Utter Perfection

A/N: Drum roll Here it is! The sequel to Fated! As promised. You lot have stuck with this for so incredibly long, and would just like to thank you all for reading (especially those who review!). Anyway, less waffle from me, on with the story!

The large townhouse in the centre of London gave little away about its occupants. The neighbours thought that they were a normal young power couple, complete with a pampered little daughter. Any wizards or witches passing the house would see the smoke coming from the Floo and nod knowingly to one another. However, the Weasleys were not normal, even from a wizard's point of view. Any Muggles living in the area would be surprised to know that one half of the power couple went to work through the fireplace and did most household tasks using a magic wand. Wizards, however, would be more surprised to know that the woman of the house was not only a Muggle, but probably the most famous Muggle in wizarding history, having single-handedly vanquished Voldemort.

No, Sally and Ron Weasley were far from normal. And they wouldn't have it any other way.

A half magic-half Muggle household certainly had its difficulties, however. After a lot of deliberation, Ron and Sally had decided to split the house in half, one half of the house containing computers, televisions, fax machines and any other electrical device that wouldn't work around magic, and the other half of the house containing the Floo, cauldrons, quills and everything else that Ron insisted was essential for everyday life.

The biggest clash between the couple had been the previous summer. Sally had decided that their daughter Emily should start school in the autumn, along with most other four-year-olds in the country. Ron, having been educated at home, had been horrified at the idea of sending a child so young to school, and suggested that Sally tutor her at home until she received her Hogwarts letter. Unlike Ron, who was convinced that Emily was perfect in every way, Sally had noticed that their daughter had not as yet shown any signs of being particularly magical, and had realised that the letter from Hogwarts may never come. Ron, however, had put his foot down, saying that this was the one thing that he was not going to change his mind about.

Emily started school in September.

Harry walked down the corridor along the seventh floor of the Ministry of Magic building, feeling more than slightly annoyed. He had just been to see the Head of Magical Games and Sports, a young hooray just out of Hogwarts, whose main aim in life seemed to be to get free tickets to as many sporting events as he could possibly manage. Talking to him, in Harry's opinion, was more painful and less effective than banging one's head against a brick wall.

Taking the lift down to level two, Harry decided to pay Ron a visit. As he walked down the corridor containing the Aurors' offices, he greeted those that he had known from the days of the Order of the Phoenix. After Voldemort's downfall, the Order of the Phoenix had disbanded. The death of Dumbledore shortly afterwards had marked a turning point for the Order, and the members had generally gone their separate ways. Although Harry was still in touch with some of them, most members he had all but forgotten.

As Harry poked his head into Sturgis Podmore's office, he spotted Sturgis' daughter sitting with her feet on the desk reading a copy of the Daily Prophet. Clara Podmore was the youngest of Sturgis' three daughters, and often babysat for the Weasleys, meaning that Harry knew her well. She was a Gryffindor with a sharp wit, and was well known for coming up with elaborate and often amusing excuses to get herself out of detentions.

Clara looked up from the newspaper and waved.

"You doing a sudoku?" asked Harry.

Clara nodded.

Walking round so that he could see the newspaper, Harry looked at the number puzzle.

"The fives go there, there and there," said Harry, pointing to each of the squares.

Clara looked up at him and smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem. How are the NEWTS going?"

Clara groaned. "Terrible. Way too much work. I really want to drop Divination. I'm convinced I'm going to get a 'T' in it."

Harry laughed. "Everyone feels like that in the summer before their seventh year. You'll be fine."

Clara looked sceptical. Shaking his head, Harry went to leave. Before he went out the door, he turned back and saw that Clara was looking at him over the top of her newspaper. Meeting his gaze, she blushed and quickly moved the newspaper up to cover her face.

Harry grinned. Sally often teased him about the fact that Clara had a rather large crush on him.

Ron looked up from his desk as his best friend entered his office. After the usual greetings, Ron returned to what he had been doing previously – searching through a large pile of papers for a Death Eater's file. Harry moved over to help him.

"You know," said Harry, unearthing a picture of Sally and Emily, "this would be easier if you had some sort of system."

Ron looked affronted. "I do have a system! See, here it is," he said, pulling out the file he had been looking for and causing another stack of papers to fall to the floor.

Harry smirked. "I stand corrected."

Despite his disorganisation, Ron was a fantastic Auror. He had an eye for detail, and his tenacity made him invaluable. Although Ron complained about it constantly, it was clear that he loved his job and wouldn't ever want to do anything else – something that made Harry glad he hadn't followed that particular career path.

"Just came in to say hi," said Harry, as Ron leafed through the file. "Do you want to go get a drink later?"

"Yeah," said Ron, not looking up. "I've got a few things to do, so let's say I'll meet you in the Leaky Cauldron at about six."

"Okay," said Harry, realising that he wasn't going to get much else out of his friend. "I'll see you in a bit."

As Harry stepped out onto the street, he realised that he had nothing to do. One of the disadvantages of being an international sporting superstar was that training was generally in the mornings, and as everyone else worked from at least nine to five it left him with a lot of time to kill. Apparating to Diagon Alley, Harry half heartedly flipped through books in Flourish and Blotts, before succumbing to the cliché and going to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Although broom manufacturers now begged Harry to fly their latest models, he still found that gazing at a broom in Quality Quidditch Supplies was just as exhilarating as it had been when he was a teenager. As he went to pick up a brochure for the new Nimbus Aurora, another hand grabbed the same pamphlet.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said a fair-haired woman, handing Harry the brochure. Instead of walking away she frowned, as if trying to remember something.

"Harry? Harry Potter?"

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes, and prepared to be asked for his autograph. As he looked at the woman, however, he realised that he recognised her.

"Alicia Spinnet?"

The woman smiled. "I knew it was you. How long has it been? Fifteen years?"

"Something like that. How are you? What are you up to now? Do you still play?" asked Harry, gesturing to the equipment around them.

Alicia shook her head. "Not really, not any more. I'm a Healer now, actually." She laughed. "No need to ask if you still play, England's star seeker.

Harry smiled and nodded. There was a short silence. Looking around, Alicia caught sight of a clock.

"Look," she said, "I really have to dash, but we must meet up and go for lunch or something."

"Absolutely," said Harry. "It was really great seeing you again."

As he watched her leave the shop, it occurred to Harry that although 'great seeing you again' was a standard response, he had genuinely meant it.