"So, you're saying," Minerva accepted a heavy splash of firewhiskey into her fat tumbler, "that for your little man there to stay safe and well with us, you -you both- as the very definition of in loco parentis, must marry—"

"Will marry," Hermione broke in, with a sharp nod and a look to Severus.

"…before the new moon."

"Will marry…today."

Harry was cradling his own glass —his second refill— hunched forward as he frowned at them both. "And his…origins, the fact that he comes from a world were everything was lost, you're not going to hide that?"

"Why would we?"

Hermione drew in a long breath, the thought of all that their other selves had lost tearing at her. She was surprised when Severus covered one of her hands with his own, a rough warmth that eased the riot within her. He squeezed, but didn't release her…and for that she was thankful.

"They lost everything. She —his mother— gave him up for a better life. A life where he could know his father. Where he would be safe."

"But if someone had the same plan? But in reverse? To drag Voldemort to this world. To give him the chance to conquer world after world." Harry scrubbed a hand over his face, fear haunting his green eyes. "We can't let that happen."

"We will not, Mr Potter." Kingsley strode from the Severus' fireplace with a smiling Luna in his wake.

Harry jerked to his feet, the lesson obviously beaten in already about respecting his superiors. Severus caught Hermione's eye and his brow lifted. His thought was practically visible.

They got Potter to obey?

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and his mouth twitched.

"At ease, Harry."

Kingsley's dark gaze flicked to Ron, but he said nothing. Free of the cursed ring, Hermione had little wonder that no one questioned the fact that Ron Weasley had —at some point in the recent past— been a complete dick.

"The mirror is now secured in the Department of Mysteries. Though…"

He waved a hand to Luna who caught his fingers and pressed a light kiss to their tips. His dark eyes warmed and a hint of jealousy caught Hermione. The surprise of it made her blink and the thought swirled: would she have that total ease with Severus? After all, they were practically strangers—

"This other dimensional magic —though wondrous— is dependent on sacrifice. Willing sacrifice. Something utterly selfless." Luna's gleaming eyes moved over her…and Severus and a brief —but sad— smile pulled at her mouth. "No one would offer that for Tom Riddle, Harry."

"How do you—?"

Harry bit off the rest of his question. Yes, it was Luna. Luna simply…knew.

His shoulders dropped and he eased his bloodless hold on his glass. "Then we're safe."

Kingsley nodded. "I trust Luna's view on this."

The young Ravenclaw witch beamed up at him and pressed his palm to her lips. "You say the sweetest things, my lovely Minster of all things magical." Her eyes sparkled and none could miss the pink flick of her tongue between his fingers. "Including…me."

Hermione's face flared with heat, Severus winced and Minerva put her glass out for another elfish refill.

"Our bond, Kingsley." Severus looked to his son, whose eyes had drifted shut again. "It is why you're here."

The Minister pulled his gaze away from Luna and nodded. "Please stand."

Hermione rose, her fingers threading through Severus'. To do so was… warm and strangely right. And comforting in a way that Ron's sweaty palm had never been. Severus cradled Septimus in the crook of his right arm, their sweet little boy still happily snoozing.

Her heart squeezed, the unexpected joy of…of a family catching and spinning her emotions. She had woken that morning with the idea of mooching about in dusty old curios to avoid the nightmare that was the Quidditch Supply Shop…and never for one moment—

"Hermione…"

Severus' voice was soft and warm and the bow of his lips quirked upwards. She met his midnight gaze and blinked. "Are you ready to marry me?"

Her breath caught, the echo of something else, something older there under his words.

"Yes…"

"We're ready, Kingsley."

Hermione blinked. What had…? Was the magic reaching out for her already?

"Lift up your hands."

Severus drew her trembling arm up and behind her, muffled shrieks and the crack of plaster said Ron was not best pleased. Strength flowed into her arm at that thought of what could have been her fate.

Mrs Ron Weasley.

No. Oh hell, no.

"This will be short...and strong. The use of a matrimonial soul-binding is not taken lightly."

Hermione stilled, a fist wrapping around her heart. "Is this safe for Septimus?"

"This binding is for him, Hermione." Luna tilted her head and smiled at the little boy. "He's perfectly safe with his father."

Severus' fingers squeezed hers at Luna's soft and so-sure pronouncement.

Kingsley wrapped his hands around both of theirs and a cool wreath of glittering magic chased out from his fingers to wind and curl up their arms.

"I bind you both, soul to soul. One to the other. Magic bound and shared down and on through eternity."

His hands released them, but the magic remained firm, wound around their joined hands and winding up to the elbow.

Kingsley smiled. "You may kiss."

Severus turned and eased forward, careful of the baby held in the free crook of his arm. A brush of lips, sweet and slow and Hermione was uncaring that Harry was gaping at them. Or that he'd put out his glass for another elfish refill.

It was right. It was good. So good…

And magic chased on through Hermione's flesh in a hot and dizzying rush, sweeping over her skin in a silver glitter, winding and twisting, flowing and wrapping around Septimus –who slept on as only he could— to curve around Severus, slipping over cloth and under skin. And back, back to her, looping and rolling, almost finding a form, as a patronus would.

"Beautiful," Severus murmured and he smiled down at her, black eyes lit with silver. His lips brushed her ear. "I have you now, my wife."

A delicious shiver caught her and her mouth dried. Hers. He was hers. And some part of her, long denied, murmured… Finally.

Luna beamed at them. "Let me take little Septimus." She put out her arms. "He's quite safe now. But you…" Her eyes sparkled, as silver as the magic that still wreathed around them. "…you have to seal this bond, with kisses and touches and some rather magnificent fu—"

"Thank you, Luna!" Kingsley's voice broke over hers and he drew in a sharp breath. He swept a shaking hand over his bald head. "Yes…yes, the bond must be sealed. Septimus will be save with us. I swear it."

A warm sprinkle of magic caught his oath, and Hermione, her face still fiercely hot from Luna's words, looked to Severus, who handed over their precious son to her friend.

Hermione's fingers delayed on the wild tuft of the baby's black hair, pushing it back from his velvet-soft forehead. "He's been recently fed and changed. Call for Coy if he gets a little…ripe."

She willed her hand away, looked to Severus and drew on her Gryffindor courage. "Shall we…husband?"

There was a hint of wickedness in Severus' smile as he took her hand and drew it to his lips. His gaze slipped to Ron, before meeting hers again. "I believe we most definitely shall."

Ron's wild thrashing was matched only by Professor McGonagall and Harry collapsing on a couch as one and holding out matching empty tumblers. Kingsley was frowning again at Ron. And Luna had curled into a seat, holding Septimus close.

"You know, Kingsley, I believe I would like six of these. A nice even number."

Hermione laughed as Kingsley's hand was suddenly filled with his own glass of firewhiskey and he sank down next to Harry, staring, simply staring at his witch. A tick starte to jump under his eye.

"Six?"

Luna smiled, something bright and free and oblivious to Kingsley's mounting panic. "Yes, as a start, Kingsley, my love."

The Minister for Magic knocked back his glass in one.

Severus waved Hermione through an arched door and up the narrow twist of dimly lit stairs. "Miss Lovegood, I believe, has everything, and everyone, well in hand."

Hermione, the chase of magic still clinging to her flesh, took to the stairs, too aware of the wizard following close behind. Her heart was tight and aching and nerves had her palms damp. But, Merlin, she wanted this. Wanted him.

And another hidden part of her whispered... It's about bloody time.