Stranded (Harry Potter AU) (Complete)

Chapter 44: The Normal Life

King’s Cross Station, London, Britain, September 1st, 1996

Ron Weasley smiled. Finally, an empty compartment! “Found one!” he announced to his friends.

“Great!” Lavender beamed at him as she followed him inside.

“Well, we were bound to find one as long as we continued down the train,” Hermione said.

“Just hurry inside!” Harry muttered. “And then we can lock the door!”

Ron pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t chuckle. Even though it was funny.

“I told you we should hex some of them,” Hermione said as she stepped inside. “Pour encourager les autres.” She turned and cast a spell at the door. Not a locking charm, so… ah, a privacy charm. Ron had seen her cast it before.

“Shouldn’t that be ‘discourage’ in this case?” Lavender asked. “And no hexing! As prefect, Ron would have to deduct points from our house for that.”

“Right.” Ron nodded.

“Encourage fits - we want to encourage people to keep their distance,” Hermione replied with a scowl. “What’s wrong with them? They barely cared about either of us before, but now, suddenly, we’re supposed to be their best friends?”

“Well, you’re famous,” Lavender said with a shrug, waving her wand to stash her trunk above them. “Your latest interview didn’t help, of course.”

“Asking for the worldwide abolition of slavery tends to make waves,” Ron agreed. “Percy told me that there have been inquiries from a dozen other countries about it.”

“They should simply ask Dumbledore,” Harry said. “He’s the Supreme Mugwump.”

“He didn’t give the interview; you two did,” Lavender pointed out before leaning into Ron’s side with a smile.

“On his orders,” Hermione said.

“And with clear instructions - we even rehearsed our lines,” Harry added.

“Twice.” Hermione scoffed. “And the whole thing was about as harmless as it could be. Asking for the abolition of slavery was the only controversial line in it. We didn’t even ask for any concrete action.”

“Well, many countries remember Dumbledore’s ‘grand tour’ after Grindelwald’s War,” Ron pointed out. The Headmaster hadn’t actually toppled any government, at least as far as Ron knew, but he had certainly intervened in more than one country.

“And he knew that,” Harry admitted. “That’s why he was so adamant about our lines.”

“That’s the price of being famous,” Ron told him with a grin.

Both Harry and Hermione glared at him. “There are just too many countries where slavery is legal,” Hermione spat as she took her seat. Not even Harry wrapping his arm around her and planting a kiss on her cheek made her smile.

“And that will change,” Harry said.

“Well, Fleur said that the French are all fired up for a war,” Ron told them.

“What?”

“I didn’t read about that in the newspapers!” Hermione protested.

“It’s all over the Tribune Magique,” he explained. “I’ve seen the headlines myself.”

“And the Prophet didn’t even mention it! Typical!”

“The Ministry’s stance is ‘don’t rock the boat’, as usual,” Harry said. “And the Prophet does what the Ministry wants.”

“And the Ministry does what the Headmaster wants,” Ron added. “Not that he usually asks anything of them.”

“Maybe he should,” Hermione muttered with a scowl. Then she sighed and leaned back, closing her eyes. “I’m just glad we’re back at Hogwarts and won’t have to watch our backs as much any more.”

“Careful - Malfoy is bound to try something,” Lavender said. “I’ve heard from Parvati that everyone thinks that he’s been fancying both of you for years.”

“They can’t be serious!” Hermione objected with a grimace.

“I’m sure many know it’s not true - but it’s such a fine rumour.” Lavender grinned widely. “And with you two being a couple, many say that anything is possible!”

“Except for the Cannons winning the cup.” Harry smirked.

Ron frowned at his friend. The Cannons had a chance! Not the best odds, but anything was possible in Quidditch, with a bit - or a lot - of luck. “We’ll see about that,” he said. “But back to our two celebrities. Did anyone ask you for an autograph?”

“No,” Hermione spat.

“One of the Creevey brothers seemed like he wanted to ask something, but we blew past them,” Harry said. He looked around. “Where’s Ginny?”

“She said she’s taking a compartment with Luna. I told her we have room for her, but…” Ron shrugged. “They probably don’t want to deal with your fans,” he added with a grin.

Hermione snorted. “I bet they will get more questions wherever they are than with us.”

Ron nodded. “Probably.” On the other hand, Ginny wasn’t shy to hex anyone who annoyed her. “We’ll know when we see bat-boogers flying through the train.”

Lavender giggled at that. “Will Neville join us?”

Harry shrugged. “Probably. Or he’s sitting with Seamus and Dean. But I haven’t seen him around so far.”

“As long as we have some peace and quiet, I’m happy with whatever,” Hermione said.

As if someone had heard them despite their privacy charm, they heard a knock on the door. A moment later, it was opened, and Fay Dunbar stuck her head inside. “There you are!” She beamed at Ron, and he felt Lavender tighten her grip on his arm. “I just wanted to remind you that we’ve got the prefect’s meeting as soon as we leave the station. Oh, hi, Lavender. Hi, Harry. Hi, Hermione! How are you doing?”

Ron narrowed his eyes. His fellow prefect hadn’t done that last year. Granted, that had been their first trip as prefects, but…

“We’re fine,” Hermione said. “Just a little stressed by all those hangers-on.”

“Oh? Well, if you get bothered, just tell me. Or Ron. We’re going to deal with it.” Fay nodded. “So, any other trouble?”

Ron had seen more subtle fishing for information from Malfoy. He shook his head. “No, we’re fine.”

Fay pouted for a moment, then nodded. “Until later, then!”

Ron suppressed a sigh when the door closed behind his fellow prefect. Lavender was scowling - no surprise there; she didn’t like Fay. Or rather, she didn’t like that Fay and Ron had to patrol together. Even though Fay hadn’t actually… well, she was always friendly, never grumpy, but that was it. She hadn’t tried to kiss Ron or anything.

“Bet she’s trying to pump you for information as soon as you’re on the way,” Lavender muttered.

“I’m not taking that bet,” Hermione replied. “Of course she’s going to do that.”

Right. Hermione was in the same dorm, after all. “Well, I’m not going to tell her anything,” Ron declared.

“Maybe you should,” Hermione told him. “Otherwise, they’ll make up worse rumours.”

“Good point,” Harry said, nodding. “Just stick to what’s in the articles. In the Prophet,” he added.

“I’m not going to talk about The Quibbler,” Ron assured him. No matter what Luna might say.

“You shouldn’t even talk to Fay at all,” Lavender grumbled.

He pulled her closer to him and placed a kiss on her head. She shifted in response and pulled his head down for a proper snog.

Harry coughed.

Ron rolled his eyes as he pulled back. “Oh, as if you never snogged in front of us!”

That made them blush, at least. And Lavender giggle.

*****​

“So… what’s up with Harry and Hermione?” Fay asked as soon as the door to the compartment had closed and they were walking to the front of the train, where the meeting with the Head Boy and Head Girl would be held. “I’ve read the Prophet, but…” She shrugged. “It’s the Prophet.”

Exactly how Lavender had suspected. Ron shrugged. “Shouldn’t you ask Hermione that?”

Fay chuckled. “Really? Would you ask her about her love life?”

Of course Ron wouldn’t! Well, probably not - he had spent a lot of time with Harry and her since their ordeal, after all, and while he wouldn’t say that they were best friends, they weren’t exactly strangers. Certainly more than mere acquaintances. Still, someone’s love life wasn’t exactly a subject you just picked for casual conversation.

So he shrugged. “I would ask Harry if I thought it was my business. Which I don’t.”

“Really?” she repeated herself, shaking her head with a smile. “Of course he told you already, right?”

“If he did, I’m not going to betray his confidence,” Ron told her with a frown as they entered the next car.

“Of course not!” She fell silent for a moment, and they passed two second years from Hufflepuff waiting in front of the loo. “But you’ve read the articles as well, right?”

“Yes.”

“So… is it true?”

Ron took a deep breath. “They did kill a wyvern. And they did fight the pirates. Got chased by them, sank the pirates’ ship, freed a young witch and escaped the island.”

“Oh! And they are a couple?”

Was that what she wanted to know? Ron glanced at her. She looked quite eager. Great. He nodded. “Yes, they became a couple on the island.”

“Oh! How romantic!”

Well, that was one word for it. “They’re a pretty normal couple,” Ron said with another shrug. Except for them sleeping together every night, but that wasn’t something he’d tell anyone.

“Really? Normal? Those two? You don’t think they tried to hex each other, and they miscast a curse and fell in love instead?”

Where had she heard that? That was… “Dumbledore examined both of them for any curses,” Ron told her. It probably hadn’t been the Headmaster himself, but that should shut her up. Maybe Lavender had had the right idea...

They stepped into the next car - the last car before the engine. And there was the prefects’ compartment.

“Finally. Always late, are you, Weasley? You didn’t get stranded on a pirate island, did you?”

And Malfoy and Parkinson. As expected.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Wow, Malfoy, what a stupid question! I’d ask if you had been too long out in the sun over the summer, but you’re as pale as always. So, that’s probably just you being stupid as usual.”

“Why you…!”

“Simmer down!” the new Head Girl, Brockleturn from Hufflepuff, snapped. “Merlin’s beard! Don’t start trouble on the first day! We’re not going to tolerate that!”

“I’m not starting anything,” Ron said.

“Potter and Granger are the ones who always start trouble!” Parkinson claimed.

“Not any more!” Fay said as she sat down. “They’re a couple!”

“Really?”

“Wow!”

“I don’t believe it!”

“Did you see that yourself?”

“Did they snog?”

“But it’s the Prophet!”

“The Quibbler said the same!”

“But that’s The Quibbler!”

Ron almost took a step back out of the compartment at the ruckus Fay’s announcement had created. Had they all gone mad?

“Quiet!” The Head Girl brandished her wand. “We’re not here to gossip about the Prophet or The Quibbler!”

Ron smiled as he took his seat. At least the Head Girl - the Head Boy, a Ravenclaw Ron didn’t know, had been remarkably silent - had her head screwed on straight.

Until the girl leaned forward and faced him. “But they’re right - Potter and Granger are the worst troublemakers. So, what’s up with them? I need to know if we need to keep them under observation.”

Ron refrained from groaning. Great. Just great.

*****​

Hogwarts, September 1st, 1996

Harry Potter was getting tired of all the glances and looks and stares. No, he was already past ‘tired’ and quickly reaching ‘annoyed’ as he stepped into the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast.

“It’s as if they hadn’t seen a couple before,” he muttered. That Malfoy was glaring at him was expected, especially after what Ron had told them about the git’s reaction. But everyone else?

Hermione, at his side, whispered back: “Yes. I feel a little like a celebrity hounded by the press.”

“If anyone is taking pictures, I’ll hex him,” Harry promised. Their ‘therapist’ - even though Miss Vance insisted that she wasn’t a therapist, ‘just someone who knows what you went through and won’t tell your parents’ - would understand that.

“We just have to ride out our fifteen minutes of fame.”

“Huh?”

“A comment by Andy Warhol about fleeting fame,” Hermione explained.

“Ah.” Harry remembered hearing something like that at Auntie Petunia’s.

They took their… well, not their customary seats at the Gryffindor table. Usually, they sat as far apart as possible. No longer, of course.

Though that triggered more whispers. Harry glared at their fellow Gryffindors. They really should know better! Hell, Dean, Seamus and Katie had been at his birthday party but were still gossiping… He blinked. “Is Seamus trying to impress Fay with gossip about us?”

Hermione frowned as she looked down the table. “It’s possible.”

Fay was looking back and forth between Seamus and them, in any case. “I’ll have a talk with him,” Harry growled.

“Just let it go,” Hermione told him as Ron and Lavender joined them, followed by Neville.

“Let what go?” Ron asked.

“Seamus is trying to use us to chat up Fay,” Harry explained.

“Oh.” Lavender turned her head. “He is!”

She seemed strangely happy about that, Harry noted.

“Well, the whole thing should quickly die down now that we’re back at Hogwarts,” Hermione said. “Without further interviews, and everyone able to see for themselves that we aren’t some… exotic, famous couple.”

She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself, in Harry’s opinion. He hoped that she was correct. Harry almost wanted to cast a Disillusionment Charm… No. He wouldn’t be hiding like that. He had faced a wyvern and a band of pirates. A little staring and whispering was nothing.

He still was relieved when McGonagall led the new first years into the Great Hall, and the sorting drew the attention of everyone away from Harry and Hermione.

*****​

“You want a lookout?” The elf - Jabby - smiled widely. “For tête-à-têtes? Ohh!”

Harry Potter couldn’t help glancing around, even though he had checked with Sirius’s new map that they were alone and Hermione had cast another privacy spell.

“We want to be able to spend every night together,” Hermione said.

Jabby nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes! Jabby can do that. But that’s a huge task! Have to fool the Headmaster, great Dumbledore, and all the professors!”

“The Headmaster is informed,” Harry told him. “He’s tacitly approving.” At least that was what Mum had told them. And unlike Sirius, Mum wouldn’t stretch the truth.

“‘Tacitly approving’?” The elf tilted his head to the side, past his shoulder - it wasn’t as impressive as Hedwig managed, but it was still disturbing.

“He knows what we are planning and hasn’t done anything to stop us,” Hermione explained.

“Shady!” the elf exclaimed with glee.

“Yes, shady,” Harry agreed. “So, what do you want in exchange for serving as a lookout?” He really hoped that this elf didn’t want to dress them up in woollen underwear.

“Oh!” The elf studied them, tapping a long index finger against his lips. “Hm.”

Harry suppressed the urge to sigh. Never let them see how eager you are, Sirius had told them.

“Oh! Your Hogsmeade Weekends!”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“Jabby can make plans! Great plans! Visits to Honeydukes, pubs and tea rooms! Itinerary! Dress codes!”

Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione. That sounded… excessive. On the other hand, having to wear woollen underwear - or worse - for the rest of their time at Hogwarts wasn’t appealing either.

“Not every weekend!” Hermione said. “Every second. And only half the weekend!”

“Every weekend, but one hour free!”

After twenty minutes, they had managed to bargain Jabby down to every Hogsmeade weekend, but only six hours on a Saturday.

And everyone would think that they had spent the time snogging.

*****​

An hour later, Harry was in his bed. Which felt empty without Hermione next to him. Cold, lonely… He snorted. He was at Hogwarts, in his dorm. Hermione was just a few stairs away. And she would soon join him. Or so he hoped. She might get held up by the others in her dorm, asking her questions about them.

Since all his dormmates had been at his birthday party, that wasn’t a problem for Harry. Seamus had made a few comments and had asked a few stupid questions, but that had been it. Dean hadn’t really cared, Ron already knew everything - almost everything - and Neville hadn’t asked any stupid questions either.

He pulled the map Sirius had given him out and checked it. Hermione was still in her dorm. And Lavender and the others were gathered around her. Damn, as he had suspected.

Sighing, he leaned back. They had to wait until the others were asleep before Hermione could join him. This could be a long night.

*****​

Hogwarts, September 2nd, 1996

“So, Potter. I heard you had an eventful summer.”

Hermione Granger rolled her eyes. What a way to start the term! They hadn’t even entered the Great Hall yet for breakfast, and Malfoy was already bothering them.

“Wow, Malfoy! You read the Prophet?” Harry smiled at the git. “I’m impressed - I didn’t think you could read that well. Wait! You said ‘heard’, not ‘read’. Did your mummy read it to you, or did you have an elf read it for you?”

“Very funny.” Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, as usual, glared at them.

At least Parkinson wasn’t present. The snobby, vain witch was probably still busy trying to make herself look ‘presentable’.

“Thank you!” Harry beamed at the git and sketched a bow. “I’ll be here all week!”

“What?” Malfoy blinked.

“Muggle expression, don’t worry about it,” Harry said, waving his hand.

“Typical! I should have known you’d…” Malfoy trailed off.

“Known what?” Hermione asked, tilting her head slightly. “Were you about to make another bigoted remark? Or did you just forget what you were about to say and are now desperately but futilely trying to remember?”

He scoffed in return, but she saw him clench his teeth. “I’ve read the news. What a load of dragon dung! How much did you pay the Prophet to print it?”

“We didn’t pay them anything. They asked for an interview,” Harry told him.

“To hear your fantasy?” And here came the sneer. “As if anyone would believe such a tale!”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Harry asked.

Malfoy straightened, pressing his lips together for a moment. “Are you claiming that the Prophet’s article is factual?”

That was actually a decent bit of evasion - everyone knew that the Prophet and facts didn’t often agree. But this time, they did. Hermione narrowed her eyes. “We ensured that they didn’t lie or embellish things in the interview.”

Malfoy scoffed in response. “A likely story. So, you claim to have slain a wyvern and sunk a pirate ship. And yet, according to the Ministry’s files, Dumbledore defeated the pirates.”

“You didn’t read the article, I see,” Harry replied. “Yes, Dumbledore defeated the pirates - with the help of my parents and their friends - but the ship was sunk by us.”

By Harry, actually - Hermione hadn’t been involved in that part of their plan. But she nodded. “And yes, we killed the wyvern. I’m sure your father has told you about the skull currently held at the Ministry.”

“Anyone can stumble upon a skull and claim they killed a dangerous beast!” Malfoy retorted.

Hermione scoffed. The git was getting really annoying - and he was holding them up when she wanted to have breakfast. She really needed some strong tea - it had been a rather short night, all things considered. And they were attracting a small crowd which was quickly growing into a not-so-small crowd. “The Headmaster confirmed our story. Do you want to call him a liar?”

“It’s obvious that you two are his favourites!” Malfoy shot back. “Otherwise, you’d have been expelled long ago!”

“As if!” Harry snorted.

“Honestly,” Hermione continued. “You’re claiming that the Headmaster would lie, that the Ministry would lie, that Britain would cause international tensions based on a lie…” She shook her head. “And why? Because you can’t accept that we managed things you only dream of?”

“Yes, Malfoy - what’s your problem? Except for the obvious, I mean.” Harry leaned closer to her and wrapped his right arm around her waist.

That was nice but it also meant that he’d be slow to draw his wand, Hermione noted. And they were surrounded by students, now. If anyone wanted to harm them, they’d have the perfect opportunity to strike, and she didn’t like that.

“I don’t have any problem with your delusional claims. I’m merely pointing out inconsistencies,” Malfoy shot back, raising his chin in an attempt to look less like a snivelling weasel.

“Oh, so it’s true - I hadn’t really believed it when I heard it, but this confirms it!” Harry exclaimed.

“What?” Malfoy stared, blinking, with a stupid expression on his face.

Hermione tensed. She knew what was coming.

“You are jealous that we’re a couple and refuse to accept that!” Harry grinned. “It all makes sense now: your constant begging for attention, your absolutely hopeless attempts to hex either of us and your refusal to accept that neither Hermione nor I return your feelings!”

“What? That’s… that’s… How dare you!” Malfoy sputtered, flushed with anger. At least Hermione hoped it was anger. Most of the students nearby were laughing and giggling, though.

Harry snorted in return and turned to Hermione. “Let’s not give him any more attention,” he said - and kissed her before she could answer.

Hermione suppressed a moan - they were surrounded by dozens of students, after all, and she had her dignity. She didn’t close her eyes, though - not in this situation. Instead, she looked at Malfoy in the corner of her eye.

So when the git raised his wand, still trembling with anger and embarrassment, she flicked her own and sent him to the ground with a Jelly Legs Jinx. Harry finished him off with a Silencing Charm cast left-handed.

Unfortunately, by the time they broke their kiss, their audience included Professor McGonagall, who was decidedly not amused.

Well, it wasn’t the first time that they were sent to the professor’s office the second day of the term.

*****​

“You haven’t been at Hogwarts for a day yet, and you already hexed a fellow student in the halls!”

McGonagall sighed as she sat down behind her desk, Harry Potter noted. Well, that was nothing new. “It wasn’t a fellow student,” he objected. “It was Malfoy.”

And there was the glare he had been expecting. “Do not test my patience with such remarks, Mr Potter!”

“He was trying to hex us,” Hermione said. “We only defended ourselves.”

“And you didn’t provoke him at all, I presume?” Eyebrows rose.

Harry had to struggle not to smile - this felt so familiar! Except for the fact that he and Hermione were sitting next to each other, not as far apart as possible. “We didn’t!” he said. “He accosted us. Called us - and the Headmaster - a liar!”

“He insinuated that, at least,” Hermione added. “He professed doubt about our claims, which the Headmaster had confirmed.”

“And you politely explained the facts to him?” McGonagall’s tone dripped with sarcasm.

“Yes!” Harry nodded, trying not to smile.

“I pointed out the logical fallacies his statements implied,” Hermione said, nodding with an earnest expression.

“So you didn’t spread this rumour that he is infatuated with either or both of you?” McGonagall’s eyes narrowed.

“I mentioned it,” Harry said.

“It’s possible that it’s true, after all,” Hermione went on. “His behaviour is suspect.”

McGonagall snorted, but it lacked any humour. “Then you admit that you provoked him.”

“Are you saying that it’s an insult to imply that someone might be attracted to either of us?” Hermione asked with a frown.

Oh, nice! Harry nodded, trying to sound serious. “That sounds like an insult to us, Professor! We were just speculating.”

But the witch scoffed in return. “Even if I would believe you, you’d still have provoked him by insinuating that his hypothetical attraction was entirely one-sided and hopeless. That is not how you politely and gracefully let someone down.”

“I called his attempts to hex either of us hopeless,” Harry protested. “Not his attraction itself!”

“And history proves us right in that regard,” Hermione added. “His past attempts to attack either of us were as easily defeated as today’s.”

“And he did try to hex us - we didn’t hex him first!” Harry nodded. “It was self-defence.”

“Exactly!”

McGonagall looked from Harry to Hermione and back, shaking her head. “It feels like talking to the Weasley twins.”

Huh? Harry glanced at Hermione; she looked puzzled as well.

“Nevertheless, you expected him to attempt to hex you. The moment he raised his wand, you struck, Miss Granger.”

At least McGonagall wasn’t disputing that Malfoy had started the actual fight, Harry noted.

“Of course, Professor. We knew that he was violent from our experiences with him and that we would be vulnerable - or appear to be - when we were kissing,” Hermione said. “Not to mention that anyone could’ve been using the throng of people around us as a cover for an attack.”

Once more, the professor stared at them, though this time, she looked more surprised than annoyed. At least for a moment. “The Headmaster informed me about your… special circumstances.”

Harry clenched his teeth so he wouldn’t blurt out that they were fine. But that wouldn’t help their argument right now. Even though it was true. They had had several talks with Miss Vance already, after all.

“We have the right to defend ourselves,” Hermione said with narrowed eyes. “And Malfoy raised his wand first in a clear attempt to curse us.”

“An attempt you anticipated.”

“Of course we did!” Harry said. “We know him.”

“And you wouldn’t have been able to stop him without hexing him?” McGonagall slightly tilted her head to look at them over her glasses. “Would he have gone through with his attempt if you had him at wand point?”

“We shouldn’t be required to take a risk and potentially stop an attack when we can definitely stop an attack,” Hermione replied. “That’s the law.”

“That’s the law for the Ministry. This is about breaking Hogwarts rules.”

“Are you honestly trying to tell us that we can’t defend ourselves?” Harry shook his head. “Hogwarts isn’t exempt from the rule of law!”

The way the professor snorted probably meant that he had overdone it a little. “Even under Ministry law, you provoked Mr Malfoy. That doesn’t mean he was correct to attempt to hex you, of course,” she said. Hermione, who had been about to protest, Harry knew her, closed her mouth with a pout. “He will be punished for that. But so will you.” She glared at them. “You’ll have detention today and tomorrow.”

Harry suppressed a snort. This wasn’t the first time he was getting punished. Not by far. Two days detention? Easy. After all, the professor was punishing herself as well since she would have to supervise it. “Yes, professor:”

“Yes, professor,” Hermione echoed him. “And what will be Malfoy’s punishment?”

“The same as yours.”

Harry blinked. “Does that mean he’ll get two detentions as well, or that he’ll get two detentions with us?”

“The latter. I am not going to spend any more hours than I have to to deal with this.”

Damn. Detention with Malfoy. That wasn’t any fun at all. He’d whine the whole time. Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione. She didn’t look happy about the news either.

They should’ve hexed the guy some more, so Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t release him from the Infirmary until their detentions were over.

Though they probably would’ve gotten longer detentions in that case.

This was all Malfoy’s fault!

*****​

Hogwarts, September 4th, 1996

“See anyone?” Harry whispered.

Hermione Granger looked around. She had cast a Privacy Charm, but that would only prevent anyone from overhearing them. Anyone could still spot them with a Human-presence-revealing Charm. On the other hand, if they could spot them, she would spot them as well. “No.”

“Good.” He opened the door to the duelling salle, and both of them slipped inside. Hermione quickly closed the door behind them.

“Merlin’s beard! I thought they would’ve stopped hounding us by now!” Harry exclaimed.

“Well, our confrontation with Malfoy fanned the flames, so to speak,” Hermione said, looking around. The salle was empty, as the map had indicated. It should be empty, anyway, so close to curfew. Students weren’t supposed to use the room without a professor to supervise. Many still did, anyway. Like them. She cast an advanced locking charm on the door, just in case. “That should convince anyone wanting to ‘settle a score’ that the teachers improved security,” she explained.

“Good idea!” Harry smiled at her. “I wouldn’t mind settling a few scores myself!”

“We can’t hex people for watching us,” Hermione said. Even though she really wanted to, at times. It got really annoying if everyone watched you like the telly.

“It would make people leave us alone, though,” Harry said.

“Yes.” Hermione nodded. “We’d only have to hit a few choice targets to get the message across.” And she had a few people in mind already. “But everyone would know it was us.”

“A couple detentions wouldn’t be too bad,” Harry said.

That was true. Although… “What if they don’t stick to detentions?” Professor McGonagall had even said that she didn’t want to run another detention this term - albeit that was likely due to Malfoy’s constant whining.

Harry snorted. “What else can they do? Filch isn’t allowed to torture students any more.”

“But the Headmaster could take steps to crack down on our ‘arrangement’,” she pointed out. “If he talks to the elves…”

“And he would suspect that - or check it anyway.” Harry sighed through clenched teeth. “We can’t risk that.”

No, they couldn’t. Hermione needed Harry. To fall asleep without him felt… not safe. And she didn’t want to have nightmares again. “So, I guess we have to grin and bear it.”

“Unless they cross a line,” Harry said. “Like Malfoy.”

Right. That was always an option. “But we need to be more subtle,” Hermione pointed out. “So Professor McGonagall can’t blame us for any incident.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But we can at least hex anyone who tries to ‘surprise’ us.”

“Of course.”

Harry looked around. “So, with that settled, let’s do some training!”

Hermione was already drawing her wand. They couldn’t let their skills slip, after all. Not after all they had gone through.

*****​

Hermione Granger wasn’t limping when she returned to her dorm an hour later, but only because she had learned the charm to treat a sprained ankle in the last week of August. She’d have to train some more to be able to do that running roll to the side without risking an injury.

Sighing, she entered her room.

“Hi, Hermione!”

“Did you have a nice ‘study session’?”

Hermione rolled her eyes at Lily and Parvati’s comments. What did they think she had been doing? Well, she knew what they thought. And they weren’t entirely incorrect - there had been some snogging - but they had spent most of the time training duelling. Or, rather, defence. A lot of what they had trained would be illegal in the ring. “We had a productive session,” she told them, which sent both giggling.

Lavender was on her bed, reading the latest Teen Witch Weekly. Fay wasn’t present - the prefects of their year were doing the curfew patrol today. Which meant Lavender was in a bad mood.

Hermione sat down on her friend’s bed and stretched. “Ron won’t give Fay the time of day,” she said as she rubbed her legs. The modified duelling robes were enchanted to provide her with better protection, but no defence was perfect. Harry had landed a few Stinging Hexes that hadn’t felt as if they had been weakened at all.

“I know,” Lavender replied.

But she was still worried, Hermione knew.

Her friend sighed. “But… she’s so obvious, and he doesn’t see it!” She sneered. “‘She’s just being friendly’,” she imitated Ron.

“Well, as long as he doesn’t even realise that she’s interested in him, she has no chance at all,” Hermione pointed out.

“I should hex her into the Infirmary,” Lavender said with a growl. “Follow your example. No one dares to flirt with Harry.”

Hermione blinked. “I haven’t hexed anyone for flirting with him,” she pointed out. Had anyone been flirting with him, anyway? She didn’t think so.

“You don’t have to - everyone knows you’d do it,” Lavender grumbled. “But I haven’t killed a wyvern and fought pirates.”

“That didn’t stop Malfoy.”

“Malfoy doesn’t count. He’s too stupid to understand. And he wouldn’t be a rival anyway.”

That was true. Although… “My reputation didn’t stop anyone from hounding us like paparazzi,” Hermione complained.

“Well… Perhaps you should hex a few to send a message? We can team up and hex Fay together! You for trying to gossip, me for trying to seduce Ron!” Lavender grinned.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Don’t you start!”

Lavender giggled. After a moment, Hermione laughed as well.

Compared to having to fight for your life and freedom, dealing with school gossip wasn’t really anything to worry about. It was an annoyance, nothing more.

Although if anyone tried to seduce Harry...

*****​

Hogsmeade, October 5th, 1996

“Well, this doesn’t look too bad,” Harry Potter said.

“You’ve said that before,” Hermione replied.

He had. And it was true. Sort of. Mostly. He glanced at the itinerary Jabby had written for them. “We can cross off ‘carriage ride’ already.”

“Great,” Hermione said. “That just leaves…” She cocked her head and glanced at the sheet in Harry’s hand, though he was certain she knew the schedule by heart. “...a romantic stroll through Hogsmeade for at least twenty minutes, a visit to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop for an hour enjoying the ‘lover’s delight’ special menu, shopping for gifts, a romantic dinner at the Three Broomsticks Inn and another romantic stroll back to Hogwarts along the shores of the Black Lake.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“At least we didn’t get a list for the shops we have to visit?” Harry forced himself to smile.

Hermione scoffed. “I feel like a character in a romance novel. Or a movie.”

“Perhaps Jabby is just trying to be nice?” Harry shrugged.

Hermione snorted in return. “I think he just likes certain novels. At least he hasn’t scripted our dialogue for us. Or any other interaction.”

“Right. Still…” Harry looked around. Most of the students who had gone to Hogsmeade with them had already left for the village proper. Ron and Lavender had split off right away, something about not wanting to follow a house-elf’s orders on their date. Ginny and Luna were off to... somewhere. Either exploring the Shrieking Shack or trying to eat Honeydukes out of stock. Harry hadn’t quite understood Luna’s explanation as Ginny dragged her away.

Indeed, the novelty of their relationship seemed to have finally faded some over the last month. And they didn’t have to hex more than one person stalking them. And they hadn’t had to talk to Miss Vance about nightmares more than once.

But there were still a dozen students left watching them. Most pretended to wait for someone, some were reading the newspaper, but a few just stared at them. And Creevey had his damn camera ready. Harry glared at the boy, and he paled and stepped back behind the corner.

“Really! One would think they’ve never seen dress robes before,” Hermione commented.

“I doubt that too many have seen French dress robes,” Harry pointed out.

“Please!” Hermione snorted again. “This ensemble was featured prominently in a recent issue of Witch Weekly.” She ran her hand down the front of her robes. Which was a little distracting - her robes weren’t really cut for the weather and temperature. If not for the charms on it, Hermione would be freezing, Harry was sure. Even though she was also very hot.

They certainly looked better than his own dress robes, which were as far from his preferred style as you could be and still vaguely qualify as robes. For a supposed ‘Duelling Style’, they didn’t really protect much of him either - his chest was exposed down to the navel, and the pants were so tight, he almost had to cast a shrinking charm on his legs to pull them up. At least Hermione liked them.

“Well, I doubt that they saw the dress robes for real,” he said.

“Probably not,” Hermione agreed. “Well, let’s get it over with!”

“One elven date, coming up!” Harry said, holding his arm out to her.

That made her laugh, at least, and she hooked her arm into the crook of his own and leaned her head on his shoulders as they entered the village. Truth to be told, Harry didn’t mind it too much. He wouldn’t have picked the exact itinerary, but a date was a date. And Hogsmeade was...

...apparently not used to their relationship yet. Or their fame had still to fade in the village - a witch peering out of her shop was openly staring at them.

Great.

*****​

Kingston Upon Tames, London, Britain, November 3rd, 1996

Hermione Granger tried not to wince when she appeared inside her room. Even after weeks of practising - clandestinely, of course, since one couldn’t apparate at Hogwarts, they had to train outside - apparating still felt horrible. No wonder most people preferred to use the Floo network or even the Knight Bus.

Not that that was an option for her and Harry, of course - they were supposed to be in Hogsmeade. Not in London. And they couldn’t afford to run into anyone who might recognise them. Such as anyone who had read the Prophet over the summer.

A popping sound announced Harry’s arrival next to her. He grimaced and quickly ran his hands over his body.

“I don’t see any signs of splinching,” Hermione told him.

“Thanks.” He straightened, then pulled out a small mirror from his enchanted pocket. “Ron? We’ve arrived safely,” he whispered.

“Yes, mate.” Ron did sound a little annoyed. “I’ll call you when anyone asks for you. As we agreed.”

“Thanks!” Harry smiled and put the mirror away. “So, everything’s set.”

“Yes.” As they had planned for their first real free weekend. “Let’s check on my parents.”

She opened the door and called out: “Mum? Dad?”

“Hermione?” Mum answered. A moment later, Hermione saw her step into the hallway and peer up the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ve got a Hogsmeade weekend,” Harry replied with a wave, “and we didn’t like going to Hogsmeade.”

“We didn’t like staying in Hogsmeade,” Hermione corrected him. “And since we now can apparate, we decided to visit you before spending the afternoon in London.” She grinned. And at seventeen years, she was finally legally an adult, so she could use magic whenever and wherever she wanted without violating that stupid decree.

Mum smiled, then pursed her lips. “Oh, you should have told us in advance, so we could have prepared a sunday meal.”

“We don’t need a fancy meal,” Hermione told them. “Just sandwiches will do. Or a salad.”

“Yes. I’m still feeling the Halloween feast in my stomach,” Harry added.

Hermione snorted. “You didn’t want to listen when I told you another slice of treacle tart would be too much.”

“I managed to keep it down,” he replied with a pout.

“And complained the whole time afterwards.” She shook her head as they went down the stairs to join Mum.

“It was worth it,” Harry said.

Mum laughed. “So, what’s happening at Hogwarts? Did the other students finally stop hounding you?”

Hermione sighed. “Most stopped acting like paparazzi. But a few didn’t.”

“Damn Creevey!” Harry cursed.

“And are you still bound to follow that elf’s script?” Mum sounded a little too casual, in Hermione’s opinion.

“Yes. But on Sundays, we’re free,” she replied.

“And it’s not too bad. We just have to act like we were in a romance novel,” Harry added. “Or so I’ve been told.”

Mum smiled at that. Hermione didn’t know if she should smile at Harry’s attitude towards romance novels - there was nothing wrong with them - or frown at her mother’s obvious amusement at their, well, it wasn’t a real plight. Though having her whole room except for Lavender assume she was into such overdone dates… Parvati was now swapping tips with her. Or trying to. And Lavender was oh so eager to help them keep up the charade that they were doing out of their own free will by making the most outrageous suggestions. If she ever talked to Jabby...

“Well, today we won’t be gorging on sweets and having a candlelight dinner,” Hermione announced. “We’re going to see a movie and visit the museum. And then we’ll have a normal dinner in an Italian restaurant.” Just as planned.

“So, you’re going to follow your script for a romantic date instead?”

“Mum!” Hermione narrowed her eyes at her mother while Harry laughed.

It wasn’t funny!

*****​

Hogwarts, November 3rd, 1996

“Today was a nice day,” Harry Potter commented as he shifted a little on his bed. It was a little small for two people and - as they had found out - charmed against Extension Charms. Not against Privacy Charms, though. And all in all, it was large enough for them, but barely so. And he loved holding her while they fell asleep.

“Yes,” Hermione agreed with a sigh that tickled the skin on his chest. “Just a normal day without anyone staring at us.”

He nodded. “Yes.” Peaceful. “We should do that more often.”

“You said that already. Several times. And I’ve agreed every time.” She chuckled.

“Well, it bears repeating,” he said. “It’s just… I wish we could do that in Wizarding Britain as well.” Muggle Britain was great, but it wasn’t home.

“Yes.” Hermione agreed.

Although for her, muggle Britain was home. Or had been home. “If you had to choose…” He trailed off.

“Choose between what?” she asked after a moment.

“Between living in muggle or Wizarding Britain.” He clenched his teeth, waiting for her answer.

“That’s a silly question.”

“Huh?”

“We don’t have to choose. We’re free to live wherever we want,” Hermione said.

“We just have to tolerate the paparazzi.”

“Technically, they aren’t paparazzi,” she replied as if she hadn’t used the term first. “Just nosy, rude people.”

“Paparazzi sounds better,” he said.

She grumbled something that might have been an agreement.

“But they are annoying,” he said. It was hard to have a romantic date with everyone staring at you.

“Yes.” He felt her tense. “But they won’t be doing that forever,” she went on. “Sooner or later, they’ll focus on someone else. And we’ll have our peace.”

He smiled at that. “You’re right.” And it wasn’t as if they had too much trouble while they were at Hogwarts.

“Of course I am,” she mumbled, then shifted and placed her head on his chest, sliding one leg over.

He pulled her a little closer - gently - and sighed with a smile.

All in all, things were going great. Much better than he had expected at the start of summer.

*****​

 

Epilogue: Three Years Later

Godric’s Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 6th, 1999

“Ron! There you are!”

That was Harry’s voice. Ron Weasley turned and smiled at his best friend. “Yes?”

“I was looking for you!” Harry exclaimed as he joined Ron on the grass. “I checked every room in the house and in the tent!”

“I told you I was going to check the lawn,” Ron said, shaking his head.

“That was fifteen minutes ago! Why would you still be here?”

Because the Potter’s home, as well as the wizarding tent they had erected next to it, was a madhouse. Ron didn’t say that, though. “Who used to say that you couldn’t be too thorough when you were checking out a location?” he asked instead with a grin.

Harry rolled his eyes. “That was years ago! And we’re behind the strongest wards I’ve ever seen, outside Hogwarts! The odds of anyone being able to break through Bill’s wards, and Mum’s, and whatever spell Dumbledore cast on the house…” He shook his head.

Ron chuckled. “I wasn’t worried about anyone attacking us.” Who would be crazy enough to attack a wedding that Dumbledore and half the Ministry were attending?

“You weren’t?” Harry blinked.

Ron suppressed a sigh. His best friend wasn’t paranoid any more, but he still was more ‘cautious’ than most. “I was just checking the preparations here,” he explained. And getting some fresh air and quiet. That out here, the odds of getting dragged into helping with something he had no clue about were low was a welcome bonus.

“Ah.” Harry nodded. “So, is everything ready here? We’ve got an hour left to fix anything if it isn’t ready.”

“Everything looks fine,” Ron said. “Well, it looks like it is supposed to look.”

“The flower decorations weren’t my idea,” Harry said.

“I know.” Ron grinned.

“Laugh it up. I’m pretty sure Lavender took notes.”

Ron winced at the thought. The flowers were… exotic. And, as Lavender had explained to him, twice, the latest fad in Paris. But he still thought they looked ridiculous. What was wrong with faeries, anyway?

“Anyway,” Harry said, “I need you inside. The tent, that is. I can’t get into Hermione’s room - some odd rule for a wedding, or so I’ve been told - so I need you to get in and check if Crookshanks snuck inside.”

Ron blinked. “You lost Crookshanks?”

“I didn’t lose him,” Harry replied through clenched teeth. “He just… wandered off for a bit. And I can’t find him in the house.”

“He might have been gone mousing,” Ron suggested. The Potters’ backyard bordered a nice piece of woods, after all.

“I already checked that,” Harry said and raised his wand. “Accio Crookshanks!”

No cat came flying towards them. “Why’s the cat present, anyway?” Ron asked.

“Because Hedwig will be raining rose petals down on us, and he got jealous. At least Hermione claimed that. So, he gets to carry a basket of rose petals as well and go in front of her.”

“I thought Céline would serve as the flower girl?” Ron said.

“So did I,” Harry replied with a shrug. “But I’m not the one organising the wedding.”

That was true. And neither was Ron organising the wedding - that was, as far as he knew, handled by Lily and Mrs Granger. And Mum. He sighed. “So, you need Crookshanks.”

“Yes. Well, I just need to know if he’s in Hermione’s room. If he is, everything is fine.”

“And if he isn’t?”

Harry grimaced. “He has to be in there. It’s the only place left.”

“Alright, I’ll ask.”

“No!” Harry shook his head. “Just check, don’t ask. I don’t want the others to know that I’ve... that I don’t know where Crookshanks is.”

“You want me to ‘covertly’ check if Crookshanks is in Hermione’s room?”

Harry nodded with a smile.

Ron sighed again. “Alright, but you owe me for this, mate.”

“I’ll do the same for you at your wedding!”

Which wasn’t scheduled yet - hell, Ron had just proposed a month ago!

But Harry was, obviously, not in a state to handle this, so Ron nodded and walked over to the wizarding Tent in the Potter’s yard.

A scarred man was standing in front of it, and Ron sighed again. Moody might be the best Auror in the Ministry, but he was also so paranoid, he made Harry and Hermione at their worst, shortly after they had returned from the pirate island, look laid-back and relaxed.

And as expected, the artificial eye turned to face him before he had even gotten any closer than ten yards. “Weasley.”

“Yes.”

The man’s natural eye narrowed. “Or someone looking like him.”

“Yes.” Ron sighed. “Who would have had to pass through the wards on the place.”

The man scoffed. “I’ve got my eye on you.”

“Yes.” Ron nodded and stepped past him into the tent.

The entrance hall was big - not quite as big as the lobby of the hotel in which Ron and Lavender had stayed during their visit to France last year, but bigger than any tent he had seen before. The Potters hadn’t skimped on their guest quarters. Everyone had a suite, and there were a lot of guests. Not counting Hermione’s family members and friends who didn’t know about magic - they had to stay at the inn in the village, of course. But between Céline’s family and Fleur’s, and all the Potters’ relatives and friends who wouldn’t take the Floo Network back to their homes in Britain at the end of the day, they needed the space.

And Harry had checked every room here? Ron shook his head. Well, he had a task, and he would do his best to accomplish it.

*****​

“Can I come in?”

That was Ron’s voice! Lavender Brown jumped up from her seat and dropped the Witch Weekly Wedding Special - she knew the issue by heart anyway.

Everyone was dressed, so… “Is Harry with you?”

“He doesn’t even dare to enter the tent.”

Good! “Come in, then!” Hermione yelled.

The door was opened, and Ron stepped inside with a shy smile.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione demanded, turning to stare at him, which caused her train to drag over the floor and almost snag on a side table.

“Uh… nothing,” Ron said. He was lying, though - Lavender, of course, could tell. “Harry just wanted a status update?” And he was looking around.

“You didn’t lose the rings, did you?” Hermione asked with narrowed eyes.

“What? No!” Ron pulled a small box out of his dress robes’ pocket. “They’re here!” He opened it to check, and Lavender saw that he was a little relieved. But if he wasn’t looking for the rings, what was he doing here?

“Oh, Crookshanks!” Ron beamed at the cat, which was lounging in a corner, still digesting the salmon fillet Hermione had fed him today - ‘to celebrate the occasion’. “I didn’t know you’re here.”

“Of course he’s here!” Hermione said at once. “We have to show him how to carry the basket.”

“Ah.” Ron nodded. “So, everything’s on schedule?”

Lavender winced as Hermione huffed. “No! The florist is still stuck at the checkpoint. Why they didn’t come an hour ahead of the time, I don’t know - we clearly told them that there’d be delays due to security! But did they listen? No! We should’ve gone with a muggle florist.”

“I thought the flowers were already mounted,” Ron replied.

“Yes, but those were the decoration. We’re talking about the bouquet and the rose petals!”

“You didn’t order them from the same florist?” Ron blinked.

Then he winced when Hermione glared at him. “No, we didn’t!” she spat. “And we still haven’t heard from the limousine your father is preparing.”

“Oh, yes. Dad might have lost track of time… I’ll go call him to check!” Ron started to make an exit.

Lavender waved at him and got a quick smile in return, but her boyfriend - her fiancé! - quickly disappeared out the door.

“Honestly!” Hermione huffed. “It’ll be a miracle if this doesn’t end in disaster!”

“I’ll be fine,” Lavender told her. “Sit down before you ruffle the robes.”

Grumbling, her best friend sat down again. “Nothing a spell won’t fix.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Lavender quoted her friend. “That’s what you said when the first florist had suggestions about the bouquet.”

“Yes!” Hermione glared at her for a moment, but Lavender kept smiling. Brides always were nervous before the wedding. She had no doubt that she would need a Calming Draught before her own. Of course, Hermione had refused the draught - she didn’t want to be ‘under the influence’ on her special day.

The door started to open, and Hermione jumped up again, wand pointed at the door. Lavender gasped - but Luna, who entered, only smiled. “We’re back!” she announced, ignoring the wand aimed at her.

Ginny, who followed Luna inside and closed the door, shook her head, though. “Really, Hermione! As if anyone would dare to attack the wedding of the year in Britain!”

“You can’t assume that. Humans do the stupidest things,” Hermione retorted as she stashed her wand in her dress robes again. “I half-expect Malfoy to try to crash the wedding.”

Everyone giggled at that. “Is he back in Britain, anyway?” Ginny asked as she sat down and pulled out the box of chocolates they had brought from Honeydukes.

“Not according to James,” Hermione said. “He’s still in New Orleans on his ‘grand tour’.”

“Perhaps he’s using the fact that he has no brains to get close to the local zombie population?” Luna speculated as she picked up two pieces from the box before handing it over to Hermione.

Hermione picked one, then another, and ate both with almost savage speed.

Lavender grabbed one for herself and watched Luna sit on Ginny’s lap and feed her with another one. She wanted to ask what a lack of brains had to do with zombies - nothing she remembered from Defence had mentioned a preference for brains - but decided against it. That was probably just Luna being Luna.

“Ah!” Hermione sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

“See? I told you, chocolate makes everything better!” Luna beamed at her for a moment before feeding the next piece to Ginny.

“So… still no rose petals. I might have to conjure some to show Crookshanks what to do,” Hermione said.

“Are you sure he’ll understand?” Ginny asked.

“Of course! He’s the smartest cat there is!” Luna replied at once. “Right, Crookshanks? See how he doesn’t even glance at the chocolate? He knows it’s bad for him!”

And he also had stuffed himself on a pound of salmon - which Luna was aware of. Then again, she thought that no matter how full you were, there was always room in your stomach for sweets. And thinking of Sweets… “Leave some for Céline!”

Luna pouted but put the piece she had grabbed back into the box. “She isn’t even here yet!”

“But she will join us soon,” Lavender told her. “And she was already complaining that she couldn’t join us at the hen night, so we certainly can’t let her miss Honeyduke’s!”

Luna frowned again, then nodded. “That’s right. That would leave her with the worst impression of Britain, which could impact the Franco-British relationship. For the good of the Alliance, we have to sacrifice our chocolate!”

“I don’t think that the Alliance Against Slavery will suffer if we deprive Céline of chocolate,” Hermione remarked, “but it would be rude.”

“Don’t ignore the danger - wars have been started for the tiniest reasons. Why, once a war broke out over a fairy!” Luna retorted.

Lavender blinked. She shouldn’t ask, but she had to know. “When was that?”

“That was the second war between Magical Massachusetts and the Hamptons Hegemony, as it was known at the time,” Luna explained. “A thief stole the favourite fairy - and the Christmas tree it was decorating and the gifts - from the Master of Magical Massachusetts and then sought sanctuary in the Hegemony. They refused to extradite him which caused a war.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly like a war over a fairy. But it served to distract Hermione from the fact that the bouquet and petals still hadn’t been delivered. Lavender checked the time. If they didn’t arrive in another five minutes, she would check with the checkpoint.

And see if she could find Ron.

*****​

Everything was fine. Crookshanks was shaking the basket in his mouth a bit too much, but that wasn’t a problem. He was the smartest cat she knew; he would do fine. And show up that evil owl. At least the bouquet and petals had finally arrived - and in the quantities and style that she had ordered them.

Hermione Granger took a deep breath. She was ready for this. Everyone was ready for this. They had been planning this for months. Lily and Mum knew what they were doing. As did Molly. This wasn’t their first wedding. A few minor problems were normal, and no reason to despair. She could trust them to handle it.

Even though Hermione really preferred to handle things herself. Or let Harry do it. But this was their wedding, and they couldn’t deal with everything. Not even with most things.

“Relax, Hermione,” Luna said. “Everything will be fine.”

Hermione snorted and recast her hairstyling charm. She knew that one perfectly - she had crafted it herself, after all. Just for this wedding. Though Witch Weekly had already asked to publish it afterwards. It was Hermione’s most significant sale since she started working as a spellcrafter. That her fame - and Harry’s - played a significant part in her getting this deal irked some, but a sale was a sale, as Lily had taught her.

That she was starting to become known more for being Harry the star Seeker’s girlfriend, soon to be wife, instead of for her own merits - despite the work she had done for the Alliance - was a little more vexing. But she was confident that this would change once she crafted more complex spells. She certainly had enough ideas! Things would work out. She and Harry had gone through much worse than that, after all.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Was that Lavender returning? “Yes?”

“’Ermione?”

Oh, “Come in, Céline!”

And Céline entered. The girl had grown in the three years since her ordeal, but she was still a little girl. Barely into Beauxbatons. Although she had a wand of her own now that she proudly carried. She had bounced back very well from her kidnapping. Of course, knowing that the Barbary Coast pirates had been decimated by the Alliance last year would have helped with that. It certainly had helped Hermione.

“’Ermione!” Céline moved to hug Hermione but stopped after a few steps. “Oh, pardon! The clothes…”

“It’s OK,” Hermione replied. “Did you sleep well?”

“Oui - yes!” Céline nodded twice, her head bobbing up and down and sending waves through her own quite elaborate hairstyle. Then she pouted. “But I get annoyed still for missing the party!”

Her English was much better than Hermione had expected, but there was still room left for improvement. And, as Hermione had thought, Céline was still mad about missing the hen night. “Would you like some chocolates?” Hermione asked, pointing at the box - and ignoring Luna’s sad sniffling. She was pretty sure that her friend was faking it.

Céline’s eyes lit up, and she all but rushed to the side table, grabbing some chocolates. A small bite later, she closed her eyes and made appreciative noises that could’ve come from Luna. “Délicieux!” She grabbed a few more pieces, then took a seat next to Hermione.

Meanwhile, Luna grabbed the box and upended it, but only two pieces of dark chocolate fell out, prompting another sad moan.

“Qu’est-ce qui ce passe?” Céline asked, looking at the witch. “Est-ce qu’elle a mal?”

“No,” Hermione told her. “She’s just greedy.”

“I’m not greedy! We just don’t have enough chocolate for everyone!”

“And who went to buy a box?” Ginny asked with a faint smirk.

Luna pouted at her. “I miscalculated.”

“Well, if you had bought muggle chocolate, you could’ve duplicated the pieces,” Hermione pointed out. They weren’t charmed against that, after all.

Luna froze for a moment. “But they aren’t as good as Honeydukes!”

“I wonder how you’re planning to survive in the Amazon,” Ginny told her. “They won’t sell Honeydukes there.”

“I know! But chocolate was discovered in the New World - they are bound to have the best chocolate there! We’ll boldly go and discover new magical delights!” Luna raised her chin and looked at the ceiling. Presumably.

“I thought you’d be looking for the Lost Golden Jaguar,” Hermione said.

“Yes,” Ginny replied. “This is just… logistics.”

“It’s a second objective! In case we don’t find the Lost Golden Jaguar.”

“Lost Gol-den Jaguar?” Céline asked.

“Ginny and Luna are planning an expedition to the Amazon basin to look for a legendary animal.” Last seen during the time of the Conquistadores, who had hunted the animals to extinction for their fur. At least that was the opinion of most Magizoologists. Luna and her father disagreed, of course. And Ginny was going along because it would be an adventure.

“Oh. C’est dangereux?”

“Not really,” Luna said with a smile.

“Yes,” Ginny said with a grin.

“Yes.” Hermione nodded.

Céline nodded as well in obvious approval. Well, she was French. More Gryffindor than most Gryffindors. Hermione still was convinced the only reason that the French delegation for the Triwizard Tournament had been paired with the Ravenclaws had been Dumbledore’s fear that they would pair up with the Gryffindors instead, if left to their own devices, and edge each other on to even worse antics than usual.

Another knock at the door. “Yes?”

“It’s me!” Lavender opened the door a moment later. She was freshly styled, both makeup and hairdo - yes, Hermione thought, definitely snogged Ron.

“The limousine has arrived at the inn,” her friend announced.

Hermione gasped and checked the clock on the wall. It was almost time to go and join her parents!

*****​

“Hermione and the others have gone to the inn,” Ron told Harry Potter. “The limousine has arrived.”

Right. Half an hour to the ceremony. Harry looked around. The first guests were starting to arrive. The first guests who weren’t involved with helping out at the wedding, that was. Half an hour left. Everything looked fine. But looks could be deceiving. “What about the bouquet and the petals?”

“They were delivered already. Everything’s fine.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Ron. Everything wasn’t fine. It couldn’t be.

“Wow, Harry, you’re shaking like a Patagonian Twitching Bush.”

Harry frowned and turned around. Rose was smirking at him. “Finally managed to get into your new robes?” he asked.

“No, I’m wearing transfigured pyjamas… Of course! And it wasn’t any trouble!” his little sister shot back. “It’s a wonder you managed to dress yourself. You look like you couldn’t hold a glass of water without spilling half of it.”

That wasn’t true! Harry glared at her. Not that she was impressed, of course.

“Being nervous is normal for the groom or the bride,” Ron said. “It’s their big day, after all.”

Rose huffed. “It’s just a wedding. And Mum and Dad are making sure everything works out.”

She had no idea! “Just wait until yours!” Harry snapped.

Rose scoffed in return. “I’m not planning to marry anyone any time soon!”

“Who would want to marry you, anyway?” She and Neville were currently on the outs again, Harry knew.

“Harry!”

He winced. That was Mum. He hadn’t noticed her sneaking up on them. Damn! Sirius would never let him forget that. And Moody…

“Apologise!”

“Sorry, Mum.”

“To Rose!”

“Sorry, Rose.”

“No, you aren’t!”

“Rose!”

Ron shook his head, snorting. Harry frowned at him. This wasn’t funny!

He looked at Mum. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied with a smile. “I’m just checking up on you. Also, a little warning: There are some fans gathered in the street.”

Harry groaned. “Can’t Dad send them away? Or curse them?”

“They’re wearing muggle clothes, and the wedding isn’t a secret,” Mum replied. “Unless they are carrying signs about Quidditch or otherwise threatening the Statute of Secrecy, there’s nothing we can do.”

Not legally, at least, and Harry didn’t really want to risk legal trouble on his wedding day. “I’m not famous amongst muggles,” he objected. “That should be enough to threaten the Statute! At least enough for Dad to arrest them all.”

“The muggles will think it’s just a joke,” Ron said. “Especially after we used that excuse for stag night.”

Harry winced while Mum shook her head, and Rose snickered. He didn’t want to be reminded of anything related to stag night.

“See, if you hadn’t signed up with Puddlemere but had taken a boring job at the Ministry, like Dad, you wouldn’t have to deal with fans,” Rose said. “Although if they knew how their star Seeker acted when he’s not flying, they wouldn’t be your fans any more.”

“Rose!”

“Sorry, Mum! It was just a joke.”

“Haha,” Harry said. She was such a brat! Wouldn’t she ever grow up?

“And it’s not true. Catching the Snitch seven times in a row in the league would have made you famous no matter what you did outside the pitch,” Ron said. “Puddlemere mainly won the cup because of you.”

Harry sighed. His friend was correct, of course. He was about to contradict it anyway, but then he spotted Neville coming towards him, followed by Mrs Longbottom.

“Hey, Harry! Ron. Lily.” Neville smiled at them while his gran exchanged greetings with Mum. “Hello, Rose.” His smile faltered a little.

“Hi, Neville!” Harry beamed at him. “Glad you could make it.”

“As if I would miss this!” Neville laughed.

Rose snorted. “Yeah, the wedding of the year.”

“Well, it is,” Neville said. “Have you seen the crowd outside?”

“A shameful display”, Mrs Longbottom commented with a deep frown.

“They’re just fans,” Ron said.

“Stupid fans,” Rose added.

Neville frowned. “Well, they’re just excited about the most successful Seeker in his first season in fifty-seven years.” He looked around.

“The others are with Hermione and will arrive with her, muggle style,” Rose snapped. “I’m going to check on Dad.” She scowled as she left.

Neville frowned for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “I wasn’t aware that Rose didn’t like muggle style weddings.”

Harry suppressed a sigh. They would get together again, as usual, but to be on the outs on his wedding day… It was as if Rose had planned this. Or was their most recent spat because of the wedding? Harry wanted to ask, but… Rose would hex him, wedding or not, if she found out.

“Ginny and Luna will be off to their first expedition soon,” Ron said, trying to change the subject.

Neville, predictably, only sighed in response as he looked towards the house while trying not to hide it.

And Harry had to press his lips together not to comment on how stupid Neville and Rose were being. Well, it wasn’t really his business - it was just annoying.

As annoying as the wizard approaching them.

“Mr Potter! Smile, please!”

Harry forced himself to smile. “Hello, Mr Smith.” He didn’t like the Prophet’s photographer - the man worked for Skeeter as well - but playing nice was the best way to avoid a negative article. Although the Prophet might think twice these days about slandering Harry or Hermione; even Skeeter wasn’t keen on drawing the ire of Quidditch fans. If Harry did well at the World Cup, he might even become untouchable. On the other hand, Skeeter would likely go after Hermione then, trying to stir up trouble.

Smith finished. “Have you seen Desmonda? Mrs Bartlemout?” he added with a look at Ron and Neville.

“Last I saw her, she was talking to my husband,” Mum told him.

“Right! I need a picture of the Head Auror as well! Thank you!”

And Smith was off.

“Does he know where your dad is?” Ron asked with a snort.

“Do I care?” Harry replied with a grin and a shrug.

He checked his watch. Fifteen minutes left. The Weasleys - those not already involved in the wedding preparations - would arrive any minute now.

And then… then… He sighed again. Everything would be fine. It had to be.

*****​

She appeared in the room at the inn her parents had rented. Ginny was already there - she had insisted on going first - but Hermione Granger had followed her at once. She also had her wand out, just in case she had to obliviate a member of the inn’s staff, but they were alone with her parents. “Mum! Dad!”

“Hermione! You look so beautiful!” Mum gushed as if she hadn’t helped pick the dress Hermione was wearing. “The limousine arrived,” Mum went on. Then she flinched when Luna appeared over the bed with Céline. Both of them squealed with glee when they bounced on the mattress.

Hermione ignored their antics. “I know, Mum,” she told her mother. “That’s why we’re here.”

“We’re a bit early, though,” Luna chimed in as she slid off the bed. “But we can fly around the village while we wait, can we?”

“It’s a muggle limousine,” Hermione told her - even though her friend would be aware of that. “It can’t fly. But we can drive around, I guess.”

“Yes!” Luna cheered. “Is it the same car we used for hen night?”

“No.” That one needed a bit of cleaning and repairing, after all. Even after several cleaning charms and one Mending Charm. Luna loved cars - like many purebloods, as weird as it seemed - but she shouldn’t be allowed to drive. And chauffeurs should know better than to let her drive. Too bad the man wouldn’t be able to learn from the incident since he had forgotten all about it.

“Aw.” Luna pouted.

“I bet it’s even better!” Ginny said. “Right?”

“We rented the top of the line model for this,” Dad said. “Can’t let our relatives show us up, can we?” He grinned.

“Gabriel!” Mum shook her head. “It’s not a competition.”

“That’s not what your dear cousin Michael thinks,” Dad replied. “I had to listen to him bragging for hours at his son’s wedding, remember?”

“Yes, I do. You complained for hours afterwards, remember?” Mum smiled sweetly at Dad.

Hermione chuckled as her dad pouted.

Céline looked a little lost - she probably hadn’t understood everything. Hermione bent down to explain to her. “My father wants to impress my family.”

“Ah!” The little girl nodded eagerly. “Without magic?”

“Yes, without magic.” Hermione nodded. Céline had taken the absence of magic - most magic - at the wedding better than some of Harry’s extended family. Some of the complaints, really! As if you couldn’t have a wedding without a centaur’s blessing! Most wizarding weddings didn’t have that - the custom had gone out of style two hundred years ago, after a drunk wizard had insulted the centaur and had been shot with an arrow. At least the sources Hermione had found when she had been researching wedding customs claimed so.

“Alas!” Dad sighed theatrically. “A few curses would be just the thing for dear old uncle Albert.”

“Gabriel!”

“I’m just joking.”

“It’s not funny.”

Well, neither was great-uncle Albert. But you couldn’t choose your family. The worst was that her relatives would only see an old cottage, not the well-kept wizarding home. And while the Potters had been living here for centuries, which would usually impress Hermione’s relatives, Harry’s family had a rather… eccentric reputation amongst the muggles. And she knew that Albert wasn’t the only one who thought that Hermione was marrying someone unsuitable for her, just the most vocal one. It was almost ironic, considering how many wizards thought the same of Harry marrying her. An attitude that hadn’t improved with Harry’s growing fame as the best Seeker in Britain.

“So, car ride now?” Luna beamed at them.

“Yes,” Hermione said. “Let’s get… Crookshanks?” She looked around. “Crookshanks! Where did you go?”

Luna pointed to the bathroom. Hermione quickly - relatively quickly; her dress wasn’t really made for moving fast through a cramped hotel room - went to check. Crookshanks was in the bathroom - in the sink, actually. Drinking water. Oh, the poor thing - he must have been very thirsty! And hungry, too! “You should’ve told me!” she exclaimed, reaching into her hidden pocket to pull out a small can of tuna from her emergency supplies. It wasn’t quite cat food, but it would do. A quick Duplication Charm and a Cutting Charm later, Crookshanks was enthusiastically eating the tuna straight out of the can.

“You know he’ll expect more of the same now whenever he wants,” Mum told her. “You spoil him.”

“I don’t!” Hermione protested. Crookshanks deserved a treat for being so good. And another once he finished spreading petals on the ground.

Mum sighed and shook her head. Ginny was grinning, Dad was also sighing for some reason, Céline wanted to pet Crookshanks and was trying to squeeze past Hermione, and Luna was… staring out of the window. Presumably at the limousine.

Hermione went back to the centre of the room, where she had put down the basket with the rose petals. “Alright. Once Crookshanks has finished eating, we can take the limousine and drive around in the village until it’s time for the ceremony.”

“Yay!” Luna was at the door in a flash.

“Luna! Wait!”

“What?”

“We can’t just leave the room since the staff never saw us entering it,” Ginny explained.

“Ah.” Luna nodded. “So… we’ll have to modify their memories to make them remember us arriving by car and going up to the room here.”

“No,” Hermione objected. “We’ll apparate to the nearby corner and walk to the inn.”

“In your dress?” Luna frowned. “That’d look suspicious.”

“In my dress,” Hermione replied. “People won’t be suspicious - they’ll simply assume something went wrong with our schedule.”

“Are you sure?” Luna didn’t look as if she believed her.

“Yes,” Hermione replied. “It’s a big wedding; people will readily believe that we mixed up the cars or something and had to walk.” Especially her nosy cousin Melissa.

Well, Hermione smirked as she redid her hair and her dress with a flick of her wand, Melissa could think what she wanted. Hermione knew better, after all.

And she was marrying Harry today! Nothing could ruin this day for her!

*****​

Where was Hermione? It was… well, it wasn’t yet time, but still! Harry Potter clenched his teeth as he tried not to fidget.

“Relax, mate,” Ron whispered next to him. “Hermione will arrive on time, not early.”

“I know,” Harry snapped back through clenched teeth. But he couldn’t help worrying. What if some deranged fan attacked her? Or pirates? Harry and Hermione were sort of symbols for the Alliance Against Slavery, after all. Of course, anyone attacking them would provoke a harsh reaction from the Alliance, so it would be counterproductive, but not everyone was rational. And what if some radical activists wanted to fake an attack to raise more support? There were countries in the New World where slavery was still legal, after all.

“Harry! Already at the altar? Can’t wait to finally tie the knot, huh?”

Harry turned. “Sirius!” His godfather had finally arrived! And with the likely reason for his late arrival. “Hello, Miss Browtuckle,” he added.

“Hello, Harry! Call me Mathilda.” The witch at Sirius’s side smiled widely at him.

Harry suppressed a grimace. As if he’d do that! Mum was watching, and she didn’t like Sirius’s girlfriend. Apparently, they had been at odds at Hogwarts. Some sort of rivals. Sirius claimed it was nothing, but Harry knew better - Mum wouldn’t be holding a grudge over nothing. It couldn’t be jealousy, he knew. Mathilda was a very attractive witch, especially in those French dress robes, but so was Fleur, and Mum didn’t have any problem with Fleur. Or Céline’s mother and sister.

Something must have happened at Hogwarts, but no one was talking about it, at least not to him. Not Mum, not Dad, Sirius claimed he didn’t know, Uncle Peter didn’t say anything at all, and Remus always changed the subject.

Well, it didn’t matter today. Today was his wedding day!

“And look who we dragged in!” Sirius went on. “Remus and Peter!”

Harry beamed at the two wizards approaching them. “You made it!”

“We wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Remus said.

“The Ottomans tried their worst but couldn’t stop them!” Sirius boasted, which earned him a sigh from Uncle Peter.

“I take responsibility for their late arrival,” Dumbledore - when had he arrived? - chimed in. “They were on an errand for me.”

So, they probably had been on a mission against the Ottomans. Harry nodded. He’d try to pry more details out from Remus later - Peter never let anything slip; not even to fellow members of the Alliance. Or Harry would do that if he weren’t marrying Hermione today. He smiled at the thought.

“Harry?”

“Oh, sorry.” Harry felt himself blush. “I was distracted.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Completely understandable, Harry. I haven’t known any man who wouldn’t be distracted in your place. Why, I remember your parents’ wedding as if it were yesterday…”

“Sirius! You finally made it?” And Dad was coming towards them. “We were expecting you much earlier!”

“James! I had to wait to make sure Remus and Peter would be on time!”

Harry snorted at the transparent lie. As did Dad.

Sirius frowned at them. “Well, we were just talking about your wedding, James.”

“What?” Dad glared at him.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “I was just about to tell Harry how nervous you were at your wedding.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We should focus on Harry and Hermione’s wedding,” Dad said.

“I missed your wedding,” Mathilda pointed out. “I’d be happy to hear about it.”

Dumbledore beamed at her. “Why, Miss Browtuckle, dear James was so nervous, he accidentally vanished the rings when Sirius showed them to him to reassure him that he hadn’t lost them.”

“Nothing would have happened if you had actually trusted me to keep the rings safe,” Sirius cut in.

“You had lost them twice before!” Dad retorted.

“And I got them back!”

“Accidental magic? At your age?” Mathilda asked.

“Oh, it wasn’t accidental magic - James merely miscast a Vanishing Charm meant to clean a little dirt off the rings,” Dumbledore explained. “Instead, he vanished the rings and left the dirt. I transfigured the dirt into rings as a temporary replacement for the ceremony.”

Dad had closed his eyes, sighing. Remus and Uncle Peter were shaking their heads. Harry felt with them. His parents had exchanged rings that were transfigured dirt? This was… He shook his head.

“See? If you had used a proper cleaning charm, this wouldn’t have happened,” Sirius said, nodding to his own words.

“I tried one! But you managed to have them fall into Lily’s experimental potion!” Dad protested.

“Which shouldn’t have been at the wedding in the first place.”

“It wasn’t - you brought the wrong bowl!”

“They weren’t labelled.”

“They didn’t look at all alike. Did you think we were serving tar to the guests?”

“Well… I didn’t really know anything about muggle weddings…”

Harry snorted, as did Ron. And Dumbledore smiled and winked at them.

Then Hedwig landed on his shoulder, carrying a basket of petals in her beak, and the music changed from some hymn or other to ‘Here comes the bride’.

Everyone hurried to their seats, and Harry perked up.

Hermione had arrived!

*****​

Hermione Granger could hear the music as the limousine took the last turn before the road leading to the Potters’ cottage. The musician was probably using an Amplification Charm. Not that the muggles would notice anything - they’d just wonder at the ‘discreet sound system’.

They drove past the small crowd of Quidditch fans waiting nearby. Hermione waved and smiled; most smiled and waved back. Those who disapproved of her relationship wouldn’t have shown up at her wedding, anyway. Trying to disturb a wedding? No one in the DMLE would prosecute anyone for hexing such gits. Especially if the Head Auror did it.

The limousine stopped in front of the Potter’s cottage. Taking a deep breath, she quickly moved her wand, casting a quick spell on her hair and another on her dress. Perfect. Dad had gotten out already. He walked around the car to open the door for her, then helped her climb out of the car without messing up her dress.

Hermione took a moment to marvel at the sight in front of her. The entire cottage was decorated with flowers and ribbons. The gate was topped with a big banner spelling ‘Wedding of Harry and Hermione’, and flowers - muggle flowers, in this case - formed an arch. Dad and Hermione entered, passing the wardline, then waited while Mum went ahead to take her seat, and Lavender, Ginny and Luna took up spots behind them. And Céline moved next to her.

She took another deep breath. This was it. Her wedding. To Harry.

“Relax,” Dad whispered.

She snorted. She had the right to be nervous. Then she felt something brush against her legs - Crookshanks! Carrying the basket. She smiled at her cat. He always knew what to do to calm her down!

Unlike the owl she spotted on the roof, looking down at her. Well, Hedwig would behave on this day. Harry had made that clear. Or Hermione would hex the bird.

The music changed again. ‘Here Comes the Bride’. Not a traditional wizarding song, but this wasn’t a traditional wizarding wedding. Hemione snorted again at the thought - she would’ve actually preferred a wizarding wedding since it treated both bride and groom equally, unlike a muggle wedding where her father was supposed to give her away. But her relatives would have asked questions about it. Not to forget that it would’ve also been seen as a slight against her parents by the wizarding public. And Hermione wouldn’t let anyone think that she didn’t respect her own heritage. Even if she disagreed with parts of it.

But she pushed those thoughts away. It was time. She let Dad lead her past the house to the backyard, where the ceremony would be held. Hedwig flew overhead and started dropping petals. Crookshanks took the lead, followed by Céline, both dropping petals as well.

She spotted Melissa staring at Crookshanks and suppressed a smirk. Her annoying cousin was obviously planning to use animals in her own wedding - should she ever find someone willing to marry her. Good luck with using muggle animals for that!

She kept from sneering at her cousin and simply smiled as they walked down the aisle. Harry looked great in his suit - cut like duelling robes, or close to it. If anyone from her family asked, this was the latest style in France. Or some new designer’s work. Next to him stood Ron, Neville and Dean, all dressed in a similar fashion.

And behind the altar stood the priest. He knew about magic, having been raised in the village and having officiated James and Lily’s wedding. Though theirs had been an even more muggle affair, as far as Hermione knew.

She forced herself to focus. This wasn’t the time to let her mind wander. Melissa and the rest of her extended family would never let her forget it if she had a blackout in front of the altar.

She beamed at Harry as she reached the altar. He smiled back, and, for a moment, no one and nothing else mattered.

Then the music changed again, fading a little into a background melody, and the priest cleared his throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have gathered here to celebrate the union of Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean Granger. A couple who has…”

Hermione tuned the man out when he started to recite a heavily edited retelling of her and Harry’s history together, starting at King’s Cross Station, and looked into Harry’s eyes as she remembered what had really happened. What they had lived through. Knockturn Alley. The Island. The wyvern. The pirates. And them falling in love. They had survived so much, done so much, and it had all started three years ago to this day.

How much had they changed from the two teenagers who had quarrelled in the shop in Knockturn Alley! Sometimes, Hermione still couldn’t believe it. But it was real. This was their wedding.

“...and so they have decided to spend their lives together as one family and have God bless their union,” the priest finished with a smile.

He wasn’t going to ask if anyone had any objection, of course. Having to curse a fool and then needing to obliviate half the guests would be a terrible way to start their marriage. Unless it involved hexing Malfoy.

“And so I ask you, Harry James Potter: Will you take Hermione Jean Granger to your wife, to love and protect no matter the danger, for richer and poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

Harry swallowed - Hermione saw his throat move - before he nodded twice. “I will.”

“And I ask you, Hermione Jean Granger, Will you take Harry James Potter to your husband, to love and protect no matter the danger, for richer and poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

Hermione ignored the butterflies in her stomach and firmly nodded. “I will.”

Ron took a step forward, presenting the rings. Simple, classic rings. Not yet enchanted - that would be a bad omen for the marriage. For some reason, Harry narrowed his eyes at the rings for a moment, but then he smiled, took hers and slipped it on her finger.

Hermione swallowed, then picked up his ring, slipping it on his finger.

The priest smiled at them. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Harry was leaning forward, tilting his head to the side. Hermione mirrored him.

And they kissed as husband and wife.

*****​

The End.

*****​