As Harry sets aside the last of his paperwork, his thoughts drift to his godson, who's sleeping upstairs. He tried talking to him about the issue with the story earlier that afternoon, but Teddy told him it was nothing and refused to say anything further. While it was clear he was lying, Harry didn't want to push, so he just reminded him he could talk to him about anything before changing the subject.
He's sitting in the living room, contemplating the situation with Teddy, when he hears the pop of Apparition outside. Familiar laughter drifts through the front door, and he smiles at the sound. To his surprise, however, Fred and Hermione don't come inside immediately. Instead, their laughter fades, and they stay outside for a few minutes before bursting through the front door, both beaming.
Their hands are clasped together, and there's something different in both of their expressions, a newfound joy and animation.
She told him, Harry thinks.
"Frycklie Frizzpollits," Fred is saying as they enter the room. "Frycklie Frizzpollits. Frycklie Frizzpollits. Frycklie Frizzpollits." The grin on his face is broadens as he summons a roll of parchment and a quill and scribbles something down. "There. I have no idea if I've got the spelling right."
"I think so," Hermione says, looking over his shoulder. "But that can't be his real name. It has to be a stage name."
"Who cares? It's amazing either way."
"You just like that it sounds like something you might sell in your shop."
"Of course," he replies unrepentantly. "I was thinking of reaching out to him, actually, to see if we can name something after him; the Frycklie or the Frizzpollits. It could be a miniature version of those music players you showed me, except... I'm not sure yet, but something that makes people dance. I doubt we can get a license for his music, but maybe…"
"Who's Freckle Frizpolls?" Harry asks.
They look at him in surprise, as if they didn't realise he was there, and he almost feels guilty for disrupting them.
Almost.
"He's the musician who was playing at the restaurant tonight. We wanted to track down some of his records."
"How was your night?"
"Excellent." Hermione glances up at Fred, and they share a smile. "Just perfect."
"The day was good, too," he adds.
"All of it was."
"Do you want to stay for a drink?" Harry asks awkwardly, feeling very much like a third wheel. He isn't up to entertaining anyone at the moment, but surely that would be better than this… gooeyness.
Fred glances down at his watch. "Thanks for the offer, but I should go. I need to ask George how the day went."
Hermione walks him out before returning to sit down on the sofa next to Harry.
"So you're together now?"
She nods. "We are. Thank you for pushing me to say something."
"Anytime."
It's nice to see her moving on. Harry knows part of it is the initial thrill, but she looks happier after one date with Fred than she ever did with Ron.
His friends are both moving — on, forward — just moving, Hermione with Fred and Ron with the interview in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. And here he is, standing still, just focusing on keeping his head above water.