A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my reader, Supernatural Believer, who has pointed out that I MESSED UP. If you were confused, Emma's a Ravenclaw, NOT a Gryffindor. Disregard any spot where I've said otherwise and slap my wrists if you see me mess up so terribly again. Sigh. I apologize. It's one of the hazards of doing a bajillion stories at once on top of original work. I'm amazed I even remember my own name. Still, no excuses and a BIG thank you to Supernatural Believer!

-C

Emma had gotten into the routine of being at the Ministry, and it seemed that either someone had talked him out of it or Scrimgeour had decided that she wasn't worth the effort of chasing away because her workload had become reasonable again, and she even got to work fairly close with Arthur Weasley on a regular basis.

"Fred said Harry's coming to live with you," she said over lunch in the Ministry cafeteria.

"Yes, in a few days," Arthur said, looking Emma up and down, chewing on his bite of sandwich and considering, like he wanted to say something but was afraid.

"What's wrong, Arthur?" Emma asked, mixing the dressing into her salad a bit more with her fork.

He took a deep breath, then leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice.

"I know you're living with Fred," he whispered. "Everyone knows you're staying with Fred and George. And it's putting Molly through fits but... Well, there's something different about you lately, Emma. I hate to ask but... did you elope with Fred?"

Emma dropped her fork, shocked.

It wasn't that she'd ever thought that Arthur Weasley was stupid. In fact, she knew that he and his wife were both incredibly intelligent, which was shown easily in their many children. But what clue could she have given that would have led him to even suspect the truth of what he had just asked.

"I-I-"

"I would suspect that's a yes," Arthur sighed. "Don't worry, I won't tell Molly or anyone else. You forget Molly and I eloped during the first war. Many others did as well. I can recognize the signs, although you were very good at hiding it, I have to confess."

"You're not upset?" Emma said softly, feeling pink color her cheeks.

"And why would I be?" Arthur said cheerfully. "Molly was honestly worried that Fred would never get married, or if he did it would be to someone totally... well, a bad fit. Anyway, you're a lovely, talented, intelligent young woman. Fred clearly loves you. I think Fred eloping saves his mother the stress of rowing with him over the wedding, anyway."

She laughed. She hadn't thought of that, but it was probably true.

"Thank you, Arthur," she said with a smile. "It means a lot to me."

"Glad to have you as a Weasley, dear," he said genuinely. Then he leaned over a bit further and said, "Besides, it's especially good to have a daughter-in-law who can teach me more about Muggles."

Emma laughed again and said, "I'd be happy to," which was true. Now that Arthur knew about their being married it was like she had a parent again, although she didn't have her own parents. The Weasleys had always been like surrogate parents, anyway, though, treating her with as much or more care as her own parents had since she'd known them.

In a way having someone else know was like a weight off Emma's chest, and that was when she came to a decision.

"Hello to you too, love," Fred laughed as Emma came bursting into the door, grabbing him by his collar and basically dragging him to their bedroom. When she closed the door behind him and put up a silencing charm Fred came up behind her, moving her hair over one shoulder and whispering in her ear, "Long day at work, beautiful?"

"We need to talk," she said.

Fred groaned then, falling to sit on the foot of the bed, pouting at her.

"You got me all excited," he complained. "What is so important that it can't wait until I make you scream my name?"

Emma shivered slightly, wondering how exactly he was planning to do that, but she needed to stay focused, so she kissed his forehead gently and said, "In a minute. Your dad knows."

He frowned.

"He knows what?"

"He knows we eloped," Emma whispered, even though she knew George couldn't hear. "He figured it out somehow on his own and I wasn't about to lie right to his face. He said he wouldn't tell your mother-"

"Thank Merlin," Fred exhaled.

"But I think we should tell George," Emma finished quickly. "I mean, George and Tien. They'll keep the secret and I feel bad about them not knowing."

Fred blinked, sighing and pulling Emma into his lap.

"Wow," he muttered. "I really didn't see this coming."

"Nor did I," Emma admitted. "He just seemed like he had something on his mind and when I asked..." She shrugged, trailing off.

"Yeah," Fred nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right, we're going to have to tell them. They deserve to know before Mum does, and George might even run into the paperwork at some point if he's looking through our room for something. I keep my plans in the same box."

Emma tried very hard not to roll her eyes at how silly her husband could sometimes be.

"So," she sighed, "I propose that we tell George and Tien straight away after you make me scream your name. Objections?"

He smirked, pushing her down onto the bed.

"Now how could I possibly object to anything that involves you screaming my name?" he muttered, beginning by peeling off her clothes and kissing every inch of her body.

Of course, she screamed his name multiple times before they were done, but when they finally collapsed together in their bed she turned to him and said, "All right, now we've got to go tell them."

Fred groaned.

"But we're all sweaty and sticky and ruffled," he pointed out.

"You did make a deal, darling," she reminded him. "I'm going to hold you to it, so you're going to have to either go out there like this or freshen yourself a bit before you go out, but you're going out there and in what state is entirely up to you."

Emma really didn't care very much if George or Tien knew that she and Fred had been having sex. She just needed to throw her clothes back on. They probably assumed that they'd been having sex anyway.

As it turned out, Fred agreed with her in this sentiment, not bothering to do more than pull on his trousers before following her out into the living area where Tien was going over some information on one of the products they were coming out with in a month's time on the sofa.

"Well hello there," George said with a playful eyebrow wiggle. "Look who decided to surface. Might have at least pretended we didn't all know what you two were doing in there, you know."

"Why bother?" Tien said with a shrug. "Pretending's a waste of energy."

George just shrugged and grinned and looked at Emma and Fred expectantly, who were exchanging nervous glances.

"Yes?" he prompted. "Was there something you were going to say before we chided you on your practices?"

"Don't say 'we'," Tien clucked. "I chided you, not them. They've not done anything yet worthy of my chiding."

Emma sighed, turning to Fred, who shrugged. Then she turned back to her friends.

"So Fred and I got married," she muttered.

There was a mass of unified blinking for several long moments before George finally said, "Since you've not started laughing yet, Freddie, I'm going to assume that this actually happened."

"Yeah, it did," Fred said with a nervous smile. "We wanted to keep it a secret, mostly so Mum doesn't go mental, but somehow dad figured it out and we figured that if he knows then you two should no. But no one else. We really don't want Mum going mental."

Tien blinked again and then shrieked, "Are you pregnant? Am I going to be a godmother?"

Emma couldn't help but think that if she were actually pregnant that Tien would probably be a bit low on her list of probable godparents, but she just shook her head, laughed, and said that no, she wasn't pregnant.

"That's good," George sighed. "Trust me, my twin's not ready for fatherhood. He's barely certifiable as an adult anyway. But when you do, I'm totally the godfather."

Emma sighed, thrilled that they weren't upset about the fact that they'd been keeping the marriage a secret. It would have been the type of thing Tien would have taken very personally, typically. But it was Emma, so Tien was a bit more lenient because they'd been loyal friends since they'd been sorted into Ravenclaw together. There was a loyalty so deep there that not even a Hufflepuff could compete with it.

It was something Emma hadn't really thought much about, though, pregnancy. She and Fred hadn't been exactly careless, but they hadn't been particularly careful, either. What if she did get pregnant? What would happen?

She would have a child and they would raise it, but what sort of a life would that child have during a war? After all, was it really responsible for Harry's parents to have him and then leave him orphaned?

But on the other hand, how could she let the Death Eaters and Voldemort dictate how she lived her life? Wasn't her - a Muggleborn witch - having a child with Fred - a pureblood - exactly the sort of thing that was against everything the Death Eaters stood for?

Emma got the sickening feeling that Lily Potter had had similar debates with herself before having Harry. Were they legitimate considerations, or was she trying to justify something to herself?

Needless to say, Emma realized that there were things she and Fred really needed to talk about.

That night after dinner she went straight to their room, sitting in the middle of their bed, clutching her legs to her chest and rubbing her arms nervously.

Fred came to join her moments later, a frown on his face as he closed the door behind himself.

"Are you all right, darling? You don't look so good. What's on your mind?"

Emma shrugged, patting the bed beside her. He sat down there, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Tien got me thinking," she whispered nervously. How was he going to take this? "What if I do get pregnant? What are we going to do? I mean... I mean this is a war and I... I..."

"Shh," Fred whispered soothingly, smoothing her hair gently. "Relax, love. Just relax. We'll be more careful if you want. If you do get pregnant we'll figure it out from there, right? But let's just plan on it not being a problem for now, all right?"

"Right," Emma whispered, wincing. "Right."

"It's going to be all right, sweetheart," he cooed. "I promise that no matter what happens we're going to make it through this just fine. All right?"

Emma nodded, leaning back into Fred's strong chest, which was always such a great comfort to her. In a way she'd gotten such a weight of her chest, telling their best friends about their marriage. Yes, the talk of children and pregnancy had caused a momentary panic, but Fred was right. All they could really do was be more careful and take care of if when if became the immediate future, and if it did.

So Emma curled up with Fred, her husband, and smiled at the thought of how wonderful it was that she could think of him that way, that he thought of her as his wife, and that they would never be separated, especially after years of denying themselves of that sort of happiness together.

She woke up on Saturday, rubbing her eyes and wondering where Fred was.

It was her day off work, so Fred had worked out with George, Tien, and Verity his own day off so that they could spend some time alone. He'd hinted at taking her out, but Emma never knew what that boy had up his sleeve.

Apparently, it was something that involved him being out of bed before she woke up. She stretched, sighed, and climbed out of bed, pulling on clothes and deciding that if she needed to shower she could do it after breakfast.

Emma walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes, and looking out where Fred was reading a letter.

"Everything all right?" she asked, sitting down at the table, resting her chin on her hands.

"Yeah, Harry's at the Burrow," he said. "Got there in the middle of the night, I guess. Mum wants us to visit at some point, but I figure we'll be at his birthday if nothing else. How are you this morning, love?"

"All right," she said with a shrug. "I was a bit confused when you weren't there when I woke up, but I guess you've been making breakfast?"

"Yeah, I made some fried eggs," he said, tipping a few onto a plate for her. "Are you feeling pretty hungry?"

"Yeah, I would say so," Emma said with a shrug. "How's that Ministry contract coming?"

"Which one?" he asked, tipping a couple more eggs onto her plate before turning to pour her some tea.

"The latest one," she said with a shrug.

The twins had done so well with their company that they were actually getting contracts from the Ministry to make defensive items, like Shield Charm Hats, and other things.

"Good," he said slowly. "I think we'll show them to Harry. He'll like it."

Emma had no doubt that he would. After all, he had not only been their original investor, but he'd been the one who had taught them all of the basic Defensive magic they had needed to get the contract. Not to mention he would be pleased that someone was making sure the Ministry was half-decently protecting themselves, even though there was no Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product that would protect someone completely from a Death Eater.

But every little bit counted, she told herself solidly.

Since she'd been issued some of those very products at work, she had to believe they would work well when needed.

"So, you said we were doing something today?" Emma asked, cutting her eggs carefully so as not to break the yoke.

"Yup," Fred said, popping the 'p' comically.

She smirked up at him.

"Going to tell me what it is?"

"Nope," he replied, in a similar popping fashion.

She giggled.

"At least will you tell me what I should dress like?"

Fred tilted his head as if considering.

"You know that blue dress with the lace?"

"Yeah," Emma said slowly.

"Wear that," he muttered, leaning over the table to kiss her.

Dutifully, Emma finished her eggs and showered quickly, pulling on the blue dress with the black lace trim that Fred had requested, meeting him at the door to the flat.

"You look beautiful," he sighed, kissing her lips tenderly. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," she said, taking his hand in hers. "Lead the way, darling."

Fred turned on his heel and Apparated them to a small village that Emma was fairly certain was near Ottery St. Catchpole.

She didn't mind that, of course. She rather liked the area, how quaint it all felt, how friendly the people had always been.

Emma had been to Ottery St. Catchpole a few times, visiting with the Weasleys and hanging out with the twins on various holidays, but there was something different about walking through a nearby village, not right next to his childhood home, and knowing that they were walking around as husband and wife that made it feel completely different.

"So where are you taking me?" she asked, squeezing his hand excitedly.

Fred grinned.

"Over there," he said, pointing at a friendly-looking little pub.

He led her inside, grinning like a fool still, but Emma couldn't help but notice that it was very nearly empty.

Muggles obviously didn't know what was going on, of course, but they did know that something very not-okay was going on, and apparently they weren't going out as much. She had seen it just from the London streets seeming eerily empty, but for some reason this hit her more forcefully, perhaps because it was an area she had always subconsciously assumed that nothing bad could touch. After all, who would want to hurt a bit of quaint countryside? And the Weasleys were there, with all their jovial wonderfulness. She smiled anyway as Fred ordered them fish and chips and ale.

"Do you think the war's going to get worse?" she asked softly as they waited for their food at a corner table, his hand in hers, his thumb stroking the side of her hand gently.

Fred didn't look at her, probably not wanting her to see the worry she knew was in his eyes as he said, "I think most things get worse before they get better."

She just nodded, watching their food make its way toward them in the hands of a tired, nervous-looking waitress who had to be about their age.

Maybe the girl would be dead within a month.

Maybe she would live for decades with exceptional health.

What Emma really didn't like was looking around and seeing the war and death everywhere she looked. They finished eating quicker than they might have otherwise, both of them a bit uneasy about the tone of the place they'd come to.

As soon as Fred finished his ale Emma whispered, "Can we go home now?"

Fred led her back out and walked her far enough out of the village to Apparate them back to the flat, where Fred kissed her forehead.

"It's going to be all right," Fred assured her. "Nothing's going to happen."

But it didn't sound like he believed the words, either.