A/N: I wrote this at the height of my DM/HP obsession, so any slashy-esque moments in here can be blamed on that if you so desire.
"The dining room- we only go in here when the entire Order's in, or sometimes Malfoy insists we eat in here," I explained, passing by the darkened room, Ginny holding my hand. We had left the babies in the suite, after using a handy spell that makes it so we can hear them anywhere in the house.
"It's dark in there," she commented, then turned to look in. I muttered the incantation to turn the lights on. The table and floors were dark wood- the walls were black as well, with a few brightly colored patches here and there. "It's bizarre in there.'
"I know, it was Hermione's room, we thought she needed something to keep her busy," I sighed. Hermione had mostly spent a year in crying jags, desperate and depressed. But when she wasn't doing that, she was positively manic (Malfoy's words, not mine). We had given her the room to do, and she'd focused on it- and only it- for three weeks about ten months ago. "Malfoy won't let me redecorate."
"Why on earth not?" Ginny asked, moving out of the room and turning down the next corridor. "Does this house end, Harry?"
"Eventually," I said, laughing. "There've been weeks we've had over forty people staying here- Malfoy and I once got stuck on the bloody balcony," I smiled at the memory. It had been a few days after the battle in which he'd declared his loyalties- without any sort of approval. And we'd been suitably furious with each other. Tonks had, in an unusually serene way, simply sent us, two sleeping bags and two bottle of firewhisky outside. We woke up friends and never asked why.
He's not Ron, and I know that. I don't want to replace Ron, and I don't think if I did I would fill that space with Draco. He fills a spot that didn't have anyone back at school, the one who can tell me I'm wrong and an idiot without worrying about breaking my heart.
Oh, I'm sure he's broken hearts in his time and cared. Which is why the thought of him and Hermione together doesn't make me want to strangle him. He's not afraid of her, not afraid to break her more, but I am. He knew, when it had never occurred to the rest of us, that what she needed was pain. What she had was suffering. He made her hurt just enough to break her, and then he picked up all the pieces. "Do Malfoy and Hermione share a room?" Ginny asked, spinning through the kitchen, laying a lazy hand on the worn table from Hogwarts that we used.
"They've been together less than a day," I said, laughing. "Give it a week or so."
"A day?" Ginny said, her eyes wide. "Harry, um, darling, you don't get that kind of devotion from a day."
Yeah, she can read him like a book. About Hermione at least, for her, he wears his feelings on his sleeve. Or in his eyes- whichever sounds straighter.
"Well, no," I agreed, "they've been teetering for ages. I was getting to the insane matchmaking plans stage."
"Things have changed, haven't they?" She said, turning to me. We were in the mudroom behind the kitchen- it's all in browns, filled with coats and boots and umbrellas and the paraphernalia of running the Order. "I'll never be used to this." She bit her lip, Ginny shows it when she's nervous, if you know where to look. I know where too look.
"Not everything changes," I said, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. She relaxed back into me. She rested her head on my shoulder, her hair tickling my bare chest.
"You changed," she said, I nodded, and I knew she could feel it.
"We didn't."
"Will, though."
"Yes."
And with that, she's off, back to being bubbly and free and herself. I know this girl- I know that woman. I know all her darkness, all her fears. I know she's afraid of change, of the difference and I know that I am too. But this is family- family is forever.