“ is it me she’ll drag around, or you? I mean if I claim I had no idea I was supposed to be there… ”  taking his hair down from its bun, harry shot the ginger before him a mischievous smirk.  “ your mum has always gone easy on me, after all. ”  a small boon for his abusive childhood, he supposed.  “ molly I’m so sorry, I would have turned up but you know how ron is, probably meant to tell me on thursday but then he got to rifling around for snacks… ”

it was always moments like these ones that managed, ever so slightly, to set harry’s skin on edge. they felt too normal, too calm. meals with family, teasing his friends, being able to function as if the world wasn’t going to come to a halt again and how he managed to handle it all wouldn’t determine the fate of hundreds, thousands of lives. years later and harry still didn’t always know how to do it. he soldiered through none the less.

“ does she want me to bring teddy, d’you know? ”

"You wouldn’t dare!” Ron shot up, sending a few more papers fluttering about in the process. The very idea of receiving his mother’s wraith was enough to send chills up his spine. It didn’t matter that Ron was a full grown adult, his mother still terrified him from time to time. He knew all too well that Harry would absolutely feign innocence when it came to skipping out on a family dinner.

He didn’t actually relax until Harry questioned on whether or not he should bring Teddy, because that meant he was planning on going... hopefully. “Of course she wants ya to. I think she has a new sweater for him.” he mused, trying to remember all of the things she had written in his letter.

the huff of laughter that escapes him is somehow, even after all these years, utterly incredulous. ron’s always been dramatic, but there’s something about being an adult  ( and a war hero )  that’s pushed him over the edge, harry thinks. they spent their youth surviving more than living, constantly fending off riddle and his plans. ron’s seen more death than anyone should, everyone who was there has, and if it makes him a little more prone to ridiculousness now? well, who’s harry to judge?  “ you’re absurd, you know that? ”  rolling his eyes, he pokes his friend’s finger with his quill before he puts it away in a drawer and leans back in his chair.

“ don’t you have a wife to harass? why am I your first choice, you goon? ”

Ron continued to lay on Harry’s desk, making himself rather comfortable. This was just where he lived now for the foreseeable future. He would be lying if he said that the small paper cut wasn’t just an excuse to come and bug his best mate and ensure that he wasn’t working too hard. He also wanted nothing to do with his actual boring paperwork that was still waiting for him in his office.

Ron huffed, practically stomping his way across Harry’s office, determined to make quite the scene. As soon as he was close enough he swiped his arms across the desk, determined to knock as much off of it as possible to make room. Plopping down onto it, sprawling himself before Harry with quite the flourish. Ron presented his injured hand to his best friend, though to call it injured would be quite the overstatement. There on his index finger was the smallest of paper cuts.