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    The upshot of the whole incident was that Ron and Hermione realised that living without each other caused hardship for not only them, but also for everyone else around them.

                Poor Wendal was left to come to terms with the fact that Ron’s heart has been, and always will be in Hermione’s care but consoled herself by going after the latest addition to the Improper Use of Magic office: a nice chap called Ben. He had enough wand skills to keep Wendal happy but it was somewhat disturbing how much he resembled Ron. In fact, it because a new Ministry joke (amongst the slightly more easily amused folk) to call them Bon and Ren.

                Harry and Ginny were very pleased with their latest news, though Harry was a little nervous about becoming a father - having had no real fatherly figure to gain any inspiration from; he figured taking any inspiration from Sirius was just asking for trouble when it came to raising a child. Ron was delighted about becoming an Uncle again, but bleached to a dangerous shade of white when Hermione let slip that she wanted to see what Ron would be like a Dad. George – who had been present at the incident – said it would a “bloody disaster.”

                The only problem that remained was that Ron and Hermione still couldn’t get their teapot and teacup to work properly. Hermione was more curious about it than Ron was, and he accused her of becoming obsessive. She jinxed his eyebrows together in retaliation. Naturally, they still disagreed about things, but that was simply the Ron-Hermione way. The glue to their marriage relied on bickering and disagreeing over very unimportant things. Like the correct positioning of the kitchen table; Ron thought it would best to stick it against the wall when it wasn’t being used. Hermione thought this was a preposterous idea, and refused to have any part in it.

                “This whole thing has been a bit pointless really,” Ron observed as he sat at the correctly positioned kitchen table one morning (in other words, not propped against the wall), “We shouldn’t ever break up again.”

                “We never broke up,” Hermione said jabbing her wand at a kettle, “We went through a rough patch. It’s called a marriage.”

                Ron nodded in agreement. Marriage. It was a funny business.

                “Harry and Ginny don’t go through rough patches,” he said, pointing a finger at Hermione, “and neither do my parents. Or Bill and Fleur.”

                “I’m sure they do… we’re just more… flamboyant about it, because one of us – usually you – invariably moves out.”

                “Harry and Ginny didn’t argue when I lived with them,” he said, “They’re great together. Don’t you reckon?”

                “I do.” 

                “There’s no other bloke I’d ever trust my sister with,” Ron said, stretching back in his chair and staring out the window, “He’s the best. The cream of the crop.”

                “Maybe you should marry him.”

                “Believe me it’s crossed my mind…” Ron laughed. He then paused to smile at Hermione, and then he got up and enveloped her in a hug. Being so much smaller than Ron Hermione made a little series of muffled “I’m squashed” noises but couldn’t really complain; Ron’s hugs were like books. Always good to have lots of them, and she could find them wherever she went. She also couldn’t cope without them.

                Through a gap in Ron’s arms Hermione’s eyes fell upon the teapot again, and curiosity burned inside her. Ron felt her tense, and rolled his eyes.

                “Would you stop thinking about that bloody teapot!”

                “How do you know I’m thinking about?” Hermione said indignantly into Ron’s t-shirt.

                “Because … I’m clever.”

                “Fine. If you’re so clever, figure out the teapot mystery,” Hermione extracted herself from Ron and picked up the pot, shoving it at him, “And I will love you forever.”

                “You should love me forever anyway!”

                “Try me.”

                Worried, Ron immediately set to work, boiling water, adding teabags and sugar to the pot. So far so good. But the hard bit was yet to come. He grabbed a teacup and tried to pour the tea into it, but as ever the teapot would not relinquish its contents.

                “It won’t do it!” Ron complained, “I can’t think how – “”

                But… in a true lamp-over-head type style, his mouth dropped open and he made a revolutionary suggestion that he couldn’t believe they hadn’t spotted…

                “The teacup! Get your teacup!”

                Hermione pulled it from the cupboard and shoved it next to Ron. The two powder blue pieces of crockery stood there innocently, and then Ron picked up the pot, and waited for a miracle. He started to pour… and – and it did. Golden tea gushed from the spout and landed in the teacup, and it did not disappear.

                “Yes! Yes oh Ron, now I really will love your forever!”

                “Yes, yes you will.”

                Hermione drank the tea, and was pleased. She was very pleased. She smiled up at Ron who smiled back, before both of them came to a terribly cheesy realisation: the teapot couldn’t be with anything apart from the teacup. Nothing else could tolerate or accept the other, and that was completely true of themselves. Nobody else could bear being married to Ron, and no one else could bear being married to Hermione. In short, you couldn’t have one without the other; it simply wouldn’t work.

                And all of that lovely symbolism aside, Ron and Hermione had inherited a lovely teaset. Which was never a bad thing. Never at all.


    *hand up!*

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