A/N: Okay, we are winding down to the end. I just didn't want to do a quickie 'everyone's all happy, the end' because I wasn't quite ready to let them go, yet. I'm not planning on this being one of those incredible 60+ chapters, 300,000+ word stories. (Seriously, how do you people do that?)

Charts and organizational diagrams covered the walls above Hermione's bed in the seventh year dorms. Unfortunately, the body count had been high enough that the current seventh years, and those who hadn't been able to take their seventh year due to the muggleborn registry were all able to fit into the seventh year dorms just fine. For the first time ever, Ginny and Hermione were dorm mates, and they'd claimed beds next to one another. Lavender didn't mind, and neither did Victoria Frobisher or Parvati. Hermione was sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring intently at her charts, and nibbling at her lower lip.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Ginny asked curiously, as she sprawled across her bed. Hermione glanced at Ginny and shrugged.

"Just trying to figure out what I want to do with my life," Hermione said with a slight frown. Ginny snorted.

"Oh, so nothing really major then," Ginny said dryly. Hermione sighed.

"Fred and George want to know what I want to do, after I graduate," Hermione said softly.

"What do you want to do?" Ginny asked curiously.

"I'm not sure. I mean, I've received a ridiculous number of offers from the Ministry. Almost every department has sent me an offer. I've also received an impressive number of offers from private businesses. I could do pretty much anything, go anywhere," Hermione said with a shrug.

"Do you want to work for the Ministry?" Ginny asked. Hermione frowned.

"I'm not overly fond of the Ministry," she said after a minute. "I know your Dad works there, and I respect him very much…but I have huge problems with the Ministry."

"I would be irritated if you didn't," Ginny said firmly. "Harry's struggling with the idea of joining the Auror training program. On the one hand, he'd follow in his dad and Sirius' footsteps. On the other hand, the Ministry has screwed him over more times than he cares to count."

"Some of the private businesses have offered me internships with their research and development departments, which I must say intrigues me a great deal," Hermione said slowly.

"Yeah, but how do you know that they're okay? They might be just as bad as the Ministry," Ginny pointed out. Hermione nodded. She'd had the same concerns.

"I guess it all boils down to the fact that I don't trust very many people anymore. Our family…that's about it," Hermione said flatly. Ginny grinned at her. "What?"

"Our family," Ginny repeated, grinning widely. Hermione sighed. "What?"

"Well, that's part of it, too. I've had to hide what I am for so long, I'd sort of like to announce to the world that I'm happily bonded, but Fred doesn't want a wedding," Hermione said in hurried rush, blushing and glancing around to make sure they were still alone. Ginny snorted.

"I think the twins would love to announce to the world that you are all theirs, thanks so much. I think that's what those shirt charms were for. Staving off all of the marriage offers from men who want you just because you're a major war hero," Ginny explained. Hermione's face softened.

"Do you really think so?" She asked in a hushed voice. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Flat out tell them you want a wedding. If they protest, you'll know I was wrong. If they agree to it without arguing—they want it just as much as you do," Ginny said firmly. Hermione nodded gravely, then bit her lip again.

"What about the career options? I mean, since you're on a role with the great advice and all," Hermione asked. Ginny frowned.

"Well, you basically need to work with family. So I guess you could go tame dragons with Charlie. Gringott's would probably not want you anywhere near them, or Bill. Percy and Dad work at the Ministry, but that's out. Um…that leaves the twins," Ginny said with a shrug.

"Not necessarily. There's always Sirius. I could help him be a millionaire playboy. How does one do that, do you suppose?" Hermione asked curiously. Ginny turned bright red.

"Er, I don't think the twins would like that at all," Ginny said firmly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't planning on being his mistress, you git! I was thinking more like social secretary, or personal assistant or something," Hermione bit out tightly. Ginny started to giggle.

"Can you imagine? I'm sorry, ma'am, he's booked solid, but I can squeeze you in two weeks from now at 4:00 in the afternoon," Ginny gasped out and Hermione started laughing, too, at the image of booking Sirius' 'lady friends'.

"I know it's hard to believe," she panted after a minute, "but he really does do more than shag random women."

"Hmm," Ginny said doubtfully.

"Okay, fine, but that really does leave me back at square one," Hermione said darkly.

F/H/G/F/H/G

"Hey, Potter, can I talk to you?" Draco Malfoy approached Harry after Potions. Harry frowned at his former nemesis and then shrugged.

"Sure, whatever. What do you want Malfoy?" Harry asked in a bored voice. Draco glanced around and then sighed.

"Can we speak privately?" He asked quietly. Harry blinked.

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry said in surprise. He followed Draco to an unused classroom. Draco turned around and Harry realized that the blond looked uncomfortable.

"Have you accepted any offers for Gr—er, Hermione, yet?" He asked with a slightly pained expression. Harry stared at Draco in confusion, hoping that somehow his question would begin to make sense. Finally, he gave up.

"What offers?" Harry asked with a frown. Draco frowned back at him, surprise evident in his expression.

"Has she, er, not received any?" He asked in surprise. Harry ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, sure, Hermione's received a ton of offers, but she's not sure what she wants to do yet," Harry said slowly. "She's a little gun shy around the Ministry, but some private industries are interested. I didn't think the Malfoy family sullied its name in trade…has that changed?"

"What? No, Potter, marriage offers. Have you received any marriage offers for your sister?" Draco looked exasperated. Harry stared at Draco, his face turning a funny shade of red.

"Are you offering for Hermione's hand?" Harry asked in a strained voice. Draco turned pink and shrugged.

"I'm just asking after your sister," Draco said nonchalantly.

"I suppose that a match with a war hero would help your family," Harry observed in that same strained voice. Draco flushed.

"It might," he said shortly. Harry rubbed his forehead absently, and then looked at Draco with an inscrutable expression.

"I've received a few," he said at last. He didn't bother to mention to Draco that he didn't dare show them to Hermione, for fear that she'd throw a tantrum about the 16th century mores of the wizarding world.

"Any that you'd consider?" Draco asked curiously. Harry's face grew cold.

"No," he said flatly. He didn't bother to go into the fact that Hermione was already married because he didn't feel it was any of Malfoy's damn business.

"Ah. Good to know. Well, it was nice chatting with you, Potter. Must do it again, sometime," Draco said calmly, and left Harry alone in the classroom.

Several days later, Hermione was sitting in the library, working on an essay. She didn't even glance up when she felt someone sit down next to her. A throat clearing brought her glance up, and she frowned slightly at Draco Malfoy who was trying to smile seductively. Hermione had done her best to stay far away from Malfoy so far this year, and she felt that she'd done an admirable job. She sort of felt sorry for him, his family had suffered in the war, and they were under some scrutiny from the Ministry. Harry, Ron, and the twins had spoken on their behalf to the Ministry at their trial because apparently Malfoy had attempted to protect Harry in Malfoy Manor. Before his auntie mysteriously spontaneously combusted. Perhaps it was guilt for flambéing his aunt with unbridled glee, but she'd avoided him. Now here he was, leering at her in the library. He really was leering, too, because the bond was making her skin crawl. Or maybe that was just Malfoy. It was hard to tell.

"Can I help you, Malfoy?" She asked coolly. He smirked at her, and her frown grew more pronounced.

"What are you working on?" he asked her in a husky voice. Hermione blinked at him.

"Transfiguration essay," Hermione said, watching Draco with a puzzled expression. He nodded.

"I found that one to be really interesting. Did you use Spellman's Treatise?" Draco asked curiously. Hermione's mouth dropped open. She closed it quickly and swallowed.

"Erm, yes, I did," Hermione said hesitantly. Draco made a few more comments about the homework, winked at her, and then left the library. Hermione stared after him, a dazed expression on her face.

F/H/G/F/H/G

Hermione tossed her book bag on the floor and threw herself onto the couch between Ron and Harry. She glanced at her brother.

"Malfoy's up to something," she said sulkily. Harry looked at her, one brow raised.

"Isn't this where I'm supposed to tell you to drag him off to a broom closet?" Harry asked dryly. Hermione glared at him.

"I think that's exactly what he wants," she said with distaste. Ron gagged slightly.

"That's absolutely disgusting!" He said darkly. "Don't even joke about things like that."

"No, I think she's right," Harry said thoughtfully. He looked at his sister. "I think he's trying to seduce you or something."

"You must be joking," Hermione said flatly. Harry shook his head.

"No, he asked me some weird questions a while ago, and it never occurred to me that he might be thinking about…well, you as like wife material." Harry muttered in irritation.

"He wants to marry me?" Hermione shrieked, sitting bolt upright on the couch. Harry cringed and covered his ears. Everyone in the common area turned to stare at her. She blushed furiously and smiled weakly at everyone. Then she turned back to her brother. "Bloody hell, Harry, this is the sort of thing you're supposed to warn me about."

"I didn't realize that that was what he was up to until you said something," Harry said defensively. "I would have thought the stupid git would figure you'd rather hex his bollocks off than marry him."

"You'd think," Hermione muttered darkly.

The next couple weeks found Hermione desperate to place distance between herself and Malfoy. Even worse, once some of the students realized that Draco was attempting to pursue her, several of the male students decided that they needed to press their own suits, or risk losing out on Hermione. By the time the Hogsmeade weekend rolled around, Hermione was the first student in line, tapping her foot impatiently waiting for her okay to head toward the wizarding village. She marched up to the WWW Annex and threw open the door, marching right up to the counter. She glared at Fred, who was standing in his magenta robes, eyeing her cautiously.

"I want to get married," she announced firmly, a gimlet look in her eye. Fred looked at her and frowned.

"Is there something that George and I ought to know, spitfire?" Fred asked quietly, his face slightly pale. Hermione growled, her hair starting to spark slightly.

"Sodding Malfoy is trying to sodding court me, and once he started, then everyone else decided it was open season on Hermione," she groused. Fred's eyes widened slightly and he looked for George who came over and slid an arm around her waist.

"Hello, love," he murmured and kissed her forehead.

"Our spitfire here has decided that she'd like to get married. Apparently Malfoy's been courting her."

"Wait, you want to marry Malfoy? Absolutely not!"

"No, of course I don't want to marry Malfoy! I want to marry you two," she hissed at them. "I want everyone to know the truth. I'm tired of hiding. I'm tired of lying. I want everybody to know that I'm yours and you lot are mine."

"Ah," they said, the strangest expressions on both of their faces. She frowned at them.

"Well?" She demanded. Fred and George looked at her and smiled smugly.

"You want the world to know that you're ours?" George asked softly, trailing his fingertips up the inside of her arm.

"Yes," she said firmly. "And that you are mine. The both of you."

"Fred, you have it on you, or did you leave it at the flat?" George asked.

"Got it here somewhere," Fred muttered, digging through his pockets. George lifted her wrist gently and carefully took off the silver bracelet she always wore, leaving her bond mark exposed. His fingers gently massaged the tattoo, making her skin tingle and her eyes glow slightly. He flicked his wand, and the glamour that normally covered the twins' wrists was gone. "Ah! Here it is!"

"That's a Skiving Snackbox," Hermione said doubtfully. Fred grinned at her.

"Pay no attention to the box, love. It's what's inside that counts."

Inside the empty Skiving Snackbox was a delicate ring of what she suspected was white gold with a fairly large sapphire flanked by two fire opals. She sucked in her breath, staring at the box. Fred and George carefully slid the ring onto her finger and then grinned at her hand. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked rapidly, staring dumbfounded at her hand. They frowned.

"You don't like it?"

"We'll get you a different one."

"No! No, I love it," she whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks. They continued to frown.

"Then why are you crying?" George asked quietly. Hermione rubbed her cheeks.

"Because I'm happy," she said. They rolled their eyes and kissed her cheeks.

"Right. So we have to contact everyone, or they'll all be upset," Fred said with a long-suffering sigh.

"And we have to figure out how to sneak in the castle so we can have a celebratory dinner in the Room of Requirement," George added with a certain gleam in his eye that promised much more than dinner. Hermione snorted.

"That part's easy," she said with a shrug. "Hogwarts may have excellent wards, but they aren't triad strong. We can bend them to allow you in whenever you want."

"How long have you known that?" Fred demanded. Hermione waved a hand.

"Ever since I came back for sixth year. The wards are complex, sure, but I can…er…massage them," Hermione explained. Fred and George both looked put out.

"You mean to tell us—"

"—that we could have been"

"—visiting you this whole time?"

"Oh. I didn't think of that. Yes, I suppose so," Hermione said in a small voice, her eyes wide.

"You didn't think of it?" They exclaimed, dumbfounded.

"Obviously, our technique must be lacking," Fred said darkly. Hermione rolled her eyes, and moved closer to him to kiss him.

"Your technique is fine, and so is George's. I just…I was worrying about everything else. The whole 'what am I going to do after graduation' thing." Hermione explained softly. Fred allowed her to press kisses along his jaw to mollify him. George's eyes darkened and he moved closer to her. He lifted her left wrist and pressed kisses along the bond mark. Hermione started to shudder between them, her eyelids fluttering.

"Fascinating," Fred murmured, watching their spitfire.

"When do we close?" George muttered against the skin of Hermione's wrist.

"Not for hours."

"Bloody hell."

"Too right."