I'm not a big one for long A/Ns but I just wanted to say hi to the 50 people who are now following this story. That's twice as many as I've ever had before so thank you.

Thanks to kabg01 for beta-ing for me

Over a month had passed since they had signed the papers and seen that beautiful spell bind their hands together and it was already feeling unreal, like something Hermione had dreamed. Other than the one time in Diagon Alley, she hadn't to spoken Ron or even as much as seen him since. Life seemed to carry on almost exactly as before. For her at least. She often thought guiltily about the muggle born witches – some of whom were her friends and colleagues, who hadn't had a secret connection to the Minister for Magic and weren't able to arrange an eleventh hour betrothal of convenience. Amy Jones, a pretty Welsh Hufflepuff from Ginny's year, who Hermione often sat and ate lunch with in the Ministry's canteen, had been one of the first to be matched. Her betrothed was one Julius Avery - Hermione vaguely remembered the towering, dark haired Slytherin who had been in the fourth year when she had started Hogwarts. The name was familiar, of course. His father was a death eater. At least he was safely locked away in Azkaban, which was now under goblin control. A few, like Rodolphus Lestrange and his brother, had slipped through the net, gone to ground. All covered up by the ministry of course – they were all presumed dead. The Malfoys had escaped prison by the skin of their teeth after it was proved they did not have their wands for most of the second war and they gave enough information on their former allies to see many of them put away for life. At first Amy had cried about how unfair her match was but now she seemed sadly resigned to her,

"He leaves me pretty much alone. I don't even know why he applied for a match, he certainly doesn't seem bothered by me. Maybe I'm not his type. Whatever the reason I'm glad – hopefully we will be able to live separate lives," Hermione nodded sympathetically but said nothing, uneasily remembering the parts of the law that touched on the subject of repopulation, although they had been very unclear.

Hermione, predictably, had spent the entirety of her spare time researching the marriage law – reading up on the precedent for it, trying to gauge public opinion for it, researching the way that laws were overturned. She had even gone to Mafalda Hopkirk herself and expressed an interest in working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement so as to better fight the law from the inside. The older witch had thanked her for her interest and told her she would bear her in mind. Speaking to Mafalda always made Hermione nervous. She was never totally sure that the woman had forgiven her for borrowing her identity. It wasn't thought of as particularly good form in the wizarding world to polyjuice someone. Even so, Hermione had managed enough of a chat with her to work out that Mafalda herself was unhappy with a lot of aspects of the marriage law. She had told the younger woman that although she agreed with the principle - that the wizarding population needed protecting, and most of all believed that the diluting of pure bloodlines would drastically reduce the risk of further wizarding wars - she didn't feel comfortable taking away the free will of so many young witches.

"It's for the greater good, is it?" Hermione had asked, only partially managing to keep the bitter edge from her voice. Mafalda had just glanced sadly up at the photograph on her wall, of a younger version of herself arm in arm with Amelia Bones.

"Hermione, it wasn't my idea, and I can't pretend that it's perfect but if it stops any more bloodshed, then…well…maybe the greater good isn't such a terrible thing. And it was voted in by the Wizengamot,"

"Only by a slim margin," Hermione interrupted. In her opinion 52 votes in favour of the law compared to 48 against wasn't enough to ruin the lives of dozens of young women.

Mafalda just explained, like Kingsley had, that the Ministry was a democracy not a dictatorship. Hermione listened politely before reminding the department Head of her desire to move into magical law enforcement and excusing herself. Once back in her own office she wrote down a question at the top of her extensive notes on the marriage law: Not the idea of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement – who is behind this? Hazeldene? Or someone else in DMLE?

She tapped the point of her quill absently against her lip, running over the people she knew of who worked in magical law enforcement, wondering who was the mastermind. Of course, Harry might be able to help her, as the auror department worked closely with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

As if she had summoned him out of thin air, Harry popped his head around the door. His hair was still the unruly mess he had long since given up the fight of taming but now a few grey hairs were threaded through the black. He took a double take at Hermione, grimacing slightly,

"You've got something…" he waved vaguely in the direction of her face.

"What? Oh – terego," the ink that she had accidentally splashed onto her face transferred itself back into her quill, "thanks Harry,"

"No problem," he grinned, before noticing the papers piled up around her, "up against it?"

"I'm still trying to get to the bottom of this marriage law. I tell you Harry, something's not right!"

"I believe you," he reassured her, "But a witch can't live on ink alone. Got time for lunch at the Leaky? I really fancy a plate of their bangers and mash,"

"Washed down with treacle tart?" Hermione guessed. Harry just shrugged unapologetically, "they do make the best treacle tart outside of Hogwarts,"

"Well we'd best go then," Hermione laughed as she folded some papers into her bag and stabbed her quill into the bun she had in her hair, "I can ask you some questions while we're there,"

"Am I going to regret this?"

"Well you know the saying, there's no such thing as a free lunch" Hermione smiled, as they made their way to the floos.

However, it had turned out Harry had his own reasons for speaking to Hermione that pushed her questions out of her head. Barely had they placed their orders with Hannah Abbott, who was working behind the bar now, when he cleared his throat a couple of times. Hermione, who had long since recognised that as a sign that he wanted to say something, just regarded him over the gillywater she had grown partial to, and waited for him to spit it out.

"It's the anniversary next week. A big one, five years since the battle,"

Hermione's mind ran ahead. She suspected that she knew where this was going but she wasn't sure until Harry pulled a gold decorated parchment from his robes and slid it over the table to her. She recognised the Hogwarts crest at the top of the page

"Dear Harry,

I would be honoured if you could join us at Hogwarts on May the Second so that we can together remember the day that changed the world forever and unveil the memorial statue that has been erected in the grounds. I will be extending this invitation to both Mr Weasley and Miss Granger also, providing they are amenable to the other attending.

With all my very best wishes

Headmistress McGonagall"

"So we're only invited if we behave?" Hermione huffed.

"It's not like that. Professor McGonagall is in the order, she knows what's happened. She would have asked me anyway and we'd have all had a secret discussion behind you and Ron's back about who should go -"

"I know, I know," Hermione sighed, "She would be putting us in a difficult situation if we go and can't be civil to each other at such a public event,"

"You'd need to be more than civil, you're supposed to be betrothed," Harry reminded her.

"We are betrothed! The Prophet hasn't let me forget it," The newspaper had reported keenly the story of hers and Ron's betrothal and had been speculating wildly on their relationship and the fact that they were never seen out in public.

"Well maybe, a big public event, the two of you seen together – a show of solidarity - might shut them up for a bit,"

She was about to disagree but their meals arrived and Harry fell upon his as he always did with food - like someone was going to snatch it away if he wasn't quick enough. They ate in companiable silence as she thought on the idea. The journalists following her around were a pain but more than that, they risked uncovering their betrothal as a sham. There was no mention in the law about what would happen in that instance but Hermione doubted that the Ministry would congratulate her on her ingenuity and allow her to be on her way. The memorial would be the perfect place to put the rumours to rest. Plus she would like to go the Memorial event – not only to remember her friends but because it seemed disrespectful not to. But could she spend even an hour or two in Ron's company without going for him? The fact that he had saved her from having to marry Goyle or similar had softened her anger towards him but only very slightly. Most of the event would be speeches and similar so at least they wouldn't have to talk much but even the idea of being in his company was causing her to hack at her fish and chips with alarming viciousness. And besides, Ron wouldn't stand for it. She had heard what he had said - "no couple stuff".

Harry watched in amusement as Hermione snorted to herself and shook her head,

"He's said yes. He wants you to go together," he said softly, correctly guessing the direction of her thoughts.

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing! Honestly!"

Hermione wanted to stamp her feet and cry. What was Ron playing at, saying yes? He had said no couple stuff! She was fine with that. She felt safe with that. She was supposed to be the mature rational one, not him. Now she either had to go along with it or she would look like a stubborn idiot.

"Hermione, the rumours are affecting him too. There was a two page spread last week about the fact that he's gay and you're helping him cover it up,"

"I know," Hermione smirked, a habit that she had picked up from Draco. She had enjoyed reading that one. Harry looked slightly shifty, as though that wasn't the full story, "What else?" she snapped.

"Well, Ginny did promise him a front row ticket to every Chudley Cannons game next season,"

"Do I get one too?" Hermione was tempted to demand one so she could gift it to Draco who she now knew to be a closet Cannons fan and make the two enemies sit next to each other all season, "Or do I get something else…help with my research perhaps?" she guessed, and was pleased to see Harry look embarrassed. She had guessed correctly.

"Hermione, they're putting up a statue of us. Dennis Creevey is going to be speaking. Teddy will be there, hearing what happened to his parents. Mr and Mrs Diggory. I've got to give a bloody speech for Merlin's sake. Don't make me face it on my own,"

"Alright, alright," she put her hands up, not wanting to hear any more, "but if we start fighting in the middle of the minute's silence, remember this was your idea,"

oOoOoOo

Rows and rows of chairs were laid out on the grass in by the lake. It reminded Hermione of Dumbledore's funeral and her eyes were drawn inexorably to the marble tomb. It was still as bright white as the day it was put in place, the damage done by Riddle mended flawlessly. The golden lectern from the Great Hall was in front of it, the eagle's wings glinting in the sunlight. It was a beautiful day, like so many beautiful days they had spent wandering the grounds or sitting in the shade of the beech tree by the water's edge.

She, Harry and Ginny had arrived early and after exchanging a few words with Headmistress McGonagall, had taken their seats in the front row so Harry could avoid being swamped by people who wanted to talk to him. Hermione couldn't help taking another glance at the empty place next to her.

"He'll be here," Harry whispered, although his eyes belied the confidence of his tone.

Hermione could see McGonagall looking over anxiously, as though she wanted to start. Hermione gave her a resigned nod. As the headmistress approached the lectern, Ron slid into the seat beside her.

"Cutting it fine aren't you?" Hermione whispered out of the side of her mouth.

"I'm here aren't I?" He whispered back, His were eyes trained to the front as Hermione risked a sidelong glance at him. He was wearing the strange mix of not quite muggle not quite wizard clothing that suited him so well – jeans and a faded cotton shirt thin with wear, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, with a richly patterned waistcoat over the top. The dragon hide boots he had been so keen to protect at their betrothal finished the look. His hands and sinewy forearms were covered in callouses and scorch marks. Next to him, in her dove grey dress robes and sensible heels, her hair pinned back sternly, she felt prim and buttoned up.

"Well don't do me any favours," she snipped. Ron turned to look at her, his brow furrowed in confusion, so she elaborated, enunciating as clearly as she could through narrowed lips "You're the one who wanted to come,"

"What? Harry said….?"

"Harry said what?" She demanded, starting to forget the need to whisper as realisation started crashing down upon her.

"So you didn't tell him you wanted me to come?" he hissed.

"About as much as you told him you wanted me to come, I suspect,"

In unison they turned to look down the line at Harry who was grinning apologetically, "it was Ginny's idea," he mouthed, pointing at her. For her part, she didn't look a bit sorry and gestured that they should hold hands, then acted out a camera clicking.

Any chance the argument had to escalate was stopped by Professor McGonagall clearing her throat, the magically enhanced sound echoing over the crowd. Hermione had to stifle a gasp as Ron reached over and took her hand. She looked up at him but he just nodded over at a camera that had been charmed to fly and was zooming around surreptitiously, snapping photos of the crowd.

She tried to be angry but as the speeches went on and more people spoke of their experiences of the war, she was glad of having him there. In fact, by the time Dennis Creevey – looking so much like his brother – had finished talking and invited them all to join him in a minute's silence for the war dead, she had to rest her head against his shoulder to stop herself from crying freely. Ron stiffened at first but she soon felt him relax. Harry patted her knee comfortingly and she grabbed his hand with her free one.

Finally Professor McGonagall returned to the stage,

"Thank you all, now please welcome Mr Harry Potter to the stage,"

Everyone started clapping. This was, after all, the main event – a rare public speech from the boy who lived but doesn't like to talk about it. Harry swallowed visibly before standing and addressing the crowd,

"Thank you, I'm honoured to be speaking to you on such a momentous occasion. I know that I'm supposed to talk to you about what I did in the war but I reckon you're all sick of hearing about that," a small laugh rippled across the crowd, "what I mainly want to do is to remember the sacrifices that so many made to ensure that darkness was banished from these walls, and the wider wizarding word.

I look across a crowd like this and see so many friends. My family. People I grew up with. People who I look up to. Those who I know offered to follow me into certain death. I see heroes. And yet I can't help but notice the spaces. So many gave up their lives for what they knew to be the right thing. Young or old, married, single, parents, children, wizard or elf. What unites them all is that they were good. And brave, selfless and united in their determination to serve the cause.

None of them asked for the war, or loved fighting, or wanted glory. They were just ordinary people, our brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, daughters and sons, who like so many of you here today, simply answered our world's call to duty.

No number of Orders of Merlin, or awards for service to the school, or statues can replace the hole left behind by our fallen friends but today I want to unveil a memorial to the Fallen Fifty in the hope that their faces will be remembered by Hogwarts students in years to come,"

With a flick of his wand, what appeared to be a giant invisibility cloak fell from the pale stone statue, revealing it to the assembled audience.

Sorry if this chapter seems a bit short but it was either have a hugely long chapter or split it into two. The second part of this will be coming in a couple of days.