First of all, I had uploaded the first two chapters of this story before, so if it seems familiar, don't be surprised. There's a long and stupid story behind it, but I won't bore you with that. Here goes nothing!

Welcome to the first Chapter of A Marriage Goes A Long Way

Rating: Mature, as in you have been warned, nothing for the delicate.

Warnings: Still warning you, there will be lemons and there will be violence. Also this is obviously a 'little' AU, as are about 99% of fanfictions that don't follow every single canon. So don't be too surprised when you see characters that should be dead, or anything else for that matter. And please bear in mind that this story is solely for fun, because the real world can get too serious at times, and we all could use an escape.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, her publishers, and Time Warner, and I think we are all very aware of that.

Like many people my age, I have gotten to grow up right alongside this beautiful and magnificent story, of a boy who lived in the cupboard under the stairs. And because this very story showed us the beauty of imagination, here comes mine.

Constructive criticism is always welcome, but if you don't like this because of the theme or the pairing, feel free to look for something more to your taste. There are hundreds of thousands of stories on this website alone, after all.

Please leave a Review or Favourite or Follow the story if you feel like it, that would be lovely and greatly appreciated!

I hope you enjoy this,

love, Lily.

Ch.1 / Prologue

Here we go again, on the dot, Hermione Granger thought to herself, not able to help a smile, as she adjusted her cloak and faced the red-headed man waiting outside her office.

Ron Weasley, who was staring down Hermione's assistant Duncan, turned and gave her an easy smile in return, although Hermione could see the alert tension in his broad shoulders.

"Hello Hermione! I was thinking of taking you out to lunch?"

She nodded to him, like she had almost every other day of the last few months, and chatting, they made their way through the throng of lunch-goers to the lifts and, ignoring the occasional stares from left and right, managed to get to Muggle-London.

The stares weren't something Hermione wasn't used to, since beginning her career in the Ministry of Magic almost four years ago. Even though she had gone back to Hogwarts with Ginny and Neville to complete her seventh year, so the happenings of the war and her involvement in them had not been as fresh on people's minds once she had started her internship in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione had been mind-boggled by the attention of the people. Everyone had seemed to point and stare, everyday and everywhere, making her incredibly uncomfortable.

But now, Hermione knew it wasn't just her unwanted fame that made the heads turn. The young man beside her was renowned as one third of the Golden Trio and, Hermione admitted, again smiling to herself, wonderfully handsome.

Once they reached the pub they usually frequented, Hermione waved at the barkeeper, who nodded to let her know that he would bring them the meal du jour. "I think Susan would love a simple dinner. You know she doesn't like to be in the spotlight and prefers quite moments over big gestures."

Talking to your ex-boyfriend about his new girlfriend might have been uncomfortable for some people, but Hermione and Ron had, after a year of dating, a few months of awkward dancing-around-each-other, one completely pissed New Years Eve-clash, the slightly less drunk talk the next day, and the ensuing long overdue closure, established a friendship that was just as platonic as the one they had with Harry.

Ron pondered her for a moment. "So I shouldn't rent one of those muggle thingies to have it written in the sky?"

Hermione gave him a look and Ron chuckled.

"I could probably have the lads on their brooms doing that anyway."

Speak of the devil and he doth appear, this time in the form of a moderately tall, broad-shouldered man with untidy black hair and intimidating stance, pushing his way through the midday crowd of the pub. Some of the patrons looked up to watch the curiously dressed man approach their table, but most were regulars, thus used to the trio.

"There you are! Duncan pointed me in your direction. Am I intruding?"

Eyeing the pair with his stony Auror face, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived extraordinaire, scooted into the booth right beside Hermione.

"Don't be silly!" Hermione voiced cheerily, flashing her pearly teeth, as she made room for him. "We were just talking about the proposal. Do you want to eat with us? How are you? I haven't seen you in weeks!"

Harry softened his face muscles to a small grin. "Still no idea how to propose?"

Poor Ron let his head clonk on the table as Harry turned away from the room, shrugging his coat off his shoulders. He looked every bit the sharp and deadly Auror, no trace of the thin, knobbly young boy she had met on the Hogwarts Express.

"And no thanks, I had a luncheon with Kingsley and Sirius, I just wanted to take a break; see what you were up to."

Ron lifted his head back up, an urgent gleam in his blue eyes. "Was the luncheon about Crouch's nephew? The bloody arse finally got it, didn't he?"

Hermione observed how her best friend ran a large hand over his face to hide a grimace. Upon closer look, she noticed that he had rings under his eyes, and the lines around his lips and eyes were too ingrained for a man in his early twenties. She could have sworn he hadn't looked that way a few weeks ago.

"He was urged to resign from his position, yes, but unfortunately that's only as far as we can go," Harry replied, a dark look settling on his face, making him look very much older than his twenty-two years. "We can't prove that he was actually involved in the attack on that girl, so he's bloody free to go."

Ron's eyebrows drew together in sudden rage. "That bastard almost mutilated the girl and we can't prove it?"

"Wait a sec," Hermione interrupted the two aurors. "Are we talking about Andrew Crouch? One of your subordinates?"

As Superintendent-Auror, Harry was the (youngest) leader of one of three divisions that the Auror Corps was divided into. The three superintendents were answering directly to Sirius Black, who had taken over as the head of the Auror Office. After Kingsley Shacklebolt had been appointed the Minister of Magic, he had tried to occupy all the important positions with the most trusted and capable people he could find. Remus Lupin had – after lots of resistance – agreed to take on the role of heading the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, making him Hermione's boss, and a revolutionary first in such a position. Ron and Neville Longbottom were working in Harry's division, but Hermione knew that neither Ron nor Neville were made for the unpredictable and violent lifestyle of an Auror. They were too gentle, had too much joy in other things. Not like Harry. Harry had always had a natural instinct to fight, to bring the bad one's down and protect everyone else in the process, no matter how deserving of kindness they were.

"Yes," Harry answered her question, nudging her bowl of soup closer to her. "I couldn't tell you while the investigation was still going on, but Andrew was one of the main suspects in the attack on that girl two weeks ago. Though she couldn't properly describe the man, various people had seen Andrew, and someone in a muggle raincoat, lingering around the place it happened. There are a few clues, but nothing to tie him down. So Sirius wanted to get him out of the Auror Office and scared him with a trial and some half-truths. This way, we can at least keep an eye on him."

Pushing her soup back away, Hermione leaned back, feeling slightly sick.

For months now, had the wizarding world of Britain been plagued by the news of seemingly random attacks on young, muggleborn witches. What linked them together were their unmarried status, their age, ancestry, and the fact that none of them could describe their attackers. The victims' injuries varied from mere scratches to seriously abused bodies. These attacks were one of the reasons she had been so surprised at Harry's recent absence. Once the Auror Office had determined a pattern and deemed Hermione in the group of possible targets, Harry and Ron had taken to shadowing her every step – and not just in the Ministry during lunch. One of them stopped in every night to make sure her wards were properly set; they had all but forbidden her to go out alone, forcing her to ask Ginny or Luna or anyone, really, to accompany her; and the worst of all: they had managed to get everyone else just as worried as they were. Which basically meant that she had to put up with Molly Weasley suffocating her. She knew that they were doing it out of love, which was really the only reason she let their overprotective stance slide.

And now this. Hermione had shaken hands with Andrew Crouch. She had met him as one of the older recruits Harry had in his squad. He had seemed a little full of himself, not very happy that a 'squirt' like Harry was promoted before him, but nothing that was unusual in most old wizarding families.

Hermione saw the look her two friends exchanged and clenched her jaw. They might have become harder in the process of their work, but Hermione wouldn't let them handle her with kid gloves, just because she wasn't an Auror like them.

"I'll stop by Sirius' office to get the details later," Ron changed the subject, "What's Gin' up to, today?"

Harry cleared his throat, his green eyes showing his compassion. "I think Mrs. Weasley wrote her to bring more eggs to the Burrow, the kids apparently already ran out. She went shopping after her training."

Immediately a sigh left Hermione. Easter Weekend at the Burrow, right.