𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐝 {𝐇. 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫}

93

"Happy birthday, Harry!" said Hermione, hurrying into the kitchen in front of Johnny. "This is from Johnny and I. It's not much, but we hope you like it."

"What did you get him?" Johnny asked Ron, who seemed not to hear him.

"Come on, then, open theirs!" said Ron.

Johnny's and Hermione had bought Harry a new Sneakoscope. The other packages contained an enchanted razor from Bill and Fleur ("Ah yes, zis will give you ze smoothest shave you will ever 'ave," Monsieur Delacour assured him, "but you must tell it clearly what you want...ozzerwise you might find you 'ave a leetle less hair zan you would like..."), chocolates from the Delacours, and an enormous box of the latest Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes merchandise from Fred and George.

Johnny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't linger at the table, as the arrival of Madame Delacour, Fleur, and Gabrielle made the kitchen uncomfortably crowded.

"I'll pack these for you," Hermione said brightly, taking Harry's presents out of his arms as the four of them headed back upstairs. "I'm nearly done, I'm just waiting for the rest of your underpants to come out of the wash, Johnny-"

Johnny's splutter was interrupted by the opening of a door on the first-floor landing.

"Harry, will you come in here a moment?"

It was Ginny. Ron came to an abrupt halt, but Johnny took him by the elbow and tugged him on up the stairs.

"Do you want to go see what they're up to?" Ron asked five minutes later as they sat in awkward silence. Johnny and Hermione held a silent conversation with their eyes, and by the time they went to refuse for Harry and Ginny's sake, Ron was already out the door. The door banged open and Harry and Ginny jumped apart.

"Oh," said Ron stupidly. "Sorry."

"Ron!" Hermione and Johnny caught up to him, slightly out of breath. There was a strained silence, then Ginny had said in a flat little voice, "Well, happy birthday anyway, Harry."

Ron's ears were scarlet; Hermione and Johnny looked nervous.

"I'll see you later," Harry said, and followed Ron, Hermione and Johnny out of the bedroom.

Ron marched downstairs, though the still-crowded kitchen and into the yard, and Harry kept pace with him all the way, Hermione and Johnny trotting along behind them.

Once he reached the seclusion of the freshly mown lawn, Ron rounded on Harry.

"You ditched her. What are you doing now, messing her around?"

"I'm not messing her around," said Harry, as Hermione and Johnny caught up with them.

"Ron-"

But Ron held up a hand to silence Hermione.

"She was really cut up when you ended it-"

"So was I. You know why I stopped it, and it wasn't because I wanted to."

"Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she's just going to get her hopes up again-"

"She's not an idiot, she knows it can't happen, she's not expecting us to- to end up married, or-"

"If you keep groping her every chance you get-"

"It won't happen again," said Harry harshly. "Okay?"

Ron looked half resentful, half sheepish; he rocked backward and forward on his feet for a moment, then said, "Right then, well, that's... yeah."

As Harry's birthday dinner would have stretched the Burrow's kitchen to breaking point even before the arrival of Charlie, Lupin, Evan, Tonks, Evelyn and Hagrid, several tables were placed end to end in the garden. Fred and George bewitched a number of purple lanterns all emblazoned with a large number 17, to hang in midair over the guests. Thanks to Mrs. Weasley's ministrations, George's wound was neat and clean, but Johnny wasn't yet used to the dark hole in the side of his head, despite the twins' many jokes about it.