A million kudos and thanks to AlexandraO for beta reading today and to MykEsprit for reading this last night and giving me her opinion. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter, and will tell me what you think at the bottom.

Hermione saw Harry every day usually. It wasn't out of the norm. From working in the Ministry to Sunday dinners at the Burrow, she realised now that she hadn't gone a day without seeing him in years.

She tapped her ink pen against the parchment as she sat curled up in the corner of her couch. Dwelling on the fact that she always saw Harry wasn't helping her with the fact that he was away overnight on an auror mission. She wasn't clingy, she swore to herself, but it was rather jarring to realise how much she missed his presence.

Crookshanks laid across her feet, nipping at her fuzzy socks as he did so. "Stop that," Hermione grumbled, reaching down to bat him away. It didn't work in the least. A cry tumbled from her lips as the half kneazle ran his paw over the moving unicorns woven into the fabric, and sunk a claw in as if to capture the creature. "Crooks!"

His head snapped up, his eyes widening as he tilted his head to the side. For a long moment, Crookshanks stared at her until the unicorns began to move again and he lunged for them.

Hermione hissed under her breath and slid her socks off, leaving the worn pair to her familiar who was getting more entertainment out of them than she had or ever would.

Her floo crackled to life, and she cast a surprised look across the living room. Her eyes widened as heavy boots sounded against the floorboards, and soot was knocked loose from the chimney. He slid a hand through his tousled hair and beamed at her.

"I'm back early."

She stood dumbfounded for a moment, her hands clutching the book in her hands as she took him in. Lately, over the past few weeks, she'd noticed a familiar emotion bubbling up within her any time Harry set off with the Aurors. She didn't feel as worried as she did during the war. But still a bit distressed, nonetheless.

"Hermione?" he asked again. Harry's smile slipped as she gave no reaction at all. "If you were hoping for a quiet evening alone, I can —"

He'd been pointing behind his back, half turned back toward the floo when she slammed into him. Hermione cupped his face, peppering his cheeks with kisses as he caught her. "Merlin, I didn't realise how much I would miss you."

Harry chuckled, arms tightening around her waist before he picked her up and spun her. "Well, if this is the reaction I'll get every time, I'll leave more often."

She glared at him. "Don't you dare."

"Did you have dinner plans?" Harry hadn't set her down, but instead carried her into her kitchen and set her on the counter. He was standing in between her thighs, wrapping a stray piece of hair around his finger. "Have you eaten today?"

She shook her head.

"Why not?" he frowned, taking a closer look at her. "You don't even look like you've slept."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "I slept for three hours this morning," she said weakly.

His eyes shot open. "Three hours?" Harry echoed. "Why?"

"After the late dinner we had last night, I went back to my office. There's resistance from the Wizengamot regarding the laws we're attempting to pass for Werewolf Rights, and I was drafting a counter-argument."

He nodded. "I understand how important this is to you, but even if you're exhausted, it doesn't take you all night to do that."

She swallowed, a sheepish look crossing her face. "You misunderstand," she murmured, her finger circling the dirtied bronze button on his uniform. "I drafted several counter-arguments, one for each objection they might have, and some they're quite unlikely to have."

He leaned over her, his body shaking with silent laughter. "I'm not —" he wheezed. "I'm not even surprised."

Hermione muffled her giggle with the back of her hand. "I'm confident it will pass, or at the very least, sway some members to our side. Are you hungry?"

"Famished," he replied. "You should sleep though. I can pick up takeaway and make my way home. You look like you're about to drop."

She chewed her lip. "I'd like to have dinner if you're not opposed."

"Not opposed?" he asked, the tip of his finger skirting her jawline. "You're oddly formal when you're nervous."

"I'm not nervous," Hermione argued, looking away from him.

He snorted. "You're a terrible liar. I'm not opposed to dinner."

A scowl twisted her features. "You're mocking me."

"Am I really? Quick deduction, Miss Granger. Fifty points to Gryffindor," Harry murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Her nose crinkled as she fought off a smile. "That's a lot of points to award for something so simple," Hermione pointed out. She grasped his jacket in her hands, tugging him flush against her.

"It's because I fancy you." He shrugged. "Let me clean up, and we'll go. Do I still have a spare set of clothes here?"

Hermione nodded but called out as he walked around the corner. "Actually, wear the uniform."

Harry poked his head around the corner. "I knew you had a thing for my uniform." He grinned, giving salute as he disappeared.

"No." She shook her head, eyeing the broomstick in his hand with trepidation. "Fuck no," Hermione said again, her tone harsher as he tried to coax her onto it. "I loathe flying."

"I remember you mentioning that once," he said, holding out his hand. "'Mione, it will be fun."

The memory of getting on a broomstick with Ron was still fresh. While it wasn't his fault she'd fallen into a lake, it hadn't left her with the greatest confidence of leaving the ground ever again. "Why do you want to fly with me so badly? Harry, I could sit down here with a book while you fly. I'll still watch you."

He tilted her chin up after stepping closer. "I just want to show you why I enjoy it so much, and maybe it can be something you enjoy as well."

She doubted that. "I don't want to be anywhere but on the ground. Your seventeenth birthday and Gringotts don't apply, so don't even bring them up!" Hermione hurried to say as he opened his mouth.

"Well," he started, "It was meant to be a surprise, but since you must know. Neville recently got back from a trip where he was searching for new plants. As it turns out, there's a recently discovered plant near us, in fact, he was the one to make the discovery. Ron told him to name it the Longbottom."

"That's a terrible name," Hermione muttered.

He laughed. "Neville said the same thing, and also that it was pretentious. I thought you would find it interesting. A recent discovery and all. With it not being revealed yet, and you would be able to see it before most of the world, sounded like it was a perfect excuse to get you on a broom."

His attempts to coax her onto the broom were working. "Can't we apparate?"

"I haven't been there before, but I happen to an excellent flyer. You wouldn't fall, but even if you knocked yourself off the broom again, I would catch you."

Hermione looked up at the dark sky, taking in the vast expanse that was riddled with stars. "What does this plant do?"

He knew he had her by the way her eyes twinkled. "Technically, it's a flower. It has certain healing properties Neville believes may be able to help heal the minds of patients in the Janus Thickney ward."

She whirled around to face him. "His parents?" she whispered. "Does he believe they could make a full recovery?"

Harry nodded, his eyes no longer bright, but sombre "I asked him that. I was worried he was getting his hopes up, but he's confident in the prospect. He's spoken with Healers at St Mungo's and Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries."

She was nearly at a loss for words. The idea that Neville, sweet Neville, who had been her first friend at Hogwarts, could have his parents back. And then her face fell. "I would never think you were just telling me this to get me on a broom, but if he's sure, why hasn't he collected everything yet? I can't imagine he's not snatching every flower he can find."

Harry smiled. "I volunteered to grab this one. I want you to go with me, but I'm willing to grab it and come back for you."

Hermione shook her head furiously, sliding close to him. "I'd love to go. You won't let me fall?" she asked, her voice small as she slid onto the broom before him.

"Of course not," he murmured, brushing her hair from her shoulder and pressing a kiss to just below her ear.

Hermione understood why Harry had always loved flying. She supposed it was freeing, but the idea of knowing several hundred feet were between her and the ground terrified her. What made it better, however, was that he didn't use jerky movements. The ride was a steady incline as they rose into the sky, and her back was pressed flat against his chest. Occasionally, Harry would flatten his hand against her stomach, stroking the soft skin through her jumper. It was a short flight, only eight minutes, but her legs were jelly.

"Was that so bad?" he asked. Harry cast a summoning charm, a large clear container settling in his open palm.

"No," she replied, trailing after him as they ducked through the trees at the edge of the cliff. "I'm not sure I would do it often, but it was enjoyable."

He laughed. "We aren't flying back down. You don't have to pretend you loved it," Harry called over his shoulder.

"It was nice," Hermione told him, coming to peek right over his right shoulder. "A little terrifying still, but this was a much better experience than falling in the lake."

Harry snorted, laughing uncontrollably. "Yes, I would imagine so. This is it."

The flower itself was much smaller than the vegetation around it. Its petals were a royal blue, gold spreading throughout the middle and along the edges. Hermione knelt beside it, watching curiously as Harry carefully trimmed the roots before placing it in the box.

"I didn't think about how much he must trust me to allow me to collect this."

Hermione smiled. "Of course he trusts you. Are we meeting him now?"

"We're going to Apparate to St Mungo's. I'm almost positive he's still there, but otherwise, we'll leave it with the Head Healer." Harry handed her the container with a wide grin and vanished on the spot with a crack.

Hermione glanced down at the flower in her hands, struck silent by the hope that his might change the world as they knew it. A smile curved her lips as she apparated.

They wouldn't hear if the flower, which still went unnamed as Neville was pressured to decide on a name, had been successful in restoring the minds of patients who had been tortured for some time until much later. Neville thought it might be two months, but truly there was no measure of time that he was not willing to wait.

Ron was finally back from his honeymoon, with a pretty witch on his arm, and they were the talk of the Daily Prophet. So far Hermione had overheard Ron and Daphne's names no less than ten times throughout the workday. She'd never met the former Slytherin outside of an academic environment, and she wasn't sure what to expect.

So when Ron swung by her office to ask her if she would come on a triple date, she was hesitant.

He leaned against the door trim before waltzing inside and kicking the door shut behind him. Ron fell into the chair across from her with a wide grin plastered across his face. "I'm in love."

Hermione laughed. She stowed away her parchment and ink and rested her chin on her knuckles. "How is she?"

"She's nothing like I thought she would be." Ron began, waving his hands as he plunged into a lengthy story about how Daphne Greengrass — Weasley now — wasn't a stereotypical Slytherin. "Her father was livid when he learned of the match. His other daughter is marrying Malfoy."

Hermione nodded. "I saw that in the Prophet. I'm sure he's paying extra to keep Daphne's name out of the press if he's so ashamed. I'm happy to hear you're so happy, Ron. Tell me what she's like."

He looked like he'd been struck by a stray bludger. "Merlin, she's everything, 'Mione. You have to meet her."

She forced a smile. On the one hand, Hermione wanted to meet whoever could make Ron so happy immediately, and on the other hand, she was ashamed to admit she was concerning herself with house rivalries. "I'm sure I'll meet her on Sunday."

He grimaced. "Of course she'll be there, but Mum is sure to be loud with her opinions. I'd rather the two of you could meet before that, maybe she could have you on her side when Mum starts in? You know how she never listens to me."

Hermione sighed but nodded. When he put it that way, she could hardly say no. "You need to put your foot down when it comes to Molly. Your marriage should come first, especially if she makes you this happy. Did you have an idea for plans? Dinner maybe?"

"Funny you should ask. I took it up myself to make plans." Ron said, fiddling with the nameplate on her desk. "I already spoke to Harry earlier, but we're meeting at a pub. Ginny and Luna will be there."

At least there would be more familiar faces. "Sounds great," Hermione said. She sighed then, caving and asking, "Is she likely to have an issue with me? I'm worried about that, and you're my best friend. I'd like to be sure I can be friends with your wife as well."

He chuckled and reached across the desk to grab her hand. "She'll surprise you. Plus do you really think I would have married her if I thought she'd hate my best friends?"

"It was a law. You didn't really have a choice." Hermione said.

Ron threw his hands in the air as he stood. "If she was the sort to tear my friends down, I suppose it would have been the first forced marriage to end in murder. "

Her mouth fell open. "Ron!"

"I would have been the dead one. Daph is downright scary when she likes to be. I bet the two of you will hit it off."

Hermione wasn't sure what to make of that, whether it was an insult that she was intimidating, or not. "Daph?" she asked quietly, a smile twisting her lips. "That's cute. What does she call you?"

A wicked look crossed his face. "Nothing I can say in public."

Hermione groaned as she shook her head.

"Eight o'clock!" Ron called over his shoulder and made his way out of her office.

As she'd been promised, Daphne is nothing like one would expect. In fact, she really should have been in Gryffindor with the way she stood up in the pub and loudly stated that Ron Weasley was her husband and she'd greatly appreciate if bystanders would cease their staring.

Hermione had snorted into her glass, mistakenly inhaling her booze. Harry sat at her side, his tumbler half raised to his mouth.

"Tell us about your honeymoon," Hermione said politely.

Ginny snorted, halfway already on her way to being pissed. "Don't tell us about your honeymoon," she said. "I've already heard some things from Ron that no one ever needs to know."

Daphne grinned, knocking her shoulder against her husband's. "Oh, of course he did. Let me guess, he only mentioned the stories that made him sound good?" As Ron coughed into his sleeve at Daphne's side, Hermione realised the witch had Ron well pegged.

"Don't tell them about that," Ron muttered, his cheeks turning red.

"Oh," Ginny laughed. "I think she definitely should. Don't you think so, Luna?"

Luna had collectively drunk more than the lot of them, and she still wasn't showing it. "Please do," she replied as she wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders.

"On our second night in Mykonos, Ron and I drank a bit too much, and I asked him if he'd ever been skinny dipping. The answer was no."

Harry scoffed. "You told me you had!"

Ron's face grew even redder. "Alright, it was a lie."

Daphne seemed to have already heard this white lie of Ron's. "So the two of us went down to the beach. And we stripped right there on the pier before we dove in. What we weren't aware of was that police regularly patrol the shoreline. So we were arrested for indecent exposure and lewd acts in public. However," she paused to take a long drink of Ron's firewhisky, "Ron's clothes fell into the water, and he couldn't just summon them back to him due to the Muggles."

Harry spewed firewhisky, coughing as a deep crimson crept down Ron's neck.

Hermione had the decency to laugh behind her hand, her shoulders shaking as she leaned into Harry. "And then?" Hermione asked.

"The policeman was neither accommodating or amused, but he gave Ron his hat to cover his…" Daphne trailed off, raising her glass with a smug smirk before pecking her husband's cheek.

"Oh, Merlin, my sides hurt," Ginny gasped. She set her glass down on the table too roughly, the amber liquid sloshing onto the table. "Mum would have kittens," she sniggered.

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Mum doesn't need to know!"

Throughout the exchange, Luna was a bit quieter than normal, which came as a surprise. She silently sipped her drink, laughing with the rest of them.

Hermione poked Ginny's side, crooking her finger and whispering in her ear, "Is Luna okay?"

The redhead's face darkened, but she shook her head. "Not particularly. Mum hit a nerve earlier today when Luna visited for lunch. She was crass and decided to mention how we would never have children."

Hermione frowned. They had already solved all of that, and as far as Hermione knew, the Ministry had delivered the news to the couple. "But...haven't they told you about a surrogacy?" she whispered.

Harry was watching the two of them from over his glass.

Ginny nodded. In her lap, she was holding Luna's hand, slowly stroking her finger across her knuckles. "Normally she wouldn't be upset, you know? Luna has always bounced back, but Mum...she kept at it."

Luna offered a weak smile. "Wrackspurts are coming out of your ears, Hermione. You should have that looked at."

Under the haze of alcohol, Hermione lunged across Ginny and wrapped them both in a fierce hug. "Both of you listen to me — Ron, Daph," the nickname already sounded so familiar "this goes for you as well. If Molly Weasley says anything like that again, she'll be staring down my wand."

Ron roared with laughter, tipping back in his chair. "She's pissed now."

"Ron, you shouldn't do that," Daphne said just as his chair slipped beneath him and he flipped himself backwards. "Or do exactly that, okay." she laughed.

They were drawing attention to themselves, and Hermione was still sprawled across both girls.

"Up you go," Harry murmured, laughter heavy in his voice as he helped Hermione to her feet. "Will the two of you be able to make it home?"

Ginny nodded. "We'll use the public floo. I'm not sure those two are even going to make it out of the pub." She tilted her head toward her brother and his wife, who were quickly pawing at the other's clothes. "Maybe take that home, yeah?" Ginny yelled.

Ron was grinning like an idiot as Daphne wound her arms around his neck and swayed with him in the middle of the floor. There was no music, and Hermione heard the blonde tell Ron not to sing.

Ginny gagged. "They're so cute it makes me want to vomit. Bye Harry, Hermione." She kissed Hermione's cheek, pulling her close by her hip to whisper in her ear. "He's been head over heels in love with you has been for years. You should take him home and do something about that."

Hermione smiled. "Yeah, I'll be sure to do that." She led Harry from the pub. "Would you mind if we walked back to my flat?"

"Of course not. I wasn't going to leave you to get home alone anyway. It's a short walk." Harry murmured, tugging her into the curve of him. "Cold?"

Her shiver had nothing to do with the outside air. "Not at all." Hermione peeked up at him as they made their way down the sidewalk. "Will you stay tonight?"

Harry's lips parted. "Yes."

The walk to her flat was short, and they paused on the bridge overlooking the Thames. Hermione rested her hands on the stone ledge, gazing over the water. "I loved when you brought me for lunch here. You shouldn't have cast that charm, but it was the most romantic thing I've ever had happen to me." Her words were slurring together.

"Come here. You'll fall in if you lean too far."

She mumbled, "You'll catch me. You said that."

"I did."

"Good." Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I'm really drunk," she said flatly, laughter bubbling up in her chest. "Gods, have I ever laughed this much in my life? The last few weeks with you, I think they've been the best of my life. I'm not sure why it took a slightly crooked government to push us together."

His eyes were wide and bright behind his glasses. "I wanted you before. I told you that, but I suppose I never worked up the nerve. I was convinced you wouldn't be interested." Harry scratched the back of his neck despite having already told her all of this before.

She blinked, her brows drawing together. "Well, if that's not the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, I don't know what is." Hermione pressed her lips to his, her tongue darting out against his and she slumped against him. "Harry?"

"Mmm?" he murmured, his hands pressing to the small of her back. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure I can walk back to my flat. These shoes are awful."

Harry took one look at her heels and turned. "Climb on my back." He knelt down, helping her to be sure she didn't fall.

The walk to her flat was only a few minutes with him carrying her, and she rested her chin on his shoulder. "Harry? You're really fit," she whispered.

Below her grip, he was shaking. "You are fucking drunk."

She relaxed against him as he climbed the stairs to her flat. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't have drunk so much."

Once inside her flat, Harry carried her straight to the bedroom. He set her at the foot of her bed, sliding her heels off and tossing them across the room. "Give me a second — whoa!"

Hermione caught him by the edge of his jacket, yanking him onto the bed. She straddled his waist, kissing down his jaw as she unbuttoned his shirt. "Harry, please," she murmured before pressing her lips to his.

His fingers tangled in her hair as he rolled her onto her back, his fingers sliding down her side, brushing against the side of her breast. "Not while you're drunk."

She groaned. "Harry —"

He shook his head. "Not without a Sober Up potion, 'Mione. If I'm going to sleep with you for the first time again, it won't be while we're drunk off our arses."

"I'm not drunk," she insisted. "Alright, I'm drunk. Stop laughing." Hermione crawled out from under him, rifling through the drawers beside her bed.

She was out of Sober Up potion.

Fuck.

"I could get some, I'm sure," she muttered.

Harry tugged her backwards into the bed, pulling the blanket over them. "Shh, just get some sleep tonight."

She didn't like the sound of that, but she was hardly in a position to complain. Hermione snuggled into his side, grinning to herself when his head rested on top of hers. Harry pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she fell asleep to the feeling of his fingers running up and down her spine.

The flat smelled of breakfast, and she groaned and sat up. In the mirror across from the bed, she looked like a fright. Her hair was sticking in all directions, and her makeup was streaked, likely from rolling around in the bed and rubbing her eyes in her sleep.

Hermione crawled out of bed and looked down to see that Harry had peeled her out of her dress at some point. She probably hadn't even woken up, but she found herself in a familiar quidditch top. She padded across the room and made her way into the kitchen.

Harry was hunched over the bar, murmuring something to himself.

"Harry?" she called, coming around the island. "Did you make breakfast?"

He raised his head. "I picked it up, and I restocked your Sober Up potion."

Heat rose to her cheeks. "Oh, I acted like a complete idiot last night, didn't I?"

He kissed her temple. "You were adorable."

Hermione set the takeaway boxes out. "You know, whenever we inevitably have to live together, we won't be able to eat takeaway every day. Not only is it unhealthy, but it's also expensive."

"Right," Harry said from right behind her, but there was a hitch in his voice. "Hermione, turn around for me, love?"

She spun on her heel, his clothes swinging as it reached just above the knee, and she was holding a piece of bacon. It slipped from her hand as her eyes widened. "Harry?" Her voice was caught in her throat.

He was on one knee, his eyes uncharacteristically bright even for him. "I know that we've done all of this backwards, and I know that you might think this is only because of the Ministry."

"I don't," she whispered.

"And I know we agreed that we could wait the full time before we were forced to marry, but I don't want to wait anymore. You said it best, I'm not sure I've ever laughed this much in my life. I tried to think of what to say but, just, please marry me?"

Hermione hiccuped, nodding while she tried to clear her throat. "Yes," she gasped, not even pausing to stare at the ring he slipped onto her finger before she tackled him to the floor.