Some while later, while Harry was savoring the process of hanging his clothes on his hangers, in his closet, there was the familiar crack of someone Apparating directly onto Harry's top step. Grateful that he'd remembered to set wards to prevent his Muggle neighbors from being startled by this, Harry hurried downstairs to the sound of the rap of the lion's head door knocker.
Kreacher was closing the door behind Ron and a gust of the continuing snow, and holding out his hands to take Ron's coat when Harry turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs.
"Hiya, Kreacher, thanks," Ron said as he handed off the snowy overcoat. Kreacher gathered up the folds of wool that covered all of him but his batlike ears, and asked from under the coat if Ron would like some tea. Ron declined, and as Kreacher wrestled the coat onto a hook, Ron gazed appraisingly around the living room and into the kitchen.
"This is nice, Harry, I think you're going to like it here."
"Me too. I haven't had a chance to do much with it yet, but maybe…" Harry trailed off. Ron suppressed a grin, knowing perfectly well whom Harry was hoping would make the decorating decisions in this house.
Harry waved an arm at the chairs and sofa in invitation, and asked, "What kept you? I thought you were coming straight on after work."
Ron, who had slouched into an armchair, sat back up again. " I was. I did. I mean, I…"
"What?" asked Harry, smiling.
"Well, I just stopped for a word with Dad, and with… well… with Kingsley. Minister Shacklebolt, I mean."
Harry grinned now. "I know. I think of him as Kingsley, but I can't bring myself to call him that in public, even though he told us to." Harry perched on the armchair across from Ron, and asked, "So are you finally going to tell me what's been on your mind these past couple months?"
Ron flung himself backward in the chair again, sighing gustily.
"That transparent, am I? I guess so. Okay, mate, it's like this…"
He broke off as there was another rap at the lion's head knocker, and Ron said, "That'll be Hermione, remember she said at lunch that she'd be along too once she finished up at the office." He cast a sidewise look at Harry and asked, "Ginny been to see the place yet?"
Harry composed his face into a mock-stern mask as he rose to greet Hermione. "Not yet. Don't change the subject."
Hermione hurried into the room, cheeks pink from the cold, and ignoring the chair Harry waved her towards, sat down on the floor as close to the fire as she could get. Kreacher hurried in from the kitchen with a steaming mug and handed it to her.
"Hot butterbeer will warm Miss right up."
"Thank you so much, Kreacher, it's getting still colder outside."
When Kreacher had bustled self-importantly back to the kitchen, Hermione gave Harry a mischievous look over the top of her mug.
"So, Harry, has Ginny seen the house yet?"
"NO! Merlin's pants, Ginny hasn't seen the house yet, I'm getting there, all right?"
Hermione sighed in exasperation.
"Please tell me at least one of you has gotten something accomplished. Ron, have you asked Harry what he thinks yet?"
"I was just about to, when you and all the cold air you let in interrupted me."
Ron rolled his eyes. Hermione rolled her eyes as well, and muttered, "Well for heaven's sake don't let me interrupt you," into her mug.
Harry sat down and faced Ron directly, and spread his hands in a let's-have-it-then gesture. Ron took a deep breath, and said in a rush, "The thing is, I've been thinking about leaving the Ministry and going into business with George."
Harry leaned slowly back in his chair; this was not what he had expected at all. Unable to choose among all the possible questions flying through his head, he simply looked at Ron and said, "Er, when you say…-"
Ron looked somewhat relieved that Harry's initial response was no louder than this. He blew out the breath he seemed to have been holding, relaxed a bit and ran his hands through his hair.
"Well, you know how the business has grown, George needs a partner. He's opened the shop in Hogsmeade, and the one in Paris, and he's looking at the markets in Berlin and Rome now…"
"But to work with George, Ron? The pair of you would drive each other mad! He took the mickey out of you non-stop your whole life, him and Fred…"
Harry trailed off and Ron shook his head. "Yeah, but you know how much he's changed in the past few years." He started to grin a bit, and continued, "There's still some George there, it just seems to be channeled mostly into product development. I've been talking to him a good bit about the Berlin and Rome expansion, and he's taken quite a bit of my advice about advertising."
Harry frowned, confused. "He has?"
Ron sat up a little straighter. "The advert campaign leading into the Paris opening was about half mine."
"Blimey, Ron, I never knew that! That expansion made an absurd pile of Galleons for Wheezes! Why did you never tell me you helped with that? That was brilliant, that was!"
Ron's eyes twinkled a bit at the perfect timing for the familiar joke. "Always the tone of surprise. Anyway, George wants me to come aboard as a full partner and run the London and Hogsmeade shops and be in charge of advertising while he handles development. He'll pay me the portion of the Paris adverts I worked on, and we'll be 50-50 partners." Concern came into Ron's voice as he continued, "Also I think he really needs me in other ways than just business. With Fred gone, I'm the brother he's closest to. I'd like to see the old George back a bit."
Hermione had scooted away from the fire, warm now, and was leaning against Ron's legs. She now patted his knee gently, as though in approval.
Harry asked, a little hotly, "I do understand about George, but what about you, Ron? I thought you were happy as an Auror."
"I am, Harry, it's not about that-"
"-and you're a good Auror too-"
"-but not as good as you."
This brought Harry to a full thunderstruck stop. "Ron, no… No, please don't do this because… I mean, I know people pay attention to me… Don't leave a job you're happy with because of that! We could make some changes… I could transfer…"
Ron waved his arms, horrified. "NO! No, wait, all I meant was, I'll never be as good an Auror as you, because you were born for it. You love this job, and you've known you would since we were in fifth year. You have, I don't know, this sense of purpose about it. I work as an Auror, Harry, you are an Auror." Ron looked hard into Harry's face, as though willing his friend to understand. "Maybe I did kind of just go with you into Auror training, it seemed natural at the time, after all the three of us had been through. Maybe I did think, a bit, that there wasn't anything else I'd be good at. But now I've found this business lark, and I think I'm a dab hand at it, and maybe it would be my…" Ron looked at the floor, then at Hermione, as though for her encouragement, then back at Harry. "My best purpose."
Harry, still feeling as though he'd been hit with several Bludgers in rapid succession, asked a bit faintly, "Wasn't there supposed to be a question in there somewhere?"
Ron took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Harry, would you be horribly angry with me forever if I left the Ministry and went into business with my brother?"
They laughed together, a little shakily, and Harry dropped his gaze to where Hermione was still sitting on the floor, leaned against Ron. "What did you say when he asked you about this?"
Ron, who had leaned forward and slid his arms around Hermione's shoulders from behind, grinned happily up at Harry and said, "What she said was… not for anyone else's ears."