School: Ilvermorny Year 4

Theme: Write about something hidden in plain sight

Main prompt: [Pairing] A pair with less than 30 fics written on [Kromione, 3 pairings on ]

Additional prompt: [Object] Magic Feather

WC: 1389

Note: Post-War AU, Everybody Lives, Established Kromione

The feather is startling out of place amongst the comfortable familiarity of the Burrow. Ron's gaze lands on it, burning green afterimages indenting every blink, before he looks away.

Then, back again.

"Hullo?" His call goes unanswered as Ron ducks to step out of the fireplace, his hair brushing against the stonework, coming away grey with ash.

The sitting room is a jumble of different personalities, a mixture that had only gotten concentrated with every new addition to the family. Viktor, although not married to himself or Hermione, has left his own mark on the scene with his Quidditch jersey thrown over the back of an armchair. Ron shrugs his coat off, his hand lingering on the carefully sewn patch on the lining before he places it down.

His gaze returns to the feather.

It is a slick green but it hasn't stirred in the breeze generated by his movement, or in the cool breath of air from the open window in the kitchen. The air is heavy with the scent of baking bread and something sweeter beneath it like a bite of a strawberry beneath the cream. It shouldn't intrigue him so much. There are far more interesting things in the room as Ron's focus is diverted by the appearance of Hermione in the doorway.

Her hair is pinned up but curls are already beginning to spring free and are plastered to her forehead. Her cheeks are pink, highlighting the summer freckles that have begun to bloom there. Ron smiles warmly at gesture is returned in an instant.

She leans forward as if she had been about to walk towards him, the heavy carpet slippers she wears at odds with the floaty purple dress beneath the flour-covered apron. Hermione catches herself, adjusting so that her hip rests against the door-frame. "You're early."

"Yeah, I'd said I would be here at about five-ish." Ron turns, intent on inspecting the heavy grandfather clock to check on his hand, but his gaze lands on the feather once more. "Do you know what that feather is doing here?"

"Hmmm?" Hermione jerks back from where she had been leaning into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed with more than just the latent heat. "Maybe it is from one of the kids? I couldn't say."

She pauses, chewing her lower lip, and there is a curious light in her eyes, a gleam that Ron knows he should be concerned about. The feeling is strangely absent, forgotten as soon as he looks away from her back to the feather.

"I think Viktor is with them if you want to go and ask? Up on the third floor."

"Yeah, sure."

She steps forward, the slippers smacking against the bottom of her feet, and brushes a kiss over his cheek. The scent of jasmine and sugar follows her, enveloping them both like a shawl, and Ron turns to press a kiss to the crown of her head before she disappears back into the kitchen.

Picking up the feather, Ron runs a fingernail along the edge of it. The tines shift with the movement, clinging together before they settle back into alignment once more. The weight is negligible and he twists it as he heads towards the upper floors.

The room where the children are is easy to find; laughter spills from it mixing with delighted shrieks and threads of conversation that only grow in volume as they talk over each other, intent on capturing Viktor's attention. The playroom is still a fairly new addition to the house with the paint neatly maintained in a pale shade of yellow and a border of pastel birds that flutter around the room in response to the shifting volume.

"Hey," Ron calls, running the edge of the feather over his knuckles as several pairs of eyes turn to him, and Viktor breaks into a grin. He tugs a sheet of plain paper towards himself, placing it over the brightly coloured piece in front of him before he stands.

"Hello. You have seen Hermione?" Viktor picks his way over to Ron, his brow furrowed in concentration, and Ron reaches for him with one hand, letting the other man use him as support. Where Ron is stretched thin, Viktor is compact and he has to tip his head back slightly to hook his hand around the back of Ron's neck to pull him down for a kiss.

Viktor's huff of laughter is almost lost amongst the expected chorus of disapproval from the nieces and nephews.

Ron answers into the scant space between them. "Yeah, she's downstairs. Do you know anything about this?"

He raises his free hand with the feather, his gaze shifting to the assembled children who are watching him intently. A shiver runs down his spine, an innate prey instinct warring with his Auror training at the sight of so many expectant eyes.

The feather gleams in the light from the window bringing a burst of greens and purples clustering along the delicate strands like the oil that would leak from the Ford Anglia before it had made its bid for freedom.

"It is a—" Viktor pauses, clicking his tongue as he thinks. His dark eyes wander as he thinks, tracking the twist of the thought in his mind. "A— a feather, yes?"

"Yeah. Is it yours? Or one of yours?" Ron directs the second question towards the horde of children and is met with giggles.

"It's Uncle Fred's. He's outside with the others," Molly informs him after a few moments, her voice so eerily like Percy's that it is all he can do to stare at her before nodding.

"Do you need rescuing from the terrors?" Ron asks, careful to keep his voice low even as his thoughts drift back downstairs and out into the garden.

He couldn't say why the feather has been so compelling but he needs to find out more about it.

"We will head down with you."

It is a strange situation and not one Ron had ever thought he would find himself in. He holds the feather carefully as the children flow past him, their shrieks and squeals filling the air as they charge into the garden. Viktor follows them, lightly tapping Ron with his shoulder as he passes with Harry's newest baby on his hip. In his wildest dreams back at Hogwarts, Ron would have never considered the possibility that Krum would have been into him, let alone Hermione being interested. The concept of all three of them in a relationship had seemed impossible and yet…

Today was already a good day and having both of them by his side is better still.

The kitchen is empty and warm, the stove sitting squat and cluttered with pots that hadn't migrated to the steaming soapy water of the sink. Ron presses the back door open and steps out into the evening sunset—

"Surprise! Congratulations!"

Everything is light and warmth as Ron stares out over the beaming faces of his gathered family, clustered beneath enchanted glittering letters that read 'Congratulations!'

"I didn't know that you all knew," Ron says, stunned and overwhelmed at the same time. The promotion had been a certainty, a simple matter of paperwork finally catching up to what Ron had been doing for so many months, and it hadn't seemed important enough to mention it.

Hermione has clearly had other ideas.

"How did you manage this?" Ron asks her, drawing her into a kiss as soon as he can reach her.

"You are not the most observant man in the world. And Fred and George helped—"

"Newest product," one of the twins piped up from his left.

"Unnamed at the moment," the other joins in, plucking the feather from his hand and Ron turns, trying to grab at it but—

"Aperi Cogitatus."

"Bloody hell." Ron shakes his head, feeling the magical influence slide free from his thoughts like a dog shaking off water. "What is that?"

"Magical feather. It's intended for distractions but—"

"Needs a little tweaking. It worked fine here though."

The twins dart away before Ron can swipe at them, concealing themselves amongst the sea of red hair.

"There is cake, and the children decorated cards," Viktor says, rejoining Ron and Hermione, newly free of additional hanger-ons. "You did not notice. It is a good surprise?"

"The very best."