A week passed in lazy Burrow-time, but with enough activity to keep Harry occupied at almost every moment. Ginny fretted about the bridesmaids' dresses (Hermione and her friend Jenny – he had her name committed to memory now – were playing those parts), and waited anxiously for news from London about her own gown. She was having it made, and no matter how many times he reassured her, she still refused to believe that it would turn out exactly as she'd hoped.

Saying that he didn't care what she wore didn't help either.

He and Ron got in a spot of loafing whenever they could. They didn't discuss Hermione and Richard. Every time the subject came up in Harry's mind, he somehow couldn't voice his thoughts, and besides, they seemed alright now. It was easier on both of them to just stay mum and pretend he didn't know what was happening.

Mrs Weasley still hadn't said anything about he and Ginny staying in the same room, for which Harry was supremely grateful. He wasn't sure if it was because they were engaged – well, he knew it was because they were engaged – but he understood that it was a step forward. He did his best to keep all notion of he and Ginny sleeping together completely out of Mrs Weasley's way. After a severely embarrassing day two summers ago, he didn't want to risk this new-found freedom.

Or semi-freedom. She was still libel to walk in whenever she liked, completely unannounced.

The twins had stayed, and came downstairs on the last day of the week, announcing that it was time to de-gnome the garden. They'd been spending an awful amount of time in their room lately, and had been suspiciously quiet. A speckled grey owl arrived frequently for Fred (Angelina's bird?), but Harry had only seen him scribble one note: "Away on Business. XO."

He hoped that wasn't the only news he'd sent Angelina. Ginny would hit him over the head if he ever treated her that way.

So they're gung-ho approach to what was usually a tedious chore, Harry thought, was a bit odd, after their withdrawal this week.

"Come on, Mum wants this done before dinner," George said loudly, he and his twin hustling Ron, Hermione and Ginny out the kitchen door. A few gnomes went running on fat legs across the lawn, and Fred set after one with his wand outstretched.

"What's got you so active?" Ginny asked suspiciously, and George rolled his eyes.

"Good Lord, if I have to listen to my brother whine about his girlfriend one more time, I think I'll explode. I'm just happy to have some air."

"Is that what you've been doing upstairs? Whining?"

"That, and other things. Secret things for certain people," George said with a wink, and went chasing after his brother.

If Fred's complaining had gotten George out and about, Harry suspected that Fred was simply taking out some aggression. He was swinging a squealing gnome about his head now, and when he released it, it went flying over the shrubs and out of sight.

"Do we have to?" Ron said faintly, as hundreds of the little devils went leaping from garden bed to garden bed.

"Where did they all come from?" Harry wondered, almost simultaneously.

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other, and then Gin squared her shoulders, and Hermione whipped her wand from her pocket and gave it a warming-up-style twirl.

"Come along, then," she said, and went striding forwards, Ginny at her side, kicking hairy hands away from their ankles.

The boys watched for all of two seconds before they went running after them.

"Girls," Ron said in a mutter. "Never think things through."

"Always rushing in," Harry agreed.

"Think they're OK on their own, but if we weren't here …"

"What are you two muttering about?" Ginny shouted, and Ron and Harry grinned at each other.

"Nothing," Harry shouted back. "We're busy being manly."

"Be manly with a bit more concentration," called Hermione, and they turned to find themselves surrounded by garden gnomes, all with an expression of mingled loathing and fear.

"You take the left," Harry said lowly, "and I'll take the right."

Ron nodded.

And, with a battle cry, they went charging ahead.

~

At some point, Harry was separated from Ron and the others, chasing a particularly devious little beast right into the heart of the Weasley garden. It was surprisingly agile for something with such short legs, and Harry was getting ready to jump on it when he pushed past an old moss-covered tree and found himself facing a small, cosy grove, perhaps three by three metres, and, oddly enough, furnished. There were a couple of children's books, a holey maroon jumper, a cracked hairbrush, a desk with three legs, and a wide green corduroy-covered couch.

It was the weirdest thing. It was like he'd stepped into another world. The walls of the room – it was sort of a room – were made up of plants that had twisted themselves together, screening the area from the rest of the garden. Harry didn't know if that was nature or magic or what, but the temperature was evenly cool (unlike the rest of the garden, where the heat was building) and the spot had a nice feeling to it.

"Hey!" he bellowed, but the shout sounded funny, and he suspected that it hadn't penetrated the green walls. It was sound-proofed and everything?

"Harry!" came a call, and he jumped. Well, he could hear people from within at least. He stuck his head out of the doorway, and shouted again.

"I'm here!"

"Harry?"

It was Ginny. She frowned when she saw him, and then her mouth fell open and she stopped in her tracks.

"Come on," he said, suddenly eager for her to see it too. "Have you seen this place?"

"Merlin …" she breathed, and came forward at a half-run. She halted in the doorway, peered inside under his outstretched arm, and then hugged his middle furiously.

"Harry!" she said, not for the first time, and he nudged her, half-laughing.

"What?"

"This was my and Ron's place when we were kids. Dad put it together for us – I think I was 7 and Ron was 8. Anyway, we played here for ages, a few months, and then Ron decided that we had to keep it hidden from the twins, who were always trying to get in. So he found this old book of Charlie's, and it had this Hiding Spell in it …"

"And he botched it?" Harry cut in wryly. She shrugged.

"We did it together, so I suppose we both botched it. Turns out that with this particular charm, the only people who can find the place are those who don't mean to. So naturally, the next time we came, we couldn't find it. We searched forever, honestly. And whenever someone from the family comes down in this section, they're sort of half-looking for it, out of habit. And now – Harry, you found it – Merlin –"

She seemed ready to cry, but ducked inside and blinked fiercely, examining all the furniture.

"Is it the same?" he asked, coming in behind her, and she nodded.

"Exactly the same. Dad put one of those preservation things on it. If I'd left flowers in here, they'd still be alright."

"Really? What about people?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, what if you'd left Ron in here?"

She burst out laughing and shot him a glance over her shoulder. "I'll tell him you said that."

"I'm not saying it would have been a good thing, I just …"

"I get it. I don't know. Maybe he would have just been able to live here forever. Or maybe he would have stayed an eight-year-old. Pretty dangerous Hiding Charm, wasn't it? Can you imagine if you were trapped here?"

"It'd be sort of like – time had stopped," Harry said quietly, considering this. Ginny turned all the way around to look at him.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "What are you thinking about?"

"That I missed those times. Being little."

"Do you still miss them?"

"No. I like my times at the moment," she said, and grinned, just a bit. She looked beautiful. The light touching her hair through the leaves was green-tinted.

"What are you thinking about now?" she said again, coming closer, and it was his turn to grin.

"I was thinking," he said slowly, putting his hands on her hips as she came within reach, "that maybe we don't have to tell Ron we found this place just yet."

"Oh?"

"It could be handy, once we get that Hiding Charm off it."

"Handy, hey?"

"Handy."

She bit her lip, feigning reluctance. "I suppose it would be."

"You suppose?"

She dropped the act and leant into him. "Our spot, for a while anyway. I like that."

"At least your Mum can't walk in on us here."

"She hasn't yet."

"She's bound to soon."

"Hm. We'll see."

A brief silence, and then Harry spoke over her shoulder.

"Do you think we should – christen our new place, then?"

Another silence, and Ginny's arms went around his waist.

"I think that would be a good idea."

Soon, they were falling onto the old sofa, in a tangle of limbs and laughter and breath.

~

When they were done, the light outside was dimming, but Harry was reluctant to get up. Her weight on top of him was pleasantly heavy, and her hair on her chest was half-tickly, half-soft, and besides going back in would mean they weren't on their own anymore, and getting her on her own was what he liked best right now, no matter how much he loved family.

"We should go in," she murmured, and he couldn't suppress a sigh.

"Right. OK, we'll go in."

"Not that I wouldn't like to stay, Harry," she said, sounding a little amused, "but there's dinner and everything, and you know how Mum worries."

"It's fine. I know."

She tilted her head to look him in the eye. "In six weeks we'll be able to do this whenever," she said softly, in a reassuring kind of way. He replied as firmly as he could.

"It doesn't matter, I mean it. Really."

Ginny smiled slightly. "Love you."

"Love you too."

"D'you know how to get rid of this Hiding Charm business, Mr Defence-Against-The-Dark-Arts-Assistant?"

"Think so. We'll soon see."

They went for their clothes, and then he went for his wand, and pretty soon they'd fixed things so that while it wouldn't be an easy place for just anyone to find, they'd be able to if they put their minds to it. It was a Room of Requirement trick, and he and Malfoy had learnt it the first year they were Assistants.

Sometimes work at Hogwarts could really pay off.

~

After dinner, Ginny set up the kitchen table with paper, quills, and a very high pile of blank invitations. She cajoled Harry into sitting with her, and Hermione joined them. Ron escaped on some pretence or other. The twins were in their room, yet again. Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley were sitting outside, because it was apparently 'too warm not to'. Harry thought that this might be Mr Weasley's oh-so-tactful method of keeping Mrs Weasley away from wedding matters, but forgot about all of that as Ginny picked up her quill and looked expectantly at him.

"What?" he asked, after a long moment, and she sighed impatiently.

"Who's coming?"

"Haven't you already got this list done?"

"I've given verbal invites and all of that, and sort of spread the word around, but I didn't want to do things formally until we were together. So?"

"So?" he repeated, and now both the girls sighed.

"Ask McGonagall and Flitwick and everybody," Hermione suggested. "They'll want to be there."

"Old teachers?" Harry protested, but Ginny was already adding them to her current, quite short list. McGonagall he could understand, she'd been their house teacher, but everyone else?

"The quidditch team," Ginny said, still writing. "And the family."

"How much of the family?" Harry asked, knowing that the Weasleys were quite an extended bunch.

"Just us," Ginny said, to his relief. "Just my brothers and Mum and Dad, and my grandmother who lives in Wales, if she can make it."

"Right. Good."

"Any requests yet Harry?" urged Hermione, and Harry shrugged, rather helplessly.

"Oh, I don't know – Malfoy?"

A tense silence greeted this. Harry looked from Hermione, who was studiously avoiding eye contact, to Ginny, who had her eyebrows raised at him and was biting her lip.

"What's wrong?" he said uneasily, even as he guessed. "Oh come on, you're not still holding a grudge against him?"

"I'm not," Ginny said quickly. "But the boys, and Mum and Dad …"

"Gin, he's my friend, and he'll be offended if I don't send him an invite," Harry said firmly. "Ron and everybody will get over it."

"Alright," she said, shaking her head in defeat. "OK, fine. But if our wedding gets wrecked by my brothers and Malfoy brawling …"

"You can blame it all on me," Harry finished for her. "Go for it."

"You're getting married," Hermione said, a bit tearily, and Ginny grabbed her hand on top of the table and squeezed it.

"I know," she said. "Isn't it mad?"

"It's not at all," Hermione replied, squeezing back. "That's the best part. It's not mad at all."

They all started as a sharp explosion rang out from upstairs. It seemed to have come from Fred and George's room – and they knew it had when George ducked over to the foot of the stairs. His hair and face were black.

"Sorry about that," he said breathlessly. "Bit of a mix-up. Sorry."

He ducked away again, and the three of them looked at each other.

"What are they up to?" Ginny mused. "I haven't heard explosions from their room since they were still at school."

Hermione shook her head. Harry thought of their chat with Mrs Weasley, but said nothing. It wasn't like he knew what was happening anyway. They could be making their mother some washing powder.

OK, if he really thought about it, they probably weren't making her washing powder – but he was sure it wasn't anything to worry about.

They mailed out the invitations that night, including one to Malfoy and one each, against all Harry's arguments, to Ginny's ex-boyfriends, whom he disliked with unreasoning passion.

"I'm only inviting them," she said eventually, "so they can see how happy I am with you."

"Oh," had been Harry's lame reply.

What's a man supposed to say to that?