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

To Cochran4444-nobody (save me, of course, LOL) has claimed him yet...I'm trying to fix that, much as I appreciate Thorfinn and Antonin.

And to avt1988-I think Ronnikins deserves it, too. (Back in the day, I was a Harmony shipper!)

And an extra big 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 19 - A Nice Day to Start Again

Coffee notwithstanding, when Hermione and Walden got upstairs and spotted the lovely king bed featuring ten pillows and covered by a soft, luxurious sheepskin blanket, their thoughts did not turn in a carnal direction-rather, they succumbed rather rapidly to Portkey lag and fell asleep at around 4:30 PM, not long after demolishing the pavlova.

Hermione was the first to wake the next morning, so she ordered room-service breakfast, took a long leisurely bath, and read the local paper, the Melbourne Magical Messenger, which was fairly informative with regard to Antipodean news, but not much else. She was relieved to find no announcement of either her or Walden's visit. When the food (and the wake-up notice she'd arranged) arrived, Walden stirred. He seemed immediately agitated, and not even the breakfast-which featured lots of toast and porridge, thus should have been to his liking-pacified him. He stood up, clutched his tea, and started pacing, then took a hasty shower, after which he returned to the room and started fiddling with his pipe.

"Lass, please tell me ye have a Calming Draught in that bag of yers," he finally said, after he dropped his tobacco pouch, spilling its entire contents onto the floor. Annoyed, he Vanished the mess, and was even more annoyed when the charm worked and he realized he had nothing left to put in his pipe.

"As a matter of fact, I do," she said, Summoning her bag and withdrawing the potion, which he quaffed instantly.

"I wanted to pleasure ye last night and this morn, but I canna concentrate on anythin' right now, I'm sorry...I'm going to go downstairs for a bit, the barman told me there was a tobacco shop next to the pub, do ye want to come along?"

Hermione's tolerance for Walden's smoking sadly didn't extend to being immersed in what was sure to be a rather stuffy, aromatic environment, so she declined. They synchronized their watches and agreed to meet in the pub at 8:45, which allowed plenty of time for them to be settled and ready for Evan's arrival at 9.

Although Walden wasn't altogether comfortable with walking around on his own, he was relieved to find that Sorcerer's Arcade was not nearly as crowded as it had been the previous day. Rather than heading straight to the tobacco shop, he decided to take a short stroll around the area, spurred on by the soothing waves of the potion coursing through his system. By the time he reached the shop, he was in a mellower mood, so when the proprietor gave him a cheery greeting, he wasn't tempted to hex him.

"Gidday, mate, what can I get for ya?"

"Lookin' for some Cavendish," Walden said, as he set his empty pouch on the counter.

"We've got a nice cherry blend, ya can try it out, see if ya like it," he replied, as he Summoned a large glass container from a nearby shelf.

"Thank ye," Walden said, as he filled his pipe and then lit it with the end of his wand.

"Have a sit-down, mate," and the proprietor pointed toward an area where several wizards congregated and a bluish-grey haze from both pipes and cigars filled the air. A familiar array of green bottles waited invitingly on a hand-wrought wooden table; Walden sat down next to it, and one of the wizards said, "Looks like ya could use a shot of grog...or there's some coldies under the table," and pointed toward a metal washtub filled with beer and ice. Walden did not balk at the early hour, and started to examine the whisky bottles.

"What's yer poison, mate?" one of the other wizards asked.

"Laphroaig," Walden said.

"We don't have that, sorry, but try Overeem-it's pretty strong," and the wizard flicked his wand at one of the bottles, opening it, pouring a shot and then levitating it into Walden's hand in one very smooth movement.

"Sorry, Mum, I didn't mean to be late for breakfast..." Ron mumbled, as he entered the kitchen, running a hand through his rumpled, unwashed hair and attempting to straighten his wrinkled robes. His wand fell out of his pocket, clattered on the floor, rolled across the kitchen and stopped directly in front of Hamish Macfarlane's Wellington boots.

"Ye must be Ronald," Macfarlane said, giving him a thin-lipped, disapproving glare, as Ron stumbled over, picked up his wand, and wiped it on his robe.

"Uh, who're you?" Ron asked, not entirely rudely, as he shambled over toward an empty chair.

"Ronald, get yourself together right now!" Molly abruptly screeched, brandishing her wand, which shot out a few stray red sparks. "Stand up straight and introduce yourself to these two gentlemen!"

"Uh, Mum, could I have some tea first?"

"You most certainly may not! These wizards are here to see you. This is Gavin Macnair, and the other gentleman is...er, sorry..."

"Hamish Macfarlane," he supplied, as he stood up and extended his hand.

"Nice to meet you?" Ron said, as he shook his hand. Gavin walked around the table and examined him closely before extending his hand.

"Macnair?" Ron asked, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. "Are you, er, by chance related to...er...Why are you here?"

"It's customary to shake me hand first, laddie," Gavin growled. Ron obliged in a very unenthusiastic way, and then said, "Er, does this have something to do with what happened down Knockturn last night?"

"Nay," Gavin said. "Hamish, here, is me clan chief and cousin, as well as cousin to Fiona," and upon hearing those last words, Ron blanched, screwed up his face, and made a very unattractive gulping sound.

"And wee Fiona is in the family way," Hamish continued. "We're here to arrange the betrothal contract, as soon as your father arrives."

Ron glanced at his mother, who said, in an extremely clipped tone, "Your father is on his way, he just sent his Patronus." To Hamish, she said, as she smiled widely, "I think a New Year's wedding might be best, what do you think?"

"It sounds marvelous, dear lady," he said, and kissed her hand. "I look forward to meeting the rest of your family."

After the longest and most excruciating three hours of Ron's life, the three Weasleys sat together around the kitchen table, each clutching cups of tea.

"Well," Arthur began. "I rather liked Fiona, you could do worse, son." Privately, he recalled when the vivacious blonde had attempted, unsuccessfully, to flirt with every wizard in the house at Easter dinner, but he felt it impolitic to remind Ron of that unpleasant occasion.

"But..." Ron whined. "I mean, she's really pretty and very nice, but...er, I was trying to get back together with 'Mione, and..."

"And you completely buggered that, Ronnikins," said Ginny, after she stepped out of the fireplace and dusted herself off. "Time to move on, you're about to be an old married chap!" She handed a very bundled-up James to Molly, who immediately began cooing at her grandson. "Want to go with me to the Quidditch Commentator's dinner next week? Harry'll be working late...again."

"I guess," said Ron, looking down morosely at his tea. "Maybe I can get someone there to hit me with a Bludger."

"Have them do it more than once, to remind you that you should always talk to your witch about Contraception Charms or potions before you play blanket hornpipe!" Molly blurted, as she chucked James under the chin.

Ginny spluttered and laughed out loud. Ron continued sulking. "I did," he offered. "I think this happened after that Weird Sisters concert, this dodgy bloke offered us some potion and I didn't want to take it, but..."

"I don't wish to hear any more about that, Ronald! At least we don't have to have the wedding here, Gavin's offered up his castle as a venue, it should be lovely..."

At 8:50, after Hermione had unsuccessfully awaited Walden's return to the Wombat, she consulted the waitress and dashed next door to the tobacco shop.

"...and good luck with your sonny boy, mate!" shouted a wizard, from the seating area.

"Thank ye, laddie," Walden said. As he started to open the door and exit the shop, he glimpsed Hermione heading toward the door, and smiled. "Lass! Sorry, I lost track o' time-" he said, as he took her hand.

"You're not late, let's just get back there-oh no, have you been drinking?" The unmistakable aromas of both whisky and tobacco permeated Walden's robes.

"Just a wee dram or two," he replied, "But I took a Sobriety Potion," he added, as they walked quickly back up the pub's stairs.

"Are you, er, feeling any better?"

"Loads, those blokes were friendly. Even if they did know who I was, and I think one or two of them might've...they didna say anythin'. They even gave me some cigars."

"Oh, ugh, please don't smoke those around me, I don't mind the pipe, but..."

"I'll smoke 'em outside, mo ghra, dinna fash." He pulled out Hermione's chair and helped her into it. The waitress returned with two cups of tea, a toast rack and a container of butter. They'd just started preparing their tea when the pub's door opened to reveal two short-haired witches dressed in Muggle sports attire, accompanied by a tall black-haired boy wearing wizarding robes.

"Oh my!" Hermione gasped. "He really does look an awful lot like you."

"DAD!" shouted Evan, as he ran toward the table. Walden jumped up and scooped Evan into a tight hug. "Let me look at ye, me lad, ye're so tall!" he said, after which they both sat down next to each other, beaming all the while. Meanwhile, Hermione had stood up and was introducing herself to the two witches, who assured her they already knew who she was, and they were quite glad to see her. "Heather and Melissa Macnair, nice ta meet ya," said Heather, jovially, before she turned to her father and Evan. "Finally got hitched last year!" added Melissa, addressing this last to Hermione.

"You look a bit familiar, Melissa," Hermione said.

"My sister was in Gryffindor with you, Katie Bell?" Melissa supplied.

"Oh! I just saw her last month with George and Angelina at a drinks party at Harry's, in fact. Do you hear from her often?"

"We were keeping a low profile down here until the trials were over," she replied. "But she's planning to come back with me when I check in at my job, says she's always wanted to see Australia. We've got loads of room, hope you planned to stay with us." Melissa continued to chat with Hermione as the three Macnairs renewed their acquaintance.

"But, I thought you were coming back with us?"

"We've sublet our house to some friends, but they know not to move in until next week. Heather has an apprenticeship lined up with Ollivander, and I'm taking a sabbatical...we haven't decided if we want to move back to the UK permanently yet..."

"Well, we, I mean, er, Walden cleared out some space for you at the lodge," Hermione said.

"Oh, so you two are together. I wondered, after I saw that column in the Prophet, and Gavin did mention something about it in his owl..."

"I'm not sure there's anyone in the entire wizarding world who hasn't read that stupid column," Hermione said. "Sorry!"

"No worries," Melissa replied. "I guess it's a little tough to get used to in Britain, I mean, practically everyone's related if you look back far enough in their family trees. It was nice to live here for a while, it's far more casual."

"I've given some thought to relocating," Hermione admitted. "I suppose it depends on what happens when we, I mean, er, I see my parents..."

"Sounds like you might already have some of that decided," and she flicked her eyes to the necklace glimmering around Hermione's neck. "Heather gave me one of those when we were first together, yeah...Macnairs like to settle down," and she smiled and winked.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Originally, I envisioned Walden as being the same age as Lucius (b.1954), but to fit the storyline of Gavin and Molly having been at Hogwarts together, I shifted things a bit. Thus, Gavin (b.1943) and Molly (b.1950) met when he was a Gryffindor 7th year Prefect, and she was a firstie. Walden (b. 1961) was born right after Gavin left school; his wife, Elspeth, is a year older than him. If you read my original trilogy, you will note that Severus Snape (b.1960) was originally supposed to be younger than Walden, but let's just surmise that living in a dungeon and being perpetually mentally mired in the past kept him looking younger than tromping around the outdoors slaying various magical beasts...shall we?