A/N: Hello, all! So, if you follow me on Tumblr, you've probably already read these...but if not, here's the deal. I asked for prompts several months ago, and posted the first 12 drabbles I wrote as the first chapter of this fic. However...I soon got even more prompts, so here we've got another dozen! I've actually got a couple more left to do, so I'm sure there will eventually be a third chapter of this too, haha. Also, I started a long Ron/Hermione one-shot awhile ago that will hopefully see the light of day sooner rather than later. :)

Disclaimer: JKR is not me, I am not JKR. In case that was confusing.

Anonymous: Request for Drabble... Hermione is away and Ron is watching the kids when Rose gets her first period.

"Dad?"

Rose's voice was hesitant as she stood in the doorway to the living room, twisting her fingers together.

"Yes, Rosie?" He folded up his copy of the Daily Prophet. Ginny's report of last night's Harpies game could wait if something was bothering his little girl - even if she wasn't so little anymore. She was a teenager now, and a fiercely independent one at that, so if she was willingly and sincerely asking his help, he knew it had to be something serious.

"Erm…when's Mum getting back?" Rose shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her eyes darting everywhere that her father wasn't.

"Late. She said she ought to be out of court 'round seven or so, but the debrief and the trip home from France will take some time," Ron answered. "Why?"

Rose seemed to struggle with herself, glancing at the clock as though to calculate whether her problem could wait until Hermione got home. After a moment of hesitation, her face stiffened with resolve in a spitting image of the way her mother's did in the face of adversity.

"Do you know where she keeps her…" Rose trailed off for a moment, biting her lip.

"Her what?" Ron prompted, though something in the back of his brain told him he wasn't going to like where this was leading.

"Where she keeps her…her womanly things?" Rose's cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson as she averted her eyes to the floor.

"Sweetheart, I'm not gonna be able to find it if I don't know what you're looking for," Ron pointed out warily.

"Her...you know, the things…" Rose gestured vaguely, and when Ron didn't respond, she stomped her foot in frustration. "I mean her tampons, dammit!"

"Oh." Ron found himself feeling a bit faint, but rather than stay and prolong the moment, he leapt to his feet and started toward the stairs. "I'll get them. And watch your language, young lady!" he called as an afterthought, though he doubted she could hear him over his bounding footsteps toward the master bathroom. He shook his head as if to clear it; he was becoming more like Hermione every day.

After a bit of rummaging, he found the box in question in one of the bathroom cupboards. Unsure how many Rose would be needing and thoroughly unwilling to ask, he grabbed the whole thing, holding it a few inches away from his body as he returned to the living room. Much to his relief, Rose darted away as soon as he handed her the box, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment.

When Hermione at last arrived home eight hours later, Ron was already in bed, awake and staring at the ceiling.

"Our daughter's become a woman," he said by way of greeting as his wife began to change from her court robes to her pajamas.

"She's done what now?" Hermione shimmied into her favorite jumper, one of his from his sixth year. It was still far too big for her, even after two pregnancies had altered her frame.

"Asked me for…y'know, your things." Ron scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "Y'know, for your monthly."

Hermione's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! Oh, yes, of course!"

"Did you know?"

She shook her head. "No, but I figured it would be soon. I was fourteen when I got mine the first time."

"Oh." Ron shifted to let her crawl in next to him. "She and I didn't really talk about it, so…"

"I'll speak with her first thing in the morning," Hermione assured him, leaning over to kiss him chastely on the lips. "It's an awkward conversation to have when it's first starting, even with your mum. No wonder she wouldn't want to discuss it with you."

"Well, the feeling was mutual," Ron admitted, adjusting his position so that Hermione could rest her head in the crook of his arm. Their fingers laced together as they rested their joined hands on his chest.

"She didn't seem too embarrassed, did she?"

"Dunno. It's like you said, it wasn't really meant to be a father-daughter moment."

"You'll have plenty of those in other contexts," Hermione agreed, yawning. "Good night, dear. Love you."

"Love you, too," Ron said as he closed his eyes, struck once again by how lucky he was to be married to the woman beside him, how grateful he was that they chose each other every day - and, of course, by how amazing it was that they had created such a beautiful family together. Even the awkward and uncomfortable moments were worth it a million times over, so long as it was a moment spent with them.

Anonymous: Drabble request - Hermione gets her first period at Hogwarts, Ron asks her what's wrong and ends up being rather sweet about it... Possibly when Hermione begins to realise she could fall for him in a big way.

Hermione rubbed her side, trying to alleviate some of the pain, as she paged through yet another book of rules, regulations, and precedents. Most of the cases described were rather gruesome, but if she could find something that could lead to the Buckbeak's acquittal, she was happy to help. What's more, Hagrid had helped her through some rather trying times over the past year. It was only right that she return the favor.

It was tedious work, but since she and Ron had become friends again, he had been diligently assisting her in sorting through the information and looking for loopholes or exceptions. In fact, she was expecting him back from dinner any moment now; and it was a good thing, because her vision was starting to slide out of focus as she turned yet another page in the enormous tome. When was the last time she'd slept, again?

Today was particularly uncomfortable due to a rather…unpleasant gift from Mother Nature. Hermione had been expecting this for some time, but somehow she hadn't expected the side effects to be quite so acute. She wished she'd taken her mum's word for it; now, just a little too embarrassed to face Madam Pomfrey to ask for a wizarding painkiller, all she could do was write and ask for ibuprofen for next time.

"Hermione?"

She blinked. Somehow, she hadn't noticed Ron enter the common room, but now, he was standing before her, shuffling his feet and looking a bit apprehensive with his hands held behind him.

"Hi, Ron," she said, smiling and patting the arm of the chair next to her. "Where's Harry?"

"Quidditch," Ron replied quickly, not quite meeting her eyes. "Erm…here."

He took his hands from behind his back and shoved them toward her; in one, he held a plate with two slices of toast covered in what looked like applesauce, and in the other, a fuzzy-looking blanket.

"What's all this?" she asked as he sat down next to her and tugged one of the books into his lap.

"Erm." Ron rubbed the back of his head with one hand, his gaze set on his feet. "You said you had a stomachache…y'know, earlier. When we were little, Mum always used to set us up on the sofa and give us toast and applesauce, so I thought it might…y'know, help."

The tips of his ears were burning red by the time he finished and chanced a glance in her direction. Hermione beamed at him, something she didn't quite recognize taking hold of her heart as she looked back at the irritating, rude, and wonderful boy who was her best friend.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, leaning over to pat his hand kindly. She was so touched that he had remembered her complaint, even if it had been a bit of a white lie, and she wished she knew a better way to tell him how much it meant to her. "Really, Ron, that's sweet."

His ears only burned brighter as he replied, "Don't mention it. What'd you leave off on in this one, page three hundred or so?"

"Yeah," Hermione said absentmindedly, gazing at him a minute longer as he shifted in his seat and began to read. "Something like that."

The feeling that had surrounded her heart had spread throughout her entire being and come to settle in the pit of her stomach, twisting and turning rather pleasantly. She wrapped the soft blanket around her shoulders and nibbled on the toast, allowing herself a rare moment of quiet contemplation while he read. There was something different about Ron; she supposed she'd always known there was, but lately, she found that a particular grin from him could make her heart skip a beat, and a gesture like this…well, she had the urge to show her appreciation rather differently than she had. Perhaps she wasn't ready to define the feeling just yet, but when she was…well, it had the potential to be quite wonderful, indeed.

Anonymous: Drabble idea/request? Ron and hermione going to visit hermiones parents and hermiones mom starts using the vacuum cleaner and it startles ron

Ron let out a sigh of relief as he sank onto the cushions of the Grangers' living room. Mr. Granger was outside playing with Rose and Hugo, and Mrs. Granger and Hermione were preparing lunch in the kitchen. Knowing that he'd had a particularly long week at the office, Hermione had sent him away with a muggle brand of beer in hand, instructing him to rest for a bit before the meal. It was one of those little things, those daily reminders that he had married the most brilliant and amazing woman in the world.

He'd just allowed his eyes to slide shut when he heard a faint buzzing noise coming from the hallway. He tried to ignore it, writing it off as any number of the strange contraptions Hermione's parents owned, but the sound only got louder as the minutes wore on, until it seemed as though the thing was buzzing in Ron's ear. His eyes snapped open, and he gripped his wand instinctively, his eyes darting around the room for the source of his annoyance.

Scurrying around on the floor of its own accord was a plastic box, making a deliberate path around the room as though it had been enchanted to do so. Ron watched it for a moment, his wand trained on the device as it traveled throughout the room. After about a minute, the thing turned in its path, and it was headed directly for him.

"Hermione!" Ron called, trying to keep the mounting panic out of his voice as the device continued to buzz toward him. "Hermione, could you get in here please?"

But it was too late. The device buzzed straight toward him, colliding with his foot. When it seemed to realize it couldn't go any further, it reversed its path before ramming straight into his foot a second time.

"Immobulus!" Ron cried, and at precisely the same moment, Hermione burst into the room, her wand aloft.

"What…oh." She waved her wand toward the device to summon it toward her. "Did Mum's new toy scare you, Ron?" she asked, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Well, what the bloody hell is it?" he demanded indignantly. "And why can it think?"

"It's a vacuum cleaner," Hermione explained, laughing as she waved her wand again and set the box back on the floor. It continued where it had left off, scurrying about the floor and buzzing. Ron stepped out of the way, casting a disgruntled frown at the thing.

"But vacuum cleaners are the ones you push!" he protested, crossing the room toward his still chuckling wife.

"This is a new model Mum's been trying. You can program it to do the cleaning on its own," she explained, rubbing his shoulder consolingly. "I understand why it might have startled you; I thought it was a bit weird the first time she showed me, too."

"Bloody thing acts like it's a dog or something," Ron grumbled, watching as the vacuum cleaner began to make circles around the coffee table in the center of the room.

"We can get one, if you like," Hermione teased. "The point is that there'll be less housework to do if a machine can do it for you."

"Yeah, well, that's what we've got these for," Ron reminded her, waving his wand in the air and producing a single rose, which he offered her with a grand flourish.

"Impressive," Hermione remarked, beaming at him, "but I'm still telling Mum you tried to hex her vacuum."

"Hermione!" She cut off his half-hearted protest with a soft kiss, still smiling as she pressed her lips to his.

"Come on, dear. Lunch is almost ready."

Ron took her offered hand and followed obediently, the prospect of a hearty meal far outweighing any potential embarrassment the story of his altercation with the vacuum might bring. But as they entered the kitchen, one very important question still weighed on his mind, and Ron made a mental note to ask Hermione once they were alone again: if muggles had discovered how to make something as cool as robots, why, exactly, were they only using them to clean the floor?

Anonymous: Request for Drabble? Ron/ Ron and Hermione telling Arthur and Molly they are going to have another grandchild (telling them hermione is pregnant)

"I don't know why we can't just tell them," Ron pointed out yet again. "It worked just fine with your parents."

"Well, yes, but this is my parents' first grandchild," Hermione replied, pinning another purple ribbon to the enormous poster board she'd purchased from a muggle shop the other day. "My mum agreed; it's a cute way to make the announcement."

"Well, if your mum agreed…" Ron grumbled, sprinkling glitter on the newly painted letters adorning the board. Hermione seemed to be under the impression that because their baby would be the eighth Weasley grandchild, they ought to make the pregnancy more memorable somehow. As if his mum and dad would need another reason to start crying.

"It'll be nice, too, because they'll be expecting it if we just tell them," Hermione continued. "I mean, really, what else would you expect from a married couple that says they have something to tell you?"

"Divorce?" Ron suggested, causing Hermione to throw a handful of glitter at his face.

"This way, we'll just walk them into the room, and it'll be a complete surprise," she finished, grinning in satisfaction as she murmured a charm to make the paint change color from orange to scarlet and gold every few seconds. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"I'd probably go with gaudy, actually," Ron remarked, raising an eyebrow as Hermione levitated the poster to hang above their fireplace. The thing was a mess of paint, ribbons, flowers, and glitter, and you had to squint to read the message in the middle proclaiming "WE'RE PREGNANT" in block letters.

"Well, we've never been much for arts and crafts," Hermione reminded him, backing up a few steps to admire her handiwork. "I think it's cute. It looks like a child made it, that's sort of the point."

"Pregnancy makes you barmy," Ron observed, wrapping an arm about her shoulders and kissing the top of her head, avoiding the splotches of paint that had worked their way into her curls.

"You love me anyway," Hermione said, and he leaned his head against hers in agreement.

Just then, the flames in the fireplace burned brighter, and Arthur Weasley came tumbling out of the hearth. As he tried to get his bearings, he stumbled a couple of steps - and straight toward the buckets of paint, glitter, and ribbons. He caught himself from falling at the last second, but he accidentally kicked the paint and the glitter straight across the room and onto the sofa; as it soared through the air, the contents spilled out, drenching Ron and Hermione in orange paint and sparkles.

Molly followed out of the fireplace just as Arthur had closed his open jaw and Ron and Hermione had wiped the paint away from their eyes and mouths. "What on…?"

Ron gestured toward the mantle in explanation. "Surprise," he and Hermione said weakly.

The paint was forgotten seconds later, when both Arthur and Molly cried out in happiness and hurried to hug the expecting couple. Messes could be cleaned up; that was what magic was for, after all - but moments like these could never be replaced.

Anonymous: Drabble where Hermione comes back from finishing her last year at Hogwarts and Ron and Harry are waiting for her and Ginny at the platform?

She can see King's Cross before they arrive. The platform looks the same as it always has, one of the few constants in a world that has been turned upside down and backwards since her first trip on the Hogwarts Express nearly eight years ago. But it's just an illusion; she knows that now. The familiarity of a place can only provide her so much comfort. Even the halls of Hogwarts, the first place she felt she truly belonged, are not quite enough anymore.

It's not until she gets off the train that she can feel it, that warmth that tells her everything is going to be okay. And that is when she sees his mop of red hair towering above the rest of the crowd. She takes off at a run, dodging and weaving through the hundreds of people gathered, whose names she does not know but who know her by some delicate mix of legend and reputation.

Because home is no longer a place. Home is advice from her mum, an intellectual discussion with her dad. Home is Mrs. Weasley's cooking and Mr. Weasley's inquiries into the finer details of muggle life. Home is laughing with Harry and Ginny, and it is that happiness that fills her so completely when she sees the love in her friends' eyes as they smile at one another.

And now more than ever, home is what she's running to - not a place, but a person. Because when she feels Ron's arms engulf her and hold her tightly to him, when she clings to the back of his jumper and buries her face in his chest, when they murmur "I missed you" or "I love you" against each other's skin, when the words don't matter anymore because their lips meet and say everything they couldn't for so long…this is when Hermione knows she is exactly where she ought to be.

Anonymous: Drabble ask: Hermione and Ron are struggling to conceive their first baby, angst but with some hope at the end.

Thirteen years of friendship with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger and six years in a romantic relationship with the latter meant that Ron Weasley was not easily alarmed. Still, having to duck to avoid a frying pan to the face was enough to do a number on just about anybody.

"Just me, love!" he called, following his wife as she stormed from room to room, stopping every now and then to cast a spell and send another of their belongings crashing to the floor. The pan had been far from her first victim; they had to avoid more than one broken vase as they paced. Hermione seemed to hardly notice him as she moved with purpose, breathing rather heavily and clearly about a second away from exploding.

"Did I do something?" Ron tried tentatively as she abandoned her wand and instead pounded a fist against the wall. "Did you have a bad day at work?"

But when she finally turned around to face him, there was no anger left in her expression - rather, her eyes were filled with tears. Broken glass forgotten, he opened his arms and allowed her to collapse in his embrace.

"I'm not pregnant," she hiccupped, her voice muffled as she buried her face into the front of his robes. "Again."

Ron felt his heart begin to sink, but he stiffened his resolve before he let his disappointment show. "So we try again next month, yeah?" Even he had to wince at the forced optimism in his tone. "It'll happen soon; we've only been at it a few months."

"I know," Hermione sniffed, squeezing his torso gratefully and leaning back to meet his eyes. Hers were noticeably red around the edges; the tears must have started long before his arrival. "It doesn't help that everyone at the Ministry is a shithead."

"Ah, there's the swear." Ron grinned in spite of himself, and Hermione's mouth twitched upward briefly.

"It was a bad day all around. I'm just so frustrated," she sighed. Ron glanced to the broken plate at their feet and raised an eyebrow. "Obviously," she allowed, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

"That's what 'reparo' is for," Ron offered, drawing his wand from the pocket of his robes and wordlessly casting the charm.

Hermione sighed again and sank back into his arms. "What if I can't?" she murmured a moment later.

"Can't what?"

"Have a baby." Her voice was wavering, and he could feel her begin to tremble in his arms as the weight of her words hung in the air around them.

"Hermione-" He tried to comfort her, but she cut him off before he could begin.

"It's a possibility. I - I've read all about it, especially with…well, what happened during the war. I -," she stopped, drawing a deep breath before admitting quietly, "It hurts, you know. Every time one of the kids calls me 'Aunt Hermione.' Because it reminds me that I'm not anybody's mum yet. And what if I never am?"

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it," Ron said firmly. He might have felt angry at all they'd done to her, to the rest of them - but he knew now was not the time for resentment. Now was the time to heal. "We can get through anything," he reminded her. "Whatever the case may be, we'll find a way. There're options."

"But I know you've always wanted your own," she said quietly.

"I've always wanted a family, yeah. A family with you," he corrected her. "Hell, it could be the two of us and twenty-seven cats like Crookshanks, and I'd still be happy as a hippogriff. But it's going to happen for us, love, somehow. I know it is."

She leaned back to look at him again, her eyes shining. "They're so wrong about you. All those awful people at the Prophet, I mean," she said, sniffing again. "I always think so, of course, but sometimes I remember just how much, and I want to break things all over again."

"Hold that thought." Ron crossed to the cupboard, retrieving a set of jars they'd inherited from some distant Weasley cousin they'd never met. "Ready?" he asked her, gesturing toward the door.

"It's freezing outside," Hermione reprimanded, but she was already following him.

"Are you a witch or not?" Ron teased, and she kissed him again - and not entirely to shut him up, he reckoned.

Sometimes things were broken, but that didn't mean they were permanently so. And sometimes things weren't perfect - but even then, there would always be love to fall back on. That, after all, is what marriage is for.

d19romfis: I just wondering, what if , ron-hermione still boyfriend-girl friend, because little accident, mione pregnant, i know them want married someday, but it's too soon, them still have money to saved, what them will do.. (I know it's silly )

She takes the test at work, over lunch. She supposes later that she should have done it in the privacy of her own home, but a large part of her didn't think it would amount to anything. She's only twenty, after all, and this wasn't going to happen for another four or five years.

But it does.

For the first time in her life, her feet work faster than her mind and she's in the Auror office before she quite realizes she's left the bathroom stall. Ron is talking to his coworkers, but whatever look she has on her face causes him to stop in his tracks the minute he sees her.

"Hermione? What's wrong?"

He's more worried than she's seen him in almost two years, and his frown only deepens when she grabs his hand and tugs him out into the corridor.

"Seriously," he says when she comes to a stop a few meters away from the lift at the end of the corridor. "You're scaring me, love, what's-"

"I'm pregnant." She says it in a rush because she can barely even breathe, let alone speak.

"You're-" Ron is turning pale at an alarming rate, the color draining from his face faster than if she'd cast a Disillusionment charm. He raises a shaking hand to her abdomen, meeting her eyes tentatively. She guesses hers must be as wide as his.

"How?" he breathes, the air he's been holding in his lungs rushing out all at once.

"I think you know how," she manages to say. Tears are pricking at the corner of her eyes, but she hasn't had time to work out whether she is happy or scared or a mix of the two.

He notices. He does that now, much more than he used to. Or maybe he always did, but now he has the courage and the confidence to act on it. And thank Merlin he's got it now, because she isn't sure she'd be able to stay standing much longer without his arms wrapped around her.

She doesn't know how long they stand there, trying to get a grip on what she's just revealed. On the fact that there's a life growing inside of her, a life that they created, and absolutely everything is going to change.

"You're having a baby?" he murmurs into her hair, excitement seeping into his voice as he tightens his embrace. "You're having our baby?"

"I…I know that it's not how we planned it, and that we haven't had much time to think about it, but I…I want to keep the baby. Is…is that okay?" she asks.

There was never a question in her mind, really, because he is it for her and she for him, and they've always wanted to start a family of their own. They've talked about it, even, in the moments when they lay in bed together and dare to dream about the future…but now the future is here before they knew it would be. She knows that he will say he is happy, but the fact is that they're twenty years old, they are decidedly not married, they aren't even living together…

"It's more than okay." And she believes him, because his smile is the widest she's ever seen it when he moves to kiss her.

And now, she knows that the happiness outweighs the fear. "I…I just can't believe it," she says, finally. "What if we aren't ready?"

"Look, I'll be honest. I'm bloody terrified," Ron replies, but he's still beaming as he rubs her arms in comfort. "But I love you, more than anything. And maybe it's a few years earlier than we thought, and maybe being parents is going to be one of the hardest things we've ever done, but I know we're going to love our kid. The rest of it is just details."

Hermione almost bursts into tears right then and there, because they've never gotten the timing just right, and they're only twenty and they aren't even engaged, but they've fought a war and they're alive and they're having a baby.

"And besides," Ron continues, his own eyes shining with emotion, "I also know that you're going to get every book there is on pregnancy and parenting, and you're probably going to read them out loud to me, and I'm going to pretend that it's incredibly boring, but I'm going to let you do it anyway. Not just because I love the sound of your voice, either, but because you're going to be an incredible mum, and I'm going to be the best dad I can be."

"I love you," Hermione chokes through the tears that are now streaming down her face as she embraces him fiercely again, because she doesn't know when they grew up and she's not entirely sure that they really are, but somehow, she knows that they can do this. They can do anything, really, as long as they're together. It isn't going to be easy, but love has a way of making everything okay, and the amount of love she feels for the little family they're about to start is stronger than magic could ever be.

For Tara, my wonderful fic friend and a beta for my original novel, who (perhaps jokingly) requested: "Ron + the New York Stock Exchange! Dolly Parton lyrics! Hermione + the Cold War! Ron and Hermione travel back in time to help build the pyramids! Mwahahahahahaha!"

Well, here it is. Bring it on, woman. :)

"Hermione?" Ron poked his wife's arm until she looked up from her book to glare at him. "Hermione, have you heard of this?"

"Heard of what, Ron?"

"The New York Stock Exchange!" He gestured to his magazine excitedly. "This Wall Street place sounds mental. I'd have taken muggle - sorry, world affairs," he corrected himself with the equivalent Hermione had taught him years ago. "Point is, I'd have taken it if we could see stuff like that."

"What on Earth interests you about the stock market?" Hermione shook her head, bemused, as she lowered her voice. "Muggle finance is far less interesting than what goes on at Gringotts, I assure you, so hush. We're on an airplane, Ron, people are going to start to stare if you go on about it."

Ron nodded, and Hermione turned back to her book. But no less than two minutes later, he was tugging insistently on her sleeve. "Hermione, seriously, look at this. They've got this bell, see, and they let all these famous people ring it to tell them they can start trading their stock-thingys!"

"Ron," Hermione remarked casually, "do you know what my book is about?"

He tilted his head to read the title. "The Cold War in a Comparative Perspective."

"Do you know much about the Cold War?"

"Wasn't that the one where everybody was all stand-offish and scared of each other?"

"Not really, but close enough," Hermione allowed. "My point is that if you continue on this way for the whole flight, you might just find yourself in the middle of another one."

Well-read on Muggle history though he was not, Ron knew this could mean nothing good. So, he turned back to his magazine and let his wife read in peace. This trip had been her idea, anyway; he didn't need to get her riled up before they even got off the airplane.

About an hour into their flight, Ron had read his magazine cover to cover, so he reached into Hermione's carry-on bag for her portable music player - an iPod, she'd called it. Her parents had bought the device and a rather large set of headphones for her last birthday. This sort of technology was still a bit confusing for Ron, but he knew which buttons to press to make the songs play in a random order. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat as much as he could. (Airplanes weren't particularly comfortable for somebody as tall as he was.)

Hermione was a fan of classical music, which was pretty but could put you right to sleep if you didn't have anything else to do. Within a few minutes, Ron was drifting in and out of sleep, dozing as he listened to the soft piano melodies weaving in and out of his ears through the silly-looking headphones.

But a few songs in, something caught his attention long enough to keep him awake. This number was more upbeat, and there were words…he listened carefully, trying to catch the chorus.

"Baby I'm burning out of control, Baby I'm burning body and soul. Hot as a pistol of flaming desire, Baby I'm burning, You got me on fire."

Ron peered over at his wife; she wasn't reading anymore, just staring out the window as they flew. Deciding to try his luck, he grabbed her hand and leaned over to murmur in her ear.

"Baby, I'm burning. Body and soul."

She whipped around to face him, smacking him across the face with her long, bushy hair. "Are you listening to my mum's Dolly Parton songs? I don't know why she even has those; Dolly's more of an American artist, last I checked..."

"No. I'm just hot as a flame for you, baby."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, but she didn't let go of his hand, and he thought he could detect a grin forming at the corners of her mouth. "You're horribly bored, aren't you?"

"Yeah. And I don't like this song at all," he remarked, using his free hand to knock the headphones off his ears. "I mean, I can blush like nobody's business, but burning like a fire of desire or whatever doesn't sound like fun."

"It's a metaphor," Hermione explained passionlessly. "We're almost there, anyway."

"We should have gone to the New York Stock Exchange," Ron teased. "I bet they have a Cold War museum or something, too."

"But I've never seen the pyramids!" Hermione reminded him, sitting up taller in her seat and beaming at the thought of it. "And you have, so you can show me everything."

"You realize I was thirteen at the time, yeah?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. "Think for a minute; that was almost half a lifetime ago. And with all that's happened, it was more like three lifetimes, wasn't it?"

"It'll be like going back in time!" Hermione enthused. "Just imagine if you'd been the one building them! Think about what an incredible feat of human achievement that is; it's absolutely amazing."

"You know a few of them were built by magic, right?" Ron only just remembered to lower his voice, but Hermione still wrinkled her nose at him.

"Stop trying to burst my bubble," she scolded.

"I'm not! I'm trying to be your tour guide, just like you asked!" he pointed out, squeezing her hand gently as if to emphasize his point. She squeezed back, but stuck her tongue out childishly.

"Who said getting married meant we had to grow up, eh?" Ron smirked, shifting to accommodate Hermione as she laid her head on his shoulder. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head, and he didn't even mind that her hair tickled his nose; in fact, a part of him loved it, because he loved everything about her. Sometimes it would hit him just how much in the most unlikely of moments - like while they were bickering on an airplane, for example.

Because they were the kind of couple that had silly arguments for the sake of it, and they were also the kind of couple that took their second honeymoon only eight months after their first. They were the kind of couple that didn't just last, but the kind of couple that kept growing, learning to love each other better while pushing each other to be their best. And perhaps most importantly, they didn't have to be any particular kind of couple - they were Ron and Hermione, and that was all they ever needed to be.

Anonymous: I have a drabble prompt for you. I know you have tons still to do, so please take your time, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head. I've read today that for the next week JK Rowling is going to write commentaries for the Quidditch World Cup on Pottermore, and singing them as Ginny Potter. Rowling also wrote on Twitter that Ginny is expected to be joined by her family for the Final. I'd love a drabble about Harry stuck at home with the kids - welcome appearance by R/Hr :D Could you do that?

"For the last time, Hermione, I'm not having our children cheering for your Hogwarts sweetheart," Ron reminded his wife as they ambled down the path toward the Potter residence, their fingers entwined as they swung their hands between them.

"And for the last time, Ron, that's utterly ridiculous," Hermione replied. "And besides, if anybody was my 'Hogwarts sweetheart,' whatever that means, it was you."

Ron flushed, clearly pleased, but still argued: "We weren't really together at Hogwarts."

"Not while we were both students, anyway," Hermione countered, a particular gleam in her eye as she turned to grin at her husband.

Ron beamed at the memory. "Yeah, dunno if we want to use the term 'sweetheart' to describe those encounters though, do we?"

"Seems a bit tame, yes," Hermione agreed sagely.

"I'm still buying the Brazilian gear," Ron said as they approached the doorstep of the house, designed to look like a cottage but far too large to truly fit the term.

"I know," Hermione affirmed with a roll of her eyes, though Ron knew without looking that she still wore an affectionate smile as she knocked on the door.

They could only make eyes at each other a second longer; the door was opened so suddenly and with so much force that they nearly jumped out of their skin.

"Uncle Ron! Aunt Hermione!"

James flew through the entrance hall on a toy broomstick, performing various tricks that should not have been possible on a child's broom and, much to his godparents' chagrin, holding onto his younger brother, Al, by the ankle.

"James Sirius! You let your brother go this instant!" Hermione scolded, racing toward them as Al continued to dangle precariously in the air, looking quite unsure as to whether he should be enjoying the ride or screaming with terror.

"It's useless, Hermione, just let them be. James will get bored soon enough." Harry had just appeared in the foyer, holding a screaming Lily in his arms. Though she was already six years old, she hadn't quite outgrown her temper tantrum phase. "I wouldn't let her have another biscuit," Harry explained wearily as he shifted his daughter from one side to the other.

"Place damn near falls apart without Ginny, eh?" Ron chortled, but Hermione frowned.

"Are you really letting your sons roughhouse like that, Harry?" She crossed her arms as James giggled and zigzagged between his father and his uncle. Al had begun to laugh as well, though rather nervously as he swung into Ron's leg.

"I'm watching them; they aren't going to be hurt," Harry dismissed, nodding toward the kitchen. They all followed him, even James on his broomstick. "Did you send Rose and Hugo along already?"

"They went ahead with Charlie," Ron replied. "We'd have gone, too, but we reckoned you might like a hand with this lot."

"Yeah, well, maybe the International Portkey will calm them down a bit," Harry remarked. "James! Al! Get down from there, will you? We're off in…" He paused to check his watch, but realized it wasn't there. Lily, seemingly exhausted with her crying, had torn it from his wrist in a fit of anguish and was now shaking it insistently.

"We're off in ten minutes," Hermione informed him, using her wand to immobilize James' broom while Ron took Lily from Harry. For some reason, a stern word or two from her favorite uncle had more of an effect on her behavior than even the promise of ice cream.

As Hermione lifted Al from James' grip safely to the ground, Harry leaned back against the kitchen table and sighed. "I don't give a dragon's snout about the match," he declared. "I just want my wife back."

Hermione smiled sympathetically, but Ron laughed. "Nice try, mate, but I know how much you want to see Krum get his trophy." Ron reached over to grip his shoulder. "I won't even hold it against you, how's that?"

"As if you didn't want to see him win, too. You just won't admit it," Harry retorted, and Ron shrugged.

"Ginny said Skeeter's going to be there. Gotta keep up appearances, y'know, give her a scandal. Otherwise she'll create something twice as bad." Ron tapped his head knowingly, and Lily giggled, the trauma of being denied a biscuit seemingly forgotten.

"Why she considers us celebrities, I'll never know," Hermione added, patting Al on the head as he dragged his knapsack toward the pile of luggage at the foot of the kitchen table. "We live rather unglamorous lives."

"And thank Merlin for it," Harry concurred. The three of them chortled and shared a knowing smile. Twenty years since the first time they'd gone to the Cup, and now they were taking their children.

So much had changed, Harry thought, his grin widening as he watched his best mates talk to his children, Ron reaching for Hermione's hand with his free one - but the most important things, thankfully, would remain ever the same.

Anonymous: Drabble idea thingy - Ron casts the patronus charm and finds out it has become an otter like hermiones

"They always forget to add the 'Weasley' onto my name, don't they?" Hermione clucked her tongue as she folded up the Daily Prophet, the morning edition of which had featured the transcript of Rita Skeeter's "Quidditch" commentary from the weekend before.

"Not surprising, really, seeing as you don't use it at work," Ron reminded her, approaching the table with two cups of tea. The children were sleeping in this morning, still exhausted from their transcontinental trip, and the couple was enjoying a rare hour to themselves.

"Well, no, not officially," Hermione acknowledged. "Perhaps I should have hyphenated it?"

"I dunno, I think it's kind of funny how you just tacked it on at the end," Ron mused. "It's like 'I'm Hermione Granger…Weasley.' Like it's an afterthought."

Hermione frowned. "It's not an afterthought-"

"Okay, that's not the right word," Ron admitted. "But I dunno, it's like…you're still you, like you've always been, but you've got a family now, too, and it's ours."

"Well, I like it, too," Hermione replied. "I can go by 'Granger' at the Ministry, and the kids' friends can call me 'Mrs. Weasley' at home. The press just seems to forget the 'Weasley' part of it."

Ron shrugged. "Ah, well, they know we're married, and you'll still be known by your parents' name like you wanted. I think it's brilliant, always have. Besides, I've never been able to decide if 'Hermione Granger' or 'Hermione Weasley' has a better ring to it."

"I know, but I'm just waiting for the day that cow uses it to stir something up." Hermione sighed as she stood from the table. "I suppose I ought to drag Rosie and Hugo out of bed so we can get into work on time."

"Oh, we're not going to work today," Ron remarked conversationally as he took another sip of his tea.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"Don't worry, I cleared it with your supervisor ages ago," Ron explained. "Figured we could use a day to relax after the long weekend, so we're having a picnic with Harry, Ginny, and the kids in a couple of hours."

After a brief period of uncharacteristic speechlessness, Hermione crossed to where he was seated in two steps and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth. "Have I ever mentioned that I rather fancy you?"

"Once or twice," Ron quipped, grinning. "Think we can be ready to leave by ten? I told Harry I'd send word on the timing."

Hermione glanced at the clock, biting her lip. "Yes, tell him ten, please. Then we can let the rascals sleep another hour."

"The less they fuss this morning, the better," Ron agreed, drawing his wand and closing his eyes a moment before muttering the incantation. As Hermione watched, her eyes wide, a silvery otter shot from the end of his wand. But if this alarmed Ron in the slightest, he didn't show it; he simply instructed the creature to deliver their message to Harry.

"Erm…when did that change?" Hermione asked, rather breathlessly.

"When did…oh, my patronus?" Ron shrugged. "I dunno, it only happens some of the time."

"Why?" Hermione asked, taking her seat again. "Do you suppose it's because…"

"Yours is an otter? Well, yeah," Ron replied, chuckling. "Obviously."

Hermione leaned back in her seat, her eyes still wide as a smile began to form on her lips. "What memory did you use?"

"This time it was our wedding," Ron said thoughtfully, "but it's happened before when I've thought about the kids being born, or the four of us together."

"That's sweet," Hermione giggled. "I quite liked your terrier, though."

"Ah, he still makes appearances, too," Ron assured her with a cheeky grin. "Hey, it's kind of like your name, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is," Hermione remarked, reaching across the table to take her husband's offered hand. "Like we're both ourselves, but we're also each other's."

"Right you are, as ever." Ron raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "Have I ever mentioned that I'm rather glad I married you?"

"Once or twice," Hermione replied, and her bright smile was, as ever, the perfect match for his.

Anonymous: Drabble request! A few days after the war. Ron and Harry watch Hermione and Ginny dance together to 'magic dance' by David Bowie. Seeing his girlfriend and his sister laughing and having fun for the first time after the war makes Ron happy. Thank you :)

"What do you reckon they're doing?" Harry nudged Ron as they watched Hermione and Ginny…well, it was probably supposed to be dancing, wasn't it?

"Who sings this?" Ron asked in return. "A muggle, male version of Celestina Warbeck?"

"Something like that," Harry replied with a chuckle, applauding enthusiastically as Ginny tripped over her own feet while trying to spin in a circle. Hermione tugged her friend's hand as she giggled, and the two spun around together instead, singing at the top of their lungs.

"Give Hermione a Firewhiskey…" Ron remarked, raising an eyebrow and laughing.

Harry raised both hands in innocence as the girls collapsed on the floor in a heap of giggles, Hermione nearly kicking Ginny in the face as they fell. "Not my idea. Not to mention – your girlfriend, your responsibility."

"You know Hermione would have my bits or worse if she heard me call her 'my responsibility,'" Ron reminded Harry, who nodded in acknowledgement.

"The two of you'll be alright," Harry remarked, leaning back and yawning before drinking from his own glass of Firewhiskey.

"You don't say?" Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, now that the Chosen One has approved it-"

"Oh, bugger off."

"No, seriously, we've been waiting for your blessing."

"That's what I get for trying to show my love and support, eh?" Harry asked in a resigned tone.

"Who're you supporting?" Hermione had traipsed over to them and arranged herself daintily on Ron's lap.

"The Cannons," Ron declared triumphantly.

"Not bloody likely," Ginny chipped in, sitting on the floor in front of Harry and leaning back against his legs. "Tell me, Ron, when was the last time they actually won a game?"

"It was only two years ago, I'll have you know!" Ron retorted.

"Practically another lifetime, isn't it?" Harry remarked with a smirk, though really, they all knew it to be true.

"Well, I'm sure they'll win again soon," Hermione said disinterestedly. Ron kissed her affectionately on the cheek; he'd probably never admit it, but it was rather cute when she pretended to care about Quidditch.

"Oi! Gross!" Ginny protested, but she was smiling as she reached back to thread Harry's fingers through her own.

"Y'know, Harry," Ron remarked as they laughed, "I reckon you're spot on. We'll be alright, all of us will."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, squeezing Ginny's hand as Hermione laid her head on Ron's shoulder. "Yeah, I reckon we will be."

Anonymous: Prompt of Ron taking Rose and Hugo to meet Krum at World Cup ( maybe ironically Rose having a crush on Krum)

"Daddy!" Rose squealed as Ron entered the tent with breakfast. "Daddy, Mummy said you can take us to meet Viktor Krum!"

"Did she, now?" Ron glanced at his wife, who merely sipped her tea innocently as she read the morning paper, the front page of which bore an image of Krum himself catching the Snitch the night before.

"She did, she did!" Hugo proclaimed earnestly while Rose nodded, jumping up and down.

"You know, your mum knows him better than I do…"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that's true," Hermione remarked. "You're the one that's got his autograph."

Ron raised an eyebrow, but Hermione just smirked. "Why don't you come with?" he asked.

"We already offered our congratulations; there's no sense in crowding him. Besides, I want to finish reading the paper and my reports before we have to head back," Hermione replied.

"You don't want to crowd him, but you want me to take this lot?" Ron gestured toward their children, who had begun to spin about enthusiastically.

"Please, Ron?" Hermione implored.

"Yeah, please Daddy?" Rose screeched. "Viktor Krum is sooo handsome, and strong, and he caught the SNITCH!"

Ron scowled. "Runs in the family, does it?"

"Not quite, dear," Hermione said, rising to her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Of course," he murmured, hugging her with one arm. "Alright, you lot, get dressed. We're going to meet Krum."

"YIPPEE!" Rose and Hugo nearly bonked into each other as they ran to their respective beds to get ready to meet the hero of the Cup.

"You may owe me for this," Ron muttered to Hermione, who nodded in agreement as Rose ran straight into a wall in her effort to get to the bathroom.

"I'll get them to bed the next time we have ice cream after dinner," Hermione offered.

Ron chuckled his agreement and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll see you in a bit, then."

Ron nearly had to jog to keep up with his children as they dashed through the barely stirring Bulgarian camp. Luckily for them, Viktor was already awake, and not too exhausted from the previous night's festivities. He graciously invited them in, signing autographs for the children and even helping Rose to her feet when she nearly fainted.

"You and Herm-own-ninny have beautiful children, Ronald," Viktor remarked as Rose and Hugo compared their memorabilia, giggling madly. "Where is she this morning?"

"Reading, as ever," Ron replied, and both men chuckled. "Now that the match is over, she's back in work mode."

"I have heard rumors that she may want to become your Minister for Magic someday," Viktor said. "She would be very capable."

"Yeah, of course," Ron agreed. "She'd be good at anything she wanted; even Quidditch, I reckon, if she worked at it long enough. But I dunno that she wants to be Minister, even if she'd be the best we've had in ages, other than Kingsley. She's not a fan of the politics of it."

"Well, if anyone could change it, it's her," Viktor replied. "And you and Harry. The three of you are remarkable; I have always thought as much."

"Well, thanks," Ron said, blushing against his will. "And hey, well done again on the match. You can retire in peace now, eh?"

"Yes, I'm hoping to have children of my own soon," Viktor remarked, his eyes twinkling as he watched Rose and Hugo talking excitedly. "I just have to get the courage to ask the woman I love to marry me. I was going to yesterday, but-"

"Can I give you a bit of advice?" Ron cut in. "Just do it. Don't overthink it. I proposed to Hermione in a puddle outside of a hospital, and she still cried before she said yes. I did, too. So just…go for it, talk to her from the heart. If she loves you too, she'll listen."

Viktor nodded with determination in his eyes. "You're a wise man, Ronald Weasley."

"Took me long enough to get here; you'd hope I learned something," Ron joked. "Thanks again; the kids loved meeting you."

"I loved meeting them," Viktor replied. "And thanks to you, Ronald. Until next time."

Ron nodded. "Rosie, Hugh, can you thank Mr. Krum?"

They did (Rose with the hint of tears in her eyes), and Ron shook Viktor's hand before they left. The man wasn't half bad, he decided, not that he'd mention it to anyone…except Hermione, of course. She had a way of getting these things out of him, not that he minded. That's what being married was about, anyway.

As Rose and Hugo ran just ahead of him, only a bit slower than they'd gone on the way, Ron grinned as he thought of Hermione and the morning (the lifetime, really) that lay ahead of them to spend with each other and their children. And to be honest, if this was the kind of happiness he'd got from following his heart, he could only wish the same for anyone - including Viktor Krum.

A/N: Thanks for reading! :)