Chapter Nine

"27…28…29…30!" Harry counted eagerly. "All 30 are there, just like Madam Pomfrey said!"

Hermione groaned and rubbed her chin agitatedly. This had been the umpteenth time Harry had counted her stitches, not to mention Ron, Fred, and George as well. She just could not understand how they could so completely obsess over something as trivial as stitches and yet fall asleep during their History of Magic classes, a much more exciting and rewarding subject.

Though she had to admit that she somewhat enjoyed telling of her adventures with Bellatrix Lestrange when they boys were so enthusiastic, she had grown bored of Hospital Wing. The routine had been the same for three days- Madam Pomfrey and/or Mrs. Weasley would check-up on her when she woke up, after breakfast, after lunch, after dinner, after snacks, after being visited, after finishing a make-up assignment…nothing she did was left unchecked. NOTHING. They always asked her if she was all right, and didn't seem that there was anything she could say that would convince them that yes, she was fine and had been for some time.

But even though Hospital Wing was immensely boring- there was always Fred and George.

"Honestly, Hermione-" Fred began.

"You're such an amateur," George sighed.

"Right you are, George."

"Only thirty stitches."

"Weak!"

"Pathetic!'

"Lame."

"I'm sorry to interrupt," a calm voice said. Hermione and the twins all turned to face a man with a long, smooth face, soft brown eyes, a small tanned nose, and blonde shaggy hair that fell to his eyes. "My name is Lucas Aldair."

"Lucas?" George questioned.

"That's not a very common name, is it?" Fred added.

"My mother liked it," the man replied, smiling toothily and brushing his overgrown bangs out of his face.

"I like it, too." Hermione said, smiling pleasantly.

His eyes twinkled as they met hers. "Miss Granger, it's good to see you up and well. I don't believe I properly introduced myself last night."

Hermione shot him a puzzled look.

"I was the wolf- I'm an animagus."

"Oh…well, thanks for rescuing me. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Aldair.

"Everyone calls me Aldair. Just Aldair."

"Well, 'just Aldair,' how did you know where to find me when you did?"

"As an auror, I was of course-"

"You're an auror?" Fred, George, and Hermione gasped in unison.

Aldair flushed, mussing his hair. "Yes, of course. I thought Dumbledore told you…?"

They shook their heads.

"Ah well," he shrugged. "Now you know."

"That is so-" George said.

"-awesome!" Fred continued.

"How long have you been an auror?" Hermione asked.

He furrowed his brows. "Uh, about 23 years ago."

"Whoa," the twins gasped.

"Do you have enough time for a family, Aldair?" Hermione asked.

He smiled warmly. "Even if I didn't have the time, I'd still have one!"

"How many kids do you have?" Fred wanted to know.

"There are seven Weasleys!" George boasted.

Aldair's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Blimey! Seven kids!" The twins nodded eagerly. "I only have three- two boys and a baby girl."

"You are married, right?" Hermione asked.

"To the most beautiful woman alive."

Hermione smiled.

"So what division in the ministry are you in, specifically?" Fred asked.

"Ah…well…I hunt after the most wanted death eaters, naturally. But I was specifically hunting after Lestrange."

"What would you recommend doing to become an auror?' George asked.

"Good grades- especially in defense against the dark arts."

Fred and George exchanged sad glances.

"Hey, Hermione." Ron stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. "Can we have a moment alone?"

The twins walked off as Ron stepped in, though everyone knew they had no intentions of giving them any privacy.

"I need to speak to Dumbledore- but it was nice to be acquainted, Miss Granger." Aldair said, shaking her hand just before leaving.

"'Bye, Aldair."

He waved and shut the door.

Ron jumped into the plushy bed next to Hermione, making her bounce a little. She giggled softly, cuddling next to him.

"How are you, 'Mione?" He brushed a stray piece of hair from her face.

"Better," she sighed.

"You excited about the dance tomorrow?"

"Uh…no, not really."

"Why not?" he gently nuzzled her cheek affectionately.

"This." She pointed at her chin. Ron couldn't help but laugh.

"You're still beautiful, Hermione," he whispered in her ear. She looked at him, and then shook her head, blushing.

"You're beautiful enough for me," he said, leaning in and gently pressing against her lips. He set his hand on her exposed collar bone and stroked it gently.

"Ahem."

The two jumped as Ginny, smirking broadly, cleared her throat.

"All right, whaddaya want?" Ron asked.

"To speak to Hermione, privately," Ginny demanded.

"Can't you see Hermione and I were just doing that?" Ron retorted irately.

Ginny sighed. "Well, I wouldn't exactly call that speaking privately, but since you're so 'busy', I'm sure mum would love to hear about all this…"

"Fine. I'm leaving!'

He glared at his little sister before leaving.

"Things are moving a bit fast between you two, don't you think?"

"NO," Hermione sighed deeply, sinking back into the pillows.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm assuming you know what I'm here for."

Hermione groaned. "I dunno…what on earth could cover these up?"

Ginny looked at her stitches thoughtfully. "I already started some research, but..." she pulled out a huge stack of books. "-it might take awhile."

"Well that just about killed the joy of reading."

Ginny laughed grimly. "Start on page one."