"Ron," Ginny acknowledged frostily. "Hermione." She didn't glance at Harry at all. "I'll see you next week."

Head high, she marched back through the floo, calling for the Burrow.

Despite what Harry thought would happen when he tumbled into a relationship with his ex-wife's brother and his wife, his relationship with Ginny (and hers with Harry's best friends and new partners) was usually not so—fraught. He hadn't seen her so cold and angry since the time he lent Albus Severus the Potter invisibility cloak without asking first. Harry shared a bewildered look with Ron, then Hermione.

James asked the question on everyone's mind: "What did you do?" James waved his hands. "The whole week, she's been acting like she's got a wand stuck up her—"

"James!" Albus Severus shouted before Harry could. "That's our mum you're talking about." Albus Severus had said mum's same sharp glare, and Harry knew it was only a matter of time before he learned the Bat Bogey curse, too.

Harry patted Albus on the shoulder as if to say, enough. To James, he said, "Whatever our differences, you won't speak about Ginny that way in this house."

"She doesn't have the same policy," James said hotly and stormed away.

Ron gave Harry a look that said, I have this one, and followed James up the stairs to—presumably—James's room in the Potter-Weasley-Granger household.

Harry cleared his throat on the awkward silence that descended and asked rather awkwardly, "How have your summer holidays been so far?"

More naturally, Hermione smiled and asked, "Have you started your summer reading yet?"

"Aunt Hermione," Lily protested with desperation. The first half of her first year of Hogwarts had only just passed, and she wasn't yet accustomed to Hermione's gentle (and not so gentle) scholarly reminders.

Albus Severus rolled his eyes, but belayed this scorn with a smile. "I don't think we have so little time we need to panic yet."

Hermione smiled back. "Maybe this year you can forego the panic stage."

"We'll take it under advisement," Albus said, catching at Lily's hand. "Come on, didn't you want to show Hugo the Wizard's card you caught yesterday?" Together, they scrambled up the stairs.

When their footsteps had faded, Harry turned to Hermione. "Is there something I've done lately?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. I have the feeling this week will be—interesting, to say the least."

Harry considered. "I'll check the gossip mags just in case."

---

There was nothing in any of the magazines Harry checked, nor the Prophet, and when Harry finally managed to pull aside Albus Severus, usually a font of family knowledge, he was, he insisted, entirely ignorant of the matter. "You know how she is sometimes," Albus said. "I'm sure whatever it is, it'll pass."

This was strangely incurious for Albus, but Hermione was always telling Harry to let some things go—they'll rebel less if they think they have more freedom and privacy, she'd say. Besides, Albus was a Slytherin with all Gryffindor relatives. Harry didn't want to see what he'd do to distract Harry if he decided his dad wouldn't let him keep his secrets. Harry had enough memories of his own childhood to warn him against it.

"Kids," Ron said fondly when asked his opinion. "Can't live with them, can't Imperius them to do their chores."

"Ron!" Hermione was half-laughing.

"Like you wouldn't be tempted to make them start their Transfigurations," Harry said, pulling the kettle from the burner and pouring it into the tea pot Hermione floated his way with a flick of her wand. He poured them each a cup and settled into one of the wooden chairs at their expanded table.

"But really," Hermione said, "you have no clue, Ron?"

Ron shook his head. "James didn't know, and he was so angry I doubt he'd have managed to keep it to himself when I asked him. And Ginny stopped telling me things when I started shagging her ex-husband." Enough time had passed for this to be said as something of a joke, rather than words spoken bitterly. Harry stared into his tea, because it had been years, but he still felt wretched about Ron's now rather strained family relations. "Hey." Ron leaned across the table to brush a kiss against Harry's mouth. "We'll figure it out."

Hermione reached out to take Harry's hand, her smile confidently. "We always do."

"And if the Ministry's two best Aurors and the best new candidate for Minister of Magic can't handle it—" Harry started, smiling back.

"We're all doomed," Ron finished with a grin.

---

Harry was beginning to suspect they really were doomed. Lily and Hugo were fighting, and though they'd all agreed when Harry moved in that they'd help with each other's children and would be there equally for each, that they wouldn't play favorites—it was stressful. Usually Hugo and Lily got on famously, but when pressed, all Hugo would say was, "I thought we were friends!" before he burst into tears. Harry patted Hugo's shoulder awkwardly and thought this seemed like a job for Ron, who had all his dad's jovial attitude and his mum's ability to comfort. Ron, however, was with Lily at the moment, because she had been avoiding Harry as much as possible since the Great Hogsmeade Adventure of First Year Slytherin and he'd revoked her invisibility cloak access, no matter how much she'd insisted they hadn't actually needed to use it to sneak out.

"I know she cares about you," Harry said, patting Hugo's shoulder once more. "You're her favourite cousin."

"She used to be my best friend!"

"Think of it this way," Harry said desperately. "At least you're not grounded for the entire winter break."

Hugo stopped sniffling quite so much and said, "Lily's grounded?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly. "She is very much grounded." Until she was fifty, Harry had said at first, but Hermione had argued leniency and Ron had pointed out they'd done worse their first year. At least Lily hadn't been smuggling dragons or facing down Voldemort.

Hugo scowled. "But if she were still my best friend, we'd have been grounded together."

Having not attempted a cross-House friendship during his own first year at Hogwarts, Harry was at sea for advising Hugo on this. How to make a cross-House archenemy, sure, but Harry rather hoped Hugo and Lily might avoid it going that far.

---

After everyone was finally in bed, Harry and Hermione combined efforts to cuddle Ron, who was fairly frazzled due to Mrs. Weasley having Flooed to demand time for "family togetherness" the next day. The one nice thing about Harry, Ron, and Hermione all working at the Ministry was having the weekends off. The downside to this was that they were often all busy at the same time, and this weekend was probably their only opportunity to spend with just the three of them and their kids.

"It'll be good to see George," Hermione said soothingly, rubbing Ron's shoulder.

"He'll give them all more of those wretched test products," Ron said. "Ones that explode, or react unpredictably, and the next thing you know we'll be in St. Mungo's trying to get Rose's eyes the right colour and James's teeth back."

"Do you wonder if our parents ever had these conversations?" Hermione said philosophically.

"Do you wonder what it would be like if any of our kids had actually turned out like Fred and George?" Harry asked, threading his fingers through Ron's hair.

Ron shuddered. "I thought you were supposed to be comforting me."

Harry grinned. "I am! I'm reminding you it could always be worse." He matched mischevious smiles with Hermione. "Though I suppose—"

Ever in sync, Hermione kissed the shoulder she'd been rubbing, and Harry pressed his lips gently to Ron's forehead. "We could certainly distract you for the evening," Hermione agreed.

For once, the night passed quietly. Rose didn't come running in shrieking about the latest thing James had done. Albus Severus didn't knock quietly to inform them there had been any sort of incident. If Hugo and Lily's feud turned into an all out war, they didn't do anything to call attention to it. There were some advantages, Harry reflected as he spelled the light out and pulled Hermione in for another deep kiss, to having all their children old enough to attend Hogwarts and independent enough to fend for themselves for one very pleasant evening.

---

When Mrs. Weasley had said "the entire family," she had truly meant the entire family. The Burrow was chaos. Ron's worries about George's test products were not at all unfounded, and Percy and Bill's children had already started said testing, George's children looking on in satisfaction and his wife staring in something like horror. "George Weasley!"

"This was such a great idea," Ron said, eyes wide, as his sister stalked up to them.

"Ron, Mum wants your help in the kitchen. Hermione, for the love of Merlin help rein George in, because no one else is having any luck." Ginny turned her unnervingly piercing gaze at Harry. "You," she poked him in the chest, "come with me."

"Better you than me," Ron mouthed silently over Ginny's shoulder. Hermione smiled encouragingly and abandoned him.

"Traitors," Harry mouthed back at them. Ginny did not look amused.

"We need to talk."

There had never been a time in Harry's life he'd looked forward to hearing that phrase from Ginny. He wasn't sure if it was heartening or not that Ginny let slip a small smile at what must have been a very complicated expression on Harry's face.

"I'm not going to murder you," Ginny said. "Though I think I might be able to get away with it in all this confusion."

"That's not very reassuring," Harry said slowly.

"Maybe you don't deserve reassurance right now."

"I see."

"You really don't. This entire family," Ginny said fiercely, "is terrible at communication."

Harry started to speak, but Ginny put up a hand to stop him.

"Take, for instance, the past week. I was angry at you, but wanted to wait until I had a chance to calm down to discuss it. Then Ron owled Mum, who owled Bill, who owled me, all to try to figure out why I was upset at Ron, when any anger I feel toward him is incidental, because it isn't Ron's fault you don't talk to me."

"I'm confused," said Harry.

"Or the current situation," Ginny said. "Albus is worried he inadvertantly betrayed Lily by letting slip the whole grounding thing, and James thinks I'm going to sue for sole custody or something because he heard me let slip something—" Ginny paused, "—uncomplimentary about your parenting style."

"You're filing for sole custody?" Harry choked out.

"No!" Ginny waved her hands. "This! This! Terrible at communication!" She heaved out an explosive sigh, then put her hands in her face. After a moment, she straightened. "I want to keep sharing our kids. That is the point. But this isn't working."

"Then tell me what's wrong," Harry said desperately. "Is it—is it the relationship thing, with Ron and Hermione? I thought it—I thought it didn't matter anymore, but—I can't change that."

"This isn't about my brother and Hermione," Ginny said. "At least, this is mostly not about them. This is about us and the fact that, though there may not be an 'us' anymore, we are still parenting the same kids and should have input about each other's decisions. Or at least be told about them!" Ginny glared. "This is about you consulting everyone but me about my own daughter."

Harry felt poleaxed. It was the invisibility cloak all over again. "This is about the Great Slytherin Hogsmeade Misadventure?"

"Yes," Ginny said. "I like to think I'm pretty laid-back about everything these days, but it's still not so much that I'd like to be informed one of my kids is grounded from one of my other children."

"Oh," Harry said.

"Oh," Ginny repeated mockingly, though there was less ire in it now.

Harry rubbed the back of his head. "I'm sorry. I'm still—I'm working on it, too."

"Good," Ginny said. Then, "And Albus should be grounded, too. He managed to keep his name out of it, but he's the one who showed them how to avoid the prefects' patrols and make it out of the castle in the first place. Lily admitted that before Albus came in and they both clammed up over the whole thing."

He and Ginny worked out an acceptable period of punishment—like Hermione, Ginny was not in favor of "when he's fifty"—just in time to help when the squid balloons exploded ink all over the gardens. The day was much more harrowing than usual, but by the end of it, Ginny was smiling at him again, and even joined in Ron's light-hearted teasing over Harry's bright red hair after taking a sweet from Albus without first thoroughly examining it. "You're almost like one of us," she said.

"Almost?" Ron said, nudging Harry's ankle lightly with his own.

"I don't know," Hermione said, swooping by to drop a peck on Harry's hair. "Not enough freckles."

---

A week passed quickly.

Hugo and Lily made up, fought, and made up again. Albus Severus had somehow managed to smuggle a horde of tester sweets from the piles left at the Burrow, and he and Rose kept attempting to slip them to James, and though he'd stopped accepting after the second time his hair turned green, they still found ways to sneak the sweets into his food. Hermione convinced Lily, at least, to finish her Transfigurations work early, though Harry knew it would never last. By summer holidays, she would likely procrastinate as much as her older brothers.

Ginny smiled equally at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, then even more at her children. "I know you're grounded," she said, "but I thought we could go to Florean Fortescue's. If," Ginny turned to look at Harry, "your father says it's all right."

Ginny, Harry thought fondly despite himself, was destined to be the cool parent. He nodded. "I think Albus Severus needed some new quills, too, while you're in Diagon Alley."

"What happened to his old ones?"

Harry explained that they had all suffered the consequences of James's revenge and were not a rather Gryffindor red. This required an explanation of Albus's behavior while house-bound and restless, with an overabundance of amunition from George.

Ginny laughed. "Do you all want to be grounded?"

They checked to be sure Ginny and the Potter children had everything, and Ginny checked to be certain that Albus Severus was not bringing any more of the sweets. Albus even turned out his pockets, and they finally bundled off and through the Floo. Right before he left, Albus turned to wink at Rose.

"Oh, dear," Hermione said, turning to look at Rose, who looked entirely too innocent.

"I promise they won't be used in this house," Rose said.

Ron looked from Harry to Hermione, then said. "This is revenge for all our adventures at Hogwarts, isn't it?"

"I don't know," Harry said, putting an arm around each of them. "At least no one's been in the hospital wing the past several years."

"There is that," Hermione agreed.

---

(This lasted until the Potters and Granger-Weasleys returned to Hogwarts, but a nice side-effect was that Lily and Hugo finally made up for good, and George promised that the dye would come out. Eventually.)