A/N: Thank you as always for being wonderful. I couldn't wait any longer - posting this story and reading people's reactions to it has been entirely too much fun. :) Before I forget - I don't think the link to Hermione's wedding dress two chapters ago worked. If you're interested you can go to hjeanweasley dot tumblr dot com slash wazlib88 and scroll down a ways and see it. You can also follow me while you're there, if you'd like. :)

Also - Happy Birthday to the Boy Who Lived and the Queen. Jo Rowling is absolutely my hero, and I can never thank her enough for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest.

Disclaimer: If I were J.K. Rowling, my pseudonym would be Robert Galbraith, not wazlib88.

"Honestly Hermione, I really am fine," Harry insisted for the third time since she'd arrived at St. Mungo's with Ron thirty minutes previously. "Just a bad mix of a Stunner and a Cruciatus."

"He'll be out of here by nightfall," Ron reassured her from his seat at the foot of Harry's bed.

Hermione sat up straighter in the chair she'd conjured for herself. "I've read about mixed Dark curses. It's a dangerous practice, you know, it's completely possible the Healers have missed-"

"They haven't," Harry said flatly. "She didn't quite combine them properly. The only reason they haven't let me out yet is because she used a Cruciatus."

Hermione was not appeased, but she decided to let it go. "But you'll rest for a few days, won't you?" she couldn't help but ask.

"I'm out of commission til Tuesday," Harry replied. "Bloody fantastic, too, just when we're finally getting somewhere-"

"Your health is more important," Hermione insisted firmly. "I worry about the two of you, you know, and it's not exactly comforting to know that certain procedures aren't being followed-"

"Traeger made an honest mistake," Ron interjected, reaching out to take Hermione's hand comfortingly. She accepted, but arranged her face in a way that it would be clear she was not pleased. "Wards aren't always the first thing you think of when there're curses being thrown. He's already in enough trouble over it, and we're all fine."

"Right," Hermione said derisively, raising an eyebrow to remind Ron that he hadn't felt this way when he'd returned home around six that morning. After assuring her that Harry really was alright, he went on a bit of a tirade about Augustus Traeger, the on-duty senior Auror who had forgotten to bar the house from Apparition so that the suspects wouldn't be able to escape. As a result, Parkinson had been their only capture, and no one had so much as caught a good glimpse of any of the others. Since then, Ron had calmed down about it, but Hermione was unnerved that a trained Auror had made such a glaring mistake on a high-stakes raid.

"I can't believe they still do the masks thing," Ron remarked, pulling Hermione from her reverie.

"The whole thing's got Death Eaters written all over it," Harry agreed. "The masks were a bit different, though."

"They might have altered the originals, if they were all Death Eaters," Hermione suggested with a sigh, accepting that neither Harry nor Ron were as shaken up as she was - perhaps because they encountered these situations more often than they cared to share with her. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind for the time being.

"I don't think there are that many Death Eaters still at large, to be honest," Harry replied. "I'd say there were probably more than half a dozen there last night. There were nearly a dozen of us and we certainly outnumbered them. It could be the kids, or maybe they've recruited. What I'm really interested in is how they communicated without using the post. Parkinson hasn't got a Dark Mark, so it can't be that."

"Maybe they just did it in person," Hermione suggested. "Or there could be an intermediary person involved, someone you wouldn't have been watching."

"We'll find out more when we interrogate her later," Ron declared. "She won't talk til she has somebody to represent her, and we've had to bully the law division into providing someone on a Sunday."

"Hasn't she got a lawyer already?" Hermione asked confusedly. "Her family always seemed the type that would have a good one at the ready - haughty and rich and all that."

"Not as far as she told us," Ron answered. "Who knows? Maybe her family's a bunch of poor Slytherins. That'd be a first."

Harry snorted. "But you've got someone now?"

"Yeah. Last I heard from Bryce I've got to be in at one for the interrogation," Ron replied, glancing at the clock, which read half-past eleven.

"Well, hopefully she'll offer enough that we can put this all behind us," Hermione said, realizing a little too late that the nervousness was evident in her voice.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Harry told her seriously. "It's under control, and there's no way the others will try something now."

"Exactly," Ron soothed, standing up from Harry's bed, tugging on Hermione's hand and pulling her upright so that he could hug her tightly. "Not much longer and all we'll have left to worry about is whether Mum'll lose her mind before the wedding."

Though Hermione couldn't see Harry, as Ron was entirely too tall and his shoulder blocked her view of the bed, she could practically hear him smirking as he said, "I still can't believe it's only a month out. It's gone so fast, what with everything else."

"Not when you're in the thick of it. I think we'll both be happy when it's done with already," Ron remarked, and Hermione didn't disagree. Truthfully, as much as she was looking forward to celebrating with their friends and family, she wished there was some way she could simply be married to Ron without the drama and stress that had accompanied the past few months.

Harry chuckled. "I don't blame you. I'd almost rather elope."

"Can you imagine what would have happened if we'd done that?" Ron asked incredulously, turning to face Harry but keeping an arm about Hermione's waist. "We'd have got ourselves killed twice over!"

"I don't think our parents would have resorted to murder, Ron," Hermione tutted.

Ron rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. And anyway, I'd want the family there."

"Aren't there over a hundred people coming?" Harry asked wryly.

"Well, once you invite the family and the close friends, you've got to invite most of the rest of the DA, haven't you?" Ron asked reasonably. "We didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, after all."

Harry snorted. "And you care about other people's feelings since?"

"Since I decided to marry Hermione," Ron said proudly, puffing his chest out.

"Made an executive decision to marry her, did you?" a teasing voice came from the open door. Ginny sauntered in and kissed Harry on the cheek before settling down at the foot of his bed. "Feeling any better?"

"Loads," Harry replied with a smile. "They say I'll be back home before the day's over."

"Good, I didn't much fancy spending another night here," Ginny said.

Ron began to mumble something in response, but he cut off immediately after Hermione nudged him harshly in the side. "Are you ready for lunch, Ginny?" Hermione asked kindly.

"Lunch sounds fantastic," Ron enthused, but Ginny was quick to shake her head.

"You're not coming with us. We've got wedding things to discuss," Ginny explained.

"It's my wedding too!" Ron protested, frowning.

"We're going to be talking about girly things," Hermione placated, patting his arm kindly. "Dresses and flowers and a whole number of frivolities you couldn't care less about."

"I care," Ron insisted half-heartedly, but Hermione just rolled her eyes and wiggled out of his embrace.

"Good luck with the questioning today," she told him sweetly, bouncing up on her tiptoes to kiss him quickly on the lips. "I'll see you at home."

"See you," Ron replied, offering her a contented smile.

"And I'll be back to see you out of this place in a bit," Ginny told Harry with a wink before she linked her arm through Hermione's and led her outside before she could do so much as properly wish Harry well.

"I feel like I haven't got to talk to you properly in ages," Ginny said as they made their way through the corridors of St. Mungo's. "How did it go with your parents yesterday?"

"Really well, actually," Hermione beamed. "Ron had a chat with my dad, which I think really helped things."

"Ron had a chat?" Ginny sounded very impressed. "I don't know what you've done to him, Hermione, but I swear he's matured about ten years since the two of you got together."

"Well, part of that happened the year we were on the run," Hermione replied thoughtfully, "but to be honest, I think it's always been there."

Ginny hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, he's always had a good heart. Just needed to develop the brains to use it."

Hermione still thought Ginny was being a little unfair, but wrote it off as a sibling thing and let the subject drop as they rode the lift and exited St. Mungo's. There was a pub just a short walk down the street that would do nicely for their lunch, and they filled the time spent walking discussing Ginny's bridesmaid gown, which they would be picking up over the weekend.

"Anyway, I'm glad we went with the darker blue instead of a cerulean," Ginny was saying as they took their seats at a table inside the pub a few minutes later.

"We should really just be glad we managed to avoid Gryffindor or Chudley colors," Hermione remarked with a laugh.

"Well, we may not all be that lucky. I'm afraid you may be stuck in scarlet for mine and Harry's," Ginny said apologetically. "At least you've got the hair for it."

"Have you and Harry talked about it, then? Getting married?" Hermione asked, smiling her thanks at the waiter who had brought them the soup and salad they'd chosen for lunch.

"Not in so many words," Ginny replied, "but we've got more adjustments to make than the two of you, haven't we? What with me starting at Holyhead next season and all that. I think we both know, though, after all that's happened."

Hermione nodded understandingly. "Absolutely. I've never seen Harry so happy as when he's with you."

Ginny smiled. "What about you and Ron, though? If anybody's happy together it's the two of you. It's a little disgusting, to be honest."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We aren't that bad."

"Yes you are," Ginny insisted with a grin. "Not that it's surprising, mind. You're still in the honeymoon period."

Hermione felt her smile falter. Though she tried to correct herself immediately, Ginny caught it: "What?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Hermione dismissed, taking a large bite of salad as if to distract herself, but a hard look from Ginny told her they weren't changing the subject. "Alright, it's just that I don't like that phrase."

"Honeymoon period?" Ginny frowned in confusion.

"Yes," Hermione replied shortly, training her eyes on her fork as she felt her cheeks redden.

"Hermione." When she finally raised her eyes, Ginny did not look amused.

She bit her lip and shifted her eyes around a bit before saying: "Be honest, alright? You don't think we're rushing into things, do you?"

"Do you?" Ginny asked immediately, her brow still furrowed.

"No," Hermione replied slowly, "not really."

"Then what are you asking me for?" Ginny demanded.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know."

"Is this about your parents?" Ginny asked tentatively. "I thought they were coming round."

"Yes, well, I think it may be more out of necessity than anything else," Hermione admitted carefully. "They just - they don't know what we've been through."

"So they don't realize that you actually know what you're doing?" Ginny finished questioningly.

"That's sort of what I think," Hermione replied with a sigh. "It's just…I know Ron better than I know anybody, and vice versa. We've already seen each other at our worst, you know? We've had all those ridiculous rows, and we've come through them."

Ginny nodded knowingly. "You have indeed had some ridiculous rows in your day."

"So that's why it doesn't fell right to call it a honeymoon period," Hermione continued. "It's like…it's not doe-eyed puppy love, not with everything we've seen."

"Well, if this isn't a honeymoon period, I dread to see what the actual honeymoon will be like," Ginny teased. "It's sweet, it really is, but that doesn't change the fact that he and I were in nappies together."

Hermione laughed, grateful that Ginny had a knack for easing the tension in a tactful way. She felt rather silly, worrying the way she did about things that had really been resolved long ago, but Ginny had a way of making things seem alright anyway. "Oh, we aren't so bad, are we?"

"If you could see the way you look at each other," Ginny groaned, gagging exaggeratedly.

Hermione laughed again, though she privately reflected that she and Ron would never hear the end of it if the others knew how affectionate they could get when they were alone.

"In all seriousness, Hermione - are you scared at all?" Ginny asked briskly once they'd returned to their meal.

Hermione bit her lip and considered for a moment. "A little, I suppose," she replied thoughtfully - and for the most part, truthfully. "But it's mostly the kind of scared I was the first time I went to Hogwarts, you know?"

Ginny smiled in understanding, and the two future sisters-in-law spent the rest of their lunch happily discussing the decorations for the ceremony.

-000-

Ron was frustrated. No, that was an understatement. He was actually a bit furious. He hadn't been allowed in to Parkinson's interrogation. Isaac hadn't wanted his emotions to get the better of him, and in retrospect, that had probably been a good idea. Ron wasn't sure he would have been able to stop himself hexing her. He'd almost tried to through the wall, which had a one-way revealing charm cast upon it so that he could view the proceedings without Parkinson knowing.

But the most frustrating part about the whole thing was that two hours later, he was still there. On the advice of her counsel, Parkinson had confessed to her role in the threatening messages, testifying that she'd only been having "a bit of fun" messing with her old classmates, but it wasn't enough. It was blatantly clear that she wasn't acting alone and that it was, in fact, a serious matter. The interrupted meeting only proved it, but she was simply not talking on that front.

When at last Bryce emerged from the room to greet Ron, leaving Isaac to take Pansy back to the holding cell, his first words were, "We're going to Greengrass' place."

"What? Why?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"She faltered when we asked about her," Bryce said shortly. "You might have missed it from out here. Anyway, we only talked to the sister last time. Might as well give it a go now that we're pretty sure there's a group of them, yeah?"

"Alright," Ron agreed as they began to make their way back upstairs. "Now, then?"

"Yep," Bryce confirmed."And you're coming, too. Now that we've got her in custody, I think we all want this thing locked up once and for all."

"D'you think everybody at that meeting had something to do with it?" Ron asked - he'd already formed his own opinion, of course, and he was curious as to whether or not his colleagues shared it.

"Could have done," Bryce replied. "But whatever it was, they're good at covering their tracks. Report came in before you got here, there was nothing left at the scene that does us any good."

"Doubt it was a former Death Eater picnic," Ron remarked darkly.

"Probably not," Bryce acknowledged. "But we don't really know what it was at all."

"Why do you reckon Parkinson confessed? Our evidence against her really isn't that good," Ron pointed out.

"Well, the messages themselves are a minor offense, aren't they?" Bryce replied. "I think she knows we've got her on that, 'specially once the search team finishes with her flat. She might get a lesser punishment by pleading guilty. She'll want to try to minimize her sentence, given she cursed Potter."

"S'pose so," Ron acknowledged. "But if we can prove that meeting meant something, then all that wouldn't matter."

"Exactly," Bryce confirmed."So that's why we've got to get a move on, haven't we?"

A few minutes later, Ron, Bryce, and Isaac had apparated to a point that was just down the road from the Greengrass estate. Ron was uncomfortably reminded of the Malfoy Manor as they approached. He wondered briefly what it was about huge houses that made them appear so unwelcoming. In this case, the place had a gate around it that made him feel as though he were entering a prison, and the Gothic-style architecture of the house itself wasn't terribly inviting, either.

"I'll do most of the talking," Isaac said as he knocked on the door. A small, anxious house elf opened it less than a moment later, and Ron's thoughts floated immediately back to Hermione, which strengthened his resolve.

"Are Daphne or Astoria in?" Isaac asked the elf politely.

"Miss Astoria is in sir, but not Miss Daphne, I'm afraid," the elf replied, nervously wiping his hands on the plain tunic he wore. "But Miss Astoria is with company, sir, and I don't know if she'll want to be disturbed."

"It's very important that we speak with her," Ron told the elf kindly, in a tone of voice that he knew Hermione would have been proud of. "Would you mind bringing her to the door for us?"

"I will tell her you are here, sir!" the elf squealed. "But whom should I say is calling?"

"Auror department," Bryce said shortly, and the elf nearly tripped over his feet as he made his way out of the entry hall. Only a moment later, a short, blonde woman appeared from an adjoining room. Ron was a bit surprised to see that she had a rather pleasant face, though her eyes bore a fierce expression that Ron suspected was a permanent fixture.

"Didn't I speak to you a few weeks ago?" the woman asked with a frown, addressing Isaac.

"Our case has progressed since then," Isaac replied shortly. "I understand your sister is out?"

"She is, and I don't know where she's gone," Astoria replied, still frowning.

"Astoria, love, who is - oh," Draco Malfoy had just appeared in the hallway. For a moment (once the shock of hearing Malfoy using the word "love" had worn off), Ron could think of nothing else but the brood of blonde, icy-eyed children the two of them could produce, and he almost had to stifle a laugh. The idea of mini-Malfoys was simultaneously hilarious and terrifying.

"What are you lot doing here? We've both helped your little investigation," Malfoy spat, the accusatory tone oozing from his voice.

"Things have progressed, I'm afraid," Isaac repeated. "We were hoping to catch Ms. Daphne Greengrass and ask her a few questions, but I understand she's out."

"Do you know if she'll be much longer?" Bryce asked. "It really is imperative that we speak with her."

Malfoy looked ready to shout them down, but Astoria spoke first, "I don't know, but I don't want to cause any trouble. You're welcome to stay for a bit."

"Thank you," Isaac replied politely, and Astoria led them to room she'd appeared from, which was an overtly large sitting room stock full of rather uncomfortable looking chairs. Ron was reminded of the Grangers' sitting room, though this one was a bit darker and did not have any photographs in sight.

"Take a seat," Astoria said politely, gesturing toward the chairs.

"Do you mind if we ask you a few questions in the meantime?" Isaac asked as the three Aurors sat gingerly on leather armchairs.

Astoria visibly tensed. "I told you everything I knew last time," she snapped as she took a seat on a larger chair, next to Malfoy, who took her hand, much to Ron's discomfort. It was a bit unnerving; he'd never seen Malfoy display true affection for anyone, other than perhaps his mother.

"Was your sister out last night as well, Astoria?" Bryce implored.

"I don't know," Astoria replied shortly. "I was visiting Draco last night."

"And how late did you arrive home?" Isaac asked, pulling a small sheet of parchment from the pocket of his cloak and making a few notes.

"Ten o'clock this morning," Astoria said, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "Like I said, I don't know where Daphne was. I only saw her for about an hour before she ran off again."

"And she hasn't been acting strangely these last couple of weeks?" Isaac asked. "Not at all?"

"You ought to tell them," Malfoy cut in firmly, looking very uncomfortable yet still determined.

"Tell us what?" Ron asked immediately, speaking for the first time since Astoria had greeted them.

"I don't know if there's anything to tell," Astoria said, turning to Malfoy with a desperate expression.

"Anything and everything could help," Bryce said, a bit of kindness coloring his tone.

"Astoria, you could be harboring a criminal," Malfoy told her, squeezing her hand. "Just tell them everything you told me last night."

Ron had to cover a snicker. If there was one thing Malfoy was good at, it was covering his own arse. But Astoria seemed to find his argument compelling, and began to speak:

"I think Daph's fallen in with a dodgy crowd," she said carefully, still grasping Malfoy's hand. "She and Pansy and Millie have always been close, yeah, but it's been strange as of late. She's never home, which doesn't make sense as she only works at our aunt's shop three days a week. Whenever the other two come here, they lock themselves in her room and won't come out. I've never been close to Daphne, you see, but such secrecy…it's just strange, that's all," Astoria finished, looking toward her feet.

"Astoria, Pansy Parkinson was arrested last night," Isaac said. "She's confessed to the threats we've been investigating. You have to understand that your sister's connection to her is troubling."

Astoria gulped. "Look, if my sister asks then I didn't say this, but if Pansy's involved, I think Daphne is too. Every other night she runs off to meet Pansy and Millie someplace."

This essentially confirmed everything the Aurors had suspected, and they each thanked Astoria profusely.

"This means you're off the hook then, yeah?" Malfoy told her encouragingly.

"She didn't do anything wrong," Isaac said kindly. "We're just going to stay here until Daphne gets back, if that's alright."

Thankfully, they didn't have to wait long. No less than five minutes later, they heard the front door open, and Isaac, Bryce, and Ron returned to the entrance hall, leaving a slightly nervous Astoria in Malfoy's care.

"Daphne Greengrass?" Isaac's voice boomed through the hall as they entered to find a taller and slightly tougher version of Astoria kicking off her shoes by the door.

"Yes, and who are you?" Daphne asked suspiciously as she threw her cloak to the floor.

"We're from the Auror Department. We'd just like to ask you a few questions."

Bryce hadn't finished his sentence before Daphne had drawn her wand. Ron barely had time to jump to the side as she shot off a string of curses; the wide entry hall was alit with color. Ron didn't know where either of the other two were, so he simply drew his own wand and cast up a Shield Charm as he lay low on the ground. But just a moment later, a jet of red light shot from Isaac's wand, disarming Daphne, and Bryce and Ron hurried forward to bind her hands and make the arrest.

-000-

"Well, she's confessed to the threats," Bryce said emphatically an hour later as he returned to the office, where Isaac and Ron were sat doing paperwork. "On advice of counsel, naturally. That's not to say she had much of a choice, mind; the fact that she attacked us the second we identified ourselves told us more than we needed to know. Anyway, she indicated Bulstrode as well."

"Even if she hadn't done, the search team found a stack parchment in Parkinson's flat that would have made it all clear enough," Ron told him. "They had some notes about the victims they didn't bother to transfigure, and it's written on paper adorned with the Bulstrode family crest."

"But there was nothing about a larger organization. She didn't say anything to you about the meeting?" Isaac asked.

"'Fraid not. We can try Bulstrode; did you send a detail out to hers?" Bryce threw himself into a chair, sighing heavily.

"Yep. They'll be arresting her soon as they see her," Isaac confirmed. "Did you take a transcript of the interrogation?"

Bryce handed Isaac his notes, and Ron pulled his chair up to look over the elder man's shoulder. "So it seems Greengrass maintains it was just the three of them," Isaac observed after a moment.

"Bullshit," Ron replied promptly.

"I agree with you, Weasley," Bryce said seriously. "Soon as we get Bulstrode's confession, which shouldn't be too hard given she's already been implicated, we set into her about it. Whatever we stumbled into last night could be a lot bigger than a couple of threatening owls."

"The thing that gets me is how they managed to get the meeting times," Isaac observed. "We've been watching their post. Some correspondence with each other, yeah, but little with the outside world. It must've been done in person."

"Which makes it damn near impossible to track," Bryce added with a sigh. "Like I've been saying, we've got to hope the last one talks."

Just then, a loud screeching came from just outside the office doors. The three men rushed toward it, wands in tow, to find that the noise had come from a certain handcuffed Millicent Bulstrode, who had apparently not decided to come quietly.

"This is an outrage!" she shrieked. "Absolute fucking bullshit!"

"This way, Miss Bulstrode," the Auror who had brought her in was attempting to say, but his pleas were drowned out by her shouting.

"- this joke you call a government! Self-righteous bastards, fucking stalking me, showing up outside my home - and YOU!" she had apparently noticed Ron, and had swiveled to face him. "You and your fucking Mudblood girlfriend! That bitch is dead, you hear me? You're wrong if you think you can keep her safe! Dead fucking wrong!"

The Auror managed to get her under control and drag her away, but the damage had been done. Unseeing, unhearing, Ron stormed out of the Auror office, leaving a shouting Bryce and Isaac behind. He felt as though he were in a dream, a nightmare. It didn't matter to him whether Bulstrode had been lying, because the rational part of his brain wasn't working. Dead. The word rang through his ears as he ran through the corridors, cursing the Ministry's anti-Apparition charms as he went. He tried to calm himself down, but attempting to reassure himself only fueled his fire. He thought briefly of the myriad of protective charms on their flat - but hadn't she been out? No, he couldn't think like that. She was safe. She was safe. She was safe. But no matter how many times he repeated it, he couldn't convince himself here. He needed to get to Hermione. Nothing else mattered.

A/N: Sorry. This story is epilogue-compliant, though. And keep in mind that Ron's a bit paranoid at the mo, as well. Still, the next chapter is written, and I'll try to update a bit quicker than usual! As in Friday or Saturday. Also, now that we're getting into the thick of the action, please let me know if there seem to be any plot holes - I've tried my best, but it's completely possible I've forgotten to explain something important. (It's also possible the answer is still coming.) By the way: we are now over halfway! Thanks for reading. :)