Ginny stepped in front of her and lifted a brow. "You sure know what you're doing, don't you?"

Hermione took a moment to catch her breath. "I wasn't expecting that."

"It's going to help you tomorrow," said Ginny simply. "Make sure to mention it if it doesn't make the papers." She took Hermione's arm and tugged her through the tall grass.

The Burrow was just as she remembered it — a massive, leaning jumble of a house. The sight of it filled her chest with warmth and longing and a dozen other emotions she couldn't name. It wasn't until Ginny wrenched open the front door that Hermione remembered she wouldn't find Molly waiting in the kitchen, surrounded by floating pots and pans. Or Arthur in the garage, tinkering with an eggbeater.

Her stomach twisted. Taking a deep breath, she shoved the memories back.

A silver-blonde head poked out of the kitchen, short-cropped and sleek. "'Ermione?"

Fleur Delacour stepped around the corner, holding a spatula. Hermione stared at her, remembering the smoke and panic of Edinburgh, the way she'd sliced a Death Eater's neck so easily. She blinked the images away.

"Hello," Hermione said, just as Fleur wrapped her in a hug.

Pulling back, Fleur smiled and gripped her shoulders. "It's good to 'ave you home." She glanced at Ginny, then back at Hermione. "Breakfast?"

They followed Fleur into the kitchen.

Hermione took a seat at the kitchen table, and Ginny sat beside her. They watched Fleur finish cooking, comfortable in the silence.

Ginny got up to set the table, and Hermione watched her help Fleur with an easy affinity she'd never seen between them before. The war had shifted all of them, she supposed. Some closer, and some farther.

Halfway through their large breakfast, the Floo in the kitchen burst to life. Hermione twisted in her chair to see Bill stepping through the fireplace, followed by George.

Hermione's heart skipped. She hadn't been this close to George since the Palace Theatre.

They both stopped dead at the sight of her.

"Hermione." Bill nodded his head in greeting. "Good to see you again."

George moved first, grabbing a handful of sausage before dropping into a chair.

Hermione nodded stiffly. "Good to see you, too. Hello, George."

He shoved a sausage into his mouth and tipped his head, pouring a glass of orange juice.

Hermione had expected it, but it still felt like she'd been struck. She looked to Ginny for guidance, but found her staring at Bill, giving him a look her mother would have been proud of.

Bill ran a hand through his hair. "Hermione, I'd like to apologize for our conversation at Mungo's. It's… Well, you caught me in the middle of a mess in Athens, and I… I deferred to the Healers. But once we'd finished the fighting, and they still hadn't found any decent evidence that you'd—" He broke off, staring at his shoes. "Anyway, Ginny convinced me to speak to Pierre. I'm sorry you were kept out of the loop. And I'm sorry I didn't intervene sooner."