Hermione walked in the door to her home after a long day of work. Groaning, she kicked off her shoes and exchanged them for her house slippers. She neatly arranged, not only her own discarded shoes, but three more pairs scattered around the foyer.
"Mum!" A small red-haired girl slammed into her. "I'm hungry."
"Go find what you want, I'll be in the kitchen in a minute." Hermione sighed, patting her daughter's head.
"Yah!" she cheered and ran for the kitchen.
"Hey," her husband grunted from the couch, where he sat listening to a Quidditch match on the wireless. "Pixley's getting slaughtered. There was this great move about five minutes ago, where Hannon had the quaffle and he..."
Hermione nodded, mostly tuning him out as she began cleaning up the dirty dishes, empty bottles, and rubbish lying about the room.
"It was incredible!"
"Yeah, sounds like it." She took the arm load to the kitchen where her two young children were arguing about what to eat.
"But I don't want those!" her daughter complained.
"Those are nasty," her son grouched, crossing his arms.
"No, they're not!"
"Yes, they are!"
"Are not!"
"Are too!"
"Mum!" they shouted together.
Frowning, Hermione took both boxes and began gathering the ingredients for both.
"Mine first!"
"No, mine!"
"No one's going to get anything if I can't find a clean bowl," Hermione mumbled to herself. "Go get your dad."
"Dad!" they screamed and raced to reach him.
"What?!" came his shouted reply.
Giving up her search, she walked closer so that she didn't have to yell. "I thought you were going to do some dishes today."
"Oh, I forgot."
"I need a couple of bowls."
He groaned and heaved himself off of the sofa. Digging through a pile on the counter, he produced two small bowls. "Here you go." He set the dirty dishes in the sink and started to leave. "Oh, hey! So, what are you making for dinner?"
"I don't know, I worked all day, what are you making for?"
"Nothing, my back hurts."
"Probably because you've been sitting all day. Did you fill out any applications?"
"No, you know I need your help with them." He left and sat back down. "Can you bring me a drink?"
"Can you take out the trash?"
"I said I would."
"Yeah, but that was last night."
"So? I'll do it later."
She looked at the overflowing rubbish bin and began to angrily separate it into two bags that could be closed. Then she set to cleaning the bowls and decided what to make with the chicken that her husband neglected to thaw.
"Mum! We're hungry!" her son called from his disaster-of-a-room.
Wiping away the tears of frustration, Hermione started on their snacks, knowing they probably hadn't had lunch while she was gone.
A/N: The husband can be whoever you choose.
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