(A/N Hey guys! In response to my last note, I'd like to apologize for asking for reviews - it WAS pretty rude of me and I'm very, very, sorry *pouts* thanks for being loyal and getting me reviews anyway!

This chapter is a little different and longer than the last - I just thought we need some relief before the gathering storm *wicked grin*

As for the canon whores who just decided to show up...*yawn* Perhaps you should follow the advice of your Patron Goddess and "go back and reread" because you'll find I'm writing the redheads quite in character

Once again, thank you Raquelle for your magnificent beta'ing!)

Harry kissed her again and again as they wandered back from the streets, hand in hand – every time he looked at her he caught the way her eyes shone in the darkness, or the way the lamplight glinted off her hair, Harry knew he just had to have her. She, too, would surprise him with her kisses, which pressed against his cheek, his hair, and his lips like the softest of rose petals.

When they finally arrived home, they took a moment from their amorous intentions to check on the children. First, they went to see Harry's children – for no matter what that Weasley bitch said, they would always be his children – and saw they were all tucked in, the moonlight shining across their faces and bathing them in a celestial glow. A quick look into the guest bedroom left Hermione nearly in tears; to see Rose and Hugo curled up in their twin beds, smiling gently, the age brought on by years of torment and abuse dropped from their faces…it brought on a swell of unimaginable relief within her breast, and she fell against Harry for support.

He picked her up and carried her into the master bedroom as a bridegroom would his new bride. And indeed, it was a marriage of sorts. Perhaps not a marriage of legality, where mere words on a piece of paper and a mere shower of sparks would bond one to another, but a marriage of spirit, where that most holy and sacred of acts, performed in love, would meld two kindred souls together into an unbreakable force.

The bedroom itself was sumptuous. Decorated in dark, Gryffindor colors, the bed was made of mahogany, burnished like a throne. Rich red velvet curtains hung from its four posts, while above the charmed engravings of lions and dolphins cavorted across the intricately carved ceiling. Harry noticed that Mary must have sensed what would occur between the two, for she had brought all of Hermione's things to his bedroom.

Harry placed her gently, tenderly on the bed after leaving one last kiss on her lips. "Hermione," he said softly, gazing lovingly into her chocolate brown eyes. "I know this will sound tremendously old fashioned, but would you prefer it if we waited a bit before…before going through with this?"

"Why?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"I…I don't feel ready for it just yet. I've been through so much today, and so have you, and I want to take this one step at a time. We can sleep here together tonight, side by side, but as for that…I simply want to wait."

Hermione, in a voice full of newfound understanding, replied, "Of course we can wait, darling. It's almost like losing your virginity again, isn't it? You know it's so important, that you don't want just to share it with the person you love you want everything to be right – the moment, the mood, everything."

Harry grinned. Somehow, Hermione always managed to understand what he wanted to say. He knew, there and then, that she was the only one for him, that all else had been hopeless fumbling and blustering towards the light that now shone before him.

He kissed her one last time, deep and long. "Now if you'll excuse me, Mrs. Potter, I must get ready for bed."

When he returned from his walk-in closet in his silk pajamas, Hermione had already wrapped herself in a soft nightgown that clung to her curves in a way Harry longed to mimic. But he was nothing if not a gentleman, and that would have to wait.

She climbed gracefully into the bed; her hair spread like a burnt sienna storm across the pillow, and she turned to him, smiling. As he got into bed beside her she snuggled close, wrapping her arm around the firmness of his chest and kissing him gently on his neck.

"Until tomorrow, Mr. Potter."

"Until tomorrow, Mrs. Potter."

The next morning, Hermione awoke to the smell of freshly-made French toast and delicious hot coffee. As she went down the stairs and into the dining room, she found Harry sitting at the head of the dining room table, grinning.

"Mary's getting the children ready to go. I already explained the situation to them, and I think they've taken it quite well."

Children's feet came running down the stairs as Lily, followed by Rose, rushed in.

Lily immediately ran into Hermione, clutching at the skirt of her nightgown, wide eyes looking up in astonishment. "Is it true you're going to be our mummy now?"

Hermione looked down at her, and felt her eyes mist over in tenderness. "Yes, sweetheart, I will. And I hope I'll be the best mummy I can be."

Lily buried her face in her skirt. "I'm glad! I didn't like my old mummy. She was mean and she didn't like us one bit. She always said we were getting in her way, and we got her fat."

Hermione tried and failed to stifle a laugh. Rose now came up to her.

"Is Mr. Potter going to be our daddy now? Are we going away forever and ever?"

Hermione, now choked with emotion, could only nod yes.

Rose raised her hands to her mouth in two tiny fists, unable to speak for excitement.

Harry broke in. "Rose, why don't you and Lily go get your brothers down here so that we can have breakfast?"

Rose and Lily rushed back upstairs while Harry continued. "I sent an owl to Gringotts this morning and just got word back from them – they'll have the Black and Potter fortunes moved to their Paris branch by the end of the day. I've already made arrangements for a boat to take us to the Chateau de Noir, and they'll have a ride ready to take all of our things there. Mary should be getting the children's things packed right now, and I'll have my own clothes packed in a jiffy." He reached tenderly towards her. "My only concern right now is you. Forgive me for intruding on your privacy, dearest, but I had a look at the rags in your bag and, well, I can't imagine you walking around in those…things. I'd give you some of Ginny's clothes, but I'm afraid she took them all."

Hermione shook her head. "Even if you had them, I'd never take them. I couldn't imagine walking around in her kind of clothes. I'll just wait until we get to France and I'll buy some new things."

Harry was about to speak again, but he was interrupted by the children, followed by Mary, scrambling into the room, ready for breakfast.

Throughout the meal of French toast, bacon, scrambled eggs and scones, Rose and Lily couldn't stop talking. Was it true they were going on a trip? Was it true they were going to live in a castle? Was it true they were going to a new school that was even better than Hogwarts? Harry and Hermione tried to keep up with their interrogation, but every answer they gave just prompted twenty more questions.

"It's just like a fairy tale!" Lily bubbled happily. "Where the prince comes to rescue the princess and everyone in the kingdom rejoices and they all live happily ever after!"

Hermione smiled, her eyes getting misty again, and tightly grasped Harry's hand under the table. Yes, she thought to herself. It really is like a fairy tale, and it will all end happily ever after.

By the time they had finished packing, the Wizarding taxi had arrived to take them all to the wharf. When they arrived, Hermione and the children gasped – waiting to take them to France was a beautiful, forty-meter yacht.

Harry grinned. "Beautiful, isn't it? We're just renting it for the trip, but I could buy it if you want. I'm sure it would make a lovely vessel for cruising up and down the Loire."

"Oh, could we? Could we?" Rose blurted out before Hermione could shush her.

Harry laughed. "All right, love. But let's take it on a test run before we buy it."

By the time Harry finished his sentence, the children had already run inside. Laughing, Harry and Hermione followed them.

The interior was just as wonderful as Hermione imagined it – soft white carpeting, golden teakwood paneling and furniture, and wide windows on either side looking out into the blue waters of the Atlantic.

The captain was waiting for them, sitting on a lounge chair with a drink in his hand. "Morning," he said, toasting the two. "No worries – this drink is completely non-alcoholic." To Hermione, the captain looked like he'd simply stepped out of an ad for a cruise line: tall, lean, hair weathered to a fine shade of silver, and a chiseled face from which two bright blue eyes twinkled.

He stood up to shake their hands. "I'm Captain Peppard. Second Mate Copley's in the bridge at the wheel now and, ah, here's First and Third Mates Cooper and Jackson, now."

Harry and Hermione turned to the spiral staircase in the corner that the children had just run up, to see two more men emerging from the lower floors of the ship. The first could have been Peppard's son – a handsome tanned face with sparkling blue eyes and tousled dark brown hair, connected to a fit young body. The other was black and compact, with muscles visible under his vest and black turtleneck, and he wore a knitted blue hat despite being indoors.

"First Mate Cooper, at your service," the first man said with a grin. "And of course, this is Third Mate Jackson." He motioned to the other.

As they all shook their hands, Harry couldn't help but ask, "Where is the rest of the crew?"

Captain Peppard let out a chuckle as he took a cigar out of his pocket. "Us four are all the crew you need, Mr. Potter. My team is the best of the best." He lit the cigar.

Hermione was about to ask what sort of experience qualified the four of them to run a boat this huge, but she felt the boat start. The boat was of course enchanted with an Anti-Inertia charm, but she was still shocked by the view of the dock through the window suddenly disappearing to be replaced by a blur of sea and sky.

"Goodness! Isn't your pilot going awful fast?"

Jackson let out a snort. "You should've been here when he was bringing the boat around. This is driving in neutral for him."

Cooper rolled his eyes. "Jackson isn't exactly a fan of Copley's driving skills. Don't worry, he knows what he doing, he just doesn't show it some of the time."

"More like all of the time," Jackson retorted.

Cooper looked ready to give a rebuttal, but then shrugged in defeat. "True enough. C'mon, we better go downstairs to make sure he doesn't blow the engine out."

The two headed back down the steps, leaving Hermione to sink down on the couch in exhaustion. Harry and the captain likewise took seats in the chairs opposite her.

"So, if you don't mind," Peppard said, vanishing his cigar's ash from the carpet with a flick of his wand. "Would you care to tell me your story?"

"I'd…rather not," Harry said, after a pause. "Let us just say we're fugitives from laws masquerading as justice."

"Boy, do I know that feeling." Peppard grinned. "You have my sympathies."

Suddenly, a booming voice came over the intercom. "GOOOOOOOOOD afternoon passengers! This is your pilot speaking, telling you we are coming into the mouth of the Lou-Are faster than a – "

Peppard yanked a hand mirror out of his pocket in a flash. "Copley!" he yelled into it, "You better think very carefully about what you're going to say next!"

"– horse into an open barn, that's all I was sayin' boss," Copley replied over the intercom, voice full of innocence.

Peppard let out a sarcastic chuckle. "If you say so."

"I must say, you and your men are certainly…interesting." Hermione said, finally able to speak after the oddness of it all.

"Well, like I said, we're an odd bunch, but–"

He was cut off by a sudden jerk of the boat to the left, sending him and his chair flying into Harry's, knocking both of them to the floor. Hermione was luckier; she'd simply slid to the end of the couch, hitting the arm of the couch.

Over the intercom, she could hear Copley's voice as well as to her dawning horror, the voices of the children cheering, "Do it again! Do it again!"

"Passengers," Copley began, "We are experiencing difficulty with the Anti-Inertia charm. However, please feel free to move about the cabin, and enjoy this tour of the Lou-Are River."

The boat speed forward, sending the three (and the rest of the furniture in the room) rocketing to the back. "Now as you can see," Copley continued, infuriatingly cheerful, "This river runs past Nantes and Angers – "

As Hermione fumbled to find her wand to perform the counter-spell, the boat shot into the air, and she slid off the couch. Through the mirror, she saw water rapidly receding from the boat's bottom as it flew over a bridge. For one moment the furniture and the three of them floated in the air as the boat fell to the water, only to come crashing back to the ground once the boat hit river.

"– from a swerve around Tours –"

The boat suddenly tilted to the side, sending people and furniture piled on the left window in a heap. Hermione, her face smushed against the glass, was looking deep into the water as Copley now pulled a sharp right turn.

"– to a bend at Orleans –"

The boat had finally come down from its tilt – only to rear up, performing what Hermione could only imagine was a nautical wheelie. Below, she could hear Jackson bellowing, "YOU TRYIN' TO KILL ME AGAIN, FOOL?"

"– which brings us by Chassy via Vauvise –"

While still in the wheelie the left side to hit something, sending the boat into the air spiraling. Captain Peppard, Harry, and Hermione (the former cursing like a sailor, the latter trying not to throw up), along with the rest of the furniture, tumbled around the middle of the boat as Copley did barrel roll after barrel roll.

"– of Region Cen-tre! Here we are! Cha-toe de Noor! Entering the har-"

The boat pulled out of its sixteenth or seventeenth barrel roll (Hermione had lost count) to land with one last crash in the river.

" – bor!"

The boat sedately pulled up to the stone pier leading to the castle. Harry, Hermione, and the Captain all lay in a jumble in the center of the room, furniture scattered around them. Hermione, wand finally in her hand, managed to perform a Nausea Banishment spell on herself and Harry before they both rose to their feet. The Captain, picking himself from the wreckage, did not seem to need one. Indeed, standing there dusting off his uniform, he treated the whole ride as nothing more than a slight bump on a riverbank.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," he said mildly, lighting another cigar. "If you want to, though, the bridge is just up those stairs." He nodded to a second set of stairs near the front of the ship. "You can have a word with our pilot there."

"Oh, I certainly will," Hermione said, her temper flaring. In a few steps she had covered the distance between her and the steps, rushing up them with Harry close behind.

The bridge was a circular room, with windows completely surrounding it. The children were wandering around in the center, giggling from their dizziness. The pilot himself sat at the front over panel after panel of buttons, still laughing. He was brown-haired and tan like Cooper, but shorter, with a longer nose and hair that stuck out at odd angles from underneath his sailor hat. In fact, Hermione realized, he was wearing a complete old-fashioned dark blue sailor suit, with white ascot and trimmings.

He gave her a cheeky smile. "Enjoy your trip, ma'am?"

"Enjoy?" Hermione fumed. "Did you think I'd enjoy being tossed around like a rag doll?"

"Don't blame me," he interrupted, blue eyes widening to give a Bambi-like expression. "Was the kids that wanted it. And if you pardon my language, ma'am, this whole 'Anti-Inertia' stuff's for pussies. When I'm drivin' a boat, I wanna feel like I'm drivin' a boat, not playin' some dumbass video game."

Hermione was about to retort with a few choice words when Harry gently took her arm. "Come on, 'Mione. We're at our new home, let's just get out and get settled."

Hermione let out her breath. He was right, it wasn't worth it. She turned to the children.

"Let's go, kids. It's time to move in to our new home."

In a flash, the kids had bolted down the stairs, and she could hear them running to the door of the ship. She and Harry followed them downward and out, where Peppard waited on to send them off. Behind him, she could see Jackson and Cooper handing their luggage off to a small group of house-elves who had descended from the castle, Jackson tinged a shade of green that almost perfectly matched the house-elves' skin.

"Thank you for riding with us, sir," Peppard said, shaking Harry and Hermione's hands one more time. "I hope we'll see each other again."

And I will make very sure that we won't, Hermione thought bitterly as she took her hand away from his. When Harry and she turned to look up at the imposing castle before them, Peppard spoke one last time.

"If you ever need any help – I'm sure you can find us."

I don't know if I'd want your kind of help, Hermione thought, walking up the stairs with Harry to her new home and her new life. But I know I'll definitely need some kind.