"Do you want to talk about the future?"

Hermione looked up from her book. She was sitting at the sofa, legs curled under her, a soft blanket keeping her warm. Her mum, pretty much in the same position on a plush seat close by, was looking at her with steady eyes.

"The... future?" Hermione repeated, slightly at a loss.

"Yes, the future, darling."

It was most definitely a loaded question. Hermione took the time to mark her progress in the book on her lap, slowly closing it and setting it aside as she prepared herself for the conversation they were about to have. Since her arrival and after the pleasantries were over, their talks had progressively turned more awkward and careful. Hermione was doing everything in her power to avoid any confrontations; this was likely the last time she would see her parents until they returned to England and she wanted their relationship to remain relatively stable.

"Uhm... what about it? And how far away into the future are you thinking? Tomorrow, when Ron arrives? Or next month, when I go back to Hogwarts? There is also Christmas, when you and Dad come back to England..."

Her mum laughed. "All of it."

In turn, Hermione let out a nervous chuckle. "Well, that's overwhelming. What do you want to know, then?"

"Nothing in particular. Everything. I want to know what you envision for what's to come for you, and what you might do after school."

"Oh, right. After school. Uhm..." Hermione tried to find something to say, but her mind was blank.

"It's all right if you don't know yet, you know?"

This time, she sighed in relief. "Thanks, Mum. Yes, I... I don't really know what I want to do after I'm done with school. Probably find something in the Ministry of Magic. Of course, it all depends on how I do in my N.E.W.T. levels, but if I do well on them, I would like to find something worthwhile; something that matters. That's why I need to go back to school, to have all options open."

"That certainly sounds like you," her mum said, with a soft smile. "I have to admit, though, that a part of me still had hopes you might want to make a career in our world..."

"Mum..."

"I know, I know. I'm trying. Tell me about how you're doing instead. Is the medicine working well?"

"The medicine?"

Medicine? The one she had stopped taking weeks ago with no supervision? The one her mum had been so optimistic about, when she first had gone to the doctor in Australia?

"Uhm," she began, while trying to gain some time by drinking a few sips of water. She had to decide: truth or lie, truth or lie. "They seem to be good for me," she said, without having made the conscious decision to lie.

"Great! I knew they would make a difference. No more panic attacks, then?"

"Oh, only one or two mild ones..." she added as she loosened her ponytail and tried to tame her hair into a braid. She wasn't going to think about those episodes, and how they had really been. Instead, she thought about how it had been a while since the last one. So maybe it didn't really matter that she wasn't being forthcoming; it was only a small lie to avoid worrying her mum over nothing. And she had gotten help, too, back then, when she saw the therapist.

"That's wonderful, dear." Hermione ignored the pang of guilt she felt at her mother's words. "And your sleeping? All good?"

My sleeping's fine, but that's because I sleep with Ron most nights, would have the honest answer, and another answer Hermione felt she couldn't share with her mother.

"It's... no problems, there," was all she said.

"Since we're talking about that, Ron will be sleeping in the sofa bed," her mum declared in a tone that allowed for no discussions. Not that Hermione would have tried to argued against it, anyway.

"Of course. He won't have a problem with that."

"So, what are Ron's plans for after school?"

"Ron's not going back to school; he doesn't need to. He's helping his brother with business; they've done pretty well over the summer. Also, in a few weeks he'll begin training to become an Auror- a magical sort of Scotland Yard- next month."

"So you'll be apart most of next year, then? Mmmh, I hope that doesn't change things."

Her tone had been wistful, so Hermione decided to let it go. If she wanted to keep the shaky truce with her parents, then she would need to be less defensive.

"It will be difficult," Hermione carefully said, "but we both plan to make it work. We're invested in our relationship."

"Of course you are! I don't mean to imply you're not, but long distance is very challenging."

"We know," she tried to say in a light tone, to prevent a discussion. "It's what we need to do, right now, to have the careers we want, so we'll get through it."

"That really does sound mature of you two. Being a couple sometimes means making sacrifices to the benefit of your future together."

Hermione let out a soft chuckle. "That's funny. Ron's mum told him yesterday that she thought he had matured, and now you're telling me you think we're mature for the choices we are making. In all honesty, to us it feels like we're doing what we must and hope for the best."

"Yes and, my darling, that is adulthood," said her mum, smiling.

Hermione didn't like to think that adulthood involved such levels of improvisation; adulthood surely was about learning how to keep up with all responsibilities in an efficient manner. She considered arguing the point but dropped it.

"And is being an Aur- Auror, you said? Is it a good job? If it's like the police, then is it dangerous?"

Hermione shifted a bit in her place on the sofa. This was a topic she didn't like to think about.

"Well," she said, "it is a good job. He's always wanted to be an Auror, and he was offered a position after all we did during the war..."

"He was offered a position?"

Hermione bristled a bit at the incredulity in her voice. Don't be defensive, she reminded herself. "Uhm, yes, he was. Him and Harry and some others who fought against Voldemort."

"But you are all just teens!"

"Teens who demonstrated great abilities and courage! And he will have to complete training, too. Condensed, because there is a big need right now, to stop Voldemort's followers from fleeing or causing more trouble."

Hermione could have argued further but she bit her tongue.

"He's eighteen, this shouldn't be on him."

"Yes, he's eighteen, and so am I." She purposely tried to maintain a neutral tone. "Most people are expected to choose a career at eighteen. Muggles sometimes choose to go into police training, don't they? Ron is doing the same, that's all."

"All right, yes. I suppose you are right. It's only, you are so young..."

"I know, mum. But sometimes, it's only young people who will step up to change the world."

Hermione's mum looked steadily at her, processing what she had said. She finally gave Hermione a nod, as if understanding.

"I hope he remains safe, then. For him, and for you, too."

"Me, too."

Ron was helping his mum to prepare dinner while she finished Ginny's cake. The birthday girl would arrive home any minute now, and they were trying to have everything ready by then.

From the sitting room, Ron heard his dad call George downstairs.

"George? Come down! Your sister's on her way!"

There was silence. Ron, even as he did the final touches on the food, paid attention to what was going on with George on the other room. If George didn't come down, Ron would have to go check on him; he had continued to spend long periods of time by himself, if a lot less, and Ron worried George might have dropped into one of his low moods while at home. George had indeed said that being at home seemed to trigger bad thoughts, after all.

"George?!" his dad called again.

"Yes, yes! No need to yell," George said as he came down the stairs. "I have a perfectly good ear, you know?"

Ron smirked to himself, his chest lightening. That was a classic George quip, one that felt like a balm to Ron's worries.

George had barely made it to the ground floor when Ginny came through the Floo Network.

"Here you are!" Ron's dad exclaimed. "Happy birthday!"

"Happy birthday!" everyone else exclaimed from where they were.

"Ron, dear," his mum said from his side, where she was working on the icing decorations. "Will you do something for me?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"We told Gin we got her something special this year, which of course was a bad idea. She has been looking around for it ever since we mentioned it. I hid it in the shed, behind the case where your dad stores the Muggle mechanical pieces he doesn't want me to see."

Ron cut a glance to his mum, who guessed what he was thinking.

"Yes, I know about those pieces," she smirked. "Anyway, can you please get it for me? It's a broom," she added in a soft voice, as if wanting to prolong the mystery for anyone who happened to be listening in.

"All right," he said, with a smile of his own.

He went to the sitting room to give Ginny a quick hug, before returning to the kitchen on his way out.

The night was a bit chilly for August, the change in temperature from the warm indoors giving him goose flesh. He walked fast toward the shed, ready to go back inside. He considered using a spell to warm up, but it was a bit of overkill for only a couple of minutes in the...

There was a noise in the shed. It hadn't been too loud; Ron wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been this close. It had been isolated, no more noises disrupting the quiet night. Ron, frozen in place as he studied the situation, reached for his wand, stealing a quick look back to the house. He didn't want to alarm everyone, so he decided not to call for help until he knew what was happening. The wards were still in place around The Burrow, so chances were the place was still safe. He readied to defend or attack as necessary.

Ron knew the door would creak and that trying to open it slower wouldn't work. He had to rely on surprising whoever was there, if anyone was. It could be a confused gnome at best, a reporter if he was out of luck or, worse, a dark wizard. Senses on high alert, he came close to the door, adopted a fight stance, and pushed it open with a slam.

"Expeliarmus!" he intoned, just in case someone was there.

"Shit! It's me! Protego!"

A scramble of metal and wood against the floor- and Harry holding his wand in one hand, the other one facing Ron, palm out in a gesture of well-meaning intentions.

"Harry?!" Ron exclaimed. "What in bloody hell are you doing here, hiding like a criminal?"

"Hiding like a criminal, hoping no one would find me before I was ready to go inside."

Ron abandoned the pose, coming into the shed.

"I'd've thought you would have reacted better to a surprise attack, mate. You're in Auror training."

"Hey, I'm in a safe place. Or I was, until you came in. Apparently, constant vigilance is not a good strategy, according to some trainers."

Ron scoffed.

"Also," Harry continued, "you should know that you would lose points for not asking me a security question. What if I'm impersonating me?" Harry wrinkled is nose and closed an eye as he reviewed what he had said, and how inarticulate it was. "You know what I mean."

"Where did we brew the Polyjuice Potion during second year?" Ron asked, eyes squinting but smiling.

"Hermione brewed the potion in Myrtle's bathroom. We mostly kept her company."

Ron nodded in agreement before going around the work table at the centre of it, towards the gift's location.

"Anyway," Ron said, "what are you doing here? The party's inside."

Ron reached around the case and grabbed the wrapped broom.

"Uhm, well... Ginny thought it'd be best if we didn't arrive together. So I apparated here to wait for a little while."

Ron looked at his friend, puzzled.

"Why?"

"Errr... because they didn't know that we went out together... to have a... private birthday celebration..."

"What does that-" Ron only noticed his face had been scrunched up when it relaxed into a careful, blank state. "I don't want to know, do I?"

The one reprieve was that Harry looked uncomfortable and a little concerned. It made Ron feel better that his friend still cared about his opinion.

Ron shook his head. "What I don't understand is why I always end up hearing about it when you two do these things."

Harry snorted. "As if. Not even one in ten, mate." Then Harry adopted a contrite face when he realised what he had said.

This time, Ron groaned.

"I..." Ron began, but decided against it. "Forget it, let's go inside."

Ron turned to go out of the shed, but Harry stopped him.

"Wait, you're not gonna say anything?"

Ron turned to Harry again. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, your usual? Oh, you better be treating her right, stuff like that."

"Why, aren't you treating her nice?"

"Of course I am!"

"Then why do you need me to remind you of this?"

"I don't need you to remind me!"

"Then we're good."

"Yeah!"

"Alright, then" Ron said, opening his eyes with exaggerated annoyance. "Let's go ins-"

"I love her, Ron."

Ron's senses sharpened, shock mixing with discomfort. Harry looked like he didn't really fancy this conversation either, and yet he persisted.

"I know... I mean, I..." Harry messed up his hair with a hand, then fixed his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "I want you to know that. I love Ginny."

"Why do you want me know?" Ron asked, his voice steady, surprising himself with how calm he sounded.

"Because you're my best friend," Harry said with a mixture of conviction and resignation, as if he didn't want to be saying these things out loud. "Because I'm dating your sister. I want you to know it's serious between us."

Ron's hand went up to rub on his neck, going tenser by the second.

"Does she know?"

"Does she know, what?"

"That you love her."

"Of course! She was the first to know."

"All right," Ron said, at a loss of what else to add.

Silence stretched between them. Ron was considering to turn to go back home, when Harry spoke again.

"So... you don't have to keep warning me I should be good to her. I... want to be good to her."

Ron struggled for a moment with how to answer, finally giving up and choosing to say exactly what was on his mind.

"Fine, okay- I get it. I know why you broke up with her last year and I know that she wouldn't have taken you back if she wasn't okay with that. I also know... I knew you care for her. I just... I don't like to think of those things where she's involved. Or where you're involved, to be honest. All I know is I do care that she is happy just as much as I care you are. That's the only reason I've been giving you a bit of a hard time. But I- I trust you, of course I do."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do you think it's any easier for me? My two best friends are dating and-"

"Dating? I'm not dating her. I love her. Hermione, I mean," Ron added, because it felt like it was important to reciprocate Harry's sharing. "And I think... I think she loves me. She's told me as much."

Saying it out loud like that filled his stomach with butterflies, his eyes open in wonder.

Harry smiled. "I know."

"And I-"

"What's going on in here?"

Ron's head whipped to the shed's door, where his mum had appeared.

"Nothing!" Ron and Harry said.

"We are waiting for you. Hi, Harry, dear. C'mon, let's go. Bring the gift, Ron."

His mum turned to walked away, fully expecting them to follow. Ron and Harry looked at each other, hesitating. Then they smiled, self-conscious and happy over the things they had confessed.

"You were planning to talk to me about this, weren't you?" Ron asked.

"Yeah. I've been meaning to tell you for ages."

Ron rested an arm over Harry's shoulders and they began walking together back home.

The party didn't last long. It had only been family, eating together, then sitting while Ginny opened her gifts. Harry, undoubtedly knowing about the broom, had given Ginny a full set of quidditch robes and a broom maintenance kit. Ginny had been so happy about these gifts, stating she couldn't wait to practice, that Ron couldn't be offended that she didn't seem to like his and Hermione's gift quite as much. He didn't blame her, though. Had it been him, those gifts would have been his favourite, too. Ron and Hermione had given her tickets for a Weird Sisters' concert; when Ron left The Burrow, she and Harry had been talking about whether they wanted to attend the concert in disguise, so as to not being recognized. Ron's last image of Ginny was her laughter at Harry, after she had tried a glamour charm on him that included a long, black beard and an up-turned nose.

Now Ron was in Hermione's house, waiting for her call, smiling at the memory. He sat on the sofa besides the phone, stretching his long limbs. He sighed as he got more comfortable, smiling when the phone rang.

"Hey," Ron said.

"Hi, Ron," her voice greeted him through the handset. And they began talking about their day, as seamlessly as if they had been talking for hours.

"...then my mum asked me to go get Ginny's gift from the shed- she'd had to hide it there because Ginny had been snooping around. But guess what, Harry was there," Ron was saying.

"He was in the shed? Alone? Why?"

"Well," Ron began, "he was hiding there so that my parents wouldn't put two and two together, and know they had spent two hours by themselves before dinner."

"Oh," she said in a tone that told Ron she understood.

"Yeah," Ron confirmed. "He... he told me he loves her."

"He did?!" her voice was more enthusiastic than he had expected. "That's lovely!"

He supposed it was. He smiled. "Yes, it is."

"It is! Two of our favourite people are together and love each other."

"You've wanted them to be together for a long time, haven't you?"

"I have wanted them to be happy for a long time. And they both were that for each other."

"Hermione," Ron said, "are you a romantic at heart?"

She laughed. "Perhaps I am."

They were in silence for a moment.

"I told him that I love you," Ron said in a half-whisper.

"You did?" She asked in the same tone.

"Yeah. I couldn't be any less, could I?"

"I can imagine the two of you being awkward about it, but I still think it's sweet."

"Hell yeah we were awkward," Ron laughed. "We don't really talk about these things. Harry basically said he wanted me to stop telling him to be good to her, and to think of them as a long-term item."

"He must have been thinking about it for a while, then. Or it was really bothering him that you were questioning his intentions."

"I wasn't questioning his intentions! Not now, anyway. I was just... is it so weird that I don't want to think of my sister like that? and Harry, well... it's Harry."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Ron laughed. "I think it means he's like a brother to me so it makes it weird. You've got to admit it's rather convenient we all ended up together."

"You only feel that way because it's Ginny."

"Perhaps," he admitted. "Still. I'm glad we talked, as uncomfortable as it was."

"I don't get it. Why would it be uncomfortable? You're best friends!"

"I don't know! We never talked like that, it's all. I could never tell him I had a massive crush on you, right? And he could never tell me about having a crush on my sister. I think we just never felt all right about talking to each other about it. He told us about Cho when we were all together and you never told us about Krum and me and Lav, well, we... you know."

"Right," Hermione said.

"Right."

"Well, if you and I plan to be together for the long term and they do, too, then I would recommend you get used to the idea. Being able to talk about it would be a plus."

"Ha, ha, very funny."

She laughed. "All right, then, I'll change the subject. Are you ready for tomorrow?"

Yes, he was. He was also very, very nervous.

He was leaving from The Burrow, to give his mum a sense of being included; he hoped it helped her feel less combative about the whole thing. He gave his mum a hug and took his bag, stepping into the fireplace, hoping she wouldn't make a fuss. She didn't. He Floo-ed to the Ministry, where his dad was waiting for him.

With a pat on his shoulder, Ron's dad led him to the office from which his first Portkey was set to depart. They crossed the door into the office, to be met with a desk a short distance from the entrance, a surly witch sitting behind it. Behind her sat a big, circular rug with a tall circular table at its centre.

The clerk asked for Ron's travel permit, which she checked by touching it with the tip of her wand; blue sparkles erupted from its tip.

"Wand," she said, bored, extending her hand to him.

Ron gave it to her, trying to ignore the way his fingers shook. He saw her touch his wand with her own, then reach with her wand to his hand and then to his permit again. Green light shone from it this time.

"You're set. Your wand now is linked to your information," she droned. Ron tried to pay close attention. "We recommend you avoid losing or replacing your wand while abroad. If you miss a Portkey, your wand will become traceable and we will reach out to you. If we cannot contact you, a warrant will be put out for you."

"It's to prevent Dark Wizards from escaping the country and disappearing off the radar," his dad's voice whispered behind him.

"There are three Portkeys on the way there, two for the first part of the return, and one for the last. If you need to change dates or update your permit in any way, you need to contact the local Ministry of Magic. This is a list of addresses for the countries you will be stopping in," the witch said, handing over a piece of parchment.

"Countries...?" Ron's dad began to ask, but Ron folded the parchment and put it in his pocket.

"So what's my first Portkey?" Ron added, so as to not give his dad time to ask any further.

"It's in the back, on the table. It is set for..." she checked her watch, "for four minutes from now."

"Thanks," Ron said, and turned to his dad. "All right, I'm going, then."

"Good luck, Ron. Enjoy your trip, be good, and learn a lot."

"I will, dad."

They hugged. Ron bent to pick up his bag from the floor, and stepped around the desk to the rug.

The trip was a dizzying whirlwind; he barely registered the two stops before he made it to his final destination. He fought to gain his footing as soon as the last cyclonic stage of travel was done, closing his eyes in the hope to contain the queasiness in his stomach. It took him a few seconds, but he found his ground again.

"Documents," a wizard with an accent said.

Ron gave his paperwork to him, who touched it with his wand and gave it back.

"Welcome to Australia," he said, and indicated the way out of the office with a careless flip of the hand.

Ron stepped out of the office and, not two seconds after he had closed the door behind him, he felt two arms loop around his neck. He dropped his bag, which fell to the floor with an airy whooft. His arms went around her waist and he bent his head down to nuzzle at her hair.

"Why don't you kiss me and we make this into a pattern," he suggested. She pulled back only enough to look up at him. "You jump at me and kiss me. Thoughts?"

She laughed and reached up to his mouth, lips to lips. "All right, deal." She stepped backwards as he bent down to pick his bag.

When he straightened up, he saw she was offering a hand to him.

"Ready to go meet my parents?"

AN: YES, your eyes are not deceiving you- there is a new chapter up! I'm sorry it's taken so long, and that this chapter is about 1k shorter than average. The good news is that I mapped the next few chapters and there should be only four chapters left! The bad news is that I'm the busiest I've ever been with adulting and work and studies, so I don't know how long it'll take me to write those four chapters. I'm really hoping that having written down the structure of what's left of this story will help, so please hang in there! I promised I would finish this story AND I WILL. I really appreciate you are still following this fic (or still waiting for this story to end to binge read it all; I know some of you are out there), and I thank you for sticking with me through this. Ok, I'll end now before I get sappy. I hope you liked this chapter!