"I uh don't mind that so much. It's the people who get to me. There's so much hugging. I don't uh know why so many people want to hug us." It seemed like he had to dodge hugs daily now; that used to just be a Burrow thing. "Do you think if Parvati had grown up with the new grandparents she would uh have hugged us more?" He couldn't fathom that idea of his mother, but having met the younger Parvati he wasn't sure anymore.
The giggle was contagious, and Al joined in. "It's filled with broken hearts and accidental pregnancies and and you know. That kind of thing. It would definitely be a best-seller in our time." Hell, it would probably still be a best-seller. Somehow he doubted fascination with The Girl Who Lived had died completely over the last eight years, and if it had there would certainly be a resurgence as their return become public knowledge within the international community.
"I'd just figured out what uh what I wanted to do really, and now I I can't do that. So. I know. What you're feeling. Kind of."