Subject: Muggle Music

Task: Write about someone having marital problems.

Additional Prompts: (Word) Respect, (Word) Desperation, (Location) Bedroom

2017 New Year's Resolutions: Write at least one oneshot in every genre listed on the site - Drama; Write a minimum of 300 drabbles this year; Write at least one drabble/one-shot for all the characters listed in 'Harry Potter Characters' on .

365 drabbles: Stupid

Word Count: 1060

Won-Won's Winky Worries

Lavender placed the bright pink cover on the duvet, sighing heavily as she did so. She felt as though she was stuck in a rut and, as much as she hated to admit it, she felt stuck in her marriage. She couldn't remember the last time she had been happy with Ron—the man she had vowed to love forever.

As she threw the duvet back onto the bed, she saw something move out of the corner of her eye and froze. Her head snapped in that direction and her eyes remained fixated on the spot, waiting to see if anything moved again.

After a couple of minutes, just as Lavender was beginning to think she had imagined it, she saw it move again. She screamed and ran out of the room.

"Ronald Weasley!" she shouted, quickly making her way across the landing to the top of the stairs. "Get your arse up here now, you stupid oaf."

She huffed loudly and tapped her foot impatiently as she heard him slowly make his way through the house. The only saving grace was that she didn't have to go down there and drag him up the stairs herself.

"What is it now, Lav?" Ron groaned loudly, stomping up the stairs.

"Your rat is out! Again!" Lavender screeched, grabbing him by the hand and leading him to their bedroom door. "Remind me again why you got another—my brand new sheet! Your rat is chewing a hole in my sheet… get it off before our bed becomes infested with diseases."

"Oh, Lav, stop overreacting to everything," Ron groaned, scooping up the rat and placing it into the cage and closing the door.

"Overreact! Overreact! I wouldn't need to overreact if you pulled your weight once in a while. You don't cook, you don't clean, and don't even get me started on how much I loathe the way you won't even make an effort to better yourself. There's only so long you can work for your brother before it becomes sad and pathetic," Lavender yelled, picking up a fresh pile of washing and throwing it at him. "And I hate how all you do is eat all the food in the house and spend all of my money. It's time for you to grow up and have a little respect for yourself."

"Oh, stop getting your bloody knickers in a twist, woman," Ron yelled before slamming the bedroom door behind him and jogging down the stairs.

Of course, Ron knew that these fights they were having were merely a symptom of a much larger problem—or to be more specific—lack of something rising to the occasion.

The first time, Ron had brushed it off as a one time thing. After all, it happened to every man at least once in his life. This was just his 'off day'. It was just a shame Lavender hadn't seen it that way.

The second time, Ron put it down to stress. He had been busy at work and he was drained. It was nothing to worry about. After all, he was a Weasley, and Weasleys did not have these problems… you only had to look at the number of children his family had produced over the years to know that.

Every time after that, Ron made up excuses in his mind as to why he couldn't perform. He was stressed, he just wasn't in the mood, he was too tired, and the list went on.

The most recent time, he had blamed his wife… the less said about that the better. He still had scars from the hexes she had thrown his way in retaliation.

But the reality of it was, as much as it pained him to admit it, there was something wrong with him. No matter which way you looked at it, he couldn't perform in the bedroom, and it was leading to the downfall of his marriage.

They were fighting more—sometimes their arguments got so explosive that they didn't speak for weeks.

Ron knew it was time he did something about his problem. He had a wife who needed satisfying and he didn't want her to start looking elsewhere for her needs to be taken care of. And he knew that Seamus Finnigan sniffing around again… watching and waiting for a chance to make his move.

With that thought in mind, he grabbed his coat off the hook by the door and left the house.

~o~o~o~

Ron walked briskly down the street and entered the chemist with his head bowed to the ground. He walked up to the counter and pulled out some of his Muggle money, and placed it in front of the young girl.

"I'd like to buy some Viagra," he mumbled quietly, ashamed that his desperation to please his wife had reached this point.

"I'm sorry, Sir, can you repeat that?" the female asked.

Ron felt his face redden as he repeated what he said in a louder. His foot began to tap against the ground. He wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible and leave with his purchase.

"I didn't quite catch that."

"VIAGRA!" Ron yelled, frustrated that he had to repeat himself yet again. "I'd like to purchase some Viagra."

The young girl behind the counter pressed her lips together as she stifled a giggle.

"No need to shout, Sir," she said, turning around and grabbing a box off the middle shelf. "Now make sure to read the instructions carefully. If you are on any other medication, it is best to speak to your doctor before you take these. I know men of a certain age have these problems but it is not worth risking your health."

The girl looked Ron up and down before handing him the white box.

"It's not for me, it's for a friend—Harry," Ron rushed out, not liking the feeling of being judged by the chemist.

"Of course it is, Sir," she answered, sarcasm evident in her voice. "That will be twenty pounds please."

Ron nodded his head towards the notes on the counter. "That should cover it. You can keep the change."

He picked up the box and placed it in his pocket and rushed out of the store, eager to get home and try out these magic tablets. He had a wife to satisfy.