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- the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household

"It was definitely the maid."

"No, we've been watching these shows for almost a month now - it's never the maid, come on."

"Well, I don't hear you offering any suggestions."

"Yeah, because I actually wait for some evidence before I form a theory and don't wait for random accusations to stick? Merlin, Weasley, how you made Auror is beyond me."

"It's 'cause I can punch a man out in under two minutes. Men taller and bigger than you, Malfoy, you absolute twig. Want me to prove it?"

"Oh, please, the only thing you can 'punch out' is one of those little gnomes in your background that you resemble so closely, you hulking ginger mess of-"

"Draco!"

Draco swung around in his place on the loveseat in the Burrow living room, silver eyes wide and innocent, to see his wife scowling down at him. "Gin, didn't you hear? He started it!"

Before a very red Ron could open his mouth to shout something equally childish back, his younger sister raised a hand to stop him. "Enough," Ginny hissed as she glared at both men. "I knew getting a television set for this place was a terrible idea."

"Not what you said when you watched that awful island dating show." Ron grumbled under his breath, settling down for the moment.

"How did you even sneak up on us?" Draco complained, sure he had an ear out to make sure his wife didn't overhear him insulting her family members.

"Women are the sneakiest, mate." Ron answered knowingly, leaning back in his chair.

Ginny and Draco rolled their eyes simultaneously. "Oh, really, Ron? Should I call Hermione in here to verify that extremely scientific observation?" Ginny snapped, while Draco couldn't help but admire the flush that was spreading up her neck and to her cheeks.

George sniggered from his place in the corner, where he'd been happily munching popcorn while (much more quietly) watching telly with Ron and Draco. "Oh, please, Gin, please call her."

"No!" Ron whined, making a striking figure as a six-foot-four man pleading with his petite little sister.

Draco, who'd spent the last few minutes silently appreciating his wife's figure and rosy complexion, suddenly decided there were other pressing matters to attend to. "Okay, Gin, we'll be good. The commercial break's over, and they're going to reveal the murderer!"

The youngest Weasley sons were rapt with attention, and nobody noticed Ginny throw her hands in the air and walk out of the room as the ominous music filled the sunny, cramped Burrow sitting room.

"By the way," George asked, stuffing his mouth with more popcorn. "When's that thing at your mum's, Malfoy? Saturday?"

"That's right," Draco answered, used by now to food constantly falling out of people's open mouths around here.

"Do I have to wear a suit?" Ron groused, eyes still trained on the television.

"Come in your birthday suit, Weasley, it really fits your personality and level of class."

"Oh, bugger off, Malfoy."

"Don't need to anymore, now that your sister's here."

"I'm going to murder you and cover it up, I know people in the Minist- HA! It was the maid! Take that, ferret!"

"Stupid Muggle invention. Ginny, come back! Defend my honor! And uninstall this trash!"