Ron Weasley was very disheartened by the lack of snogging in his life at the moment. The night after the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione had climbed the spiral staircase in the Gryffindor dormitories, up higher than the seventh year dorms at the top of the tower, and sat in a little window seat that looked over the cliff and the lake below. They had talked for hours about everything from Ron's time on the run without Harry and Hermione to their plans now that the war was over. And they had kissed. They had kissed quite a lot. And though it was sweet and innocent, and though he had gotten to put his hands in a few more places during his previous relationship with Lavender Brown, Ron had decided it was better. It was definitely better. Because he loved Hermione Granger, and that feeling that had squirmed inside of him whenever they argued was finally able to be taken out and looked at in the light of day. He loved her, and it was obvious in retrospect that he had loved her for quite some time.
But now Hermione was on the opposite side of the world. In the months that followed, they had found it harder and harder to be alone. Wizards from all around Europe were showing up for weeks at a time to volunteer their services. There was the architect who must have been a hundred and a thirty years old who bragged about restoring the greatest pureblooded manors in the country. There was the family of wizards from Salem who had traveled across the Atlantic to help out because they were so grateful that the war had stop before spreading to the Americas. At one point the entire surviving team and staff of the Holyhead Harpies had turned up to volunteer, and then the Tornadoes and the Bats and pretty much every team in the league had come in turns. There were impromptu Quidditch matches and feasts and lectures on advancements in magical research. Between the hard work and the parties, Ron and Hermione hardly had any time to themselves. And then she left to go find her parents, and Ron was alone.
He sat outside The Burrow now in a wizard's tent. They had torn down the burnt-out shell of the house in Ottery St. Catchpole and framed the new house last week. It had taken the whole family to erect the structure. Harry had donated money for supplies. He'd called it a loan, but Ron knew his parents would never be able to pay him back, and Harry would never bring it up. The past few days had been spent floating large stones across the garden to rebuild the wall and directing a dozen hammers to tap the nails in the floorboards into place. The original house had been build in two nights by Arthur Weasley's family the week before his wedding. As their family grew, the house grew up and a little to the left until it became the lop-sided structure that Ron had always known. The final room had been built when Ron was still a baby and Molly was pregnant with Ginny. Ron didn't like how neat the new house looked. Planned and built as a single structure, it stood too straight. They would paint the walls tomorrow, and move furniture in the next day.
As Ron lay back on his cot inside the crowded tent—the same one Hermione had taken on the run with them— he watched his mother carry dishes out to the yard. Arthur Weasley was in a corner tinkering with a muggle radio. Percy, Charlie, and Bill had gone back to their homes to pick up the pieces. George lay on a cot reading a book about business and keeping to himself as he had done a lot this summer. Ginny, who was cooking dinner outside on a camp fire, had come in to search through the crates of food supplies for some herbs. Her bright red hair hung down around her face as she craned over the boxes, and he wondered when in the last year she had grown up so much.
When Molly called them to supper, Ron climbed off of the cot and trudged outside. George was the last one out, and Ron held the tent flap for him. "I was thinking," Ron said, "that next week when this is all set and Mum and Dad don't need us here, I could go with you into London and help clean up the shop. I reckon people will be wanting it open soon. We already missed the back-to-school rush."
"Hmmm," George said, and he forced a smile. "Yes, perhaps we need to print a catalog to send to every kid at Hogwarts."
"It'll be anarchy," Ron said with a smile. "Complete and utter chaos if you do that. Extendable ears around every corner. Instant darkness during every exam."
George chuckled.
Ron hesitated. "Fred would have liked that, I think."
George nodded. "Yeah, he would have."
The brothers sat down together while Arthur ladled stew into bowls and passed them around the table. Molly had hung fairy lights in the garden, and they began to twinkle as the sun set behind the trees. Dinner was quieter than before without the witty exchange of banter between Fred and George. They had always played off each other so well, like a comedy duo with one mind. Now George didn't feel like telling jokes very often.
A shadow moved across the dinner table. An owl swooped overhead and dropped a letter over Ginny. She caught it before it landed in her stew and tore open the thick envelope addressed in green.
"Ginevra Weasley," she read aloud. "We are pleased to announce that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will open on Monday for classes. We apologize for the late notice. We hope to see you at platform nine and three quarters bright and early on Monday morning. Enclosed is your train ticket and list of school supplies. We will work to accommodate students as they wait for supplies to arrive by mail—considering the extraordinary circumstances. Sincerely yours, Professor Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Ron, chewing a heel of bread, froze as she read the letter. When it was done, he swallowed and looked up at the sky. "Where's mine?" he asked. "I know I'm supposed to be done, but I didn't exactly go last year."
Molly reached across the table and patted his hand, "Ronald dear, I'm sure there's just been a mix up. We'll write to Minerva as soon as supper is over."
They didn't have to wait for supper to end to get their answers. There was a loud crack as someone apparated into the garden. A moment later their guest stumbled and fell over. Vines crunched and someone shouted.
"Harry?" Ginny asked, sitting up straight in her chair.
"You moved the garden!" Harry Potter shouted. The whole Weasley family craned their next to look across the yard as Harry Potter, bearded and cover in pumpkin guts, climbed to his feet.
Ginny knocked her chair over, leaving the table, and ran across the lawn to embrace Harry. She kissed him in a way that made Ron turn his head to give them privacy. His face turned red as he waited for a sign that it was safe to look again.
"Did you get a Hogwarts letter?" Ron heard Ginny ask. Ron finally set his eyes back on his best friend. "Ron didn't get one," she said.
"Ron doesn't need one," Harry replied, taking her hand and walking with her to the Weasley's impromptu dining area.
"Harry dear," Molly said, enveloping Harry in a hug. "You need to shave. You look like one of Hagrid's beasts."
"Now, Molly dear, he's not one of your sons," Arthur said. "You don't get to groom him."
"Oh tush, he might as well be. Sit down Harry, eat."
"I just finished a plate of cottage pie," he protested, but Molly had already drawn up a chair and was pushing him down into it. She filled a bowl for him and placed a spoon in his hand.
"What do you mean I don't need a letter?" Ron asked, finding his seat again.
"I've just been speaking with Minister Shacklebolt," Harry said.
"Don't be so stuffy, Harry. Minister Shacklebolt, honestly," George quipped. "You're The Boy Who Lived, twice! You can just make up names for people and they can't say a thing. I think you should call Ron—"
Ron cut him off before George could give him yet another humiliating nickname he would never live down. "What did Shacklebolt say?" Ron asked. "Did he say we're back in? Are we going to Hogwarts Monday?"
"No," Harry said. "You and I are going to London. We've got job offers at the Ministry as aurors. But I'm only accepting it if you come with me."
"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed. "Aurors. But we don't even have our N.E.W.T.s."
"It'd be pretty stupid to make Harry sit for exams now that he's saved the world," Ginny said.
"The world? That's a bit dramatic," Harry said.
"The world. That witch we met from America this summer, she said they were on high alert over there preparing for the war to spread. You-Know... sorry, Voldemort was already thoroughly entrenched in Eastern Europe and North Africa. He had Egypt all but tied-up. And you know—after the Brockdale Bridge—the muggles wouldn't be safe either. The world."
"London," Ron said. "When do we start?"
"Monday," Harry said, scooping up some stew. He had hardly touched his other dinner, and he always had room for more of Mrs. Weasley's cooking. "You can stay with me at Grimmauld place. And when Hermione gets back from wherever she is, we'll track her down and ask her to come, too. Shacklebolt wants all three of us."
"You can save up for a couple months and then have your own flat," Ginny suggested
"My own flat? Harry's my best mate, why would I want to move out?" Ron asked.
Ginny cocked an eyebrow at him, as if asking Do you really need me to answer that, Ron?
Molly Weasley jumped up from the table and disappeared through the flaps of the tent. She came back a minute later with a bottle of champagne. "Arthur and I were saving this for when the house is finished, but I think this is a much more important celebration," she said. "I'm so proud of you boys. Aurors!"
"I thought she couldn't be any prouder of you after you saved the world, Harry," George said. "But clearly my mother's love for you knows no bounds."
They ate and drank champagne, and George even got into a joking spirit while Harry was there. Harry volunteered to stay and help paint the house in the morning, but Molly told him he'd have to be off bright and early so that he and Ron could buy new robes in London for work.
Arthur set up an extra cot in the tent for Harry after dinner. They sat around the camp fire for a while listening to the news on the Wizarding Wireless Network. After Molly and Arthur had gone to bed and George had gone off to be with his book, Ginny asked Harry to take her for a walk around the garden. Ron watched them disappear into the shadows together, and then he thought of Hermione. Hermione. He loved her. Ron got up, went into the tent to grab a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill, and then sat down at the table outside to write her a letter letting her know how much he missed her.