After the War

Chapter 38

Sunday, March 3rd

It was a blistering cold day: the type of day where the only solace could be found in front of the bright flames of a fireplace (or under a warming charm). A few lone blades of grass peeked their heads above the white sludge that called itself snow and faint scratches of early-migrating birds were etched into its surface. But these marks were erased by the thump of large shoes marching through the thick white-gray mass.

Ron rubbed his bare hands together in front of him and looked around at the crisp blue sky whose sun was giving off an air of deceptive warmth. "Why is it so damn cold out?" he asked no one in particular. "It's nearly spring for Merlin's sake!"

"Cheer up, birthday boy!" George said, ignoring his own teeth that were on the verge of chattering, his hands smothered in the crooks of his armpits.

Ron scowled in his general direction and in his quick moment of distraction, stepped into a freezing wet puddle that engulfed his shoes and doused his sock and pant leg in one efficient moment. He let out a stream of curses which really was quite brave of him considering how close they were to their mother's roof.

"Calm down," Harry said irritably and couldn't stop himself from adding, "Some wizard you are." He withdrew his own wand and hastily dried Ron's leg for him.

Ron shook it out, as if to test if the brief warm respite was real, then planted it back firmly in the snow. "At least it'll be warmer inside," he commented darkly, then continued his march to the door.

"You could've said thank you," Harry muttered under his breath. There was no real reason that the three wizards were so annoyed at each other... other than waking to the biting cold and getting practically no sleep the night before because of the howling winds that threatened to break their windows and shake the entire house down.

Hopping side to side to keep himself moving, Ron waited for the door to open and envelop them each in its warm embrace. After what felt like hours, but was really a few minutes, his father pulled open the door wearing a friendly smile.

"Happy Birthday, Ron!" he called cheerfully with his arms spread out. Ron smiled back, genuinely thrilled to see him and the open door. He stepped towards his father and hugged him quickly before moving further into the room and sighing in relief with the comforting warmth. Pins and needles erupted in his toes and fingertips, and he flexed them slowly to ease out the frozen joints.

Harry and George had begun peeling off their outer layer of coats and scarves and both made a beeline for the crackling fireplace that promised them more comfort. Ron quickly followed and stood with his back to the fire as Mr. Weasley finished locking the door so that it wouldn't blow open in the wind and approached the three.

"Nineteen, huh?" he asked with a grin.

Ron wasn't really sure if his comment demanded a reply, but he seemed to be expecting one so he complied. "Yup."

Mr. Weasley shook his head and whistled lowly as if he couldn't believe it. "Imagine that. Time seems to be going by so quickly nowadays." He developed a wistful, faraway look in his eyes.

Ron chuckled to entertain his thought and looked down at his shoes rather sheepishly.

"It feels like just yesterday that you two flew Harry home for the first time in my old car!"

George smirked as he remembered the long harangue he received from his mother after that particular well-meaning decision.

Harry grinned. "Arguably one of the best days of my life."

The Weasleys smiled warmly at him and no one said anything for a minute. The silence was filled with the slow tick of a clock on the far wall and the gentle crackling of fire behind them that began to burn the backs of their legs.