Somehow, another couple days flew by, and then it was time for weekly dinner with Ron and Harry. The friends had wanted a reasonable amount of space to develop their own lives after the war, and had settled on once a week dinner for the purpose of touching base. Now that they were older and more comfortable with their independent lives and how they interacted, the tradition had continued. Tonight was stir-fry night, and Harry was hosting.

"Harry, did you end up landing that large commission piece for that Iranian potions master?"

"Yeah, actually I did. It was sort of a tough sell since he wanted me to prove I could incorporate some Middle Eastern cultural symbols and designs into the piece. But I made him some demo pieces that he loved, and that was that. He wants it for New Years, so that probably means I can't take on any more projects for the next few weeks."

Hermione went to the fridge to look for a drink.

"Harry, do you only drink blonde beers?"

"Sorry, 'Mione, I think there's some Guiness or a stout of some sort somewhere in the back. Could you get me a blonde though?"

"Grab me one of those stouts if you find one, love."

"'Love' is it? Whenever you want something Ronald, dear," Hermione noted as she popped open the bottles.

"You're always my love, but a gentle reminder, occasionally—"

Hermione swatted Ron and they all cracked up. They drifted into a comfortable silence, leaning on the counters, sipping their beers and enjoying the lovely smells wafting from Harry's frying pan and listening to the Bavarian Bards.

"Are we really almost 30? I feel like we're still at Hogwarts," Harry said quietly, shaking his head.

"Don't say almost 30, Harry, that makes the situation sound much more dire than it is."

"Mate, sometimes I wake up and think I slept through my potions exam. Some stuff you don't outgrow."

"Really? Your most memorable and traumatizing moments from our teenage years were the exams? Honestly, Ronald. That's the part I miss the most!"

"'Course, cause you're Hermione Granger and I'm Ron Weasley."

"Harry, tell Ron he's being ridiculous."

"Ron, you're being ridiculous."

"Thank you—"

"Trelawaney's class was way more of a waking nightmare than potions."

"Harry! …wait, no, I don't disagree with you."

"Thank you, Harry. I wonder what old Trelawaney's up to these days. Strange bat, that one. Let's hope she didn't actually make any more legitimate prophecies. I think I had a lifetime's worth… per prophecy…"

"I wonder if she saw Harry's prosperous future in woodworking."

"Probably not. Ron's expertise in wand work, though. Should've seen that miles away."

"Yeah, I—hey. Are you making a joke? Hermione, did Harry just make fun of me in some way."

"Woodworking and wand work. Nope, I see absolutely no joke possibly being made here."

"Uhm…"

Hermione set the table as Harry wrapped up the stir-fry with sesame seeds and peanuts. Ron belatedly tossed the dessert pudding that Molly had made for them into the freezer, hoping it would chill before they were done eating. They were silent for a while as they indulged in the food. Ron in particular always looked ravenous for the first few bites of any meal.

"Since Harry brought it up, how's it going in that department for you lot?"

"Mmm. Vix and I have been talking about her moving in with me."

"Really? Ron, that's wonderful! And a huge step, but it seems about time for you two. I mean, she is practically living with you now."

"That's what we figured. But you know. Practically living together and actually living together is different. You don't actually have a different place to be if you do want space, so I don't know. Mum probably won't approve but she handled Fleur and everybody else, so I'm sure she'll be ok with this."

"Honestly, that woman raised Fred and George, you have to give her more credit for adaptability."

Ron grinned at that.

"You're absolutely right. Vix is beautiful and clever and compassionate loved by every Weasley in a 100 km radius of her. Plus, I assume that living together means never sleeping or showering alone again, so I'm sold."

"Ugh, please Ron, I'm eating. What about you, Harry?"

"I'm formally giving up faith in the gay wizarding community?"

"Oh come now, surely it isn't that bad?"

"Trust me. It is. Dean and Seamus are so lucky that it worked out the way it did for them."

"How do you figure that?"

"Don't get me wrong, there is plenty of dancing, partying, and sex with really beautiful men to be had. But most gay men treat settling down in any sense like it's an STD to avoid catching from any given partner. It sort of wears on you after a time, you know? I'm not saying I'm trying to get married, but a few dates? Maybe a relationship, if we're getting real ambitious?"

"Maybe you could try the muggle world?"

"See, I've thought about doing that. New dating pool. But I just can't imagine ever getting into a serious relationship with someone who doesn't know our history and wars and such… it's perfectly fine for casual stuff. The scene in muggle London is definitely better, but I don't know. Maybe I need a year in Italy or something to scout out a new wizarding batch."

"That sounds like a great idea actually. Take 'Mione with you. The only eligible bachelor she's seen recently has been… Percy," Ron shuddered.

"I resent that. I get out and about plenty, thank you."

"Yeah? Do tell."

"Ginny and I went to this club last Saturday night. You know, the new one near Knockturn Alley?"

"Hermione? When you tell this story, kindly leave out my sister's adventures from the night, will you?"

"Sure, Ron. Though Ginny is a grown woman and I don't know what your problem is. You've been stressing about her interaction with men since we were 12, and women since we were 17. She's got her head on straight, even if nothing else about her is, and you might as well get used to that."

"Ugh, Hermione…"

"Ok, ok, fine. Anyways, went to club, met a lovely someone, chatted and had a good time, and went home with him."

Harry laughed as Ron goggled at her. Then he turned to Harry.

"Honestly mate, at what age was it that Hermione started going to parties and going home with 'lovely' men, and we're sitting at home all boring like?"

"I think that started around when we were 23, Ron. Just an estimation. But anyways Hermione, tell us all the sordid details."

"I… don't even remember his name—"

Ron made a sound like a deflated balloon.

"Honestly, Ron…"