A/N: Thank you for continuing to read and review and for generally being lovely! Quite a lot happens in this chapter, even though it's not the longest…hopefully you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I wish I was J.K. Rowling.

Much to Ron's irritation, the questioning of Millicent Bulstrode did not bring about any new leads; in fact, they had absolutely nothing connecting her to the investigation other than her friendship with Greengrass and Parkinson. Having utilized their last resource, the four Aurors realized they had reached a standstill. There wasn't much to be done until they had some sort of concrete evidence, and, as Bryce had pointed out, it was unlikely they'd gather any if the women knew they were being watched. Though a niggling feeling in the back of Ron's mind told him the situation was far from diffused, putting the case on the backburner was all they could do for the time being.

Eventually, the days had turned into weeks, and it had now been nearly a full month since they had last made any headway in the case. Ron had instead busied himself with a slew of on-duty shifts that left him too exhausted to dwell too much on the unsolved mysteries of the case. The only break in the monotony had come in the form of his stag party, which, despite Harry's assurances, had turned into quite the drunken debacle. Ron had woken up the day after completely starkers in the first floor bathtub at Grimmauld Place by a disenchanted Hermione, who had stayed there with Ginny the night before. She went on to inform him that he and Harry had showed up at just gone two in the morning, intent on serenading them with songs by the popular muggle music group, The Beatles, whom Ron swore he'd never heard of in his life.

"Well, you certainly thought you knew 'I Want to Hold Your Hand' well enough," Hermione had tutted, rolling her eyes as she offered him a glass of water.

"And how did I end up in the bathtub?" Ron asked dubiously.

"You wouldn't come upstairs with me, and I was too tired to argue," Hermione sighed.

Ron found it hard to believe that even a drunken version of himself would have refused to go to bed with Hermione, but he didn't voice that thought aloud, nor did he complain about his now incredibly sore back - Hermione would probably have thought it served him right for having a few too many the night before.

Hermione, too, was keeping herself busy: she'd recently received the first major case of her career - as far as Ron could tell, it was something to do with the rights of house elves in dark wizard communities. Hermione had long since accepted the fact that house elves generally had no desire to be freed, but that did not stop her from fighting to improve their situation. She had been overjoyed when she'd been presented with the case; she hadn't expected to be able to do something so substantial so soon after she'd begun her job, and she was determined to make the most of the opportunity. So, true to character, she was spending most of her time focusing on her work.

Additionally, the wedding was now only four weeks away, and both Ron and Hermione were spending the majority of their limited free time going over the final details of the ceremony and reception.

Somehow, Hermione had also managed to spend some time with her parents, and, much to Ron's relief, she'd come back looking just a little less dejected every time she spent an evening with them. Eventually, she seemed to think there had been some sort of breakthrough, and decided that the time had come to try bringing Ron around again.

"My dad was wonderful today," she'd said after the last visit. "He didn't say one hurtful thing the entire time I was there!"

"Really?" Ron had replied with a smile, pulling her into his arms happily.

"Yes!" she beamed up at him. "Mum's been talking to him about it all nonstop, you know, passing along what I've told her to try to ease him up a bit, but they haven't mentioned the wedding much while I've been around until today. But he really listened to me when I talked, and he didn't shout once!"

"So he's alright with it now?" Ron asked.

Hermione bit her lip and thought about it. "Well, I can tell he's still…you know, wary, but he's trying now, much more than he was before, and he said I should bring you with me next time."

Ron stiffened a bit. "Do you think it'll actually go well this time?"

"Yes," Hermione said firmly, resting her head against his chest. "I really, really do. And if not, I'll hex him."

Ron chuckled. "I'm sure that'd patch things right up."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's really trying, Ron. We're all going to be a proper family next month, after all," she glanced up at him, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "He even - he promised to walk me down the aisle!"

"That's brilliant!" Ron told her tenderly, rubbing circles on the small of her back as he spoke.

"I know," Hermione said, the happiness rolling off of her in waves. "Everything's starting to come together; it's wonderful!"

"Yeah, it is," Ron enthused as he maneuvered them toward the sofa.

"I was so scared, you know," Hermione continued, obeying his tug on her hand and sitting down next to him, curling into his side. "That it wouldn't be, I mean."

"Wouldn't be what?" Ron asked.

"That it wouldn't be perfect," Hermione admitted quietly, almost ashamedly.

"We're getting married, it was always gonna be perfect," Ron dismissed absentmindedly, shifting around to get into optimal cuddling position, a phrase he would never admit he'd ever used, ever.

Hermione shook her head. "That's not what I mean."

"Care to explain?" Ron prompted, fixing her with a look that he hoped would remind her that most of the time, he didn't really know what she was going on about if she didn't clarify.

"I just-" she hesitated. "It didn't feel right before. Well, the part about being with you did," she added hurriedly before his face could fall.

"What wasn't right then?" Ron asked confusedly. "Just the thing with your parents, you mean?"

"Mostly," Hermione replied thoughtfully. "It's just - we're taking a big step, and I don't want anyone to have any misgivings."

Ron frowned. "You aren't having misgivings, are you?"

"Of course not," Hermione said immediately, rolling her eyes again. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, I am," Ron protested. "But you're saying it didn't feel right, which isn't exactly what a bloke wants to hear a month before his wedding, mind you!"

"Well, it did feel right," Hermione said, "but it also didn't, you know?"

"No," Ron said, shaking his head slowly. "I've always thought it felt right."

"Well, so have I. Otherwise I wouldn't have said yes," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "But it's still a bit of a risk we're taking, and it didn't feel right not to have everyone's support."

"Okay," Ron replied, beginning to wrap his head around what she was saying. "I dunno that it's a risk, though. We're just trying to be normal, really."

"Well, we're promising we're only ever going to be with each other, and that's it," Hermione emphasized. "That's a fairly big risk, really, but we wouldn't be taking it if we didn't think we were going to be successful."

"So you wanted everyone to think so, too," Ron realized.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed. "My parents had a point, you know. We're quite young, and people in the muggle world very rarely get married at our age. The only reason I'm not scared out of my mind is because it's you."

"I am a very desirable catch, aren't I?" Ron teased, waggling his eyebrows playfully. As much as he loved that he and Hermione could be honest with each other now, he couldn't let the conversation be entirely serious.

Hermione laughed good-naturedly. "It's not just that," she admitted. "It's that you're my best friend, and the love of my life."

Ron took that moment to swoop in and kiss her on the cheek. "Goes both ways. That's why we couldn't be like this with other people," he remarked wisely.

"Exactly." Hermione smiled, leaning in and kissing him quickly on the lips. "You're a good kisser, too," she added as an afterthought.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Ron asked with a laugh.

"It's a reason to keep you around," Hermione teased.

"Mm," Ron hummed in agreement, moving to capture her lips again. "You've got boobs," he informed her seriously when they pulled away.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "So does half the world's population."

"Yours are attached to you, though," Ron clarified, bringing his hands up to cup the body parts in question briefly. "And yours are bouncy."

"Yes, well, that's a very important part of our relationship, the bounciness," Hermione said in a tone that downright oozed mock sincerity.

Ron laughed contentedly and brushed his lips across the part of her that was closest to him, which happened to be the side of her forehead. "So next weekend, then?"

"Next weekend," Hermione confirmed with a wide grin. "It's going to work out perfectly."

As he wrapped his arms more firmly around her and pressed another kiss to her cheek, Ron couldn't have been more inclined to agree.

The next week had passed just as quickly as the three before it, and soon Hermione found herself fixing the buttons on Ron's dress shirt for the fourth time in as many minutes. Despite her father's recent one-eighty, she was still nervous that the rug would be pulled from under her during this visit.

"I think they're alright, Hermione," Ron told her impatiently.

"Yes, I suppose so," Hermione muttered, turning instead to the mirror to mess with her hair once more.

"You're nervous," Ron said perceptively.

"So are you," Hermione shot back, taking in her reflection for another moment before briskly turning around and walking out of the room.

"I'm meant to be," Ron argued, trailing along behind her.

"Sorry," Hermione replied absentmindedly, reaching for her handbag off the back of one of the kitchen chairs before turning round to face him. "It's going to go well," she said confidently, deciding that perhaps, if she willed it hard enough, it really would.

"Yes," Ron confirmed, reaching for her free hand and nodding, a sign for her to turn on the spot.

A moment later, they were standing in her parents' garden. "I've been apparating here for awhile now," Hermione explained in response to his questioning look, not daring to let go of his hand as they approached the back door. "It's easier than walking from the alley."

Ron nodded idly. "Shall I knock, then?" Without waiting for an answer, he rapped lightly on the door three times.

Just a moment later, Dad came to the door wearing a smile that was a strangely both genuine and strained. "Hello, Hermione!" he said pleasantly, reaching out to give her a one-armed hug. "And it's nice to see you again, Ron," he added, offering a hand to the younger man, who gladly shook it.

"Is that them, Peter?" came Mum's voice from inside. "Let them in, dear!"

"Of course!" Dad called, stepping back from the door so Ron and Hermione could properly enter the house. "Your mum's just finishing dinner," he explained, leading them through the dining room and into the sitting room.

"How are things at the practice, Dad?" Hermione asked as she settled next to Ron on the sofa.

"Everything's going quite well," Dad answered politely, taking a seat in a chair across from the sofa. "We picked up a new client this week; big family, lots of teeth to clean. And how's the case you were telling me about?"

"It's progressing very nicely," Hermione replied with a smile, pleased to see that he had remembered the small detail she'd dropped the last time she'd visited. "I'm presenting on it this week, actually, and if I do my job right, we'll be taking a reasonable step toward fair working conditions."

"That's wonderful," Dad said respectfully. "And it's the…elves, right?"

"Yes, house elves," Hermione confirmed.

"Charming," Dad said, and Hermione could tell he was caught between wanting to know what a house elf was and trying to keep the conversation as civil as possible. "And Ron, how is your work coming?"

"It's going well," Ron answered, sitting up a bit straighter. "I've been working on duty shifts rather than casework the past few weeks, so it's been pretty busy."

"Did you ever figure out who sent that owl?" Dad asked, his tone just beyond polite curiosity.

"Erm…no," Ron admitted. "We hit a bit of a standstill, see."

"The man that dropped by last month, said he worked with you - he told me our house would still be under protection, is that so?" Dad asked, his tone a bit sharper than before.

"That's right," Ron replied immediately. "It's not invasive, is it?"

"No, no," Dad assured, visibly relaxing a bit. "If I can say one thing about you wizards, it's that you can be subtle when you want to be."

Hermione couldn't help but smile, thinking of the many, many times she'd had to scold various Weasleys for acting too wizardly amongst muggles. "When you want to be" was definitely the key phrase in her father's sentence.

"Well, we want to make sure you're safe," Ron told him. Hermione noticed his Adam's Apple bob as he swallowed nervously.

"Well, thank you," Dad said good-naturedly. Then, his smile slid a bit more to the strained side of the scale. "And how is the wedding planning coming? Your mum tells me everything's about set."

"It is," Hermione said. "Ron's mum has probably been doing more than we have, actually. I feel bad about it, but she only asks me to help when there's a decision to be made; she just sends me away otherwise. I think she and Mum have been writing, though, so at least she's not doing it all on her own."

"Ah," Dad replied awkwardly. "Yes, I remember your mother being the hospitable sort, Ron."

"Comes from raising seven kids, I suppose," Ron remarked with a lopsided smile. "I think Ginny's keeping her reigned in, though."

"Ginny's your sister?" Dad asked.

"Yes, and she's the maid of honor," Hermione reminded him kindly, hoping he could tell that she appreciated his effort.

"Of course, of course," Dad said, and the three of them trailed off into a bit of an uncomfortable silence. Luckily, Mum chose that moment to bustle in from the kitchen.

"Hello, dears!" she said warmly, walking to the sofa to engulf Ron and Hermione in hugs. "The food's almost ready, but I could use a hand. Hermione?"

Hermione looked nervously between her dad and Ron, but Mum seemed to anticipate her concern. "Peter, I think there's a football game on. Why don't you show Ron? Hermione said you played sports in school, dear?"

"Erm, yeah," Ron replied awkwardly. "Quidditch."

"Is that anything like football?" Mum asked.

"A bit," Hermione answered, though she knew Ron would likely find muggle sports boring in comparison. Still, she followed her mum after Dad flipped on the telly and began explaining the basic elements of the game to Ron.

"Do you think it's a good idea, leaving them on their own?" Hermione asked Mum as they entered the kitchen.

"Honestly, Hermione, they're grown men, not children," Mum scolded.

"You wouldn't know it the way they act sometimes," Hermione retorted, but Mum just rolled her eyes pleasantly and handed her some tongs.

"Put the salad into bowls for me, will you?" Mum requested. "Anyway, you know your father's coming to terms with it all now."

"It's awkward, though," Hermione admitted.

"But it's better than shouting, isn't it?" Mum insisted.

"I suppose," Hermione sighed. "As long as Ron doesn't insult football, I suppose we'll be okay."

"But he plays the Quid-thing, doesn't he?" Mum asked confusedly.

"Well, yes, but it's a bit different. You see, Quidditch is played on brooms and involves three different types of balls," Hermione explained as she finished separating the salad into equal portions.

"Brooms that fly?" Mum asked, alarmed.

"Yes. It's quite a dangerous game, really, but they're all very good fliers," Hermione replied. "Would you like me to put these out now, Mum?"

"Yes, please," Mum requested, the remnants of a bemused look still etched upon her face. "And I suppose you ought to fetch the men. Five minutes of bonding time would probably be enough to start out, don't you think?"

Hermione laughed half-heartedly. "Perhaps by the time Ron and I have kids, we'll be able to leave them alone for an hour."

"We can only hope," Mum teased, shooting Hermione a warm smile.

After laying out a bowl at each of the four places at the dining room table, Hermione walked hastily down the hall toward the sitting room. However, she stopped immediately in her tracks when she heard Ron speak in a very serious tone on the other side of the door. Feeling only a little guilty for eavesdropping, Hermione put her ear to the wall so that she could just make out his words.

"Mr. Granger, I know it's been a weird couple of years," Ron began tentatively. Even through the wall, Hermione could hear the nervousness in his voice.

"It has," Dad confirmed shortly. Hermione desperately wished that she could see his expression.

"I just - I want you to know that I really do love Hermione," Ron said very quickly. "I'm not just…you know, marrying her for something to do. I-I reckon I've been in love with her for years."

It was quiet for a moment, but just as Hermione was ready to burst in and step to Ron's defense, Dad spoke again: "Ron, I want you to understand that my…misgivings about all this have had nothing to do with you personally. I've been out of line, I know that, but you must know I care very deeply for Hermione. It's just that I came off much harsher than I ever intended."

"Okay," Ron replied simply. Hermione could detect his discomfort plain as day.

"You have to understand that it's difficult for me to realize how much Hermione has grown up," Dad continued. "Last I remember, she was a twelve year old girl asking me to buy her books I wouldn't have thought to read til university."

Hermione heard Ron chuckle uneasily then. "She's still a bit like that," he said awkwardly.

"But she's grown up now," Dad said, perhaps a little bit sadly. "I understand that now. Karen realized it before I did, but isn't that always the case?"

Ron laughed again, this time a bit more freely. "Like mother, like daughter," he remarked.

They were silent for awhile again, and Hermione could only hear the sound of the television. Then, suddenly, Dad said: "The only reason I've been pushing back so hard, Ron, is because I don't want the two of you to rush into this and come to regret it later."

"I'd never regret it," Ron replied fiercely. "Mr. Granger, my only regrets when it comes to Hermione are the times I was too stupid to realize how important she is to me."

"I can tell you really do love her," Dad said, so quietly Hermione could barely make the words out.

"More than anything. She's - she's sort of everything," Ron said, with so much honesty and vulnerability Hermione nearly whimpered.

There was another momentary pause before Dad spoke again, this time in a resigned tone: "This is never going to be easy for me, Ron, but…I really do wish the best for you both."

"Thank you, Mr. Granger," Ron said, awkwardly but sincerely. This time, neither of them spoke for nearly a full minute, and Hermione decided it was safe to go in. Taking a deep breath and dabbing briefly at her eyes, she pushed the door all the way open and walked in to see Dad and Ron staring intently at the television, clearly avoiding each other's eyes.

"Dinner's ready," she said brightly, walking over and laying an appreciative hand on her dad's shoulder.

"Lovely!" he replied enthusiastically, quickly shutting off the television and leaving the room. Ron made to follow, but Hermione stayed him with a hand on his arm.

"I heard, just now," she admitted, staring up at him gratefully. "That was amazing, Ron."

He coughed awkwardly. "I had to say something," Ron said, the tips of his ears turning red. "I'm marrying his daughter, y'know. Didn't want him to think I was too much of a shithead."

Hermione rolled her eyes and silenced him with a sound kiss on the lips. "It was very mature of you."

"Yeah, well, sometimes I pretend," Ron said uncomfortably, rubbing his hair with his free hand. "Food's waiting, yeah?"

Hermione smiled and took his hand. "Is that all you think about?"

"No, but as we're in your parents' house I'm not going to say the other thing," Ron quipped, and Hermione simply rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow.

Dinner went well, all things considered. Apparently Dad's heart to heart with Ron had been more than his fill of wedding talk for the day, and their conversation revolved mostly around their work. Hermione could tell from the expression on Ron's face that he was learning far more than he had ever cared to about dentistry. All in all, the conversation was pleasant, if not a bit overly polite. Still, talk of their careers brought them through to dessert, which was, as it typically had been during Hermione's childhood, a fruit salad. Ron look thoroughly disenchanted by this, but did thankfully did not voice his concerns.

"It's been lovely having the two of you here tonight," Mum said brightly as they tucked in.

"I agree. We'll have to come over more often," Hermione replied.

"Yeah. Dinner was fantastic, Mrs. Granger," Ron added politely.

"We'll make a monthly thing of it, at the least," Dad declared. Hermione beamed at him appreciatively.

"We could even come to your flat now and then," Mum suggested. "Hermione says you make a wonderful lasagne, Ron."

"It's my mum's recipe," Ron said sheepishly, sending Hermione a half-hearted glare. She only smirked in return. "And it's the only dish I can make properly, to be honest."

"We can have you over after the wedding," Hermione said happily, taking pleasure in watching Ron's eyes widen worriedly. "It'll be a bit cozy, but you're right Mum, Ron's lasagne is worth it."

"Or we could just have you at the Burrow," Ron cut in quickly. "It's small, but there'd be a bit more space than there would be at ours, and Mum and Dad would love it."

"Well, that's a wonderful idea," Mum beamed enthusiastically. "Don't you think, Peter?"

"Absolutely," Dad agreed, and Hermione was pleased to see his expression tipping toward the genuine side of the scale again. "It's been ages since we've seen them; they've always been such nice people."

"Perfect," Hermione gushed, putting her fork down on the table perhaps a bit overenthusiastically as she finished off her fruit salad. "You'll love the Burrow! I suppose you'll see it soon, for the wedding. It's out in the countryside a ways, and it's so beautiful this time of year!"

"It's alright," Ron added sheepishly, his cheeks burning. "My brother Bill got married there as well. We set up a marquee outside. I bet my mum's told you."

"Yes, and it sounds lovely," Mum said pleasantly.

"It will be," Hermione added emphatically. "Thank you for dinner, Mum and Dad, but we're going to have to be going now. Ron has a shift tomorrow morning."

"On a Sunday?" Dad asked, looking utterly flabbergasted.

"Yeah, but it's a short one," Ron replied. "I just picked it up for a bit of extra money."

"Well, good on you," Dad said, seeming genuinely impressed. "I never could give up my Sunday morning lie-in."

They all laughed good-naturedly, and made their way through the typical parting routine without anything out of the ordinary. This time, it was even complete with hugs and kisses and promises to repeat the experience soon.

"That went surprisingly well," Ron remarked once they were back in the comforts of their own flat.

"It did," Hermione confirmed happily, waltzing up to him with a spring in her step to lean into his warm embrace. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron dismissed uncomfortably. "Seemed the grown-up thing to do."

"Well, we are proper grown-ups now," Hermione remarked, pulling back and raising an eyebrow at him.

"That's the theory, anyway," Ron quipped. Then, he leaned in to kiss her, and they spent the next few hours engaged in very "grown-up" activities, indeed.

They were awoken several hours earlier than they wanted to be by a prancing, silvery stag, which seemed to burst into their bedroom from nowhere. Before Ron could quite determine what was happening, Harry's voice filled the room:

"We've got a tip about Parkinson. Be at the office in five minutes."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Hermione asked warily as Ron shot out of bed and began dressing as quickly as he could. The muggle alarm clock on the bedside table glared brightly in a reminder that it was just gone two in the morning.

"Dunno," Ron replied shortly, searching through the wardrobe to find a set of Auror robes. "Could be anything, really, but given the urgency I'm guessing we'll be headed on a raid."

"Be careful," Hermione said, drawing a sheet around her as she crawled out of bed to kiss him lightly on the mouth.

"Always am," Ron replied sincerely, squeezing her arm before turning and making his way out to the fireplace.

Three minutes later, Ron walked into the Auror office, only to be immediately dragged out by Harry, Isaac, and Bryce, who were leading a small group of overnight on-duty Aurors.

"They haven't got a ward up. We're apparating," Isaac explained shortly as they hastily made their way through the corridors on their way to the on-site Apparition point in an alley just outside the premises.

"To where?" Ron asked impatiently.

"Place outside of Brighton. It's been under watch for awhile - suspicious activity and such. We got a tip about some sort of a meeting from a colleague out there, and he caught a glimpse of someone whose physical description matches Parkinson's, so that's why the four of us have been called in specifically. We haven't got a clue how she's been communicating with anybody, but that's neither here nor there for the time being," Isaac said, speaking so quickly that Ron was reminded immediately of Hermione.

"We were briefed before you got here. You'll side along with Potter," Bryce added, catching the hint of worry in Ron's expression - apparating into a place one had no knowledge of was perilously dangerous at best.

"And have we got a strategy?" Ron asked.

"Just the standard. Stun and detain," Isaac answered. "Bryce and I are in charge, but the on-duty lot will listen to you and Potter, too. Don't fuck up."

"Right," Ron groaned, pulling a face in Harry's direction. They'd been on loads of raids before, of course, but he generally liked to have a bit more than eight minutes' warning. He was comforted to see that Harry didn't look any more prepared than he was.

A few tense moments later, the group was positioned at the Apparition point, waiting for the sign from the Auror that had been sent ahead to scout the scene.

"Soon as Marks sends his Patronus, we're off like we discussed," Isaac reminded them all. "Standard Procedure B, don't forget that. No dilly-dallying, just get it done and we'll be back here before we know it."

As he finished speaking, a silvery frog materialized from somewhere down the alley. It didn't speak, but let out one low croak. "That's our cue," Isaac said, nodding to each of the men. "On my count."

Ron only just remembered to grab hold of Harry's arm as Isaac counted down from five. When he reached one, Ron felt the familiarly unpleasant sensation of Apparition, and a moment later, they found themselves surrounding a small house in a sparse area of the countryside. The group took only a moment to regroup and split themselves evenly between the house's two doors before Isaac silently counted off, this time on his fingers - Bryce was doing the same thing on the other side. This time, at Isaac's fist, the lead-off Auror burst in the door, Harry, Ron, Isaac, and the few others following closely.

As was the custom with raids, Ron heard nothing more than a bunch of shouting as they entered. Whether from his side or the others, he was unsure; he was completely focused on moving through each room of the house. It seemed as though the others had found the group inside first, but only a minute later, Ron's group reached the farthest sitting room, and they were instantly greeted with flying curses and louder shouting.

Ron immediately fell into what he and Harry occasionally referred to as "work-mode." He dodged curses as though it was his second nature, and he threw Stunners in retaliation when he could be sure he would hit an enemy. He wasn't sure how many of them there were, but most seemed to be wearing shapeless black masks - he made a mental note of the additional connection between this group and the Death Eaters. Eventually, Ron found himself in combat with one of them - but before he could manage more than a couple of jinxes between his Shield Charms, his opponent had disappeared into thin air.

"Who forgot to put up a fucking ward?" Ron heard Bryce roar from across the room. That was it - they had forgotten to bar the inhabitants from Disapparating. Shit. Having arrived late to the briefing, Ron wasn't sure whose responsibility it had been, and he found his harried attempts at replicating the charm now were unsuccessful. Giving it up for a bad job, he instead raced over to assist Bryce against someone whose hair was undoubtedly Parkinson's.

She was throwing curses so fast that Ron and Bryce couldn't manage much more than Shield Charms. Every time one of them would try to stun her, she would shift her curse in a way that broke through the other man's shield. Ron briefly wondered if she'd ever officially joined up with Voldemort - her dueling was admittedly better than most.

"We've lost them!" Isaac called a few minutes into their struggle, not noticing his colleagues' battle with Parkinson. His shout shifted Bryce's attention just a moment too long, and a well-crafted jinx from the former Slytherin caused Ron and Bryce to lose their footing and sent them flying to the ground. Parkinson made to turn on her heel, but something with jet black hair quite literally ran into her to stop her.

Everything happened so quickly - curses flew faster than anyone could keep track of. The next thing Ron knew, Parkinson was rolling on the floor in a full-body bind, but she was cackling - Harry was unconscious on the ground.

"Oh, fucking hell," Ron muttered as he scrambled toward his best mate, too terrified to manage anything other than exasperation - but luckily, he was able to find Harry's pulse quickly, and he let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"Just knocked out," Ron called to Isaac and Bryce, who were busy wrestling Parkinson to her feet. "Should I Ennervate him?"

"Take him to St. Mungo's just in case," Isaac instructed. "Dunno what curse she hit him with, and she's got the right to keep quiet as she's under arrest, aren't you?"

Parkinson broke her laughter to look at them in disdain, but seeming to know what was good for her, she didn't say a word.

"Come back to the office for a de-brief once you're sure Potter's stable," Bryce told Ron.

"Right," Ron said, nodding as the two elder men disapparated with Parkinson in tow. Heaving Harry upright and leaning him against his shoulder, Ron made to do the same, but not before muttering: "I'll kill you if you're not okay, mate."

A/N: I was almost going to end this chapter with the line about Harry lying on the ground, but I didn't want to be that cruel. Also - I just want to say that no,the Granger situation is not suddenly and completely resolved. Much more to come on that front a bit later in the story - and it will get to the real root of the problem.

We're almost halfway through this now! Next chapter is scheduled for Friday at the latest. Thanks for reading. :)