McGonagall had been kind enough to give Harry a few weeks for exam preparations, but he had to look forward to a full week of NEWTs starting on February 2. Since I was worried about my own marks, our honeymoon phase mostly consisted of us holding hands over really large books in the library until Madam Pince pointedly doused all of the lanterns. It wasn't exactly romantic, but we at least got to be miserable together.

By the time the end of January rolled around, though, we ate, slept and studied and were too exhausted to do anything else. When the house-elves put up the usual notice for the Hogsmeade visit on Valentine's Day, Harry blinked blearily at it and then just tore it down.

I hated seeing him like this—he'd been through enough in the last year without worrying about answering questions that Dumbledore himself probably didn't know how to work out. So I sent off three owls on the last Tuesday of January and called for reinforcements.

Early on, we'd agreed that on Fridays, we would sneak food up to our rooms and have some time to ourselves. Harry was good enough to nick a roast, mashed potatoes and a loaf of bread on the way back from the library, but he promptly dropped it when Ron, not I, opened the door. Hermione immediately caught it with a deft flick of her wand and levitated it to our magically-expanded coffee table.

"Surprise," Hermione called cheerfully. "Ginny said you could use some moral support."

"Too right," Harry blurted. "How…when…"

"McGonagall let us Floo from the Leaky Cauldron," Ron explained. "We had tea with Hagrid and had a good laugh at Hestia's boggart lesson and now here we are to bother you."

"As long as you don't mind talking about nothing but Potions," Harry countered. "This is a brilliant idea."

He reiterated that when the others weren't looking. It was the first time in a week and a half that he'd smile, so I guessed that we could count it as a success.

"Actually, we have that covered, too," Hermione announced.

She reached deep into her schoolbag, which was now built around the same charms as her beaded handbag, and rummaged around. There were several loud thuds and Harry went slightly paler at the thought that she had more massive books for him to read. Eventually, she pulled out a stack of paper.

"Two-on-two trivia," she explained. "Ginny and Ron versus Harry and myself. Whoever gets the most right gets to choose dessert."

"You're on," I laughed. "Shall we flip a Knut to see who goes first?"

Harry waved a hand indulgently. "We'll let you have that honor," he stated solemnly. "You'll need the head start."

I stuck my tongue out at him as Hermione Conjured a scoreboard and a piece of chalk that hovered expectantly as she extracted the first flashcard from the stack.

"The five incantations for the Fidelius charm, Ginny. One minute."

I got that just under the time limit—it took me a while to remember the modification to the Unplottable Charm—and the chalk started tallying. Harry got the twelve uses of dragon blood right and the game was afoot.

Naturally, between my studying and Hermione's unnatural smarts, we stayed neck and neck through the mashed potatoes and roast. The number of cards dwindled and it looked as if we'd have to call in Flitwick for a tie-breaker. But when Harry slipped up and mispronounced the Self-Replicating Spell, he wound up with a pair of forks that kept cloning themselves and then disintegrating. Unfortunately, I forgot two of the ingredients of the Lugubrious Libation and we went back to a tie.

Then Ron mixed up the properties of daisy roots and gurdy roots, which Harry blamed on post-traumatic Slughorn disorder. If he got the next question right, he would win. I picked up the final card and just grinned.

"NEWT level my foot," I snorted. "What is the incantation for the Patronus charm?"

"We were robbed," Ron groaned.

"You stacked the deck," I guessed.

"Oh, don't be such sore losers," Hermione chided with a grin.

"Wait a bit," Harry insisted. "I haven't answered yet. Who's to say I'll remember that?"

I lobbed a spoonful of leftover potatoes at him. He graciously took them in the face, then scourgified his glasses.

"Er, let's see, Expecto Patronum?"

"Chocolate gateau?" Hermione suggested. "Or Kreacher said they might have some leftover pie."

"One of everything, of course," Ron commanded. "I need a bit of comfort food."

"C'mon, then," Harry urged. "I'm still starving."

It was nice of him to give us time for catching up. I hadn't seen Hermione since Christmas, though she sent weekly owls. They were full of news about her job in the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, the equivalent of entry-level in the Magical Law Enforcement Department. It had been a while since we got to have one of those long, sisterly talks that we'd indulged in over the years. But Hermione being Hermione, she got right down to business once the boys were out of the room.

"Muffliato."

I arched an eyebrow, wondering what she wanted to keep Professor Sinistra from overhearing. She just shrugged and tucked her wand back in her jacket.

"Nothing wrong with a little privacy," she commented. "How are things?"

"You mean other than having a husband who looks less alive than an Inferius at the end of every day?" I shot back.

"It'll be better after the NEWTs," Hermione assured me. "He just wants top marks so the Aurors will take him."

"I think they'd be barmy not to," I snickered. "'Sorry, Mr. Potter. Well done on defeating the Dark Lord and all, but you only got an E in Potions. Really, we thought you were intelligent!'"

Hermione smiled at that. "I think their recruiters will invent a technicality to let him join even if he gets a T in Defense Against the Dark Arts," she pointed out. "They've had their eyes on him for a couple of years."

"Have you heard anything?" I asked eagerly.

"Nothing specific," she said, "but I run into Kingsley fairly often and you know his opinion of Harry. If it were up to him, he wouldn't have had to pass his OWLs to get a job offer."

"Yes, but Harry wants to get in on his hard work, not his reputation," I reminded her.

"Which he will," she insisted. "Between the DA, our adventures last year and your help, he's more prepared than even I could make him."

"I think he's starting to realize that," I confessed, nodding at the forgotten stack of flashcards. "Thanks for that."

"It was better than sitting him down and interrogating him," she said before stuffing the cards back into her bag. "What about the rest?"

"The rest?"

She glanced around as if to make sure that we weren't being overheard, then fixed me with a pointed look. "Are you being careful?"

The fact that she had muffled us and waited for the boys to be out of the room meant that she wasn't referring to security protocols. Not the normal kind, anyway. It was only slightly less mortifying to have my best friend question my sexual habits than my mother.

"Hermione!"

"It's your choice of course," Hermione lectured, "but you might want to hold off on having chil…"

"Hermione, even if McGonagall hadn't threatened us with various forms of painful death if we reproduced on her watch, she made me go to Madam Pomfrey on my next break," I stated. "Harry and I aren't in any hurry to expand the Weasley family and I don't want to take my NEWTs with morning sickness. I'm on a twice-monthly potion and we're not even thinking about that until we're out of school."

"Sorry," she said, looking relieved and appropriately pink. "I had to ask."

"No, you didn't," I countered. "I've already got one Mum and all those brothers."

Luckily for me, one of the aforementioned brothers burst through the door with a towering pudding in one hand and a pumpkin pie in the other. Hermione ended the spell with a mutter and jumped up to help.

"So, are you coming to the party?" I asked.

"Are you kidding?" Ron asked around a mouthful of biscuit. "We get to be out after hours here and Filch can't give us a single detention. I'd come just for that."

"Besides," Hermione added, "George scheduled the opening of the Hogsmeade store for that weekend. We promised to help out with that."

"Think he could use two extra sets of hands?" Harry suggested.

"It can't hurt to ask."

"I already did," I interjected. "He said if we can spare a few hours, he'll leave the Dungbombs at home."

"Sounds like him," he mused. "It's a date, then."

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Harry barely spoke to me for the next week, but that had more to do with how quickly he fell asleep each night than any marital problems. When he finally trudged out of Slughorn's dungeon on Friday, smelling of shrivelfigs and with a smudge of armadillo bile on his nose, I was waiting. We kicked the prefects out of the bathroom for an evening, set Peeves to the task of keeping Moaning Myrtle distracted and enjoyed a long, hot bath.

It took us both a week to recover from that, but by the time Saturday arrived, we were back in our good spirits. Harry was very patient with all the customers who gawped at him and blocked his way while he was trying to get to the stockroom, I got to man the till and we might have stayed there all night if George hadn't threatened to hex us if we didn't have a "proper romantic dinner" before everyone else invaded. We went to the Gryphon's Club, the kind of restaurant that we'd never gone to because students couldn't usually afford that sort of fine dining, and then headed back to the castle to get ready for the party.

It was supposed to start at eight, but Luna turned up at half past seven and promptly started lecturing me on my missing protective charms.

By the time the party got into full swing, I completely lost track of both time and Harry. He'd been cornered by Slughorn at the same moment that Professor Sprout came to give me our housewarming gift. Once I'd found a place to put it that wouldn't endanger the other guests, I went in search of my husband.

I hadn't noticed Kingsley enter until I saw him standing next to Harry. It was a sign of our good judgment that our guests had the good sense not to harass the Minister of Magic. Both Harry and Kingsley were looking very serious and Harry caught my eye before waving me over urgently.

"Hello, Kingsley," I said genially. "Good of you to come."

"I'm here on a bit of official business first and as a friend later," he said solemnly. "Harry's exam results came in today."

Oh, so that's why he looked like a kicked kneazle. Oh, no. After all his hard work…

"I need your advice," Harry said quietly. "Hogwarts wants me to take over the Defense Against the Dark Arts post and the Aurors want me."

It wasn't that much of a surprise either way, but my jaw still dropped on hearing it first. I hugged the life out of him for about a minute while he laughed in a choked, relieved sort of way. I would have congratulated him more properly, but the Minister of Magic was watching and we actually liked this one.

"If it would ease the difficulty of the decision," Kingsley interrupted, "we were hoping to hire Ron Weasley as well."

Now, there was a scary thought.

"Really," Harry blurted. "That's...with Hermione in the Ministry as well."

"It would be like letting Grawp vacation in a gnome colony," I added to be helpful.

"Quiet, you," he chided affectionately.

"Just look what you did to it the last time you invaded," I reminded him.

"Extraordinary circumstances," Harry rationalized. "On the other hand, Hestia really should stay on the job for a few years. Just because she can."

"So, you'll take the job?" Kingsley interjected. "Once you've left Hogwarts, of course."

"I would be honored to," Harry said enthusiastically. "Sir. Thank you, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," he said. "Now, if you'll point me in the direction of a butterbeer…"

He didn't need to say anything else, since Slughorn honed in on his availability and accompanied him to the refreshments table. I took advantage of the lack of hangers-on to kiss my successful husband as long as was appropriate in a crowded room.

"Congratulations," I whispered.

He came back for afters just as Ron and Hermione came around to be nosy.

"What happened?" Ron asked. "iNo one/i's that happy after talking to Kingsley."

"Exam results," Harry said.

Ron smirked. "Is it usual for the Minister of Magic to bring the bad news?"

"Only when he wants to give me a job," Harry said. "He says the Auror department has a couple of openings."

Hermione shrieked loudly enough to deafen half the room and Ron started thumping him on the back as if trying to save him from choking. I just kept out of the way and grinned.

"Well, I was hoping to keep it quiet," Harry said, "but thanks to the lot of you, I think people in Hogsmeade have heard."

"Well done, mate," Ron hissed. "I'm getting some butterbeer and we'll toast it."

He headed off in the same direction and was immediately collared by Kingsley, who looked only tpp happy to escape Slughorn. Hermione was still beaming as if she'd been named Head Girl.

"Hold on," she said suddenly, her eyes still on Ron. "You said they had a couple of openings in the Auror department."

Ron looked wildly around to Harry, a sort of shell-shocked expression on his face. Then he looked back to Kingsley and I could read his lips.

i"You're barking."/i

"I think Ron just got some good news, too," I commented.

i"Yes, I'll take it, but you're barking! With all due respect. Thanks."/i

That was Ron with his usual tact and self-restraint. Merlin help any dark wizards he ran across.

"No, Hermione," I said casually, "there aren't any openings left in the Auror department."