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.

Tuesday, 10th November, 1998.

"I won't lie to you," Mr Finnigan sat abruptly, ignoring the burst of dust which immediately surrounded him, "I'll need another look around, and I'm happy to take the job, but it's not going to be cheap."

Mr Thomas watched the dust settle and elected not to sit. "I'm on the tail end of the Becontree contract, finished by months end on the outside. I was going to take the wife on a break over Christmas, back home to the islands, but turns out she's not keen until Dean's finished his education."

"Want's ta keep an eye on him?" Mr Finnigan suggested. "Aoife's the same."

"That's it," Mr Thomas chuckled, "can't blame the woman, though. Be that as it may," he shook his head and turned back to Ron, who had been quietly listening, "I've a job in June that can't be put off, so if you want me to do this I'll need to be getting on it earlier than February – especially if I can't use my usual crew and'll mostly be on my own."

"That'll be fine," said Ron, hastily making himself a note with one of those ingenious muggle pencils, "February was more of a guideline than anything. Mr Finnigan?"

"Eamon, son. My boys are starting the second fit of a cottage in Cork as we speak, all going to plan it'll be ready within the fortnight." He nodded at Mr Thomas. "I'll be ready to go whenever you are ..." he half-laughed, "ever done any building? I don't think my boys'll quite understand this place."

"Bits and bobs, D-I-Y around the house for Stella. Painted much?"

"Only the bathroom and kitchen."

"Works for me," Mr Thomas laughed. "So, Ron, we've a working relationship now and I don't stand on formality. It's Stan."

"Um, OK." Ron found calling the fathers of his friends by the given names more than a bit strange, but he supposed that if he was going to be the "Project Manager" – that's what Hermione had called him - he'd have to learn to deal with it. "I'm going to have to get back to Harry with some numbers; can you give me a rough idea on that?"

Ron waited patiently while they muttered between themselves, occasionally consulting the plans and once or twice drawing on them.

"We'll need another walk-through," Eamon stated.

"It's not going to be pretty," Stan added.

oOo

"'Mione!" Ron's smiling face greeted her. "How was the day?"

"Utter madness," Hermione pushed her hair from her face impatiently and rubbed her temples. "Yours?"

"Around the same. You've got another headache," Ron stated, frowning.

"Just a little one," she shrugged dismissively, "nothing to worry about."

"Go and see Madam Pomfrey," he said quickly, "that's the fourth one you've had in a week. At least get something for it."

"That's really not necessary, Ron," she smiled at his reflection. "Did you see Mr Finnigan and Mr Thomas today?"

"Yeah. I'm going to need to talk to harry before the weekend. Is Ginny around?"

"Not yet," Hermione glanced at her watch, "but she should be along shortly. Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem ... well," Ron leaned away from his mirror and she could hear parchment being shuffled about, "here we go. I need his go-ahead on a few things, and they want to start work in early December. Stan has commitments in June and they reckon it's going to take at least until late April, early May, to get it all done."

"Fair enough," she nodded, "anything else?"

"It's going to cost a ridiculous amount of money," he laughed, rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"How much ridiculous?" Hermione asked curiously.

"They reckon probably around-"

"Hi! Hi!" Ginny breezed into the room, threw down her bag and flopped onto her bed. "That Ron?"

"Hi Ginny!" Ron called.

"You came just in time," Hermione smiled, "Ron needs to talk to Harry."

"Easily fixed," Ginny took her own mirror from her bedside table, propped it next to Hermione's and then settled herself comfortably on her best friends bed. "How's it going, Ron?"

"Well enough," he grinned at his sister, "you?"

"Well enough," Ginny grinned too, "keeping busy. Harry'll be along in a minute."

"Did someone mention my name?" Harry's face slid into view. "Isn't this cosy."

"Cosy?" Hermione wrinkled her nose and stifled a laugh. "If you say so, Harry."

"Turn the mirrors around, will you?" Ron said. "Harry, sorry mate, I need a word."

"It can't wait 'til Saturday?" Harry sounded surprised.

Ron shook his head. "Not really, no. Got a quill and parchment handy?"

"Hang on." Harry disappeared for several seconds. "Go on then."

"I saw Eamon Finnigan and Stan Thomas today," said Ron, "and I've got you a rough quote – oh, and they need to start work in early December ... other stuff on next year and whatever."

"That's fine," Harry wrote something down. "The quote? Do I need to sit down?"

"Probably," Ron laughed, "they reckon you should allow about £100 000 on the outside, whatever that means, which includes materials and labour. No plumbing though."

"On the outside would mean at the most," Ginny interjected.

"Bloody hell," Harry blinked and ran his hand through his hair, "what's that in galleons?"

"Just over 20 000," Hermione said. "Five pounds to a galleon, more or less."

"Eh," Harry shrugged philosophically, "could be worse. What sort of time are they looking at?"

"April, May," said Ron, "if they do it all on their own. Sooner if they get some help in."

"That long?" Harry scribbled something down.

"Yeah, something about the place being like the tardis? Dunno mate, I think it's a muggle thing."

"Could be," Harry shrugged. "What's this about the plumbing?"

"Not their area of expertise," Ron chuckled, "but Stan knows a bloke that lives local."

"Right, right. I'll leave it to you, Ron, to sort that out. Anything else?"

"Yeah. The floo's," Ron leaned away from his mirror to grab something. "It's actually the most important thing, right now. Stan's right around the corner, in Islington, so that's not a problem, but Eamon has to come in from Waterford. He said the fire-place in the kitchen isn't big enough for some of his kit, but the one in the parlour is fine."

"We were going to close the kitchen floo and put it in the parlour eventually anyway," Harry shrugged, "it might as well be done now. What do you need from me?"

"You'll need to send a written request to the floo office," Ron told him, "there's a 15 week waiting list, at the moment, but if you send it via Percy – just as a memo will do – he'll be able to push it through. He said he'll need to see it first thing in the morning, mate."

"I'll send it tonight," Harry said, writing himself yet another note. "Can you give Dud a call and let him know what's going on?"

"Sure, I think I've still got the number here somewhere. I'll use the phone box outside the bookshop next to the Leaky."

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other quizzically, but just shrugged and said nothing.

"What else do you need from me?"

"Written go-ahead for Stan and Eamon to start."Ron said. "They'll be back on Friday. You can send that to Percy too, and he can give it to me at lunch tomorrow. They're going to need to order materials – yesterday, so Eamon says. They'll have a list of what they're going to need to begin with."

"OK." Harry scratched his chin thoughtfully. "We'll go to Gringotts on Saturday and I'll open another account or something, just for the build. Anything else?"

"No, that's it for now."

"Good. I'll see you on Saturday morning, mate."

"See you then."

oOo

"What are you laughing about?" Ron asked, when they were finally alone and Hermione had drawn the curtains around her bed.

"Nothing really," Hermione giggled. "Just you and Harry, talking about 'the build' as if this is an everyday thing."

"It's getting to be," Ron laughed. "I'm just glad George is OK with me taking time off here and there."

"Speaking of George, did the spell work?"

"It did!"

"Oh, well done. Where is she now?"

"I've got her hanging on the end wall of the parlour," said Ron. "Right by that stupid family tree. Kreacher can decide what to do with her." He tilted his head to one side. "Have you made any decisions about Winky?"

"Not yet," Hermione frowned. "I suppose I'll have to think about it properly before long." She stifled a yawn.

"Oh well, don't worry about it right now," Ron advised. "You look done in."

"I am, a bit," she admitted.

"Go to bed then," he told her, "I've got a couple of things to do here, and then I'll do the same."

"You'll wake me up early? I've grown accustomed to our morning routine."

"'Course I will, I need my morning 'Mione too."

"Ron ..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm really proud of you."

He turned red to the tips of his ears. "Whatever for?"

"I just am," she smiled softly and touched the mirror. "I love you."

"Love you too."