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“This is your fault, you know.” Harry glared at Hermione as something dripped down his fringe onto his glasses.

“I know,” Hermione sighed as she tried to wring out her blouse. Shouts of glee ringing from behind them.

“I know you were trying to explain the muggle world to Ron, but did you have to tell him what would happen if you shook a soda?” Harry flopped back on the grass as vows of revenge were hurled by maniacs running here and there. “Did you not know what he was up to when he asked to bring a few cases to the family dinner?”

Hermione sighed again, fondly as she watched the Weasley siblings tearing after each other spraying sticky, foamy liquid. She picked up one of the cans littering the garden. “I suspected, but I thought it might be good for them.”

Harry turned his head and smiled at the rare laughter coming from the direction of a waterfall of red hair. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”