DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns most of the characters and settings here—I own the rest.

I meant to have this update out a bit earlier, but Matters Mundane took precedence. Sorry it's so short-more next time, I promise!

For all those who celebrate Solstice, Hanukkah, and Christmas, may the season be joyful!

Thank you to all reviewers-as always! Feel free to leave a further review in the box at the end of the chapter.

NOTHING ELSE MATTERS
Chapter 17 - Where Women Glow and Men Plunder

Knowing that the Ministry's emigration program was actually a more genteel term for deportation, Hermione decided not to comment, and waited until the MLE officer had left to nod politely at the wizards and say "Good morning, gentlemen."

Surprisingly, the elder wizards stood up and said, more or less in unison, "Good morning, Miss Granger," as if she was their teacher. They'd been on Percy's docket, so she'd not had much interaction with them during the trials. Gregory Goyle, even more surprisingly, stood up and approached her and shook her hand. "Thank you for saving me that time," he said. She'd always found it amazing that such a large person had a relatively quiet voice.

"You're welcome," she said. While she'd been paying attention to the other three wizards, Walden had sat down in the chair beside her and slung a casual, yet protective, arm around her shoulders.

"Are you going to New Zealand, too, Walden?" Mr. Crabbe asked.

"Nay, I'm goin' to Australia to get me son and bring him back home," he replied. "Nae sure if ye remember, but I sent him away after me wife was killed."

"I liked your wife," Crabbe said. "She gave us Firewhisky and food after the Triwizard. I saw your picture in the Prophet. Are you going to marry Miss Granger now?"

Hermione immediately blushed, and Walden cleared his throat. "She's, er, just sharing me Portkey, Rufus."

"Oh," Crabbe said. "Can you help us fill out these papers?" He directed this last statement to Hermione, who tried not to sigh. No matter what changes occurred in her life, there seemed no escape from her role as homework assistant.

"Walden, why don't you help them, I'm going to run to the loo..." Hermione felt the need to regain her composure just a bit.

By the time she returned, the wizards were intent over their respective forms and the wall clock indicated there was thirty more minutes until departure time, so she returned to her reading for the duration. Walden finished his stack of papers first, and looked up at her with a smile. The other three wizards appeared to be copying off his work, which didn't surprise her. She was curious in spite of herself, so she stood up, walked over, and glanced first at Gregory's work, then at the papers of the two other wizards.

"Hang on, you're not all called Walden Macnair," she said, stifling a giggle. "And you said you were going to a sheep ranch, not to pick up your son."

"Told ye ta nae copy those bloody parts, ye damned numpties," Walden said.

With a put-upon sigh, Hermione waved her wand over the three wizards' forms-she already knew Mr. Crabbe's first name, and was unsurprised to find that Mr. Goyle's first name was Maynard.

The two wizards stood up again and said, "Thank you," again more or less in unison, and Hermione set her lips in a thin line so that she wouldn't be reminded of the old Muggle nursery rhyme about Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Further, she fervently hoped that Walden wouldn't get annoyed, because if one of his ravens appeared, she'd definitely be unable to keep her hard-fought composure. Thankfully, the officer returned to pick up the forms and usher them toward the Portkey Room before too long.

Although Hermione had, of course, read up on it, she found the International Portkey to be fascinating. It resembled nothing so much as a smaller version of a centrifuge ride from a Muggle amusement park, with comfortable seats ringed round the center axis rather than standing areas. She was quite glad there was something to hang onto other than Walden's arm. He led her to seats on the far side of the ring from where the other three wizards had placed themselves. After everyone was seated, a Ministry official came bearing packages and stacks of papers, and magically attached them into several of the other seats.

At the appointed time, the center of the structure glowed blue and they were instantly aloft, spinning in dizzy circles. Hermione planted her feet firmly on the structure's floor, gripped her seat handles as tightly as possible, and hoped that she wouldn't get sick. Walden leaned back in his chair casually, Gregory Goyle held his hands up and shouted in excitement, and the two other wizards held a shouted conversation.

By the time they stopped at the Portkey Office in Lhasa for a one-hour layover, Hermione fervently wished she'd just taken British Airways. Walden offered to buy her a yak wrap and a beer from the lounge, which she declined. When none of the wizards were looking, she popped an over-the-counter travel sickness remedy from Boots, hoping it would work quickly.

At last, they touched down in Sydney. Hermione was instantly swept away to a recovery room and handed a potion by an extremely chipper witch, while the rest of the party were kept in their seats by burly Australian MLE functionaries and the papers and packages were taken away by others. The recovery room was rather comfortable, featuring four oversized wingback recliners piled high with pillows and lovely, fuzzy blankets, framed pictures of Australian landmarks on the wall, a table with tea things, and a private powder room. She climbed into one of the chairs and pulled a blanket over herself, intent on a nap. She'd closed her eyes for what felt like an instant when a quiet knock sounded on the door-it was the chipper witch, accompanied by Walden.

"Pardon me, Miss Granger, but this wizard insists he's traveling with you," she said.

Blinking a few times, Hermione responded, "He is," followed by a rather large yawn. "Sorry!"

The witch looked rather surprised, but she stepped aside to allow Walden to enter the room, and then said, "Ta! I'll be back in two hours, then, to Apparate you to Melbourne."

"They were gonna keep me in another room with Rufus, Maynard, and Greg, and I kept tellin' 'em that I was with ye, and they wouldna listen, and I had to count to ten like ye told me..." Walden began, as he started to sit down in the chair next to Hermione.

"Hang on," she said, taking out her wand and tapping it on her chair to enlarge it. "Sit with me."

"Thank ye, mo ghra," he said, as he kissed her hand and sat down next to her. "This is much nicer than the other room. Ye know, I doona think they much like havin' us here."

"They agreed to the Emigration Program, and you're not even on that, so they should have been a bit more courteous," Hermione said, and then paused. "Think I might get a cup of tea, do you want one?"

"I'd rather kiss ye," Walden said, reaching over for her. "We can have the tea after..." and he let his voice drift off as he began to kiss her deeply. They spent the next few minutes relatively innocently, until he slipped his hand under her robe and murmured, "Can ye recline this all the way?" She giggled and tapped her wand on the chair, and it obliged. "All the way, you say? I should probably charm the door in that case...unless you liked the look of that witch."

"Nae me type," he said, as he unbuttoned his outer robe and slipped it off.

They did eventually get a bit of rest and had managed to recombobulate themselves before the witch (whose name turned out to be Stella) returned.

"I'll be Apparating you to the wizarding shopping district-it's sort of like your Diagon Alley-" she began. "It's called Sorcerer's Arcade, and it's adjacent to a rather famous Muggle shopping centre," and she paused after this and looked significantly at Walden.

To bridge the uncomfortable conversational gap, Hermione jumped in with the information she'd read in her tourist guide. "The Royal Arcade? I was hoping to visit there."

"Yep! You'll find an inn called the Slender Wombat in Sorcerer's Arcade, and there's a reservation already made for you tonight, Miss Granger," she added. Switching her tone to patronizing, she continued, "Er, Mr. Macnair, I assumed you'd be going on to meet your family-if you'd like, you can borrow one of our owls to send a message to them." She did not look thrilled at all by the prospect of handing over anything to Walden, who by now was glaring at her.

"We'll be staying together at the inn, Stella," Hermione said. "The plan was to meet up with Walden's family tomorrow morning. I assume that's not a problem?"

"Oh! Er...I suppose not," Stella said, in a voice that suggested otherwise.

"Do ye have some kind o' problem with me?" Walden inquired, in a rather sharp tone, after which two ravens materialized in the air next to him. Hermione bit her lip and slipped her hand into his. Stella raised her eyebrows.

"I do," she finally said. "I don't like the idea that one of your...kind is visiting our community."

"And what kind would that be?" Walden said, in an extremely cold tone, which Hermione, to her chagrin, remembered as the one he'd used back when he was at the school in an official capacity for the Buckbeak Incident. He was also gripping her hand much too tightly, and three more ravens had appeared. She was completely fascinated, in an academic sense, in the way that they spiraled to life out of thin air, almost as if they were Apparating, and made a mental note to ask him more about the process later.

"Pardon me...but if you were not aware, I was Mr. Macnair's defence barrister during the Death Eater trials," she began, and both Stella and Walden visibly flinched when she mentioned his former affiliation. "And he has served his time, in Azkaban and under house arrest; he's now on parole with a conditional pardon." She paused again, this time for dramatic effect. "Meaning if he fucks up, it's straight back to Azkaban for life...and I can send him there by means of one Patronus." She wasn't actually certain how long it would take a Patronus to get back to Britain from Australia, and took a brief second to ponder that fact before heading straight into Alpha Witch Barrister mode. "So if you have any more questions or concerns, now's the time for them before the subject is closed."

"Er...actually I do," Stella said. "What's with all the bloody birds?" By now, at least twenty ravens were perched in various locations around the room, including Walden's shoulder. Several were cawing loudly, and one had just left a large pile of droppings next to the tea service.