Author's Note: I'm back! Maybe not for long, but at least for this chapter (and maybe two or three more. That's as far as I've planned this out). This one takes place quite a bit further into Ron and Hermione's lives than anything else I've written but I really love the idea behind it, and I hope you do too! As always, reviews and suggestions for later chapters are not only welcome but extremely appreciated. Thanks for reading!

(J.K. Rowling obviously owns everything related to the Harry Potter universe, I'm just borrowing and playing around with it.)

"I just don't understand why she's doing this," Hermione said, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Her nostrils were flaring with every breath and her lips pressed together in a firm line. Her hair even looked bushier than usual, as if charged by the intensity of her emotions. She looked like she could set the kitchen ablaze as she paced back and forth in front of the cabinets.

Ron tried not to laugh.

He stole glances at his wife as he pretended to read the letter they had received that afternoon from Rose. He'd already finished it, but the longer Hermione thought he was reading the longer he had to watch her fume, which she hadn't done properly for some time now, and it was quite a sight. He just wanted a few more moments of seeing her like that, radiating and passionate, before calming the whole situation down.

"Ronald!"

He sighed. It had been nice while it lasted, but as much as he loved seeing her in such a state (for nostalgia's sake if nothing else), he knew that they'd both feel better after talking it out, after he had talked her down.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air, pressing her back into the counter as she leaned against it. "Honestly, how long does it take to read a letter?" She snapped at him.

Ron looked up from the parchment finally, taking a breath to respond, but Hermione had just gotten started.

"A letter from a thirteen year old. Thirteen! And she already thinks she can just disregard my advice! She didn't listen to a thing I told her! Not a thing! All I'm trying to do is look out for her, to help craft a good education for her, but no, I'm not there so Rose is going to choose worthless, stupid, inane subjects that—"

She fell silent when she noticed Hugo, who had ducked his head into the room through the doorway to the hall. His eyebrows were high on his pale forehead and his mouth was agape. Ron turned in time to see his son swallow hard and frown at them.

"Is Rose in trouble at school?" He asked. Although Hugo's face was mostly blank Ron could detect an edge of hope in his voice, one that he knew from his own years of hearing about the twins' antics.

Ron smiled. "No, she just picked her classes for her third year." He picked up the letter and held it out to Hugo. "Here, you can read about it for yourself."

Hugo took the letter before dashing out into the hall again. They waited as his footsteps moved up the stairs. Neither of them spoke until they heard the click of his bedroom door, but they looked at each other, Hermione's forehead wrinkled in distress and Ron staring with wide eyes.

"If I recall," he said, voice even, "You also signed up for all of the classes that Rose did."

"Of course I did," Hermione said. Her voice came out rough, as she practically grit her teeth in an effort not to shout. "I took all of the classes available. But I know that she can't do that so I was hoping that she would sign up for ones that would help her, not waste her time."

"Ancient Runes is a waste of time to you?" Ron asked.

Hermione huffed in frustration, "Of course not, but—"

Ron grinned. "And Arithmancy?"

"Not necessarily," Hermione said, though it sounded more like a hiss.

"So there's only one more thing that could be the problem," He concluded, his grin growing.

Hermione sighed and began pacing again. "Divination!" She said in a fierce whisper, "The only class that I strictly told her not to take!"

Ron leaned back in his chair, watching his wife storm past him, turn on her heal, and storm by again. "Our daughter is nothing if not determined," he said.

Hermione stopped and turned to him, eyes narrowed. "I am perfectly aware of that," she snapped.

She stared at him for moment before closing her eyes. She let out a breath then, pushing some of her hair back and away from her face. Her stance had lost some of its rigidity. Then she sat down heavily in the chair across from Ron. She frowned down at the table before looking up at her husband, her brown eyes wide.

"I know she's determined, and I love that about her, but why did she need to be determined about this?"

Ron shrugged, "You'll have to ask her." He quirked one of his eyebrows at her, leaning in closer across the table. "Why do you still hate that class so much? We know that Trelawney could actually tell prophecies, so obviously it wasn't all fake."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Sure," she said, "she could see the future, sometimes, twice if I remember correctly, but that doesn't mean anything she spews in that so-called classroom is worth two Knuts."

Ron chuckled quietly.

Hermione shook her head, her finger gliding over the grains in the dark wood surface of their table. "I know it's silly. Professor McGonagall wouldn't let the school offer that subject if it were completely worthless, but I can't help but think that it's not worth it." Her eyes drifted upward until her gaze connected with Ron's. "Rose is so smart, Ron, she's so bright and I hate to think that she might be wasting her time and her effort on a class that only might teach her anything."

"I'm not arguing," Ron told her, "Merlin knows I hated that class too, not to the extent to storm out of it, but…" He trailed off, smiling at Hermione.

She smiled back, and they both fell into quiet laughter as they remembered what had happened so long ago in that odd, smoky, classroom. "I was a right horror, wasn't I?"

"You were just…determined."

She shook her head at him but continued to smile.

Ron continued to laugh as he rose and went to their stove, turning the kettle on.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked him.

"Making you a cup of tea," he told her. He paused for a beat before continuing, "Maybe you can read the leaves after you're done and find out if Rosie's wasting her time."

Hermione frowned at Ron, which only brought on a new bout of laughter for him. "Could you be serious for just a minute, please? How are we going to fix this?"

It was Ron's turn to lean against the counter now. He shrugged before saying, "We won't."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "But this will shape the rest of her time at school! And her career options after that!"

Ron nodded, "I know, but think about it. There are much worse things that could be shaping her time at Hogwarts."

Hermione's expression softened, "Oh, Ron."

"Let's just be glad that she'll be thinking about her dreams and crystal balls, not Basilisks and Dementors."

Hermione rose from her seat, crossing to Ron. They embraced each other quickly, each one snaking their arms around the other as quickly as possible, and holding on tight. Hermione kissed Ron's chest where her head lay against his t-shirt, while Ron rested his chin on top of her head, her hair tickling around jaw.

"You're right," Hermione murmured against him, "I'm being mental. I just needed some…perspective."

He kissed the top of her head.

They stood together until the kettle began to whistle. Hermione turned off the stove while Ron fetched two teacups from the cupboard. They set to work, Hermione dispensing the tea and water while Ron added the sugar and cream in. When they were done Hermione took a long sip from her cup while Ron allowed his to warm his hands—the kitchen had gotten drafty in the cool Spring air of early evening.

Hugo bounded back into the kitchen, breaking his parents out of their reveries. He held up the letter, smiling big. "Can you believe Rosie chose such boring subjects? What was she thinking?"

Both Hermione and Ron chuckled. Hugo turned to leave, and as he did he said, "I'm going to write to her right now and try to figure out why she would do that."

Ron glanced down at Hermione. "Do you feel better?"

She nodded, smiling warmly up at him. "Much. Thank you, love."

He smiled back, and leaned down to kiss her deeply, but only for a moment. As he pulled back he nodded towards the door. "Why don't you go read for a bit? I'll make dinner."

Hermione's smile widened. "Alright. I'll be in the study."

Ron watched her go and set to preparing for dinner, gathering the ingredients he'd be using. As he did so, a thought occurred to him.

He moved across the hall and into the living room where Hugo sat on the floor by the coffee table, on which he was busy scrawling out a letter.

"Hey, Hugo?" Ron said.

"Yeah Dad?"

"Do me a favor and remember not to sign up for Divination in two years," he said. "I'd really appreciate it."