-at the platform at King's Crossing, the last day of school-
Merlin's BALLS," said Ron, softly, eyes wide. "She did that on purpose."
"Um, yeah," said Ginny, shakily, getting herself over the effects of the incendiary kiss she'd just been given, and watching as her girlfriend walked away, trailed by her shellshocked parents, with the air of someone walking off to meet the firing squad. "I guess she decided that would be something they couldn't misinterpret or ignore."
"Damn," said Fred, who'd come with their mom to meet the train, "what was THAT all about? Did I mention, sis, I admire your taste in girlfriends?"
"I think Hermione just took the battle to the enemy," said Molly Weasley. "I'll keep the fire lit for her."
"You think she'll be showing up at The Burrow soon?" said Fred.
Molly nodded. "I predict sometime between dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow morning, myself. That fight's going to be interesting."
"So, Fred, " said Ron, with the air of someone changing the topic, "did you get the patents for the new stuff like you were thinking?" And with that, the Weasleys headed off home.
* * *
Amazingly, Ginny reflected, with just herself, her mom, and Ron, The Burrow was pretty quiet, compared to her memories. Of course, she thought, Charlie's in Rumania, Bill's in Egypt, Percy's married with his own place, Fred and George have a flat of their own... We're the only two left...and the quieter of the lot, at that.
But the memories of laughter and shouting children and friendly arguments seemed to radiate from the walls of the old kitchen, like warmth from a hearth raked out but not gone cold yet, and it still was, in an indefineable way, home. Her father came home, just before dinner, and she realized that he looked tireder than usual.
He wouldn't, however, say what was wrong. "More of the same," he said, rubbing a hand wearily across his eyes. "It wears a man out, you know. I...I'm going to wash up, Molly."
"All right, dear. Dinner's almost ready."
Ginny HAD missed her mother's cooking. It was good, but...erratic. Her spaghetti sauce, for example, could be anything from painfully ordinary to outrageously good, and you never knew which way it would go. Tonight, however, was one of the better versions, and she ate everything on her plate and got a second helping. There was plenty, of course, her mom not quite having scaled her cooking down for a smaller group yet.
She and Ron flipped a coin for dishes, and she was just clearing the table when the fire popped, crackled, flamed green, and Hermione stepped out.
She looked like hell, face white, eyes staring hollowly, and her voice was unsteady. "Hello, Mr., Mrs. Weasley...I don't mean to intrude, but might I stay here tonight?"
"Of course, Hermione," said Arthur Weasley, "but..."
His wife shot a look at him, and he shut up. She instead took the cage which held Crookshanks out of Hermione's grasp, and said, "Have you eaten yet, dear? No?" Then sit down and I'll have you a plate ready, there's plenty. Ron, will you take over from Ginny, dear, please?"
Relieved of dish washing, Ginny came to sit next to Hermione, who was mechanically eating spaghetti. She let Crookshanks out, and he sprang up to the bench between them, where Ginny stroked his back as she watched her girlfriend.
"Did you bring anything with you, dear?" her mother asked.
"It's in my pocket," Hermione said, "Reduced. I didn't realize that a room looks so empty when you take all the furniture out..."
"Oh," said Ginny. "You mean...."
Hermione laughed hollowly. "Yes indeed, everything I own is right here. I suppose my mother will turn my bedroom into a craft room, or something."
She finished her spaghetti, and Ron took her bowl without comment, darting a glance at her.
"I'm not going to ask if you're all right, Hermione," said Molly, compassionately. "I will ask if you will be all right."
"I...I think so. But right now I think I'd like to just..."
"Yes," said Molly, with a wealth of understanding in her voice. "A bath would be a good thing, I think. Come on, dear."
And she led Hermione upstairs, and into what had been Fred and George's room, at one point. "Where's your trunk, Hermione?" she said, and when handed it, set it at the foot of one of the beds, and said, "Finite Incantatem". It turned back into normal size, and Hermione, with a kind of fragile dignity, opened it, drew what appeared to be doll's-house furnishings out of her pocket, and packed them away, laying the thumb-sized books and matchboxes of possessions in the tray for later perusal.
"I'll get you out a nightgown," Molly said. "Take your robe, and scoot."
Alone in the room, Molly frowned. A wave of her wand removed old posters and the remnants of exploding jokes from the walls, and another whispered spell painted them a creamy white, and spilled a floral border along the top of the wall. She bit her lip, looked at the furniture, and then Reduced one bed, putting it in her pocket. The remaining bed she transfigured into a double, a fourposter which bore a distinct resemblance to the ones at Hogwarts. Spell by spell, she redid the room....fat pillows and warm, soft duvet for the bed, a thick rug on the floor, two sets of bookshelves that she took out of Hermione's trunk and restored, a comfortable armchair to read in, Hermione's working desk, with its pigeonholes for sorting and storing parchment rolls, a wardrobe and two dressers.
Ginny peeped in to see her mother briskly unpacking Hermione's possessions with a spell, wand directing books to shelves, clothes into wardrobes and drawers, and a nightgown and knickers laying themselves out tactfully on the bed. She stood there, amazed.
"WOW, Mum! I didn't know you could do this!"
"It would have been stupid to do it for your brothers," she said, briskly. "Although Ron does seem to be less destructive than Fred and George." She yawned as a final flick of her wand lit lamps beside the reading chair in the corner and the bed, spilling a welcoming, cozy golden light over the room. "However, it's been some time since I did all that at once.
"She needs a space of her own, " Molly continued. "That's why I didn't just put her in with you... women need their own space more than men do, I find."
Ginny went over and hugged her mother, with great relief. "How do you know so much, Mum?"
Molly laughed. "Experience and observation. When I get her to bed, I want to talk to you, all right?
"Sure..." Ginny said, as her mother walked out of the room, and Hermione, looking rather young in bathrobe and bare feet, walked in, and gaped with shock.
"How...I mean, who....
"I wasn't going to make you sleep with residue from the twin's last project before their move coating the walls, " said Molly, returning with a small vial of potion in her hand.
"It's lovely," she said, dazedly. "I don't know how..." "No thanks necessary, Hermione," said Molly. "Understand me, this is yours, until such time as you get your own flat and move out. Your own space."
"I..."
"And now," Molly said briskly, "put on your night clothes and drink this."
"What is it?"
"Dreamless Sleep potion. A good thing to keep around the house for occasional use."
Hermione nodded. She got dressed, and then took the vial from Molly's hand and drank it.
"Now, dear, do you want me or Ginny to stay with you until you fall asleep?"
"G...Ginny, please... if you don't mind....?"
"I don't mind," said Ginny.
Molly Weasley crossed over to Hermione, gave her a brisk hug, and kissed her on the forehead. "Now into bed with you, before that takes effect."
She got into bed, and Ginny kicked her shoes off, slid in from the other side, and pulled her into an embrace. Molly Weasley shut the door, and went downstairs to tell Arthur what was going on.
Merlin's BALLS," said Ron, softly, eyes wide. "She did that on purpose."
"Um, yeah," said Ginny, shakily, getting herself over the effects of the incendiary kiss she'd just been given, and watching as her girlfriend walked away, trailed by her shellshocked parents, with the air of someone walking off to meet the firing squad. "I guess she decided that would be something they couldn't misinterpret or ignore."
"Damn," said Fred, who'd come with their mom to meet the train, "what was THAT all about? Did I mention, sis, I admire your taste in girlfriends?"
"I think Hermione just took the battle to the enemy," said Molly Weasley. "I'll keep the fire lit for her."
"You think she'll be showing up at The Burrow soon?" said Fred.
Molly nodded. "I predict sometime between dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow morning, myself. That fight's going to be interesting."
"So, Fred, " said Ron, with the air of someone changing the topic, "did you get the patents for the new stuff like you were thinking?" And with that, the Weasleys headed off home.
* * *
Amazingly, Ginny reflected, with just herself, her mom, and Ron, The Burrow was pretty quiet, compared to her memories. Of course, she thought, Charlie's in Rumania, Bill's in Egypt, Percy's married with his own place, Fred and George have a flat of their own... We're the only two left...and the quieter of the lot, at that.
But the memories of laughter and shouting children and friendly arguments seemed to radiate from the walls of the old kitchen, like warmth from a hearth raked out but not gone cold yet, and it still was, in an indefineable way, home. Her father came home, just before dinner, and she realized that he looked tireder than usual.
He wouldn't, however, say what was wrong. "More of the same," he said, rubbing a hand wearily across his eyes. "It wears a man out, you know. I...I'm going to wash up, Molly."
"All right, dear. Dinner's almost ready."
Ginny HAD missed her mother's cooking. It was good, but...erratic. Her spaghetti sauce, for example, could be anything from painfully ordinary to outrageously good, and you never knew which way it would go. Tonight, however, was one of the better versions, and she ate everything on her plate and got a second helping. There was plenty, of course, her mom not quite having scaled her cooking down for a smaller group yet.
She and Ron flipped a coin for dishes, and she was just clearing the table when the fire popped, crackled, flamed green, and Hermione stepped out.
She looked like hell, face white, eyes staring hollowly, and her voice was unsteady. "Hello, Mr., Mrs. Weasley...I don't mean to intrude, but might I stay here tonight?"
"Of course, Hermione," said Arthur Weasley, "but..."
His wife shot a look at him, and he shut up. She instead took the cage which held Crookshanks out of Hermione's grasp, and said, "Have you eaten yet, dear? No?" Then sit down and I'll have you a plate ready, there's plenty. Ron, will you take over from Ginny, dear, please?"
Relieved of dish washing, Ginny came to sit next to Hermione, who was mechanically eating spaghetti. She let Crookshanks out, and he sprang up to the bench between them, where Ginny stroked his back as she watched her girlfriend.
"Did you bring anything with you, dear?" her mother asked.
"It's in my pocket," Hermione said, "Reduced. I didn't realize that a room looks so empty when you take all the furniture out..."
"Oh," said Ginny. "You mean...."
Hermione laughed hollowly. "Yes indeed, everything I own is right here. I suppose my mother will turn my bedroom into a craft room, or something."
She finished her spaghetti, and Ron took her bowl without comment, darting a glance at her.
"I'm not going to ask if you're all right, Hermione," said Molly, compassionately. "I will ask if you will be all right."
"I...I think so. But right now I think I'd like to just..."
"Yes," said Molly, with a wealth of understanding in her voice. "A bath would be a good thing, I think. Come on, dear."
And she led Hermione upstairs, and into what had been Fred and George's room, at one point. "Where's your trunk, Hermione?" she said, and when handed it, set it at the foot of one of the beds, and said, "Finite Incantatem". It turned back into normal size, and Hermione, with a kind of fragile dignity, opened it, drew what appeared to be doll's-house furnishings out of her pocket, and packed them away, laying the thumb-sized books and matchboxes of possessions in the tray for later perusal.
"I'll get you out a nightgown," Molly said. "Take your robe, and scoot."
Alone in the room, Molly frowned. A wave of her wand removed old posters and the remnants of exploding jokes from the walls, and another whispered spell painted them a creamy white, and spilled a floral border along the top of the wall. She bit her lip, looked at the furniture, and then Reduced one bed, putting it in her pocket. The remaining bed she transfigured into a double, a fourposter which bore a distinct resemblance to the ones at Hogwarts. Spell by spell, she redid the room....fat pillows and warm, soft duvet for the bed, a thick rug on the floor, two sets of bookshelves that she took out of Hermione's trunk and restored, a comfortable armchair to read in, Hermione's working desk, with its pigeonholes for sorting and storing parchment rolls, a wardrobe and two dressers.
Ginny peeped in to see her mother briskly unpacking Hermione's possessions with a spell, wand directing books to shelves, clothes into wardrobes and drawers, and a nightgown and knickers laying themselves out tactfully on the bed. She stood there, amazed.
"WOW, Mum! I didn't know you could do this!"
"It would have been stupid to do it for your brothers," she said, briskly. "Although Ron does seem to be less destructive than Fred and George." She yawned as a final flick of her wand lit lamps beside the reading chair in the corner and the bed, spilling a welcoming, cozy golden light over the room. "However, it's been some time since I did all that at once.
"She needs a space of her own, " Molly continued. "That's why I didn't just put her in with you... women need their own space more than men do, I find."
Ginny went over and hugged her mother, with great relief. "How do you know so much, Mum?"
Molly laughed. "Experience and observation. When I get her to bed, I want to talk to you, all right?
"Sure..." Ginny said, as her mother walked out of the room, and Hermione, looking rather young in bathrobe and bare feet, walked in, and gaped with shock.
"How...I mean, who....
"I wasn't going to make you sleep with residue from the twin's last project before their move coating the walls, " said Molly, returning with a small vial of potion in her hand.
"It's lovely," she said, dazedly. "I don't know how..." "No thanks necessary, Hermione," said Molly. "Understand me, this is yours, until such time as you get your own flat and move out. Your own space."
"I..."
"And now," Molly said briskly, "put on your night clothes and drink this."
"What is it?"
"Dreamless Sleep potion. A good thing to keep around the house for occasional use."
Hermione nodded. She got dressed, and then took the vial from Molly's hand and drank it.
"Now, dear, do you want me or Ginny to stay with you until you fall asleep?"
"G...Ginny, please... if you don't mind....?"
"I don't mind," said Ginny.
Molly Weasley crossed over to Hermione, gave her a brisk hug, and kissed her on the forehead. "Now into bed with you, before that takes effect."
She got into bed, and Ginny kicked her shoes off, slid in from the other side, and pulled her into an embrace. Molly Weasley shut the door, and went downstairs to tell Arthur what was going on.