AN: Hello Again, readers! Thanks for reading, and I'd be even more thankful if you reviewed. Enjoy the chapter. Oh, and by the way, in this I call George a teenager. I'm not sure if he is at this point, but oh well, you know what I mean.
"I want you out of the house – all of you," Mrs Weasley looked at the group of teenagers, all looking tired and pale, each wearing expressions showing varying levels of forlornness.
"Mum can't we just –" Ginny started, but Mrs Weasley cut her off.
"I don't want to hear it," she waved her hand dismissively, "None of you have been out of the house in days, and you all look to need some sun." It was true. Days had dragged by since the funeral and not one of them had so much stepped out of the front door. "Anyway," she continued, choosing to ignore Ron's irritated mumbling, "I've got cleaning to get on with, and you'll just be getting in the way. Come on, it's a lovely day," she smiled cheerfully, gesturing to the window. The sunlight was indeed streaming through the window with more brightness than usual, as if someone had turned up the intensity. Even the grass seemed to have swapped its rather dull colouring for a perkier shade of jade. "Why not take your brooms?" Mrs Weasley went on, evidently hoping for some enthusiasm, "Ron, you've still got your old one, you can lend that to Hermione. Oh, you can make a day out of it..." Taking out her wand, she gave it a flick, and a large wicker picnic basket appeared, landing with a thump on the kitchen table, which creaked nervously. "Oh don't look so miserable! You all need a bit of fun. Go and get the brooms Ron, there's a dear. Right, off you go, I'll just – pack!" Another wand flourish, and food began to zoom out of cupboards, falling neatly into the basket. A few seconds later, a large bottle of Butterbeer followed which apparently forgot to move at the same time as the other supplies. Mrs Weasley stuffed a red and yellow checked blanket into the already full basket, slamming down the flap that acted as a lid to prevent the tightly squashed contents from spilling out. Unenthusiastically, Hermione picked up the basket, almost dropping it as she underestimated the weight. With that, Mrs Weasley shooed them out of the back door.
"Good bye, yes come back before it gets to dark. Try to smile, Ginny dear. Okay, bye-bye!" With one final wave, Mrs Weasley shut the door behind them, then leant against the wall, mopping her brow with the back of her hand. With a sigh of exhaustion laced with relief, she untucked a duster from her apron and headed to the living room.
They trudged towards the orchard behind the Burrow, barely speaking. The silence was only punctuated by Ron's loud and heated swearing when he tripped over, falling flat on his face. Once they had reached the trees, Hermione dropped the large picnic basket on the soft earth and sat down beside it. From the small beaded bag she had brought along, Hermione (with some difficulty) retrieved a fat brown book, the cover embossed with a series of gold, complex looking runes.
"Hey Hermione, I thought we were, you know, flying?" Ron said, gesturing to George, Ginny and Harry who had their brooms on their shoulders. Hermione, however, had already begun to read, tracing the text with her finger.
"Oh no, not for me," she wrinkled her nose, tearing her eyes away from her reading, "You can all play Quidditch, but I'd much rather read." With a nonchalant shrug, she added "I'm hopeless at flying anyway – we'll all be better off if I keep myself firmly on the ground. In any case, that's where I'd rather be." Determined for that to be the final word, she turned her gaze back to the book.
"Lugged this up here for nothing then," Ron grumbled, tossing his old Shooting Star towards Hermione, who squealed and shifted swiftly to avoid. Shooting a glare at Ron, she returned to the text she had been reading.
"Shut up, Ron," Harry said, with no real bitterness to his tone, "It's not a big deal. We don't have enough for teams really, so we could just practice instead of playing a game?" He looked to Ginny for an opinion, which she quickly returned.
"Yeah," she agreed, nodding, "We'll throw apples like we used to." On cue, Hermione flicked her wand at the tree she was sitting by, and four shiny, light green apples fell into her lap. She threw them at Ginny. Ginny shoved two apples into her pockets, tossed one at Harry and kept one in her hand. Behind her, George made an attempt to sulk off behind a tree, but Ginny pulled him back by the t-shirt.
"Come on, Georgie," Ginny said with an encouraging smile, "You love flying!"
"We would've preferred not to be here either, mate," Ron interjected, "But since Mum's kicked us out, we might as well have a bit of fun." Harry and Ginny nodded.
"Fine," George muttered sulkily, mounting his broom. The others followed suit, and they all took off.
They flew for at least two hours, throwing the apples for each other to catch. Despite his earlier grumpiness, George's mood lifted as they played, so that he laughed with the others.
"Can we start the picnic now?" Hermione called up at them eyeing the basket. She had stored the chunky book away in her bag. As the others descended through the air towards her, Hermione took out her wand, and tapped the picnic basket to no reaction.
"Ahem," she said, tapping it again, a little harder this time. As her wand tip left contact with the wicker flap, it sprang open, the checked blanket zooming out and spreading itself neatly on the ground, followed by the rest of the basket's contents. Ginny, Harry, Ron and George had all reached the ground at this point, and they sat down by the blanket as the last of the food sped towards them. Greedily, Ron began loading his plate with everything he could reach.
"Hungry, Ron?" Ginny grinned, as he grabbed a sausage roll.
"Just don't want to waste it," he replied, dropping a chicken leg onto his plate. Seemingly satisfied with the volume of food in front of him, he picked up a sandwich and sniffed it suspiciously.
"Is this corned beef?" he asked, wrinkling his nose.
"Jam," George piped up, his mouth full of cheese. Of the whole group Mrs Weasley had evicted, he had benefitted most from the day out of the house. Being in the fresh air and flying his broom had reminded him of what he enjoyed doing. For a few moments, the only sounds were those of chewing and swallowing.
"Treacle tart!" Harry broke the silence, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his favourite dessert. Giggling, Ginny passed him a slice, and then took one for herself.
Plates were soon empty and the five of them were soon full. The only proof that there had been a picnic was a few crumbs and a Butterbeer spillage. Ron had eaten a considerably overlarge helping, and was looking slightly sick as a result.
"Too much apple pie..."he mumbled, rubbing his stomach. With the basket packed with dirty plates and empty Butterbeer bottles, they set off back down the hill towards the Burrow. Laughing, smiling, and feeling content, Ginny's optimism perked up a little. Someone had added some wood to her fire, and her hope burned a little brighter than before.
