Hungover
"We're staying at home today."
Ron muffled the announcement into his pillow as soon as he felt his wife's hand around his shoulder, squeezing lightly, and she gave a disapproving huff.
"Get up, sleepyhead", she said, in a low, sluggish voice. "You're going to be late."
"Not if I don't get up."
She failed spectacularly at stifling a yawn. "I'm guessing you're still hungover?"
"My best mate got m-m-married." He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer despite her half-hearted protest. "I'm allowed to be hungover."
Hermione forced herself to swing her legs out of bed and promptly pressed her palm against her temple. "Oh, God."
A lopsided grin pulled at his mouth. "Hungover, love?"
"For goodness' sake, Ron, speak quietly."
"Sorry." He reached out, tugging lightly at her fingers. "Let's stay at home, then. We could re-watch Star Wars. Rosie'll be thrilled."
"You can't watch Star Wars with a toddler, Ron. I don't think it's suitable for children."
"You've never watched it." Hermione gave a wide yawn that quickly turned into a giggle when Ron lifted the blanket, as though inviting her to crawl back into bed. "Rosie loves Star Wars. Remember last time, when she made me turn my wand into a lightsaber?"
"We should really go to work", she said, although she didn't sound convincing at all."We're not sick … j-just a little hungover."
Ron snorted.
"We're a little hungover because of a very, very happy occasion. We are not calling in sick. We're very well, thank you very much, and now you will get your arse out of bed."
He blinked. "Did you just tell me to get my arse out of bed?"
"I'm not saying that again." She reached for the water bottle on the bedside table, quickly downing what was left of it, and gave an agonised groan.
"Better?"
"No."
"Hermione, if you were actually going to go to work, you would've gotten out of bed by now. Left me to my fate."
"Shush. Move."
"What, we're staying at home now?"
"Pshht."
"Alright. Love you too."
She answered with a drowsy little smile and dragged her leg over his, cold feet bumping against his shin, and he grinned sheepishly as he watched her slumber.
"I've got work to do, you know", she mumbled. "So do you."
"Harry'll take care of it." And when she swatted his arm lightly, he added: "He'll be alright. He can stop by later. Watch Star Wars with us. Besides, it's technically his fault we're hungover."
Hermione looked at though she would've usually scolded him for that particular remark; now, however, she merely frowned and buried her face in Ron's skin. "Stupid Harry. Stupid wedding."
There was a long whining sound, and Hermione groaned and rolled around.
"'S fine", Ron mumbled, "it's my turn. Don't go to work while I'm gone", he added, pointing a finger at Hermione, who had wrapped herself in the warm blanket with a grateful smile, and got up.
"Mummy sleep?", Rose asked when they were back at the parents' bedroom, and reached for Hermione's frizzy curls with a tiny, tubby hand.
"Mummy's very sleepy." Ron nodded sternly, watching as she grabbed his thumb with her hand. "So we're going to be very quiet, alright? Or she won't let us watch Star Wars."