Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Hey, guys! Got another chapter for y'all! Just to warn you, this chapter marks the end of the sort of "post-Voldemort" section. The next chapter will take place about two years from this one. Anyway, enjoy, and please review!

Also, for those of you who are wondering why I chose a wolf as Harry's form:

A, wolves are cool. B, I thought since Sirius played such a big, though brief, role in Harry's life, it would be fitting that he would transform into a similar animal. C, the whole lone wolf vs. pack mentality, both of Harry exercises in my opinion. D, a wolf is an excellent animal for an Auror to become. Not only are they less conspicuous than other animals, but they are also born hunters and have little trouble defending themselves if need be. And E, wolves apparently choose one mate for life, which I thought was also fitting. Also, his form technically coincides slightly with Hermione's form, as you will see in this chapter, which is a plus. Quite close species wise and habitat wise.

Chapter 23: Moving On

The following weeks welcomed abundantly good weather, and Harry was quite sore about the fact that his Auror training prevented him from enjoying it - and the fact that his Auror training still made him sore in general.

His training had increased in such frequency and difficulty that Hermione had insisted he no longer attend her Animagus sessions, claiming his snores were more distracting than his presence was helpful.

He stretched his aching legs languidly in front of him, lounging in the library of Grimmauld place. A patch of sunlight bathed his chair, and his stomach was satisfyingly full after having eaten a large breakfast provided by Kreacher; it was extremely comfortable, and he was exhausted after a full week of training…

He jerked from his doze at the sound of a loud rapping. Turning his head toward the window, he noticed a beautiful snowy owl waiting expectantly on the ledge. The owl gave the glass another sharp tap when he saw that Harry was looking.

Yawning, Harry proceeded to the window and opened it. The owl hopped in and immediately stretched out his leg, to which a small scroll was tied.

"Thanks, Marcellus," Harry said, stroking the owl's head. He slit open the letter and read it through quickly:

Harry,

It's the last day of classes. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sinistra, Sprout, Slughorn, and Hagrid send their best wishes to you and Ron, and they've said we're welcome at anytime. You actually might want to write Hagrid - he cried quite a lot when I went down to visit him. I expect he feels like we're abandoning him or something. My last class is Arithmancy (which I'm about to go to now) and Professor McGonagall's given me permission to leave afterward. Do you want to meet in Hogsmeade for lunch? Maybe the Three Broomsticks at one? Send your answer back with Marcellus.

Love from, Hermione

As he finished reading, Harry was a bit surprised by her brisk attitude about leaving Hogwarts. After all, this was the place that had been a home to both of them for six years (seven in her case); the place where they had fought trolls, been reprimanded by Professor McGonagall, sat ear-muffed in Herbology as they repotted screaming Mandrakes, flown over the grounds on the back of a hippogriff to save his godfather, sent Professor Flitwick tumbling from his stack of books (on numerous occasions), practiced charms within empty classrooms to prepare for the Triwizard Tournament, formed a secret society to undermine the Ministry's interference, pored over countless books to discover the mysteries they encountered everyday within the castle - in short, where they had experienced the best part of their lives.

Surely she would be thinking of all this and much more, because he himself had had these very thoughts as he had walked through the doors he had first entered more than seven years ago as a frightened eleven-year-old…an eleven-year-old who could have never fathomed the journey he was embarking on.

However, he stopped wondering at her neutral tone when he noticed a few stray tear-stains dotting the lower edge of the scroll.

Smiling ruefully, Harry jotted down a quick acceptance to the lunch invitation and tied it onto Marcellus's leg.

"I'm sure Fitz is out there somewhere if you wanna say hello before you head back to Hermione," Harry said lightly. Marcellus peered at him for a moment, and then took off through the window, mostly likely in search of Harry's barred owl.

Harry checked his watch - just past eleven. With another yawn, he returned to his chair, looking forward to sleeping for another hour.

***********

When Harry woke at half-past twelve, he Apparated almost immediately to the outskirts of Hogsmeade. He strolled slowly through the town, looking through the windows of the shops in order to kill a few minutes before he had to meet Hermione. He reached the Three Broomsticks just after one o'clock and proceeded into the crowded bar.

A precursory glance over the heads of the customers did not reveal Hermione's bushy brown hair, so he pushed his way from table to table, searching for his friend as he went while simultaneously ignoring the excited stares from everyone else. He frowned as he arrived back where he'd started - it was very unlike Hermione to be late for anything.

He gave the room one last sweeping look and pushed his way back outside.

He settled himself on a bench outside to wait for Hermione's arrival, and leaned his head against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes, but before long he felt two small, very light points of pressure on his chest. His eyes flicked open, and he was suddenly staring into a pair of familiar chocolate brown eyes. However, very little else was familiar to him.

A small fox stood next to him on the bench, reared on its hinds legs. The small points of pressure came from the tiny paws placed on his chest. The fox cocked its head as it observed him. It then sat down and very primly began to groom its russet colored fur before staring very pointedly at Harry.

A large grin erupted on Harry's face as he looked down at the furry creature. "Oh, you invited me to lunch just so you could show off, eh Hermione?"

The fox stood looking at him through wide brown eyes. She had a very pleased expression on her face. She then jumped down from the bench and began walking quickly along the path, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that Harry was following her.

Getting the hint, Harry jogged along to keep along with Hermione's quick trot. She led him to the very outskirts of the village, and Harry recognized it as the same path Sirius had led them along in fourth year. As they reached the wild countryside, Hermione promptly began to trek up the rocky mountain boulders.

Harry tripped and stumbled up the steep slope for five minutes before he clapped a hand to his forehead.

"Oy, Hermione, wait up!" he yelled after the fox, and immediately transformed into a large wolf. Aided by his four legs, he quickly caught up to the fox. Together, they climbed the steep path, but Hermione eventually veered off into a different direction that led away from the cave his godfather had inhabited during the Triwizard Tournament.

Harry had to be quite careful as he followed Hermione, as she was much smaller than he was and therefore had much shorter legs. Her quick scampers were no match for his long strides, and she soon began weaving in and out of his legs in order to trip him up and gain a few yards' advantage. Harry couldn't help but notice when Hermione surged ahead that her tail was bushier than that of the average fox.

Hermione finally came to a rest in a rather level section of the mountain and sat down upon a large blue blanket that she had clearly placed there previously. She began to morph, and a moment later the real Hermione sat cross-legged on the blanket.

She patted the spot beside her, and he walked over and sat beside her. She trailed her hand idly down his back.

Wolf-Harry looked at her reproachfully, and Hermione glared right back.

"Don't give me that look!" she said. "Your fur's really soft!"

He shook his head, and then changed back into his human form. Harry stretched out his legs before him and used his arms to support himself as he leaned back.

"Doesn't give you the right to touch it all the time," he said mock-sniffily. "You might muss it up."

"Oh, as if I would ever dream of messing up your hair," she replied sarcastically. "It's always so neat, after all."

She stretched out her hand and ran it through Harry's shock of jet-black hair. She noted that it was quite as soft as it was in his Animagus form. She jerked her hand back as the thought entered her mind. Harry didn't appear to notice.

"It's about time you managed to transform," he said. "I haven't even bothered registering with the Improper Use of Magic Office yet because I've been waiting for you to do it."

"Well, maybe some of us have a bit more sophisticated mindset than others," Hermione replied, waving her wand and making a basket appear in front of her.

"Nah, I don't think so," Harry said as he watched her pull sandwiches and a jug of pumpkin juice from the basket.

Hermione threw a sandwich to him rather forcefully.

"Either way, we can go register tomorrow now that we can both do it," she said, annoyance tingeing her voice.

"Have you told Ron about it?" Harry asked.

"No. Have you told Ginny?"

"Nope."

"When do you intend to tell her?"

"Eventually."

"Eventually?" Hermione said incredulously. "Are you waiting for me to tell them or something?"

"Well, I wasn't," Harry said, "but now that you mention it, that sounds like a pretty good idea."

"And what if I don't tell them?"

"Of course you'll tell them," Harry said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"You sound pretty sure of yourself."

"I'm not," Harry replied. "I'm pretty sure of yourself. It's easy to not mention something over letters, but in person it's a whole other matter entirely."

"And you think I'll crack."

"Yes," Harry said blatantly.

"Well, I won't!" Hermione said furiously. "I'll wait until you tell them!"

"Ten Galleons says you fess up first."

"You're on!" Hermione said, taking a large swig of juice and choking on it.

The rest of lunch passed by with Hermione giving Harry a fretful play-by-play of the N.E.W.T. examinations she had taken last week. Harry assured her that, just as with their O.W.L.s, she would achieve `Outstanding' in almost every single subject, but Hermione would hear nothing of it.

When Hermione's self-induced panic wore off slightly, Harry told her of some of the tasks that had come up recently in his training and revealed that, if all went well, he could officially be an Auror within four weeks.

"Ohmygosh, Harry! Why didn't you say something sooner! You've let me blab on about schoolwork this whole time -"

"Considering this should be the last time you have the chance to `blab' about schoolwork, it was my pleasure to hear your nonsensical ramblings," Harry said.

"But you're finishing, what, two years early?" Hermione asked. "That's absolutely amazing!"

"It's not really that impressive," Harry said sheepishly. "The courses are spread out so much that you don't really need that long if you know your stuff. And they're probably doing me a favor by letting me take the test this early at all."

"That doesn't make it any less amazing!" Hermione said, banishing the basket and blanket with quick wave of her wand.

Harry shrugged noncommittally, and Hermione shook her head at his modesty.

"I suppose I'll see you tonight at the Burrow?" Hermione asked.

Harry perked up at this. "Of course! I need to be there to see you confess everything to Ron and Ginny. And collect my ten Galleons, of course."

"As if," Hermione muttered. "Though I'm not looking forward to telling Ron about it. Or I should say you telling Ron about it. I imagine he'll be furious."

"Of course not!" Harry argued. "He couldn't be mad at you! You're a downright fox!"

Hermione smiled once she had rolled her eyes heavily at this quip.

"Your optimism is cute," she said, standing up to brush herself off.

"Thanks," Harry replied, standing up as well. "You're pretty fuzzy yourself."

************

Hermione arrived at the Burrow later that evening and was displeased to see that Harry was already there, seated comfortably in the living room with the Weasleys. He grinned cheekily.

"Hermione, looking foxy today!" he greeted her unabashedly; Ginny looked at him as though he'd lost his mind. Ron looked similarly disgruntled.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione replied through gritted teeth, moving to sit next to Ron. Before she could sit down, however, Mrs. Weasley had thrown open the door leading to the kitchen.

"Supper's ready!" she announced happily, stirring the contents of a large bowl she held in her arms. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, George, and Mr. Weasley immediately filed into the kitchen and took seats around the food-laden table. Hermione took care to sit as far away from Harry as possible.

Luckily for Hermione, the conversation was soon dominated by Ron and George (whom she noticed were both wearing the magenta robes indigenous to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes).

"…yeah, business has really skyrocketed over the last month," George was saying to his father as he added a liberal amount of gravy to his potatoes. "Can barely keep up with the demand these days."

"Yeah," Ron said, "and damn right little buggers they can be when something's not in stock."

"Now, now, Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley said disapprovingly. "You'll do well to treat anyone who comes into that shop with respect."

"Absolutely," George said, "especially since they're my customers. You know, `always right,' and all that. Plus, you're just miffed that I'm not giving you special treatment."

"Oh, yes you are!" Ron said indignantly. "You're giving me all the grunt-work!"

"Well, maybe you should try to develop a good attitude about it," George said.

"Right, as if I'm going to have a good attitude about tedious busywork."

"Oh, speaking of busywork, I need you to relabel and reorganize the Muggle tricks," George said.

"Woo-hoo!" Ron said, throwing his arms up in mock-celebration.

"That's the spirit!" Mrs. Weasley said, clapping Ron on the back. "And since you seem to be so enthused with work, I'll let you clean up after everyone finishes eating."

"What?!" Ron yelped. "Why're you making me do it?!"

"Don't be so dramatic!" Mrs. Weasley said as she spooned out another helping of peas onto her husband's plate. "It's just a few dishes - don't look at me like that, Ronald, there are plenty of people in the world much less fortunate than you are, chores included!"

"Oh yeah?" Ron said grumpily, crossing his arms. "Who's less fortunate than me?"

"Anyone you date," Ginny answered. "No offense," she added to a slightly affronted Hermione.

"And yet I'm still offended - imagine that," she said crossly.

"So you're still selling Muggle magic tricks?" Harry interrupted, diverting their attention back to George.

"Yep. We've actually expanded beyond card and rope tricks - mostly illusions - and they're selling better than usual as well."

"Illusions, you say?" Mr. Weasley said interestedly. "What exactly are they?"

"Just Muggle tricks to make something look real when it isn't," George said.

"Fascinating!" Mr. Weasley said. "I must see those!"

George immediately waved his wand, and suddenly saws appeared cut into his and Ron's heads.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley gave yelps of surprise. Even Ginny looked mildly shocked. "My goodness!" Mrs. Weasley said, clutching her heart.

George grinned as he lifted the contraption from his hair, revealing the two sides of the saw that fit snuggly on each side of his head. "My personal favorite from the Muggle section."

"That's barbaric!" Mrs. Weasley said.

"I think they're brilliant," Ginny said, taking the "saw" from George and observing it closely. An exuberant Mr. Weasley bent over to inspect it as well.

"I have half a mind to agree," Ron said seriously, flicking the edge of the saw still attached to his head.

"Surely you've been working on other things, though," Harry said.

"Absolutely! I've actually just perfected a new product - simple, but effective." George flourished his wand once more, and a wooden box roughly the size of a large jewelry box appeared on his now empty plate. The others bent forward curiously.

"Be prepared to be astounded," George said, and he flipped the lid of the box open without further ado.

At first Hermione thought that the box was broken. And then an absolutely putrid scent reached her nostrils.

"Eeewwww!" Ginny said, tugging the collar of her shirt up to her eyes.

Hermione pinched her nose tightly, holding her breath and attempting not to gag.

"And what exactly is so astounding about that!" Mrs. Weasley said angrily from behind the dish towel pressed to her face.

"Nothing, really," said George pleasantly, seeming rather unfazed by the smell. "Just a gag. ("Gag indeed," Ginny muttered, gagging) Tell your friends to fetch something from the box and watch as they turn five different shades of green. Or vomit. Whichever comes first."

"And what exactly do you call this brilliant little device?" Hermione said in as scathing a voice she could manage with a pinched nose.

"Actually haven't come up with a name yet."

"What do you call something that just occupies space and smells bad?" Ginny said thoughtfully from behind her shirt. After a moment she turned to Ron, her brow furrowed. "What was your name again?"

"Very funny!" Ron said, glaring at Ginny as everyone but Mrs. Weasley chortled. "And will you shut that box already?!"

"No need to get snappy with me," said George. He closed the box, and the air immediately became odor-free.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Ginny said, lowering her shirt. "Great idea, George. Really, just top-notch."

"And you wonder why people don't take you seriously," Mrs. Weasley said crossly. "What with those sort of products and those outrageous uniforms -"

"Hey, Angelina likes them! And I've stopped wearing it to Muggle business meetings!" George said indignantly. "Apparently I'm not credible in violently magenta robes." He crossed his arms moodily. "I don't think it's fair that they judge me by my clothes."

"Angelina?" Hermione said.

"Yeah, didn't Ron tell you? I'm dating her."

Harry thumped Ginny on the back as she choked on a roll.

"You're dating Angelina? Angelina Johnson?" she wheezed. "Good news, Hermione; I've found someone even less fortunate than you!"

After second helpings of rhubarb crumble, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny retreated to the living room, talking of their individual plans now that they were all officially finished with Hogwarts; George had returned to the joke shop, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had remained chatting in the kitchen.

"I've actually already talked with Gwenog Jones," Ginny said. "She said that this might be her last year as captain, but she sounds very interested to see me play - wants some new blood on the team."

"That's great, Ginny!" Ron said happily.

"Thanks, Ron. You know, I really thought that you'd get greedy about this, but I can see that I-"

"So can you get me tickets?" Ron said eagerly, clearly having ignored Ginny speaking.

"-was completely right," Ginny sighed in aggravation. "And I'm not on the team yet. She only agreed to let me try-out."

"You know you're a shoe-in," Harry said dismissively. "You're one of the best Chasers I've ever seen."

Ginny beamed, patting her boyfriend approvingly on the shoulder, before turning to Hermione.

"What about you? Still thinking about being an Auror?"

"Not especially," Hermione said. "I do have an interview at the Ministry, though."

"Which department?" Ginny inquired.

"Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"Don't tell me you're still on about that spew stuff!" Ron said. "That's absolutely mad!"

"Mad?" Harry said innocently. "What do you mean?"

Ron looked confused. "You know, it's…it's mental, er - it's ridiculous… it's crazy -"

"Crazy like a fox!" Harry said triumphantly.

Hermione buried her face in her hands. "Should've seen that one coming," she muttered to herself. Harry seemed quite keen to break her into confessing about their Animagus lessons. Well, two could play at that game.

"Why Harry," Hermione said, "what big ears you have!"

"Why Hermione," Harry replied without missing a beat, "what big teeth you had!"

Hermione's mouth dropped open. That one she certainly hadn't seen coming.

"Harry!" she spluttered. "Why - how could - not even - not even remotely-"

Harry chuckled as Ginny and Ron roared with laughter.

"That was a low blow," Hermione whispered mutinously.

"Just working with what you give me," Harry whispered back, shrugging. "And I'll have you know that I'm very sensitive about my ear size."

Hermione simply continued to glare as Ron and Ginny regained control of themselves.

"So, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Ginny said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "Are you really going to join that department because you want to continue spew?"

"S.P.E.W.! And that's not the complete reason, but yes, I wouldn't mind furthering it," Hermione said defensively. "I really want to do a lot more with the whole Department - mainly the Beings division. Did you know that they still have werewolves under the Beasts section? They do have a subdivision in the Beings section as well, but I've heard that it's ridiculously small and mismanaged. Centaurs are under the Beasts division as well, and they're more intelligent than a lot of wizards. And it's not as though goblins and house-elves are treated right even though they are under the Beings category-"

She cut off suddenly, looking slightly embarrassed.

Harry grinned at Hermione's passionate speech. "You're such a little vixen when you get riled up."

Hermione groaned as both Ron and Ginny frowned at Harry's choice of words.

"What's up with all these comments about Hermione?" Ron said, a hint of anger in his voice.

Unfazed by Ron and Ginny's accusatory stares, Harry shrugged again. "What can I say? Hermione's a fox."

"Damn it, Harry!" Hermione finally shouted as Ginny and Ron leapt to their feet. "Are you trying to make trouble!?" Harry smiled innocuously, raising his hand and rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.

She turned aggravatingly to look at Ron and Ginny.

"We're Animagi," she said, crossing her arms in agitation.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" Ron said furiously, disregarding this statement in light of Harry's behavior.

Ginny, however, laughed in relief. "Ron, you dolt, Harry's been dropping hints about their Animagus forms! I take it you're a fox, Hermione?"

"Yes," said Hermione grudgingly. "And I'm also short ten Galleons."

Comprehension dawned on Ron's face after a moment, and was soon replaced with a look of awe.

"Really? You're both Animagi?" he said, mouth agape. "That's absolutely bloody brilliant!"

"When did you both have time for that?" Ginny asked.

Harry had the grace to look apologetic. "I've been practicing with Hermione at Hogwarts in the Room of Requirement."

As expected, Ginny flared up almost instantly.

"I've barely seen you in months and you're telling me that you've been going to Hogwarts on a regular basis and didn't even bother dropping in to see me?!" she said furiously.

Harry held up his hands. "I'm sorry, Gin, but Professor McGonagall made me swear not to interrupt your studying."

Hermione raised an eyebrow - McGonagall had made him swear no such thing.

Ginny seemed to wilt slightly at this news, but she still looked resentful. "You could've snuck to see me," she muttered.

"And you could've told me," Ron said, also sounding a bit resentful. "I might've wanted to become an Animagus."

Thankfully, Ron continued speaking before Harry or Hermione could spout off apologetic excuses.

"So, what're you Harry?" Ron asked, now sounding excited.

"Wolf," Harry replied simply.

"Brilliant!" Ron said again. "Can you show us?"

"Right now?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah! Why not?"

"Alright," Hermione said slowly. "I suppose we might want to go out-"

But Harry had already transformed into the large wolf. Ginny leapt back in alarm as she noticed this too, for Harry was sitting next to her on the sofa. He licked her cheek swiftly.

"Oh, get a room," Hermione said, amused and annoyed, and changed into her fox form. She was astonished to see how tall Ron appeared.

"Bloody hell," Ron said as he looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione. "Way to over-achieve, guys. Geez."

With that, Harry and Hermione both mutated back into their original selves, smirks on their faces.

"To be fair, Animagus transformation is a useful tool for Aurors," Harry said. "So, really, Hermione's the only over-achiever in this equation."

"Yeah, but Hermione's been an over-achiever since, like, birth. She was probably trying to beat the other babies in the hospital out of the birth canal. You, on the other hand, have no excuses. I know full well that there are other ways to disguise yourself." Ron fixed him with an aggrieved look. "You've sunk to her level!"

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione said.

"No problem," Ron said, missing the sarcasm in her voice and placing an arm around her shoulder. "Anytime."

"How long have you been practicing to become Animagi, anyway?" Ginny asked.

"About a half a year," Harry said vaguely.

"How do you do it?"

"Well, there's a really complicated potion that you have to make, which takes about a month, and then you drink the potion -" Hermione said.

"-and then you have to do some really intense meditation," Harry said hastily.

"What's the potion do?" Ginny asked.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other furtively.

"Nothing," they said together.

"Just makes you able to transform," Hermione said nervously.

"And nothing else at all," Harry said firmly.

Ginny, not being especially dimwitted, looked at them suspiciously, but, apparently fathoming nothing to inquire about, kept silent. At least for a moment. She turned her attention to her boyfriend.

"So. Harry. Now that I'm finished with Hogwarts, I figured I should move in with you."

Hermione was suddenly glad that none of them had brought drinks into the living room with them, because she was quite sure that the majority of both Ron's and Harry's would have been spewed over the room.

"What?!" spluttered Harry.

"You. Me. Living together," Ginny repeated, nonplussed.

Ron leapt from the sofa for the second time. "WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" he bellowed. "YOU GRADUATED THIS BLOODY MORNING!!"

"Exactly," Ginny said seriously. "No time like the present."

"THERE'S NO WAY YOU'RE GOING TO MOVE IN WITH HARRY!!"

"That's not your decision," Ginny said. "It's Harry's."

She looked expectantly at Harry, who looked very much like he was about to face a Hungarian Horntail with his arms tied behind his back.

He shot a terrified look at Hermione, who shrugged. Nothing could help him now.

"So?" Ginny said.

"Er," Harry said. He swallowed uneasily.

"Well?" Ginny said, the beginnings of rage evident in her fiery expression.

"Er," Harry began again. He shot a helpless look at Ron. "I suppose, er, if that's what you, uh, want -"

All traces of fury disappeared from Ginny's face so rapidly that Hermione wondered if she had been angry at all.

"Excellent!" she said happily. "Let's go tell Mum." And with that she pulled a bewildered and horrified Harry up by the arm and frog-marched him into the kitchen.

"Let's take a walk, shall we?" Ron said, staring uneasily after them.

"Yes, let's," Hermione said quickly, hearing Ginny's cheerful voice beginning to speak.

They hadn't even made it outside before Mrs. Weasley's yells echoed through the house.

"YOU WANT TO WHAT?!"

Ron and Hermione sped up, and soon left the noise behind.

They walked in silence for a while, Ron's hands deep in his pockets and Hermione's arms crossed, both deep in thought. Hermione stared at the ground, chewing her lip, her stomach strangely clenched and uncomfortable. Finally Ron spoke.

"So… Harry and Ginny."

His tone was surprisingly light, considering his previous anger at the idea of his little sister living in the mansion of his best male friend. Even the brevity and vagueness of the sentence suggested that he was testing the waters with Hermione, broaching the subject carefully in the hopes of coaxing out her opinion.

"Yeah," Hermione said, her voice cracking slightly as she struggled to keep her anger in check. Ron was glancing sideways at her, his eyebrows raised and his gaze searching, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't he spoke, rather impatiently.

"Well? What do you think?"

Hermione continued to stare stubbornly at the path ahead of her, taking a deep breath and speaking through slightly clenched teeth. Her voice, however, was quite calm.

"What's there to think of it? It's their decision after all. And even though it might seem a little … rash… they are both of age. And despite Ginny's, er, eccentricities, I'd be lying if I didn't believe them both capably mature enough to handle this kind of commitment; especially considering everything they've endured over the last few years."

Hermione stopped talking abruptly and, still gazing hard and unseeingly ahead of her, quickened her pace markedly. Ron lengthened his stride and caught up quickly, falling in step beside her again. He didn't speak immediately, and seemed to be steeling himself for something. Eventually he cleared his throat loudly.

"You know, Harry and Ginny moving in together has got me thinking -"

"How could it have gotten you thinking?" she said disbelievingly. "They discussed it less than five minutes ago, and there's the fact that there's a good chance it won't happen. At least if Mrs. Weasley has anything to say about it," she added under her breath. She could scarcely remember ever wishing the Weasley matron a victory so fiercely.

Her interruption seemed to have cost Ron the little nerve he had scrounged up to speak in the first place, and she slowed her pace slightly.

"Sorry," she apologized. "Go on. What's Harry and Ginny caused you to think about?"

"Well…about us really."

Hermione slowed her pace once more, almost coming to a halt.

"About…us."

"Uh…" Ron suddenly found a spot on his shirt very interesting. "Yeah."

"What about us, exactly?" Hermione asked, a sense of foreboding welling up inside her.

Ron seemed to be regretting broaching the subject at all, but knew he'd gone too far to stop now.

"About us…" - his voice lowered significantly until he was mumbling - "moving in with each other."

This time Hermione really did come to a halt. She fixed Ron with a blank stare, and he averted his eyes quickly, choosing instead to stare at his shoes.

"You think that we should move in with each other," Hermione stated rather neutrally.

Ron nodded at his shoes.

"You think that you - an eighteen-year-old wizard who works at a joke-shop - and I - an unemployed nineteen-year-old witch - should rent or buy a flat when we've only been seriously dating for less than six months," she said, the neutrality quickly leaning towards negativity.

Ron once again gave affirmation to his feet.

"Are you mental?" she said. Definitely some bitterness there now.

This statement caused Ron to lift his head.

"It's not mental!" he said furiously, turning to face her more fully. "Ginny and Harry are both younger than us, and they don't seem to find anything wrong with it!"

"For one, Harry and Ginny have been dating about a year longer than we have. Secondly, if you were paying Harry even the slightest bit of attention, you'd have noticed that he didn't seem particularly enthused about the idea - and that's putting it lightly. And thirdly, since when do all relationships have to be identical?! Just because Harry and Ginny are doing something, doesn't mean we have to! This isn't some competition!"

Hermione could barely see Ron's face due to the darkness around them, but she could see enough to know that these statements, particularly the last bit concerning Harry as competition, had struck a cord. Ron once again resumed his staring at the ground, looking thoroughly dejected.

Mollified somewhat, Hermione softened her tone considerably.

"Look, Ron," she said, putting a comforting hand on his arm, "it's not as if I'm not serious about us. Because I am. But if you would be honest with yourself, you would know that neither of us is ready for this kind of commitment - at least not yet," she added when Ron continued to look crestfallen. "This isn't a rejection. More of a…rain-check."

Ron sighed heavily. "You're right," he said quietly. "It's too much. Maybe in a few months…"

Hermione was quite skeptical of even this time-frame, but decided to leave it alone for the time being.

"I'm sorry," he continued glumly. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay, Ron," she said, and, feeling it was the appropriate thing to do, stepped closer to envelop him in a hug, which he returned gratefully. As they walked back to the house, Hermione was overwhelmed by a deep sense of change for the second time that day, the first having occurred during her final minutes of her last Arithmancy class. She had left Hogwarts, and she and the rest of her friends were rapidly on their way to acquiring careers and lives astronomically different from anything they had ever known.

And, with a sense of sadness and excitement, she acknowledged that the changes would only be coming more and more swiftly in the days to come.

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