Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or relating material.
Drop Dead Uncle Fred
"Ewww, that is disgusting! What is it?"
"It's a mud soufflé with cricket cluster embellishment, Auntie!"
"A what—I want it out! My beautiful dress robes! What child of horrible child are you?"
"It wasn't just me!"
"Come here you brat!"
"Nooo!" screamed the child running through the house.
Ginny and Harry had decided to go on a walk through the outskirts of Hogsmeade that day. They, after finally admitting to their feelings towards each other were very happy. They were now living together and were perfectly content. Nothing could make their days happier.
Passing a house they heard yells from inside. Ginny looked at Harry frowning. Then, suddenly, a small child, burst through the door from inside, being chased by none other than a very angry and frazzled Romilda Vane.
"Get back here, Evie!" she screeched.
"Never!" yelled the child.
"When you mother hears of this—"
"I told you! Drop Dead Fred did it!"
"Drop Dead—" started Romilda angrily, but was forced to stop when she tripped over a string that was pulled taught about six inches over the grass. Before she could do anything else, a bucket of paint, which was hung from a tree, dumped on her. The screams of anguish could be heard for miles.
The little girl laughed hysterically giving a thumbs up to an invisible figure.
Harry and Ginny continued on, grins on their faces. Correction: very few things could make their days happier.
A/N: Thank you again to everyone who read and reviewed this story. Also, I apologize for it taking two years to write a two hundred word epilogue.