George's Take

The Burrow

One Day Before the Wedding

In the air

I grinned as Gin cursed, failing to get the Quaffle past yet again past Ron. Fred and I had been virtually forced to admit it a few years before: Ron's Keeping wasn't just good, it was scarily near inhuman - more than good enough to stand up to a Weasley Quidditch reputation started by Charlie, and continued by the two of us. Hell, we could probably make most of the starting line of a great Pro Quidditch team. Charlie and Ron had had innumerable offers, and even Gin, Fred, and I had had a good number. But Charlie had his dragons, we had our joke shop, and even Gin was already a Healer. And Ron? Unknown. I highly suspected that he might actually take up one of the teams on their offer for the next season, for which training would start up in a month or two. Why not? It was everything Ron used to want, after all. His fame and fortune were virtually guaranteed. Of course, Ron was really a celebrity already, much as he would like to deny it, by virtue of his friendship and work with Harry. Every little thing that any of 'The Golden Trio' was going to be plastered all over the headlines. Guaranteed. The three were almost like gods - although to be fair, they had saved the world, really. But the real point was that Ron just hadn't been as focused on fame and fortune these days, even before he got it. He loved Quidditch, but I had been suspecting that he may love other things more.

Harry (who was on extended leave as an Auror) swooped and flipped around as I whacked a Bludger his way, dodging it with an absolutely gaping space left. Damn. Fred and I are clearly a bit rusty, but we're warming up. Unfortunately, it seems everybody else keeps their Quidditch skills close at hand through the years, so we're left behind looking like idiots, thwacking Bludgers into the air. The only things we might be able to hit is ourselves. Embarrassing, really. I'll need to get a few hits in before this ends, though, and with Harry and Charlie - two of the best Seekers to pass into Hogwarts, ever - that could potentially be very short. Of course, it was my job to make sure that if anybody got it, it would damn well be Charlie. I liked the other team on the ground fine, but I'm a competitive man, aren't I? So as far as I'm concerned, at the moment, they can all go to hell.

After dodging two Bludgers Fred had obligingly hit my direction after I had taken another shot at Harry, I figured it was time for me to get a little more involved. Use some tactics, some strategy. But who should I go for? Gin was too small, Harry was too fast, Fred had a bat as well, and Dad was the Keeper - no real point in hitting the Keeper. I decided to go for Ginny anyway.

"YES!" Harry yelled not more than one minute later as he came out of an absolutely spectacular series of aerial acrobatics with Charlie, clutching the fluttering Golden Snitch in his hands. I really should've been watching him more carefully.

Hermione's Take

I heard an exceedingly familiar voice yell in triumph and figured that the Quidditch game was over and Harry, as usual, had grabbed the Snitch. Saving the page in my book, I got up and made my way to the makeshift Quidditch pitch. I loved to read and all, but I had finished this book innumerable times already. It got awfully lonely without Ron, Harry, or Ginny around to talk to, and I, laying aside my work ethic for a bit, had decided to forgo preparations for the wedding for a little while and read an entertaining book. Ron grinned at me as he landed on the ground with slightly windswept hair, and I felt a familiar but still slightly unsettling feeling somewhere in the abdomenal region. He rolled his blue eyes and teased as he saw my reading material.

"Romeo and Juliet again, eh? Feeling a bit gloomy?"

"Romantic, more like, I gather." Harry joined in on the teasing that I dreaded might be going in a direction I most certainly did not want it to go.

"Oh really?" Fred grunted as he landed in unison with George with an ungraceful thud, stumbling slightly.

"And just who might be the object of your affections, Hermione?" George followed. This was precisely the direction that I did not want things to go in! Why did things always happen this way? I wanted to say something, but as numerous options ran through my head, I couldn't figure anything out that would not have a chance at offending Ron in some way, shape or form. Of course, inaction was probably the even worse idea - like I wouldn't want to say anything if Ron was there! Which would mean he would assume it wasn't him! This was a quandary, an inescapable dilemma. Or nearly inescapable, as Ron thankfully proved a moment later.

"Leave her alone," he said brusquely. "I think lunch is on anyway."

I knew no such thing to be true, but the twins, attracted by the thought of food, made a beeline for the house. Harry shot a supremely all-knowing smirk at the two of us as we followed behind, but then went ahead.

"Thanks, Ron," I said, hoping he wouldn't be slighted for me not saying anything. Thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case.

"Oh, no problem," he said, retaining a lopsided smile that was halfway between a smirk and a grin. "But you owe me."

"Oh, I do, do I?" I said haughtily for the purpose of playing along. Was he flirting? "And what precisely do I owe you?"

Ron seemed to be considering something carefully, and now seemed more hesitant. I wasn't exactly sure if I wanted him to do whatever it was hesitating about, as it could be very bad, or very, very good. "Well..." he said. "How about a few dances at the wedding? Plus the last dance."

Oh. He was most definitely flirting with me. I mock sighed. "Well, I suppose I don't have any choice, do I?"

He smiled devilishly, and I felt an embarrassing blush come to my cheeks. "None whatsoever."