For the first time in recent memory, Hermione woke up to light streaming onto her face rather than the blare of an alarm forcing her into consciousness. The refreshing feeling that washed over her, although wonderful, seemed so foreign that she couldn't help but feel that something was terribly wrong. But before she had time to run through all of the worst case scenarios and jump to conclusions, she looked up to find her husband sitting calmly at the foot of the bed.
"Ron, what time is it? What's going on?" she asked cautiously, her voice still riddled with sleep.
"It's almost 10, love."
"10?! Ronald! How could you not wake me? Where's Rose and Hugo? I haven't made their breakfast! Have they even eaten anything yet?!" she spewed out worry after worry while scrambling to escape from the tangle of sheets. But as soon as she had freed herself and was about to dash out of bed, Ron's broad arm shot out and held her in place.
"Nope. I'm afraid I can't let you leave. I'm on strict orders to keep you in the bedroom until I get the signal."
"The signal," Hermione questioned after a long pause, though it came out as more of an incredulous statement.
"Yep, the signal," he replied in matter-of-fact tone, a mischievous smirk creeping up on his face in a way that reminded her of being 11 again.
Some days, it still seemed too good to be true; she kept waiting to wake up and be back in the middle of war. But no, she, Ron, and Harry had somehow all miraculously survived Hell, and her dreams of living in peace and safety had come true. She had a beautiful family with her childhood best friend from Hogwarts all those years ago and two perfect children that weren't far off from their first train ride themselves. She dreaded the day when she would have to watch as the Hogwarts Express disappeared into the distance, and she had to keep reminding herself that she still had a few years to keep her babies all to herself.
"Did you really think I would let our children starve?" Ron joked as Hermione looked up at him sheepishly.
"Of course not, dear. But you know me, always getting worked up about the little things."
Ron hummed in agreement and he leaned over to place a sweet kiss on her lips. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer and couldn't help but think that she had just found the perfect way to pass time as she waited for this mysterious signal.
But both heads whipped around, knocking each others' foreheads, as they stared at the door, a loud crash still ringing from the kitchen below.
"Don't worry, I'll go check it out," Ron said much more calmly than Hermione felt. "Remember, you stay here, love. No peeking!"
"I wouldn't dream of it!" Hermione called out with a nervous laugh as he made his way down the hall.
It seemed to be a long time before Hermione finally heard Ron's familiar heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs and in her direction. But this time, an unmistakable shuffling followed and stopped at the door as he came back in.
"Did you receive any signals while you were down there?" Hermione asked hopefully.
"Not yet, but I think we should be getting a signal soon!" Ron replied, clearly raising his voice at the end while turning towards the door.
Seconds later, muffled whispers could be heard through the door before a high pitched lion's roar echoed through the hall.
"Better go see what that is," Ron said as he turned towards her earnestly. "Wouldn't want lions roaming around our house. But don't worry, I'll protect you from what ever is out there." But neither Ron nor Hermione could keep a straight face as a round of light giggles reached their ears.
Ron dramatically flung open the door and revealed two eager children, each holding one end of crowded breakfast tray.
"Surprise!" they screeched together. "We made you breakfast, Mummy!"
As Hermione gushed her thanks to her precious children, they slowly waddled over to the bedside, careful not to ruin any of their hard work (although Ron had smartly already charmed the tray to be both lighter and protected against any accidents).
Hermione reached down to take the tray while Rose and Hugo scrambled up into bed with her, one child under each arm with the tray resting in the middle. They watched with pride as Hermione sampled each dish.
"Mummy, do you like it? Me and Hugo made it all by ourselves!" Rose proclaimed proudly and, only after a pointed cough from her father, added "well, Daddy helped a little."
"I love it, darling," Hermione answered for what must have been the hundredth time.
As Hermione began to dig into her meal, it was almost lunchtime after all, Ron cleared his throat authoritatively and asked, "Now Rose and Hugo, what do you say?"
Hugo scrunched up his eyebrows towards his father in confusion before turning to his mother and saying, "Please?"
Ron, Hermione, and Rose all laughed while Hugo looked like he was about to cry at being left out of the joke. Seeing Hugo's distress, his big sister hurriedly climbed over her mother's form to whisper why that day was so special.
After being let in on the secret, Hugo's face quickly transformed into one of excitement as he clapped his hands and yelled, "Mummy! Mummy! Mummy! Happy Mother's Day!" He gave Hermione a sloppy kiss on the nose before climbing out of the bed and dancing around the room while singing about how much he loved his mummy.
Hermione's breakfast was quickly forgotten as she hugged her daughter closer and took in the scene around her. She couldn't help but think: if this is what she got for fighting a war, she'd do it a thousand times over.
A/N: Just a very short, fluffy one-shot in honor of Mother's Day! I didn't set an exact age for Rose and Hugo, but just for reference, I pictured Rose to be about 7 and Hugo around 4 or 5. I hope you all enjoyed and don't forget to tell your mom you love her, maybe even make her some breakfast :)