Hi!

So, I honestly don't know what this is, but it was certainly fun to write.

I did my best, with the help of the internet, to make this as accurate as possible with the terms, slang, etc. used but as I am American and know very little about British customs as a whole, please excuse any mistakes I may have made. Enjoy!

It was not unusual, during the Quidditch season, for Harry Potter to be found at the residence of Ron and Hermione Weasley on the occasions when Ginny Potter was away for matches in other countries, for which she was often gone for any number of days on end and during which Harry, not wanting to be alone, often took advantage of the open-door policy that existed between him and his best friends. One such occasion, a Thursday night, found the trio together in Ron and Hermione's cozy living room, munching on the last of the Beef Wellington that had made up their dinner. Harry and Ron discussed the most recent Quidditch team standings while Hermione, not even feigning interest, flipped idly through a stack of parchment that, given the way in which she handled it, must have been only of minor importance.

"So," Ron said, depositing his plate on the coffee table by his knees before leaning back against the loveseat and laying an arm casually around his wife's shoulders, "When is Ginny coming back, again?"

Harry, sat comfortably on the opposite sofa, shrugged. "It depends on how they do against Appleby tomorrow. Could be late tomorrow night, could be longer."

Ron nodded. "I'm just wondering when we'll get our weeknights back, is all. Honestly, we should just start putting you up in the spare room, you're here often enough."

"Ron," Hermione scolded from beside him, "Harry knows he's welcome here whenever he likes."

"Thank you, Hermione," Harry grinned in reply, "And anyway, I did bring dinner, so I'm not completely useless."

"That is true," Ron allowed, grinning himself, "We'll never turn you away so long as you bring food, mate."

"Thanks, Ron."

"You are a very good cook, Harry," Hermione said, "I'll give you that. Ginny's very lucky."

"Oi," said Ron, "I'd cook for you, Hermione. You don't let me."

"That's because the last time you tried, you almost burnt our kitchen down."

"That's not true," Ron scoffed.

"There were open flames, Ron! And smoke billowing from the pan!"

"I aguamentied it," Ron defended, "It was fine."

"It was charcoal," Hermione deadpanned, "Soggy charcoal."

Harry, meanwhile, was laughing. "Sounds appetizing," he commented.

"Alright, fine," Ron said, "So I can't cook. At least I tried."

"I know," Hermione told him, "And I love you for it."

Ron, after a somewhat gooey look at Hermione, thankfully turned to Harry again. "Honestly, I don't see how Ginny is any better than I am. She was never what you'd call particularly domestic growing up, hard as Mum tried."

"She's not a bad cook," Harry defended, "I'm just… better?"

"I'm going to tell her you said that," Ron said with a smirk.

"It's not a bad thing, really," Hermione said, "I mean, with her away so much, you'd likely starve otherwise, Harry."

"No, he wouldn't," Ron put in, "He'd be like the other bachelors in the Auror Office who live off the food in the break room."

"But that's all rubbish," said Hermione.

"Exactly," replied Ron.

"I'm not a bachelor," Harry corrected him.

"Yeah, but Ginny's gone often enough, you might as well be," was his response.

Harry, with a raised eyebrow, said, "I'm going to tell her you said that."

"Oh, please don't," Ron replied, looking worried.

"You don't think the single Aurors really live off the break room food, do you?" Hermione asked, apparently quite concerned with the matter.

"Well, they're new and work rather long hours, so I wouldn't be surprised," answered Harry, "Why?"

"Because that's not healthy at all," she said in response, sounding slightly indignant, "It's all crisps and sweets. I mean, they're doing one of the most dangerous jobs out there, the least they can do is eat well."

"And what exactly do you propose we do about it?" Ron asked, looking skeptically at her.

"You? Nothing. Although I do think some accommodations should be made for them, for all of you. I know for a fact that the Ministry is more than financially able to provide your office with actual food rather than unhealthy snacks, and since you're out there risking your lives for the safety and betterment of said Ministry, I think it's only fair."

Harry was silent, staring at her. Ron blinked, "Really?"

"Yes, Ron." She looked thoughtful. "I have a meeting with the head of Magical Law Enforcement on Monday. I think I'll mention it then."

"Er, don't take this the wrong way, Hermione, but why exactly would Anderson listen to you?" Harry asked.

"Well, for one, my husband and brother-in-law are both Aurors and I would not want either of you in that position. I can be persuasive when I want to, you know. Not to mention, Kingsley was an Auror as well, and I think he'd be more than happy to take the idea into consideration if MLE won't."

"So you're going to pull rank," Ron summarized.

"If I have to." Ron, in response, just shook his head and gave a laugh. Neither was particularly surprised, considering it was Hermione.

"Well," said Harry, "The new recruits will certainly be happy with you. I'm not sure Robards has let them leave before nine o'clock any night yet this week."

"He hasn't let us leave before then some nights either," Ron grumbled.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose that's what we signed up for, mate."

"Yeah," said Ron, "I guess I didn't know what I as getting myself into at times." Harry, unsure of what to say to that, just shrugged. He'd noticed that Ron, over the past year, had seemed to lose some of his enthusiasm for the job, and he couldn't help wondering if Ron would soon be following after Neville in pursuing a different career path. Harry, unhappy as he'd be to lose his best friend as a partner, thought that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. He, personally, enjoyed his work with the Auror Office, but it was not a job for the faint of heart, or for someone whose passion for it had faded. "In any case, at least the food will be better, if Hermione has anything to say about it," he added with a sidelong grin cast at his wife.

"It certainly will," Hermione replied with a determined sort of finality.

Ron shared a glance with Harry and said, "We're grown men and Hermione is still taking care of us."

Harry grinned, "You married her."

"Oi. You should be thanking me. I could have married…" He trailed off when he noticed Hermione's raised eyebrows.

"Yes?" she asked, looking at him with barely disguised amusement, "Who could you have married, Ron?"

"Someone… less caring." Ron answered, recovering almost smoothly. "Because you're really too good for me, 'Mione."

Hermione hummed approvingly. "Nice save," she told him with a smirk.

"I, for one, am very glad you married her, Ron," Harry put in, looking still at Hermione before cutting his gaze to Ron. "Because Lavender would have been a nightmare."

Hermione snorted. Ron groaned. "Back to her again, are we?"

"Sorry, mate, but you'll never live that one down. Might as well face it."

"I don't talk about that time in my life."

"Well, Ginny certainly does," laughed Harry, "We have a good laugh about it every once in a while."

"I was sixteen!"

"That's an awful excuse," laughed Hermione, clearly enjoying herself at her husband's expense.

"No, it isn't. You mean to tell me you don't regret your failed relationships from back then? What about Vctor Krum?"

"Victor and I were nothing more than pen-friends," Hermione answered pleasantly, "You know that."

"Cormac though," Harry put in, "You went with Cormac McLaggen to Slughorn's Christmas party in Sixth Year. Which, frankly, I still have trouble believing."

"Yeah!" Ron said. "Of all people, really!"

Hermione paused and considered that. "We were never actually together," she informed them, glancing at Ron, "I only did that to make you jealous."

"According to you, maybe. I think he was quite serious about your relationship, short as it was," said Harry.

"There was no relationship to speak of," Hermione insisted, "The boy was a slimy git."

"Still," Ron said.

"And you shouldn't talk, Harry," Hermione said, "You have the whole Cho disaster under your belt from Fifth Year."

"Yeah, but they only really snogged that one time, right?" Ron countered, "It was just a bunch of dramatic rubbish on her end after that," he said, looking to Harry, "Really, hard as it is to admit, since you're married to my little sister, you're probably the most innocent of us."

"Fair enough," Harry reasoned, and then, after a short pause, shook his head. "We were all a mess as teenagers, weren't we?"

"You more than most," Hermione told him candidly, "Though not for the same reasons we were."

"Although, Ginny still found you appealing, for reasons I neither understand nor care to," said Ron.

"Thanks, mate," Harry said with a dry smile.

"How is Ginny anyway, Harry?" Hermione asked, "I haven't heard from her since she owled last week."

"She's alright," replied Harry, "Doing a lot better now that her head is healed."

"Her head?" Hermione asked, "What happened to her head?"

"Ron didn't tell you?" Harry inquired.

"No," she answered, turning her imperious stare on Ron once again.

"I forgot?" Ron offered with an expression that tried for innocence.

Shaking her head, Hermione asked Harry, "What happened?"

"She took a Bludger to the head last week in Wimborne. Got a nasty concussion. She was very nearly knocked out of the sky."

"Wimborne?" Hermione asked, "Weren't you at that game?"

"Yeah," answered Harry, "I saw it happen. It was rather terrifying to watch."

"I can imagine," said Hermione, turning to Ron. "How could you not mention that?"

"Sorry?" he apologized in a manner that was more questioning than imperative.

"Such concern for your sister," Harry said wryly.

"You told me she was fine; nothing to worry about!"

"She is."

"And she's playing Appleby tomorrow?" Hermione asked. "That seems soon."

"She's been medically cleared. And even if she wasn't, I'm not sure she'd willingly sit it out anyway. She was on modified play for most of this week and I think it was making her rather stir-crazy."

"They didn't think to send her home to recover?"

"It's a pretty common injury in Quidditch. Not severe enough for a leave of absence. And Wimborne and Appleby are near enough each other that Gwenog had the team stay the week for practices there, I suppose to get them used to the different altitude and all."

"That seems unnecessary. She's been away for over two weeks already," Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. "She does get off almost six full months in the off-season though, so I suppose I can't really complain. And she likely won't be kept longer than another week or so before she's given a few days off, which is good. Teddy misses her."

"Just Teddy," Ron put in with a smirk.

"Do you know how long she plans to play professionally?" Hermione asked, "She's been with them for a while now, hasn't she?"

"About three years," Harry confirmed.

"Three years," Hermione repeated, "How long do Quidditch careers usually last?"

"Depends," Ron put in. "Alan Ware played with the Cannons for almost twenty years. I mean, the average player doesn't last half that long, but you never know."

"What about once Harry and Ginny start having children? I'd assume Ginny would probably retire, or at least take a few years off then?"

Harry blinked while Ron closed his eyes tightly and exhaled, "Not an image I want of my best mate and my baby sister, Hermione. Thanks."

"I could happen," Hermione reasoned, "Honestly, Ron, they're married. It's not like the two are celibate. I'm sure they'll have a baby someday."

Harry, more than a little embarrassed, replied, "Well, yeah, someday, I suppose. I mean, well… yeah, of course. Someday. Not now. And, yes, at that point Ginny will probably retire, or at least step down for a bit. It's up to her, really."

Beside Hermione, Ron shuddered, looking disturbed. "Out of everyone she could be with, I'm glad it's you, mate, but I still really don't want to think about that," Ron told Harry, "Sorry."

Harry shrugged, unconcerned, while Hermione said, "Honestly, Ron. It wouldn't be any different than when we decide to have a baby."

"Yeah, but that isn't going to be for a while?" Ron replied. His words turned up at the end so his statement ended up a question.

"Well I certainly don't intend to wait until we're old and wrinkled to start trying," Hermione informed him frankly. Harry raised his eyebrows, feeling no less awkward than he had a moment earlier and thinking that this was not a conversation he wanted to be privy to. Hermione glanced at Harry and then looked back to Ron, rolled her eyes at the expression on his face, and said simply, "We'll discuss it later."

"Much obliged," Harry said dryly.

"Sorry, mate," Ron said, "But you and Ginny have uncomfortable conversations in my presence too. It's only fair."

Harry stared at him for a moment. "That's because you usually show up unannounced in the middle of them."

Ron considered that and then shrugged. "Fair enough." Harry grinned and shook his head.

Hermione, rolling her eyes at the both of them, changed the subject. "Are you getting Teddy tomorrow, Harry?"

"I plan to," said Harry, "Assuming Robards lets me leave before he goes to bed. I promised him we'd go to the zoo on Saturday."

"It's nice that you take him on the weekends," said Hermione, "I mean, Andromeda is lovely and she adores that boy, but she's not as young as she once was, and, well, Teddy needs someone who can throw a ball with him in the yard and talk to him about the things his grandmother can't." She met Harry's eyes kindly. "He needs a father figure."

"Remus would have done the same for me if the roles were reversed," Harry replied.

"We all would, mate," said Ron.

Harry smiled at his friend. "Thanks, Ron. And anyway, I love Teddy like my own, so it's no problem."

"He's lucky to have you," said Hermione.

"Just for the record though," Ron put in, "Teddy has fun when he's here with us too."

"Sure he does," Harry said, "He loves you two." Hermione smiled, apparently happy to hear that. He looked to Ron, who had picked up the day's edition of the Daily Prophet and was flipping idly through it. "Anything interesting in there?" He'd not had the chance to read through his own copy when it was delivered that morning.

"Not really," answered Ron, "You're in the gossip pages again though."

"Big surprise, that," Harry replied dryly. "Why were you looking through the gossip pages?"

"I wasn't. I was looking for the sports section, and I noticed your name on the page before I turned it."

"What have I done this time?"

"Apparently they think your marriage is failing because you don't show up to every one of Ginny's Quidditch matches."

"But that's ridiculous," Hermione said, disgusted, as she usually was when the Potters' names appeared in the Prophet's rag pages and were, more often than not, dragged through the mud- a near biweekly occurrence. "Ginny's games are all over the country, and Harry works exceptionally long hours and still makes it to more than half of them. His job's not exactly a secret."

"The opposite, really," said Harry. He'd been with the Auror Office for over four years now, and he was still waiting for the day when everyone stopped making a fuss about it.

"And here I am, your best mate, and I had no idea you and Ginny were having problems," Ron demanded, playing at wounded, "My little sister. How could you not tell me?"

"The time was never right," Harry replied sardonically.

"What terrible reasoning," Hermione said of the article's insinuation, shaking her head. "I know the Prophet is it's own entity and all, but really, how can a respectable newspaper get away with printing such outright lies?"

"At least it's not the front page this time," Harry offered, "To be fair, most self-respecting people skip right over the gossip pages anyway." He'd long since gotten over growing angry about what the papers wrote about him.

"I know," sighed Hermione, "It just isn't right."

"That's what you get for having celebrity status, mate," Ron told him.

"That's not fair, Ron. Harry didn't ask to be famous."

"I know that. But it's still true."

"And I don't remember you being so gracious about it when it was us they were writing about."

"I wasn't," admitted Ron easily, "And I'll tell ya, mate," he added at Harry, "I don't know how you and Ginny put up with it. The year after the war before they forgot about the rest of us was more than enough for me."

Harry shrugged, "Getting mad about it only makes it worse. Ginny, you lot, and everyone important know the truth. I don't care what the others think, honestly."

"It's still horrible," said Hermione resignedly.

"Yeah, it is," Harry admitted.

"Ah well," Ron said, putting the Prophet down at last, "Nothing you can do, I suppose. What do you say, 'Mione, should we put a film on?"

Hermione exchanged an amused look with Harry. They, having been raised in the Muggle world, could never muster quite the level of enthusiasm Ron had toward films. He was nowhere near as infatuated with Muggle technology as Arthur, but films were the one instance at which he was constantly amazed, though Hermione, at least, seemed to find his excitement toward them to be rather endearing. With a small smile, she answered, "Sure."

"Brilliant," Ron said, getting to his feet, "I'll pick the film. Hermione, can you make popcorn?"

Hermione looked at him for a second before she shook her head, still smiling, surely at the fact that they had all just eaten a rather large meal not half an hour earlier. "Yes," she said, and stood herself. Harry gathered up the plates from dinner and followed her into the kitchen to deposit them in the sink.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said, noticing, "You didn't have to clean up."

Harry shrugged, "It's no problem." He grinned. "I'm hardly a guest anymore. I should earn my keep."

"You were never a guest, Harry. You've always been family."

"Even less of an excuse to not help out then."

Hermione smiled as she prepared a pot on the stove for the kernels. "I'm glad you come here when Ginny's away. It's lovely having you around," she said as Harry began moving back toward the living room, hoping Ron hadn't picked something too ludicrous.

"Well that's good, Harry replied, pausing in the kitchen's doorway, "Because there's nowhere else I'd rather spend my lonely weeknights." He continued forward then, calling playfully over his shoulder, "When you do get sick of me though, don't hesitate to kick me out. I'll understand."

Hermione grinned down at her work. "Okay."

I imagine this scene taking place 2.5 to 3 years before James is born, meaning our trio is about 22-still very young to start a family, hence the hesitation Harry and Ron seem to have with doing so. I didn't want it to seem like they don't want kids of their own, only that they aren't ready to quite yet. If it didn't come across that way, I apologize.

Anyway, thanks for reading! Hopefully you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the box below. :)