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After we have travelled thus far by callarose
Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Harry, Arthur/Molly, George.
Summary: The inhabitants of the burrow march on, but to where exactly? A glimpse into the Weasley household after the war.Warnings: References to minor violence, some implicit sexual situations, mild profanity.
"Each event has its own spiral of consequences, she learnt from books and lessons. Each war has its aftermath, Hermione Granger learnt. Four weeks later, nothing had changed; it seemed that nothing would.  Ron still wouldn’t press his lips on her cheek when she woke him up in  the morning, and her demands that he must get up, up, up were ignored with the assistance of a particularly large pillow. After much persuasion on her part, a defiant response and oh shut up will you,  he scrambled lifelessly down the stairs. George and Ginny were already  on their second glasses of milk. Sipping. Hermione wished that Percy,  Charlie and Bill were still at home - it would take the pressure off the  remaining members of the family. Ron choked down Molly’s eggs and  sausages without pausing, his fingers grazing Hermione’s by accident.  There would be neither complaints about the burnt crust nor the tangy  taste of the milk from the Weasley clan these days. The silence was  palpable that Hermione could hear the light, light pattering of rain  against the roof, the taped windows. The wards must have magnified the  sounds. They had been preparing for a storm after all.”

After we have travelled thus far by callarose

Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Harry, Arthur/Molly, George.

Summary: The inhabitants of the burrow march on, but to where exactly? A glimpse into the Weasley household after the war.

Warnings: References to minor violence, some implicit sexual situations, mild profanity.

"Each event has its own spiral of consequences, she learnt from books and lessons. Each war has its aftermath, Hermione Granger learnt. Four weeks later, nothing had changed; it seemed that nothing would. Ron still wouldn’t press his lips on her cheek when she woke him up in the morning, and her demands that he must get up, up, up were ignored with the assistance of a particularly large pillow. After much persuasion on her part, a defiant response and oh shut up will you, he scrambled lifelessly down the stairs. George and Ginny were already on their second glasses of milk. Sipping. Hermione wished that Percy, Charlie and Bill were still at home - it would take the pressure off the remaining members of the family. Ron choked down Molly’s eggs and sausages without pausing, his fingers grazing Hermione’s by accident. There would be neither complaints about the burnt crust nor the tangy taste of the milk from the Weasley clan these days. The silence was palpable that Hermione could hear the light, light pattering of rain against the roof, the taped windows. The wards must have magnified the sounds. They had been preparing for a storm after all.”

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