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

cochran4444-yes, the crest tattoo was meant to cover up the Dark Mark...but, it's not completely gone...yet! As for the rest, there will be an explanation eventually :)

flames4thought-thank you, I have been wanting to write an older Evan since completing my original story trilogy (its first iteration was 2003!)

The title of this chapter is taken from Paparazzi by Lady Gaga. (It also reminds me a bit of Prince...RIP.)

And...an extra big Thank You to all readers and reviewers-as always. Feel free to leave a further review in the box at the end of the chapter...on with the show!

NOTHING ELSE MATTERS
Chapter 22 - Purple Teardrops

The next two days were filled with packing, giveaways to charity, transfers to storage, and other moving minutiae. Of course, the myriad charms available to shrink, lighten and transform objects made the task somewhat less burdensome, but it was still a disruption in routine.

Hermione paused in the midst of arranging several stacks of books to take a drink of water. Ever since she'd done the charm on her parents and then she, Ron and Harry had spent a year on the run from Voldemort's forces, she'd kept her life as simple and as streamlined as possible...even to the point that she still used the evening bag she'd charmed in 1997 whenever she needed to travel. She wondered if she'd ever settle down, and realized that only in the last few weeks had it occurred to her that there could be an alternative to her prosaic existence.

Was it possible that she was actually considering a future with Walden? Would she want to be a mother to Evan? She'd already begun mentally reciting the possible repercussions to her Ministry career were she to make her relationship with Walden public, or permanent. Most likely, she would not get fired, per se, but she'd seen Ministry careers very obviously move to the 'slow track' due to changing political climates or personal opinions or actions...as in the cases of Arthur Weasley and Bartemius Crouch. Further, it was not without precedent that she might undergo an inquiry, because Walden had been her assigned client.

"Good afternoon, lass, I'm here for me final interview," Mr. Macnair said, as he bowed politely at her and sat down in the only available chair in her tiny office. Files balanced precariously on every surface, but to Hermione's credit, she knew the precise location of every required piece of parchment.

Dawlish, the Auror who'd escorted Macnair to her office, scowled, nodded abruptly at Hermione, and slammed the door on his way out.

"Mr. Macnair, it's a pleasure to see you; I know we'll both be glad when this is finished," Hermione responded, as she Summoned her quill. "Sorry for the inconvenience, but we'll have to do this here rather than in the interview room. Percy's still working on his interview with Mr. Thicknesse; I thought he'd be completed by now, but apparently not." She made a quick note, then asked, "Er, would you like some tea? I was about to go and get some; it's been a rather long afternoon."

"Aye, but I'm nae permitted to go with ye to the cafe unless we have an escort."

"That's not a problem, I'll get one of the other Aurors to help us, no point in bothering Dawlish again," she said, as she tapped a sheet of parchment with her wand; it obligingly folded itself into a paper airplane and hovered in the air. Her second wand wave opened the door so that the plane could zoom off to its destination.

"Thank ye, I appreciate that," Macnair said, and he gave her a very small smile...

...and, come to think of it, she recalled that prior to that particular day, he'd always very properly referred to her as "Miss Granger," but after the rather pleasant chat they'd had in the cafe-looming Auror and handcuffs notwithstanding-he'd started calling her 'lass', which she'd never corrected, and his voice was always different when he was speaking privately with her. She wondered if that had been the day he'd referred to, when he knew she was "in his heart." After that, he would occasionally make witty remarks or even tell jokes-and that had all culminated in the evening when they'd gone to get drinks together, and laughed with each other like old friends. And she realized that even before that, she'd begun to feel very relaxed with him...had she fallen for him during that time? She thought not, but she'd certainly had some fondness for him, she knew that, or else she would have never considered having a drink with him, much less what had happened afterward.

And was she in love with him now? She felt very comfortable with him, much more comfortable than she'd ever imagined she'd feel with anyone who'd been allied with the Dark. Clearly, he'd renounced that alliance, and whether it had been a gradual renunciation or a sudden realization after his wife had been murdered in front of him, he didn't appear to be planning to locate a new evil overlord to follow...in fact, he'd made a very bold statement that he was primarily concerned with his family. She'd had him apply the temporary tattoo to her upper arm the previous evening while they were up late talking in bed; it had obviously touched him, so much so that they'd spent a very pleasant half-hour simply kissing and caressing each other before things got more heated.

She waved her wand in the direction of the sorted books, shrinking them down, then moving the entire pile to a box, which would also be shrunk. There was now only one more bookcase to go, and just as she started to assess it, Walden walked in.

"They're just about done everywhere else, looks like ye're close here," he said, glancing around the empty room.

Apropos of nothing, she walked over and kissed him.

"No' that I'm complainin', but what was that for?"

"Oh, no reason," she said, and made quick work of the rest of the books.

"Looks like we're goin' out for food tonight since everything's packed," Walden said. "Heather and Melissa suggested that we all spend the night at the Wombat and I like that idea, I can go to the tobacco shop again, if ye dinna mind?"

"I don't mind, I'd like to get some reading in, actually."

"I willna stay out too late," Walden replied.

"You don't have to check in with me, you know," Hermione said, as she stashed her wand in its holster.

"I doona want ye to think I was ignorin' ye," he replied.

"I certainly don't think that-I've been having a very good time...well, apart from the business with my parents, but I'm not going to worry about that right now. Your daughter is a great hostess, and I love...er, I loved spending time with Evan..." she paused a bit, and then decided to forge on ahead with the truth. "I love him, he's a very good boy."

He approached her then, and asked, in a low voice, "And do ye love me at all, lass?"

"I do, I think," Hermione said. "I didn't expect to."

"I want ye in my life," he said. "When we go back, I want ye to stay with me." He turned and glanced around. "I need to tell ye somethin', will ye go for a walk with me? The others are out the back, havin' a drink," and he held his wand to his throat and said, "We're goin' for a walk, be back shortly." With a flick of his wand, the Thestral galloped away through the window.

"Glad that worked," he said.

"What's your Patronus memory?" Hermione asked, and then said, "No, wait, that's personal, you don't have to tell me..."

"It's the day I knew I loved ye, when I came to yer Ministry office and ye invited me for tea," Walden said, as he took her arm and escorted her down the empty hallway and then through the deserted front room.

"Odd, I was just thinking about that day," she replied, as they walked out the front door and turned onto the sidewalk. The day was warm and hazy and the street was quiet, except for the constant background drone of cicadas.

"I hope ye won't think I'm a dobber but I wanted to kiss ye that day...well, more than that really."

"That must be why you kept looking at me so oddly," Hermione mused, as she slipped her hand into his.

"Och, I wanted to bend ye over yer desk but I suspect they would have shipped me back to Azkaban," Walden said, chuckling.

"I doubt Dawlish would have been amused."

They walked in silence for a little while, enjoying the sights and sounds of summer, and then Walden began, "Er, before I met me wife, me second one, that is, Rowan, I...when I went ta the Revels...there was someone who I always met there, who chose me as her consort. It wasna me first wife, she stopped going after she moved to the London house, after me children were in school..." He paused, and glanced at Hermione.

"I didn't presume that you had been celibate for all those years, you know. I listened to hours of that testimony."

"It was me friend, Lucinda, she was married ta Avery, and he's a right foul git," Walden said. "We didna always, ye know, participate in the revels. We played a lot of wizard's chess, actually, she mostly beat me," and he chuckled. "Guess I like smart lasses, aye?"

"I'm not that good at chess, though," Hermione said.

"Guess we should keep playin', then, Evan said he wanted to learn some more strategy...anyway, after Rowan was killed, Lucius and I talked, and he decided to help Lucinda by sending her ta his house in America. By then, they were lovers...I didna find that out until later...but it didna matter, I stopped seein' her when I fell for Rowan."

Hermione could not help the smile that crossed her face at his words. "You didn't string her along, then?"

"Nay, wouldna have been fair ta her," he said. "If I hadna met Rowan, I might have stayed with her...but I am glad she got away from Avery though." He paused in his recollections as they crossed the street. "Anyway, she wrote ta me, she'd read in the Prophet that the trials were over, wanted me ta come visit her, said she's never forgotten about me...but, me lass, I wrote her, and I told her I'd met someone. I got her owl that day back at the lodge, the time ye ran off for a bit, but I was hopin' ye'd come back. Nae even sure why I'm tellin' ye this, really." He looked down at the ground. Hermione heard the flutter of wings and observed two ravens landing on the grass next to the sidewalk.

"It's not as if you don't know my entire romantic history-well, the Witch Weekly version, that is," Hermione said, "Which is very far from accurate."

"I guess I'm tellin' ye because I want ye ta know I'm nae like that Weasley, I willna play with yer heart. They said I was cruel in the trials, I know ye heard that bit. And I can be, when I'm fightin' and huntin'. I canna change that."

"I heard that and a lot more, and I understand," Hermione said. "But you've not been cruel to me."

Three hours later, the extended Macnair family, plus Hermione, sat around a large table in the back of the Slender Wombat, enjoying supper. All but Walden and Evan, who appeared to be in a competition to see which one could devour their steak faster, had opted for prawns. Walden headed over to the tobacco shop after he was done eating and enjoyed more convivial fellowship (and several beers), while everyone else headed upstairs to rest up for the next morning's journey. Hermione had just doused the lights when Walden returned, a bit more redolent of smoke than she would have preferred, but she was too tired to quibble about it.

The Portkey return journey turned out to be much more uneventful than their arrival. Stella, the functionary who'd taken issue with Walden when they'd arrived was still there, but appeared mollified by the fact that he'd brought his very respectable family with him, so all she said was a cheery "Gidday," before escorting them to their seats around the Portkey.

Evan, Walden, and Heather appeared to relish their journey. Melissa and Hermione grimaced at each other and commiserated during the layover in Lhasa; both refused yak wraps. Walden had to talk Evan out of a beer by telling him that he could have some with his grandfather at the castle.

By the time they landed at the Portkey Office in London, emotions were running high. Evan was jumping around, asking rapid-fire questions to anyone who would answer. Hermione was calm, thanks to the Muggle travel sickness remedy she'd taken (and surreptitiously slipped to Melissa). Heather and Walden were chattering away about making renovations to the lodge. The recovery lounge (which they were escorted to en masse) was rather similar to its Australian cousin, but was, of course, decorated with large pictures of Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, and the interiors of both St. Mungo's and the Ministry. Hermione took Evan around the room and gave him a de facto tour.

Once the hour was up, they were escorted out of the lounge and directly into a large crowd of reporters-multiple flashbulbs went offand Evan immediately stepped behind his father.

"Miss Granger! Can you tell us how you felt when you heard about Mr. Weasley's impending nuptials? Are you heart-broken?"

"What the bloody hell?" Hermione muttered to Walden.

"Och, I forgot ta tell ye about that, lass...let's get home and I'll explain."

"No comment!" Melissa and Heather had linked arms and were shoving through the crowd like a pair of human Bludgers. "Let us through! We've just gotten back from Australia!" One particularly persistent reporter shoved his parchment and Quick-Quotes quill at the pair of them, and Melissa raised her wand and pointed it in his direction. "Oi, mate, back off there!"

Just then, a voice sounded a bit further down the hall, "I say, leave them alone!" The crowd of reporters turned as one and dashed toward the Auror. "Mr. Potter! Can you give us a quote about Mr. Weasley's engagement? Are you going to be best man?"

Ginny Potter, who'd been standing next to Harry, appeared next to Hermione. "Quick, tell me where you're going and I'll Disapparate the lot of you!"

"Macnair Lodge!" Hermione shouted, as the group all clasped hands.