This is a new story idea I had, so I decided to write it. It might be
long, it might be short, it all depends on the reviews I get. So, read on!
Disclaimer: It's sweet really that you think I own it, but I don't!
An Act of Desperation
~`~`~`~`~ Chapter 1: New Laws and Departures ~`~`~`~`~
The day dawned brightly and rays of mellow sunlight wafted into a second story rather-plain flat bedroom. Inside could be seen two figures close together upon a large bed with heavy blue down coverlets in the middle of a sparsely furnitured, but spotless, abode. With a bit of time, the rays grew lighter and brighter as they shone upon the two bodies on the bed. They fluttered over the gleaming painted walls and reflected onto the thin skin of a woman's eyelid. The eyes opened slowly and blinked a few times before coming into focus.
The woman was called Hermione Granger-Weasley and she had just awoken on the morning of May 8, 1999. They sun was warm, the blankets warmer still, and the arm that lay about her naked waist was the warmest of all. She smiled sleepily and cuddled into the finely muscled chest of the man beside her. At the moment, she didn't care that the day had begun, or that her husband was expected at work that day, or that she had a huge amount of cleaning to do in the front great room. All she cared was that she was warm, she was cozy, she was happy, and felt completely refreshed from the night's rest or, rather, lack thereof. With a slight grin she lazily brought her arm up around him to fall back into deep and lovely slumber.
Her movements woke the other occupant of the bed and he looked down at the mass of honey brown curls sprawled across his chest, belonging to his beloved wife. She was asleep again, but he decided that, it being their anniversary, he had other plans for her than sleep. As gently as he could he unwrapped her arm from him and untangled his fingers from her hair. She gave a soft snore, but didn't wake. He leaned down and kissed her on the bridge of her nose, hoping that the slight stirring would awaken her. She merely flicked her hand across her face as though scratching an itch. With an amused smile, he leaned forward and figured that he might as well go for the gusto. He roughly put his lips against hers. Of course, she awoke with a start.
He released her from the kiss with a laugh as he took in her wide open eyes and gaping crimson lips. "Ron!" she cried breathlessly. "Did you have to do that?"
He stroked her cheek with one calloused finger. "'Course I did, love. It's morning and you ought to get up." She mockingly glared at him.
"Oh, Ron, really," she sighed. "I don't have to get up if I don't want to. It's not like I have work or anything. Besides, you know what day it is. I thought we could have a bit of a lie-in." As she spoke, she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.
He smirked. "Do I? Let's see... It's Saturday, I have work, and you have a couple of house chores that you put off yesterday. I don't see anything special on that list, do you?"
Her hands tightened warningly in his hair. "Are you saying you don't know what today is?" Her whisper had a short and sharp tone and her manner was no longer teasing.
"Of course I do, of course I do," he laughed at her. "Today is Anniversary Number One."
Slowly her fingers began their light strokes through his hair again. "Good. I'd thought you'd forgotten for a moment there."
He smiled at her lovingly. "How could a man forget the best day of his life?"
Upon hearing the words, tears sprang into her eyes and her heart felt like it was expanding to the point of explosion. "Oh, Ron." She pulled him closer down over her and kissed him passionately.
Feeling he had successfully flattered his wife and managed to get her to exactly where he wanted, Ron decided that having a willing and beautiful woman beside him every morning was the very best way to start any day. He pulled her up to him, loving the way the soft skin of her breasts on his chest sent shocks of electricity through him. He could feel the feather- light touches of her fingers tracing lines up and down the planes of the muscles in his back and the wet and frantic movement of her lips beneath his. Already passion and desire were mounting within him and he knew that the same was happening to Hermione. After all, they were young, too young perhaps, and married.
But, as is the way of life, their lovemaking had barely begun before they were disturbed by the insistent tapping of an owl on their one window. Ron growled low in his throat and detached his lips from those of his wife. He turned to the window with venom in his eyes. Had looks been able to kill, he knew he would have been explaining to his neighbors why an owl corpse was in the middle of the road later that day. Fortunately for the owl, Ron was no terribly smart (he let Hermione take care of that sort of thing) or terribly cruel (he figured there was enough cruel people already) wizard. He merely stood and opened the window to admit the hooting messenger in.
"Thank you," he said gruffly as it dropped its message and departed. He picked up the piece of parchment and scanned its contents. His face drained itself of color. "I don't believe it," he mumbled. "I simply don't believe it."
Hermione, now completely worried sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled on her robe. She walked over behind her husband. "What is it, Ron?" Her voice was hushed and hurried in uncertainty.
He turned to her with a wry and shocked grimace. "I don't believe it!" he cried. "Look at that!" He handed her the letter disbelievingly.
Her curiosity piqued, she took it from him and looked at what it said.
"By Order of the Ministry of Magic
Following the demise of You-Know-Who and the recent election of Minister Lucius Malfoy, all wizards or witches of Muggle lineage are hereby banned from the Wizarding world. Exceptions are made for those married to someone of wizard parentage or are parents themselves of wizards or witches.
Signed,
Lucius Malfoy
Minister of Magic"
Hermione stared at the paper in absolute shock. In the back of her mind, she cursed the day that Fudge had ever let Malfoy go, free of charge. He'd said that the Malfoys were model wizards and ought to be excused from such slight discrepancies of character. Everyone knew they were guilty of aiding Voldemort and of killing numerous Muggles and Muggleborns. It sickened her to think that he had now become Minister of Magic and had created such a law that banned nearly every Muggleborn witch or wizard in the entire United Kingdom community.
She turned to her husband. "Can they do that?" She hoped desperately that he'd say 'No, it simply isn't done' or something of the sort, but he merely looked at her grimly.
"I'm afraid he can, Hermione." He ran one square hand through his red hair angrily and began pacing around the room. "Damn that man!" he yelled to no one in particular. The sound reverberated through the room. Hermione flinched and Ron, noticing, sighed and gathered her into his arms.
"It'll be all right, 'Mione," he soothed, feeling her trembling slightly. "It won't last long, you'll see. The Wizengamot, they'll vote it down. Just wait and see." He placed a few calming kisses on her mass of curly and bushy hair.
Just as she had begun to gain control of her body, there was a sharp knock on the door of the flat. Both Hermione and Ron jumped in surprise. Ron, being ever the gentleman, stood, wrapped himself in a robe, squeezed his wife's arm supportively and went to go answer the door.
She hugged her arms about herself and rocked slightly on the balls of her feet. She didn't want to believe that it was true. She couldn't make herself believe it. All those children with powers they'd never learn to use, all the students who'd have to leave the school they'd just discovered, all the unmarried men and women who had yet to really live in the wizarding world, all those yet unborn who would never have the chance to know what they could have become. It was all too much to bear. They'd never get to stay. She felt guilty, in a way, for being married to a pureblooded wizard. They'd leave while she stayed. The taste of magic would now forever be bittersweet to her.
"Hermione!" Ron called from the front room. "Hermione, come here! You'll never believe it!"
She looked at the door uncertainly as she pulled her robe ties closed. Sighing, she opened the door to find herself staring into a pair of shocking green eyes.
"Harry?" she cried, after recovering from the shock. "Harry, is that really you?" She took in his disheveled hair, his crooked glasses, and the faint lightning shaped scar on his forehead. All spelled Harry Potter in her mind. "Oh, Harry!"
She threw herself at him and hugged him so tightly that she knew he must be having trouble breathing. She released him and proceeded to pound him with questions.
"Oh, Harry! How did you get here? The last we heard of you, you were in India! What are you doing here? How have you been? Why are you here? Oh, Harry!" Once again, she wrapped him in a tight embrace.
By the time she'd finally recovered her senses, she let him go again. He laughed along with Ron at Hermione before deciding to answer the questions.
"You, Hermione Granger, have not changed one bit since school," he teased. "Still the same rapid fire questioning and totally confusing theatrics."
She smiled indulgently at him. "And you're still the same Harry Potter I see. Always making fun of me. And it's not Hermione Granger anymore, you know. It's Granger-Weasley." She blushed at his smile at the hyphenated name. "You know I couldn't give up the Granger. Besides, it still allows Snape to feel superior and call me Miss Granger whenever I visit either Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall."
"Well, Mrs. Hermione Granger-Weasley, to answer your questions," he smirked. "I Apparated, of course. Quickest way to travel, you know. And I was in India until yesterday. I had to come for some, uh, business." He glanced at the floor shiftily for a minute before continuing. "I've been absolutely fine. India's quite the place for fun. And the food's spectacular if you know where to go. Their wizarding community's really interesting. You'd like it there."
Hermione was immediately distracted by the thought of the Indian wizarding community. "Is it really quite interesting? I've read about it, you know. I've read all about the buildings and the schools and the--" she caught on to his ploy. She shook her finger at him like she would a naughty child. "Oh no, you don't, Harry. You're trying to get me off topic. I want to know why you're back in England and didn't send us any prior notice. We haven't seen you since..." She trailed off as she remembered.
The last time that anyone save Dumbledore had seen Harry was nearly a year ago, right after he'd defeated Voldemort. It was at the funeral service for all those who had died protecting Hogwarts from the attack in early June: Professor Flitwick, Dean Thomas, Susan Bones, Mad-Eye Moody, Orla Quirke, Colin Creevey, Morag McDougal, Zacharias Smith, Ernie MacMillan, Hagrid, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Professor Sinistra, Madam Pince, and numerous others that Hermione hadn't known by name. But the biggest blow to her, Harry, and especially Ron, had been the numerous Weasleys lost. Arthur had been killed by the Death Eater Nott at the beginning of the battle as he was defending the gates. Charlie fell to MacNair near the Forbidden Forest. George was killed in the Great Hall, along with Bill, while keeping the Death Eaters from reaching Dumbledore, Harry, and Voldemort as they fought their Last Battle. Fred, Molly, and Percy were not killed but were grievously injured when one of the staircases had crumbled with them on it, along with their Death Eater opponents. Ginny, the youngest and perhaps most precious of the Weasleys fell to Voldemort himself as she blocked a killing curse meant for Harry Potter. Hermione could remember seeing the girl caught up in a flash of brilliant neon green, the terror in her eyes so fierce, along with the love she felt for the man she protected. As Ginny's crumpled form fell to the ground Hermione heard the cry of dismay, disbelief, and grief from her dear friend. She herself was too busy fighting beside Ron against half a dozen Death Eaters to be of any help. Still, she knew that Harry was hurting and that he probably would not have beaten Voldemort if it hadn't been for the anger and guilt and agony he felt at the death of his beloved Ginny. After the service, he'd disappeared for months without a word. They didn't receive a letter until nearly December. And now, here he was and she had to bring up bad memories.
She looked up at him with sincerity. "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean--" He held up a hand.
"No worries, Hermione," he said with a strained smile. "It's all over and done with now." She glanced at Ron who looked pale and grim. She mouthed him an apology as well, but he didn't seem to see her. "Besides," Harry continued, "I came here to tell you good news, news that should make you happy."
Hermione turned hopeful eyes back to her friend. "Really, Harry? What is it?"
He grinned and opened his arms in a wide shrug. "I'm married!"
Hermione, expecting many things, was not expecting this. "Married?" she managed to get out through her shock. "To who?"
He shrugged again, a sheepish smile on his face. "Hannah Abbot," he answered quietly.
She stared at him. "You married Hannah Abbot?" He nodded. "Oh, oh my goodness. Wh--When did you--I mean, why did you--? Oh, Harry, you married Hannah Abbot!"
Harry laughed at her. "Yeah. I met her again in India. Seems like she was supposed to marry Ernie MacMillan, but when he died, she went and pulled the same number I did. She went off to India to, I dunno, escape, I guess, and I met her. We've been friends for a while and we decided that we ought to come back here. You know, face the past and all that. We came to Dumbledore and he welcomed us back pretty well, I suppose. We were still talking with him about the whole Battle when an owl came in. This was yesterday morning. It was telling Dumbledore about that stupid law banning Muggleborns from the wizarding world unless they were married or had children. Well, Hannah's a Muggleborn* and she didn't want to go back to the Muggle world, I didn't want her to go back to the Muggle world, and since she doesn't have any children, we took the only other solution. Dumbledore married us right then and there. It was simple, really."
Hermione's brain took a minute to catch up with her friend's words. "I can't believe it Harry!" she squealed after she got all the information registered. "You're married!" She hugged him tightly and released him suddenly. "But you're so young, Harry. You're only 18!"
He laughed at her. "Yeah, I'm only 18, but you and Ron over here," he jerked his thumb at the lanky red-head, "You guys were only 17. And still in school." She blushed.
"Yeah, well, you know very well why we married when we did, Harry Potter," she answered hotly. "The threat became more dangerous at that time and we decided not to wait. And you agreed wholeheartedly too."
Harry laughed again and hugged her. "And I still do, too." Hermione pushed him away teasingly and smiled at him.
Just as she opened her mouth to ask him more questions, the door to their flat was pushed open roughly. A very worried and dirty looking Remus Lupin banged in. "Ron, Harry!" he panted. "Dumbledore's sent me. A gathering-- of Death Eaters--in Surrey. Told me to--get help. He needs us--as fast as possible."
The feeling in the room had changed as swiftly as it had when Harry returned to meet with the young pair of Weasleys. The faces of Hermione's husband and friend turned from happy and carefree to grim and set. She knew that they would leave and she'd be left behind. She would undoubtedly be able to help them immensely, but she wouldn't be able to go due to Ron. He always made sure that she stayed home. He didn't want her to get into danger; he didn't want her to get hurt. It was the same story every time and every time Hermione ended up sitting at home fretting about what might be happening to the people she loved best. It was very frustrating.
Ron hurried into the bedroom and a second later appeared wearing a pair of Muggle jeans and a heavy jumper. He hurried over to his wife as he tried to snap the clasp of his robe. She did it for him and kissed him soundly on the mouth.
"Be safe," she whispered to him, holding him close for a moment while Harry and Remus pressured them on.
"I will," he promised. With one last kiss and a swift embrace he and his companions were gone, leaving Hermione with wringing hands to wonder and worry.
~`~`~`~`~ Well, that's the first chapter. Please tell me what you think!
* I don't remember it ever saying in the books whether Hannah was a Muggleborn or not, so I made her one for story purposes. Correct me if she isn't. I'll try to think of another name to change it to.
Disclaimer: It's sweet really that you think I own it, but I don't!
An Act of Desperation
~`~`~`~`~ Chapter 1: New Laws and Departures ~`~`~`~`~
The day dawned brightly and rays of mellow sunlight wafted into a second story rather-plain flat bedroom. Inside could be seen two figures close together upon a large bed with heavy blue down coverlets in the middle of a sparsely furnitured, but spotless, abode. With a bit of time, the rays grew lighter and brighter as they shone upon the two bodies on the bed. They fluttered over the gleaming painted walls and reflected onto the thin skin of a woman's eyelid. The eyes opened slowly and blinked a few times before coming into focus.
The woman was called Hermione Granger-Weasley and she had just awoken on the morning of May 8, 1999. They sun was warm, the blankets warmer still, and the arm that lay about her naked waist was the warmest of all. She smiled sleepily and cuddled into the finely muscled chest of the man beside her. At the moment, she didn't care that the day had begun, or that her husband was expected at work that day, or that she had a huge amount of cleaning to do in the front great room. All she cared was that she was warm, she was cozy, she was happy, and felt completely refreshed from the night's rest or, rather, lack thereof. With a slight grin she lazily brought her arm up around him to fall back into deep and lovely slumber.
Her movements woke the other occupant of the bed and he looked down at the mass of honey brown curls sprawled across his chest, belonging to his beloved wife. She was asleep again, but he decided that, it being their anniversary, he had other plans for her than sleep. As gently as he could he unwrapped her arm from him and untangled his fingers from her hair. She gave a soft snore, but didn't wake. He leaned down and kissed her on the bridge of her nose, hoping that the slight stirring would awaken her. She merely flicked her hand across her face as though scratching an itch. With an amused smile, he leaned forward and figured that he might as well go for the gusto. He roughly put his lips against hers. Of course, she awoke with a start.
He released her from the kiss with a laugh as he took in her wide open eyes and gaping crimson lips. "Ron!" she cried breathlessly. "Did you have to do that?"
He stroked her cheek with one calloused finger. "'Course I did, love. It's morning and you ought to get up." She mockingly glared at him.
"Oh, Ron, really," she sighed. "I don't have to get up if I don't want to. It's not like I have work or anything. Besides, you know what day it is. I thought we could have a bit of a lie-in." As she spoke, she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.
He smirked. "Do I? Let's see... It's Saturday, I have work, and you have a couple of house chores that you put off yesterday. I don't see anything special on that list, do you?"
Her hands tightened warningly in his hair. "Are you saying you don't know what today is?" Her whisper had a short and sharp tone and her manner was no longer teasing.
"Of course I do, of course I do," he laughed at her. "Today is Anniversary Number One."
Slowly her fingers began their light strokes through his hair again. "Good. I'd thought you'd forgotten for a moment there."
He smiled at her lovingly. "How could a man forget the best day of his life?"
Upon hearing the words, tears sprang into her eyes and her heart felt like it was expanding to the point of explosion. "Oh, Ron." She pulled him closer down over her and kissed him passionately.
Feeling he had successfully flattered his wife and managed to get her to exactly where he wanted, Ron decided that having a willing and beautiful woman beside him every morning was the very best way to start any day. He pulled her up to him, loving the way the soft skin of her breasts on his chest sent shocks of electricity through him. He could feel the feather- light touches of her fingers tracing lines up and down the planes of the muscles in his back and the wet and frantic movement of her lips beneath his. Already passion and desire were mounting within him and he knew that the same was happening to Hermione. After all, they were young, too young perhaps, and married.
But, as is the way of life, their lovemaking had barely begun before they were disturbed by the insistent tapping of an owl on their one window. Ron growled low in his throat and detached his lips from those of his wife. He turned to the window with venom in his eyes. Had looks been able to kill, he knew he would have been explaining to his neighbors why an owl corpse was in the middle of the road later that day. Fortunately for the owl, Ron was no terribly smart (he let Hermione take care of that sort of thing) or terribly cruel (he figured there was enough cruel people already) wizard. He merely stood and opened the window to admit the hooting messenger in.
"Thank you," he said gruffly as it dropped its message and departed. He picked up the piece of parchment and scanned its contents. His face drained itself of color. "I don't believe it," he mumbled. "I simply don't believe it."
Hermione, now completely worried sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled on her robe. She walked over behind her husband. "What is it, Ron?" Her voice was hushed and hurried in uncertainty.
He turned to her with a wry and shocked grimace. "I don't believe it!" he cried. "Look at that!" He handed her the letter disbelievingly.
Her curiosity piqued, she took it from him and looked at what it said.
"By Order of the Ministry of Magic
Following the demise of You-Know-Who and the recent election of Minister Lucius Malfoy, all wizards or witches of Muggle lineage are hereby banned from the Wizarding world. Exceptions are made for those married to someone of wizard parentage or are parents themselves of wizards or witches.
Signed,
Lucius Malfoy
Minister of Magic"
Hermione stared at the paper in absolute shock. In the back of her mind, she cursed the day that Fudge had ever let Malfoy go, free of charge. He'd said that the Malfoys were model wizards and ought to be excused from such slight discrepancies of character. Everyone knew they were guilty of aiding Voldemort and of killing numerous Muggles and Muggleborns. It sickened her to think that he had now become Minister of Magic and had created such a law that banned nearly every Muggleborn witch or wizard in the entire United Kingdom community.
She turned to her husband. "Can they do that?" She hoped desperately that he'd say 'No, it simply isn't done' or something of the sort, but he merely looked at her grimly.
"I'm afraid he can, Hermione." He ran one square hand through his red hair angrily and began pacing around the room. "Damn that man!" he yelled to no one in particular. The sound reverberated through the room. Hermione flinched and Ron, noticing, sighed and gathered her into his arms.
"It'll be all right, 'Mione," he soothed, feeling her trembling slightly. "It won't last long, you'll see. The Wizengamot, they'll vote it down. Just wait and see." He placed a few calming kisses on her mass of curly and bushy hair.
Just as she had begun to gain control of her body, there was a sharp knock on the door of the flat. Both Hermione and Ron jumped in surprise. Ron, being ever the gentleman, stood, wrapped himself in a robe, squeezed his wife's arm supportively and went to go answer the door.
She hugged her arms about herself and rocked slightly on the balls of her feet. She didn't want to believe that it was true. She couldn't make herself believe it. All those children with powers they'd never learn to use, all the students who'd have to leave the school they'd just discovered, all the unmarried men and women who had yet to really live in the wizarding world, all those yet unborn who would never have the chance to know what they could have become. It was all too much to bear. They'd never get to stay. She felt guilty, in a way, for being married to a pureblooded wizard. They'd leave while she stayed. The taste of magic would now forever be bittersweet to her.
"Hermione!" Ron called from the front room. "Hermione, come here! You'll never believe it!"
She looked at the door uncertainly as she pulled her robe ties closed. Sighing, she opened the door to find herself staring into a pair of shocking green eyes.
"Harry?" she cried, after recovering from the shock. "Harry, is that really you?" She took in his disheveled hair, his crooked glasses, and the faint lightning shaped scar on his forehead. All spelled Harry Potter in her mind. "Oh, Harry!"
She threw herself at him and hugged him so tightly that she knew he must be having trouble breathing. She released him and proceeded to pound him with questions.
"Oh, Harry! How did you get here? The last we heard of you, you were in India! What are you doing here? How have you been? Why are you here? Oh, Harry!" Once again, she wrapped him in a tight embrace.
By the time she'd finally recovered her senses, she let him go again. He laughed along with Ron at Hermione before deciding to answer the questions.
"You, Hermione Granger, have not changed one bit since school," he teased. "Still the same rapid fire questioning and totally confusing theatrics."
She smiled indulgently at him. "And you're still the same Harry Potter I see. Always making fun of me. And it's not Hermione Granger anymore, you know. It's Granger-Weasley." She blushed at his smile at the hyphenated name. "You know I couldn't give up the Granger. Besides, it still allows Snape to feel superior and call me Miss Granger whenever I visit either Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall."
"Well, Mrs. Hermione Granger-Weasley, to answer your questions," he smirked. "I Apparated, of course. Quickest way to travel, you know. And I was in India until yesterday. I had to come for some, uh, business." He glanced at the floor shiftily for a minute before continuing. "I've been absolutely fine. India's quite the place for fun. And the food's spectacular if you know where to go. Their wizarding community's really interesting. You'd like it there."
Hermione was immediately distracted by the thought of the Indian wizarding community. "Is it really quite interesting? I've read about it, you know. I've read all about the buildings and the schools and the--" she caught on to his ploy. She shook her finger at him like she would a naughty child. "Oh no, you don't, Harry. You're trying to get me off topic. I want to know why you're back in England and didn't send us any prior notice. We haven't seen you since..." She trailed off as she remembered.
The last time that anyone save Dumbledore had seen Harry was nearly a year ago, right after he'd defeated Voldemort. It was at the funeral service for all those who had died protecting Hogwarts from the attack in early June: Professor Flitwick, Dean Thomas, Susan Bones, Mad-Eye Moody, Orla Quirke, Colin Creevey, Morag McDougal, Zacharias Smith, Ernie MacMillan, Hagrid, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Professor Sinistra, Madam Pince, and numerous others that Hermione hadn't known by name. But the biggest blow to her, Harry, and especially Ron, had been the numerous Weasleys lost. Arthur had been killed by the Death Eater Nott at the beginning of the battle as he was defending the gates. Charlie fell to MacNair near the Forbidden Forest. George was killed in the Great Hall, along with Bill, while keeping the Death Eaters from reaching Dumbledore, Harry, and Voldemort as they fought their Last Battle. Fred, Molly, and Percy were not killed but were grievously injured when one of the staircases had crumbled with them on it, along with their Death Eater opponents. Ginny, the youngest and perhaps most precious of the Weasleys fell to Voldemort himself as she blocked a killing curse meant for Harry Potter. Hermione could remember seeing the girl caught up in a flash of brilliant neon green, the terror in her eyes so fierce, along with the love she felt for the man she protected. As Ginny's crumpled form fell to the ground Hermione heard the cry of dismay, disbelief, and grief from her dear friend. She herself was too busy fighting beside Ron against half a dozen Death Eaters to be of any help. Still, she knew that Harry was hurting and that he probably would not have beaten Voldemort if it hadn't been for the anger and guilt and agony he felt at the death of his beloved Ginny. After the service, he'd disappeared for months without a word. They didn't receive a letter until nearly December. And now, here he was and she had to bring up bad memories.
She looked up at him with sincerity. "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean--" He held up a hand.
"No worries, Hermione," he said with a strained smile. "It's all over and done with now." She glanced at Ron who looked pale and grim. She mouthed him an apology as well, but he didn't seem to see her. "Besides," Harry continued, "I came here to tell you good news, news that should make you happy."
Hermione turned hopeful eyes back to her friend. "Really, Harry? What is it?"
He grinned and opened his arms in a wide shrug. "I'm married!"
Hermione, expecting many things, was not expecting this. "Married?" she managed to get out through her shock. "To who?"
He shrugged again, a sheepish smile on his face. "Hannah Abbot," he answered quietly.
She stared at him. "You married Hannah Abbot?" He nodded. "Oh, oh my goodness. Wh--When did you--I mean, why did you--? Oh, Harry, you married Hannah Abbot!"
Harry laughed at her. "Yeah. I met her again in India. Seems like she was supposed to marry Ernie MacMillan, but when he died, she went and pulled the same number I did. She went off to India to, I dunno, escape, I guess, and I met her. We've been friends for a while and we decided that we ought to come back here. You know, face the past and all that. We came to Dumbledore and he welcomed us back pretty well, I suppose. We were still talking with him about the whole Battle when an owl came in. This was yesterday morning. It was telling Dumbledore about that stupid law banning Muggleborns from the wizarding world unless they were married or had children. Well, Hannah's a Muggleborn* and she didn't want to go back to the Muggle world, I didn't want her to go back to the Muggle world, and since she doesn't have any children, we took the only other solution. Dumbledore married us right then and there. It was simple, really."
Hermione's brain took a minute to catch up with her friend's words. "I can't believe it Harry!" she squealed after she got all the information registered. "You're married!" She hugged him tightly and released him suddenly. "But you're so young, Harry. You're only 18!"
He laughed at her. "Yeah, I'm only 18, but you and Ron over here," he jerked his thumb at the lanky red-head, "You guys were only 17. And still in school." She blushed.
"Yeah, well, you know very well why we married when we did, Harry Potter," she answered hotly. "The threat became more dangerous at that time and we decided not to wait. And you agreed wholeheartedly too."
Harry laughed again and hugged her. "And I still do, too." Hermione pushed him away teasingly and smiled at him.
Just as she opened her mouth to ask him more questions, the door to their flat was pushed open roughly. A very worried and dirty looking Remus Lupin banged in. "Ron, Harry!" he panted. "Dumbledore's sent me. A gathering-- of Death Eaters--in Surrey. Told me to--get help. He needs us--as fast as possible."
The feeling in the room had changed as swiftly as it had when Harry returned to meet with the young pair of Weasleys. The faces of Hermione's husband and friend turned from happy and carefree to grim and set. She knew that they would leave and she'd be left behind. She would undoubtedly be able to help them immensely, but she wouldn't be able to go due to Ron. He always made sure that she stayed home. He didn't want her to get into danger; he didn't want her to get hurt. It was the same story every time and every time Hermione ended up sitting at home fretting about what might be happening to the people she loved best. It was very frustrating.
Ron hurried into the bedroom and a second later appeared wearing a pair of Muggle jeans and a heavy jumper. He hurried over to his wife as he tried to snap the clasp of his robe. She did it for him and kissed him soundly on the mouth.
"Be safe," she whispered to him, holding him close for a moment while Harry and Remus pressured them on.
"I will," he promised. With one last kiss and a swift embrace he and his companions were gone, leaving Hermione with wringing hands to wonder and worry.
~`~`~`~`~ Well, that's the first chapter. Please tell me what you think!
* I don't remember it ever saying in the books whether Hannah was a Muggleborn or not, so I made her one for story purposes. Correct me if she isn't. I'll try to think of another name to change it to.