Follow Through

The words you say to me are unlike anything
That's ever been said
And what you do to me is unlike anything
That's ever been
Am I too obvious to preach it
You're so hypnotic on my heart

So since you want to be with me
You'll have to follow through
With every word you say
And I, all I really want is you
For you to stick around
I'll see you everyday
But you have to follow through
You have to follow through
You're gonna have to follow

Oh, this is the start of something good
Don't you agree?

"Follow Through" Gavin Degraw

**

"So, I see you're getting married." Hermione looked up from her book in surprise. She was waiting for Ron and Harry to join her in the not-so-crowded restaurant. "Well, I don't see obviously," Luna Lovegood corrected good-humoredly. "I don't see much of anything these days."

"Luna?" Hermione said happily at the sight of the blonde former Ravenclaw. Her now blinded eyes were still the most beautiful Hermione had ever seen. Luna smiled wanly as she easily maneuvered herself into the chair across from Hermione. Luna didn't even need a seeing-eye dog or cane to help guide her along. Her other senses had become so attuned that she was able to get around on her own just fine. "What are you doing here? How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Luna said breezily. "I'm fine. Daddy's fine. The Quibbler is fine." She reached for the nearby water glass as easily as though she could see it for herself. "We did just steal a scoop from you." She took an apologetic sip. "I hope you're not too mad."

"Yes, you sure did," Hermione replied good-naturedly. Although she was at first disappointed that the Quibbler had managed to print a story about Lucius Malfoy's real death three years ago, she got over it when her editor was so pleased with the story about Filch and the Death Eater's bizarre method of Muggle torture that he had assigned her to investigate a mysterious fire up in the Lake District. It now appeared that Hermione Granger no longer wrote only editorials. "How did you find out about that, anyway?"

"Well, Tonks keeps in close contact with us," Luna explained airily. "She mentioned to me about finding Lucius' will after arresting Draco, and one of our reporters took it from there."

"Ah," Hermione said in understanding. Lucius Malfoy had stipulated in his will that all his territory and assets were to be left to his heir, Draco Malfoy, provided that he had passed his twenty-first birthday and pledged to honor the family name; apparently, this was a typical pureblood family stipulation in order to ensure that the family property and assets went to one dedicated to the preservation of their bloodline. Draco, therefore, couldn't receive his father's money until he was the proper age. If he didn't meet those criteria, all of Lucius' assets would instead go to his wife.

When Draco discovered his father's body the night Voldemort fell, he severed a hefty hunk of his father's long white-blonde hair and Transfigured the body so it could be secretly buried, like Crouch Jr. had done to his father in fourth-year. Draco admitted to having hid the body, but he flat out denied the allegation that he had been the one to kill his dad. Since he already had a life sentence, there was no reason for Draco to lie, so the Aurors now suspected that Lucius had probably been hit by an errant spell and had crawled away to die alone. Lucius was so arrogant that he'd never want anyone to see him in the vulnerable, agonizing throes of death. Draco had then convinced Crabbe to impersonate his father in the Battle for Hogwarts, so everyone could visibly see Lucius Malfoy and believe he was still alive. They had made a hasty exit and planned to disappear until Malfoy's twenty-first birthday.

However, Draco didn't count on the Aurors' relentless pursuit. If he abruptly burst out from hiding and tried to claim what was rightfully his, the Aurors would have pounced on him in a second. So he concocted another plan, one that was not so beneficial to his partner in crime, but very helpful to him. How Malfoy convinced Crabbe to take the fall for him was still uncertain, but it had been done, and both men were now in prison for it.

Hermione did wish that she could have been the one to publicly expose Malfoy for his crimes, but all that really mattered was that the truth had been revealed and Malfoy was rotting safely away in Azkaban. Hermione wasn't sure she necessarily agreed with Azkaban's method of imprisonment, especially after everything the dementors had done during the war, but at least Malfoy was far away from everyone she cared about. Perhaps there was a better way to keep wizards incarcerated, however. Hermione had read about some spells--she smiled and stopped herself from progressing any further. She could save these thoughts for another day. She might keep writing her famous editorials after all.

"But enough about business." Luna held out her hand curiously. "Let's see it." Hermione obligingly stuck out her left hand so Luna's groping fingers could trace over the new ring on Hermione's ring finger. "Oh," she breathed. "It's lovely. Ronald chose wisely." Hermione knew she wasn't just talking about the ring, and she smiled in silent gratitude. "How long ago did this happen?"

"About a month ago," Hermione answered. Even though several weeks had passed since the proposal, she still smiled and felt as though she had taken a huge gulp of butterbeer. "We haven't set a date yet," she added, sensing Luna's next question.

"All in good time," Luna predicted. She patted Hermione's hand fondly before releasing it.

"How did you know anyway?" Hermione inquired.

"Ginny told me," Luna explained, her throaty, prophesizing voice growing more melodic with her growing sadness. The mood at the table palpably altered, and both women sighed. "Have you seen her lately?"

"A few days ago," Hermione replied. She looked out the front window of the café with a sigh. "She's still miserable."

"Harry still hasn't spoken to her?" Luna asked.

"No." Hermione sat back in her chair in frustration. "I don't understand why he won't forgive her. It wasn't her fault. She didn't ask Malfoy to slip her that love potion. And I happen to know that they--you know, were not intimate with each other." She had this conversation with Harry a few times, and she had spoken to Ron about the subject as well. Harry just stubbornly avoided the topic, and Ron, as always, just told Hermione to lay off, as this was none of their business. Hermione suspected that Ron, too, was more than a little resentful toward Ginny. He had yet to get the nauseating image of Ginny and Malfoy snogging the brains out of each other out of his head. This could explain why he was so impartial to Harry's stubbornness on the subject, but in Hermione's opinion, it just didn't make sense.

"No, but she let it happen," Luna said dreamily. "She must have realized that something was amiss when she suddenly developed feelings for someone else, but she didn't fight for Harry, nor did she tell Harry about the affair when she had the chance. He had to find out by walking in on them himself. That's what he can't forgive."

The perspective statements were stated so casually that it was hard to believe they were true. But Luna had rarely been wrong before. "Have you spoken to Harry?" Hermione asked in surprise. She hadn't seen Luna since school, so the girl's trademark uncanny insightfulness caught her off guard.

"No. I don't need to. I know how pain originates." Luna leaned forward to further explain her point. "There are a lot of people who fancy themselves loners. They don't think they will ever be with someone for a variety of reasons. They have friends and family and are perfectly happy, but they don't believe they will ever have the real thing." Luna paused slightly. "Harry is one of these people. On some level, despite everything, he doesn't think he'll ever have it. That makes it easier for him to push Ginny away. He's scared because it's Ginny he wants, but he doesn't think he deserves to have her."

Hermione looked away. She knew that was true and she hated the fact that her best friend believed that ridiculous idea.

"That's what he thinks," Luna repeated emphatically. "That doesn't mean that's what's going to happen. That doesn't mean that's who he really is. Not even Harry knows exactly what kind of person he is. He still has a lot to learn about himself."

"I guess he does," Hermione concurred.

"But he will," Luna foretold cheerily as she maneuvered herself out of her chair. "All in good time," she said reassuringly. Hermione felt just a little better. If Luna thought Harry would eventually get his act together and reconcile with Ginny, then there was a very good chance that it would happen someday. "I must be going. We have a lead on a new story."

"The Crumple-Horned Snorkack?" Hermione asked teasingly.

"Oh, no, no," Luna corrected with the utmost seriousness. "We stopped reporting on that ages ago. There's been a sighting in Devon of a new breed of unicorns with three horns and the power of speech. I'm going to pop over there and check it out."

Hermione thought Luna was teasing her back, but then she remembered whom she was speaking to and smiled. It was good to see that some things would never change. "Well, good luck," Hermione said.

"Thanks." Luna paused to pass her hand lightly on Hermione's cheek. "I'll see you at the wedding."

"See you then." Hermione watched in admiration as Luna gracefully weaved through the tables, chairs, and patrons. She was pleased that Luna had recovered so well from her horrible injuries from the war. She hadn't been there to see how awful it had been for her, but the open, sympathetic revulsion on Harry's face as he described the horrible sight and Ginny's complete inability to even begin to talk about it told Hermione all she needed to know. Luna could have just given up and lived her life as invalid, but she chose to go on. Now the oddest girl in her year was one of the most successful business witches in London. She kept her prophetic powers a secret, except from her closest friends, but even without the world knowing she was a Seer, Luna was still quite the toast of the town. It was amazing how far she had come.

It was amazing how far they had all come.

"Hey." Ron greeted Hermione as he dropped into the chair next to her, instinctively pushing it a few centimeters closer to his fiancée.

"You're late," Hermione chided habitually as he leaned forward for a welcoming peck on the lips.

"Divorce me," Ron retorted. He boldly stole a kiss before Hermione could protest, and satisfied, leaned back in his seat. Harry, who had been a few feet behind his partner, snorted with suppressed laughter as he fell into the chair that Luna had just vacated. He also enjoyed the fact that some things would never change.

"You can't divorce someone if they're not married yet, Ronald," Hermione reminded him.

"Uh oh, the full name," Harry stage-whispered to Ron in false fear. "We're in real trouble now."

"We might need to make a run for it." Ron pretended to look around the restaurant, his hand on the hilt of his wand. "You want to create the diversion or blast the way to the nearest exit?"

"You're marrying her--you create the diversion," Harry decided. He shifted in his chair with phony anxiety. "I'll get the civilians out as quick as possible. How much time can you give me?"

"Oh, plenty," Ron reassured. "I'll just be waving Hogwarts: A History in front of her. That'll last her for a good long while."

Hermione folded her arms over her chest and gave them a glare that interrupted their banter. "I see that you two came all this way to mock me?"

"Yeah," Harry said matter-of-factly with a grin. "What of it?"

"Did you miss us?" Ron teased, rubbing Hermione's leg under the table.

She just shook her head. "Honestly, I must have missed the day when you two turned into Fred and George." As if to prove her point, the two men laughed almost in sync, and Hermione rolled her eyes upward. "I don't know why I put up with the two of you," Hermione proclaimed to the heavens.

"Yeah, you do." Ron squeezed her knee, and the electricity that jolted through her body served as a very nice reminder of why she did put up with the likes of him.

Hermione shook her head good-naturedly before gesturing to the traces of blood on the collar of Harry's shirt that she was certain the two of them had hoped would escape her notice. "Is that why you were late?"

Harry nodded reluctantly. He had flipped the collar of his robes up, hoping to detract everyone's attention from it, but he pulled it down and tilted his head to the left to give Hermione a better view of his injury. Two puncture wounds on the side of his neck clearly showed just how Harry had hurt himself. Hermione reflexively winced as her heart twisted with worry. Even though she was accepting it more and more everyday, she was never going to get over the idea of these two constantly being in danger.

She switched chairs to take an even closer look. The wound was quite superficial, but she reached for her briefcase nevertheless. "Hermione," Harry protested, trying to pull his collar up again. "It's fine."

"Just let me disinfect it," Hermione argued as she rummaged for the bottle of antiseptic potion she kept for safety. "Vampire bites can get infected very easily. How did you get it, anyway?"

"A source decided at the last minute that he didn't want to be a source anymore," Harry explained vaguely. He squirmed slightly as Hermione began to clean the wound in plain sight. "Everyone's looking."

"Only because you're Harry bloody Potter, not because Hermione's cleaning your cut," Ron put in. He was leaning back in his chair, thoroughly enjoying this. "I'd have thought you'd be used to this."

Harry shot him a glare. He was used to it, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "I thought you were on my side."

"Hey, I told you to get that looked at," Ron told him. "Someone's got to do it--might as well be the best witch the Eastern Hemisphere."

Hermione smiled as she replaced the stopper in the vial and returned the potion to her bag. Ron's compliment was duly noted. "But you feel all right?" Hermione asked Harry. "No side effects?"

"It's fine--no sudden urges to suck human blood from people's necks, I swear," Harry replied as he fingered the double cut. It did feel a lot better.

"And you're being careful? Both of you?" Hermione fixed each of her best friends with a reproachful and concerned look.

"Yes, now we know that vampire fangs should not be jammed into our flesh," Ron reassured her. Hermione raised her eyebrows and Ron instantly sobered. "We're being very careful, I swear."

Hermione nodded and glanced over at Harry. Harry returned the motion. "Good," Hermione said. "That's all I need to know."

"You're being careful too?" Ron asked. "With the whole fire thing? Not running into any Sean Dolohovs, are you?"

"Did I tell you he got a job in the Bulgarian Ministry? Viktor got it for him," Hermione told them happily.

"Great," Ron said somewhat sarcastically. "Well, gits flock together."

"Ron," Hermione reproached. "He's really a very nice man."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said with a roll of his eyes. He had heard this before, but he didn't think he was ever going to like anyone who was in any way related to the wizard who had caused a whole mess of trouble for him and Hermione.

Harry opened his menu, unperturbed by the possibility of a row. Hermione and Ron had been bickering more than usual, but it actually seemed to be helping their relationship. Because the two of them had been trying so hard not to fight, they had ended up bottling everything up instead, which never worked out. Hermione and Ron needed their rows. It was just the way they worked. "Do you think we have time to eat?" Harry asked them nonchalantly. He and Ron were just stopping by; they were actually still technically on assignment. Ron and Hermione had been making a point of seeing each other more often during the day. They both had such hectic work schedules that just banking on the chance that they could both get off work at a decent hour on the same day was just plain stupid.

"I reckon so," Ron answered after a glance at his watch. Hermione didn't answer. Her eyes were narrowed as she stared out the window onto the streets of London. The expression on her face clearly revealed that she didn't like what she was peering at. "What?" Ron immediately leaned forward, returning all four legs of his chair to the floor so he could lay a hand on Hermione's arm. "Hermione?"

"It's him." Hermione nodded toward the tall, sandy-haired wizard with eerily blue eyes who was passing by the restaurant. "Drake Bond."

Harry was already on his feet. "That bloke who pretended to be an Auror?"

"That's the one," Hermione verified hastily.

"So, Harry," Ron said with terse evenness as he, too, quickly rose from his chair, "you want to teach him a lesson for having a really crappy alias?"

"You bet," Harry agreed in the voice he reserved for mouthing off to Death Eaters. "I'll get him to follow me while you come from behind."

"Got it," Ron confirmed. Harry strode purposefully out of the restaurant, but Ron lingered momentarily. "If I get back tonight, I'll come over, okay? You have to hear the vampire story--it's really funny."

"Fine with me," Hermione agreed. "Go on," she shooed him toward the door. "Why is a vampire story funny?" Hermione abruptly asked when it hit her what Ron had just said. From what she had read about vampires, she didn't think any anecdote involving vampires would be particularly amusing.

Ron grinned. "You'll see. If I can't make it, I'll give you a ring." He rolled his eyes upward to indicate the empathic connection while Hermione continued to push him toward the exit.

"Fine, be careful and go--you don't want to lose him," Hermione urged. Ron risked a quick kiss before running off after his partner. Good luck, she sent in a hasty empathic message after him. She turned back into the restaurant to drop a few Galleons on their table. She had a feeling that this was going to be her life now: having a few stolen, but precious moments with Ron before reality sank back in and they had to get back to their jobs. It was difficult to deal with, of course, and a part of her would always worry about him. But after the talk they had had in Rome and the changes that had been made over the past few weeks, Hermione knew it was a challenge she could eventually conquer. Just by talking with her a little everyday, either through owl post or empathy, Ron had already made Hermione feel infinitely more comfortable with his profession.

It wasn't perfect yet. Hermione would be the first to admit it. There were still kinks to correct, and there would probably be even more issues down the road. But what relationship didn't have problems to contend with? All that matters is that you love each other and are willing to work through anything together. Hermione had always known this, but sometimes you have to be reminded that your faith in something is rightly justified. She had all the faith in the world in Ron, but a chain of events had led her to believe that her heart wasn't in the right place. It was silly and misguided, but it happens. You never forget it when you realize that your heart is right where it belongs--Hermione was going to remember this lesson forever.

"Oh, your friends left? Your plans have changed?" the waiter asked. He had finally returned to their table to take their order to find Hermione standing there, absently fingering the Galleons she had just placed on the tabletop.

Hermione smiled knowingly. All of her plans had changed, in all honesty. Ever since she had discovered she was a witch, she had thought she had her future all mapped out. But her two best friends had changed everything, as had the war. In some ways, her life was much more fretful, but mostly she had been changed irrevocably for good. It wasn't the perfect life a girl dreamed of, but it was a pretty damned good one nevertheless. And she wouldn't change a single thing about it.

She knew the waiter was going to have no idea what she was talking about, but she said it anyway. Words were always more powerful when spoken aloud. "Yes, my plans have changed," Hermione affirmed. "And that's fine with me." She slung her briefcase over her shoulder, ready to return to work and await Ron's return. "It's still going to work out just perfectly."