A/N: Hogwarts Houses Challenges - Camp Hogwarts Challenge, Drabble Club, and The Quidditch Pitch.
Prompt (Camp Hogwarts Challenge): Fort Building - write about the trio rebuilding the Magical World after the Battle of Hogwarts.
Prompt (Drabble Club): Dialogue - "Oh bugger."
Prompt (The Quidditch Pitch): Dialogue - "You think you're so clever, don't you?"
Words: approximately 965.
Onward! To three exhausted friends who wind up rather punch drunk, goofy, and then possibly a bit maudlin there at the end.
Disclaimer: What am I? I am chopped liver! (And therefore own nothing.)
"Merlin's beard," Ron groaned as he collapsed into the remaining empty chair at their table. Despite the late hour, the Three Broomsticks was nearly full and they were lucky they had managed to get a table at all – the pub had become a catch-all for the overflow from those working to rebuild Hogwarts. "I can't believe how much we have to work at this!"
Hermione, partially slumped over the table in exhaustion, straightened slightly, wincing as she did so – just a moment of rest was enough time to allow her body to stiffen. "You couldn't have thought it would be easy?" she asked.
A witch came by, setting three butterbeers down on the table in front of the trio. Ron's response was delayed as he picked up the mug and chugged half the contents. "It's wards! Bloody hell, all we're doing is supplying magic, but I feel like I've been beaten by a demented Bludger for twelve hours!"
Harry nodded – he too felt bruised and achy all over, drained as if he had been physically lifting the great stones that made up Hogwarts rather than channeling his magical energy into the new wards being set about the school.
Hermione huffed, taking a moment to drink from her own mug before replying to the redhead's complaints. "Magic is a part of you. Exercising it the way we have been all day is bound to take a toll, Ron." Her voice was unusually subdued and Harry looked over at her, recognizing the fatigue on her face.
"'Mione's got it worse than we do, mate," he said, tone sympathetic. "She's got to actually set the wards – all we've got to do is supply the power." Struck by a bit of inspired amusement, he added, "We're just the batteries – she's the one doing all the work."
"Oh bugger." Ron's face twisted in a grimace. "Don't batteries die?" The redhead's expression turned mulish as the other two snorted laughter into their cups.
"Only when they run out of power."
"Which neither of you will do," Hermione added. Her lips twitched. "You'll pass out before your magical core gets too low." Harry snickered with her, tiredness making things funnier than they actually were – like the scowl on Ron's face.
"You think you're so clever, don't you?" he grumbled and drank the rest of his butterbeer. Like magic – because it was – another appeared in front of him. A few moments later, as Harry and Hermione struggled to get their snickers under control, food joined the drinks on their table – suddenly ravenous, the three friends put aside their conversation to eat. Silence reigned – at least, as much as silence can reign at any particular table in a crowded pub.
The first to break it was Harry, who – having taken the edge off his hunger – looked at the other too and chuckled helplessly. Hermione glanced up, a bite of food puffing out one cheek, while Ron's gaze remained fixed on place, apparently unwilling to join in whatever joke his best mate had come up with now. The two reactions just added to Harry's amusement and he continued to quietly laugh. Curiosity got the better of Hermione, whose lips were twitching upward as she swallowed.
"What is it Harry?"
It took a moment for the black-haired wizard to articulate the thought that inspired his chortling. "I just… it's just funny. We're all sitting here, scarfing down food like we're starving – and just a few months ago, we really were. And it's just… funny." Another almost involuntary snigger slipped out. Really, it wasn't funny – it wasn't funny at all – but it was one of those times where the contrast happened to be too much and the only thing to do was laugh. Because the other option was to cry and that… that was unacceptable.
Less than a second passed before Hermione started to giggle, covering her mouth as if trying to hold back, at which time Ron finally looked up again from his (very late) dinner.
"You've both gone mental," he said very seriously – that set Hermione off even more, as she snorted and let out a quick, sharp laugh before slapping her hand back over her mouth, mortified. The embarrassment was short-lived though – the snort had cracked Ron, the redhead's mouth curving up into a smile despite his efforts. The sight of it was like permission, and the two others began to laugh in earnest. Soon enough all three were engaged in various expressions of mirth, laughing until they could hardly breathe.
Like all highs, it passed, but the smiles remained on their faces.
"We're going to change the world," Harry said, gaze moving between his two best friends. "We're going to make it better."
"We're going to make it so that things like this never happen again," Hermione added, her eyes conveying a wealth of emotion though her lips still smiled. She reached out and took Harry's hand, turning her head as she held out her other to Ron.
"Changing the world is all well and good," he said, "but can I at least finish my supper?"
The other two dissolved into laughter again. "What?" Ron objected. "That's bound to take a lot of energy! We'll need to make sure we eat right if we're taking on big goals like that."
Harry and Hermione kept laughing, the witch waving her hand emphatically for the redhead to take – finally he did, grinning back at them. "We're not going to start tomorrow, are we?" he asked. "I mean, we've already got a full schedule, what with having to fix up the wards and all."
Hermione rolled her eyes while Harry threw a chip at Ron, who ducked out of the way and threw one back. "Of course not," she answered.
"But soon," Harry said. "We'll start soon."
A/N: The chopped liver likes reviews. But, since it's chopped liver, you may do as you please.