Marriage Issues
A Ronmione fanfic
**DISCLAIMER**Ok guys, I just looked in the mirror. I'm not J.K. Rowling. Trust me, I wish I was. But I'm not. THAT MEANS I own NONE of the characters mentioned in any of J.K's works. I only own the characters I made up. Got that?
Chapter 1: Jittery morning
Hermione threw the throw pillow on the couch, grabbing her very bushy just-woke-up hair in her hands and making a 'grrr!' sound in the back of her throat. Ron wasn't home from work yet. He'd left exactly twenty-four hours ago, at 6:30 in the morning YESTERDAY. He'd been gone for a while. It'd never taken him this long to get home!
The kids were still asleep. But just to check they hadn't been woken up by her stomping around the house she peeked into their bedrooms.
Rose's room was functional-looking. A lot like Hermione's had been when she was 12 years old. It was painted a light green. She had an ivory-colored bedspread over a simple wooden bedframe, the carpet was white, the dressers were mahogany. A few pictures of her and her friends from school, Alyssa and Audrey, papered the walls. Rose was still asleep, her medium-brown hair, not quite as bushy as Hermione's but more silky like Ron's, fanned out over the cotton pillow. Hermione smiled at her sleeping, beautiful girl and then tiptoed to Hugo's room.
Hugo had inherited his love of the Chudley Cannons from Ron, as well as red hair and freckles. Hugo was 10. His room was covered with Wizarding posters of robed men on broomsticks. Hugo was curled up on the sheets, also fast asleep. Phew. Hermione was too tired and worried to make the elaborate breakfasts that Hugo sometimes wanted.
Hermione thought about when she was 10. She remembered telephones. She snarled to herself again. Why didn't wizards and witches have that kind of thing? A device in which to contact someone at a moment's notice?
She was too jittery to sit still on the couch for more than a few minutes. Noticing a few of the flowers in the vases were drooping, she set about conjuring some more, and while she was at it she noticed a whole bunch of other imperfect things around the house, like the left pillow was looking flat, the clock was a few minutes slow, and the bathroom sink had a speck of toothpaste on it. Hermione just couldn't help it. She was a perfectionist; she didn't like things out of place. Speaking of things out of place…
Ron was still not home. Hermione, now with nothing to do and too nervous to go back to sleep, paced up and down the sunny living room.
Ron was now working at the Ministry of Magic. Then again; so was Hermione, perhaps more diligently than her husband, but today was one of her few days off for the year. She thought she was going to have spent it with Ron. But besides that, both of them were making lots of gold a year, more gold than Ron certainly had had growing up in Ottery St. Catchpole, and the two of them were living in a very nice house in London.
The house was fairly large. It was three floors, with 12 rooms. There were a bedroom for each of the kids, Ron and Hermione's bedrooms, several guest bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, the den, the living room, and Ron and Hermione's separate home offices. Hermione knew she was lucky, they were certainly well off. And she was the happiest she'd ever been in her life. Well, she was a few days ago at least, when Ron was home.
A few hours later, the kids were done with breakfast and doing their separate things. Rose was reading a book called "Witch's Dilemma" about the medieval witch burnings. Hugo surprisingly was also reading a book, though his was much less educational: Sports Teams of Britain and Ireland. Hermione was working on a Runes translation from Ancient Egypt. She had just decoded a rune into the word "tomb" when the door opened.