Standard disclaimers apply!

I do not own Harry Potter. I have nothing to do with Scholastic, Warner Bros or Bloomsbury. I'm not JKR and I am certainly not making any profit out of this.

SUNDAY

"Ron," Hermione whispered, "Ron, wake up!"

Ron mumbled and burrowed his face deeper into the valley of her breasts.

Fighting back the desire to laugh, she tried again, using her free hand to shake his shoulder gently. "Ron!"

He lifted his head and stared at her through bleary eyes. "Wazzamatter?"

"The alarm just went off," she scratched the back of his head gently, "nearly time for you to go."

"Ommph." He let his head fall back down, but his arm tightened around her and he nuzzled her breasts. "Donwanna."

"I know." And she did know, as her hands roved his shoulders.

He sighed deeply and lifted his head again. "How long?"

"Fifteen minutes," she sighed regretfully, "twenty if we want to push our luck."

"Damn." He pushed himself up until his cheek was touching hers. "That's not long."

"Long enough," she murmured, sliding her hand down his back, "if you want ..."

His low laugh reverberated through her. "What do you think?"

"So why are we still talking?" She giggled. "Get on with it."

"Bossy, aren't you?" He rubbed her cheek with his and dropped a kiss on her jaw. "Just like that?"

"Hmmm." She nodded and shifted one of her legs up slightly. "Don't try and tell me you don't have the goods for it, I can feel it right there."

"I wasn't about to," he chuckled, shifting over her again and settling between her legs, "I'm ready if you are."

"Oh, no need to worry about that," she breathed, "I was dreaming when the alarm ... oh my ..." her fingers dug into his back.

"Fuck!" He groaned loudly. "Tell me ... the dream."

"Not much to tell ... really ... just us, yesterday ..." she wrapped her legs around his hips, "you know ... you were there."

"That I was." Leaning up on his elbows, he sunk his hands into her hair and stoked her temples with his thumbs. "Now, you can tell me how it feels."

"You're going to make me talk? Now?" She shook her head and half-smiled. "You'll have to slow down ... I don't know if we've got enough time."

"C'mon, Hermione," he brushed his lips over her forehead, and slowed his thrusting down to what she thought of as walking pace. "You know I can go in about two minutes given the right conditions ..." he kissed her ear, "we've got enough time for a chat ..."

"Hmmmm, maybe you're right." She smiled softly. "It's different in the morning ..." sighing happily, she slid her hands down his back and squeezed his bum, "like you're ... I don't know ... harder? Or maybe it's that I'm more sensitive, because you're always ... aaahh, that's really good, what was that?"

"Changed angle," Ron grinned, "just a bit ... got this book Fred and George gave me ages ago, with tips and stuff."

"A book?" Hermione laughed quietly. "Do I ever get to see this book?"

"No ... absolutely not," he laughed too. "So I'm harder in the morning then? I'll keep that in mind."

"I don't know if harder is the right way to put it ... just different ..."

He looked vaguely smug. "I take it you're not complaining."

"Merlin no ... morning ... night ... middle of the afternoon ... just before lunch ... it's all incredible."

"Good to know ... it's brilliant on my end too."

"I dream about something else, too," she told him, suddenly shy.

"Hmm?" He looked at her, curious as to what could possibly make her blush when they were in this position.

"I love you, you know ..."

"I know. I love you too ... works out well, doesn't it?"

"Well enough that when I finish with Hogwarts we could ..."

"We could what?"

"Look for somewhere to live ... together?"

"Would you?" His eyes widened in surprise. "That would be ..." and then, "'Mione," he cupped her cheeks in his hands and their foreheads touched briefly. "Yes."

She looked slightly relieved.

"Did you really think I'd say no?" He murmured, somewhat incredulous.

"I don't know," she whispered into his shoulder, smiling against his skin. "It was a possibility."

"Never," nuzzling her neck with his lips and nose, he quickened his pace slightly.

"Had enough talking?" She giggled breathlessly.

"Oh yeah."

*

"Wake up!"

Ron was being prodded in the arm, none to gently.

"Sod off," he grumbled, rolling over and burying his head in the billow. "Too early."

"Touchy," Harry laughed, "get up, you lazy git. It's eight."

"Fine," Ron leaned up on his arms, rubbed his face vigorously and then slowly sat up, grinning at the sight of parchment in Harry's hand. "Letter from Ginny?"

"Letter for Ginny," Harry corrected, "can I borrow Pig?"

"Sure," Ron shrugged, "don't even have to ask, mate. Everything alright? Don't you usually send her something on Sunday night?"

"It's all good," Harry smiled slightly, "she's slightly bored without Hermione at school, so she sent hers early, there's one for you on your desk."

"Ah." Ron yawned and flopped back down on his bed. "Go right ahead. Pig'll be back by tomorrow, I'll send my letters then."

"Thanks," Harry crossed the small room and held out his hand to Pig. "Keep still, you silly animal," he chuckled, attempting to tie the letter onto the owls leg. "Take this to Ginny, and come straight back."

Pigwidgeon hooted happily, flew around their heads twice and then shot out the window.

"So." Harry sat on his bed.

"So?" Ron sat up again.

"A question."

"Fire away."

"Ginny and I have been talking about taking a holiday," Harry said, watching Ron carefully.

"Good for you," Ron nodded. "Why are you telling me?"

"We thought you and Hermione might want to come with us," Harry stated. "Two reasons. Firstly, it would be fun and the four of us don't spend nearly enough time together. Secondly, Ginny thinks that your Mum and Dad will be less likely to object if it's the four of us."

"Oh." Ron looked surprised. "You're right on both counts, sound Hermione out and see what she thinks."

"What do YOU think?" Harry pressed.

"Sounds like a plan," Ron told him. "We've been talking about a couple of weeks away too; Merlin knows by the end of damn year we're going to need a break. But I'm not going to say yes or no without asking Hermione first."

"Right then," said Harry. "I'll talk to her after breakfast, at the very least we could meet up in the middle. So, mate, bit of a late night?"

Ron snorted. "Something like that. You want details?"

"No thanks." Harry shook his head quickly, "I'll just sit here being quietly envious."

"Yeah, sorry mate." Ron looked down at his hands briefly. "I know she misses you as much as I miss Hermione."

"That much?" Harry sniggered. "Poor Hermione then, if Ginny's anything like the surly prat you are."

"You're hilarious, you are," Ron mocked, "look in the mirror some time."

"Yeah, I know," Harry sobered. "I just wish this year would be over."

"Me too." Ron took a deep breath and then added, quite tentatively, "Hermione asked me to move in with her, when she's done."

"Really?" Harry's eyes widened.

"Yeah ..." Ron smiled.

"Will you do it?"

"As if I would say no," Ron looked shocked at the idea. "Mum's probably not going to be happy, but she'll get over it."

Harry nodded slowly. "I don't know if you'd want to, but you could go to Grimmauld Place, if you wanted. I don't want to live there any time soon, you know? But I don't want to get rid of it either." He laughed at Ron's dumbfounded expression. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. Honestly, it's not been too hard to see which direction you two are headed. It needs a lot of work though."

"All those bloody snakes," Ron agreed with a grimace.

"Exactly," Harry's lip curled momentarily. "I thought we could share it – it's not like there's not enough space."

Ron chewed his lip thoughtfully. "You mean like we could have one floor, you two the other; and the rest is like one great big Gryffindor common room?"

"Basically." Harry agreed.

"What does Ginny think of all this?"

"She gave me the idea," Harry grinned. "She said it would make a great place to stay in the city," Harry laughed suddenly, "or during the winter, when the children start to come and then go off to Hogwarts, according to Kreacher."

"Children? Hogwarts?" Ron's jaw dropped and he laughed too. "Planning ahead, Potter?"

Harry held his hands up. "Don't look at me! That's what she said he said – not that I'm against the idea. Just not yet!"

"I know what you mean," Ron chortled.

"So what do you think?"

"I don't know." Ron scratched his head. "I think it sounds like a good idea, actually."

"Well, there's no rush," Harry shrugged, "talk to Hermione about it sometime and see what you come up with."

"Right, I'll do that."

A loud voice echoed through the house. "Darlings! I have arrived! Break out the marching band!"

"That'll be George," Harry snorted.

"Such a quiet chap," Ron sniggered, reaching for the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed. "Time for breakfast."

*

"Well, will you look at that," George huffed, hiding his grin behind his hand, "all of that nagging about me coming for breakfast, and she doesn't even show herself until a quarter past eight! I've been here waiting for simply hours."

"Morning George," Hermione laughed at him, "morning Mrs Weasley."

"Good morning Hermione" Mrs Weasley shook her head and handed her a plate of toast, "put that on the table for me dear, and pay no attention to him, he's hardly been here for five minutes."

"I know," Hermione put the plate in the middle of the table and took her seat beside George, "I heard his melodious entrance."

"Are you casting aspersions on my rich and fulsome singing voice?" George scowled playfully and poured a cup of tea, "I'm hurt, Poppet, hurt."

"Rich and fulsome?" Hermione took the tea he handed her and raised her brows. "That's one way of putting it."

"Morning everyone," Harry shuffled into the kitchen.

"Morning Harry," George and Hermione chorused.

"Good morning, dear," said Mrs Weasley, "breakfast is nearly ready, is Ron on his way down?"

"He's in the shower," Harry took his seat opposite George and poured himself some tea. "Five minutes, he said."

"Good," Mrs Weasley glanced at the clock on the mantle and then went back to her cooking. "Charlie and Arthur are outside collecting more eggs, so that just leaves Percy, Bill and Fleur. I thought we might pop down to the village today, it's the last day of the Flower Festival and there are a couple of bare patches in the garden I'd like sorted."

*

"I had an owl this morning," George told Ron and Hermione quietly as they wandered slowly through the bright display of African Tulips; several feet behind Percy, Harry and Charlie.

"It happens," Ron said lightly, watching Hermione run her finger along a particularly orange petal.

"From Lee," George clarified.

"Ah." Hermione frowned. "What did he have to say for himself?"

"Not much," George rolled his eyes. "Just said hello, and asked how I was going."

"Big of him," Ron said sourly.

"Ron," Hermione admonished gently, "less than helpful."

"Maybe." Ron shrugged. "Are you going to write back?"

"Might ..." George sighed, "not sure what I'd say."

"Tell the truth," Hermione suggested. "You've every right to let him know how you feel."

*

"Hermione," Harry dropped back from Percy and Charlie, "got a minute."

"Of course," she said immediately.

"I'll see you in a bit," Ron grinned and kissed her cheek. "Come George, let's go look at some pretty flowers." He grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him forward.

"Subtle as ever," Harry chuckled.

"Obviously," Hermione agreed. "Something up?"

"Not really," Harry grinned, "Ron and I were talking this morning."

"Imagine that," she giggled, "what about?"

"Ginny and I are thinking of taking a couple of weeks holiday after the school year," Harry explained, "we thought you and Ron might want to come with us. He said you've got plans of your own, but I thought we might be able to sort something out. He said to ask you."

"That sounds lovely," Hermione smiled. "Do you have anywhere in mind?"

"No. Just away, at this point," said Harry. "Not Scotland and not camping."

"Gosh, I wonder why you don't want to go camping," she said dryly. "We decided yesterday that we'll get a cottage in St Cleer and take side-trips to Wales for a few days. How does that sound to you?"

"Saint who?" Harry asked. "Where's that?"

"Cornwall," she told him, "in Bodmin Moor. There's a small wizarding community on the outskirts. We had lunch there yesterday, it's really nice."

"I thought you went to Merseyside yesterday?"

"In the afternoon," she told him.

"You like your travelling, don't you Hermione." Harry laughed.

*

"Glad the rain stopped," said Ron as the group made their way back to The Burrow, along the old Otter River path. "You're not cold, are you?"

"No," Hermione smiled up at him, "it's chilly, but you're keeping me nice and warm."

"Glad to be of service," he grinned, pulling her closer as they walked.

"Fleur was right," she giggled suddenly, "I really do need to keep you on my arm at all times."

"Oh, that's right," Ron laughed, and slid his fingers over the fabric on her shoulders, "I forgot, I'm like a handbag now."

"Oh, hush," she pulled them both to a halt. "A handbag? Maybe a nice big coat, but never a handbag."

"Like this?" He wrapped his arms around her and planted a smacking kiss on her temple.

"Hmm, exactly like this," she agreed. "Harry talked to me about the holiday."

"Uha," he nodded, "what do you think?"

"It'll be fun, there's no rule that say's we're going to have to spend every spare moment with them."

"I hope not," Ron scoffed, "there are some things I don't want an audience for."

"Precisely." She stood on her toes and kissed his neck gently, before continuing on. "You're being very open-minded about Harry and Ginny, I'm impressed."

"Yeah, well," he pulled a wry face. "He knows if he messes her around I'm going to have to kill him, best mate or not, and they're good for each other. As long as they're both happy. Anyway," he bent his head to brush his lips over hers, "what's this about Neville and Hannah?"

"Oooh, that." She smiled as they started walking again. "I'm not sure. They're certainly getting along well enough; Neville can be quite the flirt when he puts his mind to it."

"Neville? Flirting? You're joking!"

"Not in the least," she giggled, "it's actually rather sweet. Hannah certainly seems to think so. Now if we could just find someone for Luna."

"Hm." Ron looked thoughtful. "Dean?"

"No, they're just good friends, and he's got his eye on Valerie Dickens."

"Who?"

"Sixth year Ravenclaw," she told him, "I don't know her that well, but she's nice enough by all accounts."

"Fair enough," Ron nodded, "I always thought he had a thing for Parvati, but then he went out with Ginny for a bit ... so maybe not. Luna's a difficult one though, she's lovely and all ... but it would have to be someone who doesn't take himself too seriously. We'll have to think about it."

"Oh good lord, do you know what we've become?" Hermione shuddered elaborately.

"What?" His lips twitched upward at her expression.

"We're turning into that odious couple that are so sickeningly happy they try to set up all of their single friends!"

Laughing loudly, they hurried to catch up with the rest of the family.

*

"Now there are some extra goodies in here, dear, as well as the big tin, so be sure to unpack tonight," Mrs Weasley said as she tapped the hastily wrapped box on the kitchen table. "I've also included the blanket Ginny forgot to pack," she watched anxiously as Hermione proceeded to force the package into her black handbag, "are you sure there's enough room in there?"

"Quite sure, there's quite a bit left," Hermione assured her and the parcel finally slid in with a clunk, "there we go! Thank you so much for the weekend, Mrs Weasley."

"Don't be silly," Mrs Weasley pulled her into a firm hug, "it's a pleasure to have you back, even if it was only for the weekend. Arthur will be down in a moment," she glanced at the clock and then studied the younger woman, a slightly wistful look on her face. "Hermione, dear, you're always welcome here, you must know that ... but I really must insist on something."

"Anything," Hermione said, slightly concerned at what might be coming next.

"You must do away with this Mr and Mrs Weasley business." Molly said sternly. "Arthur quite agrees."

"Arthur quite agrees with what?" The man himself asked from the doorway.

"Oh, there you are!" Molly scolded, "Hermione needs to be back at school in 25 minutes, you do like leaving things to the last minute, don't you?"

"Sorry!" Arthur crossed the room, holding a small, flat package. "What do I agree with dear?"

"That Hermione should call us by our given names," Molly said.

"Oh yes," Arthur agreed, "quite right. Here you are, Hermione," he passed her the package, "no, don't open it now, wait until you're on your own." He leaned down and gave her a quick hug. "Give our love to Ginny, and enjoy the rest of term. We'll see you at Christmas."

"I ... um ... well," Hermione felt a slight prickle of tears form in her eyes, "thank you, Molly and Arthur."

"That's much better," Molly smiled, "now off you go, Ron's waiting in the garden with the others."

*

"About time!" Harry laughed. "You're going to be late if you don't watch it."

"No I'm not," Hermione retorted with a grin, "I'm right on time."

"Of course you are," George agreed, "possibly early."

"I wouldn't go that far," she disagreed. "Now give me a hug, I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Honeybunny," George hugged her firmly and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you next Hogsmeade weekend."

"Alright, alright, don't hog all the action," Charlie pulled George out of the way. "I won't see you at Christmas, Hermione, I won't be able to take the time off," he patted her back, "have a good year."

"Watch out for those dragons," she chuckled as they pulled apart.

"My turn now?" Harry laughed.

"Your turn," Hermione rolled her eyes and opened her arms to him. "I'll see you in Hogsmeade."

"Don't forget to give Ginny the thing," Harry reminded her. "See you."

"I won't forget."

She turned to Ron and took his hand.

"Said goodbye to Percy, Fleur and Bill?" he asked.

"Inside," she told him with a nod.

He sighed heavily. "OK. Let's go."

*

They landed heavily on the cold ground, stumbling slightly.

"Bloody cold," Ron remarked as he peered around and then pulled her into his arms.

"We are in the highlands," Hermione slid her arms around his neck.

"True that," he whispered before pressing his mouth to hers. "Gonna miss you."

"Miss you already," she held on even tighter.

Loud footsteps sounded out in the dark, accompanied by the sight of a bobbing lantern coming in their direction.

"That'll be Hagrid," he cupped her face with his hands and rubbed their noses together. "I love you, Hermione."

"Love you too," she blinked frantically and fisted his jumper in her hands.

The footsteps were coming closer.

Ron caught her dangerously wobbling lower lip with his own and kissed her thoroughly.

Hagrid cleared his throat loudly.

They pulled apart slowly.

"In good time then," Hagrid said, his keys jingling as he unlocked the gate. "Have a good weekend?"

"The best," Hermione breathed, gazing up at Ron as he let her go reluctantly.

"Yeah, it was brilliant," he tried to smile, but really couldn't. "How about you, Hagrid?"

"No bad," Hagrid nodded, "you'll need to go into Professor McGonagall's office when you get up to the castle, 'Ermione, jus so she knows you're on time."

"Of course," she murmured, still gazing at Ron as their fingers slid apart. "I'll see you at Hogsmeade."

"Yeah," he nodded, and finally managed a watery sort of smile. "See you then."

Ron stayed where he was, his hands shoved in his pockets, watching as Hermione and Hagrid were swallowed by the darkness and the light of the lamp made its way up to the castle.

*

"It'll be over before you know it," Hagrid said as they trudged along the driveway.

"It doesn't feel like it," she whispered, wiping her eyes quickly and taking a deep breath. "It feels like forever."

"Now, now," he patted her on the back, inadvertently propelling her forward, "I know it seems like it now, but time gallops along like no-one's business, really." He slowed down as they came to the castle steps. "You'll be alright? Need a minute?"

"No, I'm fine." She smiled up at him gratefully. "Thanks, Hagrid."

"Good girl." They climbed the castle steps and he unlocked the doors to the Great Hall. "Off you go then, password's punctuality."

*

"Miss Granger," Minerva allowed herself to smile at the young woman standing just in the door. "In good time, I see. I take it you had an enjoyable weekend."

"Yes, Professor, it was wonderful," Hermione smiled, but Minerva's sharp eyes quickly took in the red-rimmed eyes.

"Never mind, Hermione," Minerva said sympathetically, "you're doing the right thing."

"I know," Hermione agreed, looking slightly surprised – and rightly so, Minerva thought to herself, it wasn't generally her practise to offer unsolicited personal council to her students. "I'd like to thank you again, Professor, for allowing it."

"That's quite alright, Hermione," Minerva said, "now off you go, I'm sure your friends are waiting for you."

"Yes, Professor, thank you." Hermione smiled again and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

"You're going soft in your old age, Minerva," a voice said from the wall behind her.

"Be quiet, Severus," she said lightly, not bothering to turn. "It's good for student morale."

*

"Hermione!" Ginny fairly flew across the common room, just about knocking Hermione down. "At last! I thought you'd never get back."

"But I'm five minutes early!" Hermione protested.

"Don't pay any attention to her," Neville advised from his spot by the fire, "she's been pacing since just after dinner."

"I have not!" Ginny waggled her finger at him. "Only for the last half hour, thank you very much. Now!" She dragged Hermione to their favourite spot. "How was the weekend? You realise, of course, that I've been simply seething with jealousy that you got to go home and I didn't."

"I know," Hermione laughed, "I'm really sorry you couldn't. We had a quiet weekend though, nothing outrageous." She snapped open her bag and pulled out the large parcel. "But I do come with goodies from your Mum. Where are Seamus and Dean?"

"I'll get them," Neville quickly bounded upstairs and reappeared in short order with Seamus and Dean in tow.

"Hermione!" Seamus grinned. "You came back! I thought lover-boy might keep you locked up forever!"

"Oh, you're really funny," Hermione snorted, unwrapping the parcel and handing Ginny her forgotten blanket. "Keep it up and I won't share."

"Yeah, shut up," Dean punched Seamus in the arm, "what have you got?"

"Fudge, biscuits and fruitcake," Hermione said after she opened each tin in turn.

"I miss Mum's cooking," Ginny moaned expressively around a biscuit.

"I think it might be worth moving in," Seamus joked, "if this is what she feeds you, she does even better fudge than Mam," he frowned suddenly, "but don't ever tell Mam I said that!"

"Your life wouldn't be worth living," Dean agreed, cutting a slice of fruit cake. "God, that's nice."

"Hang on," Hermione pulled a larger-still tin from her bag and crossed the room to put it on the desk under the notice-board. "This is for everyone," she announced to the room at large in a slightly stern tone, "but it's not a bottomless tin, so don't let me catch anyone taking too many and not leaving some for everyone else!" She smiled encouragingly at six first-year girls who edged forward. "Go on, they're really good."

"Thanks, Hermione," one of the girls said timidly, "did you make them?"

"Heavens no!" Hermione laughed. "Cooking isn't my forte, Amanda. Ginny's Mum made them."

"Lucky, really," Ginny called across the room, "or we'd all be in the hospital wing by morning, Hermione's cooking is terrible!"

Amanda stared from Hermione to Ginny with wide eyes. "I'll bet it's not," she whispered.

"It is," Hermione chuckled, "but Mrs Weasley's is excellent, so there are no trips to the hospital wing in our immediate future."

"You've got a bit of a fan-club going on," Neville said under his breath when she sat back down, "the first year girls were talking about you all weekend."

"Really?" Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "I'm sure you're exaggerating."

"He's not," Ginny disagreed, smiling at Neville, "but you'll notice that he's neglected to mention the little crowd of boys who hang on his every word."

Neville blushed furiously. "Rubbish."

"No, really," Dean grinned, took another bite of his cake and chewed quickly. "I reckon you two are the most popular Heads this place has ever seen."

"Hardly," Hermione protested and then waved her hand impatiently. "What did I miss this weekend? Anything important?"

"Quiddich training," Seamus gave Ginny a sour look, "our esteemed captain worked us like dogs, to little or no effect."

"It'll be fine," Ginny dropped her voice and leaned forward. "I won't lie, Seamus; I know you're more of a chaser and you're no Harry, but you're not that bad of a seeker – you're quick and you've got good eyes, and that's what we need."

"That's true, mate," Dean said absently, eyeing the fruitcake longingly, "I'm no Ron either, but if the boss say's I'm keeper because I've got a good reach, that's the way it is."

"Exactly," Ginny nodded firmly, "oh, go on, have another slice Dean, everyone can see you eyeballing it."

"I know that, Ginny," Seamus argued, "but you've been seeker before, you should be doing it."

"I'm a better chaser than you are," Ginny stated bluntly, "sorry."

"Yeah, I 'spose," Seamus reached for more fudge.

"With the team the way it is," Neville put in quietly, after glancing over his shoulder, "Ginny's really got the right idea. She's got the strongest players in the best positions. Annie looks like she might shape up to be a good chaser, but I'm so sure about Evan, and your beaters need a lot of work." He shrugged and then grinned at the general looks of astonishment he was receiving. "What? Just 'cause I hate flying doesn't mean that I don't like Quiddich."

"Armchair critic," Hermione said with a grin.

"Huh?" Neville looked blank while Dean burst into laughter.

"Well played, Miss Granger. An arm-chair critic," Dean explained, "for those of you not quite so accustomed to the muggle world, is someone who knows a lot about the game, but can't play it for nuts."

"Oh. Well, that's me then!" Neville agreed cheerfully.

*

"I thought they'd never shut up," Ginny flopped down on her bed as Hermione shut the dorm door behind them.

"Neither did I," Hermione sat a little more carefully and opened her bag again. "Harry sent you something."

"He did?"Ginny took the gaily wrapped tube from Hermione. "What is it?"

"No idea," Hermione told her, "but he made absolutely sure that I wouldn't forget."

Ginny bit her lip and half-smiled, placing it carefully on her pillow. "I'll just ... you know ..."

"I know," Hermione nodded, fully understanding. "Harry also said I'm to tell you about the holiday."

"Ah, yes." Ginny took her shoes off and let them drop with a thump. "Thoughts?"

"It sounds like fun," said Hermione, "Ron and I were planning one anyway. We're going to Cornwall for a couple of weeks, come with us."

"Cornwall?" Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Why Cornwall?"

"Loads of open space, and moors," Hermione said, "do you REALLY want to know?"

"Ugh, this is a Ron and Hermione shagging thing, isn't it?" Ginny wrinkled her nose. "I can do without the mental picture, if you don't mind."

"That's just as well," Hermione said with a chuckle, "I don't really need the details of your escapades either. We'll take side-trips, though; Cornwall will just be our base. We're renting a cottage; it shouldn't be too hard to find one that sleeps four."

*

Hermione waited until they were both safely behind their curtains before taking the small, flat package Arthur had given her. Sliding her thumb under the brown paper, she found an envelope which said Read First and yet more wrapping. She read the letter first.

Dear Hermione,

I hope you enjoyed your weekend and had a nice Birthday. I also hope that you know you're always a pleasure to have around, and that you're always welcome in our home no matter what happens in the future.

Molly and I wanted you to have this; and would have given it to you much sooner had I not taken it to work for copying and then promptly forgotten that fact in the insanity that the last 18 months has been. However, it's yours now.

Love

Arthur and Molly

Wondering what on earth it could possibly be, Hermione quickly undid the last of the wrapping paper.

It was a beautifully framed magical photograph.

Running her fingers gently over the glass, she smiled through the tears that streamed unheeded down her cheeks.

"Hello," she whispered and stood the photograph carefully on her night-stand; watching Molly pouring tea from a thermos into four cups as Arthur ran through the picture chasing his hat down the unknown beach, while her Mum and Dad waved and laughed happily at the camera.

*

*

*

*

I didn't mean to leave this chapter hanging for so long, sorry!