'Of course I can help you redecorate,' Hermione says, clasping her hands together to keep from moving them about in her excitement. Grimmauld Place is one of the most secure places in the United Kingdom, safe from anyone who might want revenge for the war, Harry's work as an Auror, or her activism. But while it's home, it's far from cheerful. 'What are you thinking?'

Harry scratches the back of his neck, frowning. 'I don't know. I know what I want it to feel like, but I don't know what it needs to look like to feel that way, if that makes sense. I've never furnished anything before.'

Hermione hums in agreement. Despite Harry and Ron's assumption that she knows something about everything, neither has she. Her parents let her pick out some of the furniture for her childhood bedroom, but since she spent most of her teenage years away at school, she never changed it as she grew older.

Somehow, she doesn't think stuffed animals and lilac curtains are what Harry's after.

With that in mind, she heads off early to work the next morning so she can stop by a paper shop to buy several home renovation magazines, and when she goes out with Fred the evening after, she picks his brain about his experiences with setting up the shop. By the time she returns home that night, she's passably knowledgeable about the subject, even if she still has a long way to go.

The next day, she and Harry talk through their ideas in the living room while Teddy whizzes around on his toy broom, zigzagging around the armchairs like an obstacle course.

'This is going to take a lot of time and effort,' Hermione says, watching Harry closely. She remembers the last time he tried doing this; he'll have to be fully committed for this to work. 'It isn't something we can wave our wands and be done with.'

'I know.' A gust of air sends her hair flying as Teddy loops around the table in front of her, and Harry's hand slams down on the rolls of parchment to keep them from rolling away.

As Teddy circles to the other side of the room, Harry picks up the piece where Hermione wrote the names of popular interior designers and stuck photographs of their work. He pauses, surveying them. 'I like the look of these samples… Tracey Davis. She was in our year, wasn't she?'

Hermione nods. 'A Slytherin. Her grandfather's a Muggle, so she never fell in with Malfoy's lot, and she merges magical and Muggle influences in her designs.'

'I'll owl her about organising a consultation. The first thing I want to do is get more light in here, so it'll be good to get her opinion.'

Hermione winces as Teddy loops around again, messing up the parchment. They aren't going to make much more progress like this, but they should probably wait to hear Tracey's opinion first anyway. 'Maybe we should wrap it up here for now.'

Hermione puts her notes away as Harry quickly sends off a letter to Tracey, then Harry grabs Teddy's toy Snitch and tosses it between his hands. 'Do you reckon you can catch the Snitch before me, Ted?'

'Yes!' Teddy beams and flies over to Harry.

Watching Harry magically move the furniture to the sides of the room to give them more space, Hermione sighs. Why is everyone in her life obsessed with Quidditch?