Time And Tide Waits For No Man

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Robin was waiting in the living room, newspaper propped up on his knees, pipe gripped between his teeth. He'd managed to get rid of Mrs Faggot rather quickly, which left him with spare time on his hands. He'd put it to use preparing supper, chucking last night's meat loaf out (it really had been that terrible) and cleaning up the house. Hermione and Robin had agreed that they (well, she) shouldn't use magic for such small tasks, first, because Hermione always took pride in her handy work, and second, they couldn't afford the neighbours finding out she was a witch.

They had painted the walls themselves; Robin had agreed on Pompeii red for the living room, giving it a warm atmosphere, Hermione had chosen yellow for their room (Robin didn't protest), they'd left the kitchen as they had found it, with white large tiles. Hermione had wanted to paint flowers on them, but once Robin pointed out his Mother had done the same to her kitchen, she dropped the idea immediately shooting him a dark look to warn him he shouldn't make any jokes on her taste. The tension had left once he gave her a smile and a kiss.

Hearing the car pull into the driveway, he folded the newspaper and abandoned it on the couch with the telephone. Putting his pipe out (and opening the window a little to clear off the smoke) he jumped to the front door and opened it just when Hermione was about to step through. He took her suitcase and summer jacket and put them away in the closet. While he did that Hermione had slumped down on the couch, exhausted, hand against her forehead.

"I'm so glad to be back home!" she said just as Robin entered the living room. Crouching down beside her, he unlaced her shoes and put them aside and instead slipped on Hermione's favourite slippers. Robin guessed she'd had those slippers ever since Hogwarts, and hadn't had the heart to throw them out. The green and red striped tissue was a little ripped at the back, they were slightly to large for her, but they were still going strong.

Robin sat next to his wife and enveloped her in a hug, which she returned gratefully. "Missed you honey," he told her.

"What's for supper?" she asked, "I can smell something good cooking." Hermione sniffed the air, her small nose twitching slightly. She went to get up, but Robin still had his arms around her waste and brought her back down on his lap. He had to brush away Hermione's heavy locks to place a kiss on her neck.

"It won't be ready for another hour or so," he told her kindly.

"Is that so?" She arched an eyebrow, suggestion in her voice. She let him explore her neck with butterfly kisses. "That gives me time enough to... have a SHOWER!"

Robin groaned as Hermione escaped his grasp and skipped to the bedroom's bathroom. He soon heard the water running and Hermione's singing and whistling under the water. He was the one that had taught her how to whistle. He soon got up to close the open window, not before something managed to catch his eye in the back garden.

The sun was now descending behind the horizon, the garden washed in shadow. However, it was still light enough for Robin to make out the outlines of a man next to the back garden's small white metal gate. Robin squinted.

"Who's there?" he asked. Just as he blinked, the figure was gone, the garden was left empty.

He was just a muggle, but he didn't need to be a wizard either to know that something strange was about.

"Honey?" called Robin as he stepped into their room, noticing Hermione's discarded clothes. He picked them up and dropped them in the washing basket before making his way to the bathroom. "Hermione?"

"Yes honey?" She was still in the bathtub, the flowery plastic curtain drawn around her.

"There was someone stalking in the back garden."

Hermione's head popped out from between the curtains, her long brown hair dripping wet, soaking the bathroom mat at the side of the tub as she leaned over. "What?" she asked in alarm.

"There was someone stalking in the back garden," repeated Robin watching Hermione's face dissolve in worry.

"Give me my towel?" she asked; Robin handed it over. She disappeared back behind the curtain before stepping out carefully, still soapy, the towel wrapped around her body. She rushed out from the bathroom and back to the sitting room. She took a peek outside before walking towards the front door, opening it promptly and gazing at the several talismans that hung just over the 'Welcome' mat, above her head. Robin soon joined her, wrapping another towel around her shoulders as Hermione fingered the metal figures that were dangling.

"This one is for the protection ward," she reminded Robin, fiddling with a five-point star inscribed in a circle. "It still seems to be functioning. See how it turns green?" And indeed, it had a faint green glimmer to it, just faintly visible in the obscurity of the house's front porch. "And the pouch is untouched." Among the trinkets and protection charms was a small purple bag that held different magical herbs that Robin could hardly pronounce. It was meant to keep dark creatures away, that he knew.

"Good evening Mr and Mrs Wilson!" called Mr Gardener, waving from the house's driveway as he walked his pet.

Hermione suddenly realised that she was still dripping wet and only in a towel. She blushed, but she decided that she wouldn't transform into a mumbling fool.

"Good evening Mr Gardener," she called back, her voice steady, it even had a trace of amusement. Robin felt otherwise as he pulled Hermione back in and closed the door sharply.

"So?" asked Robin.

She shook her head. "False alert," declared Hermione, returning to the bathroom with steady strides. "It must have been a muggle trespassing or something."

Robin sighed in relief, but not without keeping a trace of worry. "Sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions so quickly."

Hermione smiled sweetly. "It's normal, we can never be too sure. Like my old Auror Tutor used to say: Constant VIGILANCE!" She taken up a bossy, manly voice, smirking as she imitated Old Mad Eye Moody. This brought out a smile on Robin's face. He remembered the chap from the wedding, and he'd said the same thing to him. "You watch out, lad, marriage is a tricky and dangerous thing. Remember, Constant Vigilance or you'll find Granger wanting kids before tomorrow!" Robin had thought that it had been a joke from the old man back then.

He took Hermione's soapy hand in his and kissed it, she beamed in response between the locks of tangled hair that clung to her face. He admired her under the sitting room's light, her skin gleaming wet from the shower.

"See anything you like?" asked Hermione, pleased with the attention she was receiving from her husband, coffee brown eyes sparkling.

Robin grimaced.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"Soap, in my mouth?" Robin let her go and headed to the kitchen gulping water and then spitting it out into the sink, washing the chemical taste away.

"You just spoiled the moment, honey!" sing-songed Hermione.

Robin emerged bright faced from the kitchen, hands up in surrender. "I confess. This was planned!"

Before Hermione knew what was happening, she was tackled by two strong arms and heaved over Robin's shoulder, head upside down. She trashed a little, swiping at Robin's arse.

"Put me down muggle boy! Or I'll transfigure you into a toad!" yelled Hermione threateningly.

"Or, I'm not afraid of you, witch!" declared Robin, transporting her back to the bathroom. "I'm having my way with you!" He pulled the tub's curtains open and settled Hermione down, not before spraying her with water from the shower head, towel and all. "I'll wash you myself if it's the only way to kiss you!"

"Oh, stop being such a man and join me!"

So Robin did, steeping in with Hermione, letting his clothes drench with water as he settled down with her. His clothes were the least of his worries though as he claimed Hermione's mouth, enjoying the feel of her body against his. They were soon out of breath and Robin finally sat down between Hermione's legs and let his head fall back against her chest, looking up fondly into her eyes.

"Do you know why I was so worried earlier?" he asked. Hermione waited patiently for him to tell her, knowing that he had to get his thoughts out of his system. "Because if we're attacked with magic, and wizards and such..." He sucked in some air, letting his hand stroke Hermione's cheek tenderly. "I know that I won't be able to fight back. I'll be useless, and I won't be able to stop them hurting you," he confessed.

Hermione smiled warmly. "That's sweet, Robin. But this mustn't stop you from living, you know that. Don't let feat control you, you're strong."

He nodded, in understanding. He knew that the world wasn't safe, that Hermione, even since the death of the Dark Lord of theirs, could still be a target of dark forces; for she still was the emblematic friend of Harry Potter, The-Man-That-Destroyed-You-Know-Who, and a very renown fighter of the Light side during the Second War, being the smart witch that she was.

He had encountered a Death Eater, once, and he had been frightened shitless. First stupefied, he was immobilised. The feeling of helplessness had scared him the most. He hadn't been hit by an unforgivable though, Aurors had saved him in the nick of time. The memory was still an unpleasant one. He had taken several Dreamless Droughts after that.

"I'm sorry, Robin, for the trouble I've brought upon you," said Hermione, sincerely.

"Don't be," he whispered back. "I would have done it a thousand times if it meant being able love you for just one day."

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. "That's cheesy, Robin."

"Doesn't mean I think any less!" he protested.

Hermione took to threading her fingers through Robin's strands of light brown-wet- hair. "That's better." She kissed him on the forehead.

"You know what?"

"What?" said Hermione.

"Don't know why I have it in my head, but it seems to fit: Time and Tide waits for no man. It won't stop us from being happy, and together. If it comes, it will come. Until then, lets live."

Hermione fell a little silent for a while as Robin made himself comfortable. "It was Harry's favourite quote," she told him softly, under her breath. She smiled faintly, remembering the old days. "He would usually say it once or twice a day."

"You miss him terribly, don't you?" Robin knew how big a part Harry had played in Hermione's life, she'd cared about him so much, probably more than she had even did for him. Every time she would mention him, Robin could only feel respect towards the deceased man, even though he had never had the occasion to meet Harry, only hear about him through those that had known him.

Hermione nodded. "Everyday," she confessed. "But I'm not angry or sour about it," she explained seeing in her mind's eye her dark haired friend, the way he would laugh, or how his green eyes would sparkle when he was truly happy. She looked at Robin, feeling glad that he could understand her and tolerate her babbling about Harry. Ron had never excepted it, how she would talk about Harry so openly, and so often, because of his own natural jealousy and of how he had never overcome the pain of losing his best friend. She felt free to do so with Robin, he even enjoyed it, sharing some of her pain and love for the man Harry had been.

She kissed Robin, letting her hand wonder under his shirt, feeling heat spreading from belly button and then outwards, eager for her husband to love her. Robin returned it more than willingly.

Across the street, the dark form stood still as a statue, watching the small house with the purple shutters, examining every inch with an unknown purpose. He noticed the ward's talismans dangling from the porch, tinkling in the small breeze that had settled over the cluster of houses.

"Time waits for no man," he whispered.

Harry, even though he died, will be more present that you might think! He can disappear completely, he still stays amongst the living, in thought...