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"Do you see that one there?"

"Where?"

"That one. The one that looks like a broomstick."

"What? That does not look like a broomstick in the slightest, Ron."

"Of course it does!"

"No, looks more like a tree to me."

"No no no, clearly it's a broomstick. Since when are trees triangular at the top?"

"Since I said so."

Ron laughed heartily and rolled on his side to gaze at Hermione.

She was laughing too; her face as bright as the sun that was shining on it. She was stretched out on the grass, her entire body relaxed, soaking up the wonderful summer weather. The breeze travelled up to the top of the hill on which they were reclining. It ruffled her dress and tossed her hair about her face. But she didn't bother trying to fix it: she knew she was fighting a losing battle trying to tame that hair of hers.

Even so, Ron tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear in a romantic gesture. It promptly rebelled, popping right back up to dance across Hermione's forehead. She giggled at Ron's attempt at cuteness and pulled him to her for a kiss.

After the embrace, Ron went right back to lying next to Hermione on the grass. He wriggled his hand down to hers and grasped it tightly.

"Okay, maybe it does look more like a broomstick than a tree."