Chapter

Hermione

We popped out of Diagon Alley in order to call my parents and check when they'll be home today. It feels so strange to me that it's only a week into the summer holiday. Harry and I have been back for two. But there's been enough drama shoved into the last sixteen days to last a dozen lifetimes.

Instead of going back inside and eating at the Leaky, we chose a Muggle establishment to lunch in. We're all dressed casually enough to blend into Muggle London, despite the cloaks around our shoulders. Ron's eyes were wide with curiosity, having never eaten in a Muggle shop before. Until he realized the only difference between the sandwich shop we're in, and the pub inside of Diagon Alley is the plates don't wash themselves. The restaurant quickly lost its wow factor.

"Are we sure about the Longbottom boy?" Sirius asks, pulling a long draw from the bottle of stout sitting beside his plate. "His parents were some of the bravest folks I've ever known, but from what Moony has told me, he's not exactly quick-witted."

"Yes, we're sure," I say, and Harry lifts one finger, swallowing the food in his mouth.

"He'll gain in confidence and skill, trust me. He's been using his father's wand."

"Ah," Remus says, with a knowing nod. "That can make a difference."

I understand the nostalgia of using the wand that was wielded by his father, but if the wand chooses the wizard, then Neville probably never earned its allegiance. Especially as its previous owner is still alive and Nevile didn't win it in battle.

"They'll come to respect him at the school, as well," Harry adds. "Even more so now that his grandmother is the Minister. We want him on our side. I trust him with my life. Or I will, after we've trained him some."

Ron snorts at that, shoving a chip into his mouth.

"You let an awful lot of information leak in front of Tonks," Remus prods. His arms are on the table, and he leans forward over his linked hands, and it reminds me so much of Remus' teaching that I have to pull back and blink.

Harry shrugs, reaching forward and snatching Sirius' ale from his hands.

"I trust her, don't you?"

Remus and Sirius share a look I don't quite understand, before Sirius huffs and snatches the bottle back from Harry, who'd already brought it to his lips.

"You're getting cocky, Pup," Sirius smirks, finishing off the last of the bottle.

Harry simply shrugs before going back to his food.

"On that note," Remus says, "Nate will be here sometime this weekend. He told me he'd send word when he hit London so we could go pick him up."

"Excellent," Sirius grins, before taking a too large bite of food. My nose scrunches and I have to look away. For all of that pure-blood breeding, sometimes he still eats like a dog.

"Nate?" Harry asks.

"Nathanial Smythe," Sirius replies with a mouthful of food. "American. Did a year with us at Hogwarts as part of an exchange program. Current member of the international JMATTF."

Excitement bubbles up inside my chest.

This is…wow! We never had outside help last time!

Is this good? Harry asks through the bond. I start as his unexpected words caress through my brain.

Brilliant! I assure him.

"I called him last night," Remus says. "If you lot want to train, he's the best one to help you. He's a weapons master, including swords. Sirius here has been out of the game a while, and though I went through Auror training, it's been a good time since I've had a proper duel as well. Seeing that the Ministry has acknowledged the return of You-Know-Who, he was able to swing an assignment change. He's here for the duration, ostensibly as a liaison to the MACUSA Auror department."

Remus looks Harry in the eye.

"In reality, he's here to train you. The next time you face You-Know-Who, you won't be hiding behind a gravestone."

"Good," Harry says, determination coating him like a suit of armor.

"What's the JMA, MTA or, you know, whatever you said?" Ron asks, and I perk up and raise my hand before I remember that I don't really have to do that here.

Remus chuckles, and gestures for me to answer Ron anyway.

"It stands for the Joint Magical Anti-Terrorism Task Force. Basically, an elite group of Aurors from all over the world that work together to bring down dark wizards."

"They have a tighter scope than that," Remus says. "If a terrorist group, is suspected of acting with magical assistance, then the JMATTF steps in and removes the witch or wizards assisting them."

Harry curls his lip in disdain.

"So basically, they don't care if Muggles kill each other, just when we do it for them."

"Sad, but true," Remus agrees. "History is filled with Muggle conflict. Witches and wizards have always played their part; to either assist their Muggle neighbors or to put an end to the witches and wizards egging the Muggles on. But unfortunately, we can't do more than that. It's a short leap between interfering to save lives and taking over altogether. There's a reason our societies are separate, and it isn't about protecting the witch and wizard as most would have you believe. They need protection from us, not the other way around."

Sirius nods his head in agreement, and Ron drops his food onto his plate with an uneasy expression.

"I wonder where this task force was last time?" Harry says, and I pinch him on the leg. His big fucking mouth is going to get us burned at the stake! Luckily, the men sitting at the table with us assume he meant when his parents were killed. Not as in three years from now when Britain had zero help from outside magical communities.

"Not in existence," Remus says. "But besides that, even this time, the Ministry would have to invite the task force in by requesting assistance, and that would never happen. Despite having a witch as formidable as Augusta in charge, the Ministry would never admit they required outside help."

"Also," Sirius adds, looking Harry in the eye. The look says it all. He knows Harry was complaining about the future, not the past. "Say the Ministry as we know it were to fall, and You-Know-Who gained control of the government. Well then, it wouldn't be a dark wizard wreaking havoc, would it? It would be a political party setting new laws and regulations. An outside governing body sticking their noses where they aren't wanted could be seen as a sign of war."

"And that," I say with anger boiling in my gut, a hot echo of the fire spitting behind Harry's eyes, "is exactly how Hitler took over half the world."

Even Ron knows who Hitler is, and he pushes his plate away, a frown marring his usually smiling face.

Silence falls on the table, as we all lose ourselves to our own thoughts.

Remus clears his throat. He wipes his face with his napkin, pushing away from the table.

"This has been incredibly eye-opening, but I too have errands to run today. I'm assuming I'm not needed for the meeting with Hermione's parents?"

"I wish I wasn't needed for the meeting with my parents," I mumble under my breath, and all the boys at the table laugh. Harry's laugh is a little flat though. He squeezes my knee under the table, and I link my fingers with his, resting our entwined hands on my lap.

Remus leans forward and whispers something in Sirius's ear. He nods, then clasps his hand over Remus's where it rests on Sirius's shoulders. With a nod and a wave, Remus makes his way from the restaurant.

"Has he been given his orders to make nice with the other werewolves yet?" Harry asks in a low voice.

Sirius nods, pushing his plate away.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Harry says, popping the last bite of his turkey club into his mouth. "Waste of time, and it breaks Moony's spirit. There are other ways he can be of help to the Order. If we're going to make a change, it starts right here and now. He shouldn't hide in the shadows. Fighting Riddle is about acceptance for all, werewolves included."

Clouds roll behind Sirius's eyes, and his fingers tap against the glass bottle that held his ale.

"I'll pass the message along," he says. He taps out a senseless rhythm on the glass, conversation stilled between us. "What about Hagrid and the giants?" he asks. "Should he be recalled as well?"

I look at Harry, a hundred different replies shooting through my mind.

"No," Harry says, shaking his head. "He and Madam Maxine won't have any luck persuading the giants to join the side of the light. But Hagrid makes a friend." Harry grins at Sirius. "I wouldn't want to deprive him of that."

I can't help my laugh.

"A friend?" Sirius questions.

"His brother," Harry smiles. "Brings him back and hides him in the Forbidden Forest. Tries to teach him English."

"You mean ropes us into teaching him English!" I say, enjoying the way Ron's jaw drops in horror.

Sirius barks out histhat abrasive laugh, causing half the heads in the restaurant to turnturning to look at him.

"Merlin," he says, wiping the tears from his face. "That's classic! Do you succeed?"

I shrug, and when I turn to look at Harry, he's already staring at me with those sparkling green eyes.

"He calls Hermione, Hermy," Harry says playfully, and Ron joins in on the laughter. I throw his hand back in his lap, crossing my arms over my chest in a snit.

"Did you have to tell them that?" I hiss in Harry's direction.

"Yes," he jokes, chuckling along with the other two.

The sound of my cell phone ringing brings an end to my embarrassment.

Bugger.

"Hi Mum," I say, answering the phone.

"We're home, darling. You said you'd be back tonight?"

"Yeah," I agree, and Harry swallows, his throat bobbing with effort. All the blood leaves his face, and he rubs his fingers across his mouth.

The bond is buzzing, then stops, then buzzes some more.

He's trying to block his emotions from me.

Merlin! He's as nervous as I am!

"I'll be there in a few minutes, Mum," I tell her, then hang up the line when she says goodbye.

I place my elbows onto the table, then drop my head to my palms.

"What am I supposed to tell them?" I ask in rhetorical fashion.

Harry answers me anyway.

"Whatever you want. We tell them as much or as little as you want to. If you want to tell them about the Bonds and the marriage and the war, then we will. If you want me to Imperius them into joining Doctors Without Borders, then I'll do that. If you want to stay with your parents this summer, then you can do that too."

I bite on my lower lip, tugging on my fingers. Why does facing my parents terrify me, but remembering teaching a giant English seem fun?

No matter what happens though, I have zero plans of not sleeping in Harry's bed every night. If only for my own sanity. I can't handle watching myself die over and over again night after night. I didn't wake up with a bad dream once last night.

"You can use the Imperius?!" Sirius demands.

Harry nods his head and lifts a shoulder.

"I can throw it off entirely too. It doesn't affect me at all anymore."

"Blimey," Ron breathes with awe.

Harry turns to him with a dry expression, his eyebrow tipped up behind his glasses.

"You already knew that, Ron. You watched fake Moody practice on me about a dozen times."

"Oh yeah…" he says, his face lighting up in realization.

I shake my head and rise from my seat. I drop a twenty-pound note onto the table, and we leave our trash where it lies. No one speaks again until we're out in the street. Harry takes my hand in his automatically, and we entwin our fingers. There's an alley a little way up, and Sirius points to it as we head in that direction.

"I'm not a very good liar," I say, and Harry scoffs at my side

"Since when?" he mocks, looking down on me past his chin.

I roll my eyes.

"Fine," I huff, and push a strand of hair out of my face. "I'm not very good at lying to my parents. When I obliviated them before, I did it with their backs turned so I didn't have to see their faces. I don't think I can do it again."

Harry takes my hand and brings it to his lips, placing a kiss on my palm.

"Then you don't have to do it. Tell them everything, and we'll go from there. Or tell them nothing. This is completely up to you."

Could he be any less helpful?

"We could always move them into Grimmauld," Sirius suggests. "Even with all the Weasley's and Remus, there are still plenty of rooms."

"We could, yeah. But they can't protect themselves against magic. What if the house is breached? Or what if they're attacked at work or going to and from? It's just not worth the risk."

Harry squeezes my hand tighter, and I realize I'm trying to pull on my fingers again. It's a habit I lost ages ago, but I guess with age regression comes a few side effects. Like a nervous twitch that only shows itself now when I'm freaking out over test results.

Or telling my parents I'm married.

"How about we just play it by ear," Sirius says, his face soft and sympathetic. He throws his arm around my shoulders. "I'll help smooth things over with your folks. After all, you are kinda my daughter-in-law now, right?"

Harry does a double check, staring at his Godfather from over the top of my head.

"Merlin, you adopted me," he says with shock in his voice.

"Well spotted, Harry," Ron smirks, looking at his best friend in amusement.

"I just, everything has been going so fast, I haven't really stopped to consider the ramifications other than Kreacher doesn't hate me this time and now I have a second last name. That means you're my dad."

Sirius scrunches up his nose.

"I'm not sure if I'd go that far, Pup."

Harry shoots Sirius an amused look, pushing up his glasses.

"So, you'll claim my wife as a daughter but not me as a son?"

Sirius stops in the middle of the sidewalk, in the mouth of the open alley. He cups Harry's face, his other hand on his shoulder.

"I'll claim you as my own, for as long as I'm alive. But you already have a father, Pup. I've no desire to replace him."

Harry jerks his chin, swallowing the emotion filling behind his eyes. Sirius pulls him into a hug, and I step away, only to run into Ron's chest. He puts his arms out to steady me, linking them around my front, and this is a change too. Ron from the last time avoided touching me as much as he could.

I tip my head back to look at him when I hear him sniffle.

"Are you crying?" I ask, and Ron shakes his head at the same time his hand lifts to rub at his nose.

"No," he huffs.

Boys.

Harry and Sirius separate, and together, we go deeper into the alleyway.

"Does anybody but me know where I live?" I ask.

Everyone shakes their heads no.

I thought as much.

"Okay. One at a time then."

Since I'm already closest to Ron, I grab his hand, then apparate him into my parent's backyard.

Ron is walking around the area, examining the pool and the lawn furniture when I arrive with Harry and Sirius.

"It's bullocks that you can apparate and I can't," he complains, poking at a rose bush. The roses at Hogwarts will jab back if you try to prune them while they're awake, and Ron jerks his hand back in anticipation of a retaliation from the flowers that never comes.

"Then we'll teach you," Harry says matter of factly, and I watch him go to our best friend. I let the glamours fall for a second time today, and my boys glimmer back into their proper forms. Harry says something too low for me to hear, bumping his shoulder against Ron's. Ron nods, huffing his shoulders, before pushing Harry away with a playful shove.

"Wanker," Harry says.

"Prat," Ron replies.

Boys.

Sirius rolls his eyes in my direction. I make it as far as the sliding glass door, before I freeze with my fingers gripping the handle so hard, they've gone white.

My heart is thundering out of my chest and my hands are shaking and oh God, what am I supposed to tell them. 'Hey guys! Guess what? I'm married and the evilest wizard in the world wants my husband's head mounted on his wall as a trophy?'

Yeah. That'll do wonders.

I let my forehead fall to the glass.

"Why aren't I obliviating them again?"

"Because it broke something inside of you to do it the first time. I say we explain the Bonds, as much as we can. We explain about Voldemort, as much as we're able, then we hide them until it's over."

I don't realize I've spoken out loud until Harry answers me. His voice is beside my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder. I turn my face to look at him, and he's close enough to kiss. Close enough to run my nose against his and to dart my tongue out and run it against the seam of his lips.

"You'll help me?" I ask him in a tiny voice.

"Of course," he assures me, and I believe him from the bottom of my heart.

Without further ado, I stand up straight and slide the door open.

"Mum!" I yell into the house. "I'm home."

My Mum comes out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. She smiles wide when she sees me, and even wider when she sees the trail of boys filing into the house behind me.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," she says, pulling me into a hug. I breathe in her warmth, letting it soak into my belly. I'm going to need all the strength I can get.

"Where's Ginny?" she asks, rising on her tiptoes as if expecting to see her over Sirius's shoulder.

Probably at home pouting. Or plotting.

"She decided to stay home," I tell her honestly. "Our errands wouldn't have been fun for her."

"Ah," my mom says. "Bookstore?"

"Yes," all three men behind me agree. Mum jingles in laughter.

Yeah, yeah, I'm a hoot. Let's make fun of the bookworm. I should tell them it was Harry's idea to go to the bookstore, and what we were searching for. That'll stop the mocking.

On second thought, I don't think it would.

"Come on in then," Mum says. "Anyone hungry?"

Ron opens his mouth to respond, but Harry smacks him upside the head, and he grumbles under his breath when Harry replies, "No thank you, Ma'am. We just ate."

Harry gives me a significant look, and I take a bracing breath.

"Actually, Mum. Is Dad around? We have something to talk to you about."

She gives me a curious glance, and I try to look reassuring, but I think I just look nauseous instead. Because throwing up feels like a really good idea right now. Harry slips his hand into mine and squeezes, and my Mum smirks before leading us into the living room.

"Roger," Mum yells. "Hermione is home. She wants to talk to us."

No actually, she doesn't. She really does not want to talk to you. But she doesn't feel like she has a choice in the matter, and so is quietly having a nervous breakdown in the middle of the living room with everybody watching.

Mum gestures to the couch, and Ron and Harry sit on either side, leaving the middle cushion open for me. Sirius takes one of the chairs, leaving the love seat open to my parents. My dad wanders in with a small smile on his face and drops a kiss to my upturned cheek before exchanging handshakes with all the men.

Harry's hands are shaking, and my father gives him a bemused look.

Dad sits down next to Mum, and everyone looks at me expectantly, and my tongue gets stuck to the roof of my mouth.

"I don't know how to tell you this," I say, and it's so true, because I don't. Even Mrs. Weasley, a pure-blood witch, had trouble grasping the totality of what had happened.

Harry and I are bonded. In every way there can be.

Well, almost every way. But the books in my purse are burning a hole through the leather so yeah if I get my way we'll be bonded completely pretty damn soon.

Married at fifteen. That hasn't been done since the Middle Ages. By the age of the Industrial Revolution women didn't marry until their late teens or early twenties.

I could just not tell them. Just skip it all and leave. But I don't want to do that.

I don't!

"I—"

They say you don't realize how precious something is until it's taken from you. Well, I know how precious my parents are. But how do I protect them and still keep them in my life?

I have to tell them the truth.

"Don't get mad, okay, but something happened, and—"

And what?

Ron groans at my side, and yeah, I could have phrased that better. There's no surer way to make a parent mad then by starting a confession with the phrase don't get mad.

"Hermione," my mother asks with fear in her voice. "What did you do?"

I kissed a boy and I liked it, and now I'm legally and magically his wife and soul mate.

Though, I suppose I was always his soul mate, long before that kiss.

I open my mouth and shrug, but nothing will come out.

Harry looks at me and I nod. He tries his hand at telling my parents the truth.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. It's my fault. I was stupid and reckless, and now she's stuck in this position because of me."

I hear the pain in his voice, feel how real the words are to him. He is sorry I'm stuck with him, as he sees it. He would move mountains, defy the Gods, if he thought he could free me of the burden of being his wife. He can't understand that that's so far from the truth as to be laughable.

I want to climb into his arms and assure him that I'm exactly where I want to be. I want to be his wife, more than I've ever wanted anything on this earth. Being a witch included.

But none of that matters right now because there are few things Harry could have said that would make the situation worse. And that was one of them.

"Hermione Jean Granger," my father booms. "Are you pregnant?!"

Harry jerks beside me, horror flooding into our bond, before it snaps closed like a lid on a trunk. Blood rushes to Ron's face and he stares at us with a sort of terrified fascination. I smack him with the back of my hand against his chest. Hard. He shakes himself, and rouses from his stupor, looking back at my parents with a cringe.

Sirius lowers his head and covers his mouth. Hiding his amusement, the right bastard!

I can't believe they would…

"No!" I exclaim standing up from the couch. "Absolutely not. How could you ever think that! I'm not that irresponsible! I would never—" I could scream! I could cry! My own father…I point at him, shoving my finger into my father's face until he recoils from fear I'll poke him in the eye. My hands tremble in his face. He's lucky there's a coffee table between us.

"You know me better than that! Pregnant at fifteen?! Gods!"

I flex my hands at my side, running my now sweaty palms up and down my hips. Harry reaches for me, and I smack his hand away, too worked up to be coddled. I step over his legs, moving to the side of the couch.

I turn back to my parents, anger at the accusation making me careless.

"Besides that, as you well know, Mum. I'm on the pill! I have too many plans to have a child so young. How could I ever be so reckless? So careless? You can't make a difference in the world when you're worried about childcare and breastfeeding! No one would vote for a Minister for Magic who got knocked up at fifteen!"

Pregnant! I mean, I am married. Is Harry going to want me to get pregnant?

Of course, he will! I know how bad he's always wanted a family of his own. But I can't have children. Not yet. Not when there's a war going on. We saw what it did to Remus, didn't we? The terror he felt bringing a child into the middle of a war.

Harry wouldn't want that. I'm sure of it. Not for me, and not for our children.

"What's the pill," Ron asks, when my outburst subsides into unintelligent mumbling.

I look up from my arm flailing, watching the conversation with trembling hands and a heaving chest. This can't be happening.

"Muggle birth control," Sirius says. "You take this small pill every day, and it stops you from getting pregnant."

I lift my eyes to follow the conversation and watch Ron's lip turn up in distaste.

"Why would you take a pill every day when you can just do the charm? Or, you know, I know there's potions you can take. Like once a month or something. I think?"

It's like a car crash. Happening in slow motion. You see it happening, but no matter how you react, you can't stop the impact.

"Do you know how many babies are born every year because they forgot to cast the charm? I'm probably looking at one right now!"

Ron's eyes go wide at the implication, before his "Oi!" as what Sirius implied finally leaves an impression.

Harry's eyes are wide, his jaw is open. His hands are fisted on his knees. He's leaning away from the conversation, and his muscles are coiled to spring, ready to jump and run.

He looks like he's going to be sick.

"There's more reasons to take the birth control pill than just to prevent pregnancy," My mom chips in and oh God, oh God, OH GOD, is this really happening?

I can't watch this.

I turn my face up to the ceiling and pray someone kills me again. Anyone? I know Bellatrix is in Azkaban, but certainly there's a rogue death eater walking around who'd like to curry favor by offing Harry's Potter's best friend. I'm pulling at my fingers, and Harry tries to stop me, but I smack his hands away again. I don't care if I break them all. Anything is better than this.

"There's actually several beneficial reasons to take the Muggle option rather than the magic," Mum says. "It helps regulate your hormones and prevents acne. It helps with cramping and controlling your period. It can actually stop your period altogether if you take it continuously and without a break."

"Helps with the mood swings too," my dad says in a conspiratorial way, leaning in and whispering loudly and Oh My God!

I can't take it anymore.

I stomp back in front of the couch and stamp my foot in anger.

"I'M NOT PREGNANT!" I shout, throwing my arms open wide. "I'm not pregnant! We're married, okay! Harry and I are married and we're from the future and Gods! Everyone! Please stop talking!"

I drop onto the couch between Ron and Harry, covering my face with my hands.

Silence falls after my outburst.

Oh God.

Oh Merlin!

I buggered this all to hell.

But I don't want to lie to them. And I can't have them thinking I'm pregnant and

I—

As one my parents explode, but I can't understand a word they're saying. It's all fuzziness and nonsense.

It's hopeless, is what it is. Harry was right all along. It would have been better if we'd run. If I'd never seen them at all. Because, no matter what, I will have to lose them again, and doing it once was hard enough.

It starts out as a hiccup, a small little bleep. Then a gasp escapes, and another, until I'm crying so hard I can't catch my breath. My chest heaves and my heart breaks and dammit, I should have never come home.

"Hey!" Harry coos at my side. "Hey, hey, hey, Mi. It'll be okay."

I thought I'd lost them forever, and then I had them back, and now I have to send them away again, and Merlin, it's all too much.

Harry hauls me onto his lap. I latch my arms around his neck, sobbing uncontrollably onto his shoulders.

"I don't want to lose them again," I cry, and Harry tucks his head down next to mine, his forehead resting in the crook of my neck. His arms are tight around me, the palm of his hands running soothing circles up and down my back. "I thought I'd never see them again, and now I have, and I don't want to lose them."

It's like my new mantra. It's all I can think about.

"I know," he soothes, his voice low and quiet. "I know, love. But you don't have to." He cups my face in his hands and lifts my chin until I meet his eye. "We can do it differently this time. The plan you made is still a good one. Even Dumbledore agreed. Get them someplace safe and bring them home when the war is over. We can do this Hermione. I promise you; you won't lose them this time."

"Lose us?" my mom asks. "You'll never lose us, honey."

"Married?!" my dad demands with heat lacing his voice. His voice sounds higher, and I wonder if he's risen from his chair.

"What do you mean when the war is over?" my mom insists, and I'm so very thankful for her and her analytical mind that I start to cry all over again.

I'm straddling Harry's lap, in the middle of my parent's living room, and I don't even care. Harry hitches me up higher, so that there's zero space between us. My cheeks rest on his shoulder, and he must have pulled the band from my braid because he's running his fingers through my hair.

The couch dips beside me, and another hand joins Harry's on my back.

Ron gives me a sad smile when I open my eyes.

It's always been the three of us against the world.

It's all so, so peaceful, and it's around me and inside me and, dammit, it's that stupid bond again. Harry is flooding my senses with his aura of calm and I really kinda hate him for it because I don't want to be calm. I want to cry about how fucked up everything is. But Harry has always bent me to his will, and instead of him gaining some semblance of control over his own excessive emotions I'm giving him control over mine.

Can we all agree that that's not going to be good for anyone.

But at least, for the moment, his certainty that everything will work out is a balm on my mind.

"There are problems we can't solve, Mi," Harry coaxes. "This isn't one of them."

My breathing hitches when I gasp for air, but the crying slows to a trickle as Harry continues whispering insignificant nothings into the top of my head.

"Harry's right," Ron says. "Between the Order and us, we can make sure your parents are the safest Muggles in Britain."

I nod my head and sniffle, then pull Ron into a hug. He and Harry both grunt when our three bodies collide.

Harry was right. He may be a git, but he's our git.

"Are you ready?" Harry asks.

I nod my head yes, and with a little wiggle from either side, squish myself between Harry and Ron. Ron wraps his arm around my shoulders. Harry holds my hand. I let my head rest in the crook of his arm.

"Sirius," Harry says.

"I don't know where to even start, Pup," Sirius admits.

Harry's sigh is pronounced enough that I feel his chest expand beneath me.

Harry speaks instead.

"I guess it'll be easier to start from the beginning. Did Hermione ever tell you about my parent's death and why I was raised by my mother's sister?"

"Yes," my mother breathes, and I lift my head enough that I can look at her fully. Her eyes are on me, and when I meet her gaze, her entire being crumbles.

"Voldemort is back," Harry says, and my mother gasps. "Voldemort is back, and there's this prophecy, and your daughter is going to save the world."

Harry pulls the orb from his pouch and reaches across the living room table. My mother lifts it from his palm, showing it to my dad.

As one, my parents start rapid firing questions

I shut the door to my childhood bedroom, and lean against the wood, a thousand emotions that I can't quantify running rampant through my head.

"I'm guessing your room wasn't always this empty," Harry asks, and I pull my attention from my wallowing, and turn to look at my room.

It's completely bare. Besides my bed and my desk, Winky left no poster hanging and no drawer unturned. I walk to the bed and fall heavily onto the edge, unable to support my own weight anymore.

"Wow," I breathe, unused as I am to the barren look of the room I lived in for eighteen years. "Winky really went to town, didn't she?"

"It's a good thing your parents aren't the kind to check on your room when you aren't in it. We'd have had even more questions to answer."

He chuckles when he says it, but I can't tell if the weariness flowing through me is his or my own. Probably a combination of both.

"You okay?" he asks me, coming to stand in front of me. Harry tucks my hair behind my ear, then flexes his hand, before shoving both fists into his pockets.

My head twitches at his weird behavior.

"What?" I ask, curious about the thoughts I can't read in his head.

"I can't seem to stop touching you," he admits, his cheeks pinking. "I don't even realize I'm doing it. Then I do realize it and figure it's too late to stop it this time, though next time I need to remember to keep my hands to myself. But then three minutes later I'm touching you again, and I have the same fight on repeat."

I link my forefingers into his belt loops, jerking him closer, until he stands between my knees.

"Do you hear me complaining?"

Harry digs his hands into my hair, and I let loose an audible sigh as his fingers scrape along my scalp.

"No," he says sadly. "But maybe you should."

My eyes close, the lids too heavy to stay open.

"You should go with your parent's Mi. It's the safest place for you. I'll come and find you when it's all over."

This.

Again.

McGonagall is currently in our living room with half the order, making plans to hide my parents away. Mrs. Weasley is in the kitchen, refilling cups of tea and ensuring the cakes and sandwiches don't run out. I was terrified when the overbearing woman appeared in the newly activated floo in my parent's living room. But instead of raging about how improper it is for Harry and me to share a room, she's done nothing but offer comfort and support to my Mum. Actually, the way she described Bonded Mates was really quite lovely. Even my dad was looking at Harry in a different light by the time she was done.

I'm sure the fight over sleeping arrangements isn't over, but she's not making the situation worse, and for that I'm grateful.

It'll take a week or so until everything is in order. False identities will be used for them to volunteer with Doctors Without Borders. Only this time when I send them away, they'll remember who I am. I've no idea if our cell phones will work wherever my parents end up, so my Dad already put a call into his business manager to buy a satellite phone for their trip. I, in turn, sent an owl to Gringotts, to have Ragnok wire funds into my parent's account. There's no sense in them going bankrupt because we're forcing them away. The cell phones cost a grand each. I don't want to imagine what a satellite phone will run them.

At least this way, we'll be able to stay in touch.

Before the order arrived, we put another fidelius charm on the fact that Harry and I are from the future. Even if the six of us were captured, they couldn't gleam it from our minds unless Harry or I told them.

Harry, however, has spent the entire afternoon trying to convince everyone who would listen that I should go with my parents. My parents, naturally, heartily agreed. Until Sirius and Arthur pulled them into the kitchen. I don't know what Sirius said to them, but by the time it was over my parents had flipped the script and agreed with me.

That I belong with Harry.

"Harry," I sigh, too tired to even open my eyes. "I swear on magic itself the next time you try to send me away, I'll kill you with my bare hands. My place is at your side. Where it's always been. Where it always will be. You're starting to get on my nerves with this repetitive conversation."

Harry chuckles, and his breath ghosts across the top of my head.

"I'd rather battle Riddle than get on your bad side. I wouldn't want to face the birds."

I want to laugh, but I'm just so irritated with the whole thing.

"Then stop trying to keep me safe."

"I can't," he hisses, and this time I feel the words against my skin. I open my eyes and find him hovering above me. "The second I saw you in that hallway, curls escaping every direction, I knew I'd scorch the very earth we walk on if it would keep you safe from harm."

Butterflies erupt in my belly and my heart beats out of my chest.

"That's a dangerous way to think," I whisper, unable to bring any strength into my voice.

"I can't help it," he breathes, and I barely catch the words. His hand tightens in my hair, and he bends my neck back further, bringing his face to mine.

His lips are chapped, but his breath is warm where it blows against me. He slides his tongue against my lips, and I open for him willingly. Happily. He's soft in his explorations. Gentle as his tongue twists against mine and his everything assaults my senses. His scent, masculine and tinged with magic filled my nose. My heart is pounding out of my chest.

I raise my hands to grip him better, and my palms glide up and under his shirt, slipping against bare muscles. He hisses against my lips at the contact, his fist tightening in my hair, and I moan at the sting of the pull. It sends a spark of, of something, straight to my center and my muscles clench around emptiness.

Just like that, Harry the sweet is replaced by another being altogether. His knee finds my bed and he leans into me, pushing me back flat on the mattress and invading my personal space. His other knee lands between my legs, his arm by my head supporting his weight. He nips at my mouth, my lips, my tongue, until I'm dizzy with the feel of him. I kiss him back just as hungrily, my hands around his lower back and my nails exploring his flesh.

He still hasn't shaved, and I'm struck with the hope that when we finally separate, I'll have a beard burn on my cheeks.

"Oi!" Ron cries, and the bedroom door slams shut again.

I didn't even hear it open.

Harry yanks his mouth away but doesn't go any further than that. He collapses onto the bed on top of me, eyes closed and chest heaving.

He starts to laugh quietly, then within seconds, is bursting at the seams.

"This is going to become a problem; I can already tell."

Ron walking in on us? Yeah. A big one.

Us snogging any chance we get? I don't see much of an issue there at all.