Disclaimer: Alas, my attempts at conquering all that is Harry Potter have failed. Enjoy this while I wallow in my misery.

(Sorry for the wait; I was distracted by actual books. I know - it's rather ridiculous)

It was times like these when the Weasley home was most welcoming, most relaxed. The typical chaos of the brood momentarily subsided and made way for a cool, conversational atmosphere. Mr. Weasley had arrived home only minutes ago. Setting his hat and cloak aside, he had settled comfortably into the living room and began chatting with Ron about his trying day at work. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were rushing around the kitchen as if the world were on the brink of destruction. Spoons stirred casseroles tirelessly as the two witches pointed their wands in every direction. Hermione was content to watch the aging Mrs. Weasley, who still had not lost even an ounce of her vivacious spirit, working quickly in her element. Ginny had years of experience and was able to keep up quite impressively.

A loud explosion from upstairs interrupted the placid mood. Everybody's head instantly snapped toward the stairs, looking for smoke, fire or any other indication that they could be in some sort of mortal peril. Upon finding no such warnings, Mrs. Weasley began muttering under breath and shaking her head in obvious annoyance.

"Arthur!" She shouted with an obvious edge to her voice. "Do something about them."

Anyone having met Fred and George Weasley for more than a second would have easily understood exactly to what she was referring. Mr. Weasley was no exception. He rose slowly from his comfortable seat near the hearth and made his way to the twins' room.

"Hermione, be a dear and tell Ron to set the table," Mrs. Weasley instructed once she was satisfied that her husband was handling the problem.

"Alright," the girl responded brightly. She slid easily off her stool and made her way into the next room.

Ron was sprawled out over an oversized chair in the corner. One leg was propped atop the chipped coffee table while the other stretched across the narrow walkway. His head rested lazily in his hand, likely exhausted from his strenuous practice session. Upon hearing the floorboards voice their loud protests beneath Hermione's feet, he somehow found the energy to crack one eye open. Glancing to the doorway, he found his friend smiling in amusement at his lethargic state.

"Hey," he croaked, sitting up with as much attentiveness as he could muster. "What's going on?"

"Your mother wants you to set the table," she informed him.

"Great," he groaned. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair before rising at last.

"I'll help if you want," Hermione offered kindly.

"I think I can handle it," Ron grinned wearily. "Magic and all that."

"Oh, shut up," Hermione fought the urge to stick her tongue at him like a small child. Ron simply laughed at her annoyance.

With a flick of his wand, Ron summoned six place settings before collapsing into the closest seat. Hermione settled herself next to him.

"When's Harry coming?" She asked. It had been her assumption that he would be arriving the same day she had. However, there was no sign that he would be arriving soon and not a word had been said of it.

"Tomorrow," Ron said. "He's been staying with Lupin for a few weeks."

"I bet he's enjoying that," Hermione was recalling the horrible stories Harry had told of his aunt and uncle. She was glad he had found a real family in Remus Lupin.

"Yeah, probably," Ron agreed with a small smile. "Even though Tonks has been a bit of distraction for dear old Lupin."

"Oh stop it," Hermione pushed him away good-humoredly. "I think it's sweet."

"Oh yes, it's simply adorable," Ron played along with a hearty chortle.

"You are so immature Ronald," she wished desperately that she could hide the wide grin that had crossed her face.

"Well, I do try," he drew himself up with pride before breaking into laughter.

As the two were laughing, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny came bustling in with a long line of dishes floating behind their raised wand. The steaming plates of food quickly found their proper places on the long table. With a loud holler from Molly, the twins and Mr. Weasley came storming down the stairs. The family found their seats in a rush, anxious to delve into the delectable meal before them.

Soon, they were all heaping food onto their plates. For some unfathomable reason, meals at the Weasley's always seemed to entail an almost deafening volume level. The fact that they were all with reaching distance of one another was irrelevant; shouting and yelling overtook normal speaking voices within seconds.

Hermione, sitting between Ron and Ginny, munched on a warm roll. Ron seemed determine to learn exactly how much food he would have to eat before his organs were forced to implode. It was very serious business, this journey towards implosion. There was little conversation while he ate, at least that which involved coherent speech. Having given up on diverting his attention from his mountain of food, Hermione amused herself by talking with Ginny about every trivial concern that a teenaged girl would have.

They ate and ate until not even Ron could gather the willpower to eat another bite. The table was cleared with a simple swish and flick of Mrs. Weasley's wand. Still, the party remained seated, talking and laughing for a very long while. Mr. Weasley spent the time questioning Hermione about the perplexing inner workings of an "airplane." Meanwhile, Ginny and Ron were getting into a rather loud (as are all things involving this particular red-headed family) argument about something involving Quidditch. Mrs. Weasley had taken to lecturing Fred and George about the future consequences of blowing up any portion of the house. The twins assumed an appearance of such innocence that any passing stranger would be slow to believe the mischievous schemes they so often concocted.

The conversation eventually quieted to a dull roar. There was no avoiding the drowsiness that suddenly coursed through their veins, causing jaw-cracking yawns and drooping eyes. Ron was all but snoring, and Hermione wondered briefly if crashing to the floor would be terribly painful.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley suddenly rose. The sleepy blanket that had drifted over them was barely lifted, though. "I suppose it's time we all made our way to bed."

Groggy mumblings and sleepy nods were the only responses she received.

Hermione trudged up the stairs, surprised by how much she ached with tiredness. Ron was not moving much faster than she, nor was Ginny or anybody else for that matter. With a quick goodnight to the rest of the family, Hermione slipped into Ginny's room. She changed into her soft pajamas and then wondered to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Returning to the bedroom, she instantly crashed onto the mattress. She was asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

A/N: I really love this chapter. I'm not exactly sure why, but I'm very happy with how it turned out. The elusive Harry Potter will actuallybe arriving in the next chapter (I promise).The Hermione/Ron "get together" won't be happening fora few chapters, but I'm already looking forward to it. Please leave a review; they've really made me keep writing. I'm glad you're all enjoying the story so far, and I hope it only gets better. Feel free to leave suggestions, as well. Although, I won't complain if you insist on showering me with praise. ;-)