Disclaimer: I am not, nor could I ever wish to be, the magnificent JKR. The characters and concepts of this work herein are entirely the property of JKR and her publishers. I don't own rights, claim rights, or anything of the sort. You cannot sue me O.O Thank you. Enjoy.

This chapter is mostly a romantic chapter with suggestive behavior. It might seem a little bit all over the place as Hermione is still struggling with how she feels about everything and the thoughts that keep popping in and out of her head. Her knowledge is battling her emotions, and her emotions competing for dominance with her morals.

"I now pronounce you man and wife." Hermione never looked away from Harry as they openly shared a kiss in matrimony; from that moment on they would be a married couple. Until death do them part, as it goes, regardless of the time that death occurs. She still wasn't sure if Harry had realized how likely it was that he was a horcrux himself. Harry lifted her up in his arms and twirled them in a small circle before they returned their eyes to Ron, who had forced himself to grin at the newlyweds.

Hermione knew how hard it must have been for him to return to them. Simply finding them must have been difficult, although he accredited his success to the Delumintor. It had apparently provided him with a voice and a light leading him from Shell Cottage, where he temporarily lived with Bill and Fleur, into the woods where he found Harry – and by default Hermione. However, watching his two best friends marry and living with the romance between them, openly now, was going to destroy what little ego he had obtained in his absence; she felt respect growing inside her. He was a wonderful man. She wondered if Ron would stand by her side if Harry died…if…when

"I am going to go back to Shell Cottage for the evening. I know you've had time alone, but you're sort of married now. I imagine you'll want that time alone, eh, to do things that married people do. Congratulations, by the way. It's sort of hard to tell but I am happy for you. Both of you." His voice had that funny sound to it when he got nervous pouring every syllable. Hermione watched his mess with the edges of his plaid button-up shirt, his fingers white from the pressure he was applying. He was becoming such a strong individual, she was sincerely proud of him. A smile crossed her face.

"Ron, you don't need to do that. There's not we can do now married than we couldn't before." She hadn't thought of how horrible that must have sounded to him. It was insinuated that they were sexually active prior to the marriage, which made the marriage look as though it were simply to show off. She shook her head as he turned ghostly pale while Harry giggled to her side. Oh yea, she figured to herself, Harry would find this bizarre misuse of language hilarious. He was the sort of freakish fellow who would. And still she loved it.

"I think she'd meant to say that your presence won't bother us. We haven't done anything before, with few intentions to engage further after. We married because we don't know how long we might have left considering the times." He still laughed as he spoke; in a rather pompous manner he also eased the tension. The trio hooked arms and headed back out of the building silently. None of them were really sure what would be said next.

They were feeling particularly daring that day, deciding to pick up a small lunch in a tiny shop down a cobblestone street. It looked fairly deserted minus the local hustle and bustle of nearby residents about their daily business. When asked by strangers they simply stated they were exchange students and exploring the area. Most people welcomed them without any hint that they may be Death Eaters. It was a peaceful afternoon for the most part, but no further communication on the marriage was shared.

"Hermione, how do you intend to pay for this?" Harry whispered. He had spent the last of his cash on the ring, rather foolish her retrospect, but still an action of good faith. Hermione knew coming n that this would be an issue. She figured she could offer collateral in place of their bill. She had a beautiful set of diamond jewelry she could offer up. The smaller more personalized areas as this were more understanding, and much more likely to barter as so.

"I've got enough. I'd wager I even have enough for you two to go somewhere for the night. There's not really a choice, by the way. Either you two are staying in the tent or I am." Ron was forward on the matter, and clearly stuck in his position. She could see his persistence as she had accidentally suggested behavior that shouldn't really be shared with three individuals. He had been through enough, she figured she may as well give in to some agreement to be separate just for the night.

"Just this night, you hear? It's no luxury staying in the tent, so if you wish to return to Shell Cottage that is fine, but I expect you back tomorrow morning! We've got a lot to do, you know." She tried to have control over it, but she did not prosper. Ron slapped the cash onto the table; Hermione wondered when he had managed to get Muggle money, euros. He headed instantly from the store, the faint sounds of sniffling trailing behind him. Harry nudged Hermione to move, she felt particularly sorry for him. He did well for the time he was with them. She hoped sincerely he would return tomorrow.

Harry shrugged, undisturbed by Ron's sudden maturity. Hermione shouldn't have been so bothered but it was strange. There really weren't any words appropriate enough for how he was. That's how depressed people are, Hermione. They don't act like themselves because they are too sad to distinguish ordinary behavior from odd ones. She was inches from walking into the closing door. She tripped into it, as she had gained a certain clumsiness since they left the Burrow many moons ago. It was probably the stress. I won't think about Ron anymore. Now is not the time. Today is not the day.

They strolled the streets for a short time before they actually returned to the tent. When they arrived it was empty as it had been left. Hermione cast a presence charm to be sure, a habit she'd become accustom to, a second nature action. They looked at each other, kicked the dirt beneath their shoes. Eventually the newlyweds entered the tent quietly, keeping a small distance between them, although not enough to ignore the sparks flying between them. Everything seemed new, changed.

The tent felt bigger, even though it hadn't grown. The air seemed warm, even though it was winter. And Harry – he seemed much more handsome than he had ever been before – but he was unchanged from yesterday. She felt herself stumbling over her breaths, trying her best to catch them without alerting Harry to her nervousness. It felt the same as it did in the spring when Harry first approached her in the library, the way things were when their friendship morphed into something bigger. When two people, unknowingly came together and fell in love.

"It's silly to stay in these clothes, isn't it? It's no way to be dressed in this weather." Harry kept his eyes on her, fumbling his fingers over his buttoned shirt. Hermione acted in a similar manner, reached out for her zipped and staring at Harry's feet. Would he offer to help her? What would happen if he touched her and she wanted more? Things nearly went too far last night, and they had no restrictions now that would compromise morality. That was her problem with it in the first place, wasn't it?

Leave it to me, Hermione thought, to be focused on everything else but what I want by itself. At least she could recognize it, she pondered in sequence. She moved her hands down her legs to remove the heels; they had hurt terribly compared to the sneakers and ballet flats she'd been wearing around for so long. Once Harry was unbuttoned, shirt sliding down his shoulders – well – it nudged Hermione enough in the right direction to make a move herself.

"I can't reach the zipper. Do you think you could - ?"

"- absolutely, yea. I mean, of course. What human should be able to bend like that?" Hermione felt his skin touch hers, but instead of freezing it was warm. His forefinger traced a line behind the zipper all the way down to the small of her back. Time came to a halt as they waited for the events to come. He would either step away, which almost pained Hermione to think, or he would push his hands against her shoulder blades and slowly run them up and under the dress to slide it off her arms, down to her ankles.

Instead, he turned Hermione around, gently applying pressure to her wrists. He couldn't have known because he let go abruptly with a shocked sort of scowl in his face. She brushed his cheek, it was deliberate and uncompassionate. How could she put emotion into what was happening? Harry stepped back and removed his belt, probably stalling since neither of them were moving particularly fast in that direction, that intimate way.

"Blimey, Mione, is it supposed to be this awkward?" he finally just howled at her, his arms tossed carelessly in the air. He wasn't angry, and she was thankful for that. Hermione couldn't hold back her smile, it didn't really matter how it happened because at some point things were going to be weird for them. It was a new experience, if you would label it so, and neither of them were exactly educated, another unsatisfactory term considering, on the events about to take place. She needed to stop rationalizing but she almost couldn't turn it off.

She hopped down into his arms, embracing him as if he were never going to come back to her if he let go. He squeezed back, electrifying her with each breath that slipped over her collarbone. He was nuzzled into her neck, lips beginning to smooch in varying increments. First short ones that were spaced apart, causing Hermione to long for the gaps to close; but they transformed into longer, wet kisses that were separated by nothing more than a second for air, and it left Hermione in a daze wanting more. She hadn't done it purposefully, but she tugged on the sides of his pants. It was almost involuntary, even though she knew no such thing was possible. Harry reacted by, finally, tugging her dress down, over her torso to fall suddenly to her feet.

Harry was hovering over her, only certain parts of their body touching, worrying. She was scared too, who wouldn't be. The first time was always scary, or so she had heard and read at various points in her life. Everything was going fine, she assured herself, and put her hands around Harry's waist. It was enough to convince him, to ease his nerves. There was confusion, short bursts of pain, and certainly moving from one uncomfortable position to another, but eventually they found a way to be one. And it couldn't have been more perfect.

It was dark out when Hermione's eyes opened, she flew upright from the bunk nearly hitting her head on a side board. She looked around, closed her mind and exerted her focus to the sounds around her. The clothes that had been scattered across the floor were no longer there and the scent of ashes filled the air. Harry must have woken up to keep watch, she thought. He might not have even gone to sleep. She inched across the room, the quilt she brought from her own bedroom wrapped around her body. Her mother's mother had made the blanket during her pregnancy to commemorate things that were special to her. It was one of her most loved possessions, coinciding with the library she left behind.

She slid into her loosest pair of jeans, she felt a bit sore. She was definitely tender, and thought it best to wear something snug, but not suffocating. A camisole underneath a Gryffindor shirt which was underneath one of Harry's gray sweatshirts; it smelled exactly as he did: campfire and chocolate. He was snatching up a chocolate bar (a frog if they were in the wizarding community by chance). And he was always starting fires.

"In wood…in the air…in my heart…" She whispered into the chest of the sweatshirt, her hands balling up around the edges. She couldn't have been happier than she was in that moment. She was finally content, pleased with where she was with Harry, and proud of the fact that they were one horcrux closer to ending Voldemort's reign of terror. Her body slithered through the tent's opening and found Harry fast asleep on Ron's shoulder, and Ron was enjoying a handful of licorice and a bottle of butterbeer.

"He was exhausted when I came earlier. I tried to tell him to go inside but he insisted, I swear." She shrugged her shoulders, what else was there to say on the matter. Harry, although you never knew his reasoning, made it clear he made decisions for himself. Hermione nudged him and forced him back into the tent to sleep. It was amazing how things fell easily back into place, just as though Ron had never left.

She cozied up to him, glad to have him back for good. He offered her a piece of his candy. She stuffed it in her mouth staring at the smoldering wood in front of her. Now that everyone was reasonably content, they would have to return to their mission. They couldn't afford to be recklessly interested in romantic relationships. Ron pinched Hermione just as she was preparing to grab for more of Ron's treat.

"I only meant for you to have one." Without even a blink of the eye occurring, the friends started grinning.

"We missed you, even if you can't see that."

"It sounds better coming from you."

"You're still Ron Weasley, after all. I think your disregard for the rules is even worse than Harry's." After a brief moment of silence, they started talking about what Hermione had been trying to plan for the horcrux search. Seeing as he wouldn't try to flirt with her, extensively anyhow, they debated different things that they could do. She was unconsciously suggesting that Harry and Nagini, that dreaded snake, might be horcruxs themselves. She had been telling the story of their Godric's Hollow visit, a second time with step-by-step and thought-by-thought explanations when Ron noticed.

He proclaimed a look upon her face that was unmistakable, the type that suggested she knew something unpleasant. She didn't know, but she feared. Stop thinking about it, Hermione order her mind to cease all negative things from passing her thoughts. She changed the subject but Ron persisted. And, more intelligently than he ever had before, finally pinpointed the general nature of Hermione's hints; it left Hermione feeling guilty.

"Do you think Voldemort might have used a living thing as a horcrux?"

Things were never perfect for too long.

I also want to quickly apologize for how long it took me to update. I have been pretty good about getting chapters up quickly (as I equally enjoy this story as you do).

However, I've been sick since the last chapter was posted and I spent my entire weekend in bed. I hope you like this chapter :) I have been debating for awhile when I would have Harry and Hermione really just get their puzzle in place.

I adore all of you, the next chapter will be out as soon as I am able!