Knockturn Alley was barren. Not a person was in sight. Windows were shut up, but the open signs were still on the doors.

"This way," I murmured, taking his hand and walking down the empty street to a boarded up place. An apothecary.

I used my wand to open the doors and then cast a lumos into the dark store.

"What do you want?" A harsh voice asked.

I looked towards the source and found an old man sitting, staring at me with loathing. He knew me. He probably hated me. I was Hermione Weasley nee Granger now. A Mudblood with a blood-traitor to him. In his pureblood shop. Oh, the disgrace.

"Monoviralkakova," I answered.

"We don't sell to Mudbloods," the man hissed.

"Then I'll buy it," George said boldly. "And call her that again, and I'll call the Aurors down here."

The man narrowed his eyes at us, "On the shelf."

I made sure to keep my eyes on my surroundings while going to where he pointed to. A small label on the bottle read monoviralkakova. I gently picked it up.

"How much?" George asked.

"Now that the Mudblood's touched it?" the old man hissed. "Fifty galleons."

Holy shit. My eyes widened and I turned towards George, but he just calmly pulled his hand out of his pocket and set his hand down on the counter. "Pleasure doing business with you."

George ushered me out of the shop and was right behind me in a second.

"George that was way too much-"

"It was nothing," George shrugged. We reached the shop and he flipped the sign on the door to closed before nodding to Verity. "These are the last, Ver, yeah?"

"I'll get 'em out."

Verity quickly rang everyone up and then ushered them out of the store. A few frownie faces could be seen.

"I'm getting paid for leaving early, right?" Verity asked casually as she leaned on the counter.

George rolled his eyes, "Yes, Ver. As far as your paycheck knows, we never closed early."

She smiled, "Thanks, Georgie. I'm leaving. You two have fun." she wiggled her eyebrows before leaving herself. I felt my cheeks redden.

"How much do you drink?" George asked, taking the bottle out of his pocket and looking at it closely.

"I need to find a book on it," I told him.

His face cracked into a smile, "Of course."

I rolled my eyes, watching the bottle spin in his hands. "I don't know how much would be toxic," I reasoned.

"Where do you need to go?"

"My trunk has a book of potion dosages in it," I told him softly. "I can go right now."

"Don't let me stop you," George insisted.

I looked up at him, nodding, before silently slipping past him and going up the stairs. I heard him coming up behind me, his footfalls quiet and slow.

"So," George said after I found the book and began flipping through it. "I have a surprise."

I raised an eyebrow, but didn't look up, "Surprise?"

His grin was visible in his voice, "Let's not all get excited at once, dear." He sat besides me, his arm brushing against mine. "We've never had a honeymoon, have we?"

"No, I suppose not," I answered, flipping to page fifty-nine. The Dark Curses cure - Monoviralkokova.

"Well, you see, I bought you something."

"I told you not to buy me anything," I muttered.

He sat up and held out a bag towards me. I sighed and set the book down, meeting his eyes, "What is it?"

"Open it."

I sighed once more before sticking my hand inside the bag that was from a Muggle Elder Beermans.

Why would he be shopping there? In Muggle London? Silky fabric met my fingertips and I pulled it out hesitantly. If this was an expensive dress, I wasn't taking it.

But it wasn't. It was a very skimpy bikini.

"What is this for?" I asked him. "It's like forty degrees outside."

"You and I are going on a little... honeymoon."

His eyes shown with determination and a little bit of nervousness, "We are?"

"Yes, we are," George grinned.

He had dimples if he smiled wide enough. That's so cute...

I shook my head, "Where?"

"How's..." he paused for dramatic effect. "Mexico sound?"

My eyes widened, "Mexico!"

He shrugged, "You talked about it a few weeks ago. And it sounds pretty good. Besides, I can get more product ideas."

"That still doesn't explain why you went to Muggle London to buy me this... or how you knew my size."

"I got the smallest one there," George winked.

"You raided my underwear drawer, didn't you?" I accused, smirking.

He shrugged, "Didn't hurt."

I whacked his shoulder, but smiled, "Thank you, I quite like it."

"Oh, there's more."

I narrowed my eyes but looked into the bag. "Um, no there's not. It's empt-" I stopped when I looked up and saw him holding out something in front of his face. "A plane?" I gasped. "We're taking a plane!"

He looked at me worriedly, "If that's alright?"

"Alright!" I cried. I launched myself at him, hugging him fiercly, "You are the best husband ever!"

"Not if you strangle me!" he rasped.

I quickly retracted my hands and blushed sheepishly, "Sorry."

"Now read the tickets," George winked, rubbing his neck.

I gently took the tickets from his hand and squinted to read them, "October twenty...fifth," I looked up. "That's three days from now!"

He grinned, "Sure is."

"Oh my god. I need to start packing. I need to-"

"Already packed," George smirked. "And besides, we have loads of time. Seventy-two hours is seventy hours too many."

I sighed to calm myself and met his eyes, "You really are awesome, you know that?"

He grinned, "Wicked. I always thought so, but now that you've confirmed it-"

"Impossible," I teased, setting the tickets back down and picking up the book next to me. George began reading over my shoulder.

"This reverses all dark curses?"

"All except for the Unforgivables," I murmured, skimming my hand through the book. I can't believe I had forgotten about this book. It was so unlike me

"Wicked," George commented.

I nodded, my finger stopping at a sentence. Polyviralkakova = Two drops. More results in death

"Can I have the vial?"

He nodded and passed to to me. I gently uncorked it and conjured a crystal dropper from my trunk, before resting it inside. I sucked the dark brown liquid into the dropper and then corked it, handing it back to George.

"Here it goes," I murmured.

"What should I look for if things go bad?" George asked.

I smirked, shrugging, "Haven't the slightest clue. You're starting to rub off on me, George."

"That's not suppossed to be a bad thing," George chuckled. "But seriously?"

"Don't know. If all fails and I die, well, call Hannah here."

"That's it?" George asked, his eyes widening. "No, give me CPR, or mouth to mouth or something?"

"The book says that it shouldn't kill me as long as I don't take over two drops. So, I'm taking two drops."

He sighed, "I'm not digging any holes."

"Nah, you can have Harry do that instead," I winked.

His jaw dropped at my bluntness and playful banter, but I had lifted the dropper and squeezed it lightly so that two drops came out and rested on my tongue. I set the dropper down, swallowing.

"I feel fine," I stated after a second.

"Dizzy? Nauseous?"

I shook my head, "No."

"Good, then we can have dinner and go to bed," he winked.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "I'm not making dinner. It's your turn tonight."

"Macaroni and cheese!" he announced proudly, walking from the room, his fist up in triumph.

"Loser," I muttered, grabbing the book and began reading once more.

It was three hours, without incident, later that I settled into the bed. George was finishing last minute products for the following morning and I was reading that potions book. I turned the page but stopped, staring at my hand.

I squinted my eyes to see in the darkly light room, sure I was imagining it.

But as I lifted the candle on the bedside with my other hand and held it close to my hand, I was sure I wasn't.

My hand had writing on it. Dark scrawly writing in a language I didn't know. As I spent the next few moment watching it, it went from a light pink - almost the color of scars - to a dark gray, near black.

One phrase stood out:

Mors carissima

I gasped, understanding that was Latin for 'Death of a loved one'. I flew out of bed, not bothering to pick my book up from the ground as it fell. I'd have to check the spine later, to make sure it wasn't ruined. I flew out the bedroom door and into the hallway to the shop.

Throwing open his lab door, which caused him to jump and look at me in concern, I only then realized that I was wearing a robe and a small nightgown.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I gasped for breath, "Nothing, I just..." I panted to get my breath. "My hand. Do you know what language the rest is in? I know-"

"Mors Carissima," George murmured before his eyes widened. "That means-"

I nodded quickly, "I know that already. But the rest. What is it. It's symbolic almost. I've never seen it before. Do you know what it is?"

"Bill might-"

"Bill can't-"

"Hermione, what if that jerk lied to you?" George said calmly. "I for one am not going to make up in the morning to find you dead. So-"

"The book wouldn't lie-"

"I'm Flooing Bill over," George said forcefully.

"No, its the middle of the night-"

"It's only eight-"

"And he's with Fleur right-"

"Fleur has the rest of her life with him-"

"And she's pregnant," I offered weakly.

George sighed, "Fine. I won't call him. Just, sit in the living room, alright? I'll be there in a moment."

I nodded, "Sorry for just barging in here like that. I just-"

"It's fine. You gave me quite the scare. I'll tell you, only two woman can do that to old Georgie. Mum and you."

I laughed, "And Ginny?"

"Eh, I always knows she's coming," he winked. "I just act surprised."

"Uh huh," I said, not believing it. I turned, "See you soon."

It was three minutes later that I heard the door open to the flat. George entered with an easy grin on his face. And then the next person entered. The man with the scars across his left side gave me a little wave.

"How you doing, Hermione?" Bill asked.

"Hey, Bill,' I said kindly while giving George a vicious glare. "What the hell, George?"

A long awaited chapter. Sorry it took me so long. I've been learning Karolutsjegh, a language that my friend created, and its been consuming my time. But this is out, finally! Hope you like and please, review!

-Nastya