When the four of them returned to the Burrow after an impromptu stop at St. Mungo's to visit the wounded, Hermione felt like her head would explode. She knew Harry carried a tremendous burden of responsibility for the lives lost and the injuries sustained in the war. People seemed to take genuine comfort in his presence, so he felt compelled to be present. Naturally, she, Ron, and Ginny felt compelled to be with him, so the four of them were now locked in what would become a near constant state of meet and greet. After months of it just being the three of them, the steady stream of people was overwhelming and it was only the first day. She wanted to cry by herself somewhere quiet. She found herself bizarrely missing the tent. To make matters worse, Ron was barely acknowledging her. He sat next to her, took her arm to Disapparate, but nothing else. He'd hardly made eye contact and had said almost nothing. She desperately hoped it was just grief that held his tongue and made him seem so distant, but as the day had worn on, it started to feel like something else.

Perhaps she'd pushed him. After all, she had initiated the kiss in the middle of the battle. She'd said she didn't want to sleep alone after he'd offered to sleep in Ginny's bed. What if all of this had been about placating her? What if, in fact, she had been right all along. He wasn't attracted to her in that way. He'd kissed her back and he'd certainly been quick to take her up on her offer to join her in bed, but he was a healthy male, and he did love her after a fashion. She knew he loved her as a friend and perhaps he was simply giving her what he knew she wanted. The idea made her nauseated. She'd thrown herself at him and he'd simply gone along. How completely like him. She'd taken advantage of his friendship and now she felt like a slag. Perhaps months of being trapped in a tent with the two of them had warped her mind. Even though the world had suddenly opened up, she didn't want anyone else. She longed for Ron to feel the way she did. It wasn't just that he was tall and strong and smelled so good. He had been such a positive presence over these last few months. He'd really taken the lead and then at Shell Cottage, she'd thought…but there wasn't a single thing he'd done that couldn't also be attributed to a close friend…except for the recent kissing and groping, but she'd started all that. Not for the first time, she mourned that her mother was on the other side of the planet and lost to her. She could use some advice right now and there wasn't anyone around who wasn't related to Ron that she could ask. She was changing out of her robes when the door to Ginny's room opened and Ginny came inside. Hermione quickly turned her back to the door since there were people walking up and down the stairs. None of the Weasley's ever seemed to knock on a door or consider that a person might want a moment just to themselves. She envied that Harry got to sleep in Ron's top floor room, not only because he got to be with Ron, but because that room didn't have the foot traffic that Ginny's room had.

Ginny didn't apologize for barging in. She didn't even notice that Hermione was changing. "Fleur said dinner will be ready shortly. I can't wait to get out of these clothes." Hermione finished unbuttoning the top of her funeral robes and shrugged them off. Ginny gasped. "Bloody hell, Hermione."

"What?" Hermione said, reaching for her jeans.

"I knew you'd lost weight, but—you're even thinner than Harry and he's way too thin."

Hermione felt hideous. "We didn't exactly have a team of house elves feeding us on the run," she snipped.

"I know, but…" Ginny didn't seem to know how to end that sentence. "At least there's plenty of food here."

"Yes, I saw what everyone brought this morning," Hermione said, pulling a faded green, long-sleeved T-shirt over her head. "That's more food than we've seen all year."

Ginny looked so concerned that Hermione felt herself blushing. "I'll see you downstairs," she said, moving past Ginny to escape her pity.

If anything, downstairs was worse because the entire Weasley clan was like a tidal wave of emotion. There were aunts and uncles and cousins that Hermione recognized from Bill and Fleur's wedding. They were all talking at once, laughing, crying, eating. Angelina was also there, as was Lee Jordan, which was great for George, but just added to the din. She looked around the crowded parlor and saw Ron. She went over to him. "Where's Harry," she asked, looking around.

"He had some cottage pie and went to bed," Ron said. His eyes skittered away from hers unwilling to really look at her.

"Oh," she said. She wished she could go to bed, but while it might be quiet enough to do that on the top floor, it certainly wasn't quiet enough to do that right above this cacophony, and she couldn't put wards around a room that wasn't even hers without Ginny even being inside. The night wore noisily on. Eventually, Angelina and Lee went home and various relatives began to trickle away. Mr. Weasley announced that he and Molly were going to bed, hugging all their children goodnight before they did. There was a brief quiet that followed their departure and then Bill stood up.

"Come on lads," he said. "Time to give Fred a proper send off." His brothers all got to their feet. Bill reached out his hand to Ginny. "For tonight, you're a lad too." She followed them all out the door.

Hermione and Fleur were the only two left in the parlor. The silence was deafening as if someone had cast Silencio. She considered just going to bed, but was struck with immobility. She probably wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

"Are you alright?" Fleur asked.

Hermione looked at her. "I don't know. I mean, I guess I am. I'm just tired."

"You should go to bed. It's been a long day," Fleur said.

"What about you? Aren't you tired?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, but I need to make sure they all get back okay."

"Where did they go?" Hermione asked.

"Probably up to the grave to get drunk, I imagine." Fleur said. "I worry about Bill. Charlie will have him drinking more than he should. It's better if I wait up."

"I'll wait with you then."

It was almost two hours before the Weasley siblings returned to the house. As expected, they were all drunk. Fleur stood when they came in through the kitchen door, so Hermione did too. Bill was the first in and wrapped his arms around Fleur. "We're back!" he announced as if she'd missed it.

"I see that," she said. "It's very late. You should all go to bed."

"You are very pretty," Charlie said to Fleur. "Have you always been this pretty?" He turned to Percy. "Was Bill's wife always that pretty?"

Percy leaned toward her peering at her through his glasses. "I think so, yes," he said quite seriously.

"Yes," Ron said. "She's always been very pretty. And she's a good cook and a good cook teacher." He paused. "Good cook teacher? Is that right?" He looked at Hermione. "Is that right?"

"I don't think so," Hermione said. "Go to bed, Ron. You're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," he protested. "Now George, George is drunk. Ginny too. All the Weasley's whose names start with G are drunk." He seemed pleased at that insight.

Percy and Charlie were holding up George between them. Ron was holding up Ginny on his own.

"Why do they keep talking about how pretty you are?" Bill asked Fleur. "I don't like that." He bared his teeth at his brothers and let out a low growl.

"Okay, that's us to bed then," Fleur said. "Percy, Charlie, go pour George into bed and then yourselves. Hermione help Ron get Ginny to bed. I'll deal with Bill." She pushed her husband ahead of her toward the stairs.

Percy and Charlie did as they were told and hauled George up to his room. Hermione got on the other side of Ginny. "Come on, Ron," she said and led them to the stairs. She was grateful for the moment that Ginny's room was only one floor up because she was all but passed out. They got her on to her stomach in bed and Hermione took off her shoes. When she turned around, Ron was still standing in the room.

"I like your hair," he said, reaching for it.

"That's great," Hermione said, ducking his hand. "Go to bed."

"Can I sleep with you?" Ron asked. He pressed his finger to his lips. "I'll be very quiet. You won't know I'm there."

He started for her bed but she grabbed his arm. "No, you can't sleep here. You're drunk."

"Come on," he whined. "You're my best…come on…I…you…" He leaned down and planted a sloppy kiss on her lips. "Is that right?" he asked. "Is that what you…I don't…come on." He put his hand on her breast. "You like that, right?"

She knew he was just drunk, but after a day of being barely acknowledged, it felt like he was mocking her. She blinked back tears and turned him around. "I don't think so," she said and pushed him out the door and closed it behind him.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door, Hermione opened it, prepared to tell Ron to go back to his own room, but it was Fleur.

"May I sleep here tonight?" she asked, her face flushed.

"Um, sure," Hermione said. "Is everything alright?"

Fleur sighed and came in, closing the door behind her. "Sometimes, it is very annoying to be part Veela."

"Okay," Hermione said.

"Bill doesn't normally drink," Fleur explained. "He has the occasional beer, but he doesn't get drunk, because when he does he gets a bit…wolfish."

"I heard the growl." Hermione said.

"Right, well, it's just easier to sleep down here than it is to fend him off all night."

"Oh," Hermione said. "I'm sorry. I'll get the cot out of the closet."

Fleur sighed again. "Once you get past puberty as a Veela you can control the power much better. The same is true of men, once they're out of puberty they're less susceptible to the effect, especially of someone who is only part Veela, but drunkenness changes all of that. It's very tedious."

Hermione pulled out her wand and cast the charm that snapped the cot together. "At least you're pretty?"

"Am I?" Fleur said. "I wouldn't know. I could look like ten miles of bad road, but men will always say a Veela is pretty."

Hermione handed Fleur one of the pillows off her bed. "You don't look like ten miles of bad road. You're lovely and I'm not even slightly susceptible to your charms."

Fleur smiled at her. "Thanks. What a nice thing to say. Other women never comment on my looks."

"Really?"

"In school, sometimes they would say something nasty, but now, if I get my hair cut or wear a new frock, no one ever says anything."

"Ah," Hermione said. "I can see that." She handed Fleur two blankets from the top of the closet. "There aren't any extra sheets in here, but you could sleep on top of one blanket and under the other."

"That's fine," Fleur said. "I appreciate you making room for me." She looked over at Ginny sprawled out on her bed. "I know I'm not her favorite person."

Hermione shrugged. "She just needs to get to know you better. You're alright by me."

Fleur smiled at her. "Thanks." She settled the blankets on the cot. "Oh, and if you don't mind, please don't mention the situation with Bill to anyone else. I'll be out of here in the morning before anyone else is up."

"Not a problem," Hermione said.