Returning to Hogwarts, a deluge of homework washed over the 5th-year students, allegedly due to the exams that awaited them in the summer. The Daily Prophet article about the mass breakout of Death Eaters made for further grim reading on the 13th. On top of that, Snape's Occlumency lessons were as painful as anything else the git taught.

Tuesday, paradoxically, already looked much brighter to Harry, when the Castle woke to the news of a murder. Naturally, lessons had to be suspended, but between portraits and ghosts, it did not take long until the entire castle knew that of a Death Eater matching the description of Bellatrix Lestrange had blasting her way through the High Inquisitor's door and striking her down with a single spell before slipping away, the Dark Mark high above Hogwarts.

The students panicked at the thought of a murderer creeping through their school in the Scottish Highlands and behaved accordingly, like a frenzied beehive. Thinking back to his third year, Harry felt strangely calm by comparison. Perhaps even reassuring, a school year was never quite right without Death looming over his head. While some part of him briefly wondered if he should not be shocked by the murder, the thought was quickly banished when he looked at the back of his hand.

Neville seemed particularly affected by the events and Harry felt guilty for not letting his friend know it had been a ruse, that the Bellatrix that had appeared and committed the murder had actually been an imposter. It was a secret he had to hold on to, lest he would have to explain why the Tonks women would go as far as kill someone for him. Not to mention that he did not even know whether it had been his future mother-in-law, or his betrothed who did the deed. Or maybe Sirius, who could have done it using Polyjuice Potion.

And explaining any of these possibilities was just a headache waiting, so Harry kept a lid on it. Umbridge's replacement was an ancient wizard from the Department of Administrative Affairs who should have retired in the sixties. His lessons put Professor Binns' to shame, but at least Professor Appleby had no unexplainable vendetta against him. There was even a practical part to the lessons again, even if it was buried underneath a deluge of educational decrees that sought to standardise everything in Hogwarts, from the thickness of quills used to the shade of ink for homework essays.

"Hermione?"

"Hm?" she hummed, not looking up from the eight-inch thick tome in her lap. Nestled under a blanket and wrapped up in front of the fireplace, his friend had clearly the right idea about dealing with the awful weather outside. Winter had come in force after a mild and damp December, and the students at Hogwarts were not happy being snowed in. Harry pulled off the black beanie he had got from Ron as well as his wet winter coat, glad to no longer look like he had just robbed a post office. He plopped down on the armrest of her armchair and slid down to squeeze in next to her.

"Don't you find it weird how everyone is reacting to my betrothal. Or not reacting at all? Hell, I would have expected that you'd read me the riot act by now," Harry admitted. The whole situation was a mess, but for once his life was not on the line. Tonks was hilariously funny, yet he knew that she could be absurdly attractive if she tried. He remembered how Hermione had turned a lot of heads after she put in the effort. Her walking down the stairs at the Yule Ball had been quite memorable, as was Malfoy's gobsmacked expression upon seeing her. Girls, he'd decided then, could be terrifying seductresses, and Tonks, who could change her appearance at will, stood atop of all of them. So, yes, he'd lucked out for certain in that department. He could have been stuck with Greengrass and her eternal scowl after all.

"Oh Harry," she said and hugged him tightly. Which resulted in him losing his balance and falling onto her. After a bit of wiggling, they were both squeezed onto the chair more comfortably. "I looked up the requirements for what has happened between you two. Such intent-based magic can't just happen on its own. It requires strong emotions – if I had to guess she wanted to protect you, to help you, and you were touched by the gesture and wanted more."

"Still, I was expecting more of a reaction."

"Harry, the only thing I can blame you for is snatching away the first woman who kissed me, and that would be very selfish of me. She wanted to protect you, to help you. That is something I can respect," she said primly. "Also, as attractive as I might find your intended, I would not want to be in your shoes. A magical engagement is frighteningly permanent."

Harry took a moment to crunch that over. "Fair. And everyone else?"

"If I expected common sense at every opportunity, I would have torn out my hair ages ago," Hermione pointed out and sipped from the cup of hot chocolate she had floating near her blanket cocoon. "The pureblood students probably think a betrothal for you was overdue, and might even wonder if there is some political component to it. Reparations for Sirius' betrayal or something equally stupid. Or they will wonder how Tonks can represent House Black since her mother's marriage and disowning was the scandal of the year back in the day. Not even the Daily Prophet knows what to make out of that."

"Lovely, it is last year all over again, but with politics."

"Most students do not care about that. They are probably split between being envious of you, like Ron, and wanting to curse Tonks for stealing you away, like that Romilda girl from third year."

"Ron will come around, but I have to ask. What?"

"You would be surprised how many girls dream about you – or about THE Harry Potter from their bedtime stories. Come to think of it, some might take drastic steps before you are snatched up. Maybe you should keep an eye out for love potions."

"What?" Harry repeated himself.

"Ginny is hardly the only one raised on tales of a boy who went on adventures and duelled vampires on top of the Orient Express or explored ancient Egyptian pyramids with cursed traps and mummies that came to life," Hermione said gleefully. "There's an entire generation of witches raised on stories about your fictitious heroics, and then you come to Hogwarts, become the youngest seeker in living memory, get an award for special services to the school before you finish your second year and then become Triwizard Champion. And some are far less scrupulous than Ginny."

"You are enjoying this far too much."

"Don't worry, I will defend your honour and virtue against the relentless hordes of infuriated fangirls."

"Why would they want to slip me a love potion? Those don't last particularly long. Even I know this, and I'm pants at Potions. Also, my fiancée is an Auror," he said and grimaced at the term. There was nothing wrong with Tonks, but the whole situation left him not just confused, but also torn up on the inside, unsure what he should be feeling. Tonks had taken the news much worse than her parents, and they only had a few brief, painfully awkward conversations at Grimmauld. The letters Hedwig carried back and forth were not much of an improvement. Although at least she was writing back.

"The dumb ones think that they would only need one date to convince you that they would be the better choice."

"Better than Tonks?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow? Physically, there would be no competition, and the only two unattached witches he really got along with were Hermione and Katie. "And I want to stress it again, she's an Auror, she'd clap them in irons faster than they could blink."

"As I said, they are not the brightest ones. Although with Tonks, I'd be more worried about curses than having the book thrown at me. But those girls are not who you should be worried about."

"Oh? And which girls should I be afraid of?"

"The ones who want to entrap you. A love potion for you, a fertility potion for them, and nine months later, you have an eight-pound problem."

"Are they really crazy enough to expect that to work?"

"As far as I can tell, there is a strong taboo about abortion in the magical world, probably due to their small population. Combined with the stigma against children born out of wedlock, and they probably expect you to do the honourable thing," Hermione explained with dripping disdain.

"The honourable thing? The honourable thing would be to make them dementor food," he hissed back, remembering Snape's lecture about the kiss being the most gruesome sight imaginable. "Also, I don't need to worry about that kind of trap because my future mother-in-law learned curses alongside Bellatrix Lestrange, and she passed on that knowledge," Harry replied dismissively, although not in a joking mood. "Just look at Umbridge –"

"Quite," Hermione conceded, and continued in a quiet, conspiratorial voice. "And after forcing themselves on you, I couldn't even find fault with that."

"Good, because if someone would try something funny with you, I would be down in the Chamber of Secrets, looking for the biggest basilisk fang to put through their bollocks."

"Now I understand why you find the thought of gruesome murder comforting," Hermione said and pulled him tighter against her side. "Thank you."

"That poison was the worst pain I ever felt. Worse than Voldemort's cruciatus. The curse hurts everywhere, but the poison felt like I was burning from within. And even that would be too nice for them," Harry said, their eyes locked. "Whoever tries that is a dead man walking."

Hermione wordlessly hugged him again.

"I am a bit confused about the whole Umbridge thing though," he admitted after a quiet moment to gather his thoughts. "And I am not sure if I should think about it."

"Better get it out than bottle it up. I think that's a lesson learned from the summer," Hermione said with a slight blush, remembering how angry Harry had been with Ron and her when he had come to Grimmauld last August.

"Well, I keep thinking about Umbridge. And how no one lifted a finger to stop her for half a year, but a few words to Sirius and Tonks, and she's dead within the fortnight."

"Well, you have to admit that it was a rather drastic step."

"Help will always be given at Hogwarts, to those who ask for it. Those were Dumbledore's words, yet when I asked for help, McGonagall just told me to keep my head down. And I'm not saying that they had to kill her, both Dumbledore and McGonagall are masters of transfiguration after all. A stunner from behind, one spell and then Umbridge is a mouse or a pebble."

"I feel like I should reject these suggestions, but after Rita…" Hermione trailed off, and Harry gave her a warm smile.

"I found it stupid how Umbridge was teaching us nothing despite Voldemort's return, but it wasn't until Tonks started quoting the law when I realised just how bad it was. What Umbridge is doing here is analogous to treason against the country."

"Treason?"

"She's sabotaging both our ability to fight back, and the recruitment prospects for the Aurors. Also, her insistence about Voldemort not being back rather than investigating the whole mess directly helps him as well," Harry said and ran a hand through his hair. "Of course, given the current government's stance, it wouldn't even have been treason. After all, the government can't commit treason, even if they are betraying the people."

"That sounds almost revolutionary, but I think you'll struggle to find enough Jacobites, even this deep in Scotland."

"Wizards and Witches of the world, unite. You have nothing to lose but your chains," he cackled, and was swatted with a pillow in return. "And it's not just Umbridge, if you think about it. When was the last time we were actually helped here at Hogwarts?"

"Your Patronus lessons," Hermione was quick to point out.

"Professor Lupin was our Defence teacher though, helping me with a defensive spell is pretty much what he was getting paid for. The only example of actual help I can think of was Crouch Jr, and he was the one who got me into that mess in the first place."

"There must be more," she insisted, sounding almost desperate.

"First year, McGonagall dismissed us. Second year, the teachers were like headless chickens, and if they truly had no idea what Slytherin's monster was, that is pretty telling in itself. Getting into the Chamber was down to Ron and me, too," Harry pointed out. Surely someone must have connected the dots to Myrtle. "Third year, I got more academic help from Florean Fortescue than I ever got here. And no one thought that it might be useful to teach me self-defence with a supposed mass-murdering manic after me. And let's not even talk about last year. When I told Sirius' how Dumbledore wanted to use me as bait, he hit the roof. And we all know how that plan went. Instead of help, I was served on a platter to Voldemort."

Hermione's mind was going a mile a minute, and she did not like the conclusions she was reaching. "It is pretty damning if you put it like that."

"No, what's damning is that we went through all of that on our own, but after I got pissed and engaged, someone actually helped me," Harry replied bitterly, but as Hermione ran her fingers over his back, some of the tension bled from him. "I have talked to Tonks maybe half a dozen times before that blender, and not much more afterwards. I've talked to her mother twice, and fainted the first time. And yet they did not hesitate to murder someone for a practical stranger"

"Umbridge was torturing children," Hermione conceded hesitantly.

"And yet it were the two women who no longer have a connection to this place that stopped her, probably with some help from Sirius," Harry said and felt like he was repeating himself without getting to the point. "Look, I'm pretty confused about this whole betrothal thing. It has been three weeks, and I still can't wrap my head around the whole "until death" part of the deal. And yet, Tonks and her mother have done more to help me than anyone else. Do you know how weird it is to suddenly have adults in your life who care?"

"I can't imagine what that's like," Hermione whispered and renewed her hug. "I have been drifting apart from my parents ever since coming towards Hogwarts, but I always knew that I could come to them for help."

"I never had that. My misbegotten relatives would've liked to keep me in the cupboard, had the neighbours not begun to take note of me. And Sirius was in Azkaban and on the run before he'd made it to me. All the while, Dumbledore and McGonagall had kind words and a fair bit of sympathy for me, but they always made sure I knew that they were not my family. Andromeda, Tonks, and Sirius did more for me than anyone else has in my life, and the bar is relatively low, mind you."

"You can't expect everyone to commit murder on your behalf."

"So your parents would just sit there and do nothing if your teacher tortured you?"

"My father might take some drastic measures."

That admission did reaffirm Harry's thoughts about the mess with Umbridge. Yet at the same time, he felt like he ought to lighten the mood.

"Are your parents actually dentists, or are they dentists?"

"I could hear the air quotes there, but I don't follow," Hermione said with some confusion.

"You don't really talk about your parents much, and both of them are in the same specialised field, so it crossed my mind that dentistry could just be a ruse for what they are actually up to."

"My parents are not Double O Agents, if that's what you're implying."

"Is your father at least part of the Hereford Spa and Social club?" Harry prodded instead with a roguish grin.

"We live in Crawley, so why – Oh, I see. No, Dad is not in the Special Air Service, either. He was however a medical officer in the Royal Navy, so technically, he was a sailor. Putting Jack Tar's jaws back together is how he got into dentistry," Hermione replied hotly, but the grin tugging at her lips was undeniable. "I don't talk much about him or Mum because they are a bit embarrassing, and because most kids run for the hills as soon as you mention dentists."

"There goes my theory then."

"Sorry to burst your fantasy about being James Bond's daughter," she said without feeling sorry. "You will have to settle for your friend with the dentist parents."

"You suck."

"I thought we have established that I am, in fact, not attracted to men," Hermione replied primly, although for a moment, she looked more nervous than before exams.

"Yet you are a year older than me and still unspoken for," Harry shot back without missing a beat, and saw the tension bleed out of her. "Maybe I should introduce you to someone before you end up as an old spinster with twenty cats."

"There are not many girls who like other girls. Unlike some of us, I don't have half of the castle pining after me. And Crookshanks is more than enough for me," she replied, and as if summoned, her familiar chose that moment to poke out his head into the Common Room. Unimpressed by what he saw, the Kneazle's head disappeared as quickly as it had come out as he turned tail and trotted back up the stairs.

"Fat load of luck that gave me. In case you haven't noticed, Tonks isn't a student here."

"Fair point. But if Tonks wasn't in the picture, you could have a date before the week was over."

"So could you. I remember how many heads you turned during fourth year," Harry pointed out, sounding far too smug for her liking. He was up to something.

"Ugh," Hermione replied through gritted teeth. "The heads of boys, you mean."

"Don't be so sure. Say, what do you think of Katie?"

"Eeep."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Harry said and looked around the common room for his former teammate. "Hey, Katie!"

AN:

Beta'ed by doenerkint/Babidibupi.

This one took a bit of a rewrite, it went from one fireside chat to two, and then back to one because my beta rightfully complained that the flow was shit in that version.