Interruptions

Chapter 2

Hermione Granger knocked on the door to Ginny Weasley's room, glancing nervously down the stairs. One of her best friends, Harry Potter, had just walked in on an intimate moment between her and her other best friend, Ron Weasley. She and Ron were still awkward around each other; she definitely was not ready to let others see those moments.

"Come in," Ginny's voice rang from inside the room.

Pushing the door open, Hermione practically ran to the bed added to Ginny's room. She threw herself down on the bed, pulling a blanket over her head in one swift motion.

"Oh," Hermione said, her voice muffled by the blanket. "Your mum wants you to help with dinner."

Ginny put down the magazine she had been reading to stare at the bump of bedding that was Hermione Granger. She glanced at her open door and back at her friend, wondering what was going on. Ginny would wager a fair amount of galleons that it had something to do with Ron. The summer so far had been marked by odd behavior from both of them: Ron was nicer, and Ginny could only describe Hermione's behavior as girlish. She closed her magazine – marking the page on the Holyhead Harpies. She stood up and let out a sigh, preparing herself to hear more about her brother than she cared to. However, Hermione was her friend, and Ginny was there to give her support.

"Hermione?" Ginny said tentatively. She sat down on the edge of the bed, careful to miss the lumps that were most like appendages. She glanced around, waiting for her to answer. When Hermione did not, Ginny let out a sigh. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Hermione said flatly. She wasn't about to admit to Ron's sister that the only thing she wanted right now was to be left alone for a moment with Ron to let out all of that pent up energy. "No, I'm fine," she repeated, pulling the blanket back. She looked up at her friend and smiled. "Your mum wanted your help."

Ginny stood up, staring at her friend, unconvinced. Hermione was lying; Ginny could just feel it. The curly-haired witch was just trying to cover up her problems with a fake smile. Ginny walked towards her door, but quickly turned back, hoping to catch Hermione returning to her state of misery.

However, Hermione simply looked mildly amused at Ginny's actions. "What are you doing?" she asked, sitting up in her bed.

"Uh," Ginny began awkwardly, "nothing." She still did not believe that Hermione was all right. It was useless to try to get her to talk however; Hermione only opened up when she was ready, Ginny had learned. "Do you want to help with dinner too?" Ginny asked with a pleading smile.

Laughter echoed in the small bedroom. "No, I'd rather not." Hermione pulled the blanket up around her neck. "Mrs. Tonks is trying to convince your mum that I should get married and have a baby," Hermione finished with an exaggerated eyebrow raise. She plopped back onto the bed dramatically.

Ginny looked at Hermione, not knowing what to say. She turned to walk out the door, a confused look plastered on her face. "Wha-?" she said, turning back to Hermione. She shook her head quickly, waving her hand dismissively at her friend. "Never mind, I don't want to know." She shook her head again as she walked down the stairs, out of view of Hermione.

Hermione sighed, staring up at the ceiling. She folded her hands over her stomach, content with staying in Ginny's room for the rest of the night. She could not take another moment with Ron being interrupted; it was frustrating and annoying. It seemed like no one understood that they just needed to be alone, just for a moment.

She rolled over on her side, brushing the floor with her fingertips. Hermione glanced up at Ginny's bedside table; next to a withering sunflower, stood a framed photo of the Weasley family on Bill's wedding day. Hermione's stomach tightened, thinking about Mrs. Tonks' comments. The rational part of Hermione realized that she was much too young to be thinking about marriage; however, that other (much smaller) part was giggling over the thought of being Mrs. Ron Weasley.

It was more than just being with Ron; it was everything (and everyone) that came with a marriage into the Weasley family. Of course, Hermione had her parents, but Ron's family was different.

Hermione had rushed away as soon as she could to retrieve her parents from Australia and restore their memories. They were grateful for Hermione's precautions, however they had a lot of work to catch up on and explaining to do. Hermione had spent a good deal of her time since the end of the war with her parents, however while her parents were at work, she apparated to the Burrow to spend her days with Ron and Harry and to have the occasional dinner with the Weasleys. The last couple of weeks had been different; as Harry's birthday approached, Hermione decided to spend more time with the Weasleys and Harry. Hermione had always known that her parents were much different from Arthur and Molly -- in so many ways, but the last couple of weeks had shown Hermione what she really wanted. She did not want the stuffy and formal life that her parents had; she wanted to have a house full of visitors and family, like the Burrow.

Letting out a groan, she flipped onto her back, feeling extremely restless.

"Reading, eh?"

Hermione looked towards the doorway to Ginny's bedroom and smiled guiltily. Harry was leaning against the doorframe with his hands stuffed in his pockets, grinning. If anyone else had caught her in her fib, she would have been embarrassed and probably would have scrambled to find a book. However, this was Harry. If she could talk to anyone about her problems with Ron, it was him. He understood Ron -- for some reason.

"Oh, Harry," she groaned, sitting up. She tugged at a strand of hair as Harry strode forward and took a seat next to her. He took a moment to survey the situation, then he deemed his instinctual reaction appropriate:

Harry chuckled to himself.

Hermione threw an angry look at Harry, wrinkling her forehead in disapproval. "You know, this is not amusing," she snapped, sounding quite pitiful.

"No, really it is," Harry said, simply. He did not even bother trying to sound sympathetic. Hermione opened her mouth, ready to protest as he held up hand. "Hermione, just listen. Think of everything we have been through in the last four years." He patted her knee, much like her father had on many occasions. "Now, whatever is wrong with you and Ron seems… almost silly, doesn't it?" He cleared his throat, hoping Hermione would not hex him. "You should just be happy that you have each other."

Hermione released her hair and let her hand fall to her side, allowing a silence to fall between them. She suddenly felt very selfish and idiotic. She glanced at her raven-haired friend and sighed. He was right; Hermione should be grateful that they were alive and well. She felt the familiar prickling of tears, realizing how ashamed she was.

"Hermione, no," Harry said, quickly as a tear fell out of the corner of her eye. He put an arm around her shoulders. "No, no. Don't cry!" She put her hands over her face and leaned forward onto her knees. Harry looked around, feeling uncomfortable. Since when did Hermione act like this? She never really took criticism well, but she usually did not break down and cry.

Harry realized that he might have come off too harshly. He did mean what he said however; it seemed ridiculous to worry about things like this when months ago they were worrying about their very lives. Harry squeezed Hermione's shoulders tightly.

"I- I'm sorry," she choked out between sniffles. "I am being so stupid." She sat up and wiped her face quickly. "You are right, Harry. I am lucky to be alive." She sniffled loudly.

Harry smiled weakly. "Right, then." He pulled his arm away, putting his hands in his lap. "What are you going to do about it then?"

"Well," she began, "I'm not sure about that yet." She glanced over at Harry. "Don't tell anyone about this." She chuckled to herself. "There's enough pressure as it is." Hermione stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her turquoise shirt. Sighing, she bit her lip. "This is it, isn't Harry?"

He cocked his head to the side, leaning back on the bed to look at his bushy-haired friend. "Hm?" Harry was perplexed; Hermione was just all over the place today.

"We're not children anymore," she said, her eyes staring at the Weasley family photo. It reminded her of the photo of the family when they had visited Bill in Egypt. She closed her eyes, remembering what it looked like, what the family had looked like. They were whole then. They were young and happy. She let out a sigh as she reopened her eyes.

Harry knew when someone needed some time to themselves. Hermione had that look right now; that look that said she was discovering something. He walked towards the door, gently squeezed her shoulder as he went. She tilted her head toward his hand, feeling his knuckles graze her cheek as he let go.

"I'll be downstairs. See you at dinner," Harry said softly. He waited for her nod in response before he left the youngest Weasley's room.

Hermione reached down into her bag, lying on the floor. She pulled out her wand and swished it towards her hair. Her long locks of curly brown hair quickly arranged themselves in an elegant braid. She touched the back of her neck, feeling very warm. Deciding to change into something cooler before dinner, she produced a skirt and sleeveless shirt from her trunk. She shut the door with a snap and quickly reassured herself that she was not changing for Ron -- even if she looked amazing in that skirt.

"Well, is she all right?" Ron asked, glancing up the staircase of the Burrow. He scratched the back of his neck nervously. Harry nodded at his freckled-friend, smiling -- mostly to himself. Even after a half an hour of reassurance, Ron was not completely convinced that Hermione was indeed fine. "She wasn't mad at you?" Ron inquired.

"No," Harry replied. "Wait a moment. Why would she be mad at me?" He furrowed his brow as Ron sat down on the couch, still keeping his eyes on the stairs.

"Well, because you interrupted," Ron said in a whisper. He shot Harry a look and said, "Obviously, if she is upset, it is all your fault."

"Look here," Harry said, pointing at his friend. "This -- whatever this is -- is not my fault." He crossed his arms, apparently trying to appear upset and authoritative. "You need to make a realmove already, Weasley." He scoffed, looking sternly at Ron.

Turning towards the other young man, Ron held up his hands. "Don't you think I know that Harry?" He shook his head. "Bloody hell, I'mtrying, all right?" He quickly returned his attention to the stairs, making sure he was ready when Hermione came down them. "You try getting a moment alone with.. erm, Ginny, around here." The tips of his ears turned red when he mentioned Harry and Ginny. Ron immediately thought of all the things he wanted to do to Hermione and shuddered at the thought of Harry doing that to his little sister. "Oh, gross," Ron said aloud, shaking his arms as if he were trying to get the thought off of him.

Harry raised an eyebrow and decided that he was just going to let this situation be. He turned to walk into the kitchen, but ran into Ginny instead. "Oh, hey," he said, smiling. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from cooking, Harry reasoned. Her hair was sticking out of her bun at odd angles and her shirt was covered in flour. Harry still thought she looked beautiful.

"Hi Harry," she said brightly. "Is Hermione still upstairs?" He nodded, motioning towards Ron's watchdog appearance. Ginny giggled. "Right then. Mum says dinner is almost ready." She put her hand on Harry's shoulder, giving herself a boost to kiss his cheek quickly. She smiled as she moved towards the stairs.

"Gin, go for a walk with me later?" Harry asked before she left the room. He gave her his most charming smile, even though he knew she would say yes.

"Sure, Harry. That would be nice," she replied, her freckled cheeks turning even redder. She grinned as she rushed up the stairs towards her bedroom.

Taking a seat next to Ron on the couch, Harry let out a happy sigh. "There you go Ron. 'A moment alone with Ginny.' That wasn't so hard." He gave it all he had not to smirk. He realized this was hard for Ron; he did not want to rub it in -- too much.

Ron turned around, looking at Harry with disgust. He folded his arms across his chest and sunk into the couch. "Show-off."

Harry decided a long while ago that they were free. They were safe and could have real lives now. He could be with Ginny without having to worry about her getting hurt. Ron and Hermione could be together without having to worry about the next adventure. Yet, here they were, making a big deal out of this. If they wanted to be together, they should just be together. In Harry's mind, it was that simple. He glanced over at his friend who was still nervously glancing over his shoulder. Obviously, Ron had a different mindset about this. If they wanted to be alone, they would find a way to be alone. Harry sighed; they were just scared, that's all it was.

"Ron, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen. "Dinner is ready!" She appeared in the doorway, holding a tray full of biscuits. "The girls will be down in time," she said, smiling. "I promise. Come now." She disappeared into the kitchen, returning to her chat with Mrs. Tonks.

Harry stood up and pulled Ron up along with him -- a notable feat on Harry's part. "Seriously Ron, she's all right." He rolled his eyes. Merlin's beard, Harry thought, all they were doing wasstanding close to each other. What would they have done if I had walked in on them kissing, he wondered, or something else.

Having the table already set, Mrs. Weasley rounded the table, pouring various drinks into cups. Mrs. Tonks insisted on drinking milk, while George very adamantly requested butterbeer for dinner. As of late, Mrs. Weasley tried her best to please the small requests of her family. It seemed the least she could do.

Mrs. Tonks was sipping the rest of her cup of tea as they waited for the girls to join the table. She smiled at Ron several times as he craned his neck to see the staircase. Each time he noticed she was staring at him, he returned her smile awkwardly and settled back into his chair. The fourth time this happened, Ron turned to Harry with raised eyebrows.

"Mrs. Tonks keeps staring at me," Ron mumbled quickly to his dark-haired friend. Harry shrugged, reaching for a biscuit from the tray. Harry was starving and the last thing on his mind was Ron's paranoia.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, waving her wand at him menacingly. "Wait for the rest of the family."

He pulled back his hand, but smiled as he did so. The rest of the family, she had said. Harry knew that the Weasley's considered him part of the family, but it was just nice to hear it sometimes. He truly did have a family here and was certain that he always would.

"Sorry, mum!" Ginny said in a rush as she and Hermione entered the kitchen. "I needed to clean up a bit." She threw a smile in Harry's direction as she took a seat next to Mrs. Tonks.

"Oh, that's all right dear," Mrs. Weasley said happily. "Now, who wants some chicken?" She held up the large dish full of broiled chicken, waving the meat fork across the steaming food.

Usually, the first to fill his plate was Ron, however at this particular dinner, he was far more concerned with Hermione. In fact, he was staring openly at her as the rest of the family began to scoop piles of mash potatoes and carrots onto their plates. Hermione smiled at him as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

By the time Ginny arrived back in her room, Hermione had changed into a maroon tank top and a jean skirt. Although Ginny found it rather odd that Hermione had changed her outfit in the middle of the day, she decided to keep her comments to herself. Hermione had not been in a very cheery mood all day, and Ginny certainly did not want to make it worse.

Even though Ginny had not drawn attention to this change, Ron was noticing more than his fair share. The youngest Weasley boy smiled absent-mindedly, letting his eyes wander over the abnormal amount of bare skin. Hermione rarely wore sleeveless shirts or anything that did not seem to come up to her neck. In Ron's opinion, Hermione always looked lovely; it was just nice to get to see a bit more of her loveliness.

"Ron," Harry said, elbowing him in the side. "Take the chicken, would you?"

George rolled his eyes, reaching across the dazed Ron to take the plate of chicken. "Bloody hell Ron," he whispered, grumpily. "What are you going to do when you see her na-"

"Shut it!" Ron snapped, breaking out of his reverie. He quickly glanced around the table to see if anyone else had heard his brother. Luckily, no one had. Ginny was whispering with Hermione, while Mrs. Weasley and Tonks discussed the creamy taste of the potatoes. Ron picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of chicken, giving George a dirty look in the process. He plopped the chicken on his plate and reached for the mashed potatoes.

"So then, how is everyone's holiday?" Mrs. Tonks said, looking around the table. She received several blank stares, much to her dislike. She sighed, opting for the direct approach instead. "George, how is the shop?"

"Oh, business has picked up a bit," he said, nodding. As of late, the Weasley Wizard Wheezes was a touchy subject around George. Since his brother's death, George had hired a manager to take over the day to day business. He spent far more time at the Burrow now than at the flat in London. It was an unspoken agreement not to push George into returning to work before he was ready. The shop had been his and Fred's creation and everything about it reminded everyone -- especially George -- of Fred. The wounds were still healing, and all George, all anyone needed was time.

George cleared his throat. "I was thinking I should get back to London soon." He glanced over at his mother cautiously. It was clear that Mrs. Weasley had been clinging to her remaining children. Bill, Charlie, and Percy had all been out on their own for some time now, but now she was faced with Ron and Ginny leaving as well. When George returned home after the war, Mrs. Weasley fussed over him more than anyone else -- and with good reason. The loss of Fred was difficult for everyone, but it was particularly hard for George.

Mrs. Weasley nodded, a mixture of hurt and resolution on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it, deciding to give her son another nod instead. Molly Weasley was an intelligent woman; she knew she could not keep George at home forever.

"Well, that's good news then," Mrs. Tonks said, glancing from Mrs. Weasley to George. The entire table seemed to be watching Mrs. Weasley closely, waiting for her to say something -- anything really. Ginny held a forkful of carrots inches from her mouth, staring at her mother expectantly. Beside her, Hermione was nervously glancing from each Weasley to Mrs. Tonks. The whole situation was rather delicate. Ron was the only one who did not seemed too concerned.

Harry uncomfortably cleared his throat. "I - I ran into Kingsley while I was in London yesterday." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as everyone turned to look at him. "He asked me to join the Auror department."

To Harry, it seemed like everyone was talking at once; he could pick out a number of congratulations. George was grinning from the other side of Ron, while Mrs. Weasley was clapping her hands together excitedly. "Does Arthur know? You know, he talks with Kingsley all the time. I mean, the Minister!"

Ron clapped Harry on the back. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, mate?"

Harry had little time to respond to anyone. He glanced over at Ginny who was smiling broadly. He felt her foot tap his under the table as Hermione began reciting little known facts about Aurors - such that it was impossible to be accepted to training without receiving at least five N.E.W.T.s.

"I mean, you did not even take your N.E.W.T.s, Harry," Hermione continued.

"Hermione," Ron scolded. "It's Harry. He defeated You-Know-Who." He shook his head at her. "The Ministry isn't going to say 'Oh sorry Harry Potter, we know you saved us and all, but, oh, you did not complete your N.E.W.T.s You can't be an Auror.' Will they?"

"That's not what I was saying, Ronald," Hermione snapped. "I was only saying… they don't take just anyone." Hermione turned to Harry. "Congratulations, Harry. It's extraordinary, really."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said. "I didn't think I'd be allowed."

Mrs. Tonks, looking a bit teary, congratulated Harry. "Nymphadora was about your age when she decided she wanted to be an Auror." She straightened herself in her chair. "You'll make a fine Auror, Harry, just like my daughter." Mrs. Weasley patted her on the arm, smiling weakly.

Mrs. Weasley glanced around the table, happily. "Any more news we should share?" Immediately, Andromeda looked expectantly at Ron who was stuffing mash potatoes into his mouth.

He looked up, noting that everyone was now staring at him. He swallowed the large amount of food; his eyes watering in the process. "No?" he said, furrowing his brow. He glanced across the table at Hermione, who simply shrugged in response. Ron had not been thinking much about what he wanted to do now. His mother and Mrs. Tonks were staring at him, causing Ron to become increasingly uncomfortable. He glanced around the table, hoping someone would save him from this scrutiny.

"So, what's for dessert?" he said instead.

"Pass the sponge, Ron," Hermione said, dipping her hands in the dish water. Ron walked up beside her, handing her a bright yellow sponge while landing the pile of dirty dishes on the counter next to her. Ron let out a disgruntled sigh, looking around the empty kitchen.

At the request of Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Tonks took their tea in the living room. Ginny and Harry left for their walk shortly after dessert. Much to Ron's dismay, this left them with the dishes.

Ron leaned against the counter, staring at the soapy water. "Why don't we just magic them clean?" He let out a yawn, patting his stomach.

Hermione turned to look at him, a smile playing on her lips. "Just because you can, doesn't mean you should use magic to do everything." She grabbed a towel from the counter, throwing it at Ron. "You're drying."

"You know," Ron began, hovering near her shoulder. "You sound a lot like my mum." He pushed a stack of cookbooks to the side, making room on the counter to sit. He hopped up next to the sink, putting his hands and towel in his lap.

"What are you doing?" Hermione said, rinsing off a plate and putting it in the empty side of the sink.

"Sitting," he said, smiling as he picked up the plate and wiped it with the towel. He levitated the dry dish to the proper cupboard, receiving an eye roll from Hermione. "What? I dried it, didn't I?"

"You did," Hermione agreed. She continued to scrub the dishes, creating a pile for Ron to dry and put away. Surprisingly with little complaint, Ron dried the dishes and put them away as he went. "So," Hermione said, breaking the silence, "what did you get Harry for his birthday?'

"A bit of Quidditch things," he said, placing a large cup in the cupboard next to his head. "And a book."

"A book?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow at her ginger-haired friend.

He grinned at her surprise. "Yes," he mocked, "a book." He shrugged his shoulders. "Harry had mentioned how he wanted to be an Auror before tonight; so I got him a book about them. About the history of the department and famous Aurors. Mad-Eye is in it." He scratched the back of his neck, trying to ignore that sinking feeling that came over him whenever he talked about someone they had lost. "I thought he'd like it."

Hermione nodded. "He will." She put another dish in the sink. "You know him well enough, Ron. You know what he likes." Hermione looked over at him. "I got him a photo album." She smiled weakly. "Do you think it's silly?"

Ron shook his head as he wiped a number of utensils off at once. "No, not at all. What sort of photos did you put in it?"

"Oh, all sorts!" she said, excitedly. "Of course, there are photos of us in there and your family. Some from Bill and Fleur's wedding. Your mum helped me get some photos of Harry's parents. And Sirius." She cleared her throat, feeling a lump forming. "And Lupin and Tonks. Mrs. Tonks had a few she let me have."

Ron quickly reached over, hearing the tears in her voice. "He's going to love it, Hermione," he said, searching for her soapy hand in the water. She put down the sponge as Ron grabbed her other hand.

Hermione looked up in surprise as Ron wiped a tear off of her cheek with a single finger. She had not even realized she was crying. Ron pulled her away from the sink to stand in front of him. He wiped her hands on the towel before wrapping his arms around her shoulders as more tears began to fall. She sniffled as she moved closer to him. Hermione put her arms around his chest, burying her face in his shoulder.

Moments like this had become common around the Burrow. Everyone tried to move on and continue life, but there were times when it was hard to hold back the grief. Ron had become accustomed to holding Hermione while she cried or talking George through a rough day.

Running his hand soothingly through her hair, Ron waited for Hermione's tears to subside. She whimpered against his shoulder, holding onto his chest tightly. She mumbled something against his shirt, but he could not understand her. "What?" he asked, pulling her back slightly.

She reached up, wiping at her eyes. "It's just so much, you know?" She hiccupped, fighting back more tears. "Everything happened so quickly. Sometimes, Teddy will do something, and I'll want to know more about metamorphmagus powers. So I think, oh, I'll just ask Tonks." She let out a sob. "But then I remember, I can't. And it's so ridiculous. I should know; that's why Teddy is even here."

Ron pulled her back into a hug, feeling his shirt being soaked immediately by more tears. Pressing her cheek against his chest, Hermione closed her eyes as Ron ran his hand up and down her back.

"It's not fair. It's really just a load of rubbish," Ron said, searching for words as he went. "But, we're still here, and w-we ought to just remember what great wizards -- and witches -- they were." He shrugged.

"Yes, you're right," Hermione said, lifting her head to look up at him. "Ron, you are much brighter than you let on."

Ron tilted his head to the side, clearly deciding if he should take that as an insult or a compliment. "Er, thanks, Hermione?" he offered with a smile.

A smile spread across her face as she let out a long sigh. Ron stared at her, realizing that she never looked quite as beautiful as when she let her guard down. This was Hermione Granger standing in front of him with a tear stained face and wrinkling dish-water hands. Ron hunched down to get closer to her. He gently cupped her face in his hand, wiping away a few stray tears from her cheek with his thumb. She instinctively tilted into his touch, closing her eyes as he gently stroked her skin.

"Hermione," Ron said softly, causing her to reopen her eyes. His face was only inches from hers, his eyes staring deeply into hers. "This is what I have been thinking. Would you like to go on a date with me Saturday night? Just us?"

Her stomach did a small flip as gave her his signature lopsided grin. She nodded, trying in vain to find words. "Datesoundsgreat," she blurted out quickly. She shook her head as she momentarily closed her eyes in embarrassment. "I mean, I would love to."

Ron chuckled quietly, pulling her closer. She put her hands on each of his thighs, boosting herself up, allowing him to sit up. She could feel the warmth of his skin radiating against her cheek as she took a deep breath; her stomach tied itself in knots as the musky scent of Ron filled her nostrils. Ron slipped his hand down around the base of her neck, gently guiding her lips towards his. Hermione closed her eyes, feeling the hair on her arms stand up as Ron's lips were only a fraction of an inch from hers.

A large pop echoed in the small kitchen, causing Ron to quickly snap up, hitting the back of his head on the cupboard behind him. Hermione jumped away from Ron, throwing herself toward the sink and the remaining dishes.

Mr. Weasley, completely unaware, turned around after placing his traveling cloak on a hook near the door. "Hello Ron, Hermione!" He smiled broadly at his son. "You had better get off the counter before your mother sees you," he warned, drawing closer to the two teenagers.

Ron slinked off of the counter, grabbing the towel he had thrown to the side. Arthur clapped his son on the shoulder as he passed on his way to the living room. "What's left over?" Ron heard him ask Molly.

Ron let out a sigh, looking over at Hermione. "Sorry," he said under his breath. She simply shrugged in response, placing a plate in the sink. He turned around as the back door of the Burrow opened. Harry and Ginny walked in -- hand in hand, Ron noted. His sister slipped her hand out of Harry's, spotting Ron's sour look.

"How is it then?" Harry asked, a large grin on his face.

Ron promptly slugged Harry in the shoulder, turning back to the dishes with a huff.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Author's note: Thanks for reading! Please review as I do appreciate the feedback!

Next chapter is Harry's birthday party.