Harry threw back the covers, "I'm only 40. Why do I have to get up and piss in the middle of the night like I'm 80." he thought grumpily as he climbed out of bed. The fact that he and Ron had had about five pints each probably was more likely to blame than his age, he hoped.
The light in the living room caught his eye on his way back to their room. He hadn't noticed her missing under all the covers she liked to burrow under. He padded lightly into the room, shivering at the cold stones under his bare feet.
His bride of fourteen years was stretched out on the sofa, her face lit by the glow of her laptop as she read the screen avidly, "Ginny, what are you doing up so late? It is past midnight." he said groggily, leaning over to see the screen.
She gave a yelped and slammed the lid shut, "Nothing!"
"You were on that silly website again, weren't you?" he said with a groan. "You know I hate all that stuff—"
"I wasn't! Honest!" she said as she slid the laptop off her laptop and stood up. "I just lost track of time."
He gave a disbelieving huff and put his arm around her waist as they walked back into their bedroom. "Harry, have you ever wondered what it would have been like if you'd been born a Veela?"