Team: Holyhead Harpies

Position: Keeper

Prompt: Ron's relationship with Hermione

Word Count: 1428

Parents Evening

Ron's leg bounced as he checked the time on his watch for the dozenth time in as many minutes. Hermione was supposed to have met him at home half an hour before their appointment so they could leave together. It was only after an owl had arrived after he had been waiting five minutes saying that she was running late and would meet him at the school that he had reluctantly left on his own after his mother had arrived to look after the children.

"Mr Weasley, I'm really sorry but I can't put off your appointment any longer," Rose's teacher, Mrs Simpson said, poking her head out of the classroom door.

"Can't you wait five more minutes?" Ron asked. "My wife will be here soon, I know she will. She's just a little delayed at work."

"I appreciate the difficulties of being a working mum; I have two of my own," Mrs Simpson replied sympathetically. "But I've seen all the other parents with appointments. If you'd like we can rearrange for another evening."

Ron cast a glance at the double doors leading onto the corridor hoping that Hermione would come rushing through them hastily, apologising for her lateness. Since her recent promotion at work she had been finding it harder and harder to get away from work at a reasonable hour and, more often than not, Ron found he was giving the children their tea and tucking them into bed at night before she got home. Despite her reassurances that it wouldn't last forever, Ron had his doubts.

"No," Ron finally said as he stood up with Rose's exercise books in hand, "this evening will be fine."

"Great," Mrs Simpson replied, holding the door open so Ron could enter the brightly decorated classroom, still half hoping that Hermione would turn up.

~o~o~o~

As he left the classroom twenty minutes later, Ron's mind was swimming with information and terms he hadn't fully understood. It had started off simply enough with Mrs Simpson praising Rose for how well behaved she was and how great she was doing at school—something Ron didn't need telling since she took after her mother in her intelligence. It was when Mrs Simpson started to talk about the Early Years Foundation Stage and the different areas of development when Ron got a little lost. True to form, Ron hadn't read through the information booklets the school had provided at the start of the school year outlining how their daughter's school structured the education. So to cover this up, he had nodded his head at various points and smiled.

So far as Ron could tell after talking with Mrs Simpson, the only area Rose was struggling in was creative arts and messy play. It would seem that she avoided those areas like the plague and only ventured near them briefly when encouraged. Mrs Simpson had told Ron that perhaps this would be something they could encourage at home and provided some suggestions such as making play dough or doing some experiments—she had recommended a website called pinterest to find something which might interest Rose. As he strode out into the cool night air, Ron couldn't see the point in doing that when magic could achieve exactly the same results without wasting so much time.

After walking a short distance from the school, Ron looked around him to ensure no one was around before pulling his wand out of his pocket and twisting on the spot to apparate back to his house.

~o~o~o~

He found his mother sitting in the living room knitting what he could only assume was one of the many Weasley jumpers in preparation for Christmas the following month.

"How have Rose and Hugo been this evening?" he asked his mother as he joined her on the cream couch.

"An absolute delight as always," she replied, beaming at her youngest son. "Where's Hermione?"

"She had to go back to work—there was an emergency," he lied, not wanting to admit that his wife hadn't been able to make the parents evening appointment. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to voice every negative thought he had racing through his mind, and making it ten time worse. Yes, his mother would understand but she would also be furious that Hermione had prioritised work over her own children.

"Ah, well these things can't be helped," Molly replied. "There's a casserole in the fridge for you and Hermione to share since you probably haven't eaten tonight."

"Thanks, Mum," Ron said, smiling as his mother stood up and embraced him, before leaving their house via the Floo Network.

~o~o~o~

It was half past ten before Hermione finally arrived home. The remaining casserole which Ron had heated up, hoping his wife would arrive home soon, had long since gotten cold.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," she said, removing her coat and hanging it up in the hallway before joining him in the kitchen. "Every time I tried to get away something else came up. It was complete and utter mayhem."

Ron furrowed his eyebrows at his wife. There was little doubt in his mind that she tried her best to make the appointment, but it was getting ridiculous.

He didn't begrudge Hermione having a job at the Ministry, but he hated how demanding it was. He hated that over the last few months he hardly saw his wife, and that he was the sole person responsible for their children—Rose and Hugo had noticed her absence and every night before bed they would ask where their mummy was.

And yet every time he tried to bring it up, the words caught in the back of his throat. He didn't want Hermione to feel bad about things that were beyond her control.

But he had been sitting at the kitchen table silently stewing over Hermione missing what she had called: "One of the few ways they can be involved in their child's education, and both of them should be there."

"Did you?" asked Ron, lifting his head of his hands. "You must not have tried very hard."

"You know that's not true, Ronald," she replied, sitting down across from him. "You know how my new boss can be. She is remarkable but demanding."

"Seems to me like you care more about pleasing your new boss than you do about being there for your own children," Ron snapped, releasing the long held notion that had plagued him ever since her working hours had substantially increased.

"How could you say something like that?" Hermione asked, tears brimming in her chocolate brown eyes. "Rose and Hugo are my world."

"Coming from the mother who barely sees them anymore," Ron snapped, deciding it was time to give Hermione a much needed reality check. "'Your world' have noticed that you're not around a lot. I've lost count of how many bedtimes they ask for you, and I have to tell them you're still at work."

"I—I didn't realise I was working that much," Hermione said sadly, throwing her head in her hands. Her shoulders started shaking as she tried to muffle the sound of her sobs.

Ron rose from his seat and moved around the table. He placed his arm around his wife. "Look, you just need to sort your priorities out, and find a better work-life balance. I understand it will take some time, but our children need to see you more even if it means coming home for an hour before bedtime and then going back to work afterwards until you've found it."

"Look at you being the voice of reason," Hermione said, raising her head and wiping her eyes. "I suppose that could be a solution—unless I get my hands on a time turner."

Ron raised his eyebrows at his wife, shocked that she would even contemplate such a thing after their third year.

"Just kidding," Hermione said, and Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "You are right though. I do need a better work-life balance, and I'll work on it. I promise. I love my job, but I love my family more."

"I know," Ron replied, kissing her on the top of her head.

"So tell me all about parents evening," Hermione said, changing the subject. "How well is rose doing? Are there any areas for concern? Anything more that we could be doing at home?"

Ron grinned and proceeded to tell her everything he could remember from his meeting with Mrs Simpson, occasionally being corrected on his terminology by Hermione—but he wouldn't have it any other way.