019

I still feel like I'm flying by the time I get out of the shower. I mean, Merlin! Where is Hermione and who is this goddess that's taken her place? And if this creature has been hiding inside my prim and proper best friend the entire time? The next time I see Krum I'm going to break his fucking face.

Ron's too. 

Especially Ron.

One, because he wanted my girl, and now I find that pisses me off. Two, because he was a fucking moron who couldn't land my girl, and that's just insulting to her.

I didn't bring clothes with me into the loo. Because all the blood in my head was still pooling in my dick and I wasn't thinking clearly. But that means I have to leave the bathroom in nothing but a towel.

Just because she was okay with that earlier, doesn't mean she's ready for me to be walking around the bedroom naked. I'm not sure that I'm ready to walk around the bedroom naked. Mi made an excellent point about fifteen-year-old boy's hormones, and mine have been flying at full mast since she stood up in that bathtub. With rivulets of water dripping from her breasts and those fucking curls pulled long and damp and covering her shoulders.

I'm hard again.

Fuck.

I latch the towel around my waist and try to feel her out before I leave.

That little bundle of thoughts and feelings that I associate with Hermione burns in the back of my brain. It sings with delight and contentment. 

It doesn't help my hard-on in the least.

I'll just make a run from the bathroom to the closet.

I pull open the door and come to a halt when I take in the scene in front of me. The bedroom's been changed in the ten minutes I was in the shower. There are now two bedside tables on either side of the bed, my old muggle alarm clock plugged in and glowing green. Vases of flowers sit on each, and a selection of books rests on the side of the bed that Hermione sleeps on.

Eight thirty. Huh.

I thought it was later than that.

The trunks are gone, replaced by a couch. Why is there a couch when the bed is literally right there?

There's a scarlet rug in front of the banked fire, and a container of floo power on a tiny table off to the side of the hearth. 

Hermione is perched in front of a dressing table, a large silver gilded mirror showing her reflection. The chair she's sitting on…well, it's more like a low backed throne. Behind her, Winky stands elevated on a step stool, twisting Hermione's hair into a complicated braid trailing down her back.

The vanity is covered with delicate little bottles, and a brush and hand mirror, which seems pointless to me. But I'm not a girl. 

Or Winky. 

"Not one word Harry Potter," Hermione hisses, and my chest heaves with silent laughter that I try to keep contained.

I raise my hands to show I mean no harm, then quickly drop them to the towel when I feel it loosening.

I take two more steps before I'm pulled to a stop again. I turn in a circle, counting the doors currently in the room. The main, the bathroom, the closet and…

"Is there another door? Or did I not notice it yesterday?"

"You needed more storage," Winky replies without taking her eyes from her self-appointed task. "Winky unwarded the second closet."

Swell. 

"Why do we need more storage?" I ask, then at the glare Hermione shoots me, I shut my mouth, and make my way across the bedroom. 

Dobby hung up all my clothes, which was pointless. Because I only have enough to last a week without washing, and all of it is going in the trash anyway. I grab the jeans I wore yesterday out of the hamper and start opening drawers in the wardrobe until I find my pants. I see Hermione's first, and it takes all my self-control not to run my fingers through them and pull some out to look. Maybe steal a pair. 

Though, since we're sharing a room, and a bed, and I just came in my fucking pants with her grinding on my cock, I don't think that's going to be an issue.

Hermione's side of the closet is bursting with clothing. Shoes are lined up on a rack underneath. How in Merlin's name did all of Hermione's belongings make it into Grimmauld Place already?

Crack!

"Dobby brings food, Master," Dobby yells, then disappears before I even see him. Winky's sigh of disapproval is telling. I hear it all the way in the closet. I cringe in sympathy for the little guy. I wonder if he realizes he'll be reporting to Winky yet? Because if Hermione is my boss, then Winky is surely his. 

I'd rather face Voldemort without my wand then tell Hermione she doesn't run this rodeo.

Once I have my pants on, I make my way back out into the main chamber.

Winky curtseys, disapproval rife as she glances at my bare legs and boxer briefs, then she too disappears.

Mi huffs in irritation.

"We're not in control over them at all, are we?" Hermione asks, examining her reflection in the mirror. 

She's lovely.

Beautiful. 

Breathtaking.

Her hair is braided like a fairytale princess, and I think she has actual flowers woven through the strands. She's wearing a yellow sundress that flares around her hips and stops at her knees. I don't think I've ever seen it before. She's blooming.

Literally.

There's a glow emitting from around her body, like a Lumos on low wattage.

I shake my head to clear it of her buzz.

"Sure, you are. Just tell her what to do."

"I can't do that!" Hermione insists in outrage.

"Then I think you're stuck," I smile.

"Hmft," Mi pouts. 

I notice she's still looking at her reflection. 

A banging comes at the door as I'm pulling my jeans up over my hips.

"OI! Wake up!" Ron yells through the wood, and I roll my eyes.

"Decent?" Hermione asks.

"For Ron? Yeah," I scoff, zipping up my bottoms.

She pulls open the door and sticks her tongue out at him, moving aside to let him come in.

"Mom won't let us eat until the master of the house comes down," he scoffs, and the look of disgust on his face tells me what he thinks about that. He heads straight to the table where Dobby left tea and toast and lifts a piece from the pile. 

"I'm starving," he growls.

"Sorry about that," I say honestly, pulling a shirt over my head. "How is she this morning?"

"Pissed," he says through a mouth full of food.

"Why?" Hermione asks, and my stomach drops out when I realize I didn't tell her what I said to Molly.

Ron chuckles, grinning ear to ear.

"Harry went off on her. Only not like how he usually does it. All screaming and scary, you know?"

Hermione nods at him, encouraging him to go on.

"He gets all low and quiet. Tells Mom that he's in charge and that you belong to him and that if she didn't like it then she could get out of the house. It was wicked."

That's not—

I didn't…

"Harry James Potter-Black!" Hermione snaps, and my head flops back on my neck.

"It wasn't like that," I try to assure her. "But I am sorry, Ron, that I upset her so much."

Ron smirks at me.

"Don't be. It was awesome. I haven't seen her that mad at someone who wasn't one of us in ages. It was kinda nice to see her yelling at someone else. I thought her head was going to pop off. She sent us all off to bed and Dad and Remus trotted her down to the kitchen to ply her with Firewhiskey. Fred and George pulled out those new extendible ear things they made so we could have a listen. She's right pissed, Mate. It's going to take you weeks of sucking up to get back on her good side."

I snort through my nose.

Not likely.

"Nope," I say. "Hermione's gonna fix it in one go."

Ron shoots me a disbelieving glance, before moving to explore the room. He peeks behind the curtains, then walks over to the closet.

"Last night Mum was talking about sending the Grangers a letter to tell them that 'Mione's been sneaking into your room at night."

Hermione chokes and sputters, and I feel the buzz of her panic through the bond.

I scrunch up my face and shake my head no at her. 

It'll be fine.

I go over to the table and pour a cuppa tea.

"Blimey, Harry," Ron yells from the loo. "You could swim in this bathtub."

"I noticed," I mumble under my breath, and heat fills that link between Mi and me.

I look over towards my wife, who's watching me with curious eyes. She's got a set of books in her hands, one of which I recognize as the Bond Mate book Ragnok gave her yesterday.

"Did you really tell her I belong to you?" she questions quietly.

"Yes," I say. I mean, no. But basically. "Sorry," I apologize.

She smiles at me, coming from around the bed.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Harry. I am yours. The sooner everyone comes to grips with that the easier this will be for them."

"Just like that?" I ask her, eyes wide with surprise.  I didn't expect her to take any of this nearly as well as she has. Hermione has always fought tooth and nail against destiny and prophecy. I expected screaming and stomping. I expected her to tell me to bugger off and that no man would tell her what to do.

Hearing her happily refer to herself as my wife and waking up to her legs around my waist has been a little disconcerting.

"Just like that," she agrees and a feeling that I have no words for spills into my blood.

Hermione tries to move past me, but I lunge for her, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her in until her back is against my chest. Her laugh is infectious, the long lines of her throat begging for attention when she drops her head to my shoulder and giggles with startled amusement.

"Har-ry," she says, and with my other hand I tilt her neck and kiss her, upside down and sideways. I kiss her until she moans against my lips and sags against my hold. 

"Oi!" Ron yells coming back into the main room. He looks away, lifting his hands as if warding off a blow. I can't help but chuckle at the extreme reaction. "I thought we had an agreement. No snogging in front of me!"

"Can't help it, Mate," I say, dipping in to kiss her again. She latches onto my top lip and sucks, and I do the same to her bottom. Gods, I wonder if we could kick Ron out and spend the rest of the day experimenting.  It seems now that I have permission to kiss her, I'm struggling to stop. "Besides, you're in our room. All bets are off in here."

"I wouldn't be here if you'd hurry up. I'm hungry!"

Yeah, yeah.

I let go of Mi, who sighs at the loss of contact.

If we didn't have shit to do today, I'd never leave the room.

I stalk back into the closet, finding only my new boots on the shoe rack.

Where are my shoes? I look in the main room, but they aren't there either. I don't know where they put our trunks.

"Dobby!" I holler, and both Dobby, and Winky appear at my summons. 

"Where's my trainers, Dobby?" 

Dobby opens his mouth to answer, but at a glare from Winky, puts his hands behind his back and bows his head in silence. She curtsies at me before she answers, holding out the edges of her baby doll pink dress.

"They's been thrown away, Master. They's disgusting. Wear the Dragonhide boots. Winky made sure they are ready for yous."

Ron sniggers through crumbs. Hermione gloats through the bond. She sits on the newly installed couch, slipping on a pair of sandals. Her grin is almost devilish, as she smirks up at me from half bent over. 

I can see right down her dress. Her bra is pink lace. She's so lovely she makes my mouth water. Would it be inappropriate if I asked her to change? Maybe sweats and a jumper? I don't like that so many men will be looking at her and thinking the same thing I am.

How beautiful she is.

Not so funny now, is it?

I close my eyes, breathing heavily through my nose. Thank goodness she isn't reading my thoughts.

Right. Winky's gone power mad.

"Dobby, do you think you could go shopping for me? I need pants and stuff that fit me better. New trainers, I guess." I hope I keep the disgruntlement from my voice.

Winky answers. Dobby's shoulders droop.

"Winky will take care of it, Master. Winky will be you's personal elf. Winky already has a list from Mrs. Weasley about what we's need for the house. Winky will take care of Master's list too. I'll ensure yous is befitting the head of the family."

I think back to the suits Draco always wears, even in the middle of summer hols.

"I can't wear dragonhide and pinstripes all the time, Winky. I need jeans. T-shirts. Clothes I can duel and practice in."

"Winky will take care of it," she says again, a firmness in her voice.

We can go shopping ourselves, Hermione floats through my brain.

I'd rather wear the suits.

"Fine," I give up, and Dobby silently walks into the closet then returns with the boots in his grip, handing them to me with a sheepish look on his face. "Thank you, Winky, for taking care of us. And for breakfast. Though I think we'll eat our meals with the others."

Winky tilts her head in a sign of acknowledgment. 

"If yous wish to dine with the family and not alone with Mrs., Winky will speak with the Mistress about the menus for the week."

Hermione jerks upright, looking panicked.

"Mrs. Weasley will handle all of that," I rush to tell the little elf. "If you'd like, you can discuss those matters with her. She runs the house. Mi has too many other things to worry about than what to plan for dinner."

Winky seems to think about it, then gives a final curtsey.

"Winky will discuss the needs of Master Harry's household with Mrs. Weasley then. If you's don't need anything else, Master, Winky has her chores to finish."

I look at Hermione, who shrugs and stands.

"No, Winky. We're good. Are you okay Dobby?"

Dobby lifts his head and meets my eye, before glancing at Winky and lowering his gaze back to the floor.

"Dobby is happy to serve, Master," he says by rote, then winks at me after Winky disappears before following her away.

"Wow," Ron says, and I can't help but agree.

"Think it'll do any good if we fight her on it?" I ask.

Hermione and Ron both shake their heads no.

"Great. She's going to dress me like a pureblood, isn't she?"

"Yup," Ron says, eating the final piece of toast.  

I sit on the loveseat to pull on my boots.

Here I thought Dobby would be the difficult one.

"Back to Molly," I say. "We're going to walk into that kitchen, and I want you to go straight to Mrs. Weasley. Hug her, tell her what a prat I am and that you already yelled at me for how disrespectful I am. Then tell her that you need her help with the house. It's been in disrepair for years and need updating. You do want it updated, right?" I confirm.

"I don't want to listen to Mrs. Black screech for the next three years."

"But do you want to handle it? I mean, do you really care?"

"Not in the slightest," she confirms.

"Hand Molly a checkbook and tell her to go to town. She'll be delighted."

Ron speaks up from the second closet.

"That's bloody genius, Harry."

I smile at him when he comes back into the room.

"I thought of it last night. What better way to get her back on our side than to give her a job she'll adore that we don't want to do?"

"She can micromanage construction workers instead of us all day," Hermione adds, smiling with pride.

"All you have to do, Mi, is bat your eyes and pucker your lips and she'll be yours."

She doubletakes, lifting her brow at me.

"Did you just quote the Little Mermaid to me?"

I chuckle when I realize that yeah, I kind of did.

"Petunia loved that movie," I say in lieu of an answer.

I walk over to the wall, where the scabbard has been hung on an intricate looking display shelf. There are spots for several additional blades as well. I wonder if I shouldn't take a longer gander at what sort of weapons are sitting around in those vaults.

The scabbard disappears as soon as it's over my shoulders.

"What's a movie?" Ron says, his head tilted to the side like a lost puppy. 

"Send Winky to buy a TV and VCR too," I tell Mi, and she laughs and takes my hand, leading me into the hallway.

"Am I the only one terrified of this?" Hermione says, looking between Ron and me. "I mean, if Winky and Mrs. Weasley start battling for dominance of the kitchen, it could get ugly, fast."

Ron pales at the thought, and I actually see him shudder when he shuts the bedroom door.

"That's, that's scary it what that is," he says, and I feel a shudder run down my own spine. I've seen Mrs. Weasley when she really lets it go. "Winky may be tiny, but I bet she could give Mum a run for her money."

"Best not to think about it," I say.

~**~

Ron proceeds us into the kitchen. Everyone is already lounging about. Sirius and Remus have their heads together at the end of the table. The twins have parchment spread between them, each of them with a quill. Ginny is reading a book on Quidditch, and barely glances up when we enter the room.

"Finally," George says. "The Master is here," Fred joins in, jumping from his chair and bowing at the waist. George curtsies instead.

"Bugger off," I tell them, and Remus laughs under his breath. I walk straight into the kitchen and give Mrs. Weasley a one-armed hug. "I'm sorry," I whisper. She stands there stiff as a board, not making any effort to return the gesture.

Giving up, I grab a seat next to Ron.

"Your spot is at the head, dear," Mrs. Weasley says tightly, walking to the table behind Kreacher and floating platters of food over. As soon as the plates hit the table, there's a mad dash for breakfast.

"That's really not necessary, Mrs. Weasley," I say, hoping I sound sincere.

Hermione takes that moment to enter the room, shooting me an exaggeratedly disdainful glare.

"Honestly, Harry!" she says in that tone of voice that could rival the Queen's for peevishness.

She walks up to Mrs. Weasley, lowering her eyes and holding her hands together in supplication over her stomach.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Weasley, for the way Harry treated you last night. I can't believe he spoke to you in those tones. After everything you've done for him! I've given him a right talking to." 

Hermione shoots me a dirty look over her shoulder.

"We'll have to send my parents away, as you know, for their safety. You're the only mother I'll be able to speak to about these things…" She pulls Mrs. Weasley deeper into the kitchen and lowers her voice, both of them shooting me looks over their shoulders every few seconds. 

"That was inspired, Pup," Sirius chuckles, and Remus nods in agreement.

"James would be proud," he adds.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, piling sausage and eggs onto a plate for Mi before helping myself.

My attention is dragged into the corner when Mrs. Weasley pulls Hermione in for a rib-breaking hug.

Help me… Floats through my mind in Hermione's panicked tone.

"Come eat before it gets cold, Mi," I raise my voice and call at her.

Thank you, she sighs.

"Or before Ron eats it all," Sirius adds.

Ron flips him off.

Hermione finally slides into the chair next to me.

"Do we have any coffee?" she asks, and half the table looks at her askance. "What?" she demands. "I won't apologize for enjoying a nice latte every now and then."

She pours herself a cup of tea, doctoring it and resting it next to her juice. 

A comfortable silence falls while everybody eats, until Sirius decides to open his fat mouth.

"How'd you sleep, Hermione?"

Mrs. Weasley's head snaps up from her plate.

I kick him under the table, and he hisses in pain, bending in half to rub at the wound.

Hermione, used to chaos around her thanks to Ron and me and the Gryffindor boys she's always surrounded by, ignores it with aplomb.

"Good," she says, lowering her fork and opening one of her books. "Best night sleep I've had in weeks, to be honest. I haven't had time to do more than glance through the Bond Mate book that Ragnok loaned me, but it looks like physical distance makes a big difference. Not that we can't be separated, obviously. But being sequestered from the other person makes everything more difficult, sleeping included."

I haven't even processed everything I learned yesterday, and Hermione is already building hypotheses.

"Which makes sense. Because how can you rest when half of your soul is somewhere else? I should have realized something was up that first night I had Winky take me to Privet Drive. I couldn't sleep more than an hour at a time since we'd gotten off the train. As soon as I saw Harry that night, I drifted right off to sleep. But still, sneaking into Harry's room after midnight and having Winky bring me back home before six so my parents didn't find out wasn't exactly conducive to a good night's rest."

She's flipping through pages, careful to keep the book clean and safe. She doesn't realize that almost everyone at the table has stopped eating, and it is watching her with widened eyes.

Remus clears his throat in an uncomfortable sort of way, but when I look at him, his face is alight with an expression I recognize well enough. The scholar prepping to learn a new subject. 

"How did you sleep at Hogwarts, if I may ask?" Remus questions. "Was it easier since you were at least in the same building?"

Ron answers before Mi can even open her mouth.

"Oh, they slept together every night since they kissed." 

He blushes a fiery red when he realizes what he's said, his ears going scarlet.

"What our dear brother meant to say," George starts when the air gets so thick it becomes hard to breathe. "Is Harmony here, took to sleeping on the common room couch together," Fred finishes.

"She snuck into the dorms once or twice too," Ron chips in, trying and failing to fix the hole he dug for himself.

"Harmony?" 

Hermione looks at the twins, her face scrunched up in confusion.

"Like it?" George asks. "'Harry and Hermione' is so time-consuming to say," Fred says. "Time is money, after all." "So, we shortened it."

Only years of watching them communicate keeps me from getting nauseous when they bander back and forth like that. 

Hermione's face blanks, her surprise tingling up my spine, then she turns from them without a word.

"It wasn't done on purpose," she tells Remus, picking up their conversation as if it was never interrupted. "The first night we fell asleep talking. The second night I couldn't sleep and went into the common room and found him there. The third night I fell asleep in the library."

"I was watching her read," I pipe up.

"He helped me back to the dorm and since he can't go up the girl's side, he took me up to his bunk to crash."

"I was trying to be considerate. Those couches are hard on the back."

Remus is following the conversation with wide eyes, the same expression Hermione wears when she's following a lesson in class. 

"Fascinating," he says, then rises from his seat next to Sirius to take the open chair next to Hermione. "It was as if you were seeking the other out, without realizing it." 

"Exactly!" Hermione agrees, excitement zooming through her like electricity.

Mi pushes her plates away, sets aside her drinks, and turns her entire body to face Remus. They put their heads together and start flipping through the Bond Mate book.

"I think you lost your wife, Pup," Sirius jokes.

"We had a good run," I say back. "But the heart wants what the heart wants."

Hermione and Remus don't even look up.

Shaking my head, I turn my attention to Ron and talk of The Chudley Cannons.

The table has long been cleared when Sirius bangs his knuckles on the wood.

"Plans for the day?" he asks, and Mi pulls her head away from discussing who knows what with Remus.

"Diagon Alley." 

He opens his mouth to object I'm sure, and I raise my hand to shut him up. 

"We're not looking to go alone, so don't start in on the lectures. Everyone is welcome to come, so long as I hit the spots I need to hit. Plus, I'm planning on having Hermione glamour us, so we won't have to deal with the 'Look it's Harry Potter,' hassle."

"We're in," the twins say as one.

"Sounds good to me," Ron agrees. 

Ginny shakes her head no and leaves the table.

Hermione watches her go with a glint in her eyes. That's not a good sign.

"Moony?" I ask, and he looks to Sirius before nodding, a smile wide on his face.

"The full moon isn't for two weeks. A day in Diagon Alley sounds splendid."

I look at my wife.

"Ready, then?"

"Shoot," Mi says, wiping her face. "I forgot my bag upstairs."

Hermione doesn't so much as stand from the table before Winky pops in, holding an embossed leather satchel in her hands.

"Master left his behind as well," she says politely, placing the waist pack on the table next to me.

"I—," have no idea what to say, and Winky looks up at me with those blinking brown eyes with a knowing smirk on her face.

"That's scary," Ron breathes.

Agreed.

"Now you know why Crouch fell apart without her," Hermione says, and Winky doubles in size at the praise.

"Winky does what she can," the elf says snottily, and Remus chokes on his tea.

Mi shoots him a dirty look, then reaches into her bag. Her hand searches about in a way that's painfully familiar to me. When in the hell did she have the chance to put an undetectable extension charm on a new purse?

"Kreacher, could you come here for a moment?" Mi muses distractedly. "I wanted to talk to you about your pay. Might as well do it now. You too Dobby," she says loudly. 

Dobby cracks in at her side.

"Pay?" Winky squeaks.

Hermione nods her head succinctly. 

"Yes," she insists. Winky's sigh is audible but not as disrespectful as the one she used on Dobby.

"Very well then," Winky agrees, and you'd think Mi just sentenced her to a week's Detention. 

She hands all three elves leather change purses.

"You each have an account with Gringotts. Your pay will be deposited directly inside. Plus, you can each pull from the Potter-Black household funds for any purchases made for people that live in the house."

Dobby takes his money bag happily until he sees Winky's disapproval. Then he lowers his head. Kreacher just looks confused. Winky reaches for hers like it's a poisonous snake.

"Do you three know how to read?" Mi asks

"Of course," Winky answers. "Winky knows how to run a proper household." The perceived interpretation being that neither of the other elves do.

"No, Mistress," Kreacher says in his deep scratchy voice.

"No, Mr. Harry Potter's Mi," Dobby intones.

Hermione smiles at the elves, and the Weasley boys take turns making sarcastic comments about her need to rescue the creatures and how she better not turn them off their cooking.

Mi's nose lifts in the air, but she doesn't design to comment back.

"That's alright. Once everyone is settled in, we'll start weekly lessons. I want you both reading by the time we go back to Hogwarts."

"Yous will teach Dobby how to read?" Dobby asks with happiness, his big ears flapping in excitement.

"I'll help you learn anything you want to," she assures him, and I swear I see Winky and Mrs. Weasley both roll their eyes. 

"Thank you, Mistress," Winky says, then curtseys to Hermione. "Winky will ensure that Dobby and Kreacher can do their duty. Is there anything else we's can help you with?"

Hermione looks at me, and I shrug.

"Stop bowing and curtseying?" I ask.

Dobby shakes his head no sullenly.

It was worth a shot.

"No, Winky," Hermione sighs. "You can go."

Three distinct pops crack in the ensuing silence.

"What has gotten into Winky?" I demand.

"Dominance," Remus says. "When elves are raised together, the pecking order is pre-established. The females are usually in charge, but with Kreacher having been born in the house and Dobby being Harry's close friend, she's staking her claim as their leader."

"Well, she's certainly got Dobby scared senseless," Ron says

"Me too," I confirm, and Sirius and Remus laugh at us.

~**~

As soon as we leave the floo for Diagon Alley, the twins break off to do their own thing.

Hermione tries to wrap her arms around our shoulders as she used to when we were younger, but even three years junior, Ron is already too tall to make that comfortable for her.

She scoffs in irritation, and Ron looks down at her and laughs. I have a slight urge to hit him, but I ignore it when she links her arms around our middles instead.

"Where to first?" Ron asks, slipping an elbow around Hermione's waist and swinging her into the air. 

She squeals in laughter, using magic to float slowly back onto the ground.

No one even looks at us. I can't think of the last time we walked through Diagon Alley, alone or together, where we didn't draw the eyes of every person we passed. I'm never leaving the house with my real face on again. The anonymity is wonderful. 

"The bookstore," Hermione and I say together.

"Right," Ron grouses. 

All his enthusiasm for the day slips right off his face.

"In Knockturn Alley," Hermione supplies, and he perks up a little at that.

We come to a halt and wait for Moony and Padfoot to catch up. Mi grabs a paper from her pocket and slips it into my hands. I, in turn, hand it to Sirius. 

"I need a few things from Burgin and Burkes," I say. "Let's split up. You guys go there, and we'll hit the bookstore."

Remus frowns, but Sirius takes my list. He raises his eyebrows and looks at me.

"A cabinet, really?"

"Trust me," I say. I harden my face. "You want it. I'll show you later."

Realization dawns in the softening of his jaw.

"Whatever you say, Pup," he agrees, pocketing my list.

Remus looks at us suspiciously. 

"Why do we have to go to the bookstore?" Ron wines as we start walking again. He wraps his arm over Hermione's shoulders and I link my fingers with hers. "It's the summer hols, and we spent most of yesterday going through books. 'Mione already gave me a stack to read about battle tactics and stuff."

I didn't know that, but he doesn't seem as put out as he wants to pretend he is, so I don't comment on it either. 

"You can come with us to Burgin and Burkes," Sirius offers. "Leave the lovebirds to their snogging."

"We aren't going to be snogging," Hermione says primly. "We're going to go buy how-to guides on sex."

The others freeze momentarily, their eyes going wide in shock. Then they burst into laughter, joking that Hermione would have made a good Marauder, and how Lilly had a wicked sense of humor too.

I have to cover my face to keep from laughing at the way they blow her off.

Ron, at least, should know better. Mi never lies about reading.

"She's probably looking for books on something boring like watching plants grow," Ron assures them when they break off to head into the collector's store. 

Remus stops at the open door, turning to me and Hermione.

"Send a Patronus if you need anything. Come get us when you're done."

"We'll be done before she will," Ron says from inside the doorway, and Hermione flips him off even though we can't see him, so I'm sure he can't see us. 

Remus chuckles then follows Ron and Sirius into the store. 

"After you, wife," I say, pretending to bow and offering her my elbow.

"Thank you, husband," Mi laughs, and we make our way arm and arm to the bookstore