Chapter Text
The living room is the approximate shape and size of a shoebox despite being the biggest room in their new apartment. On the wall opposite the doorway – which is doorless, ceiling-high, and opening into a hallway – is a window. Underneath the window is a heater. The window is partially obscured by semi-sheer curtains. On the right, there is a TV cabinet without the TV. On the left, flanking the window wall, is a bookshelf made of dark polished wood. It looks sturdy. Next to it, extending almost the whole way to the doorway is a couch. There is a thin blanket draped over the arm closer to the doorway. According to their landlord, the couch is a pullout. A paper lampshade is attached to the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. The floor is parquet that aged okay – the scratched-up bits are easy to ignore. The walls are popcorn and off-white in colour, though completely bare.
It would be advisable to get some pictures up. And maybe a carpet. A plant or two wouldn’t hurt to liven up the place. And of course, the books should be distributed onto the shelving. It’s not half-bad overall. They can work with this, and it’s clear from their faces that they know it.
Harry, Ron and Hermione stand in the doorway, leaning half against it and half against each other. They share a look between them. They’ve saved the living room for the last. The kitchen is usable. The master bedroom is enough for a bed. The second bedroom holds the majority of the storage space in the flat. There’s a study that could easily be made into bedroom number three. The bathroom has a bath.
The living room stands in the centre of the flat and they’re looking at it wordlessly. Harry scratches the back of his neck. Ron crosses his arms over his chest. Hermione bites her thumbnail.
“Eh, it’ll do,” Ron mutters eventually and walks to the couch, with a no care in the world attitude.
He sits down on the couch, sprawls. Harry and Hermione watch him from the doorway.
“Come on,” he says, “I could and will fall asleep on this couch.”
Harry snorts, saying, “Good night.”
“No, you two are joining me.” Ron waves his hands around, motioning for Harry and Hermione to come to the couch too. They do. The living room looks different from this angle – the window on the left, the doorway on the right, the three of them in the centre of it all. Harry sits down on Ron’s left. Hermione sits down on Ron’s right. Ron puts his arms around the two of them.
“It’s the perfect firmness for a nap,” he comments. He briefly releases Hermione from the embrace and fishes out his wand from the pocket of his jeans. He taps the bottom of the couch. The extension springs open. He lays down, pulling Harry and Hermione with him. They curl around him. No hesitation.
It is the perfect firmness for a nap.
They fall asleep, transforming into an indistinguishable lump of bodies, pressed as closely together as human bodies would allow, and then, miraculously, a bit closer still.
After dinner, they pull out the sheets from the linen closet in the master bedroom and make the bed in the living room.