December 1998-3 months previously

Severus sat down at the tiny table in a nondescript muggle cafe, "Miss Granger."

"Hermione don't you think?"

Severus sighed, "No I do not, Miss Granger."

"Have it your way." she shrugged, her face unreadable.

"Good." he paused, "I agree.

"You…you agree?" she checked, her composure breaking slightly as the relief coursed through her.

"Yes. I agree. Now. What are the plans?"

Hermione blew out a breath, still feeling slightly blindsided. She'd hoped, of course, she had and some part of her had been sure he'd help but to hear it, to have it actually in front of her saying it was utterly overwhelming. "Right. I don't know how much to tell you all at once. We decided that we needed to limit who knew everything. As it stands it was agreed that Dean, Dennis and I were best placed. Come and meet with us?"

"Very well," Severus drawled. "Where exactly am I to meet with you?"

Looking thoughtful, Hermione took out a galleon, much to his confusion. She glanced around quickly before murmuring quietly over it before handing it over. "Keep it on you, it'll heat up with a date and location."

He blinked back at her stupidly, "Pardon?"

"Oh, we used them for the D.A. in fifth year. Modified protean charm. It's…as untraceable as it gets."

"Mother of Merlin," he muttered, "How did I survive teaching you?"

She dimpled at him, "I think we're going to be great friends."

He groaned in response, shooing her away so he could finish his tea in peace. She laughed as she left, sending a small tendril of fear through him as he wondered if he was truly prepared to deal with this version of the witch.

"Minnie," Viktor smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.

"Viktor," she smiled, allowing some of the tension to drop from her frame.

He frowned, "You look…stressed."

Giving a mirthless laugh, Hermione seemed to slump. "I'm exhausted," she admitted. "Planning is hard. Trying to remain under the radar is hard. And I'm…scared. I'm so scared that we won't pull it off."

"Min," he sighed, moving around the table to wrap her in a hug. "You can do anything you put your mind to."

She gave a slight snort before she began to cry, sinking into him as the weight of the responsibility on her shoulders hit her. "I don't know if I can save the world again."

"You're not on your own, Min," he soothed rocking her lightly, "You have an entire group of people, it does not fall to you. You have more than two teenage boys and a tent." She sighed heavily and he decided to change the subject. "Tell me what you need from me, Min."

"I think it's time to organise that somewhere safe we talked about," she whispered.

"You will always have somewhere safe with me," he murmured, giving away more than he had intended, grimacing above her head he continued, "Did you decide whether you want individual properties or somewhere communal?"

"Oh," Hermione murmured, "Not really…we had been leaning towards a village-type idea," she admitted.

He hummed, "You think people will want to stay together?"

"Initially. I think we'll want somewhere where we can watch each other's backs for a while, somewhere easier warded but I think communal living might be pushing it for most long term."

He made a noise of acknowledgement. "How many houses?"

"Oh gods I don't know! I think around two to three hundred."

"Two to three hundred," he repeated incredulously.

"We're going to need to live together for a while aren't we?" Hermione muttered wryly.

"Us, Min?" he teased. "All you had to do was ask."

"Prat," she muttered with no real heat, still wrapped in his embrace.

"I will try to find land but I think a large house might be best. Afterwards, assuming people want to stay, we can organise a village." he mused thoughtfully, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head without thought.

"Whatever you think's best," she sighed. "Now, wandmakers?"

"I have discreetly put out enquiries in Bulgaria and through a friend in Russia. Both are willing. I thought about having them pose as part of my entourage if we're questioned."

"Viktor," she murmured softly, "you cannot keep visiting. It puts you at risk. You are already at risk...the amount you're doing for us..."

"I am well known," he cut across her, not willing to listen as she talked herself out of allowing him to help. "And more importantly, not British. They have no jurisdiction over me."

"But…"

He tilted her chin up, his expression fierce, "No buts."

"Alright," she agreed, not sure she was ready to deal with the look on his face, not while everything was so difficult.

Reading her expression, he dropped her chin. "I will not push." he murmured, "But perhaps once you are settled."

"Perhaps," she agreed, dropping her head back onto his shoulder, missing the pleased smile that stole across his face.

She wasn't ready to admit it, but she felt better after lunch. Viktor had managed to slowly draw her out, cutting through some of the stress with stories of his teammates, his family and gentle teasing that had her feeling more human than she had in weeks. She did not currently have time to contemplate it but after….perhaps after.

"Alright." Hermione eyed Dean, Dennis and Severus, privately wondering if she'd ever seen a more unlikely trio. "I spoke to Viktor this week."

"Viktor Krum?" Severus checked looking surprised.

"Yes." Her eyes darted to Dean who nodded. "Two wandmakers from Bulgaria and Russia respectively are going to travel here to arrange new wands for us all. We intend to hide them. He is also now looking at land and housing, in the unlikely event we don't need it he can sell but given how things are looking, I gave him the go-ahead to get started. The plan longer term is a village type situation, assuming people want to stay. For just now we thought a large home might be easier. Once we're out of the country, there will be no obligation to remain with everyone else, we just thought that initially there was safety in numbers. Viktor is confident he can arrange a meeting with their Minister once we've moved. The papers are vilifying this government so we're hoping they'll agree to immunity from deportation."

"There's a chance they won't?"

There's always a chance." she admitted, "Viktor has friends sounding them out. It's…a bit of a balancing act. If we tip our hands too soon they might say no and inform the Ministry what we're doing. Without assurances though, we cannot guarantee there won't be another move. He doesn't think it likely though, on the whole, they're appalled. We have been considering a secondary…third? Christ I don't know, another plan, that will see us scatter in small groups if we're not promised protection."

"Merlin fuck." he hissed. "Anything else?"

She shrugged, "We're also working on a plan for the second wave that you don't need to concern yourself with right now. We're still looking for somewhere temporary we can ward here to move people to once we unbind them, probably in the muggle world, although Merlin knows that a house that size is likely to be a problem. And we need somewhere safe and easy to get to to store the wands."

"I see." he hummed, "Is there any use in asking why you're not all leaving now?"

"Because no one wants to believe it will pass," Dennis shrugged. "We did float the idea and the overwhelming consensus was that people couldn't leave on a what if, especially as we're essentially giving up friends, family, stability, careers in many cases… it's well. I can't say I don't understand the logic."

"No," Severus agreed with a groan, "Very well, anything else?"

"Now we need to work out how to unbind magic." Hermione grimaced. "I trust you know what to do about the obliviation and implanted memories?"

"Yes," he agreed, "I imagine so do you."

She flinched as if he'd struck her. "Yes," she whispered, "For all the good it did me."

He sighed heavily, "You did your best with a situation you should never have been left in."

"And still they died."

"But not because Death Eaters caught them. It's…a poor comfort I grant you, but their deaths were far more peaceful than they would have been if that had happened."

"You're right, it is poor comfort."

Severus grimaced. "Do you have any ideas of what they intend to use as a binding?"

"Yes. Harry has books at Grimmauld, we've been looking over them. The Blacks were very heavily involved in government and questionable magic at one point."

"We're relatively certain we've found it," Dean interjected. "And there's no point in pretending it'll be easy."

Severus sighed. "Wonderful. Can we arrange a time to work it out then?"

"Yes.'' Hermione agreed. "Now. We assume I'll be first. Severus, you'll need to unbind me. We had wondered how you felt about death?"

"Pardon?" he barked.

"So they don't come looking for you."

He blinked back at her. "You don't think that's extreme?"

"I think if you disappear they'll hunt, perhaps not initially, but once we start disappearing? They're going to be suspicious. Kingsley is many things I am not currently fond of, but I would never describe him as stupid."

Jesus Christ. Fine. So I die. When?"

"Before the second wave but after the first has started," Dennis supplied. "We have a man inside the government who will keep us updated, who will be able to give you names and addresses following our obliviation."

"Who?"

"Percy Weasley," Dean answered, "He's…utterly horrified but practical enough to be an asset in a way that unfortunately, Harry is not."

"You're not telling Potter?"

"Not until it's done." Hermione replied with a finality that was impossible to argue with.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered again, feeling a tiny bit impressed with the witch's ruthlessness. Potter was going to be livid.

"Hermione, please do not do this."

Hermione eyed Kingsley dispassionately. "What else would you have me do?"

"Is there no one you think you are compatible with?"

"No," she replied stubbornly. "How are the matches made?"

He looked relieved she was asking questions. More fool him. "The Department of Mysteries has developed a charm that matches you with your best match."

"Based on what criteria?"

"Magical strength and affinities…"

"In what way?" she interrupted, "Balancing, one strong, one not?"

He frowned, "I don't follow."

"Well, two magically powerful, compatible people having a child would presumably result in a magically powerful child."

"Well of course."

"But if you are not matching opposites, then what happens to two less powerful people?"

He froze as he understood her question, "I don't know."

She hummed, "So I suppose my real question is, are we being matched based on what is considered our best match or what is considered best for the wizarding world?"

"Hermione…." he trailed off.

"And who are you to be matched with Minister?"

"I am…outwith the age range."

"Of course you are," she scoffed, "It's just my generation that's being enlisted."

"Initially," he agreed, "But that doesn't mean it will remain that way. We may need to widen the pool slightly, the Wizengmot just thought that the initial matching should allow for those closest in age rather than them facing a large age gap."

"How magnanimous of them," she drawled cuttingly. "And are we limited to Britain?"

"Well…we have no jurisdiction overseas, Hermione."

"No." she agreed with a sigh, "So a small pool. What is being done to prevent abuse?"

"Pardon?"

"Abuse, Kingsley, forcing traumatised child soldiers into a marriage is hardly going to result in all hearts and flowers, add in blood prejudice, and people occasionally just being utter arseholes, what is there in this law to protect people?"

"I…don't know," he admitted, "I'll…I'll look at it. If you would just…"

"I will not add anything to this abomination!" she hissed, "So don't dare ask me to!"

I had hoped you'd see sense," he sighed.

"Funny, I was thinking the same about you," she muttered, "Goodbye Minister.

"Ready?'' Hermione looked at Harry fondly, straightening his tie.

He gave her a sad lopsided grin. "Yes and no. How's Ron?"

"Having kittens," Hermione smirked.

He snorted in response before he sighed, "Right let's go and get this done."

Standing to the side, she watched her two best friends marry their witches. It was beautiful, the Burrow decked out in all its winter glory, strings of fairy lights illuminating the garden that was filled with family and friends. Despite it being earlier than either couple had wanted, there was still joy and hope as they promised themselves to each other in a blinding flash of magic.

She felt rather than saw someone come up to stand beside her, enclosing her hand in theirs. With a sigh, she leaned into Viktor's side as he dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. "When you marry, Min, you will look at your husband exactly like that." he nodded his head towards the new Mr and Mrs Weasley standing beside the new Mr and Mrs Potter, all four of them beaming, utterly lost in their new spouse.

"I hope so," she murmured.

"I know so." he countered, squeezing her tightly. "I won't allow anything else."

"Oh you won't?" she teased, finally looking at him.

He didn't smile, regarding her seriously, "No. You deserve all the happiness in the world, Min."

She smiled slightly, allowing him to cuddle her back in, "So do you," she murmured.