*~* Trigger Warning for brief Mention of Miscarriage *~*

"Thank you," Hermione whispered. Ginny finished clasping the necklace, and Hermione let her hair down. She looked down at the locket, prying it open and peering inside. Fred beamed up at her on the right, and her parents waved from the left. She took a shaky breath and looked herself in the mirror.

"You're ready," Ginny said softly. Hermione nodded mutely. "Dad's got Harry Juice, he'll arrive just after Mum so there's enough attention taken away from you two to leave." She nodded again, a trembling finger touching the photo of her parents. Safe. In Australia. They were safe. They were safe. "Hermione."

"Is- Is Ron . . .?"

"He'll leave for the Ministry at the same time that Dad leaves for here. Should cause enough fuss to help," Ginny confirmed.

"He didn't say anything," Hermione whispered. She closed the locket.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Hermione."

She sighed, running her thumb across the locket. The mirror showed a stick with a bush on top. Hard to believe she'd lost that much weight. She looked bony, unhealthy. She felt like a strong breeze might plow her over.

She was so far from healed.

"Hermione, what about Ron?"

"He didn't say anything," Hermione said louder. Her voice cracked and she winced. She'd hurt her vocal chords screaming. She didn't know that was possible. But she couldn't raise her voice beyond a quiet sort of voice that could carry no more than a few feet. "When I . . . Told him."

"Hermione," Ginny hugged her tightly from behind. "He'll come 'round, always does." Hermione took a shaky breath, unable to pull her eyes away from the witch in the mirror. Dark bags under her eyes, yellowed skin, hollow cheeks, a collarbone that could cut cardboard. Ginny looked too. Hermione flushed to think that everyone looking at her saw this frail thing that wasn't Hermione Jean Granger. She refused to let that thing be her.

But it moved when she did, and plastered on the same fake smile over a roiling stomach.

"I haven't seen him in weeks."

"I know."

That smile died quickly.

"What if he-"

"Hermione," Ginny tugged on a strand of her wild hair. "Let's go."

A rap on the door had Hermione nearly jumping from her skin. Ginny's hands tightened around her for a moment. Then a rather familiar voice called, "Ginny? 'Mione? We're ready to go!"

Ginny took a shaky breath and answered, "One second."

The only reason George didn't come barging in was the charm on the door. As the closest thing she had to family and the one person hospital staff wouldn't question, Harry had been forced to choose three people allowed to visit her (outside the sole mediwitch charged with her care), and picked Ginny, Ron, and himself. This before Hermione had woken up in a craze and demanded to see Fred. She must've been sedated after that, because the next thing she knew Harry and Ginny were both there and Harry was asking all sorts of questions.

Because any remnant of their enemy might seek revenge against Harry through her, the door had been charmed and hexed and shielded and hidden. Honored as she was, it all felt rather unnecessary.

Now, she would leave these rooms. Three weeks, and the only knowledge of anything going on in the world came second-hand from Harry and Ginny. Hermione looked at the wide red door, the pane of frosted glass centered within it showing little more than a shadow beyond.

Ginny opened the door, holding it as Hermione trudged forward. She lifted her gaze from the gleaming floor, hoping beyond hope to find something safe in the warm brown eyes she subsequently met. She did. How couldn't she?

Her feet flew, her arms slinging around two necks, pressing her cheeks between theirs. Her toes grazed the ground as they curled around her and lifted together. Then, George stepped back, and Fred spun her in a dizzying circle, peppering her hair and face with kisses all the while.

"Thank Merlin, thank Merlin, thank Merlin," he chanted. "You're safe. You're safe."

"I'm safe," Hermione echoed. He set her on her feet and she gripped his face in her hands, looking him over. "You've got a new scar."

"Yeah, got a couple," Fred smiled. "Can't wait for you to find them all."

Hermione laughed, hugging him tightly. "You wouldn't believe how much I've missed you."

"I think I've got a fairly good idea, love." He kissed her softly, his knuckles brushing against her cheek. "Mum is gonna love the chance to fatten you up."

"No more skinny ankles," Hermione hummed. Fred laughed, kissing her again. "We should probably stop."

"Should we?"

"Yes," Ginny and George said together. Hermione smiled at Fred, taking a step back. He took her hand tentatively.

"How do you want to do this?" He asked. Hermione looked down at their hands, fitting her fingers through his. When she met his eyes again, all traces of mirth were gone. "You're sure?"

"Yeah."

"Then let's give those bastard media creeps something to talk about," Fred said. Hermione smiled at his nerves. He kissed her. "We can do this."

"Okay," Hermione nodded. "Are you ready?"

"For Mum to kill me? Been ready for years."

~m~

"I see we're having an intervention," Hermione sighed, rubbing at her temples. She carefully shifted around the papers on her desk. Fred sat down on the corner of it.

"It's past midnight, love."

"I know."

"This isn't your job," Fred said quietly. "You don't have to worry about it."

"It's been a year, Fred. We're awarding the Order of Merlin, first class, to every member of the Order of the Phoenix who fell, as well as every student. It's a lot-"

"It's also Record's job, not Enforcement's," Fred picked up a sheaf of paper. "You don't have to go through them all."

"I can't let them be forgotten-"

"If that's what this is about-"

"He's still out there, Fred!" Hermione cried. She all but threw two files at him. He caught them silently. "No one is doing anything!"

Fred looked at the papers, at the scribbles and lines and question marks. "You- You're trying to find out who was responsible for every death- you're-"

"Rookwood has nine confirmed kills," Hermione whispered. "Nine. And I'm only halfway through! Percy and Tess—they were nothing to him. I- I need to make sure that they don't become nothing to everyone."

"You need to come home," Fred's voice broke, and she could not bear to look at him. "Come home and sleep. You- You're not well, Hermione."

"I'm fine, Fred."

"I am two seconds from Confunding you and dragging you home."

"Fred!"

"I can't sleep when you're not there!" Fred hissed. "It's too quiet. So- so will you please just shove your pride down enough to come home for one fucking night out of the week?!"

Hermione bit her tongue, waiting until some of the venom left her to answer. "I need to work."

"This isn't your job."

"I'm not finished yet," Hermione said.

"You may never be finished," Fred protested. "This isn't healthy."

"I have to finish."

Fred did not get off her desk, looking around the room. Hermione went back to compiling another list of witnesses who might know something about the death of a fourteen-year-old Ravenclaw who got trapped before her cohort could escape the castle. The Carrows were suspected. Hermione didn't know if that was logistically possible.

"Can I sleep on the couch?" Fred asked quietly. Hermione nodded. She adjusted her lamp to face further away from the spot. "I love you, Hermione Jean Granger." He kissed the top of her head as he slid off the desk. She grabbed his wrist before he could pull away. He sighed and brushed his thumb under her eyes, pushing the tears there back. "Come home, please."

"There's so many," Hermione said, her throat thick. "So- Just so many, Fred. And- And I need to know what happened to them. And why- how- why it didn't happen to me. To us. Because I don't know that it was worth it."

"What do you mean, worth it?" Fred knelt beside her. She sobbed, shaking her head.

"Percy pushed me out of the way. I- I was supposed to die, Fred. It was supposed to be me-"

"Sh, I know, Hermione," he pulled her down into him. She nearly fell out of her chair, unable to hold herself up any longer. "I love you. I don't care. I loved Percy. It would be no better had he done nothing," Fred said softly. He ran his hands through her wild hair. "Any one of us would have done it. Not just for you. For anyone. Mum and Dad raised us right, that's all."

Hermione smiled into his shoulder. "They really did, didn't they?"

"Yes," Fred pulled back to look at her. "And now, young Miss Granger, Head Officer of Magical Enforcement, Crimes against Magical Minorities and Creatures division, we must return home."

"Fred, I really do need to finish-"

"You can't contact any of these people in the dead of the night. You can't tie off any loose ends without talking to your witnesses. So, let's go home, sleep for five to seven hours, and you'll feel better tomorrow, and be able to talk to people at a reasonable hour. Okay?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose, "Five hours? Why would I get up before six?"

"Not get up before six," Fred chuckled. He kissed her cheek twice, then whispered in her ear, "Go to bed after two."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're insatiable. You won't last two hours."

"Those two statements were inherently contradictory, my love."

They went home together. Hermione had to admit the next morning that she felt better having slept for more than an hour or two on the couch in her office. Fred took the day off work and sat on the couch, double checking her work or tackling a section on his own.

About an hour in, he muttered, "You really thought I was dead?"

"We all did," Hermione answered softly. She scratched off a witness; he'd died not an hour later. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Christ, this is hard."

"That's the one that died and came back, right?" Fred hummed. "Why don't you call Harry-"

"Because it's sacrilegious."

"Ooh, big word. What's sacralicious?"

"Fred."

"You know, folks like your parents used to try to burn folks like us," Fred said mildly.

Hermione took a deep breath. "My grandmother more than my parents. It doesn't matter that much."

"Matters enough that you don't want me to call Harry the Most Holy Chris."

Hermione laughed under her breath. "Didn't we agree George was the Most Holy?"

Fred chuckled. "How come that's not sacrilegious?"

"Because he lost an ear."

"Laughing at disabilities now, are we?"

"He can hear fine," Hermione rolled her eyes, then her neck. It cracked enough that she winced. "Angelina doesn't seem to mind."

"She doesn't, does she?"

Hermione bit her tongue. She went through another stack.

"I can smell the secret on you, you know."

"Stop," Hermione said.

"We should work together more often."

Hermione laughed loudly. "There's no way in hell you'd last two days in the Ministry. And I refuse to work under you."

"I thought you liked being under me."

"Frederick Gideon."

He smirked at her. "Didn't you say that just the other night—you prefer letting me do the heavy lifting?"

"Different circumstances."

"Oh, oh, of course," Fred said sagely.

Two raps at the door made both jump. The door opened without pause, which meant it was Harry or Ron.

Or both. Ron had the door, Harry behind him. He looked haggard as Hermione felt.

"Teddy?" Hermione asked.

"Got him for the week. Grandmum's at St. Mungo's again," Harry nodded. Hermione sighed, wiping at her hairline.

"We're getting lunch," Ron said. "You two should come."

"We're working."

"Hermione, I told you: that's not your job," Harry said. Hermione swallowed under his concerned disapproval. Fred shifted some papers loudly.

"I'm helping her get through it," Fred said easily.

"Up to eleven," Hermione said softly. The door creaked beside Ron.

"I'm going to get the bastard," Harry vowed lowly. "I promise."

~m~

"I have been your most staunch supporter, despite your tendency to get yourself and others in trouble-"

"Out of trouble."

"Hermione Jean Granger, you will let me finish!" The newspaper's landing echoed throughout the house. Hermione flinched at the cover, despite the photo being one of her favorites.

Fred held the door for her, their hands intertwined, then started pushing through a mob of flashes and shouting reporters. Not that those shouts could be heard from the photo. The little ink Hermione stopped dead and grabbed her Fred by the tie, pulling his mouth against hers. He raised a fist in victory.

"Every time you end up on the front page, not only do I inch closer to conniption but witches who might otherwise support your bid for Minister-"

"I don't want to be Minister-"

"Witches who would support you see not a logical, rational adult but a stupid teenager in love!" Mrs. Weasley finished.

"Why can't I be both?" Hermione countered, her usual argument despite her fast approaching twentieth birthday. "I had just successfully prosecuted Rookwood after tracking him to the ends of the earth, prosecuted him for seventeen separate murders, proving each individually, and leaving to the Wizengamot only the fact that there were likely more victims we'd never be able to tie to him. He'll be rotting in jail until after you've got great-grandkids. Should that not be cause for celebration?"

"Not that sort, not on Ministry grounds," Mrs. Weasley tapped the photo then rolled up the newspaper. "As you well know."

"Molly, I was exhausted, I was annoyed, and that damned Philo asked me if I was engaged to Draco Malfoy," Hermione said. Mrs. Weasley smacked her on the side of the head with the newspaper. "Molly!"

"The answer to that question is no, not a snog with my son." Mrs. Weasley glared, and Hermione swallowed, reaching for a scone on the little plate between them. Mrs. Weasley sighed, "They are debating changing the law such that you don't have to wait until twenty-five-"

"Head of Magical Law Enforcement is just fine, thank you," Hermione said. "Kingsley is not retiring for a while yet. They don't need to debate anything."

The clock in the hall chimed. Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "I have to get back to work, Molly."

"You ought to give yourself more than a half-hour lunch, dear," Mrs. Weasley tapped her hand with the newspaper. Hermione stood, grabbing an extra scone and wrapping it in a napkin. She looked around the Burrow's kitchen, as big a mess as ever, though noticeably shiny, now that there were less children to support and roughly three and a half income streams for the house, what with Ginny and the twins contributing what they could, Bill filling in the gaps where they couldn't. Both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley adamantly opposed it, but it only made their children sneakier, so they allowed it. No one ever suggested moving somewhere newer, though the Burrow appeared to lean less of late.

"I get an hour, but I tend to split it between lunch and dinner," Hermione said, moving toward the fireplace.

"Then you should have two hours, dear."

"Fred's of the same opinion," Hermione nodded. "I just have a small project. Takes a little extra work. I'll see you next Thursday?"

"Sunday, dear. Family dinner."

"Oh," Hermione surprised herself with her own forgetfulness. "Right. I'm sorry."

"I'll come down to your office and drag you out-"

"Fred and I have a deal: absolutely no work of any kind on Sundays. He lets George do everything, makes it up on Saturdays."

"Good," Mrs. Weasley said. "Give my love to your mum and dad, dear."

Hermione tossed Floo Powder into the fireplace. "Will do. The Ministry of Magic!"

~m~

"Miss Granger, you were in charge of the Rookwood case, no?"

"When Rookwood escaped justice at the Battle of Hogwarts, I was not yet an employee of the Ministry. Upon my employment, I was at first an assistant to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Nine months later, when Mr. Stoneworth retired, and Mr. Crane replaced him, Mr. Crane chose me as Head Officer of Magical Law Enforcement, Crimes Against Magical Minorities and Creatures division, due to my interest in contradicting what has become the norm regarding both Muggleborn witches and wizards and magical creatures of all sorts-"

"Miss Granger, I have only so much time for my questions, if you could answer with a yes or no-"

"It's much more complicated than that, Mr. Duncler," Hermione said easily. "During my time as assistant head, I was in charge of a sect of Aurors who were investigating the whereabouts of Rookwood. I was not, though, in charge of the investigation itself. I helped compile data for the Ministry not because of my duty as an employee, but because I intended to help aid that investigation."

"So . . . You weren't in charge?"

"Though the Aurors on the case reported to me weekly or when big developments struck, I was not technically in charge, no."

"It took just over a year to apprehend Rookwood, did it not?"

"It did, sir, yes."

"Why was your office so mismanaged that it took a year to apprehend a man convicted of no less than seventeen murders, Miss Granger?"

"The lead Auror on the case changed twice, due to retirement and perceived lack of dedication, and the most recent felt caution was necessary when dealing with such a dangerous opponent-"

"And what idiot felt the safety of a few Aurors, whose job it is to catch bad wizards, outweighed the risk posed to citizens of this community, with no such dueling capabilities?"

Hermione pursed her lips for a moment. She doubted this man had ever been in a fight of any sort. Coward, absolute coward, to question her Aurors like that. Not after the work she'd gone through to ensure that the Aurors wanted to help society, not boost their own ego. She and Harry had gotten a fourth of the department replaced.

Hermione took a deep breath before looking Mr. Duncler in the eye. "You don't follow the papers, do you, sir?"

"If you'll excuse me, Miss Granger, I will ask the questions today. What elf-brained witch or wizard delayed the apprehension of the convicted murderer Augustus Rookwood?"

"That would be Harry James Potter, sir," Hermione said, feeling bad for the man despite his foolishness. He hadn't bothered to read her briefing, all the reasons she should remain in her current position. His questions, answerable in her sleep, were all almost completely redundant to the rest of the panel. "And I'd take it kindly if you did not use any more derogatory language involving House-Elves." He balked, seated high above her, as an assistant pulled a sheaf of paper from in front of him and reshuffled the pages. He turned quite pale.

"Ah. Yes. Erm."

"Rookwood evaded attempts to capture him so long only because he had longstanding connections in the Ministry, connections he still has today," Hermione said coolly. "Investigation into those connections is ongoing, until such a time that our community no longer has to fear the retaliation of similarly minded witches and wizards. My actions as division head in the Rookwood case were these: I authorized the use of force in the very likely event that he became hostile; I authorized Mr. Potter to take a half-dozen men to Inverness, where Rookwood was ultimately taken into custody; I authorized the use of department funds to allow two Aurors prior to this to surveil Inverness and the surrounding area. That is all."

"That's Mr. Duncler's time."

Gods, she'd timed that better than she'd thought. Hermione smiled slightly, letting her nervous hands fall into her lap.

"I thank the committee for your attentions, and Miss Granger for her testimony."

Nods around the room.

"Mr. Williams?"

Jacob Williams' father. Hermione flinched at the sight of him. His son had been the spitting image of him. Hermione steadied herself with a breath, straightening in her chair. Fred and Hermione had dropped off flowers for him and his wife two weeks ago.

"I yield my time to Ms. Greengrass." He offered her an encouraging sort of smile. Hermione swallowed nervously. They were getting into the last of the twelve questioners now: one sympathetic to her, the other convinced she (and most everyone else) was an idiot. She knew the first, not the second.

Mrs. Lucia Reynolds Greengrass was one of two female members of the questioning panel. Hermione met her watery blue eyes comfortably. Malfoy was dating her daughter, Astoria. She, Fred, Malfoy, and Astoria had enjoyed dinner together not long ago. The Greengrass Estate was modest, boasting a comfort found in utility and high-quality necessities, rather than a collection of superfluous baubles. They didn't seem to have much, but everything they did have was the best one could find. Astoria much resembled her mother, a former Mediwitch, now a leading figure of the Wizengamot. Astoria was involved in ensuring Hogwarts' budget was adequately met annually.

"I'd like to speak about the incident at Malfoy Manor, which occurred nearly a year ago today. Are you familiar with and comfortable speaking about this topic?"

"I am."

"Do you count the death of Angelina Johnson-Weasley's unborn child among the murders Augustus Rookwood committed?"

The breath left Hermione, and it took her a long moment to reclaim it. She swallowed thickly. "It is its own charge—Dark Magic acts resulting in the death on an Unborn One. The department decided not to prosecute on this charge, given the seventeen other charges to prove."

"And Ms. Johnson-Weasley, then Miss Johnson, why was she at the Manor during the altercation?"

Fuck. Fuck.

Hermione swallowed again. "We were unaware that Rookwood was at the Manor. Draco and Narcissus Malfoy extended an invitation, against their will, that Angel—excuse me, Ms. Johnson-Weasley—accompany me to dinner with them, as a way of apologizing. Also with us were Frederick, George, and Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, and Mr. Ollivander."

"That was the day Mr. Ollivander died, was it not?"

"Yes."

"And this dinner was in fact a trap, laid for you and the others by Rookwood and seven other rogue Death Eaters, who held the Malfoys against their will and planned to kill them as well, correct?"

"Yes."

"How did Ms. Johnson-Weasley's unborn child die?"

"When the fight broke out, we were all scattered. She saw him running, and she tried to catch him before he could reach the Point of Apparation."

"She was not successful."

"No."

"You found her before Rookwood escaped, did you not?"

"Yes."

"There were other Death Eaters to your back."

"Yes."

"You found your friend, your future sister-in-law, lying in the grass, bleeding from several wounds to her face and arms, and from between her legs."

"I did."

"You saw Rookwood standing at the gate. What did you do, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione closed her eyes, and said thickly, "I shot a curse at him, but I stayed with Angelina. I couldn't risk- she needed medical attention and Fisk was right behind me. If I'd left her, he might've killed her."

"So the only reason you allowed Rookwood to leave those premises alive was because the health of a woman carrying a child was at risk?"

"Yes."

"I yield my remaining time to Mr. Briarson."

The older man cleared his throat. "I- My questions also related to the incident at Malfoy Manor. I yield my time with any who has unanswered questions for Miss Granger."

Hermione took a shaking breath. She'd have to thank Greengrass later. Better to have the hard questions from an ally than a bigot like Briarson. The Wizengamot was silent for a long moment, save a few awkward cleared throats.

"I move to vote on the subject of one Hermione Jean Granger's remaining on as the Head of her current Department," said Kingsley, smiling at her. She sucked in a breath. The lights came up in the arena-like stands above her. No longer were just twelve visible, but one hundred and seventy-two.

"I second," said Professor McGonagall instantly.

"Those against?" Two, three- ten hands. Hermione nearly cried. "Those for?" Close to one hundred and fifty, likely a little more. Thank the gods. "Abstaining?" Four hands. "The vote is closed. Ms. Granger, we would be honored if you continued to serve in your current position."

Hermione smiled, "Thank you, Minister."

"You are excused."

~m~

"You look like hell."

"Thank you, Ginny," Hermione fell into the booth across from the red-headed menace. Angelina slid in beside her. "Is Fleur not here yet?"

"Said she needed to pick something up," Ginny shrugged.

"She'd better be here," Angelina said. "It's been a month since our last lunch."

"She has a baby," Hermione pointed out. Angelina nudged Hermione. "What? It's the best excuse any of us have."

"Says the Minister to be," Ginny snorted.

"I'm not in the running!" Hermione said. "And I don't want to be."

"Still bossing around Harry and Ron then?" Angelina chuckled.

"No."

"Yes."

"Ginny."

"Harry comes home and it's 'Hermione this, Hermione that.' You're basically running the place," Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Kingsley asked for my help. That's all."

"It's a glorified interview."

"It is not!"

"I give it ten years," Angelina said.

"Ten? Try five."

"Oh, where the fuck is Fleur?" Hermione lifted herself enough to peer over the high backed booth and around the restaurant at large. Fleur, luckily, chose that very moment to emerge from the fireplace in a whirlwind of green flames. She was not alone, and Hermione gaped. "Is that Ida?"

"Ida?" Ginny whipped around to look. "I haven't seen her in ages!"

"Squish in," Fleur said as she reached the table. Hermione pressed into the wall, and Angelina pushed closer, letting Fleur sit at the end. Ida sat down beside Ginny, who immediately threw her arms around the reporter.

Ida laughed, "It's good to see you."

"We're debating how long it'll take Hermione to be Minister," Ginny said.

"I have a few things to do before I get there," Hermione insisted.

"I'm sure you can do Fred after getting the Ministership."

"Ida!"

"A word of advice, 'Ermione," Fleur smiled. "Kids first. Zey are ze perfect excuse! A function is running long, and suddenly! Oh no! We must rush home and check on the wee little babe!"

They laughed at Fleur's frantic imitation of parental horror. The waitress came by and took their drink orders. Water for Ginny and Angelina (Quidditch season and all), mimosas for Ida and Fleur, and a rye whiskey for Hermione.

She felt that choice in the odd looks alone. "Long week."

"It's lunch," Ginny said flatly.

"And whiskey makes you horny," Angelina added.

"And George banned sex from the shop," Ida said.

"It was a mutual agreement," Hermione and Angelina both said. They caught each other's eyes and laughed quietly.

"Ugh, moving on," Ginny said.

"Or not, because this is an area I have some expertise in," Ida flipped her dark hair over her shoulder dramatically. Ginny groaned again.

"Why do I even come to these?"

"Because you're morbidly curious," Hermione supplied.

"I sometimes zink you are too young, Ginny, but zen I remember I was no older when I met Bill," Fleur smiled, patting Ginny's hand across the table. "I am 'appy you are 'ere."

"There's still the flat over the shop, right?" Ida broke in.

"For storage," Angelina wrinkled her nose. "It's dusty file cabinets, mostly."

"Right, well, that's not off limits, is it?"

"You're more likely to get attacked than get off up there," Hermione explained. "They don't take care of it. It's bound to be no better than Grimmauld was."

"You got off there, didn't you?" Ida raised an eyebrow.

Hermione closed her mouth abruptly. "N- No."

"Then how did Sirius find out again?" Ginny asked, putting on the airs of innocence.

"Ginny!"

"I'm sensing the need for a new subject," Angelina said.

"Aw, come on, I need to fill out the edges of my piece-"

"No work at zis table," said Fleur imperially. Ida swallowed, cheeks slowly going pink.

"We've talked about it," Hermione said. "It's okay. Ida knows the difference between personal and publishable."

"We let 'er work, zen you talk work, and Ginny and Angelina talk work, and I sit 'ere and wonder if any of you ever 'ave time for fun. No work." Fleur glared them each down in turn. Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn't challenge her. She'd arrange a separate lunch with Ida later.

The drinks came around. Angelina eyed Hermione's whiskey wistfully. Hermione knocked their knees together subtly. Angelina elbowed her. Hermione drained her glass, then jumped at the sight of the man at the end of the table.

"Fancy meeting you here."

"Piss off!"

"Ladies Lunch! Lay-deez!"

"Charming, Ginervra. Lovely to see you all. I need her."

"You'll 'ave to wait an 'our," said Fleur. "No 'usbands, fiancé's, boyfriends or partners of any sort!"

There was a dark shadow across his face, and his short-cropped hair was wilder than usual. He did not take his eyes from Hermione.

"What happened?" Hermione's smile faded. Fred only shook his head. Hermione's stomach twisted. "This isn't funny-"

"I need to talk to you outside."

"Fred?" There was nothing on his face to indicate any sort of trick or scheme. Hermione felt herself begin to shake slightly. "Give me a minute, please."

Angelina and Fleur got up out of the booth to let Hermione out. Fred took her hand, kissing the back of it gently as he led her outside. She pulled them toward the alley, away from prying eyes. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of rot. "What happened?"

"Mum came to the shop," Fred took a deep breath. "Dad's finally figured out the phone he got. Your mother called not long after."

"Really?" Hermione stepped away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Hermione, love," his voice softened too much as he moved to reclaim the space between them. Hermione stared at him, willing numbness through her veins.

"I don't have time-"

"'Mione," Fred touched her cheek and kissed her forehead for a lingering moment, his arms slipping around her easier than breathing. "Your dad. He's in hospital. They say- Your mum says . . . It won't be long."

Hermione curled into him as a sob shook her. He held her gently. Her dad- her dad was- And she hadn't spoken to him since returning his memories to him near on a month ago, after Rookwood was jailed. A week in Melbourne and all she had to show for it was a father refusing to speak to her and a mother unsure of how and why she'd become another person entirely.

Not your choice, not your call, absolutely no right at all-

"Let's go get your things, love," said Fred.

"He- He doesn't want to see me-"

"You want to see him," Fred interrupted the stream of tears over her cheeks with rough but gentle hands. "Let's go, love."

He was unconscious. Her mother was a wreck.

"D- Drunk driver. On a Wednesday, no less!" She sobbed. Hermione held her upright, somehow. "Out- Out of no where, they said."

The doctor asked to speak to Hermione alone, but she brought Fred in case her magic decided to act up. It did that occasionally. She didn't like to tell anyone because it felt like bragging, to say 'oh, I've so much raw magic in my blood that if I don't perform magic regularly and I get emotional, I make electric lights burst and winds kick up from naught.' Harry knew, as she'd seen and heard of worse outbreaks from his end.

The doctor said that, given the way the car had crumpled around her father, it was a miracle they had gotten him out of the wreck alive. But the miracle was short-lived.

He was brain dead.

Fred asked for clarification while Hermione spiraled.

No right, not your call, how dare you even think about it-

"He will never recover," said the doctor. Hermione could not remember her name. "But, he has viable organs-"

"You ghoul-"

"Fred, it just means they can save more people," Hermione touched his shoulder gently. She whispered in his ear. "I'll explain it later." She addressed the doctor. "I'll have my mother sign for it all. We'll do it."

"Thank you," the doctor smiled, touching her arm softly. "I'm terribly sorry, Ms. Granger."

"How long do we have?" Hermione's voice broke. Fred's arm slipped around her waist, and he kissed the top of her head.

"End of the day would be best, but time is crucial."

Her mother nodded when Hermione told her. She cried. She signed all the necessary papers. Hermione held her when they wheeled the gurney away. She dragged Hermione to the floor with her when her knees gave out.

You have no right to make decisions about me.

The last words her father had ever spoken to her. Would ever speak to her.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. "I'm so sorry."

~m~

"Good morning," Fred groaned. Hermione was sprawled over his body, both of them naked from various activities the night before. Her dark eyes were watchful. He lifted his head to kiss her softly.

"There's unrest in Ireland," Hermione said. "I have to go to a conference."

Fred kissed her again. "I've to see to the Hogsmeade shop."

"I'll be gone for a week."

"Three days."

"I love you."

"Fancy that."

She swatted his chest and he laughed. "You're a total ass."

"You like my total ass."

"Idiot."

"An incredible idiot," Fred grinned. "The most incredible in all the lands."

"Marry me."

"Okay." He kissed her a third time. And a fourth. "I thought you'd never ask."

"I can't afford a scandal," Hermione murmured, humming against him. "And I really want a baby."

"I'm honored you want me to put it you," Fred smirked. A faint tinge of pink marked her cheeks. Lovely.

"I was considering a donor," said Hermione, her fingers trailing over his arm. "But then I thought—I enjoy having you in my bed so much that maybe you could be just a little more productive in it."

"How pragmatic," Fred settled his hands at her bare waist. "Shall I start now?"

"I'm not having a big to-do as a wedding, but by no means do I want a shotgun wedding," Hermione kissed his cheek. Fred wasn't entirely sure what a shotgun was, really, but the implication was clear.

"I think I can convince you."

"I think you're wrong."

"I think you're wrong."

"You can't just copy what I've said!"

"It's the truth," Fred twisted, putting her beneath him and settling over her. "You'd think you'd have learned to recognize when I'm right by now."

"It just happens so rarely."

"Witch."

"Wizard."

"I love you."

"Fancy that."

~m~

"I see our affair is kicking up once again," Hermione looked over the stack of reports, each already bearing at least four other signatures. The Haywood gang were kicking up trouble in Scotland again, too close to Hogwarts for her liking.

"Well, with Ginny pregnant, I have no where else to turn, I suppose," Harry fixed his glasses, scribbling his signature on a separate stack of reports. Hermione added her own signature, and moved each into the outgoing pile, ready to be sent to the Minister.

"You're supposed to sign those before you get to my office, you know," Hermione sighed. Their roles in the Ministry had changed over the years, but it wore faster on Harry. He had a grey streak running along one side of his head, just above the ear, from a curse he hadn't quite deflected in time. A second scar from a hex that'd nearly gotten one of his eyes, crawling like vines over one cheek, under his glasses, before disappearing into his eyebrow. It had a sheen to it sometimes that made Hermione and Ginny uncomfortable.

He was in the field less, as Head Auror, but with Ginny about ready to burst, she knew they were both considering a profession change. Hermione knew she was perfectly happy to stay the Head of Magical Law Enforcement until she was done trying to have kids. No sense being pregnant and Minister.

The current Minister had only eked out the votes with her support.

"Well, I'm just so excited about our extramarital affair that I was a bit rushed," Harry chuckled.

"I heard today that Fred has threatened to rip your spine from your back and beat you with it," Hermione said idly. "He's a terribly jealous man, you know."

"Ginny laments that we don't invite her," Harry shifted on his feet. "Pregnancy hormones. And. You know, all that."

Hermione laughed under her breath, "I'm quite familiar."

The door handle rattled. Hermione was unconcerned, though Harry stiffened. She had no other appointments for at least three and a half hours, and if this person had made it past four assistants and a personal secretary, along with half the Aurors in the bullpen preceding her office, Hermione was either about to die or see someone she wanted to.

Sure enough, a man with a two-year-old on his hip waltzed through the door. "Ms. Granger."

"Mr. Weasley," Hermion grinned. She came around her desk to kiss him, then smoothed their son's riotous copper curls away from his face. "Everything all right, love?"

"Mumma, Da being mean to me," said the boy. Hermione raised her eyebrows at Fred and pulled Jonathon Percival Weasley onto her own hip. Fred gave Harry an enthusiastic handshake.

"Hear you're back to screwing like rabbits," Fred grinned. Harry answered the smile with his own.

"Oh, you should be glad you arrived when you did. One more minute and the desk wouldn't be so sanitary."

"What makes you think it's sanitary now?"

"Fred!"

"Mumma what- what sammaterry?"

"It means 'clean,' darling." Hermione glared at her husband and best friend in turn. Fred shrugged and Harry smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, Ginny wants to have you over for dinner sometime within the next week," Harry said. Hermione kissed Jonathon's cheek lightly. "Grandmum's offered to take the baby."

"Not baby, Jon!" he protested. Hermione smiled at him.

"She's trying to steal him from us," Fred said severely. "She's taking him tonight too."

"Is she?"

"We have a dinner, love," Fred smiled proudly. Hermione lifted her eyebrows. "Reservations and all."

"I have a meeting at five-"

"That's why the reservation is for seven-thirty," Fred said. Hermione grinned slowly. "I have some experience with being married to the Head of Enforcement."

"Just some?" Harry snorted.

"I love you," Hermione said.

Harry pretended offense, but Hermione noted that he'd finally finished signing all his paperwork. He sniffed, "I thought what we had was special."

As he moved to leave, Jonathon wailed, "Uncle Harryyyyyyy!"

"How could I forget," Harry hit his forehead with his palm, then strode immediately to Hermione's side. He tickled Jonathon, then kissed his hair. "Bye, baby."

"Not baby!"

~m~

"Teddy and Victoire are snogging!"

"James," Ginny said sharply.

"What? They are."

"Isn't that illegal?" Rose looked up at Hermione with wide eyes. Her twin, Jenna, pinched the bridge of her nose.

"It's not illegal, idiot," James laughed. "They're not real cousins. Still, weird, innit?"

It would be, had none of them already come to terms with its inevitability. Been coming on for three years? Four? James just hadn't been old enough to notice. Fred glanced sideways at his eldest brother, whose protective gaze was affixed to the train despite his wife's murmurs against his throat. George and Angelina were running late with Xavier and Roxanne. It felt like a big year, but it was just because of the sheer number of kids being left at the station. Teddy's last year. Victoire's sixth. Jonathon's fifth. Xavier's fourth. James' third. Rose and Jenna's second. Dorian and Roxanne's first. That was what, nine? Nine. Gods, they were growing up too fast. Lily Luna only had two years before she'd be off as well.

"Don't call her an idiot, crumpet nose-"

"I'll set your hair on fire!"

"You couldn't set yourself on fire if you doused yourself in petrol and sparked a match!"

"Boys," Hermione said sharply. Fred watched Harry pause to help Dorian tie his shoe, away from the others. In his haste to look away from what was clearly one of those father-son moments Harry felt he'd sorely missed with Dorian lately, Fred caught sight of Jenna shooting a Stinging Jinx at James.

"Ow, you prick!"

"James!" Ginny stepped away from Lily, grabbing him by the ear. "Not acceptable!"

"Where's Ron at?" Bill called. Fred cursed, doing a quick head count of the kids. He'd known nine was wrong. There were twelve blood grandkids, after all. Fred stood on his toes, surveying the platform for another burst of red hair.

"That is your cousin, Jonathon. Apologize!"

"Sorry I hexed you, James."

"We'll go find Hugo!" Jenna offered quickly. Fred landed one hand on either twin's shoulder before they could take more than a step. Jenna looked up at him with a mixture of fear, pride, and guilt. He winked.

"You can stay right here. 'S'not like Ron to be late," said Fred.

"There's Dudley," Hermione waved, and the bigger man waved back. She leaned over to Ginny, "Daisy's a damned genius. Ten galleons says she'll run circles around this lot."

"Mum!"

Add Hugo and Daisy to the extended Weasley-Potter (or Evans, really) family tree, and there were eleven of them all off to Hogwarts this year, Hugo in his second as well.

"Well, this is sheer chaos," said George, finally pushing through the crowd to get behind Fred. He elbowed his brother from trying to sneak up on them.

"Seen Ron?" Hermione asked.

"He's having trouble convincing Emma to come through the wall," George said. "I suggested he just pick her up. She's still tiny."

"She's eight, she not that little," Lily said boldly. George smiled broadly at her.

"Don't," Ginny growled. George gave a saintly shrug as Roxanne grabbed one of his hands.

"I don't want to go," Roxanne whispered. "What if they're mean because of my hair?"

Roxanne had the most beautiful natural hair, tightly curled and dark as midnight. Angelina crouched down to kiss her cheek. "Your hair is beautiful, just like the rest of you. They used to make fun of my braids, honey, but you know what I did?"

"She beat them all on the pitch and in every duel she ever fought," Xavier said. He punched his own hand with a smacking sound. "Anyone says one mean thing to you 'cos of your hair, and I'll-"

"Responsibly report it to a Professor," Harry cut in with the sort of look that left no room for argument. Xavier nodded hastily.

Fred laughed.

"Dad, what if no one there wants to be my friend?" Dorian said quietly. Harry ruffled his hair.

"I'll be your friend, Dorian," Harry said. James groaned. "What?"

"That's so lame, Dad!"

"I don't want to sit with the boys," said Rose softly.

"We'll find Victoire, rescue her from Teddy," Jenna answered.

"You're making it hard to miss you," Ginny flicked James's ear. "Your father loves being a professor, and he's the second best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that school's ever seen."

"Right after Uncle Remus, we know," said James.

"I was thinking Umbridge," Fred remarked. Harry glowered. "Still touchy?"

"You would be, too," Hermione hit his side. "Off to the train, now, all of you. We'll send Hugo along."

The mass exodus began after a last round of hugs, Rose and Jenna coming to take Roxanne's hands before skipping off. Xavier, James, and Jonathon all pushed each other, jockeying about to see who'd climb up into the train first. Jonathon won.

Fred barely saw Hugo Redding-Weasley as he sprinted for the train, dragging a luggage cart behind him. Adrienne and Ron appeared, Emma between them, blue eyes red and watery, pale red hair mussed slightly. Adrienne's glossy blonde hair was perfectly straight, swaying slightly with every step.

"Nearly forgot the bloody owl again," Ron said. He looked around the station. "Fucking hell, do they all have to stare?"

"Language, Ronald," Adrienne said, shaking her head. "Honestly, what am I to do with you?"

Hermione shuffled into Fred's side, and he draped his arm over her shoulders. She wrapped both of hers around his waist.

The train disappeared, and the crowd of parents dissipated quickly. Dudley came over to have an animated and focused conversation with Harry about how Hogwarts functioned, a conversation Fred was certain he'd already witnessed twice. The girls pranced off to explore the platform, Ginny and Adrienne watching hawkishly.

Fred watched the Malfoys approach. It was hard, sometimes, to reconcile the boy Draco Malfoy had been at Hogwarts and the man he now was. "Minister."

"Draco, Astoria," Hermione said. "How did Scorpio do?"

"Better than I thought he would, honestly," Astoria smiled.

"I have some business to discuss with you," Draco said. "All this Brexit nonsense-"

"I know," Hermione groaned. "Believe me, I know. I'm the one who has to talk with the Prime Minister about it all!"

"In private, Draco," Astoria muttered. "She's not working right now. You have an appointment."

"Right, sorry," Draco cleared his throat.

"It can be moved up," Hermione said. "If it's urgent."

"I'll talk to Janine," Draco nodded. He and Astoria walked a proper distance away before disapparating.

"It never ends, does it?" Fred asked. Hermione stood on her toes and kissed him.

"Some things don't. Brexit's only two years, and then it'll be done."

"You all right, Harry?"

"Yeah."

Fred leaned down to kiss Hermione again. "You know, with the kids out of the house . . ."

"What?"

"I can finally fuck you on the table again," Fred hummed.

"You're so lucky I'm good at cleaning charms."

"I'm so lucky generally," Fred grinned. "Not as lucky as you, but-"

"I'm going to divorce you," Hermione laughed.

"Hmm, that would add hate-fucking to our repertoire, wouldn't it?"

Bill smacked the side of his head as he passed. "Stop being a degenerate, Fred."

He stuck out his tongue at Bill's back. "I happen to be happily married!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let's go home."

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

Hermione Granger and Fred Weasley left King's Cross Station hand in hand, smiling at one another, having been happily together for twenty-two years.

.o0O0o.

Hey, y'all. Now, I'm not sure if you noticed, but I've been writing this for years. Years. Like, I was fourteen when I started writing this. Fifteen when I finally got around to publishing the first chapter. Which means I've become a better writer, and like, a real person. I've grown up a lot since I started. There was a mass shooting in my town. I was sexually assaulted. I was physically restrained from starting a fight at work with a customer. I was shoved by a stranger and the brawl that ensued involved over twenty people. I've seen three different therapists. My favorite teacher committed suicide. I've cleaned up blood from a two inch gash in someone's forehead. I got my driver's license. I put down my fourteen-year-old golden retriever. I voted for the first time. I had a panic attack or five. I lost twenty pounds in a little under two months because I couldn't remember to eat. I had sex. Like, more than once. The Marine was better than the Soldier. I wrote an original book or two. Not published yet, or publishable, but getting there. I passed out after giving blood. I learned I'm ADHD as a motherfucker. I got two tattoos. Got my hands shut in a 500F oven. Made a sex joke in front of my mother. I got a golden retriever puppy, now a few months old. She's fucking cute guys, lil bappy. 4.0 in high school, 3.92 in college thus far (damn you Calc II!). I drank whiskey, and some other things, and smoked weed. But I didn't drive afterwards and neither should you! Got a new laptop, two new phones, lived in three different places. Nannied and babysat and dogsat and taught summer school and worked nights. Moved my sister across the country. Switched majors and minors and majors again. For a while I thought running my car into a tree was the best solution to all my problems.

All of this is a very elaborate way of apologizing and attempting to explain why I stopped updating frequently. The real kicker is that sexual assault thing? He was a ginger. I can't see a guy with his build and hair color in public without having an anxiety attack. And guess who matches that description? Yeah, Fred fucking Weasley. Which makes it very hard to try to write someone being in love with or romantic with or sexual with that sort of guy. So, as much as I originally planned for this story to go on and on and on, I can't. I tried my hardest not to rush the ending, I really truly did. I'll probably go back and edit the chapter before this one to make it right and good. But, this is it. The End.

Thank you all so much. Every comment and follow and like kept me going in some truly dark times. Anyone who enjoyed this: I love you. I love that we share this rarepair OTP or even just ship. To this day I still get squealy when I see edits for Fremione. Thanks for hanging in there, for binging, for rereading and waiting and waiting and waiting.

Brief plug for my Jily fic. It out there. I think I called it 'Thus, It Begins' because I suck at naming stories (case in point this one). I've got it mostly written. Gonna be much shorter than this. I'm on Archive of Our Own as rWolfWrites. Doing most my stuff there.

So, all in all, I love y'all, I thank y'all, and I apologize.

Yeah, that's it. Uh, bye. Thanks. Heart you cos FF still won't allow symbols.

Asmart23: You requested more, no?

Guest: Staying up til 3am, while relatable, is not recommended. Take care of yourself!

Lady Lyanna Mormont: First of all, kudos on your giant wight kill. Secondly, glad I could convert you to Fremionism! It is the one true way!

Atilia Dawn Black: Sorry I didn't really do much of a reveal, always came out way too dramatic or campy or just meh. Thanks for (re)reading!

Catrowline: You need to go back and read your comment because I have been dying laughing every damn time I think about it. True comedic gold, good luck getting your heart back together.

ForeverTeamEdward13: Not quite soon but not an abandoned fic so can you really complain? Also: Jacob was attracted to the egg in Bella that became Renesme and he didn't come to the wedding because he got weirdly attracted to Edward because that's when the sperm that became her developed. Also, rumor has it men with big dicks have sons so guess what that says about ole Eddie?

Sorry, like I said, ADHD as a motherfucker.

roon0: I'm glad you commented!

Shangeorgiamarie: I might go back and add more detail with Bellatrix. I had it in the original but I wrote that bit years ago and didn't like it and didn't want to rewrite it.

Hollowg1rl: Ahhhhhh thank you for your emotions, I crave them lol!

Guest (2): You're welcome, I try to do my best.

Infernalbooks: Our journey is over. You can rest now. It'll be okay.

Fandomqueen104: YOU CALLED IT A BOOK I'M DEAD VALIDATION GETS NO BETTER AHHHHHHHHH Also I'm pretty sure you literally threatened me not to kill off Fred.

123a456e: Yeah, people die. Lots of people. Kinda brushed over considering they were 'kids' books.

LAWDgivemestrength: You observant reader you. Most my references to the book are done reading the chapter, writing, then editing it so the dialogue matches. That last chapter was a little rushed, and I couldn't find my copy of Deathly Hallows (gods know why) so I just sort of had to wing it.

OKAY READING ALL YOUR COMMENTS IS MAKING ME WANT TO REDO THIS WHOLE FUCKING THING BUT BARRING ANY DRASTIC CHANGES OR BURSTS OF OBSCENE INSPIRATION

fin