Hello everyone!

So, it's been a while since I updated. Thanks for all sticking with me. Anyway, this is chapter four of my idea of the aftermath of the war. I hope you like it, and I want to tell you all that I'm still looking for ideas on the monument. I have one in my mind, but I'm willing to add cool touches to it. (Of course, any idea you have will be credited to you.)

Thanks to all my reviewers! Thank you to DukeBrymin, Snape1918, , Ang922, missivypotter, UndercoverHufflepuff, SiriusObsession, PottedLilies, and LemonLime165. Thank you so much!

And thank you to everyone who added me to their favorites/alerts lists!

Oh, and let me say that there was a scene between McGonagall and Harry in the last chapter (and one in this chapter as well) that might be easier to understand if you read my oneshot called The Potter Inheritance. It's from McGonagall's point of view, and I think it will probably clarify what it is that's going through her head when she talks to Harry.

I hope you like it!

*****hhhhhhhh

"I don't know, Gin," He started again, sweeping my hair behind my ear and then blushing slightly. Bloody idiot. We've snogged the living daylights out of each other but he still blushes when he touches my hair.

"I don't know either, but I know you can't let the two of them go off without having some way to keep in touch."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it," he admitted, laying back onto his bed. I snuggled up beside him.

Huh. He isn't blushing now.

Bloody confusing boyfriends. You never know what they're thinking.

"What have you come up with, then?"

"Well, I reckon I could always apparate over there, although I wouldn't know where they were—"

"True, so that doesn't quite work."

"Then there's always the floo network, but still, I wouldn't know where they were exactly, in order to get to them."

I nodded. "Also true. Have you thought of using a telephone?"

He looked at me, surprised. "You know what a telephone is?"

I rolled my eyes. "Harry, I'm officially a seventh year. I know what a telephone is. In fact, I can guarantee you that Ron only calls it a felly-tone to annoy Hermione."

Harry smirked. "It works."

I slapped his shoulder playfully.

"What?" He said, feigning innocence.

I just rolled my eyes again and changed the subject back to important things. "Use a felly-tone," I told him sarcastically. "Do you know, I actually saw a couple of muggles walking around with them the other day?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Well, I mean, I thought they were telephones, but I suppose I could be wrong. They may have been talking into plastic simply because they were off their rockers."

He grinned widely. "Most muggles are, you know."

I rolled my eyes again.

"If you keep doing that, your eyes will actually fall out."

I rolled them again just to bait him, but he only grinned wider and shook his head.

"Oh no," he said quietly, gently pressing my eyes closed, "I quite like your eyes where they are, I'm afraid I can't let you roll them anymore."

I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips.

Well, it's not my fault. When Harry is uncharacteristically suave, I become uncharacteristically girly.

His lips brushed against my lids and I caught my breath, just waiting. I felt his mouth trail across my cheeks, leaving light kisses as he went, before he finally, finally, made it to my mouth. I kissed him back for all I was worth, and was warm all over when he responded the same way.

He pulled away rather suddenly, looking guiltily at the door and sitting up in the bed. "Sorry," he murmured, "I just realized that anyone could walk in."

I rolled my eyes again. "Would it really bother you to be caught?"

"You're not for display, Gin," he told me seriously, cupping my cheek. "And anyways, what if it was your brothers?"

"I'm pretty sure you have enough experience to handle my brothers."

"Maybe, but I wouldn't mess with anyone who was trying to protect you."

I snuggled back into him because I wasn't sure what to say to that. And really, it took me a moment to understand what it was that he said. Basically, he loved anyone who loved me, which was easy enough to accept. This was Harry, after all.

But I wasn't for display.

That was something new. I was always for display. Well, at least with Michael and Dean I had always been on display.

I suppose I don't really know what to think of that one.

*****hhhhhhhhh

"Good morning, Professor," I said, knocking on her open door. I readjusted my scrolls of parchment just as she looked up.

"Harry, come in," she answered with a slight frown on her face.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, no," she assured me as I took a seat, "Nothing of consequence."

"Okay." I answered slowly, almost in question. She shook her head.

"Harry, although I am quite accustomed to you calling me Professor, and it does pain me slightly to think that another generation of my students has grown, I must insist that you call me Minerva."

"Professor?"

"Minerva, Harry," she emphasized. "I simply cannot justify your calling me by titles any longer."

I was gobsmacked. I wasn't expecting that, and, I mean, she's always been Professor McGonagall.

"Are you sure?" I asked hesitantly avoiding the use of her name altogether.

"I must insist."

"Well, um, I have a few drawings, Pr-Minerva," I stuttered slightly, shoving my arms out to show her my scrolls. Hermione and I had spent hours listing ideas and sketching the more promising ones. I only hoped McGonagall would like some of them.

"What are these, Harry?"

"Ideas, Pr-Minerva," I told her, "For, er, the monument?"

"Ah, yes, well, let's a take a look then."

*****hhhhhhhhhhh

Three hours later, we had decided on a monument that combined a few of the elements that we came up with yesterday. I was sent to survey the work being done on the grounds to see what supplies we had, and Ron decided to come with me.

"So, bricks, then?" He asked, scratching his neck as we made our way out of the great front doors.

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. Ginny's getting to me. "Yeah, Ron, but we'll probably have to order those from the goblins since the ones McGonagall already ordered will all be used up in other places. We need to check for things like how much paint we have, and we'll have to find someone who is particularly handy with their wand—"

"Hermione would be able to do a good job on that," he cut in.

I shook my head. "She'd be fantastic but she'll be in Australia."

"Can't you wait until we get back?"

"The Astronomy Tower needs to be rebuilt in time for September first," I reminded him.

"Right, right," he mumbled, clearly lost in thought. "Well, I'm sure she won't want to postpone the trip. Flitwick could always do it, I mean, I imagine that it's a charm, isn't it?"

"Reckon it is. But I doubt he would have the time—"

"I'm sure he would make the time. It's the memorial we're talking about."

I nodded. "You're probably right. And he would know how to do it right, for sure."

We had gone around the largest cornerstone by this point, opening to the expanse of the castle and grounds that was visible from Gryffindor Tower. A floating scroll the size of a Great Hall table was shimmering in the sun, displaying both a blueprint and a finished photograph of Hogwarts Castle. And there were people everywhere working on setting bricks. I dodged a brick as it levitated into the air right in front of me before landing on the wall with a rather loud splatt.

"Oh, sorry, Harry," Luna said in her dreamy voice. "I didn't see you there."

"Well, that might be because of the glasses you've got o—" I elbowed Ron in the ribs before he could finish his sentence. But I couldn't help asking myself.

"Erm, Luna, why do you have those glasses on? I thought they were for wrackspurts?"

"Oh, I'm making sure that none of them get into the walls. It's a little known fact about wrackspurts, that they can eat mortar."

"Hmm," Ron said in interest—or else doing a very good job of feigning interest—"And how did you find that out?"

"All the ancient castles have wrackspurts in them," she informed him good naturedly as she turned back to her pile of bricks. "That's why they're crumbling. Of course, that would mean that Hogwarts won't crumble for at least five hundred years, but it's still important. Sadly, Professor McGonagall wouldn't listen when I told her that everyone should check for wrackspurts as they were laying their bricks."

"Well, I'm sure she has ways of protecting Hogwarts from wrackspurts," Ron reassured her, "After all, it stood for a thousand years before we came along."

"Hmm…" she murmured, dropping another brick into place with a splat, "I suppose you're right, Ron."

"Right," I said, amused but in a slight hurry, "well, we have to take a quick inventory, but we'll see you later Luna."

"Bye, then," she called dreamily, already turning her concentration fully to her work.

"Amusing, isn't she?" Ron muttered to me quietly as we walked away, "Completely bonkers, but amusing."
I smiled and shook my head just as I spotted a bunch of paints. "Yeah, she's amusing alright. Let's go look at those paints."

We hurried over to the colors, checking to see what they were and how much was left. There were only a few good cans, and I could see that their original owners still needed them. Hagrid was using copious amounts of red to paint his chicken coop—painting lots of the surrounding grass in the process—and he had Seamus, Dean, and Parvati painting the fence in the traditional white.

So no luck there. We'll have to order our own paints.

"Hey Harry," Ron said, nudging me in the side.

"Yeah?"

"Why don't we have Luna do it?"

"Do what? Luna's busy right now."

"Well, yeah, but I mean, later. Why don't we have Luna paint?"

I stopped. "That's a brilliant idea."

"So…should we go ask her what colors she wants, then?"

"Yeah," I said, clapping his shoulder as I turned back around. "Fantastic idea, Ron. She'll be perfect for this."

*****hhhhhhhhhh

"Ginny! We've done nothing of the sort!"

I smirked. "Obviously. You couldn't possibly be trying to cover anything up."

She sputtered, turning red in the face as her fists clenched. "Well, I, I mean, that is to say, I'M OLDER THAN YOU, DAMMIT!"

I couldn't help my laugh. "You're not older than Harry."

She started sputtering again.

"So, how are you and Ron doing?"

She flushed a bit deeper before she said, "We're doing just fine. I mean, that is to say, we, er, he has officially asked me to be his girlfriend…"

"Really?" I squealed. I couldn't help it. I've been waiting for them to get together almost as long as I waited to get together with Harry. "When?"

She was still flushing. "Last week, the day after, I mean, it was all around awkward, of course, but it was a bit sweet, I suppose—"

"Hermione! Stop bumbling and tell me what happened."

She took a deep breath. "Well, we were waiting for breakfast to show up in the Great Hall, and we were sitting together—"

"Where was I?" I interrupted. I didn't remember any of this.

"I haven't a clue."

"A bit preoccupied, were you?" I teased knowingly.

She flushed again. Merlin, I didn't think that people could blush and then blush again so quickly. "Well, yes," she admitted. I couldn't help smirking as her words came out progressively quicker and more jumbled. "But, as I was saying, we were waiting for breakfast and he sort of got this funny look on his face and then started talking about how I was a 'bloody good snog' as he called it, and then he asked me to be his girlfriend. Officially."

I giggled. "Wow. I don't know how you resist my brother's charm."

She looked down, giggling herself. "Well, I suppose his charm is that he is utterly uncharming, even when he tries to be."

I shook my head. "Only a woman truly in love would say that."

She pretended to be offended. "Oh, and I suppose Harry has all the charm of a prince?"
I smiled, thinking back on that morning. "He has his moments."

"I'll take your word for it," she said hastily.

I rolled my eyes. I mean, Ron is actually my brother, but I don't get squeamish about the fact that he's dating someone. "Well then how are the preparations for your trip coming along?"

"Everything is set," she told me, consulting an appointment book that she usually used for study scheduling. "I haven't the slightest clue where they are, but the Kingsley's assistant was assigned to help us out with the legal aspects of the trip. We've already contacted the Australian ministry and they have someone already working on the legal issues on their end." She took a deep breath and sighed. "At least I won't have to worry about things like passports and papers when I'm trying to get them back here."

I nodded along sympathetically. "I'm sure it will all work out, Hermione—"

"I'm just not sure that I shouldn't leave them there," she cut in, flustered again. "I think it would probably be a simpler life for them to just stay there…away from all the crazy things going on here, anyway."

"People have crazy lives. They learn to live with it. And I've met your Mum and Dad. They're proud of you and they would want to be back here, knowing what their daughter did and being proud of it."

When she looked at me again I noticed some unshed tears. "They won't be upset with all the trouble I've caused?"

I almost laughed, but wrapped her in a hug instead. "No, love, they won't be upset about anything."

*****hhhhhhhhhhhh

"Have you got everything packed?" I asked, eyeing the same small handbag that we camped from this past year.

"Yes," Hermione assured me, dropping one last bottle of dittany into the bag and then charming it to be feather light. "I can't imagine that we'd need all of this, really, but just to be sure that we're not wanting—"

"Hermione!" Ron's voice called from up the stairs, "I can't find my sneakers!"

"I've got hem packed already, Ron," she called back up the stairs before sinking slowly into the couch. She sighed before murmuring, "Oh, I'm going to miss these couches once we go."

"Um, I'm not completely certain, but I reckon they have couches in Australia."

"Yes, but these are Hogwarts couches. All poufy and warm and by the roaring fire."

I smiled. "I think they have fires in Australia, too. Although I hear it is a bit warm there to begin with—"

"Oh, it will be winter there. The seasons are inverted south of the equator."

"Right," I said, grinning. It was nice to have the old Hermione back. You know, the one who knew absolutely everything and always knew what to do. I really missed that during the last year.

"Well, I suppose it might still be a tad warmer than our winters are," she admitted, "They do have that wearing hats campaign that the muggle government has been endorsing…"

I let her get lost in her world of little worries. She was allowed to worry about little things now.

"Hermione!" Ron called, bounding down the stairs. I resisted the urge to remind him that it was the crack of dawn and he might wake people. "Hermione, I'm ready to go!"

"Shhh!" She reprimanded as she pushed herself off of the couch. "You'll wake the whole castle screaming like that!"

I resisted the urge to remind her that it was the crack of dawn and she might wake people.

"Anyways," she said, pulling her bag toward her and then taking Ron's hand, "It's time to go. We'll be arriving at the ministry in Sydney, and they've got the same time, so we should have the whole day ahead of us—"

"They've got the same time?" Ron asked, confused, "But I thought we would be getting there with some extra time? You know, to go back to sleep?"

Hermione looked irked. "You can go back to sleep right now, Ron, you don't have to co—"

"No, no!" He hurried to say, "I want to come, I just thought that we had different time zones, that's all."

"Right, well," she answered, looking slightly mollified, "We should head down to the grounds then, because we can't apparate inside the castle…"

The walk down to the grounds was peacefully quiet, and I enjoyed it much more than I normally would. I think I've finally gotten used to the idea that no one is going to jump out from behind a corner and try to murder me.

Kind of odd that I have to get used to that idea, now that I think about it.

When we finally made it past the gate, Hermione turned and we all stopped.

"Alright," she murmured quietly, casting her gaze about to avoid our eyes, "Should we go together, then?"

"Yeah," Ron said, firmly taking her hand. "On three?"

She nodded. "One…two…"

And then they were gone.

I looked at the spot where they last stood for a moment, smiling to myself. When they came back, Hermione would have her family again.

And that's what the whole fight was for. Bringing families back together.

I can only hope she doesn't burden them with tales of how we won this, though.

*****hhhhhhhhhhh

I hope you liked it! Please review!