Chapter 46: Starting Our Life Together

Hermione Granger lifted her head out of the file set before her to peer into the face of her former romantic rival. Lavender Brown's scars were considerably less pronounced than when the beautiful brunette witch had seen her last, though there still remained baby-pink slashes down much of the right side of the blonde's face and into the soft curve of her neck. Hermione wondered if perhaps there had been some slight reconstructive surgery involved.

Sharing a look with Head Auror Gawain Robards inside this interview room, Hermione diplomatically cleared her throat.

"Now, Lavender, are there any further questions or suggestions you have for me?"

Lavender mutely shook her head. "I think that just about covers it."

Hermione smiled as warmly as possible, flipping the case file and the survey it contained shut. "Well, then I think we're done here."

She hung back and chatted quietly with Lavender upon them and Robards leaving the interview room.

"…. And if you have any further insights you wish to share, please do not hesitate to contact my office. We are hoping to hear from as many lycanthropes as we can, gather as much information as possible; it will only serve to better inform the Merlinment aides in their research as we began to draft legislation…."

Lavender nodded, though her attention appeared to be focused on the glistening engagement ring adorning Hermione's left hand. The mauled girl's smile was wistful, and her lips upturned in such a way that an unfortunate emphasis was placed on the pink slashes along her cheek.

"Congratulations, and many happy returns. When's…. when's the wedding?"

Hermione glanced down at her ring finger absently, giving it a tender smile. "Set for Christmas. It is to be at the Burrow. All of Ron's brothers and sister so far have been married there."

"A marquee tent out in the bitter cold?" Lavender smirked, amused. "That hardly sounds like you…"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, if I had my way, there would be a proper church wedding. But the front garden and the tent should have plenty of Heating Charms conjured up, and besides… when you're simply the next in line to an established trend, there's really no point in fighting it." Her expression softened. "It means a lot to Ron, to marry in the same place and manner that his siblings did. I expect George and Angelina will one day soon go about it the same way, last ones that they'll likely end up being."

Lavender nodded quietly, casting her eyes down to the floor. "That's why you are meant for him, and I wasn't."

Hermione's heart went out to her former roommate and she wrapped her in a hug. "Oh, Lavender…. You'll find someone someday."

"Who?" she warbled morosely. "Who would have me – a horrible, ugly beast?"

"You're the farthest thing from ugly…."

"And yet you somehow managed to say that with a straight face," Lavender quipped dryly. She bowed her head. "I suppose it is just punishment. I was ugly to you, because I knew his heart had always belonged to you, and I was so blinded by jealousy. ….. I'm sorry."

Hermione kissed her forehead. "I forgave you for that some time ago, Lav. And for the record, there were mistakes all around. Ron did his own fair share of messing up…"

"…. only because I led him there!" Lavender insisted.

Hermione snorted. "When a beautiful bird throws themselves at you, it's been my experience that a bloke hardly needs any encouragement." The women shared a twitter of a giggle at this, followed by one last hug.

"Take care of him," Lavender murmured. "He can be a bit of an empty-headed teddy bear, Godric knows, but he's still a sweetie…"

Hermione beamed. "He is, at that. And I will. Now you take care of yourself… and whoever else might come along – for someone will." She winked at her erstwhile rival, then left, sweeping up in the lifts out of the lower levels before passing through the Ministry atrium, emerging into the sunshine of an early spring.

The future Mrs. Weasley Apparated to a quiet street just out of her and Ron's flat complex in Chelmsford. Turning the key in the lock, she squirmed inside, balancing her papers in the crook of her arm as she paused to nuzzle Crookshanks when the cat came to rub against her legs and purr at her feet.

"Ron? Honey? I'm home, love!"

"In the kipper!" his answering call came.

Lips squirming into a tender smile, Hermione clacked her way down the foyer and around the corner into their little kitchen. "Of course you are…"

She found her fiancé seated at their meager table, though to her surprise, there was nary a plate of food or a tin of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans in sight. Ron had several spreadsheets spread open before him on the varnished wood, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Hiya, darling…." Circling the table, Hermione shifted the files she was carrying to free one hand and thus better grip his chin, tilting his face out of the work he had brought home and pulling him into a deep kiss. They broke apart softly, and the budding lawyer at last deposited her manila folders on the opposite side of the table, huffing out a breath at the freedom of weight from her arms. "Have a good day?"

Ron nodded absently, face buried back into his work. He was studying his papers with a focus that, Hermione had to admit, she hadn't detected from him when he had been in the Auror Corps: the Ron who had been a law enforcement wizard would never have brought work home with him. In that office, he had maintained a strict demarcation between work and home life. Now that he was serving under George at the joke shop, Hermione found him more studious in his drive.

"The first quarter financials are coming due…." Ron mumbled, almost half to himself, turning a page in the spreadsheet absently. "I want to make sure we're still in the black with our exports…."

"Need any help?" Hermione placed her elbows on the table as she leaned forward: a habit that she probably never would have picked up had she not been involved with this man.

He shook his head. "Nah, thanks anyway, love."

She watched him for a moment, with a soft smile. "You seem happy…" she crooned.

That got his attention, enough to lift his face out of quarterly projections. "As opposed to what?"

"Nothing," Hermione pursed her lips. "It's just you never would have been jumping up and down to bring Auror case files home from the office…" She reached out a hand to stroke his arm, keeping his attention. "I saw Lavender today…"

"Bloody hell!" he gaped. She almost performed her perfunctory chastisement at his language, then gave it up. "How is she?"

"…. Down." Hermione finally decided on the best description.

Across from her, Ron winced. "She's not…. suicidal, is she?"

"No, no, nothing like that; Robards and I summoned her in to conduct her interview. For recommendations on how best to address lycanthrope reform."

"Good Godric! You and Gawain are just starting on that now?" Ron shook his head. "He and I finished those anonymous surveys to overhaul our Were – Lycanthrope Containment policies more than a year ago! Hell, nearly two! Was it two?" He frowned, appalled with himself that he could be this young and yet losing his memory.

Hermione nodded. "We used those surveys as a baseline, actually. The next step is now encouraging Lavender and others to come forward and give their opinions on the record. It will only better inform us, and the Merlinment." She said this, even as she knew that final lycanthrope reform could still be many months, if not years, away. House elf emancipation had taken more than a year to accomplish; bloodline anti-discrimination, nearly a year and a half. Both of these had been centered around fairly straightforward issues, despite the hiccups seen in passage of the former regarding a voluntary surrender program of house elf assets. There would be no such streamlining in crafting policy to help the werewolves – opinions on the matter were partisan and contentious, and opponents would seek to drag their feet and delay the motion as long as possible.

Ron must have been pondering along similar lines, for he started to float: "When do you think…?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's impossible to say, really. Although I can be fairly certain that it might not even be completed by the end of Kingsley's final term, should he win reelection this fall."

Ron nodded grimly. Meeting the eyes of his future wife, he stretched across the table to give her a feather-light peck on the lips.

"You'll get there, sweetheart. If there's anyone who has never been known to give up, it's you."

She smiled sweetly at him. "Hey….. can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure. Let me just…. clear away…." Her fiancé's version of clearing away constituted an act of sweeping all of the spreadsheets off the table and onto the floor. At Hermione's pointed look, Ron grinned endearingly. "I'll sort it in a minute. Promise."

"Hmm. Just be sure you're quick about it, before Crookshanks decides to use your…" she twisted her head to look. "…. Quarterly Projections on Imports as a litter box."

"I'm all yours, love."

Hermione smiled. "And all ears, I hope."

"Course! I still have both of mine, which is one more than George has."

She chuckled, reaching her hands across to lace her fingers through his. "I've been thinking….. we've been in this flat for what, it'll be going on three years now?"

She could see the gears turning in her lover's head as he thought back. "At just about the time of Harry's birthday, yes. Actually, a little bit before, I should say."

Hermione smiled wanly. "I reckon it's high time we think about buying a house."

Ron's blue eyes widened. "Really? But do…. do you reckon we're ready? What if we have to take out a loan?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think that will be necessary. I've talked to Mum and Dad, and they've agreed to front some of the cost." (She observed Ron deflate with relief at this. Here was one of the things she loved most about him: despite the fact that he had never projected any unhappiness or resentment at growing up poor, the awareness of doing without had nonetheless always been there, such that her future husband could display quite a practical frugality without seeming cheap). Hermione squeezed his hands. "But I want to know what you think."

Ron thought about it for a moment. "I reckon I'd be fine with it. This flat has been a nice little place for us to test living together, find our feet. But I think, after the wedding, we'll want to make a clear marker, for the fresh start."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Especially if we anticipate trying to…. to get pregnant. Have children right away." She lifted his palm between them and kissed his knuckles, even as her brown eyes held his of brilliant blue. "That's what we've talked about. What we want, isn't it? To try for a baby right away."

"Only if you're sure a little one wouldn't interrupt your practice for too long."

Hermione waved his concern, though it was sweet. "If anyone is capable of having it all, Ronald, it's me. Victoire ought to have at least a little cousin to play with, to say nothing of Teddy – especially if a sibling for the little French miss isn't yet in the cards. We're pretty sure Audrey and Percy won't pop one out yet, and Ginny definitely won't – not with her playing career!" She studied Ron solemnly. "So we are in agreement: we want to have kids?"

Beaming, Ron rose, circled the table to draw her close and kiss her. "Yes. And only with you."

"Good," Hermione grinned. "Because I have something to show you."

She took his hand and led him out of the apartment.

"My spreadsheets….!"

"Crookshanks: stay. No going to the loo on Daddy's papers!" Hermione ordered the damn cat, as she and Ron slipped out of their flat.

Hermione brought Ron along by way of Side-Along Apparation to a quaint wizarding village. Casting his gaze about to take in their surroundings, Ron's eyes widened.

"Hang on…. this is Ottery St. Catchpole!"

His bride lifted a brow in surprise, impressed. "Jolly excellent guess. How did you…?"

Ron flushed. "I heard someone mention some time back that this neighborhood has very nice homes."

"Really? Who?"

He oddly flushed. "Oh, just a friend of Harry's we met one day while we were still working on the Godric's Hollow house." When Hermione's expression didn't change, he winced. "Daphne Greengrass."

"That Slytherin bird who got off?" At Ron's nod, Hermione opened her mouth to say something, stopped, then shook her head. "Never mind. Come on." She tugged him by the wrist over to the far side of the street, moving up the walk for about a block until they came to pause in front of a quaint little bungalow that was marked up For Sale. She observed Ron's reaction carefully, hopeful.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Hermione bubbled. "Of course, I wanted to check with you to see how you felt about it before making an offer, but…"

"I love it," Ron breathed. He glanced down to beam at her. "Call the realtor. Like, five minutes ago."

Hermione twittered out an amused laugh. "Really? Without having a look around inside first?"

"My dear 'Mione: when a bloke is lucky enough to have you as his best girl, I can afford to make decisions like this sight-unseen."

Hermione breathed in deeply, expression dazzled and thrilled. "OK, then. I'll contact the realtor and ask her to draw up the papers."

Winding his arms about her waist, Ron pulled her close. "I bloody love you, Hermione Jean Granger."

She beamed. "And I love you, Ronald Bilius Weasley – all the more so because I'll be sharing your name before long."

Smiling, Ron dipped his head to kiss her, and they embraced and kissed.