"And you thought my room was messy?"

Hermione stood on the threshold of Ron's bedroom, gaping in shock. "When was the last time you cleaned, right before you left for Hogwarts in first year?"

"Fifth," Ron shot back. "Last time I did it consciously, anyway. Oh no, that was about a year ago, right before Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember I was all pissed off because the guests wouldn't see my room anyway?

Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You are not helping your case, Ronald."

He shrugged. "In case you don't remember, I didn't get back home until a month ago after being on the run for almost a year. How was I supposed to clean when I wasn't around?"

She rolled her eyes. "Right, anyway, we're here now, so let's get to it."

Ron goggled at her. "Can't we just get rid of it and start new?"

"And waste how many Galleons on a new wardrobe and everything else when it all works perfectly fine?" Hermione snapped. Since Ron had gotten a job as an Auror at the Ministry, he had found himself with quite a bit more money than he'd been used to in the past, and it was all Hermione could do to convince him to save it. She waved her wand at the room in general. "Scourgify!"

At once, books were straightened and returned to shelves, the bed was made, two inches of dust vanished from the carpet, and clothes folded themselves in the dresser.

Ron flopped down on the bed with a huff, as if he'd done all of it himself. "There, all better."

"No," said Hermione, "now it's organized so we can sort through it and pack."

Ron muttered something under his breath, which became a loud and very distinct swearword as a last straggler of a book zoomed out from under the bed, smacking him in the face on its way to the bookshelf.

The flash of gold from the book's cover caught Hermione's eye – it was common knowledge that most of Ron's possessions were secondhand and rather shabby, so something this extravagant was rather unusual.

"What's that one?"

Before Ron could protest (or rather, stow the book out of sight again), Hermione had snatched it from the shelf.

"Honestly, Ronald?" she said, a mix of mild interest and revulsion at the gaudy cover displayed on her face. "Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches? Honestly?"

"Fred and George gave it to me," he mumbled. "I've never read it."

"Yes," Hermione noted, flipping through the pages, "that explains why you've bookmarked the chapter on compliments."

Ron turned scarlet and looked at the floor.

Hermione set the book down but continued to gaze at it thoughtfully. Ron looked up in surprise; he'd been expecting her to fly into a rage about how he'd won her over by cheating with a self-help book.

"What do you want to do with it?"

He blinked. "Come again?"

"Well," Hermione said with a smirk, "you've achieved what you were after, so it obviously fulfilled its purpose. Shall we give it to the secondhand shop in Diagon Alley or did you want to keep it for sentimental reasons?"

Ron shrugged. "I recon I could pass it on, assuming we have a son."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And not sneak it over to Harry and Ginny's? Ginny said she hopes their first child is a boy."

"Harry's already got a copy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course he does."

Ron dragged himself from the bed and yanked some cardboard boxes in from the hall.

"I don't see why we have to sort it now," he said childishly. Hermione took a box and immediately set upon the bookcase.

"It's just practical," she said absently, piling old schoolbooks into the box. Ron, recognizing Lockhart's collection, promptly unpacked them.

"These are the biggest waste of paper I've ever seen," he declared.

"Why haven't you burned them like you said you would, then?"

"Mum wouldn't let me."

And so it went, Hermione boxing things up while Ron was content to let her plow through it and assist where needed.

"I do have every intention of a semi-new wardrobe, though," Ron informed her as Hermione started on the dresser. "I'm not taking anything maroon, I've always hated that color."

"Well there goes half of it," Hermione said good-naturedly, as she began a separate pile of 'too-small-or-just-don't-want-it' in the corner.

All the clothes fit nicely into Ron's old school trunk, after he'd thoroughly rid it of broken quills, crumpled parchment and sweet wrappers. After awhile, they sat down for a moment of rest. The room had been mostly cleared up – Ron had made his bed and his Chudley Cannons posters had been taken down and rolled up – he insisted on taking them along. The Lockhart books joined a few other old schoolbooks on the otherwise-empty bookshelf, and the pile of old clothes towered beside it.

"Wow," said Ron, sitting down with a huff. "I never knew there was so much carpet in here."

Hermione laughed, looking around the room. "Ron, what are your mum and dad going to do now everyone's moved out?"

"Dad will just keep being Dad; I expect Mum'll do a massive re-cleaning and straighten everything up all over again."

"But being alone in such a big house?"

"The Burrow's never been empty for more than two days, at best," Ron pointed out. "Most of us come round for the big family dinner on Sundays, we come two nights besides, and you know Harry and Ginny are over all the time."

"Five or six constantly-empty bedrooms is quite a lot, that's all."

"Come off it," Ron said. "You think Mum's going to stand for no one staying the night, especially with all the grandkids she's bound to have?"

"That is true." Hermione smiled, imagining the house coming alive again with the shouts of children. Bill and Fleur already had little Victoire, and Percy's wife Audrey was pregnant – it wouldn't be long before they all had families.

"Speaking of families," she said slowly, "I was wondering: where did you mum find that enchanted clock downstairs?"

Ron looked perplexed. "Dunno, she had to've had it made special though. Why?"

"I was thinking, since she added mine and Harry's and Fleur's and Audrey's names – and I imagine she'll be adding Angelina soon enough – it's getting rather crowded with all the names, isn't it?"

"What are you getting at, Hermione?"

"Well… I thought it might make a nice parting gift, since everyone's out on their own now, if we had a new one made for her that was all the grandkids."

Ron kissed her. "Brilliant. She'll love it, absolutely love it. You're amazing."

Hermione beamed. She stood up and waved her wand at the boxes by the door, which vanished.

Ron sprang to his feet, aghast. "Where the bloody hell did you send them?"

"To the flat," she said matter-of-factly. Ron groaned and threw himself back on the pillows.

"All that work and you're not going to make me carry them?"

Hermione looked revolted. "Merlin, no. They must weigh a ton each, all the junk you have… packing and unpacking are fun."

"Says the obsessive-compulsive organizer," Ron snorted. She ignored the comment and tugged him to his feet.

"Come on, your mum wanted us to stay for one last lunch."

"I highly doubt it'll be the last."

Hermione shook her head wryly and pecked him on the lips.

"One last lunch before we're finally in our own place."