Hermione Granger smiled and danced around the laboratory as her master rolled his eyes. The potion she had developed worked. It was unique. She hadn't used a previous potion as a base. Her future was at hand.

"It will have to be tested on a larger scale, but it proved effective on every patient in the last month." The older wizard grinned at her. "You have done well, Hermione. Though you are still lamentably bubbly in nature."

She threw herself into his arms and giggled. He'd used her first name. She knew what that meant.

"Do try to develop some decorum. Severus never hugged me." Her master smirked down at her. "A Master has standards. You have earned your place amongst us, but you need to make sure the world respects it."

"Yes, Claude." She pulled back from him and bounced on her heels. He didn't correct her use of his first name. Her master recognized her as an equal.

"Go be insufferable with your muggle." Claude Martel smiled at her. "Yes, I know you've been carrying on with some poor man that has no hope of ever understanding you. Better a muggle than that red headed buffoon that still sniffs around from time to time. That one is stupid and annoying."

"Ronald doesn't understand anyone that truly loves learning." Hermione laughed and grabbed her satchel. "But you won't have to put up with him much longer. I'm destined to see him every so often for the rest of my life."

"The muggle makes you smile. It's a shame that you can not bring him to meet me." He held up his hand. "I'm too old and set in my ways to pretend for a man that has no magic."

Hermione sighed. The war had changed many things, but Claude Martel was not one of them. She blew the man a kiss and laughed as he recoiled.

"I shall go play with my muggle." She swung open the door and let the warm sunlight into the room. "I'll start brewing the potion for the next phase tomorrow."

"Begone with you." Claude smiled and shooed her away with his hands. "Be young and careless for a while."

Hermione launched herself out into the fresh air and headed away from the tiny magical quarter of Lourmarin. It didn't take long to leave the eight buildings and five shops behind. There were other cities nearby with larger and more vibrant neighborhoods. Most of the younger magicals headed to those cities. It was easier for them, but Hermione was comfortable in the muggle world. Electricity did frighten her. Televisions did not startle her. Telephones mostly annoyed her because her magic destroyed the bloody things in a matter of hours.

She walked past a building and grinned as the sounds of a television program filled the air. Being in the muggle world was comforting to her. It kept her memories of childhood and her loving home bright and shiny in her memory.

The only thing that had frightened her was the man she was rushing to see. She'd seen him from a distance and been convinced he was Lucius Malfoy under a glamour. The resemblance was uncanny, but Ambert Sheridan was a muggle. His dark hair and shinning blue eyes were quite different from the elder Malfoy's. He also tended to have sun bronzed skin from spending most of his days excavating Roman ruins nearby. She smirked up at the blue sky and imagined how horribly burned the sunlight would leave a Malfoy. They said everyone had a twin somewhere, and she was thrilled to have found Lucius Malfoy's. He was kind and intelligent. He loved to touch her. His fingers would trail over her skin whenever they were together. When he forgot to shave for a few days, he would rub his whiskers along her skin like a cat and make her giggle. There was always some kind of pastry for breakfast, and he made the very best coffee. He didn't fuss if she was tired when she stumbled into his place. He didn't moan if she was busy for days on end. He was almost perfect.

Hermione hated herself for caring that he was a muggle. She loved him, but she never said the words because she knew the time would come. She would leave him. He was already significantly older than she was. She would still be young by wizarding standards when he was doddering about in his garden and talking about the affair he had while he lived in France.

Her steps slowed and some of the bounce left her. The war had taught her how to accept joy where she found it. Every day was precious. She owed it to those that hadn't made it to truly live her life. Ambert was a blessing and considering leaving him was gut wrenching.

She ducked into a small bakery and bought some fresh bread. She let mundane thoughts drive away the darker ones. Ambert was in her life. She took a deep breath and let the joy of that fill her again.

A few more stops and a bouquet of heliotrope in her hand, she pushed open the door to his place and laughed out a greeting. She heard his voice from somewhere further in and felt the last bit of tension flow out of her. Heading for the kitchen, she started humming a nocturne by Chopin.

Harry Potter frowned at the duty roster posted next to the door. Ron had managed to get himself sent to France again. He wasn't getting the message that things were well and truly over between him and Hermione.

He sighed and looked down at the files in his hands. He didn't have time to trade or he'd go himself. At least he stood a chance of returning home without being hexed. Ron surely didn't.

He put his papers into the tray by the door and watched as they disappeared. He knew they would be resting in Robards' office for the man's perusal in the morning.

He didn't want to go home, but his work was done. Ginny was on the road with the team, so Ron would be there. There was no avoiding him.

"Everything alright there, Harry?" Neville set his own folders in the tray. "You look like a man headed to his own funeral."

"Just another night with Ron." Harry shrugged. "It's been four years since Hermione broke it off, but he won't stop trading his hours so he can go see her."

"I thought he'd leave her alone after his last visit." The taller wizard sighed. "How long did the unspeakables work to lift the hexes off him?"

"Three days and six hours." Harry rolled his eyes. "They've been trying to recruit her ever since."

"So, more stalkers." Neville grinned. "She must be so happy."

"I don't know how to get through to him. She's told him, I've told him, George told him with bloody fireworks, but he won't give up." Harry sighed as they walked toward the lifts together. "He's built up this fantasy that Hermione will come home and settle down like Molly. It's insane."

"Maybe a healer could help?" Neville frowned as they stepped onto the lifts. "Talk to Arthur and Molly. They've got the best chance of actually getting through to him. He was conditioned to listen to them at one time."

"Or I could ignore everything. Hermione's creativity is adding to the arsenal of spells we have at our disposal." Harry smirked as the lift doors slid open. "Think of all the things we will be able to do."

"It's all fun and games until her wand is pointed at you." Neville shoved his shoulder as the pair stepped onto the lift and let the topics turn to more mundane things.

Ambert stroked his fingers up her spine and freed the sweat dampened curls still stuck to the back of her neck. He knew she was asleep. The soft snore and the slightly open mouth gave her away every time.

They'd had a wonderful meal and a nice bottle of wine. It wasn't an odd night for them. She'd brought him flowers again. Always heliotrope. Glancing over at the bouquet shoved into another of his drinking glasses, he smiled.

It was part of her charm, her determination to woo him still strong after three years. She knew he didn't have a vase to his name. If he did, it sure as hell wouldn't have flowers in it. He spent his time poking around in the past. The Roman ruins in these parts still held a secret or two. He wasn't out to save the world, but she didn't care.

There had been a few throw away comments about heroes and those that wished they were through the years. He knew enough to know she didn't really want to talk about it. Some things were best left to the imagination.

After three years he should know more about her than he did. They talked about so many things, but never their pasts. Their relationship had stumbled along in its own odd way. He'd spent the first year trying to convince her he was too old for anything more than friendship and conversation and the second year discovering that his sex drive wasn't as atrophied as he had assumed. This last year had been as close to domestic bliss as he had ever come.

Hermione spent more nights with him than not. She always arrived with music and chaos in her wake. She would kick off her shoes and dance barefoot in the kitchen while cooked. She'd filled his cabinets with spices and pots and pans. Not every meal was a gastronomic adventure. Simple food suited them both.

She would be horrified if he confessed to eating sandwiches over the sink when she wasn't about. There would be a lecture with statistics from the latest medical journals.

He loved it when she lectured him. She'd pace and emphasize every word with wild gestures that used her whole arms. Her passions were always there, right under the surface.

Tonight she'd arrived with flowers and food that led to conversation and other distractions. She didn't mind the fact that he didn't have a television. His site notes and odd sketches never bothered her.

He traced the edge of an odd scar on her back. She had quite a few rather terrifying scars for one so young. He sighed. He had his own. The burn on his arm that left his skin mottled and unattractive had never bothered her. She'd spent hours tracing her fingers over the warped skin when they first started seeing each other. He'd found the gentleness of it comforting.

She didn't sleep well. He'd lived through more than a few of her nightmares as she thrashed and whimpered. Something in her past had damaged her beyond the physical record of her scars, and he hated it. Hated more, he supposed, that he couldn't fix it.

Not that she needed fixing. She'd smack his shoulder and glare at him if he even suggested it. Such a fierce little thing.

He knew their time was coming to a close. Her research was done. She didn't need to hide away from the world to focus on it anymore.

He frowned and leaned back against the pillows. He'd had other lovers, but he'd spent the last three years with Hermione. He'd gotten attached. Hell, he'd fallen in love with her, but he wasn't one for dramatic revelations.

"Stop thinking so loud." She flipped her hair back and glared at him. "Talk about it."

"You're leaving soon." He wound a stray curl around his finger. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'm not." She shook her head into the pillow. "There are trials..."

He stopped her rambling words by pressing a finger to her lower lip. He didn't want to listen to her timelines and her plans. There time was finite. They both knew it.

"I'll never know what drew you to a broken down, old man like me." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the skin riding her clavicle. He ignored the white line at her throat and trailed his tongue up to her jaw before pulling back and staring into her eyes. "But I am grateful for it."

"Any woman would want you." She tilted her neck back and bared her throat to his tender mercies.

"It only matters that you do." He stroked a hand down from her shoulder to her hip and pulled her flush with his body. Perhaps he wasn't ready to be put out to pasture just yet.

"I want to be free." Narcissa Malfoy growled and fisted her hands next to her skirts. Draco watched his mother pace back and forth. Her agitation has been growing over the last few weeks.

"I approached the Ministry, Mother." Draco sighed. "No visitors are allowed."

"I've visited him in Azkaban before. Our solicitors have gone as well." She swirled about and changed direction. "An auror could take the papers for him to sign."

"Father agreed to these conditions to shorten his time away from the family." Draco didn't bother to remind her that she'd encouraged him. "I know this is inconvenient, but it doesn't change anything."

"Our vows weren't modern, Draco." His mother collapsed into the chair across from his. "If your father signs those papers, I'm free. If he doesn't I won't have any choices. He will put reputation ahead of happiness. He always has."

"You don't know that." Draco sighed. He was sick of her dramatics. "Beyond that, you said you would wait for him."

"I want a life of my own." She clenched her fists in her lap. "I married him right out of Hogwarts. The last few years have opened my eyes. Is it so wrong to trod my own path?"

"No." Draco rolled his eyes. "In two years, he will sign the papers. He won't force you to stay."

"I'll just have to ask Potter." She stood up and resumed pacing. "He will help me."

Hermione woke up in the protective curve of her lover's body. One arm was draped over her waist. She eased back against his chest and smiled at the blue light filtering in through the curtains. This was bliss. She felt his chest expand with each breath, even and steady. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the security of the moment.

"I love you." She whispered the words and snuggled back into his warmth. It felt good to say it.

"I love you, too." He dropped a kiss against the shell of her ear. "For a while now."

She rolled over and looked into his blue eyes. Peace poured off of him. He was at ease with the world and it showed in everything he did.

"I thought saying it would make it harder." She dropped her gaze to his chin.

"Love isn't a promise of forever." He curled a finger under her chin and tipped her gaze back up to his. "It's a gift. Will you love me less when you go?"

She felt the moisture rising in her eyes as she shook her head.

"You asked about my tattoos when we were first together. The runic circles going down my spine were a drunken mistake. I transcribed the design from a chamber we found in Norway, but I did it wrong and wound up with meaningless circles. Lousy story, too." He shrugged. "But I decided to get another. I've drawn it again and again for months. I'm going to put it on my shoulder where I can always see it."

He plucked a drawing up from his bedside table and handed it to her. She looked down at the drawing and saw a figure eight composed of heliotrope. Her fingers tightened on the page.

"Eternity." Her own voice sounded far away.

"Eternal love." He stroked his fingers along the side of her face. "I will love you wherever you are. If I tried to hold you here, it would crush you. I'm far too old to bind you up with promises. All I can give you is this."

"Eternal love?" Hermione pressed her hand to the warm skin over his heart. "That's not a little thing."

"Simple though." He leaned forward and kissed her gently. She felt her magic rising up and knew that something in his gift was calling on her to answer it.

"Let's both do it." She stroked his shoulder with the tips of her fingers. "Let's Go this weekend and do it."

"You want this? You're sure?"

She smiled at him and nodded. Early magic users had used tattoos to enhance healing. Spells could be set into a body with the ink. It was simple enough in theory. She looked back down at his drawing and knew she would be able to infuse it with her love. Some part of her would always be with him.

"I want this." She reached over him and set the drawing back where it had been. "We will both have this."

"She keeps showing up. Being stalked by Narcissa Malfoy isn't as much fun as one might think." Harry looked at Gawain Robards and frowned. "I owe her a bloody life debt, but this is all so out of the blue."

"Damn." Robards leaned back in his seat. "Too many of our people are compromised by the bloody things after the war. She'll know the old rites. You could be made very uncomfortable."

"She's a member of House Black. Is there anyway to use that to control her?" Harry rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand and felt the cool slide of his wedding ring against his skin.

"The chair is still in the Wizengamot chamber. Do you know the current head of House?" Robards frowned. "Can't remember ever meeting him."

"Could it be Draco Malfoy?" Harry started to pace.

"No. Lupin's boy is out, too. You can only guard one House." The older wizard took a deep breath. "Did Sirius Black name a specific individual in his will?"

"Dumbledore was the only one to read it." Harry stopped in the middle of the room. "I never saw it, never actually confirmed anything that Dumbledore said."

"Dumbledore's damnable irregularities. The man was a bloody menace. We should notify archives and pull Black's will." Robards rolled his eyes and reached for a quill.

"Have the improper use of muggle artifacts desk send the request." Harry looked around the room and took a deep breath. "Also have them pull the documents for Regulus Black, Orion Black, and Walburga Black. Tell them we're hunting a dangerously cursed necklace that was traced to the House. It will get a quicker response, and I'm sure we can fins ten in the attic."

"Opening a fake case to help you dispose of some cursed jewelry?" Robards chuckled and ran his hand down the side of his long face. "Good thinking, Potter."

"Very amusing, Sir." Potter smiled. "What could make Narcissa Malfoy risk her position in society? It's two years, and all of her reasons ring a bit hollow. None of the pieces fit together quite right."

"Always hated puzzles." The head auror took a deep breath and pulled a bottle of fire whiskey and two glasses from a drawer. "Something tells me I'm going to need more of this soon."

Hermione rubbed a healing balm over Ambert's shoulder. He hadn't minded switching to her supposed antibiotic ointment to treat their tattoos. She grinned as he passed her the bandage at the right moment. He didn't realize that he would be completely healed well before he quit wearing the bandage. The balm was already working on the deeper damage. She flopped down on the bed next to him and grinned.

"Tattoos are a kind of magic." He traced the edges of her bandage. "A lot of ancient cultures used them, and we still use them today. Marking ourselves for protection, declaration, or decoration. It's all a way of linking yourself into something larger."

"I suppose it is." Hermione stroked her fingers along his forearm. It was an odd sensation to feel the tingle magic under his skin. "I have linked myself to you forever."

"And it's magical." He bent down and pressed a kiss just over her heart.

She groaned as he pushed her linen shirt aside with his chin and continued kissing her upon some path of his own devising. She was fairly certain it was a path to madness for her as he scraped her skin lightly with his teeth. She moaned and gripped the hand closest to her.

Her clothing slid from her body as his mouth worked over her skin. Teeth, lips, and tongue, glorious, clever tongue, pushed her over into ecstasy again and again until she was staring up into his blue eyes as he joined her. She felt the magic flow between them, and arched off the bed.

Thunder and the splash of rain against stone and glass filled the room with sound. The fingers on both their hands laced as he thrust just that bit further. He held his weight on his elbows to protect her as she writhed beneath him. He was her anchor, her safe harbor.

"I need you, Hermione." He kissed her chin and tilted her head until their gazed met again. "I love you. Always."

She saw a flash of lightning reflected in his eyes and shuddered around him as the both tumbled into bliss.

"Love." She pressed her open mouth against his throat and licked at the salty moisture there. "Always. Yours. Always."

Author's Note

Okay, I didn't mean to do it. I've been working on The Girl With The Blue Lotus Tattoo and Into The Fire. I still am, but this came along and my muse liked it better.

She's fickle and really likes Jason Isaacs. Really, can you blame her?

Blame me. I'm a bad author. I'm so bad.

At least you know the others are coming?

Please, don't hate me. Pretty, pretty please?

-Anna