It's an odd thing, to see the Boy Who Lived and the matriarch of the Weasley family united and almost identically stoic in expression and bearing, but when the full circumstances are taken into account, really not all that unexpected.
Ginny and Charlie are parallel to one another, horizontal to the ground, and with the former holding a spare broom in one hand while the both maintain a tenuous grip on the broom beneath them.
Tucking her shirt tail into her shorts, Ginny sends the duo a wink before nodding once at Charlie. Molly scowls at her son, "If you break your arm I'm not writing an excuse to the reserve that's less embarrassing."
"I'll write my own, Mum," Charlie answers back,
"I don't think the question is if Molly," Harry grumbles as both siblings fly slightly higher.
George is lounged a few feet away in an obnoxiously pink lawn chair complete with attached umbrella to keep the summer rays off his pale skin. "If we add a ring of fire you two could make me a pretty penny - and broken bones add to the danger if you don't mind it."
"So what if I break my arm," Charlie answers, cocky, "I'm still doing it."
"You are talking to a Harpy and a man who works on a dragon reserve," Ginny reasons, wriggling so her weight is entirely on the balls of her feet.
Harry sighs and drops his head into his hand, earning an eye roll from Ginny, "Don't be so judge-y sir, you once flew an enchanted car to Hogwarts."
Barking out a laugh, George raises his sunglasses and grins at Harry, "I never thought I'd say this, but I can't wait for you two to have kids."
