Albus Dumbledore arrived in a flurry of periwinkle robes and lemon scented breath before he leaned over the table to assess Hermione. His once curious blue twinkle in his eyes was hard and he actually looked... concerned. Hermione barely knew the man - Harry always was the one to go to the Headmaster's office and have long chats with him, now moreso than later. "Miss Granger, I need you to tell me if you've been sexually active-"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Hermione blushed furiously. Sexually active? How could that affect her magic like this? It didn't. Magic was only altered by pregnancy, and even then, not to the extent it had altered Hermione. She lifted her hand, but the gold was gone now - now that Harry was here. Did Harry have anything to do with this? Harry's fingers tighened on Hermione's own. The Headmaster's gaze flickered towards Hary, before he seemed to get his answer. "Sir, I've never read anything like this before. The magic-"

"Is the same magic performed every day in the Wizarding World, Miss Granger," the Headmaster stated simply, as though she should know this as well. But Hermione's mind raced as she tried to think of something - any sort of explanation. She stiffened slightly as he raised his wand and flicked it, but the spell had no visible affect on her. However, the Headmaster made a small noise before turning to Severus and seemingly having a conversation with their eyes.

"Sir, what's going on?" Harry asked.

"That is something that... have you left the grounds at all?" Dumbledore asked. His tone was hard, and he stared at Harry.

"No! Sir, I haven't-"

"Miss Granger?"

"No," Hermione insisted, desperately. "What's going on? What's wrong with my magic?" She felt fear bubbling in her throat. Was she losing her magic? She couldn't! The Dark Lord needed her - she needed to help Draco. She couldn't lose her magic! Simply enough.

"Miss Granger, your," he paused, clearing his throat, "activities with Mister Potter have ignited a ... a magicial rite. I am unsure how, but the results are simple enough-"

"Results?" Hermione protested. "What results?" She glanced at Harry, confused. He didn't seem to know what was going on either. She supposed that was a good sign? It meant he didn't know anything about her father... he didn't know, so he couldn't have done anything to her. She hated the thought, but she had been paranoid for the past few months and this was simply ... well, it was her letting her shield drop and Harry being there to comfort her without him knowing much about why.

"Why, you two have completed a marriage bond."

Hermione choked on air. "What? This has got to be some mistake, professor-"

"I assure you," Dumbledore said calmly. "It is no mistake."

"But, sir, that's- we didn't get married!" Harry insisted.

"Why wouldn't this have happened before?" Hermione insisted. "With any other guy or girl we've been with, then? I've been in the Room of Requirement before, and excuse me for being crass, Professor, but we weren't suddenly married after we had sex! So what makes this so different?"

"Parental consent," Dumbledore said simply. "On the woman's side. Hermione, your father likes Harry, does he not?"

But he knew who her father-oh. "Yes, he does have an interest in Harry," Hermione admitted. "But why would-"

"When a wizard asks for a witch's hand, it is asked of her father if he approves of the man. Not approves, per say, but would be interested in having him in the home." Wants Harry close enough to Hermione so that she could bring him to his slaughter. "It's a simple statement. And it could have happened with anyone-"

"But my parents like Ron," Hermione insisted. "I mean, they wanted me to be with Ron and-"

"They must not like Ron as much as Harry, then," Dumbledore explained calmly, but Hermione understood. "The rights to marriage goes to the suitor they take the most interest in."

Hermione rubbed her temple with her free hand. "So Harry and I are married and we have to hold hands all the time or... my magic starts to leave my body like some bloody perfume?"

"I understand you're upset-"

"I'm seventeen! I shouldn't be married! No offense, Harry, you're a great person, but I don't want to be married to anyone." No one would want to be married to her. "I probably won't even survive this war, let alone survive a marriage!" Hermione had somehow risen during her speech and she was on the verge of tears.

"I suggest you tell him, Hermione," Dumbledore said after a moment of silence.

"Tell me what?" Harry asked, confused. It had been the first time he spoke in a long time, Hermione noticed. He sounded suspicious.

"I've been working for the Order," Hermione said simply, giving a look to Dumbledore that clearly said she couldn't tell Harry everything now. "I'm Blaise's Arithmancy partner, and he passes information to me from other Slytherins... He's a neutral party in the war, but he does hear things. Like the Death Eaters residing in Malfoy Manor-"

"We already knew that-"

"Are more likely to be the Inner Circle, instead of the random people. If that's the case," Hermione swallowed and sat back down quietly. "Then infiltrating Malfoy Manor will be tedious and could amount to a great loss of life on our side."

"That's why you have a floor plan of Malfoy Manor in your bag?"

Hermione let out a breath. "Yes." She cleared her throat as Harry seemed to process this. She couldn't tell him. Not yet. Maybe not ever. "Professor, how do I make my magic stop leaving like it has been?" she asked, staring at her free hand. "There's got to be some way rather than being together all the time. I don't have some classes with him and-I'd-" She glanced at Harry. "I'd like to keep this a secret for as long as possible."

He seemed to agree. "Voldemort can use you against me and he could potentially hurt you to get to me." He had no idea and it tore her apart. "No one can find out about this until he's gone."

She nodded in agreement, glancing back at the two professors. Snape, who seemed stoic, and Dumbledore, who was more resigned to the fates of the two pupils in front of him. "The only way to prevent the golden aura from becoming visible is to consumate your marriage, and to wear a pair of rings." Hermione noticed he looked visibly flustered. He selected a quill from Hermione's bag. "May I?"

She nodded, unsure what he was about to do. She was about to protest when he broke the quill in two. "I thought you were going to use it, not-" Her words died in her throat as he waved his wand to transfigure them. The two broken pieces of the feather curled up and end touched end as they formed two golden rings. They clambered on the potions table and she saw Snape stiffen as he stood straighter.

"Albus, you do realize that if they wear matching rings, people will be bound to notice," Severus stated. "The Dark Lord will notice. There are spies everywhere that are watching the both of them-"

Hermione reached for one with her free hand and held it carefully. "He's right, sir. Someone will notice."

"Glamours to cover them, I think. Or to disguise them as something else." The headmaster gestured for them to put them on and Hermione slid hers on her finger after letting go of Harry's hand for only a few seconds. Immediately the gold light began to leave her, once more. She gasped in fear and clutched Harry's hand immediately.

"Sir, what happens if I'm away from Harry and that light occurs? What would happen if we didn't... consumate this?"

"You would die, Miss Granger," Snape said simply. "Or should I say Mrs. Potter?"

She blanched. "Why doesn't his magic do that, then? Why is it just me?"

"It is your magic trying to mingle with his," Albus said calmly. "Usually, given the fact that this is a wizard bond, there are extensive discussions on the matter given from a parental figure to one or the other - Molly Weasley, for example. But I fear that it's a bit too late for that."

"Just a bit, sir," Hermione agreed mutely. Merlin's beard. Married? Her father was going to kill her or praise her... either way it'd be unbearable. He couldn't know. That was simple. Very simple. She met Dumbledore's eyes and his own held... pity? Maybe even regret. She glanced away quickly, knowing he wanted her to tell Harry. Knowing he wanted her to speak the truth. "How long until my magic kills me, sir?"

Dumbledore contemplated the question, but it was Snape who answered. "You've already spent the eight hours that would normally be considered the time limit sleeping or doing other activities." His black eyes darted between Hermione and Harry in disdain. "I'd say four more hours until Miss Granger is unable to function past that of a blithering infant."

So that wasn't that short of time, then. Her and Harry could have sex in four hours with plenty of time to spare - it was just the matter of getting in the mood. She couldn't exactly have sex on command.

"I think it best you be allowed to skip your classes this evening," Dumbledore said after a moment. "Potions and Transfiguration, correct?"

"Arithmancy for me as well, sir," Hermione stated quietly.

"Right, then, off you go! I expect to see you for dinner."

"Yes, sir," Hermione nodded. She grabbed her bag, sliding it over her shoulder. She knew when she was dismissed. Glancing at Harry, he gave a small nod and they walked through the door, hand in hand. Once it shut behind them, she bit her lip. "I'm sorry... This is all my fault-"

"Not really," Harry shrugged. "Bloody hell, I didn't even think I'd survive the war to get married."

"Neither did I," Hermione admitted. She led them through the back staircase in order to climb the stairs. "I'm really sorry though. I shouldn't have... propositioned you like that. God, that makes it sound like I'm some evil wench or something-"

"Ron and Ginny are going to go ballistic."

The bookworm groaned, knowing it was going to be just that. "I don't know what to offer for that situation... If we keep it a secret, I mean, we'd have to - we need to - then they'd still try to make amends on relationships, in Ron's case, or try to get in a relationship, in Ginny's case."

"And we shouldn't let them...?" Harry asked, making sure he was going in the right direction in the conversation.

Hermione hesitated and waited until they were outside the Room of Requirement before stating quite plainly, albiet, a bit hesitantly. "No, I think ... maybe, if that's alright, we should. But not to the extent we... have sex with them. That would violate the charms a, uh, bonded couple has - fidelity charms. It results in excruciating pain if you try."

"So you do know a bit about this then?" Harry asked, holding the door open for her, though they were still connected.

Hermione set her bag down on the couch much like last night's and sighed. "Sort of. I know about fidelity charms, a few extra things - like we're sort of connected. If you die, I'll know immediately. Where, when, how, who - everything. I'll feel it too. Same as if I were to die. And we have to... renew the - well, to put it bluntly we have to have sex every week. So on the course we're on now, every Friday or so."

"And if we don't?" Harry asked.

She hesitated. "Well, we weaken. We're strongest, technically, right after we have sex. And we gradually weaken until we have sex again. So essentially, after a week, we'd be weaker and our magic would weaken... And eventually you and I would become - well, this is all in theory, of course - Muggles. No magic at all. But that could be months and months, not just weekly."

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered. "So not just winter break, but summer break, too."

Oh, she hadn't thought of that. "I'm really sorry, Harry. I had no idea. I thought it couldn't happen this way. Nothing I've ever read said it could happen this way! And now just one night of getting you drunk so we could both relax and forget about the war has made everything ten times harder!" She sighed and shook her head. "We can't... we can't have people suspicious, agreed?"

"We need to act like nothing happened," Harry nodded. They were standing still, in the middle of the Room of Requirement, and the air was unbelievably awkward. "I would suggest alcohol, but I have a feeling we need to go to dinner, so-"

"What is our cover story?" Hermione asked, collapsing down on the sofa closest to her. Harry sat beside her. "You know Ginny and Ron will ask where we both went."

"Family emergency?"

"No, that wouldn't work. You could claim that you went to the Room of Requirement, or lessons with Dumbledore...?"

"And you?"

Hermione didn't know. She didn't have anything to claim. "You needed my help? Or... or maybe Order business? I could claim Order business!" She cried so loudly, Harry winced. She glanced at their clasped hands. "I was researching something for the Order and Dumbledore gave me leave for the day. And you-"

"I was helping you because-"

"Because it involved the prophecy and we had to figure out if there were alternative means for the wording. We were in the Room of Requirement, studying books that had been thrown in here, all night, because we were intercepted and brought to Dumbledore's office after we left, and they were advanced books and I needed an extra pair of eyes, because there was no way I could possibly go through them all by dinner. So you helped me cut down the time, and-"

"What are we looking for?"

"Like, if something in a prophecy can mean two different things. Like power he knows not, could mean he has a power he doesn't know about that kills him, or you have a power that no one knows about. He isn't very defined, but it's implied its a power the Dark Lord doesn't know about." Harry agreed with a small nod. "So if anyone asks, that's what we found. I've already told Dumbledore that bit of info anyway, so it's not like it would be news to him."

"How much Order research do you do?"

Hermione hesitated. "A lot more than you would expect, or have suspected, I think."

"And you can't tell me?"

"Not now," Hermione said quietly. "I will, though, Christmas break. I promise that. I just... I want the last week and a half of term to be normal."

"And it won't if you told me? Is it that bad?"

She didn't know how to answer that. "This is going to be awkward, isn't it?"

He knew what she was referring to and glanced down at their clasped hands. "It doesn't have to be if it's done right."