My beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.

Chapter 63: The Records

City of Westminster, London, Wizarding World, February 27th, 2006

"This is odd, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. It's an old spell - an old ward. Powerful. But it's rather… simple."

"Yes. Why would you cast a ward using such a simple spell? All the power it accumulates over time will be useless since it can be easily circumvented."

"Yes. So… trap?"

"That would be the logical conclusion, wouldn't it?"

"It would. But I haven't found any sign of the trap, yet."

"That means it's been expertly hidden."

"Yes. This might be trickier than we thought."

No shit, Ron thought as he listened to the twins' discussion. Of course it was a trap - it was the oldest trick in the book: an easy trap hiding a more difficult - and more lethal - trap. A dumb intruder would grow overconfident after dealing with the first trap and run straight into the real trap. Moody had given a few examples in training.

He tapped his radio. "We've encountered a ward," he told Hermione. "The twins are on it, but it's harder than expected."

"A ward? Inside the building?" Hermione asked.

"In the tunnel leading to the archives," he confirmed. "It's a simple spell, though, so it must be hiding another spell - or a curse."

"And whoever cast it was good," wizarding Fred interrupted. "We still haven't found even a trace of the curse."

"Alright," Hermione said. "Be careful. But don't take too long, either - we don't have unlimited time, and you don't want to be stuck in a ward if anyone notices you."

"We've done this before, you know," wizarding George told her, his voice slightly tight. Not quite snapping at Hermione, but close.

The other spell must be hidden very well if tempers were rising already - the twins, at least Ron's brothers, usually tried to appear amused and above petty concerns at all times. He cleared his throat. "Just do your job; we'll have your back."

"And our front and other body parts all over you, if we botch this up," wizarding Fred replied - with forced and utterly out of place cheerfulness.

However, that was normal for him, or so Ron assumed. Which hopefully meant that things weren't hopeless.

He looked at Harry, who was guarding their rear. His friend was tense. "We've got two hours until the next scheduled patrol," he told Harry.

"I know." His friend clenched his teeth. "And we can't be seen, or they'll check the archives thoroughly afterwards for any signs of manipulation."

Disillusionment Charms would hide them, and if they were still detected, Stunners and Obliviation could deal with the guards, but Ron would prefer to avoid using either. In and out without being seen was the goal - provided the twins could find the magical trap.

Hell, it felt like one of the more stupid D&D campaigns, with the Killer DM who wouldn't accept dice rolls for finding traps. Sometimes they had spent hours describing how their characters would search for traps. Once they had spent hours and there hadn't been a trap at all.

He blinked. What if that was the case here as well? One obvious trap, to get the morons - and make the smarter intruders suspect another trap, stalling them as they looked for it, probably for longer than dealing with an actual trap would have taken…

"Mates, what if there is no second spell?" he asked.

"What would be the point?" wizarding Fred replied. His brother was too busy, apparently, to answer - or even react.

Ron told him.

But the wizard shook his head. "That would only make sense if there were regular patrols who'd notice magical intruders. And I don't think the Ministry would waste Aurors or Hit-Wizards on such a task."

"If they did, I would be very cross," Hermione commented over the radio. "No resources to abolish Azkaban, but enough trained wizards to regularly patrol muggle archives?"

Ron bit on his lip - he knew that making a joke about the Ministry valuing paperwork more than lives wouldn't be appreciated by anyone. Well, perhaps the twins.

So all they could do was to wait and hope the twins didn't screw things up.

Who would've thought that breaking into a government archive could be as boring as filling out paperwork?

An hour later, the twins hadn't made any progress. They hadn't found even the slightest trace of a second spell, much less a second ward. And they were starting to run out of time - well, not yet, but their safety margin was being eroded.

Ron shook his head. "Mates, you haven't found anything. Let's try a walking trap detector."

"A what?" wizarding Fred asked.

"Conjure a pig or something, and have it walk down the hallway," Harry explained.

"That would trigger a trap - or an alert."

"If there is one," Ron told him. "We can't spend forever here, watching you look for something that might not exist." And whoever would have thought that seeing Ron's most annoying brothers, or at least their magical counterparts, stumped and frustrated wouldn't be amusing?

"I concur," Hermione said before the twins could reply. "We have to risk it."

"It's on your heads!" wizarding Fred complained. But he complied - as soon as his brother had finished his latest attempt to analyse the ward, the wizard waved his wand, and a large pig appeared.

The conjured animal started walking down the hallway and reached the door to the archives without anything happening at all.

Ron managed to control himself and didn't tell everyone that he had told them so, but he was grinning widely as they all approached the door. A door which wasn't, as the twins confirmed, magically protected. "This doesn't make any sense!" wizarding Fred protested. "A detection charm - a ward! Decades old! - in a maintenance tunnel, but no protection on the actual door leading to the archives? Who thought this was a good idea? The Quibbler?"

"Hey!" Ron snapped.

"Sorry. But this is… it's insane, that's what it is!" the wizard went on. "Who would create a ward with just a detection charm and no other spells?"

"Someone who really wanted to know who went through this tunnel?" his brother asked.

"We're on a mission," Harry told them. "You can speculate later about the motives of whoever cast this decades ago; now we need to get in and change the records."

"And get rid of the pig," Ron added, nodding at the animal. It wasn't acting like an animal at all, standing perfectly still, but it was completely out of place here anyway. Now, if this were the basement of Parliament…

Grumbling, wizarding Fred vanished the pig while his brother unlocked the door with another spell.

"Alright," Ron told them. "Harry's on the computer, George and I will take care of the physical records and Fred's on lookout duty." Just as planned. He turned and walked towards the section Dumbledore had marked on the floor plans without waiting for an answer. They were on the clock. "We're in," he told Hermione over the radio.

The records they needed were recent - more or less - compared to the really ancient stuff in the archives - which were probably old enough to qualify for a museum - but he still had to walk past a considerable number of shelves.

"It's almost as large as the Prophecy Room in the Department of Mysteries," wizarding George commented. "Just with paper instead of spheres."

"Spheres?"

"Yes. They hold prophecies."

Ron glanced at the wizard, and his brother's counterpart shrugged. "It wasn't my idea. Someone probably thought it was the perfect solution for storing prophecies. Or there wasn't a better way to record them at the time, and no one bothered to change the system after better ways were developed."

Ron snorted - that sounded like what the British government would do, alright. His father complained about hidebound traditionalists often enough. "This is just one floor," he told wizarding George, "there are several more below us."

"Wow. And I thought our Ministry loved paperwork."

Ron snorted again. But before he could reply, they reached their destination. "Here we are - London birth records."

"But we're from Devon."

"Your branch of the family is. My completely fictive branch obviously moved to London at the start of the twentieth century." Which church records in Ottery St Catchpole would confirm once the Lunas finished altering them.

"Ah. No spells, by the way."

"Good." That would've been a nasty surprise, finding spells on the archives here. "Let's do it, then."

"Yes, yes. Just like we practised."

Ron suppressed a grin. Wizarding George might complain, but proper training prevented debacles. He'd rather not have his records spontaneously combust or turn into a rat after a day or two or something - something not entirely out of the question in light of some of Hermione's tales from her classes at Hogwarts.

He sorted through the files - everything seemed in order. It wouldn't do to replace the file and misfile it at the same time. Then he pulled out the first register he needed. "Alter this one."

While wizarding George worked, Ron went after the next set of records. His fake identity needed a complete and convincing paper trail, back to his grandparents, after all.

They had about fifteen minutes left before the next guard patrol was scheduled when they finally finished and returned to the exit, where Harry and wizarding Fred were already waiting.

"Got it!" the wizard announced as soon as they reached him.

"What?" Ron asked. "And not so loud, please."

"I know what was up with the ward," wizarding Fred explained. "Someone needed to catch an intruder, but didn't know when they would make their move, so they installed a ward to alert them and then never bothered to remove it!"

Had he spent the entire time pondering that instead of keeping an eye out for trouble?

"And why would they not simply cast the spell instead of creating a ward? Were they planning to be ready to intervene for years on end?" wizarding George retorted.

"The question should be: Why are we wasting time here instead of moving?" Harry snapped. "Let's go!"

"Oh, alright, let's go." Instead of opening the door, wizarding Fred reached for their hands.

"No!" Harry shook his head. "We'll leave as we came - as planned."

Without magic. Ron wasn't entirely sure how long traces of spells remained, but it was best to minimise the risk.

They made it out without trouble - which was a little suspicious, Ron had to admit. On the other hand, they had all the floor plans and schedules they needed, and the guards weren't exactly alert. And since it was a Sunday, few, if any, civilians were out and about in the building. Or nearby. But Moody had taught them that you were the most vulnerable once you thought you were done with a mission.

Still, Ron couldn't help expecting an ambush at every corner as they walked back to the flat they were using as a base. But nobody attacked them. And Ron couldn't spot any attempts to follow them, either.

Very suspicious, indeed. What would Moody do in this situation? The old police officer would probably create a diversion to escape - or force the observers to reveal themselves. The latter was not a good idea - drawing attention was the last thing they wanted - and they'd escape as soon as they were reunited with Hermione, who was waiting for them in the flat.

As they entered the house, Ron clenched his teeth. He almost wanted to be attacked, just to break the tension. Almost.

"There you are!" Hermione greeted them, her beaded bag hidden inside a plastic bag which she had thrown over her shoulder.

"Where else would we be?" Wizarding Fred snorted. "Not even an age-old mystery was enough to stop us!"

She rolled her eyes at his boasting. "It was enough to almost stop you."

"Almost catching the Snitch or Quaffle doesn't count," the wizard replied.

"Mission accomplished," Ron reported. "Once the Lunas have altered the records in Ottery St Catchpole, my new identity will be perfect."

"They finished - and without getting stalled, despite some rather interesting spells in the village church," Hermione told him.

"Interesting spells?" George asked. "Do tell!"

"I don't have details, but it seems that we aren't the first wizards and witches to alter muggle records with magic." Hermione flashed a toothy smile. "And guess who're the main suspects?"

"It wasn't us!" wizarding Fred protested at once.

"We hadn't considered the potential of such manipulations, to be honest," his brother added. "Although the real challenge is doing the same with Ministry records! Imagine if it came out that certain families never actually owned their land, but stole it from muggles…"

"'I'm certain that that has happened more than once," Hermione said, "and that no one in the Ministry cared."

"Well, times change," wizarding George replied. "And the current Ministry is very different to the old one. If they found traces of a blatant attempt to hide such manipulations..." He grinned.

"The new Ministry is also far better protected than the old one," Hermione pointed out. "Or so I've been told. And we have too many important problems to solve to indulge in pranks."

"Not to mention that all the bigots were dealt with anyway, weren't they?" Ron added. "You'd only hurt a distant relative who didn't have anything to do with the war."

"Based on their voting habits, some of the new Wizengamot members probably only didn't join Voldemort because he wasn't pure enough for them," wizarding George said.

"And it would be a challenge!" Wizarding Fred grinned.

They weren't serious. Probably - Ron wasn't completely sure. "Let's go," he said. "We can discuss things further back home."

"Oh, no wonder you and Hermione got together - you think of her lab as 'home' as well!"

Ron rolled his eyes again. There were definite drawbacks to hiring his family's counterparts.

Black Lake, Scotland, Britain, February 27th, 2006

"You know, the spells on the church register in Ottery St Catchpole…" Wizarding George slowly shook his head as he sat down in an armchair in the lab's lounge.

"Which must have been the work of the Diggory family," his brother interrupted him. "It wasn't our family - we have it from a reliable source that we're the worst delinquents in seven generations, and we didn't do it - and it wasn't the Lovegoods, because, well… you know them."

With the exception of wizarding Luna, Ron actually didn't know them well, but he nodded anyway.

"Anyway!" wizarding George continued. "The spell in the muggle archives… I think we should investigate it."

"That's what I've been saying for hours!" wizarding Fred exclaimed.

"Yes, but I've thought of a good reason for doing so," wizarding George replied.

"Do you suspect a conspiracy?" Hermione looked very sceptical.

"Well… Not quite a conspiracy. But there has to be a reason for it. And since we - now - know how useful such records, properly manipulated, can be, it stands to reason that other wizards will have discovered this before us," wizarding George told her.

"It could just be coincidence. Occam's razor," Hermione said.

"Occam?"

"It means that if you have two competing theories that make exactly the same predictions, the simpler one is the better," Hermione explained.

"Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. The third time it's enemy action," Ron said.

"We only have two points of data," Hermione retorted with a smile. "Coincidence."

"Unless we find a third data thingie!" wizarding Fred piped up.

"That shouldn't be too hard," his brother agreed.

Ron wasn't so sure, but he wouldn't stop them. If they were busy investigating a mystery, they weren't busy doing something more dangerous. And there was another point to consider. "What if the Ministry has copies of the records?" Ron asked. "If they check them for my identity…"

Hermione's eyes widened, but the twins shook their heads. "I've never heard of the Ministry keeping muggle records," wizarding Fred said.

"And Dad's been working for the Ministry for decades - he'd have told us if they had muggle records. You know how he is about all things muggle," wizarding George added with a nod towards Hermione.

"But would he have known about a rarely used archive?" Hermione asked.

"If they have such records, wouldn't they have checked them already after you appeared?" the wizard replied with a glance at Ron.

That was a good point. Although… "Wouldn't have Harry and Ron handled that?" Ron shrugged. "They know the truth, so they would've been able to cover for us."

"Without telling us?" Hermione pursed her lips.

"They might not have wanted to give you another reason to criticise the Ministry," Ron suggested.

"They know better than that!" she insisted.

They hadn't seen her for seven years, though. Ron briefly bit his lower lip.

"We haven't even determined yet whether any copied muggle archives exist in the first place," wizarding Fred said. "Percy hasn't mentioned anything like them, either. And he talks about the thickness of cauldron bottoms for hours if you let him."

"That's actually a very important regulation," Hermione told them. "Defective cauldrons can cause lethal brewing mishaps."

"Getting bored to death can also be fatal," wizarding Fred retorted.

Ron was about to agree, but Hermione's frown had grown more pronounced, so he cleared his throat instead and tried to get the conversation back on track. "Anyway, I think we should just ask your Percy if the Ministry has such an archive."

"He's a stickler for the rules, though family comes first, and you're sort of family. Twice," wizarding George said.

"Twice?" Hermione asked.

"Once for being a Weasley from another dimension, and once for being a sort of in-law, since you're like an honorary Weasley yourself," the wizard explained with a sly grin.

Hermione groaned, but she was smiling. And it was - for Fred and George - endearing. Sort of.

"But we really should first check if there are other muggle archives with spells on them," George said.

"Alright." Hermione nodded. "We don't have to start the bribery right away, anyway."

"And it's always better to check if your cover story is solid before launching an undercover operation," Ron added.

"Constant vigilance!" wizarding Fred exclaimed with a grin.

Black Lake, Scotland, Britain, February 28th, 2006

"So, we've got good news and bad news," wizarding George said. "Which do you want to hear first?"

"Start with the good news, please," Dumbledore replied. "I assume we will have to focus on the bad news, so it's best to get the good news out of the way."

"Alright! The good news is: The Ministry doesn't care about muggle records," the wizard told them. "So there are no hidden or secret copied archives."

"Also, Percy was really annoyed at being woken up early in the morning for an emergency," his brother added with a grin. "That's also good news!"

Ron chuckled - he could imagine that.

"The bad news is, we're definitely not the first wizards to meddle with muggle records," wizarding George said with a sigh. "We've checked a number of church records and we've found three more warded ones."

"Coincidentally, all of the spelled records were related to old wizarding families, often dating back to the time before the Statute of Secrecy," wizarding Fred added.

"They've been adding people to families. Or removing them," Hermione said.

"That's our conclusion as well," wizarding George replied. "Remove all records of squibs. Or the family members who married below their station."

"Or pick an old family and create a cadet branch - either through a 'squib line' or by claiming they emigrated generations ago - and then return to reclaim your family heritage," Hermione said.

Ron assumed she had considered that herself, at least hypothetically.

"Both are likely explanations, though some of those spells might have been cast to prevent such shenanigans," Dumbledore told them. "However, this poses a problem for our plan." His smile turned rather wry. "The Ministry might not care, but if such behaviour is or was common, then Gringotts might have developed procedures to deal with fraudulent claims against them."

"And they could sell us out if they realise we're using a fake identity," Ron said. "Worse, they might wonder why we're using a fake identity for me, since I should have one already, and investigate."

"Indeed." Dumbledore's usually jovial expression turned serious as he spoke. "We should, therefore, verify whether or not the goblins have access to such records before we embark on our own operation."

"That could be tricky," wizarding George said. "Very few people have ever managed to successfully break into Gringotts. In fact, we only know of two of them - Voldemort and our very own Hermione, Harry and Ron. Our Ron. And it's debatable whether or not Voldemort counts since he didn't get what he wanted."

"I think my involvement in the - completely justified - break-in won't help matters. The goblins will have fixed the hole in Gringotts' security that we used to break in," Hermione pointed out, smiling ruefully. "Should we plan to approach them about this, then we shouldn't mention my involvement; it will only serve to antagonise them."

"Do they value revenge over profit, then?" Dumbledore asked.

"They prefer to make a profit and get their revenge, but… it's hard to say which they'd favour if they had to choose," she replied. "Gringotts lost a lot of face over our actions - they prided themselves on having perfect security, and we certainly damaged that reputation. Repairing the damage we caused by letting a dragon rampage through the bank must also have been expensive."

"I see." Dumbledore nodded. "How, if I may ask, did you bypass their security?"

"We combined Polyjuice Potion with muggle disguises," Hermione told him. "That way, I looked the part at the entrance, and when the potion's effect was cancelled by the Thief's Downfall - a goblin invention - I didn't change in a noticeable way."

"How did you manage that?" Harry asked.

"We were fortunate that I was very close in height to my target, Bellatrix Lestrange. A veil and some padding did the rest, combined with specially cut clothes." Hermione grimaced a little. "It was still a close call, though - it didn't fool the protections inside the vault, and even though we overcame them, that tipped off the guards."

"A sticky situation, indeed. But you managed to escape - a feat few could have duplicated, I imagine." Dumbledore smiled widely.

"We were lucky that the goblins used maltreated dragons for security," she replied. "And it was extremely close even so."

"Muggle disguises… why hasn't anyone else tried that?" wizarding Fred wondered aloud.

"It was only recently - relatively - that Muggle disguises reached a level of sophistication which would allow them to pass a goblin inspection," Hermione explained.

"I guess they've also developed counters to shrunken intruders," Ron said.

"Yes. There are ways around it - but all of them require at least one person to pass the goblin identification checks," Hermione told them.

"Then it looks like we'll have to use the human element. Or goblin, in this case," Dumbledore said. He was smiling widely. "I'm looking forward to the challenge of turning a goblin."

"You want to bribe a goblin?" Wizarding Fred shook his head. "That won't work. They'll take your money, and then they'll sell you out to their superiors. And get a promotion in the process for foiling a wizard trying to rob Gringotts."

"I'm quite familiar with that particular danger. In my old business, every attempt to turn an enemy risked getting fooled by - or creating - a double agent. Nevertheless, I was successful more often than not. However, I've never done this with a goblin." Dumbledore beamed at them.

"You've never dealt with a goblin, have you?" wizarding George asked.

"No, I haven't. But that is easily rectified," Dumbledore said.

"If Dumbledore's long-lost twin brother appears, the goblins will assume something weird is going on," Ron pointed out. That would be counterproductive.

"Indeed. Fortunately, they won't meet a Dumbledore."

Diagon Alley, London, Wizarding World, March 1st, 2006

Gringotts did look very impressive. Wide stairs leading up to a front made of white marble, massive pillars decorating it, a gate that looked solid enough to stop a tank and armoured goblins guarding all the entrances.

And those were just the visible parts. According to Hermione and the wizarding twins, the building's wards were amongst the strongest in the country - and older than Wizarding Britain itself, only beaten, although soundly, by those of Hogwarts.

And even though the guards were wearing medieval-style armour and weapons, they looked rather impressive as well. "Goblins in half-plate," he muttered, "with polearms. If I'd brought this up in a game, you'd have called me a fool."

Harry, standing next to him, snorted. "We aren't playing games."

"Dumbledore might not know that," Ron said, watching the old man, disguised, walk up the stairs, in the company of Rosengarten. "He sounded like this was all a game to him."

"Well, he's risking his own neck, not ours," Harry replied.

Though Ron was convinced that if he and the others didn't have to stay out of Gringotts for a variety of reasons, they would likely be with Dumbledore at this moment.

As it was, Harry, Hermione and Ron himself were, in disguise, supposed to be the reserve element of this operation. Not that he thought that their chances of successfully intervening if Dumbledore got into trouble with the goblins were good - unless an altercation happened on the stairs, they would have to break into the bank to reach the old man, and that was a quite tall order for two muggles and one witch, no matter their combat experience.

On the other hand, it wasn't as if Dumbledore was trying anything dangerous - this was just the first contact, so to speak. And the old spymaster would be playing it straight - a squib, recently emigrated from America, looking to sell some 'family heirlooms', which the goblins would assume to have been looted in the last war on the East Coast. Nothing dangerous at all. Just a business transaction. And if he sold low enough, the goblins would be looking forward to his next visit.

But a good police officer always worried, even about things out of their control. Goblins weren't humans and would have a vastly different culture, and Dumbledore might be a little too smug or optimistic. Unlikely, but not impossible.

He felt a hand grip his own and suddenly realised that he had been staring at the bank in silence for a while. "Thanks," he whispered, smiling at Hermione.

She nodded in return. "They'll be alright. They have no known connection to me, and the goblins don't have a reason to suspect anything."

Well, she had experience with the goblins, so he was inclined to believe her. "Unless they think they'll make a net profit, all things considered, if they simply take all his 'wares', then claim he was trying to rob them. Since he's posing as a foreigner, they might be tempted to go for the short-term profit," Harry said.

"I trust Mr Dumbledore to convince the goblins that there's more profit for them if they work with him," Hermione retorted. "Assuming otherwise is mere speculation."

"He asked us to form a reserve in case something goes wrong," Harry told her. "He wouldn't have done that if he were convinced everything would go smoothly."

"He's covering all the bases," Hermione snapped.

"Or he just wants to know what we'll be doing so we don't ruin any of his other plans," Ron pointed out.

"Then we'd have Fred and George's counterparts here," Harry told him.

"They would ruin his plans out of sheer boredom," Ron shot back with a grin.

"They've matured a great deal, in my opinion," Hermione cut in. "I think their attitude is mostly an act now. They're businessmen, married and have a daughter."

Ron frowned. He wouldn't agree with that assessment - his own brothers certainly hadn't matured much. Although Hermione had a good point - having a family would have changed their counterparts. That, and the war they had lived through. Ron's brothers hadn't gone through anything like that.

"It doesn't really matter if they are genuine or putting on an act if they mess up," Harry said.

"They fought in the war; they wouldn't fool around on a mission," Hermione replied.

"Unless they thought it would be harmless?" Ron smiled wryly. His brothers weren't stupid, but a few of their mistakes had been dangerous. Like producing fireworks at home. Fortunately, the fire hadn't spread.

Hermione pressed her lips together and frowned at him. "They know that they can't underestimate the goblins. And neither can we."

There was no danger of that. Ron wasn't about to underestimate a magical species, whether or not they were allowed to wield wands.

Black Lake, Scotland, Britain, March 1st, 2006

"...and the goblin, Mr Grimclaw, was most eager," Dumbledore told them with a sly smile in the briefing room in the lab. "Of course, his first offer was about a tenth of the worth of our 'heirlooms' - which is, even for a fence buying stolen goods, rather low - and we had to haggle quite passionately. I do believe I've impressed him, at least a little."

"Never show weakness to a goblin," wizarding Fred said. "That's what Dad always told us. That, and 'never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain'."

"That wasn't quite as useful as far as advice goes," wizarding George commented. "Though Mum's reaction when we removed all the mirrors from The Burrow was funny."

"Not as funny as Ginny's, though," his brother added. "Of course, that was before…"

"Yes," Hermione snapped, glaring at both of them. "And entirely beside the point."

"Quite," Dumbledore agreed. "I will visit the bank again in a few days, to sell more 'heirlooms', and I will see if I can ask about record keeping as well."

"As long as you don't give them ideas about manipulating records themselves," Rosengarten added. "That would be… problematic."

"I would imagine so, yes." Dumbledore smiled. "And while that might spur the Ministry to protect the records, it would hamper our own efforts." He inclined his head. "In any case, things are, so far, proceeding according to plan."

Ron really wanted to tell the old man that he had just jinxed them. And on Ron's birthday, too.

The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, Britain, Wizarding World, March 1st, 2006

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Ro-ons, happy birthday to you!"

Ron leaned forward with his counterpart, and they managed to blow out all the candles on the cake.

Of course, the twins had replaced half of the candles with joke candles that re-ignited as soon as they were out, but that was to be expected. Wizarding Ron cancelled them with a wave of his wand and Mrs Weasley scolded her sons.

And Hermione looked like she wanted to scold them as well.

"Not going to, ah, hex them?" Ron asked her, sotto voce.

She shook her head. "It would only encourage them, and it would be rude to do so in The Burrow. It's not my home, after all."

"So you'd do it at the lab?"

She snorted. "You're almost as bad as they are."

"I grew up with their counterparts." He shrugged with a grin. "Even Percy can hold his own against them in a verbal spar." Otherwise, Ron's brother would probably have gone mad.

"Ah." She nodded again. "Would you have preferred to celebrate your birthday at home?"

"I've celebrated most of my birthdays at home," he replied.

"That's not an answer to my question." She was frowning a little.

Busted. "No, it's not," he admitted. "But I don't mind celebrating my birthday here." Not really. "I couldn't go flying back home, could I?" He grinned.

"Well… if I disillusioned you, or if you used an Invisibility Cloak, you could. We've got the brooms."

"That's true. But I'd miss out on watching someone else's home being overrun and descending into chaos." He nodded towards the cake, which was under assault by half a dozen kids - well, five: Roger, Victoire, James, Jean and Beatrice - while Mrs Weasley valiantly tried to uphold tradition. "You can't cut it before the birthday boys have had the first slice!"

Uh oh. "Ron!" "Uncle Ron!" "Dad!" "You need to eat!" "We're starving!" "Don't forget the muggle Ron. We need both eating!" "Can't Dad just take two slices?" "That's not how it works!" "Please, Mr Ron!"

"Ron! What are you doing?"

"Luna?" Ron turned his head and saw that both Lunas, his own in a rather thin disguise, were glaring at him.

"I can tell you what he isn't doing: cutting the cake!" Luna said. "And unless you're currently busy saving the world, you've got no excuse for failing to do your duty and cutting the cake!"

Since wizarding Luna was twirling her wand between her fingers, it was probably - despite the 'no hexing inside' rule - safer to get on with it. Getting between Luna and pudding was never a good idea, and Ron didn't trust the various kids too much, either.

As soon as he and his counterpart had had their slices - Hermione insisted on testing them for pranks, though she didn't find anything - the kids all but climbed over each other to be next in line. Which quickly developed into a row, which kept the kids from getting any cake for a few more minutes.

Ron valiantly resisted the temptation to get another slice before the kids were sorted out by a rather loud Mrs Weasley. His counterpart didn't, he noted, which started a round of complaining, protesting and whining that only stopped once every kid had their share of cake.

And then the adults could enjoy their cake as well.

"It's remarkable," Ron commented as he finished his slice.

"Hmm?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Even with all the magic being thrown around," he explained, "it feels a lot like home. Actually, the biggest difference isn't the magic, but the kids."

"Ah, yes. None of your siblings has any children yet." Hermione looked pensive. "It's actually quite common for wizards to have kids early. At least in Britain."

"Ah. And it's different at home."

"Yes." She nodded. "Of course, witches who want to focus entirely on raising a family aren't the norm here, either." Her glance towards Lavender left no doubt that she didn't consider that a good life choice.

Ron nodded, even though he didn't entirely agree with her - raising kids who could accidentally curse you was a little more demanding than raising kids who, at worst, might accidentally set their room on fire. Granted, Hermione had told him that accidental magic was almost never actually dangerous - but that didn't mean it would never happen.

Still, looking at the Potter twins charming Mrs Weasley out of a third slice of cake, and Beatrice chatting animatedly with the Lunas, Ron couldn't help wondering if he'd ever have a kid or two of his own. And if they'd be a wizard or witch. And if he judged Harry and Ginny's expression correctly - with their disguises, it was a little difficult - he wasn't the only one wondering. Although… "Where are Roger and Victoire?"

Hermione looked around. "They were just here… I'd expect them to be asking for another serving of cake. That, or…"

A whooping noise from outside interrupted her, followed by Mrs Weasley yelling: "Roger! Victoire! Both of you get down at once! How did you get into the shed, anyway?"

Beatrice looked a little guilty, as did her fathers, but Ron wasn't sure if anyone other than Harry and himself had caught that.

Well, it wouldn't be a Weasley celebration without some excitement. "Want to go flying now?" he asked.

"I think that's a good idea," Hermione replied before looking surprised for some reason.

"Come on! Let's fly!"

She didn't want to straddle the broom and fly. And not just because the broom Ron had handed her was old and, therefore, more likely to have defective enchantments. No, soaring in the sky sounded great - until you remembered that all that kept you from falling to your death were your hands and thighs gripping a thin shaft of wood.

She blushed. That sounded almost like some of the passages in those romance novels she didn't read, but she was thinking about an actual broom. Not some… euphemism. "I don't feel like it," she said, raising her chin.

"Are you sick?"

"What? No! I just don't feel like flying today!" Or any day until she learned a spell to keep herself from falling to her death.

"Why not? The weather's great, the wind's a gentle breeze and Ginny isn't here to annoy us!"

"It's just… I don't feel like it!" she insisted.

"But…" He frowned, then his eyes widened. "Are you afraid of flying?"

"No, I'm not!" she spat. She was merely appropriately cautious. "I took all my flying lessons last year, didn't I?"

"Well, yes, but the point of those lessons is that, afterwards, you can fly! And try out for the Quidditch team!" He beamed at her. "Think of it as an exam! You wouldn't want me to beat you in a test, would you?"

As if she cared about getting beaten at broom flying! But to be thought a coward or unable to fly? That would hurt.

Gritting her teeth, she nodded. "Let's go flying."