’s right,” Hermione agreed. “I’ll see if I can get someone else to sit with Percy for a bit.”

“You don’t have to—” George began.

“But I want to,” she insisted, pulling him close for another kiss. “I have to get back right now, but I’ll be back.”

George shook his head as she headed out. There was no point arguing with her, and he really did want to see her some more.

“That’s settled then,” Fred said with a smile. If he hadn’t personally been the one to add the billywig stings, George would suspect his twin had set this up. Fred continued, “You should make tonight special with her.”

For a second, George considered it. “I can’t,” he said. “We have to prepare for the meeting with Sandy tomorrow and get the blueprints for Zonko’s ready.”

“I can handle that,” Fred assured him.

“Not if we can’t get this potion right,” George countered.

“Then it looks like we better get back to work,” Fred said, straightening his apron and moving a new cauldron onto the transfigured table. They would need to buy a new real table for sturdiness, but no point doing that until they got done dealing with the volatile makings of these new products.

**********

Charlie took a long drink of water from the cup the house had produced. He had no idea where she got it, since every time he had looked, the cupboards were bare, but he was grateful for the drink after spending the entire morning planting runestones all along the property lines. The place was practically impenetrable now, and he had added his specially made stones to each of the barns and outbuildings as well.

He was a dirty, sweaty mess after the physical labor of digging the perfect spots for them — which of course Bill did as little of that as he could get away with. Charlie snorted, thinking of his older brother’s grin when he slyly suggested they would get it done faster if Charlie did the digging and Bill did the magic bit. He was right, but it was still galling that he got out of the work.

There was no point in changing or cleaning himself off though — not with the afternoon plans being what they were. He cast a quick Scourgify and called himself presentable enough. Joe would see him like this often enough anyway, since they would be working together at Hogwarts now that Joe and his crew were joining. And, hopefully, on this house project.

Though Charlie truly thought it wouldn’t take much time once they got to it. He just hoped that wouldn’t be a long wait. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door and he went to greet the contractor.

“You must be Joe,” Charlie said to the man.

“And you are definitely a Weasley,” Joe responded with a disarming grin, “Charlie, the dragon handler, if I’ve heard correctly?”

“You got it. Though now I’m more a professor than a dragon handler,” he admitted.

Joe laughed. “Once a dragon handler, always a dragon handler,” he declared. “I’ve a friend who joined Thunderbird Reserve in America. He had to retire from the more dangerous bits after he was a touch too slow one day, but he’s still got the heart of a dragon handler even if he just works in the nursery now.”

Charlie couldn’t help but nod and smile in agreement. He also knew people who had been forced to the sidelines of their career in such a manner. Or, like him, had to find a new way to work with creatures. They were still dragon handlers inside. Before he could get choked up about his dragons, Joe clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Let’s see the work you need done.”

Leading the way to the dining room, Charlie heard Joe’s approving noises as he looked around the architecture of the house. He could feel her preening in response, the beams looked somehow darker against the white of the ceiling and walls, the sconces gleamed with light, the windows even appeared to be sparkling clean as they let in the afternoon light.

“This is a charming place,” Joe commented before giving a low whistle as he saw the damage in the dining room. “And she doesn’t need that marring her beauty.”

“Will it be tough to fix then?” Charlie asked, getting a sinking feeling in his stomach. Maybe things were worse than he had assured the family.

“Not at all — especially with you helping,” Joe said with a wink. “If this is all, we can get it done over a couple of evenings.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Charlie grinned, “That’ll be perfect. There are a few other small things, but this was the big one.”

“Let’s see the rest so I can get you an accurate estimate,” Joe suggested.

“We’re going with you, however much it costs,” Charlie said confidently. For this, to be sure the house was taken care of right, it didn’t matter how much money was required. And he knew that, while his vault was greatly diminished after his part in purchasing her, he had more than enough galleons to take care of this. Not to mention the money he would have coming in for his professorship.

Joe shrugged. “Still like to be upfront about it.”

“Of course,” Charlie agreed. “Come on this way.” He enjoyed showing her off as he led Joe around. This house already felt like home, even without furniture or any of his things. And he was immensely proud of her, even in her current state.

********

Conflicted, Hermione tried to focus on what Percy was saying, but her attention was drawn to the clock once again. She knew he needed her attention right now. Each of them deserved to be her focus while she was with them.

But all she could think about right now was George. There was no denying that, despite the freedom the ritual had given them, she was still deeply drawn to spend time with the twins and Charlie above the others. She didn’t want to examine that too closely, as it felt terribly unfair, but Hermione had to admit there was a difference.

“Hermione,” Percy snapped, his tone commanding in a way she instantly recognized.

A shiver of excitement went down her spine. Her voice was breathy when she answered, “Yes, Sir?”

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. “I need to talk to you about something.”

She tried not to feel disappointed that this was just a conversation. It could be about anything, after all. It could become anything with that commanding purr in his voice. “I’m listening,” she told him.

“We have to tell the others what happened.”

Hermione blinked. That wasn’t anything she would have expected. “What do you mean?”

“When I was discussing what happened between us with Miss Penny—”

“You discussed us with Miss Penny?” Hermione repeated. She tried not to let her voice grow hysterical as she asked, but she must have failed.

Percy looked at her carefully, pushing up his glasses to be sure he was seeing her accurately. “I did,” he confirmed. Looking puzzled, he added, “I told you about it last night.”

“You mumbled half gibberish. Something about apologies and the family and Miss Penny and oh Merlin, you want us to apologize to the family for what happened at The Lunar Tower?”

“I do,” Percy agreed. “Miss Penny made me see—”

“Why does she get any say in this?” Hermione demanded.

Seeming to realize he had lost control of the situation, Percy exasperatedly said, “I turn to her for help with these things. When I’m not sure what to do. She’s my mentor.”

“‘These things,’” she repeated. “Things that should be kept between us, things that are part of our marriage?”

“Well it wasn’t exactly just between us since Marc was there,” he pointed out. His logic was impeccable, but now was not the time. Percy frowned. “Though he shouldn’t have been.”

“Yes, he should,” Hermione argued. “What happened that night was sexy and perfect—”

“Not for your first experience, darling. That first time, it was my responsibility to do better, to keep things on track and go over your lists first. What if being watched like that had been one of the things you never want to try?”

“Then I would have said something,” she told him, ready to stomp her foot with indignation.

“Would you?” he asked. “I was ‘Sir’ at the time, remember. So the power differential—”

“That’s what the stoplight system is for, isn’t it?” Hermione interrupted. “The one you told me about? I would have said ‘red’ if I disliked anything that happened. I don’t understand why I love having you control me. I just do. But I’m still me and I still knew what was happening and that I was enjoying it.”

With a sigh, Percy said, “And I’m certainly glad for that, but—”

“If you’re about to say, ‘Miss Penny said’ you’d better rethink that statement,” she warned.

Watching as he visibly wrestled with what to say, Hermione was happy to have stumped him for now. If they had to talk about this and apologize some more, then he better be thinking it for himself.

“Fine,” he snipped. “I intended to better adhere to my training and give you a slower introduction into certain aspects of BDSM. I’m thrilled that you enjoyed the experience anyway, but there are a number of ways it could have gone wrong and they were all my fault. I apologize for letting myself get carried away.”

“Apology accepted,” Hermione said primly. She didn’t love that he felt that way, but now that he was thinking for himself, she was willing to accept it.

“I wanted to talk to you before I apologize to the family—”

“Why would you apologize to them?” she asked, genuinely curious now.

“I involved someone else in a scene with our wife without discussing it first,” Percy explained.

“But I’m free to do what I want with who I want…” Hermione trailed off, realizing that might not be true. “Aren’t I?”

Had they ever really talked about it? As far as she was concerned, they had the right to seek others. She didn’t want anyone to feel trapped in the marriage when she couldn’t possibly meet all their needs. But had they extended that right to her? And did it matter that Percy had chosen the man? Perhaps he was right and they owed the family more of an apology than she had thought.

“It should be discussed. This lifestyle I have been a part of… the others should know—”

“What? No!” Hermione protested. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just none of their business.”

“But if I’m going to involve you, it becomes their business,” Percy explained gently. “You’re not just mine.”

Unable to help the way her body responded to him saying the word ‘mine’ in reference to her, Hermione squirmed slightly. She wanted to wipe the smirk off his face when he saw, but she also wanted to crawl into the bed next to him and let him do something about it, hospital etiquette be damned.

“Even so, what we do in the bedroom should be up to us,” she insisted.

“It isn’t just you,” Percy admitted. “It’s time I let everyone know about Kingsley, too.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Hermione asked, instantly concerned that Percy might be pushing himself too far when he had been so uncertain about things with Kingsley only a couple of weeks ago.

“I’m ready,” Percy confirmed. “When I saw that spell headed for him… I knew then. He’s not the only one for me, but I love him deeply and don’t ever want to be without him.”

“Then telling everyone makes sense,” Hermione cautiously agreed.

“They have a right to know about my taking other partners… about my lifestyle,” Percy continued.

“Why is it their business?” Hermione asked.

Percy blushed slightly. “While rare, there are some sexually transmittable diseases amongst wixen. And then there’s the part where I involved you — and would like to again if you’re willing.”

“I’m willing, and I’m not interested in whether they approve or not,” Hermione began, but Percy cut her off.

“What if it hurts them? What if the twins or Charlie say no?”

Hermione paused, trying to imagine that. Since the original bonding happened, she had believed the others would find their own partners eventually — like Arthur had when he grew up. She knew she would be too busy with Fred and George and any others who wanted her for her to seek other love. She didn’t really want more love. But she didn’t want her choices taken away either.

And now that she had tried it, she didn’t want to lose the possibilities with Percy and his “lifestyle.”

But she hated the idea of any of them being hurt by her actions. Slowly, she said, “I love them. and I don’t want to hurt any of you, but I think I need to maintain the autonomy to make my own decisions about things like this.”

Percy nodded decisively. “We still need to discuss it at the next family meeting.”

Sighing, Hermione agreed, “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“I usually am,” he said with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop from smiling back at him.

“Now… come sit beside me,” he commanded.

That tone was back. The one she loved. Hermione moved immediately, climbing into the bed where he indicated.

“I want to seduce you, to command you, and take you to new heights,” Percy said, staring into her eyes. Hermione was more than ready for all of that. “However, I won’t have you again until we’ve learned more about one another’s limits.”

“We could talk about them now,” she offered eagerly.

“We can’t,” he disagreed. Before she could protest, he gently poked the tip of her nose. “You have places to be. And Mum will be here any moment.”

Her face fell, but Percy smiled softly. “Don’t be sad, little girl. Which of my brothers are you going to tonight? I know it must be one of them.”

“George,” Hermione admitted. She wasn’t sure how Percy knew, but there was no point in hiding it.

“He’ll take good care of you,” Percy said with certainty in his voice. She wondered if he would have felt that way no matter which of his siblings she had said. “Now kiss me before you go. I want to be sure you’re wet and ready when you get there.”

She would have liked to protest that a mere kiss couldn’t get her hot and bothered to that degree, but it would have been a lie. As their lips met, Hermione slipped her hands up to grasp his hair. She loved the little thrill of control she got from tugging at it, the feeling that she was being naughty and getting away with it. From the look in his eyes when he pulled back, Percy knew exactly what she was thinking, but let her continue as he captured her lips again.

The two of them didn’t stop snogging until they heard a throat clear sometime later. “Are you supposed to be in his bed, dear?” Molly asked, clearly trying to keep her voice pleasant.

Percy laughed with kiss-swollen lips. “I’d like to see them try to stop her.”

Blushing a bit at that, Hermione gave him one last kiss before getting out of the bed. She decided it was best to ignore the previous conversation. Instead, she said, “Thank you for being with him, Molly. George needed me to come help him with something tonight.”

She heard Percy stifle a snicker and hoped Molly hadn’t noticed. Apparently she hadn’t, or chose not to respond to it, because she just said, “Tell him I send my love!” as she waved goodbye.

Not wanting to waste any time, Hermione quickly made it to the nearest apparation point and went straight to the twins’ flat. She was looking forward to her evening.

*********

Shrinking the last of her things down to pocket size, Ginny looked around her childhood bedroom. Of course the bed was still there, and the other rickety furniture. Without her stuff to cover it up, everything looked very old, very used, like everything in the Burrow. Still, she was going to miss it.

She had already been missing it, though, while she was floating between the twins’ flat, Grimmauld, and Shell Cottage. Ginny was grateful they had made up with Mum so that she could be here now, collecting the rest of her stuff. She wanted everything with her in her new room in the new house. Of course she hoped to get some new things, too. A bed would be the first priority.

With a sigh, she shrunk down the old one from here. For now, she’d best have it with her if she didn’t fancy sleeping on the floor. Lovely as the house was, it didn’t come with furniture and Ginny had no money of her own. She could ask one of her brothers to buy her a new bed, but she hated to start their new living situation as a burden.

Besides, she would be back at Hogwarts before long. And after Hogwarts, she would be on a Quidditch team and have more than enough money to buy her own. She hoped. Ginny was nervous about it — about having a baby and then trying to get picked up by a team. They usually scouted the Hogwarts teams and she wouldn’t be able to be on it this year.

She could only hope they would remember her from years past and let her try out. Once this baby was born in January, she would have plenty of time to practice and get back on her game. Of course, this reminded Ginny of all the logistics she still hadn’t figured out. How in Merlin’s name would she have a baby with her while at Hogwarts? Even if the rest of the family stepped up to help, that was a difficulty that she couldn’t figure out.

But then, there were a lot of things about going back to Hogwarts that she hadn’t figured out yet. Ginny was so relieved that Hermione would be joining her. She might not need her anymore like she did when the bond was too strong, but she still wanted her wife to be a part of her life. Of course, Mum was subtly trying to suggest that she put that relationship behind her.

While it was possible now, that wasn’t what Ginny hoped for. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen Hermione much lately to talk about it. And when they had been together, she had been afraid to bring it up, afraid Hermione didn’t actually want a wife at all. Perhaps at the next family meeting, she should request a night. Even if Hermione rejected her as a proper spouse, she wouldn’t say no to spending time together, surely.

And there was also the fact that things were about to change again. Maybe walking away from Hermione would be the right thing to do once Harry had his bonds dissolved tomorrow. Maybe she wouldn’t want Hermione anymore. That felt wrong to Ginny, but there was no telling how she would feel once she and Harry could be together again.

The thought that she could have both of them flitted through her head, making Ginny grin. That would be the best case scenario in her mind, and she thought they would both enjoy it, too, if they would let themselves. They clearly had feelings for one another. It was just all so mixed up right now with all of Harry’s bonds, but Ginny was almost certain there would still be something there between them once that mess was cleared out.

Then there were her brothers to take into consideration, she supposed. They might be mad about Hermione having another lover in Harry, even though he was already an accepted member of the family. Well, as far as Ginny was concerned, her brothers could shove off if they didn’t like it.

“Gin, are you about ready?” Fred asked. He had been the only brother available to do this with her, and even he had whinged about it. Something about blueprints to go over and a presentation to prepare, but he had eventually given in. She had hoped he would help her a bit, but he had gone up to his old bedroom instead, presumably to gather some of his and George’s old things. Now he was standing in her doorway, looking around at the room. “You took your bed?”

“Yes,” she said. “I don’t really have another.”

“George and I can—”

“This will be fine for now,” Ginny told him, feeling her cheeks flame.

For a moment, Fred looked like he might argue, then shrugged and smiled instead. “Whatever you want, Ginbug. Just know the offer stands. Especially once Mum notices the bed is gone. You can bet that’ll get the waterworks going.”

They both rolled their eyes as they headed down the stairs toward the Floo. It would be easiest to apparate, of course, but her birthday was still almost two months away. And would she even be allowed to apparate by then? No, already her brothers wouldn’t side-along her. Thank Merlin for Floo travel. She certainly wouldn’t have wanted to take the Knight Bus and by broom it would be a very long flight indeed from here.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t Floo straight there since the house didn’t have a name yet to call out. Instead, they Flooed to The Three Broomsticks where Fred instantly renewed his efforts to flirt with Rosmerta.

“Rosie, my love. Have you reconsidered my offer?”

The barmaid snickered. “I believe you’re a taken man, Mr. Weasley.”

“Taken with you,” he said with a smirk.

Rosmerta just rolled her eyes at his antics and asked, “Can I get you loves anything?”

“No,” Ginny began, but Fred had other ideas.

“Can we get a few things to take with us?” he asked, rattling off everyone’s favorites. “We’re going to be living nearby and we’re working on the house tonight.”

“You bought a house near here?” Rosmerta asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes as she wrote down the things Fred had requested.

“We did. A bit in the country.”

“Oh! Are you the ones who bought the old McTavish place?” Rosmerta asked excitedly.

“Maybe?” Fred answered. “It’s an old Tudor style house—”

“I know just the one. I used to walk by it as a child sometimes. I swear the house used to wave at me.”

“That sounds like the place,” Fred agreed.

Rosmerta blinked at him. “It’s actually a sentient house? That’s so rare! I mean, there’ve always been rumors about the place, but if they’re true, well, that’s a broom of a different color.”

“Any rumors we should know?” Ginny cut in. She wanted all the information she could get about the house.

“Well, they used to say—”

Just then, a large crowd came through the door. “Bugger,” Rosmerta swore softly. “We’ll have your food up in a minute, dears. I have to go tend to the masses.”

With that, she was gone, leaving Fred and Ginny to wonder about the house. “I hadn’t even thought about the history of it,” Fred admitted.

“How did it become so magical?” Ginny wondered.

“We’ll have to come back another day and see what else Rosmerta knows,” Fred promised just as their order was placed in front of them. Gathering up the bags, Fred shrunk them and tucked them away as he pulled out his broom. “Do you think you can ride a bit if I take us at a leisurely pace?”

Rolling her eyes, Ginny said, “I could race you if you would let me on my own broom.”

“We don’t want to do anything that might—”

“Hurt the baby. I know. I don’t want to hurt the baby either, but I think you’re all being a bit ridiculous. Witches have babies all the time and—”

“And they take special care not to do anything to endanger them while they’re pregnant,” Fred finished for her, his words with a certain finality to them. With a sigh, Ginny climbed on the back of his broom and settled in for the ride.

It wasn’t as short as it could have been since he went so slow, but the nice thing about being near Hogsmeade is that they didn’t have to hide themselves. Soon enough, they were pulling up to the front door.

As they went inside, Fred called out, “Honey! We’re home! And we brought dinner!”

Charlie appeared almost instantly, covered in dust and with bits of wood in his hair. “Fantastic!” he said, grinning at them.

“You seem happy,” Ginny observed.

“I am. Joe thinks we can have her fixed up in a couple of days, especially with me doing some of the prep work now. So, for the moment, stay out of the dining room, but we can eat in the kitchen,” he rushed.

The three of them headed that way. Ginny’s stomach was grumbling, as it always seemed to be lately. She was simultaneously starving and a bit queasy, but she was still looking forward to the food. Rosmerta’s cook always made the best shepherd’s pie.

As they ate, the three siblings chatted about the house, smiling as she preened for them when they praised her, cabinet doors opening and closing and the light brightening. Charlie seemed particularly close to the house, Ginny noticed. “You seem to have an affinity for the house.”

“I feel like we understand each other. She’s like one of my dragons,” Charlie said fondly.

Fred snorted. “Anything you like reminds you of dragons.”

“Yes,” Charlie agreed cheerfully. Ginny was relieved to see that her favorite brother seemed to have shaken some of his melancholy around not returning to Romania.

As they finished up with their meal, Fred said, “I get to pick George and I’s room first!” And started sprinting for the stairs. Apparently the house didn’t approve because as he climbed, they turned into a giant slide, dumping him right back down on the ground floor.

Ginny couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so hard. “I think she might feel that I should pick first.”

“Since you need to be next to the nursery, that makes sense,” Charlie noted. “Your room on one side of it and Andromeda’s on the other if she chooses to move in.”

“Will Harry have his own room or share mine?” Ginny wondered aloud as she made her way up the stairs, Fred pouting behind her.

For a long moment, neither of her brothers answered. Finally, Charlie said, “That’ll be up to the two of you. The big brother in me wants to say he needs to stay away from my baby sister, but it’s a bit late for that.”

“Too right,” Ginny replied. “I make my own choices.”

“Fine, but that means Harry gets to make his own choices, too. And you have to respect them,” Fred put in.

“Of course I will,” Ginny said, though she hoped his choice would be to stay with her. The baby would have a loving family no matter what, and Harry would be a part of it, but she wanted that family with him that she had always dreamed of having.

On the second floor, she began peeking in doors, but the house hurried her along by closing the ones closest to the stairs, two doors further down flying open — the two on either side of the nursery.

Ginny stepped into the first one and looked around. It was fine. Cream colored, with gold curtains. Very stately. Her furniture would look shabby in here until she could get something new, but that would probably be true of any of the rooms.

“Is this it?” Fred asked her.

“I don’t know,” she answered, feeling unsure. The house gave a little shake. “Maybe I should look at the other.”

Charlie said, “Yes. We want you to be happy in your room, not just settle for it.”

Ginny felt her excitement build as she got closer to the other room. She had a feeling about it. The room was mostly identical to the one she had just looked at, but there were hooks on the wall for a broomstick and the color scheme was pale blue with cream curtains.

She was home.

Down the hall, she heard Fred call out that he had picked his room. And Charlie had the room above the dining room. So that was four of the rooms claimed. In no time, this would be home for them all.

Chapter 49

Notes:

Thank you, as always, to my team for all the help you give me. And thank you to my readers! I love knowing you enjoy this story and hearing from anyone who feels the urge to reach out.

Thursday, June 4th

Fred was pleased when he flooed back to the flat the next morning and found George and Hermione huddled over the table, still in pyjamas, looking at the notes they had made for their talk with Sandy later. Walking over, he kissed the top of Hermione’s head and gave his twin a one-armed hug.

“What brilliance have you come up with now that you’ve seen our plans?” he asked.

“I’ve made some notes,” she told him with a grin, shoving the paper at him. Fred had to smile when he saw her suggestions. Perhaps they should have consulted her sooner.

Of course, that was true of everything, and they did still want their own mark on the world with their joke products, but her insight could be invaluable. Meeting George’s eyes, he knew they were thinking the same things.

The relaxed slant of George’s shoulders told Fred that the night with Hermione had been good for him. The state of their freshly washed hair suggested they had both just come from the shower. For a split second he felt a wave of jealousy, but Fred shoved it away. This was George, after all, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t felt their very pleasant emotions last night and this morning through the soul bond.

Besides, they had things to do today that were more important than sex and jealousy.

“These are going to make our suggestions even better,” George said with a smile.

“They will,” Fred agreed, “If we ever get there — go get some clothes on. The meeting’s in half an hour.”

“That’s plenty of time,” George grumbled while Hermione laughed. Reluctantly, he pulled his arm from around her and headed for the bedroom to get ready.

“What are you up to today?” Fred asked her.

“I’ll be helping Harry prepare for his ritual, mostly. We’re supposed to meet in an hour. After that, I was hoping to spend some time at the house before Percy comes home. I wish I knew which room he’ll pick.”

“So far, she seems to have mostly decided for us,” Fred told her.

“What do you mean?”

“The house redecorated herself a bit, changed the paint colors so that certain rooms are more appealing to certain people. Maybe some other things? The room Gin picked had mounts up for her brooms. I’m not sure if we just didn’t notice them before or if the house added them to appeal to her,” Fred explained.

“Oh, that’s brilliant!” Hermione gushed.

“So if we find a room papered in Ministry propaganda, we know we’ve found Percy’s,” he joked.

Hermione punched him lightly in the arm, but she was laughing, too. “I’m sure he’ll want something very austere,” she said.

“His flat is stark, black and white, you know,” Fred said with a nod.

“So maybe there’s a room like that. I’ll check when I go there.”

“Who’s going with you?” he asked her, wanting to be sure she didn’t plan to be home alone. Even though Bill and Charlie had the wards in place now, he didn’t want to risk her safety.

“Charlie will be there. He and Ginny spent the night there last night, you know, though she’s supposed to be working at the shop this morning with Lee and Verity,” Hermione told him.

“I do know,” Fred agreed. “I stayed myself last night. Picked out Georgie and I’s room.”

“You’re going to share? There are enough rooms that you don’t have to,” she pointed out.

Fred shrugged. Honestly, he was uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping in a room alone. “We’ve shared all our lives, no point in changing now.”

For a moment, he thought she might protest again, but then George reappeared. She smiled at him, fitted out in his muggle suit just like Fred was. The colors were bright, almost garish, but Fred knew the cut was flattering enough on them to make up for it. Besides, they were the WWW colors, and made them living symbols of the shop. They had both topped the outfit off with top hats.

“You two are going to be brilliant,” she said, smiling proudly.

“We already are,” George replied with a tip of his hat.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione kissed them each before bidding them goodbye and heading to the bedroom to change. He would have loved nothing more than to follow her and watch, but business first. Perhaps he would have time with her tonight or tomorrow.

Moving to the floo, Fred went first, calling out “Sandy’s Office” before stepping through. He was happy to find the space he entered was very tranquil. The walls were cream colored with a blue border that spoke of ocean waves. In fact, he could hear what sounded like waves in the background.

There were several bookshelves he knew Hermione would want to explore, and a nice sofa and set of cushy chairs in the office, as well as a desk to one side. Sandy was sitting at the desk, but angled toward them. To Fred’s surprise, she was not alone.

A look of horror must have crossed his and George’s faces because Sandy laughed and quickly said, “Don’t worry! You didn’t interrupt a session. The floo would have been closed if you had. This is my colleague Melissa — the one I mentioned might join us?”

“Oh yeah,” George replied, looking sheepish. “Sorry, Fred. I forgot all about that, just replied to that note from the shop to say it would be good.”

Fred nodded slowly, putting his hand out. Melissa stepped toward him and took his hand, grinning as she looked him and George over. “You certainly stick with your brand,” she commented.

“We try,” Fred said, unsure if she meant it as a compliment or not, but decided to take it as one.

Sandy, too, rose from her chair and shook hands with the twins before suggesting they all have a seat. Fred and George took the sofa without discussing it, moving in tandem as they so often did. George set their folder of proposals down on the short table between them and the ladies, who had taken the two armchairs.

“Now, what brings you here today?” Sandy asked. Fred got the impression that she asked that question in just that way quite frequently.

“We have some ideas for new products, but they are focused on helping people recover from the war,” Fred began.

“We want to help, but we want to make sure we do it in a way that doesn’t hurt people in the long run,” George explained.

“So our first product idea is a twist on our patented Daydream Charms,” Fred told them. “But instead of just any daydream, you think of a person that was lost to you and add a tear you shed to the vial. It would then give you a daydream specifically with that person, so that they could say goodbye or um… be with the person one last time.”

“The thing about it is that we think these would need to be controlled,” George cut in.

“So that no one overuses them,” Fred completed.

 

“That sounds brilliant,” Sandy finally got a word in edgewise, “but how would you control them?”

“That’s where you come in,” Fred told her.

“And all the Mind Healers,” George added.

“We were thinking these products would only be distributed by Mind Healers, to those who need them,” Fred explained.

“I don’t know if I could afford them for my practice,” Melissa said.

George shook his head. “We’re not looking to turn a profit from these. We would give them to you for as long as you are treating those touched by the war. After that we could perhaps negotiate a small fee if you have found them helpful and think they would apply to other situations.”

“Oh certainly,” Sandy enthused. “There are lots of instances where closure would help people move on, and a guided daydream would be ideal for that, if I’m understanding how it works correctly.”

“You are, but if you want a demonstration, we brought a couple of prototypes as well,” Fred said, pulling two slim boxes from his robes.

“I must admit, I’m intrigued,” Melissa said, “though I don’t know if it would work for me since I wasn’t personally touched by the war. Everything that happened more angered me than saddened me.”

“Melissa could observe with me, if that is an option?” Sandy suggested.

“It is,” George said excitedly. “Another feature of these Daydream Charms is that you can actively go in with the person and help them.”

Both Mind Healers looked thrilled at that prospect. Everyone moved, settling so that Sandy was lying on the sofa, with Melissa’s chair pulled up beside her so that she could hold the other woman’s hand. Fred had taken the desk chair while George took the other armchair.

Watching the two women experience the charm was a little dull, even with Melissa speaking calmly to Sandy and tears running down the cheeks of both women, but Fred was thrilled with how responsive they both were. It seemed the Charm was working just as they had planned.

When, half an hour later, they came out of the trance, George had tea waiting for each of them that he had liberated from a tin she had on her desk. “Thought you might need this,” he said.

Shakily, Sandy said, “Yes, please. That was just what I needed to resolve my brother’s death, but… it was very intense. Having Melissa with me certainly helped. I don’t think people should be trying to use them unattended.”

Frowning, Fred asked, “Do you think we should find a way to tone them down?”

“No,” Melissa spoke up. “At least the way I practice, this level of intensity would be very helpful, but I agree it must be done under supervision.”

“Perhaps there could be different levels of intensity?” Sandy questioned. “I have at least one client who could benefit from something like this but wouldn’t cope well with something so powerful.”

Fred and George exchanged a momentary look and an entire internal conversation. “Yes, we could do that,” George agreed, taking down a few notes.

“We were also thinking of Patented Daydreams that help people work through their fears and nightmares, too, though we didn’t bring any of those with us today,” Fred said.

“That sounds useful,” Melissa agreed after a glance at Sandy, who nodded. “Do they work the same way?”

“Basically,” George told her. “You could go in and guide them through what’s causing the nightmare or fear.”

“Brilliant,” Sandy said with a smile. “I would like some of those as well.” Melissa quickly agreed.

“Now, for the next product,” Fred said. From inside his robes, he pulled what appeared to be a tiny rectangle of cloth. Resizing it, he held out what was now a rather person-sized blanket to the two ladies.

“I hadn’t realized there would be more,” Melissa said before she reached for the blanket.

It was soft to the touch, with a silky band around the outside in case the more tactile people liked that feeling more. The really amazing thing about the blanket, though, was its weight. It felt heavy, despite being a very thin blanket.

“We’ve done some reading about what muggles call PTSD. It seems that weighted things can help calm people down? So we thought, what about a blanket that can change weights and also heats up or cools down.”

“It can do all those things?” Sandy asked, intrigued.

“It can,” George agreed, and taught them the commands for the blanket, watching in amusement as the two muggleborns tried out all its settings.

“This is remarkable!” Sandy gushed. “And would be so useful for just about anyone who experiences any kind of trauma or anxiety.”

“This we thought we might sell in the shop, along with our last item for the moment,” Fred told them.

“More a pet than an item,” George corrected.

“Indeed it is, though unfortunately we don’t have one to show you right now. We’re still working on the breeding and the right spells to make them perfect for the job. But you’ve seen our Pygmy Puffs, haven’t you?” Fred asked.

“Yes,” Melissa answered. “They’re adorable, but a little bit annoying, I must admit.”

“These new ones won’t be. Well, still adorable, hopefully, but the Pygmy Packers will weigh quite a bit more despite looking much the same. Their chirps will also be a much lower tone, almost a purr. We read that cat’s purrs tend to calm people. And we hope they’ll be quite trainable, like a muggle therapy dog. The Pygmy Puffs have always been good at little tricks. These will be better,” George explained excitedly. They were his pet project — literally.

Fred said, “We hope to have them ready in a month. Pygmy Puffs breed fast.”

“These could provide more mental health options than the wizarding world has ever seen before,” Sandy said, her hand making a sweeping motion to show it encompassed all three things they had discussed.

“It’s more than time for them,” George replied. “We want the wizarding world to improve, not be handicapped by the experiences we were all forced to go through.”

“That’s admirable,” Melissa said, her eyes glossy with tears. She seemed the more emotional of the two.

“It’s necessary,” Fred told her. “Do you think these products will help? Would you be willing to use the Daydream Charms and endorse the blankets and Pygmy Packers?”

“I think I would need to meet a Packer when they’re ready, but I love the concept. As for the Charms and the blankets, absolutely,” Sandy declared.

The twins looked at one another. Fred knew they would be celebrating tonight with fireworks, as they always did when a new product proved to be a success. Perhaps they would set them off at the new house this time.

Gathering their notes, Fred told the Mind Healers, “If you can think of anything else that might be helpful, please let us know and we’ll put our minds to it. Can’t make any promises, but we tend to be fairly clever.”

“I believe that,” Melissa said with a laugh. Their belief in the twins left a warm feeling in Fred’s heart as they headed back to the shop for more planning and tinkering.

*********

Harry twisted the broom and dived. He needed to feel the exhilaration of the wind in his face to calm down.

He wanted this bloody ritual over with so that he could be with Ginny again, like he was supposed to be. So that he would have the option of doing things intentionally and not be so confused all the time. So that he would stop looking at the girl who should be his sister as someone he wanted.

That was the really hard part in all this. She would be here any minute — probably yelling at him to stop flying like a maniac — to help with the last minute preparations for the ritual. And all he wanted to do was snog her while he still could blame it on the bonds being so tangled and confused.

Of course, Sandy had told him it was normal to feel confused about romance and even his sexuality now that he finally had the time and mental space to think about such things. There was nothing wrong with finding more than one person attractive. There wouldn’t even be anything wrong with pursuing more than one person as long as he was up front about it.

But could he do that to Ginny and Hermione? Gin hadn’t seemed that upset by the idea when she caught them almost kissing a few days ago, but he still didn’t quite trust that she would be okay with it. Something in her expression that day had warned him not to take her light-hearted words at face value.

Then there was Hermione. She was already overwhelmed with spice. She didn’t need anyone else making demands on her time and her body. Harry knew he should just accept that she was well and truly taken and very much not for him. But he didn’t want to. At least not without talking about it.

The wind rushed past his face fast enough that he barely heard her shouted words. “Harry James Potter! If you can’t use that broom responsibly, then get down here and get off of it!”

He grinned as he landed next to her. “Sorry, just getting in a little practice.”

Hermione looked him over and her eyes softened. She may not realize that some of his turmoil was about her, but she could certainly read him well enough to know that he was flying to calm his nerves.

“I’m glad,” she told him quietly. “Now let’s head inside and get to work. There aren’t that many components, so we’ll have the whole thing ready in no time.”

Harry just nodded and followed her into the house. He felt like he knew this ritual forward and backwards at this point.

He had a cord woven by as many of his friends and loved ones as he could get to participate, even people he wasn’t terribly close to like Dean and Seamus and Susan. Merlin, he had even asked Theo, though he privately knew that one was a bit more pertinent than he had made it out to be. He was at least as attracted to Theo as he was to Hermione, maybe moreso. Every time he looked into those sapphire eyes…

Shaking his head, Harry tried to refocus on all the items for the ritual. It was a brief ritual so being sure he had everything was the essential part. The potion he needed to be separated from the bonds had been brewed by Fred and Fleur working together. There was no way it was messed up.

Beyond the timing of the ritual and doing it in a Circle, there wasn’t much else to be done. Harry wished he had taken the time to explore the grounds where Potter Manor once stood. Perhaps somewhere there he might have found a Circle that would resonate more completely with him, but he suspected that, as an adopted member of the Weasley clan, he would feel just as comfortable using theirs.

Of course, he wouldn’t have those ties to them after tonight. Not in any official capacity anyway. Hopefully the Weasley men would still look at him like a brother-in-law. That was what this was all about, after all. Mostly, anyway. He and Ginny needed to be together to start their family.

Leading the way inside, Harry took her into Grimmauld’s library, where he had everything laid out. Most of the potion, he would drink during the ritual. But a little bit of it would be painted into runes on his body. Runes for letting go, for independence, and for freedom. Harry had never studied runes, so he didn’t know one from the other, but he knew he could trust Hermione.

He pulled off his shirt and puffed out his chest, knowing the runes needed to go on his chest and back. Harry was glad he had been doing so much work lately and that his lean frame reflected it. Not that he should be hoping Hermione would look at his chest.

As her fingers spread the potion over his body in intricate patterns, goose pimples rose across Harry’s skin. Her voice was hushed when she asked, “Is this making you cold?”

“No,” Harry replied. It was making him unbearably turned on, but he couldn’t really say that, especially when it might muck something up for the bloody ritual. Maybe he should have had Ginny or someone else do this part.

When she moved from his chest to his back, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Her touch still drove him mad, but at least he wasn’t looking at her beautiful eyes anymore. And not having to face her made it easier to talk.

“You know we could still explore things before the ritual,” he suggested against his better judgement.

Hermione sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Harry,” she began, “but I don’t think it’s a good idea, especially with the runes already on you.”

“So you’re saying I should have suggested it a little sooner.” He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “I’m only joking,” he sighed.

“No, you’re not,” she answered. “And neither am I. But this wasn’t meant to be and that’s okay. The bonds are just messing with us right now. It will be better tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, though he didn’t feel like that would be ‘better’ at all. He tried not to feel forlorn as she finished up and prepared to leave. He felt like he had missed a chance, and that he would regret it.

*********

“Charlie?” Hermione called as she looked around the sitting room she had apparated into. Not much had been moved into here so far — just an old armchair that looked a bit too well loved, but it already felt more like home to her than anywhere else.

“Hermione?” a call came back from down the hall. “I’m in the dining room.”

She made her way in that direction, running her hand along the wall lovingly, enjoying the feel of the house’s magic tingling her fingertips. She really was an amazing house.

“What are you up to in here?” she asked when she rounded the corner and found Charlie, shirtless and covered in sweat, hauling timbers into the room. His dragonhide pants left little to the imagination, and she found herself unexpectedly turned on.

“Just preparing for Joe and his team. He said it will probably take tonight and tomorrow, but I’m hoping if I get his whole prep list done, that it will just be tonight.”

Hermione wasn’t sure what to say. All she could think about was the way his muscles shone under the flickering lights of the sconces. The house seemed to have decided this was an appropriate time to dim the lights a bit. Her voice was low and sultry when she said, “Does that mean you’re too busy for me?”

Charlie blinked and looked up at her, his eyes going dark at the way she was looking at him. “I’m never too busy for you, draga.”

She closed the distance between them as Charlie put down the beams he had been carrying. By the time she reached him, he was ready for her, his thick, muscular arms pulling her in close as he swept her up and kissed her like he might die without the taste of her tongue in his mouth. It was a sensation Hermione couldn’t get used to, but never wanted to end either.

As his mouth devoured hers, his hands roamed over her body, teasing up and down her sides, squeezing her arse, and petting her hips until Hermione was making frustrated sounds and moving his hands lower. She could feel the length of him against her, but couldn’t get any friction between them without a better angle.

“Do you want something?” Charlie asked as he kissed his way over to her ear.

“You! I want you,” she responded.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that, but let’s see if we can get you a little satisfaction,” he said cryptically.

Instead of lying her down on the floor as Hermione thought he might, Charlie picked her up more completely, her legs going naturally around his waist. Now she could really feel his hard length right where she wanted it. The feel of his enormous cock made her moan, even as she rubbed herself up and down against him.

As she did, he slid a hand along her stomach, pushing her t-shirt up and running his finger under the band of her trousers. “Are you wet for me?” he asked huskily.

“Yes,” she whimpered. Hermione wished he would let her try and take him, but she could tell by the set of his jaw that he intended to be stubborn about it.

“Let me be the judge of that,” he told her, unfastening her trousers and sliding his hand in so that he could run a finger through her slick folds. “Hmmm, looks like you are wet for me.”

Hermione couldn’t believe she could be this wanton having just been with George in the shower a few short hours ago, but she was dying to come apart again just for Charlie. Fortunately, that seemed to be what he wanted as well.

His thumb was making increasingly tighter circles around her clit as he rubbed his hard cock against her. Even though it felt unfair that she couldn’t do more for him, Charlie’s careful ministrations had her ready to fall apart in minutes. He had her pressed against a wall — she didn’t even know when that had happened — for extra leverage, but mostly he was working her with just the one hand while he kissed her until she felt like falling apart just from his tongue dancing with her own.

When he pushed a finger into her needy pussy, Hermione couldn’t hold back any longer. She cried out, into his kisses, as she thrashed against him. “Easy, draga,” he said with a soft smile, “Keep moving against me like that and I’ll be coming in my pants.”

With that in mind, she kept up her movements, increasing the speed that she rocked her body against his and making him groan. He was so hard against her, Hermione was almost certain she would be bruised later, but it was worth it if she could watch him fall apart. She had a feeling she might even enjoy the ache knowing what she had achieved to earn it.

Charlie’s breaths came in deeper pants and his body thrust harder against her even as he kissed and lightly protested, repeatedly asking if she was sure she didn’t just want to stop. Meanwhile, his hand was still in her knickers, having never stopped rubbing her clit even though he had removed the finger from her cunt so it didn’t get smashed between their bodies.

As if she would stop when he was clearly getting so close. Hermione pulled away from his lips and kissed over to his neck instead, making him shiver and moan. “Hermione…” he whined. “Yes… Yes!” He wasn’t quiet when he came, pressing up against her so that his body held them both upright.

Unable to help herself, Hermione came with him, just the shuddering quality of his voice and the feel of his hips grinding against hers enough to get her off, not to mention the way he pressed hard on her clit, making her explode.

Long moments passed as Charlie collected himself, Hermione clinging to him and planting soft kisses along his neck. She loved how connected she always felt with him. Finally, he gently lowered her to stand on the floor again and Scourgified the mess he had made.

“Thank you,” she breathed, going up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. He might be the shortest of the Weasley brothers, but he was still a good deal taller than her.

“I should be thanking you,” he told her, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to let go like that.”

“You’re meant to be working,” Hermione remembered with a smirk.

“That I am,” he agreed. “Though I had intended to take a break once you got here anyway. I want to see you pick your room.”

“I thought it had already been chosen for me. The big room in the middle for the cuddle pile.”

Charlie shrugged. “Unless you would like something different. I’m sure whichever one of us said that, it was just an idea. You deserve to pick more than any of the rest of us.”

The house seemed to have other ideas, however. She didn’t quite close the doors between the stairs and the big room at the end of the hall, but they had to peek in each one and it was clear that the house didn’t feel any of them were right for her.

When they made their way down to the large room, the house seemed to showcase it, brightening the lights and showing Hermione the soft, silvery walls and deep purple rugs on the floor that perfectly matched the border near the ceiling. It wasn’t very conventional coloring, but Hermione thought it was perfect.

She could just imagine where they would put the bed, though she had no idea how they would find one as big as they needed. At least they had plenty of space for it, and it would look perfect centered between the built-in bookshelves she hadn’t noticed before.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Charlie asked, smiling as he watched her face.

“Yes,” she admitted. “It’s exactly what I didn’t even know I wanted.”

“Mine is the same way,” he told her.

“Which one is it?” she asked, heading out of her room to go find his.

“It’s earth tones. And a little fire,” he said, though he laughed when the house opened the correct door for them, not letting her try to guess. Though, of course, Hermione knew it was supposed to be the one above the dining room, but it was easy to forget how the layout of the ground floor related to this one.

Inside, the walls were a light brown, with a burnt orange and yellow swirling border. It looked like fire and it was just as perfect for Charlie as her room was for her. Inside, there was already a bed that looked like the rustic one from his cabin.

“How did you get that here?” she asked. Surely they would have known if he had gone back to Romania.

Charlie smiled. “It’s new. I just wanted it to feel like home so I bought the same style I had in the cabin. I need to ask Mum if she’s got an extra quilt I could have. I don’t need more than sheets right now with the heat, but it won’t feel like home without something she’s made. I just haven’t had time to ask her yet.” He looked uncomfortable and Hermione wondered if it was his feelings toward his mum making him feel off, but she decided not to ask.

“When did you have time to go shopping?” Hermione questioned instead.

Chuckling, he said, “Oh, since I knew exactly what I wanted, I just owled for it. I took the liberty of picking up a plain bed for a guest room, too, or just to have extra. I thought Percy would need it the next few days until he has the ability to bring his own over.”

“That was thoughtful of you.”

“I have my moments,” Charlie answered with a grin.

“Wait. You owled for furniture?” she asked in shock.

“They shrink it down. We could do the whole house that way if we wanted, but it’s a bit risky if you’re just guessing whether it will be right for your space or not. I suggest we actually go shopping for the main spaces.”

“Yes, that would probably be a better idea — especially if we’re taking everyone’s opinions into account,” Hermione noted.

“It’ll probably be a nightmare,” Charlie said with a shudder. “I might just say I’m happy with whatever you pick and stay busy at home.”

“Not fair,” Hermione said with a pout.

He surprised her by swooping down to kiss her. “I can’t stand to see your mouth so kissable and leave it alone,” Charlie told her.

She leaned up to steal a kiss from him and Charlie started backing her toward the bed. They were happily distracted snogging until Hermione suddenly pulled back. “What time is it?”

A quick Tempus and she was rolling off the bed. “I’m late bringing Percy home!” she gasped.

********

Percy tried not to be irritated that no one was here for him yet, but it was hard. Mum was still here, of course, and she had offered to take him to the Burrow or his flat multiple times. His flat was tempting, but he was afraid once he was there, he wouldn’t want to leave. The idea of combining homes with all his siblings was not exactly one he looked forward to, even if he could accept the necessity now.

“Hermione will be here any moment, dear,” Mum reassured him.

“I know she will be,” he answered testily. It was the third time they had this exchange and he was tired of it. Overall, he was out of things to talk about. He wanted to get his hands on some reports from Kingsley, but the man had infuriatingly not allowed him to see a thing while he was recuperating.

Hopefully, he would be able to remedy that soon.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Hermione said, “I’m so sorry I’m late! Got caught up at the house!”

Her kiss-swollen lips left little doubt of what she got caught up doing, though Percy just smirked at her to let her know he saw that. She blushed prettily but just asked, “Are you ready to go?”

“More than ready,” Mum chastised lightly. “He’s been waiting to go.”

“And you’re sure you want to go straight to the house? It doesn’t have much in the way of furniture yet.”

“That’s quite alright,” Percy answered.

He wasn’t supposed to walk around anyway, bound to a wheelchair until at least his next Healer appointment tomorrow, so he would have his place to sit even if no one else did. Percy was concerned about a place to sleep, but perhaps he could send someone over to his flat and bring some of his things. The timing for all of this was rather inconvenient, but he certainly understood the need to stay together.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Hermione told him, “We can head down to the apparation points, then I can side-along you.”

“There has to be some way to apparate in a wheelchair,” he replied testily, but he was nodding all the while.

Hermione turned to Mum and asked, “Molly, do you want to come with us? We can introduce you to the house.”

The gesture made Percy let go of some of the tension in his shoulders. He wished things were good enough that Mum could stay with them. It worried him that she was at the Burrow alone. He wondered if any of his siblings had thought of it.

“I would love to!” Mum said.

“After I take Percy, I’ll pop right back and take you, then, if that’s acceptable. Charlie’s at the house, so I won’t be leaving Percy alone,” Hermione reassured. Ah, so that was the sibling who had distracted her with kisses.

Percy also noticed that this way, Hermione wouldn’t be giving Mum their new address. That was probably a wise thing, though once she had seen the place, she could always apparate. It would be rude to do so unannounced, but that didn’t mean Mum wouldn’t do it.

To his surprise, when they left the ward they had been sequestered in, the Aurors who had been guarding his door moved up in front.

“Why—” he started to ask, but suddenly there were camera flashes and shouted questions in front of them as they reached the lobby. Apparently, the press was more than ready for him to be released as well. Percy hated that he was meeting them in a wheelchair instead of on his feet. He really wasn’t so weak that he couldn’t have walked down to the apparation point.

“Percy has mostly recovered at this point,” Hermione answered one of the many questions coming their way. “He will be convalescing at home for the next few days, but back to work soon.”

“Where is his home?” a reporter called out. “Is there a love nest for just the two of you or does he have to share with all his siblings?”

Hermione’s face went stony with fury. Percy spoke up, “That is no one’s business but ours. These are our homes you’re talking about, not a ‘love nest.’”

“We’re not answering any further questions,” Mum said, giving everyone her best glare. The reporters all took a step back and the Aurors were able to push a path through them to the apparation point.

It took only a moment for Hermione to whisk him away to the house. They landed in the sitting room.

“We’re going to have to come up with a designated apparating place,” Charlie commented, “once there is furniture in here. Welcome home, Perce.”

When Hermione disapparated without explanation, Charlie’s brow rose. “She’s bringing Mum,” Percy explained, watching his older brother stiffen.

The next few minutes were fraught with tension as Mum arrived and Charlie tried to welcome her without sounding like he didn’t want her there. Percy thought he might have pulled it off since Mum was too distracted oohing and aahing over the house to notice.

“I thought I might sleep down here in my office,” Percy said, “until I don’t have to have the wheelchair anymore.”

Hermione giggled when the house, showing herself for the first time since Mum had arrived, gave an irritated snort. Percy wasn’t even sure what she had moved to make the sound, but it was obvious something had changed.

“Merlin,” Charlie whispered and Percy looked toward the staircase his brother was eying. It was no longer made up of stairs, instead making a ramp that somehow didn’t look too steep to manage despite being in the same space usually taken up by the stairs. “Looks like she wants you to come pick your room.”

“I suppose so,” Percy agreed as Hermione wheeled him toward the ramp. It worked just like a ramp should, leading them gently up to the second floor. Some of the doors along the hallway were firmly shut, but it was the first door on his left that caught Percy’s eye anyway. There was almost a glimmer to it, undoubtedly the house drawing his attention.

Charlie went to open the door wide. “I took the liberty of putting a bed in here for you, in case you went with this room, but it can be easily moved if you want a different one.”

“No,” Percy said faintly. “I think this one is perfect.”

The walls were a stark white with a contrasting black border and curtains in a diamond pattern, black and white. It was simple but neat, just like he liked things. Somehow, the house was channeling his actual flat, without having anything to go off of. It was astounding.

“If you want, I can go to your flat and collect more of your things,” Charlie offered.

“Or I can bring things from the Burrow,” Mum put in.

Somehow, despite trusting his brother, it was Mum’s offer that was more appealing. “I think I would like some of my things from the Burrow, if you’re sure, Mum.”

She was clearly delighted as she said, “Of course, I can go on over now if you—”

“But we’re not done with the tour,” Charlie protested. He may not be comfortable with Mum, but his desire to show off the house clearly won out.

Mum smiled at him and gestured for him to lead the way. “I do want to see everything,” she agreed. Turning back to Percy, she said, “I’ll get your things in a little bit.”

He couldn’t complain about that, especially when he, too, wanted to see which rooms had been claimed already and remember the layout of the house.

**********

Ginny was anticipating Harry’s ritual so of course, the day at the shop had felt never-ending . Of course it had to be done at twilight, as the day was leaving, so even after dinner there was time to wait. She and Harry had done some flying, friendly competition mixed with heart-stopping dives. It had been good for both of them, she thought.

Now, it was finally time for the day’s main event and Ginny was having a hard time watching patiently from outside the Circle. She had expected Mum and Hermione to sit with her, but both were strangely missing. She knew Hermione — undoubtedly she had gotten caught up with a book somewhere, or possibly one of her brothers was keeping her distracted. But it was unusual for Mum to not be at the Burrow at this hour.

Thank Merlin Bill and Fleur were here, though Bill was busy helping Harry. Fleur, though, was sitting next to Ginny watching the process of getting everything in place. Their hands were clenched together as Ginny watched, trying not to let the feel of Fleur’s warm skin distract her.

Bill was wrapping Harry thoroughly with the cord that had been made for him. It was symbolic of all the bonds he needed to break free from. They were loose enough that he could move around, but they wouldn’t just fall off without some effort. The cord was the only thing he wore.

Finally, Bill was done with the complex ties and had clearly gone over the ritual one last time before stepping back and joining them, sitting down on Ginny’s other side. She was grateful that he had chosen to offer her comfort rather than snuggling with his wife. Of course, it was a bit hot for snuggling, so maybe he just wasn’t in the mood.

In the Circle, Harry had begun to chant as he drew out the arithmantic lines around himself. It was a much smaller space than they had needed for the big rituals, Ginny noticed. He soon finished the Latin bit as he closed the Circle and began calling out to the elements.

He called out first to the Earth to ground himself. After that, he took a long sip of potion before calling on fire to burn away the bonds that should not be, water to wash them away, and finally air to grant him the independence he desired.

As he spoke, the cord around him got looser, and looser. Suddenly, it dropped entirely and a very nude Harry Potter stepped out of the bonds he had once felt tightly around him. It was so very simple, yet also profound the way this man stood proudly on his own. He was alone, and he was free.

And although her previous feelings for him did not return, Ginny was overwhelmed with desire for the strength she saw before her. Yes, Harry Potter was still undoubtedly everything she wanted.

********

Hermione apparated into the Burrow’s orchard and walked up toward the Circle. She could have apparated closer, but she felt she needed a few minutes to adjust. Spending the afternoon with Charlie, Percy, and Molly, joined later by Fred and George, had been exhausting. Not that she didn’t love them all, of course, but the tension between Molly and Charlie was hard to manage. Adding Fred hadn’t helped that any.

Especially when the twins began preparing for a celebration that night.

Not everyone would be sleeping at the house yet, as only some of them had beds, but everyone had agreed to stay for a while after Harry’s ritual. They would be celebrating the ritual, the new house, Percy coming home, and something the twins hadn’t yet announced. Tomorrow, they would have a family meeting that Percy was already pressing for, but tonight was for celebration.

As the night’s summer breeze calmed Hermione from her long day, she enjoyed the walk up to the Circle. When she stepped out of the trees, however, she did not enjoy the sight before her.

A very nude Harry Potter stood, bracing himself as Ginny practically climbed him. Hermione felt none of the former bonds of even friendship that the two had shared, though Bill had hypothesized that those bonds would restore themselves quickly. The only thing she felt was an overwhelming attraction to the man before her and scalding jealousy.

But which one was she jealous of? He held her wife in his arms. But Hermione was just as attracted to him in all his glory.

And she hated the feeling of being completely unbound to him. Before, he had been her best friend, her brother, and sometimes felt like he could be a lover. Now those bonds still existed from her side, but they were… empty.

Staring at the two as they kissed, Hermione didn’t even realize she was crying until a soft touch captured her arm. “Come, petit amour, eet eez okay.”

“How can it be okay?” Hermione hissed, trying to fight down this unexpected sense of hurt.

“Because we’re going to keep you too busy to worry about it,” Bill promised, taking her other arm and suddenly apparating them away.

They landed, the three of them, in the garden of the new house. As the twins had promised, there were blankets spread all over in preparation for the fireworks display they were preparing.

“How did the ritual go?” George asked.

Bill answered, “Perfectly, as far as we can tell. He and Ginny seemed to be rekindling their romance when we left.”

George’s eyes flicked to her and she saw his brows raise in concern, so Hermione shook her head. She could be happy for them. She would be happy for them.

“Well, hopefully they’ll join us before long,” Fred grumbled, “since we’re partially celebrating them.”

“I doubt zey weel mind eef we start weethout zem,” Fleur giggled, though her hand was comforting on the small of Hermione’s back.

“Good,” Fred responded, “then I won’t have to pretend to feel bad about it.” He rubbed his hands together eagerly as everyone laughed except Molly, looking like she wasn’t sure if she should scold him or not.

“Everyone find a blanket and lie down,” George told them.

Even Percy got down on the ground and looked up at the stars. Hermione allowed herself to be drawn onto the blanket with Bill and Fleur, even though she was fairly certain it put Bill half on the grass to have them all lying together.

Before they got started, Fred and George began to talk in their familiar back-and-forth pattern.

“Today we were told—”

“—we could move forward with—”

“—a line of products that will—”

“—help people recover—”

“—from the war!”

“We’re not going into details right now,” George told them, “but we’ll be happy to talk about it in the coming days. We’re very excited — about this, about Percy, and Harry, and about coming home, all together.”

The fireworks the twins sent up exploded in beautiful pictures, making them ooh and aah as they watched a story play out before them, of family and home and dreams, written in the night sky.

Notes:

Thank you to LittleGreenKeet for the mental health product ideas. They were perfect suggestions!

Next chapter they're naming the house, I swear. It's already written and I will try to get it through my team much more quickly so you can have it sooner.

Chapter 50

Notes:

This is a bit faster than I've gotten out the last couple of chapters but I'm just so incredibly excited to share this chapter. Among lots of other things, we finally get to name the house! I can't wait to hear what you all think!

Thank you to my amazing team who makes this happen, to those of you who suggested names, and to all the friends I queried about certain names. More specific thank yous in the end notes.

Hermione was woken by heat, pressed between two warm bodies. It took her a moment to remember which of her spice she had gone to bed with the night before, but Fleur’s delicate hand cupping Hermione’s breast gave her some insight.

The hand wasn’t moving, just holding, its owner presumably still asleep. Hermione had kept the two of them up entirely too late last night. Or they had kept her up — it was debatable, really, whose fault the evening had been.

Much as she didn’t want to admit it, Hermione had been badly in need of physical reassurance that she was wanted somewhere even though she knew logically that she was being beyond ridiculous. She had eight spice to satisfy. She hardly needed to add anyone else to the mix, especially her best friend. He would be much happier now that he could be with Ginny.

Of course, that brought up a whole other can of flobberworms — especially when you took into account the conversation with Percy about what she was and wasn’t allowed to do. Ginny and Harry were meant to be, so Hermione wasn’t about to stand in the way of that, but that meant sharing Ginny as well as Percy and Bill and Fleur, even if two of those were shared with each other.

Hermione just wasn’t sure how she would feel about that if she wasn’t personally allowed to explore if she wanted to. And she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Unless she distracted herself.

Bill was lying on his stomach a little bit away from them, so it was easy to ignore him and focus on Fleur for the moment. It didn’t have the same effect on her that it would have on a man, of course, but Hermione found herself rocking her bottom into Fleur’s hips anyway.

The hand on her breast suddenly tensed, a sign that Fleur was waking. After a moment, those delicate fingers began lightly stroking Hermione’s nipple. “Deed we not take care of you well enough last night?” the older girl whispered.

“Maybe I wanted you to wake up so I could take care of you,” Hermione suggested, looking over her shoulder at the Veela woman. Fleur’s eyes were heavy-lidded, still half asleep, but it made her somehow even more appealing.

Hermione turned to face Fleur, delighting in the other woman’s hands tracing her sides and hips as she did. Snuggling against each other, they began to kiss.

Slowly, Hermione worked her lips away from Fleur’s and began to softly nibble on her neck and collarbone. She loved the soft swell of breasts beneath her, and grazed her fingertips across the peaks of Fleur’s nipples, making her moan low in her throat.

Fleur tried multiple times to gain the upper hand, but Hermione was having none of it, focused on moving down the other woman’s body and giving her the kind of toe-curling pleasure that Bill and Fleur had both tried to distract her with last night. They had done a good job, and Fleur deserved the same. Bill, well, perhaps there would be time for him later. If he wanted to join them, he shouldn’t have sprawled out away from them on the bed.

Parting Fleur’s thighs with a firm hand, Hermione was glad she was finally feeling confident around a woman’s body. Not that she had known what she was doing with men either, really, but she had felt more prepared for that somehow.

Pushing those thoughts away for now, she circled Fleur’s clit with her thumb. She had hoped to work a finger inside her as well, but Fleur wasn’t turned on enough yet. Hermione could fix that. With a grin, Hermione moved down the bed and planted herself between Fleur’s legs, ready to feast on her.

In no time, the other woman was slick and ready to be filled by Hermione’s fingers, thrashing around on the bed as she tried to be quiet and let Bill sleep.

Of course that didn’t last. However, when he rolled over, Bill seemed quite content to just watch them at first before slowly reaching over and playing with Fleur’s nipple closest to him. It was almost a casual touch, but he clearly knew just the way to stroke her to make her even more sensitive and responsive.

“Beel,” she cried out, making Hermione redouble her efforts down low until Fleur added her name as well. “Zis eez not fair!” Fleur protested. “Two against one.”

“What do you think last night was for me?” Hermione asked with what she knew was a wicked grin. She had loved every minute of it, of course, just like Fleur was loving this.

“Come here,” Bill said gruffly, getting off the bed and confusing both of his wives. “To the edge of the bed,” he clarified.

Within moments, he had arranged them so that Fleur’s legs hung off the bed — or could wrap around his waist, he could easily stand up straight and fuck her after adjusting the bed height just a bit, and Hermione was able to continue lapping and sucking at Fleur’s clit.

Better yet, once Bill’s cock was moving in and out of Fleur, Hermione could lick him as he pulled out, her mouth teasing Fleur close to the edge at the same time that Bill groaned her name. “Yes, little love,” he encouraged. “Help me fuck her senseless.”

Hermione was thrilled to be a part of that, a part of making the Veela fall apart. And fall apart she did, just before Bill’s hips began moving erratically and Hermione turned her mouth’s efforts more to him, her hand reaching around to cup his balls, rolling them gently in her hand, while he pounded into Fleur.

His knees gave out when he came, collapsing on the bed on top of Hermione and Fleur to avoid falling to the floor. After a moment of catching his breath while the girls struggled out from under him, Bill said, “I’ll never get used to being lucky enough to wake up this way.”

“I feel the same way,” Hermione admitted.

“Oui,” Fleur said simply, pulling Hermione in for another kiss, followed by one from Bill, and then Hermione lost all sense of whose kisses were when, just aware that they were all snogging until Bill’s wand began vibrating.

“Damn,” he swore. “I have to take Percy to his Healer follow-up and then a meeting with Kingsley.”

Fleur sighed. “I should go work at ze Wizengamot, too. Ron eez meeting me zere.”

For a moment, Hermione felt adrift. “I could go with you, Bill.”

He nodded. “You should at least come with me to the house. Then you can see if that’s still what you want to do.”

Hermione nodded, though in this moment, she wanted nothing more than to preserve the closeness she felt to them both.

“We really need to get her named,” he noted as he began getting dressed.

“That’s part of what today’s meeting is about, right?” Hermione prompted.

Frowning, Bill nodded. “Part of it. Another part is Percy wanting to talk to us all, which always worries me.”

“Why?” Hermione questioned.

“Well, last time he wanted to talk to us, he ripped us all a new arsehole,” Bill pointed out. “I don’t have a clue what this one is about, but I don’t like how nervous he seems.”

Biting her lip, Hermione couldn’t decide if she should let him know the general topic or not. She was saved from the conversation by the alarm on Bill’s wand going off again, sending them scurrying for the floo.

**********

Frustration flooded Percy’s veins as the Healer spoke. At least he wasn’t to be confined in the wheelchair any longer, but he hated the restrictions the Healer was speaking of.

“And furthermore, we can’t explain why your body temperature continues to be elevated, so until your next appointment, you should remain in a calm and relaxing environment,” the Healer said.

Now it was horror that rushed through him. As he feared, the next words out of the Healer’s mouth were, “You need to stay home from work for at least another week, preferably two—”

“No! Absolutely not!” Percy burst out. “I’ll go mad. There’s nothing calm or relaxing about twiddling my thumbs while I know the Minister needs me.”

The Healer looked nonplussed for a moment, shaking his head. “You have a very high-stress job, Mr. Weasley. In good conscience, I cannot—”

“I assure you that my stress is much higher being kept away.”

Looking at him with pursed lips, the man finally gave a short nod. “I will write a strongly worded note to the Minister about what you’re allowed.”

“I’ll be sure to give it to him,” Percy agreed, unable to keep a grin from blossoming on his face.

“Liar,” the Healer answered cheerfully. “Which is why I’m owling it to him rather than giving it to you. I’m under very strict instructions from Minister Shacklebolt about ensuring your health.”

Percy sputtered. “He can’t just—”

“He did. And we let him. And we’ll continue to let him since it means you’ll be seen to properly,” the Healer told him pointedly. Turning, the man waved his wand and the note he had made folded itself into an envelope with Kingsley’s name on it. An owl swooped in and it was gone before Percy could protest further.

“What did the note say?” Percy asked through gritted teeth.

The Healer smiled benignly. “Nothing bad, Mr. Weasley. But if you want to continue discussing it, I can send another owl suggesting you not work for two weeks instead.” In that moment, the man reminded Percy more of his mother than anyone else.

Sighing, Percy gave in. “We don’t need to discuss anything further.”

In moments, he was sweeping back through the waiting room, nodding to Bill as he went. His brother had to nearly sprint to catch up with him.

“Well, what did the Healer say?” Bill asked.

“I’m free to go back to work,” Percy said quickly.

“Then what’s got you in such a snit?”

Pausing, Percy realized his brother knew him too well for his behavior to work. He sighed again, thinking fast as he did it. He could admit to part of the truth and still be free to do what he needed in his free time. “There are restrictions, but he owled them straight to Ki— the Minister.”

Bill had the audacity to start laughing. “Ah, how the mighty have fallen. So where are we going now?” Percy was still walking fast enough that Bill was jogging slightly to keep up. Honestly, Percy’s chest hurt from the exertion, but he wasn’t going to get better by pampering himself.

“To the Minister’s office to find out what the damned owl said,” Percy snapped. It didn’t help one bit that Bill laughed some more at that.

Soon he was making his way through the Ministry, trying not to snarl at people on the way up to the Minister’s office. Even as out of sorts as Percy was, he still had enough sense to know he would regret being unapproachable later, if he behaved the way he wanted to. Besides, he had to admit it was flattering to see how many people were happy to have him back at the Ministry.

Of course, he had saved the Minister.

Much as he didn’t want to admit it, Percy was completely winded by the time they made it into the lifts. He was off balance enough that when the lift lurched backward, he stumbled and would have fallen if Bill hadn’t caught him. His older brother gave him a look they both knew meant he wasn’t fooled by Percy acting like he was fine. Thank Merlin no one else had been in there with them.

When the lift opened, Percy set a more sedate pace, not wanting Kingsley to see him out of breath. He ignored Bill’s worried stare and focused on making his breathing even as he strolled toward the Minister’s office.

It still didn’t help. Percy opened the door to the office and stepped inside. Kingsley’s reaction was not quite what he had hoped for.

“Percival, what the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“I want to know what that bloody Healer claimed—”

“You mean you want to try and find ways around your restrictions,” Kingsley said knowingly. “That won’t be happening.”

“I don’t even know—”

“What they are?” Kingsley’s lips twitched with suppressed mirth. “Healer Turncut mentioned he hadn’t told you. Rest assured I will make sure you follow them.”

“That’s a little heavy handed, don’t you think?” Percy sputtered.

“Do you want to come back to work Monday or not?” Kingsley asked.

“Monday? I planned to start today,” he argued.

“Your note says to leave you off for the rest of today, at least. And Bill — hello, Bill — could you please make sure your brother here takes it easy the rest of today?”

“Of course,” Bill answered. “Anything in particular?”

“He should avoid anything that could raise his temperature. Like charging through the Ministry,” Kingsley suggested dryly.

Bill snorted. “I’ll do my best. Are you sure the Healer didn’t think it was a good idea to keep him in a wheelchair? That might have made it easier.”

“Probably,” Kingsley responded. “But unfortunately it does seem that he’s allowed on his own two feet.”

Percy scowled. “Are you two done talking about me like I’m not here?”

“Are you done acting like you’re fine when you obviously still aren’t?” Bill questioned.

Kingsley rose from his desk and came over to Percy. His voice dropped to a low, rich purr when he said, “We just want to take care of you.”

“For the record, I do not want to take care of you like that,” Bill said, laughing when Percy gave him two fingers. “I’ll just see myself out for the moment. Should I stay close, Kings, or should I spend some time in my office?”

“Go to your office,” Percy said decisively. He was tired of them making choices for him. Kingsley looked hesitant, but nodded after a moment.

Kingsley stepped outside the office for a moment and told one of the Aurors to go with and guard Bill while he attended some business in his office.

Bill shook his head as he made his way out the door. Percy wasn’t sure what his oldest brother thought of this relationship except he clearly didn’t want to see it.

“I’ve missed you,” Kingsley said as he pressed a chaste kiss to Percy’s lips. Percy leaned in to deepen it, but the other man pulled back, shaking his head. “We’re not raising your temperature, remember?”

“But I—”

“But if you’re a very good boy about it, I might let you look at some of these reports even though you’re not working today.”

“Oh!” Percy said, instantly distracted. He didn’t even notice the worried crease on Kingsley’s brow as he watched Percy shifting through the paperwork he had set aside for him. They had much to discuss.

*********

Harry squared his shoulders and walked into the bank. He should have someone with him. He knew that.

And he had planned to ask Bill to take him to Gringotts, but that was ridiculous for a number of reasons. Bill didn’t even work there anymore, and the goblins didn’t love him. But aside from that, Harry was an adult now — a grown man with a baby on the way. He shouldn’t need someone else to help him talk to his own account manager or go to his vaults.

He waited in line until a teller was available, then asked politely if he could speak with his account manager, Darbold. They sent him to a small seated waiting area, and left him to wait long enough that Harry began to get a bit bored.

A bored Harry Potter was always a dangerous thing. For some reason, he heard that thought in Hermione’s voice and grinned at it. Then he shook his head to banish it. After a night spent with Ginny, he really shouldn’t be thinking about Hermione.

Of course, she was still his friend, and they shared so much history. One of the many reasons he was here today was to get some more of the books about his duties as Lord Potter, and hopefully some about the history of his other Lordships as well. He fervently hoped that learning more about his duties and proper behavior would give him some clues about the kind of bonds he might be willing to form with various people.

He hadn’t seen Hermione yet, but the frequency with which his mind turned to her made him think he needed this information about her more than any others. Should he use some sort of ritual to make her his sister? Or what was it Bill had inadvertently done before? Made her a ward of House Potter? But that hadn’t stopped his attraction to her. Perhaps if he made her his sister, it would.

That the very thought made his heart ache bothered him.

“Lord Potter,” a goblin snapped, bringing Harry abruptly out of his wool gathering. “If you’re done daydreaming, you could follow me.”

“Yes, of course, sir,” Harry responded, hopping to his feet. Once inside the office he recognized having been to before, Harry didn’t wait for the goblin to ask what he needed. Instead, he rushed out, “I’m here to look over my accounts and things and maybe have a few more books about my Lordships, if there are any. I would also like to visit the vaults.”

“Of course, Lord Potter,” Darbold said with a pleased grin. “I think you will find that Gringotts has tended your accounts well and watched them grow accordingly over the years.”

“You mean you have,” Harry noted with a smile.

“I do,” Darbold agreed. “At least as far as the Potter accounts are concerned. Other managers handled the Black and Gryffindor accounts. The Gaunts were so penniless by the end that the meager contents of their vaults were possessed for failure to pay their vault fees. So there is nothing there.”

“I think I’ll survive without them,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow to confirm.

The goblin chortled. “I imagine you will.”

With that, they got down to business — more business than Harry ever could have imagined. Yes, his vaults contained enough galleons to make his riches rival the Malfoys’— or what the Malfoys had previously had, at least — but there were also businesses, investments, and a number of properties.

He had read about Potter Manor, of course, in the books Darbold had given him the first time. It had been a crushing blow to learn that the Death Eaters had burnt the whole thing to the ground. And, of course, there was the cottage at Godric’s Hollow. But now he learned that there were other properties that hadn’t been mentioned in those books. Namely, a flat in London that his father had apparently lived in before marriage and another cottage in some place called Witchborough, which Harry assumed must be a wizarding village. There was no explanation of when or how it came into the family, but he supposed it didn’t matter.

He was relieved that neither appeared very big. He would have felt awful if he had a place they all could have called home and yet hadn’t offered it. Much as everyone loved their new home already, it was an expense that he knew was a strain on the Weasleys. Apparently Harry had enough money that he would most definitely be offering to pay his share.

The more interesting part of the properties, in his opinion, was the stuff listed inside. Hermione would be thrilled to know that the cottage had a library. There was also apparently a music room. He tucked that information away as potentially useful. He knew George had mentioned feeling like one of the downstairs rooms would be perfect for a piano.

What gave him pause was when he came to the bottom of the cottage’s list to find two of what could only be names: Norby and Tilly. He had a sinking feeling in his gut. Hermione was going to kill him.

“What are these?” he asked Darbold.

The goblin peeked over the edge of his glasses to see properly before grinning. “Those are the former Potter Manor elves, Lord Potter. The ones who survived, at least. They would have popped over to another property to await instructions. Perhaps they stayed at the cottage at your father’s request.”

“Or perhaps they were simply forgotten there?” Harry supplied, realizing that was a possibility. Though why his father would have forgotten them, he couldn’t imagine.

“It’s a possibility,” Darbold replied, gritting his sharp teeth.

“How do I check on them?” Harry asked without thinking.

The goblin rolled his eyes. “You call their names, wherever you are, and they’ll appear to you, Lord Potter. I was unaware that you didn’t know how to control your house elves.”

“I didn’t know they existed until a few moments ago,” Harry retorted. Then he hesitantly called the two names.

Two house elves appeared, very different in looks and demeanor.

The first was a strong-looking, wiry fellow, larger than any other house elf Harry had seen. He was obviously older, but in good shape. He wore something resembling pants and a tunic, with a Potter family emblem on the chest of his tunic. His hands and knees were dirty, as though he had just come from a task. Though, looking at Harry, he snapped his gnarly fingers and the dirt disappeared. He bowed and said, “You call us at last, Young Master.”

The second was tiny, obviously female, but very young-looking. If she had been the family elf seventeen years ago, she must have been practically an infant. Or maybe not. Harry realized he knew nothing about how house elves aged, but she had to be young. She was wearing what looked like a miniature set of witch’s robes, in a bright pink shade that matched her rosy cheeks. She looked down at herself and then up at him, distressed. Instead of bowing or speaking, she simply squeaked and scooted behind the male elf.

“Tilly,” the first elf — Norby — snapped, “You do the Master a disservice. I told you to stop playing in the Mistress’s things.” Turning back to Harry, he begged, “Please forgive her, Tilly had only begun her service when we had to flee our home.”

Unable to process that he was their Master and that the elves felt both apologetic and reproachful toward him, Harry blurted the first thing he had noticed, “You don’t talk like the other house elves I’ve met.”

Norby gave him an appraising look before saying, “We’ve had a lot of time on our hands—”

“—And a rather large library—” Tilly said meekly.

“—To better educate ourselves. The cottage is rather small for two elves to tend with no witch or wizard inside to dirty it,” Norby finished his explanation.

“You’ve been waiting all these years for me to call for you?” Harry asked, feeling guilty.

The two elves nodded eagerly. “Please give us work,” Tilly begged quietly. “I want to be a good elf.”

“Wouldn’t you be happier if I freed you?” Harry ventured.

They both gasped like he had hit them. “We have worked for you all these years and now you wish to cut our bonds?” Norby asked angrily.

“No, no!” Harry backtracked. “I just wanted to know if you would rather—”

“Well we certainly would not,” Norby answered. “What we want, if you’re taking that into consideration, is for you to move us to wherever you live and let us take care of you.”

Harry found himself liking the old elf’s spunk, though he got the distinct impression it wasn’t a mutual feeling. Tilly’s meekness worried him, especially if he was considering taking her into the chaos that was the Weasleys, but he found himself considering that very thing. They were a huge and busy family, after all, and Teddy was going to be there for the foreseeable future, and then his and Ginny’s baby.

Hermione might murder him, but Harry found himself nodding. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” Norby asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Okay,” Harry agreed. “I can’t give you an address. We haven’t exactly named the house yet, but I can call for you when I get back there?”

“That will do,” Norby agreed. “Tilly and I will go and gather our things.” Tilly was still half hiding behind the older elf, but now she was bouncing on her toes, looking excited.

When the two elves popped away, Harry realized he was beginning to worry. Hermione really might murder him for this. But he could hardly leave them wasting away in an empty cottage. Surely she would understand that.

Setting it aside, he asked, “Could we go down to my vaults now? I’m hoping to find my family Legacies.”

Darbold gave a swift nod. “Keeping them safe is our top priority. There should be Legacies within each of the main vaults of the Potters, Blacks, and Gryffindors. Did you want to stop by each of those vaults?”

“Merlin,” Harry whispered in shock. “Yes,” he agreed.

**********

George whistled happily as he locked up the shop for the day. Business was good. The advances they were making on new products were going along swimmingly. His and Fred’s room in the new house was good. His time with Hermione had been phenomenal. All in all, his spirits were high.

Yes, he had initially thought he wanted a room of his own in the new house, and his mind still wavered, but George had mostly come to agree with Fred’s feelings on the matter. It would have been hard to be separated after everything they had been through and, on the rare occasions when George wanted his privacy, Fred would either go to Hermione’s room or would gladly sleep on a couch. His twin hadn’t said so, but George knew without being told that Fred was afraid of being in a room alone in the dark.

Furthermore, he couldn’t wait for tonight’s meeting, when they would finally all be together in the house and have the opportunity to name her. She really deserved to be called something. George knew he had a few suggestions. He just hoped she wasn’t offended by any of them.

Turning to Fred, he asked, “Are we ready to go or do we still have clean-up to do?”

“We’re all set in back,” Fred said. “Let’s check in with our dearest sister about the front.”

A simple glance around said it was mostly fine, but Fred was right that they should ask and be sure. Besides, they couldn’t leave until Gin was ready to go anyway.

“Ginbug,” Fred called. “Are you ready?”

Ginny rolled her eyes at the nickname, but smiled despite herself. “Let me just finish counting the till,” she answered. He could tell she was looking forward to the meeting as well. Though, in general, she had been in a much better mood today. Score one for the Boy Who Lived.

Soon, Ginny was also ready to go, and the three of them headed for the Leaky so they could floo to the Three Broomsticks and finally fly to the house. It was a ridiculously complex way of getting there — yet another reason they needed to name her and get the floo set up.

When they entered the house, they found the sitting room was rather full. They were the last three to arrive besides Ron. Ever since the attack on the Wizengamot, he and the entire Auror department had been run ragged chasing every possible lead on the Death Eaters. Of course they sent the trainees out on the ones least likely to see action, but they were still very busy.

Everyone was either standing or lounging on the floor on transfigured pillows. George threw himself down next to Hermione, putting his head on her lap. To his delight, she laughed and started running her hand through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. All his tension from the day leaked away as he lolled against her.

Fred looked disgruntled for a moment before plopping himself down on her other side and copying George’s move. Hermione huffed but moved one hand to Fred’s head as she leaned back against Charlie behind her.

“Why is it always you three surrounding her?” Ginny asked, but she was grinning. “Fine, just means that I get a real chair.”

“From where?” Fred asked, half sitting up.

To George’s surprise, one of the comfy orange chairs from their flat came soaring down the stairs and landed in front of Ginny before she put her wand away, still grinning.

“Oi! How did that get here?” George asked.

“I stole it,” Ginny laughed. “Neither of you even noticed I nicked it.”

“Course we didn’t — we haven’t been in the flat in days,” Fred groused.

“George has,” Ginny answered slyly, eying Hermione. “For some reason, he didn’t even notice.”

“You can’t just make off with our furniture,” Fred protested.

“Already did,” she said as she settled into the chair. “Consider it a well played prank.”

“She’s got you there,” Bill said. Before Fred could open his mouth again, a pop sounded outside and a few moments later, Ron stumbled inside. He looked beat.

Throwing himself on the floor next to Harry, he mumbled, “Get to it before I fall asleep.” It made everyone chuckle except Hermione and Percy who both looked at him a little worriedly.

“I can do that,” Bill responded. “I think we have a few things to cover, but the most important is naming the house,” he began.

The lights glowed bright and George knew it was her way of expressing pleasure.

“Wait,” said Ron, “There’s one thing I think we should talk about first.” The lights dimmed.

“What’s that?” Bill asked, not sounding pleased about it.

“Mum,” Ron replied.

“Mum?” everyone asked in surprise.

“What’s she done now?” Fred demanded.

“Nothing, you git. But she’s not protected,” Ron explained. “All of us have to go everywhere together, ‘cept me and I’m with Millie and other Aurors. But Mum’s vulnerable out at The Burrow alone.”

“Serves her right,” Fred muttered, but there wasn’t as much conviction behind his words as there usually was.

“She was safe while she was sitting with me at St. Mungo’s,” Percy reflected. “Perhaps we could keep her with me?”

“But you’ll be back to work,” Hermione pointed out.

“And she would hate that, not being home all day taking care of things,” Ron added. “For now, I can keep living there, but that still doesn’t help her during the day.”

“You don’t want to live here with everyone else?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Well sure, I want to,” Ron told him, “But inviting Mum to live here wouldn’t work, and we can’t just leave her alone. Much as she’s been a pain in the arse, she’s a weak point for all of us.”

“It’s only temporary,” Charlie put in. “Once the Hogwarts year begins, she’ll be at the castle and perfectly safe.”

“Aunt Muriel!” Ginny suddenly said. “Maybe Aunt Muriel would stay with Mum and—”

“And then we’ll have two old witches to watch over,” Ron groaned.

“I was thinking she’s more formidable than we used to give her credit for and they would keep each other safe enough,” Ginny argued.

Bill was rubbing his chin. “Maybe. That just might work, Gin. At least during the days, and then have Ron there at night. I’ll talk to Mum about it. And maybe I can be there with them sometimes. I still have a lot to learn, after all.”

Harry gulped, but added a timid, “Me, too. And it’s learn from them or from Neville’s gran. I’m not sure who scares me more.”

“Or you could ask Theo,” Ron suggested. “He’s teaching Millie how to do everything.”

George felt his curiosity pique when Harry blushed slightly at that and ducked his head. “Maybe. I’ll have to think about it.”

Bill said, “Well, if that’s sorted, we’re back to naming our girl, here.” The light in the house brightened again.

“We could call her The Warren,” Percy made the first suggestion. “It would be similar to The Burrow but—” He was cut off by the kitchen cabinets rattling.

“I considered Warren as well,” Charlie started, rushing on when the rattling got louder, “but discarded it when I realized she probably wouldn’t like such a male name.” The cabinets calmed, though George still had the feeling she was unhappy with them. “Besides, a warren is for rabbits, which we are not.”

“We fuck like them,” Fred muttered, making Hermione blush and those closest to her snort with laughter. Even the house seemed amused as the cabinets opened and closed in a way that felt like laughter.

“What about the Grange? It means a country house with farm buildings, which is what she is, and it sounds like Granger.”

Charlie was shaking his head, but it was Hermione who said, “I don’t think so. I’ve honestly never liked Granger much. It’s the worst sounding word. Like gray and grunge mixed together. I can’t imagine she’d be happy with that.” The house almost seemed to sigh in relief.

Apologetically, Charlie said, “There’s Holt, too. It’s an otter’s habitat. But it’s a little too masculine as well, I’m afraid.”

“Maybe eet should ‘ave something to do with seven, since there are seven siblings,” Fleur suggested.

“Or nine since with you and Hermione there are nine spouses,” Percy pointed out.

“Maybe September something? For the nine and it would celebrate Hermione’s birthday,” Bill suggested. The house dimmed a little. She didn’t seem to hate it, but George was certain she didn’t love it either.

“Or Seven Flames if we’re going for the sibling thing,” George offered. “For our hair.” She perked up a bit at that, but ultimately wasn’t impressed with it, either.

“Wait!” said Fred, “We should have an acronym — like SPEW!”

“S.P.E.W.” Hermione protested, but she was drowned out by Ron’s exclamation.

“We could call it WART for Weasleys’ Admirable Residential Territory!”

“Or BARF for Blessed Abode of the Remarkable Family!” Fred cried out. The house didn’t seem to know whether to laugh or be horrified — her lights were flickering and the cabinets were opening and closing and rattling at the same time.

“FART!” Ron burst out, laughing so hard he could barely finish, “For Fantastic Arses and Radiant Teeth! Get it, Hermione? You have great teeth because of your parents and we all have great arses!”

“You mean you are great arses,” Hermione returned, but she was laughing, too.

George couldn’t help himself, “How about Hermione’s CHARM for Collection of Husbands and Random Men?”

She stopped petting his hair and punched him on the shoulder instead. “That’s not funny!” But the house was clearly laughing.

“Besides, there are more than men living here!” Ginny protested. “We should live in the Spice Cupboard,” she added with a grin. Everyone, even Hermione, hooted with laughter at that. The very walls shook for a moment, the house clearly enjoying the humor as well, but then stilled and dimmed the lights.

“I think she’s amused but wouldn’t be pleased with being called a cupboard,” Charlie suggested gently. “It needs to be something that’s more of a woman’s name. Something we can call her when we talk to her.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking to a house.” She dimmed the lights again and the whole house began to rattle ominously until Ron stammered, “Sorry, sorry. I will talk to you!”

“A woman’s name, huh? You don’t think she would want to just be called Home or the Weasley Den?” Bill asked.

Fred was thinking fast. “HOME for House of Magical Enterprises, not bad. And Weasley Den we could just call W.D.”

“I am not dealing with 40 of you,” Hermione muttered.

“Forty?” George repeated in shock.

“How would we even have that many children?” Fred asked incredulously. For some reason, Harry had fallen backwards onto the floor, he was laughing so hard.

“It was a joke,” Hermione said, face flushed. “It’s a muggle thing.”

“So we need a woman’s name,” Fleur refocused everyone. “I think she looks like a Greta. Eet means pearl, so she would be precious.”

“Ginger Radiance Enchanting Terrific Abode,” Fred said under his breath, making Hermione and George laugh. The house seemed almost to lean in, but her lights dimmed slightly.

“On ze right track but not fond of Greta?” Fleur questioned. The lights brightened again.

“Holly?” Ginny suggested. “In the language of flowers, it is associated with domestic happiness and happy greetings.”

Fleur smiled and added, “It could stand for ‘Ouse Of Love, Laughter, and—”

“Yelling!” Fred finished. “Plenty of that around here.” The house, which had been glowing happily grew dim at the last bit and a floorboard bumped Fred’s arse into the air. “Oi!” he yelped as the others laughed.

“I like the flower idea,” Harry said. He offered, “We could name her Lily.” The way the house dimmed this time felt more like grief and a hug than disappointment.

“Harry, what if this is a girl I’m carrying?” Ginny asked. “We might want to name her Lily.”

“I… I hadn’t thought of that,” he answered honestly.

“What about a reference to Queen Anne’s Lace?” Percy asked. “It means sanctuary, safety, and refuge. That’s just what she is to us, so we could call her Anne or even Queen Anne.” The lights brightened significantly and the cabinets clapped.

“I could see going with Anne,” Bill began and the house began to darken, “But adding Queen to it is just a bit pretentious, don’t you think?”

“I think she quite liked it until you ruined it,” Charlie said, giving his older brother a look that said to shut up.

George sat up suddenly. “What about calling her Ginger?”

Fred popped up with, “Gingers’ Inviting Nest for Gigantic Erotic Rejuvenation.”

“Fred!” Hermione scolded, but he just grinned unrepentantly and offered, “Or HAVEN for Hermione’s Association of Very Eager Nymphomaniacs?”

As Hermione sputtered at him, everyone — even the house — chortled. But then she brightened again. Finally, she managed her comeback, “Perhaps we should go with FIAT Cottage for Fred Is A Tosser!”

“Here, here!” several of their siblings chorused as the house laughed even harder.

“Actually, I really like Haven,” Charlie said. “What do you think, lovely?” The house seemed to calm for a moment, thinking about it before the lights brightened again, almost seeming to twinkle.

“What would you think of making it ‘something-’ Haven?” Hermione asked. “I’m afraid Haven by itself may be the name of some other place.”

The house seemed neutral enough on this idea, so they began trying to think of names that would go with Haven.

“She could be Whispering Haven,” Percy suggested, “for all the secrets she’ll be hiding in a house full of pranking Weasleys.”

“You’re assuming she’ll let them get away with things,” Charlie laughed and the house shook with him.

“Harmony Haven?” Bill offered.

Ginny snorted. “Like we’re that harmonious.”

“Besides, that sounds like it belongs to someone else,” George said. He couldn’t help but look at Harry for some reason. Maybe that would have been the name of his house if circumstances were different. Shaking the odd feeling away, he thought of one. “Zephyr Haven!”

“Why that one?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Because zephyr is a fantastic word,” George answered with a smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but was smiling just as broadly. “Oh! That reminds me of a book I loved as a child, ‘Anne of Green Gables.’ Maybe we could go with Inglehaven?”

“It’s from this book?” George asked.

“Well, in the book they used Ingleside, but I like Inglehaven, too. It comes from the old gaelic word ‘angeal’ for light or fire,” Hermione explained. A fire suddenly flared in the fireplace, making them all jump.

“You like that name?” Charlie asked. The lights brightened. “Or you just like fire?” The fire flared. “Good thing I cleaned that out,” he muttered and George snorted.

“So other names that mean fire maybe?” Bill ventured.

“Enya?” Charlie asked. The house blanched, lights dimming.

Ginny suggested, “Seraphina?” She preened, but then the lights flickered a bit.

“I think she likes it but doesn’t want it for her name,” George interpreted. He could almost feel her beaming at him.

“Ember?” The lights went up and the fire blazed. “You like that one?” Harry asked, seeming pleased he had come up with it.

“Emberhaven,” Hermione tried. The house still seemed chuffed. “I like it. What do you all think?”

“It suits her,” Charlie said simply.

“I love zat eet eez fire een ze meaning, for your ‘air and your spirits and ze phoenix from ze Order. Eet eez a good symbol, ze rising from ze embers,” Fleur explained her thoughts.

“Wait!” Fred demanded. “We need to know what it stands for!”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but said, “Enchanted Magical Blessing for Everyone’s Rejuvenation.”

“And we all know what Haven stands for,” Fred said, dancing out of the way when she tried to hit him.

“If you’re done being a prat, I think we’ve found the perfect name for our girl,” Hermione said, smiling as she ran a hand along the floor and Emberhaven shuddered in delight.

“I’m never done being a prat,” Fred said, “but I’m glad she’s happy. That was hard.”

“Speaking of hard, it’s about time for scheduling, isn’t it?” Ron asked.

“Not yet,” Percy suddenly said, standing as his hand went to straighten a tie he wasn’t wearing today. “I have a couple of things I need to discuss.”

Ron groaned. “We’re taking care of her, aren’t we?” he asked, glaring around at the rest of them.

George nodded and saw the others do the same, though watching Percy, he didn’t think that was what this was about. He seemed on edge about something. “What is it?” he encouraged.

Clearing his throat, Percy squared his shoulders, put his hands down at his sides even though they were balled into fists and said, “I’m seeing someone.”

Fred said, “You might have missed it, mate, but you’re actually married to her.” The tension in the room was sliced as everyone laughed, but Percy had crossed his arms now.

“I know I’m married to Hermione. I’m telling you all that there’s someone else I’m with, too.”

“You’re cheating on Hermione?” Ron asked, glancing over at Harry before the two of them began to rise off the floor with a menacing look in their eyes.

“No! Merlin,” Hermione protested. “He’s no more cheating on me than Bill is by being married to Fleur… or Ginny being with Harry.”

There was a pause and then Charlie asked, “Is this new or was it an established relationship?”

“It’s still new, just a few weeks,” Percy said, “but… some parts of it were going on before.” The look he exchanged with Hermione said he was about to jump in the deep end of whatever this was he was telling them.

“‘Oo eez ze girl?” Fleur asked. Her nostrils were flaring and she seemed too preoccupied looking between Percy and Hermione to notice when Bill shook his head slightly.

“Man, actually,” Percy said. He bit his lower lip before saying, “It’s Kingsley.”

There was a beat of dead silence before everyone broke out talking at once. It was hard to even tell what anyone was saying, but it was clear when Ron said, “Fucking your way to the top, eh?” Percy heard that loud and clear.

“I am most certainly not using our relationship to gain a leg up at the Ministry. As one of the only people left from the previous administration, I have invaluable knowledge that keeps me working in the top spot under Kingsley.”

“Yeah, I bet you like it under Kingsley,” Fred muttered, but it was heard.

“I think you might be surprised,” Hermione answered casually.

With round eyes, they looked back at Percy, who was grinning at Hermione with a look in his eyes that George didn’t particularly want to interpret. To say it was heated was an understatement. His cheeks flushed a bit brighter red as he told them, “My preferences are really none of your business, or so I thought, but it has been brought to my attention that, now that we share a wife, that isn’t really true any longer.”

“I’m fine with you seeing Kingsley,” Bill said firmly, “as long as Hermione is okay with it, and it seems she is.”

“I am,” she confirmed. “I don’t know that we’ve ever discussed it before, but this marriage was a necessity for all of us. I am happy to be here and I think you all are, too, but I don’t want it to be a barrier to anyone’s happiness.”

“We’ll come back to that in a moment,” Percy said before anyone else could respond. “I want to explain for just a moment more about Kingsley and I. For a while, I have been part of the BDSM community—”

“Like, an actual community of kinky sex people?” Ginny asked, eyes bright. George bit back a groan at her look of interest. This definitely fell into the category of things he did not want to consider about his sister. Apparently a thought shared by Percy.

“Yes, but not one my pregnant teenage sister needs to consider anything about,” Percy answered tersely. “So, as part of the community,” he continued, “I was involved with Kingsley in a way, but not in a relationship.” Oh Merlin, George didn’t want more details about his brother in this lifestyle either.

“You were fuck buddies with the Minister of Magic?” Ron asked.

“Must you be so crude?” Percy asked with a frustrated sigh. “No, actually. We were engaging in other things that the community can provide, the details of which are none of your business. We weren’t in a relationship until the day you, Ron, secured your bond with Hermione.”

“Oh,” Ron said, his ears turning red. “Oops.”

“I don’t regret it,” Percy told him, “but it does make an already complicated situation more so. Does anyone have a problem with my relationship with Kingsley?”

Everyone shook their heads. Surprisingly it was Fleur who spoke up. “Eet would ‘ave been ‘arder to accept another woman een our group, but zis eez easier.”

“Why would a woman be harder?” George found himself asking out of curiosity.

Bill answered for her. “Fleur’s Veela side would see a woman in the group as competition for Hermione’s affection.”

“What about Ginny?” Charlie asked, sounding concerned.

Fleur’s voice was a purr when she said, “I do not mind Ginny.”

“But others, you would? That might make the next part a bit more difficult then,” Percy said, looking concerned.

“What’s that?” Ginny asked warily.

“I sometimes take other partners for fun times,” Percy began. Bill and Fred both looked like they were going to protest, but Percy glared at them and went on. “And I wanted to include Hermione in my lifestyle if she was interested.”

“What!?” Harry burst out. George wasn’t sure why it was Harry who was so upset by this, but he realized several of the others were nodding along, looking angry or upset. George wasn’t sure what he felt. Instead, he looked at Hermione.

She was biting her lower lip, her eyes on the floor, but flicking around to see everyone’s reactions. When her eyes accidentally met his, George smiled at her, hoping it would reassure her that at least one of her spice was open-minded about it. Her grateful smile in return warmed him.

“Were you interested?” Charlie asked her. “Are you?”

“I was, and,” Hermione swallowed hard but continued, “after trying it, I am very interested in continuing to explore it with Percy.”

Again, silence reigned for a moment. Fred was the one who pieced it together. “Does that mean you were with someone else?”

“Here we go again,” Ginny said with a grimace.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fred demanded.

“You’re acting like a jealous arsehole again,” Ginny said flatly.

“I’ve just been told Hermione has fucked someone else, besides all my damn brothers and my sister. I think I’m allowed to be upset about that,” Fred raged, glowering between Hermione and Percy.

“That is not what you were told,” Percy snapped, “because that’s not what happened. It is just what you chose to hear. I let things get out of hand in a scene and someone else participated by being present with us. He did not touch her.”

“He bloody better not,” Fred stated.

“What if I wanted him to?” Hermione asked quietly. George saw his twin’s jaw drop open in shock. “Or some other man? Or woman? Do I not get a say?” He could feel her sadness pulsing through their bond, mixed with complicated feelings of both guilt and indignation. He knew Fred had to be feeling it, too, but he was letting his jealousy rule his tongue again.

“Don’t you have enough of us to satisfy you?” Bill asked.

“I do not zink eet eez about that,” Fleur answered before she had the chance. “Zis eez about freedom.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. “I don’t want— I never wanted any of you to have to give up other relationships for me. I know there are a lot of you and I’m already stretched thin. I don’t want to go out every night adding people to my bed. I can’t imagine wanting another emotional relationship to maintain. But I need,” she took a deep breath and looked at Fleur before looking around the room, finally coming to a stop on Fred, “I need the freedom I’m offering all of you.”

Charlie, with his arm still around her waist, leaned in and whispered something, making her smile. It didn’t take much to reach the conclusion that he had affirmed he would honor her freedom.

“That sounds fair,” George spoke up, feeling like someone needed to say it. There was a sense of betrayal from Fred, but George gave him a look and continued, “You’ve given up so much for us — saved Freddie and I’s lives — and I know you’re happy enough now, but it wasn’t your plan.”

Hermione laughed. “No, I don’t think this is the kind of thing one would think to jot down in a five year plan.”

“And you like your plans,” Harry said, smiling at her.

“I do. But I’m also trying to learn to let go a bit, and Percy is helping me with that,” she answered.

Percy huffed a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.” He smirked at her in a way that made George very curious indeed about their dynamics, but it wasn’t his place to ask.

Charlie was the one who spoke his thoughts. His arm tightened slightly around Hermione’s waist as he asked, “You’re not hurting her, are you?”

 

Opening his mouth to respond, Percy was cut off by Hermione. “He’s not doing anything I don’t want. And there are special words I can say that will make the other person stop immediately if I decide anything is too much.”

Everyone contemplated that for a moment before Charlie asked her, “Does this make you happy?”

“I think so. Figuring out what I like definitely is something I want to do.”

“Then I support you,” he replied simply, tucking a curl behind her ear. George smiled to see how happy it made Hermione.

The only person who really still looked upset was Fred. “So we’re really okay with our wife sleeping with whoever she wants and letting Percy introduce her to Merlin only knows what?”

“Yes,” Bill answered. “I think that is what most of us are saying. It’s the only way to be fair.”

“I’m truly sorry, Fred,” Percy said. “I owe you all an apology for not discussing this beforehand.”

“Hermione owes us one, too,” Ron pointed out.

“Why would you care when you don’t have that kind of relationship with her?” George asked. The last thing they needed was two obstinate brothers digging their heels in. He could already feel that, with his nudging, Fred was coming round.

“What if Skeeter found out? It would be a publicity nightmare for our whole family. How can you be sure this other person won’t go blabbing to her?” Ron asked.

“She can’t bother us anymore,” Bill said. “But another reporter could…” He looked worried as he trailed off, but Percy was shaking his head.

“We were at The Lunar Tower. Part of what you pay for there is their confidentiality. The workers are all magically bound by their contracts. He can’t tell anyone, even if he wanted to.”

Relief softened Ron’s features. “That’s alright then. But confidentiality will be necessary for anyone any of us gets involved with.”

Hermione nodded. “That makes sense. I wouldn’t have any desire to be with anyone willing to sabotage our family.”

“But if Percy’s picking them, how will you know?” Ginny asked.

“I trust that he feels the same way,” Hermione answered, looking over at Percy, who nodded. Next, she looked to Fred. “I’m sorry you’re upset by this. Would you like me to give you some time to think about it before anything else happens? I don’t have anyone I’m interested in or anything. We can take our time—”

“No,” Fred said slowly. “It’s okay. I’ve figured out my jealousy to this point and I can keep working on it. I don’t love the idea, but if exploring this stuff makes you happy, then I want you to do it.”

Hermione pulled away from Charlie to kiss Fred soundly. George heard her whisper, “Thank you,” softly as they parted and Fred smiled at her before returning to his mildly disgruntled look. George knew he would be hearing a rant about all this later, but that would be for the best, let his twin work through it all and then get him to see sense. Hermione never asked for any of this.

“So, if that’s settled, there’s the schedule to discuss,” Bill noted.

“I want some time with Hermione!” several people spoke at once.

“Let’s fill in big events first,” Ron suggested. “What’s happening over the weekend?”

“Tomorrow we’re going shopping!” Ginny announced. There were groans from her brothers, but Fleur looked positively gleeful.

“Why do we have to go shopping?” Ron complained. “I finally get a day away from Millie and you want me to spend it going round the shops?”

“We need furniture for Ember, you numpty,” Ginny replied. The house brightened.

“Her name is Emberhaven,” Percy noted.

“And Ember is a perfectly good nickname when we’re talking about her or directly to her. Don’t you think, Ember?” she called to the house, which responded with clapping from the cabinets and a happy roaring in the fire.

“Emberhaven is a bit more like her full name and what we’ll call out for the floo,” Fred suggested.

“I’ll finish the paperwork for that and get it filed in the morning,” Percy promised.

“Tomorrow is a Saturday and you’re not supposed to work until Monday,” Bill said flatly.

Bristling, Percy replied, “Filing a paper that will benefit our whole family isn’t going to kill me. So shopping — is that in the morning?”

“Oui!” Fleur answered. “Eet should be an early start een case we can’t find things we agree on een ze first few stores and ‘ave to shop longer.”

“I may have to go to work after all,” Ron suggested.

“No way,” Ginny told him. “You already admitted it was your day off. Besides, all of us need to be there.”

“We have our own shop to keep open,” Fred said.

“I’ve already talked to Verity and Lee,” Ginny said with a devious grin. “They’ve got it under control tomorrow.”

Fred glowered at her and George couldn’t help throwing the same look her way, too. Shopping all day for furniture sounded awful.

“Um…” Harry interrupted hesitantly. “Shopping sounds good, but mid-morning we’ll need to pause for a bit.”

“Why?”

“I um…” Harry rubbed his hand through his hair. “Sorry Gin, but I… Kingsley wanted me to agree to another public appearance and he wanted it to be something big and I kind of… told him we could announce we were starting a family.”

“Harry!” Percy snapped before Ginny could even begin to go off on him. “We had a plan about that!”

“And the plan was to announce it before school anyway. This will give it time to die down a little. And Ginny and I are together again now, so I thought it would be good to let everyone know,” Harry said. Everyone looked to Ginny.

Ginny was surprisingly silent, looking like she might explode with anger, but when she finally opened her mouth to speak, she burst into tears instead. Harry’s eyes widened and he jumped up, rushing to her side. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I should have asked first. I can tell him no. I can tell him—”

“You want to tell the world about us!” Ginny wailed happily, throwing her arms around Harry. “Oh, these stupid tears. I can’t do anything without crying anymore, but Merlin, Harry, of course I want to tell everyone!”

George noticed that Bill and Percy had their heads together, undoubtedly determining if this was an opportune time or not, but finally they both nodded and stood back. Bill cleared his throat. “I do think this could be good timing if the two of you both want to announce it now.”

“Yes, we do,” Ginny confirmed, tears still flowing down her cheeks.

“Eet might make shopping difficult,” Fleur said.

“Oh, Merlin, it will be a media circus after that,” Hermione fretted.

Fred grinned. “We can handle a media circus. Georgie and I will take care of distracting everyone while the rest of you disappear into a store or, well, I don’t know where would be easiest.”

“Muggle London,” Hermione suggested. “Muggle furniture can always be enchanted if we need it to do something different.”

“How long do we think shopping will last?” Percy asked.

“All day, of course,” Ginny said, though she still sounded watery.

“Can I have Hermione’s evening?” he asked. “We have a rather important date to keep.”

“You made a date without consulting the schedule?” George asked incredulously.

“Of course I consulted it, prat,” Percy replied. “And nothing was on it yet. This needs to happen.”

“Why? What’s so important about it?” Bill asked.

Percy blushed, which made Hermione turn crimson as well. He said, “We need to discuss our… boundaries, and I have someone else coming along to help keep us on track.”

“What does that mean?” Charlie questioned.

“It means we need someone else there to keep us focused. Our wife is rather distracting, you know,” Percy said, trying again to straighten a tie he wasn’t wearing.

Everyone nodded, looking over to Hermione, who blushed again.

“And my… friend is available tomorrow evening to do this with us,” Percy said. George observed that Hermione didn’t seem overly happy about this, but she didn’t protest either.

“I think it’s been a while since you had a date night with Hermione,” George said, “so as long as this counts as that, I’m good with it.”

Fred was noticeably silent, but George could tell he was still feeling pouty about the previous conversation.

Percy looked notably relieved when no one protested. “Now, how about Sunday?”

“The only thing I know of that’s planned is dinner at the Burrow for all of us, or as many as want to go,” Bill said.

“I would like some time with Hermione during the day,” Charlie said. “If you would like,” he told her.

Hermione smiled at him. “I would like that very much. I want time with all of you, if I can.”

“We would like that, too,” George told her. Harry and Ron nodded vigorously in agreement.

“And we’ll all be seeing you a lot more in passing, anyway,” Ginny noted. “Now that we’re all getting moved in.”

“Are we all?” Percy asked. “I know you and Charlie and I are already here, and Fred and George are kind of half and half.”

“I’ll be here once there’s furniture,” Hermione confirmed. “Until then, I’m just bed hopping.”

“Well, that will be solved tomorrow,” Ginny reminded. “And you’re welcome to join me tonight. We’ll just have to expand the bed a bit.”

“Won’t you be sharing with Harry?” Hermione asked, glancing at her best friend, who definitely looked disappointed.

“Not if I have the option of you,” Ginny replied teasingly. “Or Harry could be there, too. I don’t mind being in the middle.”

Hermione laughed but George noticed that Harry did not, instead looking somewhere between uncomfortable and confused. “I wouldn’t mind joining if we’re just going to sleep,” Harry said when the laughter died down.

“That’s the plan. I’m beat,” Hermione replied almost shyly, blushing. There was definitely something going on there that George was uncertain of. Ginny didn’t seem bothered, though, except maybe a moment of pursing her lips that Hermione planned to just sleep. That was a good thing. An upset Ginny was everyone’s problem.

“Monday will be the Wizengamot’s first day back, so I imagine it will be pretty busy,” Percy said eagerly.

“And by then, I definitely think it’s George and I’s turn to spend the evening with our soulbonded wife,” Fred spoke up. He didn’t seem combative about it, but he definitely wasn’t budging either. Fortunately, everyone agreed that would be for the best.

“Tuesday, we’ll have a Family Meeting before everyone leaves for work and figure out what needs to happen next,” Bill decided.

“Everyone still has their calendar so you can schedule things if you need to?” Percy questioned. No one disagreed, and even Ron was able to produce his.

As the meeting adjourned, Hermione began saying her goodnights to everyone. George impatiently waited his turn. Fred was right that by Monday it would definitely be time for them to be with her again. He was just grateful that, living here together, he would be able to sneak a quick kiss here and there.

And right now, he was in for a long kiss goodnight like everyone else was getting. As the room began to clear out, George smiled when Hermione turned to him. He loved the way she looked with her lips already kiss-swollen, no matter who had gotten them that way. Pulling her close, George whispered, “You look lovely tonight.”

Hermione laughed. “I’m already in my pyjamas, George, don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re lovely no matter what you’re wearing.”

Just as their lips met, Harry suddenly jerked back from his own kiss with Ginny. “Oh Merlin!” he shouted. “I forgot again.”

“What?” Bill and Ron asked together, both on high alert with their wands drawn.

“Oh,” Harry blushed and looked at Hermione guiltily. “I have some um… well, I inherited…”

“What is it, Harry?” Hermione asked. “I’m sure we won’t be mad about anything you inherited.”

Harry gulped and called out, “Norby! Tilly!”

Two cracks sounded and a pair of house elves appeared. George could feel Hermione go stiff. “You inherited house elves?” she asked.

“Um… yes?” Harry offered, shrinking a bit behind Ginny.

To George’s surprise — and clearly everyone else’s too — Hermione’s next question was, “Where have they been all these years?”

“My father inherited a couple of properties. One is a small cottage in Witchborough and—”

“That’s where we’ve been since the Manor burnt down,” Norby interrupted. He didn’t seem too worried about speaking over his Master. “It’s been very lonely and boring keeping to ourselves with no Masters about.”

“Well we could free—” Hermione began, but the younger, obviously female house elf pulled her ears down.

“Please don’t say we have to be freed! I’ve never had the chance to be a proper house elf and I want to learn!” Tilly cried.

“I already offered,” Harry said, looking mildly offended that Hermione had thought he would do otherwise.

“Hermione,” George said slowly, not wanting to upset her. “House elves need their bond to a family for their magic to stay strong. Truly. So perhaps you could negotiate with them for some time to themselves.”

“And let them stay as slaves?” Hermione huffed. “In our home?”

“I could live somewhere else with them,” Harry offered miserably.

“Oh Harry, that’s not what I meant,” Hermione protested.

“Good, because he’s staying right here,” Ginny declared fiercely. “With the baby coming and Teddy here and so many of us in the house, house elves will be useful to all of us—”

“So you think, you all think this is for the best?” She looked around the room and her eyes caught on Charlie’s. To George’s surprise, he nodded slightly as he walked forward.

“George is right, Hermione. I don’t like their servitude any more than you do, but wizards long ago tied their bonds in such a way that house elves really do suffer when they are free.”

“What about Dobby?” she argued.

“Harry’s friend? Whether they acknowledged it or not, there was clearly a bond formed between Dobby and Harry and that’s how his magic was stabilized. Is that right, Norby?” he asked the older elf.

Norby nodded. “There was a third Potter elf for the last few years until just a couple of months ago, though he never came to us.”

“We mourn the loss of his service,” Tilly said solemnly.

“He was a good elf,” Harry said sadly. “A good friend. Will you… would the two of you like to be our friends?”

Norby looked at him and shook his head. “House elves is not friends with their Masters.”

“I’ll be your friend,” Tilly disagreed. “If that’s what Master wants. Anything to help with babies and lots and lots of peoples!” She looked so excited that even Hermione melted a bit.

“We could use help here,” she said slowly. “But the two of you should have time to yourselves as well.”

“Can we’s read with our time, Mistress?” Tilly asked. George was surprised to hear the elf refer to her that way rather than Ginny.

“You read?” Hermione asked, too surprised to say anything else.

“There wasn’t much to do at the cottage,” Tilly answered shyly.

“That’s brilliant!” Hermione responded with a wide smile. “Of course you can read! What kind of books do you like?”

George had lost his opportunity for a long kiss, but he couldn’t be too upset about it when he watched his delighted wife wander off to show the little elf Ember’s library and talk about the books they would soon be bringing.

Notes:

Thank you to:
Centauria for Queen Anne
Ylpebbles for Spice Cupboard (probably my favorite but I didn't think it suited her)
ehlara for Warren and Haven (plus mrspink on Warren and for adding something to Haven)
bondgirltrb for Grange (and mrspink)
Julie (Guest) for Whispering Haven and Harmony Haven
TanzaniteWrites for Holt and CHARM's meaning
moonfairy13 for several of the acronym meanings
and mrspink for Ingleside or Inglehaven, Ember, Seven Flames, September Flames, Zephyrhaven, WD for Weasley Den and several others I didn't put in as well as the brilliantly fun idea of using acronyms.
If I missed thanking anyone, I apologize and thank you, too! I got some fantastic suggestions and it was a lot of fun sorting through all of them. I hope you all enjoyed this segment as much as I did.

I would love to hear what you think of Emberhaven as well as all the other aspects of the chapter!

Chapter 51

Notes:

I am truly sorry this one took so long to complete. I really had trouble writing it, but I hope you all enjoy! Updates may be slower like this from this point forward. I've started writing my first original book, so I'm dividing my time between it and this. And maybe sometimes other fanfics, but mostly this one as it's my favorite by far.

On a different note, I realized recently that I haven't updated the tags since the very beginning, so I'm taking suggestions for things you think should be tagged for the story as a whole. (Though actually, I wish we could tag a chapter at a time.)

Thank you so much to my team. I couldn't do this without you.

The frame of Ginny’s childhood bed groaned under the weight of the three of them combined with the extension charms they had put on it last night. Harry peeked his eyes open as he assessed where he had ended up.

He, Ginny, and Hermione were basically in a pile in the center of the bed. Ginny was still in the middle, but only sort of. Somehow she had wormed her way down so that her head was on his chest. Meanwhile, Hermione, spooned behind Ginny, was still level with Harry’s head, leaning in so that their faces were only inches apart. He could feel her breath on his lips. His hand was woven into her hair, his fingers touching the back of her neck like a caress.

Withholding the sigh of relief he felt that their positions were not more compromising, Harry checked in with himself. He was aware — far too aware — that Ginny had talked Hermione into fooling around last night after they thought he was asleep. She had been reluctant at first, but he could still hear her throaty moans once Ginny had persuaded her. And yes, his body was still responding. His morning wood ached with need.

It certainly didn’t help that Ginny was moving her leg slightly, brushing up and down against his length. Looking down at her, Harry realized by the devious grin on his girlfriend’s face that he wasn’t the only one who was awake, even if she still had her eyes closed.

“Gin…” he whispered as he tried to move back. She clung to him and moved her leg just a little more vigorously. Harry couldn’t suppress his groan.

To his horror, Hermione moaned in response and her head began to move, eyes blinking open sleepily to stare into his. The way his hand was caught in her hair, it seemed very much like he was purposely pulling her toward him. Harry blushed.

“Sorry,” he choked out, trying to untangle his hand so that he could pull away.

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” Ginny said. “You should go with it. Shouldn’t he, Hermione?”

“Go with what?” she asked. Harry tried not to notice how breathy her voice was.

“He needs to get off. And we could help him, don’t you think?” Ginny prompted.

Hermione blinked at him. Slowly, she said, “I think we better let him decide that.”

“But you want to help him, Hermione. I know you do,” the younger girl pushed.

“Can we just… I need to go shower,” Harry said, finally succeeding in pulling his body away from both of them.

“Fine,” Ginny huffed. “If the two of you want to keep dragging this out, I’m going back to sleep.”

“Dragging what out?” Hermione asked, looking bewildered. When Ginny just burrowed under the blanket instead of answering, Hermione asked more pointedly, “Ginny, what are you talking about?”

For a moment, Harry thought Ginny was going to ignore her, but finally, she made a growling noise of frustration and said, “I’m talking about how much the two of you want each other and how much easier this will all be when you both just admit it.”

“When we—” Hermione sputtered, clearly planning to argue.

“I’m with you, Gin,” Harry said, “I don’t need anyone else.”

Ginny growled from under the blanket again before flinging it back. “Fine. You’re just friends and I don’t know what I was thinking. Happy?”

No. He wasn’t. But when Hermione answered, “Yes,” he knew he had to be.

Shaking his head, Harry reminded himself that he was happier this way, too. The ritual broke their bonds for a reason. He needed to be here for his family — for Ginny and their baby. They deserved his love and attention. He nodded to agree with Hermione, then got up from the bed, doing his best to shield the very obvious bulge in his pyjama bottoms from her eyes.

Ginny rolled her eyes but didn’t comment as he practically ran from the room on his way to the loo. He wasn’t sure what she was playing at, but he needed her to stop.

******

Ginny sighed and looked over at Hermione as Harry skittered from the room. The night had gone so well and Harry had been reacting perfectly when he woke. Why did he and Hermione have to be so stubborn?

“I don’t want to come between the two of you,” Hermione stated softly.

“You’re not coming between us,” Ginny insisted. “I want the two of you to figure this out.”

For a long moment, Hermione was quiet. “Then give us time, Ginny. And the option to say no. I don’t know how Harry feels—”

“He wants you as much as you want him,” she replied confidently. Ginny knew Harry. She could see the longing in his eyes and she knew exactly what it meant.

“That’s just it. I don’t know if I do. And even if we’re attracted to each other, I don’t know if I’m interested in making it another relationship,” Hermione said.

Puzzled, Ginny ventured, “But last night you fought for your right to have others.”

“And I’m pleased to have the right, but that doesn’t mean I’m racing out to add more people to our situation,” Hermione explained.

“You wouldn’t exactly be adding Harry. He’s already a part of us.”

“I know. That’s why…” Hermione trailed off for a moment, clearly searching for words. “Harry and I wouldn’t just be for fun. There’s so much between us already. And while part of me wants to explore more with him, a bigger part of me is tired and needs a break. I’m not saying I will never want anything with Harry. But I’m not ready for that right now.”

Now it was Ginny’s turn to pause. She hadn’t really considered how Hermione might feel pulled between too many already, not with the talk at the meeting last night. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I just want you both to be happy. I know Harry loves me, but I also know he’s never really had a chance to be like everyone else.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

Ginny sighed as she got up from the bed and headed for her boxes of clothes. “I mean that Harry’s been fighting his whole life and hasn’t really had time for liking people. I do listen when he talks, you know. I know his Mind Healer says it’s normal for him to be attracted to lots of people all of a sudden.”

Hermione moved from the bed, coming up behind Ginny to hug her. “Gin, he may be attracted to others, but he is choosing to love and be with you.”

“But what about you and your feelings for Harry?” Ginny retorted.

“I don’t know about those feelings, Ginny. We’ve been through a lot together and it may just be an extension of that. You know we spent most of last year in a tent alone together. We had no one but each other and…” Hermione pulled her legs up so that she could rest her forehead against her knees. “Even if it’s more, I just don’t know enough about how I feel and what I want to make any kind of move right now. Our lives are so intertwined. We need to know, for sure, that we’re doing the right thing. If things get awkward between Harry and I, it will affect a lot of people.”

It took a lot of effort not to growl in frustration again, but Ginny restrained herself. Her friend really did look miserable about it.

“Well, let’s not worry about that then,” Ginny said brightly. “Today we go shopping!”

Hermione groaned, but then brightened. “For furniture! It will be so nice to see Ember outfitted and ready for all of us!” The room warmed with a happy glow.

“Yes, of course, but I’m sure there will be time for a little clothes shopping, too,” Ginny said with an evil grin. Hermione returned to groaning. “We should get all my brothers up or they’ll sleep half the day away.”

“We could just wait until after you and Harry make your announcement,” Hermione suggested with a hopeful note in her voice.

Ginny scoffed. “When the reporters are trying to attack us? No, thank you. We need to be done with most of it before then.”

“What will we leave until after?” Hermione wondered aloud.

“Flourish and Blotts,” Ginny responded.

As she had hoped, the lure of the bookstore completely overrode Hermione’s common sense about how they would manage it with the reporters tailing them. And she was now happily gathering clothes from her bag to prepare for the day. Ginny smiled at her wife, walking over and pulling her half-dressed form into a tight hug.

“What’s that for?” Hermione asked. Ginny didn’t answer, just kissed her. Words couldn’t really express the indescribable happiness she felt all of a sudden. For once Ginny didn’t curse her rollercoaster emotions. Maybe things weren’t perfect, but she was surrounded by love and support, and things were getting better every day.

“This is going to be a great day,” she told Hermione when she finally drew back.

Biting her lower lip, Hermione asked, “You’re not nervous about the announcement?”

“Nope,” Ginny said, popping the ‘p’ a bit. “I know it’s a bit of a scandal since we’re not married, but I think people will look past it for the savior of the Wizarding World.”

“You’re probably right,” Hermione said with a smile, though her eyes still looked a little worried. Ginny didn’t care. They would see who was right soon enough.

As soon as they were both dressed and ready, Ginny herded Hermione down to the kitchen where Bill had just arrived with a bag full of bagels. “Don’t worry, Ember,” he reassured the house, “today we’ll work on some updates to use your kitchen.”

The cabinets shook for a moment, then the light warmed. Insulted but pleased, perhaps? Ginny had a hard time interpreting the house’s reactions sometimes. She didn’t feel in tune with Ember the way Charlie and George were. Maybe, with time, she would be.

Breakfast was quickly consumed despite some of her more grumbly siblings. Fred, George, and Ron were definitely not fond of getting up for shopping. Percy either, from his grimace, but at least he was an early riser anyway. Bill and Charlie seemed uncommonly enthusiastic about shopping — and of course Fleur was excited.

Arms wound around her, and Ginny leaned back against Harry’s chest. She turned enough to murmur into his neck, “I’m sorry I tried to push things.”

“It’s okay,” he replied quietly even though Ginny knew it really wasn’t, and still felt guilty for it. But she wasn’t going to let that ruin her mood. She had only been trying to help.

Before she could say anything else, Hermione asked, “Where do we go to buy furniture in the magical world? Or would it be better to shop in the muggle world? They might have more selection—”

“No one ‘as more zan IKEA,” Fleur informed her.

“Well, yes,” Hermione agreed, taken aback. “I wouldn’t have thought you all knew about IKEA.”

Fleur’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “No one told you zey ‘ave a magical division, deed zey?”

“IKEA has a magical division?” Harry asked in astonishment. He seemed even more surprised than Hermione.

“Oui,” Fleur answered, grinning. “Zey weel ‘ave everything we need.”

Hermione looked a little uncertain. “Going to IKEA can be an all day event. My parents love… loved that place. Probably still do.” Fleur reached out and squeezed her hand.

“We’ll just have to spread out,” Percy suggested. “There are enough of us that we should be able to divide and conquer before we have to be back at Diagon.”

“What do we all need to be together to select?” Bill asked.

“Sitting room furniture,” Hermione suggested. “And perhaps things for the library?”

“The library is your domain, draga,” Charlie spoke up. The others nodded in agreement.

“We also should keep in mind that we don’t have to get every piece of furniture today,” Percy said.

“Beel and I could work on ze kitchen and dining furniture. I know what we would like and ‘ave been talking to ze elves about what zey would want,” Fleur suggested. Hermione gave a relieved nod.

“I would be happy to pick out things for the studies and labs, if you trust me to do that for you,” Percy offered, looking to Bill and Hermione, the only other people who would need desks. “Though I’m not sure I’ll find anything suitable for the tower,” he said, frowning toward Hermione.

“I could build a desk for the tower. Or transfigure a desk you choose to curve with the walls,” Charlie said. Percy gave him a nod and a smile, as did Hermione.

“That would be perfect,” their wife gushed. “Either option.”

“We’ll see what I can find,” Percy said.

“I would like to look for outdoor furniture,” Charlie told them.

“And I want to find things for the conservatory,” Ginny put in.

“We’re just—”

“—along for—”

“—the ride,” the twins said.

“Same here,” Ron and Harry agreed.

“You boys can work on some of the simple pieces of furniture — dressers and things,” Hermione said.

“Aren’t those supposed to match the beds and stuff?” Ron asked, scrunching up his nose.

“Well, yes,” Hermione answered, looking puzzled about what the boys could do.

“We do have to get to the shop today,” George said.

“And I could be called in any time,” Ron told her.

“So maybe it’s better if we just help with the sitting room furniture first and then we can go,” Fred suggested.

“And your own bedroom furniture,” Hermione bargained, “unless you’re bringing it all from the flat.”

“No, we thought we would leave some of the furniture there,” George said.

“Who’s paying for all this?” Percy asked. “I’m afraid I used what I had in reserve for purchasing the house.”

“I am,” Bill and Harry said at the same time.

“You can’t do that, Harry,” Bill admonished.

“Why not? It’s my home, too, isn’t it?” For a moment he looked uncertain before barreling on. “And I certainly have the money. I could furnish fifty houses the size of Emberhaven and not make a dent in my vaults.”

Ron narrowed his eyes for a moment, but then shrugged. It was a truth he had to get used to. Ginny was just relieved he didn’t decide to make a fuss about it right now.

“Still, we have money to contribute,” Bill began.

“How about you buy the kitchen and dining things and I’ll buy the rest,” Harry bargained.

“Zat eez fair enough, eef you are sure, ‘Arry,” Fleur said, one hand on Bill’s arm. When it appeared her husband was about to protest again, she smirked at him. “Eef you need to spend more money after zat, I would not say no to some nice jewelry.”

Bill blanched and shook his head. “No, this arrangement sounds fine,” he hastily agreed.

Fleur met Ginny’s eyes, barely hiding her desire to laugh. Hermione grinned, too, and the twins were cackling.

“Maybe we should head out,” Charlie suggested before Bill could get offended. Ginny appreciated how easily he could read their oldest brother and guide him away from a bad mood. She wondered if the full moon might be approaching with how moody Bill had been lately.

As they headed for the floo, Ginny’s head was spinning. She had heard about the IKEA in Corydon, but never been, since Mum and Dad didn’t buy new furniture. With Harry buying, perhaps he would be willing to get furniture for their bedroom.

Was he sharing hers? They had purchased a house with enough rooms for him to have his own, but surely he didn’t really need it now that they were together. They could talk about it at the shop, she supposed.

********

Now that he had some coffee in his system, George was excited about the prospect of shopping. He and Fred had certainly had a good time decorating the flat when they first moved in. Now they had a much bigger space — and budget — to work with.

Of course, they also had the entire family to work with and he knew that wasn’t going to be easy with he and Fred’s… bright tastes. At least they would have their own space to decorate as they wished.

George wasn’t sure how he felt about sharing a room with Fred. They always had, but now that they were adults, he wondered if he should have his own room even if he didn’t sleep in it every night. There were more than enough rooms available. But he also knew that would require a conversation with his twin.

“Freddie, would you mind lending me your ear?”

“I know you’ve only got one, but I can’t just pop one off and give it to you, Twin-O-Mine,” Fred joked.

Grinning, George pulled Fred aside. “Listen… I know we’ll sleep in one room most of the time—”

“Hopefully Hermione’s,” Fred interjected. George couldn’t help but smile as he continued.

“—But I think it would be best if we have separate rooms, too.”

Fred blinked at him. “Why?”

“Just so we each have a space to retreat to if we’re upset or need some quiet,” George explained.

“When have you ever needed quiet?”

“More often than you might think.”

“Did I hear the two of you want quiet?” Ginny barged into the conversation.

“Sometimes,” George told her seriously. He didn’t want to hurt Fred’s feelings, but the incredulous look she and his twin were giving him made this seem even more important.

Thankfully, Fred seemed to read his feelings through their bond and slowly nodded. “If it means that much to you…”

“It does,” he said, relieved that his twin had agreed. “Thanks.”

“Good! Another room to decorate!” Ginny declared gleefully, making George groan.

“This is my room to decorate,” he reminded her.

“Of course,” she agreed far too easily. He knew her better than that.

There was no time to try and convince her to leave it alone, though. Not with everyone suddenly hustling around, preparing to leave. Now that their floo was hooked up, they would be heading straight for IKEA’s magical division. It was so much more convenient than having to fly Ginny into Hogsmeade and floo from there.

Personally, George had heard of IKEA, but had never been. He knew just enough to know it would be a lovely place to wreak havoc. And that they’d better not until the shopping was done — or nearly so, at least. They were all supposed to be on their best behavior.

As they stepped out into the store, George vowed to himself that he would behave — and keep Fred under control — at least through the sitting room shopping. It was important that they get something comfortable and not too drab.

Looking around, he was surprised by what he saw around them. There were all sorts of contraptions in this magical area. Dad would have gone mad for the place. George wasn’t at all sure what any of them were supposed to do, but Hermione and Fleur had their heads together and Hermione was pointing things out. Harry, too, looked delighted.

“What makes the magical division here so special?” Ron asked casually. “I can’t tell what any of this does.”

“A lot of these are much like muggle items, only enhanced with magic,” Hermione explained.

“Isn’t that illegal?” Ginny asked.

“Not if the item is a patented magical invention instead of an enchanted muggle item,” Percy explained knowledgeably as he looked over a magical coffee maker that ground coffee beans, brewed espresso, connected to your milk and water supplies, and then mixed it all into lattes and cappuccinos, as well as self-cleaned and sent the used grounds into the compost bin for you. Of course he would know.

Always one to appreciate a good invention, George got busy looking around. He noticed that Fred was doing the same — and that Percy was trying to keep his eyes on both of them, his lips pressed into a thin line. George grinned to himself.

Bill was the one to speak up and get them all moving, practically dragging Fleur and Hermione away from some kind of cooking device called an instant pot that advertised throwing food in and having it pop right back out fully cooked. They were even working on a model for muggles, though of course it wouldn’t be truly instant. “We all agreed to look at the sitting room furniture first, remember? We can come back to this part,” he assured his wives.

“Where do we find it?” Ron asked, looking around bewildered by everything that was available here.

“They’re this way,” Charlie said confidently.

“What, can you smell them or something?” Ron snarked.

Charlie laughed before explaining. “There’s a map on the wall.”

“Oh,” Ron said sheepishly, ignoring the way Ginny was laughing at him.

As they wandered through the store along something resembling a path, they began to see pre-made rooms, set out to look like real sitting rooms, kitchens, and bedrooms. The problem George could see was that all the sofas were too small for their family. An employee started to walk by and George stopped him.

“Do you have any large sofas?”

“Well, these fit four people and are considered—”

“Something for more,” George pressed “for all of us.” He gestured around at the crowd of Weasleys, watching as the worker’s brows shot up under his hair.

“Well nothing big enough for all of you, but I can show you to the biggest sofa we have. Maybe, if your space is huge, two of them would fit you all?” He didn’t sound very certain of that as he led them along. Finally, they came to the largest “room” yet, this one with a properly enormous sofa.

“This is the KIVIK 6 seater with a corner and chaise,” the man began.

“We’ll take two of them,” Harry said.

Hermione looked flabbergasted. “We haven’t even measured it. What if it won’t fit?”

“I measured it,” Percy protested.

Amused, George cut in, “The sitting room is huge, love, but even if it weren’t, I’m sure we could make it fit.” He watched in satisfaction as Hermione’s jaw dropped, realizing that of course they could use magic.

“Based on the actual size of the room, this one will fit just fine,” Percy reassured.

“Shouldn’t we look at some others first?” Fred asked doubtfully.

“Well this is the largest we have—” the salesman said.

“It’s just such a drab color,” Fred explained.

“Oh!” A wide grin spread across the worker’s face. “We can get you one in any of our colors.”

“Or the magical side could probably make it any color you can think of,” George muttered to Ginny who was standing nearby.

As the salesman brought out fabric swatches, everyone began arguing over the perfect color and how it would match the rest of the room.

“Maybe we should get one grey and one teal sofa,” Harry suggested after the argument had gone on entirely too long.

“I believe zat color scheme could work, but two of zese sofas eez too much. Per’aps a sofa and two loveseats? Or a loveseat and some chairs?”

The worker was only too happy to show them the loveseats and chairs available as they went from room to room.

Catching his twin’s eye, George picked up a vase from one room and moved it into another, watching as Fred’s eyes lit up and he picked up a small plant from the new room and took it to the first one. They were both practically giddy with delight as they began rearranging small things from all of the carefully made up rooms.

When they came to a room with a rather odd shaped bowl sitting decoratively on an end table, Fred added a new game — finding the best non-hat headwear. Of course, that game only lasted a few minutes before Fleur grabbed them by their ears — making sure to grab George’s right — and dragged them over, and made them put the display pieces down.

“You are not cheeldren. Act like eet!” she admonished them as the salesman looked relieved. Fortunately, neither he nor Fleur had noticed the switching game, so they continued that one — though more carefully than before.

Though the women were still selecting end tables and ottomans, as far as George was concerned, he and Fred were done with what they had to do. Without thought, he switched a small trinket from one room into the next and tossed a photo frame with a creepy obviously-fake wedding photo to Fred who put it in the room they had come from.

George slipped his hands into his pockets, exchanged a look with Fred, and said, “If that’s all we needed to do, I think it’s time for Freddie and I to get to the shop.”

“Maybe I should go with them,” Ron suggested.

The three women looked up at them, blinking in surprise. “Go?” Fleur asked.

“Already?” Ginny added.

Realizing it might be harder to get away than he had hoped, George said, “It’s only a couple of hours until your announcement. We wanted to be there to support you, but we have to put in some time at the shop first.”

“Otherwise we might have to miss it,” Fred said, making a show of how sad that would be.

Hermione was shaking her head at them, but there was a smile threatening at the corners of her mouth. “Go on, then, if you don’t need bedroom furniture.”

“We’ll come back on a day when we have more time. We’re bringing over essentials from the flat for now,” Fred said.

“What wasn’t stolen from us,” George noted.

Ginny grinned unrepentantly. “Get out of here before I decide to take more instead of buying new.”

They got out.

*********

Bill was relieved to be done shopping — for now — when they finally left IKEA, but anxious about the press conference. He could tell Harry felt the same, though he was trying to remain positive and confident for Ginny.

For her part, his sister looked like she didn’t have a care in the world. She was smiling and touching her belly, though she still wasn’t showing enough to look pregnant at all.

Kingsley was the only other person who didn’t look at all nervous. He was confident as he shook Harry’s hand. Bill had noticed the heated look the man had given Percy when they all convened in the office, but nothing else had happened. There were several Aurors in the room with them, who Bill assumed didn’t know about Kingsley and Percy.

Percy was racing around with a clipboard, trying to get everything ready. He herded the rest of the family off to the side. “You lot stay to the side, out of the way, even when we’re on display to everyone. Especially when we’re on display to everyone. Only Bill, Harry, and Ginny should be saying anything.”

“And me,” Kingsley said, grinning at him.

“Yes, I suppose you, too,” Percy answered flippantly, a faint blush down his neck. Apparently, this counted as flirting between the two of them, Bill surmised.

He was surprised when Percy next turned to him and asked, “Do you need the speech I prepared for you or do you have a plan of what to say?”

Bill knew it was silly to be offended — that was Percy’s job, after all — but he still was. “I’ve considered a few different ways to say things, but I’m pretty sure I have it under control.”

“Maybe just take a look at my phrasing?” Percy suggested, pushing the parchment into Bill’s hands. He sighed and nodded. There was no point in starting a fight about it, especially when Percy was obviously so anxious.

As Bill skimmed the words, he found himself nodding along. Percy really could write a beautiful speech, and he would use bits and pieces of it. He was just deciding what to include when Percy cast a Tempus and said, “It’s time to go.”

Everyone followed Kingsley in an orderly fashion. The twins were going to meet them out there. Ron, though he had tried multiple ways of getting out of the shopping trip, was still with the family.

It had been announced earlier in the day that Kingsley had a couple of special announcements, specifically about the war heroes, Harry Potter and the Weasley family. By the time they made it down to the Ministry atrium, even though it was a Saturday, the room was bursting with people. The Aurors had to clear a pathway for them, barely holding the people back.

Bill knew it was often like this for the “Golden Trio,” but he had rarely experienced it himself. It was a frightening, overwhelming experience, yet everyone did well with it. When they were finally raised above the crowd so that everyone could see them, Kingsley stepped forward.

“Welcome everyone!” his deep voice boomed out without the need for a Sonorous. “We have a couple of announcements for you today, both of them pertaining to some of our favorite war heroes.”

The people cheered, then leaned in as if they might miss something. Even the reporters were quiet, waiting for the first announcement. Personally, Bill was waiting for the second announcement, since he hadn’t known there would be two. Based on Percy’s pinched lips, he hadn’t known either. His brother didn’t like surprises.

“It is my pleasure and great privilege to announce that The Chosen One has chosen to begin the next generation of Potters,” Kingsley said with a flourish as Harry tried to hold in his groan. Bill nearly laughed, and he noticed that Ron and the twins — who had joined them at some point — were sniggering.

The crowd went wild at this information, not paying a bit of attention to what was going on with the family. They could be grateful for that, as Ginny was glaring at her brothers and looked ready to hex them. Fleur and Hermione were whispering in her ears, probably calming her down.

If the crowd was going wild, it was nothing compared to the reporters, who were practically rabid. “Did you marry in secret, Mr Potter?” “Who is the mother, Harry?” “Tell us, will you name the baby after your parents?” “Who is the mother?” “When is baby Potter due?” “Who is the mother?”

As Bill stepped to the middle of the podium, casting a Sonorous. A hush fell over most of the crowd, though he could hear grumbles of confusion, and then, slowly, an uptick of sound that seemed to mean people were putting two and two together, with the Head of House Weasley entering the conversation.

Before the reporters could start shouting new questions, he spoke. “Harry and my sister Ginevra have decided to have a baby together. Before you ask, no the two of them are not married. They—”

“When is the wedding?” a reporter shouted.

“Shall we really believe they ‘decided’ to have a baby out of wedlock? Sounds like childish fooling about to me!” someone said loudly.

“As I was saying,” Bill stated loudly, “They did things out of order and, of course, that wouldn’t have been my preference, but they have the blessing of House Weasley.”

“Are they going to live together and raise the baby?” yelled a reporter in a green hat.

“Harry lives with our family. Any further information on that subject is private,” Bill stated. “We wanted the public to know that they are both under the protection of House Weasley, as their child will be.”

“Why aren’t they under the protection of House Potter?” someone shouted, not even a reporter.

Bill couldn’t keep from glaring at the person. “There are a few more Weasleys around to do the protecting. Not to mention that we consider Harry one of our own.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Harry said as he stepped forward, “This child will be under the protection of both House Potter and House Weasley.”

A huge cheer went up, though Bill wasn’t sure if it was because of what Harry said or just the fact that he was speaking. Everyone settled down as he spoke again. “Thank you all for sharing our excitement. I know Ginny and I are young, but we’re looking forward to starting our family.”

“Have you asked her to marry you?” the green hatted reporter shouted. Harry ignored him, turning to hold a hand out to Ginny instead.

She gave him a dazzling smile as she stepped up beside him. Her voice carried as she said, “I have loved Harry for what seems like my whole life, and nothing has ever made me happier than knowing that I’m carrying his baby.”

There were lots of “oohs” and “ahs” from the crowd and, surprisingly, no one asked any more impertinent questions at that moment. Everyone seemed like they were waiting for something as Harry and Ginny stood there together. Bill suddenly felt nervous that Harry might have a secret plan to do something reckless — ask Ginny to marry him right there, or who knew what else — but the moment passed as Kingsley stepped forward again, placing a hand on Harry and Ginny’s shoulders.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I know it will be hard to top that announcement, so I won’t try to, but I would like to announce that I have chosen my Senior Underminister, a position that hasn’t been filled since I was elected five weeks ago.”

There were gasps and the crowd began muttering, the reporters rapid-firing questions on top of each other that it was impossible to even decipher them. Kingsley held up his hands.

“It should surprise no one to know that the man I turn to for everything, the one who knows so much about how this government runs, and should run, and keeps track of every detail, the man who saved my life five days ago, Percy Weasley, deserves this position of service and honor. Should I become unable to perform my duties as minister before the next election, I will leave the Ministry of Magic in Percy’s very capable hands.”

Percy was gaping at Kingsley, his mouth hanging open in shock. Kingsley’s lips twitched with amusement as he turned back to Percy and quietly said, “Are you going to stand there like a fish or get up here and thank me?”

Moving robotically at first, Percy stepped forward with a little push from Fleur. By the time he reached the front of the podium, Bill noticed he was moving smoothly, a wide smile on his face. He wasn’t sure, but it almost looked like his brother was close to tears as he said, “Thank you, Minister Shacklebolt. This is…” he swallowed hard, “it’s a true honor. I will do everything in my power to serve the Ministry of Magic and, even moreso, the witches and wizards it represents. Thank you, all of you, and thank you, Minister.”

He was clearly too flustered to say more, but that was okay. Kingsley smirked and then launched into a speech that somehow made it seem like they had already planned things together, before Percy even accepted the position. Of course, that was because they had. Bill reflected that this was really just a formality. Percy had already been second in command, but now it was official. He couldn’t be happier — or prouder — of his brother.

*********

Ron grumbled as he followed along out of a store called Maternity Witch — one he’d never known existed before — like the last dozen shops they had been in. The family now had everything a newly pregnant Mum could possibly need for a baby.

While the big items were being sent directly to the house, somehow he had gotten stuck with all the bags that couldn’t be shrunken down. Well, not just him. Harry and Charlie were laden with bags as well. Somehow, Bill had begged off for the day, and Percy, Fred, and George had all needed to work.

Charlie was taking the whole thing entirely too well, smiling and offering opinions for all three of the women as they tried on and twirled around in this and that. It was disgusting.

Groaning as Fleur squealed at the sign of yet another dress robe shop and began hauling everyone inside — much to Hermione’s dismay as well — Ron trudged in only to stop in his tracks at the sight before him.

Up on the seamstress’s podium stood Millie, in a stunning orange robe that made her look, well… “Bugger, Millie, you look beautiful,” Ron gasped in surprise.

She whipped around, shock on her features. “Ron?”

As the reality of what he said caught up with him, Ron closed his mouth and mumbled, “Well, you do. Look like a girl and everything.”

Millie’s eyes, which had been going just a little soft, narrowed. “Are you implying I don’t usually look like a girl?”

“He said something similar to me once,” Hermione cut in, trying to rescue him, “I didn’t speak to him for days.” Or maybe she was trying to make it worse, Ron thought.

“If only that were an option,” Millie seethed. He was in for it now. She scowled at him, but sweetly said, “I may not look as much like a girl as you did in your lacy Yule ball gown, but we ladies do like to try and look our best.”

Ron saw red. “That was not a ball gown!”

“Could have fooled me!” Millie snapped, smiling because she was getting to him.

“Well you look like a pumpkin with that on,” he replied.

Before she could retort, the proprietor came charging at him. “You will not come in here and insult my clients! Out!”

His sister, wife, and sister-in-law all gave him dirty looks as Ron trudged out of the shop, muttering about how unfair it all was. He noticed that neither Charlie nor even Harry followed him out. But that was fine. He would rather be out here than in another stupid dress shop anyway.

Slipping into the shadows of the alley next to the shop, Ron leaned against the side of the building and tried to cool his temper. To calm down, he did an exercise they had learned in training, observing the things around him.

Five things you see. The maternity store they had just come out of. That just made him more irritated. A woman with sharp eyes glaring at him — no, at the shop behind him. The man next to her, in traditionalist robes. A darkly dressed man he would have expected to see in Knockturn Alley rather than here. Others in traditionalist robes moving closer. The movement of a wand popping out of someone’s sleeve.

Four things you hear. Angry mutterings. Closer, a conversation.

“No respect for her family, for their sacrifices…” One.

“We can get Saint Potter and his nasty girlfriend, too.” Two.

“Did you hear they’re pregnant?” Three.

“Better to get rid of them now.” Four.

Ron didn’t need to calm down anymore. He needed backup. Sending a quick Patronus for help, he assessed the situation. They were coming closer. There wasn’t going to be time to wait.

To his relief, just as the first witch raised her wand and shattered the shop’s window, as he was spinning out of the alley to take on the crowd, there were pops of apparition — an Auror team appearing to help. Good, he didn’t need another dressing down for going into action alone.

Everything happened very quickly then, stunners and Incarcerous spells flying at the crowd from himself, the other Aurors, and even from Millie and his family inside the shop. Soon, everyone who had been approaching was unconscious and trussed up so that they wouldn’t be able to move.

A lanky older man approached, Auror Donaldson. It appeared he was in charge of this team.

“What did you see?” he asked Ron. “Your message left a little to be desired.”

“I was busy trying to watch them and maintain my cover in the alley,” Ron defended, but went on to explain what he had observed.

“You did good calling for backup,” Auror Donaldson told him.

“Thank you, sir. I just wanted to be sure my family and my partner were all protected.”

“I’m surprised you’re all out alone. You know the Minister’s agreement still applies for the Golden Trio, even with you being a trainee. You could have asked for an escort.”

Ron felt his cheeks grow hot. “I know, and we should have thought of it for Harry, Ginny, and Hermione, but that still would have left Millie vulnerable.”

“I am not some damsel in distress for you to call vulnerable,” Millie huffed, joining the conversation, now wearing denims and a tank top. It was a drastic difference from the gorgeous woman he had seen trying on that dress but appealing in a way he couldn’t quite shake.

“I’m not saying you are—” Ron started, but she cut him off.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Against that crowd, I’m afraid you probably couldn’t,” Auror Donaldson said. “I’ve heard you’re good with your wand, but even a seasoned Auror would struggle with that many.”

By now, the rest of the team had popped away with the perpetrators in tow. Ron shook his head.

“How could they think they would get away with attacking like that in broad daylight?”

“Hopefully they were just being so handsomely rewarded that they thought the risk was worth it,” the Auror said. “If they were personally motivated and felt safe enough to attack like this, then we have a much bigger problem.”

“As in, there could be some kind of dark underground group?” Ron asked. “Maybe beyond the Death Eaters that are still loose?”

“Most likely any group like this would be in league with the Death Eaters, though it’s hard to tell. We may have won the day against Voldemort, but there is a faction — bigger than we would like — who are unhappy about it. But this isn’t the place to talk about such things. Come in as soon as you can, Trainee Weasley, to give your report. You, too, Bulstrode.”

Fleur, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Charlie approached as Auror Donaldson disapparated.

“Per’aps we should go ‘ome now,” Fleur said.

“Oh, we haven’t been to Flourish and Blotts yet!” Hermione mourned. “But yes, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

“Good. I’ll see you all home and then go in to make my report.”

As they were preparing to leave, Millie caught his sleeve. “Thank you, Ron. They would have surprised me if you hadn’t been there.”

“Anyone would have done it.”

“I know, but I appreciate it anyway,” she said, her chin raised and jaw clenched.

“You should probably apparate to the Ministry to give your report now,” he suggested.

She looked angry at that, but nodded. “After I buy that dress.”

“Do you want me to wait—”

“I’m not a damsel. And I’ll just be here a minute more,” she insisted as she went back inside.

Gritting his teeth as he watched her, Ron shook his head at her stubbornness. Since his family had, by this point, gone a few doors down to use a floo, he stepped back into the alley to wait. Thankfully, Millie really was back out in only a few minutes.

When she disapparated from the street in front of the shop without further incident, Ron breathed a sigh of relief. Then he apparated back to Emberhaven. He would give his report after he checked in with everyone.

********

Hermione looked around her room, bewildered that, despite the day’s insane shopping spree, everything was already put away. Her furniture was perfectly arranged as she had wanted it — though even the magical division of IKEA had never created a bed so large before — and all of the clothes she had been forced to buy were waiting in her enormous closet, placed with a simple snap of Tilly’s fingers.

Now Hermione just had to pick something to wear out with Percy tonight. What the bloody hell did one wear to a BDSM negotiation? She wondered if Fleur or Ginny would have suggestions, and if she could endure the embarrassment of asking. Then again, it wasn’t like they didn’t know what was going on between her and Percy, now that it had been discussed at the family meeting.

Her feeling of irritation was almost overwhelming when she heard a soft voice behind her. “Don’t let ze anxiety get to you, ‘Ermione.”

Whipping around, she said reflexively, “I’m not anxious.”

“You are practically shaking with eet,” Fleur noted, one hand on Hermione’s arm. “You are safe with Percy, yes?”

“Absolutely,” Hermione replied with certainty.

“Zen what are you worried about?”

“I have an idea of what to expect after reading some books, and I know what happened between Percy and I before, but I don’t know what it will really be like tonight. He’s so determined that this has to be one certain way, and I don’t know if that way is what I want,” she said, looking at another dress and rejecting it.

Fleur stepped up beside her, pulling out a little blue number with sparkles all over it so that it looked like the night sky. As she handed it to Hermione, she said, “So tell ‘im you want eet your way. Those ‘oo don’t understand ze lifestyle, zey think eet eez all about one person putting ‘is will and needs above and beyond those of ‘is submissive. Zey are wrong. Ze ones zat know about the lifestyle, zey know ze power belongs to ze submissive. Ze dominant holds it for zem, but only for as long as ze submissive allows it. Make Percy prove eet.”

*********

Percy paced nervously at the bottom of the stairs.

“You know she won’t come down any faster if you pace harder?” Charlie observed. He was lounging on the new sofa, watching as Percy worried.

“What if she changes her mind about going tonight? I’ve got it all arranged—”

“And it’s all up to her, right?” Charlie said, leaning forward. “That’s how it’s supposed to work?”

“Yes.” Percy stood still, dread filling his stomach.

“So if she decides she doesn’t want to, you have your answer to whatever you’ve arranged.” He let Percy sweat for a moment, turning over that idea, before continuing, “But I think you’re forgetting that she enjoyed what happened before, enough that she faced the entire family and fought for her right to keep doing it.”

Blinking, Percy looked at his brother. He hadn’t expected Charlie to be so charitable, trying to calm him like this. When he couldn’t find the right words to express his appreciation, Charlie went on. “She’s just picking clothes. I bet she wants to look perfect for you.”

Percy resumed his pacing. “If we had done our negotiations that night like we were supposed to, I could have chosen her clothes tonight so she wouldn’t need to worry about them.”

“Then you won’t have to wait as long next time.”

Their eyes were drawn to the stairs at the sound of a footstep above. Both men’s jaws dropped at the sight of Hermione in a short, blue dress, sparkles dancing over it. She wore jewelry, and her hair was half up, with the rest in soft, flowing curls. She looked amazing.

Percy knew he was a very lucky man tonight. If he just didn’t mess it up again. And if his body could stay healthy enough to see him through the night, though he set that thought aside even as his breath felt tight and his heart rate spiked. He would be fine.

As Hermione descended the stairs, he stepped forward to offer his arm. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” she told him confidently, more self-assured than he had expected. With a surprised nod and a momentary glance at Charlie to say goodbye, Percy spun them away.

The two of them landed in the designated apparition point inside the lobby of his favorite sex club. Everything here was luxurious, from the black and white marble floor to the deep red velvet covering the walls.

“What is this place?” Hermione asked.

“It’s a sex club. Miss Penny’s to be exact. And… mine. I’m a partner in it. But I would rather no one knew that for now. Especially with my new position at the Ministry,” he rushed to say. Merlin, he was more nervous than he had wanted to be.

“You’re an owner here?” she repeated.

“It seemed a good investment at the time. And has proven lucrative. Plus, it has always given me a place to explore my interests.”

Blushing, Hermione said, “I think it will be a good place to explore mine, too. Once I understand how everything works.” She paused, then turned to look him in the eyes. “Why didn’t you bring me here last time?”

“I wanted to wine and dine you before jumping into this kind of thing. We just got… I got caught up in things. I’m—”

“If you apologize again, I’m leaving,” she declared.

Closing his mouth on the words, Percy nodded sharply and began leading her toward the entrance.

“Master Weasley,” greeted a beautiful woman at the door. She was in a skin tight silver dress that left nothing to the imagination. He didn’t need his imagination, of course, since he had played with her a time or two, but he wasn’t interested tonight. She didn’t hold a candle to Hermione. “Can I get you anything at all?”

“We have a meeting with Miss Penny.”

The woman pouted slightly. “Of course. She’s waiting for you in her office.”

Beside him, he felt Hermione go rigid. She didn’t say anything as they started toward the office, but Percy knew he’d better find out what was wrong. “Hermione? Are you okay?” he whispered.

“I would say we should talk about it in the office where we can be alone, but we won’t be alone, will we?”

“No,” he said, puzzled. “Miss Penny is going to be with us to ensure that I behave.”

Hermione pursed her lips and leaned forward to open the office door before he could get it for her, shaking him from her arm. Percy could see sparks jumping from the ends of her hair as though she were furious. This did not bode well for the evening.

She charged into the office, immediately pinning Miss Penny with her stare. Looking between Percy and Miss Penny, she asked, “Tell me, Percy, why do we have someone else here without my consent when you’ve supposedly apologized for involving someone else last time?”

“Well, I… Miss Penny isn’t here to join us, just to keep us on track for the negotiations.”

“But you didn’t think you should consult me about it? Hear whether I thought she should be involved?” Hermione pressed.

“She has a point,” Miss Penny had the gall to say, smiling slightly. That smile never meant good things for Percy. “Perhaps you will need to be punished, Percival.”

“Yes, mistress,” he answered through gritted teeth, moving to drop to his knees.

Hermione made an enraged sound and stomped over, her heels nearly silent as they sank into the plush carpet of the office. Her hand yanked on his upper arm, trying to pull him up, and Percy wasn’t sure what to do, caught between the two most important women in his life.

“If this night is supposed to be about us, and about you dominating me, I will not have you playing submissive to someone else. That is not how this is going to go,” Hermione stated clearly.

“Are you sure she’s the submissive?” Miss Penny asked, laughing.

“I’m very sure,” Percy answered, even as he allowed himself to be hauled up. He already knew he was somehow failing Hermione again, but he didn’t see how to fix it.

“Then act like it,” Miss Penny demanded.

“But we haven’t negotiated yet,” he protested.

“I didn’t say to punish her. I said to act like the Dominant I know you are. She’s absolutely right that I shouldn’t be here, especially if you didn’t discuss it with her first,” Miss Penny told him, lounging back in the desk chair. She wasn’t laughing, but he could tell from the way her eyes were dancing that she wanted to.

Drawing himself to his full height, Percy tried to recover by turning to Hermione and saying, “I should have asked if it was okay to have someone here.” He did not dare apologize more than that. He didn’t want Hermione to leave.

“Yes, you should have,” Hermione agreed.

With a quirk of his lips that Percy couldn’t help, he added, “But you did say you enjoyed another person and that you liked the aspect of letting me decide when and if that was going to happen.”

Hermione blinked at him, then narrowed her eyes. “But you said that wasn’t appropriate until we had negotiated our boundaries.”

Percy found himself laughing despite how nervous he had been, finally starting to slip into his role. “You are right,” he agreed, despite the amusement in his tone. Not leaving time for any more arguments, he asked, “Did you bring your list?”

“I did,” Hermione huffed. “Are you not going to send her away?”

“It’s Miss Penny’s office, technically, so she comes and goes as she pleases.”

“And oh, do I ever come here,” she snarked with a smile. “But I suppose, if you finally have this in hand, I have things to attend to on the public floor.”

“I don’t know,” Percy began, that nervousness slipping in again.

“Well I do,” Miss Penny said sharply. “You know exactly how to do this, and Hermione can stand up for herself.” Turning to Hermione, she said, “If he tries anything before you get to the end of that list, please feel free to use any of my spanking implements to show him a lesson. He particularly dislikes the cane, though it’s got a bit of a learning curve for the wielder to make the most of it.”

Mouth open in shock, Hermione didn’t say a word as Miss Penny left the room. Once she was gone, however, Hermione seemed to recover. “Which one is the cane?”

Percy walked over and pointed to it on the wall. “We can go over all the various toys and implements as we go through the list.” His voice shook slightly as he said it. He really did hate that thing.

Nodding thoughtfully, Hermione asked, “So how do we do this?”

“Typically, I would have my submissive come sit in my lap while we go over her list.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to add a ‘but’ to that?”

“Because I am. You’re better off where I can’t touch you until we get through this.”

“What if I don’t want to be better off?” Hermione asked, a clear dare in her eyes as she stared straight into Percy’s eyes.

Instead of answering, Percy asked, “Do you submit to being with me this evening? To being mine in every way I wish?”

She sucked in a breath, clearly surprised by the purr in his voice. “Yes,” she answered automatically.

Percy grinned. “Good. Then you don’t need to worry about what you want. I will be seeing to your needs instead. And my wants.”

“What about the list?” she asked.

“That’s where your needs come in.” He conjured a chair beside the desk chair. “Sit.”

She did as he asked at the same time he sat down in the seat Miss Penny had vacated. Pulling her list to himself, Percy began to go over it.

******

Hermione calmed down slowly as Percy went line by line through the list. At some things he smirked and said, “I knew that one.” Others he was clearly surprised by. Still others warranted a few questions, especially for the things she had marked as “maybes.” He read aloud each item of the list, confirmed her preference, and explained the few items she had questions about. The whole thing felt relaxed, like a discussion between equals instead of him imposing his will on her, as she had feared. They had also discussed the limits of their dynamics, as she had been confused about them the last night they had together.

Percy had explained how they would make sure to have a clear start and end to each scene, where their behaviors would be tailored to the play they were engaged in. This way, she wouldn’t have to worry about using his name instead of sir, and be free to interact without fear of punishment out of context.

His arm brushed hers, skin on skin where he had his shirtsleeves rolled up. “What about this one?” Percy asked.

“Bondage?”

“What makes it a maybe?”

She bit her lower lip, wondering if she should have marked it as a solid no. “I like the idea of it, and I know the idea used to turn me on, but I’m afraid it may be too close to being captured, that I might have a panic attack.”

Percy turned to face her, reaching out to twist one of her curls on his finger. “I hope you know I will always stop and take care of you if I see the slightest sign that you’re panicking. In or out of a scene. And I hope, before it gets to that point in a scene, you would be able to use our stoplight system. Unless you would prefer a different safeword?”

“No, I like that system,” Hermione assured him. “And I feel safer knowing you will always take care of me.”

Percy pursed his lips. “You didn’t think I would?”

“I wasn’t sure if that would mess up a scene and make you upset with me,” she admitted. Now that it was just the two of them, she felt small and girlish around him again, barely even the same person as the woman who had stood up to him and thrown Miss Penny out of her own office.

“It would upset me if you didn’t safeword when you needed to.”

“Oh,” she responded, feeling uncertain.

“Even if I were upset about something you did — which would not be for safewording, ever — we would talk it through and be okay in the end. Hermione, I want you to know that nothing you could ever do would make me hate you. We’ll both be upset with each other sometimes, and that’s okay, too.”

“Logically, I know that, but I can’t help but feel like I’m not good enough—”

“Then I’ll have to keep telling you what a good girl you are,” Percy suggested. “We’ll put that praise kink to good use.”

Leaning over, he took her by the chin and looked into her eyes. “Hermione, you are good enough for anyone, you are far better than most. You don’t ever have to feel like you’re somehow less than.”

“But the women here in this club — they know so much more about this lifestyle than I do,” she pointed out.

“They do, but each of them were new once, too. I get to train you exactly how I want you, and how you want to be. And I can tell you that our lists match up very nicely. And for things you aren’t sure about, things like bondage, we’ll wait until the day comes when you’re ready for it,” Percy explained.

“Do you decide I’m ready or do I?” Hermione asked. She wasn’t going to back down completely.

For a long moment, Percy seemed to be debating internally. “In some situations, I might push you, but I will check in diligently and you are always always able to safeword without fear of my reaction.”

“What if I wanted to try bondage tonight?” she asked, trying to look braver than she felt.

“I would say no,” Percy told her.

Feeling offended, Hermione pulled away from him. “Why wouldn’t you—”

“Because I am in control, and that isn’t what I plan to do with you tonight.”

“What do you plan to do?” She felt a thrill of excitement as she asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said cryptically. “The last thing we have to discuss is aftercare.”

Hermione was so distracted wondering what he had in store for her that she could barely focus, but she appreciated the level of detail he went into describing how he would take care of her in various situations and in case she needed to safeword.

When he finally finished explaining, and had answered what few questions she managed to think of, she asked, “Can we get started now?”

“So eager when you don’t even know what’s going to happen to you.”

A shiver went down Hermione’s spine and her eyes went to the floor, color rushing up her cheeks. “Yes,” she agreed.

He rubbed his hands together almost gleefully before offering her one. “Before I get you into position, I want to show you the array of toys we could choose from.”

“Including the cane,” she said, poking at him just a bit.

Percy gave her a harsh look and said, “You will pay for that, little girl. I expect you to be my good girl tonight, not a brat.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered.

“There she is,” he said with a smile as he pulled her close and leaned down to kiss her. Hermione tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away from her just as quickly, leaving her wanting more, as he described each item displayed in the office, and the differences in how they would feel.

She considered suggesting he show her how they each felt, but she didn’t want to be a brat again, so she let him lead things. But everything he showed her was making her body tingle more, her knickers becoming a little wetter.

“Why are you fidgeting so much?” Percy asked her, one hand still on a wooden paddle with holes in it.

Blushing as she spoke, Hermione explained, “My knickers are wet and a little uncomfortable.”

“Which is one of several reasons you shouldn’t be wearing any. The first reason is that, from this point on, it is one of my rules. When you and I are going out together, scening or not, you will wear no knickers, no bras.”

She gasped, “Even in a dress this short?”

“Especially in a dress this short,” he said with a grin. “Do you want to know why?”

She couldn’t even pretend to debate. “Yes.”

“So I can play with you anytime I want. Or put you on my lap and slip my cock into your wet pussy whenever I want. Take them off.”

Her heart beat faster as Hermione rushed to pull her knickers down her legs and step out of them. “What should I—”

“Leave them there. They’ll be a nice souvenir for Miss Penny when she returns.”

Cheeks heating yet again, Hermione left the knickers where they were. “I can’t take the bra off without taking off the dress.”

Percy grinned. “That’s fine.”

“I can leave it on?”

“No, you can take off the top half of the dress. Let me unzip you to the waist. That should allow the bra to come off.”

Slipping her arms out of the straps for the dress, Hermione could already feel her nipples hardening as he unhooked her bra and she let it fall to the ground. She started to pull the dress back up, but Percy put a firm hand on her arm. “No. Now come with me.”

He led her back over to the desk chair, sitting down and unbuckling his trousers. “On your knees, little girl.”

Hermione’s eyes were wide as she followed his command, watching him pull out his cock as she obeyed. She had forgotten just how large Percy was. He stroked himself a couple of times before beckoning her forward. “You’re going to suck me until I’m nice and hard and ready for you. Then I’m going to show you how you’ll sit on my lap, how pretty you’ll look bouncing on my cock. And how lovely you‘ll be when you come.”

“How—”

She wasn’t able to say anything else as he pushed himself into her mouth. As she began to suck, Percy said, “If it is too much, tap my thigh three times. I’ll pull out.”

Just as she made an affirmative noise around his cock, he pushed deeper into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat and making Hermione gag around him. “Relax your throat,” he soothed, petting the back of her head. She tried, but it was still a struggle to fit him in.

She was relieved when he pulled out, saying, “That’s enough. Come up on my lap, with your back to me.”

Doing as she was told, Hermione was just catching her breath when he spun the chair to face the wall behind the desk. For a moment, she was confused, until it shimmered with magic and suddenly instead of a regular wall, she was staring into a mirror. One where she could see her entire body on display, her breasts out and skirt barely covering her exposed privates the way it was riding up.

“Spread your legs wider,” Percy commanded.

“If I do that, we’ll be able to see everything.”

“Exactly,” he said, smiling that sinisterly sexy smile that made her wetter.

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered, then did as he had asked. Her skirt rode up almost to her waist, exposing her pussy. Percy picked her up with one arm, adjusting himself until his cock was jutting out lewdly between her pussy lips, making it look like she had a cock.

“Do you like the way this looks?” he asked.

“No,” she admitted.

“Neither do I. Put my cock inside you instead.”

Following his instructions, Hermione lifted herself up, using the arms of the chair for leverage, and Percy helped guide his cock to her entrance. When it was in place, she lowered herself down, her skirt still caught higher on her body, exposing even more of her front as she watched herself slide onto his length.

She had forgotten how good it felt to have him stretch her out. Sinking onto him made the burn more intense, and watching it made the whole experience even better.

“That’s nice,” Percy breathed, leaning back in the chair for a moment before sitting up again, his fully buttoned shirt brushing her bare back and making her blush more at the fact that her top was down while he was still dressed. In fact, now that he was inside her, no part of him was exposed, but she looked like a wanton slut on his lap.

But not as much as she did once he whispered his next command. “Now bounce on it, little girl. You’re going to make us both explode. It’s your job.”

His hands wandered up to her breasts, toying with her nipples as he kissed her neck and watched in the mirror. Hermione felt like she might die of embarrassment, but she moved her body anyway, desperate to feel him move inside her.

As she bounced, her breasts bobbing lewdly, one of his hands traveled slowly down her body, across her abs, and down over the mound of hair there until his fingers were lightly circling her clit. “Stop moving for a moment.”

She stopped, gasping when he ran his finger around his own cock, gathering up her excess juices. “Good girl,” he praised, making her clench. Now he brought his wet finger back up to her clit and said, “Bounce for me, darling. Once you come three times this way, I’ll start doing the work.”

“I can’t—” she started.

“I’ll decide what you can and can’t do,” Percy told her. His finger was sliding over her clit with every movement she made and it was driving her mad. Watching herself in the mirror like this was intoxicating, and the feel of his hot cock inside her, watching it slide in and out of her body, was enough to make her come even if he hadn’t been touching her. With his fingers on her too? Hermione was going mad.

Percy licked up her neck and lightly bit on her ear and Hermione came apart. She’d had no idea that would have that kind of effect on her, but she couldn’t help it. What drove her mad was that Percy didn’t stop. He was sucking her ear now, and tapping out a rhythm on her clit. It was overwhelming and she couldn’t stop shaking and shuddering.

Calmly, he pondered, “Should we count that as one or two orgasms? I think we’ll say it was just one. Two more to go.”

“No, please, this is too much,” Hermione protested.

He paused, making her go still. “Do you need to safeword?”

“No,” she whined. “Please…” Hermione wasn’t even sure what she was begging for, but then he touched her again and she had to admit she knew she was a slut for the pleasure he was giving her.

This time, the fingers of one hand were petting her clit while the other twisted a nipple. He pulled her head to the side so that he could kiss her properly, but Hermione had to admit she was keeping one eye open, trying to watch them in the mirror.

Percy let her go, laughing. “You can’t take your eyes off the pretty picture you make on my lap, can you?” He pinched her clit and she was gone again. This time she screamed out her release.

When she was coherent again, Hermione flushed. “Is this room soundproof?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Believe me when I say there will be times when we play like this in places that are not soundproof.”

Hermione was almost ashamed of how much wetter that made her, fluid squelching between them as she continued her movement on top of him. Her thighs and abs were burning with the effort. As though he knew, Percy said, “One more orgasm and you get to relax while I finish us off.”

“Please, I can’t do one more,” she begged.

“You can and you will — two more, at least. I’m going to get you off this next time with my words. And my finger doing this…” He began tracing around her clit, not giving her direct pressure on it, just enough to tease. “You see, this may not seem like it will get you off, but think about what it would be like if we were at a dinner table, surrounded by people, watching us do this, watching you fall apart for me over and over.”

Gasping, Hermione realized she really was close enough to come and began moving more vigorously, hoping to make his fingers slip and skim over her clit. It didn’t work. He just continued to move in smooth, lazy circles around it, making her groan in frustration. His voice was soft and dark as he whispered in her ear.

“You would look just like this, your dress barely on, me fully dressed, and you with my cock inside, which everyone would know. Even before I undressed you, they would know you were mine, and then they would watch me claim you. If they were very lucky, I might let one or two of them touch you while—”

He paused as she fell apart again, coming so hard that his breathing hitched as she tightened around him. “Did you like that idea?” Percy asked. “It’s a shame I’m related to all your other husbands — you do seem to enjoy multiple people, don’t you? You were made for this life, little girl.”

“Yes, sir,” she gasped, barely able to control her breathing.

“Now, you’re going to lift up, brace yourself on the chair arms. Good girl.” With her braced up, Percy began thrusting up into her. His breaths were quickly becoming labored, but he kept talking, kept telling her, “Look at the way you’re taking my cock. Watch it the way all those people would watch me claiming you. You belong to me and everyone will know it.”

“Yes, sir,” she cried out as she came again, this time squeezing tight enough that Percy yelled, “Fuck!” and pushed as deep inside her as he could, slamming against her cervix and making Hermione whimper with pleasure so intense it was almost pain.

Collapsing back against his chest, Hermione was practically liquid on top of Percy. She could hardly hold herself up, and he didn’t seem much better. She was surprised when, moments later, he managed to stand, his cock popping out of her, and carried her over to a sofa she hadn’t even realized was in the room.

He carefully cleaned her up and arranged her skirt so that it covered her. He gently pulled the straps of her dress back up before closing his own trousers. Then he pulled her into his arms, still so gently, and kissed her. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing,” Hermione answered.

“Give it a few minutes to come down off the high and I’ll ask again.” He just held her sweetly, rocking her a little bit as Hermione did indeed come down. She realized with surprise that she was actually shaking a little bit. His voice soothed her as Percy said, “It’s not uncommon to feel shaky and emotional after a scene. I know you’ve read about it, but experiencing it is different. If you need to cry, or be angry, or whatever emotion you’re feeling, I’m here to listen and help you through it.”

“I… I think I’m okay, just… that was so intense even though we didn’t do very much from my list.”

“That happens. Our connection is strong and that takes everything up a level. My feelings for you… this was intense for me, too,” he admitted.

They talked for a while longer on the couch before he told her, “I have food and hot chocolate ready for us at home in my room. Would you like to go back there and let me finish taking care of you? After you eat, I want to give you a good bath and then fall asleep with you in my arms.”

“That sounds perfect, Percy.”

Chapter 52

Notes:

OMG I had no idea it had been SO long since I last posted. I'm terribly sorry. But also, this one originally had a major plot hole that i had to fix, so it took a while. The next chapter is finished already and just has to go through my team (fingers crossed for no plot holes this time), so it shouldn't take as long, I swear.

In other news, I finished writing my first book! And I've begun the second. But I'm still here for this story. And I haven't abandoned my other fanfics either, I'm just putting a lot of my energy toward the original stories and looking at self publishing.

The morning was eerily quiet with everyone but Bill still in bed. In fact, he was up so early today that he had already spent some time tidying his new desk in the main study, setting everything up just how he wanted it.

Now, he had moved to the kitchen, intent on making breakfast — if he could figure out all the magical gadgets his wives had purchased yesterday. Perhaps he would go with something simple on the stove and leave them to figure out the fancy new magical appliances.

He should be upstairs, snuggling still with Fleur, but he was nervous. Any day now, they could find out she was pregnant. She had thought it might be yesterday, but the answer was still no then. So perhaps today…

But Bill couldn’t just lie there and wonder. He needed to be busy. So he had made himself busy and filled the house with the scents of sizzling bacon and freshly baked pastries, some of Fleur’s favorite recipes. Either they would be celebrating if today’s news was good, or they would help cheer her up if the answer was not yet.

He refused to think they might just not be pregnant this month. They had timed everything perfectly and spent plenty of quality time together. It was a foregone conclusion that they would be expecting.

Ginny stretched like a cat as she wandered into the room, sniffing — just as cat-like — and licking her lips. “Whatever you’re baking smells delicious. Is the bacon ready?”

“Some of it,” Bill told her, slapping her hand away as she reached for it. Instead, he levitated a few pieces onto a plate and handed it to her. “That’s enough for you to start.”

“But I’m eating for two,” Ginny protested.

He gave her his best big brother stare, but it had no more effect on her than it ever did. She grinned impishly as she darted around him to add another piece to her plate. If the timer on his wand hadn’t started buzzing, he might have caught her and taught her a thing or two, but instead, she rushed to the table, giggling, while Bill pulled the pastries from the oven.

They had ultimately gotten a small dining table for the kitchen as well as the large one for the dining room. They wanted somewhere to sit and eat and socialize while cooking, or if only a few of them were home for any given meal. Bill was glad of it right now. He wasn’t sure how Ginny was going to react when Fleur became pregnant, too. Would she be excited? Or mad that the limelight was being stolen? He hoped it would be the former, but was braced for her to throw a fit. Perhaps he could subtly feel her out.

“Gin, how do you feel about yesterday’s press conference?”

She smiled a little dreamily. “It was perfect. Now everyone knows that Harry and I are together! And it was so nice of Kingsley to promote Perce, though I wonder if he only did it because they’re… you know… together.”

Bill sucked in a breath. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wondered the same thing, but he never would have said it out loud. And, honestly, the position made sense with everything Percy was doing, despite how young he was for it. “Don’t say that,” he whispered fiercely.

Ginny shrugged. “I was only saying what we all thought.”

Sighing, he nodded. “But you were pleased about you and Harry?”

“Yes, I told you I was,” Ginny said as she nibbled on a piece of bacon.

“So you would be happy for someone else if they got to announce something similar?”

She snickered. “Subtle, big brother. Is Fleur…?”

“No, I am not,” the Veela herself replied, looking pale and sad. “I just checked.”

“Hey, we were supposed to check together,” Bill chided softly as he pulled her into his arms. “Maybe we’ve miscounted the days.”

Fleur shook her head, her sadness seeping into him as he held her. “Non, mon amie. Eef we were going to be with child zis month, we would know by now.”

Ginny looked down at her plate for a moment, almost guiltily, before standing and suggesting, “How about I make everyone a nice cup of tea?” Bill nodded to her, thankful that she had reacted like their Mum would have. He needed the comfort, too.

As she bustled about the kitchen, Bill continued holding Fleur and whispering endearments to her until there was a sharp rapping at the window. Fleur, though tears still trailed down her cheeks, gently pushed away from him and said, “I weel let eet een.”

When she returned to the table, there was a brave smile on her face. “Eet was only our first try. Eet just means we weel try again.”

Bill reached out and squeezed his arm around her shoulders as Fleur unfurled the Daily Prophet. She gasped at the headline and Bill looked down, groaning when he saw it.

“What’s wrong?” Ginny asked, heading toward the table. Bill wanted to hide it from her, but there was no way she wouldn’t hear about it.

*******

Percy smiled as he woke, loving the feel of his perfect wife against his body. He had rarely woken up with anyone before, but if the couple of times now with Hermione were any indication, he liked it. A lot.

His mind wandered to what it might feel like having Kingsley spend the night. Or both of them at once. He felt his cheeks flush even though it was only a thought. Hermione was still sleeping peacefully next to him.

The very idea of Hermione and Kingsley with him at the same time was overwhelming. Percy had no idea if either of them, much less both, would go for a night like that, but he hoped to someday find that they would. Shaking his head slightly, careful not to jostle Hermione, he set that thought aside.

Last night had been everything he had hoped. Better than he had hoped for, actually, since he had managed to stay on track even with Miss Penny out of the room. He wasn’t sure if he should feel this way, but he was so proud of the way Hermione had stood up for herself. It went against his need for control, but they hadn’t been in-scene yet.

And Merlin, she was hot when she went up against Miss Penny. Very few people were willing to go toe to toe against her. That Hermione was just solidified for Percy how very attractive she was. Yes, he wanted to help her see how submitting could help her let go. But he also loved her fierceness.

And her tenderness. Percy had been blown away by how sweet she was during last night’s aftercare, how perfect it had felt to take care of her and let her take care of him in return. When he had placed her gently in the bath, she had insisted he get in with her and they had sweetly made love in bed before falling asleep.

It was different from his usual experiences, but Percy found himself loving it. He wouldn’t mind some more of it. He was just contemplating waking Hermione when he heard a scream from downstairs.

********

“What is it? What’s happened?” came calls from all over the house. It was Harry who made it down the stairs first, skidding into the kitchen as he called for Ginny. He must have recognized the scream as hers.

Fred hadn’t. Not that he wanted it to be his sister, either, but he had been afraid it was Hermione who had screamed. Instead, she was behind him on the staircase, wearing only Percy’s button up, clearly having scrambled to find out what was wrong just like the rest of them.

At the kitchen table, Ginny was sobbing into Fleur’s chest, then quickly turned to Harry when he got to her. “That bitch has ruined everything!” she wailed.

“What bitch? And what did she ruin?” Harry asked, bewildered.

Fred knew, though. He could see the Prophet on the floor. He couldn’t read the headline from here, but he knew instinctively that it was something from Rita Skeeter. And she had somehow gotten around what she promised in front of the Wizengamot.

Just as Fred had been sure she would. What was it she had said? Bill had demanded she only print the absolute truth and she had promised she would. So the question now was what truth had she unveiled?

Leaning past everyone trying to comfort Ginny, Fred picked up the Prophet and began to read.

 

The Boy Who Is Still Available

At a press conference yesterday, we all learned that our hero, Harry Potter, and the young Ginevra Weasley are expecting the first heir of the House of Potter. They appeared overjoyed to share the news as they held hands and made it seem as though they are nothing but a happy couple. It wasn’t even implied that this was a mistake or a case of children having children far too young.

What this reporter wonders is how they plan to proceed forward with their relationship when Miss Weasley is already married. As part of the ritual the Weasley siblings used from their Family Legacies, it is a fact that Ginevra Weasley is magically bound in marriage to Hermione Granger.

Of course, the Head of the Noble House of Weasley, William, has a second wife in addition to Miss Granger, so perhaps young Ginevra plans to become the next Lady Potter as well. No plan of that was mentioned at yesterday’s press conference, a glaring oversight if a wedding is forthcoming.

This reporter is sad to say that this may affect the fate of the poor baby, whom magic may or may not accept as Heir Potter since he or she will be illegitimate. As many of you no doubt know, any children born from a true marriage would supersede this one, despite the order of birth.

But the good news for you, readers, is that our hero is still a free man. Of course he’s just been through a war, and with a baby on the way may not want to get involved yet, but you never know. As his Muggle relatives would say, he clearly has some wild seeds yet to plant.

 

Fred scoffed. “Even I could have done better than that at muggle phrasing.”

“That’s what you got from that?” Ginny demanded, her tears still trickling down her cheeks as her mood swung to anger, shaking away Fleur and Harry who had been holding her. “That nasty, evil bug says such horrible things about Harry and I and all you care about is the muggle phrasing?” She was shouting by the end.

“Everything she said is horrible,” Fred agreed, “I was just trying to keep it from sounding so bad.”

“Making light of it,” George added sleepily from the door. He hadn’t rushed in quite as fast as the others. He clearly didn’t know what he was talking about but, as always, he had Fred’s back anyway.

Taking the paper from Fred, Bill began scanning the article as he muttered, “She promised she wouldn’t do this.”

“Technically, everything she said is true. I told you her promise wasn’t good enough, big brother,” Fred said with a little bit of a growl to his voice. He hated being ignored and treated like he wasn’t as smart just because he liked to play pranks.

“It is not true,” Ginny screamed, slamming her foot down. “The baby is not illegitimate! Harry and I can get married!”

Bill sighed. “I’m not really sure—”

“Well I AM!” Ginny shouted over him. Two cabinets slammed in the kitchen, accentuating her shouts. “This article is not true. It’s not and I’m going to prove it!”

Fred exchanged a glance with Bill, hoping he would take her in hand. Bill just shook his head. Sighing, Fred asked, “How would you do that?”

“By marrying Harry!” Ginny declared, looking at Harry beseechingly. Ember seemed to glow at the idea of a wedding.

For his part, Harry blinked owlishly at her. “I… I don’t know if we can.” His eyes darted around the room, landing on Bill.

Hermione moved forward from behind Fred, wrapping an arm around Ginny before she said. “I’m afraid it may be a little soon for that, don’t you think? You’re both still healing.”

Harry looked momentarily relieved that Hermione had interceded before looking back at Ginny. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I still want to be with you, but I don’t think we’re ready—”

“No,” Ginny said. “We are going to prove that nasty bug wrong! You are not available and our baby is the heir to the House of Potter.”

“Perhaps we should talk to Mum about it,” Charlie suggested quietly. “Maybe she’ll have some insight on what it’s like to marry someone who’s already in a marriage like this.

“And to find out how she’s doing with this,” George added.

Fred found himself nodding in agreement. He may still have problems with their Mum, but this was something she could help with.

Again, Ginny angrily said, “We can’t let her get away with this!” She was pacing, stomping with every step.

“She won’t,” Bill promised, but Fred couldn’t imagine what he might actually do about it since the words were true for once. Judging by the murderous rage on Ginny’s face, they might have a body to bury before long if Bill didn’t come up with something good.

Privately, Fred thought smashing the bug might be the best answer. Did animagi turn back into human form if they died as animals? He wasn’t sure, but it might be worth finding out. Then again, hiding a dead bug was significantly different than hiding a dead witch if she shifted back.

Hermione was whispering in Ginny’s ear, clearly trying to calm her down. And, when that didn’t work, kissed her fiercely, finally distracting the angry girl. Fleur came up behind Ginny and, after a wink at Bill, whispered something to the other two girls and led them away upstairs.

Everyone was relieved, except perhaps Percy, who looked mildly annoyed, probably because his time with Hermione had been cut short. Fred cleared his throat but Charlie beat him to it, stepping close to Harry. “Do you want to marry Ginny?”

Harry looked around at this gathering of her brothers and clearly thought they were all about to insist he do just that. His eyes were wide and he looked like he might panic at any moment.

“Because you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” George told him softly. Fred wasn’t sure if he was trying not to spook Harry or if he just didn’t want any chance of Ginny hearing.

“She’ll probably forget all about the idea once the girls calm her down anyway,” Percy said in his most reassuring tone.

“I don’t know,” Harry finally said. “She’s brought it up a few times. And I… it’s not that I don’t want to marry her. It’s just that I can’t right now. I need some time. I need… I don’t know what I need but I know I’m not ready.”

“It’s okay to feel that way,” Bill assured him. “I know Ginny is emotional right now and that makes her temper flare even more than usual, but deep down I know she wouldn’t be okay with trapping you, either.”

“I hope so,” Harry replied, still looking worried.

George grinned, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulders, “And if the hormones make her push you too hard, we’ll prank her until she forgets all about you.”

That, finally, made Harry laugh, and Fred was glad to see him so relieved. They all moved to the dining room and began breakfast as the Prophet was passed around to those who hadn’t gotten to look at it yet.

“Should we go see Mum now or wait until dinner tonight?” Fred asked. He didn’t want to go to the Burrow any sooner than he had to, but he also knew that Mum probably had a lot to say about this.

He hated to admit it, but Fred felt profound relief when Percy sighed and said, “I’ll go to Mum now. She needs an understanding ear, but we don’t want to overwhelm her with the lot of us. And we certainly don’t need Gin there getting her all worked up.”

No one mentioned the moans they had heard from upstairs a little while ago. Bill had hastily put up a strong silencing charm, but they were all well aware of the methods Hermione must be using to calm Ginny. Fred’s only question was why Fleur was still up there, too.

Shaking his head, he realized that was a question he didn’t want to know the answer to. Instead, he turned his mind to ways they could make Rita’s life a living hell. Glitter bomb owl post, maybe charmed to go off above her head. A gift of a quill sharpener that would make all her quill tips break as soon as she tried to use them. That would be easy to charm. Perhaps charm her notebooks so that they scramble her words. A toy beetle, perhaps. Better yet, a smashed toy beetle.

Grinning, Fred pulled George aside and began to go over his ideas.

**********

Hermione moaned from the feel of the shower hitting her body. Even though they had mostly been focused on Ginny, every inch of Hermione’s skin was over sensitive from the lovemaking with both Ginny and Fleur, who had seemed to need it just as much as the younger girl. They had kept at it until Ginny was thoroughly exhausted and too happy to be angry any longer. Hopefully they had also talked her out of pursuing marriage right now. Ginny was now back asleep.

And Hermione was getting ready to go out for lunch. She hadn’t seen much of Charlie alone lately and missed him intensely, though she still couldn’t identify why it seemed so much more with him. She was looking forward to this time together.

When she emerged from the bathroom attached to her own room, Hermione was confused to see clothes already laid out. Had Percy chosen something for her? That was acceptable on their nights together, as agreed, but would be overreaching if he was picking things for her to go out with others.

But who else could it be? No one else would pick her clothes for her.

“Does you not like them?” a little voice squeaked behind her.

Hermione screamed, spinning around as she scrambled for her wand. She didn’t have it with her and she was in an absolute panic until her gaze landed on the wide, worried eyes of their little house elf, Tilly, who was now screaming, too.

“Tilly,” she gasped, when she could breathe again. Hermione’s heart was still hammering, but she felt silly now. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I laid out some clothes for your lunch,” the elf said, tugging at one long ear. “Did I do the wrong thing?”

“No, Tilly, it was fine—”

“Is everything okay in here?” Fred asked, peeking his head in the door. When he saw her standing there, naked except for a towel around her, talking to Tilly, he grinned, looked her up and down and said, “Everything looks more than okay here.”

“Fred—” Hermione started to admonish, but he blew her a kiss and disappeared, shouting something down the hall, presumably to let everyone in the whole house know that she had just been scared out of her mind by a house elf.

“Are you going to put on Tilly’s clothes or could you show me the kind of outfit you like?” the elf prompted as Hermione stood there, exasperated.

Looking over the clothes that were laid out, Hermione decided she quite liked them. “This is a little fancier than I would usually wear to a lunch since I don’t wear dresses all that often, but it’s sort of a date, so I think I’ll wear it today,” she told Tilly. “You really don’t have to—”

“But I wants to, Mistress Hermione,” Tilly gushed, “I want to prove I’m a good elf!”

“You’re an excellent elf!”

Tilly looked at her skeptically. “You would tell a very bad elf that.”

“I—”

“It’s okay. I’ll prove what a good elf I can be so that you mean it.” Tilly nodded happily to herself and popped away before Hermione could say another thing.

Part of her wanted to call the elf back and argue a bit more about Tilly not needing her approval, or anyone else’s, but when she found her wand on the nightstand and cast a Tempus, she realized there wasn’t time. Hurriedly, she slipped into her dress and the cute matching sandals Tilly had pulled out. She completed the ensemble with a necklace her father had given her many years ago and a couple of bracelets.

When she looked in the mirror, Hermione felt overdressed for just grabbing lunch together, but she had to admit she loved the way she looked. The new clothes her wives had insisted she buy yesterday really were doing something for her confidence.

She practically floated down the stairs, excited when she saw Charlie waiting at the bottom. He wasn’t exactly dressed up, but he had clearly showered and changed into clean clothes. He looked a little uncomfortable in the button down shirt he was wearing, but with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, she just appreciated him.

Rushing down the stairs, she nearly bowled right into Charlie as she flung herself at him. He caught her and twirled her around, both of them laughing.

“All right lovebirds,” Bill said with a smile. “Get out of here before I decide to steal her away from you.”

Charlie grinned at him. “I’d like to see you try.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Bill replied, grinning just as much as he twirled his wand.

“Boys!” Hermione chided, but she was laughing, too. It filled her with a sense of giddiness that they could all finally live together and all of this just be normal between the whole family.

“Sorry, draga,” Charlie apologized, grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it lightly before gently tugging her toward the floo. When they got to it, he called out, “Magik Ale!” and they were swirling through fireplaces until they were finally spit out in what looked like a very nice pub.

“Where are we?” Hermione asked.

“Well, the name of the place is Magik Ale but if you’re asking where it is, this is in the village of Sheringham. I came here once after chasing down a rogue dragon and it quickly became my favorite. They have the best shepherd’s pie I’ve ever had — but don’t tell Mum I said that!”

Hermione laughed, noting that he had said Mum instead of Molly this time. To some degree, it was a relief that Charlie was sliding back into that habit. She knew the strained relationship with Molly was hard on him. But she wanted to focus on him right now, not his Mum. “If it’s the best, I’ll have to have some of the shepherd’s pie.”

Charlie grinned at her, then lowered his voice. “Be careful what you say in here. There are muggles about. The people of Sheringham are so used to wizards that they just think the people who come here are quirky, but it’s understood we try not to break the Statute of Secrecy too much.”

“I love that it’s a mixed crowd!” Hermione gushed, looking around to try and pinpoint the muggles. Luckily, there were none particularly close to them. Still, she leaned in when she asked, “How have your dragons been doing?”

“The ones at the bank?” he asked in reply. When she nodded, Charlie went on. “Dahrian and Azara are both settling in well. Azara has even begun making a nest in their meadow and Dahrian loves their pile of gold inside the bank. He’s already caught two potential thieves that got too close. One was innocent, but the other was legitimately trying to break in.”

“Someone was trying to break into a vault?” Hermione asked in surprise. “And it wasn’t all over the Prophet?”

“The goblins have been keeping it quiet. The person they captured wasn’t turned over to the wizards as has been done before,” Charlie explained.

“Isn’t that illegal?” she questioned.

Shaking his head, Charlie was stopped from answering by the arrival of the pub owner, taking their order. When the wizard had moved on to the next table, he continued.

“Because a witch thief can be seen as an attack on the goblin nation, it falls within their jurisdiction how she is handled. I don’t know what they’ve done with her and I frankly don’t want to know.”

“So it was a witch trying to break in,” Hermione repeated. “Do you think she might have been one of the ones following the Death Eaters?”

“It would be hard to say without questioning her,” Charlie said slowly, “but you make a good point that she could have ties to a larger group. I’ll talk to the goblins about it.”

As their food was served, they spent a few moments without speaking, except for Hermione’s exclamation that this really was the best shepherd’s pie she had ever tasted. Charlie grinned at her before going back to his food. He was neat and used good manners, unlike a certain youngest brother of his, but Hermione observed that he attacked this meal with a similar gusto.

“What have you been up to this morning?” she asked.

“Building something,” he replied.

Sensing that he was dodging the question, Hermione raised an eyebrow. “What are you building?”

“Would you like to see when we’re done here?” he asked. “I wasn’t able to finish it with all the drama this morning, but I have a good start.”

Hermione was curious, but, knowing Charlie, she was aware she wouldn’t get any more out of him about what he was building. “Maybe,” she hedged, then asked, “What did you think of the article this morning?”

“I think people who have secrets best not make deals that involve having the truth told about them,” he said with a sigh and a shake of the head, “but I don’t fault Bill for it. He thought that would cover it. As for Ginny… I love her, but she’s gone around the bend with the pregnancy hormones. They always affected Mum pretty badly in the first bit, too. I remember how bad she was when she was pregnant with the twins, Ron, and Ginny. I don’t know how Dad bore it. And I’m worried about how it’s going to affect her relationship with Harry, especially if she pushes this marriage idea.”

“Harry’s not ready for it,” Hermione stated. She wasn’t completely sure how he felt on the matter, but she knew he wasn’t ready.

“I could tell,” Charlie agreed. “I’ll talk to Ginny if she won’t back off on her own.”

“And she’ll listen?”

“I hope so. I am her favorite brother, so she’s more likely to listen to me than the others,” Charlie said with a grin.

“It’s worth a try,” Hermione told him, smiling. She loved his confidence. She supposed in his eyes Ginny was behaving like a creature that needed to be calmed. He was certainly good at that.

They were finishing up their food now, but Hermione found herself wishing the two of them could spend more time together. “I guess you have to get back to what you were doing?”

“I should,” Charlie agreed, “so that it gets done. Would you like to come along and see?”

“Yes!” she decided instantly, happy to be included. Even though he offered earlier, she hadn’t really thought he meant it.

Before long they were flooing back to Emberhaven, to Hermione’s surprise. “Something at the house? I thought you might have been to Hogwarts, working on something in your office.”

“Not today,” Charlie told her with an enigmatic smile. He took her hand, and tugged her along the main hall toward the Conservatory. To her surprise, once inside she realized the plants that had been wild and taking over were in the process of being tamed.

“Is this what you’ve been doing?” she asked.

“No, I believe this can be attributed to Norby. What I need to show you is this way,” he said, pulling her toward the tower.

The dark room at the bottom of the tower was filled with drying plants, no doubt also done by Norby as he was returning order to the Conservatory. Following Charlie up the stairs, Hermione gave a soft gasp when they came into her tower study. Along the wall, he was halfway through constructing a beautiful desk, made of the same wood that she had chosen for her bedroom suite. It was curved so that it fit against the wall, but properly straight where she needed it to be.

“Charlie, this is perfect!” she gushed, flinging herself at him. He caught her in his arms, leaning down to kiss her. What started as a soft kiss quickly turned passionate.

“Should have started the desk sooner so we would have a good surface in here,” he muttered, picking her up and moving to the wall instead.

Hermione began to fumble at his belt, but Charlie shook his head. “No, draga. I have work to do.”

“Tease,” she accused, but gasped as she said it, when his tongue played along her collarbone.

“That I am,” Charlie responded, his lips smiling against her skin. It was utterly unfair how decadent that smile was.

By the time she left the tower, letting him get back to work, it was well into the afternoon and Hermione felt like she was on fire. Perhaps she would seek out the twins… yes, that was a splendid idea.

*********

George was reading a charms text in the sitting room when he felt someone lean over his shoulder. Whispering in his ear, Hermione asked, “Could I convince you to put that down for a while?”

“Sure, love,” he said. “What do you need?”

“You,” she purred in his ear. “And Fred, if the two of you don’t mind sharing me?”

Grinning from ear to ear, George called to Fred using their twinspeak. Now that he was focused on his two soulbonds, he was surprised Hermione had been able to sneak up on him. She was practically pulsing with need.

“What did Charlie do to you?” Fred asked as he took her hand and pulled her up the stairs.

“Teased me unmercifully,” Hermione pouted, her other hand tugging George behind her. The three of them nearly ran over Harry, heading down the stairs with his broom slung over his shoulder.

If George were being polite, he would have asked where Harry was headed, but with Hermione in her current state, he found he couldn’t care at this moment.

He knew from the bond that all she wanted was to have the twins buried deep inside her. Her thoughts were clear as day, as though she had forgotten everything they had taught her about shielding them: She was glad she had the two of them since she was absolutely certain a single man wouldn’t be able to quench the thirst Charlie had stirred up — except Charlie himself, perhaps, but Hermione was too mad at him for working her up like this to give him that kind of credit at the moment.

There was a moment of hesitation in the hallway before Hermione pulled the two of them into her room. “The bed in here is bigger,” she told them, practically sprinting for it as she dropped her dress and knickers to the floor. She hadn’t been wearing a bra.

George exchanged a surprised look with his twin before taking in the hungry look Hermione was giving them. He needed to remember to thank Charlie later.

While George was busy thinking that, Fred had already approached the bed, naked already himself though George didn’t know how he’d had time to get that way. Hermione crawled over to Fred, pulling him to her and kissing him fiercely. Her hand wrapped around his hard cock and began stroking it.

Unlike his brother, George undressed slowly, watching the two of them, especially as Hermione began frantically kissing down Fred’s body, causing him to groan as she popped the tip of his cock into her mouth. Knowing her, she was running her tongue around the head of his dick, making him want to fall apart already.

Once Hermione was fully absorbed in taking Fred’s cock as deep as she could, George made his way onto the bed behind her. As he expected, she was so wet he would need no time to prepare her. Part of him wanted to taste her first, to bury his face between her legs and let her ride him, but he could feel her desperation to be filled.

What his lady needed, he was happy to provide. Lining himself up, George slid into her, opening his own side of the bond so that Hermione could feel what he was feeling as her muscles squeezed his cock. It took a couple of strokes before he bottomed out inside her, not wanting to slam in all at once.

Hermione whined around Fred’s cock, no doubt overwhelmed by how good she felt mixed with the feelings from the bond. George felt the moment that Fred opened his bond, too, that she began to feel what Fred was feeling. She came so fast and hard that George wasn’t expecting it and nearly released himself as she caught his cock in a vice grip.

“You’re not done satisfying us,” Fred said after a moment, grinning down at her wickedly. Hermione’s eyes were glazed after her powerful orgasm, but she sucked hard on Fred. At the same time, she wiggled her arse at George, making his cock pulse with need and he began to slide in and out of her again, a steady rhythm, but not too much. He wanted this to last.

For him, that is. For her… he reached around and began toying with her clit, grinning at his twin when Hermione’s muffled scream began and the clenching around his cock started once more. This time, George fucked her through the orgasm, increasing his pace somewhat so that the intensity of her pleasure was that much stronger.

He could feel everything she was going through, everything Fred was experiencing, and the feel of her wet velvety pussy around himself. It was enough that George knew he wouldn’t last much longer — nor would Fred.

Sliding his fingers around and around her clit, he pushed her toward another orgasm, knowing he wouldn’t make it through that one without spilling into her. Fred, meanwhile, had grabbed her by the hair and was none too gently pushing her down further on his cock, muttering that she should take it.

George would have worried about that if he hadn’t been able to tell how much she was loving it — both from the bond and because she was nearly at the edge again even without direct contact on her clit. She was so wet he nearly slipped as he pounded in and out of her sweet cunt.

Suddenly, it was all too much and in a wave with no discernible beginning, the three of them cried out, all coming at once with an intensity George could barely manage to breathe through. As he continued to pump himself inside her, Hermione went limp, her mouth slipping off Fred’s deflating cock.

“Is she okay?” Fred gasped.

“I think she passed out,” George responded. “Hermione, love?” He leaned over her, letting his own spent cock slip out.

“Are you still with us?” Fred said, laying down next to her and shaking her gently. Hermione moaned lightly and George knew through the bond that she felt like she was floating as she came back to them.

“Remind me to buy Charlie something nice,” Fred quipped. “We owe him for some of the most explosive sex I’ve ever had.”

“I’ll second that,” George said, the thought an echo of his own.

Hermione smiled, too euphoric to still hold a grudge against Charlie.

“We should shower,” Fred suggested. “We’re supposed to be at the Burrow in half an hour.”

She groaned and George found himself laughing. “Come on, lovely. We need to get you presentable.”

“Get all three of us presentable,” Fred amended.

“If you can stand, we can shower together,” George cajoled enticingly.

“Do you think the shower is big enough for that?” Hermione asked.

Ember made her opinion known with flickering lights and they heard an odd sound from the bathroom. George picked Hermione up and carried her in to inspect it. Apparently, the house had decided to help them again by enlarging the shower quite a lot. The three of them would fit with no problem. Fred grinned wickedly as he led them in.

********

He was running late. He was always running late these days. Ron sighed to himself as he rushed to change out of his Auror uniform. He was in such a hurry that he didn’t bother with the showers and the men’s changing area, just stripping down to his pants by his locker. He didn’t think anything of it until he heard a gasp behind him.

To his surprise, Millie was standing there, her eyes round as they roved up and down his body. Ron didn’t usually feel self-conscious — especially now that the Auror training had helped him bulk up a bit — but the way she was looking at him was different. “What?” he demanded.

Her jaw moved up and down for a moment, though no sound came out. Finally, she snapped it shut and shook her head, her cheeks flushing red. “What are you doing changing out here in the common area where anyone could walk in?”

“Who would come in that would matter?” Ron asked, bewildered.

Millie’s lips became a thin, angry line before she whirled around and stomped out of the room, calling over her shoulder, “Let me know when you decide to put some clothes on.”

“I’m getting dressed now,” he shouted back. All he heard in return was the slamming of the door.

She was absolutely mental. That was the only way to explain it. Huffing, Ron pulled his clothes on, using freshening spells on himself as he did. He would shower after everyone left tonight. Right now, he was just worried about missing dinner entirely.

As soon as he was dressed, Ron considered apparating straight from the locker room, but a niggling bit of his conscience said that wouldn’t be nice to leave Millie waiting. It would serve her barmy arse right for laying into him like that, but it just didn’t sit well with him when he really thought about it.

He dashed from the locker room, carrying his duffel. “It’s all clear now,” he told her as he saw Millie leaning against the wall. For some reason her face was red again and she quickly ducked inside. Definitely mental.

A quick apparition later and Ron was headed into the Burrow, relaxing as he was met with the enticing smells of one of Mum’s signature dinners. Only, when he arrived at the table, that sense of peace melted away. The tension in the room was thick.

Quick observation showed that Bill’s jaw was set, Charlie and Fred had their arms crossed, George was sitting ramrod straight, Percy just seemed worried, and Harry looked like he was about to pull a runner. Hermione had her hand on his arm, presumably to hold him back. In stark contrast, Mum and Ginny were standing at the head of the table, hands held together, smiling at each other. Whatever had just happened, they both appeared to be practically vibrating with excitement.

“Come in, Ronnie dear,” Mum said, turning to him. “Ginny’s just told us the most wonderful news! She and Harry are getting married! I think a summer wedding will be lovely, don’t you?”

Ron blinked, glancing toward Harry who, if possible, had just turned paler. So did Hermione beside him.

He had seen the Skeeter article that morning as he was getting ready for work. Of course he had — Aunt Muriel had stormed in with it, cursing, she was so angry. Honestly, he was surprised she wasn’t here now. She must have worn herself out earlier in the day.

But he hadn’t imagined they would react to it by getting married — if they even wanted to. Ron wasn’t certain he was reading the situation right, since he tended to be a bit dense about woman things, but he knew his best friend. Harry wasn’t on board with this. At all.

“A wedding?” Ron repeated questioningly. “We’ve only just finished the funerals and there are a bloody lot of Death Eaters still on the loose, and even more people supporting them who we know nothing about. You’re already getting ready to have a baby. Why add the stress of a wedding?”

Mum frowned at him, but Ginny bit her lower lip, looking around the room. “I just thought… it would show Rita Skeeter how wrong she is, wouldn’t it?” That lower lip started to tremble. Oh Merlin, he had somehow tipped her emotional roller coaster to the sad and crying side.

Ginny looked around the room, seeming to take in the expressions of all their siblings as well as Fleur, Hermione, and especially Harry. “Don’t… don’t you want to get married, Harry?” she asked plaintively.

Gulping, Harry said, “Ginny, you know how much I love you, and I’m so happy we’re going to have a family together, but marriage… I’m just not ready—”

“Not ready?” Ginny blustered, sounding on the edge of hysteria. Yes, he had really set off the coaster now. Her voice was shrill as she said, “You should have thought of not being ready before you gave me this baby. How can we be a proper family if we’re not even married?”

“Ginny,” Hermione said gently, “Harry is part of your family whether you get married or not. He always will be. He’s the father of your child.”

Back to tears. Ron scooted toward the table, a seat, and the food as Ginny cried, “But if we don’t get married, Rita wins.”

“And if you do, it will only be for show,” Percy said somewhat briskly. He was clearly trying to tone it down, but his worries made him sharper.

“What do you mean by that?” Mum demanded, turning to him with a look of anger.

“How did the marriage to Dad work, when he was already married?” Bill asked softly.

“We understand you may not want to talk about it,” George put in.

“But we do need to know,” Fred pressed.

Mum looked stricken, then balled her napkin up in her hands and threw it on the table. “My aunt came barging in this morning with the same impertinent questions. It’s no one’s business but mine and Arthur’s!”

“But it is now, Mum,” Bill told her. “Even if they’re not ready now, Ginny and Harry — and the rest of us for that matter — deserve to know how we can marry someone else. I’m married to Fleur, but I don’t know how it works for the others.”

“Magic has to accept the bond in addition to or overriding the first one,” Mum finally explained as Ron finished inhaling his first plate of food. “For you, Bill, magic accepted the bond during the ritual in addition to the bond you already had with Fleur.”

Ron noticed, as conversation began to move on and everyone relaxed minutely, that Mum never really explained how it worked. He wasn’t about to bring it up again, but he could still hear Aunt Muriel’s accusations from this morning ringing in his ears — and wondered why Mum wasn’t ready to be more helpful about this. He hadn’t thought about it much then, just rushing to get out of the house, but now it seemed suspicious.

He was finishing his third plate, barely paying attention to what everyone else was saying when Harry stood and said, “I have to go,” in a strained voice.

“I think we’ll go with him,” the twins said in tandem.

Charlie said nothing, but got up as well. This dinner wasn’t going as well as the first one had. Mum was crying quietly and Ginny was crying noisily. Ron realized he should have been following the conversation more, at least to monitor his sister’s mood. What was she crying about now?

“I’ve driven Harry away!” she said between sobs.

Percy patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “I’m sure you haven’t. You just can’t push him into a marriage he isn’t ready for.”

“But what if it’s like Fred said and magic won’t even accept us?”

“Eet eez unlikely to accept your bond eef one of you eez uncertain,” Fleur said, “but worrying about zat eez for a time when ze two of you are thinking more rationally. You ‘ave ‘ad a long day, lovely one. Why don’t we go ‘ome and get you to bed.”

“You could sleep here tonight,” Mum offered, looking hopeful. Ron hated to see her so desperate, but he thought being with the woman who was all about the wedding possibility probably wouldn’t help Ginny’s mania about it.

Ginny hesitated before nodding. “Could I sleep in your bed tonight, Mum?” she whispered.

“Of course,” Mum beamed. It had been a long time since Ginny had asked to do that, but they all remembered how she had always wanted to sleep with Mum when she had nightmares or didn’t feel good. Ron was glad she could still get that comfort.

He was not glad that his siblings were already gathering up and preparing to leave. Last week, he had heard they stayed long after he, Harry, and Hermione left. Percy offered to stay and clean up the dishes, but everyone else quickly departed.

Mum disappeared with Ginny into her bedroom and Ron found himself clearing the table, taking things into the kitchen where Percy had his sleeves rolled up and was working on the dishes.

“You know you could get them to wash themselves, don’t you?” Ron queried.

“I could,” Percy agreed, “but I needed to think.”

“About what?”

“Ginny mostly. These hormonal outbursts are going to kill us all. There has to be some sort of potion that would help her balance out a bit.”

“Maybe we can have Fred ask ol’ Snapey’s portrait.”

“If I ever talk to him, I’m telling him you called him that,” Percy said teasingly.

Ron felt the blood drain from his face. “Don’t you dare.”

Percy laughed. Actually laughed. He was so much more carefree these days. Happier, Ron had noticed.

As he headed back to the table, Ron made a mental note that he actually would see if Fred would ask. And if he wouldn’t? Well, maybe Ron would do it. He wasn’t afraid of Snape anymore. He wasn’t afraid of much of anything.

Even as he thought it, images flashed through his mind — worries of each member of his family being attacked, of Neville, or Luna, or Millie, or… Millie? Ron shook his head. She didn’t belong in the list. He must have been thinking about her because of how weird she was acting earlier. Yeah, that was it, he thought as he took the last dish to Percy. Stepping up next to him, they finished washing the dishes by hand, splashing each other with water and laughing until Mum came in and scolded them.

Chapter 53

When Hermione woke and moved to get up, it became apparent that extra care would be necessary to extricate herself from Fred’s hold without waking him. Hermione smiled at her husband as she began the delicate process. It was made harder, of course, by the fact that everytime she loosened one limb, Fred would grab hold somewhere else. The man could be frustratingly stubborn even in his sleep.

Smiling, Hermione finally worked herself free and rolled away quickly, watching as Fred turned in the bed, seeking something to hold. Using a bit of magic, she warmed a pillow to match her body temperature and put it within his reach, watching as Fred snuggled up to it. She tried not to laugh — or at least to keep her snickering quiet.

Padding silently to the master bath, Hermione got ready quickly. Today’s Wizengamot session was important with Bill planning to start his werewolf legislation push. She had promised him she would have things ready and Hermione was taking that very seriously. In no time, she was wearing her Wizengamot robes over a conservative blouse and skirt combo that she didn’t even intend for anyone to see.

Grabbing her little beaded bag, she slipped from the room and headed down the stairs. Ember’s silence indicated that even the house was still asleep. Hermione considered making tea, but was afraid it would wake someone. Instead, she snagged one of the lovely pastries Bill made yesterday and headed to the floo. She could get tea from the cart at the Ministry.

As she made her way up to the office of House Black, Hermione wondered if she should have brought Bill. She knew he would be getting up and heading this way soon enough, though. He would find her here. Their offices were close, after all. And, actually, since much of her plan involved work for him, she would head to the office of House Weasley soon.

She just wanted some time to breathe and be alone first. Yes, there were things that needed doing — copies to be made and his address to the Wizengamot to go over again — but realistically she didn’t need to be here this early just for that.

Hermione craved the silence. She loved her spice and the wild chaotic energy of their home together, but she needed a break now and then. She looked forward to Charlie being done with her tower office. Perhaps she could convince them all it was strictly off limits when she went there? Or work out a system to let them know when she was available and when she wasn’t.

By the time Bill appeared an hour later, she was behind the desk of House Weasley with all his copies made and a memo sent out to Percy to add Bill’s legislation to the agenda for the day. He already knew, of course, but it didn’t hurt to remind him. Hermione was pleased with the work she had done and even more pleased to be on her second run-through of the address by the time Bill appeared at the door.

“You scared me,” he said.

“Because I’m in your office?” she asked without looking up from the address.

Bill sighed. “Because you were missing from the house and didn’t take anyone with you. No one is supposed to go anywhere alone, remember?”

Blinking, Hermione looked up at him sheepishly. “I forgot, honestly.”

Running a hand down his face, Bill shook his head. “You can’t forget about your safety, Hermione. Of all of us, I most need you to be safe.”

“Why am I so important?” she asked, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Because you hold us all together now.”

“I think the bonds of the Weasley family and growing up together and all that probably hold the lot of you together quite well without me,” Hermione scoffed with a smile. She appreciated the sentiment, even if he was being a bit overdramatic.

“Maybe before,” Bill said earnestly. “But now you’re a huge part of that. Please don’t disappear without one of us.”

Hermione frowned. “Even if I need to be alone for a while?”

He looked uncomfortable and she knew she wasn’t going to like his answer. “It won’t be forever, Hermione. But for now, we can’t have you or anyone else in this family going off alone.”

Sighing, she had to admit she knew this already. Most of the time, she was the one telling the others to be careful. She had just badly needed her space this morning. Something in the air felt different, though she couldn’t put a finger on what it was. Whatever it was made her uneasy.

Even as Bill kissed her and sat at his desk to read the changes she had made to his address, Hermione’s mind was buzzing, trying to figure out what had changed to make her so moody. Bill was right, she knew better than to go off on her own.

She was still wondering what was going on when they headed into the Wizengamot session an hour later.

**********

Ginny entered the kitchen of the Burrow feeling refreshed — but also a bit embarrassed about her behavior the day before. She had been so enraged by the things that hag Rita said about their family that she had taken things much too far.

She owed Harry an apology. And perhaps her Mum, too, for getting her excited over something that wouldn’t happen.

“Is that you, Ginny dear?” Mum asked, still turned toward the stove, removing her famous cinnamon rolls from the oven.

Merlin, Ginny had missed those. “Yes, it’s me,” she confirmed.

“Good, good. I was going to come wake you soon before Aunt Muriel gets here, but I was hoping you would wake on your own. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, very well,” Ginny answered truthfully. But she needed to come clean quickly, she knew, or Mum would want to talk wedding plans. Too late, she realized, as she beheld the table spread with wizarding wedding magazines.

“Good! We’ll need our wits about us for this planning!” Mum said happily.

“Mum,” Ginny started hesitantly. She was interrupted by the whirr of the floo and Aunt Muriel calling her hellos. Ginny wanted to groan.

“What’s all this?” Muriel snapped as she walked into the room and observed the layout on the table.

“We’re planning a wedding,” Mum said gleefully.

“No, Mum,” Ginny said firmly. “That’s what I was just about to tell you. I’ve realized it would be a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Mum gasped.

Aunt Muriel looked at her sharply and asked, “You think it’s a mistake to get married to the father of your child?”

“How do you know we’re not planning a formal wedding with Hermione?” Ginny demanded, raising her chin.

“Well there’s no need for that,” Mum said, “but why wouldn’t you want to marry Harry, dear?”

“After resting so well last night, I can see the points they made — that Harry and I are still healing from the war and aren’t ready for that yet, that we should be putting our energy into the baby, that doing it at a time that doesn’t work for us just because that little beetle backed us into a corner doesn’t prove anything except how much power she has—”

“Yes, of course those are all good points, but we don’t want you to deal with any harassment for having a baby out of wedlock,” Mum cut in.

“Please listen to me,” Ginny begged. To her surprise, Mum put down the food she was preparing, waved her wand at it to put it in stasis and came to sit next to her, taking one of Ginny’s hands in her own.

“I’m ready to listen,” Mum told her and Ginny felt tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t sure she had ever really received her Mum’s undivided attention before. Would it go away once there was no wedding to the Chosen One?

Taking a deep breath, Ginny forged ahead. “So those reasons from last night are all good enough on their own to not make wedding plans. But I’ve realized a few others.” She paused, waiting for an interruption, but none came. Even Aunt Muriel seemed ready to listen.

“I’m already married, so we don’t have to worry about the baby being born out of wedlock.”

“But not to Harry, dear. It’s possible, like that vile woman said, that magic won’t see this one as the Potter heir and—”

“Codswallop, Molly. Magic doesn’t give a rat’s arse whether they have a wizarding marriage or not. The goblins won’t even care. This one will be Harry Potter’s firstborn and therefore his heir unless he specifically designates otherwise.”

“And Harry would never do that,” Ginny rushed to assure them. She was completely certain of that.

“Well, of course he wouldn’t,” Aunt Muriel snapped, shocking Ginny. Did the old woman just imply something nice about Harry? “So is that settled now?” the old woman in question added.

Mum bit her lower lip as though she were trying not to say her next words. Her hands played with one of the wedding magazines. “Ginny, dear, are you sure this is what you want? A big, beautiful wedding to Harry was something you always wanted.”

Ginny sighed a little regretfully. “It was, Mum. But that was when I was a little girl. Now I want different things. One of my other reasons… I want to be a professional Quidditch player, you know. Having this little one gives me the opportunity to be a mother at a time when my career won’t be impacted.”

“Having a child at home will severely limit your capabilities to travel and be part of a team,” Mum said, looking alarmed.

“Not when I have my entire family at Emberhaven to help with that child,” Ginny said, biting her own lip in fear of how her Mum might blow up.

There was silence at the table for a long moment before Mum said, “I can see how that could be true. He or she will certainly have plenty of adults who love them around at all times. But… I’m not sure what that has to do with a marriage to Harry.”

Sighing, Ginny said, “Having a child at home, and a wife, already ties me down quite a lot. I don’t need to add a husband to that right now. Harry and I love each other, but we don’t need a fancy ring or a piece of paper to prove it.”

Mum pursed her lips, worrying over the idea. Ginny could see it in her eyes. So could Aunt Muriel, it seemed, because she decided to put in her two cents. “The child is making sense, Molly. I don’t love the idea of my great niece or nephew being born without their parents being married, but there are plenty of married people to take care of the little one.”

Ginny relaxed despite the shock of Muriel’s words.

“Those married people are the ones who should have a wedding.”

She had relaxed too soon.

**********

Scribbling away at his desk, Percy felt uncommonly nervous. Looking down at his work, he huffed. The page was splotched all over where he had carelessly paused in his writing. It was truly unlike him, but he couldn’t help how he was feeling.

Kingsley would be here soon and it would be the first time he had seen the man since he had been declared the Senior Undersecretary. Every time he thought of the title, Percy’s heart swelled. And his head, if you believed the twins, though he understood now that they meant it — mostly — in good fun.

Everytime he thought about Kingsley himself, Percy was confused. It felt like they hadn’t spent any real time together since the Battle. Yes, there had been stolen moments here and there. And he knew that Kingsley had spent a significant amount of time at his bedside after Percy took that spell, but he didn’t remember that time together.

They needed more. At least, Percy did. He wasn’t sure if it was still lingering bond magic or just the draw of Kingsley himself, but Percy craved him. He shook his head. Just months ago, he had been completely in control of his emotions and his entire sexual life. Now he was a mess.

He even dropped his quill as Kingsley breezed into the office with a smile in his direction. “Senior Undersecretary Weasley,” Kingsley said by way of greeting, nodding his head like he would to any other respected member of his staff.

“Minister Shacklebolt,” Percy responded in kind. Before he could think better of it, he rose from his own desk and followed Kingsley into his office, silently cursing the Aurors who were following them.

“Did you need something, Senior Undersecretary?” Though his tone was neutral, the hungry look in Kingsley’s eyes made the question suggestive between just the two of them. At least, Percy hoped the Aurors couldn’t see that look, or the starving one in his own eyes.

“I do,” he said, planning his next words carefully. “There are a number of new items on today’s agenda — in particular House Weasley will be putting forward a bill for werewolf rights. As I — before becoming Senior Undersecretary, thank you again for that — had a hand in this bill’s creation, there are some items about it that I think you and I should discuss at length. I also, well, I need to know about my new duties and—”

“First of all you need to move into your office,” Kingsley said, gesturing toward the room to the right of Kingsley’s own office with an adjoining door. That could be useful when security wasn’t so tight.

“I can do that,” Percy agreed, feeling that swelling in his heart again. “But there are still things I want to discuss about what I’m expected to do.”

“Hmmm,” Kingsley hummed, making Percy think of the way that sound felt when those lips were wrapped around his cock. It had been too long since they were together. “I suppose it is unlikely it will pass on the first try. Perhaps we could have a working dinner at my place?”

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be too invasive?” Percy checked. He hadn’t expected an invitation like that, but he certainly wanted to accept it.

“I think it would be perfect,” Kingsley told him with another lustful look.

After that, they were back to all business, any hint of personal affections or desire hidden as the two of them read through the agenda and discussed how they thought things would go. Percy wanted the bill to pass, but he knew it would likely take a few tries. Kingsley agreed, though he was optimistic about it not taking too long to pass.

Soon enough, it was time to go to the newly reopened Chamber of the Wizengamot. Until entering the room, Percy hadn’t realized that he was nervous about that, too. He had thought it was all about his position changing.

Walking back into that Chamber felt like it could change everything, like everything had nearly changed in the blink of an eye last week.

He had almost lost Kingsley. And the others — there were so many lives that could have been lost. But what hit him hardest, what Percy hadn’t been expecting, was the phantom pain in his gut at stepping into this room again. He felt it all over again,the moment the spell struck and the pain exploded inside him. The moment he was sure he was going to die and had thought, better me than him, than any of them.

“Breathe, Percival,” Kingsley’s deep voice came to him. “It’s just a room and we both survived. We all did. You can do this.”

Percy forced himself to look around at the room — so beautifully restored — and did just that. He held his head high and took his place as the Senior Undersecretary beside the Minister, right where he belonged.

**********

Harry’s mood was grim as he took his seat in the Wizengamot. He had slept in his own room last night for the first time and it had been… remarkable. He had never had a space like it before, something just for him that he had selected for himself. Well, Emberhaven had done the decorating, for the most part, but he had picked the furniture and added touches here and there.

Despite the worries on his mind, he had actually slept well. As soon as he was awake, however, Harry was back to being upset. He wasn’t ready to get married, and he couldn’t figure out how to tell Ginny that without sending her into some kind of spiral. Then it would be his fault that she was moody and upset and everyone would be unhappy with him.

Except Teddy, he realized, grinning at the baby bouncing on Andromeda’s knee over at the Lupin seat. Teddy was starting to smile now, and his toothless grin made Harry happy despite himself. Harry prayed that his own child would love him just as much. Even if he disappointed its mother.

His internal worries had to be set aside as Kingsley called the session to Order. This was their first session back in the Wizengamot Chambers, new and improved. There had been a memo about it in his office — all the extra precautions and wards they had put in the room, though Harry wasn’t sure any of it was enough with the Elder Wand in play. More than that, however, the chamber had received a facelift.

It still looked ancient — still evoked a feeling of austere awe from anyone who saw it — especially those down on the floor as the Wizengamot members filed in and took their seats. But now it also had an air of being fresh, cared for, in a way it hadn’t been before. It was like the whole place was lighter. Harry liked it.

The layout was the same, so he still had Hermione at his side. And she was trying to talk to him, but Harry was busy scanning the crowd until he saw a pair of sapphire blue eyes. Theo. He hadn’t been actively seeking the other boy, but now that they were connected for a moment, Harry felt a little better.

“Harry,” Hermione snapped. “Are you listening? This is important. Remember, it’s for Remus.” That got his attention.

“What’s for Remus?”

“Are you serious?” she huffed.

“No, I’m Harry,” he answered, practically inviting her to hit him over the head with her sheaf of papers. Which she, of course, did.

She restarted her explanation, though Harry tuned it out again after a moment. He knew Bill was presenting werewolf legislation, and that was all that mattered. They were counting on him to stir up the vote. It was their only hope of winning on this first try. The werewolves needed him to win it for them.

“I’ve got this, Hermione,” he assured her. “I won’t let you down.” If there was one piece of legislation Harry was certain he could give his opinion on without preparing a speech, it was this.

His confidence lasted all through the address Bill gave, calling on everyone to give the werewolves the rights they deserved, set aside one of the former Death Eater properties as a home for werewolves, and sponsor the creation of a werewolf foundation with some of the fines paid by convicted Death Eaters. But then he was shaken by the protests from people he had thought would be allies.

Neville’s Gran was all for them having the Death Eaters things, but felt the rights they were offering — full rights as though they were regular wizards, since they were — were too much. Lord Pritchard didn’t like any of it and was loudly letting everyone know. They were two votes they had been counting on, that would now be “no”s, and Harry knew they couldn’t afford to let them sway all the neutral votes.

Harry stood. “One of my father’s best friends was a werewolf. He was one of the most loyal, kindest men I have ever known. Many of my generation remember him as the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we had in recent years. Remus Lupin, for whom this law is named, deserved better than he was given. And knowing him opened my eyes to the harsh inequalities werewolves face when they are truly just witches and wizards with an affliction for one night each month.”

There was quite a lot of applause as he sat, but it worried Harry just a little that people didn’t seem as excited now as they had after his other speeches. The next person to stand was Theo Nott.

“During the war, my friends and I learned some hard truths about werewolves.”

Harry felt a peculiar flip and sinking in his stomach as he realized that Theo must be planning to speak against the law. Yes, he had helped them win the war, but that was a far cry from accepting werewolves.

“Anyone could be bitten, even, or perhaps especially, pureblood brats who didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut. My friend Adrian learned that the hard way. And too many others, many much more innocent, were bitten when Fenrir Greyback roamed Britain. He’s gone now, thank Merlin, but it took too long. Because we did nothing to stop his reign of terror, we owe it to all the many victims he brutalized to pass laws that will make it safe and legal for them to get the support they need. I call on you all to vote for this law, to vote for compassion and sensibility. Remus Lupin wasn’t just kind. He was also a brilliant man, capable of so much that the wizarding world wouldn’t give him credit for. And he was brave, as all werewolves are, to keep going in the face of senseless prejudice and backwards laws. We can, and should, do better for the people like him.”

The whole Wizengamot sat in stunned silence as Theo gracefully sat. For this to come from a Nott was shocking. Harry knew his own jaw had dropped as Theo began to speak so passionately on the werewolves’ behalf.

It was finally broken when Bill stood once more and said, “I would like to call the vote now.”

“You don’t want a recess first?” Kingsley asked, looking rather surprised. He clearly expected the dark houses to protest that they hadn’t spoken yet, but none seemed able to recover from their shock to take the floor.

“No, thank you,” Bill said, grinning widely.

As the votes were collected, Harry felt hopeful, but wasn’t convinced yet that it would pass. Undoubtedly, this would be a close vote, and he wasn’t sure anyone had been swayed among the neutral votes. They should have spoken longer, should have allowed for more debate.

“The Remus Lupin Bill passes 28 to 22.”

Again, there was silence for a moment, but this time it was followed by cheering. Hermione was on her feet, kissing Bill in front of everyone. There were handshakes and whispered conversations with some of the neutral houses. Harry found himself only seeking one person, though. Across the room, Theo’s eyes met his again, and the other man winked.

**********

“Push it a little more to the right!” Oliver called out. Charlie remembered him as a younger Quidditch player, but apparently the man had eventually become Team Captain after him and got used to bossing others around.

With a grunt, Charlie moved the enormous beam to the right as he had been told. He hadn’t expected this particular job to really require as much sheer physical work as it did. He wasn’t complaining, though. It felt good to use his muscles.

He felt good about the work he was doing at Emberhaven, but it wasn’t challenging like this or like his dragons. Charlie sighed and pushed that feeling down. He had Azara and Dahrian at Gringotts, and his job here at Hogwarts would afford him the opportunity to play with a variety of creatures once the school was rebuilt.

It was coming along nicely. This was the last segment of wall that needed to be rebuilt and then they were to start remodeling inside — converting some of the unused classrooms into new dorms for the incoming eighth year students. He had been keeping it a secret — they all were — because the returning students were supposed to be surprised.

Of course there were a few who helped at Hogwarts everyday who already knew. But Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood weren’t likely to tell anyone else. Or, in Luna’s case, be believed if they did tell. That irritated Charlie, the girl had always been like a second little sister, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Except take points away this year. That thought cheered him up on the subject. Luna was a good kid. After what she went through in the war, she deserved to be treated better.

Maybe he could somehow work on a campaign against bullying students for being different. That was a terrible name, though. Perhaps Hermione could help him come up with something better. For all that the twins made fun of her for S.P.E.W.,Charlie loved that she had come up with it at all. And perhaps she had gotten a little better with the acronyms. Though, if she came up with it, he would love it no matter how terrible it was.

Of course, he loved most everything Hermione did.

The morning sun was high in the sky by the time the team stopped for a break. Charlie was working with Oliver and a fellow named Danny to rebuild a wall on the southern side of the castle. Because it involved both magic and physical labor, Charlie had been a hot commodity for it, but now he was too hot, covered in sweat, his shirt drenched from the hard work he had been doing.

If he was going to keep this up, he wasn’t doing it in a shirt, Charlie decided. Grabbing the soaked cloth, he dragged it over his head and tossed it aside. Both of the other men were outright ogling him as he walked over to their ever-filling pitcher of water and poured it over his head.

“That’s just indecent,” Danny said.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie apologized, feeling a little self-conscious as the water dripped down his body.

“Don’t be sorry!” Oliver assured him.

“Yeah, that wasn’t a complaint,” Danny agreed.

“Oh wow!” Oliver said. “Does your tattoo always glow like that?”

Charlie looked down at himself, at the dragons moving around on his arms and abs. “Glowing?” he asked simply.

“Yeah, the one on your back,” Danny said. There was a sinking feeling in Charlie’s gut.

“The one that doesn’t move,” Oliver added helpfully.

“No,” Charlie said involuntarily. “That one is just black.”

They looked at him in confusion. “It’s gold and glowing,” Oliver explained slowly.

“It’s… bugger!” Danny shouted. “That’s a bloody soulmate tattoo, isn’t it? I’ve heard of them but never seen one, especially not when they first start—”

“It can’t be!” Charlie burst out. “It’s not time yet. Not til September.”

Now they were looking at him like he was crazy, but Charlie didn’t care. He wanted them to take it back, to tell him it wasn’t golden now, wasn’t glowing and changing like it was supposed to do months from now.

“You know who your soulmate is?” Oliver asked, his voice gentle like he was afraid Charlie was going to spook.

“Yes,” Charlie said decisively. It had to be Hermione. He wasn’t going to accept that it wasn’t.

“I don’t know,” Danny said. “If you’re convinced it shouldn’t be til September, it sounds like you don’t know your soulmate, not the right one anyway.”

“You can’t have more than one soulmate,” Oliver told Danny.

Those words swirled in the pit of Charlie’s stomach. He couldn’t have more than one soulmate and Hermione wasn’t his. There was some other woman — or man — out there waiting on him, someone who had just turned 19 and would search for him for the rest of his life, hunt him down, when all he wanted was Hermione.

His heart was pounding, pulse racing, as he tried but failed to look over his shoulder and see the tattoo. He needed a mirror. He had to see for himself.

Oliver somehow seemed to sense what he was trying to do and conjured one. “Look mate,” he said, holding up the mirror so Charlie could see the back of his shoulder. Golden wings spread and the tattoo looked alive with magic. He knew once he and his soulmate touched again, it would move like his others. Another way to identify her, whoever she was.

If he could keep breathing that long. Charlie felt like he might hyperventilate out here in the sun and the heat with these two men watching him, so excited for him when he was anything but.

This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t handle it and he couldn’t stand to be present for another moment of it.

“I have to go,” Charlie said and apparated on the spot.

*********

As Kingsley dismissed them for a lunch break, Fred felt elated that the first bill set forward by House Weasley had passed so quickly and easily. If he weren’t tracking the dark houses and their malicious stares at his family, he might have thought it was so easy it was a trick.

But no, they were genuinely infuriated by this turn of events. Fred observed them as Sebastian Greengrass, in a rage, sent several of the others — Lady Burke, Lord Blotts, and Lord Fitz — to follow after Millie, but they paused when, at the door, Ron stepped in place beside her, scowling at the three dark arses until they walked away. Fred noticed as his brother put a protective arm around Millie’s back — and the slightly shocked look she gave him that Ron, of course, didn’t notice at all.

Glancing back toward Greengrass, Fred saw the man subtly draw his wand. Unfortunately for him, Fred cast first — and now far more subtly. The moment Lord Greengrass raised his wand the slightest bit, it made a shrieking noise like a siren, just loud enough to draw everyone’s attention in his direction.

“Lord Greengrass, what is the meaning of this?” Kingsley snapped, seeing the way the man had his wand at an angle to attack. Fred grinned to himself wondering how Lord Greengrass would smoothly talk himself out of this one.

“Someone has done this to my wand. I was going to make some copies of the documents here—”

“Don’t you think that would be better done in your office?” Kingsley suggested. The expression on his face made it clear he didn’t really believe Greengrass at all.

“Perhaps, but someone has to take this spell off my wand,” Lord Greengrass demanded. He was still waving it around.

“Does someone wish to take responsibility for this situation?” Kingsley asked, being careful not to look Fred’s way.

Despite the urge to slink away, Fred stuck to what he knew worked — keeping his head held high as he watched the rest unfold. Looked more innocent that way. Besides, if the idiot would ever put his wand down, it would stop. It only carried on while he had dark intentions. Honestly, Fred was a bit worried that the man was able to hold murderous intent for so long.

An Auror demanded, “Lower your wand and we’ll come take a look at it.”

Lord Greengrass sneered, but did as they bid him — and the sounds and glowing stopped. Fred grinned to himself knowing they would return as soon as the man raised his wand with ill intent again, until one of his dark buddies could figure out how to take the spell off. If he had anyone smart enough to pick apart the spell. Or an extra wand. Which, in an old dark house like his, he probably did.

When the show was over, the Auror taking only a cursory look at it now that the wand was quiet, Fred gathered his things and went to find someone to celebrate with. He would love to spend some quality time with Hermione… but then he remembered her affectionate embrace with Bill when the law passed. The two of them were undoubtedly off the list of possibilities.

Perhaps he could share a drink with Harry. Heading toward the office of House Potter, Fred suddenly began moving a little faster as he observed someone standing just around the corner from Harry’s office. That someone had dark hair and blue eyes. Fred knew he should recognize the man, had talked to him before, but couldn’t recall his name.

All Fred was certain of was that he came from a long line of dark wizards. Drawing his wand, he started to move forward and protect his oblivious friend, who was fiddling with the knob of his door as though his own wards may have turned against him.

Just as Fred prepared to fire a spell, however, the dark-haired man blew out a deep breath and sprung around the corner. “Harry… are you having trouble with your door?”

Fred dodged behind a potted plant to watch. This had to be some sort of trick. But it didn’t seem to be. The man was stumbling through an explanation of his own troubles with the doors here and how maintenance had to get involved and something about the way the old wards interplayed with modern personal wards. Basically, he was rambling.

Perhaps he was nervous about attacking. Fred leaned forward to see them a little better. Harry was staring at this other boy with something like awe in his eyes. “Thanks, Theo,” he said as his door finally swung open. “Do you um… do you want to come in and have a drink? With me? I mean, of course with me. I… thank you for what you said. Remus meant a lot to me. An unofficial uncle, kind of, and well, what you said sold the vote, I think,” Harry rambled on, running a hand nervously through his hair.

Fred was so fascinated that he jumped and nearly knocked over the plant he was hiding behind when someone touched his shoulder.

“Are you saving Harry from the evil Theodore Nott?” Andromeda asked, a smirk on her face. “I don’t think either of them would appreciate it.”

“They… are they…?” Fred didn’t even know what to say about it.

Andromeda shrugged. “I think we had best let them figure it out before we try to,” she said. “Now come along.”

“Where are we going?” Fred asked as the woman headed off toward the office of House Lupin. It was obvious where they were going, but he wasn’t sure what for.

“To celebrate, of course. Everyone else has forgotten about young Lord Lupin, and he deserves some attention, too.”

“Is that right, Mr. Teddy?” Fred asked in a sing-song voice, grabbing the little hand that thrust out over his grandmother’s shoulder just before his head popped up to grin toothlessly at Fred.

Andromeda let them into the office she had appointed with pictures of the family — mostly herself and Ted, Remus and Tonks, and a few with tiny baby Teddy with them. Fred felt a surge of sadness that there would never be any other family photos for the laughing baby.

“It’s no time for that,” Andromeda scolded as she handed him a glass of firewhisky. “To Remus Lupin, and the better treatment of all types of werewolves.”

“All types?” Fred asked after taking his swig of whisky.

“Under the old legislation, Teddy would have been considered a werewolf. And people like Bill, as well as the werewolves who turn on the full moon.”

“Oh,” Fred said, feeling a little stupid. “I thought you meant some turned into other creatures or something.”

“Not in Britain, but I’ve read of such things in other parts of the world,” Andromeda said with a shrug. She had turned those shrugs into an art form and Fred loved it. He wanted to add them to his repertoire. “Now, I want you to tell me about the trick you pulled on that old Greengrass goat.”

“What? I didn’t—”

She leveled a stare at him that he was sure Andromeda had perfected while mothering Tonks. He was used to his own mother’s tactics, and these weren’t far off, but… Fred found himself explaining anyway.

And whenever Andromeda laughed, so did little Teddy. So they spent their whole recess in her office getting drunk off firewhisky — milk for Teddy — and laughing their heads off.

Chapter 54

Notes:

Sorry to leave you on such a cliffhanger for so long! *evil laughter* Okay, you're right. I'm not all that sorry. But it was very mean of me and I *should* be sorry.

It is Monday, June 8th. I've been asked to include the date more often since so much happens in such a short period of time, but I tend to be so excited to get these chapters out that I forget. Keep chastising me for it. I need the reminders. LOL And yes, I agree that an insane amount of stuff has happened in such a short time period, but keep in mind that every chapter only covers a day, and some days last a couple of chapters when they are particularly full. I hope to do some time skipping in the near future if things will settle down for them soon, but no promises.

Thank you to my amazing team who helps me keep track of all the details and makes this the best possible story for all of you! Any mistakes are wholly mine, however. They can only contain my chaos so much.

Hermione was grinning at Bill as he led her back to the office of House Weasley. None of the others had tried to get their attention — or perhaps they had just failed — and Bill was thankful they were giving him and Hermione some space. He wanted to celebrate with her. She had been odd and a little distant this morning, but he knew her focus was back on him now.

The moment he closed the door, Hermione was crowding him against it. “You were brilliant!” she said as her arms flung around his neck and she pulled him down by his tie, kissing his lips. Her tongue eased along the seam of his lips and Bill gladly opened for her, happy to let her in.

Bill loved her effort to dominate the kiss, and at first he let her. This recess was long enough, after all, to take their time. He knew that elsewhere people would be celebrating with drinks, like he imagined Harry, Andromeda, and Fred were doing.

“Focus,” Hermione hissed against his lips, then grabbed his ponytail, pulling it back to expose his throat to her. That was taking the domination too far for his wolf.

Before she could blink, Bill spun them around so that it was Hermione pressed against the door, panting for the breath he wouldn’t let her have, covering her mouth with his own before she even had a chance to whimper.

His tongue possessed her mouth, pressing hers back, making her submit. Bill rarely let the wolf have full control, but he was desperate to bend her to his will all of a sudden. “Hermione,” he moaned against her as he nipped and sucked at her lower lip.

“You did so good,” she gasped. “You are so good.”

“So good you want me right here, right now?” he offered.

“We can’t right now,” she whined. “The recess isn’t long enough.”

“I assure you it is,” Bill argued as he used a word of magic to place their clothes in neat piles on his office sofa. Hermione gasped at her unexpected nudity pressed next to his. Bill’s cock was pressed between them, weeping on her stomach. “Are you wet for me?”

“After a kiss like that? How could I be anything but?” she asked.

“Let me feel,” he said, though words were unnecessary. She would let him, her hips had already widened as she spread her legs out as much as her position against the door would allow. Bill’s fingers dipped to her core, a sly grin spreading across his face when he felt how slick she was. “Do you want me to stretch you out, or will you be a good girl and just take all of me right now?”

“I’ll be good for you,” Hermione whimpered. Her eyes were glazed with lust, pupils blown. Merlin, Bill loved to see her like this. He kissed her again, ravenously, as his hand fisted his cock, lining it up with her entrance.

She cried out as he slammed into her, burying himself all the way to the hilt. Her cry became a delicious moan as he pulled immediately back out and did it again. Bill wasn’t in the mood for gentle love-making at the moment. He wanted her hard and fast. He wanted her to come apart around him more quickly than she ever had before.

“Accio wand,” he spoke, holding out one hand.

“What?” Hermione asked him with a glazed expression.

“You’ll see,” Bill replied. When his wand was in hand, he pushed himself all the way back in, holding her body up off the floor with the force of his cock inside her. He loved the way the position made her rely completely on him.

And he loved the way she gasped and writhed on him when he touched his wand tip to her clit and whispered, “Volvebatur.”

Bill didn’t blame her. Even he could feel the vibrations emanating from the tip of the wand.. He could only imagine what it felt like against her like that.

“Oh Merlin, please, Bill! That’s too much! I’m going to come already!”

“Good,” he said with a smirk. “Come on my cock and don’t stop coming until I tell you you can.”

“I… I couldn’t stop if I wanted to,” she gasped, her cunt helplessly spasming around Bill’s cock. He could tell she was right on the first edge, so he urged the wand to vibrate harder.

Hermione screamed, falling apart just like he wanted her to. He was not merciful like she had hoped, either. He continued to press his wand to her, forcing another three orgasms before he let himself go, fucking her hard into the door before spurting his seed inside her. Even then, Bill wrung one final orgasm from her before he pulled the wand away and stopped its not so tender assault.

She was gasping as he gathered her in his arms, taking her over to the sofa and snuggling down with her. “Are you okay?” Bill asked after a moment of her still struggling to catch her breath.

“I… That was unexpected from you, Bill,” she said, almost delicately, like she was afraid to hurt his feelings.

“I know I’m not Percy, but when the wolf wants to play, I’m afraid I’m more dominant than usual, you know.”

“I do know,” she agreed. “I just wasn’t expecting it for some reason this morning.”

“What’s going on?” he asked softly, petting her arm and shoulder. Bill could tell that she had been distracted all morning, even as they had worked together on the last few important things they had needed to get done for his legislation to have any hope of passing.

“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted. “Something feels off. Maybe not in a bad way, but different. I can’t figure out what it is.”

“Some days just feel different,” he said, leaning over to kiss her shoulder. Only, when he got so close, he noticed a soft glow on the back of the couch behind her. “What’s this?” he asked, pulling her forward and seeing the glow go with her.

Bill leveraged his body above her, looking down at her back to see what was creating that effect. “Merlin, Hermione! You have a tattoo!”

“What? I can’t have,” she argued.

“You do… a gold, glowing… dragon. Charlie’s soulmate mark.” Bill couldn’t be sure how he felt about it at this moment. Perhaps his wolf had sensed it, perhaps that was the reason he had so badly needed to claim her like this.

“But how?” she asked, sounding almost frightened. “I don’t turn 19 until September.”

“Apparently that’s not true somehow,” Bill said, gently this time, as he traced the tattoo lightly with his finger. The way it glowed,he would have thought it hurt her. The tattoo looked molten right now, but she sighed happily at his touch on it. He could only imagine it reacted so well because they were brothers, but wondered how much better it would feel for her when it was Charlie’s finger tracing it.

“The time turner!” Hermione suddenly said, sitting up so fast she nearly bumped his head. “Using it aged me by a few months. I would have to do the math to be sure, but I can’t think of anything else that would have had such an effect.”

“Charlie’s going to be so happy,” Bill said with a smile. This explained so much about the relationship between the two. And now that his wolf had the chance to claim her “first” today, he could be happy for his brother.

“He will,” Hermione said somewhat absently before looking up at him with wide eyes. “Oh Merlin! I need to tell him — fast — before he finds out that his has changed and freaks out!”

“Merlin, he’ll be halfway to Romania if he notices it before you get to him,” Bill said as he helped her off the sofa. “You should skip the rest of the day, go to him. There is nothing else too exciting for the rest of the day. It’s just a lot of reports.”

“It’s still my duty to listen,” Hermione pointed out, but he could tell by the look in her eye that she was deeply tempted.

“I’ll tell everyone there was a family emergency you’re handling. If you really want to, you could even come back once you find him and tell him.”

As she hastily pulled her clothes on, Hermione reached up and kissed him. “Bill, you mean so much to me. Thank you for this.”

“Anytime, my love. Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything,” she replied automatically.

“This time you will take a guard with you. They can come straight back once they’ve done a safety check when you’re at Emberhaven, but no one goes out alone.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but nodded. “I’ll just be walking through the lobby to the floo, but if it makes you feel better.”

“It does,” he said as he watched her rush out the door with a delighted smile on her face, grabbing an Auror on her way out.

********

George looked up from stocking shelves when he heard the door fling open hard enough that it hit the (thankfully sturdy) shelf behind it. Whoever it was didn’t even stop to see if anything was harmed. Thinking he was about to tell off some reckless kid, George started for the front, only to hear Hermione’s panicked voice as he got closer.

“Lee, is George here? More importantly, has Charlie been in?”

Lee was still blinking in confusion when George got close enough to say, “I’m here. What’s wrong? Aren’t you supposed to be at the Wizengamot today?” She was wearing a prim blouse and pencil skirt, so he was almost certain he was right. Especially since he knew Fred was there, too.

He tried to calm his breathing. If Fred wasn’t with her, then this couldn’t be as intense a problem as it seemed. Unless Fred…

“It’s Charlie!” Hermione said. “He… I need to show him… but he’s not in any of the places I’ve thought to look. And he knows!”

“Knows what?” George asked, bewildered. “Slow down, love, and explain it to me. What do you need to show him?”

To his surprise, Hermione started unbuttoning her blouse right in the middle of the store.

“Hermione, what—?”

“I’m showing you what I need to show him.” When she had a few buttons undone, she dropped the blouse over her shoulder, turning and pulling her hair away from the bare shoulder as well, so that he could see a beautiful golden, glowing tattoo.

“His soulmate mark!” George gasped, understanding. Then understanding even more, he groaned. “And it’s not time for it yet, so he’s likely found out his changed, and run off.”

Hermione was rebuttoning her blouse, with tears running down her cheeks as she said, “Yes, he likely has, like he promised he wouldn’t do. But we don’t know…”

“Don’t know what?” George asked, dread gathering in the pit of his stomach.

She bit her lip. “We don’t know that he’s run away again. He could be missing. The Death Eaters could have him.” Hermione was whispering by the time she finished talking, and her tears were coming fast.

George wasted no time pulling her into his arms. “Hermione, love, it’s going to be okay. We’ll find him. Where have you looked?”

“All over Emberhaven — I even made her mad because I think she was trying to tell me that he wasn’t there, but I looked everywhere anyway. And he’s been so sweet, George. Up in my tower, not only has he built me the most beautiful desk, but there’s a bed up there, too. Just for me. In case I need to be alone. He thought of everything I might want or need and provided it.”

“He knows you well,” George agreed, then urged her, “where else have you checked?”

“His office at Hogwarts, then I spoke with Minerva. He was there this morning working with Ollie and this bloke named Danny, but he wasn’t with them when they came back in. They told her he left a bit before lunch, but didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t see any reason to question them about it at the time. She is going to try to get in touch with them and find out more.”

“Okay, slow down a little,” George urged as he slowly walked her toward the back room. There was no need to let her have a panic attack out here when they had a comfy sofa in the back. “How do you have a tattoo that only appears on your 19th birthday when it’s in September? Secret identity we don’t know about?”

“No, nothing like that,” she said, then her eyes widened. “I mean, I don’t think—”

“I was only teasing,” George said, lowering them both to sit. “You had an explanation already. I could see it in your eyes.”

“I do,” she said, taking a deep breath. “My third year, I had a time turner.”

George rolled his eyes and slapped his own forehead. “I should have remembered that.”

“Wait. You knew I had a time turner?” she gasped.

“Anyone with eyes could see it,” he told her. “We just have two sets of eyes that can be in two places at once, so we could be doubly sure there were two of you sometimes.”

“You never said—”

“It was never important. You’re brilliant. Of course they arranged it for you. Percy had one for a couple of years as well. It’s not as uncommon as they probably make it seem. But… it actually aged you?”

“Apparently,” Hermione said. “It’s the only possible explanation for me being older by a few months.”

“You must have used that thing constantly,” George said, shaking his head.

“About nine hours a day, honestly.”

“NINE!? What in the world for, woman?”

“It was a busy year,” Hermione said, turning her nose up just a little and making George smile at the reminder of her younger self.

“Apparently,” he agreed. Feeling successful that he had calmed her somewhat with distraction, George said. “Okay. So we’ve checked the house and Hogwarts. But we probably haven’t explored things like Emberhaven’s grounds—”

“I checked the barns,” she interjected.

“Good. But there’s still a lot of land. And there’s the Forbidden Forest. And, while I know it seems unlikely, there’s the Burrow and the lands around it. He has old haunts he likes to go to. We’ll find him, Hermione. But we need more searchers. I’ll close the shop. Let’s go to the Burrow and get more. I’ll floo Minerva, too, and see if she can get people in the Forbidden Forest and if she’s heard from Ollie and that other fellow. Have you sent a patronus to Charlie?”

“A Patronus?” she echoed, then slapped her forehead. “I didn’t even think—”

“You don’t have to think of everything. Here. I’ll do it.”

When he was done, Hermione said, “Thank you, George,” as she dabbed at her eyes. “I can’t even think straight.”

“Don’t worry, love. This is what the family is for. We won’t rest until we know where he is.”

********

Molly and Hermione sat in the Burrow, each nursing a cup of tea and trying not to hyperventilate. The search now included all the staff and volunteers at Hogwarts, everyone from the shop, everyone she and Aunt Muriel knew amongst the older crowd, all their friends and family from the Wizengamot, and there was still no sign of him.

Suddenly, the floo whooshed and Molly nearly dropped her teacup, hoping it was Charlie. Her second baby, not that she had treated him like the precious, wonderful man he now was, but she was going to do better.

Molly sighed in disappointment that it was Minerva and Oliver Wood who had come through, but hurried to welcome them in. The older witch looked exhausted and worried. Oliver looked confused and worried.

“I finally found one of them,” Minerva said. “Haven’t had time to explain except that it’s about Charlie.”

“Do you know where he is?” Hermione asked desperately.

“No,” Oliver answered, “he apparated straight away.”

“Why? What happened just before?” Molly asked. She had been out searching herself earlier — they all had — but had been sent to wait for news when she became too distraught, just like Hermione.

“He took off his shirt and we saw that his tattoo was glowing,” Oliver explained.

Hermione groaned. “He knows.”

“That’s okay,” Molly soothed. “It’s a good thing. It means he’s just run away and hasn’t been taken.”

“But he’s alone,” Hermione said, her voice sounding hollow. Molly put a hand on her arm, squeezing just enough to let the girl know she was there for her.

“Bill will find him,” Molly said, trying to sound confident. “He and Kingsley are arranging a portkey. If Charlie’s gone to Romania, you know Bill will find him.”

“But what if he hasn’t?” Hermione asked.

Molly shook her head. Where else would he be? They had searched everywhere. She refused to think that a Death Eater had him. Not when this was a classic Charlie move. She remembered little Charlie, just a few years old, hiding rather than facing his older brother’s ire when he broke a toy by accident. Her second son had never dealt well with emotional conflict.

It hurt Molly’s heart to realize she had become a source of conflict he ran from, but she couldn’t deny it any longer. Yes, he loved dragons, but there was a reason he had chosen to work so far away. When he came back, when they found him and got this soulmark business straightened out, Molly was going to do better. She was going to stop pushing him, stop nitpicking him. She had done a disservice to all her children by not truly listening to any of them.

Realizing she hadn’t answered Hermione’s plaintive question yet, Molly nodded, “Then we’ll find him here.”

“We would have already,” Hermione insisted.

Molly sighed. “Charlie’s very good at not being found when he doesn’t want to be. Even if a Death Eater were after him, he would get away.”

“You can’t just run from a Death Eater,” Hermione said, her voice tinged with bitterness. Molly didn’t blame her. She was no doubt feeling the need to have her soulmate near, now that the mark had manifested. And to know, on top of that, that he had promised he wouldn’t run off again? She would be upset, too. But there had to be something Molly could say to help.

“No, but he’s no slouch with a wand either. And he has a soulmate to come home to. He wouldn’t let them take him without a fight.”

“But he thinks it’s the wrong soulmate,” Hermione pointed out.

“His magic still knows he has something worth fighting for. And his head knows he has you at home, soulmate or not. He’ll get his head out of his arse eventually.”

Hermione snorted in surprise at Molly’s words. It was an improvement.

********

Exhaustion crept through Ron’s very bones as he made his way through the floo to Emberhaven for dinner. He was somehow not expecting the explosion of chaos he walked into.

“Ron!” Ginny shrieked, tears running down her cheeks. Oh Merlin, was she still on some kind of wedding campaign? “Is there any news?”

“News?” he parroted back. “All the leads I had on Death Eaters today proved false or they were already gone, if that’s what you’re asking.”

She looked at him like he had grown a second head, as did the various others who had gathered in the room — Fred and George, Harry, Fleur. “I meant about Charlie,” Ginny said, wringing her hands together.

Ron blinked. “What about Charlie? What’s going on?”

“The Aurors didn’t tell you?” George asked.

“They told me lots of things today, but nothing about Charlie. What’s wrong with him?” Ron asked, worried.

“He’s missing,” Hermione said as she walked in the room, tears streaking down her face as well.

“Missing?” Ron repeated. “Why don’t you all start at the beginning? When did this happen?”

“This morning, well, shortly before lunch,” Hermione said, looking more upset as she said it.

Ron couldn’t worry about her, though, especially since the twins were coming up on either side to comfort her. “My brother’s been missing since before noon, the Aurors knew, and no one has said anything to me all day?”

“It seems that way,” Fred said with a warning look. “Now did you want to hear what we know or not?”

“I do,” Ron growled, irritated that they were making it seem like he was being unreasonable. He had been busy all day. It wasn’t his fault the Aurors hadn’t told him. His own family could have reached out, too. At least a bloody owl.

“Oliver was the last to see him this morning, working at Hogwarts,” Hermione said, sniffling. “They discovered his soulmate tattoo had turned gold.”

“Oh Merlin,” Ron said. “He’s run off, hasn’t he? Upset you’re not his soulmate.”

“I am his soulmate,” Hermione disagreed, turning and dropping the shawl she had around her shoulders to show a brilliant golden dragon tattoo on her back. It was glowing softly.

“How?” Ron asked, confused.

“The time turner,” Harry explained. “I reckon I’m a few hours older, too, but nothing like Hermione. You know how much extra time she used third year.”

“Months worth?” Ron questioned, looking at her.

“Apparently,” she agreed.

“But Charlie doesn’t know that, does he? He ran off before checking in with you?” Ron guessed.

Hermione shook her head, but couldn’t answer through her fresh wave of tears. Fleur said, “Zat eez what we ‘ope.”

“What else would it—” he stopped himself, realizing the obvious other answer was Death Eaters. “Where’s Bill?” he asked instead.

“He’s at the International Portkey office getting a special portkey — Kingsley’s orders — and heading to Romania. Hopefully, he’ll find him there,” George explained.

“Surely there’s somewhere here he could be,” Ron said. “You’ve searched Ember, I guess?”

The house flashed her lights as though disgruntled. She clearly didn’t like the insinuation that she needed to be searched. Ron wondered idly if she would have been able to pinpoint any of their locations if need be. That could be handy.

“He’s nowhere in the house,” Fred confirmed. Patting the wall, he added, “She helped us look.” The lights steadied.

“Or at Hogwarts,” Harry said. “The whole crew helped us search there.”

“What about his dragons here?” Ron asked.

“His dragons…” Hermione trailed off. “At Gringotts! Ron, you’re brilliant! We didn’t even think of them!”

“But it’s after hours and Bill and Fleur can’t get in anymore,” Ron pointed out. “How will we find out?”

Hermione was marching toward the floo. “Won’t be the first time I’ve broken into that bank.”

Oh Merlin. He exchanged a look with Harry and they both started after her, the twins quick on their heels.

*******

Hermione led the charge down into the lower regions of the bank, the Shaman trailing along with the rest of her family. She knew they didn’t understand how she had talked their way down here, or even how she had contacted the Shaman in the first place, but she didn’t have time to explain.

She needed to find Charlie. The Shaman hadn’t been able to tell her if he was here or not, but he had been willing to let her lead the pack down to find him. Something inside told her he was close now, and she wasn’t about to stop until she could touch him.

They rode the carts most of the way down, but had stopped further up the line so they didn’t upset Dahrian or Azara. She stomped her way down, wand shaking in her hand. Though part of her was still worried, she was mostly furious at this point. If Charlie was here — wherever he was, really — she was going to give him a piece of her mind.

Rounding a corner, she almost ran straight into a pile of gold. Though there was an obvious imprint from a dragon on the top of the pile, there wasn’t one there at the moment. Hermione cursed. She had hoped he would be right here.

As she began to climb the pile of gold, she heard Shaman Gritnar shouting behind her. “Be sure that you take nothing. My kin will not take kindly to anyone stealing while you are here.”

Hermione merely grunted in reply, not caring at all that he had turned a keen eye on the rest of her family instead. All that mattered in this moment was getting to Charlie. Seeing him safe and wringing his neck.

At the top of the shifting pile of gold, she could see out into the meadow they had created for the dragons, but she still saw no sign of the dragons themselves. She slid down the far side of the pile of gold, making the coins and cups and other things clang and tinkle against one another.

She should have expected the giant dragon’s head that came swinging into view. She should have expected him to draw breath and prepare to flame. Maybe she should have even expected Charlie to appear and throw himself at the dragon. Somehow she didn’t expect any of it.

*********

Dahrian’s roar of rage was Charlie’s first indication that something was wrong. The scream that followed it was enough to stop his heart. He knew that scream. Merlin, what was Hermione doing here?

As the dragon gathered his power to flame, Charlie threw himself at his charge. “Dahrian, no!” Thank Merlin the dragon was so attached to him that he was distracted.

His flame hit the side of the cave opening, the fire missing Hermione by a few feet and going over Charlie’s head. “She’s not stealing from you, Dahr,” he shouted, relieved when the dragon turned his head down to listen. Azara had joined them, and was peering at Hermione like she was a delicious snack. “Hermione, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” she repeated. Her voice rose as she cried, “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Charlie, we’ve been looking everywhere for you! You promised. You swore you wouldn’t run away again, and here you are, running from what you think is a problem.”

“Hermione, I… You don’t know what’s happened. I don’t even know how to tell you.” Charlie hoped that the tear tracks on his face weren’t too apparent. Then again, he realized he was still crying, so he supposed they were.

“How to tell me what? That you have a soulmate? I already knew that, Charlie!” she shrieked. Actually shrieked. Charlie had never heard her be so loud before, and certainly not so shrill. “And I don’t care one bit who your soulmate is, but just for your information, it’s me. I’m your soulmate!”

“Hermione, you can’t be. Your birthday is months away,” he said, choking on a sob. He couldn’t believe it wasn’t her.

“If you would come and talk to me and see, you would know that something appeared on my back this morning!” she shouted at him. “I spent some time with a time turner in third year, and apparently I’m a bit older than I was before — by a few months.”

“You… you are?” he asked.

“Yes, you idiot!” she screamed, walking forward until she shoved him back against Dahrian, who gave a rumbling grumble and took a step back, seeming to understand that Charlie wasn’t in any actual danger.

Well, he hadn’t thought he was. Hermione stormed up to him again, this time pulling her wand and holding it under his chin. “If you ever do something like this again—”

“You’re my soulmate?” he repeated. “You have the tattoo?”

“Yes, now let me tell you what I’m going to—”

He didn’t listen to another word. Grinning ear to ear, Charlie bent away from her wand, sidestepping and then leaning down to capture her lips. Hermione beat on his chest with her fist, making angry noises as Charlie kissed her happily. It took several long moments before she melted into the kiss. He felt a tingling across his back as the tattoo undoubtedly changed again now that they were touching and accepting they were soulmates.

He had known it was her, that it had to be her. But knowing and having confirmation were two very different things, especially after spending the day thinking he had been the butt of a nasty cosmic joke.

His kiss turned soft and gentle before he finally pulled away. Hermione looked dazed. “You scared us all so much, Charlie. Why didn’t you tell someone where you were going?”

“I couldn’t bear to speak to anyone except the dragons,” he admitted. “I promised I wouldn’t run away to Romania, but Hermione… sometimes I have to have time to process. It’s just the way I work. So I came here. I still have my dragons to help me, but I planned to come home tonight.”

“You couldn’t have sent a Patronus? Or responded to one of ours?” Hermione demanded.

“You didn’t say you had the tattoo. And I couldn’t face you, couldn’t stand to see you and say I had been wrong about our connection when I could still feel it in my bones,” he said. Needing her to understand was driving him mad. With urgency, he told her, “I love you, Hermione, but it’s so much more than just that. I belong to you completely. And I would have even without the ritual. I’ve always felt drawn to you in ways I couldn’t explain. Even just wanting to be friends with you when we first met. I like kids well enough, but I don’t usually want to be friends with them.” Charlie knew he was rambling, but he wasn’t sure if she got it yet, not really.

“I understand, Charlie,” she finally cut in. “I’ve always been drawn to you, too, though I made up lots of reasons to explain it in my head. Now that I know, well, it feels right. We were always meant to be, even without the ritual. I belong to you, too, Charlie.”

“Just keep in mind she belongs to us, too,” Fred said, standing with George at the top of the heap of gold inside the cave. Dahrian was looking at them, cocking his head to the side as though he were trying to decide if they were friend or foe.

“They’re my brothers, Dahrian,” Charlie said, hoping his tone would ease the dragon back into a restful state. The last thing they needed was for him to go crazy on them now that things were okay again. Turning back to Fred and George, who were standing there watching him and Hermione, Charlie said, “I’m well aware that this doesn’t change the family’s circumstances.”

“Or my heart,” Hermione said, running a hand down his arm. “I love you. I’m connected to you so deeply, Charlie. But I have enough love to go around.”

“I know, draga. There is never enough of you for me, but you’re so much more than enough, if those two separate thoughts make any sense.” He was crying again, but this time happy tears. Charlie was overwhelmed with how much he loved her, and through her, the love he felt for his siblings was amplified rather than divided. It was bizarre, but it was their beautiful life together.

“Can we go home now?” Ron complained.

“Ron,” Harry groaned dramatically, drawing his best friend back as though he expected Hermione to charge them next.

To everyone’s surprise, she just laughed. “Yes, let’s please just go home.”

Charlie and Hermione took the time to thank Gritnar for letting them all in.

“Better than letting her break in — again,” Gritnar grumbled, but Charlie was fairly certain the look on his face was supposed to be a fond smile.

The entire way back, through the cart ride and even the floo, Charlie didn’t let go of his soulmate. He hoped his siblings would be understanding about him hauling Hermione off the moment they got home. Because he had no intention of making small talk. Or of letting her go. Thank Merlin she was clinging to him just as hard.

Emberhaven lit up when he stepped into the room. He could practically hear her welcoming him home. His siblings, however, didn’t look so understanding, now that they were all back in the safety of the house and he had been hugged within an inch of his life by Molly.

“You had us worried sick,” Bill said. “And the entirety of wizarding society was out searching for you.”

“I was just—”

“We all know what you were doing Charlie,” George said gravely.

To his surprise, Fred added, “And we even get it.”

“But you went alone without telling anyone where you were,” they said together.

Getting scolded by the twins was oddly intense and Charlie felt bad. Until Percy opened his mouth and said, “The Minister is quite put out.”

“The Minister was involved?” Charlie asked in surprise.

“We needed him for an emergency international portkey approval,” Bill explained.

“And this search interrupted a working dinner we had planned,” Percy muttered.

“A working dinner?” Fred quipped. “Is that what you call it?”

“It’s what we have to call it if we want to be alone,” Percy snapped. “I haven’t seen him in anything beyond a professional capacity since I was in hospital. We’re surrounded by Aurors. We can’t…” he trailed off in frustration.

Charlie felt for him, he really did. But another part of him didn’t care about any of this. Hermione was pressed against his side, not saying anything, and he knew she felt the need, too.

“I’m sorry I disrupted your plans,” Charlie told Percy. “If there is anything I can do to make your next plan easier, let me know.”

“And you have nothing to say for yourself about running off?” Bill demanded.

“I didn’t go to Romania and I was headed home soon anyway. I need time to work through things sometimes. This was a big thing.”

“It was,” Ron agreed, “But you could have told Oliver where you were going before you left. At least then someone would have known.”

“Can we talk about this later?” Hermione asked.

“Don’t you want him to understand—” Ginny started, looking puzzled.

“Of course,” she replied. “But we can make him understand in the morning.” Her tone made it clear this wasn’t up for debate, and Charlie felt intensely relieved. With Hermione voicing his feelings, he knew they would be allowed to go much sooner.

It was Bill who huffed and said, “Fine, but this conversation isn’t over.”

“Of course,” Charlie agreed. Anything to get them out of this room.

Ember turned the stairs into a ramp for them, and Charlie ran up it, picking Hermione up when she couldn’t keep up with his long strides. He might be the shortest of the Weasley brothers, but he wasn’t short compared to her.

He had them inside his room in record time, carrying her straight to the bed and gently putting her down.

“Are you going to let me have you tonight?” she asked. “All of you?”

He hesitated, remembering his size for the first time this evening. Charlie wasn’t sure if he had ever completely forgotten about it before. “If that’s what you want, draga,” he agreed. How could he deny her?

“It is,” she told him, the look in her eyes was pure happiness. She reached up as he hovered over her, and began working his shirt off.

“Eager?” he asked with a laugh.

“I need to touch it,” she told him and Charlie knew exactly what she meant.

“If I get to touch yours, too.”

“Of course,” Hermione laughed, already pulling off her tank top.

When he turned around for her and sat on the bed, he felt her crawl up behind him, and he swore he could feel her reaching closer until her fingertips were tracing the tattoo on his back — their tattoo — and he could feel it come to life.

The shiver that went down his spine went straight to his groin. Charlie wasn’t sure there had ever been a time when he was so fully turned on so fast, his monstrous cock already feeling like it might burst if she so much as touched him again, anywhere.

And she wasn’t done, of course. The tattoo must be moving now, because her finger traced all over his back, his ability to anticipate her next move becoming more deeply ingrained the longer she touched him. Finally, Charlie couldn’t take it anymore.

He turned, catching her hand and pulling her so that she was almost in his lap. The kiss they shared was electric. He felt almost whole in a way he never had before. Almost.

His hand worked along her back until he found the tattoo. Without seeing it, without breaking their kiss, he traced the tattoo and felt it come alive beneath his fingers. Suddenly, as they kissed, that feeling of completion solidified.

Charlie could sense her in a whole new way. Every touch was amplified. He could feel himself touching her just as surely as she touched him. It was like he was in both of their bodies at once. From the sound of surprise Hermione made, he guessed she was experiencing it, too.

Drawing back, he saw the wonder in her eyes. “Charlie,” she whimpered. “I never knew how much…” Her hand touched just over his heart, as though to finish the sentence, and he knew she meant that she hadn’t known he loved her so deeply.

He could feel the depth of her emotions for him, too, and knew in a way he hadn’t before that he meant just as much to her as she had always meant to him. They stared into one another’s eyes for a long moment, the feeling so intimate as they each adjusted to feeling each other that they didn’t even want to move.

Then his cock twitched and Hermione laughed. “What do you think it will feel like to be together completely?” she asked. Even though they were alone, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Why don’t we find out?” Charlie suggested.

She ran her hand down his chest, making them both shudder with the feeling. Charlie carefully moved to kiss her neck, then began working down her chest as his hands worked her skirt off her body and her fingers fumbled with his trousers until they were both naked.

Pushing her gently back onto the bed, Charlie had a very nude Hermione lying under him begging for his cock. He laughed. “You know you’re not ready for it.”

“I’m so wet,” she argued. He wondered if she could feel how badly he wanted her, wanted to do just what she said and go straight in. He wanted to sink into her and connect them forever.

But instead, he knelt on the floor between her legs and began to feast. Charlie wasn’t at all prepared for how that would affect him. Yes, he knew that doing it was a huge turn on even when he wasn’t so on edge. But he was wholly unprepared for what it actually felt like from her side.

He came so hard he had to stop moving his tongue, just breathing in her scent as both their bodies shook, her orgasm coming fast on the edge of his. For long moments, both of them cried out. Charlie groaned when his cock finally stopped spurting and her quivering shifted down. He had ruined it by coming too soon.

“I’m sorry,” he started.

“Don’t you dare,” Hermione said, leaning up on her elbows. “That felt unbelievable. And I can’t believe you came from that.”

“I can feel it — the way it feels for you when I do that, when I do anything.”

“I feel the same,” she confirmed. “That’s how I know you’re already getting hard again.”

Charlie blinked. She was right. He had never recovered so fast before, but she was absolutely right. “Must be magic,” he suggested, then ran his tongue experimentally around her clit, shuddering as he did. His cock hardened even more. “I don’t think I can go down on you very long or I’ll come again,” he admitted.

“That’s okay. I want you. Let me touch you,” she begged.

“As long as I can work on opening you up while you do,” Charlie bargained.

“Get up here,” she said in answer, pulling his hand so that he climbed up onto the bed.

Hermione started touching him gently, just running her fingers lightly up and down his cock before twisting around the tip. Charlie groaned and so did she. It took all of his willpower to remember he was supposed to be working on her, too.

He began to work his fingers into her dripping cunt, eliciting a moan from each of them. He had never experienced an ache to be filled, or the all consuming feeling of it happening but still not being enough. Charlie enthusiastically added a second finger, knowing without a doubt that she was ready for it.

When she responded by running a hand down around her own pussy, coating it with juices, then gripping him and sliding up and down his cock, Charlie was afraid he might come again.

“You really like that,” Hermione gasped.

“Yes,” he gritted out, trying to think of anything that would keep him from losing it. He slid another finger into her, desperate to have her ready for him.

“I think you could push into me now,” Hermione suggested, but Charlie shook his head. Not yet, no matter how much they both wanted it, how close he was to losing control.

He thought hard about potions ingredients and added his fourth finger, scissoring all of them to stretch her. The feeling nearly undid him and Hermione was close as well. He didn’t dare touch her clit or they would both come.

Finally, he was sure she could take him and they climbed further up the bed in sync, not needing words to convey thoughts between them. Charlie felt like he might lose his mind if he wasn’t inside her in the next few seconds.

Holding his base in the hopes that squeezing would keep him from losing it until he was fully inside her, Charlie lined himself up. As usual, he had a moment of trepidation that there was no way he could do this without hurting her.

This time, however, he felt her soothing words from inside as well as hearing them. “I’m ready, Charlie. I’ve taken you before, and I love it. Please, please do it now.”

He pushed in slowly, feeling the way she stretched around him, and the way it felt to be stretched. “I’m hurting you,” he said through his teeth, trying to hold on as he started to pull back out.

Hermione’s hand caught him at the base of his cock. “Don’t you dare. It’s a good hurt. Push harder and faster. Please.” Her begging undid him, and Charlie went back to pushing in, feeling like his heart might give out for how fast it was beating as he pushed in as deeply as he could go.

Just having her tight pussy squeezing around him was divine, and he could feel, both in the way she was arching toward him and from what he could feel himself, that she felt the same about having him buried inside her.

She squeezed her muscles harder, more intentionally, and gasped at how it felt to him, both of them pushed infinitely closer to a mind-blowing orgasm.

When he could speak, Charlie asked, “It won’t take much. How do we want to end this?”

“Pull out and push back in, then finger my clit when you’re all the way,” she commanded decisively, sending a shudder through his — and therefore her — body at the tone. “Hmmm. I’ll keep in mind that you like that,” she noted as he began to pull out.

Both of them moaned at the slide of his cock moving, then gasped when he got to the end and pushed back in. His fingers went to her clit before he got all the way in, circling around it before, at just the right moment, sliding over it.

Hermione screamed and Charlie roared, both of them coming apart completely. He wasn’t sure he had ever come so hard, or that he could again. And the feeling of completeness, of finally being whole, settled in his soul.

Together, they were as they had always been meant to be.

Notes:

Yes, you're all very smart. I had great faith that many of you would figure it out ahead of time, but I hope you enjoyed the slight suspense anyway.

So here's my math:
If I counted correctly, there are 276 days from September 1st-June3rd.
She used the time turner for 9 hours/day which equals an extra 2484 hours.
Divide that by 24 hours/day and you get an extra 103 days added to her life.
103 days before September 19th is June 8th.

Is it possible I screwed up the math? Very.
Do I really think she used the time turner for 9 hours every single day? No, but did you want to wait another 400k words to get to her birthday and the resolution of this particular plotline? I didn't.

Chapter 55

Notes:

I haven't been able to write the last couple of days, but I managed to do some editing, so you all get the benefit of a new chapter - finally! I apologize for the wait. I really struggled with what to put in this one after I had been building to the Charlie/Hermione soulmate plotline for so long (in my head at least, I don't know if it felt that way for y'all).

Thank you as always to my amazing team that makes this fic possible. I seriously never would have gotten this chapter written without them.

On a different note, I am now working on becoming an author of original works, specifically reverse harems, planning to publish my first novel in the spring of 2025. If you would like to follow my progress and be alerted when the book is ready, please go to my (very rudimentary - I don't know what I'm doing, y'all) website, www.millieebbenflow.com and join my newsletter!

Fleur practically floated around the kitchen as she prepared breakfast and set out the hangover potions. After the day they’d had yesterday, everyone was likely to need both. Well, everyone but Hermione and Charlie. The two of them worked off the tension of the day in other ways.

For that matter, so had she and Bill, but only because she dragged him away from drowning his sorrows. He had wanted to get bloody smashed. It was so close to the full moon that he was moody, but she knew how to use that to her advantage. As she had expected, the wolfy part of him had responded to her just the way she had hoped.

If they were lucky, this time she would be pregnant.

There was a lurching sound on the stairs and she peeked her head around the corner to see who had awoken first. It was no surprise that it was Percy, but his disheveled appearance was certainly unusual. She handed him the hangover potion without a word. He took it gratefully.

“Thank Merlin,” he muttered as he puttered around the kitchen fixing a plate for himself. It was only when he turned to go to the table that he blinked, staring at her.

“Good morning, Fleur. Were you there the whole time?”

Snickering, Fleur nodded. “I gave you ze potion.”

He put the plate down on the table and rubbed his face.

“Merlin, you did, didn’t you?” In a very un-Percy-like way, he began to inhale his food. “Forgive me,” he said. “I need a shower before I actually go to work and I’m running late. But I needed to find a potion.”

“You’re not the only one,” Ron groaned, going to swipe one of the bottles as Percy disappeared back up the stairs. “Robards is going to kill me. If I don’t kill him first.”

“Why are you keeling your boss?” Fleur asked, amused.

“For not telling me about Charlie yesterday. I could have helped you much earlier in the day if I had been informed,” Ron said after he downed the potion.

That certainly would have been better. She couldn’t believe they had all forgotten the Gringotts dragons. It was the panic of the situation, the assumption Charlie had run away to Romania, and the fear that it could be something far more sinister.

Hermione had been frantic and it stirred everyone else into a frenzy as well. Fleur understood — a bond like that, once it manifested, would be very difficult to ignore. And if you thought your soulmate was in danger? Well, Fleur knew how she would feel about her mates being in danger.

She just hoped things went smoothly with the rest of the family, the twins especially. They hadn’t seemed happy last night. She knew that, though he wasn’t expressing it, Bill was worried as well. They were being ridiculous, of course. Hermione would still love them all, soulmate or not.

Lost in thought, Fleur jumped as Bill slipped his arms around her, pulling her into a possessive kiss. Tonight was the full moon and he was undoubtedly going to claim her again as soon as he could.

“What are your plans for ze day?” she asked him. Maybe they could get started as soon as everyone left. There were advantages to no longer working for the bank and being off for the summer.

“I have some paperwork to complete about the legislation from yesterday,” he told her regretfully. “And some other arrangements to make. Then Minerva has asked for my help up at Hogwarts.”

Sighing, Fleur nodded. “She asked for mine as well.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Bill replied, his lips close to her ear, “If we’d had time for a moment to ourselves, I wouldn’t have let you leave the bed today.”

“And zis would be bad een what way, mon ami?” Fleur asked, rubbing her body seductively against him.

“That’s enough of that,” Ginny snapped grumpily, looking like she might actually walk over and tear them away from each other.

Fleur frowned. “I know you deed not drink last night. Are you okay zis morning, Ginny?”

The teen flopped into a chair and began filling a plate. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not acting very fine,” Bill observed.

“Well, I am,” she stubbornly returned.

“Then you will kindly speak with more decorum to me and to my wife, whom I know you actually do care about,” Bill said, putting a little family magic behind it if Fleur’s instincts were right.

Ginny’s eyes widened. “What was that?”

“A little trick Aunt Muriel taught me,” Bill said calmly. “To help with unruly family members.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to be unruly! I’m just scared Hermione isn’t going to want me anymore. Isn’t anyone else afraid of that?”

“We are,” Fred said, with his twin nodding beside him in the doorway. They both stumbled to the hangover potions and drank gratefully.

“You shouldn’t be,” Ginny grumbled. “The two of you are bonded soulmates. She can’t get away from you!”

“Oh, that makes it better,” George snorted.

“You are all being ridiculous,” Fleur told them, rolling her eyes dramatically. “‘Ermione loves all of you, all of us. Yes, eet seems she and Charlie were always meant to find each uzzer, but eet weel not change ‘oo ‘Ermione eez.”

“Trust me, it hasn’t,” Charlie said from the kitchen door. He had a calm look about him, like he had somehow settled into himself overnight in a way he had never been before.

“What are you doing down here?” Fred asked, clearly surprised to see him.

“I drew a bath for Hermione. She needed some alone time this morning.” With a chagrined look, he added, “I’m still in trouble.”

“As you should be,” Fleur admonished, glad when Charlie nodded in agreement.

“I know.” Looking around at everyone, he added, “I won’t be keeping her to myself, you know. I understand why you’re worried and, well, I can’t say I wouldn’t love for her and I to be just the two of us, but… that’s not how things are and I would never try to take her away from people she loves who love her just as much.” He blew out a breath after that speech and Fleur knew it had been a hard thing to say.

“See,” she said encouragingly to everyone. “‘E wouldn’t take ‘er away.”

Ginny looked visibly relieved, and she could feel Bill’s tension leave his body behind her. Fred still seemed a bit skeptical, but George was nodding.

Percy, who had stepped into the room, now ready for work, gave Charlie a happy smile and a squeeze on the shoulder. “Thank you for that, Charlie,” he acknowledged. “Now I’d best be going. I have a… meeting with Kingsley tonight, so I won’t be home for dinner.”

“A meeting?” Fred questioned, a gleam in his eye.

“With the man you’re spending the whole day with?” George chimed in.

It was Ginny who grinned and added, “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

She laughed when Percy turned around with a rather shark-like grin and said, “As a matter of fact, it is.” The rest joined the laughter after getting over their initial surprise.

Fleur smiled as everyone devolved into happy conversation about what their day would hold now. The tension in the room had fled and her family was content.

********

Robards was in his office when Ron marched up to it, rapping hard on the doorframe. He wanted to let the man know his actions the day before hadn’t been okay, but he realized that being disrespectful about it would be a bad idea.

“Come in,” called the gruff voice from inside.

If he were less of a Gryffindor, Ron might have been slightly intimidated by that tone, might have reconsidered the wisdom of standing up to his boss. But he was enough of one, though, that he burst into the room and greeted Robards with, “It wasn’t right for you to withhold that my brother was missing.”

Robards set down the quill he had been using and gave Ron a visual once over. Apparently he had his uniform looking well enough for once, because there was approval in Robards’ eyes. He took his time but finally said, “That’s not up to you.”

“I’m aware,” Ron growled. “But I’m telling you it was the wrong call. The Aurors spent time yesterday helping search for a missing person I knew well enough that I figured out where they were within half an hour of finally being aware they were gone. And no one — not my family or the Aurors involved — thought of sending him a patronus. That should be common practice.”

There was another long pause, but Ron didn’t back down. He was right. They both knew it and he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

“We are not in the practice of pulling in recruits when they have valuable learning tasks—”

“There is nothing valuable about chasing down rumors we know are dead ends. And I could have been here helping—”

“You could have been,” Robards cut in. “And perhaps it would have been just as valuable. But you were already on assignment, Weasley.”

“But—”

“You are right,” the Head Auror suddenly said, bringing Ron to a stuttering halt.

“What?”

“You are right that you would have been the right person for the job. You did know the subject best and would have saved us time. But you’re not an Auror yet so you weren’t on call for this kind of assignment. Plus, with a vested interest, we sometimes make the call to keep a relative out of it.”

“That’s stupid,” Ron said.

“So is telling your boss he’s wrong,” Robards observed drily.

“I won’t be a yes man.”

“You are aware that as an Auror you will, in fact, be legally obligated to follow orders?”

“If I’m expected to follow orders, you better believe I will speak up when the orders are wrong.”

Robards gave him a long look before nodding. “That attitude won’t always serve you well in office politics.” Ron started to protest, but his boss pinned him with a stare. “But it will make you a damn good Auror. Now get out of my office.”

*******

“I’m sorry I left so abruptly yesterday,” Charlie apologized as soon as he arrived in the Headmistress’ office. He knew he owed it to everyone.

“Needing to leave is fine,” Minerva said in more of a Scottish brogue than he was used to hearing. “We can’t even expect you to inform us where you’re going. But do tell someone, Charles. You know you have people who care about you, worry about you. I hope you don’t need me to tell you that I’m among them.”

Taken aback, Charlie wasn’t sure what to say. “I hadn’t realized—”

“Well, now you know. Do better.”

“Of course,” he answered. “Now what work do you have for me today?”

“Working when you’ve only just found your soulmate?” Minerva asked in surprise.

“She might be a bit angry with me,” Charlie explained. “She might have other things planned for today and told me in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t dedicating two days strictly to one person when there is still so much going on.

Minerva laughed. “That girl is moving mountains, and the wizarding world will be all the better for it.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Charlie said with what he knew was a love struck smile. “She’s already making it better every day.”

With a nod of agreement, Minerva looked down at her parchment, consulting the list of assignments. “I think I’ll place you back on the eighth year dorms, if that’s okay with you.”

“I’m happy to work wherever you need me,” Charlie agreed. Even if he hadn’t been, he would have worked to make her happier with him today.

“Good. Now, how are your lesson plans coming along?” she asked, looking at him expectantly.

“I think they’re going well. It’s hard to know for sure when I’ve never done it before, but I know how I’m going to start things — which creatures for which years and what to make sure they know about each,” he enthused.

Honestly, he couldn’t wait to see what the kids thought of his classes, how they reacted to the creatures. Getting to be a part of teaching them that creatures weren’t monsters was an honor.

His once-Professor seemed to understand that, as she gave him a beaming smile. “Excellent, Charles. I have no doubts you will do well. If you need any assistance, know that I am available to you.”

“Of course,” he agreed. Charlie was pretty certain he would do all right on his own, and he had Hermione to help him if he needed her. But knowing that Minerva was willing to help, too, gave him an extra boost of confidence.

“Now, they’re working inside today. I trust you know the way.”

“Yes,” he agreed and let her get back to work.

Leaving her office, Charlie headed for the area where they were working on the dorms, converting what was once a group of classrooms that hadn’t been used in decades into rooms for the older students. It was a short journey to the western wing of the second floor where they would be located.

Oliver and Danny grinned at him the moment he appeared. “You gave us a real scare, yesterday, you bastard!” Danny declared.

“It was worse than anything you pulled during Quidditch,” Oliver added.

“I’m sorry about—”

“No need to apologize. If I had a soulmate all of a sudden, I’d go a bit off the rails, too,” Oliver said.

“Well, I knew it would happen someday. It was just earlier than I had expected,” Charlie explained. “Turns out my clever girl spent some time with a time turner when she was younger and—”

Both of them blinked at him in surprise, then Oliver laughed. “Well. now I know it turned out to be Hermione. No one else would have the bollocks for time travel.”

“Or the brains,” Danny added. Charlie hadn’t been aware Danny even knew Hermione, but her reputation was formidable.

“She has both of those,” Charlie laughed. “Now, what are we doing?”

“Each bedroom has its very own bathroom, and we get to install the plumbing,” Danny said.

“Are there specific charms for it?”

“Of course,” Oliver answered. “Let me teach you.”

*******

Running late for her meeting with Sandy and Melissa hadn’t been part of Hermione’s plan, but she had soaked in the tub too long, gently argued with Tilly about what she would wear, and then had taken her time thoroughly kissing as many of her spice as were still at home before she left.

It was too easy to push off the meeting when Hermione knew the two therapists wouldn’t mind her tardiness. Still, she chastised herself, she couldn’t be making a habit of this, no matter how much she craved being with Charlie, with all her husbands and wives, instead of being here.

Here might not be as enticing, but she had work to do and she couldn’t rearrange it just because she and Charlie now knew what they were to each other. The wizarding world was still a mess and, while she wasn’t the only one stepping in to fix it, Hermione knew she had a large role to play.

As she made her way into the cafe they had chosen just off Diagon Alley, Hermione smiled and nodded thankfully at her Auror tail. Much as she hated using the Ministry’s resources, it really did help to have one with her, both for crowd control and to be able to go out on her own without worrying the family.

The man followed her inside, but sat down next to the door while Hermione looked around for Sandy’s familiar bob. She wasn’t as familiar with Melissa, but thought she had dark hair. There they were! The two women hadn’t noticed her yet, so Hermione went to order her food at the counter before making her way over.

Sandy and Melissa were scrunched together over a list of names.

“Sorry I’m late,” Hermione began as she approached them.

Both women looked up at her. Melissa broke into a friendly smile. Sandy, too, but she seemed to take Hermione in from head to toe and there was a tightening around her eyes. Taken aback at the scrutiny, Hermione added a tentative, “It’s good to see you both.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Hermione,” Sandy said, her smile looking a bit more genuine now.

“We have a lot to talk about!” Melissa enthused, taking Hermione by surprise. She had been a little nervous about having lunch together when she wasn’t sure how much they had to discuss.

“Where would you like to start?” Hermione prompted.

“Well, we have a couple of lists here,” Sandy began. Sliding the first, noticeably shorter, list to Hermione, she explained, “These are the Mind Healers we have recruited to help with the war recovery efforts. Many of them are squibs or even muggles who have some reason to already know about magic. There are only two pureblood Mind Healers in Britain, and only Handley Burke is willing to help.”

“I didn’t think there were any Mind Healers amongst wizards before now,” Hermione said with surprise.

“We didn’t think so either, but it turns out these two went through muggle university to become therapists just like we did,” Melissa explained.

“I would be fascinated to hear how that came about,” Hermione admitted.

Both of the other women laughed. “We’re hoping to find out one day as well,” Melissa said.

“What’s the other list?” Hermione asked. It was considerably longer.

“These are Healers who would be willing to attend a crash course we’ve created so that they can offer limited Mind Healing, especially in the immediate aftermath of traumatic events until they can get scheduled with someone with more in depth training,” Sandy explained.

“The ones with a star by their name are interested in going to muggle uni and becoming actual therapists!” Melissa enthused.

“Really?” Hermione asked in shock.

“More Healers learn muggle ways than you might think,” Sandy said. “Magic can do many amazing things, but muggle technology has made advances in medicine that wizards haven’t even thought of yet.”

Nodding, Hermione replied, “That makes sense, though I had never considered that.”

“Of course wixen can improve the methods once we know them — create spells that mimic or enhance the effectiveness of muggle creations, brew potions with superior results, but so often we don’t think of the possibilities without muggle training because we just don’t know what’s available,” Melissa pointed out.

“That’s fascinating!” Hermione enthused. Of course Healers were working on new spells and techniques all the time to advance medicine. It only made sense.

“Speaking of creating things,” Sandy began, “your husbands are ingenious.”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, beaming. “I assume you mean Fred and George?” She knew they had presented their new products to these ladies, but had only heard vague results of the meeting. She was curious to hear what they would have to say.

“We do,” Melissa said. “They’ve found solutions I didn’t think were possible.”

“They left a few sample products with us and the therapeutic daydream… Well, I used one with a long-term client who has been struggling with trauma for years. We made progress I didn’t think would ever happen for them!” Sandy explained, tears coming to her eyes as she spoke.

“And I’ve used some with newer clients, ones dealing with trauma from the war. Hermione, I think these things may make all the difference in helping people become mentally healthier again,” Melissa told her.

“That’s splendid,” Hermione agreed. “I can only imagine how much of a difference that could make to anyone struggling with this war.”

“Yes,” Sandy said, then leveled Hermione with a stern look. “People like you.”

“Me?” Hermione sputtered.

“Yes, you. Your friends are worried about you. And so am I,” Sandy said, Melissa nodding behind her.

“I believe you agreed that all of you would be getting help,” Sandy pointed out. “I’ve seen Harry and Ronald, but—”

“Ron?”

“Yes, another of your husbands, I understand,” Sandy said pointedly. “And another of your trio.”

Hermione groaned, “Please don’t start in about the Golden Trio nonsense.”

“I had no intention of that,” Sandy assured her. “My point is merely that the others are working on their healing.”

“It’s hardly as though I’m not,” Hermione insisted. “I don’t have the nightmares I expected because I’m always with someone when I sleep. And I’m exhausted at the end of every day, too exhausted to be woken by any nightmares I do have.”

Sandy pressed her lips together and raised a brow. “It’s not just about nightmares, you know. And pointing out that you’re running yourself ragged isn’t going to help you any in this argument. I know you must be working on correcting the physical side of things — taking nutrient potions and the like — so why wouldn’t you come see me as well?”

“I just…” Hermione trailed off, realizing she had no good excuse. “Should I be seeing you in this capacity if we’re going to have a client relationship?”

“Strictly, no. You should let the Coalition handle talking to us, but with your connection to the Weasley twins and the work we’re doing together, you’re the logical person to come to with this until they assign someone. Or you assign someone. We’ll be discussing delegation,” Sandy promised.

Hermione sighed. “Fine, I’ll make an appointment.”

“We’ll make it right now,” Sandy said with a shark-like smile, pulling out an appointment book. There was no getting out of it. Hermione noticed the book was color-coded and smiled. At least there was that.

********

Baby Teddy fussed in Harry’s arms and he didn’t entirely know what to do about it. Andromeda had needed to go out to the shops for a while and of course Harry had offered to watch Teddy. He wasn’t incompetent after all. As a fully grown wizard, he should be able to handle one infant for a few hours.

He was quickly learning just how wrong he was. Harry had fed Teddy, changed his nappy, rocked him, walked around the house with him talking about different things… and the baby had wailed through all of it.

In desperation, Harry turned on the wizarding wireless and began to dance to the music. He didn’t recognize the song, but after a couple of verses, he joined in on the chorus.

And Teddy stopped crying, his eyes big as he watched Harry. Apparently he enjoyed singing — who knew?

The problem with that was that Harry didn’t know any songs. No one ever sang to him as a child. He hadn’t joined the Frog Choir, so he never learned any songs in school. His opportunities to listen to music on the wireless had been limited at best. The only songs he knew at all were Sirius’ old records and a few of Arthur’s favorites.

Harry had a decent enough voice, but perhaps he would need to expand his repertoire if he was going to spend time with Teddy as he quickly ran out of songs he even half knew. So he started over until Teddy was completely calm, even letting him sit down in the rocker.

As the baby snuggled in his arms, Teddy’s hair began to darken until it was black and wavy, a mass of wildness that could only be described as Potter hair. It made something in Harry’s heart squeeze.

Of course, soon there would be a second baby, one even more dependent on him and likely with that very Potter hair all the time. Or the Weasley red.

Part of Harry was worried about fatherhood so young. He certainly hadn’t set out to do that, but here he was with Teddy already, and he was doing okay with it. Maybe not the best, but he was learning.

Teddy was fast asleep in his arms, his hair relaxing back to turquoise. Harry smiled that it was the baby’s default color even in slumber. Looking down at the baby, Harry marveled at his tiny fingers and toes, the little nose and ears. Every part of Teddy was precious. He just wished his parents were here to see it.

A wave of melancholy fell over Harry in an instant. This sweet little boy shouldn’t have to grow up like he did, without parents, without anyone to love and care for him. Harry shook his head. Teddy wasn’t going to grow up the way he did. He had Andromeda, and Harry himself. Plus the whole Weasley bunch. They weren’t technically related, but he knew they would protect and care for Teddy like one of their own.

Just like they were going to take care of his and Ginny’s baby. These two were going to be the most loved babies in the wizarding world. Harry was going to make sure of it.

“Harry?” Andromeda called as she came out of the floo a little while later.

“He’s sleeping,” Harry whispered.

She laughed. “Fortunately, he sleeps like a log. You could put him in his cot.”

“I know,” Harry admitted. “I just… wanted to hold him. I was thinking about… everything.”

Andromeda nodded. “There’s a lot to think about, and holding him certainly brings it all home.”

Harry hummed his answer, slowly rising from the rocker to put Teddy down for the rest of his nap. As he came back into the sitting room, Andromeda silently offered him a cup of tea. Apparently they were going to talk.

“You’re good with him, you know,” she started.

Shaking his head, Harry admitted, “He was inconsolable at first. Until I figured out he likes singing.”

“I don’t know if one so little can even remember, but Remus would sing to him,” Andromeda said with a sigh. “He was a good man. He would have been a good father. But you are, too, Harry. And you’re an incredible godfather already, stepping up as you have. We just need to make it official.”

“You’ve mentioned that before,” Harry noted. He wasn’t sure what it entailed, but he was certainly willing to do whatever it took to be there for Teddy.

“The easy part is paperwork we file at the Ministry. That’s all we have to do,” Andromeda explained.

“But there’s a harder part?” Harry questioned.

“There doesn’t have to be.”

“What is it?”

“You could seal the godfather bond with a ritual. It would keep anyone from being able to take him away if something happened to me.”

“Nothing’s going to—”

“Someday it might, Harry,” Andromeda said gently. “I’m not as young as I used to be. And there are still dark wizards around, you know. I shudder to think what would happen if my sister and her boy got their hands on him. They’re technically next of kin, you know.”

Harry blanched. He had never considered that fact. “Which is why I want you both to move in at Emberhaven,” Harry pointed out. They had argued over this multiple times lately. Andromeda was reluctant to leave her home. “It doesn’t have to be forever,” he urged, “just until things are more settled and the Death Eater sympathizers have been captured.”

Pursing her lips, Andromeda started to shake her head, but Harry broke in again. “I just want you both safe. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to Teddy.”

“Neither could I,” the older woman finally said. “We’ll move in for now. If you’ll do both the paperwork now and a proper bonding ritual as soon as it is convenient.”

“I will,” Harry said enthusiastically, reaching for the papers she was handing him. Anything to have them safe.

*******

The watch in his hand let out a shrill screech and Fred nearly dropped it, making George look over and laugh. “Is it supposed to be that loud?” Fred asked, covering his ears as he tried to figure out how to turn it off.

“Yes,” George said simply, grinning as his twin fumbled with the watch.

Finally, he took pity on him and walked over, flipping a switch at the bottom. Fred stared at him dumbfounded. “How is anyone supposed to know to do that?”

“The same way they learn about any of our products. We provide them an instruction manual and then they just get used to it,” George said with a shrug.

“Where’s my instruction manual?” Fred grumbled.

George refrained from saying that if he had been here more lately, he wouldn’t need one. It wasn’t Fred’s fault the Wizengamot needed to meet so frequently right now. Things would settle down eventually.

Until then, George was grateful he had the shop and all the tinkering to do to keep busy. These watches were proving a trickier bit — or several bits — of magic than he had hoped, but they were going to make them thousands of galleons once they could get them working.

Each watch had hands for your friends or loved ones, like the Weasley family clock. They could be charmed to show locations like the clock at home but, more importantly, if you spun the hand of the person you wanted to talk to, assuming they also had a Weasley Watch, you would see a projected image of the witch or wizard and be able to hear them talking through the watch. It would revolutionize communication in the wizarding world.

“How will they call people who aren’t already on their watchface?” Fred asked.

Tapping his foot on the rung of his stool, George shook his head. “I haven’t figured that bit out yet. Right now it’s all still based on Hermione’s protean charm with the DA galleons, so it has to be someone you already know.”

Fred smiled and George knew he was excited that there was still a part of the product George hadn’t figured out yet. They were so used to doing things completely together, it was odd for one of them to be hands-off on any of their inventions unless they were surprising the other.

In this case, they definitely were not. It had really been Fred’s idea, originally, based off these devices that muggles had called mobiles. He had seen them in London one day when he was researching in the muggle library there. The two of them did far more research at that library than anyone would ever believe.

Before George could go over the possibilities he had thought of so far, Fred got a funny look on his face and asked, “What do you think about Charlie?”

Oh Merlin. “Charlie?” George asked, hoping Fred would elaborate a bit and that he wasn’t about to go into a jealousy spiral.

“Well yeah,” Fred said slowly as he turned the watch over in his hand, inspecting all the little dials and buttons. “He’s… I mean, they were always meant to be together, I guess.”

“They were,” George agreed, “but now Hermione is soulbound to you and I, and married to the rest. And by some miracle, she loves us all. She’s not going to walk away just because she was fated to be with someone.”

“No. I know she won’t. But what if Charlie wants her to?” Fred asked, still looking away. This was important, no matter how nonchalantly he was speaking.

“You heard him this morning. He’s not going to take her away from any of us. I also don’t think Charlie’s the type to feel threatened.”

“Then how do we make this work?”

“First of all, we have that discussion with Charlie here, too,” George began, tapping his fingers on the table. He hadn’t really thought through how it should work. He just knew that they all three needed to talk about it, and that he wanted to work with Charlie to make Hermione’s life better, not against him. They weren’t enemies.

Fred hummed in a way that George couldn’t quite interpret. As he opened his mouth to ask, Fred said, “I think we should approach him. Ask to talk this out. And let him know we want to help him make Hermione happy.”

“Really?” George asked in surprise. He couldn’t believe how closely Fred was echoing his own thoughts. Then again, it was Fred. Of course he was echoing George’s thoughts. He just hadn’t been sure they would ever see eye to eye on this.

All he got in return was a nod, Fred’s eyes trained on the watch in his hands. “It is okay if I take this one apart, right?” Fred asked, springs and little gears bouncing onto the table around him as he fiddled with the watch.

“Yes, of course,” George replied. He knew his twin too well to have given him the only copy of a product. Besides, right now he was making all of them in pairs.This was the fourth version George had worked through so far, with Fred coming in to tinker now and then.

It felt good to have his brother with him all day today, to talk about things — big important ones as well as the little stuff. They needed to spend some time out on the floor, too. Business was hopping. But being back here together, working on their inventions — this was what they had always wanted.

********

Percy followed Kingsley through the floo to his home, waiting impatiently as the Aurors did a sweep of the flat before nodding at the Minister and asking if he wanted them to stay.

“Not tonight, Miller,” Kingsley replied. “Thank you for making sure the place is secure.”

With a nod, the detail of Aurors left for the evening, leaving the two of them finally, blissfully alone. It had been… well, since before the incident at the Wizengamot. Security had tightened so much that it wasn’t easy any longer to get even a moment for a kiss, much less the kind of extended play session they once enjoyed.

Thinking back on those times, Percy wondered if he was supposed to take charge now. He had some ideas about how this evening should go, but he wasn’t at all sure how to navigate this new, more emotional, relationship.

Still, he took a deep breath and said, “We should renegotiate your contract.”

“My contract?” Kingsley asked as he removed his outer robes and began turning up the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt to show off his forearms. Merlin, Percy loved that. Damn him, Kingsley knew it, too.

“Yes,” Percy answered with as much confidence as he could manage, taking off his own robes as well. Two could play this game. “When we were only… playing, we had a contract, as you might recall. It’s time we discuss the finer points and adjust it for the situation we’re in now.”

Kingsley blinked at him, then gave a slow smile as he prowled toward Percy. “I think contract negotiation is a perfect idea. We have a lot to talk about, after all.”

Doing his best not to take a slightly nervous step backward, Percy caught the man as soon as he was within range and pulled him close for a kiss. But it wasn’t the kind of kiss he had expected. This was a fight, a war to determine which of them was in charge. And Percy hadn’t been ready for it.

He gasped as Kingsley took charge, plundering Percy’s mouth and making him moan unexpectedly from the roughness. This wasn’t him. It wasn’t the kind of thing he enjoyed. But Merlin, he was enjoying it now.

When Kingsley released him, Percy was panting. “What was that?” he asked, trying not to sound angry or frightened, even though he was a little bit of both.

“I told you I don’t let others control my relationships.”

“What if I enjoyed our dynamic before?” Percy asked. He wasn’t trembling. He wasn’t. That was absurd.

Frowning, Kingsley moved toward him. When Percy took an involuntary step back, the other man stopped, biting his plump lip. “Maybe you’re right that we need to renegotiate so that we each know where we stand, what we want.”

“Yes,” Percy agreed, relieved.

With amusement, Kingsley asked, “Do you have the contract with you?”

“Of course. The old one and a clean copy for the new one,” Percy said, heading for his briefcase.

“Wait,” Kingsley said, snagging his arm on Percy’s. “Could we just… not do that tonight?”

Percy was flabbergasted. “But I thought we wanted to iron things out. You wanted to talk about the oath and—”

“I do. I want to know where we stand, and I very much want to exchange oaths.”

“I haven’t agreed to that,” Percy made clear.

Kingsley just rolled his eyes in response and said, “That’s why we’ll need to talk about it at length. But Percy, tonight… can we just spend time together? Just be peaceful and happy and relaxed?”

“But we can’t… do anything until we’ve talked about the rules.”

Kingsley smirked. “I assure you we can. But what if tonight I just want to hold you and be held instead?”

Percy stared at him. Why would Kingsley want to spend time with him that way? Certainly he didn’t mind doing less sexual things, but he couldn’t imagine… no one wanted Percy to spend time with them if he wasn’t doing something useful.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” he answered when he realized he had paused too long.

Squinting at him a little in confusion, Kingsley shook his head. “You’re not a bother, Percy. Do you think I only want you here for sex? We had a fine arrangement for that, or at least for what I needed in that department, before we started this. Now I want more.” He paused for a moment, staring into Percy’s eyes. “And I thought you did, too.”

Nervously, Percy played with his tie. “I do. I… This is more. This is different from what we had before. I just… I don’t know why you would want me here this way. Except the magic made you. But perhaps we could use a potion or something, flush it—”

“And do you actually want me to stop having feelings for you, Percival, or are you saying you don’t want to feel things for me?”

Percy blinked. “No, not at all!”

“Then quit fighting it, take that damn tie off, and come here,” Kingsley told him.

Hesitating, Percy held onto the tie for a moment. He didn’t like not being the one in control. He didn’t like the idea of not having his tie to fidget with. But if Kingsley was serious, well, the idea of holding each other sounded lovely. A novel concept to his experiences as an adult, but a good one.

He slowly began undoing the tie, laying it carefully over the back of the chair he was standing next to. “Do you want anything else off of me?” he asked before even realizing the power he was giving Kingsley.

The look in the other man’s eyes was different, though, Percy realized as he looked over at him. Kingsley had taken a slouched position on the sofa and was watching him. His eyes weren’t darkened with lust, nor was his expression sharp and controlled like it was when he was acting as the Minister. Right now, in this moment, he was smiling, his eyes looking happy and relaxed.

“In the future, bring something comfortable to change into. Or maybe we should keep something for you here. But you’re perfect as long as you’re comfortable. Now are you going to join me?” Kingsley gestured to the space beside him on the sofa.

Just as Percy had taken two long strides toward the spot, the floo activated and a head appeared. “Minister Shacklebolt! Minister Shacklebolt!”

Kingsley groaned and sat up so that the talking head could see him properly. Thank Merlin this hadn’t happened just a few minutes later or Percy would have been right next to him.

“What’s wrong, Grady?” Kingsley asked, his attentive Minister aura firmly back in place. Grady was a high level Auror, so not someone to be dismissed.

“A body has been found in the Department of Mysteries, sir,” the man told him.

“Is it someone important?” Kingsley asked.

There was a pause. “Not that we’re aware of. No one has been able to identify the person.”

“Where was this person found?” was Kingsley’s next question.

“In the Death Room,” Auror Grady reported. “Beside the Veil. We’re… honestly we’re not certain if the person was approaching from outside the Veil or if… if they might have come out of it.”

This time it was Kingsley who paused to think through the implications of this. “What makes you think they could have come through the Veil?”

“There are traces of its magic on the body. But the Unspeakables think there was a disturbance in the Veil’s magic as well.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Percy asked, forgetting that it wasn’t his place.

Auror Grady’s head snapped around to look at him. “I wasn’t aware you had a visitor, Minister.”

“Take care that you pay attention in the future,” Kingsley said calmly, “but in this case, you know this is my Undersecretary and we were just going over some Ministry business. Answer his question, please.”

Percy got the impression that the Auror was fidgeting. “We don’t really know what it means, Minister Shacklebolt, sir. The Unspeakables are inspecting.”

“And you are no doubt working to identify the body?”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“Good,” Kingsley replied. “I expect a detailed report first thing in the morning with everything you and the Unspeakables figure out.”

“You don’t want to come through and inspect the body?” the Auror asked in surprise.

“No, I most certainly do not,” Kingsley said firmly. “If there is no immediate threat and I don’t know the person, I want you all to do your jobs while I re—restructure some things with my Undersecretary here.”

“Yes, Minister Shacklebolt, sir,” Auror Grady said just before his head disappeared from the grate.

“Restructuring some things?” Percy asked with one eyebrow raised.

“I couldn’t really tell him we were resting together, now could I? Not yet anyway.”

“Not yet?” Percy asked, blinking. It had never occurred to him that this was a relationship they could ever go public about.

“Are you so ashamed of me that you don’t want anyone to know?” Kingsley asked. His lips were quirked in a playful smile but his eyes were more serious.

“No!” Percy denied. “My family knows, and they’re the only ones who matter. I just hadn’t thought you would want to acknowledge me.”

“Well, you’re wrong, though for political reasons it’s probably best that we don’t admit to it yet.”

“So you can be elected?” Percy asked.

“Hopefully not. I would truly love to go back to being an Auror. I was more thinking of your political career, Undersecretary Weasley.”

Percy stared at him. “You think I could be the Minister?”

“I think there is no one better prepared for the position at this point. The question is whether or not you want it.” Kingsley shook his head. “All that’s for another time, though. Would you find it too forward if I asked you to come to the bedroom?”

“I thought we weren’t—”

“To cuddle without being in front of that damned floo. It won’t let anyone in, and only the emergency system will allow a call straight to me, but I forgot how often they use the emergency system,” Kingsley said with a sigh. He looked tired and Percy suddenly realized he needed care. Like aftercare, only just for life.

Once he realized that, Percy knew exactly what to do to make the rest of the night perfect.

Notes:

I have to admit, I'm not sure what direction I want to take Percy and Kingsley. When I originally conceptualized Percy for this fic, I had no clue he was going to end up with Kingsley, and now I don't know what I want their relationship to look like. So, please, tell me what YOU want to see.

For that matter, I haven't asked in a while, but I would love to know your theories about different plotlines and/or things you would really like to see happen between any of the characters. I do have some things planned, but plenty of open spaces to fill, too.

Chapter 56

Notes:

FINALLY. I know. I'm sorry. I'm not going to go into everything that has happened in real life over the last two months, but suffice to say it's been rough. Finally, though, my family and I are on the mend and my personal world is looking up. (Knock on all the wood while I say that.)

Thank you, as always, to my team, which grows ever larger as several people joined recently to help me talk through where I'm going next. You'll all be happy to know that the next chapter is already written and will just have to go through the editing process before I can share it with you, so no two months wait this time. Promise!

After a late night with Kingsley, Percy was feeling odd — tired and elated in equal measures. He had left the Minister’s house at an indecent hour, but had they spent any more time together, they would have done things that Kingsley said they should wait for.

He should have felt frustrated, but somehow Percy loved the anticipation and softness of it all. The affection Kingsley had shown him was not anything he was accustomed to, but definitely something he could get used to. In his previous “relationships,” he had purposefully stayed emotionally detached, only enjoying them sexually, even when there was the possibility of something more.

Even with Hermione, he mused, it wasn’t like his night with Kingsley. Yes, he had feelings for his wife, and he knew she loved him, too. But she needed a caretaker within the family, and he had appointed himself. Yes, Charlie and the twins would protect her, but they also might continue to squabble over her time. It was a situation he needed to watch and help her navigate.

The end result was that he just didn’t have the same type of emotional vulnerability with her that he felt with Kingsley. While Percy had assumed that would be frightening, he had to admit that he was enjoying the change more than he could have imagined.

Bouncing a little with each step, he was surprised to see Aurors already posted at the doors of the Minister’s office. What was Kingsley doing here so early? Casting a quick Tempus, Percy confirmed it was his usual time of arrival, but the Minister had beat him into the office today, despite their late evening.

It was only then that Percy remembered the mysterious body the Unspeakables had found beside the Veil. The Aurors would have a report by now.

He nodded at the guards as he headed through the doors, pretending he didn’t notice all the magical scans he was walking through in the process. Percy was glad they were taking Kingsley’s safety seriously.

“Percival! There you are,” Kingsley said, gesturing in invitation. “I told you he would be along any moment,” he said to Head Auror Robards.

Wasting no time, Percy moved to stand at the Minister’s right hand, prepared to offer him anything he needed. He could tell from the slight quirk of Kingsley’s lips that he was pleased.

“They were just telling me about the unexpected visitor in the Death Room. And some questions have come up. We’ve summoned Harry Potter as well. We have some questions for the two of you.”

“Me and Harry?” Percy asked, confused.

“Yes,” Robards said, looking somehow both grave and suspicious at the same time.

“Were you able to identify the body?” Percy asked, wondering if he knew the person. Realizing he didn’t know, he added, “Are they living or deceased?”

“Just a body,” Robards grunted, making it clear he didn’t want to divulge any further information.

Kingsley said, “It was a cousin of the Lestranges on their mother’s side — Alexander Rosier. He had been a known Voldemort sympathizer in the first war but not an active Death Eater. He was an Unspeakable, working in the Death Room since he graduated Hogwarts, and became our resident specialist on it until he got a little too close to the Veil one night. Unspeakable Johnson still refuses to enter the room after what she saw that night. He’s been gone for almost a decade.”

“But now he’s back,” Robards huffed, looking thoroughly disgruntled. “Or at least his body is — he looks the same as the day he disappeared.”

“There was magic on him from the Veil?” Percy ventured, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“There was, along with a disturbance in the Veil itself. The Unspeakables currently assigned to the Death Room say they’ve never heard of anything like this happening. No one who has passed through the Veil has ever returned.”

“How did this happen?” Percy asked.

“That’s the question of the day,” Robards said, glaring at him.

Kingsley shook his head and stepped between them. “It would take a very powerful wand to perform such powerful magic. We need you and Harry to tell us about what happened to the last piece of the Elder Wand. The Unspeakables who were part of the ritual agree that you burned it, but this is the second occurance of magic that could only come from the Deathstick since then.”

“The attack on the Wizengamot and now this,” Percy murmured. “But the fragment was incinerated. I saw it, too. Harry used a very powerful Incendio.”

“But not fiendyre?” Kingsley asked sharply. “The only way to be sure would have been fiendfyre.”

“I doubt he knows how to cast fiendfyre, Minister,” Percy said, hoping it would remind them all that Harry was barely more than a child.

There was a knock at the door, and the Aurors announced that they were there with Harry Potter. When Percy saw how disheveled Harry was, he wondered if the Aurors had pulled him from Ginny’s bed like a criminal to march him in here.

“What’s this about?” Harry demanded.

They went over the facts again, with Harry agreeing that the Elder Wand couldn’t possibly be whole. “I’m not sure why we’re being questioned,” Harry said. “It was your own Unspeakables who lost all the pieces but that last shard. And Percy and I have both already told you we saw it burned to nothing.”

Robards nodded as though this was what he had expected, the look on his face one of extreme frustration.

Harry was stuck on one fact, though. “If they brought someone out of the Veil from so long ago, could they bring someone else out?”

“Harry,” Kingsley said gently, “Sirius is gone. There’s no bringing him back. Even if we had a wand that could summon him out, this Rosier fellow wasn’t alive when he returned.”

“But you think someone brought him out? Someone was trying to bring him out alive? What if they succeed? What if they figure out how—”

“Whoever they are, they’re not likely to want to share the information with us,” Robards said. Even he was a bit more gentle as he explained to Harry.

“But if the Death Eater wannabes can do it, so can we. I can ask Hermione — if anyone can figure it out, she can,” Harry insisted.

“You mustn’t talk to anyone about this!” Robards exclaimed.

“It is top secret, Harry. Not even Hermione can know about it,” Kingsley confirmed.

Percy could tell by the set of Harry’s jaw that the information wasn’t sitting well with him. He would have to find time to let Harry talk it out with him, maybe convince him to try to figure it out together.

“But it has to be possible,” Harry protested. “Because no matter how big their explosion was, and how impossible this is, the Elder Wand couldn’t have been in working condition.”

Percy bit his lip as he thought hard about that. “I’m not so sure that’s true. If they had a wand maker helping them, perhaps they could forge a new wand.”

Shaking his head, Harry declared, “It wouldn’t be the same at all.”

The dawning horror was clear on Kingsley’s face as he said, “Perhaps they’ve created something even more powerful.”

They all stared at one another, contemplating that possibility. Finally, Harry shook his head. “You don’t get more powerful than Death.”

Kingsley and Robards blinked. Percy wondered if they knew the whole story surrounding that wand and how Harry acquired it. Surely they did.

“If someone is trying to bring people back from the Veil, they are apparently trying to be more powerful than Death,” Robards observed slowly.

They all stared at one another at that stark reality check. Percy felt a swift wave of nausea as he imagined how dangerous such a feat — and the wand that could accomplish it — would be.

Kingsley shook his head. “Robards, double the Auror presence in the Department of Mysteries. Keep at least two Aurors in the Death Chamber at all times.”

“Yes, Minister,” Robards responded and then nodded before turning and heading out of the room.

“That’s it?” Harry asked. “You’re not going to do anything to figure this out?”

“Hopefully the Aurors will catch someone and we’ll be able to question them about how this happened,” Kingsley said, far more calmly than Percy could have managed. “Thank you for coming in Harry—”

“As if I was given a choice,” he muttered. Maybe they really had dragged him out of bed.

“—but it’s time for you to go now,” Kingsley dismissed.

Harry stared at him in shock. “That’s all? You’re just going to drop that information on me and send me on my way?”

“I appreciate your help, as I trust you more than the Unspeakables, but there is no further need to speak of this. Percy and I have work to do preparing for the Wizengamot — including what we will tell them about this incident — and I daresay you have some getting ready to do yourself.”

Harry looked down at himself and grimaced. “Fine,” he grumbled and stomped out of the office.

“Was it wise to bring him in?” Percy asked, shaking his head.

“Of course,” Kingsley said. “Because of who he is, it is of the utmost importance that he knows what’s going on with attacks on Death.”

“Because Harry is supposed to be the Master of Death?” Percy asked.

“Yes. Now set it aside, Percy. We need to focus on today’s session.”

“But—” Percy cut himself off at the stern look on Kingsley’s face. This wasn’t the time. Percy nodded to let him know he understood, and they got to work.

********

Fred stretched, enjoying the sight of Hermione beside him, looking so tempting as she slept. If they had time…

Casting a quick Tempus, he found they did not, but it didn’t ruin his mood. The night before had satiated him — and George — to the point that he didn’t need Hermione, only wanted her. He always wanted her.

On her other side, George’s eyes blinked open. For a moment, the twins stared at one another, then George shook the sleep away and cast his own Tempus. “We’re all going to be late,” he whispered.

“You wake her up then,” Fred suggested, laughing quietly. Hermione wasn’t always pleasant when awakened, so it wasn’t a task he wanted.

“I’m awake,” she grumbled. “You two keep moving.”

“Well, we’re awake, and it’s time for you to be, too.”

When he told her the time, Fred laughed even harder as Hermione jumped straight out of bed and began rushing through her morning routine. He and George both made sure she still took the time for kisses and “I love yous,” but she remained mostly focused on her task — and on pushing the two of them to get ready as well.

They were in the kitchen in no time, and Fred was enjoying jostling his twin, picking at him about the watches and how they were progressing, when there was a tapping on the window. To his surprise, it wasn’t an owl but some bird he had never seen before. “What’s that?”

Hermione rushed over, exclaiming, “A red-tailed black cockatoo! They’re from Australia.” She quickly let it inside where it settled on the owl perch, looking exhausted, as Hermione removed the letter from its leg. She looked excited, and Fred wondered what it was about. He had no idea what she could be expecting from Australia.

“Who’s it from, love?” he asked as she tore into the letter.

She didn’t answer. In fact, she had gone very still.

“Hermione?” George prompted. Fred could feel his worry amplifying his own through their bond. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and Fred noticed how glassy her eyes looked. Taking a deep breath, she blinked away what must have been tears and shook her head again. “It’s nothing. I have to go.”

Before he could catch her, Fred found himself watching her disappear through the flames of the Floo. “Are you going after her or am I?” he asked George.

To his surprise, George shook his head. “You can try, but feel the bond. I think she needs some time to process whatever that was.”

Fred hated letting people process things. It made so much more sense to him to face problems head-on. But at the look George was giving him, he reluctantly nodded. “Fine. But I’m keeping a close eye on her during the session.”

“Please do,” George agreed, looking worriedly at the Floo where she had disappeared.

********

Ron grumbled as he followed in the wake of Millie’s formal Wizengamot robes. He hated having to play bodyguard for her, though he knew it was good practice for being on real bodyguard details. He had to remind himself this was a real bodyguard situation. If he was also aware that he would have worried about her if he wasn’t with her, that was no one’s business but his own.

As they shuffled into the seating area for the House of Bulstrode, Ron stood in just the right place to make her huff. “I can’t see if you stand there.”

“I have to make sure you’re safe,” Ron retorted as he scanned the area, eyeing some of the darker House members with distrust. Just because they didn’t look like they were doing anything suspicious didn’t mean Millie was safe.

Or his family members, for that matter. Another benefit of this assignment was knowing that he would be available if any of them were attacked, too.

As Millie continued to snap at him, Ron barely managed to restrain a grin. Finally, he moved to stand just behind her and to her left, the perfect vantage to meet threats to her while still allowing her to see.

The session was called to order shortly thereafter, and Ron soon discovered another advantage: the Wizengamot was privy to information he never would have received as a lowly trainee. In this case, he got to hear about the body that had been found down in the Death Room. No wonder they had made him take all those additional confidentiality oaths.

When Robards, with the help of the Minister, announced that this was nothing to be alarmed about, Ron was skeptical. He wasn’t the only one either. He carefully observed who was most upset by this information — and who was pleased.

“Everyone, remain calm,” Kingsley said in his best booming voice. The Wizengamot quieted at once and Robards continued what he had been trying to say.

“My Aurors have been tracking the movements of this terrorist group and we are confident that they are going into a period of regrouping. It is clear that whatever they were trying here didn’t work. With the added security we are placing in the Department of Mysteries, they will find it difficult to execute any further attempts.”

“But what were they doing?” someone called out. Ron cursed himself for not catching who had spoken. He needed every scrap of information he could get.

“We can only guess,” Robards answered.

“So what is your guess?” Seamus demanded impatiently.

Robards looked like he was ready to yell at the young man, but Kingsley laid a hand on his shoulder and turned to Seamus. “That is part of an ongoing investigation and will be reported on once we have a solid answer.”

“That could be ages,” Lady Brown protested.

“It’ll be as long as it takes,” Robards said, his snarl shining through his normal professional demeanor. Ron had to hold back a snicker even as he tried to piece together what they weren’t saying. Millie laughed under her breath and he knew she was just as amused by their boss.

Shaking his head to focus, Ron pondered the situation. What could the arseholes want with the Veil? What was the purpose of bringing out a dead person?

That they had succeeded in that was alarming by itself, but there had to be a bigger plan at play here. Still, he knew from their fruitless searches that the band of leftover Death Eaters had indeed pulled back and hidden themselves. Hopefully they would spend a good, long time regrouping, maybe long enough to get bored and find something productive to do instead.

With that order of business handled, the reports became tedious and boring. Ron found his attention drifting, his mind still puzzling over the man in the Death Room until Millie’s voice broke him from his reverie.

“I wish to be on the Board of Governors,” she declared.

Ron glanced over at her, wondering what Board she was volunteering for and if he would need to follow her there as well.

Kingsley was holding up his hand, shaking his head as other voices joined Millie’s. “I’m afraid those of you still in school shouldn’t sit on the Hogwarts Board—”

“On the contrary,” Susan Bones interrupted, looking as formidable as her legendary aunt had been, “those of us who are still students have the most at stake and would therefore be best suited for the Board.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, the Minister sighed. “I had hoped the number of students present in the Educational Reform Committee would appease—”

“It doesn’t,” Susan cut him off.

Ron smirked, knowing full well that the girl would not be deterred. In the limited times he had worked with her so far, he had accepted that she was every bit the hard ass her aunt was rumored to have been.She wouldn’t allow herself to be pushed aside so easily.

Kingsley went on. “The Board will begin with House Potter and House Weasley then, as they have contributed funds and labor to the school in exchange for positions.”

“Objection!” Lord Peasegood called out. “What kind of backroom deal is—”

“The same kind you made when you bought your way onto the Committee for International Relations and Trades,” Lady Longbottom interrupted with a contemptuous glare. “The Potters and Weasleys have a vested interest in Hogwarts, just as you have argued that you have in the international outlook of our country.”

“How many Houses make up the Board?” Padma asked as Lord Peasegood sputtered.

“Twelve, Lady Patil,” Percy answered in his most official tone, “though the Board of Governors does not require all members to be Wizengamot members.”

“What does that mean?” Dean Thomas asked.

“Sometimes a Governor will be someone else from within the House chosen. On rare occasions there have even been Governors who were not attached to a Wizengamot Seat,” Kingsley explained.

“House Longbottom will have a seat on the Board of Governors,” Lady Longbottom declared, “though it will be filled by the upcoming Lord. He has more of a right to the seat than I.”

“And I still wish for House Bulstrode to have a seat as well,” Millie insisted loudly. “My grandmother was a Board member and would have wanted the honor to remain with our House.”

Ron barely held back a smirk at those words. If she was invoking her grandmother’s desires, Millie must be hoping the darker houses will support her. Surely they could see through that, but a careful glance toward their faction showed surprised smiles being thrown Millie’s way. As though the bastards actually believed she would carry on her grandmother’s politics. Even Ron knew better than that.

Others were volunteering for the Board now, and Kingsley had begun a complicated voting process that Ron had forgotten to pay attention to. His eyes and ears had been on Millie. On the way she simpered for the Dark Houses and then shot a calculating look toward Harry, who saw it, but didn’t acknowledge it.

As he stood there, an uncomfortable epiphany slid through Ron’s consciousness. Millie wasn’t who he had assumed she was. She might not be who anyone thought she was. And that was just what they needed right now. Another ally across the line.

Millie was still a Slytherin, of course. She couldn’t help that. But she was one of the good ones. Ron at least trusted her enough to know that.

By the time he refocused his attention on the business of the Wizengamot, the Hogwarts Board of Governors had been determined. Percy intoned each name with reverence.

“Led by Harry Potter, the Board of Governors will additionally consist of Fred Weasley acting for House Weasley, Neville Longbottom acting for House Longbottom, Hermione Granger acting for House Black, Montgomery Pritchard acting for House Pritchard, Andromeda Tonks acting for House Lupin, Angelo Johnson acting for House Johnson, Susan Bones acting for House Bones, Rebekah Martin acting for the Muggleborn Coalition, Blaise Zabini acting for House Zabini, Millicent Bulstrode acting for House Bulstrode, and Woodrow Selwyn acting for House Selwyn.”

Ron was pleased to hear that, though the list contained Slytherins their age, none of the still-Dark Houses had managed to get on the Board. Well. He was still suspicious of the old Selwyn chap, but he had heard his brothers speak well of him. Did that mean that the Wizengamot as a whole was turning lighter?

Wrapping up that bit of business, the Wizengamot pressed on to various reports about the wizarding community’s economic resources and how to help the struggling businesses throughout their world. Ron did his best to listen, but a lot of it was boring. Percy’s obsession with the thickness of cauldron bottoms came to mind as some of the Lords and Ladies droned on.

Finally, Bill stood, smiling around the room as he answered the Minister’s questions about the werewolf legislation he had sponsored. Ron wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not that Bill’s teeth seemed pointier, his voice a lower growl than usual. Tonight was the full moon, which explained a lot about the way Bill’s every move seemed predatory.

The other members of the Wizengamot watched with wide eyes as Bill discussed the progress he was already making on the bill — searching for a location to house the werewolf home it made provisions for and his preliminary thoughts on providing wolfsbane. It would be the work of many months, perhaps years, to see it done, but Ron knew Bill wouldn’t turn away from this until it was done right.

It was a relief when, after a few more reports, the session was finally dismissed. They had worked straight through lunch today, everyone hoping to go home early. From the gleam in his eye, it seemed Kingsley had hoped for the same. Everyone laughed when, after he dismissed them, baby Teddy gave an excited squeal. That was certainly how Ron felt, too.

*********

Heaving a sigh of relief that the session was finally over, Harry turned to Andromeda behind him, reaching out for Teddy before he had time to think if that would be what the older witch wanted. Thankfully, she beamed at him as she handed the baby over.

“Are you ready to go make this official?” Andromeda prompted.

Harry wanted to groan. The last thing he wanted was anything more to do with official anything, but he knew he needed to officially accept the role of godfather for Teddy’s protection. Thankfully, it shouldn’t take all that long. “Of course,” he assured Andromeda as he tickled Teddy’s belly.

“Come along then,” she said, her command softened by the fond look in her eyes as she watched Harry with her grandson.

He knew she cared about both of them, even though she could sometimes come off as gruff or uncaring. Considering her upbringing as a daughter of the House of Black, it was a wonder that Andromeda was as soft as she was.

Before she could get ahead of him, Harry stepped up and offered her his arm as any good Lord should do. It was a little hard to juggle Teddy at the same time, but he knew it was a skill he needed to perfect.

Andromeda’s lips twitched as she tried and failed to hold in a laugh when Teddy squirmed and Harry nearly dropped him. “That’s not funny!” he protested.

“We both have magic, Harry. I would never let my grandson hit the ground even if your magic allowed him to fall, which I doubt.”

Blinking at her, Harry asked, “My magic could respond without me making a conscious effort?”

“Of course. It’s a mature version of accidental magic — wandless and wordless but powerful nonetheless. You’ll be even more likely to use this kind of magic in protection of Teddy if we do the ritual bonding him to you. For your own child—”

“Teddy is mine, too,” Harry immediately declared. He might not know how that was going to work, but he was certain that he was going to claim the child in all the ways no one ever bothered to claim him.

Smiling, Andromeda said, “That is the best I could hope for for my grandson. And your magic will respond to all your children in that case.”

Harry smiled back at her, then they started on their way again, waving, smiling, or staring down the other members of the Wizengamot as they crossed paths on their way out.

He was amused to see Ron taking his position as Millicent’s bodyguard very seriously. He was even more amused to notice that the girl kept shooting his friend covert glances. Was there something going on there? Harry made a mental note to ask Hermione.

Thinking of her, he sought her out in the crowd. Today would mark her first therapy appointment with Sandy, and he knew she was nervous. The way Hermione was chewing on her lip and practically vibrating with nerves confirmed it, though something about the way she held herself made him wonder if it was something more. Harry was drawn to go comfort her, but he couldn’t. Not when Teddy needed him to do this.

Relief swept through him when Fred and Bill both stepped beside her, one on either side, whispering something that made Hermione laugh. There was an odd swoop in Harry’s stomach as he watched, but he brushed it aside as he focused back on Andromeda.

She told him stories of how magic helped with child-rearing and how to best use it to your advantage. It was information he would need, but he still couldn’t quite focus on it.

They were now out in the hallway, moving toward the lifts as his eyes caught on Theo Nott, escorting Miranda Shacklebolt ahead of them. Was Theo just being a gentleman or were the two going somewhere together? Harry tried to calm the stab of jealousy he felt at the idea. Yes, they were both attractive, physically and for their minds. He loved talking to each of them. It didn’t mean they were meant for him, and that was okay.

Harry thought back to his own sessions with Sandy, and all the mantras he was trying to use to deal with these new feelings. He and Ginny were meant to be. It was a mantra that made Sandy shake her head at him, but it was the most effective in a situation like this. With Teddy in his arms, it was a stark reminder that he was a father now and had more important things to consider than how attractive someone might be.

Riding the lifts was as jarring as ever, but everyone laughed when Teddy squealed with delight. Andromeda even smiled despite the audience around them. They were soon in the archives, standing before a sturdy desk where the clerk dutifully looked through their forms and then watched them each sign to make Teddy officially his godson and a ward of House Potter.

That last surprised him, but Harry had ticked the box on the parchment anyway, looking to Andromeda to be sure it was the right thing to do. Her pleased expression had told him everything he needed to know.

“Now what?” he asked when the Archival Clerk stamped the paper with the Ministry’s official seal and set it aside to be filed after handing them each a copy.

“Now, we go to Emberhaven and celebrate,” Andromeda said with a smile, handing Teddy back over to him.

*********

Bill breathed a silent sigh of relief when Fred offered to take Hermione to her appointment. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to comfort his wife about whatever was bothering her, just that he was excited for his own upcoming meeting and needed to get things prepared for it.

The whole thing would be easier if Remus’ old friend felt safe entering the Ministry, but Bill completely understood why he didn’t. And Thaddeus was too important to his plans to force the werewolf into an uncomfortable situation, even if it was inconvenient for both him and the others who were attending this meeting.

After kissing Hermione goodbye, he headed first for his office. There, he gathered the paperwork he had prepared, trying to shake the itchy feeling under his skin. The day of the full moon was always like this, but Bill liked the symbolism of getting all this rolling today. He knew Thaddeus appreciated it, too, even if he was undoubtedly feeling poorly today.

It was almost an hour before he was headed for the Ministry Floos, trying not to cringe at the enormous cacophony of sound assaulting his overly sensitive ears. Bill was jostled from the side as a group of Lords shoved past him, whispering intensely.

“—the shipment won’t be in until August,” one of the men said, his head ducked down so that Bill couldn’t see his face. Their robes were all identical, formal Wizengamot robes with the hoods pulled up. In the crowded atrium, Bill couldn’t identify the voice.

“August?” a woman’s voice demanded. “That’s too long!”

“We can hardly help the harvesting schedule of the red-leafed Finnywigs,” the first man replied, his tone dripping with disdain for the woman.

“All of you shut up,” came the silken voice of Lord Greengrass. “We’re in the atrium, for Salazar’s sake.”

Bill almost stopped walking, wanting to question them. Finnywigs of any sort were highly volatile, and the red-leafed were the worst of the lot. What could they be planning? As he hesitated, his eyes met Sebastian Greengrass’ and the man sneered at him.

Picking up his pace, Bill moved away from them, toward the Floos. His whole body tensed as he felt the tip of a wand behind his ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you’re a halfbreed, too,” that silken voice sneered.

An excruciating pain went through his head, and suddenly Bill felt disoriented. He stumbled slightly, blinking hard as he tried to remember where he was going. As he shook his head like the wolf he knew was prowling angrily inside him, Bill tried to remember what he had been doing.

He looked up and his eyes met the angry glare of Sebastian Greengrass. There was something… it was just on the edge of his memory, but Bill couldn’t quite recall. He knew in that moment that he had been obliviated, but he still wasn’t quite sure what it was he had forgotten. Less, he imagined, than they had meant him to, because he was suddenly very aware that he had overheard something he shouldn’t have. Something about a shipment.

Before the Dark Houses came for him again, Bill turned and briskly walked to the apparition point so that he wouldn’t have to shout his destination. Landing just outside the twins’ flat, he quickly unlocked the place and went in before anyone could follow him.

He had only taken a handful of steps before a wand was trained on him. “What spell did you teach me when I was too young for anything more than a toy wand?” Ginny demanded.

Bill chuckled as he answered, the feel of it a nice release of the tension he was holding. “The hair color changing spell. And the twins were constantly blamed for it when you did it. I was always proud that your magic was so strong at that age, to do it with a toy wand.”

Ginny grinned at him, lowering her wand. “What are you doing here?”

“Just needed a minute to myself before I floo to a meeting,” he explained. He didn’t really want to tell Ginny about having a memory taken. For it to have worked on him at all on the day of the full moon, it had to have been strong, and he didn’t want to alarm her. Or anger her, more likely. As much as Ginny didn’t want to admit it, she was in a delicate condition.

“Should I go downstairs then?” his sister asked with a raised brow.

“No, this is fine. I just couldn’t take all the noise in the Ministry atrium. It was crowded.”

She nodded in understanding, and Bill felt guilty for lying to her. “I need to head to my meeting now. I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

“Something top secret, I guess?” she asked petulantly.

He shrugged. There was no reason she couldn’t know. “Don’t spread it around, but I’m talking to some people about the werewolf sanctuary.”

The smile she gave him made it well worth having shared the information. Bill ruffled her hair, then headed for the floo as she protested. He just laughed, stepping inside the floo and calling out the name of the seedy little bar Thaddeus had chosen.

When he stepped out, he could see that he was late. In the back corner, Thaddeus was already sitting, talking seriously with a witch and wizard Bill didn’t recognize. Smiling that the polyjuice must have worked — as expected, since Fleur made it — he made his way to their table. He hadn’t felt the need to disguise himself.

Everyone in the wizarding world knew that Bill Weasley had sponsored the Remus Lupin Safe Haven Law, and that he was the one overseeing its execution. For Theodore and Miranda, however, it could be quite dangerous to be known as the ones helping him. Not that the Nott boy would be able to hide what he was going to do, not for long anyway.

“Lord Weasley—” Theodore started.

“None of that here. I’m just Bill,” he replied.

The witch nodded, “Call me Mandy.”

“I’m Theo. I don’t care if people know who I am,” the young man said with a shrug. “Not that many people know me as Theo anyway.”

“I’m surprised you went along with the disguise then,” Bill commented with his brow raised as he slid onto the bench next to Thaddeus.

“We didn’t want to be attacked on the way,” he answered.

“They’re smart ones,” Thaddeus said with a wolfish grin. “And they’re ready to make this happen, if you are still serious.”

Bill blinked. “Of course I’m serious. The werewolves need a place to be safe to shift.”

“And Nott Manor will offer a place to run on the grounds, ancient wards to keep them inside those bounds, and a large manor building to live in the rest of the month,” Theo said. He smelled nervous, Bill noticed, but the look on his face was firm.

“I thought you didn’t have access to your fortunes? That the Ministry was still holding them?”

“They are, to a degree. I have access for philanthropic purposes, but the Ministry has to approve. I think they were hoping to give the Manor to one of their own eventually, because it’s taken longer to get approval for this than anything else I’ve done. I petitioned for it as soon as you mentioned the werewolf legislation the first time, but hadn’t heard back until yesterday. If I had access sooner, I would have come to you before. It might have eased the passing of the bill — to know that a location had already been found,” Theo pointed out.

“Where will you live?” Bill asked. It was none of his business, but he still wanted to know.

With a sickened look on his face, Theo said, “I have more properties than I can count. I plan to give away several more when I can think of appropriate causes. Believe me when I say that I have places I can stay.”

“The girl’s in more danger than he is,” Thaddeus noted, tipping his head at Mandy.

She scoffed. “No more danger than I’m usually in as the Minister’s niece.”

“You underestimate wixen’s dedication to fearing werewolves,” he replied and Bill nodded along. As much as he hated it, this was the truth. Even without being a full werewolf he experienced their prejudice. He could only imagine how bad it was for full werewolves.

“It is a great service you’re offering, to fund a printing press for our learning materials,” Bill acknowledged.

“I was moved by your speech about the young werewolves who’ve had no education and the impact that has had on adult populations and their desperation. They deserve educational materials that pertain to them. And the public needs educational materials that will help them understand werewolves aren’t their enemies,” Mandy said forcefully.

Theo smiled and met her eyes for a moment before she excused herself to the loo. When she was out of earshot, he said, “She had a close friend once who was bitten. He was killed during the war, and Mandy doesn’t want to talk about it, but it’s in his honor that she is here.”

“It seems that you’ve all come here in someone’s honor,” Thaddeus said, giving Theo a quizzical look. Bill, too, was curious who had brought the young man to care.

A bitter laugh escaped Theo. “I wish I had anything good to say about the werewolves I have been in contact with. Professor Lupin was wonderful at his job, but I never knew him as more than a professor, and didn’t see him after I learned about his lycanthropy. The other werewolves I’ve known were terrible, Fenrir and his ilk.” He shuddered as he spoke of them. “I’m doing this because I hope my father is rolling over in his grave at the very idea. And because I want werewolves to have access to education and reasons to be contributing members of society. I don’t want them to become the next Greyback.”

“That’s well thought out,” Thaddeus agreed, nodding even as he winced at much of what Theo had said. “The pack I belong to has never behaved like Greyback, and we want to do all that we can to put his image in the past where it belongs.”

“Good,” Theo replied as Mandy slid back onto the bench beside him.

“You know I’m not funding the printing press just for you. I wouldn’t know the first thing about running one. I’ve hired the Lovegoods to run it. In return for printing your material, I’ll be leaving the press with them so that Xeno can re-create The Quibbler.”

“He must be very excited,” Bill said, having not heard this part of the plan before.

Mandy bit her lip. “Less so than I had expected, but his daughter made up for his lack of enthusiasm.”

“I’m sure,” Bill replied, thinking of his sister’s friend growing up. Luna had always been such a character. “But why—”

“He’s scared,” Thaddeus said, nodding sagely. Bill realized the older wolf was right. “And he has reason to be. With whoever is trying to stir up trouble now, they won’t want him printing the truth either.”

“All the more reason for us to have strong allies like the werewolves,” Bill said, “who might help if they’re needed.”

Thaddeus nodded. “I think you’ll find many are willing to help in just about any way possible if their lives can improve to the degree we’ve discussed.”

“Then let’s get these papers signed and get started,” Theo declared, looking anxious to be done. Bill didn’t miss how relieved Thaddeus seemed at the young man’s call to action.

Pulling the papers from his bag, Bill smiled around the table as he began showing them all where to sign. It would take some time to get the sanctuary set up, but this was the true beginning of it.

********

Sniffling, Hermione tried her hardest to stop the flow of tears before she stepped inside Emberhaven. It was a lost cause to entirely hide that she had been crying, but she hoped to make it look like she was just wrung out and ready to go straight to bed.

Apparently, that too was too much to ask. The moment she stepped inside to see Charlie and the twins laughing together, Harry playing with Teddy, and Fleur busy in the kitchen, she started crying again.

“Hermione?” George asked, immediately sensing her presence and inner turmoil.

“What’s wrong, Draga?” Charlie asked.

Fred was the first one to her, but they were all three wrapped around her within moments. She could only cry, unable to tell them in words how she felt. It wasn’t normally something she wanted, but Hermione wished in this moment that she could telepathically communicate with them the way the twins could each other. Sometimes she had glimpses into their thoughts, but it was nothing consistent, and she couldn’t really send a message.

Having them all fussing over her was nice most of the time, but tonight it made her feel claustrophobic. She didn’t need her lovers right now. She needed a friend. Her sobs became more intense and Hermione could sense how much more distressed the three were becoming.

It was a breath of fresh air when Fleur said, “Boys, you are smuzzering ‘er. Get back!” She was shooing them with a tea towel and it made Hermione laugh.

Approaching her, Fleur got close, but not too close, before asking, “Do you want zem to take you to bed or eez zis a night for us to talk?”

“Talk, please,” she gasped, finally getting words through her tightened throat. “Harry,” she added.

“Just ‘Arry?”

Hermione shook her head. “You and Harry.” She wasn’t sure why she so badly wanted the two of them, but it felt right somehow. Fleur had comforted her once before about her parents. And Harry was one of the few who knew the whole story.

Charlie went over to talk with Harry in a low, calm voice, then scooped up little Teddy and walked with him toward the staircase. The twins trailed behind him, looking forlornly back toward her. Hermione wanted to make some sort of gesture that would reassure them but nothing came to mind.

“Do not worry about zem,” Fleur chided as she led Hermione to the sofa. “Zey are grown men and can take care of zemselves. Ah, ‘ere comes ‘Arry.”

“Mione, what’s wrong?” he asked, flopping down next to her. “Therapy can be rough, but—”

“Everything’s wrong!” she managed to wail, collapsing in Fleur’s arms on her other side. “I’ve made everyone here choose me and the wizarding world can’t be expected to approve and I can’t get everything done that needs to be and this is our home but my parents will never see it because… you know what I did.” She said the last in a whisper.

Harry’s brows knitted together. “Do you mean the obliviation?”

She just sobbed harder in response, unaware that Fleur was glaring at Harry.

“Sorry, of course that’s what you mean,” he muttered. “You’ll be able to fix it back. I know you will.”

“I have to find them first,” she gasped. “They’re not… not where I sent them. The Australian Ministry looked for them. They could be anywhere. They could be kidnapped or dead or anything!” Hermione wasn’t usually prone to hysterics, but the session had been intense, and had forced her to look at the situation with her parents that she had been pushing further and further down for months now.

She felt guilty that she had upset Sandy so deeply on their first session. The poor woman probably wouldn’t even want to try and help Hermione again. But she hadn’t been able to control her bursts of magic. And even thinking that brought a harsh wind sweeping through the house. Oh Merlin, it was going to happen again.

But it didn’t. Emberhaven shuddered for a moment and then Hermione noticed the lights dim and all sounds were suddenly drowned out by soft, calming music. She felt a comforting presence that she somehow knew was the house herself, in addition to Fleur and Harry.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione whimpered as her magic calmed.

“Don’t be sorry, mon chou. Your parents are important to you, as zey should be. We weel ‘elp you find zem.”

“Yeah, we will,” Harry vowed, his arms slipping around her from behind.

Hermione continued to cry in between the two of them as she slowly managed to release some of the details of her session. There were parts that were too personal to go into, things that had to do with each of them and her spice particularly, but there had been plenty she felt open to admitting now that she could force out words again.

“— and I know it’s ridiculous to be so upset about all of this now, when it’s over, and Harry’s fine, and Fred’s alive, and we’re all okay, but I just can’t get over how easily it all could have turned out wrong,” she admitted, still crying.

“Hermione,” Harry began, pushing a curl behind her ear as she turned to look at him, “I still have nightmares all the time about everything that could have happened instead. I expect — and Sandy does too — that it will be years before we feel like we can really trust this world we’re building, the life we get to live now. All we can do is try to make it what we want, what we all deserve, and keep being here for one another.”

“Oh Harry!” she cried, throwing herself into his chest as Fleur continued to rub her back. “When did you get so wise?”

“When I started getting therapy, probably,” he said with a laugh. Hermione stayed in her friend’s arms, crying until she fell asleep and her three soul bound loves came to carry her up to the Master bedroom.

She didn’t hear the whispered conversation between Harry and Fleur, their determination to find her parents for her, no matter how long it took. All Hermione knew was that she was safe, and the family she had now was surrounding her and taking care of her even when she fell apart.

Notes:

There will be a two month time skip between this and the next chapter. I hope I have set it up well for that in this chapter. If there is anything you particularly want updates on, please let me know!

Chapter 57

Notes:

I'm finally back and we've finally skipped ahead a bit timeline wise. I hope you all enjoy!

On a different note, I want to give a shout out to two similar-ish stories that I've been enjoying lately! The Binding of Hermione by SpookyPanda1 has rituals so good they make me marvelously jealous and it looks like Hermione will end up with either Bill or Charlie - or both? I don't know, but I'm loving it. Then there's Six Weasleys by CassieMK. I don't know who Hermione will end up with, but it's got a very good Hermione with all the brothers kind of vibe and is so heartbreakingly realistic in how it deals with all their grief and trauma after the war.

Back to me, I swear I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner. Thank you, everyone, for your patience.

And thank you, as always, to my incredible team that keeps this behemoth story going.

Friday, August 7th

With Harry’s godfather ritual happening tonight, Hermione expected today to be a busy one. There had still been time to sleep in a bit. And spend some glorious time waking up with Charlie. Thank Merlin the Wizengamot schedule had finally cut back. It meant that, despite this being a Friday, she was free. But now she was getting ready in a hurry.

Charlie had already left, giving her a lingering kiss before he headed out to check on his dragons at Gringotts. After that, she knew he would follow his daily routine to Hogwarts to work with the menagerie he was slowly putting together there. Hermione smiled. He may have left the sanctuary, but he would always find creatures to care for.

Things with Charlie were easy, always, now that he wasn’t trying to run away from things, but sometimes the others were more difficult. Everyone, even Fred, had accepted Charlie’s enhanced role in her life. Hermione had been pleasantly surprised that the twins shared their time and even bedspace with their older brother with little complaint.

The others rotated time with her on the schedule Percy had created. It was exhausting, but fulfilling. She just wished she had more time for each of them. She hadn’t spent time with the rest of her original trio in ages. Ginny never had enough of her time and was needier than ever with the pregnancy.

Thank Merlin Bill and Fleur were wrapped up in each other lately. And Percy was busy enough with the Ministry and his relationship with Kingsley that he only requested biweekly sessions for the purpose of “training” her. The very thought made Hermione squirm in anticipation of their next session… which was still days away.

With a sigh, she set all of that aside.

Today was about Harry. And little Teddy, of course. To honor Remus, it had been determined that this ritual, best done at night, would specifically be done under a full moon. July’s moon would have been best, but the weather hadn’t cooperated, and August’s was still auspicious enough. Plus, Harry and Andromeda wanted it done as soon as possible. She knew the woman who had become like a mother to them all was anxious to have Teddy magically tied to Harry in case she were unable to care for him.

Unfortunately, with the handful of Death Eaters still on the loose, it was a very real possibility that something might happen. There had been a few close calls for them and their political allies. Hermione huffed at the fact she still wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without an escort.

It turned out that going from completely independent and on the run to being smothered by a huge family was annoying — but also somehow made her feel not enough, as she still felt pulled in too many directions. In addition to caring for her spice, Hermione had been busy helping the Muggleborn Coalition and Bill’s werewolf sanctuary. And the rebuilding of Hogwarts. And learning as much about House Black as Harry felt it was safe for her to delve into. Bill was still sorting through the Black library, breaking the curses, especially those that could hurt a muggleborn like her. Harry hadn’t even dared touch the Black Family Legacies — a four volume set — for fear it wouldn’t accept a halfblood.

At least he had taken the time to study his own Potter Legacies now. That’s where a lot of tonight’s ritual was coming from. Hermione knew her best friend was nervous that he would somehow get things wrong, but she was confident he would pull this ritual off without a hitch. Harry always came through when something was important — and that was definitely Teddy.

Living with them in Emberhaven, the baby was doted on by everyone, but the bond between him and Harry was particularly strong. It was as though Teddy knew he was supposed to be close to him.

For her part, Hermione adored Teddy, but it was hard to spend much time with him when there were so many others needing her. Usually it only happened if she was multi-tasking to see Harry as well.

She finished braiding her hair and headed for the door. There was too much to do today to dawdle around.

*********

“Special delivery!” George called out as he stepped out of the Floo into Melissa’s office. Though Sandy would be using as much of their product as her counterpart, Melissa had the storage space to keep the Pygmy Packers out of sight from all muggles, so this was where he brought them.

He wasn’t sure what their arrangement was for transportation between offices, but thankfully that wasn’t his problem. The Pygmy Packers were delightful — their breeding turning out even better than he and Fred had originally hoped — but they were heavy!

“Oh, thank goodness!” Melissa said. “I was getting worried you wouldn’t make it before my muggle clients began arriving.”

“I’m surprised you have space in your schedule for muggles with all of us seeing you,” George commented. Much of the family beyond the Trio had begun seeing Melissa and he knew she had lots of other magical clients as well.

Melissa sighed and he noticed how tired she looked. “I can’t just abandon the clients I had before. But you’re right. I really could just see wixen these days.”

“And are the charms still helping? And the Packers?”

“Oh yes! I wish I could use them with the muggles, they’re so effective!” Melissa enthused. “I really appreciate that the two of you have gone out of your way to make these products. And yes,” she cut off the protest he was about to make, “I know you’re still making some money, but I also know you’re taking far less than you could easily charge. There’s more to you than jokes and pranks.”

George felt himself blush as she wagged her finger at him. “Now, you don’t have to go spilling all our secrets like that,” he told her, trying to hide his burning face.

Of course it was important to the two of them that they do their part for the recovery efforts. And what was more important than recovering the actual people? So many had been hurt so badly, but they didn’t have to stay with the hurt, pain, and fear.

She shook her head at him. “Fine, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to, but you really should receive some kind of recognition.”

Shrugging, George said, “We get plenty of recognition for the pranks already.”

“How is the new shop coming?” she asked.

His face lit up. The Hogsmeade shop might be his favorite thing to talk about these days. Besides Hermione, of course. “It’s going great,” he told her. “Just a bit more signage to put up and shelves to stock and we’ll be ready. We were thinking of a soft opening the week after Hogwarts starts, when things slow down at Diagon, and then the Grand Opening on the first Hogsmeade weekend.”

Melissa grinned at him. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Oh, it will be,” he said with certainty. He and Fred were rolling out several of their new products exclusively at this location. He just wished they had the communication watches ready. The answers to make them usable in a broad spectrum were just being a little elusive. They would figure it out eventually. He and Fred always did.

********

Ginny bustled out of the shop, happy that she had the rest of the day off now that George was back. There was so much to do to get Teddy ready for tonight.

She adored that boy. It was amazing to her that she would soon be mothering two little ones. Not that Teddy was hers exactly, but he belonged to Harry, so Ginny had vowed to consider him as one of her own as well.

Of course, she still wasn’t sure what that meant in their giant family. Yes, of course she would love and care for both babies. But she was young for this, she knew. And, she had plans for her life. She could still be a mother to them while she played Quidditch, but it would be hard.

Honestly, Ginny had been afraid she didn’t have enough maternal instincts to make a good mother — until Teddy came into their lives. He would always be her first for that reason.

So she was very grateful to have the freedom to wander Diagon Alley — with an Auror following, she noticed. Harry must have arranged that, but she wasn’t going to complain. She had business to do, and between the Death Eaters, the people who hated werewolves and considered Teddy one, and those who wanted to oppose her family politically, Ginny knew she had plenty of potential enemies on the street.

Holding her head high, she headed toward the apothecary. It was her duty to pick up a few dried sprigs of Melodious Prickleburr for the potion Harry would be brewing with Hermione’s help. Then would come the fun shopping!

Teddy’s outfit tonight was from Andromeda’s family, bringing his lineage into the equation, but he had Potter heirloom shoes to wear with it and Ginny had been tasked with finding something new for him to wear, too, to represent the family he was becoming a part of.

Humming as she went along, Ginny couldn’t help but smile around at everyone. It was a perfect day for a shopping trip and, she hoped, a perfect night for this ritual.

*********

Seeing Hermione enjoying the sun while waiting for him in the back garden made Charlie smile. He could never get enough of her — the sight of her, her sweet scent, Merlin, her taste. He sighed happily and the sound made Hermione turn to him.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“It’s perfect,” Charlie answered. “You’re perfect.”

And all that perfection walked straight into his open arms for a kiss. He was a very lucky man to have found his soulmate and get to spend his life with her. Sharing her with his siblings might have felt like a blow at first, but it suited them.

Charlie couldn’t get enough of her, but he still needed space. Maybe that’s why they had been fated for one another, why she was perfect for him. He kissed the top of her head then asked, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I was just watching the birds. My parents… always enjoyed birdwatching.”

That pause was telling. He knew there was something going on with her parents, Harry had let everyone know that much, but Charlie had yet to coax out of her exactly what was wrong. That she had mentioned them was enormous.

“I used to enjoy the birds at the Sanctuary,” he said, deciding to steer clear of the subject of her parents. It was apparently the right call, as her shoulders visibly relaxed as he began to list different birds — magical and mundane — that he had observed over the years.

“I haven’t had much opportunity to just observe magical creatures,” Hermione admitted with a wistful sigh as she stared off into the distance.

“Then we should spend some time doing that,” Charlie suggested as he pushed a curl behind her ear. “But right now, I think you wanted to go to Remus’ Refuge?”

“Yes, I need to,” Hermione agreed, shaking her head as she looked away from the birds in the distance.

Usually, at the Manor Hermione would be well protected by the werewolves themselves, most of whom revered her for the work she did helping Bill with his legislation. Today, though, so close to the full moon, with a house full of moody, grumpy werewolves, neither Bill nor any of the rest of them were willing to chance her going there alone.

Charlie was pleased that his schedule allowed for enough flexibility right now to accompany her. Wrapping his arms around her, he turned on his heel and apparated them to the Refuge that acted as headquarters for the Lupin Society.

The manor house before them was excessively stately, but it no longer looked as dark and foreboding as it had just a couple of months before. Some of the werewolves were excellent gardeners, coaxing beauty out all around the estate. Inside, they were redecorating so that it was light and bright, filled with whimsy and passion.

Bill and Hermione were proud of it, as were the werewolves themselves. Rightfully so. Theo Nott, the Manor’s former owner, was over the moon.

They were met with growls for a split second before the two young men guarding the front gates recognized them and let them in.

“Sorry, Mr Weasley, sir,” one of them said. Charlie hated to admit it, but he didn’t remember the man’s name.

“It’s no bother,” he responded.

“We’re happy you’re taking security seriously,” Hermione added, beaming at the two now-starstruck werewolves. Both of them blushed and ducked their heads. Charlie had to fight back a growl of his own. Merlin, he was glad he wasn’t the one with wolfish tendencies or they would all be in trouble. It wasn’t really the young wolves’ faults that their enhanced emotions made them react to their hero worship of Hermione.

“We’re just going to go talk to Thaddeus,” Charlie told them as they started off. It would have been awkward to leave them behind without saying anything, no matter how he had felt a moment ago.

“You know you don’t have to defend my honor or anything here,” Hermione quietly chided him as they walked toward the front entrance hand in hand.

There was no possible way he wanted to explain that the wolves’ pheromones reacting to her made him react to them. It was something he understood all too well from being around dragons. Instead, he just shrugged sheepishly and said, “Okay.”

“Don’t worry about me,” she assured him. “None of these people would hurt any of us.”

“I know,” he told her. And he did. The werewolves who lived here had all been vetted by Bill and Thaddeus. They were careful that the wolves here would never hurt anyone. Though the Society wanted to offer help to even the more violent werewolves eventually, only those who could live well together were offered the respite of this place.

“Hermione!” Thaddeus called from the doorway, his grin showing his delight. “Come on in! I have the things you need.” He tipped his head at Charlie as they made their way in.

They walked through the grand entryway and straight back to the study Thaddeus and Bill used as an office for the Society. Unlike its usual austere look, the office was overflowing with pale flowers.

“I know they look wilted,” Thaddeus apologized, “but they’ll perk up as soon as the moon rises.”

“Of course,” Hermione agreed, running a hand over one of the buds. “Were you able to find any moonstones?”

“Yes. Theo was right that his father had a collection of rare stones hidden here. Some are of considerably more value than these simple moonstones,” he said.

“We just need moonstones for the ritual,” Hermione assured him.

“True, but would you like some of the other gemstones? Theo said we could give you any you wanted.”

Hermione looked startled, but then shook her head. “I can’t imagine what I would want gemstones for.”

Charlie’s eyes met Thaddeus’ over her head and the werewolf gave a tiny nod. Hermione might not understand what to do with a gemstone, but to Charlie’s way of thinking, it was past time they gave her some jewelry — preferably some pieces that would become Weasley heirlooms. Clearly, Thaddeus agreed. Charlie would have to discuss it with the others.

For now, he stood and held things for Hermione — bundles of moonflowers, the little bag full of moonstones, and several vials of werewolf drool. Charlie vaguely wondered if it had the same potency when it came from a werewolf in human form, but he wasn’t here to question. Potions had never been his strong suit and he knew that Hermione would have figured out all the variables.

Technically, the Potter ritual didn’t call for all of the moon-related items, but Harry had been insistent that this ritual would honor Remus as well. And Tonks — Andromeda had several things dear to herself and to Ted as well as things that had belonged to Tonks herself that would be added to the potion or somewhere in the Ritual Circle with them.

Personally, Charlie only knew the details that pertained to moving things around, but he had gotten the gist of the rest of it. He started to ask if that was about all when shouts came from the formal sitting room — or what used to be formal.

It was full of werewolves now, some lounging about, but most gathered around two very angry men who were snarling and punching at one another. Most of the werewolves had never had the opportunity to train their magic properly, and perhaps at moments like this, that wasn’t all bad.

“What is the meaning of this?” Thaddeus demanded, stepping into the middle of the two circling men. They both stopped, but neither dropped their eyes from their opponent.

Neither answered either. But a woman with dirty blond hair sighed and said, “It’s me. I’ve been dating both of them — they both knew — but I haven’t chosen and, while that’s okay usually—”

“Not the night of the full moon,” Thaddeus finished, nodding his understanding. Looking at the two men, he asked, “Are you going to let your wolves ride you? Even with the wolfsbane?”

“She’s ready for pups,” one of them muttered, then shook his head and corrected, “a baby.”

The woman blushed. “It’s true that my cycle has lined up with the moon’s since I was bitten. The wolfsbane hasn’t fixed that. I’m ovulating right now and well, everyone here knows it but those two.” She gestured to Charlie and Hermione and he blinked.

He should have realized that’s what they meant. The men could smell that she was ready. They could… oh Merlin. Before he could think better of it, he asked, “Do werewolves… mate during the night of the full moon?”

“They do if they want pups,” Thaddeus explained after an awkward pause. Charlie definitely shouldn’t have asked that so bluntly. “Human babies, well, those are hard to get between two werewolves since the male wolf is most virile on the night of the full moon.”

Could this be the answer for Bill and Fleur? They were still devastated every month when she wasn’t pregnant. But Bill wouldn’t go near her or Hermione on the full moon, thinking he might lose control of himself and hurt them. Maybe he needed to rethink that strategy with Fleur.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie apologized. “I didn’t mean to ask a rude question.”

“It’s not something we tell outsiders,” one of the wolves from the fight said, sneering at Charlie and Hermione. He felt himself step in front of Hermione before she had the chance to protest.

“The Weasleys aren’t outsiders,” another wolf declared, nodding at Thaddeus to let him know she agreed with his decision.

“Still, is there anything we can do to make amends?” Hermione asked.

The very offer seemed to appease most of them. The quieter wolf from the fight was eying the woman who he had been dating. Gruffly, he turned to Hermione. “I ask for your blessing, Hermione Granger.”

“I’m a Weasley now,” she answered automatically.

He nodded, but pressed, “Your blessing?”

“My blessing for what?” she asked, confused.

The werewolves grumbled amongst themselves, but it was the woman who explained, “Amongst the packs, if a male wolf seeks favor with a female, he can go to someone she reveres and ask for their blessing.”

“Like muggle men asking a girl’s father for her hand?” Hermione mused.

“Much like that, yes. The woman still has the right to say no, but it might sway her opinion,” Thaddeus said, watching them closely.

Hermione took a long moment, turning that information over. “Without knowing you, it’s hard to know if I should give you my blessing,” she said slowly.

The man looked sad, but nodded in acceptance. The other man preened, a superior smile spreading across his face.

“I don’t think I need your blessing to decide,” the woman suddenly announced. “Chris, I want you. I want… I’d like to try for a human baby, but I want to run with you tonight.”

The quiet man looked surprised, but a slow smile spread across his face. “The wolfsbane makes it so we don’t have to run, you know.”

“I know. But I want to. With you. Only you,” the woman told him.

Charlie felt like they were intruding on a very personal moment, and Hermione clearly did, too. She caught his eye and they both began backing out of the room. With Thaddeus busy with the other werewolves, they went back to the study and finished collecting things.

He caught up with them just before they left. “I’m sure you need to get these things to the Ritual Circle,” Thaddeus said, “but I have one more thing to contribute. It’s just a little thing, but I think…” From his pocket, he pulled out a small pouch. “I went to the old Shrieking Shack where Remus used to turn. I can’t guarantee the fur there was his, but I don’t believe any other werewolf ever used the place.”

Hermione opened the pouch just enough to pull out a tuft of werewolf fur. She gasped and tears gathered in her eyes. “We didn’t have much from him to contribute.”

“Now you do,” Thaddeus said gently, patting her hand as he pushed the fur back inside the pouch and pulled it shut again. “You can use it however you see fit, but I suggest putting it on a cord around Teddy’s neck.”

Hermione nodded, too overcome to speak. Instead, Charlie was the one to say, “Thank you for this. You know how much it means—”

“I do. Now get out of here and get to work making sure Remus’ son has a dad he’ll be able to remember.”

********

Fred was pleased when he and George apparated to the Potter lands. Hermione and Charlie had obviously been here awhile already, based on the way the Circle had been strewn with moonflowers. Good. If she was ahead of schedule, she would be more willing to stop long enough to take care of her own needs.

“We’ve brought food!” George called as they came closer.

The wards had apparently fallen when Potter Manor burned down, but Harry had used the Potter Legacies to put up a new one, keying each of them into it. They could land anywhere on the property now — except the Ritual Circle itself. It was sacred, as such circles needed to be.

Hermione looked up from where she was arranging flowers, her smile glowing in a way the flowers did not out here in the sun. Charlie grinned as well, looking distinctly relieved to see them.

“About time you two showed up,” he teased.

Fred grinned back at him. “We had our own things to gather.”

“And you’ll be helping with the potion this afternoon, too, right?” Hermione prompted. She looked entirely too worried about it.

“Of course,” he told her. “Relax, wifey.” Fred slipped his hands onto her shoulders and was rewarded by feeling her melt against him after only a few moments. “We’re here to help and to make sure you’re looking after yourself.”

“I’m looking after myself just fine,” she claimed, but Charlie was shaking his head. She glared at him as she added, “We’re even ahead of schedule.”

“You haven’t eaten though, have you?” George asked.

Her rumbling stomach answered and they all laughed.

Leaning in to kiss her, Charlie said, “I have to get going. I’m picking up Ginny and then have a shipment of kneazle kittens coming in this afternoon. I’ll be back for the ritual.”

When he had departed, Fred guided Hermione out of the circle to the picnic blanket that George had been setting up. They had a wide spread of delicious foods — pork pies, crisps, fruit, veggies, and delicate little dessert cakes from the bakery they knew was Hermione’s favorite guilty pleasure.

Based on her squeal of approval, they had done well. Fred shared a grin with George as he eased himself onto the blanket beside her.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Hermione protested.

“When we do things for you, it’s never because we have to,” George told her.

“It’s because we want to,” Fred finished.

“Oh, I get twin talk today?”

“Every—”

“—day,” they answered.

She laughed at them as she began to nibble at the food she had gathered onto her plate. “You know,” she said, “I actually haven’t heard the two of you talk that way in some time.”

Fred felt a pulse of confusion from his twin and their eyes met. “Does it bother you?” Fred asked slowly.

“No. It’s just… odd after knowing the two of you for years and how you’ve always talked before.”

“We had a little talk,” George began.

“—after the battle—”

“—after you saved us—”

“—that we were going to work on—”

“—being more individual.” George finished their twin statement, leaving Hermione’s jaw dropped.

“When did you discuss that? And why didn’t I know?” she asked after a moment.

“You were busy with some of the others,” Fred explained.

“And the conversation took a few days. It took a while to gather our thoughts about it.” George said with a nod. “We had always lived pretty much as though we were one. And even though we get to share you the same way, there are differences between the two of us—”

“—that are more obvious now than they used to be—” Fred interrupted.

“—that we decided deserved to be explored.”

“And the longer we go without twin speaking, the easier it is to find those differences, don’t you think, Twin-O-Mine?”

“Always, Freddie,” George responded with a smile.

“We’re still happy to put on our twin personas when we’re putting on a show for the shop. And sometimes it’s easy to forget and slip back into it even among the family,” Fred assured her.

“But it’s also nice to be ourselves individually.”

Hermione beamed at them. “I love you both so much! Individually and together.”

“Well good,” Fred said, his eyes meeting George’s with a glint that Hermione didn’t notice. “Because we’re hoping you love us both ways.”

“I just said I do,” she laughed, then gasped when Fred’s hand slid up under the skirt she was wearing.

“Good,” George said, moving closer until he pulled her onto his lap. “Because we want to love you in all the ways.”

“Boys,” she admonished, “I have to get the circle just right—”

“You said you were ahead of schedule earlier,” Fred pointed out. They would stop if she absolutely said no, of course, but he had a feeling that wasn’t really what she wanted.

“Well, yes, but we have the potion to—” She cut off with a gasp as George pulled her hair to the side and dragged his teeth along the crook of her neck.

“I promise we’ll get it done,” Fred assured her. “After we’re done with you.”

“Do you want us to stop?” George asked, his words low and sensual right at Hermione’s ear as his hands wandered under her top.

“No,” she whimpered. Before she could find the air to protest that they should still wait until later, Fred crawled forward and captured her mouth in a kiss.

As he thoroughly distracted her, he felt George’s hands moving and heard a couple of whispered spells. By the time Fred pulled back, Hermione’s body was bare in the sunshine, spread between them like she was the picnic they were here to enjoy.

“Georgie, you didn’t tell me you brought a special dessert just for us,” he exclaimed, making Hermione’s skin blush all the way down her uncovered chest.

“What if Harry apparates in?” she asked, a little nervous.

“Has he really never seen you before?” Fred asked in surprise. Surely, with all that time together in the tent…

“No,” she told them as primly as she could manage under the circumstances. “Harry would never take advantage of me!”

“Is that what we’re doing?” George asked her. “Taking advantage of you?”

Grinning slyly, Hermione asked, “How else am I supposed to interpret this? The two of you come along, offer me food and then capture me between the two of you, naked, and imply you’re going to have your wicked way with me.”

“Oh, we’re going to do much more than imply,” Fred assured her.

“Unless you don’t want us,” George added, a pout on his lips. Fred rolled his eyes. As if there were any world where she didn’t want the two of them. They had more than established that she very much did.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione answered by turning in his lap and kissing George thoroughly, leaving herself exposed to Fred. He wasted no time running his hands over her lower half, enjoying the goosebumps that washed over her body at his touch and the way she wriggled her arse for him.

She might have things to get done, but by now, she trusted them enough to know they wouldn’t take up too much of her time — especially since she was so very good at multi-tasking with them. Fred slid his fingers along her slick slit, one finger coming back to the top to roll over her clit again and again, making Hermione moan into her kiss with George.

He pulled back just enough to ask her, “Do you want to keep kissing, or would you like my cock?”

“Your cock, please,” Hermione answered George. She still blushed when she said it and that spread of color would always make them both harder than anything.

“And mine, too?” Fred queried. Usually he would give it a little more time to warm her up to being between them, but honestly he was nervous about the potion as well.

“Y-yes,” Hermione agreed, hesitating just slightly. It might have been from the building orgasm Fred was stoking, but a glance to his twin confirmed that George didn’t think that either.

“Are you worried about something?” George asked.

“I’m just not sure I can take you both right now. I’m sore from Charlie last night and Bill the night before and—”

“Don’t you worry, beautiful,” George said. “We can just pleasure you if that’s what you want instead.”

“No,” she cried out in answer as her first small orgasm rippled over her. Fred loved how responsive she was.

“You don’t want us to just keep giving you orgasm after orgasm?” Fred asked when she was breathing a bit more normally. He had given her a bit of a reprieve, letting her clit rest and recover before going back in. Perhaps he would suck on it next.

“No, please,” Hermione told them and it brought both of them to a stop.

“Hermione, love, we can stop,” George assured her.

“No,” she said again. “I want… I want both of you to come inside me. I just don’t think I can take you both… down there. I… could I suck you off, George, while Fred uses my pussy?”

Merlin, Fred loved it when she used her words like that. “Of course,” George agreed readily. Fred was well aware his twin loved those words from her sweet mouth even more. And the feel of that mouth around his cock.

Personally, Fred was pleased with where his cock would be, too. He could never get enough of claiming her over and over. But he wasn’t quite ready for that yet. Time crunch or no, he wanted to taste his dessert first.

As Hermione moved onto her hands and knees to focus on George, Fred rolled onto his back and moved forward under her.

“Fred! What are you doing?” she gasped in surprise.

He grinned up at her and said, “Letting you ride my face.”

“But you’re supposed to come, too,” she protested.

“Oh, I will,” he assured her. “Inside you, even, since that’s what you want. But I need to taste you first, lovely.”

“You could have already—” she began in her best bossy tone, but George nudged her lips with his cock.

“I think you’ve argued enough, Hermione,” he said, his tone one of command. She obeyed instantly. She was such a good girl. Fred would have told her so, as he had learned lately she liked to hear, but his mouth was suddenly very occupied as well. He would have to show her how good she was.

Fred loved this position. He loved that within a few moments, she had lost herself and fully sat on his face, bouncing in time with her own ministrations to George. Meanwhile, his twin was keeping a running commentary going.

“That’s right, love, suck me deep. You’re such a good girl for me, Hermione, for both of us. Ride him hard and take your pleasure. Pretty soon he’ll be riding you instead while you keep choking on my cock…”

It went on, but Fred couldn’t focus when Hermione’s hips stuttered as she came apart. If he were merciful, he would let her come down from the high and then give her his cock, but he wasn’t in a very merciful mood.

Instead, Fred pushed her through three more orgasms, each more intense than the last from the way she wriggled and moaned and gasped around George’s cock. His brother’s words were becoming more repetitive, his tone tight from holding back, when George commanded him, “That’s enough, Fred. Fuck her already. I can’t hold out much longer.”

Hermione was shaking too hard to move her body up and off of him, but between himself and George, Fred managed to move her and turn his body so that he could line up his rock hard cock with her dripping cunt. He was honestly glad George had called it as Fred wasn’t certain how much longer he could have held out without coming apart himself.

The moment he sheathed his cock in her wet, warm walls, it was a fight to maintain his dignity. He could tell from the way George’s eyes were rolling back that he was nearly done for as well. “That’s right, good girl,” Fred said as he pumped wildly into her welcoming pussy. “See what you’re doing to Georgie. He’s ready for you to finish him off. Suck harder, good girl.”

He could tell she took the words to heart. Not that she had much choice since every slam of his own hips pushed her harder onto George. Suddenly, Fred couldn’t hold his orgasm back any longer, and he knew it was at least halfway because George was so far gone, too. The ricocheting feelings through the bond the three of them shared made all of them scream at the same moment, their bodies rigid as a world-shattering orgasm rocked through each of them.

Fred collapsed backward onto the ground even as George bent forward and wrapped Hermione in a loving embrace. He was happy to let them have a moment while he lounged on the picnic blanket. Might even have a snack… except that looking to the side to see what was left gave him a full view of Harry Potter gaping at the three of them, arms full of packages no doubt for the ritual later on.

From his gobsmacked expression, Fred could tell he had been standing there a little longer than might be ideal. George and Hermione were still wrapped up in each other, so he took it upon himself to let them know.

“Hi Harry. Enjoying the view?” Fred asked him nonchalantly as he magicked his own clothes back into place. He had never fully taken them off, so it wasn’t hard to straighten them. Hermione and George were much more exposed.

George’s head jerked up, his eyes finding Harry’s before he pulled Hermione closer against his body as she squeaked in distress. Harry was still staring at them as though trying to determine if they were real.

“What are you doing here?” George asked.

Harry blinked. “What am I doing here? On my ancestral land? When we’re all supposed to be preparing for my ritual?” His voice pitched upward as he spoke, but his eyes never left Hermione and George.

“Well I suppose that’s a fair point,” George mumbled sheepishly. Fred couldn’t help but laugh, finally drawing Harry’s attention away from the other two.

“Be a good friend and turn around so they can get dressed and we can get back to business,” he instructed.

For a moment, he thought Harry was going to protest, but then he flushed red with embarrassment and turned around, arms still full of the packages he carried. Taking pity on him, Fred stood from the blanket and walked over to divest him of the largest of them — interestingly portrait-sized — as George and Hermione scrambled back into their clothes.

As soon as she was ready, Hermione came up to them. “Harry, I’m so sorry,” she began, but he held up his hand.

“Don’t. Please. Let’s just… finish preparing the Circle and then get this potion ready.”

Things were tense as they worked together to finish the preparations, but Fred did his best to lighten the mood, pranking George through some clever spellwork into having the biggest mustache any of them had ever seen, so big it threw off his balance.

It worked. Soon they were all laughing together and, by the time George declared he needed to get back to the shop, the tension was gone.

“Does that mean it’s time for the potion?” Fred asked. If there was a quaver of nervousness in his voice, he wasn’t going to mention it. This was an important potion and he was here to make sure it turned out right.

“It is,” Harry confirmed.

“Which means it’s time for me,” came a muffled grumble in a voice Fred hadn’t anticipated hearing. Harry gave him an apologetic smile as he moved to unwrap the portrait he had brought. As it turned out, it wasn’t a Potter ancestor, as Fred had assumed. It was Snape.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Harry rushed to tell Fred. “Just… he’s a master, you know, and I thought… this potion is really important and—”

“I understand, Harry,” Fred cut in gently.

“Dunderheads like the lot of you shouldn’t be doing important potions unsupervised,” Snape said, finally unwrapped and propped against one of the Stones of the Circle.

“I thought I was the least dunderheaded—” Fred started, puffing out his chest.

“Which still makes you a dunderhead,” Snape argued. Fred couldn’t hold back his grin. He’d missed this bastard.

“Um… if the timing I’ve written down is right, we need to get the potion started now,” Harry interrupted.

“Let me see it,” Snape demanded and Hermione brought him the sheet Harry had faithfully copied from the Potter Legacy — complete with Hermione’s own modifications — and held it up for the portrait to peruse. Snape quizzed her on the changes she had made, then nodded. “Well, what are you all waiting for? Get to work!”

Soon, they were standing around a bubbling cauldron, the packages Harry and Hermione had brought lying open as the ingredients had all been added. “Now it’s just a matter of timing,” Fred said happily. He did love a good brew.

“I’ll work on cleaning everything up,” Hermione volunteered.

“And I can take old Snapey back to where he belongs,” Fred suggested.

“You will not call me ‘Snapey.’ Or ‘old.’ I lost the ability to grow old, you might have noticed.”

“I did, old chap,” Fred sniggered. “Now, are you ready to get out of here?”

“I’m ready to have a break from dunderheads again,” the portrait snapped.

Fred just grinned — and then grinned harder as he came to a sudden realization. This was going to be too fun.

*********

Harry stirred the sludge inside the cauldron counterclockwise, peering at his notes again just to be sure that it was supposed to look like that.

“The notes still say the same thing as they did a few moments ago,” Hermione chided gently. “You’ve done a splendid job of it. Almost like 6th year again.”

“Well, having the Half Blood Prince help in person — or near enough — really makes that possible.”

“Or you’ve learned from him and are getting better at potions,” Hermione said, nudging him with her shoulder. Harry sucked in a quick breath at her touch, but let it out again fast.

There was nothing weird about her touching him. Just because he couldn’t forget seeing her naked between the twins didn’t mean anything had actually changed.

Harry had always been so careful to respect Hermione’s privacy. And she had carefully guarded that privacy. It was an unspoken agreement between them. If he didn’t know better, he would think that whole thing was orchestrated on purpose.

Not just to see Hermione, though. There was also… him. Harry knew it didn’t make much sense to be attracted to only one of the twins. They were identical, after all. He had full visual confirmation of that now. But something about George’s personality pulled him. Seeing him with Hermione, and how protective he had been of her body afterward, when they realized he was there watching like some voyeur? Well, that had been just as much of a turn on.

Uncomfortably aware that he was getting aroused — again — Harry tried to refocus on the project at hand. Those were not thoughts he needed today. This was about Teddy and himself. It was about the sacred godparent bond.

It made him think of Sirius, of how much the man had meant to him, flaws and all. Of how much he wished he had Sirius’ guidance now. Neither of them really knew how to be a godfather or a godson, how to have a real family, but they were both determined to try.

He was going to be there for Teddy in all the ways he had been desperate for someone to help him as a child. He knew he was already becoming that person, but this ritual would solidify it.

“Harry?” Hermione prompted and he realized she must have been talking.

“What?” he asked, trying to avoid looking in her eyes.

“This is going to go perfectly. You’re already such a good godfather — everything Remus and Tonks could have hoped for, and everything that Teddy needs,” she told him.

A warm glow went through him at her words. If Hermione said it, it had to be true. She was always right about everything. It was something Harry had accepted over the years.

“Thank you,” he told her simply, giving her a brief hug as emotions washed over him.

“Now, Andromeda will be here soon with Teddy, as well as everyone else. Do you want to go over the ritual one more time?”

“Yes, please,” he replied.

An hour later, with the sun setting in the sky, Harry donned the thin ceremonial robes that were apparently necessary for all rituals to put you as close to your “natural form” as possible while still offering some coverage from the eyes of spectators.

There were lots of those tonight. Their entire extended family was observing the ritual. All the Weasleys, even Murial and Molly, were here. Kingsley. Harry felt guilty that none of the werewolves could be here for this, but for obvious reasons, he wasn’t chancing it. Much as Thaddeus and the others acknowledged that Teddy was his as Remus intended, their werewolf instincts might persuade them to claim Teddy as their own. That wasn’t happening.

Hermione nodded at him after staring up at the stars for a long moment. It was time.

Harry stepped up to the altar where Teddy lay, held in place with a sticking charm. While the baby would normally protest, he seemed to understand the significance of this night and grinned his two-toothed grin up at Harry.

Chanting in latin, Harry dipped a moonstone in the sludgy potion they had created, and used it to draw runes on the giggling baby before him. Magic hummed through the air, waiting for his next words.

“Edward Remus Lupin,” Harry intoned back in English, “From this day forward, I, Harry James Potter, claim you as a son of my heart, a member of my pack, and the future of the Marauders who came before us. Further, though you will forever be a child of House Lupin, you will also grow as a ward of House Potter, forever claimed by those of my House as well. I will forever be your godfather, but I hope to be much more.”

He felt the magic of the Circle accept the bond, singing in his blood.

Unsticking Teddy from the altar with a quickly whispered spell, Harry scooped him up and turned to those gathered before them. “I present to you my godson, Teddy, who will forever have a place with me.”

Everyone cheered and Harry felt his heart fill with love. They had done it. Teddy was his now in the name of Magic, witnessed by everyone who mattered.

********

Bill squeezed Fleur close as tears tracked down her cheeks at the sight of Teddy with Harry as his magically accepted godfather. Anything to do with babies was hard for her these days — hard for both of them, really. He was grateful they had Teddy in their lives. And Ginny and Harry’s baby soon enough, but they still wanted one of their own.

“We can go now if you want,” Bill whispered to his wife.

“There will be celebrating,” Fleur whispered back.

“Which means no one will notice if we’re gone. We can have a nice evening to cuddle,” he suggested.

“Or we could try again,” Fleur asked. He could hear the hope in her voice, but there was no way. Not tonight. He might hurt her.

Regretfully, Bill said, “Not tonight, mon amour.”

“You might want to rethink that,” Charlie said, startling both of them.

“What?” Bill asked, confused that his brother would insert himself in such a sensitive topic. It wasn’t in Charlie’s nature to meddle, not where he was concerned anyway.

“When we were at Remus’ Refuge earlier, we had an impromptu lesson on werewolf biology. As it turns out, male werewolves are most likely to get someone pregnant on the night of the full moon.”

Bill blinked, turning that information over in his head. He wanted to ask how that had become a topic, but Fleur was pulling at him insistently. “Tonight,” she said, and the look in her eyes was predatory. His wolf responded before Bill had time to think about any of it rationally.

“I’ll make your excuses,” Charlie said with a grin.

Before Bill could protest, they were home. Emberhaven was dark. She undoubtedly wasn’t expecting any of them to be home so soon when the party was on the Potter lands, but a light came on as they stood there with Fleur’s body pressed against him, her heart beating rapidly in that way that told him her Veela was present.

The first insistent tapping at the window was ignored, as well as the second and third. They were halfway undressed right there in the sitting room when Fleur gave in to the owl. Well, what they thought would have been an owl. Instead, it was a bird Bill didn’t recognize.

Fleur clearly did, though, as she gasped and took the letter from it hurriedly. A smile broke across her features and she exclaimed, “Zis eez perfect! Eet eez a night to celebrate indeed!”

“What is it?” Bill asked curiously.

To his surprise, she shook her head. “I need to deescuss with ‘Arry.”

“Harry?”

“Yes,” she said simply, sliding the letter back into its envelope and tucking it away in her pile of clothes on the floor. “Now where were we?”

“I think I was about to scoop you up and take you to our room to be ravaged,” Bill replied before he could think better of it. He worried about losing control of his enhanced speed and strength with her, but now that her Veela was out, he didn’t worry as much. Fleur could hold her own against him.

Fleur smiled up at him as she said, “Zen what are you waiting for?”

Grinning, Bill stopped waiting, pushing her onto the nearest sofa and doing everything in his power to make her fall apart so he could ravage her properly without worrying so much that he would hurt her.

“Beel, stop playing with me. I want you!” she protested.

“And I want you to come for me,” he countered.

“Eet eez not so easy when my Veela eez een control. She knows what we want.”

Bill’s cock twitched, knowing exactly what he wanted right now — and for their future — but the desire for the immediate gratification of coming inside her was almost overwhelming. “I need to take this slowly,” he protested.

“No, you do not, mon amour. You need to be your wild self and I weel match you.”

Her words seemed to light a fire inside him. Bill slotted himself at her entrance and lost himself within moments. The way he pushed into her, rutting her as a wolf would, and listening to her cry out with desire for more… It wasn’t long before Bill couldn’t hold out any longer, toying with her clit to make sure they came together before he collapsed on top of her.

“Zat was a good start,” Fleur said after she caught her breath. “Come, Beel. We should go to our room for ze rest.”

“The rest?” he asked, his brain fuzzy.

“Oh yes,” Fleur replied. “Eet eez going to be a very busy night. My Veela eensists.”

Chapter 58

Sunday, August 9th

Sunday mornings were slow at the shop, a fact that allowed George to get more work done — mostly restocking after their busy Saturdays, but sometimes working on new products or special projects.

This particular Sunday, George had hoped there would even be time to work upstairs for a bit now that Ginny was here. They needed to get it cleared so that Lee could move in when he took over managing this location and George and Fred moved permanently to the Hogsmeade shop.

In his wildest imaginings, George couldn’t have foreseen that he would walk into the backroom only to hear Severus Snape shouting at the top of his lungs.

“When I find out where you’ve put me, you dunderheaded pillock, I will make sure you never—”

George wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the end of the Professor’s threat would be, so he called out, “Professor Snape?”

The voice paused, then sneered, “Who else would I be?”

“Can you tell me where you are?” George asked, looking around the backroom, searching high and low.

“Of course I bloody well cannot,” the portrait cursed. “If I knew where I were, I would—”

“Still not have been able to do much of anything since you’re a portrait,” George cut him off again. He was relieved to have realized the truth of his late Professor’s situation, even if he didn’t know yet where Fred had stashed the man.

“You should remember perfectly well where you put me,” Snape scolded him.

George just shrugged as he looked behind and in between boxes. Then, realizing the painting couldn’t see the gesture, he said, “If I were my diabolical twin, I’m sure I would know. But I’m George, so I wasn’t around for this particular prank.”

“Prank? Prank!? You think it’s a prank to kidnap a Professor?” Snape squawked.

“I’m sure Headmistress McGonagall will be no more amused than you are,” George said placatingly — and it was true, “but I have to find you before we can get you back to her. Did Fred say anything before he hid you?”

“I wouldn’t know,” the painting grumbled. “When he silenced me, I stopped being able to hear him as well. A relief, mind you, but annoying under the circumstances.”

“There you are!” George said triumphantly as he pulled the heavy painting from between a cabinet and a box. “I don’t know what in Merlin’s name Fred was thinking—”

“He wanted to show off the magical framed quote from when I — mistakenly — told him he was the least dunderheaded of you,” Snape explained indignantly.

Holding back a snicker, George nodded. “He is rather proud of it.”

“Well, I take it back!” the professor raged.

They were both caught off guard when they heard a laugh and Fred joined them. “No take-backsies,” he sing-songed, making Professor Snape growl within his portrait. If the man had been alive, Fred would be in danger right now.

George shook his head at his twin, but Fred just grinned. “Come on, Snapey, don’t you get bored in that castle? You’ve got to get out and live a little. George! We should take him out to a pub with us.”

The man in the painting was sputtering now. “You will do no such thing!”

“Ahhh, come on,” Fred teased. “You’re a hero now thanks to wee little Potter. The ladies would love to spend some time with you.”

Snarling, Snape responded, “No ladies have ever wanted to spend time with me, and I quite prefer it that way.”

“I’m sure some gentleman would enjoy a cozy night snuggled up with you, too. Stuff of dreams, that is,” Fred went on.

“Fred, I think that’s—” George began when another person burst into the room.

Ginny had her wand drawn as she demanded, “What’s going on? Who’s yelling back here?”

“Just our favorite Professor, Snape,” Fred said, grabbing the painting and turning it to look at her.

“Oi! I have to go to school with him this year!” Ginny yelled at them. “What’s he going to do to me now?”

“Detention every night for the entire year if you don’t stop your screeching,” the Professor snapped.

Ginny glared at him. “I was going to help you,” she said, then turned and walked out as Snape tried to summon her back. Fred laughed so hard he dropped the painting and George had to jump forward to grab it.

“This has been amusing,” George said, “but we should really get him back up to the school. You should take him back up to the school.”

“You just don’t want to face McGonagall,” Fred said.

“For something you pulled on your own?” George asked with a raised brow. “You’re right. I don’t want anything to do with that.”

Fred pulled a face. “Maybe I could just sneak him in during the workday tomorrow.”

“What would we do with him until then?”

“Ask for his help, of course,” Fred said with a grin.

“I wouldn’t help you if—”

“Fine, you don’t have to,” Fred answered. He shrugged casually and said, “This one’s probably beyond you anyway.”

Snape narrowed his eyes. “What’s beyond me? Is it a potion? It certainly is not beyond my capabilities.”

Fred’s eyes met George’s and, though he was shaking his head, George said, “You don’t even know what we’re brewing.”

“And I don’t want to know,” Snape huffed.

“Good, because we weren’t planning on sharing,” Fred told him, then set the painting down, angling it just right so that Professor Snape would be able to see the board where they were writing their recipe, but not be able to watch them work. George was impressed with how natural Fred made the placement seem.

Then they were off, rapidly shooting their ideas back and forth, making notations on the board, Fred coming up with more and more outrageous potion possibilities until Snape couldn’t take it anymore.

“What insanity are you dunderheads trying for? Blowing up the entire wizarding world?”

“Of course not,” Fred said, his tone offended even as he winked at George before bending down to look at the Professor. “We’re building a communication device, but to allow it to be contacted by any device, we need to soak it in a location potion. The devices are in the form of watches, but they need to each be their own individualized point of contact.”

“Then why would you idiots think that Daggleweed Extract was an appropriate ingredient?” Snape asked with exasperation. “That would only confuse things more.”

“Then what ingredients do you think would work better?” George prompted.

The Professor scoffed. “I’m well aware of what you’re both doing and I have no desire to help you.”

“Even if we’re going to blow up the wizarding world by accident?” Fred asked innocently.

“With any luck, you would just blow up yourselves and your horrible shop,” he replied with a sniff.

“Oi!” the twins cried out in unison.

“The shop’s not horrible,” George continued.

“It’s brilliant, even if you don’t like the things we’ve created,” Fred said. “You more or less said so yourself when you told me I’m the least—”

“As I’ve already noted, that statement was a mistake,” Snape growled.

“Telling me might have been a mistake, but it doesn’t make it less true,” Fred informed him.

George was just about to interject with something to calm the two of them down when Snape unexpectedly shouted, “Kingamon’s Wart and Cecilwood Fern would make the potion work.”

They were both silent, staring at the portrait in shock for a long moment before Fred grinned and said, “I knew you couldn’t just stand by.”

“I don’t want anyone hurt by your idiocy,” Professor Snape said, almost primly.

The twins looked at one another and managed not to burst out laughing — barely.

*******

Ron fired three more spells in rapid succession, chaining them together so that the wand movements ran smoothly into one another. His dummy’s chest ripped open and its head fell off. He started to turn with a proud grin — until the dummy next to his burst into flame and Robards began to clap.

“Excellent work, Miss Bulstrode,” Robards said as he walked up to the two of them. Ron gaped. She was being praised? That wasn’t fair. His spells had even been wordless, a skill that had taken him almost as long to learn as the chaining effect.

He started to say something when Robards turned the weight of his stare on Ron. “You are improving, but I want to see the chain run faster.”

“That wasn’t fast enough?” Ron protested.

“Not for a fight with Death Eaters.”

“I’ve fought Death Eaters,” Ron argued.

“And lived out of luck,” Robards told him in no uncertain terms. “You’re a good fighter, but you need more speed. You need to complement your partner. Miss Bulstrode—”

“Just Millie, please,” she interrupted, “and I think Ron does a good job of covering my weaknesses. Let us take on one of the fighting dummies together.”

“We usually reserve that for later in your training,” Robards said, but Ron could see that he was thinking about it. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, warning sirens went off throughout the training room.

Ron looked to Millie, but she was already one step ahead of him, rushing to the bench to shrug back into her robes. He did the same even as Robards began shouting commands. An all alert like this meant all hands on deck, even the trainees.

As they hurried, he saw a patronus blow past them until it came to Robards.

“Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries! Death Room!”

The person sounded terrified. In no time they were all running for the back staircase. The lifts were too slow. Ron had never been so thankful for all the physical training they had been doing.

He didn’t know how Robards knew which door to open in the spinning door room in the Department of Mysteries, but he was happy for it. He hadn’t relished the thought of trying all the different doors. He shuddered at the memory of the brains from fifth year.

Ron wasn’t sure how it happened, but he found himself leading the way into the Death Room. Thank Merlin, he ducked and rolled as he entered the room, acting purely on instinct as he pulled Millie with him. The trainee behind them — another former Slytherin — slumped to the ground, dead.

Looking down toward the center of the room, Ron observed that there was already another Auror on the ground, and a body near the Veil. There wasn’t time to dwell on who they might be, however, since there were five Death Eaters in the center of the room fighting for their lives. He recognized three — Dolohov, the elder Goyle, Rabastan Lestrange, and two he didn’t recognize.

There wasn’t time to watch and learn anything else as Millie whispered, “We have to help,” and leapt into action.

Ron cursed quietly as he followed her. He had wanted to make a plan, but there was nothing to be done about it now. He couldn’t let anything happen to his partner, annoying bint that she was.

Spells flew around them and Ron found himself helping Millie back one of the unnamed Death Eaters into a corner. Ron was busy shielding the two of them while also chaining spells to attack, loving that he could put use to his new skills.

A scream tore through the room as someone’s partner hit the ground — one of the older Aurors was down, bleeding out far too quickly. With that Auror down, Dolohov led the other four Death Eaters on a zigzagging path toward the door.

Only their Death Eater was still cornered, Millie viciously attacking when he tried to get by them. Ron couldn’t watch what was going on up at the top of the room, not if he was going to help Millie keep this one contained. The man was unfortunately very good at dodging their spells, even if he couldn’t quite get past them.

Finally, Ron hit him with an Incarcerous, realizing as the man toppled over that the room was eerily quiet. There was fighting out in the hallway, but the noise was distant. Instead, there were voices calling to him through the whisper of the veil. Millie clearly heard them too, as she started walking toward it.

“Millie, no!” Ron shouted, grabbing her arm as they both nearly tripped over something on the floor. They had been so wrapped up in the Veil calling to them that neither of them had even noticed the body on the floor.

This wasn’t an Auror. It was… Colin Creevy?

Ron turned to the side, his stomach heaving horribly as he emptied its contents off to the side of the Veil, too nauseated to even be tempted by the voices behind it now.

“Are you okay?” Millie asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Shrugging it off, Ron shook his head. “Do I look okay?” He ran his hands through his hair before continuing. “What’s Colin’s body doing here? He was buried a few days after the battle!”

“I don’t know,” Millie said, “but I’m sure they’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Could he… was he not dead?” Ron asked, hating how upset he sounded.

She grimaced. “No, I think he’s definitely been dead…”

Ron didn’t want to examine why she was so certain of that. One look at the body had been enough for him. Thankfully, the room filled with sound again at that moment as Robards came storming in with several senior Aurors at his back.

“Why isn’t one of you with your prisoner?” he demanded.

“We were, sir, until we realized who is here,” Millie spoke up.

How this girl hadn’t been a Gryffindor, Ron had no idea. The thought struck so suddenly, he was shocked to have it in his head. But it was true. She had bollocks of steel.

Soon there were experts removing Colin and the three dead Aurors — the older man had indeed bled out. Ron was relieved it wasn’t a job that had been given to him. Instead, Robards had instructed him and Millie to escort their prisoner to a questioning room. Thankfully, it was an easy task with the man tied as he was.

Once they had him in place, Ron knew they would be dismissed. It was now well past the end of their day and no doubt Robards wouldn’t want them to know whatever information the Death Eater had.

To his surprise, Robards snapped, “On guard in the corners, you two. You caught him, you get to observe the interrogation.”

Ron was thoroughly shocked, but intrigued. Although, with the loss of adrenaline, he was now feeling shaky and weak. He shook himself. They had to be ready to keep going, even after a fight. This was hardly his first time pushing through anyway.

Glancing over, he noticed Millie looked shaky as well and found himse\lf offering her a small smile when Robards wasn’t looking.

She blinked at him in surprise before returning it. Merlin, she was pretty when she smiled. Now it was Ron’s turn to blink, trying to get rid of the thought.

Thankfully, he was distracted as two Aurors walked into the room — Auror Bradson and Auror Prickley. Ron was well aware that Robards was watching through the observation window.

The Aurors went through all of their tactics to try and get the Death Eater to talk, but it was no use. He wondered if this would be a case where they had to resort to Veritaserum, and if Robards would signal for its usage. This was the first time they had captured a Death Eater since Rowle, so Ron suspected they would.

He was right. After some time passed, Robards himself entered the room with a tiny vial. “We’re going to get the information we need from you whether you like it or not.”

“Only if you want me to die,” the Death Eater said with a shrug.

“What?” Auror Bradson demanded.

“We’ve been eating Portuguese radishes, well known for interacting with Veritaserum in a deadly way.”

“And you’re ready to die for this?” Auror Prickley asked.

“For the cause? The greater good? Absolutely,” the Death Eater replied, looking serene.

“He’ll have to be tested for the radishes and, if what he says is true, we’ll have to wait for them to be out of his system,” Robards growled. Ron could see how much he hated being outmaneuvered by Death Eaters.

“Aurors, take him to a cell. Trainees, I’m sorry this wasn’t a better demonstration, though I hope you learned from watching their tactics nonetheless. Dismissed.”

With that, Robards turned on his heel and left. Ron let out a sigh of relief and saw that Millie was doing the same. It had been a bloody long day, even if it was only midafternoon, and he was ready to go home.

As they wearily made their way to the locker room, Ron had the sudden insane urge to ask her if she wanted to go out for drinks. Just to relieve the pressure of the day. He shook his head, reminding himself that Millie was a Slytherin bitch and not someone he wanted to spend time with.

Somehow, that thought felt more hollow than usual as they parted ways and he watched her walk off alone.

********

The sun shone outside his window and, for once, Percy wondered if he should go out and soak it in. This thought was unlike him and he had no idea where it was coming from. Perhaps it was just the fact that it looked peaceful outside for once, with his siblings all off working or who knew what.

He wondered what Hermione was up to — if she might fancy a walk in the garden and maybe even beyond.

Percy didn’t have anything pressing to do here in his study, after all. He enjoyed the room, but since he got most of his work done at work, there wasn’t a lot for him to do in here. Manage the schedule and the house inventory, a job he had taken on more for something to do than because it was needed. The house elves could have managed the groceries and household items just fine without his help.

He had dreams of turning it into a space where he could work on some of his hobbies — domination, of course, but other things, too. His old muggle stamp collection had been long neglected throughout the war, for instance.

Shaking his head, Percy pulled himself out of his musing and went in search of Hermione. She was likely in the library at this time.

To his surprise, he found her curled up in the sitting room, a book dropped open on the floor beside her, pages bent in a way that made it clear she had dropped it as she fell asleep. No long walks for her today, apparently.

Percy wasn’t sure whether he should wake her or not. But after watching her for a moment and observing the crick in her neck, he was certain of one thing: she needed to be in a proper bed for this nap. Lifting her gently, he smiled as Emberhaven made the stairs into a ramp to ease his way up to his room.

Carefully, he transferred her to his bed, smiling when she groggily looked up at him. “Percy?”

“You were asleep on the sofa, and looked uncomfortable. You should rest,” he told her.

She just nodded. “So exhausted,” Hermione agreed.

“What has you so tired, darling?”

“Up with Charlie all night. Twins yesterday. Bill. Charlie. So tired,” she rambled.

“Hush now, just sleep. I’ll wake you for dinner.”

“‘Kay,” Hermione managed before slipping back under. Apparently, it was time for him to have a little talk with his brothers again.

*******

When Percy woke her, Hermione had groaned and grumbled about having to get up. Honestly, she had thought he wanted her to play and she just couldn’t, not tonight. Even with however long she had been asleep, she couldn’t contemplate sex before a dinner at Molly’s.

When she had, as politely as she could, told him she wasn’t in the right mood for it, Percy had pressed his lips together and said, “What have my siblings been doing to you, darling?” as he petted her hair. It had been enough to make her cry at his tenderness when she had expected something so different.

An hour later, she felt vaguely embarrassed about the whole thing, especially because Percy had been so sweet and understanding and absolutely adamant that she had nothing to apologize for.

Hermione stepped out of the floo into the Burrow, already hearing Aunt Muriel lecturing Molly. It was enough to make her forget her own problems and hold back a laugh. Percy appeared to be doing the same. Their eyes met and she was surprised to find herself giggling silently with the most buttoned up of her spice.

They were both still smiling as they came into the kitchen, drawing attention to themselves so that Molly, looking relieved, took a moment to compose herself while Aunt Muriel was looking them over.

Glad that she had let Percy choose her robes for the evening, Hermione was thrilled when Aunt Muriel announced, “You’ll do well enough. Both of you.”

“Thank you, Madam Prewett,” Percy said with a bow, leaning over his old aunt’s hand.

Muriel pursed her lips, but her lips turned up at the corners as she told him to stop that. The twins walked in just in time to see that interaction and both stared with their mouths hanging open. There was no telling what they might say when they recovered themselves.

Molly saved the moment by rushing around hugging everyone, pulling the twins into the room and far from Aunt Muriel. By the time she finished fussing over them, Bill and Fleur had arrived and Hermione was relieved to see that Muriel was busy talking with them. She had always gotten on well with Fleur, and ever since she took Bill under her wing to teach him the ways of a proper Lord, she had warmed up to him as well.

As Hermione looked around at everyone, she fervently hoped that this dinner would be one of the pleasant, nostalgic ones. Molly seemed anxious this evening, undoubtedly from so much time spent with Aunt Muriel. Perhaps the rest of them should spend more time here.

Refusing to let herself shudder at that thought, Hermione decided it was something worth discussing with Bill, but not in front of anyone, not until they had a better plan. There would no doubt be a display of the Weasley temper if she brought it up at dinner.

Speaking of the Weasley temper, she was surprised to note that Ron hadn’t arrived yet. Auror Robards didn’t usually keep them long on Sundays. It was part of why they had kept the traditional Sunday dinner schedule with his Mum. An uneasy feeling settled in Hermione’s gut, though she did her best to hide it.

“What’s wrong?” George asked, scaring her as he spoke from directly behind her.

“Nothing!” she gasped, “Except some arsehole decided to sneak up on me!”

He grinned unrepentantly but shook his head. “I mean before I got over here. We can feel you, remember?” He gestured toward Fred and Charlie who were talking off to the side, both of them glancing her way entirely too often for no one else to notice.

“I was just wondering where Ron is,” she explained.

“Well, thinking about Ron would put anyone off a bit,” George joked, “but it doesn’t usually feel like this from you.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s nothing. I just feel like something is wrong. There’s no reasoning behind it, though. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid.”

George looked as worried as she did, his eyes drifting to the floo. “One of us could go check on him.”

“We’d just get him in trouble,” Hermione scoffed. Ron wouldn’t thank them for that.

Just as George opened his mouth to argue, the floo chimed and Ron stumbled out of it. Hermione’s eyes flew over him even as she moved across the room to throw her arms around him. She was relieved to see that he just looked pale and worn out rather than hurt.

“Where have you been? What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Ron asked. He sounded cheerful, but it was in that strained way that Hermione knew meant he was hiding something. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Why are you lying?” she hissed, but softly enough that no one else would hear.

“Everything’s fine. Things just ran over a bit,” Ron said with a wan smile. “We’re still having that meeting later, right?” he asked more quietly. She nodded and he gave her a single nod back before moving off to greet the rest of the family. Apparently, whatever happened wasn’t for his Mum’s ears.

She was grateful when Molly clapped her hands and said, “That’s everyone! Gather at the table, please! It’s dinnertime!”

Everyone began to talk excitedly as there was a race for the table. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, imagining this same chaos through their growing years. They didn’t act like this at home — that was its own kind of chaos when everyone was there — but getting seated at the Burrow was an adventure.

Harry’s eyes caught hers, smiling at each other in amusement as they let the Weasleys fight out who would sit where. When all was said and done, Harry ended up next to Ginny and Ron, while Hermione was near the head of the table in a seat Bill had declared hers.

Leaning around him, she asked Fleur, “What has he got planned for me?”

Fleur laughed, “Do not worry, ‘Ermione. ‘E eez only planning for ‘Ogwarts.”

“Oh! Should I be involved in that? As a student, I mean?” Hermione questioned.

“Yes,” Bill told her as he leaned back to block their conversation. “You may be a student, but we’re discussing Mum’s overseeing Narcissa’s lesson plans and, as a member of the Muggleborn Coalition, I think your insight will be helpful.”

“Oh that… witch. She’s going to teach them all sorts of things—” Molly began.

“Mum,” Bill cautioned. “She won’t teach them anything bad because you’ll be there to ensure she doesn’t. And because it’s a condition of her probation. She may not be the… nicest person, but Mrs Malfoy is intelligent. I doubt she would jeopardize her freedom by teaching them anything inappropriate.”

“Well, perhaps not,” Molly agreed, smiling as she looked contemplative. Hermione thought the person who suggested this job could help Molly re-center herself was a genius.

“Eet might even be zat you find you like working with ‘er,” Fleur suggested. When Molly scrunched up her nose, Fleur continued, changing the direction of the conversation, “I know I’m looking forward to ‘aving you as a colleague.”

Hermione bit her lower lip and looked down at her plate to keep from catching Fleur’s eye. She was almost certain that wasn’t how Fleur felt at all. Looking up, she unfortunately met Bill’s shocked look and nearly dissolved into laughter. Apparently, despite bringing up this conversation, he hadn’t really put together that he would be a professor alongside his mother.

“Yes, so many of my babies will be there,” Molly said, smiling around the table.

That attitude was going to be hard for many of them to swallow. Miraculously, it was Charlie who came to the rescue, leaning in from the middle of the table. “So what are the topics the wizarding culture class will cover?”

Bill gave a sigh of relief and Hermione had to admit she agreed with the sentiment. “That’s what I was hoping to hear about, too,” Bill spoke up. “I know you received Narcissa’s owl this afternoon.”

“Yes, she’s asked me to tea,” Molly informed him. “I suppose I’ll have to take her up on it since she can’t leave Hogwarts to come here.”

“Would you want her here?” Bill asked in surprise.

Molly smiled smugly. “I would love to see that woman taken down a few pegs. Visiting here would be a good start.”

“I think she’s fallen down a bit already,” Hermione said before she could stop herself. It wasn’t that she liked Narcissa precisely, but the woman had saved Harry’s life. And everything she had done had been for her son. She might deserve the pettiness Molly was undoubtedly going to inflict upon her, but Hermione would prefer they were all a bit more mature about things.

“A good continuation, then,” Molly replied, oblivious to the fact that it had been a rebuke.

“It’s excellent to know you see how pathetic this place is,” Aunt Muriel said dryly. “I am well aware you’re abandoning me to go to the school, but you should consider living at Prewett’s Place when you return instead of this ramshackle shack.”

The whole table went silent at the slight to the Burrow. Emberhaven might be home now, but the Burrow certainly held a special place in all their hearts. Hermione tried to think of something diplomatic to say, but it was Molly who responded first.

“Perhaps I will. There’s no reason to hold onto the Burrow now,” she said, ignoring the gasps of her assembled children, “since the children have their own home and Arthur’s not here for the upkeep.”

“You know I’ll help you take care of the house and garden and—” Charlie began, but Molly cut him off.

“I’m aware. But I’m not sure I want to live here without your father.”

No one knew what to say to that.

“You should live where you feel most comfortable, Mum,” Bill said, though Hermione could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t like it.

“I’ll consider my options,” Molly agreed.

Trying to steer the conversation back on track, Hermione said, “Magical houses are something Muggle-raised children should learn about. There are so many things I had no idea existed.”

“I don’t believe that was in the lesson plans at this time. I’ll make a note,” Molly said, looking thrilled. She might not have things color-coded the way Hermione would have, but the similarities in their planning styles were still there. Molly was clearly thrilled to have a project to plan. “That would probably fall to me to teach about,” she mused. “Narcissa and her ilk will be talking about the government, the old ways, and pureblood culture, but I’m going to be focused on the more practical aspects of the wizarding world — household magic, cooking, that sort of thing. Magical houses could be worked in.”

“Who will tackle things like ritual magic and the Family Magics?” Hermione asked, eager to hear more.

“We’ll likely work on rituals together, though they fall under the category of old magic, technically. I don’t know that we’ll teach about Family Magics. They are—”

“Secret no longer,” Aunt Muriel cut in, surprising everyone. “We don’t have to give away our Legacies, but the fact that Family Magic exists should be common knowledge.”

“It will just make the muggleborns feel bad,” Molly protested.

“Eet won’t ‘ave to,” Fleur said, “not eef you teach zem ‘ow to begin zere own Legacies.”

Molly and Aunt Muriel stared at the French witch. “That is preposterous,” Molly argued. “We can’t let just anyone have a Legacy.”

“You can’t really stop them,” Charlie said with a shrug. “All the old family Legacies started out as someone’s experimentation and notes.”

The elder family members looked scandalized, but the twins were now looking down the table, their interest piqued. “Do you think we should add our products to the Weasley Legacies?” George asked. “Or do they belong somewhere else?”

“They don’t belong anywhere but at your shop,” Molly grumbled reflexively. Fred stiffened at her words, but George put a hand on his shoulder.

“Perhaps we should begin the Granger Family Legacies,” Fred said slowly.

“You think our light and love wants her name associated with our foolishness?” George asked.

“Of course. Our foolishness is brilliant,” Fred returned.

“Would that count?” Hermione wondered. “When they’re not Grangers?”

“As Charlie pointed out, the Legacies all began somewhere and have been added to over the years,” Bill began.

“But you all need to remember that there are rituals involved in starting a true Legacy,” Aunt Muriel snapped.

“There are?” Hermione asked, fascinated. She knew the books themselves were intensely magical, but she had assumed it was just wards and protection spells over them, not really the books themselves.

“There are,” Muriel confirmed, though she didn’t expand on the thought. Instead, she looked Hermione up and down before asking, “Do you intend to start a Legacy for House Granger?”

Somehow, she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “There isn’t a House Granger.”

“There could be,” Aunt Muriel returned with a shrug. “All you need is an heir to whom you pass the name and Head of House position. It wouldn’t be a Noble House — not yet, but I suspect you would find a way to make it one.”

“And eef you did, because of the soul bond, George could add to the Granger Legacy. Charlie, too,” Fleur explained.

“How do you know that?” Molly demanded. “And why not Fred?”

“Fred is already Head of House Prewett for the future. Anything he adds to a Legacy will go to the Prewetts,” Aunt Muriel answered. She looked like she was going to go on, but Hermione was too curious to let her continue yet.

“Can they not write the same things in different Legacies?”

Molly and Aunt Muriel both looked stunned. “Well, yes, probably. But it would be very unusual,” Molly allowed.

“We have a bit of an unusual family situation,” Fred said with a smirk.

“Now how did you know that, Fleur?” Bill asked his wife.

She rolled her eyes, though she was smiling. “Een France, eet eez common for wixen to start their own ‘Ouses. ‘Ermione would be matriarche Granger. Most of ze Continent eez like zat.”

“So she can be a Weasley and use our Legacies and the Prewett Legacies and she could still start her own as the House of Granger, too?” Bill asked for clarification.

“Oui, of course.”

“That’s something I’ll have to learn more about,” Hermione said, making a mental note to add it to her ever-growing list of things to tackle. She was suddenly tired again, thinking about all of that.

It seemed someone realized it. As conversation continued around her, Percy caught her eye, a look of concern on his face. He mimed eating and, though she rolled her eyes, Hermione returned her attention to her plate. He was right. If she wanted the energy to finish this meal and then tonight’s family meeting, she needed to eat.

By the time Hermione tuned back into the talk around her, it seemed Bill had somehow wrestled the conversation back to lesson plans. He was having some trouble with his own — nerves mostly — and talking through them was clearly important to him.

“Have you shown them to the Headmistress yet?” Hermione interjected.

“No,” Bill admitted. “I want them to be perfect before I show her so that she doesn’t think she’s made a mistake hiring me.”

“Of course she hasn’t made a mistake! Minerva is well aware you’re perfect for this job,” Molly assured him. As the others had pointed out at times, Bill was always going to be her golden boy. In this case, though, it was true. Bill would excel. Hermione was surprised he was so nervous about it, honestly.

“Oui,” Fleur agreed aloud, taking Bill’s hand on the table and giving it a squeeze. Her eyes were adoring as she said, “You weel be ze best zey ‘ave ‘ad.”

“I’m going to try,” Bill agreed.

The rest of the meal went well as they changed to lighter topics, discussing how everyone’s day had been and what the coming days might bring. Hermione noticed that Ron was suspiciously quiet, not even interested in talking about Quidditch. It was very odd for him and Hermione’s concern deepened. She noticed a couple of the others giving him worried looks as well.

When dinner ended and they all began their goodbyes, Hermione couldn’t help but feel relieved. She wanted to enjoy time spent at the Burrow — she knew it was important for the family to reconnect after all the strife with Molly, but she craved the comfort of home. She smiled to herself with the knowledge that Emberhaven was truly that, her home.

*********

Ginny was exhausted and, frankly, uninterested in attending a family meeting after the evening at the Burrow, but she knew it wasn’t optional. Still, she would be suggesting they move the Family Meeting to a different night in the future.

She tried to pay attention, but honestly the subjects Bill wanted to cover were boring: chores and responsibilities around the house, responsibilities of representing the Noble House of Weasley, and discussions about their collective budget. Ginny supposed they were all important, but they weren’t interesting.

When Percy began to drone on about taking better care of Hermione, Ginny took the time to glare around at her brothers, but it didn’t really apply to her, even if Percy gave her a pointed look and said that it did. She barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

It wasn’t until Ron cleared his throat and began to speak that Ginny sat up from where she had been leaning against Harry.

“Something happened at the Ministry today,” Ron said quietly, drawing everyone’s attention. “The Department of Mysteries was attacked.”

“You shouldn’t be telling us this!” Percy stated, looking scandalized.

“Of course he should!” Harry cried, just as scandalized by the idea that Ron would hide something from them.

Bill shook his head and said, “I think not.”

Ron looked around at them all, sighed, and then nodded back at Bill. “Robards probably wouldn’t like it,” he acknowledged. “But something strange is going on.”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron gave each other significant looks and it made Ginny want to hex them. Those three would obviously be discussing this later. And they were going to go off the rails trying to figure out what was going on. She just knew it. But, this time, they were going to include her, too.

Chapter 59

Notes:

It's been forever and I am SO sorry. I had a crazy summer in real life and also just lost a lot of my desire to write for a while there. I'm hoping the muse is going to stick with me now. I have some exciting things planned for the future of this fic.

Thank you to my amazing team who has kept me going, kept this all making sense, despite setbacks.

A small soapbox on AI accusations: You can pry my em-dash from my cold, dead hands. If you think it means I'm using AI - when I've been writing this way for years - you are by no means obligated to keep reading. I am personally offended by the environmental impacts of AI and therefore do not use it. That said, I think it's here to stay and, frankly, this is fanfic. No one is getting paid. If some people want to use AI to enhance their own writing or bring an idea to life, let them. But for the most part, I don't think people are doing that anyway. If you put a well-written story into an AI detector, it's going to give it a high score of being AI generated - because AI writing is based on good writing. It is beyond rude to go around commenting on people's things accusing them of using AI. It absolutely burns me to see newer authors get those comments and see how much it discourages them to keep writing. So stop it.

Tuesday, August 11th

Charlie hummed happily to himself as he set out to the nearest barn at Emberhaven in the muted pre-dawn light. He wasn’t telling anyone else until they were older, but he had found a nest of Occamies in there one morning.

The creatures seemed quite content with their home despite the fact that it was well outside their normal habitat. Charlie was baffled, but hoped they would stay that way. Back at the Sanctuary, he had enjoyed the companionship of one, and he would like that closeness again. It’s why he had decided to keep them here instead of moving them to Hogwarts, where the students’ magic might disturb them.

Thinking of his growing menagerie at Hogwarts, Charlie fed the Occamies and did a quick once over on all of them before packing up. There wasn’t time to linger this morning. He still had his dragons to check at Gringotts, and then all the creatures at Hogwarts.

The stop at Gringotts took nearly as long as Hogwarts would, simply because of the logistics. He had to wait patiently for a goblin to take him down to the cave where he found Azara sitting on the hoard this morning.

Idly, Charlie wondered how the pair would manage both their hoard and a nest of eggs when the time came. If they had been born in the wild, they would know how to, but some domesticated dragons — and these two were about as domesticated as you could get — struggled.

Of course, he could remove the eggs as soon as they arrived, but that seemed unnecessarily cruel. It was something to ponder, though, since they wouldn’t be able to keep the dragonets with them forever in what would quickly become a cramped space with more dragons.

Then again, the goblins might think they have a say in what happened to any dragonets that hatched within Gringotts, so that was another point to consider. It might be safest to whisk the eggs away after all.

After spending as much time with them as he could manage, Charlie went through the process of leaving the bank — enjoying the ride on the carts as he did. The sensation made him realize they hadn’t played a good game of Quidditch since they moved into Emberhaven ,and that was a travesty.

Rather than walk all the way to the Leaky, Charlie went to the flat above Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. He would have enjoyed stopping in to say hello, but it was still at least two hours before the shop would open. He couldn’t be bothered to cast a Tempus and find out the time for sure.

From the flat, he floo’d directly into his Care of Magical Creatures office — Hagrid’s old hut. Charlie was pleased that he had finally got it connected and could use it for easy transportation. He began the long task of feeding all the different creatures he was preparing for the coming year. It wasn’t technically necessary to have a creature for every lesson — and certainly his menagerie wasn’t that large, plus he wasn’t bringing anything too dangerous — but Charlie wanted to give the children as much hands-on experience as he could manage.

He hoped handling the actual creatures themselves would awaken the feelings of awe and wonder that he himself experienced with new creatures. There were plenty of jobs in creature conservation, ones that were always in need of extra hands. And if he could influence a few students to look toward the dragon sanctuaries for work when they were older, well, the sanctuaries always needed new handlers. Mikal would certainly thank him.

Charlie tried to ignore the pang of homesickness when he thought of the Sanctuary and his fellow handlers there. He loved Emberhaven, and loved Hermione even more. He was building a life here that he could be content with, but it definitely wasn’t the same as the free-ranging feel of the Sanctuary. He needed to plan a visit, maybe take the whole family this time — though he wasn’t sure the Sanctuary had guest cabins large enough to welcome them all at once.

Of course, he still had his own personal cabin for himself and Hermione, maybe the twins as well. That would help.

A crup nipped at his hand, reminding Charlie that the creatures weren’t interested in his woolgathering nearly so much as the food he was supposed to be distributing. He laughed and tossed a bit of meat out, watching as they all playfully fought over it.

No, this wasn’t the life he had thought he would lead after the war, but he was getting used to it.

*****

Groaning, Harry wiped the sweat from his brow, being careful to make sure none of it dripped into the potion. Even here at Emberhaven, the potions lab was hotter than he liked once brewing began. That several of the twins’ potions were bubbling away, too, meant that it was steaming in the room.

But he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t even use a personal cooling charm for fear it would interfere with what he was brewing. This potion, if it were going to work at all, was far too volatile to walk away from or experiment with magic around it. Harry knew he was no potions prodigy. He really shouldn’t have been experimenting with potions from old books, but he had seen Ginny mark this page in the old pregnancy tome her mum had given her.

She wouldn’t be able to brew it herself, so he would do it for her. Or try to. Harry wasn’t really sure what he would do for her birthday if this didn’t work, so it absolutely had to.

The instructions sounded like the potion’s effect was something similar to a muggle epidural. It caused the appropriate region to be numbed from pain for a time. His biggest concern was that the handwriting wasn’t exactly legible, so he wasn’t quite certain of some of the ingredients.

With tomorrow being Ginny’s birthday, there wasn’t much time for errors. As Harry double checked his work, there was a soft knock at the door.

To his surprise, it was Fleur. It wasn’t that they had a poor relationship, just that Harry had little reason to interact directly with her. He couldn’t think of a single other time she had sought him out since the end of the Triwizard tournament years ago.

“May I come een?” she asked, her eyes flicking curiously over the potions in the room. Still, when Harry invited her in, she didn’t give them another look, moving gracefully between the stations. “We must talk.”

“Er…sure,” Harry agreed, feeling oddly unsettled — almost turned on — with the part-Veela so close.

“Eet’s about ‘Ermione,” Fleur said, taking a small step back from him as she spoke.

Harry breathed a little easier, noticing as he did that she held a sheet of parchment in her hand. “What’s this?” he asked.

“Eet eez ze letter we ‘ave been waiting for.” Harry stared at her blankly and Fleur huffed. “From ze Australian Ministry. Zey found ‘er parents.”

“They did?” he exclaimed, a grin slipping onto his face.

“Oui, but… eet eez different zan we might ‘ave expected,” Fleur said.

Harry reached for the letter. “What is different?”

“Just read eet,” Fleur told him, looking worried. And that worried Harry. Looking down, he quickly skimmed to the body of the letter.

We are pleased to inform you that the Grangers, who know themselves as the Wilkinses, have been located. They are living happily down in the Adelaide region, where they have established a successful dentistry practice. They appear to enjoy both the beaches and the vineyards around Adelaide, though Mrs Wilkins only goes for the beautiful scenery as she is expecting, with a due date fast approaching.

Our preliminary assessment has brought up some unusual findings. Though they do not remember their lives as the Grangers, they do seem aware — and quite wary of — magic. A covert diagnostic scan shows that the unborn girl has a strong magical signature. While discussing some of the abnormalities of the pregnancy, they indicated that they knew they had been through this before, though moments later they did not seem aware they had previously had a child.

With their daughter’s permission, we could bring the muggles in for further testing and questioning as per our laws, but we suspect that a visit with them might be enough to jar their memories.

Please tell Mrs Hermione Weasley to reach out with any questions or instructions. We are happy to be of service to Britain’s war heroine in this complex situation.

Harry blinked as he came to the end of the letter. That was certainly not what he had expected from initial contact with Hermione’s parents. They were expecting another child? He wondered how Hermione would feel about that.

“What do you think we should do?” he asked Fleur.

She looked pensive, biting her lip in a way Harry couldn’t help but find seductive, but she spoke before he could follow that thought too far. “I zink eet eez time to tell ‘Ermione.”

“Even though things are more complicated?”

“Oui,” Fleur agreed. She still looked worried, but far more decisive. “Only she can decide what to do next — eef she wants to visit or let ze Australian Ministry interfere.”

Harry snorted. Fat chance of that in his opinion. Well, the Ministry option. She would want to visit. He was almost sure of it. “I don’t think she’ll trust the Ministry,” he told Fleur.

“Non, probably not,” she agreed. “But eet eez ‘er choice.”

“Of course,” he said. Harry started to ask her when she thought would be best when he heard a sizzling sound behind him. He had stepped away from the potion without even realizing. “Oh Merlin,” he groaned as he spun around and began stirring it. He had left it alone a moment too long. Hopefully he hadn’t ruined the whole batch.

“What’s that smell?” a familiar voice asked from the doorway. Harry looked up through the fringe of his wild hair to catch George staring at him, his expression somewhere between mischievous and worried. Fred followed almost immediately thereafter, grinning from ear to ear. His look was all mischief.

Before they noticed it, Fleur vanished the letter away. But her very presence was enough to raise Fred’s brows. “And what, my fair lady, are you doing with this miscreant?”

“She’s helping me test this potion I’m brewing,” Harry said, just as the potion made an odd belching sound.

George’s look turned more thoroughly to worry. “I don’t think Fleur should be testing that.”

“I zink I can make my own choices when eet comes to—”

“In case there’s a baby,” George interrupted. Everyone was silent, staring at George’s audacity. “I just mean… I know you’ve been trying. We all know. And I want that baby to be healthy and whole if it exists, you know?” He gulped at the look Fleur was giving him.

Then she surprised them all by throwing herself at him, hugging George so tightly that he squeaked. Harry couldn’t help it, he laughed, drawing Fred’s attention back to him.

“Well, you’ve lost your test subject,” he commented.

“Are you volunteering?” Harry asked hopefully. He had intended to try it himself, but he wouldn’t say no to someone else.

Fred shook his head. “Rule number one of brewing experimental potions. You try it on yourself the first few times so that no one pays for your mistakes but you.”

Harry looked at the ominously bubbling potion in his cauldron and bit his lip. It looked just the way the book had described it would be when finished, but… how much did he trust his brewing? And this old witch’s journal the potion was from? Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Fred asked, “What is it supposed to do?”

“It’s for Ginny, for her birthday. According to this recipe, it acts a bit like a muggle epidural.”

“Epi-what?” Fred asked, making Harry sigh.

“It’s a muggle medical thing. They give them to women when they’re having babies so they go numb down… well… in that area.”

Fred rolled his eyes. “You can get my baby sister up the duff but you can’t call ‘that area’ by its name?”

“No,” Harry said, blushing furiously.

“So if you take this potion, are you going to be able to stand?”

“I… don’t know,” Harry admitted. He wasn’t entirely sure how that worked in the muggle world. He had only heard of epidurals, not had cause to know anything much about them.

“Best be sitting down just in case, eh?” George suggested, grabbing Harry’s hand and leading him to one of the twins’ “thinking chairs” they had insisted on having in the potion’s lab, much to Hermione’s dismay.

“I’ll bring you a vial as soon as it’s cooled off,” Fred offered cheerfully, portioning the potion out into the vials Harry had prepared.

Unsure how his experiment had become theirs to command, Harry still couldn’t manage to be irritated about it — not when George hadn’t let go of his hand and Harry’s pulse was hammering in response. He had to remind himself forcefully that Sandy had said it was okay to be attracted to people aside from Ginny. Of course, this morning that had included her sister-in-law and now her brother. Was that supposed to be okay, too?

“Ah, here it comes,” George said, wearing that same worried expression he had when he entered the room. His hand finally dropped away from Harry’s and Harry instantly missed it. But who knows what this potion was going to do and it was best that George not be touching him when he took it.

“So without ‘that area’ being the same, how are you going to know if this works?” Fred teased.

Harry glared at him. “I think it’s more the whole er… region. So I imagine I’ll go numb from my waist down?”

Fleur looked amused, but didn’t say anything as Fred handed Harry the vial and he decided to just down it before he had time to think about it.

At first, nothing changed. Then he felt a tingling throughout his entire body. Harry instantly worried that he was going to go completely numb. It took only a moment for it to be clear that wouldn’t be the problem.

*********

“The chair,” Harry gasped. Fred wasn’t certain what he meant until George worriedly asked what was wrong with it. “It’s so… hard,” Harry whined. He started to shift, but that only made him groan.

The twins exchanged a look. Those were some of the softest chairs in the house. Fred had tried them all to be sure. George was still staring at him with a look that was nearly panic, so Fred shrugged. “Harry, what do you mean?”

“Everything feels… like too much.” He stood abruptly, moaning as he moved his feet. “The floor feels too hard, too, or maybe it’s these shoes.” Fred watched in shock as Harry began toeing them off.

George snapped him out of just watching when Harry pulled off his jumper and began to push his trousers down. “Harry!” George gasped, his voice sounding strangled. “You can’t just take your clothes off here.”

“He could,” Fred said, giving his twin a shit-eating grin. George did not look amused.

“Are you feeling like even the clothes you’re wearing are too much?” George asked gently.

“Yes. Everything. I… I don’t know—”

“The potion apparently had the opposite effect of what you were going for,” Fred observed. To his twin, he said, “That’s all this is, Georgie. It’ll wear off.”

George nodded slowly, but his worried eyes didn’t leave Harry. As Fred watched, he realized something he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge before: George might have real feelings for Harry. That would be a bit complicated considering Ginny’s likelihood to fly off the handle.

“I can’t,” Harry was saying, “I need something soft to sit on.” His eyes met George’s and he added a whimpering “Please.”

George moved before Fred could stop him, sitting down in the plush chair and drawing Harry down onto his lap. Somehow that wasn’t too much for Harry at all. No, judging by the way he practically purred, he liked sitting in George’s lap quite a lot.

Fred looked over at Fleur, wondering what she thought of this as George ran a hand down Harry’s arm and made him moan and writhe. Her eyes were wide, but there was a bit of a smirk on her lips. She was clearly amused by Harry’s situation — and now George’s.

Because his twin was clearly having a hard time not reacting to Harry’s squirming. George’s cheeks were bright Weasley red. When his hands clamped gently on Harry’s arms to hold him still, Harry did a full body shudder and whispered, “Do that again.”

Fleur couldn’t contain her snicker this time, nor could Fred himself. “Per’aps you ‘ave found a starting product for a new line.”

Fred felt his brows raise. Was she suggesting what he thought? “A line of adult products? Sexy things?” He waggled his eyebrows at her and Fleur rolled her eyes.

“Oui. Zo maybe ‘ave someone else advertise zem.”

“Hey!” Fred protested, then looked back at George and Harry with a salesman’s eye. George had given up protesting and was running his hands lightly over Harry’s arms, both of them seeming fascinated by Harry’s responses. Fred had a good idea what kind of response they were prompting from his twin. Even without their bond, he would have known how turned on George was. Not that he was going to comment on it — not in front of Harry, at least.

Instead, Fred said, “You might have a point about the product line. I bet we could come up with some other things of interest along with those. Our patented daydream charms could certainly be tweaked for this purpose.”

“They had another?” Fleur asked, grinning.

Fred blinked. “I don’t want to know,” he muttered, thinking of all the charms they had sold her over the years.

She laughed, the tone of it something almost solid. Indeed, Harry gasped at the sound and George groaned in response. Fleur clapped a hand over her mouth and turned for the door. “Sorry,” she said as she rushed from the room, blushing furiously. Fred made a note to tease her about it later. For now, he had Harry and George to mess with.

“Well, that was an interesting reaction from you two,” he commented as he moved closer. “Harry, I’m going to need to know exactly what you did or didn’t do on this recipe so we can duplicate the effect.”

“You can’t be serious,” George said through gritted teeth.

“I’m not. He was a great man, though. And he would certainly see this for the opportunity it is, as well.”

“If you help me,” Harry said.

“Help you do what? I feel like my twin is more the man you want for help now.”

George and Harry both turned redder than they already were. “The potion,” Harry managed. “For Ginny. You have to help me make it the right way.”

“At your service, as long as we’re exchanging,” Fred said with a wink and a bow.

***********

Ginny was thrilled. Waiting patiently wasn’t her strong suit even when she wasn’t so moody, but it had been worth the wait to have everyone home and celebrating together. That it was for her birthday was just a bonus.

Granted, with everyone but Ron living here full time, it wasn’t unusual for the whole clan to be home. But it was rare for everyone to gather at once — and even more strange for Mum to be with them. Even Aunt Muriel had come, ready to greet her formally now that she was of age and officially a woman. The thought that she had more than proved that by getting pregnant made Ginny feel a little grumbly, but she pushed it aside.

Mum had insisted on making dinner, so the table was groaning with all Ginny’s favorite dishes. She loved Emberhaven and living with Hermione and her siblings, but it was nice to have reminders of home now and then. She joined the fray as soon as Mum gave the signal that everyone could dig in, happy that no one was showing her favoritism in this moment of chaos.

As they all tucked in, conversation came to a brief halt before exploding again once everyone had taken a few bites and complimented their mother, who preened under the praise. “It was nothing more than I’ve always done,” Mum said, blushing happily.

“Which is over the top, of course,” Aunt Muriel said, but instead of her usual harsh tone, she said this fondly, almost teasingly.

To Ginny’s surprise, Mum took it with grace, even looking a little sheepish. Just in case the comment hurt Mum’s feelings, Ginny spoke up. “Well we love it. I’ll get to enjoy plenty of leftovers.”

“And you’re eating for two, so you need plenty,” Mum reminded. As if Ginny could forget. She was 17 weeks along now, and showing. Her clothes had become tight recently, and she hoped that some of her gifts today would be new things that fit better. Though she had always hoped for Quidditch gear on her 17th birthday, it was clearly not a practical gift at the moment.

She only felt a little pouty about that. Thankfully some of the worst mood swings had dropped off with the morning sickness as she approached the second trimester. It wouldn’t be long now before she would feel the baby move. She couldn’t wait.

And she couldn’t wait to share those movements with Harry. He seemed… distracted this evening, and he wouldn’t look at George, who seemed to be blushing rather a lot. Had something happened there? She would share Hermione, but Harry was hers.

She gave George a questioning look and he immediately looked down at his food, pushing it around the plate in a way that she knew meant he felt guilty. Something had definitely happened, though Ginny didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Harry wouldn’t do that to her anyway. And certainly not with her brother. It was probably something about a gift. Maybe they were pranking her. She narrowed her eyes at both him and Fred.

Fred only grinned and winked at her. That was no help in determining what they were up to. She could just ask. Sometimes that worked, but she wasn’t convinced it would today. Knowing Fred, he would tell her she was going to find out soon enough.

And that was true. Dinner was soon over and Mum Accioed the cake from the kitchen, setting it down right in front of Ginny so she could make her wish before blowing out the candles. She knew just what to wish for. As the others sang to her, she wished with all her might that the Golden Trio wouldn’t shut her out when she asked what was going on with the Department of Mysteries.

She planned to corner them before the end of the night and ask, but for now, it was present time. The others were amused when she raced over to the pile before some of them finished their cake. “Can I open?” she exclaimed. Ginny knew she was being childish, but she didn’t care.

Charlie smiled indulgently at her, speaking up first with, “Of course you can. Open mine first. It’s the brown paper package.”

Ginny wasted no time following his instructions. Charlie had always come up with the best gifts. He was her favorite brother for many reasons. As she tore away the paper, Ginny gasped. It was a pair of dark green dragonhide Quidditch gloves with golden details. He hadn’t just realized she would want Quidditch gear. They were in the Holyhead Harpies’ colors, her dream team.

“I know they’re not much,” Charlie began, but followed those words with an ‘oof’ as Ginny threw herself at her brother to hug him.

“They’re perfect!”

“Quidditch gloves?” Mum asked. Her face said she didn’t approve, but she held her tongue as she glanced between Charlie and Ginny. Apparently she could tell it wouldn’t go over well and she really was trying to be less overbearing. “I know you love Quidditch,” she finally finished with a small smile.

“I do,” Ginny confirmed before setting them gently aside and turning to the next gift. This one was from Percy. She fully expected something like a planner and she wasn’t wrong — but this one had specifically to do with pregnancy. And… to her shock, as she opened to look at it, all the Holyhead Harpies games were written in Percy’s neat script, and two tickets fell out as she flipped through the pages. Ginny was flabbergasted.

“Tickets to a game?” she squealed. Percy might be competitive for that favorite brother status after all.

“And a planner I hope you’ll actually use,” Percy said dryly, but he was smiling.

“Of course,” Ginny agreed, beaming at him. Glancing down at the tickets, she realized they were in the Minister’s box. That solved the question of how he had come across them, but she was still touched that Percy had thought of her.

“The tickets are as much from Kingsley as myself,” he confirmed. “He apologizes that he couldn’t be here for the party. Things have been… hectic at the Ministry.”

“Aren’t they always?” Ginny asked, though she watched as Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a look.

It was from Bill and Fleur that she began getting the maternity clothes she needed. They weren’t as exciting of a gift, but they were much needed and Ginny was truly thankful. Besides, Fleur had the best fashion sense, so she was certain they would look fantastic on her, too.

The twins had given her two boxes of Skiving Snackboxes marked “Pregnancy Safe” and a package of dungbombs. “There’ll be fireworks later, too,” Fred told her. “We haven’t had a display since we got here and our baby sister’s coming-of-age sounds like the perfect occasion.”

Ginny liked that idea very much, but she still narrowed her eyes at them. “What are the fireworks going to look like?”

“You’ll see,” Fred said, grinning again. That was dangerous.

Mum and Aunt Muriel had given her more clothes — less stylish, but perhaps more practical for the comfy days around the house. Well, Mum’s were. Aunt Muriel’s were stuffy old formal robes. They could be altered to be useful, but they were definitely not of the current styles. Still, they were probably considered family heirlooms. Ginny thanked them both.

Now came Ron’s gift. Predictably, it was another year’s subscription to Quidditch Weekly, which she appreciated.

Ginny had saved Harry and Hermione for last and she couldn’t decide which one of them to go for now. Harry seemed quite nervous, so maybe she should put him out of his misery. The little box it was in made Ginny’s heart pound. Was this an engagement ring? She had thought at times that she might want that, but she absolutely wasn’t ready.

Summoning her Gryffindor courage, Ginny tore open the paper and was relieved to see it wasn’t a jeweler’s box. Instead, she found a vial of potion when she opened it, with a note about dosage.

“What is this?” she asked him.

Harry’s jaw dropped as Hermione began to laugh beside him. “You forgot to write down what it does?”

“I guess so,” he admitted sheepishly. “It’s for when the baby is born. It’s like a muggle epidural.”

The Weasleys stared blankly at him and Harry was visibly relieved when Hermione jumped in and explained.

“So this will make me numb to the pain when the baby is born?” Ginny asked in awe.

“That’s quite innovative,” Mum said, clearly worrying a bit.

“Actually, it came from one of the old witch’s books you gave Ginny. I just had Fred’s help to get it right. Can’t feel my bum right now after testing it, but I believe that means it’s working.”

Ginny flung her arms around him, nearly pulling Harry from the chair.

Last, came the gift from Hermione. She was looking a bit nervous now, too, but Ginny was confident she would like whatever it was. Hermione always gave thoughtful gifts, even if they tended to be books.

Sure enough, there were two books — both on Quidditch strategies, though one of them seemed to be more of a history book while the other was a modern analysis playbook. Ginny instantly knew she would be reading these over and over. But the thing that really made her excited was the note that slipped out from between the pages of the modern one. Hermione had promised her the night — just the two of them. No Charlie. No twins. No Harry. Just Hermione and Ginny.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked up at Hermione, who was biting her lip nervously. “I know it’s not much,” the older girl began, but Ginny cut her off.

“It’s everything.” Seeing that Hermione still wasn’t sure, Ginny stood and hugged her. “I can’t wait for tonight,” she whispered in her wife’s ear.

Hermione blushed, but nodded enthusiastically as well. Perhaps she missed time with Ginny as much as Ginny missed her? She could hope, at least.

With the gifts finished, everyone moved into the sitting room with their drinks, the celebration graduating to a happy, casual atmosphere. Even Mum and Aunt Muriel joined them since the house elves wouldn’t hear of anyone else cleaning up their kitchen.

As Harry, Ron, and Hermione settled together, heads bent close, Ginny knew this was the best possible opportunity to get what she so desperately wanted from the three of them. As she stepped into their space, hoping her movement looked natural, she caught the word “Veil” and knew her instincts had been right.

“I want in,” she said, surprising all three of them.

“You didn’t put up a privacy ward?” Ron asked Hermione incredulously.

“Why is that assumed to be my job?” Hermione retorted. “You’re the one revealing sensitive information.”

Before they could get into any real bickering, Ginny raised a privacy ward of her own, then turned back to find them staring at her slack-jawed.

“I do know how to use magic, too, you know,” she scolded them. “And I would have known what you were talking about with or without a privacy ward. It’s been obvious for days that the three of you are up to something, and I know you well enough to know it’s about the Department of Mysteries and what’s going on there. I want in.”

“You’re too young,” Ron protested.

“I’m of age,” Ginny stated, holding her ground without letting her temper slip out, though it was hard. She was grateful when Harry slipped a hand into hers and began making soothing circles on the back of her hand.

“She is that, Ron,” Harry said. “And a new perspective might really help this.”

Hermione looked hesitant, but finally nodded. “I think it would be okay, too.”

“Well I don’t, and it’s my information to give,” Ron said stubbornly.

“Actually, you know very well that it was your information to keep from us, and you’ve already violated your oaths by sharing it with us,” Hermione pointed out.

Ron glared at her and Ginny was sure they were going to go back to bickering when Harry just launched right into the explanation.

“Dead bodies keep coming out of the Veil. The Aurors have been working with the Unspeakables, but nobody’s been able to figure it out. The first one that came out had been an Unspeakable who walked through the Veil to see what would happen. He was quite dead. The second — this latest one — was Colin Creevey. How he got there from his grave at Hogwarts I have no idea. And we don’t know the purpose behind the Death Eaters breaking in just to bring back dead bodies.”

Ron was glaring at him, but Hermione’s mouth had fallen into a surprised O. Did she see what Ginny did? “It seems pretty obvious to me,” Ginny said, “that they’re trying to see if anyone can be brought back through the Veil alive.”

“Yes!” Hermione exclaimed, looking excited now. “And they wouldn’t want to experiment on anyone they care about at first, not when they could make them somehow ineligible to be retrieved from the dead this way. So they’re experimenting.”

Harry had gone white as a sheet. “You don’t think they’re trying to bring Voldemort back again, do you?”

They all shuddered at the name on his lips, but Hermione almost immediately began to shake her head no. “His soul was in pieces. There would be nothing left to bring back once we thoroughly destroyed all the Horcruxes.”

“But did his followers know about all that? Specifically the Death Eaters who are on the loose now?” Ron mused, clearly connecting things together and strategizing from what little they knew.

“Perhaps not,” Hermione admitted, biting her lip.

“So they might try to bring Voldemort back, but it probably wouldn’t work. Who else would they be trying for?” Harry asked.

“Could be any of them,” Ron worried. “The Death Eaters lost a lot of people, especially from the Inner Circle.”

“Bellatrix,” Hermione whispered. Ginny could see by the way she trembled, that Hermione didn’t want to be right, but she could see on Harry and Ron’s faces that they thought she might be.

“Or one of the other higher ranking Death Eaters,” Ginny interjected. “We don’t know.”

“No, but you have to admit it would make sense. When Lucius Malfoy fell from grace, it was Bellatrix who rose to be Voldemort’s right hand. If she had been sane, she would have been almost more formidable than Snakeface himself,” Ron mused. “I doubt dying and being brought back would improve her sanity, though.”

“Hey,” Harry protested. “I came back fine.”

“You weren’t batshit crazy to begin with,” Ginny pointed out. She was secretly delighting in the fact that they hadn’t pushed her out, even as she tried to remain focused on the horror at hand. The fact that someone wanted to raise Bellatrix Lestrange from the dead. “My question is how they’re doing it.”

“It would likely be something the Department of Mysteries has already been studying for some time. Maybe there is still a Death Eater there who wasn’t weeded out?” Hermione suggested.

Ron puffed out his chest a bit. “The Aurors have purged everyone—”

“As many as could be identified as supporters,” Harry broken in gently. “I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the Unspeakables managed to slip past inspections. There are a lot of them and you can’t tell them apart when their hoods are up.”

“That still doesn’t mean we missed someone,” Ron said.

“Of course it doesn’t,” Ginny agreed, soothing her brother’s ruffled feathers. “It’s just one of many possibilities.”

“None of which need to be solved right here and now,” Hermione said, her eyes glancing around the room. “Bill has noticed the privacy ward, and I think he’ll join us any minute if we don’t take it down and switch topics.”

They did, making excuses when Bill made his way over. He clearly didn’t believe them, but he let it go, “because it’s Ginny’s birthday.” She suspected it was more because he had enjoyed a few too many firewhiskys at this point.

The night went on, with everyone wanting to spend time with her and talk to her about her, and not just the baby, thank Merlin. She was excited about the baby, of course, but she was tired to death of being ignored in comparison to the sprog.

When it was sufficiently dark out, the twins dragged them all out to the lawn, Emberhaven turning off all the lights behind them so they could focus on the night sky above. The stars were beautiful tonight, wrapped in light clouds floating across the moon. And soon those sights were joined by massive firework productions… of dicks. All shapes, sizes, and colors in the night sky.

Mum pulled a wooden spoon from somewhere and began to chase Fred and George around the garden, but Ginny couldn’t help but laugh at their antics spread across the sky. How perfectly they knew her and her sense of humor.

Before long, however, she felt arms come around her from behind. To Ginny’s surprise, it was Hermione. “Are you ready for our night together?” she asked quietly.

“Absolutely,” Ginny whispered back.

**********

Hermione was pleased that Ginny had been so thrilled with her gifts. It made her feel like a very bad wife that spending time together counted as a gift in this way, but there just wasn’t time for everyone, even after Percy’s latest insistence that they all be more mindful of her.

She knew she often neglected Ginny. For one thing, Hermione felt that Harry and Ginny needed time together to rebuild their connections. But also… she had to admit that she found Ginny’s constant mood swings exhausting. It was difficult to remind herself that Ginny was only acting this way because of the pregnancy and that the emotional upheaval would pass.

Well, knowing Ginny, she would still rage and dig her heels in at times, but her overall behavior would improve. That’s what the books said anyway. And Hermione always trusted her books… well, most of the time.

These thoughts rushed through her head as Hermione led Ginny toward the main bedroom, the one big enough for all of them. It was technically her room, but Hermione had still felt odd banishing the twins and Charlie to their own for the evening.

Glancing over her shoulder at Ginny’s giddy expression told her it had been the right thing to do. The moment the door was closed, Ginny ran for the bed, launching herself right into the middle of it. Hermione couldn’t contain the laugh that slipped out, especially when she saw the way Ginny was grinning.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Ginny said, “from the first day this bed was here.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already,” Hermione admitted.

“And be teased by my brothers? I’ve never been in here with just the two of us before. You can tease me about it, but I want that to belong just to us.”

Smiling, Hermione nodded. “Of course,” she agreed, then ran toward the other girl, bouncing onto the bed herself.

Ginny giggled, but attacked Hermione before she could sit up on the bed, rolling the two of them until she was on top. “You’re all mine tonight,” the younger girl crowed.

“Are you going to have your way with me?” Hermione asked.

“You better believe it,” Ginny said before lowering her mouth to Hermione’s and kissing her breathless.

“Wait,” Hermione said, laughing weakly.

“I’ve waited long enough,” Ginny declared, kissing her again.

When they came up for air, Hermione protested, “But I have a romantic evening all planned!”

“You do?” Ginny asked, blinking down at her.

“I do,” Hermione confirmed. She just hoped Ginny liked it. “If you get off me,” she began playfully, “we can go to the tub and you’ll see.”

“Oooo… a romantic bathing experience,” Ginny squealed, but then a sexy smirk stole across her face. “Of course, it will be waiting for us when we get to it.”

“But—” Hermione dissolved into laughter as Ginny tickled her into submission.

“We’ll get to the romance,” Ginny assured her. “I just want to have my wicked way first.”

Giving a playful sigh, Hermione admitted defeat. “It’s your birthday so we’ll do it your way.”

“Good. Because that’s what was going to happen anyway,” Ginny declared confidently before reaching for Hermione and kissing her again. It was clear that Ginny couldn’t get enough of it. “Girls are so much softer,” she breathed and Hermione had to agree.

“Yes,” she whimpered, partially in response to Ginny’s observation, but even more as a reaction to Ginny’s wandering hands, which were pushing up the edge of her jumper.

Ginny grinned at her as she made quick work of getting rid of both their jumpers and bras. When she relaxed back next to Hermione, it was with their breasts brushing as they kissed. The sensation was delightful, Hermione found, losing herself to Ginny’s firm touch.

When the younger girl dipped her head down, covering Hermione’s neck with kisses as she moved toward her breasts, Hermione stopped her. “I’m supposed to be giving you pleasure tonight.”

“You are,” Ginny assured her. “I love making you squirm. You’re always so put together.”

“So your pleasure is watching me squirm?”

“My pleasure is making you fall apart as many times as I can,” Ginny said, her grin just a touch evil. Hermione responded strongly to that statement, a shudder of delight running through her. Ginny’s eyes darkened as she watched her.

Wasting no time, Ginny leaned down and began to suck at one of Hermione’s breasts, her hand kneading the other. When she rolled Hermione’s left nipple with her fingers while swirling her tongue around the right, Hermione nearly came up off the bed. She would have if she hadn’t been pinned down by Ginny’s body.

She knew Ginny had been fatigued lately, so she couldn’t imagine where she was getting the energy for this, but Hermione wasn’t complaining. Especially when Ginny began pushing her skirt and knickers down as well, her hands splaying across Hermione’s belly and working lower.

“I should be doing this to you,” Hermione said.

“Should I gag you or will you let me do what I want without arguing?” Ginny asked. The commanding tone in her voice went straight to Hermione’s center.

“Yes,” Hermione gasped as Ginny’s fingers brushed across her clit.

“That wasn’t a yes or no question,” Ginny taunted. “Think it through.”

But she made it nearly impossible to think anything through. Hermione couldn’t concentrate with Ginny’s fingers lingering there. When Ginny pressed a little harder on her clit, Hermione gasped, “Do what you want! Anything!”

“Anything?” Ginny questioned. There was a gleam in her eye.

“I’m yours,” Hermione said in confirmation.

“Now what should I do with this opportunity?” Ginny mused even as she sank two fingers inside Hermione, who moaned at the welcome intrusion.

“Oh, I know,” Ginny continued, staring deeply into Hermione’s eyes. “I think I’ll tie you down and keep going until you’re begging me to stop.”

“You can do whatever you want with me,” Hermione submitted to her. That hadn’t been her plan, but her body wasn’t interested in what her brain had come up with. She ached to submit to Ginny.

And Ginny clearly liked that plan as Hermione watched her conjure silky ropes and begin tying Hermione’s hands over her head. As she worked, she kept up a running commentary of everything she was going to do to Hermione.

Her voice was as steady as her hands as she worked. “First, I’m going to tease you, run my hands all over your body with my mouth following — but never enough, not in the places you want it. Then, when you are ready to scream in frustration, I’ll slip my fingers inside you again while I trace my name on your clit with my tongue. You’ll be calling out for me like a prayer, and I will give you exactly what you want when you’re desperate enough, then again and again until you’ve had so much that you can’t handle it anymore. If I’m feeling merciful, we might head over to your lovely romantic bathtub setup. Or I might keep going. Either way, you belong to me tonight and I will be making all the decisions about what we do.”

“Yes,” Hermione kept moaning as Ginny spoke.

When she finished tying Hermione’s ankles to the bedposts, Ginny added, “Call me Mistress when you speak to me.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Hermione agreed readily.

With that, Ginny began to make good on all her filthy promises, taking Hermione to the point of begging and screaming Ginny’s name long before Ginny gave in and brought her to her first orgasm of the night.

It was followed by many more, each one making Hermione feel as though she were being brought higher and higher. Her sensitivity was in overdrive and by the time Ginny finally unbound her, Hermione had to be helped to the tub where they snuggled in together as she came down. Ginny held her and whispered praise in her ear.

They were kissing again by the time Hermione felt fully herself again. “Ginny, I haven’t done anything for you all night,” she worried.

“Believe me, you’ve done plenty. Do you need to feel how slick I am for you?”

“I don’t need to — I believe you — but I want to.”

“Then go ahead,” Ginny invited.

Hermione’s fingers sought Ginny’s body and, sure enough, even in the water, she could feel Ginny’s personal juices. The other girl groaned at Hermione’s touch, but quickly caught her hand before Hermione could do more.

“I’m still in charge,” Ginny said, “but I’m ready for you to enjoy me, too. How long can you stay up? Do you have plans tomorrow?”

“The Wizengamot session, so I’ll need to be up early, but nothing important is supposed to happen, so it won’t hurt anything if I’m a bit… tired and distracted.”

“Good,” Ginny declared, leaning forward to kiss her again, the water splashing softly around them.

Notes:

I'm really tired of fighting Ginny to make her likable. That's just not where this Ginny wants to go at this point in the story. Soooo... watch for her character to go through a new arc.

I would LOVE to hear your thoughts and predictions about what's going to happen with the mystery about what's going on with the Veil.

Chapter 60

Notes:

Slightly less than a month since my last update - I hope to maintain this, though I won't make promises. Real life has been beating me up lately, but I've turned to this story to brighten my day when I can manage the time, so it's moving along better than it has in a while. I don't think it matters too much on this particular chapter, but please note the date on each chapter as we are now skipping days here and there (so as to move the story forward, have some babies, see how things are in the years ahead.

To my team: You're amazing and I absolutely could not do this without you.

To anyone who has written me a comment lately: Thank you. I cherish them, truly, and I answer every one in my head as soon as I get it. Alas... in reality, I haven't responded in far too long, but I hope to fix that soon. Please keep commenting! I love reading your thoughts!

Saturday, August 15th

Bill woke to the sound of their bedroom door opening, the scent of his favorite breakfast foods wafting into the room as Fleur nearly danced across the floor to him.

“What’s all this?” he asked as he blinked sleepily and began stretching.

By the time his eyes were fully open and he had managed to sit up, Fleur was situating the breakfast tray over his lap. She practically glowed when she smiled at him and he could tell at a glance that her Veela was close to the surface.

“We must both eat,” she said, “but more of eet eez for me.”

“More of my favorite foods?” he asked playfully.

“Oui. More of everyzing… now zat I am eating for two.”

Choking slightly on the piece of toast he had just taken a bite of, Bill hurried to swallow and wash it down so that he could speak. His expression must have been amusing as the tinkling sound of her laugh made a shiver go down his back.

“You’re…you’re really—”

“Oui,” Fleur assured him, smiling happily at him. “We are ‘aving ze baby we both ‘ave wanted!”

Bill whooped in delight, nearly upsetting the tray in front of him, sending Fleur laughing again as she magically removed it and crawled into his lap.

“On second thought, we could ‘ave each uzzer first,” she murmured between showering Bill with kisses that he enthusiastically returned.

Until his brain caught up with his body. “Wait! Is it safe?” he asked.

“Of course, mon amour! I would not risk our leetle one.”

Bill smiled at her, knowing the overwhelming adoration he felt for her was seeping through as she smiled back. Apparently the werewolves’ trick of using the full moon to their advantage had worked. He would need to thank Thaddeus. And Charlie, he supposed. Couldn’t forget the messenger.

His mind raced with so much excitement, Bill honestly wasn’t sure he could focus to do more physically. Of course, Fleur quickly proved him wrong, moving to take him in her mouth and sending all other thoughts fleeing.

Her eyes met his as she sucked his cock in deep, just the way he liked it. Bill groaned, letting his feelings out as she licked around him and made his body tighten and tingle in the best way.

Uncertain how much of him she could take — did morning sickness start so soon? — he didn’t thrust as usual. Instead, he stroked her hair gently, reverently, and tried to hold himself together as she urged him to fall apart.

When Bill couldn’t take being still any longer, he pulled away. “I think you’re the one who deserves to be taken care of right now,” he told her.

She rolled her eyes, but he noticed her pleased smile as they switched places, Fleur spreading herself for him on the bed like a feast.

And feast he did, devouring her until she was writhing and crying out, her thighs shaking around his head as her body convulsed. She was just coming down from the high of it when there was a knock at the door.

“We’re busy,” Bill growled loud enough to be sure he was heard.

“We’re all well aware,” Percy noted in a clipped tone. “You forgot to put up a silencing charm.”

Fleur giggled. “Eet was my fault, Percival,” she called out. “I weel be more careful next time. I was just too excited about ze bébé.”

There was a pause before Percy questioned, “Baby?” as he swung the door open.

Bill scrambled to cover his wife as Fleur giggled some more. “Do you mind? You know what we were doing!” he chastised, not bothering to hide himself. If his brother wanted to barge in, he could be the one embarrassed.

Percy didn’t seem perturbed however, just leaning against the doorframe as he asked, “Are you two really—“

“Oui,” Fleur said calmly, smiling as though she didn’t care that he had nearly seen an eyeful. “We weel ‘ave our first bébé in ze spring!”

He looked for a moment like he was weighing his words. “Does anyone else know yet?”

“No,” Bill responded, surprised when Percy answered with a grin.

“Then I should get to be the godfather!” he exclaimed.

“Godfather to who?” came a voice from the hall. Without seeing them, Bill wasn’t sure which of the twins it was.

“Those noises wouldn’t have been you making a baby, would they?” asked the other twin. George, he could see now, as they both peered in the door.

“No need,” Fleur said, smiling as she held the sheet up over her breasts. Bill knew it was for his benefit. Fleur didn’t care one bit about modesty. He, on the other hand, was hastily donning pants. “We are expecting already.”

“Expecting what?” Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she joined the growing crowd at the magically expanding door. Ember was clearly pleased with the way this was going.

Bill sighed. This wasn’t the way he would have envisioned telling the family, but he supposed it was about as Weasley as such things could go.

“Someone’s been getting busy — and not just this morning,” Fred informed her gleefully.

“Well of course they—“ Hermione began, then her hands flew to her mouth. “Expecting!?” she shrieked excitedly.

“Oui!” Fleur said, laughing when Hermione flew toward her and bounced on the bed into his wife’s waiting arms. Bill shook his head at the two as he continued getting dressed.

By the time he turned back to his brothers, they had been joined by a wide-eyed Harry as well as Andromeda and baby Teddy.

Looking amused, Andromeda commented, “You’re going to need a bigger nursery before long.”

“We are,” Bill agreed, smiling at the thought of children all over the house.

“Why are you all being so loud?” Ginny complained, shoving George out of her way as she marched through the door.

“Sounds like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” Fred observed, his eyes narrowed as he helped George steady himself.

Ignoring him, Ginny stared at Hermione and Fleur on the bed. “What’s going on?”

“We are going to be ‘aving our babies togezzer! Zey weel grow up like siblings!” Fleur gushed happily. Bill smiled at the thought.

But Ginny wasn’t smiling. “Oh,” she said. “That’ll be… fun.” With that, she turned and walked out of the room leaving everyone staring after her in surprise.

“Mate, you better go after her,” Fred said, nudging Harry.

“Why?” Harry asked, then gulped at the look Fred gave him. “I know why. I meant… what do I do with… whatever that is?”

“I’ll come with you and see if I can help,” Andromeda offered.

Bill was nearly as grateful as Harry was. He didn’t want any drama right now — not when they were so happy! Fleur was biting her lip, looking uncertain and it made him want to growl at something — someone.

Hermione touched Fleur’s arm, getting her attention. “I know this just happened, but have you thought of any names yet?”

The abrupt change in topics made Fleur laugh. “Non. Eet eez too soon, mon chou. Zis was ze first morning I could try ze spell.”

“But you’ve been wanting a baby for a while,” Hermione pointed out.

Bill smiled at the sly look on Fleur’s face as her eyes roamed over the assorted Weasley men still gathered at their door. “I made breakfast earlier. A few crepes are waiting in stasis.”

The brothers glanced at one another and took off. Bill laughed, hearing them shoving one another in the hallway as they tried to get ahead of each other. No doubt Fleur had made a huge pile of them, but they wouldn’t last long against the Weasley appetite.

“Do I still get the ones you brought for me?” he asked her, sauntering toward the bed.

“Eef you share with ‘Ermione,” Fleur said.

Giving her a fake pout, Bill sat down beside her. “I suppose I’ve learned to share well enough.”

Both women rolled their eyes at him, though they were smiling. Catching Fleur’s hand, Hermione asked, “Now will you tell me the names you’re thinking of?”

Bill listened happily as he enjoyed his half of the crepes, wondering how he had gotten so lucky to have these two wonderful women as his wives, and now a baby on the way as well.

***********

As much as he had enjoyed the morning’s bounty of crepes, Fred was too excited to stay long, dragging George to the floo as soon as they had both eaten a plate full.

“Oi! I was planning for seconds!” George protested.

“Percy will appreciate not having to fight for them. And Charlie will be in from his creatures soon. Harrikins might get a chance, too. Plenty of bodies to finish them off.”

“I wasn’t worried about the crepes,” George grumbled, but Fred just laughed.

“Come on,” he urged, hauling George down the stairs from the flat into the shop and toward the back room.

“This better be good,” George said, still grumbling. Fred was relieved to feel curiosity blossoming through their bond despite his words.

“It is,” Fred assured him. “Even Snape will be proud.”

“Snape?” George questioned, then his eyes lit up in understanding. “You’ve finished the watches!?”

“I have!” Fred crowed, producing a set from inside a box on his desk.

As he quickly explained how they worked, George’s grin became wider and wider. “These are just as brilliant as I imagined them!”

“Let’s test them!” Fred exclaimed. “You apparate somewhere and I’ll call you.”

It didn’t take long to prove that they worked spectacularly and for George to return. “This is going to revolutionize communication in the wizarding world,” his twin said as he appeared beside Fred.

“I can’t believe we did this,” Fred agreed. They had invented many things, but this felt monumental in a new way. He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt a bit teary-eyed.

“It is a big thing,” George answered his unspoken words. “You have a right to feel proud.”

“You do, too, Twin O Mine,” Fred said, nudging George’s shoulder. “You started this project, remember?”

“I did, but I couldn’t have worked out the specifics without you,” he admitted.

“It’s why we were born a team,” Fred said with a grin.

“Too true,” George agreed. “Have you sent off the patent papers yet?”

“Sent and received them back. I wanted to be sure before anyone knew.”

“Even me?” George asked, clearly surprised. They had never done it that way before.

“Even you. Word of this couldn’t get out, and you know how we are when we get overly excited,” Fred explained.

For a moment, George seemed uncertain on how to respond, then he nodded with a smile. “I do know. Just… don’t cut me out of the other things.”

“Never, Georgie,” Fred promised.

“We’re going to need to do a big launch for these,” George said, settling in for the business side of things that he was so much better at managing.

“Yes, but we also want them out for the Hogwarts crowd — which should hit any day now, as soon as the lists come out.”

“I’m surprised they’re not already, honestly,” George admitted. “There’s just a couple of weeks left before term starts.”

“Merlin,” Fred cursed.

“It’s okay. I’m sure we can make plenty—”

“Not that,” Fred said, shaking his head. “We have two more weeks with Hermione, then she’ll be off to the castle with most of the family. But not us.”

George froze. “I hadn’t thought about that yet. I’ve been working hard not to think about it.”

“Well we need to,” Fred declared. “First off, we need to make her a very special watch that pairs with all of ours.”

“Absolutely,” George agreed. “And spend every minute we can with her. Wait. All the watches are supposed to be able to communicate with the others. That was the point of the location potion, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Fred agreed. “And they will, but we’re not quite there yet. At the moment, it will just be between each set of watches. Which will still be a huge step forward in communication, but on a smaller scale than I hope to do in the future.”

“We don’t need to just hope, Freddie,” George declared.

“We scheme instead,” Fred completed. It was something they had been saying since the beginning of their joke shop dream. “And I’m scheming that the first multi-watch set we make will be for our family. I hope to add a special feature to the Weasley watches — and only ours — that will work like Mum’s clock to help us keep track of one another.”

“Do we really want to do that? It’s a little bit creepy, you must admit,” George said.

“I considered that, but I think it’s worth it for the peace of mind.” At a stern look from George, Fred sighed. “If everyone agrees, of course.”

“Of course,” George agreed, beaming.

“Though I don’t know when we’ll be able to chat with everyone. These watches are going to take a lot of time,” Fred admitted.

“We’ll just have to work quickly. How fast can we produce these?” George asked.

“About 20 sets per day. They’re complex,” Fred told him apologetically. It would take a while to get any kind of stockpile prepared.

“Don’t worry. We can take orders once the initial sets are gone.”

“The big question is what to focus on next,” Fred mused. He chuckled as George rolled his eyes.

“Can we focus on this launch first? And our girl. We don’t have much time with her if you recall.”

“Sure, sure,” Fred replied, though his gaze was far away. “But that potion Harry messed up has got me thinking. What if we did a purely adult line of products?”

“An adult line?” George asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Yeah… things for people to enjoy together. I know you and Harry certainly enjoyed that potion,” Fred pointed out slyly.

As he had hoped, George’s face turned crimson. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t like it,” Fred said, happy his brother was going to talk about it.

Burying his face in his hands, George mumbled, “Whether I liked it or not is irrelevant since he is with our baby sister.”

Well, pointing that out made talking about it a bit of a downer. “We’re all getting pretty good at sharing Hermione. Maybe Harry could be shared, too,” Fred suggested. “For you.”

“But would he want to be? And you saw the way Gin reacted earlier to sharing the pregnancy spotlight. I don’t think sharing is her favorite thing right now.”

“You think that’s what she was mad about?” Fred asked. He had thought it was odd behavior, but nothing that major. Honestly, he had thought Harry must have messed up in some way and she was just reacting weirdly to Fleur because of it.

George looked at him like he was daft. “Yes. I’m certain of it.”

“Bugger,” Fred cursed.

“Indeed,” George agreed, then cleared his throat and said, “So you think we should try some adult products? What are your initial ideas?” He paused, then grinned, “And how do we make them even more special for Hermione?”

*********

Dahrian pounced, sending a surge of pure adrenaline through Charlie’s system as he jumped, tucked, and rolled away while the dragon breathed a puff of fire above him. Popping up from the ground, Charlie couldn’t hold back his laugh, especially when the dragon looked so irritated that he was still moving around.

They continued to play for longer than Charlie meant to, but he knew it was Saturday, so no one was expecting him anywhere. Hermione was with the twins and no one else was likely to be looking for him. He had left before anyone was up and they all knew it was his time with the dragons.

Only it turned out he was wrong. Seeing a figure just inside the warded cave entrance, Charlie pulled his wand before he recognized the goblin shaman, Gritnar. Dahrian turned at the sound of the goblin, but instead of rushing forward to fiercely defend, he came to a halt when the shaman raised his hand in a sign of peace.

Charlie blinked as the shaman walked right up to the beast and scratched behind Dahrian’s ear — something the dragon rarely allowed even Charlie to do. For the shaman, he reacted like an overgrown cat. It was mind-boggling.

“I see you are taking good care of our vault guards,” Gritnar observed.

“Of course,” Charlie responded. “It is my honor as well as my job.”

“Work is often best done when it is more than a job.”

Charlie shifted his weight, wondering what the shaman was doing down here. The goblin smiled at him, teeth gleaming in the illusory sunlight. It made Charlie have to repress a shudder even though he knew that sort of smile was a sign of genuine happiness. It only made the shaman smile harder.

“I came to warn you, Dragon Master.”

Charlie stiffened. “Is something happening that will affect the dragons?” he asked.

“Nothing like that,” Gritnar said gruffly. “This is a personal warning. About the prophecy.”

“You said the prophecy wasn’t a possibility any more,” Charlie said. He wasn’t letting anything happen to Ginny’s baby. Or Bill and Fleur’s if they were expecting now.

“It isn’t, but I have seen certain signs… the goblin king will interpret the prophecy as he wishes, should these circumstances prove true.”

“What signs? What circumstances?”

“You must not get your wife pregnant,” Gritnar said seriously.

Charlie almost laughed. Shaking his head, he said, “We don’t intend to. She isn’t interested for some time, maybe years.”

“That may become… more difficult than you expect.”

“How?” Charlie asked, nearly a demand.

“I won’t explain the ways of soulmate magic to a wizard, not when it’s your birthright to learn the details,” the shaman said, grinning unrepentantly.

“I don’t—”

“I know. I wouldn’t have warned you if I thought you knew,” he replied. “The other babes will be safe. But yours, with her, within this year? The king would resurrect the prophecy and demand the child.”

Before he could ask anything else, Gritnar’s staff began to glow and suddenly he was gone, leaving Charlie frustrated and bewildered.

Dahrian snuffed at him, apparently unhappy to have lost the shaman’s touch. Absentmindedly, Charlie took over, scratching the dragon behind the ear. He would have research to do when he got home.

*********

Rushing out and closing the door to Ginny’s bedroom just before the shoe she had thrown at him thudded into the door, Harry let out a relieved breath. He could hear Andromeda still talking calmly in there, but apparently anything he said just made everything worse.

He wouldn’t mind it so much if “everything” didn’t boil down to Ginny being angry that someone else was pregnant at the same time she was. She had been very forthcoming, once they were away from Fleur, about her true feelings.

Andromeda had remained calm, suggesting quietly that Ginny would come to a place of acceptance and pointing out that it was quite unlikely she would go through an entire pregnancy without meeting any other pregnant witches. Not to mention it could be quite nice to have someone to share pregnancy woes with her.

As persuasive as Andromeda could be, her words hadn’t made much difference as far as Harry could tell. Ginny apparently was determined to throw a tantrum. If he was being honest, her behavior was disgusting to him. He wanted their child to grow up with a huge family, including siblings. Technically, Bill and Fleur’s child would be a cousin, but if they all lived here together at Emberhaven, the baby would be as good as a sibling.

Harry badly needed to get out of this house before he stormed back in and yelled at his girlfriend. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked downstairs, hoping he would come across someone with a plan for the day. To his surprise, it was absolutely silent downstairs.

“Ember, is anyone down here?” he asked into the silence. His query was met with more silence, and a feeling like the house was apologetic.

He was truly on his own with all these feelings and he needed to find something to do.

Grimmauld, he suddenly realized. It had been ages since he had been there, worked on the house. The war orphans needed it sooner rather than later. He should do his best to get it finished.

Destination decided, Harry headed for the floo. There was at least one room that still needed some demolition. He would start there.

********

Approaching the Burrow with trepidation, Percy was relieved to see his mum wave from the window above the kitchen sink. She disappeared from view but was soon outside, smothering him in a tight hug.

“My Percy!” she gushed. “I’m so glad to see you!”

“I’m happy to see you, too, Mum,” he told her, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. He might be here to check on her progress with the lesson plans, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy the time with her while he was at it. Only… it shouldn’t be just her. “Where’s Aunt Muriel?” he asked.

Mum’s eyes narrowed as she stepped away from him. “Don’t you worry about that old busybody. She went home for the first time in ages, so we have a break from her!”

“She’s meant to be here so you can protect each other, Mum,” Percy worried.

She huffed. “It’s fine. I can take care of myself just fine without her.”

“Mum…” he began.

“Don’t you ‘Mum’ me in that tone,” she scolded. “I won’t be told what to do in my own house — not by my aunt, and certainly not by my own son.”

“This is about your safety. I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” Percy tried.

His mum shook her spatula at him. “You’ve always been terrible at lying, Percy.”

He started to argue, but realized there was no point. “What are we supposed to do to keep you safe when Ron’s at work then? Not to mention keeping Aunt Muriel safe?”

“You’ll just have to be with me instead,” she said, beaming at him.

“Mum…” Percy groaned. “I have work and… and a life.” She didn’t want to know about the other things he got up to — time with Kingsley or his plans for Hermione this evening — so there was no need to elaborate.

“I had a life, too,” she responded before he could go on, her mood shifting. “I don’t know what I have now.”

“I imagine you have a lot of lesson planning going on right now,” Percy suggested, doing his best to get her on the safer topic of his reason for visiting.

“Busy work,” Mum replied glumly. “No one really cares if that’s done.”

Percy blinked. “Headmistress McGonagall will certainly care. Come now, Mum. You didn’t raise me to have that kind of attitude and I would be remiss if I allowed you to have it.”

She huffed and waved him into the house. “Fine. The lesson plans are on the desk, if you absolutely must see them.”

“Are you finished with them, then?” Percy asked excitedly. He knew he was a bit of a nerd about this, but he had always loved a good syllabus.

He could tell by the pause that they must not be. Before she could answer, he made a beeline for the desk. “Because if they’re not, I would love to help you.”

“You certainly would not,” Mum said, shaking her head. “It’s dull and you undoubtedly have better things to do with your Saturday.”

“Did you forget which of your children you’re speaking to?” Percy asked, brow quirked up. “I studied cauldron bottom thickness for months and found it to be fascinating and important work. I think I can handle some lesson plans without falling asleep.”

“I’m still sure there are things you would rather do than spend time with your mum.”

“Actually, there aren’t,” he replied. “I set aside this time for you. Just because I have a life doesn’t mean you’re not a part of it. I didn’t mean that earlier — just that I can’t be here all the time.”

She looked flustered for a moment, before saying, “I still need to meet with that Malfoy woman. So they won’t be final plans. Just my thoughts on what we need to cover. But we could…” She paused, looking hopeful. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Well, I was wanting a second opinion on which lesson to begin with. I want something that will intrigue them all. I was thinking of fashion or hair, but I don’t want to put off the boys.”

“What about the language of flowers?” Percy suggested.

“You think that would appeal to the boys more?” Mum asked, surprised.

“Sell it to them as a secret code to communicate with each other with the young ones. And for the older ones, a way to speak to girls without putting them on the spot.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant, Percy!” she praised, making his ears go pink. “It will keep things from seeming stuffy from the outset. And we can have them communicate with us and each other through the language of flowers throughout the school year.”

And she was off. Percy smiled as his mum began to rattle off her ideas for other lessons, clearly pleased when he began organizing them neatly with the system she had used when they were young and she was schooling them.

Yes, this would be a pleasant way to spend the afternoon.

********

It wasn’t fair that Ron had to spend his Saturday running errands when the rest of the Ministry was shut down. Sure, there was never a true day off for an Auror, but he hadn’t expected that to be quite so literal during training.

Grumbling, he made his way down to the Department of Mysteries, irritated that he couldn’t even deliver papers to another department without Millie tagging along. “Partners don’t split up,” she had stubbornly insisted.

She had also pointed out that Death Eaters had been in that very department recently and might come back again. Ron hated conceding that she was right. If his theory — and Harry, Hermione, and Ginny’s — was correct, they would definitely be back. That didn’t mean he had to admit it.

“You don’t have to be such an arse just because I’m here,” Millie stated as they rode the lift down. She was no doubt annoyed that she had to run to keep up with his long legs. Ron didn’t feel one bit sorry about it.

“Why not?” he asked. “I wouldn’t want you to forget who I am.”

Rolling her eyes, Millie shook her head. “I don’t think you’re an arse to everyone. Just Slytherins, me particularly.”

“You’re the one they force me to spend time with,” he goaded.

Millie’s cheeks turned red and he could see her fighting to maintain her composure. He loved seeing the color overtake her creamy skin.

Ron was glad they were standing still in the lift, because that thought gave him pause enough that he didn’t think he could have kept walking. Even when the lift stopped, Millie had to nudge him to get him moving. Ron felt like he had just been confunded.

As they approached the Department of Mysteries, they were met by four cloaked figures. Ron gripped his wand tightly, despite having known they would be here. Something about the hooded figures just made Ron uneasy.

One of the Unspeakables stepped forward, hands out, palms up, to show they were unarmed. “I’m Unspeakable Ogden. You have the parchments from the Aurors?” a male voice asked.

“Yes,” Ron responded, but he didn’t move to hand them over. Millie nudged him, but Ron was still standing in a defensive position with his wand out. “Who are your coworkers here?”

Unspeakable Ogden gave an audible sigh. “I don’t believe that is yours to know, Trainee Weasley, but I will indulge you.”

Millie shifted beside him, her shoulder rubbing against his bicep, she was standing so close. Too close to his wand hand, if a fight broke out. Not that there would be a fight. This was a simple delivery, Ron reminded himself. Though, if that was true, why were there four of them to take it from him when one would have been sufficient?

“These are Unspeakables Hendricks, Dumbledore, and Ollivander,” Unspeakable Ogden introduced, gesturing to each one as he said their name. How he could tell the difference, Ron had no idea.

“Dumbledore? Ollivander?”

“I’m a cousin of the Dumbledores you know,” Unspeakable Dumbledore spoke. It sounded like she was sneering, though whether that was in reference to her cousins or simply because she was irritated at Ron, he wasn’t sure.

“And yes, I’m related to the wandmaker,” a patient baritone voice came from Unspeakable Ollivander’s hood. He didn’t specify how they were related, but it was really none of Ron’s business.

None of this was. “I apologize for my colleague,” Millie apologized, taking the parchments from Ron’s hand. “Here you go.”

“It is always smart to be cautious in these unsettled times,” Unspeakable Ogden said. “With our well known families, we are often doubly cautious.”

Ron couldn’t see the man’s face, but he felt judged nonetheless. Millie tugged at his shirtsleeve, none too subtly. “We should be going,” she said.

Unspeakable Ogden nodded, tucking the parchment package away in his robes before the four of them disappeared entirely. Ron blinked. If they disapparated, it was without the normal turn or any sound whatsoever. “How—”

“They’re Unspeakables, that’s how,” Millie said, sounding irritated as she dragged him back to the lifts. Once inside, she let loose on him. “What was that?” she demanded.

“What?”

“You were acting like you might not complete our assignment if you didn’t trust the Unspeakables enough,” she accused.

“There was something funny about them,” Ron said.

Millie rolled her eyes. “They’re Unspeakables. Of course there’s something funny about them. It’s practically in the job description.”

“They knew who I was,” he pointed out.

“Everyone knows who you are! You’re part of the ‘Golden Trio.’ And even if you weren’t, it doesn’t take a Seer to know you’re a Weasley.” That was certainly a good point, but Ron wasn’t going to concede so easily.

“Don’t you think we should be wary considering what else has happened down there?” he demanded, looking around the otherwise empty lift as though he expected someone to be listening. In a way, he was. Perhaps he had spent too much time around the twins and their Extendable Ears.

“Yes, being wary is warranted. Treating men and women who are purposefully and very legally disguised from us as though they are doing something wrong is not. If one of them — or all of them — weren’t supposed to be there, we would have no way of knowing. They could all be imposters and it wouldn’t matter. We don’t have the clearance to know who the Unspeakables are,” Millie pointed out. She was definitely irritated with him. When she huffed at a piece of her hair that had come loose from her ponytail, Ron grinned. She was cute when she was angry.

Millie glowered back. “This isn’t funny. You’re not part of the Golden Trio anymore, Ron.”

“I’ll always be part of the Golden Trio.”

“Fine. That’s true, but you’re not working with them. You’re not on your own. There are rules and regulations and ways that things are to be done,” she scolded before taking on an even more serious tone. “I’m your partner and I want to support you when you suspect things. But you have to think about working within the laws and scope of our job.”

Ron grunted in response. She was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. Besides, he was certain he was right, too. He could feel it even if he couldn’t explain it. There was something about those Unspeakables. The Dumbledore woman, especially, came across as untrustworthy with her sneering tone.

It wasn’t any of his business. Ron knew he hadn’t been assigned anything to do with the Department of Mysteries. But he was certain something big was going on down there. If only he knew what it was.

Millie was watching him as he thought through it. Ron jutted out his chin, not about to say another word, until her face softened and she said, “I think the whole thing was suspicious, too. I mean, four of them? For one packet of parchment? And such high profile family names, too. I didn’t even think the Unspeakables were supposed to give their names to just anyone.”

“We are Aurors,” he pointed out.

“Trainees,” she snorted. “Not exactly the most trustworthy trainees either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron demanded.

“You do have a bit of a temper, you know. And a stubborn streak a mile wide. And—”

“Oi! That’s enough out of you,” he responded as he would have to any of his friends or siblings. It took him aback for a moment. Perhaps she wasn’t absolutely hopeless as a partner after all. Not if she questioned this, too.

Notes:

I look forward to hearing your thoughts about everything, but particularly about the Unspeakables.

Do you think they're up to something? What is it? How does it fit with other things that have happened in the DoM? I'm so curious if anyone is figuring me out yet.

What do you think the shaman's warning means?

Side note: I don't *think* the twins had an adult line already in this story, but I could be 1000% wrong. We suffered the devastating loss (truly, it's been horrible) of my continuity sheet a couple of months ago, and it's much harder to answer my own questions about the story now while we're rebuilding it. At any rate, let me know if I'm wrong, or just play along as though I know what I've already written in this monstrosity. LOL

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Weasley Magic