AN: Thank you, Tisa, for the sweet guest review. I see you, I appreciate you!

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In the week following Madam Bones' death, there were a slew of changes in the upper echelons of the Ministry of Magic.

Pius Thicknesse was swiftly, unanimously appointed the new Head of the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Considering the abrupt end of the last Head's life, there weren't many others vying for the position.

Rufus Scrimgeour replaced Cornelius Fudge as the new Minister for Magic. Madam Pucey was willing to give the former Head of the Auror Office the benefit of the doubt, but Adrian couldn't help feeling that for all his virtues, Scrimgeour was not a wartime Minister. Perhaps Mr Pucey's dislike of the Aurory had spread to Adrian after all.

The sight of the Dark Mark that inevitably found a place on the front-page of the Daily Prophet alongside these announcements reminded Adrian of the copy of What You Don't Know About You-Know-Who that was relegated to the back of a bookshelf, out of sight. Its mere existence seem to mock him.

When Professor Snape had recommended the book to him during the Triwizard Tournament, he had scanned through it with detached interest. Because back then he had different priorities. But a year later, with the shadows of war looming over them, Adrian sometimes wondered at the Professor's intention behind putting the book in front of him. There may come a time when you find yourself on a threshold, Snape had said. What did Severus double-cross Snape know? Adrian wondered.

Which was why he wrote to Fleur Delacour's letter with some anxiousness.

Fleur was in Britain at the time, staying with the Weasleys. Of all people. Because she was engaged to be married to William "Bill" Weasley, the eldest of the Weasley children.

Adrian was polite and tactful enough in dealing with those parts of her letters, but his lips frowned at another reminder of the war. Surely, she wouldn't rush into marriage if it wasn't for the imminent danger to their lives? Surely, Terrence wouldn't be considering proposing to Ida with such a short courtship?

Fleur extolled the virtues of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in her reply to Adrian.

His eyes glossed over most of it. He knew, by then, more than he needed to about Beauxbatons across the channel, about Ilvermony across the pond, even Mahoutokoro across the world. There was not much point to it, however.

Because Madam Pucey was clear in stating that they couldn't simply send Tiberius elsewhere until the war passed over them. There was nowhere to hide where they couldn't be found.

And Xenophilius Lovegood balked at the very idea of sending Luna away.

Adrian found Madam Pucey in the greenhouse, tending to her flowers.

She turned back at the sound of his footsteps, halted her work, frowned lightly. "Is something the matter?"

He shook his head. "No, mother. I merely have something I need to talk to you about."

She turned back to her flowers. "Something that compelled you to walk all the way out to the gardens? Do you need my complete attention, or shall I continue seeing to my flowers?"

"Either is fine," he replied.

"What's on your mind, dear?" she asked, gentler.

He resisted the urge to kick at a clump of dirt. "I want to ask you to bar Augustus from the house," he said, swallowed.

Her hands paused briefly, and she pressed her lips together. Then, she slowly resumed her work. "What has brought this about?" she asked carefully.

"Other than all the obvious reasons?" he asked, almost casually.

She did not reply, but pinched her lips together tighter.

Adrian lowered his gaze, lightly kicked at the ground. "Ty is on edge. Constantly," he said, softer. So am I, he did not add.

"Tiberius has had a trying experience. He simply needs time to get over it," she reasoned. "Besides, a little more prudence can only do him good."

He frowned lightly at her. "Augustus's… association is putting all of us at risk."

Madam Pucey stopped her work, turned to him. "Equally, his association keeps us out of risk," she defended.

Adrian looked away, pursed his lips together.

"You need time too, I think," she said gently. "A lot of things have changed for you in a very short time. And you've ably handled all of it. I rather suspect, whatever will change in the time yet to come, you will adapt just as well."

He exhaled harshly, turned to her. "I have a date tomorrow."

Madam Pucey blinked at the sudden change in topic. "That's wonderful, dear. Who are you seeing?"

"Hermione Granger," he said.

She furrowed her brows lightly in thought, then her eyes widened as the realization came to her. "Potter's friend."

He lightly narrowed his eyes at the description. "The very one," he confirmed.

She watched him for a few moments, then shook her head lightly. "Do you think it advisable?"

"Why not?" he challenged, even as he tried to suppress his irritation. "Because your brother might have something to say about it?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "I hope you remember that he sired a son with a Muggle-born."

As though he could ever forget. "He's still with them, isn't he?" he countered, harsher. "After they tortured the woman who birthed his son. After they widowed his sister." It left him breathing hard, clenching his jaw in an effort not to scream – after they killed my father.

She looked back to her flowers, the corners of her mouth drawing slightly down. "I expect a greater level of discretion from you, Adrian," Madam Pucey said, soft. "Am I presuming too much?"

Adrian tensed, felt a distant ache building in his jaw. "Forgive me, mother," he said through gritted teeth.

She nodded, lips pressed together.

He bowed his head down, exhaled lightly as he attempted to deliberately relax his muscles. "My point is," he started, calmer. "There's a girl I like. She happens to be Muggle-born. And I want-" he swallowed, thought of his father. "I'd like to know that she's welcome here."

Madam Pucey stepped away from the flowers, seemed to think it over for a few moments. "How long have you been together?" she asked then.

"End of last semester," he replied, looking away to nothing.

She stepped closer to him, took one of his hands in hers. "You understand that I want you to be happy?" she asked, gentler.

He pursed his lips together, nodded.

She gave his hand a squeeze. "You also understand," she added, slower, "that I need you, you and Ty, to be safe?"

Adrian wanted to resent her for it. For making it about him. About Tiberius.

He looked down to his hand in hers, returned her grip, nodded stiffly.

Because he couldn't resent her for it. She didn't tell him to end his still-new relationship. She didn't feed into his fears about anti Muggle-born actions. No, Madam Pucey only reminded him of his responsibilities. To her. To his brother. And if Adrian chose to take on any obligations beyond that, he only had himself to blame, didn't he?

Adrian entered the Muggle pub a tad self-consciously. It was teeming with people, and the weekend crowd looked like it was just starting. With a little trepidation as he tried to keep track of his surroundings, he walked further in, scanning the room. He spied Terrence waving him over from a corner table, exhaled in relief as he walked towards him.

"You look like a twat," Kenneth said, an arm casually draped over the back of his date's chair, an amused smile on his face.

Adrian huffed, smoothed his shirt. "If you must know, my…" he lowered his voice, "… my house-elf lost my Muggle clothes. I had to think fast." He greeted Kenneth's date, Katie Bell, as he took a seat at the table. How Kenneth had convinced her to tag along with them, he still wasn't sure.

"It's all right for a date," Ida remarked, eyeing him critically from her place.

"It's hardly much of a date if you lot are here," he replied. He discretely pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. "Hermione's not here yet?"

"Not unless she's invisible," Terrence said.

Adrian chose to ignore the undertones of his tone.

What Adrian really wanted to do was take Hermione out on a proper date, perhaps tour a library or a garden, or walk through a decent shopping district, end with a dinner-for-two at a good restaurant. There were a number of great establishments he would have loved to introduce her to.

But alas. He was resigned to a Muggle pub in an equally Muggle village because a rogue horde of Giants were sighted mere miles from the restaurant he was eyeing. He did not want to risk their necks for the ideal date.

Hermione entered the pub after a while, her eyes searching the crowd. She was wearing a simple yet elegant Muggle dress, in a light, breezy blue colour that instantly brought to mind the boundless hope of warm summers. Her hair was done up in a way that seemed to age her, her curls softly framing her face.

Adrian found himself immensely grateful for her lack of robes as his eyes lingered on her form.

Her eyes fell on them, and she smiled lightly, eased her way through the crowd towards their table.

Adrian got up from his seat as she neared them.

He was rewarded with her smile widening imperceptibly. "Hi," she said, almost shyly, as she came to a halt before him.

"Hi," he replied, suddenly feeling like a boy with a crush. He stepped back from his seat, indicated she take the inner seat.

Hermione smiled at the others around the table as she took the seat, glancing back towards Adrian when he took the seat next to her.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your lady, Adrian?" Kenneth asked.

Hermione's cheeks reddened at the scrutiny.

Adrian shot Kenneth a warning glance. "Everyone, this is Hermione Granger. As you well know." He looked towards Hermione then. "Hermione. Terrence Higgs, Ida Harvey, Kenneth Foley, I'm sure you know Katie Bell."

She exchanged greetings and hellos with them, her nervousness evident in her tone.

"Right then," Terrence called their attention. "Now that we're all here, this round's on me," he said. He looked in turn to Ida, Kenneth, and Bell. "Help me carry the drinks?"

Kenneth rolled his eyes at the order, but got up to follow the other him and Ida to the bar, tugging Bell with him.

"They could be less be obvious," Adrian murmured to Hermione, once they were out of earshot.

She smiled, leaned closer. "Maybe."

"But as it's serving its purpose in giving us a minute alone, I suppose I shouldn't complain." Adrian slipped his hand to her lower back. "Did you find the place all right?"

"Mhm. I double-checked the location before I left home," she confessed wryly.

He wanted to kiss her smile. "You hair looks different," he commented, then nearly bit his tongue. "Lovely, of course. You look lovely."

She bit her lower lip, lightly touched her half-braided hair. "Thank you," she said, then dropped her eyes to his chest. "Um, you look good too," she added sweetly, flushing lightly.

Adrian smiled. "I've been told I look like a twat."

She put her hand on his forearm, gently rubbed at the arm of his jacket, deliberately ran her eyes over him. "A good-looking twat then," she declared with a straight face.

"I can live with that," he said. And he really wanted to kiss her answering grin.

They left the pub shortly after, travelled to a Muggle market that Kenneth insisted was a must-visit on his list of must-visits. Adrian found no reason to protest otherwise. Not with Hermione's hand in his.

They walked past shop after shop, trying all manner of food, gawking at all kinds of clothes and other wares. The best parts of the market were the ones selling baubles and odd knick-knacks. It really was the biggest reason Adrian agreed to the destination in the first place, because there was a chance of finding an occasional magical item that had slipped past the Ministry and ended up in the hands of Muggles. That, and they were often the strangest Muggle things that reacted in even stranger ways to magic.

Hermione seemed to be as excited as him at the prospect of finding a treasure among the trinkets, tugging him towards whatever she thought was worth taking a second look at.

Ida had the audacity to tease them for being a couple of nerds when they were deeply in discussion about an antique radio. Of course, some people had no appreciation for the fine art of Charms.

And yet, despite the ease of with which they lost themselves among the horde of Muggles, Adrian found that he couldn't completely unwind. He couldn't help but check their backs. He gripped Hermione's hand a little bit tighter every time there was a sudden jump up in the noise level. And every once in a while, he reassured himself that his wand was within reach. That if things went sideways, they were only an apparition away from safety.

From the way Terrence stuck to Ida, Adrian did not doubt that he was in the same boat. Even Kenneth seemed to be reaching for Bell at every turn.

But all things considered, and all things meant the war, their day proceeded without hitch.

As night fell upon them, Adrian saw Hermione to a children's park near her house. That late into the evening, they were the only ones there. In the distance beyond the park, Muggle lights shone in the darkness.

Hermione started to walk away from the secluded corner by the trees they were in.

Adrian caught her hand, tugged her back to him, kissed her firmly before she could give voice to the question at the tip of her tongue. "Are you in a hurry or can I kiss you good night?" he asked in a murmur, nuzzling her cheeks.

"Good night, Adrian," she breathed, stepping closer to him.

He smiled lightly. "Good night, Hermione," he said, resumed the kiss. His fingers tangled in her hair as he pulled her closer, and the want of a mere evening felt like the wait of an eternity.

They moved further into the shadows of the trees, grasping at each other the entire way. He guided her around, pressed her back against a sturdy tree.

Briefly, their lips parted. And Adrian thought he ought to say something in the small stillness that was punctuated only by their heavy breaths. Something smart, something sexy. But his pounding heart was far too busy sending all his blood downstairs.

Hermions, eyes blazing, glided her hands up from his chest to his neck, tugged him back to her again.

He pressed his lips to hers, then lightly bit at her lower lip, earning a small moan from her. Pressing closer to her, he nipped at her again, then sucked her lower lip into his mouth, caressed the bite with his tongue.

He flexed his palms at her waist, trying not to run it up to her breasts that he felt heaving against his chest.

He released her lip, chased her tongue with his instead.

She raked her nails through his hair.

And his hips pressed against her.

Their kiss broke.

Adrian pressed his forehead to hers, his breathing hot and hard against her lips, and focused on caressing her waist in an effort not to press his hardness harder into her middle.

"I should go," Hermione said, soft, caressing his chest.

Adrian brought a hand up to cup her face. "I thought we were having a good night," he murmured, looking entreatingly at her.

She bit her lower lip, slowly, deliberately arched her hips towards his.

He inhaled raggedly, did not break her gaze, did not dare move.

"We are," she confirmed. "I should go before it gets too good." She remained pressed against him for a brief moment, tempting and promising, then she moved back.

He exhaled deeply, moved a hand to stroke her hair. "You're a tease," he said.

She smiled, self-satisfied. "You started it."

"Hm. I could finish it too," he said, eyebrows raised, suggestive.

She chuckled lightly, gently shoved him away from her. "Good night, Adrian."

"When will I see you next?" he asked, serious, catching one of her wrists in his hand.

She started smoothing her dress. "When do you want to see me?" she asked.

Tonight? Tomorrow? Or was that his prick answering for him? He shook his head. "Next weekend? I can apparate to this park," he suggested.

"I'm going to the Burrow, to Ron's, remember?" Hermione said, a bit distractedly as she attempted to fix her hair.

Adrian gently let go of her hand, pursed his lips in an attempt not to frown. He remembered from her letters. Something about Potter's birthday. Something about Potter's emotional state after having lost his godfather. Something about Harry Potter.

"Of course," he acknowledged, smoothed his shirt, ran his fingers through his hair to tidy it. "I suppose I'll see you some other time then." Some other time? Once term resumed? He really was a fool.

He found himself thinking about her parents, for some reason, sending their only daughter away for nine months of the year to a school they couldn't even visit. And then, she wanted to spend half her holidays at a friend's house. It was unfathomable to Adrian, it felt wrong. After all, he had never spent any significant length of time during the holidays, summer or winter, away from his family.

"Can you apparate to Ottery St Catchpole?" she asked, smiling coyly.

He furrowed his brows lightly.

"Or Devon," she added. "I really don't fancy taking the bus," she confessed, a bit sheepish.

"Would you be able to get away from the Weasleys', from your friends?" he asked, ignoring the sudden hope in his fool of a heart.

She scoffed lightly. "They're going to play Quidditch every minute they can. They won't miss me up in the air," she stated. "I'd much rather see you anyway. Unless you don't want to…"

"I do," he said, swift, apparently still thinking with his prick.

"Will you apparate to me then?" she asked, stepping closer again, imploring. "Please?"

He sighed pretentiously. "If I must."

She smiled wider, pressed a swift kiss to his cheek.