The game goes brilliantly. The usual rambunctiousness is pulled into line by Arthur, who maintains much more control than Harry would have expected from him. Molly, however, is the standout surprise. Rusty as she is, she's a formidable player, zipping through the air like she was born to do it. It quickly became apparent to Harry that she's where the kids got their love of Quidditch from, and his awe only increases as the game wears on.

"Why didn't she come to the World Cup with us?" he asks George as he hovers beside him while scanning the pitch for the familiar golden shimmer of the Snitch."

The other wizard shrugs. "She doesn't like watching sport, only playing it. Dad's the other way around nowadays, so he was the one to take us."

A distant sparkle catches Harry's eye. "Sorry, got to go," he quips, and then he's diving, barrelling down, racing with so much speed that the wind whips his hair back and forces him to squint against the oncoming force. The sheer delight of it forces a careless laugh out of him. This is why he loves flying. This is why he will always continue playing, no matter how many times he's injured.

A bludger comes pelting his way, but he ducks and loops under it. Charlie starts to race towards him, but he has no chance of reaching Harry in time, but Harry accelerates anyway just to feel the rush, and he reaches out his hand, and he –

Got it.

His fingers clench around the fluttering ball, and it settles in his grasp. As he raises his hand, George lets out a whoop of joy. In the space of several seconds, his teammates all crash into him, forming a ball of hugs and congratulations, and it feels just like school again.

"And the Pineapples win the match!" Arthur announces, forgoing his whistle in favour of a voice amplification charm.

"There's a reason I chose your team, Harry," Molly declares. "I knew you would catch it."

"You don't even know how to lose, do you?" George asks, ruffling his hair. "Couldn't do it if you tried."

"Unless you're being sabotaged," Angelina cuts in, bitterness tinging her voice at the painful memory.

"I couldn't have done it without you guys."

"Aw, look at him, he's getting all sheepish," George teases.

Angelina, however, merely snorts. "Damn right you couldn't. Fred would've knocked you off your broom if he hadn't had us to worry about as well."

Gradually, they all return to the ground. As soon as Harry touches down, a black-haired bullet of a person collides into his side. Laughing, he hoists his godson into his arms and stares down into his shining green eyes. "I thought you were inside."

"Aunt Mione and I came out after she finished washing up." Teddy looks normal, but something about his innocent expression sets Harry's nerves afire. The twins have managed to tutor him into avoiding the usual tells, like biting his lips and looking away, but Harry still gets the sense that he's hiding something.

"Did you, now?"

"No," the boy replies, frowning in consternation. "Not now. Earlier."

"Figure of speech." Looking up, Harry meets Hermione's eyes. There's something there, too. It's so minor that most people would have missed it, but he has broken enough rules alongside her to be able to tell when she's up to no good. "How did the dishes go?"

A pink tint spreads across her cheeks. "Splendid."

"Right," Fred exclaims, swiftly moving between them as the rest of his teammates head back inside to start showering. "You wouldn't have seen our prank, would you, Hermione?"

Harry doesn't miss the look of relief that flashes across her face as she asks, "I missed it? Seriously?"

"You know what they always say; the Quidditch lover sees the pranks."

"No one ever says that. You're the first person I've ever heard say that."

"You would've loved it, Hermione." Ron trudges his way towards them and slings his arm around the witch. Harry shifts his gaze to him as Hermione shoves it off, complaining about sweat, but he just grins in response. "Birds swooped in," he gushes. "As soon as Dad blew the starting whistle. We all flew up, and they all flew down and swarmed him. Boy, was he startled!"

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, 'course. They just wanted food. When they realised he didn't have any, they flew away. Except they kept coming back every time he blew the whistle, so he eventually just gave up and charmed his voice so we could all hear him. He had to make drum sounds whenever he wanted our attention because even whistling manually would call them back."

She laughs, seeming genuinely surprised by his story. "I can't believe we missed it! That sounds hilarious."

"I know. It's a shame. There's always next time, though."

"WHAT IS THIS?!"

They all flinch at the sound. Any doubts Harry might have had about Hermione hiding something fade away in an instant when he sees the expression on her face. She looks curious but, most of all, guilty. And the twins look excited, as if they know exactly what their mother just came across. Angelina, Ron and Fleur shoot the twins exasperated glances before heading inside to see what the matter is, but neither the twins nor Hermione move a muscle.

Even Teddy looks calm.

"The four of you are in on this, aren't you?" Harry asks. "The bird thing was just Part One."

Four matching grins – two unashamed, two sheepish – turn to face him.

"WHY IS ALL THE FURNITURE HANGING FROM THE ROOF?!"

A/N: The inverted room thing actually did happen once at MIT, and there's an urban legend that a student frequently visited the sports field during the off season, where he would – wearing an umpire's uniform – blow a whistle before spreading out birdseed so that the birds were conditioned into associating the sound with food. When the first interschool football match rolled around…

The idea here is that the twins prepared the bird thing beforehand and were going to do the inverted room thing if, when, and on whatever scale they got the chance. Hermione's participation just gave them the opportunity to merge the two together.