(A/N)Thanks for the patience! Honestly... I've had my work cut out to even get on the PC! I've done 2 weeks work experience, more essays than I have limbs, I have to make a speech for a crowd of fifty people and finally I'm tired. 6:30am – 4:30pm and I'm 16... *epic yawn*

On with the next chapter...

Harry walked out of Gringotts a happy wizard, he couldn't wait to take a proper look at his tattoos. He could finally remove his shirt and the scarred skin would be barely visible, the marred skin had been the cause of his much-lacking confidence.

Now it could be barely see and he had an awesome set of tattoos covering his back. He could finally remove his shirt and not be embarrassed.

He had wondered what it would be like to go for a swim in the lake, the idea was appealing now he could swim. The days spent at the Potter Manor had done him a wealth of good he had changed for the better.

He wondered if Hermione would like to swim with him. While the idea sounded excellent they would no doubt attract a massive crowd. The boy-who-lived and his girlfriend- their classmates didn't know about their marriage- would certainly be a sight to witness.

Oh well, they wouldn't ruin his time with Hermione.

"I'm glad I got that done, I didn't like those scars; even with the potions, they didn't fade." Harry was so happy, he was overjoyed.

Hermione looked at him with love in her honey-brown eyes. "I think it's fantastic you got it done, Harry. I was apprehensive when you said 'tattoos' but they really looked good." She gave him a look which Harry couldn't really define, but made his knees feel weaker.

She moved closer and hugged him, arms around his neck. He ever so slightly winced, before shrugging it off and hugging her back. When she led him down small alley between the pet shop and Madam Malkins, his heartbeat quickened.

They were lost in eachother for the next quarter of an hour.

The couple went back to school, clothes rumpled and hair mussed, and were unsurprised to find that professor Dumbledore wasn't around.

They moved to their classes, which were now exactly the same as each-others, and suffered through a History of Magic while enjoying ancient runes immensely.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?" She replied, holding his hand and snuggling into his side while walking.

"Shall we go for a prank about?"

She grinned crazily back at him. "Let's do it. But end it with something funny so people don't become terrified."

During their next two lessons, both Harry and Hermione completed the work as quickly as they could, while preparing spells for their prank.

They finished off their classes and went to the great hall, intending to see if their friends wanted to have a prank around.

A good scare may be a good laugh, but it would be terrifying so they resolved to make a joke out of Voldemort's face, based on what Harry could tell from his Dementor-induced memories.

Gellert Grindelwald, former Dark Lord, previous master of the Elder wand and Lord of Nuremgard finally had too much. He couldn't stand wandering this prison for one more day. He was sick of this whole place; he wanted, no he needed, to get outside and feel the wind on his face and the spray of the sea .

The thin-shouldered, gaunt, pale old man, with robes that clung to his thin figure almost like a second skin walked through his former command centre. Back in the good ol' days it would be teeming with representatives from his allies and dozens of his wizard troops.

Albus had been a fool to think he, Grindelwald, would build a prison that wouldn't let him out. The years spent in his prison or fortress gave him time to charge the power core for Nuremgard to a breaking point; filled with Grindelwald's immense magical power.

His cell at Nuremgard didn't last a week before he, Grindelwald, took to walking round his fortress/prison. He had blown the wards on his cell door away with a blast of raw magic and had gone outside.

He had become reliant on wandless spell-casting so much so that, when he had found a target, he had used the killing curse at it- the green light spurted from his fingertips.

Now, after years of practising and training, Grindelwald was ready to take his place in the wizarding world once more; wand or no wand.

He no long had that thirst for murder and bloodshed anymore, the years of being patient had worked wonders. "Riec," He murmured, in a voice hoarse from disuse. The wandless spell began building it's power, waiting to discharge upon his command.

The power focus at the top of Nuremgard began to crackle and violently spark with lightning, as an powerful, old man began remembering the power he possessed.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was at the top of his to-do list. The ego-filled prick had the nerve to call himself a Dark Lord without facing off against the previous one, as was tradition. Voldemort would look like a tame kitten before Grindelwald's rage.

There was no doubt who was the stronger of the two, now all he had to do was leave and push his will upon the self-proclaimed Dark Lord.

Oh, he couldn't wait to get his hands on- if the rumours were true - snake face. He released his grasp on the power core and allowed the wards to be recharged to full and a pulse to be sent to Europe. He wanted everyone knowing what was going to happen.

But before he paid anyone a visit, he was going to meet his great- godson- Sirius Black. One of Grindelwald's last remaining servants had reported Black's wrongful imprisoning fourteen years ago.

"Soon. Oh so very soon I will be reunited with my wand and the respect I once had. I believe I will talk to the renowned Lord Potter." Grindelwald murmured, smiling crookedly.

Both Voldemort and Dumbledore recognised the power pulsing from Germany. Only one man there had the magical strength to be felt in Britain; Grindelwald.

The two men were terrified of Grindelwald, though it was for completely different reasons.

Dumbledore was scared of his old friend coming back and dealing out a suitable punishment to everyone, which would probably lead to the slaughter of the majority of wizarding Britain.

If the Elder wand ever found it's former master, the consequences would be severe. It was said that he who possesses the Deathstick twice will become it's undisputed master for the rest of their lives, unless it was given up of it's own free will.

That was something that he couldn't allow. He had to get out of here; an impossible task.

Baby Moldywart was terrified that the thought of the Grindelwald defeating him, which would lead to Voldemort's death-eaters leaving him.

That couldn't happen, Lord Grindelwald had to be stopped. Voldemort would have to quicken his plans and rebuild his body faster, so he would be able to call upon his armies.

"Crouch!"

Amelia Bones was almost jumping for joy, Lucius had been found and with fifty aurors on their way to grab him and deal with the muggle population that was rumoured to be under the imperious curse- hence fifty aurors and not five.

The aged and retired Master auror, Alastor 'mad-eye' Moody had been recalled into service again. With his cleverness and aggression in dealing with death-eaters he was the perfect leader for any assault mission.

She couldn't wait to drop a bottle of vertiserum down Malfoy's throat and watch him spill his secrets.

Moody felt like hopping up and down on his not-so-wooden leg and dancing, an unheard of wonder. It felt right to be back in his old auror robes and battle gear, while preparing to lay a world of hurt upon Malfoy.

The arrogant prick had been the one who had severed his leg after some other DE had blinded him with a diffindo maximus, which had sprouted multiple cuts over his face.

Moody cracked the joints in his neck, and waited. He had a small auror army with him and he was half an army himself. He had taken on Voldemort twice himself, almost defeating him once. While Voldemort had raw power on his side, Moody had experience with dark wizards and could predict them fairly accurately.

"Hold... Hold." He murmured, waiting for Lucius to appear. There were five teams of aurors with himself leading his own group. Their orders were to unleash everything if they had a clear shot at Malfoy- something Alastor knew would please them greatly.

The hand-picked aurors had been selected for skill and previous wrongdoings against their families by Mr. Malfoy.

Alastor had authorised extreme force. With him having a level two Unspeakable clearance and a hit-wizard badge he had the authority to do so.

Moody's scared face gave a menacing grin, he had spotted Lucius strutting around. "One of you send the flare up and three other prepare separate anti-apparation wards." He ordered. "The rest, disillusion yourselves and move in slowly."

The green flare alerted the other teams would you receive the same orders and move in.

Moody waited quietly, five foot from Lucius- who had realised that something was up when he felt the faint tingling sensation of the wards going up.

With a wide-area, non-verbal stunner the muggles were unconscious.

"Ah, Moody. How good to see you." Lucius acknowledged calmly, when, inside he was very upset. Moody was just a brutal dealing with death-eaters as death-eaters were with muggles. Not to mention the Master auror had a personal problem with him.

Moody grunted. "Can't say the same for you, bastard. I'm gonna rip you in half." Alastor began playing with cutting curses, bone-crushing hexes, exploding hexes and banishing charms.

As he threw out several of the curses, muggles began moving towards him like Inferi did; at a slow, lumbering pace. In his overly-rash attempt to harm Malfoy, he hit the same muggle with a bone-crusher and a powerful banishing charm.

Said muggle flew back with a right leg that had snapped forward. Moody inwardly grumbled, he'd have to heal the woman later. Five of his group began stunning the muggles at a rapid pace, not letting the muggles reach their Master auror.

Lucius hadn't survived in the Dark Lord's inner circle by being a layabout; he was a dangerous man. He had felled three aurors- quite by accident- with the intent of hitting Alastor Moody.

Sirius was, in the mean time, having a hard time with the two twins he had rescued. They were bright, energetic and so joyous. There was no time to have a frown on his face while with them, but this really took things too far.

Shopping, more specifically clothes shopping.

It was every lady's 'must-do'. Like he and James had their quidditch; many of the fairer sex had their clothes.

Taking two teenage girls out with a near limitless budget- hey, he could buy the entire company if he needed. It was alright to begin with; they were excited to go out. But now, after going through the whole trying things on and the question, 'Does this make me look fat?' repeated constantly really began to grate on him.

It was almost as if they were fishing for compliments. Sirius was sure, however, they were trying to put things behind them; their recent past had a bleak outlook for them. Rolling his eyes as Jenny and Anne came out of the changing room and, once again, asked for his opinion.

Two hours later, a man dead on his feet made it into a chair and wished that he could spend one day in Azkaban. A day with Dementors or half a dozen hours two teenage girls that drove you like a slave? Hard choice, right?

For Sirius it was a no brainer. He had managed to stand against the Dementors for thrirteen years, so one more day wouldn't hurt.

Harry and Hermione laid to rest six hours later, resting, once again, in the Room of Requirement. Their prank had gone perfectly; not a problem. It had left

With her head on his shoulder, her light brown curls, that had gained a gained golden streaks from the summer sun. Her angelic skin highlighted her dark eyelashes, which in turn brought out her lovely honey coloured eyes.

She looked so beautiful. "You look amazing," he commented, his hand on her cheek and his thumb journeying across her accented cheekbones.

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, Harry." Evidently she had given up trying to argue against his views on her looks.

The flash of her perfect white teeth and her two slightly larger front teeth had him smiling goofily. "Why are you smiling at me like that?" She asked.

The smile vanished, her plead of it returning was unheard. "Simply because you are here with me. You didn't have to go through the bonding and the marriage, yet you did. You could have chosen against it and lived a quiet life against the madness of my own. You do undertake that Voldemort is gonna go after you when he returns?"

"No more so than when we were friends, Harry. I was already a target because of our friendship."

He laughed hollowly. "Gee, that makes me feel so good."

Hermione frowned at his tone. "Babe, I did all I have done because I love you. Wether or not you have a Dark Lord pursuing you, I will love you. Nothing anyone can do or say will change that."

He put his arms around her and pulled her even closer against him, if it were possible. Unfortunately for him, he was a teenage boy and whether or not he liked it, he did have reactions against pretty young women laying atop him.

"I can feel that, Harry." She murmured, her warm breathe tickling his suddenly sensitive neck.

Harry flushed, "I- I need a cold shower..."

"Apparently you do," she giggled, rolling off him letting him go.

She was glad Harry was still apprehensive in their relationship. He was such a caring, sweet boy; always thinking of her not himself. What she wanted, not what he wanted. Hermione felt she was not ready for anything further than... well she'd have to think about it. She could honestly say she hadn't expected to go out with a boy for a while.

Now she had Harry. He was the definition of her knight in shining armour. Literally. He was everything she had wanted in a man.

She loved him. He loved her.

Twenty minutes later, a refreshed Harry wandered out the bathroom that had materialised by their room. "Dealt with your small problem?" Hermione teased lightly.

Harry frowned at her. "It's rude to imply that my parts are small, especially since we are sending our lives together."

Hermione giggled and looked at him with her upper body propped against a pillow. Words couldn't describe how fantastic she looked in Harry's eyes. "I'm just playing with you, Harry."

Harry chuckled in return. "I hope so." He laid down beside her.

Wasting no time, Hermione rolled on top of him. Her lovely hair curtained around their faces, her arms on either side of his head, her eyes smouldering down at him.

Harry's breathe caught in his throat as he stared up into her eyes. She looked so god damn sexy. She lowered herself until their bodies melded together; her face inches from his. She could feel the effect she had over Harry, and shamelessly admitted that she enjoyed it.

Their lips met in a passionate fire, undying. She pulled herself closer, if it were possible. Inflaming their senses, he brought her closer, deepening the kiss. She touched her tongue to his lips, which he willingly opened much to her delight.

She could feeling his hands caressing her lower back and her bum, which turned her on to no end. She pulled back to gasp for air and give a low moan, before plunging back into the kiss. She was becoming addicted to Harry's light, loving caresses of her body.

Oh she could definitely feel his excitement against her finely sculpted thigh.

Pulling back, before things went any further, Hermione laid her head down on his chest to rest. She left this world leaving a frustrated Harry behind.

Moody wasn't half pissed. Old, blonde and stuck-up had gotten away. This wasn't what he had planned. And anyway, aren't purebloods supposed to be so inbred they can barely cast a spell? Aside a select few, it seemed.

"Lucius, Lucius, Lucius, one day I will catch up with you," Moody growled out menacingly. One day. But for now he sat here at his desk, going through te necessary process of premitting muggle healing on the many non-magicals that had been injured during the duel.

He still wasn't sure how the hell Lucius had beaten him and gotten away.

Said man was sitting in a shack of a house. He had killed the muggles inside and used their daughter as a servant of his many needs. He had transfigured the run down house into something nearing his standards of living.

Disgusting muggles, foul creatures. He thought as he watched the six-year-old girl cook him. He just hoped he could sleep in peace for once. His near magical exhastion from the duel with Moody had left him with bad memories of the old time; the times when things hadn't gone in their favour.

They hadn't been many, but they had been devastating when they had. Old Dumbledore and his band hadn't poised to much of a threat until you met a select few. Namely the Marauders minus one Peter Pettigrew.

Running into the aurors back then would have resulted in many a casualty for both sides. Confrontation had been devastating for any site of battle.

For now, though, he would rest and recuperate.

(A/N) Many apologies for my lack of updating. I have been a busy, busy, busy teenager. I literally made this chapter in an hour, so I'm sorry if it's not great.

With more time seemingly ahead, I thought I would try and get a new chapter up before next friday. I apologise in advance if this does not happen, my life is filled to the brim with work at the moment. At the moment though, it seems possible; I already have the next 1,000 words done.

Loopy.