Ron had made his promise two days ago, and so far, things had gone smoothly. Hermione and he had found a bit more time to be together, and in those small hours, they mostly kissed and talked about small things. His mother was no longer hovering over them, so he could finally enjoy being together with his perfect girlfriend. He noticed that little had changed between them. He had half expected, no: dreaded, that they would somehow act differently around each other. He had seen it before around others. Dean had acted differently when he was with Ginny. She had hated that, and it had driven them apart. Lavender had been just a regular girl in his school, talking to him normally until he had kissed her. Then, she had suddenly developed an infuriating squeaky voice when addressing him. Hermione had not changed. She still rode him hard whenever she felt he was wrong about something. She still talked to him with her regular voice, and about things they always talked about.

That, however, was a bit of a problem. They had been focussed so intently on Voldemort and the Horcruxes the past year that they had hardly talked about anything else. Sure, they had discussed about little things like quidditch and school, but for the most part, their conversations had mostly been about the war. Ron found himself searching for subjects to talk about whenever he was with her, and though conversation was never strained, and moments of silence had never been awkward, he really wanted to broaden the range of subjects.

Hermione and he were laying in the grass arms spread out, the sun blanketing them with its warm rays. Twice now, had Ron tried to talk about Australia, and Hermione's parents, but the words wouldn't come out. He was afraid that she would start crying. He wanted to show her he was interested and invested in what would certainly be a long and difficult search. Hermione had told him she had not been able to plant a more specific destination in their minds. Australia was enormous considering they didn't even know what city to look for.

'Hermione,' he said, steeling his resolve, 'I – err – I wanted to talk to you about something.'

'About what?'

'Our plans for Australia.'

Hermione stiffened. He could hear her breath catch. She didn't reply immediately, but seemed to be thinking. Ron hoped she would not cry. He would help her find their parents. He had already visited the town in order to find some books about Australia. He had also asked around at the library. Hermione turned to him.

'What would you like to talk about?' she asked.

'I think we should start planning,' he said, 'If you're ready of course.'

He had spent quite some time thinking about the trip already. There were a number of ways they could go about travelling there, and he had also been thinking about how to look up her parents.

'I'm ready, Ron,' she said, 'I would have left yesterday if I wasn't still so weakened.'

'Good,' Ron said, seeing Hermione smile in reaction, 'Travelling intercontinentally is a bit of a bother actually, but we have a few options.'

'Firstly, we can always use a number of portkeys. I think I remember my dad telling me the ministry did this for the quidditch world cup a couple of years back. Their range is limited though, so you would have to get into contact with about four or five other countries to arrange it. If all the other countries are as disorganised as ours is at the moment, then you can expect a permit sometime around next Christmas. Also, portkeys are nauseating, and just the thought of having to do that five times for the maximum range is already making me taste my breakfast again.'

'Then there's apparation,' he said, ticking his fingers as he enumerated, 'Which I am not licenced for. I believe the ministry could grant me a permit in a one or two weeks, provided I pass the test, but apparation has an even more limited range than portkeys.'

'Yes, I've read about that in the apparation folder when we were at Hogwarts, but it didn't explain it. Why is that?' Hermione asked.

'My mum explained it once,' he said, 'I think she said that the time to travel increases exponentially with distance, or something. Not sure what it means though.'

Hermione nodded. 'I understand. Think of it like this: You take out a chessboard and put a grain of wheat on the first square. On the next square, you put double that amount, so it holds two grains of wheat. You repeat that for each square, so the third holds?'

'Four grains,' Ron answered, 'And the next holds eight. Snape told us something like this during potions.'

'Right!' Hermione said, a tone of pride in her voice, 'So you were paying attention after all.'

'If you keep doing this,' she continued, ignoring his pointed look, 'How many grains of wheat do you need for the last square?'

'I dunno,' Ron said. 'Couple thousand I guess.'

'That is square eleven.'

'A million?'

'That should be around square twenty,' Hermione replied.

'I don't know,' Ron said, knowing it would probably be something huge, 'Tell me.'

'More grains of wheat than you could fit in England if you would blanket the entire country in layer over thirty foot high.'

'Okay,' Ron said, imagining him sitting on top of that with Hermione, 'That's a lot.'

She smiled. Ron was glad she did, because the next items on the list were a lot less attractive.

'So apparation is out,' he said, 'Unless you want to apparate to fifty or sixty places we've never been before, including the middle of an ocean.'

'A third option would be taking a transportal,' he said, 'which actually is a very good idea, if it was a bit more dependable. They tend to break down though, and I've called the ministry this morning to ask about theirs; and its broken.'

'What's a transportal?' Hermione asked. Ron kept forgetting that she, like Harry, was born in the muggle world. She had learned a lot from reading books, but some things you just can't find out about in books.

'There's one in the Department of Mystification,' Ron said, 'Though we never visited that room. It is a horizontal stone circle that can be rotated. If you point it in the direction of another one, and that one is pointed in your direction, than you can jump into one, and emerge from the other.'

'The tricky bit is getting them both to align perfectly. If you are half a degree off, it just won't work. We had one pointed west towards the United States for quite some time, but when Voldemort murdered the minister, one of the unspeakables pushed it off in a different direction. There's only a handful of people all over the world that can fix it.'

'Okay,' Hermione said, 'What are our other options?'

'We could fly,' he said, 'Though that would take ages. I'm sure we could arrange for a small carriage pulled by two palegrino's or thestrals. They would have to graze and sleep though, so don't expect to be there before the end of the month. And then there is one last option, short of walking the distance.'

'An airplane,' Hermione said, stating it as a fact.

'Yup. We could buy a ticket via the ministry. Department of Magical Transportation.'

'How long would the trip be?'

'Taking a stopover in account at a place called Kuala Lumpur, we would probably be busy for twenty-four hours. We could fly to Darwin, and start searching there.'

'Looks like that is our only real option,' Hermione said, 'Considering every other option is either unpleasant or unavailable.'

'Yeah, I figured you'd go for the airplane. I've already made a reservation for us for next week. Kingsley is checking to see if he can get the ministry to pay for the tickets.'

'You already arranged it?' Hermione said in delight, 'That is so thoughtful of you, Ron.'

She reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a bit of a squeeze. He returned it eagerly. Ron had found out quite recently that Hermione liked to do this. Sometimes, in conversations with others, she would take his hand and squeeze it, even if she was looking at somebody else. It was her way of letting him know she agreed with him, or to get him to pay attention to something important. He loved it; loved every sort of physical contact between them.

'I've also been thinking about how to find them. I figured you gave them names that would be unique?'

'Yes,' Hermione said, 'I looked up the names of dentists living in Australia. They should be the only Wilkins's there.'

'I was thinking we might be able to check the city hall of each city and ask around there. I'm sure they have some listing of people living in their city. It will take a while to visit all of those cities though. I've gotten some books about Australia from the library in Ottery St. Catchpole. There's like a thousand cities there.'

Hermione turned to face him. 'There is a faster way. If I know my father a little bit, I'm sure we can look him up there. We will have to visit the library again though.'

'You want to go there now?'

'No,' she said, slipping closer to him until she was practically laying on top of him, 'Right now, I want you to tell me what miracle happened to get you into a library on your own…'

She kissed his cheek, and a warm glow flushed over it. Another kiss was placed next to the previous, and another after that. She kissed his neck, obviously enjoying his reaction to it. Taking his earlobe into her mouth, she sucked on it while smelling his hair. Her foot had hooked around his leg and she pushed herself close to him. 'Your hair smells nice,' she murmured.

Ron turned his head to hers and kissed her lips. They were soft and inviting. His tongue poked out quickly, wanting more. She eagerly accepted, opening her mouth enough to allow him to enter it with his tongue. It was lovely, Ron thought, as they lay there, in the blissful afternoon sun, kissing like two regular people. Gone was the gravity of their mission. Gone was the awkwardness of their insecurity. Gone was the doubt about each other's feelings. They were there, in the dry grass; together, warm, happy, and recovering.

Their kiss was dynamic. At first gentle and unsure, it soon turned into a more heated snog, until that made way again for a casual sort of French kissing Ron could imagine him doing all day long. Hermione's hands were in his neck and on his back. Every once in a while, she would make a sound somewhere between a moan and a grunt, and Ron would feel mightily impressed with himself. He turned to her fuller, deepening the kiss again, until he was on top of her. His arms on either side of her, she seemed not in the slightest bit uncomfortable with a large part of his weight on her. Quite the contrary; she was kissing him more furiously than ever, and he felt her arms roving over his back.

Twenty highly eventful minutes later, they got up from where they had been kissing to head for the village. It would take them about fifteen minutes to walk to the edge of the little village, and five more to reach the library. They walked at a leisurely pace, content with stretching out this wonderful day as long as they could. Ron took out his wand for a bit of practice. He pointed it to a poppy, and cast the Gemini charm. Seven more appeared around it. He picked them, using his wand to remove some of the leaves. When he was content with them, he presented them to Hermione.

'Oh Ron,' she said, 'These are lovely. Thank you!'

Hermione also took out her wand. She rummaged through a couple of pebbles, then selected one that seemingly felt right to her. It was a flat, round stone that fit nicely into her hand. She directed her wand, and wordlessly cast a spell Ron couldn't remember having learned about at Hogwarts. He felt another set of emotions as she did, and it felt alien like the last time they had been using their wands.

'Hermione,' he asked, 'How are you feeling?'

'Happy,' she said.

'Any other feelings?'

She looked at him shyly, 'Well, I feel a little excited about going to the library with you. And about finding my parents. Hopeful too.'

'Is that all you're feeling?' he asked, his suspicions mostly affirmed, 'Or are you feeling something else too?'

Hermione looked away and he saw her fidgeting with her nails. It was a nervous habit of hers he had never noticed before now. She didn't seem to answer, and Ron thought she might not want to, when she suddenly said in the smallest of voices: 'I'm feeling a bit– excited too. From kissing. A little riled up still, I guess'

'I thought you might,' he said, 'and maybe just a little bit frustrated that it had just been kissing, and nothing more?'

Hermione stopped walking and looked at him with enormous eyes. The colour drained from her face, the pebble and her wand forgotten. She recovered a little, but seemingly realized just then what he had said. The colour quickly returned to her face in full force.

'I – I – How did you know?'

'I don't think our wands make us feel our own, subconscious emotions,' Ron said, 'I think it makes us feel each other's emotions.'

'You mean you felt my – my – you know?'

Ron smiled sheepishly. Yes, he had experienced all of the emotions she had told him she had felt as she charmed the pebble. Happiness from being given flowers, joy with the weather, the hope of finding her parents well and happy in Australia, and excitation with what he now knew she thought of as a date. Those were emotions he could clearly make out. They had felt logical, well-defined and clear. But there had been another emotion. Her excitation and frustration after their kissing was different from the others. Not clearly defined or logical, this was a more primal, cardinal thing that burned not in her mind, but in her heart.

'Did you feel it with me?' he asked, hoping it would make her feel less awkward, 'When I made the copies of the flower?'

'I felt something,' she said, 'but those alien feelings are so different from what I normally feel. I think I felt your anticipation. I think you were hoping I'd like the flowers.'

'Go on,' he said, as they resumed walking.

'You are also feeling a bit protective. You want to take care of me.'

Now it was Ron's turn to feel ashamed. Having someone tell you what you are feeling was rather indecent.

'There was something else,' Hermione said, 'But I can't put my finger on it. I think it might be something like pride.'

Ron's ears were prickling. He was sure his face had flushed beet-red. Ron had indeed felt proud. Proud of his girlfriend. Proud of still being able to explain things to Hermione, even though she was so much smarter than him. Proud of being able to make her produce those half-moan-half-grunt noises. He was about to make a non-committal sound in an attempt to hide that fact from her, when they heard a car door slam a little while ahead. They were approaching the edge of the town.

Hermione pressed the stone into his hands. It was just a simple round stone, but she had neatly carved a G on one side, and an R on the other. He loved it. Putting it in his pants pocket, Ron pulled her close and kissed her.

'I'll carry it with me wherever I go,' he said, 'I love you.'

'I love you too, Ron,' Hermione said. They had said these words before; in the Great Hall, right after Voldemort had been defeated, back at the Burrow, whenever they had to part to go to sleep, and in moments like these. It still sounded marvellous to hear her say it.

Hermione had never visited the little library of Ottery St. Catchpole before, and though the building was not much to look at, and the books were not quite as qualitative as one might hope for, it was still a library. Ron wandered about a little before heading off to the travel section. Hermione stopped him, and walked to a counter instead. A plump muggle sat behind a computer there.

'Hello, madam,' Hermione said courteously, 'Do you have an internet connection here?'

'Why yes, dear,' the woman said, 'We were recently hooked up. It's a DSL modem, and it costs three pounds to use for every hour.'

'We would like to use it for an hour, I think,' she said, taking some muggle money from her purse. The lady at the counter returned her some other coins, then gave her a bit of paper holding a password.

'If you need any help, let me know,' she said.

'We're looking for a dental practice in Australia,' she said, 'Do you know how we might find it?'

'Try searching on Yahoo. They usually turn up some good results. You can also use a newer search engine called Google.'

Ron couldn't make heads or tails from their little exchange, both the money and the discussion about searching. He wisely kept his mouth shut, knowing Hermione would probably explain it a little to him. Ron knew next to nothing about muggles and their inventions, and an explanation frequently led him to splitting migraines.

Hermione had set off, and Ron followed suit. She sat down on a chair in front of a computer, that much was clear to Ron. She pressed a bunch of buttons, and the machine sprang to life. After some more clicking and button-pressing, Hermione turned to face him.

'Muggles can't summon water,' she said in less than a whisper, 'You know that, right?'

'Yes?' Ron said, unsure what that had to do with anything.

'So they have these pipes running under the ground to every house, supplying them of drinkable water. Those pipes come from distribution stations which forms a network of pipes all across the country, yes?'

'Yes.'

'This computer is connected to a wire that also runs underground. It is connected to a distribution station, which is connected to other distribution stations. It's a network of wires. But these wires don't stop at the border. These wires are connected all over the world.'

'The muggles have put cables into the ground all over the world?'

'Yes,' Hermione said, 'And if I send a message out with this computer, I can get a response from a computer across the globe. They call it the internet. In the past, it was only used by the military and universities and such, but for a while now, ordinary muggles have started using it.'

'So what sort of messages can you send?'

'I'll show you.' She started typing something in a narrow bar at the top of the screen. 'I'm using the computer to look up a page that I can use to search the internet with. Here,' she said, pressing a button and causing the machine to do something. A timeturner was displayed, and in a corner, Ron saw a globe spinning. The back of the globe held the letter E. A few seconds later, letters started appearing on screen.

'Yahoo?'

'It's the name of the search engine,' she said, 'Let's just search for "dentist Wilkins Australia"'. She typed it in. The machine returned a list of results, and Hermione quickly glanced over them.

Their hour was nearly over. Ron had been asking questions at first, but seeing as how they had not found anything yet, he had stopped asking them, knowing it would cut their precious time even shorter if she had to keep answering them. Hermione seemed a bit deflated. She had switched over from using Yahoo to Google, but had not found anything yet. Suddenly, she jerked up. Ron, who had participated in the search, but had quickly realized that he was woefully unequipped to browse the internet, peered intently on the screen.

Hermione had found a website called "www dot dentalclinichermione dot com", and was staring at it intently.

'How did you find this?' he asked, as he skimmed the page. It was a practice in a town called Brisbane. If his memory served him well, he thought it was on the east coast of Australia. The page had a black background, with white letters. It described the location of a dental clinic in a residential area on the outskirts of the town. There was only one picture on the website, and it showed the entrance of the clinic, which had a white front with a glass sliding door. Sadly, there were no pictures of employees. Hermione checked the contact page, but did not find a reference to the dentist's name.

She wrote down the address of the clinic, and its telephone number. Then, she rolled her chair back a little.

'I think this is it,' she said softly, obviously shaken. Her eyes were fixed unflinchingly at the screen of the browser. She was nervously fingering the piece of paper that held the information about the clinic, and Ron could see her hands tremble slightly.

'It would be a bit of a coincidence for another dental clinic to be opened in Australia with your name on it,' he reasoned. 'Look here,' he said, as he pointed at the screen, 'It says the clinic opened late last year.'

'Oh Ron,' Hermione said, and with that, she crashed into his arms. She was crying, but no sound escaped. Her breathing was uneven, and her body shook with silent sobs. Ron could only imagine Hermione's relief. She had gone through a year of war and uncertainty, and now held a first bit of proof that her parents might just be okay. It must have felt like a heavy weight had dropped from her shoulders.

She sat like that for just a minute, then composed herself. Quickly turning away from him, she furiously wiped her cheeks and nose. Ron wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

'I think we found them, 'Mione,' he whispered into her ear, 'I think they're safe!'

The trip back to the Burrow had been an elated one. Hermione's grin looked like it was permanently engraved on her face, and she had not just held his hand (as was her custom), but had pulled him into a tight embrace. The sun still stood high in the sky, and she was clearly enjoying its heat. Twice had she stopped to pull his face down to hers, and kiss him fiercely. One of those times had been in the middle of the street, and they had received a wolf whistle from a group of men enjoying a beer on the terrace of a pub. Ron had felt ashamed, but Hermione would not let him go, and after a while, he had stopped caring what people might think.

Ron could feel them enter the circumference of the protective wards and enchantments that were placed on the Burrow. He took out his wand, and added another one, which he just realized they had used every day the past year, but which his parent's had not used. It settled over the rest of the enchantments firmly.

'That was a powerful spell,' Hermione said, 'I could feel it's effects as it fit into place. You've grown so much this past year.'

'Surely you could outdo me,' he said, 'The cleverest witch of your age?'

'He said that a long time ago, Ron,' Hermione said as she pulled out her wand, 'A long time ago.'

'Still true,' Ron said, as Hermione made a couple of complicated wand movements. Her spell was powerful too, so much so that he assumed that the other inhabitants of the Burrow must have felt it. It was a protective charm that, from what he could deduce, something against muggles. An overwhelming feeling of euphoria washed over him.

'I can't explain how glad I am that you are feeling so happy,' Ron said, after realizing he had felt her emotions again when she had performed her spell, 'I don't know if I've ever felt something that strong before.'

Hermione pecked him on the cheek. She had to stand on the tips of her toes to do so.

'You say the most beautiful things sometimes, Ronald.'

And with that, she ran inside, off to tell Harry her good news.