Author's note: Well! My recent chapters have attracted quite a bit of negative attention, which I was definitely not expecting but will take in stride. I apologize; I attempted to try something new, and clearly it did not work out, so I will make an effort to respond to your feedback. I have incorporated the previous version of chapter fourteen into the beginning of this chapter, which makes for a longer chapter - longer chapters mean longer waits but if you're all game for that, I am wholly agreeable. I hope you all find this chapter more satisfactory. As always, review, follow, favorite. Much love!

Update: In light of some recent criticisms, I've redone what was previously chapter fifteen and turned it into chapter fourteen. Sorry for the hassle. I do hope you are all understanding of - and sympathetic to - the fact that I am but a 16 year old girl who loves to write. I don't pretend that the world I create for my characters is entirely realistic; details are bound to be vague and inaccuracies will inevitably occur. If I was intending to publish this (as if! I wish I was that talented of a writer) I would go far more in depth with research and making sure everything is perfect.

x

Chapter Fourteen: The Party

"Harry just called," Hermione announced, striding into the bathroom and reaching for her toothbrush. "He wants us to come."

Ginny, who was in the middle of washing her hands, froze. "What? Shit." She flinched.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just let the water run too long and scalded myself a bit." Drying off, she tried to calm herself. "Did he say we had to?"

Mouth full of toothpaste, Hermione explained, "He just said Charlie's down in the dumps because of this whole Audrey-Percy business and would love some more company."

"And my other brothers aren't enough because...?"

"He likes you, Ginny! You're his little sister," said Hermione, spitting into the sink and wiping her mouth off. "You know how it is. You and Bill are, like, friendly and civil, but Charlie is the big brother we all want, the one who's protective and sweet."

"Who tames lions in his spare time."

"Well, you know." She shrugged. "Details."

Ginny gave a quick smile. "Um, did you talk to Ron about it?"

"Yeah, he's going and we're invited to come along."

"I'm assuming that the invite doesn't extend to Dean?"

"Well, no."

"Figures." She could not decide how she felt about this exclusion. "When does Ron leave?"

Hermione consulted her watch. "An hour and a half."

"Hermione!" she yelped. "That's - that's only 90 minutes! I can't - I need time to think about this."

Her friend raised an eyebrow. "The party's tomorrow. It's a good five hours up there. We're not going to get there until after dinner at this rate."

"I refuse to drop everything and run because Harry wants us to."

"Ginny! Do you realize how self centered you're coming across right now? This isn't all about Harry, this is about family, and if you're so worked up about this just talk to him! I get that it's a big deal but you've got to get it together. Honestly. It's not because he wants us to, it's because Charlie, and everyone else, misses you."

"I haven't told Dean yet!"

"I have yet to grasp the connection between that and traveling back to see your family, who you ditched, for your twin brothers' birthday."

"There's no connection, dammit!" She sunk to the bathroom floor. Hermione stood above her, exasperated. "I just don't think I could handle it. I couldn't. Going back and seeing him? He's going to be all weird, and I'm going to feel weird, and Mum's a lot more observant than she lets on, and the last thing I need is an good ol' Weasley-style interrogation right now."

Hermione sat cross-legged next to her. "Listen. I know Harry kind of well, too, if a decade or so of friendship counts, and I know he'll be cool. And if he isn't, that doesn't mean he's not making a valiant attempt to be." Silence. "Okay. That's not very reassuring. Rewinding. He'll be fine. You can handle one night."

"Do you really think so?" asked Ginny bleakly. "Things are going so well with Dean, I just can't handle it if something happens and -"

"You have to trust Harry a little bit," Hermione said sharply. "He's not going to make a move on you."

"Oh my god, have you talked to him?"

"No, he won't return my calls."

Ginny whacked her in the shoulder. "What have we discussed about boundaries and not getting overly involved in other people's social situations?"

"This is important!" Quelling under her flatmate's fierce glare, Hermione said meekly, "I'm sorry. I won't try to interfere again."

"Thank you." Ginny crossed her arms, huffing.

"Right. I'm going to go pack. Ron's picking me up soon. You can come along if you wish."

"God dammit, Hermione!" Ginny called down the hallway. "You're insufferable!" Groaning in frustration, she got up and went to her room, grabbing an overnight bag on the way.

xxx

"Draco! We're leaving!" Narcissa buttoned up the front of her jacket.

"Coming." He grabbed his shoes. "Where are we going again?"

"Family therapy."

"Do we have to?"

"Yes. It's in the prison, and highly recommended for families who are healing from abuse."

"'Healing'? We aren't 'healing,'" Draco started bitterly. "They're forcing us to, against our will, I might add, and frankly -"

"Darling, please."

"Sorry."

She pressed her lips together in a small, very sad smile. "It's alright. Let's do this."

He followed her out, mentally bracing himself.

Healing, he scoffed, fiddling with the window switch. There were a lot of things that his almost comically dysfunctional family could do, and healing was definitely not in the top 50. In fact, he was fairly certain that "healing" from their history was at number 100, if it made the list at all.

A pile of paperwork and, in his opinion, rude questions later and he was twiddling his thumbs, shifting awkwardly in a scratchy waiting room chair. Narcissa was signing off on about fifty thousand agreements and waivers saying that she wouldn't sue the institution if her husband went bonkers and tried to strangle her, or some rubbish of the sort.

"How long have you been waiting?" he finally blurted out to the general population. Everyone ignored him, except a slender young woman three seats down.

"It's usually an hour the first day," she said quietly, so quietly that he could barely hear her.

"Really?"

She nodded. Her mouth was drawn into a straight line. "It's a bit of a hassle."

"Does this help?"

"It takes a long time."

"But does it help?"

She seemed unable to look him in the eye. "I think so, yes."

"How long have you been coming here?"

"A year and a half."

"Are you serious?"

She nodded meekly. "It's not bad."

"I know, but - blimey - 18 months of this?"

"It takes time."

"Right."

They both fell silent, caught up in their own thoughts. He noticed that she had a strange habit of running her left thumb across the knuckles of her right hand, over and over. Before he could try to make more conversation, however, a man with a clipboard entered and said crisply, "Astoria? Are you ready?"

"Yes," she murmured, and drifted past Draco. He crossed and uncrossed and recrossed his legs and coughed and scratched his head until he thought he might implode.

"It takes time," he whispered to himself, turning the phrase over and over in his head, as if he was in grade school and the teacher had just given out a particularly tricky maths problem. "It takes time."

xxx

"Is everything okay?" Ron asked concernedly. Hermione cocked an eyebrow at Ginny in the left wing mirror.

"Fine," said Ginny shortly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Hermione?"

"Ginny's just a little, you know, nervous."

"About?"

"Er - she really wants - oh, for god's sake, Ginny, just tell him!"

"What? No!"

"He's his best friend -"

"Wait, does this have to do with Harry?"

"NO!" shouted Ginny fiercely.

"Did he bitch at you? He's been in a bitchy mood lately. I can have a talk with him."

"No, nothing happened. I have to use the loo. Can you take this exit?"

"We're running late -"

"Ron! Just effing pull over!"

"So you can have a mental breakdown by the side of the road?"

"You're horrible -"

"Guys!" yelled Hermione. "Calm down. Ron, keep driving. Ginny, I'm sorry that I pushed you too much. You've just got to -"

"Hermione? Sidebar."

"What, in the car?"

"I can listen to music," Ron offered helpfully.

"Shut up," snapped Ginny. "Text me."

"Okay."

why?!

I'm sorry. ~H. Granger

do u have any idea how awk this is going to be?

Give Harry some credit! He's an adult, and you are too. Time to start acting like one. ~H. Granger

we /kissed/, hermione. it's not like oh whatever i just snogged my brother's best friend no big deal it's totally fine and normal and now i'm going to a party w him. this is serious shit!

Yeah, but you have to pull it together. If you don't want your mum to be on your arse about it, you've got to figure out a way to act normal. ~H. Granger

i don't know

You can do it. And yeah, maybe it'll be awkward. It will definitely be awkward. But I believe in you and I honestly think that the more time you spend in normal situations with/around Harry, the less awkward it will get. Give it time. ~H. Granger

time heals all wounds, right?

Exactly. ~H. Granger

& these things take time?

Yes. ~H. Granger

but hermione i like dean so effing much!

Irrelevant. ~H. Granger

i used to be the cool confident girl who had it all together u know? & idk what happened, but all of a sudden i don't have it all together, not even a smidgen. that sucks.

We all lose our confidence from time to time. ~H. Granger

idk.

It takes time. ~H. Granger

so u rly think it'll be ok?

Absolutely. Now apologize to Ron. ~H. Granger

Ginny heaved a sigh and tossed her mobile to the side, atop a stack of tabloids. "Ron?"

"What?"

"I'm - I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"Really?"

"You owe me."

"Fair enough."

The conversation shifted, courtesy of a tactful remark on Hermione's behalf regarding the weather, and they were pulling up into the over-crowded driveway soon enough.

"They're here!" shouted Charlie, leaping through the doorway and hugging Ginny before she could reach for her bag. "Thanks for coming," he said.

"No problem," she muttered, eyes flickering towards the house.

"How are preparations?" asked Hermione briskly, extracting Ron's suitcase from the boot and passing it to him. "All done?"

"Yep. We're about to sit down for a low-key dinner. The twins have been holed up in their room all day, though luckily we didn't hear a single explosion."

"You never know, with them," Ron pointed out thoughtfully.

Charlie chuckled. "Come on, then."

They stepped across the threshold. Voices echoed from the kitchen and dining room. The scraping sound of silverware and plates clinking together as someone, probably Fleur and Audrey, set the table were both comforting and disconcerting to Ginny, who felt somewhat as if everything had suddenly changed.

"Harry! They're here," she heard Charlie announce, and her heart began racing. Ron strode confidently into the other room, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her along with him. This left Ginny standing rather alone, lost in her own house.

"Hermione!" cried Mrs. Weasley, and Hermione's "Lovely to see you again" was muffled against her apron.

A round of greetings came next; Ginny suspected that they were unlikely to miss her for some time. This was the advantage of being in a large family. She sat down shakily on the couch and crossed her arms, idly tracing the contours of her phone case.

"Ginny?"

She yelped, jumping up, then felt immensely relieved to see that it was just Fred.

"You okay?"

"I - no."

"Oi, what's this?" asked George, joining his brother. "You okay?"

"No," said Ginny miserably.

"What's wrong?" The twins perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing their sister.

"If I tell you, you have to swear not to tell."

"Promise," they said solemnly.

"Are you sure?"

"We're sure. Does Hermione know what's going on?"

"Of course."

"Ron?"

"Never."

"Harry?"

She froze.

"Blimey, it's about him, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"What happened?"

She took a deep, shuddery breath, and was on the verge of blurting it out, her stupid little mistake seconds from being exposed, when Harry walked in. He only saw the twins, as the sofa's back was high enough to conceal her head, and said casually, "Dinner's almost ready, your mum says you're allowed to come in now."

"Oh, okay," said George, raising his eyebrows urgently at Ginny.

"Did you see Ginny, by any chance?" Harry added, and if it were not for the years of knowing him, Ginny would never have noticed the tightening in his voice. Unfortunately for both of them, she had him well memorized by now, and she clenched her jaw as Fred said,

"Actually, she's right here."

Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she collected herself enough to turn around and wave weakly at the black-haired lad. "Hi," she said.

"Hey." He gave a restrained head nod, then addressed the twins, "Anyway, you'd best hurry up."

"Right. Coming, sis?"

"Yes," was all she could muster, and followed her brothers into the warmth and brightness of the kitchen. If Harry was going to be mature and civil, well, then so could she. Definitely. Without a doubt.

Hermione grabbed her hand as she passed by, squeezed it, and mouthed, It will be okay. Ginny tried fervently to believe this. Harry, for his part, carefully avoided associating with her - easy to do, given the large number of current inhabitants. It seemed to Ginny that their house's population was on an exponential growth curve.

Ron was beaming at Hermione half the time, taking every opportunity to make physical contact with her; she blushed and stammered responses like a schoolgirl speaking with her crush. Ginny, glancing at Harry, thought there was some sort of longing concealed behind those emerald eyes. Before she could analyze this suspicion, he said, "How was the journey?"

"Not bad." Ron passed him the plate of cheese and crackers. "A spot of traffic in the beginning."

"Yeah, rush hour can be tough. Sorry I reached you so late."

"It's fine, mate. Next time you should call Ginny, she's the one who's always on her phone."

Ginny choked. She retreated until she could breathe again and re-entered the conversation wheezing slightly. Pull it together, Weasley. My god, you're an effing mess.

"...we've got a kickass party planned, if I do say so myself," Charlie was saying, having joined them while Ginny was indisposed. "Harry'll fill you lot in on the details later tonight."

"Great," said Hermione. "We're really glad we could make it."

"Me too."

"Dinner smells good," Ginny said. Harry walked off to help Mrs. Weasley with a platter of chicken wings.

"Er - yeah." Charlie cocked his head at her. Sodding brothers. They'd grown up accustomed to her "moods," as they called them - the twins used this term interchangeably with "estrogen poisoning" - and therefore were inconveniently tuned into her emotional state.

"I'm fine," she snapped before he could say anything, and went to the dining room.

"Oh, Ginny, dear, we had to move around the seating a bit to accommodate everyone," Mrs. Weasley piped up as she headed for her normal spot between Charlie and Hermione. "You're next to Harry now."

And, admittedly, the only thing that flashed across Ginny's mind as she dragged her feet in Harry's direction was a particularly strong four-letter word.

xxx

Harry, understandably, had a great deal of difficulty falling asleep that night. He wanted more than anything to talk to Hermione, but correctly assumed that Ginny had spilled the details, thereby claiming her flatmate as confidante. This left Ron. Harry stared dubiously at the ginger as he flopped over, mumbled something, and rearranged his body into a baffling knot of limbs and bedclothes.

"I kissed Ginny," Harry said quietly into the dark.

He was moderately certain about how his best friend would respond. "This is treason, Harry, effing treason!" "How could you? You could have any bloody girl in the world and you choose my sister?" "I can't believe you would do this..."

No, that was no use. Running a hand through his mop of black curls, Harry sighed and took his glasses off, placing them in a heavy duty glasses case and depositing them in a oak drawer. The twins had been appropriately apologetic about the "specs incident" but he was not about to take any chances.

A list, scrawled across a battered legal pad in Charlie's messy handwriting, was still resting in his left hand. Forcing his thoughts back to the party, Harry shut his eyes and began mentally checking off items.

LED lights, assorted colors. Check. Plastic/paper tableware. Check. Streamers. Check. Silly string. Check. Noisemakers. Check. 4.5-volt batteries. Dangerous, but check...

xxx

The alarm on Ron's phone went off at half past five. Harry jolted awake, and started shaking his friend as he put his glasses on and groped about for a pair of jeans. "We have a party to throw!" he ejaculated, frustration already growing as he realized he'd misplaced his remaining clean shirt. "Ron!"

"Wha - ?" Ron jerked awake. "You - I - oh. That was my alarm, wasn't it?" He yawned and got out of bed.

"Ron?" Harry gritted his teeth, irrationally irritated.

"Yeah, mate?"

"That's my shirt."

Ron glanced down in surprise. "Oh. Sorry. It was dark when I changed last night and then I was, erm, in a bit of a hurry to - well, Hermione -" He stretched his shoulders uncomfortably. "That explains why this felt tight. Here." He unbuttoned the flannel and offered it to Harry, who started to slip into it when his nose wrinkled up.

"Why does this smell like perfume?"

"Come again?" Ron spun around, arms halfway into a gray thermal. "Oh." He turned scarlet. "I might have worn that when -"

"Forget it." Harry balled it up and tossed it in the corner.

"Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah." Harry rooted through his suitcase. "D'you have a shirt I can borrow?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah." He chucked a football jersey across the room. "Might be a little big, though."

"Fine," Harry said tersely.

"Harry?"

"What? Hurry, I reckon your dad and Charlie are already setting up. We had it ready to go last night, but you never know, there might be malfunctions..." He was blabbering, and he knew it, but couldn't manage to stop.

"Harry. Why are you acting like a fifteen year old boy?"

"What?!"

"You're all irritable and jumpy and super PMS-y. Everything okay?"

"Of course."

"Okay." Ron tightened his belt, zipped his fly, and yanked on a pair of mismatching socks.

"Sorry." Harry took some deep breaths. "It's possible that I'm a little tense."

"Did something happen with, um..." Ron would not make eye contact. "Like, in the car, Hermione - Ginny was, like, saying -"

Harry paused, arms thrust halfway into the sleeves of his friend's shirt. "Ginny said something about me?"

"Well, she was like, 'I don't want to tell you,' and Hermione was like, 'He's Ron's best friend,' or something. Is everything - did you get in a fight?"

"No." Harry turned away. "Let's go downstairs."

"Wait." Ron grabbed Harry's elbow as he moved to leave. "Please tell me."

"Why?"

"Look, we've made arses out of ourselves for years now. Point is, it's always been together. You and me, mate, that's what it's all about, yeah? So if you're going to make an arse out of yourself now, well, I reckon you might as well include me in it too." He looked earnestly at Harry. "I won't get mad. Whatever it is, I won't get mad."

This was - this was happening. Okay. Breathe. Harry summoned up all his courage, and said, "I kissed Ginny."

"You what?!"

"I kissed Ginny. Your sister. I -"

"No, I know who she is, I'm not daft - but why? Do you fancy her?"

The fact that Ron hadn't tried to murder him yet was slightly encouraging. He shrugged helplessly. "I dunno anymore. I thought I did, but for the sake of being honest...things are too complicated with her. She's with Dean -"

"Yeah, she has a boyfriend, Harry."

"I know that, I'm not daft either! I know. I'm just saying, I'll always love her because we've grown up together and you know better than anyone how lovable she is. But there just isn't any point in pursuing her now. I'm sorry it happened."

"Don't be sorry," said Ron immediately. "I'm not mad, just confused. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"What, that I had feelings for her?"

He cocked an eyebrow keenly. "Had or have?"

"God, Hermione's influenced you too much. Had. Have. It doesn't make a difference."

"Okay. Well...blimey, mate. I wasn't expecting that one."

"It's okay," said Harry quickly. "We're not dating, nothing's really changed. Things are a bit awkward -"

"She was really worked up in the car," Ron mused, speaking over his best friend. "I mean, I thought maybe you two had had a row. Never would've guessed it would be this kind of situation."

"She was worked up?"

"I haven't seen her that frazzled since eighth grade."

"Oh, the Yule Ball episode."

"Yeah." Ron fell silent, twiddling his thumbs. "Right. So, uh, thanks for telling me. I appreciate it."

"No problem. I thought you might throw a few punches."

Ron grinned. "Nah, I'm saving that one for later."

"Good."

"Word of advice, though, before we enter Pandora's Box." He nodded towards the door, from which they heard hammering and a few minor explosions. "Just act normal. Ginny's bound to act all weird and - not to mince words - bitchy, because that's just how she is. I know she's like this super steady stable person in general, but sometimes that fails. I've seen it happen. Just keep acting normal. She'll - she'll figure it out." He paused, hand on the knob. "So you don't like her?"

"I don't..." Harry picked his words with extreme caution. "I'm not in a position, and neither is she, to start anything like this now. Even if I did fancy her, it's not the right time. Maybe it never will be. It was stupid of me to kiss her. I guess I had to. But now...I think I'll be okay."

"It's never that easy."

"It's not, is it?" Harry bit his lip thoughtfully. "It's over, though."

"Alright." Ron clapped Harry on the back. "Let's go throw a party."

xxx

"Pull the curtains down," hissed Charlie, hand hovering over a massive switch.

"We should've added blackout shades to the list," Ron muttered to Harry and Hermione.

The entire household, sans twins, crouched behind a collection of furniture and presents. Relations had posted gifts to Fred and George, which Molly insisted on checking first to make sure that none of the contents were hazardous.

Harry had yet to see the entire contraption - for that was essentially what this party was: Arthur and Charlie had taken nearly all the supplies collected by the others and somehow compiled them into one entity controlled by a single button.

"Here they come," whispered Bill.

"I have the fire department on speed dial," Mrs. Weasley piped up helpfully for the third time in the past minute.

"Don't worry, Mum," said Ron, though he was gripping Hermione's hand so tightly that she grimaced at Harry.

Footsteps descended the staircase, accompanied by a loud yawn and "Blimey, it's dark in here."

"In three...two...one!"

Harry quite thought that his brain was going to explode. A brilliant golden light streaked through the air and dissipated into sparks. Noisemakers and miniature Rube Goldberg machines created a cacophony that only Fred and George Weasley could appreciate. LED lights flashed a neon "HARRY BIRTHDAY, YOU SODS" (courtesy of Ron and Charlie) and a line of electric candles lit up to illuminate a path; when they walked down it towards their altar of presents, each step produced a piano note.

"If you try breakdancing, you might end up playing a concerto," Bill said, grinning.

The twins, for their part, truly looked like tots on Christmas morning. Their faces were brighter even than the blinding combination of sparklers and torches casting a glow upon the others - and causing black spots to pervade Harry's vision - and they threw themselves at every person they could, clasping hands and whooping wildly.

"I'm so glad you like it!" Audrey yelled. "Does anyone happen to have some sunglasses handy?"

Ginny, always the forward thinker, passed over her own pair. "I've grown up with this, I'm used to it," she said in response to the other woman's protests.

"Yeah, you'll acclimatize soon enough," Percy said, gingerly placing a hand on her arm. Charlie rolled his eyes.

"You're the best!" Fred and George shouted simultaneously.

"We love you!" Hermione yelled back.

"Yes, yes," Fleur concurred. "If it is not too much trouble though, could we be turning zis off soon?"

George nodded graciously at his father. "Hit it, Pop."

"Righto," Arthur said, and unplugged it.

They were momentarily plunged into complete lack of sight. A variety of expletives and exclamations resulted as the aftereffects of such a sensory overload wore off. Ginny felt her way to the windows and drew open the blinds, allowing daylight, refreshingly gentle, into the room.

"Thank you," said Fleur.

"I feel hungover," moaned Ron, clutching a rather amused Hermione.

"Did you like it?" Harry asked the birthday boys presently, after the shock had subsided for the group and they were distributed about the kitchen and living room.

"That's the understatement of the century," Fred said.

"And we haven't even gotten to gifts or food yet," George added gleefully.

"Really?"

"Of course, mate," said Fred. "No, really," he added in an undertone. "You did a bang up job. Almost surpassed my expectations."

"Almost?"

"The lack of untamed tigers and possibly a flying trapeze man brings down your score marginally, but I wouldn't sweat it."

Harry grinned. "Thanks."

He stood by himself for a moment; Charlie was tinkering with a battery pack and was half engaged in a conversation with George and Mr. Weasley, while Ron had his arm round Hermione's waist on the couch as they talked animatedly to Fleur and Audrey. Across the room, he met Ginny's eye.

His breath caught for a split second, and then he nodded slightly at her. She smiled and gave a small wave back before turning to chat with her mother, leaving Harry feeling distinctly satisfied. All was forgiven, or at least tolerated for the time being, and he responded to Bill's "Hell of a party, innit?" with gusto.

xxx

The remainder of the day consisted of games, movies, presents, and a heap of sunglasses on the coffee table. The twins were permitted to fool around with the system as much as they liked, so long as they did not stray past legal gray areas, and Hermione finally went on a quest for protection in the form of industrial ear muffs, the sort used by construction workers.

Harry and Ron were sprawled out on the floor playing chess when Charlie came over.

"You alright?" said Harry, for the man was white as a sheet.

"I think I need to wash out my eyes," Charlie said. "Anyone have some carbolic acid?"

"What happened?" He idly toyed with a rook and ignored Ron's impatiently tapping foot.

"I just stumbled upon - Percy and Audrey snogged. I saw - I didn't mean to - Percy'd left a monstrous 'confidential' folder down here and I was going to his room and - I -"

"Oh my god." Ron's mouth gaped open. "He what?"

"Does he know you saw?" Harry was not a horrified as Ron - he'd seen the two of them hit it off, and had suspected an outcome such as this one - but felt badly for Charlie; he thought rather critically that Audrey had led him on.

"Dunno, I made a strangled noise and fled."

"Did you like her?" The three men yelped. Hermione stood there, arms crossed, and casually planted herself between Ron and his brother.

"Eavesdrop much?" said Harry.

Brushing this aside, she asked briskly, "Did you like her?"

"Yeah, I did. I do. I mean, she's really - she's really outgoing, you know? She just has this energy that - well, you've spoken to her, yeah?"

"I have." Hermione paused. Harry was reminded of their high school years together, he and Ron constantly snapping at her for doling out unsolicited relationship advice. She was always right, though. He knew that now.

"So." Charlie shook his head. "I don't know."

"The thing is, Charlie, you're really outgoing and wild too."

"Can't argue with that."

"But that doesn't work in a relationship. When two people are too much alike, they clash. Sure, sometimes it works, if there's real attraction there, but if there isn't mutual interest to begin with, and you're too much alike, I don't think anything can really happen."

"Percy, though?"

"He's probably the most uptight, restricted, socially awkward person any of us know."

"Right."

"And we're all in agreement that Audrey's a lovely woman who also happens to encompass polar opposites of those traits."

"But Percy?"

"I know, I know." She sighed. "I'm sorry. This must really hurt. I get it. Just...you'll find someone else. Someone that complements you like she complements Percy. What about Ron and me, d'you reckon we'd work if we had the same personality?"

Looking alarmed at the mere notion, Charlie shook his head fervently.

"Exactly. We don't, and that's why we work."

"Well, no, that's because you're soul mates, and all that," he replied indifferently.

"What?" Hermione and Ron both flushed scarlet.

"Oh, come off it. It's not like the rest of us haven't been waiting for this" - he gestured to them - "to transpire for ages. It was inevitable, really."

Ron glowered at him. "Seriously, are we the only ones who didn't know this was going to happen?"

Harry and Charlie nodded. Arthur, passing through the room, stuck his head in and added, "It was only a matter of time."

"Thanks, Dad!" called Ron sarcastically.

Mouth twitching in a suppressed beam, Hermione got to her feet again. "Right. I told Ginny I'd help her straighten up our room, it's a bit of a mess" - Harry barely concealed a snicker at this, and recalled his plaid shirt smelling of Hermione's perfume. Ron glared at him - "and I'll talk to you lot later." She leaned down and pecked Ron on the cheek. To Charlie she finished firmly, "Don't sweat it. If Audrey was stupid enough to let you go, you wouldn't want to be with her anyway, now would you?"

"Percy, though?" Charlie grumbled.

xxx

Harry woke up when sunlight streamed through an open window, hitting him squarely in the forehead. Squinting, he chucked a wad of socks at Ron, who groaned and flopped out of bed.

The air was subdued; spring break was nearly over and the rest of the house was savoring the blissful and tragically waning opportunities for more than five hours of sleep a night. Mrs. Weasley, of course, was up bright and early, and tossed pancakes and scrambled eggs expertly into pans on the stove when she heard the stampede of two begrudging young men coming downstairs.

"Never fun to be up early, is it?" she chirped.

"Coffee," Ron grunted. Hermione, entering with her hair twisted up into a wet bun, strode over and pressed her own mug into his hands.

"Aw," commented Harry, pouring his own. "Glad to see you're at the sharing-your-coffee stage."

"He's a dead man walking without caffeine, you know that," Hermione replied primly.

The edge of his mug resting on his lips, Harry raised his eyebrows. "Uh-huh."

Her voice quickly rose in pitch, indicating indignance. He and Ron used to do this to her, get her worked up for larks, and chortle mightily when she realized they were only giving her a hard time. "Just because -"

"Relax, Hermione. It's fine."

Ron winked at him; Harry smiled and took a seat at the breakfast nook.

"Morning, chaps, milady," said Fred, followed - surprise! - by George. They wore their matching "Gred and Forge" sweaters proudly. "Mum."

"Do help your father clean up this mess," she said, extending her cheek for a kiss. "I nearly beheaded myself on the counter, tripping over an extension cord this morning."

"Shouldn't be up so early, then," retorted George. She frowned fiercely at him. "Kidding. We'll deal with it."

"Thank you."

Fred turned to face Harry. "So, you're leaving us again?"

"Yup." Harry grabbed at four slices of toast, perfectly browned, as they were catapulted out of the toaster. "Shame."

"It is," he agreed. "You'll be in different cars, yeah?"

"Well, we've got two cars here, and four of us, so that would seem the natural course of action, yes."

"Remember when we were little, Ronnie?" said George, hopping off his stool with an apple in hand. "We used to go on those massive family caravans and name all the cars."

"Yeah, you and Hermione can have the couples car," said Fred, sniggering.

"I suppose that leaves Ginny with Harry," George said offhandedly. Harry stiffened.

"No," Ron and Hermione jumped in simultaneously.

"What?"

Ron said hastily, "I mean - makes sense for Hermione to go with Ginny, doesn't it?"

"I - I suppose so?" George looked befuddled just as Ginny - speak of the devil - walked in.

"I'm just grabbing some toast," she said quickly, extracting her thick hair from its ponytail holder and running a hand through it. "I need to shower and then I'll be ready to go."

She exited; the twins still appeared to be confused. "Are we missing something?" asked Fred.

"What? Of course not!" said Hermione. "Why on earth -"

"There it is!" shouted George, pointing at Hermione. "You're shrill. Why are you shrill?"

"What are you talking about? I'm not shrill," she objected shrilly.

"Oh, come off it," scoffed Fred. "You're the shrillest of us all."

"I -"

"Here you go," Mrs. Weasley interrupted, sliding several chipped platters across the table. "Fred, George, let it go, for goodness sake."

"Thanks, Mum," Ron said, shoveling a heap of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

She nodded, shrewdly surveying the room. "If you ask me, I don't see what the hassle is. You and Ginny" - she gestured to Ron and Hermione - "came up in the same car, why not go back the same way? Harry can manage on his own, can't you? I daresay you could use some alone time, too. You're looking a bit wiped out, dear."

He had never felt more grateful for Molly Weasley. "Thank you," he said. "Does that sound good to you lot?"

Ron and Hermione nodded - Hermione cast him a look that he chose to disregard - and the sound of clinking plates and small talk neutralized the mood once more.

"Hi," Ginny said brightly, zipping up her jacket and snatching a muffin. "Ready to go?"

"There's some bacon for you still on the frying pan," Mrs. Weasley said, already at the stove preparing for the next wave of breakfasters. "Grab it for the road, will you?"

"Okay." Ginny obligingly tossed the strips into a tupperware container and hugged her mother. "See you later."

"Have a safe trip."

"We will."

Final goodbyes were said - the twins apologized for "provoking" Hermione, though Harry doubted they were any less suspicious at this point - and the cars were packed up.

"Crazy week, huh," Ginny said to Harry as he shoved his suitcase, significantly larger than it was initially, thanks to Mrs. Weasley's generosity, into the boot.

"Tell me about it." With a final heave, he slammed the back shut and walked around to the driver's seat.

"Hey." Ginny tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh. It's, erm. It's fine."

"No, I really am," she said. "Really."

Harry was reminded of high school. There was a time when they got into petty, sibling-like fights over dumb things like misplaced CDs and who left their trainers in the middle of the hallway. "I'm sorry," she would say, and Harry would ask, "For what?"If she could tell him, he knew she was sincere. If not, he would roll his eyes and stalk off, though they'd be fine by the following morning.

"For what?" he asked presently. It was a loaded question: both parties knew this.

"For, you know. Holding a grudge. Being a bit of a prat. Juvenile, one might venture to say."

"Juvenile" was a reasonable description. Then again, Harry was equally over his head, and he would not be be surprised if his behavior had been similarly ineffective. He toyed with the keys in his hand. "Yeah?"

"There was no excuse for me to act that way."

"Okay, this is sounding way too rehearsed. Did Hermione talk to you?" He was half-joking.

She shoved him playfully. "Shut up, I'm giving a damn good apology here."

"Fine, fine. Thank you."

"No problem. So we're good?"

"Yeah." He got into the car. "Catch you on the flip side?"

She mock-saluted him, just like the old days. "Bye, Potter."

He felt a substantial sense of relief as he pulled out of the driveway. As he neared his apartment a few hours later, Harry thought quite optimistically that everything would go back to normal now. It would; "normal" just would not be what he might have expected. Things were going to change. It took time, but they were. And perhaps, if he was lucky, normalcy would be better than he'd ever imagined.