A/N: Yeah, can't believe I totally forgot the disclaimer! Anyway, this goes for all chapters of this story, previous and future. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny don't belong to me. Neither does the magical world of Harry Potter, sadly. However, Ella does! Yay!

"Ron?"

"Yes?" Ron's reply came from Ella's room, where he was busy trying to persuade her into wearing her new dress.

"Harry's birthday is in a week. Ginny called, she wants us to help her throw him a surprise party."

"Oh, come on. The sucker hates big parties. Let's just take him out to dinner."

"You're just saying that because you hate helping. Too late, anyway. Ginny's sending out the invitations."

"Fine, I'll go…but I'm not going shopping with you for a new dress!"

"That's perfectly fine. What I want is a new pair of shoes!"

Ron sighed. Normally, when Hermione wanted to go shopping, he simply would have made excuses-that he needed to spend some extra time so he could get a promotion, that his department was understaffed and he had to put a few more hours in. And then, he would run off the the Leaky Cauldron with Harry for a few pints and complain about their wives for a bit. But now that he had time off work, there were no excuses.

"Fine…shall we go?"

"Yes, is Ella dressed?"

Ron surveyed his four year old daughter. The pretty sky blue dress her Aunt Ginny had given her was wrinkled. Her auburn curls were messily braided into sloppy pigtails and her normally happy smile was gone in favor of a frown. One Mary Jane shoe was on, but buckled incorrectly. The other had been thrown against the wall ten minutes ago.

"Yes, just about. Come, see your pretty little daughter!"

Hermione walked in and groaned in despair.

"Ella, darling, why aren't you dressed?"

" 'Cause I don't like dresses! I wanna wear pants like Daddy does! And I don't like braids! They make me look like I'm a little girl!"

"But sweetie, you are a little girl. They make you look adorable!"

"I don't wanna be a little girl!! I wanna run and fly and play Quidditch like James and Brian do!"

Hermione looked at Ron, who seemed quite proud that his little girl wanted to play Quidditch, then rolled her eyes.

"Ella, the twins are boys. They're yucky gross boys like Daddy and Uncle Harry. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry let James and Brian run around and get dirty and messy because they're little boys, not a little lady like you."

"So??? Daddy said that when you were a girl, you never wore dresses either. And Uncle Fred said that Aunt Angelina was a little wildcat, and that she didn't wear dresses or stupid shoes."

"Honey, just wear the dress to make Mommy and Aunt Ginny happy. Please?? With a Golden Snitch on top?"

Ella considered her mother's plea, and finally gave in. She let Hermione straighten the ruffly pale blue garment and fasten both shoes onto her feet. Carefully, Hermione eased the matching pale blue ribbons off Ella's braids and brushed the long curls carefully.

Ron watched his beautiful wife and angelic daughter proudly. Maybe that Dr. Barnes was right. I did need to take some time off, get to really know my family. After all, not even Harry has a better one, and he's got my baby sister and those strong little Quidditch players.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Hermione was sitting on a bench. Alone. Simply because the rest of it was occupied by at least a dozen boxes of shoes. Shoes that all looked identical to Ron. He sighed. Women and their mysteries.

"Ron? Which do you like better?"

She gestured at two pairs of shoes, both of which were black, high-heeled, and had a tiny little bow on the peep-toe.

"Erm…that one." He gestured at the shoe on her left foot.

"Really? You don't think the heel makes my ankle look fat?" She considered her ankles in the mirror then turned to look at him.

"Not at all. They look perfectly…slender and…ankle-like."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on. I suppose I've put you through enough hell."

Ron gave a silent cheer before following Hermione and her selected pair of shoes, but nearly ran into her. She had halted suddenly, for no apparent reason.

"What the bloody hell?"

Hermione was so occupied she forgot to reprimand him for his language, even though Ella was next to them. Ron looked around curiously, but saw nothing but racks of clothes and handbags. He followed her gaze and saw…a man.

"Hey! You're staring at that guy! That blond one wearing a black shirt!" Ron exclaimed indignantly. Hermione glanced at him in surprise.

"Not the man, Ronald, the dress he's standing next to."

For the first time, Ron noticed the man's surroundings. Next to him was a mannequin modeling a green evening gown. It seemed a bit ordinary to him, but he said, "Yes, that's beautiful for you. Try it on!" to make Hermione happy. Before the words were even out of his mouth, she had bounded over to the rack behind the mannequin to find the dress in her size, in the process nearly knocking the blond guy to the ground.

Forty-five minutes later, Ron was sitting on a bench outside the ladies' fitting room, cursing his mouth and the mannequin. Just when he thought the torture was over, no! She had to see that cursed dress!

And then, all the thoughts were knocked out of his head.

His wife stood in front of him. Her hair was swept off her shoulders and twisted into a loose bun, from which frizzy strands were escaping. And then…the dress…

Hermione's slim figure was wrapped in a perfectly cut emerald silk gown. Halter straps showed off her cleavage perfectly-just a little bit. The gown flowed over her torso like a waterfall. The department store lights reflected a soft sheen off of the material so it looked like she had a halo all around her. Ron could see Hermione's toes peeking from under the gown. He motioned for her to turn.

All the thoughts were knocked out of his head…again. Her back was bare, as the dress featured a revealing scoop that dipped almost to her behind. The dress flowed in loose flounces all the way down to the floor, where it pooled in a small train.

Hermione giggled; she couldn't help it. Ron's expression was simply hilarious. His eyes were wider than she would have thought possible and his jaw had dropped so far she could see his tonsils.

"I can see that you like it."

Ron nodded enthusiastically, like a hyper little puppy.

"Yeah, um, you look…nice…"

Ella broke in. "Mommy looks like the most beautiful mommy in the world!"

Hermione laughed. "Thank you darling!" To Ron, she asked,"Can I have it? It's perfect for the formal ball!"

"Okay!"

"…Ron?"

"…yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"Perfect."

"You seem a bit out of it…you haven't asked which formal ball."

"All right, what formal ball?"

"Ginny's surprise party for Harry! She booked the Ministry of Magic ballroom! She told Harry it was in honor of old Healer Dunnaway."

"That's nice darling."

"Yeah, you're still in shock."

"That's nice."

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned around for the dressing room. Ron slumped against the wall, a starstruck expression in his eyes. Ella giggled and snuck a Chocolate Frog out of his robe pocket.