We Open at the Close (Drarry)

Trouble with Towels

"I didn't really appreciate how much Kreacher got done around here until now," Harry admitted. "Maybe I can have him back at the weekends to do the washing for me?" Hermione slapped his arm and Harry laughed. "I'm joking!"

"Housework and naked Malfoys aside, Hermione and I actually came here for a reason," said Ron looking serious all of a sudden. "I'm not sure if you heard, but we thought we'd better come tell you first before you read it in the papers."

Harry groaned and slumped back in his chair. "Christ, what is it now?"

"It's nothing bad," Ron reassured him. "Well, not exactly. It's about Ginny and Neville."

"Oh? Are they alright?"

"Yeah, they're fine mate," said Ron looking a little embarrassed. "More than fine, actually. They're eh...they're getting married."

Harry blinked. "Wow." He took another gulp of his tea before replying, "Congratulations to them both."

Hermione patted Harry on the hand. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Harry's voice was a little more high-pitched than he'd intended. "Honestly, this is great. We're long overdue some good news. Tell them I wished them all the best."

"There'll be a party at The Burrow," said Ron. "You'll come, yeah?"

"Of course, I will," Harry promised. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Ron looked relieved. "Brilliant, 'cause Ginny would love to see you. It's been ages. I'll keep you posted on dates and times. We'll have your birthday party to celebrate first, mind."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Harry rebutted. "I've never been one to celebrate my birthday anyway."

"Too late," said Ron heartily. "Mum's already started organising it. You know better than to argue with her."

After they finished their drinks, Ron and Hermione got to their feet. Hermione rested a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Are you sure that you're alright?" she asked.

"Honestly, I'm fine," he assured them. And to his own surprise, he was. "Really, I'm happy for her. Thanks for letting me know in advance, I'm fed up finding things out through The Prophet."

"Yeah, they're no better than they were before the war," said Ron. "They write some amount of rubbish just to fill column inches."

"And people are stupid enough to believe their nonsense," said Hermione hotly before shaking her head. "Anyway, we better get going. We'll let you and Malfoy enjoy your breakfast in peace."

"You guys can stay for breakfast too, if you'd like?" Harry offered. "It's no trouble."

"Nah, we've had ours already," Ron reentered the living room and waved at Draco before stepping into the fireplace. "See you later, Malfoy."

Draco waved lazily at Ron before turning his attention to Hermione. "Granger! Before you leave, may I have a word with you?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Alright. What's the matter?"

Draco glanced at Ron. "A private one."

Ron and Hermione frowned at each other. Hermione, however, seemed intrigued and nodded. "Okay. Ron, you go ahead, I'll catch up with you in a minute."

Ron stepped back into the fireplace. "I'm only a floo call away if you need me."

In a burst of green flames, Ron vanished from the fireplace. Harry grabbed Draco's empty mug from the coffee table and hurried back into the kitchen to give Draco and Hermione privacy. Hermione took a seat on the winged armchair by the fire while Draco sat upright on the couch. Hermione amused herself at the sight of the man, despite wearing nothing but boxers burn salve, he had the air of someone who was about to conduct a job interview. Draco's face was serious, and (to Hermione's surprise) a little nervous.