Harry watched Ron and Hermione dance together with a feeling of guilty remorse.  He knew they could do better than him, yet they didn’t seem to know that.  Even appealing to Hermione’s vaunted intelligence meant nothing when she laughed at him for making the suggestion she and Ron would be better off without him.

He was a marked man.  Though he’d come to terms with it, he still felt guilt when he lay between his two best friends in their cramped bed.  They knew he was a marked man yet they stayed by his side, especially now.

He was the last of them to become of age, his birthday just a few days previous to the wedding.

He smiled into his butterbeer at Hermione’s laugh.  He smiled even more widely when Fleur cut in on Ron and Hermione, making Hermione scowl viciously.

“Honestly,” she huffed, sitting next to Harry with less grace than normal.

“Fleur is not trying to take Ron away,” Harry said, attempting to soothe Hermione.  He backed off when she glared at him.

“Doesn’t he notice he’s practically drooling down her dress?”

“Hermione.”

“Honestly, he has no sense of decorum.”

“Hermione.”

“And she just eggs him on!”

Harry couldn’t take it any longer.  He grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her up and out of the chair.  Though she protested, he ignored it, instead dragging her up to the room he was sharing with Ron.  He’d stayed in Fred and George’s room last summer, but given the number of people attending the wedding, it wasn’t possible for everyone to have their own rooms.

“Harry!” she squealed as he thrust her into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Hermione, if you were any more jealous, your eyes would be as green as mine.”  And, with that barb thrown, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

He had to stifle a laugh when she growled at him.  After a few minutes, her temper was spent and she sank onto Harry’s bed.

“Is it that obvious?”

Harry pushed off from the door and walked to the bed to sit beside her.  A moment’s internal debate spared him from answering because she flung herself onto him, sobbing into his shoulder.

He would never understand Hermione when she was emotional.

The door opened and closed quickly, allowing Ron into the room.  He jerked his head toward Hermione and asked Harry, “What’s up with her?”

Her head shot up and she glared at Ron.  “You!  You keep drooling all over Fleur.”

Ron looked between Harry and Hermione helplessly.  “I do?”

Hermione launched herself off the bed to storm over to Ron.  Hands on hips, she spat, “Yes, you do!  It’s horribly obvious.”

Ron’s lips twitched.  Harry was just as amused.  Not so long ago, they had shared the secret that watching Hermione in a temper was arousing.  Ron let her rant for a few moments more before gathering her in his arms and crushing his lips to hers.

Closing his eyes, Harry lay back on the bed.  He was still uncomfortable watching them together though they’d gone out of their way to put him at ease.  Sure enough, the bed soon dipped on either side of him.

Hermione’s arm snaked around his waist as she rested her cheek on his arm.  Ron lay by his side, their arms and legs touching.  The three of them lay silently, listening to the sounds of the wedding reception below.  Harry supposed the shouts of horror were due to Ron’s twin brothers causing mischief as only they could.

“We’re leaving today, aren’t we?” Hermione finally whispered.

Harry couldn’t bring himself to speak, so nodded.  Though he couldn’t say it was definitely the cause, he reckoned the tension within them had led to Hermione’s fit of jealousy.  They were still trying to work out their relationship, so any bit of outside tension just exacerbated problems at this stage.

“I’m all packed,” Ron replied.

Hermione lifted her head.  “You are?”

“Sure,” he answered.  “What do I really have to bring along?  Just a few changes of clothes.”

Ron’s thought that everything he had was rubbish went unsaid, as did Hermione’s chastising of him for the thought.  Harry said nothing.

“I am, too,” Hermione finally whispered.

“Let’s not stay,” Harry said, opening his eyes.  “While everyone else is occupied, let’s go.”

Ron sat up.  “Well, then, before we’re noticed.”

They shared a hug before climbing off the bed.  Silently, they gathered their bags – charmed to be bottomless – and headed downstairs.

Lucky for them, the living room was empty.  Voices could be heard from the kitchen, but they weren’t stopping in there.  Hermione cast a charm on the Weasley family clock so Ron’s hand wouldn’t reveal their location.  Ron took one last look around before turning to Hermione and Harry.

The pops of their Disapparition were heard by no one.