Day One

The morning of her wedding Hermione was up long before the sun rose. Nerves kept her tossing and turning most of the night. One second she would be absolutely convinced she was making the right decision and the next she was half-tempted to call it all off. There was so much at stake. If she didn't hold a man's freedom in her hands, she might have been unable to go through with it.

But she didn't want to disappoint him. They really had grown close over the three years of exchanging letters. At least she liked to think so. If he really had changed since the days he committed the crimes that got him locked up in prison, she wanted to help him get a fresh start. And if they happened to fall desperately in love, that would just be a wonderful bonus.

She put on a nice, but very simple dress. It wasn't new nor extravagant. As tempting as it was to go shopping for the frilliest, finest wedding dress she could find, she knew it would be silly. Theirs would be a marriage of convenience. It was entirely possible that they wouldn't even like each other when they met. Acting as if she was a bride in love would be embarrassing. She had more pride than that.

Two other women waited on the shore for the boat to take them to Azkaban when she arrived. If they were there to get married too, she had no idea. None of them spoke. It was all terribly awkward. The boat ride to the fortress in the middle of the North Sea took longer than she expected. With the rocking of the small boat by the waves, she feared she would throw up. What a beautiful bride she would make then! Never had she been more thankful to be on solid ground than when she stepped onto the stone walkway to the entrance to the prison.

Justin waited for her just inside the front door. His opinion on the matter was still written all over his face. There likely would never be a day when he would approve of her actions. She could live with that if everything turned out like she hoped it would. He had a kind soul. Eventually he would forgive her, especially if she turned out to be very happy.

"The officiant is running a few minutes late, but your groom is waiting inside for you if you wanted to have a few minutes alone. Maybe you could properly introduce yourself to the man before you bind your life to his."

Just outside the warden's office the urge to throw up returned. Evidently it hadn't been completely due to the waves. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she was that nervous. As she reached for the doorknob to see just who was waiting for her on the other side, her hands wouldn't stop shaking. She forced herself to take a deep breath, remember she was a Gryffindor for a reason, and open the damned door.

Only one person waited for her inside. Though she knew it was terribly shallow to think so, she nearly sighed in relief when she saw that he was handsome. Part of her feared that he would be old and ugly and no matter how lovely his letters had been, she would be unable to look past those facts. But, her husband-to-be wasn't grotesque or hideous. He was older than her by probably at least twenty years. Thanks to wizarding genes that regularly allowed those with magic to live well over one hundred years, he didn't seem so old.

He was tall, but not overly so, and lean. His collar length black hair was streaked with grey on the sides. It gave him something of a distinguished air. He had a beard likewise streaked with grey that he kept neatly trimmed. She didn't recognize him by sight alone, something that put her fears somewhat at ease. If he was a Death Eater as she expected, he didn't appear to be one that attacked her enough times to remember his face.

When he saw her step inside and close the door, his hazel eyes widened in surprise. He didn't say a word as he stood up from the chair. Suddenly Hermione felt very self-conscious. Was she a disappointment to him? She knew she wasn't a great beauty and many would even call her plain, but she didn't think she was hideous or disgusting. If a man who had been locked up in prison for years didn't want her, who would?

"I didn't know you were that young!"

His bright smile put her more at ease. Perhaps she misunderstood his surprised facial expression. The smile remained firmly affixed to his face, a good sign.

"What were you expecting?"

His chuckles and his embarrassed grin were endearing. She could feel herself on the verge of smiling too.

"An eighty year old spinster with a love for too many cats and horribly sappy romance novels."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at that.

"Oh, dear. I hope I'm not a great disappointment then if that's what you were expecting."

When he smiled again, she could barely breathe. It was warm, inviting, and completely transformed his entire face. Was he the sort of man to be quick to smile? She desperately hoped so.

"No. Not at all. This is a very pleasant surprise."

Her cheeks flushed at his confession and she was suddenly embarrassed for a different reason than when she first entered the room.

"You're far more than a worthless old Death Eater like me deserves."

There was no opportunity for her to respond even if she knew what she would say, which she didn't. The door opened to admit Justin and an annoyed looking wizard she assumed must be the officiant there to perform their wedding. Without even being instructed, she and her groom moved across the room to stand next to each other. Hermione's sleeve brushed up against his. The fluttering in her stomach was different but no less powerful than the feeling she had when the boat was sailing over the violent waves. If she couldn't make it through her own wedding ceremony without getting ill, she would never be able to recover from that humiliation.

"I don't see any reason to delay this any longer. Do you take this man to be your lawful husband, miss?"

So startled was she by the abruptness of the officiant's speech, Hermione almost missed the beginning of the binding ceremony. Had he said the groom's name? She didn't think so.

"Yes, I do."

"And do you take this woman to be your lawful wife?"

"Yes, of course."

Perhaps sensing her nerves, her groom offered her another encouraging smile. It helped. At the very least she could control her stomach.

"The rings?"

Justin stepped forward. He handed a ring to each of them. The officiant ordered her to put a ring on his finger. She still didn't even know his name as she slid the plain gold band she'd purchased a few days earlier onto the proper finger. When the order was barked at her groom to do the same, he had a beautiful diamond ring for her. Far more extravagant than she would've expected from a man who had been locked in prison for so many years, she was shocked. Seemingly a little embarrassed, he shrugged his shoulders.

"It was my mother's."

A lot could be learned about his family just by looking at his mother's wedding ring. Did he come from money? He must have. There wasn't time to think much more about his past. The officiant cast a spell intended to bind them together. She knew to expect it, but hadn't the first clue what it would feel like. Every cell in her body seemed to warm up in a delightful manner. Almost like being wrapped in a warm blanket, she felt content and safe. She stared at his face to see if he was feeling the same way. His smile seemed to indicate he was. Assuming, of course, he wasn't just a talented liar like Justin feared.

"You may kiss your bride."

Still not even knowing the man's name, Hermione couldn't believe it was almost over. Had she been completely foolish and ridiculous? One glance at his shy smile as he leaned his head in closer to hers dispelled the last of her fear. His lips pressed against hers in a very chaste, but still quite sweet way.

"I trust I don't have to explain in great detail how the binding spell is fully activated."

Hermione wished she had some control over the expressions on her face or how her cheeks continued to flush. Yes, of course they both knew how the marriage bond was sealed and activated. There was a valid reason why so many witches and wizards described their wedding night as 'magical'. It was. She'd read all about it before. Some of her married friends were even kind enough to explain what it really felt like. It all sounded amazing. When she suggested they wait at least thirty days, it was because she didn't want to have to worry about the potential repercussions of breaking the bond later. It was possible even if it wasn't ideal. The officiant sighed, clearly frustrated that he was there at all.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange. I wish you a lifetime of happiness. Now kindly step outside so I can get the next wedding over with."

Nothing about what he said was in the least bit sincere. That might have annoyed Hermione if she wasn't stuck on what he said before. Lestrange? She knew she heard him right. Her new husband was one of the notorious Lestrange brothers? Oh dear. What had she gotten herself into?

Her husband gently took her arm to lead her out of the office. There indeed was another nervous couple waiting outside the door for their own unforgettable ceremony. Any other time she might have been curious enough to stare closely at the faces, but she could hardly think beyond the word 'Lestrange'. Over and over again it echoed in her head.

Justin took them over to a desk outside of the office to sign the register to make it all official in the legal sense. Daring to finally take a peek, Hermione stared at 'Rabastan Regnault Lestrange' written next to 'Hermione Jean Granger'. She nearly laughed. At least he wasn't the brother married to Bellatrix. That was something, wasn't it?

Rabastan didn't hesitate to sign his name. If her name gave him the same pause, he was skilled enough with concealing his facial expressions to keep from showing it. That was until he tried to hand her the quill and she didn't immediately take it. His pleased grin began to slip and he looked embarrassed. Was he worried that she was regretting accepting his proposal? He seemed so nervous, so worried she was about to reject him.

She took the quill out of his hand to confidently sign her name with a flourish. When she agreed to marry him, she knew he would be a Death Eater and it likely wouldn't be easy or simple. Going back on her promise at that stage would be cowardly and wrong. Rabastan was beaming when she stood back up. Clearly he was relieved. Only Justin's frustrated heavy sigh was enough to threaten to dampen their moods.

"I hope you both know what you are doing."

A Ministry official approached them when Justin walked away. There were a number of terms and conditions required to grant Rabastan parole. Hermione read all of the literature that Justin forwarded to her, but there had been a lot. A silver ring was placed on the wrist of Rabastan's wand arm. There was no way to remove it without the Ministry casting the proper spell. The official handed him a new wand.

"This wand is monitored. Every single spell you cast will be kept on a log that will be checked daily by the Ministry. This ring will prevent you from being able to use any other wand than the one we have provided. If an attempt is made to cast magic with another wand, that will be logged as well. Aurors will be dispatched immediately to your current location to see what is happening. If they deem it necessary to take you into custody, they will. There will be frequent home visits to ensure the program is being followed correctly."

On and on the official explained what was expected of them both. Hermione had just as much responsibility to ensure her new husband didn't break the laws as he did. Knowing that she could be sentenced to Azkaban herself for her husband violating his parole made it all that much more serious. She could understand why Justin was hesitant to help her, but she had to believe that she knew Rabastan from his letters to know he wouldn't make her regret what she'd done.

As soon as the official finished, he announced they were free to take a boat back to the mainland. The relieved sigh that came out of her husband was proof that he was anxious to get out of there as soon as possible. Not that Hermione could blame him in the slightest. She'd only been in a tiny part of the fortress and hated every second. There was a chill in the air that she didn't think had anything to do with the actual weather. Was it even possible to remove all traces of hundreds of years of dementors taking up residence on the island? Somehow she doubted they would ever get the last bit of their influence out of the walls.

Both of them were clearly nervous as they headed for the boat, but they tried not to make it noticeable. A tiny voice in the back of her head worried that he was about to tell her that he'd changed his mind. A lifetime in an Azkaban cell was preferable to sharing a life with her. She tried to push those unhelpful thoughts out of her mind. How long would it take her to feel more confident? Insecurity was sadly something she'd been struggling with her entire life.

Rabastan was kind enough to help her into the waiting boat. It was still rocking in the waves even at the dock. She hoped that she wouldn't feel sick again. How embarrassing would it be to have her new husband see her throw up over the side of the boat? With no other passengers waiting for a return trip yet, they were alone with only the wizard in charge of piloting the boat. He didn't waste any time getting it moving once they were seated.

They were silent as they headed back to shore. When she looked at her husband's face, she could see him staring at the prison. A heavy sigh was filled with an emotion she thought she could understand. It must have been a difficult, yet encouraging, moment to leave the place he was supposed to remain for the rest of his life. She didn't give it much thought when she reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his. It was part of her job as his wife to offer her what support she could in trying times. He was startled by the gesture, but the small grin on his lips seemed to prove that he was pleased. Perhaps realizing focusing on the prison wasn't the best use of his time, he turned his full attention on to her. He didn't release her hand.

"Anywhere is better than the cell I just left, but where do you live? What is it like?"

Hermione smiled even as she felt a little embarrassed that her home wasn't very special. Though it was kept tidy and it was definitely cozy, it was simple and small.

"Do you remember Flourish and Blotts?"

He nodded.

"Well, I own it."

She wasn't sure she would get used to his bright smiles any time soon. They kept making her stomach flutter.

"I had no idea. I thought you worked for the Ministry."

"I did, but about a year ago, I brought the shop on an impulse."

"That's quite an impulse."

"Yes, and some days I worry I made a terrible mistake. It can all be very overwhelming."

He squeezed her hand.

"I imagine it could be, especially alone."

There was an awkward silence after his comment. She didn't know what to say to that. Of course he was correct, but she didn't want to admit it. Realizing he might have said too much, Rabastan cleared his throat and tried to change the subject to something less fraught with emotions.

"I suppose that explains how you were able to lend me so many wonderful books. I just assumed you had an extensive collection."

"Oh, well, I do, but I also happen to own a book shop too."

His smile made her feel nervous. Not scared, definitely not scared, but nervous.

"I live in the flat above the shop. I'm sorry to say it might not be much bigger than your cell."

Sometimes she spoke without thinking her words through carefully. Whether it was a Gryffindor trait or one she picked up all on her own, she didn't know. Worried at first that she shouldn't have said that, she calmed down when he laughed. It was a pleasant sound, one she hoped to hear more of.

"I'm sure it is lovely."

The closer they got to the shore, the easier it was to see a large group of people waiting for the boat at the dock. None of them were there when she left for the island. Confused, she asked the wizard piloting the boat. He hadn't spoken a single word since they climbed into the vessel.

"A bunch of blood-sucking reporters found out that there are inmates being paroled today. They've come to see for themselves who is leaving the prison."

Hearing that explanation, Hermione felt nervous. She hadn't told anyone other than Justin what she was planning to do. It was her perhaps naïve hope that the few friends she had would be eased into the idea before she had to tell them the full truth. Only Luna ever knew that she had a penpal in Azkaban. It didn't look like it would be possible to slowly introduce her friends to the idea. If she knew the reporters like she feared she did, her face would be all over the front page the next morning. When she looked over at Rabastan, he looked nervous too. She could only imagine what thoughts were going through his head.

"I'm sorry my presence in your life will likely complicate it."

"It will all be fine. They will lose interest soon and go on to pester someone else."

She sounded a great deal more confident than she actually felt. Especially when she saw the familiar lime-green robes she was afraid she would see. Knowing Rita Skeeter was on that shore made her stomach churn and she feared she would be sick after all. There was no way they would make it through unnoticed if Rita was there. Hermione lowered her voice to whisper to her new husband.

"And I'm sorry Skeeter hates me so much. She won't go easy on us, I'm afraid."

There was no delaying the inevitable, no way to avoid discovery. Once the boat was brought up alongside the dock, Rabastan climbed out to offer Hermione a hand. Cameras were loudly going off all around them as he helped her out of the boat. The only sound Hermione heard, unfortunately, was the amused laughter coming out of Rita.

"I suppose it makes sense that you had to resort to digging through the bowels of Azkaban to find a man willing to marry you, Miss Granger. Oh, excuse me, I suppose that's now Mrs. Lestrange."

If there hadn't been so many witnesses, Hermione was tempted to curse the woman straight in her obnoxious face. Would she never get over her grudge? How many years would have to pass before she stopped hating Hermione? When she didn't get the response that she wanted, Rita changed tactics. Let no one ever accuse her of being subtle.

"And just what do you think your late father would think of you bringing a Muggle-Born into your family, Rabby? I don't think he would be pleased."

Though she didn't say the actual word she meant, it was clear what Rita was trying to imply. It was hardly a surprise to Hermione to know that she'd married into a family of blood purists. Most members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight had their own feelings about the importance of being a Pureblood whether or not they were willing to say it out loud. With known Death Eaters in the Lestrange family, including the wretched Bellatrix that she now had to think of as her sister-in-law with a private laugh, it wasn't unreasonable to assume that her father-in-law wouldn't have wanted her to marry her son because she had Muggle parents. Likely he would've even looked down on her for no other reason than she couldn't boast of generations of witches and wizards in her family tree. Rabastan wasn't about to ignore the hateful reporter even if his wife wished that he would.

"Leave us alone, Rita. This is none of your business."

"I beg to differ. Thanks to Minister Shacklebolt's newest and most insane program to date, I now have to worry about dangerous Death Eaters on the loose again."

"I have no intention of causing any trouble, but…" Rabastan lowered his voice to a whisper. "If you harass or harm my wife in any way, I'll gladly risk Azkaban again to make you pay."

"I'm not scared of you."

But it was clear she was nervous. Rabastan smiled. Unlike the smiles he'd offered Hermione multiple times that morning, that one was cold and reminded anyone who looked at him that he could be a dangerous man if prompted. It was unsettling even if it meant the world to her to know he was only threatening her to ensure his wife was left alone.

"Just leave us alone and we'll leave you alone."

Rabastan led Hermione away from the group by the hand. The further away they got, the bolder Rita got with her taunting laughter. There was no question she would be a problem in the days to come. The only question was how much. As soon as they were far enough away to safely Disapparate, she took her husband's arm to Side-Along Apparate him to their new shared home.

It was evident he was much calmer when they arrived in Diagon Alley. Most of the shops weren't open yet so there were no shoppers milling about.

"I'm so sorry. She's hated me ever since I kept her in an unbreakable jar for weeks when I was a teenager."

For a few seconds Rabastan didn't dare to blink as he took in what she just said. Right as she was worried he would think less of her, he burst out into loud laughter.

"I would love to hear that story in great detail at some point."

She nodded her agreement with a smile. It was a fascinating tale after all. Actually staring up at the shop his wife owned for the first time, Rabastan had a wistful smile. No doubt it was a part of his childhood too. It seemed that everyone had memories about Flourish and Blotts.

"It looks just the same."

"I know. I wasn't sure what to do to the outside."

"Fresh paint, but same colors. Tug at your customers' nostalgic feelings."

He was so confident and matter of fact with his suggestion she couldn't keep from smiling. She thought he was right. For the year that she owned the shop, she felt too overwhelmed with what happened on the inside to worry much about the exterior. Would he be willing to help her with some of the other odious tasks and decisions she'd been pushing off to the side?

"Now, if this is our home and it's our wedding day, tradition dictates I must carry you over the threshold."

Never expecting those words to come out of his mouth, Hermione laughed. She didn't think he was serious until she saw his cheeky grin.

"That tradition only came into existence because it was thought to be bad luck if a bride tripped entering the house for the first time. I can assure you that I am very comfortable entering this building without falling."

"Maybe so, but we better not risk it."

In one swift motion, he had her held in his arms. Clearly determined to get his way whether she liked it or not, Hermione gave in with a laugh. The shop wasn't open yet for customers, so she used her wand to unlock and open the front door. Rabastan carried her inside laughing, pleased that she wouldn't accidentally trip and doom their marriage right from the start. Once they were inside, she playfully slapped his chest and demanded to be set down on her feet.

She didn't notice Nicholas staring at them until she looked up. The manager's eyes were narrowed at the confusing scene. Nervous again like she was at the shore, Hermione cleared her throat.

"Good morning, Nicholas. This is Rabastan Lestrange. He'll be staying with me in the flat upstairs."

Nicholas' eyes narrowed even more, but he nodded. Without saying a word, he returned to behind the counter to keep preparing for the shop to open soon. It was all very awkward and uncomfortable.

Wanting to get as far away from the wizard as possible, she reached for the door next to the office that led to a narrow flight of stairs. Until she bought the shop, he didn't know it existed. Neither of them spoke as they climbed the stairs. Did he feel as unnerved by their interaction with Nicholas as she did? She worried about how her few staff members would take the news of her marriage. Honestly, she hadn't even given them much thought at all when she was making her plans. It was her personal life and none of their business. Somehow she didn't think they would all see it that way.

When she pushed open the door to her flat, she was nervous and worried for a different reason. To be truthful, she was a little embarrassed by her home. She wasn't that morning when she left it, but knowing that he grew up in a fancy manor, it didn't feel adequate any longer. Sure, he might claim he loved it just to pacify her. That didn't mean she would believe him. The second he stepped inside to get a better look, he started to chuckle.

"It's not much."

"It's wonderful. This is exactly what I imagined your home would look like, minus all the cats, of course."

She laughed. At least he sounded like he meant it. Would she always be second-guessing every word he said? Hopefully not. That would get tiresome.

"No cats, I'm afraid. I'm not opposed to them, but I lost my half-kneazle during the war and I just haven't had the heart to replace him."

"You never do replace them. Not really. There's always a part of you that misses them even when you get a new one."

He shrugged his shoulders with a smile.

"I like cats. My father said I had too many kittens and my brother Roddy had too many dogs. I miss them."

There's still so much about him she didn't know. While their letters often dipped into discussion about their deepest goals and fears and dreams, there was very little ever mentioned about their families and pasts. It was easier to keep from divulging too much and at least for Hermione, she found it a painful subject to discuss. Likely he did too.

"And you're wrong, you know. This is much bigger than my cell in Azkaban. That sofa looks big enough that I can fully stretch out on it. That's more than the cell offered."

He was being kind and she appreciated it. Feeling less ashamed of her home, Hermione gave him the tour. It didn't take long. There really wasn't much beyond a main room that was combination lounge, dining room, and kitchen. Two bedrooms and one bathroom took up the rest of the space.

His smirk when she showed him into the spare bedroom that would be his for at least the next thirty days made her feel a little nervous again. The wizard had an odd effect on her that wasn't entirely comfortable. When she pointed out his bed and told him that she just washed the linens, the smirk morphed into a full grin. She knew what he was thinking or rather, she hoped she did. How humiliating would it be to find out her new husband had no desire to share a bed with her?

The shop bell downstairs was loud enough that they could hear it in the flat. Nicholas must have unlocked the front door for the customers that would be coming in. It was likely to be a busy day. A new novel that many of her regulars were anxiously awaiting would be available for the first time to purchase.

"I should get downstairs and help."

"All right. I suppose I should do some shopping myself. There's not a lot that I own beyond a box of letters I cherish that I've been assured will be delivered soon. Even these robes are borrowed."

Hermione didn't like the thought of him going into the shopping district alone. While it was perfectly acceptable under the terms of his parole, it made her nervous. What if he was just looking for an excuse to bolt? But she supposed it would be best to find that out sooner rather than later.

"Are you sure?"

"Best to get it done before everyone knows who I am again and that I'm out. Most won't recognize me behind this beard."

"I like the beard."

She touched it without thinking. As soon as her fingers brushed against the hair on his face, Rabastan grinned. It could be seen as an intimate touch. She really should be more careful.

"Then it's staying put."

Remembering it wasn't entirely appropriate, she pulled her hand back.

"Do you need any money?"

"Thank you, but don't fear that I've become your kept man. I have a Gringotts vault. I believe you've even been inside it before."

He winked. Remembering the specific and harrowing circumstances which put her in his family's vault during the war, she felt embarrassed. That was surely a conversation that would need to come up at some point.

"Now that you're my wife you don't have to go to extreme methods to get inside it next time. You can just ask the goblins to escort you."

When he winked again, she felt the awkward tension in the air. Being alone with him would take some getting used to. Hearing the shop bell again, she made an excuse to rush downstairs to the shop. If he knew what sort of effect he was having on her, he had the decency to keep it to himself.

Thankfully, the rest of the day passed swiftly. Just as she expected there was a steady stream of customers coming in and out of the door all day. Being busy kept her from worrying too much that she'd made a terrible mistake. She married Rabastan Lestrange. How did that happen? Each time she thought she might have made a mistake, she remembered his beautiful letters. It was possible for people to change, right?

With the shop closed and her staff left for the day, Hermione knew that she had to go upstairs to her flat, but she was very nervous. Unsure what to expect, her mind travelled to all of the worst-case scenarios. What if Justin was right and he just manipulated her with his pretty words to get out of Azkaban? As soon as she thought that, she knew she was wrong. They'd been writing to each other for three years before the parole program was announced. She needed to have more faith in people and stop listening to all of the critics. It was her life, not theirs.

She felt more confidence with each stair she climbed. This was what she wanted, what she dreamed about when she lay awake in the middle of the night in her cold, empty bed thinking about the man in Azkaban. If she continued to second-guess her decisions, there might come a day when she destroyed everything she ever desired. There was only one opportunity to make it all work. Wasting a second was wrong.

Rabastan stood in her kitchen preparing the evening meal. Completely surprised by that strange turn of events, she smiled. Her husband turned around when he heard the door open with a smile of greeting of his own.

"You can cook?"

"I could cook, but it's been a long time. I apologize if this doesn't turn out well."

"I'm sure I will have no complaints."

"You say that now, but…"

He winked again and turned back to his cooking. Wishing to get out of the starched dress that had grown more uncomfortable with each passing moment that day, Hermione went into her bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. As she passed the open door to the spare room, she saw his bed piled high with boxes and bags from shops all over the Alley. It was no wonder he had been gone for so long. Part of her hadn't calmed down until she saw him reenter her shop with his hands full. Maybe she would always worry a little bit that he was running away.

Her timing couldn't have been more perfect if she tried. Just as she stepped out of her bedroom dressed in a baggy jumper and a pair of trousers that were just a small step above being pajamas, Rabastan was putting plates on the table. He smiled when he saw her dressed so casually. Sensing an opportunity to tease him about his posh past, she took it.

"Should I have dressed for dinner? Maybe put on my formal dress robes?"

Rabastan made a dramatic show of looking around the room before winking that infernal wink she was growing to love already.

"I don't see my late father anywhere in this flat so I'll say 'no'. Never cared much for that custom. Wear whatever makes you comfortable in your own home."

Dinner was nice, if a little awkward. It was evident that both of them were nervous. There was hope that it wouldn't always be that way. Never had they struggled to find words when they were writing letters, but they needed to be patient. Everything changed once they were face to face. It was a strange situation they found themselves in.

Conversation was unfortunately stilted. With so much they would eventually need to talk about, neither of them knew where to start. Too much too soon would make it all that much worse. If they were truly going to try to make their marriage work in the long-term, there would be plenty of time to discuss everything. No need to do it all at once. They kept the topics to a discussion of where he went when he left the shop and he was very interested in learning more about the shop downstairs.

"Because you were generous enough to cook dinner, which was delicious by the way, I'll clean up."

Hermione stood up from the table to start gathering the dirty dishes when they were finished. Before she could even get an adequate stack, Rabastan was already on his feet too to help.

"We'll do it together. It'll go faster that way and I'm not ready to walk away from you just yet."

It was embarrassing that she had yet to learn how to control her face's flushes. Each time she knew her cheeks turned a vibrant red color, the wizard smirked. Clearly he liked what was happening.

Cleaning up the kitchen was a little easier than sharing their first meal. Or maybe they were just getting gradually more used to the other. Excited to be able to use magic again, even if he was being continuously monitored by the Ministry of Magic, Rabastan cast every single cleansing spell he could think of to get the dishes washed and put away. The simple act of being together in the tiny kitchen performing such domestic acts made Hermione happier than she expected.

With the last dish in its proper place and no other chores left undone, they became aware how close they stood to the other in the small space. Thinking that it would be best for her to try to put some distance between them before she embarrassed herself further that night, she wasn't even one step away when Rabastan took her hand. He seemed to be the sort of man that valued physical touch. Being locked in an Azkaban cell for nearly eleven years in just his latest stretch of imprisonment starved him for human interaction. She could understand that very well even if she hadn't technically been locked up in a prison. His smile made her nervous in a very good way.

"You know, it's our wedding night."

Her heart started to pound against her chest. Such a simple true statement could have her rethinking all of her decisions in just seconds. Even though it had been a truly bizarre day and they made an agreement to wait, she was very tempted to drag him into her bedroom and officially make it theirs. Because there was a strong possibility they could come to regret making a rash decision, she knew she had to keep her head straight. She sighed. Being an adult was rarely easy and often not very much fun at all.

"Yes, it is, but we both agreed to wait a month."

It was his turn to sigh, but his smile never left his face for even a moment.

"I know. If it helps, I only agreed to that when I still believed there was a chance you might be old enough to be my mum."

She couldn't keep from laughing. He had been the bratty sort of child to always get his way. That was evident just by the way he smirked and said what he wanted out loud when most wouldn't be so obvious.

"But you still agreed. Thirty days. If we can still stand the sight of each other after that, then we can discuss having a proper wedding night."

"That's a long time to wait. How about a compromise?"

Her heart was still pounding in her chest. His smile was infectious. Who would've guessed he would have that sort of effect on her? Part of her was ready to throw away all of her concerns for the Hermione in the future to worry about later. Something told her that she wouldn't forget a night with the wizard. What could satisfy them both in the form of a compromise that wouldn't immediately lead to clothes being ripped off bodies and binding spells activating before they were truly ready?

"Kiss me good morning. Just a kiss. Every morning."

If it was possible, his smile grew larger. Still holding her hand in his, he began to slowly close the distance between them. He would be the death of her, she was certain. Her heart-rate increased.

"I didn't kiss you good morning this morning when I first saw you. I wanted to, but I didn't."

"You kissed me when we got married."

"Doesn't count. That was to seal the vows and it was proper and boring."

"Our first kiss was boring?" She teased. "How lovely."

"Like I said, that one didn't count. Give me the chance to make it more memorable."

He didn't expect an audible response to his request. If he had, she wasn't sure she would've been able to form the coherent answer if her life depended on it. His free hand slid across her cheek to rest on the back of her head. A gentle tug brought her lips against his. In no rush to do more than just feel her lips, he didn't move at first. Afraid to close her eyes lest it all turn out to be a pleasant dream, Hermione could see that he was nervous. Perhaps only a matter of seconds passed before he discovered the courage that he needed to move his mouth against hers in a searing kiss she felt all the way down to her toes. There was an art to kissing that not everyone took the time to appreciate or understand. Once upon a time, Rabastan had evidently been a master. He didn't push her, just gently encouraged the opening of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. She saw no reason not to comply. From beginning to end, it was perfection. He had another bright grin on his face when they broke apart.

"Definitely not boring."

"No, definitely not."

No longer trusting herself, Hermione excused herself to go to bed before she forgot their agreement. It had been a long day and she was exhausted. Any further distractions, she didn't know what she would do. Likely something she couldn't take back.

"Good night, Rabastan."

"Good night, wife."

Her cheeks flushed at the simple word. It would take some getting used to hearing. She could still hear his soft chuckles when she closed her bedroom door.