Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I'll admit, I was inspired by Call Block Tango, lol, and I'm sure a situation came up like this at some point during their marriage. Anyway, enjoy!
Written for the Restricted Section: Write a story without using the word 'it.'
Pop
"Ronald Weasley, I swear to Merlin. If you pop that gum one more time, you will regret —"
"Bloody hell, Mione, what's got you in a twist?" Hermione sighed as her husband cut her off. Her fist tightened around the carving knife and she returned to the task at hand. Preparing dinner. She was by no means a good cook but the day her husband got off his lazy ass and cooked himself would be a miracle. She prayed for this day fervently to no avail.
But he had done something he hadn't in a long time. He showed interest. Maybe he would actually listen to her troubles and she could share her burden. And she did. She told him about the bill the Wizengamot had proposed last week, the effects such a proposal would have on magical creatures, how her department began preparing an argument, the way her boss relegated the hard work to her, and how she didn't think she would be ready in time to oppose the bill successfully.
While she unloaded her troubles, she dished out dinner. Silence met her after she finished her rant and she turned to her husband still sitting on the sofa reading Quidditch Quarterly.
A bubble grew from his mouth.
How she hated Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.
Pop.
Fury welled up inside her and then something snapped. In moments, her wand was released from her wrist holster and she fired two warning shots into his head.
He collapsed back onto the couch.
Satisfied, Hermione ate her dinner, put the leftovers into the refrigerator she'd insisted on, cleaned the mess and retired for the night. She spread across the bed and smiled. She was certain that after a good night's rest she would be able to come up with a flawless argument to counter that bill.