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A Spot of Gardening

Ron and Hermione naturally didn't need keys to get back in, something that Harry had probably forgotten. However, it was nice to apparate into the kitchen after a busy yet fruitless day of interviews and find two sets of keys, each dangling from a brass letter, sitting on the dining table. The French doors were open, and Ron followed the sound of Rose's voice into the conservatory where Hedwig still slept. The wall behind her perch contained yet another bookcase, full of gardening books interspersed with empty pots, seed packets, gloves and a few bicycle repair kits. Harry's bike had a seat fitted on the back for Rose to ride on, though she had a small bike of her own for short trips. There was an unmatted but framed watercolour in here too, of the garden as it must have been when Harry and Sarah bought the house. It had a title scrawled across the bottom, which read 'don't be fooled - your artist is no gardener' in a strong black scrawl. The picture showed a garden run wild with neglect.

The back door was open, and let out onto a small paved courtyard. That ended at a low stone wall that had three steps cut into it, and Ron noted the retractable clothesline that ran from the scullery wall to the high brick garden wall. Ivy had been clipped and trained to disguise the bricks where the retaining wall started, so that everywhere you looked was green. There was a tall oak tree in the back corner by the gate, and a small green potting shed backed against the wall halfway up the long garden. Once more there were garden beds all along the sides of the garden, full of plants that Harry and Rose had evidently tended today. The grass was slowly recovering from the cold of winter, and would be a nice lawn once it started growing again.

"Hello!" Rose yelled from where she was sitting under the oak tree. She jumped up and ran toward them, and Hermione giggled, brushing past Ron to run and meet her. Harry looked up from where he was oiling the hand pushed lawn mower and grinned before turning his attention back to his task.

Ron had left from the house that morning to first head for the Burrow. He'd warned his mum that he was bringing guests, and asked that she tell his siblings to come early if she spoke to them today. He managed to evade her interrogation by leaving with his dad for the ministry, though Arthur also did a good line in subtle interrogation that had Ron on the hop to keep his secret. He wanted Harry to see unrehearsed reactions to his return, there was no other way his friend would feel comfortable.

The Floo office had given him no trouble, as Hermione had the connection to their flat in her name. They were surprised that he had apparently moved to Cambridge, where no other Wizards lived, but he was able to shrug and put on his best vacant expression. He checked in with the office, fire called a few siblings, and then went to meet Hermione for the second interview of the day. They were concentrating on the stallholders today, as the fair had been rescheduled for this weekend, and their interviews could all be held in the same place. They both picked up a present for Rose at the stalls, a small patchwork quilt for her bed from Ron and a matching cushion from Hermione. The present had been shrunk in a quiet corner and stuck in Ron's pocket for safekeeping, along with the shrunken bag of Floo powder.

He and Hermione had taken it in turns to ask the standard questions of each person they'd interviewed while the other cast a discrete spell to detect a magical aura. In the full light of day, this spells glow couldn't be seen, and the hum went unnoticed among the background noises of the fair. They'd spoken to over thirty people, and no one had seen anything to indicate someone was casting nearby. Not that they could actually ask that, the questions ran more along the lines of 'was anybody acting strangely, muttering or gesticulating to themselves, did you hear any unusual languages' and so on. Britain had such a wide range of cultures, that not all 'foreign' languages were actual spells.

Ron came back to the present when Rose called his name and went to get his own hug and kiss. She clung to him just as tightly for a long moment, and then wriggled to be put down. The moment her feet touched the grass she was headed inside and Hermione glanced after her before going to greet Harry. Given the state of his clothes and hands, they forewent the hug, choosing a familial kiss and smile. Ron wasn't about to let Hermione have all the fun and added his efforts to the greeting, kissing Harry the way he would his partner. Harry didn't seem to mind.

"Catch any criminals?" he asked lightly and Ron nodded, a stupid grin stretching his lips.

"Yeah loads," fake enthusiasm coloured his voice and he laughed outright when Harry pantomimed awe and wonder, pretending to swoon. Hermione rolled her eyes, but she was smiling at them.

"Ten years apart and you two haven't changed a bit," she mock scolded, more because it seemed expected of her than because she was genuinely put out.

"Great isn't it?" Ron and Harry chorused and cracked up. Ron watched his friend crouch down and finish putting the wheel back on his machine while Hermione wandered off to look at the plants. He turned when Rose called for him and smiled as she trotted to his side, something clutched in each hand.

"This is for you!" she thrust the brass key ring in the shape of the letter R into Ron's hand, the newly cut key gleaming in the late afternoon sunshine, "I chose the letters while daddy told the man to cut a key for it. He had a great machine, but it was very noisy! We went away while he worked and when we came back they were all done!"

"It's great Rosie. I'll never leave home without it," Ron promised, and she beamed before trotting off to give Hermione her H and repeat her story. Harry wheeled the lawn mower into the potting shed and came out, wiping his hands on a rag.

"I realised afterwards that you'd just apparate or Floo in," he shrugged sheepishly, "But… I guess it's a sort of symbol. You two turned up on my doorstep just when I was ready to see you, and well… I'll never hide from you again. I'm sorry it took me so long to get over myself."

"No," Ron shook his head, speaking quickly because the girls were headed their way, "You did what you had to, in order to survive. We might have turned up at a good time, but I know you'd have written to us eventually, Harry. You wouldn't have stayed away forever."

Harry gave him a slightly wobbly smile, and took a deep breath before heading back into the potting shed with his tools. Ron waited with the girls for him to close and lock the door, and then followed the others inside, feeling that they'd just turned an important corner for Harry.

"I haven't been shopping," Harry confessed as he fed Hedwig, "How about we clean up quickly and then go out for dinner? Rose and I will go restock the cupboards tomorrow, and then we'll be able to enjoy dinner at the Burrow with a clean conscience."

"Sunday is shopping and cleaning day," Rose told Ron solemnly, "Daddy and I make the house all pretty for the next week. I put all my toys away and throw my clothes down the stairs for washing."

"Literally," Harry patted his daughter on the head as he passed, "The kid has lethal aim. I bet she'd make a Chaser in her time."

"What's a Chaser?" Rose asked, trotting after her father. Harry washed his hands at the sink, glancing down at Rose as he lathered and rinsed.

"A Chaser is someone who chases a special kind of ball in a sport that Ron and I used to play at school. When you're older I'll tell you all about it." he promised, and Ron took that to mean that Harry wasn't ready to talk about Hogwarts just yet. Rose accepted this answer, though there was a little frown on her forehead.

"You need a bath," Harry told her, "Then when you get home from dinner you can go straight to bed."

"Can Aunty Hermanee give me my bath?" Rose looked up at her Aunt imploringly, "Then Uncle Ron can read me a bed time story."

"Oh, and what will I do?" Harry grinned at Ron while Rose thought it over. Ron grinned back when Rose threw her arms around Harry's legs and leaned into him.

"Tuck me in," she nodded and Harry patted her head again, nodding and saying he could manage that. Once the girls had gone upstairs, Ron produced the Floo powder and Harry pulled a tall tin out of the scullery for the bag to go into. He put that next to Sarah's picture while Ron unshrunk Rose's birthday presents. The quilt was predominantly yellow, with the pillow picking up each shade and reflecting it neatly.

"You didn't have to do that," Harry touched a corner of the quilt gently, "She'll love it."

"We love her," Ron shrugged, "She's great, Harry. Funny and smart and generous. Hogwarts won't know what's hit it."

Harry chuckled and Ron picked the gifts up, heading upstairs to put them away in one of heir carpetbags. Harry followed him and started gathering a nicer set of jeans and a dark red tee. That reminded Ron of his episode with the towel this morning and he confessed in a quiet voice. If this was as big a deal as Hermione thought it was, it would be better to tell Harry sooner rather than later. Fortunately, Harry laughed and waved it aside.

"Ron, I throw her in the shower with me when I'm in a hurry. She's seen me naked; I doubt that seeing you in a towel will be a problem. And I don't have a problem with it either, I know you won't hurt or scare her."

"Thanks, Harry," Ron sat on the bed, relieved and the bathroom door opened. Harry went to clean up while Hermione apparently chased Rose all over her room, trying to get the over excited girl dressed. Ron made a silent bet with himself that she'd fall asleep in the restaurant and they'd end up carrying the child home.

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Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

On Sunday they finished interviewing the vendors and the fair organisers. It was a relief to know that they were now halfway down the list, although they'd yet to hear mention of anyone acting strangely. They'd start interviewing the staff and residents of the half way house on Monday, and be finished by Tuesday at the latest, which would give them time to start on the students they'd missed interviewing on Friday. The Easter hols started at the end of the week, so that was important to get done before the students scattered. They'd start the residents of the University town the next weekend, and hopefully have something to show for it at the end.

Hermione went straight upstairs to have a bath and get changed, as one of the vendors had spilled lavender water all over her, and she now reeked of the stuff. A good cleaning spell would remove the odour, but it was not something that could be done when someone was in the clothes. She'd had a very pinched look to her face all day, and Ron had been as supportive as possible to avoid a major incident.

"What smells?" Rose asked from the door of the front room, though Hermione was out of earshot by then. Ron grinned and bent to kiss his niece, glancing into the front room where Harry was curled up on the couch, asleep. His friend always looked vulnerable when he slept, something that made Ron feel affection and worry at the same time.

"Aunty Hermione had a little accident with some perfume today," he said in a quiet voice, "Has daddy been asleep long, Rosie?"

"Mmm," Rose nodded, her nose wrinkling a bit, "He gets tired and has a nap with me. But I woke up first this time. I'm not supposed to wander around the house though, daddy says if he's asleep to stay in the room that I'm in unless I need the loo."

"Wise idea," Ron picked her up. Harry had managed to come up with a way to circumvent accidents, provided Rose stuck to the agreement, "But I'm awake, so how about we have a bit of time together. We can get you all tidied up for your visit to Nanny's house if you like."

"Can I wear a frock?" she asked and Ron nodded, assuming she had one in her cupboard upstairs. Rose smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"First we have to brush my hair with a wet brush. Daddy keeps one in the kitchen for when we're in a hurry," she directed and Ron walked into the kitchen obediently, finding the brush and wetting it at the sink before sitting her on the counter and brushing cautiously. Rose was very patient with him, even telling him he could pull harder if he liked. Once wet her hair lay down a bit, the curls falling neatly about her face. Ron put her on the floor and followed her up the stairs. The bathroom door was open, so he took his niece in to wash her hands and face quickly, listening to her chatter about the people she'd seen shopping and how daddy had dropped the vacuum cleaner on his foot and said a very bad word.

"Poor daddy," Ron chuckled, "Did you give him a hug to make it better?"

"And a kiss," Rose nodded, and led the way into her room. Ron opened the cupboard and looked inside. There were three frocks, one a blue checked affair with short sleeves, a high waist and white petticoat with a lace trim, one that was white in the same style, but with roses climbing all over it, and a plain yellow sundress. There were two further pairs of overalls hanging up, one in green corduroy and one denim with bright red patches on the knees. There were a few skirts, so small they looked funny, and several pairs of jeans and trousers in different colours and styles. One or two blouses hung besides the skirts, but Rose seemed more like a jeans and tee girl to Ron. There was a plastic garment bag off to one side.

"You don't wear a lot of frocks, do you?" Ron looked down and Rose grinned.

"If I can't dig in the garden in it, then it's no good, daddy says. He likes clothes that are tough!" she chuckled, "Blue frock please!"

"Blue it is," Ron pulled it off the hangar and put it on the freshly made bed. Rose pulled out a pair of sandals to match, and after a moment of thought trotted over to her dresser and pointed at a drawer.

"Daddy makes me take a cardigan," she reminded her uncle, and Ron found a blue one to match the frock that met with her approval. He remembered that Harry had carried one for his daughter last night, and put it on his sleeping child for the walk home. Ron had won his bet with himself on that score. He shut the cupboard while Rose sat on the floor to pull off her loafers and socks, and then steadied her as she pulled off her skirt and tee.

He picked up the dress and looked it over carefully, noting the zipper in the back, which he immediately undid. He bunched the frock up like it was a shirt and Rose held her arms up obligingly, letting him pull it over her head and settle it in place. He zipped up, shook out the skirt and watched her plop onto her rug to pull on the sandals, which he buckled for her.

"You look very pretty, Rosie," he smiled, and she smiled back hesitantly. He gathered up her dirty clothes and stuck them in the basket that she pointed to while she thought the question that was clearly on the tip of her tongue over. She was like her father - you didn't push Harry to share his fears either.

"Will Nanny like it?" the question contained undertones of worry which Ron hastened to put to rest.

"Nanny would love you no matter what you wore," he promised, "My mum will be so happy to see you she won't care at all if you turned up in a paper bag. She'd think you were pretty no matter what."

Rose giggled, and the small shadow on her face disappeared. She got up and Ron followed suit, holding her hand and heading for the door. The door at the end of the landing was ajar and Ron pointed to it curiously.

"What's in there?" he asked, and Rose smiled, tugging his hand as she led the way over. Ron followed willingly, and pushed the door open when they got there.

"It's daddy's study," Rose announced, "Daddy works here at night when I'm in bed. That's the rule."

Ron smiled and looked around. The room was smaller than the bathroom, and all the walls had bookcases, with what Ron recognised as Harry's university books. There was a machine whirring softly in the corner of the desk that was built beneath the window, and another that sat silent opposite it. There was a chair on wheels, and the blue carpet from the landing was extended to this room as well. Ron wriggled his eyebrows at his niece and they shut the door behind them.

Hermione was sitting on the coffee table, talking to Harry, who was now awake. She'd left her hair down after her shower, and looked a lot calmer. Rose went to hug her, and told her she smelt a lot better now. Ron laughed, and Harry smiled, though he was saved a lecture when Hermione agreed.

"You'd better go get pretty, mate," Ron gestured up the stairs, "Mum is expecting us in ten minutes."

"Shall do," Harry got up and patted Ron's arm on the way past in a friendly hello, while Hermione helped Rose put her cardigan on and listened to her chatter about her day.

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