Disclaimer: I don't own anything you may recognise.

"Mummy?"

"Mmmm?"

Hermione rolled over, trying to ignore the tugging at the corner of the duvet. Rose was up early again.

"Mummy?"

This call was louder. The duvet was pulled away from her even more and Hermione felt the bedsprings shift as her four-year-old daughter clambered onto the bed.

"Mummy!"

Much louder. Hermione opened her eyes, squinting in the bright, early-morning light.

Rose was knelt up, next to her on the bed, her pyjamas disheveled, and hair falling loose from its plait, frizzing around the top of her head.

"What is it, Rosie?"

"I woke up."

"I can see that. Rose, do you know what the time is?"

Hermione reached half-blindly for the clock on her bedside table. Half-past six. Wonderful.

Rose was tugging at her again. Hermione knew there would be no chance of getting back to sleep now, so she rolled over to face her daughter. Satisfied that her mother was finally paying attention, Rose sat back, slipping down into the thick duvet and pillows, spreading herself out across the empty half of the bed.

It wasn't usually empty, and most mornings (though not usually this early, Hermione reminded herself), Rose would hurry in to wake her parents before jumping up onto the bed and burrowing herself down in between the two of them. But it was different this morning. Ron wasn't there. He was away on a mission. One that Hermione didn't know the details of and didn't really care to know at the moment. She'd finished with that part of her life. She was pretty sure Ron had too, but he was still there, alongside Harry every day without fail. Hermione had given up wondering when he was finally going to quit and start working with George full time.

Most mornings though, Hermione and Ron would lie with Rose for half an hour or so before one of them bullied the other into going and dealing with Hugo once his gurgles or wails could be heard over the baby monitor (Ron had complained no end about the 'blasted thing', claiming they could just use a Sonorous spell on Hugo's nursery and save the trouble of 'batties' but it had fallen on deaf ears. Hermione wasn't quite prepared to give up her Muggle world entirely).

The monitor was silent now. It would be another hour or so before Hugo woke, so Hermione settled back down into the bed, reaching out her arm to bring Rose closer.

"So, Rose, why are you up early then?"

Rose's voice was muffled by the covers, but Hermione could see her blue eyes peeping out from amidst the white linens.

"Had a funny dream."

"Oh dear. Well it's over now, Rosie – "

"Not a bad one, Mummy, a funny one."

Rose was completely gone from sight now, having pulled the cover right over her head. Hermione could still feel the warm heat from her daughter's small body though as she squirmed in her grasp.

"What kind of funny, Rose? Funny ha-ha or funny as in strange?"

Hermione was quite confident in the ability of her daughter to understand the question. Ron had already decided that Rose was going to take after Hermione, claiming he 'still had hope for Hugo yet.' Hermione rolled her eyes at the memory, as she reached her hand further round her daughter, tickling her quickly up the arm.

She could hear Rose giggling.

"No, Mummy, don't!"

But the plea held no desperation, only the breathlessness of a good feeling, and a protest intermingled with small squeaks of laughter.

Hermione smiled to herself, pulling the duvet quickly back, revealing Rose curled up, almost at her feet, hair even more awry, and a blush creeping up her cheeks.

"OK, I'm sorry Rose. Come on up here then and tell me about your dream. Was it funny ha-ha, or funny as in strange?"

Rose compiled now, crawling up so her head rested on the edge of Ron's pillow, tucking the duvet in under her chin, and turning to face her mum.

"Funny strange, but funny ha-ha too. It was about you and Daddy."

"Was it? What happened then, Rose?"

"It was silly. Daddy was on his broomstick flying and you were laughing at him."

"Really? Why was I laughing?"

Rose shrugged and looked up at her mother, her face scrunching up as she thought.

"Don't know, but there was a Hippogriff there too, and Hagrid was dancing with a House-Elf."

Hermione tried to repress her snigger.

"Really? That does sound funny."

But Rose was shaking her head.

"You and Daddy were funny though, more than Hagrid, 'cos you couldn't stop laughing and then Daddy started chasing you, but you didn't mind, and I liked that, and then we were all with Uncle Harry and Uncle Charlie and we were singing Three Fluffy Owls and then I woke up."

Rose exhaled quickly and Hermione smiled at the story. She noticed Rose's eyes on hers and she settled down further onto the bed, stroking Rose's hair gently, knowing that there would be no way of taming it flat without at least a brush.

"Your Daddy has always made me laugh, you know."

"Mummy?"

"Yes, Rose?"

"Tell me about you and Daddy."

Hermione smiled slightly as she thought about Ron and everything they'd been through. Of course, the harder times were always going to be in the back of her mind, the sad and lonely memories, as well as those when Ron had been there for her, comforted her as well as the best times in her life, but she seldom thought back to those other times that she had just been happy. Not necessarily happy in a content way, but happy as in laughing. Ron always made her laugh, and she'd never really thought about those times properly before.

"OK," she replied, casting a quick glance at Rose, who was now listening intently.

"One time, your Daddy and I were outside in the garden at Granny Molly's house. It was just us there, it was before Uncle Harry had arrived for the summer, and your Granny Molly had Daddy mow the grass because she was so sick of it being long – "

"But it's long now, Mummy! I like it like that, it's like an expemtishon."

"Expedition?"

"Yeah."

Hermione couldn't help smile at her daughter's mispronunciation. She might be a clever little girl, but she was still only four, and Hermione liked it that her daughter still showed some of her baby traits. She knew she'd miss this time once Rose grew up. Of course, Hugo would still be a baby for a while yet, but there was something different about Rose. She had been her first baby, her little girl, and as much as Hermione loved Hugo, she knew it wouldn't be the same.

"Well, I think Granny Molly likes it like that too now, but before she was sick of it being long, and your Uncle Bill's wedding was coming up and it had to look pretty so she got Daddy to mow it for her, and I was outside too."

Rose's brow wrinkled in the same way it always did when she was thinking carefully.

"Why, Mummy?"

"It was a nice day, and I was doing some reading."

"Oh."

Rose seemed at a loss as what to say, so Hermione reached out and brushed her hair back from her face, Rose squirmed away, a smile on her face.

"Well, do you know what your Daddy did to me?"

This time Rose turned back to look at Hermione, her small hands clutching the edge of the duvet tightly.

"What, Mummy?"

"He piled a whole lot of grass cuttings on my head. He'd finished and I hadn't noticed."

Rose was giggling softly.

"Then I threw some back at him and we ended up having a grass fight."

Upon hearing this Rose burst out laughing, her delight muffled by the duvet as she rolled over into it.

"I bet that was funny Mummy."

Hermione smiled softly. It was nice remembering these times she'd had with Ron, and it was even nicer sharing them with Rose. Someday she dreamt that it would be Rose coming and telling her about all the funny things she did with a future boyfriend. But that was a long way off, and Hermione felt silly for even considering it yet. Rose was only four. She still had a lot of growing up to do, it would be best to let her enjoy her childhood while it lasted.

Rose had settled down, and was staring back up at Hermione again. Hermione could tell she was about to ask for another story, so she sat up quickly; she could hear Hugo's gurgles through the monitor. He'd be awake soon, and although it was still a little early to be getting him up, Hermione wanted to shower and dress before she had to sort him out too.

"Not now, Rose," she said, smiling back at her daughter, as Rose continued to stare up at her with large eyes, "I'll tell you more later."

Rose sighed loudly, her too-long fringe blowing out slightly as she did.

"Why don't you go back to bed for a little while and read or something until breakfast?"

Rose rolled over, as if she'd suddenly realised how much space she'd been granted.

"Can I stay here?"

Hermione thought for a second. Usually, she wouldn't have approved of the idea of her daughter rolling about in a bed that had fresh sheets on yesterday (though Ron would always convince her otherwise someway or the other), but today she was feeling rather good, and so smiling in answer to Rose, she left to get ready.

It was a quarter to one when Ron finally got in. Hermione had put Rose to bed ages ago, and had just returned from settling Hugo again after his night feed. She was just wondering whether to do something useful like washing or cleaning, or just to give in and find a good book when she heard the tell-tale sound of Ron apparating into the garden.

He came in not minutes later, looking tired and ruffled, and Hermione smiled as she turned away from the bookshelf.

"Hey. Rough day?"

She walked over and wrapped her arms around him, and he returned the hug gratefully, sighing slightly as she lowered her head into his shoulder.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. You?"

Hermione looked up at him. She'd been quite ready to have a long-winded moan about what a difficult day she'd had too.

After the good start, the day had quickly deteriorated and she was quite ready to tell Ron all about it. About how Hugo had thrown up four times, twice on her and once all over Rose. About how Rose had started screeching in protest and had ended up throwing her dragon book across the room, knocking over the lamp, which set Hugo off crying. About how it took her two hours to quieten them both down, during which time there had been a succession of three owls which were still waiting for replies or payment, and how the Muggle milkman had accidently delivered twenty-four bottles of milk to the house. About how George had dropped off Roxanne and Fred, needing an emergency babysitter, whilst Angelina was on an away match and he had a problem at the shop, leaving her with a baby that was throwing up everywhere and three young children who somehow decided that it would be a good idea to make a fort out of all the bed clothes, plus the dirty washing, plus the majority of the pots and pans in the kitchen only to have it collapse spectacularly causing them to charge out into the garden and start playing in the flowerbeds whilst singing 'Weasley is our King' at the tops of their voices.

But seeing Ron now, none of it seemed to matter. Not just because his day had probably been just as bad if not worse, and that he was obviously hiding the fact from her, but also the face that it didn't matter. It was life, and she had to deal with it. Plus, when Ron was there, it didn't feel so bad anymore.

So she led Ron over to the sofa and sat down next to him, shaking her head.

"Oh, you know, the usual too."

Ron sighed again and looked across at her, a smirk growing on his face.

"You too, huh?"

Hermione nodded

"Yep."

"Shall we just forget about it?" Ron asked.

"Oh, please," Hermione replied half-heartedly. She shifted sideways, cuddling up to Ron as he wrapped his arm around her.

"I was talking to Rose this morning. She wanted to hear stories. About me and you."

Ron frowned.

"Really?"

"Yeah, she wanted to hear funny stories. She had a dream about us."

Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah? What did you tell her?"

Hermione snuggled further into Ron's side and he rubbed her shoulder gently.

"About when we had a grass fight."

Ron sniggered and looked down at her.

"Oh yeah, I remember that."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It got me thinking, though," she said, staring up at him, "About how –" she sighed, trying to think of how to say what she wanted to.

"Ron, do you ever think that we don't have fun anymore?"

Ron's eyes widened.

"What you mean –"

Hermione sighed and thumped him with her free arm.

"Not like that! I mean have fun, have a laugh together. Don't you ever think that our lives have just become one long task?"

Ron was silent for a moment as he thought.

"It doesn't have to be."

Hermione frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Ron grinned and Hermione sat up slightly, still puzzled.

"I mean," said Ron, still smiling, "that it doesn't have to be a task. We can still have a laugh."

"You mean –"

"I mean, that I can still get away with doing things like this..."

Before Hermione could react, the pillow Ron had been holding in his free hand whizzed towards her and hit her right in the face. Hermione scrambled up ready to start shouting, but when she saw Ron's face she stopped herself.

"OK then," she said, grinning now as she got up off the sofa and grabbed a cushion herself, "if that's the way you want it to be…"

They spent a good half hour fighting each other. There was still plenty of ammo left over from the children's fort and it turned into one of the fiercest matches Hermione could remember.

Eventually she flopped down onto the sofa, breathing heavily, trying to suppress her laughter. Ron collapsed next to her, sighing contentedly.

"Was that enough fun for you?"

Hermione rolled over, her giggles having transformed into the smile on her face as she leaned in to kiss him.

"It certainly was."

A/N: This was written for The Reviews Lounge Birthday Ficathon, a collaboration where every participating author wrote a story for another person, except each author was kept secret. This was my contribution. As it was part of the collaboration, it can also be found in the story called 'The Reviews Lounge Birthday Ficathon' which can be found in The Reviews Lounge's Profile. You should go take a look too, there's some great oneshots there. This was written for TheWordFountain.

I found that this was a real challenge. I think I may have mistakenly filled in my request form wrong, as I ended up writing the genres that I wasn't very good at. However, I found that by writing them, I really managed to stretch myself and delve into new styles of genres and writing. As I'm fairly pleased with the result, then I can only see it as a good thing.

I'd like to thank the author who wrote my story in the collection - Quoheleth, and everyone who reviewed my chapter whilst the authors were still anonymous. Also thanks to my beta - spinkle who looked over this before it went up in the collection.

I hope you take the time to review, it is greatly appreciated.

Elle xx