A/N: I got the idea for the first bit of this while swimming and couldn't help but write it immediately. Then it escalated a bit. So, here's some family-oriented fluff with no coherent plot, because I can. :) Enjoy if you're in the mood for something that will hopefully make you smile!

Also, I have recently read The Casual Vacancy and it was brilliant. If you've read it, please feel free to message me because I am itching to talk about it.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is my hero and I am just the damsel in distress.

Ron yawned and stretched contentedly as he padded out of master bathroom back into his and Hermione's bedroom. He was not surprised that she was nowhere to be found; in fact, the smell of bacon wafting from downstairs suggested she had already started breakfast. A grin spreading across his face, Ron took his time looking through the wardrobe for a clean t-shirt and trousers. Merlin, how he loved Saturdays.

After finally settling on something comfortable but publicly acceptable, as they were going to Diagon Alley for the kids' school supplies later in the day, Ron trekked down the stairs toward the delightful aromas coming from the kitchen. He smiled to himself when he entered the room to find his wife arranging healthy portions of bacon and eggs onto four plates.

"Morning, love," he greeted her happily, hugging her around the waist with one arm and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Didn't we already say good morning?" she teased, turning to face him with a twinkle in her eye. It was true - she had given him a rather pleasant wake-up call earlier.

"S'pose so," Ron said mischieviously, giving her waist a squeeze. "Are the kids up?"

"Rose is in the dining room," Hermione replied, handing him two of the plates to carry. "I've called Hugo a few times now; he shouldn't be much longer."

"The boy sleeps like a rock," Ron commented with a chuckle.

"Yes, he takes after you that way," Hermione said, levitating the remaining plates and heading toward the door to the dining room. "When you were his age, anyway."

"Morning, Rosie!" Ron greeted the sleepy-looking sixteen year old as they made their way to the table with the plates.

"Morning, Dad," she yawned in reply. "Have any owls come today?"

"I don't think so," Ron answered bemusedly as Hermione excused herself to give waking Hugo another go. "Why?"

"I'm expecting something from Amy," Rose replied vaguely.

"Right," Ron said, tucking in to his breakfast. "Ready for Diagon Alley today?"

"Yeah, I've got the lists and all," Rose said hesitantly. "But I was going to ask, Dad, if you and Mum would consider putting up half the cost for a new broom?"

"Didn't we just get you a broom two years ago?" Ron asked, frowning slightly.

"Well, yes," Rose reasoned. "But think of it, Dad, it's James and Lucy's last year. It's the last time the Gryffindor team'll be just Weasleys and Potters!"

"And that means you need a new broom why?" Ron insisted, though he had already a good idea of what the answer would be.

"Well we've got to win the cup, haven't we?" Rose declared, as though it were obvious.

"Of course you have, and you'll do it on your fourth edition Firebolt," Ron replied, taking an extra large bite of bacon as though to somehow emphasize his point.

"But Dad, I've got half the money for the new model myself!" Rose whined. "It could be my birthday present!"

Ron's interest piqued a bit, but he made a point of sighing reluctantly to keep up appearances. "How much have you got, exactly?"

"Two hundred galleons," Rose said proudly.

Ron nearly spit out his food. "Where the hell did you get that kind of money?" he demanded.

"Helping Uncle George at the shop," Rose replied innocently. "You know I've been working there a few days a week this summer."

"And so he decided to essentially give you a down payment on a racing broom?" Ron asked incredulously, thinking vaguely of how unfair it was that his brother clearly paid his daughter more than he'd ever paid him.

"I'm a good employee," Rose defended. "Anyway, I was thinking, if I could have the new broom, then Hugo could have my old one! His old Nimbus is on its last leg anyway, and then everyone on the team will have some sort of Firebolt, and our chances at the cup will go up exponentially! I've been working with James and Al on strategy already, and-"

"I'll talk to your mother," Ron cut in, "but I'm not making any promises."

"Really? Oh, thank you!" Rose beamed.

"Yeah, well, you best be thankful," Ron scolded, shaking his fork at her. "When I was your age, I had to get by on a Cleansweep, and we still won the cup twice in a row."

"Only because you were the greatest Keeper in Gryffindor history, of course," Rose said knowingly, and Ron chuckled at her blatant attempts to suck up.

They were interrupted then by Rose's owl, Phoebe, who dropped a small parcel on the table in front of her. A grin spread across her face as she opened it eagerly and examined the contents, but Ron was not amused.

"Is that Witch Weekly? You actually read that rubbish?" he asked skeptically. He'd always known his daughter to be clever and sensible - she was a lot like Hermione, after all. She was a Prefect and got very good marks, though she admittedly wasn't as studious as her mother had been. Still, she'd never been the type to gossip.

"I'm not a subscriber. I just wanted a copy of this one," Rose replied absentmindedly as she flipped through the pages rapidly, her smile growing as she stopped on one in particular.

Ron craned his neck, curious to see what had so captured his daughter's attention. He could make out a male figure, seemingly clad in the Quidditch uniform of a team he didn't quite recognize. "That bloke looks familiar," he remarked. "Does he play somewhere in England?"

"Bulgaria," Rose said off-handedly, staring dreamily at the picture.

Ron couldn't help it - he laughed out loud.

"It's not funny!" Rose protested. "He's a talented player, that's all!"

"Right," Ron replied, still laughing. "Quite fit, isn't he?"

Rose's cheeks darkened immediately. "Shut up!" she protested as Ron doubled over, completely unable to contain his amusement.

"It's not you," he explained through peals of laughter. "It's just…Bulgaria."

"What's funny about Bulgaria?" Rose snapped. "I hear it's a lovely country, and there's nothing wrong with being cultured!"

"You sound like your mother," Ron said, shaking his head. "Ever heard of Viktor Krum, Rosie?"

"Of course," Rose answered, frowning in confusion. "Caught the Snitch in the '94 World Cup, but his team still lost. Why?"

"You know your mum used to snog him? Til she dumped him for me, that is," Ron remarked, still shaking his head in amusement.

"What?" Rose asked incredulously, her eyes growing comically as she tried to process what she'd just been told. Just then, Hermione came back into the room to take her seat at the table. "Mum, you went out with Viktor Krum?"

"A very long time ago, yes," Hermione said slowly, clearly taken aback by the question. "He was the first boy I kissed, actually. Why do you ask?"

"You snogged Viktor Krum?" Rose repeated, her jaw dropping open at the confirmation that Ron hadn't simply been taking the piss.

"Then dumped him," Ron was quick to repeat. "I'm the better kisser, you see."

Rose ignored him. "I can't believe this," she said, leaning back in her seat and looking between her parents, an astonished expression upon her face.

"What brought this about?" Hermione asked curiously, turning her gaze to Ron.

"Rose has got a crush on a Bulgarian Quidditch player," Ron said with a laugh. "She's just like you, see?"

"Oh, hush," Hermione scolded, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

"I didn't know you ever dated other people," Rose said, still glancing from Ron to Hermione with a million unasked questions dancing in her eyes. "You've always said you fell in love at Hogwarts."

"Well, yes, but your father and I didn't start going out until the war was over," Hermione replied. "It took us awhile to get things going."

"We had to grow up a bit first, you see," Ron said wisely.

"Who was your first kiss then, Dad?" Rose asked, looking positively torn between the desire to know and the desire to pretend this conversation had never happened.

"Lavender Brown. Too much tongue," Ron declared emphatically.

"Oh, gross!" Rose groaned, her expression quickly shifting from interested to regretful.

Hermione tutted. "It was rather disgusting. Thankfully you'd refined your technique by the time I got to you."

"Only because I was finally kissing somebody who was good at it," Ron said with a wink and what he thought was a winning smile.

Rose groaned louder and laid her head in her arms. "I didn't want details!" she shrieked.

Ron chuckled, but Hermione apologized immediately. "We're done now, dear."

"You are so embarrassing," Rose moaned as she lifted her head and began to pick at her food again. "Honestly, can't you just…I dunno, be normal and tolerate each other in a weird, passive-aggressive way?"

"It's only been what, nineteen years?" Ron asked Hermione, who nodded. "We've still got awhile before we can't stand each other."

"Your father only does it because he knows it embarrasses you," Hermione explained to Rose.

"And because I love you," Ron added. "And you," he said, turning to grin at Hermione again, who mirrored his expression with a pretty smile of her own.

"Gross," Rose muttered under her breath as she took another bite.

A moment later, Hugo came wandering in to the dining room, looking as though he was still half-asleep as he rubbed at his unruly auburn hair.

"Morning, Hugh!" Ron said brightly. "You didn't give your mum too much trouble waking up, did you?"

Hugo only shot him an exasperated look before he began to eat his helping of bacon, leaving the eggs untouched. "Do you mind if I meet Mark and Maggie for ice cream while we're in town today?" he asked his parents between bites.

"Not at all," Hermione said kindly. The Laven twins were in Hugo's year at school, and Hermione worked with their mother from time to time on international cases. The two families got on very well, though the elder brother, Matthew, reminded Ron a bit of Percy in his Head Boy phase.

"I'm done," Rose said abruptly, standing from the table with her plate in one hand and the magazine in the other. "When are we leaving?"

"In an hour," Hermione called after her as the door to the kitchen closed. "You know, she'd probably have stayed down here a bit longer if you hadn't teased her," she told Ron in an undertone a moment later.

"Rose wants the fifth Firebolt," Ron interrupted. "Says she's saved two hundred galleons working at George's."

"Two hundred?" Hermione asked disbelievingly. "How much as he been paying her?"

"Dunno. I'm going to be having a chat with him," Ron said. "Honestly, no sixteen-year-old needs that kind of money."

"Are you going to get it for her?" Hugo asked interestedly.

"You just want her current broom," Ron dismissed.

"How much would we have to put up for it?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"About half," Ron replied. "It is her seventeenth coming up."

"You're considering it, then?" Hermione asked, though it was more like a statement.

"Only if you're alright with it," Ron said carefully, though they both knew he didn't like saying no to their children. "It's not like we haven't got the money."

It was true; since Hermione had recently risen to head of the DMLE's legal division, and Ron was second in the Auror department only to Harry, their salaries had increased far beyond what they needed to get by, especially now that the children were nearly grown.

"If that's all she wants for her birthday, then I suppose we can," Hermione said slowly. "Provided she's paying the other half, of course. And I swear, this is the last broom we're buying for her. If she wants to go on after Hogwarts, it's on her own galleon."

Hugo pumped his fist in triumph across the table. "I get her Firebolt, then!" he cried jubilantly. "We'll win the cup for sure!"

"It's the last year it'll be all Weasleys and Potters on the team," Ron explained to Hermione.

"We'll have to go for all the games this year, then," Hermione said pleasantly. "Get dressed, Hugo. Your friends won't want to eat ice cream with you if you're wandering around Diagon Alley with morning breath and your pyjamas on."

Hugo scowled momentarily before taking his plate and leaving the room, his eggs still barely touched.

"Thanks for breakfast, love," Ron said once they were alone.

"Of course," Hermione replied, "but it's your turn to cook tomorrow."

Ron groaned. "I'm not good at making breakfast, you know. I should really just stick to dinner."

"Well, we've always got cereal," Hermione teased. "So, Rose has got a crush on a Quidditch player?"

"She says she 'admires his playing,'" Ron said, waggling his eyebrows a bit. "Better than her bringing home an actual boyfriend, don't you think?"

Hermione snorted. "You do realize it won't be much longer, don't you?"

"I'm content to live in ignorance for the time being," Ron quipped.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And the time she went out with that Stephen boy?"

"Well, he seemed like a tosser," Ron dismissed. "Our Rosie's smart, got away soon as she could."

"You know she's been writing to Robert Phillips this summer?" Hermione asked casually, standing and stacking their empty plates.

"Yeah, but they've been friends for ages," Ron replied dismissively.

"So were we," Hermione said, her eyes twinkling again.

Ron sighed heavily. "Least we know Robert's smart. He won't be getting them into trouble."

"Stephen was a Ravenclaw," Hermione pointed out, but Ron pretended not to hear her as he took the plates from her and carried them into the kitchen, setting them to clean themselves magically in the sink.

"Since when are we old enough to have a seventeen-year-old, anyhow?" Ron asked, turning round to face his smiling wife.

"Well, we are in our forties now," Hermione said seriously. "I'm afraid there'll be more gray hairs than we can count before too long."

"Well, that I don't mind as much, so long as we don't become passive-aggressive arseholes," Ron remarked, reaching an arm out toward her.

Hermione stepped into his embrace and sighed contentedly. "To the best of my memory, you are a better kisser than Viktor was, you know."

"Yeah?" Ron smirked.

"Yes, he scowled far too often to do much else with his mouth."

Ron threw his head back in laughter and tightened his grip around her waist. Nineteen years later and he loved her even more than the day he married her, and moments like this reminded him of why that was.

"You're in a good mood this morning," Hermione observed, lifting her head from his chest to look at him.

"S'pose so," Ron said thoughtfully, searching his thoughts for a reason why. Being woken up by Hermione's lips on his neck had certainly set things on the right track, but there was no particular explanation for his happiness - though he saw no reason to question it, either.

"Good," Hermione replied, bouncing up on to her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "It'll be nice to have a day to be together as a family."

"Yeah," Ron said distractedly before leaning in to kiss her softly on the mouth. No matter how many times they'd kissed, it never failed to make him feel the same way he did when he was flying - as though he was soaring high above the earth, where nothing could dare to touch him or bring him down.

She seemed content to kiss him back for awhile - probably since there were no kids around, he reckoned. By the time they broke apart, Ron was quite certain his good mood would last the rest of the day.

"Fucking hell, you're amazing," Ron breathed, pulling her back in for another hug.

Hermione giggled a little, in a way she only did when they were alone. "So are you, though it's no wonder Rose thinks we're embarrassing."

"I think she's exaggerating," Ron admitted. "Course, I never like to think about my parents being a couple, but still…it's sort of nice to know they still love each other."

"Well, yes," Hermione agreed. "But she won't thank us for it yet."

Ron chortled. "Well no, they don't thank us for anything yet. I suppose we were the same."

"We were a bit preoccupied to do the unjustified angst thing properly, though," Hermione reasoned.

"Fair point," Ron acknowledged sagely, rubbing the small of her back as he spoke. "Are you still sore here?"

"A bit," Hermione admitted. "I've got one of those support cushions set up in my chair at work now, though, and that's helped."

"Working shorter hours would help, too," Ron pointed out carefully, knowing this was a touchy spot for her.

"Yes, well, once I've got somebody I trust in the second rung that'll get easier," Hermione said briskly. "We're filling Anderson's position next month."

"So he did resign?"

"Mhm," Hermione sighed as Ron continued to massage her lower back.

"About time," Ron remarked. "Did someone finally tell the old bat it's the twenty-first century?"

Hermione snorted. "He claims he's going travelling, but I think he's just finally got sick of me."

"I hope he winds up stranded someplace in Russia, then," Ron said sincerely.

"Why Russia?"

"I dunno. Big, easy to get lost."

Hermione was visibly determined to keep a straight face - she seemed torn between amusement and the desire to scold him. Eventually, the former won out, and they ended up laughing uncontrollably for a few blissful moments.

"Really?" Hugo announced his presence in the kitchen with an exasperated sigh.

"What?" Ron asked defensively as he and Hermione stepped apart, though he kept an arm around her waist. "I'm just hugging my wife, Hugh, you'll do it someday too."

"I know," Hugo replied shortly. "Anyway, I've only come to ask if either of you knows where my blue shirt has got to."

"Your nice one?" Hermione asked confusedly. "What do you need that for?"

"I wanted to wear it today," Hugo answered, with just the amount of forced nonchalance that made Ron sure it was an act. The blush spreading across his cheeks didn't help his masquerade, either.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but had the tact not to question him. "I think I washed it with your father's work shirts the other day, but it ought to be in your room. I put it straight in your wardrobe; have you checked there?"

Hugo shook his head bashfully and practically ran from the room.

"His blue shirt?" Hermione questioned.

"Bit on the dressy side for Diagon Alley," Ron remarked.

"Maybe there's a girl," Hermione suggested with a smirk. "Though if he's like you in that area too, nothing will happen for another two or three years, will it?"

Ron pulled a face at her, but she was quick to kiss it away. "Let's get ready, shall we?" she suggested when she pulled away.

Just under an hour later, the four Weasleys found themselves Flooing to the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron. Ron went last, and when he emerged from the fireplace, still coughing uncomfortably even after forty years of using Floo, they set off onto the main street. After a brief visit to Gringotts to withdraw a sizeable number of galleons, during which a few choice goblins still felt the need to give Ron and Hermione dirty looks despite the pardon they'd been granted nearly twenty-five years previously, they were ready.

"Flourish and Blotts first," Hermione said briskly.

"Only because you've got a list of your own," Ron teased, causing Rose and Hugo to laugh.

He was right; after nearly an hour in the shop, Hermione had just as many books as either of the children. Immediately after they left, Rose began dragging Ron in the direction of Quality Quidditch Supplies, and they parted with Hermione and Hugo, who were content to purchase the rest of the school supplies. As much as Hugo enjoyed playing Quidditch, he wasn't quite as much of a fanatic as Rose was.

"There it is, Dad, there it is!" Rose said excitedly, pointing toward the flashy broomstick prominently displayed in the middle of the shop. "See, four hundred galleons!"

"You aren't asking us for anything again, as long as you live, you got that?" Ron told her half-heartedly, but she wasn't listening. Sighing a little, Ron set off in search of the nearest salesman. Luckily, he ran into Seamus Finnigan after only a moment's search.

"Ron Weasley! Good to see you, good to see you!" Seamus beamed, shaking his hand heartily. "How are Hermione and the kids?"

"They're doing well. How's Layla?" Ron asked, hoping he'd got Seamus' wife's name correct.

"She's well, off at her mum's with Brian. I'm headed out there soon as I get off," Seamus said happily. "What can I do for ya?"

"It seems I've been roped into buying the fifth Firebolt," Ron replied, gesturing toward Rose, who was still staring at the broom with far more admiration than she generally had for anything or anyone, even the fit Bulgarian Quidditch player. "The things we do for our kids, y'know?"

Seamus roared with laughter. "Tell me about it, mate. Brian's barely seven and we're already spoiling him within an inch of his life. The fifth Firebolt, then? The Potters were in here looking at it the other day."

"Doesn't surprise me," Ron said with a chuckle. "I don't suppose Harry let them have it?"

"Nope," Seamus said. "I'm a bit surprised you've caved, to be honest."

"Rosie over there's promised to pay for half of it," Ron replied. "She's been working with George this summer, and it seems he's been a bit generous."

Seamus laughed good-naturedly. "Good man, George. I seem him round from time to time. Is he in today?"

"They're on holiday in France for a week," Ron said, gesturing for Rose to join them. "Rosie, Mr. Finnigan can get us that broom you've got to have."

"Are you as good as your dad was in his day?" Seamus asked Rose as they made their way to the counter.

"Dunno. I play Chaser like Aunt Ginny did," Rose replied, still looking her shoulder at the broom every few seconds.

"Think you'll go professional?" Seamus asked, collecting Rose's money bag and most of the galleons left in Ron's.

"Oh, I don't know if I'm that good," Rose blushed.

"Sure you are, you're just as good as Ginny was," Ron said immediately. "But she's smart too, you see. Can do anything she wants, my Rosie."

"That's how we know she's Hermione's daughter, then," Seamus laughed. "Alright, seems you've got the four hundred. I'll just pop in the back to get you your broom."

Rose hopped up and down in excitement as she thanked Seamus and Ron profusely.

"You'll look great on the pitch if any scouts show up," Ron remarked as they waited. "Really though, not to channel your mum too much, but - have you thought much about what you'd like to do after school?" As confident as he was in Rose's abilities, the truth of the matter was that professional Quidditch offered no guarantees.

"Not really," Rose admitted. "I figure I could always work for the Ministry if playing professionally doesn't work out, maybe in the Department of Games and Sports."

"They'd love to have you, I'm sure," Ron encouraged. "Then you could see me and your mum on your lunch breaks."

Rose pulled a face. "Because I don't see enough of you at home, is that it?"

"Well, you might not be living at home by then," Ron pointed out. "And we miss you and Hugh when you're gone, you know."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," Rose quipped, but Ron could see her eyes softening and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned her head against him, and he smiled contently. Sometimes it struck him just how much she was the perfect mix of him and Hermione.

"Here we are," Seamus said, bringing a wrapped parcel out of the back room and presenting it to Rose, who looked positively ecstatic. She practically skipped from the shop as Ron called his goodbyes to Seamus.

"Can I stay at Harry and Ginny's tonight?" Rose asked as they left the shop and headed for Madame Malkin's, where they'd agreed to meet Hermione and Hugo. "I've got so many ideas to talk about with James and Al. Hugh and Lil could help too, actually, then we'd have most of the team there!"

"I don't mind, if it's alright with Harry and Ginny," Ron answered. "I've been meaning to take your mum out sometime soon, anyway."

"Perfect, you can have a date night while we're not around to see it!" Rose beamed.

"What's this about a date night?" came a voice from behind them. Ron and Rose swiveled around to see Hermione. "I see you've got the broom. I just took Hugo to the ice cream place; we finished the shopping a bit early," she explained.

"Rose wants to go to Harry and Ginny's tonight," Ron told her, "to talk Quidditch, so Hugo could go with. We could go out for our anniversary."

"Which was only two months ago," Hermione said with a laugh. "Well, if Harry and Ginny don't mind-"

"I'm sure they don't!" Rose said quickly. "Mind if I go home now and let them know?"

"Alright, but be careful!" Hermione cautioned, though Rose didn't seem to give her a second glance as she raced back to the Leaky. "I do hope she won't try flying to theirs."

"She's not stupid," Ron reasoned with a chuckle. "Though I reckon most of the reason she wants to go is because they're further out from muggles than we are. She'll be able to fly the thing properly out there. I'll be surprised if she waits for Hugo."

"Well, he said he wanted an hour with his friends. Do you mind if we go to look at quills? I've been needing a new one for awhile," Hermione requested hopefully.

Quite frankly, Ron could think of about a thousand things he would rather do, but nineteen years of marriage to the woman formerly called Hermione Granger had taught him that compromise was always the best option. So, he gave her a smile and took her hand, ready to spend the next hour of his life bored out of his mind.

When at last they emerged from Amanuensis Quills, Hermione carrying a bag stocked with enough quills to last a decade, in Ron's opinion, it was already time to collect Hugo. Ron had not been entirely successful in his resolution not to complain about spending an hour shopping for quills of all things, but he had managed to keep himself in Hermione's good graces, and they'd peacefully decided on a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant just a short car ride from home for their dinner date.

"Oh, there's Hugh," Hermione said as they approached the ice cream shop.

Ron only had to look a second longer before he saw his son, who was sitting very close to the mousy-haired Maggie Laven as they shared a bowl of ice cream. Maggie's twin brother, Mark, was nowhere in sight. It didn't take Ron long to figure out what was going on.

"Maybe we ought to give them another moment, Hermione," he suggested, tugging on her hand and steering her to the other side of the street.

"Why's that?" Hermione asked, frowning. "If we want to make it to the restaurant before the dinner rush-"

"Hermione. He's wearing his blue shirt," Ron cut in, a bit surprised that he had to explain this to her at all. She was generally the one that picked up on these sorts of things.

"Yes, but what's-"

"You said there might be a girl," he reminded her pointedly, and the pieces fell together immediately.

"Maggie?" she stage-whispered excitedly, looking back toward the little table they were sharing outside the ice cream shop. "They are sat quite close together, aren't they? Oh, good, I always liked her!"

"Well, calm down, they're only fourteen," Ron remarked, observing as his son graciously offered Maggie the last bite. "No use planning the wedding quite yet."

"Oh, stop it," Hermione scolded. "I'm not that silly; I just think it's sweet. I didn't realize he liked girls yet!"

"Well, you're the one that washes his bed-sheets," Ron pointed out, earning himself a gentle pinch on the arm.

"Don't be vile. Besides, this is different and you know it," Hermione rolled her eyes. "How long do we ought to give them?"

Ron frowned in concentration as he watched Hugo slide even a little closer to Maggie. His lips were moving, but he was clearly stammering rather than really speaking. Still, Maggie's head was tilting, and Hugo's was moving closer-

"He's going to kiss her!" Hermione shrieked excitedly, but Ron clapped a hand gently over her mouth and spun them around. "Let me go, Ron, I can't see-"

"That's our kid, Hermione, we can't watch that!" Ron exclaimed in disgust.

"Oh, you're just jealous he's managed to get someone to kiss him before his fourth year's even started," Hermione dismissed, wrenching Ron's hand away from her mouth and turning around. "Oh, goodness, they're still-"

"Hermione," Ron protested, dragging her back in front of him so that she would look at him. "Give them a moment."

"Yes, I know," Hermione accepted reluctantly. "But it's sweet, don't you think?"

Ron bit his lip, debating. Eventually, he gave in with an almost involuntary smirk. "Are they really still going at it?"

Hermione bounced up to her tiptoes to look over his shoulder. "They're just pulling back now," she confirmed.

"Damn. Good on him," Ron said with a low whistle. "And she doesn't look like she wants to hit him?"

"No, they're holding hands now; that's so lovely," Hermione said, lowering herself back to her normal height and laying a hand over her heart, sentimental in a way she only was when it related to one of their children. "Oh, that was just the perfect first kiss."

"Better than either of ours were, that's for sure," Ron quipped. "I'm not going to lie; I'm a bit jealous."

Hermione laughed. "Even if we'd kissed each other first, we'd probably have knocked our teeth out."

"We never were very lucky back then," Ron agreed. "Think we've given him long enough?"

"I suppose," Hermione said reluctantly. "I don't want to interrupt."

"They'll be back to school in a couple of weeks. Surely Romeo can last til then," Ron said sarcastically, taking Hermione's hand again and crossing back to the other side of the street.

"Actually, Romeo and Juliet could hardly last three days before they killed themselves out of supposed love for each other," Hermione replied matter-of-factly.

"Fantastic," Ron deadpanned. "Oi, Hugo!"

Hugo turned toward the sound of his father's voice, his face so red Ron might have thought he was sunburned. Maggie nearly jumped out of her seat as she dropped Hugo's hand and stammered a greeting.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Maggie said, her expression of feigned innocence enough to make Ron have to stifle a grin.

"Hello, Maggie," Hermione said kindly.

"Where's Mark today?" Ron couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, he's off buying our schoolbooks with Matthew," Maggie explained, not quite meeting Ron's eyes.

"Where's Rose?" Hugo asked, clearly looking for some sort of distraction.

"She's gone home already," Hermione explained. "She's headed off to Harry and Ginny's tonight. You're welcome to go, as well."

"And you can take her old Firebolt, too. We got her the new broom," Ron added.

Hugo grinned broadly as Maggie said, "Oh, that's wonderful! You'll be made Keeper for sure!"

"You're trying out for Keeper this year?" Ron asked excitedly. Hugo had spent his last two years on the team as a Beater.

"James has been thinking of switching some of us around this year," Hugo said bashfully, in what was little more than a mumble. "I've always thought I'd like to try Keeping."

Ron beamed proudly. "It's the best position there is, son! Let me tell you, back in my day-"

"Alright, we'll be on our way before they bore you to death," Hermione told Maggie with a smile. Ron knew that, like Hermione, the younger girl had never been terribly interested in Quidditch unless her friends were playing. "Tell your parents we said hello, dear."

"I will," she promised. Then she turned to Hugo and said, with a small smile. "I'll write to you soon, then?"

"Yeah," he said, a bit dazedly. "We can write."

She gave him a quick hug, not much more than what Ron had seen her give him at the train station when they'd left for the holidays, and then was gone. Hugo's face was redder than ever.

"So how's Maggie?" Ron asked as Hugo stood to join his parents. He did his best to keep the teasing edge out of his voice, but he was fairly certain he wasn't entirely successful.

"She's fine," Hugo answered, just a bit too quickly.

"She's a nice girl, you know," Hermione said encouragingly as they made their way back toward the Leaky. "She's so very sweet and polite."

"Yeah, she's nice," Hugo said dismissively. "Are Rose and I leaving straight away?"

"You can if you want to," Ron answered with a sly grin toward Hermione. It was clear that Hugo was not talking about it, but that didn't stop him from asking, with mock sincerity, "But will Maggie's letter reach you if you aren't at home?"

"Oh, stop it," Hermione scolded half-heartedly, laying a protective hand on Hugo's shoulder. "She's lovely, Hugo, absolutely lovely."

"You saw, didn't you?" he asked, a bit dejectedly.

"I'm sure we don't know what you're talking about," Hermione insisted. "But really, dear, if there had been anything to see, your father and I would have supported it wholeheartedly."

"I definitely want to leave straight away," Hugo muttered.

"You said you're going to try for Keeper, Hugh?" Ron asked, sensing that a subject change was in order. They spent the rest of the short walk talking about Quidditch. Ron was happy to share a few tips with his son, something he didn't often get to do - Hugo had dreams of someday becoming a Healer, and Ron admittedly had little to no knowledge of Potions or Herbology to help him in that area.

Almost as soon as they arrived home, Rose had thrown an overnight bag to Hugo and unceremoniously presented him with her old Firebolt as she admired her new one, which was lying unwrapped on the sitting room floor. After Hugo had thrown his things together, they were off, Rose assuring her parents as they went through the fireplace that she had indeed asked Harry and Ginny first. Ron wasn't sure he believed her, but he figured they'd know soon enough - there was a family lunch at the Burrow the following afternoon.

"House to ourselves tonight, then," Ron said casually as he and Hermione walked upstairs to change for their night out.

"It looks that way. What ever will we do to entertain ourselves?" Hermione asked with feigned innocence.

"Read one of the six dozen books you bought, I reckon," Ron teased, stripping off his t-shirt immediately upon reaching the bedroom and searching through a stack of shirts he normally wore to work under his robes. "What exactly did you buy, anyhow?"

"Oh, the usual - case law studies and what not. And there's been a new book out about transfigurative theory; it sounds quite fascinating, really, several chapters on animal transformations," Hermione explained from across the room, where Ron could hear her redressing.

"Sounds gripping," Ron deadpanned.

"Yes, well, it could have huge implications on the way we assess Animagi," Hermione continued excitedly. "You might find bits of it interesting too, actually; there's a section on concealment and stealth, could be quite useful as far as strategy goes."

Ron's interest piqued somewhat. "Bookmark the good bits for me, would you?"

Hermione laughed kindly. "Of course. I couldn't expect you to read the entire book now, could I?"

"I read," Ron shot back defensively, though there was no real anger in his voice.

"Yes, just not books about transfiguration," Hermione replied. "I'm going to give my hair another go, and then we can head out."

Ron finished buttoning the dress shirt he'd chosen and turned round to face her. She had put on the green sundress that made her tits look perkier than they really were and, much to Ron's chagrin, covered her bare arms with a black cardigan.

"You look great already," Ron said with a warm smile as she adjusted the plait she'd arranged her hair in that morning.

"Okay," Hermione agreed, leaning closer to the mirror to examine her face. "You don't see any wrinkles, do you?"

"No more than I've got, anyway," Ron replied. "Let's go, love, we haven't had a proper meal since breakfast."

A minute later, they found themselves in the car on the way to the muggle restaurant. Hermione had reluctantly let Ron drive. He was really quite good at it now, but she still preferred to do it herself. However, he managed to get them to the restaurant with no incidents of any kind, and they found that they had arrived early enough to be seated immediately.

The waiter knew them from the many times they'd frequented the place over the years and was happy to serve them, so their food came quickly and tasted delicious. They talked about work as they ate; they'd been collaborating a bit on one particular case for the past month or so, and Hermione was just about to take it to trial.

By the time they'd finished their food and Ron had driven them back home, they were quite sick of talking for the time being. Instead, Ron focused on stripping Hermione of the "magic-tits dress," as he called it, and she seemed quite happy to comply.

If kissing was just as great as it had always been, making love had got even better. It was true that it had become more infrequent as the years had gone by, but Ron had quickly learned to value quality over quantity when it came to this aspect of his marriage. He prided himself on the fact that it never got old with them; it was always just as exciting as it had been the first time - only now, they actually had a clue what they were doing.

The kids being gone meant they didn't need to bother redressing afterward, which was another plus. Though it had been years since either Rose or Hugo had burst into their bedroom unannounced, neither Ron nor Hermione particularly felt comfortable sleeping naked while their children were in the house. Tonight, however, they simply curled up together beneath the duvet, continuing to savor the intimacy of their skin-to-skin contact.

"We're good at being married," Ron murmured to Hermione once they'd arranged themselves into a comfortable position, her back pressed up against his chest and one of his arms wrapped around her stomach.

"Perhaps we ought to get a reward," Hermione replied, twisting a little to face him with a smirk on her face.

"Already have," Ron replied sincerely, leaning in to kiss her. His lips ended up somewhere between her nose and her right eye, and she once again produced one of those giggles that only he ever heard.

"That was terribly cheesy," Hermione teased. "Not that I'm surprised, you've been in that sort of a mood all day."

That was true. From time to time Ron was struck, more so than usual, by just how good he had it, and today had been one of those days. He supposed he needed those sort of days to get by, in some ways. There wasn't an hour of his life that went by that he didn't thank the powers that be, whatever they were, for his family, but days like today were the type that stood out from the rest and made the more mundane ones worthwhile.

He was suddenly hit with the urge to thank Hermione - for what, he wasn't sure, but he knew it all came back to her. Still, he seriously doubted his ability to voice something he himself wasn't quite sure how to understand; so, instead, he picked himself up a bit so he could lean over and kiss her softly once more. "I love you," he murmured against her lips before pulling away.

"I love you," Hermione replied in kind, kissing him one more time before he returned to his previous position. They exchanged a few more sweet nothings and slightly-less-than-innocent caresses before they finally began to drift toward sleep. But before Ron dozed off, he finally realized what he'd been trying to articulate before: he was thankful that he had married his best friend.

But she knew this, and he knew this, and that was why they worked so well - they didn't always need the words. So he simply wrapped his arms around her just a little tighter, and she snuggled into him just a little more. Before he began to dream, Ron took a mental note of yet another beautiful moment in a life he still wasn't entirely sure he deserved. To some, it may be ordinary; but to him, it was perfect.

A/N: So there you have it. No real plot at all and it sort of refused to end, but I'm still rather attached to it. I've also noticed that I end an inordinate amount of my writing with Ron falling asleep thinking about how much he loves Hermione. Sorry not sorry. My mission is not to be a great writer - it is to spread Ron/Hermione joy.

Just as a point of reference for those of you who enjoy my stories - they are all set in the same "universe" as Firsts and Lasts. I am working on a multi-chapter that's set outside of that "universe," but that is quite literally the only exception. I don't know if I've ever explained this officially before so here you go.

I am leaving this story marked as "incomplete" for now - I have a few other one-shot ideas that involve teenage!Rose and teenage!Hugo, and I think I may just put them all here to keep them sort of together. I'm sort of undecided about that though, because they're all a bit different. So anyway…that's why it's incomplete. If it sees another chapter or two, it may not be particularly soon.

I hope you enjoyed this rambling expanse of fluff valley. If I have made you smile at least once then I have done what I set out to do. :)