CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Summary: Finding herself one thousand years back in the past and in the legendary Kingdom of Camelot was something Hermione had never seen coming. But with no possible way back to the future and being stuck in the past, Hermione had no option but to form a new life for herself, and hopefully without changing the timeline. Unfortunately, matters of the heart cannot be controlled and she finds herself entwined in the lives of Prince Arthur and the great and powerful sorcerer, Merlin. Hermione x Arthur pairing.

Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Merlin, and the BBC. I am not making a profit from writing and posting this fanfic. I'm also making some big changes to the Merlin plotline so don't be surprised that nothing matches with canon. If I'm being honest, it's been years since I last saw the series, so I'm mostly going off what I remember and episode reviews and notes. And I've decided Arthur won't be dying.

AN

Did I really stay up until 5 am to finish this chapter? Yes. Did I intend for it to be so long? No. Am I so tired my eyes are stinging and I couldn't be bothered to split it into two chapters? Yes. Am I finally off to sleep now that I've finished it? Hell yeah.

Q&A

Because I'm so exhausted and it's taken me two days plus an all-nighter to get this chapter written, I need sleep, and you guys are so awesome with your reviews, I'm not joking when I say it literally takes about half an hour just read through them and write my responses, so I promise to respond and answer questions and the like in the next chapter. And when that's coming? I've no idea, it depends on the muse but I'm trying to keep everything fair regarding the update schedule as I know everyone has their favourite works of mine and are waiting for updates on those too.

Page count: 25

"Hermione?" Arthur questioned in surprise, blinking slowly before a smile pulled at his mouth as he pulled the door closed behind him.

At the sight of his smile, she felt her own mouth respond with a bright smile and she pushed away from the wall and unfolded her arms as she closed the little distance between them in the corridor.

"Good morning, Arthur," she greeted brightly.

"I thought you would have taken the children back to the city centre."

"Yes, I have already done so. I've been awake for several hours and in that time, I've had breakfast with the children, taken them home and shown Charles what I wished to regarding the sickness remedy."

"Have you been waiting for long?" His brow furrowed in concern.

"No," she shook her head with a smile. "I knew you would emerge soon and I didn't wish to disturb you, Heaven knows you need your rest."

"Hermione, for you I have all the time in the world," he muttered softly, his hand coming up to her cheek, his fingertips ghosting over her skin and her head tilted into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment, making him smile. "And since you waited so patiently for me, what can I do for you, Princess?"

Her mouth twitched in amusement. "Well, My Prince," she emphasised teasingly, "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I was wondering if you might like to spend this day with me."

His eyebrow arched. "Oh?"

"Hmmm," she hummed, "Given how emotionally exhausting yesterday was, I thought we have both earned a day of relaxation. And if you were to be amenable, there is something I wish to share with you."

"I admit, you've now piqued my curiosity. And what do you wish to show me?"

"It's something that must be done without an audience."

His mouth twitched slightly and his eyes dropped from her pretty and kind features down to the gold encased ruby that hung around her neck, contrasting against her pale skin.

She was to be his wife and Queen. She had agreed to be his forever. God, did he love her.

"That explains the absence of your guards," Arthur mused.

Whilst he knew they didn't tend to accompany her when she was inside the castle walls, he'd seen them hiding in the shadows and following her, likely being suspicious that she was going to do something dangerous. Given their lack of presence, it meant Hermione had dismissed them from their duties for that day, having planned to spend the day with him, and who was he to refuse the woman he loved?

"I shall need a little time to speak to my father and inform him of our plans."

"Of course," she smiled up at him. "I shall be waiting for you in the kitchens."

"The kitchens?" He questioned in both surprise and a little bit of fear.

The cooks were very territorial and he knew they hadn't been pleased by his presence when he'd last visited for his plans to cook for Hermione on her birthday, but with him being who he was, they'd remained quiet but that hadn't meant it was difficult to feel their stares or horror and concern.

"Yes, Arthur, the kitchens," she confirmed. "Don't tell me the Prince is afraid," she teased.

"Of course not," he stood taller, his features setting in determination and his chest pooling with warmth when she giggled at him. Hermione never giggled.

"Very well, and prepare yourself."

"Why?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Today, I'm going to put yours through your paces. And should you impress me, there is a prize."

"Prize?" He perked up. If there was one thing he loved, it was winning.

"Yes, a prize," she repeated. "Don't keep me waiting too long, My Prince," she said, slowly drawing back from him before turning and walking down the corridor with her hands clasped and resting on her abdomen.

It took everything he had in him not to run after her, pull her to him, bury his hands in her wild hair and kiss her, especially given the public setting of the corridor.

~000~000~000~

As Arthur approached the kitchens, he felt uncertainty and he grew uncomfortable but being reminded that Hermione's family held courage above all other traits, he squashed those feelings down and gathered his own, reminding himself that whatever Hermione had planned, she wished to spend the day with him, their first day together as betrotheds. Arthur knew that soon enough, the castle would be in a flurry of movement as planning for the wedding begin and when that happened, Hermione's attention would soon be taken from him and put onto other matters, so it was wise that he didn't take the time he did have with her for granted.

As he steeled his nerves and took a breath, he reached out and opened the large door before he stepped into the stuffy kitchen, a myriad of smells invading his nose, all movement halting to a stop and all of the voices quietening as all eyes turned to him.

He felt himself freeze under their surprised but still less than pleased expressions at the sight of him and as his eyes quickly scanned the room, sighing in relief when he saw Hermione tucked away in the corner of the room, and if sensing his gaze, she lifted her head and offered him a smile. He felt himself relax a little.

"Good morning," he greeted the kitchen staff with a nod of his head before he confidently strode forward, manoeuvring between the cooking stations and workers before he reached Hermione.

"That was quite the entrance," she teased him before she looked about the room, almost challengingly and then movement and chatter resumed. He would've thought they'd forgotten they were there if it weren't for him being able to feel the many eyes that stole glances their way. "Are you ready?"

"For?" He prompted.

"Today, Arthur, I'm going to teach you how to bake a cake."

"Excuse me?" He questioned in surprise.

He hadn't known what to expect when she said she wished to spend the day with him and for him to meet her at the kitchens, but it most certainly wasn't her wishing to teach him how to bake a cake.

"A cake, Arthur," she clarified, giving him an amused expression. "Not to worry, I don't plan to spend all day in here. I just wish for us to have something sweet for after lunch."

"Lunch?" He tipped his head.

"Yes, Margery," Hermione began, tipping her head in the direction of the eldest cook, her face swallowed by wrinkles and her hair thinning and grey.

Arthur could admit that he didn't know the names of the kitchen staff, but Margery was the one exception. She'd been working at the castle since before he was born and although she was slow on her feet and hard of hearing, Arthur knew from experience she was the best baker they had, it being one of the reasons his father hadn't yet dismissed her from her duties despite her age. The King had a bit of a soft spot for her.

Hermione continued, "Has offered to make a little luncheon basket for us, and in return, we are going to bake two cakes, one for us and one for Margery to take home with her later this evening. And not only that, I'm going to be sharing with you my secret recipe, something my mother... Sister-in-law, taught me," she corrected.

"And the prize?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

She laughed. "Not yet, that is to occur later in the evening. You've cooked for me, and now I'm going to bake for you, but you're going to help me. It's quite simple, as you can see, I already have all that we require," she gestured to the table before her, sitting the ingredients and bowls. "We only require flour, eggs, milk, a pinch of salt and honey, and twenty-five minutes cooking time. Are you up to the challenge?"

"Of course," he nodded, folding his arms over his chest and standing taller. "I can't help but notice they do not seem... Disturbed by your presence," he commented, noting to the fact she had her own cooking station and no one seemed to be giving her a second glance, if only because he was there.

"Yes, we have an understanding. They allow me to use the kitchen and I stay out of their way, not only that, but I'm here often enough preparing meals for the children. They've learned to tolerate me, and let's be honest, before, I was just a visiting Royal, it would have been rude to ask me to leave but now, I'm to be their Queen."

His mouth pulled into a smile. "Yes, you are," he agreed softly, his eyes darting down to the ruby at her throat before lifting to her face.

"Once we are done here, we will take our leave and spend the remainder of the day together. So, My Prince, if you would please wash your hands and pull up your sleeves, we shall get started."

~000~000~000~

Arthur admitted that despite having dreaded the thought of Hermione trying to teach him to bake a cake, not only had he enjoyed himself, it had been an easy recipe to follow. Though he suspected it had only been so easy and he'd enjoyed himself so because Hermione had been the one to teach him and she'd been patient with him, slowly demonstrating the correct measurements for each ingredient before adding them to the bowl and allowing him the chance to mimic her actions before she moved onto the next step.

By the time they were ready to put their cakes to bake, they were laughing and trying to be as quiet as possible as the kitchen staff sent them annoyed glances for disturbing them. He was covered in flour, Hermione had flour on her nose and forehead and broken eggshells and sticky spoons littered the table.

"I'll be right back," Hermione promised, lifting both of the cake tins and taking them over to one of the empty ovens, slotting them in carefully before she returned to his side with a damp cloth in hand. "Let's get you cleaned up, I can barely see your face for flour," she said amused before reaching up and swiping the damp cloth over his face, Arthur holding still and allowing her to do so. "It is a mystery how you managed to make such mess," she shook her head.

"It wasn't my fault," he defended. "You did not warn me of the cloud that would form when measuring the flour."

She laughed before drawing her hand back, nodding to herself in satisfaction. "Much better."

Silently, he reached for her hand and took the cloth from her, lifting it to her face and swiping it over her nose and forehead, a fond smile tugging at his mouth.

"You are not the only one to have made a mess."

"Yes, well, it's no fun if you bake a cake and you do not find yourself sticky with honey or covered in flour," she replied, taking the cloth from him before she quickly set to cleaning the cooking station until it was free of the mess and spotless, not wishing to upset or anger the kitchen staff.

Arthur leaned against the table and watched her as she cleaned and once done, she stood beside him, quickly falling into light conversation until the cakes were finished baking. Hermione excitedly retrieved them from the oven and set them on the table, allowing them to cool.

"I admit, they do smell good," said Arthur, eyeing the golden-brown sponge hungrily when his stomach grumbled, no matter of the fact he'd eaten a hearty breakfast no fewer than two hours ago. It smelled really good.

"And it is Heaven on a plate," Hermione promised.

"If that is the case, I might have the bakers use your recipe so it might be served at all of our feasts and celebrations."

"Oh, I wouldn't say it is to that high a standard," she waved him off.

He didn't believe her. He remembered the delicious tea she'd given him in Ealdor, something she'd created herself. And he remembered the broth she'd made and despite the lack of resources she'd had, she'd still made a tasty meal. He could only imagine what she'd be capable of now that she had full access to the meats and vegetables brought to the castle to feed the royals.

He watched as she reached out and gently touched the tops of the cakes, hissing slightly in pain before she brought both index fingers up to her mouth and blew cold air over them.

"They're still a little too hot to take out of the tins but they need to cool," she told him, seeing his amused smile.

After a few minutes, she was able to remove them from their tins and she set them on plates, allowing them to cool whilst she quickly washed the last of the bowls and tins, dried them and put them back in their rightful places.

"That should do," she nodded after quickly checking the temperature of the cakes, and then she wrapped them both, taking one over to Margery's station, having a quick conversation with the older woman and then returning to his side with a basket of food, which she slipped the cake into. "I do believe that is everything, shall we leave?"

He nodded and slipped his hand to the small of her back, guiding her out of the kitchens and through the castle, noting she was leading them towards the entrance courtyard.

"And where are we going?" He asked curiously.

"Well, seeing as your father is still refusing to allow us to leave the city without guards, I thought we might visit the stream. It's a lovely day for it, wouldn't you agree?"

"Perfect," he nodded, feeling the heat of the sun warming his skin each time they passed a window.

As they descended the steps from the castle and to the courtyard, Arthur blinked in surprise at the sight of Merlin stood beside Llameri as he held her reins, before he looked to Hermione questioningly.

"I may have happened upon Merlin this morning when he was retrieving your breakfast, and asked if he might ready Llameri when he had the chance."

"He is my manservant," he replied amused.

"Yes, but he is my friend," she argued, sticking her tongue out childishly before she quickened her steps to reach Merlin, Arthur snorting and shaking his head in amusement.

This was to be his life now, and he did not doubt that Hermione and Merlin would band together from time to time, either to annoy him or to prevent him from doing something they did not agree with, and just as likely, to persuade him to do something he did not agree with. And in all honesty, he did not mind.

Hermione and Merlin were having a whispered conversation and when he approached, they both sprang back from each other, Hermione smiling innocently and Merlin grinning at him stupidly. He knew that no matter how much he pressed or asked, they wouldn't reveal the topic of their conversation.

"Will you be returning for dinner?" Merlin asked.

"No," Hermione shook her head, "But we will be back before dark. If we are needed, we will be by the stream."

Merlin nodded before he handed the reins to Arthur and then stepped back, allowing them room to mount the horse before Hermione shifted the basket in her hold and then they took off at a trot.

The journey to the stream was one they'd done countless times before and both knew the way, as did Llameri and she required little instruction once she recognised their path of travel, allowing for Hermione and Arthur to converse without paying much attention to their surroundings. When they arrived at the stream, they dismounted Llameri and Arthur removed the blanket from the saddlebag, setting it on the ground and allowing the horse to wander her surroundings, watching as she drank from the stream before finding a patch of grass to settle down on, being bathed in the rays of the sun.

"Are you hungry?" Hermione asked. "We can take an early lunch?" She suggested.

Despite knowing he shouldn't be hungry given how little time had passed since he'd had his breakfast, he'd been hungry from the moment he'd smelled the cakes. Nodding in approval, Hermione smiled at him and reached into the basket and pulled free the plates and cutlery before removing the cheese, bread, meats, apples and berries.

He'd eaten quickly not because he was hungry but rather he couldn't wait to get his hands on the cake hidden away in the basket and seeing this, Hermione laughed and finished her own servings before she removed the cake and unwrapped it, cutting a decently-sized slice and setting it on a second, clean plate.

Arthur didn't wait for her to cut her own serving as he had his first taste, sighing in happiness at the sweetness of the flavouring and the softness of the sponge. Hermione was right; it was Heaven on a plate. He'd always been partial to a lemon cake but he'd just discovered his new favourite sweet treat.

"You approve?" Hermione's voice flittered to his ears, her amusement unhidden.

He opened his eyes, not realising he'd closed them and he saw her mouth twitching and her eyes crinkling as she fought back a laugh.

"Very much so, I will ensure this will be served at all of our meals," he vowed. "You're a wonderful baker," he praised.

"Thank you, Arthur," she smiled, "However, I cannot take credit, this is the cake you baked."

He blinked slowly in surprise before his eyes drifted down to the cake slice on his plate. If he'd made that one and it tasted so good, how would Hermione's have tasted, when she'd been making it for years? When she'd perfected it? He wasn't sure his taste buds would be able to manage such a thing.

Lifting his eyes to her, he tipped his head. "What are you doing?" He asked, seeing Hermione spreading a thin layer of jam atop her slice of cake with the back of her spoon.

"Adding jam," she replied, stating the obvious without being rude or mean.

"Does it add to the flavour?" He asked curiously.

"In my opinion, yes, the sourness of the berries helps to balance the sweetness of the honey."

Curious, he accepted the spoon when she held it out in offering and he added a small amount of jam to a section of his cake slice before tasting it, his eyes widening slightly. He wasn't entirely sure which he preferred, it with or without jam. Both were exceptionally good. And because of that, he smothered half of his remaining cake slice in jam and left the other half jam-free. Once he'd eaten his slice, he eyed the remaining cake hungrily and after laughing, Hermione cut him a second slice, Arthur repeating the process of smothering half of it in jam and leaving the other half jam-free.

He'd have happily eaten a third slice but decided to wait a little while, wanting to let his stomach settle given the food he'd already eaten that day. Once done, Hermione packed most of the items away but left free the apples so they might feed them to Llameri for a treat, and they both lay on their backs, staring up at the sky, being bathed by the sun's warming rays, gesturing to clouds and calling out what they saw.

"That is in no way a horse," Hermione protested.

"Yes, it is, look, there's the head, legs, ears and tail," argued Arthur, wiggling his finger to each part.

"Look at Llameri and then look at the cloud," she said, "They look nothing alike."

"They do."

"They do not," she scoffed. "Now, that one," she lifted her hand, pointing to a cloud far off to the left that was slowly drifting towards them, "Looks like a horse."

"No, it doesn't," he protested.

"It does," she argued, "More so than your thing."

"Thing! How dare you?!" He mock exclaimed. "That thing is bred from the best stallion in Camelot."

"If the stallion looked remotely similar to that thing, I would not wish to breed it."

"It is with a heavy heart that I must place you under arrest," said Arthur seriously.

"Oh, and what of my crimes?" She asked, turning her head to look at him, fighting a laugh.

"Treachery," he stated.

"Treachery?" She arched an amused eyebrow.

"Treachery," he echoed, "We in Camelot, pride ourselves on our horse breeding and comments such as yours are offensive to not only the citizens but the throne, too."

"Well, if you wish to arrest and detain me, Prince Arthur, you must catch me first."

He blinked in surprise when she was suddenly on her feet and dashing away from him. It was the fastest he'd ever seen her move. In fact, he hadn't believed her to be capable of such speed, especially giving that she was wearing a dress. A pretty blue one, he might add. Giving his head a shake, he pushed himself up onto into a seating position, his mouth twitching into a smile when rather than darting around his mare that lay sprawled on the ground, Hermione simply took a running leap and jumped over her, Llameri lifting her head, as if confused by what had just happened before she snorted and laid her head back against the ground, uncaring.

Laughing and shaking his head, he stood to his feet, removed his scabbard and set it on the ground, not wishing for his sword to hit against his leg with every step he took. He took a breath before he darted after her, putting on a burst of speed. Whilst she had a head start, his legs were longer and allowed for larger strides, making it easy to close to the distance between them.

When she noticed his presence, she looked over her shoulder, squeaked out a noise of surprise before she fisted the skirts of her dress in her hand and faced forward, a laugh leaving her. Whilst he was able to close the distance between them easily enough, catching her was a different matter. Given her smaller size, she was much agiler than he was, allowing her to take sharp turns without falling and once, she'd even managed to dart right beneath his arms as he made to grab her.

He wasn't entirely sure how long it had taken to catch her but his lungs were burning, his skin flushed and sweat slicked at his forehead. Sirs Davie and Bertrand were right. She was really fast and it was no wonder she was able to escape their guard. He could barely keep up with her and he was almost half the age of his eldest Knights and at his physical peak. He almost felt sorry for being so harsh with them. Almost. She was fast but not uncatchable.

Which he proved when he reached out and ensnared her right forearm, pulling her to a stop until her back collided with his chest. She laughed loudly as she struggled to catch her breath, her hands came up to rest atop of his after they'd slipped to her waist and she leaned into him, tilting her head back.

After a moment or two of them catching their breath, he turned her to face him, seeing her flushed skin, windswept wild hair, bright smile and sparkling eyes staring up at him. She truly was beautiful.

He reached up, brushing her hair back from her face and behind her ear, his mouth twitching in amusement when the breeze blew that same lock of hair back into her face.

"You, Princess, are an exceptionally hard woman to catch."

"Thank you," she grinned proudly and he shook his head.

Brushing her hair back from her face once more, he lowered his head and she tipped hers, rising onto her tiptoes to meet him halfway, their lips pressing together softly. Before he knew it, her arms had wound around his neck, one of her hands had buried in his hair and the other fisted the fabric of his shirt, whilst his arms were firmly locked around her, keeping her against him. Their kiss had grown from soft and teasing to heated and intense, the need for more passing through them and not wanting to do something to dishonour his intended before they were married, he drew back from her, being out of breath once more but for an entirely different reason.

She gave a little gasp as she sucked in a lungful of air and she pressed her forehead against his, catching her breath. Her hands unwound from his hair and shirt but clasped together, her arms remaining slotted around his neck.

Taking a breath he said, "Where is your wolf? I have not seen him today, not even by the kitchens."

Arthur knew the wolf tended to hang about the kitchens until one of the workers either took pity or gave him something just so he'd leave them be. He'd seen it happen before and once, three times in a single day. The workers were quite exasperated that day and the wolf had left with a full stomach of cheese, beef and an apple pie. Arthur wouldn't surprised if the wolf stopped hunting his own food altogether, especially now that he'd discovered an easier way to find food, one that didn't involve chasing, or very little movement at all.

"The last I saw, with my father. He accompanied the children and I down to the city but soon left. When I returned to the castle, I saw him with my father as they headed for a meeting with yours, no doubt wishing to finalise any details of our betrothal before my father returns to Hogwarts in a few days."

"You will miss him, won't you?" He said softly.

"Yes, I will miss him greatly," she admitted, drawing her head back and opening her eyes, getting locked in his bright blue gaze. "He has sworn to visit as well as made me promise to visit Hogwarts with you in tow. And I know he will visit for the wedding or after the birth of my sibling, whichever may happen first, the details are yet to be discussed or finalised."

He nodded before drawing back from her and leading her back to the blanket, once more taking seats.

"You said you wished to show me something," Arthur reminded.

"Yes," she nodded, suddenly appearing nervous as she fiddled with the fabric of her dress. "You said you wish to experience magic, magic that is not intended for dark purposes, magic that you can believe in?"

"I did," he agreed.

"If it is alright with you, perhaps I might show you some now? It is always hard to control my instincts and urges, and now that you know the truth, I am finding it harder to stop myself from casting magic in your presence. But despite you now knowing, I don't wish to make you uncomfortable by doing so freely, so I thought it best I ask for your permission."

"Hermione," he sighed, lifting his hand until it pressed against her cheek and she tipped her head into his touch. "This is a part of you and I don't ever want you to hide from me, and you no longer have to. If you feel the need to cast magic before me, then please do. It is something I will grow accustomed to and hopefully, I will one day have faith in others to use their magic as you do and therefore feel confident enough to abolish the laws prohibiting the use of magic."

Her mouth pulled into a small smile. "So you don't mind if I were to show something right now?" She clarified.

"No, I would be honoured to see your magic at work, I only wish our surroundings were more private," he said, his eyes darting about them worriedly.

He was certain he was the only person (besides Hermione, of course) who knew of their current location. Whilst the stream did travel through the castle grounds, it also travelled for several miles through Camelot, so although others were aware of its existence, that particular spot he believed only himself to have found, especially since he'd been visiting for so many years and he'd yet to see another person nearby or see signs of someone having visited. But despite knowing that, they were still, technically, out in the open and free to be observed.

"As do I," Hermione agreed, "But there is something I can do that will lessen the risk of me being seen," she replied and with a simple wave of her hand and a whisper of something he didn't understand, Hermione seemed to relax.

"What did you do?" He asked curiously, not feeling or seeing anything that he hadn't before, but having witnessed her actions.

"I have placed a spell around the area that will prevent anyone from being able to see us. If someone were to stumble upon us, we wouldn't be seen. However, if someone were to be looking for us specifically, they would. It is based on intent, as is most things regarding magic."

"That's incredible," he muttered in surprised and she smiled at him, somewhat shyly.

"Is there anything, in particular, you would like to see?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he confessed, "I do not know what you are and aren't capable of."

"Well, those that practice my magic, for clarification's sake, let's call it the magic of the trueborns, witches and witches," she reminded, "We are unable to bring those that have died back to life or any act that defies nature or the natural order of the world. We are also unable to conjure food from out of thin air..."

"I've seen you do it before with the apples," he interrupted with a frown.

"No, I summoned the apples that I already had on my person, hidden in my bag," she corrected. "Anyway, there are many limitations but there are also many capabilities, some of which, I still find to amaze me no matter how long may pass."

"What is your favourite?" He asked curiously.

She smiled at him before she lifted her hand, snapping her fingers and twisting her wrist until her palm faced upwards, all in one easy and fluid movement. Arthur's eyes widened when he saw the yellow-orange and blue-tipped flames sat in her hand, dancing in the soft breeze surrounding them. He lifted his gaze to Hermione, seeing that she was obviously unharmed.

"This is one of my favourites as has been since I was a child," she started, "It is quite simple and requires little magical power. Although it is true fire that provides warmth and light, it does not cause harm when it comes into contact with human skin, they are waterproof and are portable if placed inside a glass jar. They will only extinguish when I reverse the magic."

"They will burn forever?" He questioned in surprise, his eyes once more firmly locked on the flames, almost seeming to be entranced by their movement.

"I imagine so," she nodded, not that he saw. "I've never had the need to test their limitations."

"Can I touch it?"

"Yes, it won't harm you," she promised, reaching for his hand with her other one before she lifted it and then deposited the flames into his palm.

He released a breathy laugh at the feel of the warmth against his skin but rather than it burning, it tickled and tingled, sending a shiver down his spine.

"That's incredible," he muttered, lifting his hand closer to his face, feeling the warmth bathing his skin.

With a snap of her fingers, the flames vanished from existence and he blinked slowly before giving his head a shake, lowering his hand and lifting his eyes to her.

"I imagine that be useful," he commented.

"It can be," she agreed. "Next, this is something I've learned recently, something my father taught me but you may have to bear with me, it requires great focus and magical control."

Tipping his head curiously, he observed as she turned her focus away from him and to the stream opposite them, Arthur's eyes darting between them, seeing the way she sat taller and she squared her shoulders, narrowing her eyes and taking slow, steady breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. She raised her arm and held her hand out, it closing into a fist before reopening, and he felt his eyes widen when there was a visible ripple in the water of the stream before a blob of water seemed to lift from the stream, hovering above it in an uneven circle.

His eyes darted to her, seeing her brow furrowed in concentration and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. From the corner of his eyes, caught the movement of her slowly twisting her wrist to the right and then to the left, the movement repeating as she spread her fingers and curled them slightly. His eyes moving back to the stream, a laugh of surprise left him when he realised what she was doing, she was controlling the movement of the hovering blob of water, watching as it formed from an uneven circle into that of a horse, then a wolf and then a dragon.

His laughter grew louder when that water-dragon moved over to him, visibly flapping its wings as though it could fly and it was flying, and he tipped his head back, watching as it flew overhead and circled above. When it paused directly above him he felt himself flinch when it lost its shape and it exploded into thousands of water droplets, preparing himself to be soaked as it fell over him, but it didn't happen. Hesitantly opening his eyes, his mouth parted at the sight of being surrounded by those same water droplets, only they had all frozen mid-air. He gingerly reached out, tapping his finger against the one before his nose, the water droplet seeming to bounce away from him before returning to its original position. A smile pulled at his mouth and when he blinked, he felt a little disappointed that the water droplets had once more gathered into a misshapen blob above his head before it floated back to the stream and then burst, it raining into the body of water and creating ripples on the surface.

He moved his eyes back to Hermione, seeing that she looked a little tired but otherwise fine.

"How?" Was all he managed to articulate.

Hermione laughed and pushed her hair back from her face. "It was not easy, admittedly, it took me longer to perfect it than I'd have liked, but my father was patient and encouraging and didn't allow me to admit defeat. He believed I could do it, I just had to believe in myself. "

"But you said you couldn't control nature," he reminded.

"That's correct," she nodded. "Whilst I was able to control the water, I am unable to force weather conditions, such as rains or storms but I can conjure water. From my understanding, the magic works by taking the moisture from things around me, such as from the ground or the raindrops on leaves and plants."

"If there was ever a drought...?" Arthur questioned thoughtfully.

"I should be able to provide water," she nodded, "But I'm unaware of how much I will be able to conjure and for how long."

"Did William know about your magic?" Arthur asked, surprising her with the sudden change of topic.

"Yes, he did," she answered. "It is how I learned of his magic," she lied. "He once caught me using magic and wishing to calm me, he told me of his magic. And Arthur, I feel I should tell you..."

"Yes?" He prompted when she hesitated.

"Please don't be mad at him," she pleaded.

"Who?" He tipped his head questioningly.

She took a breath and twisted her fingers in her skirts. "Merlin."

"What has the idiot done now?" He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache forming.

"Nothing, nothing that I'm aware of, at least. You see, Merlin... Well," she cleared her throat nervously, "He knows about me."

"About you?"

"He knows I have magic," she confessed.

She wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting but it wasn't the furrowing of his brow or the pursing of his lips.

"How long has he known?" He asked, his voice annoyingly calm.

"Since Ealdor," she admitted.

"I see."

Hermione's stomach twisted painfully with nerves. "Please don't be mad at him, Arthur," she pleaded, "He witnessed me using my magic, and Merlin confessed that before he died, William asked him to watch over me. When I came to Camelot and he saw how close we were growing, he pleaded with me to tell you the truth about me, he swore you would not care and that you weren't your father. But I was too afraid to tell you the truth."

Arthur released a slow breath. He wasn't certain how he should feel. Understanding and appreciative that he'd kept Hermione's secret and complied with her wishes, or angry and annoyed that Merlin hadn't told him, knowing the laws surrounding magic.

"I am only telling you this as I thought you should know, I didn't want for there to be secrets between you."

"The secret and private conversations?" Arthur pressed.

"Some were about my magic and Merlin trying to persuade me to tell you, others were not."

"Whilst I am not happy that he kept such a secret from me, I can understand the reasoning behind it, I can understand that he was acting within your wishes," he said and Hermione released a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, he truly does not deserve your ire. If there is one person you should be angry with, it is me."

"No matter what you may do, I do not have it in me to be angry at you," he vowed.

Her mouth pulled into a smile. "Give it time, My Prince, I assure you, I can be very trying."

He laughed. "Believe me, I am aware, I have never felt such stress during the time of your guards being away from their duties."

Hermione smiled proudly and lifted her chin and Arthur shook his head at her.

"There is something I wish to try," she said.

"And that is?" He arched an eyebrow.

"There is something that I was able to do but since the ending of the war, I've been too afraid to cast such magics."

"Why?" His brow furrowed in concern.

"It requires the use of a powerful happy memory and self-belief and given the trials I faced during the time of the war, I found that I no longer felt safe or happy. All I remember is fear, pain and death. I was afraid that all of my memories had been tainted, that my soul was tainted. You see, Arthur, when magic is used to take a life, it places a small crack in our souls and we will never be the same again. I was afraid that I would no longer be worthy of casting such magic."

"And now?" He questioned softly.

"And now, since meeting you and coming to Camelot, I have honestly never felt safer and I can't remember a time I was this happy."

He smiled at her and his hand came up to her cheek before he leaned forward, pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth and then leaned his forehead against hers, hearing her little sigh of content.

"I can truthfully say that right now, in this moment, I have never been happier," he muttered. "And I swear, you will always be safe in Camelot and with me. I won't allow anyone to harm you, including my father."

"I believe you," she replied softly. She truly did.

"And this magic you wish to cast, what is it?"

"It's best I show you," she drew back from him and stood to her feet, taking a few steps away from him as he stared up at her from his place sat on the blanket.

Her eyes briefly locked with his before they fluttered closed and whilst she straightened her posture, her body seemed to relax and she raised her arm, angling it towards the sky.

He didn't hear what she whispered but he saw a burst of blue-silver mist come from her hand and although he had no idea what he'd expected or what should have happened, he knew from the moment Hermione opened her eyes, that it hadn't worked. Her posture slumped in defeat, her arm lowered and her hopeful expression crumpled into disappointment. She looked so small and broken as she folded her arms around her stomach and bowed her head. He hated it.

He was quick to stand to his feet and approach her, gently uncurling her arms from around her before he tugged her forward and into him, her arms slotting around him as she buried her face against his chest, sniffling, and he folded his arms around her, holding her to him gently as his chin rested atop her head.

"It didn't work," she sniffled.

His heart broke for her. Whatever she'd been trying to do, it had meant a lot to her and although he didn't understand why, he knew he had to do everything he could to help her.

"I know, perhaps you should try once more," he encouraged softly.

"I can't do it, Arthur. I can't face the disappointment again."

"Whilst there is a possibility of you being disappointed, there is an equal opportunity that you won't be."

"I don't have it me," she whispered.

He snorted. "Princess, you are the most intelligent woman I have ever met, and though I would never insult your intelligence, I must give myself leave to do so this one time. If you truly believe that you are incapable of casting this magic, then you are an idiot."

"Arthur!" She protested weakly.

Her mouth twitched in amusement. "The woman I know, the woman I love, would never admit defeat so easily. The woman I am to marry and the woman that is to be my Queen, would never admit defeat without putting up a fight first. If there is one thing I know about you, it is that you are a fighter. I love you and I believe in you. I know you can do this. Please, try again. If not for yourself, then for me."

She was silent for a moment before she sniffled and then she said, "Okay," she acquiesced. "I will try one more for you but if it doesn't work, I can't face it again, I won't face it again."

"That is all I ask, one more attempt before you give up."

He made to draw back to allow her space to do what she needed but she tightened her hold on him, refusing to let go.

"If I'm going to do this, I'm going to need you," she said quietly.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I believe in you."

He heard her sigh and her cheek shifted until it pressed against his chest, over his heart, listening to the rhythm of his steady heartbeat. After a moment, she lifted her head and gazed up at him before she reached up on and tiptoes and her eyes fluttered closed as she pressed her mouth against his in a chaste but lingering kiss. She drew back slightly, her eyes remaining closed and when she whispered her next words, he felt her lips brush his.

"Expecto Patronum."

He heard and saw nothing until he noticed a blue-silver light surrounding them, but he couldn't take his eyes away from Hermione's gaze to see what had caused it.

"I'm too afraid to look," she confessed.

"Just as we will do everything in the future, we will do this together," he promised, drawing back from her.

They turned around slowly, Arthur's eyes widening and his mouth parting as a strangled noise of surprise left him, whilst he heard Hermione's breath hitch and her hand came up to her mouth.

As he had before, he wasn't sure what to expect or what should have happened but he most certainly wasn't expecting for there to a blue-silver misty creature stood before him, because that's what it was, a creature. He'd never seen or heard of such a being before. It had the head, body and front legs of a lion, but the wings, hind legs and tail of a dragon, and it was huge, being a little over half the size of him. It flapped its large wings which had a span of what looked to be double his height, and its large tail swished back and forth lazily.

"Gods!" Hermione whispered.

"What is it?" Arthur finally managed to find the words to speak.

Whilst he eyed the creature before him warily, he didn't feel the need to retrieve his sword and protect Hermione. Not only was Hermione responsible for such a creature being conjured, not only did it remain perfectly still, making no move to approach or threaten them, but it also looked to have been made from mist and fog, logically, it would be impossible for it to harm them.

"I don't believe it has a name, I've never heard tale of or seen such a creature," she answered in surprise, unable to take her eyes from it.

"Had you intended for this to happen?" He asked curiously after noting she seemed just as surprised as he was.

"Yes and no," she answered, confusing him.

When he saw her take a step forward, his instinct was to reach out and stop her from approaching the creature but he forced it down, carefully observing as she closed the distance between them and without fear or concern, she set her hand against the creature's head, her fingers carding through the thick mane of fur. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly (he hadn't decided yet) the creature welcomed the touch, releasing a strange purring sound as it pressed against her hand firmly, stepping closer until it brushed up against her and it's large tail wrapped around her legs.

"He won't harm you, Arthur," she said softly. "He is incapable of harming any living being," she promised.

She then held her free hand out to him expectantly and he hesitantly crossed to her, taking her hand in his and allowing her to bring it towards the creature, it sniffing at his hand before it lowered its head in offering. Hermione released his hand and he slowly brought it to the mane, being surprised when he felt the thick, soft fur between his fingers, not having expected it to feel so real given it being composed of mist.

"You're wondering what it is, aren't you?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"This is a Patronus," she began, "In short, this is my magic and soul in corporal form. Patronuses are used for communication purposes, allowing witches and wizards to send untraceable messages to one another. They are also used for companionship and most importantly, they are the only thing that is able to defend and protect against dark beings known as dementors, which is a being that feeds on the positivity and happiness in a person's life, and they are capable of removing the human soul with a single kiss."

His expression was one of horror, she noted.

"And you have experience with such beings?" He asked knowingly.

"Unfortunately," she nodded, "During the war, our enemies had persuaded the dementors to fight for them. We lost many to them. Not every witch or wizard is able to produce such magics, not only does it require a truly powerful happy memory and self-belief, but magical capability it needed also. It is notoriously difficult to perfect and for this, most shy away from it and don't so much as attempt to perform it. In all honesty, this is one of the most difficult forms of magic to exist and not only that, it's the purest."

"How so?" He tipped his head slightly, no longer paying attention to the hybrid creature that was brushing up against them affectionately as they ran their hands through its mane.

"I'm not entirely sure," she admitted, "But I do know it has the same purity and power of a unicorn or a beam of light from a blue moon caught in a jar. And due to this, this magic can only be performed by those of pure heart. It is impossible for a dark practitioner to perform and if they were to attempt it, as punishment, it is said they are to be eaten alive by maggots, but I've never witnessed it for myself so I can't be certain," she shrugged lightly and he blinked in surprise. "And that, Arthur, is how you know I am good, not dark or evil."

"I never doubted it," he vowed and she smiled at him. "And the creature, it is clear you were surprised?"

"I was not expecting this," she admitted. "The Patronus represents the witch's or wizard's magic and soul, but it can also represent their character. I was expecting it to be a small otter, an animal known for being playful, optimistic and wise."

"And it has changed," he stated.

"It has, to him," she gestured to the creature between them with a tip of her head. "A Patronus may change during a time of change or serious emotional upset."

"War," he muttered softly.

"War," she agreed. "Not only that but William's death, discovering the truth about my birth and family, meeting my father, discovering that you knew of my magic, confessing my love for you and agreeing to be your wife, all in less than a year."

"You've had quite the year," he mused.

She laughed. "I have," she nodded.

"And the creature? Is it normal?"

"I don't believe so," her brow furrowed. "At least, I've never heard of such a case. Whilst it has been known that some have magical creatures as their Patronus, I don't believe anyone has ever possessed a hybrid quite like mine."

"And the meaning?" He probed.

A smile tugged at her mouth. "Well, the lion is known to represent loyalty, patience, intelligence, reliability and protection. Dragons are said to represent growth, prosperity, wisdom and fertility. But most of all, my family crest bears that of a lion, and yours bears that of a dragon."

He blinked slowly before he lowered his gaze to the creature that pressed its head forcefully into his hand when he'd paused scratching it behind the ears. She was right, he realised. Despite it being an odd combination, as he gazed down at the creature, he realised that there was something oddly beautiful about it and although it shouldn't work, it did.

He realised it was the perfect representation of the joining of their families and Kingdoms, and at that recognition, he felt his mouth pull into a smile. Although before he'd been by no means afraid of the creature, only wary, he felt himself relaxing completely, feeling a gentle tingle over his fingers, a shiver darting down his spine and his chest filling with warmth. It was her, he realised. The creature felt like Hermione, like her magic, he supposed.

"Thank you, Arthur," she sighed softly, clarifying when he tipped his head, puzzled, "If it wasn't for you, for your insistence that I try again, for you love and your belief in me, I fear I would have never seen my Patronus again."

"I will always encourage you and I will always believe in you," he vowed.

"I don't deserve you."

He snorted. "Princess, it is I that does not deserve you." She smiled at him softly. "Perhaps your father might know the name of this creature? Given all of the tales of creatures and beings, I imagine it must have one or that it is thought to exist," he mused. "Is your father capable of performing this magic?"

"Yes," she nodded with a smile.

Hermione had never been happier when she'd discovered the news, after hesitantly broaching the subject, not wanting to speak of potentially future magics if they hadn't yet been invented. And it was much to her relief that Godric had informed her the Patronus had been first introduced to the world of magic before even he had been born, which meant they'd be able to remain in contact without requiring the need for letters or riders to deliver them, and it would be a lot quicker, too. And it was no surprise that she'd discovered his Patronus to be that of a lion, one that was only a little bigger than hers. Of course, that day he'd attempted to persuade to try and conjure a Patronus for the first time in years but she'd been too afraid to do so, this day being the first she had done so.

"My father's is a lion."

"Hmmm," he hummed thoughtfully, "And would it be safe to assume that other King and Queens of Hogwarts are capable of the same and that their forms manifest in the animals they bear on their crests?"

Hermione beamed at him. "You've a brilliant mind, My Prince," she praised.

Arthur preened under her praise and she giggled and shook her head.

"When was Hogwarts founded?" He asked. "I remember you saying it was founded by four incredibly powerful and influential people, which I now understand you meant magically powerful. I know it was done so as a haven to protect those with magic, but I can't help notice your father shares the same name as one of the founders, and if that were the case, that would mean the other founders are likely to be similar in age, which would mean it is a newly founded Kingdom."

Hermione had hoped the lies would be over now that he knew the truth, apparently not.

"I'm not entirely sure, as you know, I wasn't raised in a castle as a royal, which meant I was never forced to learn the history of my Kingdom, but I do know there's a tradition of naming children after their ancestors. So whilst they do share names, the current royals sitting on the thrones are not the original founders," she lied, "But they are equally as powerful, as is their line of magic and it will continue to be so until it dies out, if it should die out."

"Your father told me you are growing more powerful by the day," commented Arthur.

"He's said the same to me," she nodded. "I believe it is because of the arrival of my father. My family magic has now been unlocked which allows my magic to grow stronger, and that means my magical capability will increase and I'll be able to perform feats of magic I once couldn't, but not only that, the magic I am capable of now should grow to be easier and require less focus or magical power. I don't believe I will ever truly be as powerful as my father, but I know I will be more powerful than the average witch. Those with strong magical families such as mine are generally more powerful than others," she explained. "But of course, that in no way means I am superior to anyone. Some may be more successful in areas in which I struggle, everyone is different."

She hadn't realised how much time had passed and when she heard Arthur's stumble rumbled in hunger, he gave her a sheepish expression and she laughed, shaking her head. Perhaps it was time for dinner, she thought.

Stepping back from her newly changed Patronus, something she knew was going to take a little time to get used to, it disappeared from sight. Arthur blinked and then gave his head a shake before he looked to her in concern, seeing her saddened expression.

"I miss him already," she explained before he'd had the chance to ask after her.

His expression softened. "You've proven to me and yourself you are capable and worthy of performing the magic, and next time I have no doubt you will do so first try."

She turned her eyes to him. "It was you. The thought of you is what allowed me to conjure him."

"And if I were capable of magic, I am certain it would be thoughts of you that would allow me to do the same," he promised, settling his hand on the small of her back and guiding her back over to the blanket, them both taking a seat. "So, when will I be challenged for the chance to win a prize?" He asked.

Hermione visibly perked up as she straightened her posture and smiled at him, just as his stomach gave another rumble of hunger.

"Ah, perfect timing," she grinned. She reached for the basket that had been placed off to the side and from within, she removed a handful of vegetables. Arthur blinked slowly. "For dinner this evening, Arthur, you will be preparing a broth so that we might use the last of the meat and bread."

"Me?" His eyebrow arched.

"Yes, you," she confirmed with a firm nod. "Not to worry, I won't be throwing you into the deep end. I have written down my mother's recipe, however, unlike the cake, this time I won't be helping you, but I assure you, it's simple. All you must do is peel the vegetables and put them to boil."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" He asked, deliberately darting a glance around them at their lack of equipment.

Hermione simply smiled before she waved her hand, a makeshift firepit forming off to the left and away from the blanket, a wriggle of her fingers had a fire bursting to life and then she removed a pot, a bit of parchment and a knife from the basket, Arthur realising she must have used magic to ensure she could fit so many items inside. After unceremoniously depositing the items in his arms, she filled the pot with water with a little magic before she smiled.

"That should be all, the meat is in the basket, and I shall now leave you to it."

Not allowing him the chance to speak, she stood, fished out a handful of apples from the basket and then crossed over to Llameri's still sunbathing form, Hermione taking a seat on the grass beside her and the mare happily taking the offerings from her hands.

~000~000~000~

"The verdict?" Arthur questioned, trying to hide his nerves as he watched Hermione try her first taste of the broth he'd made.

Whilst it appeared to be easy on parchment, Arthur had almost burnt himself on the pot, scolded himself on the water, the onions had stung his eyes and made tears leak, he'd been worried he'd not correctly peeled the vegetables, that he'd over boiled them, that he'd cut the remainder of the chicken into too large pieces and the vegetable too small, not to mention he'd almost lost a finger in the process when the knife slipped as he attempted to chop the carrots. It had been the most stressful experience of his life and he never wanted to experience it again.

"Consider me impressed," she smiled.

"Really?" He asked surprised, looking down at his own bowl of broth, it looking very unappetising, very similar to Merlin's cooking.

"Yes," she nodded, "I know you have no experience cooking and this is the first time you were left to do so without help, and you've done remarkably well."

He breathed a sigh of relief before he tried the broth for himself, immediately noticing that whilst it was full of flavour, the vegetables were still a little too hard. He'd uncooked them, not overcooked them as he'd been previously worried.

He forced down his meal, being much happier when Hermione produced the remainder of the cake from earlier and they polished it off between them, him more so than her, something she'd teased him over.

"My prize?" Arthur asked after everything had been cleaned and packed away with the aid of magic.

"Of course," she said brightly.

Arthur blinked in surprise when she reached behind her and brought forward what looked to be a crown made of wildflowers before she reached up and set it atop his head, Arthur going cross-eyed when he tried to lift his gaze higher to see it. Hermione burst into laughter at his expression, falling onto her back with her hands resting against her stomach. Arthur was torn between amusement and disappointment.

"What's wrong, don't you like it?" Hermione teased after she'd calmed from her laughter. "I spent half an hour making that."

"It is lovely, a little girl's dream crown," he replied and she giggled. "But this is not what I had in mind when you mentioned a prize this morning."

"Oh, very well, I suppose I could rethink my options," she sighed, as if it were an inconvenience to her and he chuckled. "Okay, how about this," she shifted until she was laying on her stomach, her forearms propping her up as she looked to him. "For one day only, I will subtly use my magic to annoy Merlin."

His smile grew larger and his eyes gleamed mischievously.

"How so?"

"Of course, I have to be careful not to be seen, so it will have to be in ways no one will suspect. You say Merlin is clumsy, then it will be no surprise should he suddenly trip in the corridors, fall down the last few steps on a staircase or perhaps even spill food over himself."

"You, Princess, are diabolical, and I love it," he grinned. That was the best prize he'd ever won, it being well worth the stress he'd endured.

"This is me on a good day, you do not want to be on my bad side. I am known for being vindictive when someone I care for is wronged."

"An example would be?" He probed.

She tipped her head, her brow furrowing as she nibbled at her lip, considering if she should tell him, likely being worried it might upset or disappoint him if it involved magic.

"Well, once, when I was sixteen, my friends and I were betrayed by someone we believed to be an ally. As such, I cursed her forehead until 'sneak' was spelt out in acne, not only showing her to be a traitor to our other allies, but to warn others that they should think twice before trusting her."

He stared at her silently before shaking his head. He wasn't sure what he was expecting but it wasn't that, especially with magic being involved. And although it wasn't a painful or horrifying punishment, he knew how vain some women could be, especially if they were of nobility and royalty, in which case, it was likely the worst punishment Hermione could have given.

"Creative and embarrassing but not painful," he mused.

"Exactly," Hermione nodded. "I made it so it couldn't be covered and she had to grow her hair so it couldn't be seen. I had every intention of reversing it once she apologised, but she never did," she shrugged. "Anyway, I have something for you."

"Another prize?" His eyebrow arched questioningly.

"No," she laughed. "It's something I've been working on for a few months but I was able to put the finishing touches on it this morning and it's now complete."

She pushed herself onto her knees before she reached into the basket once more and then shifted until she sat with her legs folded beneath her. Holding out her hand, he lifted his own and then she deposited something into his palm.

Lowering his gaze, he saw a silver cuff bracelet sitting in his palm and although it looked simple and unassuming, he had the feeling it was anything but. Holding it between his fingers, he brought it to his eye level, seeing in the centre the unmistakable Pendragon crest stamped into the silver and beside that, was the Gryffindor crest, too.

His eyes darted to her questioningly.

"Think of it as a wedding gift," she smiled and shrugged. "It may appear to be simple, but it's not," she promised, confirming what he'd already suspected. "Firstly, my magic is embedded into the metal and I've layered a series of spell work with it. The purpose is to ensure that you are never again targeted with a Love Spell, and if you are, it will be ineffective. I never again want you to feel unfocused or not in control of actions." He blinked in surprise. "Secondly, I've fitted it with magics that will allow for you to contact me in emergencies. Should you ever find yourself in a dangerous situation in which you might need my help or magic, all you have to do is say my name three times in a row, and I will be with you as soon as possible. And to make you aware that I am on my way, the metal will heat up against your skin."

"But how will you find me? And how will you get to me so quickly?" He asked, puzzled.

She smiled. "With my magic being imbued with the silver, I will be able to lock onto the signature and it will lead me to you. As for how I will get to you, trust me, I have my ways. Something I'll tell you about later as I don't wish to overwhelm you too much, given how much magic you've witnessed today. Thirdly, I've fitted it with a serious of protection wards which will deflect the most common hexes and curses performed by the trueborns. And lastly, only you can remove it. Should anyone ever attempt to rob you, they won't be able to take it from you."

"That's incredible," he praised in wonder, his mouth twitching when he saw her cheeks flush pink.

"Thank you, I'd always intended to give this to you for protection against magic, just without explaining its purpose, but now that you know, I no longer have to hide that from you. But it is probably best we keep the magic aspect quiet, I can only imagine the response we'll receive from your father."

"Thank you, and if it will offer me protection, I promise to never remove it," he vowed, slipping the silver band around his left wrist, laughing when it resized until it fit perfectly, much like he'd seen the betrothal necklace do the same around Hermione's neck the day before. "I truly appreciate the time and effort you've put into this."

She smiled at him, it widening after he'd leaned forward to press a kiss to her mouth.

"You're welcome," she tipped her head slightly. "And as much as I hate to say this, we have been gone from the castle for hours and I know that should we not return soon, someone will come looking for us and I do not want to be forcibly bound to the castle by your father again, it was maddening."

He snorted. Whilst for him it hadn't made much of a difference to his routine as he had the training field and meetings to attend, all of Hermione's responsibilities had lain outside of the castle grounds and she'd had nothing to keep her occupied.

"Agreed," he nodded.

Rising to his feet, he helped Hermione to stand and with everything already packed away, he turned his attention to convincing his mare to wake from her nap in the sun, something she didn't wish to do and Hermione stood off to the side, laughing and teasing him. When Llameri begrudgingly listened, only after Hermione bribed her with apples, Arthur helped her to mount the saddle, he quickly returned the blanket to the saddlebag and then handed her the basket before climbing up after her.

As they slowly made their return to the castle in the evening sun with Hermione leaning back into his chest sleepily and Arthur smiling down at her fondly, a part of him couldn't help but think that something was coming. Something that he didn't understand and something that was going to change everything.