The next morning, they were all back at the Rook to paint and set up the house. With everyone helping, they were done before noon. Luna hugged everyone and thanked them profusely before they all Apparated back to the Burrow.

Molly made lunch. While everyone was sitting around the table, Harry suggested, that since they had six players, they should play three-on-three Quidditch, no Snitch, no Beaters.

"I'm up for that," Ron said.

"Me too," Ginny said.

"Alright," Fleur agreed. "I never played on a house team though, so I doubt I'm up to your standards."

"No problem," George said. "We'll go easy. Besides, if you can catch the Quaffle and stay on your broom, you're better than Granger."

Hermione moaned. "Please don't make me play."

"You have to play," Harry said, "or we won't have even teams."

"You won't have even teams if I do play," Hermione said.

"Come on," Ron said. "You can be on my team. George you come with us. Fleur can go with Harry and Ginny."

They all went out to the broom shed with Hermione bringing up a reluctant rear. Ron gave her an old Cleansweep Five. "It's a good broom," he said. "It's not too fast but it's easy to handle. You'll do fine."

Hermione sighed and followed the rest of them through the orchard to the field where they played Quidditch. It took her three tries to get the broom aloft and she spent most of her time in the air just trying to keep her seat. The others played what amounted to two-on-three Quidditch. Fleur was better than she'd let on. Not long after they started, Hermione was profoundly relieved to see Angelina Johnson fly up.

"Oi," Angelina shouted. "I came to see if you wanted a fly, Georgie, but I see you're busy."

George flew over to her. "Come play with us."

"Yes, please," Hermione said quickly. "You can have my spot." She was descending before Angelina had a chance to answer.

Hermione parked herself under a pear tree and enjoyed watching the others play for the next hour. When they finally took a break, Hermione Apparated back to the Burrow and then reappeared with a tray of cups and a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

Angelina looked at her. "Impressive. If I'd tried that, we'd all be doused in juice."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks. If only I were half as good at flying."

"You just need a bit of practice," Ron said. "We've never really worked on it before, but I bet if we put in a little time, you'd be flying like a pro soon as."

Hermione started to agree if only to have time alone with him when Fleur said, "I'm surprised you're not better given all the time Viktor spent teaching you."

"Oh," Ron said.

Hermione felt her face go hot. "Well," she stammered. "That was ages ago. Perhaps now that I'm older—"

"Nah," Ron said. "Forget it. If the best broomsman in the last three hundred years can't teach you, I doubt I'd do you much good." He walked off toward the house.

Hermione turned and went in the opposite direction.

Fleur soon caught up to her. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize that was a sore subject."

Hermione shook her head. "It's not your fault."

"It is. I shouldn't have said anything," Fleur said apologetically. "Of course, it bothers Ron that you dated Viktor. It was just so long ago, I didn't think."

Hermione stopped and looked at her. "It was a long time ago. It feels like a lifetime." She shook her head. "Anyway, so I dated Viktor, so what? He tried to teach me to fly. What's that to do with anything? I'm terrible on a broom. A witch who can't fly, how ridiculous is that? A witch on a broom is so iconic even Muggles know about it, but here I am, can't fly for love or money. Pathetic."

"You're hardly pathetic," Fleur said. "Why would you even want to fly when you can Apparate like you do? Seriously?"

"Because Ron loves to fly and periodically he wants me to do something like play three-on-three Quidditch and I have some kind of brain lapse and agree and…" She shook her head again. "It never goes well, so it's not your fault. Today is just one in a long string of disastrous days of me attempting to fly a broom."

Fleur put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Want to go back?"

"No. You go ahead. I'm going to walk for a while. If I go back now, Ron will just be a prat."

Fleur sighed. "Alright. I'll see you later."

xXx

Hermione walked down to the pond and was surprised to see Ron standing in the gazebo. He must have circled around the other way. She considered turning around before he saw her, but decided that was cowardly. She stepped up on to the gazebo and went to stand next to him at the rail. He glanced at her, but then looked away again. She chose not to say anything. She felt like too often she pushed him to say something before he was ready. She was trying not to do that anymore, but it went against her nature to wait. She blew out a calming breath and told herself to relax. They had nowhere to be, nothing to do, she could wait. He kept glancing at her, but she held fast. He would have to speak first or they would just stand in agonizing silence.

Finally, Ron said, "What was it like?"

"What was what like?" Hermione asked.

"Getting flying lessons from Viktor Krum?"

"Oh. Embarrassing," she answered honestly. "I was terrible. Even worse then, than I am now."

Ron cocked his head at her. "I don't understand the problem. You're not uncoordinated. You run well, dance well, and magically, you're amazing."

Hermione shrugged. "I don't like heights is a lot of it."

"But," Ron said, "you got on the dragon."

"Yes, but only because it was the only way out and I was terrified the whole time. It probably would have been worse if I hadn't been in so much pain."

Ron grimaced. "Yeah, that was pretty awful."

"Right?"

"Hang on, is that why you always stayed by the door in Astronomy class."

Hermione nodded.

"How did I never know you were afraid of heights?" Ron said, shaking his head.

"It's not a crippling fear or anything, it's just embarrassing. I don't announce it," Hermione said.

"It's embarrassing to be afraid of spiders," Ron said. "I should have noticed you were afraid of heights."

She shrugged. "I'm glad you didn't. Otherwise, you might have been worried about me when you should have been dealing with other things. I handle it. I've managed to cope when I've needed to, but flying on a broom for fun just isn't in the cards for me."

He smiled at her. "And yet you're the one who got flying lessons from Viktor Krum." He shook his head again. "Do you have any idea what your average Quidditch player would give for an hour's worth of lessons from him."

"I imagine quite a lot. I'm sorry you didn't get the opportunity."

"Me too. You couldn't help a mate out?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

He blushed. "I guess I didn't really make that possible."

"No," she said.

He glanced away from her. "I was just jealous."

"Of me or of Viktor?" she teased.

He quirked his lips and tried not to smile. "A little of both."

She chuckled. "That's fair."

xXx

Ron was pleased that they could laugh about it. He'd regretted stomping off within moments. He particularly regretted that he'd done it in front of everyone, but now Hermione was standing there chuckling at his joke. He loved her smile and loved eliciting a laugh from her. He liked the way the sunlight played in her curls. He had an almost overwhelming desire to kiss her. The problem was he didn't just want to kiss her. Touching her neck, the other day at the Lovegoods', had been a serious lapse in judgement. He'd found himself desperate to slide his hand further down and they were surrounded by his family then. He felt so out of control around her and he hated it. How Harry and Ginny could so casually kiss each other good night or hold hands in the garden befuddled him. Every time he touched Hermione his mind went careening toward sex. Was he just a giant pervert or was it that Harry and Ginny had already had sex so they were calmer about the whole thing? He wanted to be calmer. He wanted to be cool about it, as though he weren't bothered, when in reality, he was extremely bothered. He didn't know how other blokes managed this bit. He wasn't even sure Hermione was his girl. It seemed like she was sometimes. Most of the time, really. He wanted to ask, but then if she thought they were a couple, and he asked, she'd be hurt and likely offended. He'd tried to tiptoe around the subject when he'd brought up taking her on a proper date, but that seemed to backfire and she was cool to him for a few days after that, so he hadn't mentioned it again. It was stupid anyway. She wouldn't want to go backwards and he certainly didn't. He wanted to go forward, very far forward. He didn't want to stop at a shag, he wanted to marry her, he wanted her to have his children, he wanted to wake up next to her every morning for the rest of his life, but he couldn't say any of that. He'd likely scare her away if he piled all his need on her in one big go. He had to relax, but it was difficult when he felt so on edge.

Despite the intervening weeks, he still felt like they were at war. He was on heightened alert. He still never slept more than a few hours at a stretch. He kept waking up to take his turn at watch. He kept having nightmares. By far the most pervasive was the one in which he was stuck in the cellar of Malfoy Manor unable to get to Hermione while she screamed. Her screams haunted many of his nights, but when they didn't, those soft little noises she'd made in bed with him the night after the last battle woke him sweaty and hard. She was making him crazy and she wasn't doing anything except walking around living her life. She was leaning against the railing staring out at the pond in a perfectly innocent manner and all he could think about was what she would look like naked in that position and what he'd like to do to her if she was. He shook his head to clear the image.

"Oi," Ginny said, as she and Harry walked down the path to the pond. "Come join us for a swim. It's bloody hot today."

"I don't have a suit," Hermione said. Ron bit back a moan.

"You can borrow one of mine," Ginny said. Ron looked at the bikini Ginny was wearing and thought Hermione would look smashing in it, but his hopes were dashed.

"That's alright," Hermione said. "I've had enough sun. I think I'll go read." She looked at Ron.

"I think I'll finish chopping wood," he said. "Or I might take a nap. Maybe both."

"Alright," she said. She stood there worrying her bottom lip for a moment before walking back to the house.

xXx

She didn't understand Ron, but she was happy they seemed to have resolved the Viktor issue without it erupting into a full-blown row. She'd have to try waiting for him to speak first again. At least he hadn't pressed her about flying lessons with Viktor, otherwise she would have had to choose between lying to him or risking a real row with the truth.

Viktor had quickly assessed her problem on a broom. On their third attempt at getting her comfortable in the air, he had announced that flying wasn't for everyone and she had other talents. He did however, keep the Tuesday evening reservation of the pitch. They spent most of their time in a tucked away corner of the stadium chatting and snogging. She wouldn't be sharing that part of the story with Ron. She'd thought Ron was going to kiss her in the gazebo, but then he hadn't. Sometimes, she deeply regretted her decision to let him make the next move. He had touched her neck in the Lovegoods' garden in what could only be interpreted as a sensual manner, but it wasn't as if it could have gone anywhere given that they had an audience, so she wasn't sure what he'd meant by it, if anything, but then it's not as if it could have been an accidental gesture. She let out a quiet groan. He was making her crazy. She needed something else to focus on, but there wasn't anything, at least not until she got the letter from Hogwarts. If McGonagall would just send that out, then she could at least start revisions. She stopped. She didn't really need the letter to do that. Since it was independent study to challenge the exams, she could start revisions now. Revisions. Revisions were exactly what she needed. She picked up her pace back to the house.

xXx

Molly was in the kitchen reading Witch Weekly when Hermione came into the kitchen. "Hullo, dear, I think the others are going down to the pond for a swim."

"Yes," Hermione said. "I saw Harry and Ginny."

George went through the kitchen in his swim trunks with a towel over his shoulder. "You coming, Granger?"

"I don't think so," Hermione said, and turned back to Mrs. Weasley. "Do you have any books, besides Beedle the Bard that are written in Ancient Runes?"

"Several, are you looking for anything specific?" Molly asked.

"No, just advanced reading."

"Those are all in the bookcase in our room."

"Oh," Hermione said. She'd never been in Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom.

"Come on then, I'll show you."

Hermione followed her upstairs where they met Fleur on the landing. She was in a deep blue swimsuit, with a matching sarong tied around her waist. "Are you coming swimming?" she asked Hermione.

"No," Hermione said.

"Why?" Fleur asked. "It's such a hot day. If you're worried about the plaster on your neck, we can make it watertight."

"It's not that," Hermione said. "I just don't feel like it."

Fleur gave her a concerned look but said, "Alright," and continued downstairs.

Hermione followed Mrs. Weasley into her bedroom. She wasn't sure what she'd expected but she was surprised by how large it was. There was a king-sized bed and a sitting area and an ensuite bathroom. In essence, their bedroom was a haven from the chaos that was the Burrow. Hermione had a new appreciation for Ron's parents and understood why they went to bed early so often. There was a large bookcase that covered one wall at the end of the room. Molly pointed out that on three of the overflowing shelves were books written in Ancient Runes. "I'm sure something in here will suit you," Molly said.

"This is perfect," Hermione said as she scanned the spines. "Do you mind if I borrow two or three?"

"Go right ahead. I'm the only one who reads them anyway."

"Thank you," Hermione said, reaching for a book on the history of Viking magic.

"That's a very interesting book," Molly said. Hermione set it aside and continued looking. "Why are you planning to spend the day reading instead of swimming with the others?"

Hermione shrugged. "Just in the mood to read, I guess."

Molly made a tutting sound. "What's the matter? Ron hasn't come back for a swimsuit either."

"It's nothing," Hermione said.

"Have you two had a row?" Molly asked.

"No. It's nothing to do with Ron. I just don't have a suit. Ginny offered me one of hers, but—"

Molly frowned. "They're much too revealing." She shook her head. "That girl."

"It's not that. I'd be happy to wear one, only, I don't like for the scar to show."

Molly cocked her head at her. "I don't understand. Fleur told you we can make the plaster water tight."

"I'm not talking about my neck. I'm talking about the one on my chest from fifth year. My bathing suits cover it, but none of Ginny's would."

"Oh," Molly said. "I didn't realize…well of course, that makes sense. I could take you shopping."

Hermione shook her head. "There's no need. I'm fine. I'm not a keen swimmer anyway."

"If you're sure."

"I am." Hermione said, and reached for a volume on goblins. Perhaps it would give her some insight into the goings-on at Gringott's.

"Bill gave me that last Christmas," Molly said. "Very interesting. Fascinating creatures, goblins."

Hermione leaned over to look at the next shelf.

"So, why doesn't Ron take off his shirt anymore?" Molly asked.

Hermione stopped looking at the books and stood up straight. "You'd have to ask him."

"I'm asking you."

Hermione sighed and turned around to face Ron's very concerned mother. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you unless he asks me to."

Molly frowned.

Hermione stood straighter.

"Impressive loyalty between you three," Molly finally said.

"It's the only thing that kept us alive," Hermione answered honestly.

Molly nodded. "Take whatever you like," she said and started for the door.

"I'll just start with these two," Hermione said and followed her out, closing the door to the sanctuary behind her.

xXx

Unfortunate timing had Ron walking into the kitchen from the garden just as Hermione and his mother came downstairs.

"Ah," Molly said. "This is perfect then. Ron take off your shirt."

"What?" Ron said.

"You heard me. I want to see what you've been hiding. If you've gone and gotten some ridiculous tattoo like Charlie—"

"Mum—" Ron said.

"I want to see. I insist actually."

Ron looked at Hermione who seemed on the verge of tears. "No."

"Don't you tell me no!" his mother shouted. "I gave birth to you! No is not an option!"

Ron frowned. His mother was impossible and there was no way she'd let this go now that she'd started. She'd enlist his father and his brothers and Ginny and they'd badger him to death until they all knew and it would be horrible. "Fine," Ron said. "But this isn't for mass consumption. You can tell dad, but no one else."

His mother looked scared for a moment, but she nodded her head.

"Come on, I don't want anyone walking in," Ron said as he headed for the stairs. His mother and Hermione followed. "Where are you going?" Ron asked Hermione.

"With you," she said.

"No," Ron said. "You don't need to be part of this."

"I am part of it. I'll not have you take the blame for something that's my fault."

"It's not your bloody fault," Ron growled.

"Let's just go upstairs," his mother said. We can sort this out in our room." She led the way and Ron and Hermione followed. Once inside his parents' bedroom, he closed the door and stood facing the two women. "When we escaped from the Ministry, we Disapparated. It was a panic move, so Hermione took all three of us instead of us going separately. Unfortunately, some goon managed to grab her foot as we Disapparated."

"You Disapparated with four people?" Molly said.

Hermione nodded, tearing up. "I was already going when he grabbed me. It was too late to stop and since you can't talk while Disapparating, there was no way to tell Ron and Harry what was happening. I couldn't shake him off until we got to Grimmauld Place, but that broke the Fidelius Charm, so I had to immediately take us somewhere else. I chose the Forest of Dean. That's when I Splinched Ron. I'm so sorry."

"Let me see," his mother said.

Ron pulled off his T-shirt and his mother made a little cry and ran her fingers over the spiral scar around the missing chunk at the top of his bicep. "Oh, Ron," she gasped.

"I'm fine, Mum. Don't fuss now. It's fine. Hermione took care of me. Tell her," he turned but Hermione wasn't in the room. Ron went across the hall to Ginny's room. Hermione was crying and shoving clothes as quickly as she could into her beaded bag. "What are you doing?"

"Going," she choked out.

"Are you mad?" Ron said.

"You think your mum will be able to stand the sight of me now that she knows I've Splinched you?"

"Yes, because you saved my life, and more importantly Harry's, in the process."

She paused and looked at him. "I don't think she's likely to see it that way."

"But I see it that way," Ron said. "And you should see it that way too. You can't leave. The Auror's haven't even cleared your parents' place yet."

"I can put wards around the shed. I've already stayed there, so I know it's safe. I'll be fine."

"Bollocks! You aren't going anywhere!" Ron roared.

"Oh, there you are," his mother said, stepping into the room as though Ron weren't just shouting. "You brilliant girl," she said and hurried over to Hermione and hugged her. "You brilliant, brilliant girl."

Hermione shook her head. "But I Splinched him," she choked out.

Molly nodded and continued hugging her. "That must have been so frightening."

"Maybe I should have landed at Grimmauld Place, we might have been able to fight him off together," Hermione said weakly.

"Bollocks," Ron scoffed. "The second he landed he would've touched his Dark Mark and then we would've been surrounded by Death Eaters. You would've been mad to land."

"He's right," his mother said, holding Hermione by the shoulders. "You did the only thing you could've done and you saved all three of you."

"But," Hermione said, wiping her cheeks with her hand.

"And," his mother continued, looking at Ron's shoulder. "You did a nice job with the healing."

"We had Essence of Dittany and Blood Replenishing Potion," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Ron said. "And we had them because you packed them and the tent and loads of other stuff we needed in that little bag of yours and kept it with you all the time." He looked at her. "And you still do, don't you?"

She blushed as she nodded. "I haven't quite been able to let go of it yet."

His mother put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "All in good time, dear. No need to rush until you're ready. I think I'll go make some tea, maybe open a packet of biscuits. I'm a bit peckish."

"Sounds good, Mum," Ron said. He was surprised his mother shut the door behind her as she left the room.

"I don't understand," Hermione said, clearly stunned by his mother's reaction.

Ron sat on the edge of her bed. "Because you're mental and she's not." Hermione frowned at him and he took her hands in his. "War is dangerous business. I got hurt doing something we knew was dangerous that could have gotten us all killed. We knew that going in. The fact that all three of us survived is a bloody miracle. You know that."

"But if—"

"Stop doing that," Ron said. "Stop second guessing yourself. You did the best you could in the moment. That's all any of us can do in situations like that."

She ran her fingers lightly over the scar and his flesh goose pimpled. "I still have nightmares about this."

"I know, but that's all they are. They don't mean anything. You saved us all. That's what matters." He pulled her to him and rested his forehead against her chest. She rested her head on top of his. Her hands were cool and felt good against the warm skin on the back of his neck. He wanted to nuzzle her, wanted to slip off her shirt to feel her skin against his. He wanted so many things, but as usual, this was neither the time nor the place. He could hear the others coming in downstairs. "I should get dressed," he said reluctantly.

She backed away from him. Her eyes were dark and the tip of her tongue lightly touched her top lip as he pulled his T-shirt back on. Not for the first time, he wondered if she was thinking along the same lines he was.

The door burst open and Ginny entered laughing. "A snapping turtle bit George. You should see him hopping around downstairs. Oh, hey." She stopped. "Um…"

Ron cleared his throat. "I hope Mum doesn't heal it before I get down there," he said and hurried out of the room.

xXx

"I'm sorry," Ginny said to Hermione. "Did I interrupt something?"

"No."

"Then what's going on? You've been crying."

Hermione sighed. She'd forgotten to cast the charm to cover her tears. "I'm fine, just a rough morning. I shouldn't be such a baby."

"So, you two weren't having a row?"

"No."

"Alright," Ginny said, but she didn't seem sure.

Hermione picked up the book on the history of Viking magic and left Ginny to get changed. Everyone else was still in the kitchen where George was sitting on one of the benches examining his now healed foot. His mother was putting away her wand.

"You big baby," Angelina was saying to George.

"Ang, that's not fair," George said. "Did you see the size of that turtle. It could have bitten off a toe. I've already lost an ear!"

Harry laughed. "Come on, that turtle was tiny, probably only a few weeks old."

"Since when are you a turtle expert?" George said.

"Why did you walk all the way back here to heal it?" Hermione asked. She looked at Fleur. "Did you not have your wand?"

"Oh, I had it," Fleur said dryly. "Someone was too scared to let me heal him."

Hermione gave George a withering look. "You're an idiot."

"Oi, hey!" George said, looking at Ron. "Are you going to let her talk to me like that?"

Ron snorted. "Yeah, cause she's right. Fleur is a medic. She's great with healing spells. She certainly could have handled a tiny turtle bite."

"It wasn't tiny!" George insisted. "What do you know? You weren't even there."

"I know Fleur's a good healer," Ron said. "She took care of Hermione and Griphook and Mr. Ollivander."

"Hermione's still got a plaster on her neck!" George said. "How good could Fleur be?"

Ron frowned at him. "It was a cursed knife. That's not Fleur's fault."

"Ron," Hermione gasped behind him.

All eyes turned to her.

"Someone slit your throat?" Angelina said, her eyes wide with surprise.

Hermione stood there blinking, not sure how to explain, not sure what she was supposed to say or not say.

"Yes," Molly said. "But we're not going to talk about it anymore. You lot should either go back down to the pond or go get changed. I'm tired of you dripping in my kitchen."

No one moved.

"Go on then!" Molly said sternly.

George took Angelina's hand and they went back outside. Fleur squeezed Hermione's arm affectionately before going upstairs to change.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked Hermione. She nodded.

"I'm so sorry," Ron said.

"Don't be," Hermione said. "George and Angelina were the only ones who didn't know anyway. It's not as though we can't trust them. It's fine. I think I'm going to go read in the garden."

Ron watched her go. "What is wrong with me?" he said.

"Nothing," Harry said. "She's right, most of us already knew."

Ron shook his head. "That's not the problem."

"Then what is?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head again. "Never mind." He went upstairs.

Only Harry and Molly were left in the kitchen. "I think I'll go shower," Harry said.

"Alright, dear," Molly said.

xXx

When Fleur came back downstairs, she went outside to find Hermione. She found her on a bench in the shade of the large ash tree at the back of the garden. Hermione was reading, but had a piece of parchment and a quill next to her. Fleur sat down. Hermione tucked the parchment into the book and closed it.

"Are you alright?" Fleur asked her.

"I'm fine."

"Are you really or are you just saying that?" Fleur asked.

"I am. Seriously, I don't care if George and Angelina know," Hermione said. "Not really. It's just kind of jarring to hear it mentioned." She sighed. "I know that doesn't make sense. It's hard to explain."

"It does make sense. You go along and kind of forget about it, but then someone mentions it and it all comes flooding back. I get that."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Not that I've ever been attacked like that, but being a Triwizard Champion had some unforeseen consequences. These days I never think about it, until someone else brings it up, and then it's like I'm right back in it. The nightmare of the tasks, failing to get Gabrielle, Cedric dying, all of it. I know it's not the same, but—"

"No," Hermione said. "That's exactly what it's like."

"Has it healed anymore since the last time I saw it?" Fleur asked.

"Actually, it has. I think I might try it without the plaster by the end of the week."

"Good," Fleur said. "So, I don't suppose I can coax you into helping me make cassoulet for dinner by plying you with good wine?"

Hermione smiled. "You could probably do it with cheap wine."

Fleur huffed. "I don't drink cheap wine."

Hermione chuckled. "Then let's go drink the good stuff."

"Yes!" Fleur said, and they went back into the house.

As they walked, Hermione said, "Perhaps we should ask Ginny to help."

Fleur grimaced. "She doesn't like me."

"She doesn't really know you, besides before the wedding, you were…"

"I was awful," Fleur said, putting a hand over her face. "I was nervous. I don't do well when I'm nervous and Maman makes me very nervous."

"Really?" Hermione said. "She seems so nice."

"Oh, don't misunderstand," Fleur said. "Maman is nice, very nice, but it's just…when we are together…" Fleur shook her head, causing a stunning cascade of blonde hair. "It's a lot of Veela in one place and that's never good."

"You didn't seem nervous," Hermione said.

"I know, but when I'm nervous, I get bitchy. Bill kept telling me to calm down. I tried. I really did, but mostly I failed."

"I'm sorry." Hermione said. "Whenever I'm nervous, I overcompensate by trying to be perfect, so I come across—"

"Like you think you're better than everyone else?" Fleur said.

"Right. Luckily, I've had most of that beaten out of me over the last year."

Fleur chuckled. "Is that lucky?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm going to say 'yes,' because I'm too tired to cry."

Fleur linked her arm with Hermione's. "We are going to drink so much wine tonight."