Harry used the last of his energy to open the door and lean against the wall; he was capable of no more. Today had been horrible. Worse than horrible. Today had been conditioning training.

Under the new Shacklebolt regime Aurors had to spend one day a week working on their fitness. They even had a special trainer for it. Barry Wellbeloved. No he wasn't. His introductory talk to his classes always followed the same pattern. 'I'm Barry Wellbeloved, known as "Barry the Bastard" to my friends.' He paused and gave them an evil grin. 'That's why nobody's ever called me it.'

'Kreacher!' There was a pop as the House Elf appeared before him. 'Can you run me...'

'I've run your bath, Master.'

'What?'

'Master spent the day with Master Wellbeloved. Kreacher thought a bath might be appreciated.'

'Will you please stop calling me "Master"? You're a Free Elf now and it gets Hermione upset.'

Kreacher tutted and looked away. 'Kreacher will have words with Mistress Granger, oh yes. Free Elf, indeed.'

'Anyway, how do you know what I did today?'

'One hears things' said Kreacher, checking his nails.

'Tell me!'

Kreacher gave the Elf equivalent of a smirk. 'Kreacher is a Free Elf, as Master keeps pointing out. Therefore, Kreacher is not compelled to obey orders and is Master's equal, according to Mistress Granger.'

'If you don't tell me I won't put your head on the wall, I'll put it through the wall – in a free and equal kind of way, obviously.'

Kreacher smiled. 'Master will have his little jokes. Kreacher is distantly related to Perky, an Elf working at the Ministry.'

'You're spying on me?'

'Kreacher prefers to think of it as making himself available of the latest intelligence.' He looked up at Harry and his eyes suddenly grew sad, and just a little bright. 'Master Harry has nobody to look after him, apart from Kreacher. He is a poor orphan. Of course, if Master were to marry...'

'Don't start that again. Ginny and I are fine just as we are. One day, when I feel I'm ready, I'll...why am I explaining myself to you? I'm going to have my bath. Thank you, by the way.'

'It is my pleasure, Master. Hurry up before it gets warm. Dinner will be at seven.'

Harry smiled, assuming he'd either misheard or that Kreacher was getting mixed up. Despite everything he was fond of Kreacher and their relationship had certainly improved since the early days. As Hermione had said, the Elf responded to kindness and it had even got to the stage where they would sometimes sit together of an evening chewing the fat over a butterbeer. Kreacher's only blind spot was Harry's relationship with Ginny. He was rather "old school" and did not approve of her entering the house unchaperoned, as he saw it. On those occasions he could be a bit of a nuisance, lurking around on the pretext of doing some job or other.

Harry dragged himself along the corridor, hurting in places he hadn't even realised he had places. Thank Merlin he had a rest day tomorrow. Bath, dinner and an early night. That sounded so good.

The bath looked very inviting, with plenty of bubbles; just as he liked it. He took his clothes off with as little movement as possible and gratefully jumped in. 'AAAAARRRRGGGHH! KREACHER!'

The Elf apparated in to the bathroom to find his Master huddled in a corner, desperately trying to wrap himself in as many big, fluffy towels around as he could. 'Master bellowed?' he asked, placidly.

'It's freezing cold!'

'Obviously.'

'What?'

'Apparently, Master, ice baths help the muscles, tendons, bones, nerves and all the different tissues used in exercise recover from their workout. Mistress Ginny told Kreacher she takes one after Quidditch. The cold constricts...'

'When were you talking to Ginny?'

'Mistress popped round recently and we had a lovely chat whilst she was measuring windows and considering decorating schemes. Such a wonderful young lady; intelligent, attractive, charming. She would make a marvellous...'

'Just pass me my wand so I can warm this water up.'

Kreacher gave an unconvincing bow. 'As you wish. Master obviously knows better than a professional athlete.'

-o0o-

The sofa wrapped Harry in its warm embrace and he let out a deep sigh. He was relaxed after his – eventually - hot bath, and full of Kreacher's Steak and Kidney Pudding and a glass of wine. Maybe a bit of light reading and listening to the radio before bed.

There was a light tap on the door and Kreacher came in. 'Master Ronald Weasley is here. Shall Kreacher say you are occupied?'

Harry was tempted, but an evening just chatting to a old friend wouldn't do any harm. 'No, of course not. I could fancy losing at chess.'

Ron slouched in to the room and flopped in to a chair.

'Good to see you,' said Harry, levering himself in to an upright position. 'What brings you here? Drink?'

Ron shook his head. 'Do I need a reason to come round? Are you busy? I'll go if …' he picked up the poker and started prodding the fire.

'Of course you don't. I just...so, how was your day?' He laughed. 'We had conditioning training.'

'Yeah.' Ron stared at the fire, as if expecting a vision to appear.

'What's the matter?'

'Nothing. What makes you think anything's the matter?'

Harry shrugged. 'Twelve year's experience. Have you had a row with Hermione?'

'No. I don't think ...me and her...I don't think we'll be having any more arguments.'

Harry let out a chuckle. 'You two always argue. Your whole relationship's based on...Hang on, you haven't split up?'

'Not yet. I've been thinking and...' Ron put his head in his hands and let out a groan. 'I should let her go, shouldn't I?'

'What's brought this on?'

'We've been going out for a few years now and she's starting dropping hints that we should think about, maybe, getting engaged or something.'

Harry shook his head to clear it. 'You don't want to marry her? I thought...'

'Of course I want to marry her! It's all I've ever wanted.' He got up and started pacing the room. 'That's the problem, isn't it? It's what I want. To hell with her and making her happy. As long as Ron gets what he wants then everything's fine. If I really loved her, if I really, really loved her, I'd let her go so she can have a chance of happiness, of making something of her life.'

So much for a pleasant chat, Harry thought to himself. Sometimes, he wondered if his life was a time loop; he'd certainly been here before. 'Sit down, Ron.' Ron sat. 'If there was a Boggart looking at you now, do you know what it'd turn in to?'

'My Boggart's a spider.' Ron shivered involuntarily.

'No. Your Boggart's you. This is just like being back in the Forest of Dean. Has it not occurred to you that she's dropping hints because she wants to marry you?'

'Why? Why would she want to marry me? She went back to school and got seven NEWTS. I went and worked in a joke shop.'

Harry dragged himself from the sofa and stood in front of Ron, not sure if he wanted to hug him or punch him. 'You helped your brother through the worst period of his life, and put what you wanted on hold for two years until he'd got himself sorted out. Without you the business would have folded and Merlin knows what would have become of him. He'd probably be on the closed ward, at best.'

'I'm not good enough for her.'

'How do you work that one out?'

'She's more intelligent than I am.'

'I can't argue with that.' Harry knew he daren't laugh at this point, but it was difficult to keep a straight face at Ron's expression. 'She's more intelligent than me; it's still not much of a challenge for her, is it? Hermione's smarter than everybody so if you follow your "argument" through to it's logical conclusion she'll never get married. But, according to you, she's not intelligent enough to know her own mind.'

'I'm not good enough for her. Her parents are like Healers; good jobs, nice house, loads of money. What can I give her?'

'You.' Harry put his hands up. 'I know that puts us back to square one, but that's what she wants.'

Harry decided he needed a drink, and Ron was going to get one whether he wanted it or not, so walked to the cabinet and poured a couple of Old Ogden's. Ron looked at his glass and then shrugged and took it.

'Remember when we first knew her, before we got involved with the troll?' Harry asked as he sat down, thinking longingly of his bed waiting upstairs. 'Did she remind you a bit of McGonagall?'

Ron made a so-so movement. 'McGonagall turned out to be OK, though. Made something of her life, didn't she? She's Headmistress of Hogwarts. That's an important position. Hermione could do that, if it wasn't for me holding her back.'

Harry cursed, silently; that wasn't meant to happen. 'I agree, McGonagall's great, except she needs to read the instruction manual every time she wants to smile. When was the last time you discussed an article in Arithmancy Monthly with Hermione?'

Ron looked totally confused. 'Don't be daft!'

'Exactly! With you she's learnt how how to laugh, how to relax. You taught her how to dance – embarrassingly badly, I'll admit, but even so...You make her a whole person. You make her human.'

'Anyone could do that. Justin Finch-Fletchley, he can probably dance better than me and he's got all that money. Or Ernie McMillan; he'll do well in the Ministry.'

'Except she doesn't want anyone, she wants you. You're like her harbour, her safe place. Yeah, you drive her mad but...' Harry took a deep breath. 'I've never told you this...do you remember when you got splinched, when we nearly got caught after the Ministry?'

Ron nodded. 'It hurt like hell. I lost a lot of blood. At one point I thought I wasn't going to make it. Good job she's handy with the dittany.'

'Too right. When she got you sorted out I helped you in to bed and she sat with you. I think you might have passed out a bit so you couldn't see the look she gave you.'

'Pissed off with me, was she?'

'No. Ron, it was so full of love I had to get out, I couldn't stay and be part of something so...I've never seen anyone so wrapped up in someone else. I knew then, I'd known for a while to be honest, that you two were made for each other. She loves you more than she'll probably ever be able to tell you.'

'You think so?'

'Why shouldn't she? I don't want to sound wet or anything, but you're a pretty special bloke. It's only you who can't see it.' He started ticking things off on his fingers. 'Getting across the chess board, clearing the passage when Lockhart tried to kill us...'

'You were there as well.'

'I know I was. You, me and Hermione – a team. None of us could have done it alone, and I'll tell you something; I wouldn't have wanted anyone else. Not Viktor Krum, or Justin Finch-Fletchley with his money or Ernie McMillan or anyone. We were the best, the three of us – equals.'

'Equals?'

This time Harry decided Ron needed an arm around the shoulder. 'Equals. We always were.'

Ron drained his glass and nodded. 'I suppose, when you put it like that...' He stood up. 'Thanks. Thanks for that. I'd best be going; you've had a hard day.'

'I want an invitation to the wedding.'

Ron made an attempt at a smile and clapped him on the shoulder. 'We'll see. Maybe.'

Harry walked him to the door. 'She doesn't want you for all the things you're not, Ron. She wants you for all the things you are. Just remember that, eh?'

Harry went back to the living room threw himself onto the sofa. Scratch the light reading, just a bit of radio. He flicked his wand and lay back. Celestina Warbeck's warblings relaxed him and took him back to a time when life was simple. All he'd had to worry about then was dark wizards trying to kill him on a regular basis. Compared to his friends emotional crises it was like being on holiday. He felt his eyes drifting shut and didn't even try to fight it.

-o0o-

'Ahem, Master Harry? Kreacher is sorry to disturb but Mistress Granger is in the hallway. She appears a little distressed.'

Harry, yet again, dragged himself upright and pulled his hands down his face. Was there some kind of conspiracy going on? 'What do you mean "Distressed"?'

Kreacher thought about that for a moment. 'Distressed as in...crying uncontrollably.'

Harry went to the hallway and, sure enough, Hermione was sobbing in to her handkerchief. 'Oh, Harry!' was all she managed before throwing herself into his arms.

Harry got her sat down on the sofa and poured her a drink. 'This is about Ron, isn't it?' he said, holding out a glass. He made a mental note to ask Kreacher to get another bottle the next time he went shopping.

'He doesn't love me any more; I think he's gone off me,' she managed to get out between sips and sobs.

'He hasn't and he does love you. I know he does.'

Hermione's face crumpled. 'No! He's gone all quiet and distant and every time I try to talk to him about us he turns away from me. It's my fault. I've pushed him too fast and...'

'Been dropping hints you want to marry him.'

Hermione stopped sobbing and looked at him in surprise 'How do you know?'

'Because he was sat in this very room not half an hour ago. He's going through a Ron stage.'

'Oh. What about this time?'

'The usual; he isn't good enough for you, he'll never make anything of...'

'But that isn't why I …'

Harry held his hands up in surrender. 'I know that and you know that. Unfortunately it's never got through that thick skull of his.'

'What should I do? Should I give him some space or even...' Her face crumpled again and the hanky came out and she buried her head in Harry's shoulder. 'I don't want to lose him but I don't want him to feel trapped.' She drained her glass and shuddered. 'I hate firewhiskey. Have you got any more?'

Harry poured a small measure; Hermione tended to go through a maudlin phase if she got drunk and she was bad enough as it was.

'You know what Ron's like. All tough on the outside but a mass of insecurity behind it. He thinks...here goes nothing, he thinks you'll be marrying beneath yourself.'

'What?'

'Because you're middle class and he isn't, and your parents have got money and he hasn't.' Harry couldn't stop himself giggling. 'He said you should be with somebody like Justin Finch-Fletchley or Ernie McMillan.'

Hermione put her hand over her eyes. 'He's such a child at times. He's never had a chance to shine on his own, that's the problem. Everything he's achieved had either been done by his brothers, or we were there too.'

She gave a rather sad little laugh. 'I wish I hadn't gone to the Ball with Viktor, now. He couldn't even be my first kiss. He doesn't know how special he makes me feel, though. Nobody's ever done that before.

Nobody's ever spent time with me like he does. I do love my parents, but they were always so busy working, twelve hours a day they were normally out and then they had paperwork to do when they came home and on weekends they had to run the house. That's why I liked going to The Burrow during the holidays, and I suppose it's why I read so much. I used to get so lonely.'

Harry put his arm around her and gave her a hug. It suddenly struck him how lucky he'd been in his lives, despite everything. He'd been lonely, too, and neglected and burdened with a prophecy. Yet at Hogwarts he'd found Ron and Hermione. They had problems of their own but they'd stayed true and put themselves in danger for him. They'd shared his burden and picked him up every time he was knocked down. He'd never really thanked them – just for being there. It made him feel quite humble, so maybe this was his chance to make up for it.

'Have you ever told him all this?'

'I've tried, but...'

'Maybe you should have another go.' He handed her the the bottle, there wasn't much left in it. 'This might help.'

Hermione stood up and took a few deep breaths. She wiped her fingers under her eyes and appeared horrified at the amount of mascara on them. 'I bet I look a real mess, don't I?'

Harry grimaced. 'I've seen you looking worse.'

She laughed through her tears. 'I suppose so.' She threw her arms around his neck. 'I'm sorry I mucked up your evening.'

'No problem. That's what friends are for. We've always stuck up for each other, haven't we?'

-o0o-

To hell with reading and the radio. He'd glance through the newspaper and then call it a night. He was just getting interested in an article on broomstick maintenance when he heard knocking at the front door. Oh, what now? Was there no peace for the wicked? He folded the paper and threw it into a corner as he sat waiting for Kreacher to announce his latest visitor.

Nothing happened, except the knocking continued. Maybe Kreacher had gone to bed, seeing as Harry was occupied There was another knock, louder this time.

'I'm coming! Me! Not the House Elf, obviously, who's probably talking to the portrait of a mad old woman who died years ago. No, I'll get it myself, even though I pay him.' He almost wrenched the door off its hinges as he dragged it open. 'What?...Oh.'

Ginny stood there, a huge grin on her face. She hurled herself at him and pinned him to the wall. It was several minutes before they came up for air, by which time she had his shirt unbuttoned.

'Hang on, Gin, I'd better get you under cover. I don't know where Kreacher is, but you know what he'll be like if he sees us.'

Ginny run her hands over his chest. 'I don't think he'll be a problem.'

'Wh...why?' Harry's voice had gone up an octave.

'Did he tell you I came round the other day?' she asked, innocently.

'Yeah. What was all that about? He said you were discussing decorating.'

She detached her lips from his earlobe. 'Mmm...We decided the Drawing Room should have an Oriental theme. Then I remembered you've got tomorrow off and it just so happens I haven't got training, either. So,' she gave him a peck on the lips, 'I flooed him just now and told him I'd sourced a lot of the things I want in there.' She gave an affected sigh. 'But, the trouble is lots of other people are interested in them, so I need to get in quick and would he mind terribly going to get them for me? Straight away? This very minute?'

'And he went, just like that? Harry marvelled at Kreacher's dedication to duty.

Ginny fluttered her eyelashes at Harry. 'He adores me.' She started unbuckling his belt. 'Unfortunately everything I want is in India or China, so I reckon it'll take him at least two days to collect them all.'

Harry's hands had started to take a great interest in how Ginny's clothes were fastened. 'So...we've got the house all to ourselves?'

'Yes. Just me...and you...and maybe some long, luxurious baths.'

Harry swept her up in to his arms and headed for the stairs. 'Hopefully not ice baths?'

Ginny shrugged as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 'That depends on how vigorous the work-out is.'

'Damn. We'll probably get through a couple of glaciers.'

AN. Once again I have to thank Euclidian for making this a readable story.