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"Hurry up, Harry!"
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry continued to plod down the hill leading to Hagrid's place.
"If I hurry anymore, I'll break an ankle, Hermione."
The look she shot him over her shoulder as she hurried down the hill told him she didn't appreciate his quip.
When they finally reached the hut at the bottom of the hill, Fang gave a lazy yawn in greeting from where he was lounging in a spot of sunshine. Since there was no smoke coming from the chimney, Hagrid was probably off on an errand for Dumbledore.
As Harry's eyes landed on Hagrid's prolific garden, he was reminded of the reason for their visit.
Hermione wanted to carve pumpkins.
He was familiar enough with the tradition—he'd never participated in it himself, but he remembered cleaning up the slimy innards of pumpkins unmercifully butchered by Dudley.
In the midst of their world crumbling down around them, Hermione had insisted on the two of them letting themselves be kids again for just a moment.
Originally, there was going to be three of them slicing up pumpkins today, but Ron had unfortunately gotten his invitation revoked, and he was likely too busy with Lavender Brown to bother with anything else anyway.
Harry loved the git—Ron was the brother that Harry never had—but he could admit when someone he cared about was being an idiot, and boy, was Ron ever being an idiot.
Hermione was one of the bravest, most loyal, brilliant, beautiful witches Harry had ever met, and the fact that Ron could turn his back on all that for someone who was likely just a passing flight of fancy boggled Harry's mind.
Just to the left of the pumpkin patch, a worn out blanket was spread out over the ground. Atop it were a couple of wicked looking knives sharpened to a fine point and a large ladle to scoop out the pumpkin slime.
"Shit, 'Mione. Are we carving pumpkins or assassinating someone?"
Hermione turned to look at him, lips pursed and one eyebrow arched. "You if you don't stop complaining about this nice, leisurely activity I've planned. You will have fun, or else! You hear me?"
Raising his hand in a mock salute, Harry said, "Aye aye, captain. Fun will be had."
His heart felt lighter as he watched her giggle and shake her head, and Harry decided right then and there that he would help Hermione forget about her troubles and enjoy being alive—even if that meant he'd be picking bits of pumpkin guts out from under his fingernails for days.
