It was an evening in late July. Back in the sitting room of the Burrow, behind this tensest of matches, Audrey and Percy were on the couch, discussing wedding plans – centerpieces or some such. Occasionally, bits of the conversation between the newlyweds-to-be drifted back to Harry's ears; he tried not to let it ruin his concentration. Still – bollocks! George had him good and trapped, best he could figure it. He reached out a hand and plucked a berry from the small bowl he'd prepared, now perched midway between him and George.