Mrs.Weasley was in the kitchen, cooking while the dishes washed themselves. Trying to keep her mind off the obvious, just making sausages.
Harry Potter was in the den, once again admiring the magic of the Weasely household. He had hesitated coming here, thinking that maybe he would feel uncomfortable if he were around people who actually cared for him.
Afraid that they too would leave him forever. But Harry couldn't be afraid anymore, he had other things to worry about. He would not let himself forget about the Horcruxes, the night of Dumbledore's death, and the tingling pity he felt for his enemies, mostly, Draco.
Harry was torn away from the self-knitting clothes, from brisk, motherly voice.
"Harry, love, would you mind grabbing the broom? The floor is in desperate need of sweeping."
"Sure, Mrs.Weasely. Where is it?"
"In the cupboard, dear, up the stairs, to your right"
Harry made his journey up the stairs, going past the Twin's room, remembering the many explosions and noises coming from there, just two summers ago.
He spotted the cupboard, right by a table holding up a vase of lilies.
Harry's hand reached the doorknob, when suddenly Ron and Hermione stumbled out of it.
Ron's hair was a mess, and Hermione looked quite red at the sight of Harry.
"…I told you Hermione, to not put your luggage in there, it's STRICTLY for supplies!" said Ron, whose ears just turned bright pink.
Hermione glared at Ron, but then turned away, turning more red by the second.
