Following Dagmar's confession, they moved swiftly and silently. Willems was arrested on the charge of international conspiracy and a list of charges pertaining to the dragons he endangered. Upon the administration of veritaserum, all his lies, his machinations and the dark side of his personality came out fully and on record,in the presence of Romanian and Belgian Aurors. United Wizarding Nations were contacted with regards to the matter as well and were taking action against the Belgian Ministry.

Bill and Hermione stayed at the reserve for a couple more days, steadily ignoring the media that was trying to get in touch with them once the whole thing leaked, and helped Charlie administer the last of the cure. Even Hera, the beautiful Chinese Fireball lady, was now healing nicely from her advanced stage of the disease.

They couldn't impose longer though, as Charlie's home was hardly made to fit more than two people at best and all three of them were quite crammed in the cottage. So they decided to find a hotel in Bucharest where their evidence hearing with the United Wizarding Nations would take place. Out of gratitude for their cooperation, the Romanian Minister of Magic also organised a ceremonial ball in their honour, where they were to be presented with the prestigious Order of Dracul, which as Charlie translated for them was the Order of the Dragon and was the equivalent of the Order of Merlin, first class. Hermione was not really one for ceremony at all but accepted that it was part of their role as British citizens in international relations, and agreed to attend with Bill.

The Ministry wouldn't allow them to pay for their own accommodation, insisting on housing them in the old part of the city in the Hilton. They only requested that they share a suite again, so they could work together on producing their report and finalising their expenses for their hired time. And their wishes were heard in the form a luxurious suite with two queen-sized rooms, walk in wardrobes, and a bathroom with both a shower stall and a large claw-foot bathtub.

"I am quite pleasantly surprised, they have been very kind to us," Hermione set down her bag and let Apollo out for a prance around the new room. He stretched his paws out one by one and walked around curiously, exploring the spacious room.

"They have indeed. Can you imagine being honoured by the British Ministry? I hear they had an honoured guest from the Spanish diplomatic court stay at the Leaky Cauldron," he mused, entertained by the difference between the two Ministries.

"No! Really? I wonder whose idea of it was to consider it an appropriate establishment," Hermione shook her head and picked up the different newspapers that were left on their table. Romanian, French and the British Digest. Very thorough indeed. The photos from the reserve, the arresting photographs of Lucas Willems and the photos of herself and Bill were across the front pages of all three. At least it will hopefully make business good...

"We should finalise the report tonight so we are prepared for the evidence hearing tomorrow," Bill suggested.

Hermione nodded and headed for her handbag. "I need to do some shopping first though. I didn't bring anything appropriate for a ball, so I want to pick something up. Do you need a suit or robes as well?" she suggested.

Bill contemplated the idea for a moment but knew he would have to wear either a full three-piece wizarding suit or robes, and didn't bring either. To be honest he could use a new addition to his wardrobe. "Lunch is on me," he pulled his coat tighter around himself, the cold Romanian autumn much different from the mild British weather.

They inquired with the magical hostess at the reception about a formal wear boutique and she gave them a little map that highlighted the Calea Victoriei, which had an entrance to the equally named magical district. With a map in hand they headed out, Hermione holding onto Bill's forearm as he so gallantly offered it. They walked into a small boutique and immediately saw where they were supposed to go, a door that was hidden under notice-me-not charms from the muggles gaining their attention. They cast some spells upon themselves to remain in the shadows and headed through the door and into a bright Autumnal day.

They walked along the cobbled street amongst the many witches and wizards shopping for their all-hallows eve celebrations at home and at school. Hermione smiled fondly at the memory of their first Halloween at Hogwarts, when she got attacked by a troll and their friendship with Harry and Ron was cemented. The smile saddened somewhat, at how far from each other their personal journeys took them in the past years.

"That appears to be the shop with robes," Bill pointed out, drawing her attention to their surroundings.

Hermione looked at the sign and nodded, the thread and scissors indication that it was so indeed. "Let's try that first. I would prefer a dress or a ball gown, so we'll see what they can offer," she suggested as they walked in. They greeted the head seamstress who picked up on their English and replied in kind. The ready made clothing was gendered so they split up to go their separate ways, giving each other some time and privacy to browse.

She was impressed with the selection they offered, some muggle dresses and gowns mixing with robes and combined designs that looked like dresses with a built in cape or trail. The Romanian fashion was of course different from British, and Hermione had to admit she liked a few pieces. She carried her choices to the ladies changing rooms and one of the assistants came with her to help her make any adjustments. Bill's choice was made rather quickly. He knew what he liked and once it was fitted to his height and measurements, he paid and sat down in the waiting area patiently. He wouldn't begrudge Hermione the time she needed. He once saw her at a Ministry function, when they were all still recovering from the battle, but she didn't shy away from showing her scars in an elegant dress that had witches whispering and wizards following her figure with their eyes. He then wondered why she didn't glamour them, knowing they would cause gossip. Now, after years of living with his own scars, he appreciated that she did not wish to hide a part of her that made her the person she was on the inside.

He got up when she came in, the assistant carrying a garment bag that would protect her purchase for travel. "You look happy with your choice," Bill offered as he joined her at the till.

"I am. Some of this fashion is more conservative than at home but there were a few great pieces," she complimented the head seamstress who seemed pleased with her foreign customers. Bill took the garment bag from her and folded it over his arm before holding the door for her.

Hermione smiled in gratitude, appreciating his manners, something Arthur had a hand in for certain. They found a little corner bistro that served a range of delicious soups and sat down for lunch. It felt like a date more so than a lunch spent between two colleagues and when Hermione looked into Bill's sparkling green eyes, she could tell that they were both enjoying this time spent together without the pressure of a case to solve.

Sadly for them though the report was not going to finish itself and they had to prepare for the hearing. So they finished their lunch and headed back to the hotel to do just that.


Hermione coaxed her wild curls to behave at least somewhat with a small handful of Moroccan argan oil, glad they weren't too fuzzy today and had enough time to dry. The hearing started at the crack of dawn and continued all the way to lunch. By the time they finished, everyone was starving and Hermione needed to get going to start getting ready for the evening ball. So they grabbed a quick lunch before apparating to their hotel.

Bill gallantly let her hog the bathroom for more than two hours while he dealt with some correspondence before heading to shower and to get ready himself. As the bathroom connected their rooms, she could hear the water running through the door to her right. Hermione tried not to think of the naked man only a few feet away from her. The brilliant, funny, devilishly smart, and handsome man that was currently naked. In the bathroom. Dear Merlin, she needed to scratch that itch, it's been too long. Resolutely she tied her bathrobe securely around her nude form before picking up the mobile phone tossed on her bed and dialling a well-known number. The call was picked up after only three rings and Grace's bubbly voice sounded in her ear, making her smile.

"Hey boss, how are the dragons?" she asked almost impatiently.

Hermione chuckled. "They're fine, international crisis is averted and we're nearly done here. And don't call me boss, I feel old."

"You ARE old, I mean your need to wear more colour, especially in your hair," Grace teased her.

Hermione snorted inelegantly. "And what colour is your hair right now, pray tell?" she asked teasingly.

There was a moment of silence before the admission came. "Pink….maybe….I admit to nothing."

She could practically hear the pout through the phone and chuckled. "I'm sure it looks great. Has the shop burnt down yet?" she asked despite knowing very well how responsible Grace was.

"Oh no, we're good. Just got the shipment of some new muggle romance novels. I will definitely be grabbing some for my own study! By the way, we have a new assistant! His name is Danny, and he's a whiz with cappuccinos! He makes these great designs with the froth," she practically beamed and then didn't stop talking about Danny and the customers for a good twenty minutes.

Hermione was grinning when she finally said goodbye to her friend and employee, glad everything was going well. The past few days have been intense. She loved autumn in Europe, maybe she could take a few days off for a long weekend somewhere like Italy or Greece, as the temperature there was still in the 20 to 28 degrees celsius range. It was now nearing five and they had only about an hour left to get ready, so she left daydreaming about a warm island and began moisturising.

She made sure to rub her favourite hibiscus lotion into her skin gently. It had a slight shimmer to it and would go well with the dress she chose for tonight. She looked at the crimson chiffon gown, and marvelled at the beautiful design. It was three-quarter sleeve with a lovely square neckline and inbuilt support in the bodice that would hug her curves and decently enhance her bust. It cut nicely in at the waist which suited her pear-shaped body, and then flowed down to the floor. She loved the beautiful trail that was attached to the shoulder seam of the dress and fell gracefully past the hem of her dress. Nothing extravagant, but it had a nice effect. All the sleeve edges and the neckline hems had Traditional Romanian motifs hand-stitched into the fabric, and they were absolutely exquisite.

She knew this was the gown for her when she saw it, a local designer who only had a few pieces in the shop but all of them breathtaking and each different. This was however the one that immediately caught her eye as it gave a nod to both their birthplace and the Romanian national colours. Even if she only ever wore it this once, it would forever remind her of this beautiful country and the mission where she got to work with the incredible magical creatures at the reserve. She stepped into it and made sure the bodice was resting where it was supposed to be before waving her wand to seal the hidden zip at the back and tighten the bodice slightly. She looked into the mirror and smiled. It fit perfectly.

Now she was wondering whether she should pull her hair up though as the curls were long and bouncy and hid the top of her dress. "What do you think, Apollo?" she asked the kitten snoozing on her pillow.

He opened one eye, yawned at her and purred. She took that as a yes, despite the fact that it probably meant 'do whatever you want with your fur, human'.

Deciding not to torture it too much but keep it contained, she pulled it into a loose but carefully managed French braid, keeping it in with a sealing charm and some mild hair lacquer. The braid ended in the middle of her back and showed off the beautiful sewing work at the shoulders and her neck. Satisfied with the effect, she put on her simple small gold hoops that hugged her earlobe, a gift from her mum on her fifteenth birthday, and gently caressed the one ring she has worn since the war on her forefinger. It was a lovely gold ring with a single round garnet, an heirloom from her dad's side of the family, the only thing she had left of him other than her memories and magical photos. They would have been proud of what she achieved, she thought. A knock on the door disrupted her fond memories and made her smile. It was time it seemed, and she was just about ready as she stepped into her black heels and grabbed her clutch. Bill was getting worried as the time neared for them to floo to the ministry and Hermione was still nowhere to be seen. Charlie was going to meet them there and would probably be waiting for them by the fireplace.

"Sorry, I was just putting on the finishing touches," her voice drew Bill's gaze and he was momentarily silent, just taking her in.

She looked beautiful, her natural beauty enhanced with minimal make-up, her plait contained but still wild in spirit, and the dress suited her shape fantastically. But most of all her eyes were bright, and freckles stood out on the bridge of her nose in contrast with her rosy cheeks. Bill could look into those eyes for days, and he knew that despite the rest of her beauty, those eyes that showed her mind and heart were what would draw his gaze for the rest of the night. "I am very fortunate to be escorting you tonight, you look splendid," he kissed her knuckles gallantly, his heightened senses picking up his favourite scent, hibiscus.

"As you look handsome," she replied in kind and reached out to gently to tuck in his tie where it was pulling out of his vest. His trousers and vest were black, but his suit jacket was made of velvet and when it moved she could see its wine red sheen. What a lovely match they made. It rarely happened to her, she most often clashed with Ginny in some way when they were seen out together, as their styles were so different, but this was indeed a happy coincidence considering the amount of press there was going to be.

"Shall we?" he lifted his arm and she placed her palm atop his as they stepped into the emerald flames and landed safely in the main lobby of the Romanian ministry. A member of staff cleaned the soot from them and provided them with directions in English before they set towards a grand hall.

It was decorated tastefully in autumnal colours now that Halloween had passed and they were greeting November today. There was already quite a crowd but it was easy to spot Charlie. He looked very nice in a grey suit but he probably would have been much more comfortable in his usual jeans. Standing beside him was another man, one Hermione hasn't met before, with unruly raven hair falling to his shoulder, which he somewhat nervously tucked behind his ear. Hermione nearly stopped when she noticed a faded scar on his forehead, before her steps quickened. It couldn't be….