Hermione stumbled with the force of Apparition, crashing into her old dresser and throwing her hands on the top to steady herself. In her panic she had fled to the first safe place in her mind, her home. But this was the wrong home, her old home, and there was an abandoned feeling to it despite the familiar walls and furniture. She braced herself for the expected emotional flood of guilt and shame that had haunted this space in her past, but it didn't come. Maybe it was because she had let go of that pain when she walked the path of knowledge. Maybe it was because there was no room to feel anything else in the wake of what had happened with Malfoy.

What the fuck had happened with Malfoy?

She tottered over to her bed and collapsed across the top of it, still a bit unsteady. A cloud of dust puffed up around her, and she had to jump back up coughing. She activated her wand holster, catching her wand neatly in her hand, and scourgified her bed before doing an air cleansing charm. The familiar spells had a calming effect on her, and she felt much more centered when she flopped back down on her bed and stared at the familiar ceiling. She needed to just calm down.

On one hand, she was relieved to be away from Draco's warm touch and intense stare and the kiss that was not to be. On the other hand, she was embarrassed that she had run away like a scared child, virtue fluttering. A kiss would have been so natural after what they had shared; she had wanted to validate their union with a physical expression, and much to her surprise Malfoy had wanted to do that, too. But when the moment was interrupted she had fled. What must he think of her?

It was probably for the best, she told herself. She didn't need to be letting her physical attraction layered with magical ramifications interfere with what was supposed to be a cut and dry business arrangement. Yes, the engagement ceremony had rocked her to her emotional and magical core and had seemingly changed everything, and certainly the way she viewed Malfoy and herself. But that didn't mean she needed to pull up roots and get swept away in the power of it. One moment led to another moment, and where would she be now if she had decided to throw caution to the wind and just indulge in what were most likely fleeting desire?

She had always been careful to try and keep some distance. Magic was seductive, it was easy. Power flowed through you down the path of least resistance, and if you were not watchful, it would pull you with it. She had standards, morals, boundaries. Walking the path of knowledge had stripped all that structure away and it had felt wonderful. But now that she had a few moments to process her thoughts, she needed to decide how she wanted to build her defenses back up, how she wanted to approach this clean new self and interact with the world. Kissing Malfoy would have added a whole new layer of complication to that process that she didn't need.

The twisted thing was she couldn't help but wonder just what that kiss would have been like. Since the moment she found out that Malfoy was bidding on her, she had been dwelling pretty consistently on what it would be like to be physically intimate with this guy she had known for years but was practically a stranger. She had pictured him cold, mocking, maybe even mean.

Now that mental image was blown to bits replaced with his warm touch and soft breath and tingling nerves of anticipation. Maybe if they had kissed, her curiosity would have been satisfied. From previous experience, curiosity would have been the only thing that was satisfied. The reality was often a let down when it came to physical interactions. If she had let him kiss her, she wouldn't be obsessing about it now, she'd be over it and could move on.

Moving on. That was what she needed to focus on. Not Malfoy's gunmetal stare or his full bottom lip or the warmth of his touch on her waist. Those thoughts were not productive and needed to be filed away for a later time. Right now she needed to focus on her repeal, dealing with the Ron problem, helping Ginny and Harry, studying for her NEWTS, getting an apprenticeship.

Remembering just how soft Malfoy's lips were when he kissed her arm in front of everyone was not a priority. Couldn't be. Malfoy was not a part of her future, and even if she did want him to be he would never be interested anyway.

She heaved herself up off her old bed and walked around aimlessly, checking if there was anything left behind that was of importance. She also needed to decide if she should sell this old house or keep it. Her parents had deeded her the property, completely content in their new life in Australia. Even after their memories had been restored, there had been a strange disconnect from their previous life. Her mother hadn't reached out to any of their old friends, they hadn't called their church, they hadn't called their business associates. Somehow, without meaning to, Hermione had altered the feelings associated with the old memories, the unintended consequences of magic blowing up in her face rather spectacularly. Her mother and father tried, acted like they loved her, but Hermione didn't feel it the way she did before. The memories that her parents had of their daughter were numbed somehow. She knew she needed to work on that relationship, create new memories with all the warmth and love of the old ones.

She just hadn't been ready yet.

For the first time since she had lifted those spells from her parents, saw the blank and distrustful way they stared at her as she tried to explain what she had done, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she could begin to tackle the disaster she had made of her relationship with her parents. Repair it somehow. She had been hiding from this terrible burden for months now, putting off even thinking about what to do.

Now, for the first time, she was able to think about the problem without the shame and guilt and pain associated with how very wrong she had been to abuse her parents with magic. Stealing their memories without their permission. Taking their choice away. It had been wrong. The excuses for her behavior had fallen away along with a lot of the pain and resentment, and now she felt like she could begin to heal. Help her parents heal.

Feeling suddenly purposeful Hermione stopped in the hallway and stared at the only photograph left on the wall, Hermione standing alone next to the ocean. All the other photos of family and friends had been packed up and moved to Australia when she had come through the house with a whirlwind of magic, packing and shipping her parents things off to their new life. But this photo, and any other thing in the house that had any association with Hermione, had been left behind.

She found an abandoned box in the hallway, dusty and torn, and repaired it with a simple spell. Then she made her way through the house, room by room, pulling the evidence of her childhood off the walls. She cushioned each photo that had been left behind to protect her parents from the memory of their own daughter before placing them in the box neatly. She found report cards and letters and cards and artwork, and had to start shrinking it all down to fit in the box. She had no right to deny her parents these keepsakes. If she wanted to repair that relationship than the first thing she needed to do was return them.


Hermione had run a bit late packing up her keepsakes and arrived back to Hogwarts after she planned so she was only paying minimal attention to her surroundings as she bustled down the hall towards one of many staircases that would lead to Gryffindor Tower. Her busy mind was cataloging and thinking about all of the many things she needed to do. It was soothing to plan out her day, her week, her month. The usual anxiety that accompanied thinking about her many responsibilities and people depending on her and limited time and resources didn't surface. She was reminded of her youth when she used to love to make plans and lists before life intruded with all its difficulties.

First, she would meet up with Ginny and Harry and get the lowdown about what was really going on with their situation and figure out exactly how she needed to be helping. Then, she needed to tackle the Ron problem before bed or she would never get to sleep. Her meeting with Malfoy's lawyers was in the morning before classes, so she would need to binge on her notes and her schoolwork tonight or get up extra early. It was fortunate that her little nap had left her so rested. She would just remind Malfoy firmly, but gently, when she saw him that their relationship needed to stay professional; she was sure his logical mind would appreciate that. Her biggest emotional problem needed to be sorting out her parental issues, and she would start that project by taking the shrunken box in her pocket to Australia on Saturday morning. Busy, but productive. Just how she liked to be.

So it wasn't that she didn't see Blaise Zabini coming towards her in the hall. She just didn't realize the murderous look on his face was directed at her until he grabbed her arm in a punishing grip, jerking her forcefully to a stop, and spinning her around to face him. His mouth was open in a snarl, clearly about to say something angrily, when it happened.

Before he could get a word out, almost instantly, a charge of energy went through her body and did something to Blaise that jerked him away from her. She watched him fly through the air, hands wide open, magical energy crackling around him wildly, until he hit the wall with enough force to crack the stone before he crumpled in an unmoving heap. Zapped was the only word that came to mind, but it fell short of the sizzling smell of burnt hair, the extreme force, the backlash of magic that caused her to stumble several steps in the opposite direction almost tripping over someone. The someone turned out to be Malfoy who had apparated into the hallway behind her with a familiar crack.

She didn't have to turn and look to know who was suddenly in the hallway with her. She felt his presence hit her like an icy breeze and was immediately aware of exactly how close they were as the magic that tied them together buzzed to life.

He steadied her with his warm strong hands on her shoulders for a heartbeat, asking her if she was okay. She barely got a nod out before he was sprinting across the hall to check on Blaise, and Hermione followed him quickly, a terrible urgency overwhelming her as she realized that Blaise had not moved an inch. They got him stretched out between the two of them as fast as possible, confirming that no breath stirred his chest, no heartbeat pulsed with life. Malfoy immediately began the resuscitation spells they had all learned in fourth year Charms while Hermione used her wand to summon help.

It was over in a matter of moments. One second she was walking down the hall, busy with her own concerns, the next Madam Pomfrey was pushing her aside to give her classmate medical aid. McGonagall came running up the hallway, her robes hiked to her knees, and for some reason that image struck Hermione as funny. She had to swallow a laugh that turned into a sob as she watched her frantic teachers work to restore her classmate. She ruthlessly pushed her useless tears away and hugged herself to stop her trembling. With other staff members on the scene, Malfoy joined her up against the wall, and much to her chagrin, she was deeply comforted when he put an arm around her and pulled her into his side offering his stability.

Blaise let out a rasping cough, dragging in a raggedy breath before turning on his side to vomit on the floor, and Hermione let out a shaky, relieved sound of her own.

He wasn't dead.

That was all she could think.

He wasn't dead. She hadn't killed someone for touching her. He wasn't dead.

She watched with an almost numb detachment as other teachers arrived, other students jostling each other trying to see what had happened, and her view of Blaise was quickly blocked. However, when he climbed to his feet shakily, with Madam Pomfrey carefully helping him up, he was tall enough to be seen over the other students, who broke into applause. The two of them pushed through the crowd, which quickly gave way, and Blaise didn't so much as glance in her direction as they passed her, presumably on their way to the Hospital Wing.

A hush fell ominously when McGonagall turned her attention to the pair of them, wiping her soiled hands on her robes and frowning quite intensely.

"The two of you will wait in my office."

She felt every eye in the area zoom in on her as people realized that they had something to do with Blaise being injured. Someone shuffled to the left, revealing that Ron was part of the crowd, staring at her with his mouth a little open, and suddenly she was extremely conscious of the fact that Malfoy had his arm wrapped comfortingly around her and she was unabashedly leaning into his warmth.

Trying to pretend it was no big deal, she straightened up casually and wiped her damp hands down her skirt. Malfoy immediately made things easier for her by releasing her and gesturing for her to proceed him through the crowd in a natural transition that didn't feel like they were guiltily springing apart.

Eager to be away from the gawkers and get some answers to her tumbling questions, for once she set the quick pace Malfoy liked, and they were alone in a few moments.

"How did you Apparate inside Hogwarts? That shouldn't be possible?" she fired off her first question.

"I don't know, I almost fell on my ass. One second I was sitting at my desk, the next second I had to straighten my legs before I crashed to the floor. What the hell happened before I got there?"

Hermione gave him a sidelong look, realizing he was in casual clothes. A long sleeved white cotton shirt and a pair of lounge pants. Her gaze flickered down to find his feet encased in green socks covered in little golden snitches. She blinked and refocused, but the cheerful socks remained.

"I don't know," she answered unhelpfully, giving him a quick apologetic smile. "One second I was walking along, Blaise grabbed my arm, and then chaos."

Malfoy laid his hand on her shoulder, gently bringing her to a halt and turning her so he could look her over from head to toe with a unsettling appraising manner. "A casual touch shouldn't have caused that sort of magical backlash, you must have felt threatened." He reached out a single finger, running it lightly along the quickly darkening red splotches on her arm that would most likely turn to bruises, causing goosebumps to break out in his wake. Blaise's fingermarks stood out in sharp relief on her skin, an imprint of exactly where we had touched her.

"I don't know," she stressed again. "He was really angry, and he startled me and grabbed me. He didn't have time to threaten me; he didn't have time to do anything."

Malfoy glanced down the hallway, checking to see they were alone, and then stepped closer into her space so he could speak more quietly. "Listen," he said urgently, "We have to come up with a plan to handle this situation."

"You think I could be in trouble," she concluded. Intentional or not, she had assaulted another student and almost killed him.

"I think you are Hermione Granger and have evidence on your person that Blaise laid his hands on you. At most, you'll get a sanction, and if my lawyers have anything to say about it not even that." He said matter of factly, running both hands through his slightly disheveled hair, putting it to rights in an instant. "What I think we have to worry about is why Blaise would be so stupid in the first place. Zabini is pureblood, he had to have known that attacking you would have some sort of magical consequence. So either he was so furious that you went through with the engagement that he lost his head completely, or he had some more nefarious reason for attacking you."

"You actually think Zabini would almost die for some agenda?" Hermione scoffed. Malfoy seemed convinced that everything was a conspiracy. She wondered if that was due more to his family, or his house, or his own personal nature.

"Of course not." Malfoy rolled his eyes aggressively, crossing his arms and pulling his shirt tight across his broad shoulders. "He probably just didn't realize how powerful your protection would be. Maybe he thought I'd do something substandard because of the marriage law, or maybe he thought he'd have to be more aggressive to trigger such a serious backlash; I don't know what he thought." Malfoy shook his head, clearly annoyed. "What I do know is we have to handle this very carefully. This will set a precedent for how these matters are dealt with in the future."

Hermione bit her lip, looking down in thought to avoid staring at Malfoy, very aware that they were standing almost as close now as they had been when he had almost kissed her only a few hours prior. Paranoid or not, he did have a tendency to be right. The war was over, she wasn't in danger of being attacked randomly. But Malfoy seemed very concerned over it, and she didn't want to just dismiss him. "I'm not sure I understand why you are so worried."

"Think about it for a few minutes. You are not the only witch who will be walking around with these sorts of spells this year. A lot of the very old families have them, and the ministry is requiring everything be done according to custom. Blaise knows enough about my family to know that a Malfoy bride-to-be wouldn't be walking around defenseless. We have to consider that he has done this on purpose in order to engineer a response."

"Malfoy, I think you are blowing this out of proportion. It doesn't make sense that there is some evil plot. Zabini just got carried away," she soothed him. Looking up at his distressed features, furrowed brow, tight lips, angry eyes, she realized he was really upset about this.

"Carried away? He laid his fucking hands on you. I could demand the maximum sentence and have him thrown in Azkaban for thirty days for daring to touch touch what's mine." Suddenly he was closer, his anger more focused, more fierce, and Hermione resisted the urge to step back from his fury. As his emotion escaped his control, that weird resonating effect of their bond acted up again, she could feel an echo of his feelings.

"I am not yours," she reminded him calmly, ignoring the weird jump in her stomach at his declaration.

"Legally, you are. No one follows these ancient old laws and customs anymore, but they are still valid. Potter's already trotted out old pureblood law to get his marriage to Weasley pushed through, and he isn't the only one who might try to use old law to their advantage. Some of these laws are pretty nasty. Technically, the school isn't even allowed to punish you. You are my ward. They would have to punish me, and then I would have to punish you."

"You even think about punishing me and I'll have your ass for a hat," Hermione said sharply, poking him squarely in the middle of his chest, just over his crossed arms, in order to get her point across.

"What?" he barked, as if she had just spoken a separate language. His brow knitted in confusion. "That's not even-"

"-What exactly do you propose we do?" Hermione interrupted briskly. They didn't have time to argue; they were supposed to be on their way to McGonagall's office.

He blinked at her, refocusing, and then checked the hallway again, confirming they were alone. "I think we ought to make a big deal that your safety was threatened on school grounds. Even call in my lawyers, demanding that the school guarantee your right to be unmolested. And I think, even though it might make you uncomfortable, we ought to emphasize my legal standing as your ward. That way any repercussions, which I don't think you will have any, would fall squarely on me."

"What purpose would that serve?" she asked, biting her lip again in confusion. That was the thing about conversation with Malfoy. She never could predict what he would say. Speaking with him was a lighting fast back and forth that shifted like the wind, and sometimes she felt like she was just sprinting to catch up.

With another paranoid glance around, he took her arm casually and started walking again. Hermione ignored the rash of goosebumps at his touch and the way her magic seemed to reach out and soak up his presence. Now that she was so intensely aware of her magical aura, she was noticing how it interacted with the world. She wondered if her magic's seemingly fascination with Malfoy was her own curiosity or a result of their binding.

"I just want to set a precedent that the person who cast the protection spells in the first place is responsible for the outcome," Malfoy answered lowly. "That way no one tries to use them to press charges. The old families are going to have legal protection like we do, the Muggleborns are not going to have that same safety net."

"How many of these other families have spells like yours does?" Hermione asked, insanely curious, keeping pace with him easily as he had slowed to accommodate her shorter stride.

"None like ours. It takes centuries of blood magic and reinforcement to enact protection like what you have. You have enough magic wrapped around you to level this entire building if need be. But most older families do cast some sort of protective magic on their offspring and brides. There was a law passed over a hundred years ago that kids need to be stripped of such violent protections while they attended school in order to protect the other children from unintended magical damage. My guess is that the school is going to try to insist that you can't attend while protected, and I'm going to insist that not only did the marriage law clause insist that you have such protections and that your education can not be interfered with, but that based on Blaise's attack, you need that protection."

Hermione seethed with frustration. "Why didn't we straighten all this out before we did the spells?"

He stopped again, looking over at her quite seriously, and Hermione was reminded again of their very serious conversation they'd had at the manor. Something about the way he was looking at her reminded her of the way he'd looked at her lips like he wanted to devour them whole. "Honestly, I never expected anyone to be stupid enough to touch you after we were engaged. I never thought it would come up while you were in school."

She suppressed a shiver. "So how do we contact your lawyers?"

His already gentle touch on her arm softened, and he trailed his fingers down until he reached her hand, grasping it, intertwining their fingers, just as casual as if he held her hand everyday. "Come on, I know the password, let's use McGonagall's Floo before she gets there."

Hermione wished she had some control over the goosebumps that broke out over her arms and thighs and hoped desperately that he didn't notice. He gave her a small sideways grin and tugged on their joined hands to get them going again, walking too fast now to encourage further conversation.


They were not left cooling their heels for too long. No sooner had Malfoy ended his Floo communications with his legal teams' secretary, McGonagall was coming into the office and shutting the door firmly behind her. Her eyes flickered to the still green fireplace, to Malfoy, and finally landed on Hermione who was sitting primly in front of the desk. The headmistress took her seat, folded her hands tightly in front of her, and gave them a small flat smile that had Hermione more nervous than one of Snape's infamous pop quizzes. "Well, we have a bit of a situation on our hands," she began in her brisk manner. "Mister Zabini's parents have been contacted and are predictably distraught, I have a student in sickbay, and the Ministry has already been here yesterday looking for you."

"I've already taken care of the mental health evaluation problem," Malfoy stated calmly. "My lawyers are handling it. Your school shouldn't be invaded with such nonsense in the future."

"Well, that is a welcome relief," McGonagall said with a sigh. "Now we need to decide what to do about this incident before the ministry and the lawyers and the parents get involved."

Hermione felt such a fond warm reflex surge up in her at McGonagall's support that she wanted to fling her arms around the woman and give her a fierce hug, but restrained herself knowing that the Headmistress would not appreciate such a display. She exchanged a look with Malfoy, amused at the fleeting look of surprise on his face at the blatant show of support.

"Malfoy is concerned that if we don't set a precedent now that we have done nothing wrong, it may become an ongoing problem for not only us, but other students."

McGonagall gave Malfoy another appraising look, nodding her head. She whipped out a piece of parchment for notes and said, "Alright, tell me everything that happened."

Hermione found herself wishing that she had more information to give. The story was simple and short. McGonagall directed Malfoy to take a picture of her now bruising arm for evidence and spent a few minutes jotting down her thoughts before speaking again. "You had no control over the activation of this magic, how it manifested, the level of force employed?"

Hermione shook her head no, and McGonagall frowned down at her parchment. "Well, that does present a problem for the school. These spells create a magical danger for every other student at the school if they activate just off of feelings and you have no control over them."

Malfoy took a seat on the chair next to Hermione and threw his hand up over the back of her chair, not touching her but all the same implying...something. He casually placed one socked foot over his knee, and McGonagall goggled at the little Golden Snitches for a second before visibly forcing herself to look away and make polite eye contact.

"Hermione is only magically dangerous if someone lays their hands on her," Malfoy clarified. "She could be terrified, and as long as everyone kept their hands to themselves the most that would happen is I would be pulled to her side. I don't think it's an unreasonable standard in a school for my ward to enjoy a relatively safe environment where she doesn't have to worry about being physically assaulted."

This was her chance. Her change to protest Malfoy claiming legal custody of her out loud. For some reason she couldn't even fathom, she trusted him on this one. They would have to talk about it later, but for now, she let the claim just lay there out in reality and enjoyed McGonagall's eyebrows shooting up in surprise. The woman looked over at her, clearly expecting the inevitable protest, but Hermione remained silent and simply shrugged her shoulders.

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall began with a sigh, "While I appreciate your candor, I simply can not allow Miss Granger to go about assaulting fellow students who get in her way, even if she can't control it."

"I didn't assault anyone," Hermione cried, feeling a little panicky. She hadn't assaulted Blaise. He had just activated protective spells. It wasn't the same thing.

"To be clear, Blaise assaulted her, not the other way around," Malfoy insisted firmly. "She's got the proof on her arm. All he had to do was keep his filthy paws to himself, and there wouldn't be a problem. He'll be lucky if I don't press charges."

"That isn't the issue." McGonagall said firmly but kindly, "Of course Miss Granger is blameless in this situation. But students need to feel safe here. Usually these types of protection spells are not allowed on school grounds, precisely to avoid situations like this one."

"Safe," Malfoy almost snarled, dropping his arm and leaning forward. "Hermione doesn't deserve to feel safe? I'll point it out again, Blaise grabbed her with evil intent. She has done nothing wrong and is no danger to anyone whatsoever if they don't assault her. We can make an announcement at breakfast if you think it will help. No one go around bruising up Miss Granger if they don't want to get zapped."

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall started again, with clearly strained patience, "You need to understand...:"

"No," Malfoy interrupted. "You need to understand. Hermione is no longer one of your vulnerable Muggleborns who can be pushed around and manipulated. She has the full weight of House Malfoy behind her. This mess isn't falling in Hermione's lap. We will not be held responsible for this fuckery. If you want to use this incident as a way to go after the stupid ass ministry law, you have the full support of the Malfoys. Hermione isn't the one who insisted on these spells that violate school policy. I formally protested the requirement, but the Ministry point blank insisted. We can either go after the Ministry as a team on this issue, or if you want to play games, you can speak with my lawyers."

The Headmistress's lips tightened angrily, and she set her quill down with a firm click. "I'm going to be totally honest with you, Mr. Malfoy. This law is garbage and a complete violation of everything that this school stands for. I can definitely appreciate your willingness to use your political clout to protect yourself, your ward, and your fellow students from further intrusion, and I'd like to use that willingness to its full potential."

McGonagall leaned back in her chair, giving Malfoy her customary tight lipped smile. "The purpose of this meeting is not to place any blame on Miss Granger or yourself. The purpose of this meeting is for the three of us to figure out the best way to handle this situation. Now Mr Zabini's parents, his lawyers, the school board, the Ministry...all of these people are going to want to address how Miss Granger is a danger to other students. We need to present a united front."

Malfoy relaxed back into his chair as well, his arm coming back up around the back of his chair, the infamous socked foot coming casually back to rest on his knee. Hermione watched fascinated as he wiggled his toes. The silence stretched on a little too long, and Hermione was trying to think of something to say that would break the standoff when Malfoy finally spoke, "In that case, I'm at your disposal."


Hermione hurried to Gryffindor tower, hoping to grab a private moment with Harry and Ginny before everyone went to bed. Her mind was spinning with all of the plans to deal with the Ministry interference at the school. There had been quite a bit more drama going on than Hermione had realized dealing with her own issues. It was clear that with Dumbledore gone the Ministry and the school board was testing the new headmistress to see how much they could get away with. She hadn't realized just how much influence Draco had as head of House Malfoy, despite the fact that he was still a student. The Headmistress's relief to have him on her side seemed almost overblown until Malfoy's legal team had arrived and had immediately started to work.

Starting to actually work on the bigger problem of the law and Ministry bullying on a broader scale than what affected just her and her friends was very encouraging to her personally. In some twisted way, she was actually grateful for the incident with Blaise because the situation had put Malfoy in a room with McGonagall and good things would come out of the whole mess. She paused briefly at the intersection of hallways that would lead her down towards the hospital wing but ultimately decided checking on Zabini would have to wait until tomorrow, This whole fiasco had put her way behind on her agenda for the rest of the day, and she still had schoolwork to complete.

She was disappointed to find the common room empty with the exception of a lone student who had fallen asleep with her face down in a potions textbook and two students playing chess by the fire. The meeting had run late, but she had hoped that her friends would stay up late. She couldn't wait to hear what sort of rumors were flying about what happened and get more info on Ginny's situation with her parents. Slightly defeated, she made her way up to the girls dormitories and then up the extra flight of stairs to her personal room.

Ron was waiting for her, tie off, shoes discarded haphazardly next to the window.

"Ronald," she exclaimed in greeting. She was both happy to see him and slightly apprehensive. She noticed his broom leaning up against the window and frowned. "You know you are not supposed to skirt the house rules by flying up here."

"I needed to see you," he answered defensively, and she sighed good naturedly, setting her things down and kicking out of her own shoes.

"Then you should have waited downstairs instead of breaking the rules," she chided, plopping down on the bed beside him. She didn't know what to do. Usually, she greeted him with a kiss, which was no longer a possibility. She didn't know how to tell him that their relationship was on hold for sure until this ministry mess was solved, and she didn't want to deal with his jealousy over Malfoy touching her, and she didn't want to fight. What she wanted was to be able to lean on her friend and tell him about everything that was going on.

"So I guess this is where you break up with me," he blurted out, his blue eyes shining with wetness but no tears. "Lets get that over with so I can deal with it."

"Oh, Ron," she whispered, her heart breaking.

"It's okay, Hermione." He patted her hand in that awkward way he had when he was trying to comfort her. "I knew this was coming, I just didn't want to accept it."

"Well, I didn't!" she exclaimed, irritated with herself and the situation and life in general.

"I know you didn't, but after that ceremony, now you know."

For a moment she was back in the Malfoy garden, holding Draco's hand, as the vows they had taken sank inside her, became part of her. Staring in his silver eyes, telling him that yes she was his. "Yes," she repeated, her voice gone slightly thick, "now I know."

"Okay, then. I volunteered to wait up for you and find out what happened." He changed the topic, moving his hand away from her and staring at the wall.

She sat silently for a few minutes, trying to figure out what to say to make this better. But there was nothing to say. They couldn't be together at all right now. It was out of her hands, and she didn't want to hurt him. There were no simple answers. Finally, haltingly, she began telling him about what had happened with Blaise and the way he leaned into her space, interested, angry on her behalf, supportive, almost made things worse. She almost felt like she wanted him to yell at her, throw things, break things. But instead Ron was being the mature, respectful boy that she always insisted that she wanted.

After she was all caught up with her news, she asked about Alice, and his face got very dark. "I don't think things are going to work out with Alice. That picture they sent me was not at all current. She must be forty years old!"

"You're kidding!" Hermione breathed, flabbergasted.

"Maybe older," Ron threw up his hands, "It's hard to tell with witches. She could be sixty for all I know, but she is like mom age for sure."

"Well, I don't like that they didn't tell you up front how old she was," Hermione said firmly. "That takes her out of the running for sure."

"Right, so back at square one there. And my family is no help since everyone is losing their mind about Ginny's condition. I mean what did they expect her to do? Just go along with the ministry and marry some Muggleborn rather than fight for Harry?"

"It's that bad?" she asked gently, reaching out and squeezing his knee in a comforting way. He leaned over, and placed his head on her shoulder. Her vows didn't even twitch a little bit so she gently rubbed his back, reassured that this was completely platonic, and relieved that she wasn't so bound she couldn't be physical at all with her closest friends. It was like Flamel said, she set her own boundaries, and with this proof she felt much more comfortable in her own skin.

"I can't believe how they are acting. It was a full blown Weasley meltdown. And then afterward, after the slamming doors and the screaming stopped, Ginny just cried and cried. I've never wanted to punch my dad in the face before, but now I'm losing my mind."

"It'll work out," she assured him gently, hurting for his whole family. "You know how that Weasley temper is. It burns bright and hot, and then there is nothing left but the apologies."

He gave a little sniffle and sat up abruptly, discreetly wiping his eyes. "I'm sure you are right."

"I usually am," she quipped, putting her nose in the air in a swotty way and managed to get a little smile from him.

"Before I forget," Ron handed her an appointment card, "We are all meeting in McGonagall's office at 7:00 a.m. to Floo over to the courthouse for the emergency hearing and hopefully get Harry and Ginny shackled."

She stared down at the card, both dismayed and relieved.

"Are you supposed to bring gifts to a shotgun wedding do you think?" she asked and Ron barked out a startled laugh that had her smiling too.


Big Thank you to LightofEvolution for going over this chapter and cleaning up the grammar. Any mistakes are mine.