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"Well, I don’t remember much of it," Harry said, "but it’s an old Muggle joke I heard once in school." The rain beat down heavily on the tent, and they’d decided to take a day off from traveling. After all, they’d destroyed a horcrux the night before—it was well earned, Harry figured. Hermione, still not speaking with Ron, had excused herself into the next room to read, but Harry still thought he heard her tut over the topic of conversation.
"Go on," Ron said encouragingly.
Harry scrunched up his face, thinking, “Well, it’s one of those knock-knock jokes, and every time you say ‘who’s there’, the asker says ‘banana,” but when you say ‘banana who,’ they just go back to the start of the joke and it goes on and on. But just when you’re getting done with the whole thing, the asker switches it up and when you say ‘who’s there,’ they say ‘orange.’ And you say ‘orange who?’ and they go ‘orange you glad I didn’t say banana?’”
Ron just stared at him.
"And well that’s it," Harry said lamely. Ron stared some more. Harry could feel the seconds ticking by as Ron looked at him. And then, slowly, he started to laugh. It started off small, but then grew until Ron was clutching his stomach, eyes watering. It was Harry’s turn to stare, but soon Ron’s laughter infected Harry too, until he was grinning and then laughing himself. It felt good to laugh; Harry couldn’t remember the last time they’d done that, couldn’t really remember the last time they’d just been friends without the dark gloom of horcruxes and Voldemort hanging over their heads.
They laughed so hard, Hermione came in, eyebrows raised at the sight of the two of them on the floor, faces red, breath wheezing, and teary-eyed. Ron’s laughter faded into gasps, smiling at Hermione, as Harry wiped his eyes and straightened his glasses. But then they glanced at each other and were set off again.
Hermione left them to it, rolling her eyes, but she couldn’t help laughing to herself. Boys.